𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 ❧ you and Laszlo finally learn how to love each other the way you've been waiting to for so long.
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 ❧ 5k
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 ❧ SMUT (finally!!! includes penetrative sex, knotting because a/b/o, implied loss of virginity but it's not really discussed, fingering, and laszlo being kind of a two-pump chump), alcohol consumption, fluff
⇥ 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ⇤
It took him weeks to heal from the damage he’d done to himself in only a few days. But for as much of that time as you could be, you were there to help, tending to him in any way he’d let you. He seemed a little overwhelmed by all the attention, by your tenderness, but it was your nature.
And as for his nature, he was a proper gentleman— perhaps more than you would’ve wanted if you had it your way. Every little touch from him made your heart flutter, but it never seemed to be enough. Sometimes it would just be a hand resting on yours, other times he would appear behind you and gently kiss the back of your neck… but every time, he would step away too soon and leave you wanting. After months of courting, you had expected to get a little further than that.
Clearly, he didn’t want to take things too quickly with you— and it was probably better that way, but it made you feel embarrassed at your own impatience. You weren’t sure how he might react if you suggested taking things further. Would he scoff and rebuff you? Would he go on with it just to appease you, like it was a chore? Would he scold you for being so improper?
Hm. Maybe that last one wouldn’t be so bad…
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, making you look up quickly from your plate.
“Oh, nothing,” you hummed, adjusting yourself in his dining chair and taking a bite of the dinner he’d served you, trying to look natural.
“Do you honestly think that I can believe that?” he smirked, and you smiled bashfully around the forkful of roasted potato in your mouth before swallowing it.
“Fine,” you relented, “you always see right through me.”
“But I can’t see what it is that you’re thinking about that’s taken all your attention,” he added, lifting his glass of wine to take a sip.
“It’s not worth discussing now,” you decided.
“Why not?”
Laszlo’s persistence was inconvenient at times like that. “It’s not a polite topic for dinner,” you continued, hoping it would be just enough detail to get him to relax his interrogation. But he just laughed softly and shook his head.
“Since when have we respected the rules of polite society and their appropriate dinner topics?” he wondered. “I recall us both maintaining our appetites while discussing the more gruesome details of our latest case— more than a few times.”
You remembered that, too, and it oddly made your heart beat a bit faster as you sipped awkwardly at your wine. He stood up from his seat across the table and approached you; feeling a bit strange to still be sitting, you stood up as well, just as he was right beside you— almost too close, even, to the point that you couldn’t decide if you wanted him to step back or pull you closer.
“Tell me what troubles you,” he requested quietly. “It pains me to see you drowning in your own thoughts.”
“Because it reminds you of yourself?” you asked, joking.
“Yes,” he answered, not joking.
You nodded and cleared your throat a little, glancing down because you couldn’t bear to look at him as you spoke of this. Instead you stared at the intricate pattern in the silk of his vest, something sort of like vines or branches although it was a bit more interpretive than that. “I just was thinking…” you began quietly, trailing off to begin again. “Sometimes I think about that night that you took me to the opera,” you finally got out.
“I’ve taken you to quite a few operas in the past months,” he noticed, “you’ll have to be more specific.”
“The very first one,” you added, and though you weren’t looking at his face, you could hear his breath catch and you hoped that meant that he understood why you’d been thinking about that.
“Ah, yes,” he spoke quietly, and he must’ve leaned in a bit closer because you could feel the warmth of his words fanning over your neck. “Die fliegende Hollander.”
You nodded weakly. “Mm-hmm…”
“No wonder you’re still thinking about it,” he posited with the slightest hint of amusement to his voice, “you must be wondering how it ends.”
You dared to look up just as he was so close that you couldn’t see his face anymore— but you could feel it, pressed against yours as he tenderly kissed your cheek. You sighed and reached up to rest your hands on the lapels of his coat, biting your lip to hold back a whimper as he kissed his way down to your neck.
“It must be troubling you, the lack of closure,” he presumed. “Does it keep you up at night? Or does the anticipation thrill you?”
“Both,” you stammered out your reply, letting your eyes fall shut to better commit yourself to the way his lips felt on your skin. “I think about that night all the time, Laszlo. I-I’d never felt that way before, for anyone— and I’ve never felt it so much since.”
“Felt what?” he pressed, and you found a little more bravery to answer with your eyes closed.
“Desire,” you whispered. And when you felt him pull away, you opened your eyes to find him right there, looking at you with an uninterpretable expression.
When he spoke, though, you were able to interpret his tone: disbelief. “You don’t mean to say that you’ve never desired anyone else…”
“Not like this,” you assured. “Not this much.”
He lifted your jaw with delicate fingers and kissed you— you could taste the wine on his lips, sweet and dark just like him. Seeking more, you found yourself opening your mouth wider and letting his tongue dance with yours; it made shivers run over your skin until your hands were shaking where they had moved to rest on his shoulders.
A deep hum left his mouth and echoed into yours, something you’d never imagined before but was beautifully erotic. He pulled back just enough to examine your face, holding your jaw gently to keep you from leaning forward and kissing him again. You were so lost in the moment that your eyes stayed shut for a moment, your mouth open waiting for him to kiss you again; you were a little embarrassed when you came back to reality and saw him staring at you, but the look in his eyes was nothing less than enamored.
“I’ve been waiting so long, Laszlo,” you whispered, blinking up at him.
“We’ve only been courting for three and a half months,” he reminded you— he said it like he’d actually been counting the days but decided to round down to an estimation.
“Longer than that,” you returned. “Don’t you remember how I longed for you for ages before then? It’s probably been a year that I’ve wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
“Omega,” he growled, the depth of his voice echoing right through you; your fingers clutched at his coat as your head fell back, making it even easier for him to kiss all over your neck until you started to feel a bit raw from where his beard rubbed against your skin. Not that you minded it, you were too busy moaning as his hand lifted your skirt and slipped under it, running over your legs and massaging your thigh with just enough restrained strength.
“Alpha,” you whimpered in return. He was just inches away from where you needed him, and your back arched just imagining that he might finally touch you. “Don’t make me wait anymore. Make me yours, please…”
“Don’t speak that way,” he pleaded roughly, teeth just barely grazing over the skin of your neck. “I’m still trying to be chivalrous towards you…”
“The most chivalrous thing you can do for me now,” you breathed, “is to take me to bed.”
The way he clutched at your waist with the hand still outside of your dress, pulling you into him, made you think that he just might— but a clattering noise made you both startle and turn to the side, where you found Mary standing in the doorway with a tray dropped on the floor by her feet. Her hands covering her face did little to hide the way her tan skin had flushed to a deep burgundy.
“O-oh, Mary,” Laszlo choked, both of you awkwardly pushing the other away. “I didn’t think you— we didn’t—”
“Let me help you clean that up,” you offered as you dashed to kneel beside the mess on the floor. Mary joined you in gathering the dropped items (thankfully nothing had broken) as you flipped the tray back up to the right side and placed everything back onto it. Laszlo awkwardly stood aside, fixing his hair which had fallen out of its style from your fingers running through it; the absolute second that the mess was cleared, Mary held the tray and stood up, nodding at you and then Laszlo before she dashed back out of the room.
“Well, I think we’ve sufficiently traumatized her,” he decided as he cleared his throat. “Forgive me if I’ve robbed you of your dignity…”
“No, it’s all right,” you assured, standing up to approach him again. “At least we can know Mary won’t be telling anyone about what she saw.”
Laszlo offered a nervous smile at the joke. “Yes— perhaps that was a consideration of my own when hiring her. She’s seen more of my secrets than I ever wanted, but I trust she’ll keep them all.”
You raised an eyebrow as you reached up to run your hand over his chest one more time. “Am I another of your secrets?”
“Anything but,” he replied. “I’ve had to tell everyone I ever knew about the beautiful omega who’s become my constant companion— I’ve had to tell them twice, in fact, because they never believe me the first time.”
He loved to flatter you like that, and it was true that the news had spread far and wide; however, he overestimated his own role in that, since the papers and gossip mill had done plenty to get the word out about an eligible bachelor like Dr. Laszlo Kreizler finally finding a woman who might very well become his mate.
“But the last thing I’d like is to besmirch your reputation,” he added, “or to dishonor you.”
Oh, but you so desperately wanted to be dishonored. You were more than willing to give your honor up to him and thank him for taking it afterwards. If only you had the bravery to say it. “Thank you for dinner, Laszlo,” you heard yourself say instead.
He had arrived early one afternoon to take you to the opera— Die Zauberflöte this time— and you had asked him to wait outside your bedroom as you finished dressing.
You had sat down at your vanity. He had suddenly swung open the door, his silhouette appearing behind you in your mirror. You were only in your dressing gown, yet you didn’t protest.
And then it just… happened.
He all but pounced on you, spinning you around and pinning you back onto your vanity— knocking everything onto the floor, which you didn’t really care about or notice at this point. He kissed you roughly, running his hands over your skin as you began to push his jacket off, though you only managed to get a few buttons of his shirt open before he pulled back.
“I need you,” he begged, staring at you with his brown eyes darker than ever.
He wasn’t in his rut, nothing had triggered it— it was just the culmination of both of you waiting far too long to do this, and something about him losing control simply from having to wait for you to dress made you beam with pride at the same time you whimpered with need. “Have me,” you offered to him in reply, gasping when he instantly began to lift your robe, running his hand up your legs, clutching at your hips and rubbing the delicate skin there.
He kissed you quickly, but pulled back to watch your face as his fingers found your pussy, gently exploring you as you bit down on your lip to mask the sound of shaky breaths.
It certainly wasn’t how you expected this to happen, not how you imagined it at all; sudden and unplanned, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you back against the vanity. Half-undressed, sweaty and panting with your open mouth almost brushing against his as if you were too overwhelmed to even really kiss him.
It wasn’t what you expected, but it was everything you never knew you needed.
You were much too wet for how little he’d done to you— and your clit was already a bit swollen when he found it and began to rub it in slow, gentle circles.
He smiled when your hands weakly clutched at his shirt, your mouth fallen open into a whimper of a moan at the feeling. “Have you ever touched yourself here before?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” you admitted, “but I think I was doing it wrong…”
He grinned wider, leaning in to whisper to you as he continued to rub the spot, applying just a bit more pressure until you felt your hips beginning to rock in time with his movements. “Such a unique little organ,” he continued, “the only one whose sole known purpose is pleasure.”
Though the topic of his statement was scientific, with the tone his voice carried, it would never be confused for a professorial lecture.
“I can’t wait to show you every way I can make you feel good,” he added darkly, pressing harder on it just in time to make you moan loudly.
“I-I want to make you feel good, too,” you protested. He silently obliged your request as his free hand held your wrist gently, guiding you until your hand was pressed up against his erection through his trousers. Your eyes went wide as you felt the outline of his cock— it was so thick, and it hadn’t even knotted yet. How would it ever fit inside you? “It’s going to hurt…” you worried aloud.
"It won't hurt," he promised in a rough whisper, rubbing his fingers over your entrance carefully. "I'll get you ready first, keep you comfortable— and there shouldn't be any pain. Tell me if something hurts you, all right?"
It was his 'Doctor voice,' the same one he used when giving patients certain treatments or exams. Hearing him use it in this context was… wonderfully jarring.
One finger slid carefully into you, and even with how wet you were, it forced you to softly hiss in a breath. He moved it slowly and deliberately, twisting it slightly as he pumped it in and out. “How does this feel?” he asked quietly.
“Different,” you mumbled nervously, starting to move your own hand over the bulge in his trousers, but when you started to rub your fingers over the ridge of his head, he quickly pushed your hand away, pinning it down to the vanity by your wrist.
“Let’s not test my stamina any more than we need to,” he decided.
You couldn’t explain why you enjoyed him pinning your hand down like that so much, but it didn’t matter because he let it go to reach up and run his hand over your hair anyways.
Just as you began to feel more comfortable with one finger, he began to carefully add a second. It was a bit of a stretch, and you let out a sharp breath but he reminded you to relax, his free hand cradling your neck and stroking your jaw to keep you calm. “You’re doing so well,” he cooed, “just let me get you ready a little longer, I promise it won’t hurt you.”
You nodded and he pressed the second finger in beside the first, slowly sliding both deeper inside you, until his knuckles were pressed up against you and your head had fallen back against the wall in a low moan. “Oh, Laszlo,” you heard yourself whisper under your breath.
“A little louder, darling,” he prompted.
“Laszlo,” you said again, “i-it feels good…”
“I know,” he nodded, “it’s supposed to.”
Those two fingers curled inside you and hit something that made your toes curl. “O-oh,” you stammered, “fuck.”
You felt him smile when he heard you swear, thrusting his fingers just as much as he needed to make your thigh start to shake. And it was only made more intense by his thumb pressing down on your bud again, rubbing it firmly while he kept twisting his fingers within you.
Of course the moan you let out was loud and unashamed: you had no corner of your mind left to even feel shame anymore, not when pleasure had taken over every thought and tears began to spring in your eyes just from how intense it felt. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he noticed. “And so quickly… what a good little omega you are.”
That was pretty much the last thing you expected him to say, but it called to something deep and instinctual within you— as well as making you whine as your back arched to accommodate a chill running over it.
“Can you come for me, now?” he wondered.
“Yes,” you sobbed, “yes, Laszlo— I’ll come.”
“Do it, then,” he challenged. “Go ahead, Omega, show me how fast you can come for your Alpha. Show me you’re ready for my knot.”
Any chance at resistance you may have had was lost to words like that, and with a cry of his name, an orgasm washed over you suddenly— one unlike any you’d ever felt before. Slick coated his hand and ran down your shaking thighs, and he moved his fingers like he wanted to drain you completely.
Only once your moans of pleasure just barely crossed the line to cries of pain did he finally slow down, though he didn’t take his fingers out of you completely nor did he stop moving them. You were still catching your breath when he started to speak right against your ear: “You can’t even imagine,” he promised in a low, husky whisper, “the way it feels when you come on my fingers. I never knew anything could be so divine. I need you to do it again, before I fuck you.”
Hearing him talk like that had long-since removed any remaining functionality of your logical mind, and you moaned loudly as your head fell back against the wall.
He made you come again almost effortlessly, since every spot he’d already targeted had become more sensitive than ever, and it was a struggle not to scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear. You weren’t sure if you cared anymore if they did; you’d be fine with anyone and everyone knowing of the pleasure Laszlo was giving you.
You only held back because if you were too loud, then you wouldn’t be able to hear his voice in your ear, showering you in praises. “My beautiful omega, that’s it, just let go…”
Though he was immensely talented with his fingers, of course it wasn’t enough— even after two orgasms. “A-Alpha, need you,” you barely managed to croak out.
“You have me, darling, I’m right here,” he assured.
“No, I—” you stuttered over a whine, “I need you.”
He winced, but still managed to resist your plea somehow. “You’re not ready yet, Omega— I need to get you ready to take all of me.”
Just then, he added a third finger; the stretch made you whimper and arch your back, holding on tight to his shoulders. “Alpha, I— oh god,” you whimpered, hips beginning to rock in spite of the way the stretch pushed you to your limits.
“You can take it, can’t you?” he asked. “It’s not too much?”
If you were being honest, it was almost too much: but you weren't being honest, and you were going to say anything you needed to get his cock in you right now. “I can take it, Laszlo, please— I-I’m ready to take you.”
“No, you need a little more—” he began to disagree.
“Please!” you sobbed. “Alpha, I need to feel you inside me…”
He snarled at you, and he looked way too good doing it; you whimpered and arched your back harder, your body so desperate to submit to him. Thankfully, it seemed to work, as he carefully pulled his fingers out of you only to not-carefully-at-all start to unbutton his trousers.
Shit, it looked even bigger than it felt. A nervous swallow moved down your throat just as a new wave of arousal dripped from your entrance.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked you quietly. “Because once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
“I want you,” you assured quickly, moaning when he stepped forward and you felt his cock press right up against you; it was intimate, and of course it was, but it made your cheeks warm in a different sort of way to feel him so close and know that soon enough he would take you as his once and for all.
Just sliding his cock over your lips once was enough to coat him in your slick, and his head bumping into your swollen bud made a gasp catch in your chest.
“Omega,” he breathed, “I can’t wait any longer, I… I need to be inside you.”
“Please,” you gasped.
You watched his face, and he watched yours, as his hand reached down to guide himself into you. You bit your lip when the softer head of his cock pressed up right to your hole: already it was so wide that you worried how it would ever get in.
The first push of his hips forward just barely managed to overcome the resistance inside you, slipping the head of his cock inside— and you both moaned deeply at the feeling. You whined as he gave one slow, consistent stroke to fill you to the brim, your legs shaking slightly where they were holding his body close. You just barely heard him whisper your name, along with a little curse, and you spoke his name back to him in case he might’ve forgotten it.
“M-more,” you pleaded when he started to slow down, only satisfied when you felt his legs against the back of your thighs and you knew he’d given you everything.
His head fell onto your shoulder with a sigh, he himself starting to lose his collectedness now in the overwhelming heat of you, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Omega…” he whispered absently.
“Move, please,” you whimpered, and though he had intended to give you more time to adjust, he couldn’t resist anymore and began to rock his hips against yours.
You'd never felt so full; your urge was to tighten your fists and curl your toes, but his hand rubbing your back and his voice in your ear encouraged you to relax. "Shh," he cooed when you whined after a particularly deep thrust, "just breathe, darling, breathe with me."
"O-oh!" you gasped when he pressed his hips up to yours, burying himself as deep as he could possibly go— which was very, very deep. You relaxed, though, as his hand moved up to gently cradle your face, your jaw in his palm as his thumb rubbed lightly over your cheek. He stared at you very closely for a moment, seemingly in awe of you, before kissing you lightly and sighing against your lips.
"So beautiful," he whispered. “Tell me how it feels…”
“It feels perfect,” you answered, “I— I didn’t know it would feel this good…”
He smiled as he kissed you again, tasting your pliant lips and letting his tongue venture inside your mouth fallen slack into a sigh. You, meanwhile, couldn’t do anything but bask in the pleasure that washed over you— it wasn’t a relaxing sort of pleasure, like slipping into a hot bath. It was a challenge, it required something of you, but it was well worth it (and better than any bath, certainly).
And, also unlike a bath, it just got hotter. “I…” you began, but you weren’t sure what to say. Something was building in you, faster than you expected and egged on by his thumb finding your bud again and rubbing it slowly.
“What is it?” he whispered. “Tell me what you need.”
“Don’t stop,” you breathed in return, because that really was all you needed. “I’m… close…”
You weren’t sure if that was the right way to put it, but he smiled proudly when he heard you. “So eager,” he praised quietly, and it only served to arouse you further. It was sort of a backhanded compliment; he was ever-so-slightly mocking you, and you liked it.
“Ffffuck,” you stammered, feeling the tingling intensity starting to creep in from every side, making you shiver in a way that was very different than you ever had before.
Your walls began to flex before you’d even really hit the highest point of it, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth so you figured he must’ve felt it. “Yes,” he groaned, and you’d never seen him so lacking in composure. “Just like that, Omega, come for me.”
You fell apart instantly once he’d said that— it was a miracle you lasted this long, to be entirely honest, though it wasn’t very long at all.
Your teeth dug into your lip until you worried you might break the skin, trying to hold back your cries of pleasure, but even so it caught in your throat and was audible regardless. Laszlo, meanwhile, groaned deeply at the feeling, beginning to move a bit faster and hold you a bit tighter.
“I can’t hold back anymore,” he warned you roughly, panting out his breaths against your neck. “I-I’m going to knot you.”
Lost entirely for words, you only whined and nodded quickly.
Just a few thrusts later and he groaned deeply, hands clutching at your thighs as the warmth of his come began to fill you. You cried out weakly as his knot swelled against your walls, tears welling in your eyes; he struggled to soothe you while falling into his own pleasure, but he still managed to do it with gentle kisses and whispered praises. “You take it so well, my beautiful omega,” he spoke under his breath, rushed and uneven as he kept coming inside you. “Shh, it’s all right…”
You fought, ironically, to keep yourself relaxed. It was such a struggle to fit his knot in you, but it was worth the effort— you knew this was what you were meant to do, you could feel it in the way your body was thrumming with energy.
It took a while for it just to stop getting bigger, but at least then you could sigh shakily and start to try to get comfortable— because you’d be like this for a while. “Alpha,” you breathed, clutching at his shirt again.
He leaned in and kissed you, much more relaxed than before, and you really melted into him then; that went on so long that you couldn’t even estimate how much time might’ve passed, nor would you really want to. You were certainly missing the opera by this point, though once again, neither of you cared in the slightest.
Even with really only one arm doing the work, he was able to carry you to bed, where he held you tightly and kissed your face and let you drift in that place between sleep and wakefulness until his knot went down.
You both winced, slightly, when he finally pulled out. Both of you were somehow both numb and oversensitized at once, so it was a little uncomfortable for just that moment, but you hummed lowly when you were empty again and felt the warmth of his come begin to slowly leak from your opening. You didn’t even want to imagine how swollen and stretched you must’ve been there, after the way his knot had nearly overwhelmed you.
“I’ll run you a bath,” he offered quietly as he began to sit up, but you whined and reached out for him.
“Don’t go, Alpha,” you pleaded weakly.
“I’m not going to go far, I’ll come get you when the water’s warm,” he soothed with a gentle kiss to your cheek, getting up a moment later— you were too exhausted to watch him go, so you just shut your eyes and listened to his steps disappear into the hall.
You were half-asleep when he came back and helped you up; you were still half-asleep when he guided you into the warm water, humming to yourself as you slipped into it and keeping your eyes shut just to soak (literally) in the feeling of the hot water.
“My beautiful omega,” he whispered below his breath as he carefully helped you wash your face, cupping water in his hands and letting it run down your cheeks, unsticking the baby hairs that had clung to the thin layer of sweat on your forehead. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
You smiled, finally finding the energy to blink your eyes open and find his face hovering not too far above yours. The next time his hand passed over your face, you held it with your own and gave a kiss to his palm. “My beautiful Alpha,” you replied.
He gave a bashful smile at that compliment, clearly it wasn’t the one he was expecting, but he didn’t look at all disappointed.
Synopsis - You always used to make coffee for Valtteri, because he said yours tasted the best. After your promotion, you had less time to make him coffee, but agree to tell him your secret ingredient after a good race.
Author’s Note - Wanted to write something short and sweet for this absolute underrated babe so I hat better than a coffee based fluffy first kiss?? There aren’t enough Valtteri fics out there honestly, if you know any good ones please send me the links!
“Guess who!” You say excitedly, a giggle in your voice as you place your hands gently over your friend’s eyes.
“Umm… Guanyu?” Valtteri says, chuckling at your cheesy actions.
“Wrong! It’s obviously me, duh! And I come bearing gifts!” You say, removing your hands from his eyes. Valtteri turns to look at you, a bright smile on his face as he gazes up at you from his seated position.
“Presents?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Better than presents.” You respond, tilting your head slightly to encourage the guessing game to continue.
“Better than presents? There’s nothing better than presents.” He says, a smile on his lips.
“There’s one thing better than presents,” you say, quirking your eyebrow at him, and his eyes light up as he realises just what gift you have brought for him.
“Coffee!” He exclaims, and you nod, retrieving the two travel mugs from the table behind you and passing him one.
Valtteri wraps his hands around the cup and sighs contentedly at the warm sensation against his fingers, before taking a sip. It was good, really good. Somehow you were the only person in the world who could make coffee just the way he liked it. Others had tried, even mimicking your every action in the kitchen to make the perfect cup, but no matter how hard they tried, it never tasted the way it did when it came from you.
“I thought the days of you making coffee for me were over?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Just because I got a promotion it doesn’t mean I won’t make the occasional cup for you anymore! Plus, I know just how you like it, with my specially added secret ingredient.” You say with a wink, before taking a sip of your own coffee.
“What’s the secret ingredient? Your coffee always tastes so good.” He asks
“Ah, a magician never reveals their secrets.” you chuckle.
Your phone buzzes and your eyes go wide as you realise you’re running late.
“Shit, I’ve gotta go! Good luck out there today, and maybe, if you get us some points, I’ll tell you my secret ingredient.” You say, offering Valtteri a quick smile before speeding out of the Alfa Romeo hospitality.
———
You watched on in amazement from your position in the Alfa Romeo paddock as both of your drivers finished in the points. Eighth position for Guanyu and sixth for Valtteri, you couldn’t be more proud. You had, however, completely forgotten your promise to reveal your secret ingredient to your best friend, so caught up in the joy of the team and the anticipation of both drivers crossing the finish line.
Standing outside of the Alfa Romeo hospitality, checking your phone to see all the positive reactions and hype after the team’s amazing performance, you are interrupted as you feel a familiar pair of hands cover your eyes.
“Guess who?” He asks, and you chuckle, reaching up with your free hand to grab Valtteri’s and restore your vision.
“Would it be the guy who just finished sixth in the race today, by any chance?” You ask, turning around to stand face to face with your best friend.
“I think it is, and now you have to tell me your secret ingredient.” He says, and your earlier conversation that morning comes flooding back in your mind.
“I said that maybe I’d tell you what the ingredient was, it wasn’t a promise.” You say, a smirk on your lips.
“Come on, P6 has to be worth sharing your secret.” He says, nudging you on the shoulder playfully,
“Okay, okay, I’ll tell, but this is between you and me, okay?” You say, trying not to show the nerves that were building within you.
“I promise I won’t tell.” He says, and you sigh a sigh of relief.
“Okay, come closer, I’ll whisper it. Can’t have this information falling into the wrong hands, who knows who’s listening.” You say, and Valtteri leans into you.
You bring your lips up to his ear, so close they’re practically grazing his earlobe. You place your hand over your lips to shield your words from view.
“My secret ingredient is… love.” You say, before pulling away and standing awkwardly before him. You didn’t think that today would be the day you confessed your feelings to your closest friend, and your mind was racing as to what he was going to say or do in response to your declaration.
What you hadn’t anticipated, was for him to kiss you - but that’s exactly what he did.
Valtteri places his hand gently on your cheek as he presses his soft lips against yours, just for a moment. When he pulls away, you just stand there in shock, unsure exactly of what to say or do. Your mind empty, only thinking about those few seconds where his lips touched yours for the very first time.
“That’s why the coffee tastes so good. It’s not the temperature, or the beans, or anything else, it’s the fact that you made it, I always knew that, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same.” He says, a soft smile on his lips that shone slightly from the remnants of your lip balm.
“Valtteri, of course I feel the same, how could I not? I made you coffee every day we were together, even though it wasn’t really my job, because it made my heart full to see the smile on your face when you tasted it. I love to see you smile, I love-“ you pause before saying that final word, your brain catching up with your mouth and stopping you from saying something that could never be taken back, that could ruin your friendship or whatever else you had by saying those three words together too soon.
“I love you too.” He says, taking your hand in his and gently caressing your fingers with his own.
You smile at him, taking a step closer to wrap your arms around his neck. He presses his forehead to yours and looks deeply into your eyes, a smile playing on his lips.
“Do you wanna go get some coffee?” He asks, and you chuckle.
“Depends, are you making it?” You say, smirking slightly.
“Of course, especially now I know your secret ingredient.”
Daniel Joseph Ricciardo prided himself on being a family oriented man, a doting and devoted son but even more importantly a vigilant older brother. In fact Daniel would go so far to say he was the “best brother anyone could possibly ask for.” The tanned Aussie would throw this declaration in wherever possible with that signature infamous grin filling his kind features. One word Daniel would never associate himself with when it came to his brotherly role was overprotective. However in reality overprotective is probably one of the first words Y/N Ricciardo would associate with her older brother.
polish government has opened a website for ukrainians seeking safety and trying to cross the ukrainian-polish border:
ua.gov.pl
as of 13:10 polish time, it has been said as many people as possible will be let through the borders. they are also supposed to let through children who do not have passports, as to not divide families.
Heyy! First off how are you doing? I hope you're well💕
I was gonna request a Cassian Andor x reader where the reader decides to trim Cassian's beard but he gives her a hard time
Thank you so so much❤
AN | We have some more soft hours, featuring the light and love of my life, Captain Andor. Am I dying for the series? Naturally 😌
Pairing | Cassian x Fem!Reader
Warnings | mentions of injury
Word Count | 1.4k
Masterlist | Star Wars, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You let out a long, heavy sigh as you stared at the ceiling. You’d been here for hours, just waiting and waiting for some sort of news, but nothing ever came. Instead you’d studied (and re-studied) the chart of the stars that Cassian had drawn and hung up for you. For whatever reason, it always made you feel closer to him when he was gone.
Just like now.
He was supposed to have been back days ago, but there had been no word from him. And despite how much you wanted to go after him, you found yourself hit with a proverbial wall, unable to focus on anything or bring yourself to properly function. Instead you just waited around, hoping and hoping that something would happen. But so far nothing had and you’d found yourself resigned to laying around and waiting.
But then, just as you’d felt your eyes start to get heavy, a rapid knock came at the door and it opened before you could even say anything.
“Hey, you’ve got to come to the docking bay! Now,” Mariana was breathless as you sat up, heart beating so rapidly you were sure that you were positive it was going to burst, “they’re back.”
As soon as you heard the words that you had been waiting to hear for so long, you sprang off the bed and darted out the door and past your friend. You were sure you’d never run so fast as you headed down to the bay, needing to see him with your own eyes. It was a hurried mess as you bumped into people, shouting apologies over your shoulder.
“Cassian!”
But once his ship came into view, you saw K2 standing there and speaking to someone. You ran up to him and attempted to shove the droid out of the way in order to see Cassian for yourself, “Cass!”
Your heart practically stopped again at the sight of him, watching as a small smile spread across his features. This was not the sight you had expected upon his return; this was much worse.
“Hi,” he breathed softly as you looked over his wrapped up arm and bruised face. You just knew that the parts you couldn’t see were probably just as hurt and battered. Cassian could see the worry trickle into your features as you, laughing lightly, “you should see the other guy.”
“I don’t care,” you reached up and slowly, tentatively brought a hand to his face, tracing gently over his cheek, “I don’t care about anyone but you, Andor. And right now, you look like bantha fodder.”
“I’m fine,” he promised, tenderly placing his hand on top of yours, “I swear it - just a little sore.”
“He’s lying,” Kay interrupted as you looked between the two of them, before raising an eyebrow at Cassian.
“It’ll take some time to heal but nothing permanent,” he reassured you, causing the worry in your tummy to subside ever so slightly. Cassian was the one person you loved more than anything in any of the galaxies and to think that something had happened to him was enough to make you want to keep him in your sight at all times, “I love you, you know.”
“I was worried sick about you,” it was somewhere between a laugh and a cry as a few tears rolled down your cheeks, “I-I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you, Cass. I…”
“Shhh,” he wiped the tears away before gently pressing his forehead against yours, “it’s alright. I’m back and nothing like this will happen again.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It was early when you woke up and you were far from ready to get up. Instead you intended on staying warm and asleep, rolling over and reaching out for Cassian. Unfortunately you found an empty bed, causing you to sigh lightly. It wasn't long before you heard the same sound, followed by a few quiet curses coming from the refresher.
Perking up, you pulled the covers back and tried to rush over, worried that he had somehow hurt himself more than he already was.
"Cass?" you gently pushed the door open so you wouldn't scare him, "are you alright, my love?"
"I'm fine," he promised as you looked him over. He was standing in front of the mirror, attempting to shave, but apparently failing to do so with one arm injured. It was silent for a few moments before he finally gave in and shook his head, "shaving is more difficult than I thought. I didn't think anything would be this hard, I can barely do anything for myself."
"That's because you're injured and it's never going to get better if you don't rest and slow down," you rested your chin on his shoulder and smiled softly, "I know you hate asking for help, but how about you just let me help for once? It'll even stay between us, Andor."
"You'd never let me say no, would you?" you shook your head gently before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Absolutely not captain," you reached for the razor before nudging him to sit down. You kneeled down in front of him, taking the shaving cream and spreading it on his face, "now, hold still and let me do this."
"You sure you know what're doing?"
"Nope," you laughed, "but I've watched you do this how many times? I'm sure I can wing it!"
"Just leave my skin behind, yeah?"
"Hush," you insisted, "let the master work!"
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It was about half an hour and many flustered sounds later when you decided you were finished. The task proved to be more difficult than you had originally intended; there had to be some sort of trick to this.
"All done," you huffed and stood up, trying not to completely cringe at the patchy shave job, "umm...maybe we should have someone else assist. Maybe Kay?"
"It can't be that bad," Cassian slowly rose as he went to the mirror to study himself. He kept his composure for a few moments before bursting into a fit of laughter, “oh. Oh.”
You offered him a sheepish smile before innocently shrugging your shoulders. It wasn’t the worst job ever, but it was far from good. Instead of an even trim, it was patchy and uneven, and worse than if he would have just left the longer beard, “oops.”
“How?!” he laughed as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks, “I could have done a better job with my bad arm, silly girl. Have you never done this before?”
“I mean not like this on someone else - a man’s beard,” you couldn’t help but giggle, “it’s different when you’re doing it on someone else! It feels wrong...I thought I could make it work but...I didn’t cut you! So that’s a thing, right?”
“I’m glad that at least I don’t have a new injury to add to the collection,” he teased, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I appreciate the effort.”
“I did try!” you felt bad, knowing that he wouldn’t want to set foot in front of anyone looking like this, “I-I can try to fix it?”
“That’s okay,” he insisted quickly, “I’d rather keep my face on while I have the chance.”
“You know I love you, right?”
“I know,” he grinned, and your heart melted, suddenly feeling not so bad at your less than perfect handiwork, “I love you more. But I think I might need Kay’s help for this. The droid has to be useful for something after all.”
“I’ll fetch him,” you promised, wiping away a stray bit of shaving cream from his chin. You held his face in your hands for a moment, looking over the remaining bits of bruising that were yellowing away, “I’m glad you’re okay, Cassian. When you didn’t come home...and then seeing you like this. It scared me.”
“I had to come home to you,” he whispered, “and I like to think that the only reason that I’m doing better is because of you.”
“Don’t get too soft on me, Cass,” you beamed before taking a small step back, “I’ll be right back with Kay. Don’t do anything until we’re back!”
“I’ll be right here and waiting,” he shook his head in amusement as you walked out of the refresher, “don’t think I’ll ever let you live this down!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Andor!”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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