#and it's his fault you gave up your career
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John Lennon be like...
#as meatloaf said#two out of three ain’t bad#mystery solved#paul you could have fixed everything if you'd just given him a cuddle afterwards#such a shame you're a... checks notes... northern man#sorry cyn#for the record I'd love to chat with you#and it's his fault you gave up your career#john lennon#john and paul#john and yoko
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Changing Lanes
Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc always thought he would spend the rest of his career racing in red. But you make him see that he deserves better than false promises and unrequited love
“Took you long enough,” you say, lounging casually on the small leather couch in Charles’ driver’s room, your fingertips tracing intricate patterns on the cushion beside you.
Charles raises an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh as he kicks off his shoes. “Every single time I see you, Y/N, you always have something to say.”
You linger on him. “Is it my fault you had to chat with the entire paddock before coming here?”
He smirks, crossing the room. “It’s called being polite. Something you could learn from.”
“Polite?” You scoff, feigning innocence. “Oh, like how Ferrari celebrated that P3 like it was a win? That kind of polite?”
Charles stiffens but he keeps his cool. “We take what we can get.”
You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Starting on pole and settling for P3? Charles, you deserve better.”
“I know,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze. “But this is racing. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way.”
You lean in closer, your voice dropping an octave. “It could, though. If you were with a team that actually valued you, that gave you a car worthy of your talent.”
He looks up, meeting your gaze with a challenge. “You mean Red Bull?”
A coy smile plays on your lips. “It’s not a secret that Dad wants you. And imagine … you, in a competitive car, and me, right by your side as your race engineer.”
Charles’ eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Tempting,” he murmurs, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But is this for the team or for you?”
“Can’t it be both?” You whisper back.
His breath hitches and he pulls back slightly. “This isn’t just about racing, is it?”
You hesitate. “I see how they treat you. How they let you down time and time again. But with us ... with me ... it would be different.”
He looks conflicted. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” You press. “With Red Bull, you’d have support, a competitive car, and … me.”
Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about what happens on track. It’s about the politics, the contracts, the media ... it’s all complicated.”
“You make it sound like an impossible puzzle,” you say, tracing circles on his wrist. You gaze locks with his, trying to convey everything you feel.
“It might be.”
You lean in, lips just inches from his. “Then let’s solve it together.”
He hesitates, searching your eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”
You smirk, confidence oozing from every pore. “Isn’t that what racing’s all about?”
Charles chuckles softly, the tension in the room slowly melting away. “You always have an answer for everything.”
“It’s the Horner in me,” you retort with a smug smile. “Besides, aren’t you tired of being just another pawn in Ferrari’s game?”
“It’s not easy. To just switch teams, to give up on something you’ve worked for your entire life.”
You reach up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Who says you’re giving up? You’d be making a choice. A choice to be somewhere you’re valued. Somewhere you have a real shot at the championship. With people who truly care about you and actions that reflect that.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just about the racing. There are so many other factors.”
“Like what?”
He opens his eyes, meeting yours. “Like us.”
You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“If I come to Red Bull … if I work with you … it changes everything. Our relationship. Our dynamic. Everything.”
You take a moment, absorbing his words. “We can handle it. We’re strong enough.”
He gives you a sad smile. “I wish I had your confidence.”
You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “You have me. Together, we can face anything.”
Charles looks at you for a long moment, his emotions raw and exposed. Finally, he speaks. “I’ll think about it. But whatever I decide … know that it’s not just about racing. I refuse to give you up.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What?”
You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “Never settle for less than you deserve.”
He smiles, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “Same goes for you, Y/N Horner.”
***
“I still can’t believe they forgot to remove the radiator blank,” you murmur, your fingers softly tracing patterns on Charles’ bare chest as he lies next to you in his São Paulo hotel. The dim light from the bedside lamp paints soft shadows on his face, emphasizing the frustration in his eyes.
Charles sighs heavily, turning his head to look at you. “Neither can I. Another race, another issue. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”
You lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t deserve this, Charles. You’re better than this. Better than them.”
He chuckles humorlessly, eyes closing. “It seems like it’s one thing after another.”
“Come to Red Bull,” you whisper, fingertips dancing down his arm. “You know it’s the right move.”
He opens his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Y/N, we talked about this.”
You press a gentle kiss on his jaw, speaking against his skin. “Hear me out. If McLaren overtakes Ferrari in the Constructors’ standings, you can activate your exit clause. You could leave them, Charles.”
Charles swallows hard, feeling the warmth of your breath on his neck. “And if they don’t?”
“Then we’ll buy you out,” you say confidently, trailing kisses down his collarbone. “Dad’s already spoken about it. We want you. I want you.”
Charles’ breath catches as your hands explore his torso but he tries to focus. “Equal status with Max?”
“Of course,” you assure him, pressing your body flush against his. “You and Max, racing side by side. Just think of the possibilities.”
He groans, both from your touch and the tempting offer. “A car designed by Adrian Newey ...”
You nod, “With plenty of oversteer, just how you like it. No more one-sided compromises.”
He laughs softly. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
You smirk, lips hovering over his. “Always. And instead of Xavi, you’d hear my voice on the other end of the radio, guiding you, supporting you.”
Charles captures your lips with his, deepening the kiss before pulling back. “You’re making it very hard to think.”
“That’s the point,” you whisper with a playful grin, your hands tugging at his waistband.
He bites his lip, trying to resist your charms. “But Y/N ... it’s not just about the racing. It’s ... it’s us. What happens to us?”
You cup his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes. “We fight together, we win together. Every podium, every championship, we celebrate together.”
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You make it sound so perfect.”
“It can be,” you promise, pressing soft kisses on his eyelids. “With Red Bull, you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And me.”
Charles smiles, caressing your cheek. “You’re very persuasive, you know?”
You grin. “It’s one of my many talents.”
He chuckles, capturing your lips once more. “I’ll think about it.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll still be by your side.”
He smiles, pulling you closer. “I know. And that’s what makes this decision so hard.”
***
“Absolutely unbelievable,” your father mutters, watching the replay of Ferrari’s disastrous double stack. “You would think they’ve never done a pit stop before.”
You nod, equally shocked. But your attention shifts as the familiar figure of your favorite Monegasque storms into the Red Bull garage, his helmet still on and visor obscuring his face. You can feel the fury emanating from him.
“Charles?” You question hesitantly.
He doesn’t respond to you but instead turns to your father, “Christian, can we talk? Now. Somewhere private.”
Christian looks taken aback by the intensity in Charles’ voice but nods. “Of course.”
Charles glances at you. “You too, Y/N. Please.”
You follow, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. Once inside the small office, Charles finally removes his helmet, revealing eyes red from restrained tears. He takes a moment, collecting himself before he speaks.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Charles exhales. “Every single time I think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find a new low. Today was the last straw.”
You approach him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”
Your father is equally sympathetic. “That was hard to watch. I can’t even imagine what it felt like.”
Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just today. It’s everything. I gave them everything. I wanted to win with them. For my father. For Jules.”
You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “They would be so incredibly proud of you. No matter what.”
He blinks back tears, voice strained. “I wanted to drive that red car to the top for them. But I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a team that clearly does not value me in return.”
Your father speaks up, “Charles, if you’re thinking of a change ... Red Bull is ready to welcome you with open arms.”
Charles looks up, locking eyes with him. “I know. And as much as Ferrari has been my dream, my home, I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with a team that values me. I want to join Red Bull.”
You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration but the look in his eyes tells you that he’s made up his mind. “Charles,” you whisper, stepping closer. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“It’s hard,” he admits. “But this is where my heart is telling me to go.”
Your father gives the two of you a moment, leaving the office to give you privacy.
Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you close. “I never imagined leaving Ferrari. But after everything, I know it’s the right decision.”
You wrap your arms around him, resting your forehead against his. “They will be so proud of you, Charles. No matter what colors you wear or what car you drive.”
He smiles weakly. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”
You pull back slightly, searching his eyes. “This is a big step. I don’t want you to regret anything. Are you still sure?”
He nods, determination in his gaze. “More than I’ve ever been.”
You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Then welcome to Red Bull.”
***
“I have to tell Ferrari,” Charles straightens, determination evident in his eyes. “I just need to get it over with. Will you come with me?”
“Of course.“
Charles grabs your hand, pulling you towards his driver’s room. “Wait here,” he says, going in and returning moments later with his Ferrari jacket. He places it over your Red Bull team polo, attempting to keep your allegiance concealed for now. You both then proceed to the debrief room where the Ferrari team is waiting.
Fred Vasseur begins his speech the moment you both enter, “This wasn’t how we wanted to end the year but looking ahead to next season—”
Charles cuts him off, “Actually, there won’t be a next season. Not for me.”
The room falls into a tense silence, all eyes on the driver who has given them his heart and soul.
“What do you mean?”
Charles takes a deep breath, “I’ve decided to leave Ferrari.”
Gasps fill the room. Fred’s eyes land on you, finally noticing the Red Bull logo peeking out from under the jacket you’re borrowing. “And you bring her, of all people, here to tell us this?”
Charles squares his shoulders. “Y/N is here because I asked her to be. This decision is mine and mine alone.”
Xavi stands up, “After everything we’ve done for you! This is how you repay us?”
You can’t hold back any longer. “Everything you’ve done? You mean the countless strategy mistakes, the endless car issues, the complete lack of support?”
Another team member cuts in, “This is not your place, Y/N!”
“It is today,” you retort. “I’m here to support my new driver.”
Charles’ voice shakes but he speaks with conviction, “I gave everything for this team. I bled Ferrari red. But I can’t keep doing this. Not when it’s clear that my effort and commitment is not matched in return.”
Fred’s voice softens. “Charles, we’ve had our challenges but we can overcome them together.”
Charles shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m joining Red Bull. My manager will send over the necessary legal paperwork as soon as possible.”
The room is filled with murmurs, disbelief evident on every face. Charles takes one last look around, his eyes filled with pain, and turns to leave.
You follow closely, feeling the weight of every step as you exit the debrief room.
The second you’re around the corner, Charles breaks down. He rests his forehead against the wall, tears rolling down his face silently. “I didn’t ... I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”
You pull him close and try to find the right words. “It was never going to be easy. But you did what you had to. For yourself. For your future.”
He turns to look at you, eyes red-rimmed but determined. “I just wanted to make them proud.”
You cup his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “They would be proud of you. Not for the badge you wear or the car you drive but for the man you’ve become.”
Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you stand there for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.
When he finally pulls away, he manages a weak smile. “Thank you. For standing by me.”
You squeeze his hand. “Always.”
***
***
***
Charles stands in front of the massive two-story trophy wall at the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes, eyes wide with wonder. “Ferrari would never do something so ... gaudy.”
You smirk, sidling up next to him. “And yet, you love it.”
“I do,” he laughs. “It’s … different.”
You lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, Ferrari hasn’t had all that much to exhibit in the last two decades. Not for lack of trying from the drivers, of course.”
He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cheeky.”
The two of you walk further into the factory. “So,” Charles draws out, “I was wondering if you could recommend a good real estate agent in the area.”
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would you need an agent when I have a perfectly good apartment we can share?”
“Really? Are you sure? I just … I wasn’t sure if you would want that and I don’t want to pressure you.”
You roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course I do, Charles. It’s not even a question.”
He smiles, the weight of the decision to move seeming a little lighter now. “Thank you.”
You wink, taking his hand. “Come on, let me show you around.”
As you guide him through the factory, he’s like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “This place is incredible,” he murmurs, running a hand along a piece of machinery.
You grin, pulling him towards the simulator room. “Wait until you see this.”
He steps inside, eyes immediately drawn to the impressive simulator setup. “Wow.”
You gesture for him to sit down, watching as he takes a seat, adjusting the settings. “Ready for your first sim run in the RB20?”
He nods eagerly, “Let’s do it.”
As he starts the simulation, you watch closely, monitoring the data and providing feedback. The two of you work seamlessly together, the connection between race engineer and driver already forming and growing.
After several runs, Charles steps out of the simulator, a huge grin on his face. “That was incredible! The car feels amazing.”
You smile. “I’m glad you think so. The team has put a lot of work into it.”
He pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “I can’t wait to get on track with you on the other side of the radio.”
You pull back, looking into his eyes. “Me too. We’re going to do great things together. I know it.”
He nods. “I know we will too.”
***
“I have to admit,” Charles says, eyes scanning the paddock, “I’m thankful that Mercedes and McLaren are between our motorhome and Ferrari’s. Makes things less ... awkward.”
You glance towards the distant red of the mobile Ferrari building, understanding the sentiment. “Must be weird being so close and yet so far.”
He nods, a hint of melancholy in his gaze as he looks at the place he called home for so long. “It’s bittersweet.”
Pulling him from his thoughts, you nudge him playfully. “Come on, Mr. Pole-Sitter. We have a race to prep for.”
Charles smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. “Always so professional, Miss Horner.”
You grin. “Only when it counts.”
The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage is electric. Mechanics and engineers hustle around, getting everything ready. The RB20 sits gleaming, waiting for its moment to shine.
Charles adjusts his gloves, taking a deep breath. “Feels different,” he admits, looking at you. “Being here, in this car, with this team. But a good kind of different.”
You lean in, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this. It’s just another race.”
He smiles. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in the hot seat.”
“True, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just listen to my voice and trust me.”
“I always do.”
As he gets into the car, you lean in closer to his helmet, your lips touching it’s hard shell. “And Charles? Stay safe out there.”
He looks at you and winks. “I’ll come back to you.”
The race begins with a burst of energy. Charles takes off from pole, holding his position as the field jockeys for placement behind him.
“Good start,” you say through the radio, your voice calm and composed. “Keep it steady.”
“Copy.”
The race is intense, with Charles and Max battling for the lead, their cars dancing on the edge of perfection. The radio chatter between the two of you flows naturally, filled with technical details, strategy adjustments, and the occasional personal quip.
“Feeling the heat from Max?” You tease after a particularly close call between the two Red Bulls.
Charles laughs breathlessly. “Just keeping things interesting for the fans.”
The race continues at a blistering pace, with Charles and Max pushing each other to the limit. But through it all, Charles remains in the lead, with you guiding him from the pit wall.
“Final lap,” you inform. “Bring it home.”
He nods, pushing the car to its limit. The cheers of the crowd grow louder as he crosses the finish line, securing his first victory with Red Bull.
“Amazing job, Charles! I knew you could do it!”
He lets out a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you, team. Thank you, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you all.”
The two of you celebrate the victory, and as the rose water sprays and the cheers of the crowd fill the air, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey together.
***
“You’re sure about the medium tyres, Y/N?” Charles asks nervously as he looks at the other cars lining up. “Everyone else is starting on softs.”
You nod confidently, tapping the race strategy on your clipboard. “Yes. The upside of using the mediums is it gives us flexibility. We can extend our first stint if needed, especially with possible rain on the forecast. While everyone else has to pit early for hards and then again for inters when the rain starts, we’ll only have to pit once. Trust me.”
He inhales deeply, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside. “I do trust you. It’s just ... Ferrari ... the strategies there ...”
“I know,” you interrupt softly, understanding the trauma and distrust years with Ferrari had instilled in him. “But this isn’t Ferrari. It’s Red Bull and we work differently. I’ve got your back.”
“Alright,” he looks into your eyes, finding assurance and conviction there, “let’s do this.”
The race begins, and Charles holds his ground well on the medium tyres, though the drivers running softs initially show quicker pace. But as predicted, the clouds soon darken and the threat of rain becomes increasingly evident.
“Stay focused,” you guide through the radio. “Remember the plan.”
He pushes on, expertly handling the streets of Monaco. The cars around him begin to lose grip and one by one they dive into the pits for hard tyres.
Charles keeps lapping. He moves up the order.
“You’re doing great,” you encourage. “Stick to the plan. We’re right on schedule.”
However, as the first raindrops begin to fall, panic sets in among the other teams on the grid. Those who just pitted for hard tyres are forced to pit again for intermediate tyres, losing precious time.
“Now,” you command, “Box this lap.”
He follows your instruction, driving into the pits, and with a flawless stop by his Red Bull crew, re-emerges in the lead.
The rain continues but Charles navigates the treacherous streets of Monaco expertly, maintaining his lead. When the chequered flag waves, it’s Charles who crosses the line first and finally claims victory at his home Grand Prix.
Tears of joy and relief pour from Charles’ eyes as he takes in the moment. “Thank you,” he says over the radio, voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe it. We did it in Monaco!”
You smile, tears in your own eyes. “We did. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”
He laughs, the sound full of pure joy. “You did. And I’m so glad I did. Thank you for everything.”
As he steps out of the car and jumps on its nose, arms spread wide, the crowd roars in approval, their prince finally crowned in his home race.
Then he rushes to the barriers and jumps into the cheering crowd of dark blue waiting for him. When his sweaty lips find yours surrounded by the celebrating Red Bull team, you take a moment to whisper a promise, “This is just the beginning. It will only get better from here.”
***
The season flies by in a blur of champagne showers. Heading into the Italian Grand Prix, Charles find himself leading the Drivers’ Championship with Max nipping at his heels.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Charles confesses, staring out at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. “This was home. I don’t know how they will react now that I’m no longer wearing red.”
You rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Many fans support the driver, not just the color he wears.”
He takes a deep breath and looks over the crowd. “The Tifosi are different. They bleed Ferrari red. I’m afraid they will see me only as a traitor.”
“You gave them your all,” you counter. “They’ve seen the struggles. They know why you left. They understand. Trust in them and in yourself.”
As the two of you make your way towards the paddock, the familiar chorus of cheers fills the air. But instead of the jeers and boos he feared, a chant begins to rise among the crowd of red: “Charles! Charles! Charles!”
Charles stops in his tracks. “They’re ... they’re cheering for me.”
You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Told you.”
He’s soon swarmed by a group of fans, all clamoring for autographs, photos, and just a moment of his time. It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi remains unbroken.
An older fan steps forward, his Ferrari cap worn with age. “You are still Il Predestinato. We wish it ended differently but we have eyes. We watched the races. We know why you left. No matter what team you drive for, you always have our hearts.”
Charles blinks back tears, deeply touched. “Grazie,” he whispers and claps the fan’s weathered hands in thanks.
Another fan, a young girl with a homemade sign that reads Once a Tifosi, Always a Tifosi, shyly approaches. “We still love you, Charles,” she says.
He kneels down to give her a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking off his Red Bull cap and placing it on her head.
As the day goes on, the support from the Tifosi only grows. They cheer for him during practice, during qualifying, and every time he appears in front of the stands.
It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi is as strong as ever.
That evening, as the two of you sit in the garage looking over data, Charles reflects on his day. “I was so afraid,” he admits. “Afraid of being rejected, of losing their love. But today ... today was incredible.”
You close the analytics. “The Tifosi love you. Not because of the car you drive or the colors you wear but because of who you are. Just like I do.”
He nods slowly. “It’s overwhelming. Monza has always been special to me. To feel this level of love and support ... it’s more than I ever expected.”
You lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “They see your passion. They see how much you give on and off the track. Anyone who does not love and respect you for that needs to reconsider.”
He exhales slowly, “I just ... I wanted to make them proud, to win for them in red and bring glory back to Maranello. But knowing they still support me no matter what ... it means everything.”
You look up into his eyes. “And they always will. Because they know you always gave and will continue to give your best. They love you because they are loved in return.”
He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “For always being my rock, especially in moments like these.”
“Now let’s go out there tomorrow and win.”
***
“Vegas, baby!” Charles shouts, swinging an arm around your shoulders, both of you holding champagne glasses that have been refilled one too many times.
You giggle, distinctly feeling all of the alcohol you’ve consumed. “We won! We did it!”
Charles laughs, pulling you closer. “We did! And do you know what people do when they’re in love and win in Vegas?”
You think about it for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes. “Get ... married?”
Charles nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Y/N Horner, will you marry me tonight?”
You don’t hesitate, “Hell yes!”
The two of you, in your drunken stupor, begin your mission to find a wedding chapel. However, before you can get very far, Max spots you and quickly catches on to what you’re planning.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going with Y/N?”
Charles replies with a sloppy grin, “To make her Mrs. Leclerc!”
Max bursts into laughter, trying to play the voice of reason. “Mate, as much fun as that sounds, I think you might want to sleep on that idea.”
But you’re not having it. “No, Max! We’re in love and it’s Vegas. We’re doing it!”
Before the conversation can escalate further, your father joins the fray, looking both amused and concerned. “What on earth is going on here?”
Max chuckles, “Your daughter and Charles here have some ... ambitious plans for the evening.”
You pout and stumble slightly, “Daddy, we want to get married! Right now!”
Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Married? Tonight? Seriously?”
Charles nods with absolute seriousness, though his precarious swaying contradicts his tone. “Christian, I love your daughter. And we won. In Vegas. So ... wedding?”
Your father places a firm hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Listen, Charles, I have no doubt about your feelings for Y/N. But my baby girl deserves the world. When and if you ever decide to propose, I expect you to get down on one knee, stone-cold sober, and ask her properly.”
Charles blinks, processing the words. “But ... Vegas?”
You laugh and go to hug your father, almost falling over in the process. “He’s right. Let’s just enjoy tonight. And if we still feel like getting married in the morning, we can discuss it then.”
Max smirks, “Trust me, you’ll thank us in the morning. If you can even remember this conversation, that is.”
***
“Charles,” you begin, your voice echoing in his helmet, “The team has made the call. You and Max are free to race. No team orders.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood. May the best man win.”
The tension in the garage skyrockets as soon as the lights go out. It’s evident that this is going to be an epic battle from the very first turn. Max and Charles swap places multiple times, pushing their cars to the very edge of their limits.
“Breathe,” you remind him calmly as the laps go by, “Don’t loose sight of the race as a whole. There’s a championship at stake.”
The entire race is a blur of overtakes, pit strategies, and nail-biting moments. The two Red Bull cars battle wheel-to-wheel lap after lap. One side of the garage against the other.
Coming into the final laps, Charles is right on Max’s tail — the championship hanging in the balance between them.
You know there’s not much you can do to guide him anymore … it’s all up to Charles.
“Last lap,” you try to sound composed despite the pounding of your heart. “You can do this.”
The cheers and gasps of the crowd are deafening as Charles makes his move, taking the inside line and overtaking Max on the penultimate turn.
“Push now! Just a few more corners.”
As Charles crosses the finish line, the enormity of the moment crashes over both of you.
“Charles Leclerc,” you scream over the radio as tears stream down your face, “you are the World Champion!”
“Yeeeesssss! Yes! Yes! I ... I can’t believe it. This is ... thank you, everyone. To the entire Red Bull team, you’ve given me the chance to chase and achieve my dreams. To my friends, my family, to every single person who’s been by my side, believed in me, and supported me … thank you. And Y/N, you’ve been my rock and my oxygen. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you! Thank you. Thank you so much!”
***
“Whew! That was a lot of rose water!” Charles laughs, wiping the bubbly liquid from his eyes.
You chuckle and try to wring out your hair. “You didn’t have to drench me, you know!”
Charles grins cheekily. “It’s a special occasion, after all. Both of us on this podium? It’s a dream!”
Then suddenly, he turns serious and signals to his brother in the crowd below, who throws him a small leather box. Charles catches it and promptly lowers himself down on one knee in front of you, making the crowd fall into a stunned silence.
“I tried this in Vegas,” he starts with a laugh, “But I might have been too drunk and missed a few pretty important steps.”
Charles takes a deep breath and his eyes lock onto yours, saying everything that words would never be sufficient to. “Y/N, being on this podium with you, winning the World Championship, it’s the pinnacle of my career. But what we have ... it’s the pinnacle of my life. I can’t imagine going on this journey with anyone else, facing the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. Will you marry me?”
Tears flow steadily down your cheeks and you nod with a fervor that would make bobbleheads jealous, “Yes! There’s no one else I’d want to spend forever with.”
The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, the deafening roar echoing around the Yas Marina Circuit. Max gives a loud whistle, his face lit up with a big grin next to you on the podium stage.
Charles rises to his feet and pulls you close, attacking your lips as the crowd goes wild.
“Promise me we won’t head to a chapel right after this race?” You joke, sniffling and giggling at the same time.
Charles laughs, looking slightly sheepish. “I promise, mainly because I’m too young to die and your father would definitely kill me if I even thought about pulling the stunt we tried in Vegas again. You deserve a fairytale wedding.”
You press your face against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as fireworks explode overhead. “All I need for my fairytale is you.”
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all in a day's quirk | sero hanta
pairing: Sero Hanta / Fem Reader
length: 5.3k
summary: Sero gets hit with a quirk that makes others see him as the person they are most attracted to. Which you really wish you had known before you opened your mouth and gave him your usual, “Hey, Sero!”
tags/warnings: pro hero au, fluff, misunderstandings, quirk accident, not actually unrequited feelings, smut, thigh riding, fem reader (no pronouns but AFAB genitalia terms used), aged up characters
It was approximately four thirty-three p.m. when Sero Hanta returned from patrol and blew your peaceful day to bits.
Before his arrival, the Todoroki Agency had been relatively quiet, as it usually was around this time, everyone but the on-call staff winding down for the day. You’d been hearing the telltale rustling of jackets and scuffle of feet in the office behind you since the clock ticked past four.
Not long after, a couple of your friends from the analytics department had wandered over to your desk, clearly deciding they were not going to get anything else done, gossiping and stealing the candies you kept in a glass bowl on the reception counter.
“I heard Shouto’s manager is considering signing him up for a shirtless charity calendar,” Mari told you immediately, wiggling her eyebrows. “Hana from brand management said she was asked to do research on the impact the calendar had on other pros’ careers, so I think this is serious.”
She looked beyond pleased, her cheeks pink and her ears tipped red, the way they always were when she contemplated her massive crush on your agency head, Todoroki Shouto.
You couldn’t fault her–Shouto was incredibly handsome and kind, if a bit spacey–but you’d always been drawn to a different pro hero on the agency roster. Someone just a little bit taller, with dark hair and a half-moon grin, a razor sharp sense of humor, and the most inconceivably mouth-watering thighs in the pro hero business.
Not that you had been giving them attention. Much.
You suppressed the urge to ask if anyone else from the agency was being considered for the calendar, wiggling your eyebrows back. “Well I know you’ll be the first in line.”
Mari’s blush deepened, and Kimiko laughed around an orange-flavored candy, which you stocked for many reasons other than a certain tape-themed hero’s predilection for oranges, thank you very much.
“I just hope they include Uravity-san,” Kimiko said. “I mean–not shirtless shirtless, but like, god would I kill for her in a little sports bra.”
Kimiko sounded unaffected, but you’d literally hidden her beneath your desk the time pro heroes Uravity and Deku visited for an agency team-up with the Todoroki office. She’d spent the entire time peering out with big eyes, muttering under her breath, “I am so gay. So very very gay.”
You didn’t doubt if Uravity were included in the spread, Kimiko might even beat Mari out for the first spot in line.
“You both have such kind hearts,” you laughed. “So eager to give to charity.”
“I’m a lifelong philanthropist,” Mari agreed, picking up your pen and doodling hearts all over your office stationery. You noticed she colored in only the left side, and suppressed another laugh.
Whatever. You knew what it was to be that whipped, even if you’d never do anything about it.
As huge as your thing was for Sero, there wasn’t a chance in hell he returned your affections. He was incredibly friendly, but over the past few years, he’d never even given a hint that he was into you like that. He’d treated you with the same easy cheer and subjected you to the same good-natured roasting he did everyone else in the agency.
And now was not the time to go looking for more, anyway. You’d recently become close enough to see Sero outside of work and you were not about to endanger that–you’d been invited to a house party of his a couple months ago, gone to drinks with him and a couple of agency people after work, and even grabbed dinner alone a few times over the past few weeks. You’d been texting memes practically nonstop this entire week alone.
He was so much fun, always quick with a joke, a wink, or an interesting story, and he wasn’t afraid to tell things like they were. You forgot time was passing when you were with him, and sometimes when you went out, you stayed out long enough that you thought he might, too.
So you were finally reaching a stage in your friendship where Sero clearly felt close and comfortable—you would not press for more.
It was just, sometimes, when he smiled down at you with that clever, mischievous grin, your heart felt like it was experiencing some sort of medical event. Sometimes, when he put his dark hair up into a messy half-bun, those biceps cording as he did so, it felt like someone had just vacuumed all the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Sometimes, when he leaned down to whisper something to you in his most conspiratorial tones, it felt like someone had spiked your brain into a blender and pureed it into mush.
But it was cool.
You knew how to play it cool.
Mari pulled you back to earth with the promise of more gossip—this time, about her arch nemesis in accounting—and Kimiko leaned in, offering her own commentary over the unwrapping of another of your candies.
And then the clock struck four thirty-three, and Sero Hanta returned from patrol.
You heard the telltale mechanic ping of an agency badge passing checkpoint, and peeked around Kimiko to see Sero trudging through the doorway, looking strangely contemplative. He was covered in dirt and his uniform was slashed in several places, including a great deal of shredding about the thighs, which you would have been happier about if he didn’t look so unusually subdued.
He didn’t look hurt at any rate, so that was good. But you couldn’t help but call out to him.
“Hey Sero!” you said, curious about his demeanor. “How’d patrol go? Something happen?”
Kimiko and Mari turned around, and you watched as both of them seemed to freeze up. Kimiko’s hand slapped against the reception counter, the sound echoing through the room, gripping tightly as though she’d suddenly seen a ghost.
“Ur–Uravity-san,” she said, dipping into the most formal bow you’d ever seen her make. “What’s brought you here?”
You felt your mouth pull into a frown, staring at the back of her head in absolute bamboozlement. Was she seeing things? The only person in the doorway was Sero, and he was very much unaccompanied.
His helmet was propped between his hip and his elbow, so his face was clear too–so Kimiko didn’t even have the excuse of not being able to see his face, different though his costume was from Uravity’s.
Sero blinked, his mouth pulling into a semi-puzzled grin. “Uravity?”
Mari was slapping Kimiko before you could inquire the same thing, hissing, “Are you losing it? That’s fucking Shouto.” She turned back to pin you with something between a glare and a concerned, assessing gaze, as if you too had lost your marbles.
You frowned back, your own concern deepening. “I’m sorry–are you guys seriously telling me that Shouto and Uravity are here with Sero?” You peered back around Mari at Sero, quirking a brow at him. “Did they get hit with some kind of invisibility quirk or are these two experiencing some kind of hallucination?”
Maybe too much shirtless calendar talk had gotten them too hot and bothered.
Sero’s dark gaze pinned you, and he quickly came tromping over, his boots echoing on the stone flooring. He leaned over the reception counter, pointing to his face with one long, pretty finger. “Wait, you can tell it’s me?”
He smelled like cement and sweat and dust, and something vaguely minty, like he’d been chewing gum recently. You tried not to let your expression show how much you liked the look of him up close, those hooded dark eyes, his wide, charming mouth.
“Um, yes? I have eyeballs?” you wondered.
Sero blinked, leaning in closer. Your heartbeat ticked up. “You’re sure?”
“Should I not be…sure?” you asked. “Are Shouto and Uravity really with you and I’m the only one who can’t see them?”
Sero shook his head, “Nah–it’s just me.”
You frowned up at him, curious. “Then why are they calling you Shouto and Uravity…?”
Sero shook his dark head. His hair was pulled into that half-bun you loved, the way it usually was under his helmet on patrol, and all mussed from whatever run in he’d had. You tried not to think about what other activities might get his hair all mussed like that.
He smiled, something wide and conspiratorial. “Got hit with some kinda illusion quirk. People have stopped me like a thousand times on my way in to ask for All Might’s autograph, or Hawks’, and even Bakugou’s. They’re lucky it was just me, he’d have thrown a shit fit getting cut off in the street like that.”
Sero’s features shifted into something slightly more contemplative again. “But you’re somehow immune, huh?”
You frowned. “Shouldn’t you get checked out at medical, then?”
His eyes softened, and another grin made its way onto his mouth. “Yeah yeah, I’ll head right there.”
Kimiko and Mari were still gaping over at him like he was a miracle, and some strange feeling came over you, a concerned little squeeze of your heart. You grabbed Mari, plonking her down into your seat in your stead. “Cover me for a couple minutes? Just say people are unavailable and take notes and I’ll figure it out when I get back. I’m gonna run down to medical with Sero for a second.”
Mari nodded dumbly.
You pulled Sero’s helmet out of his grip, resting it in the crook of your own elbow, and gestured him down the hall with you. Sero fell into step beside you, keeping up easily with his long stride. He grinned down at you, seemingly unperturbed that he’d gotten hit with a quirk that had all but erased his identity in the eyes of others.
It was something you admired in him, his inherent good-naturedness.
You wondered why you were the only one who could tell it was him.
“Any good gossip while I was gone?” he asked, like he really couldn’t be fussed about his predicament. “I was starting to hear shirtless calendar talk before I had to head out on patrol.”
You suppressed a flush and fought down the urge to ask if he’d been asked to be in it too.
You did not need to know.
“Whatever the hell is going on with you is the spiciest bit of gossip all day,” you told him, rounding a corner and badging into the stairwell down to the medical floor. You clung to the railing carefully and most definitely did not watch his thighs bunch as he took the stairs. “Want a drink after work? It seems like you could use one, after this.”
Sero smiled, an eyebrow raising. “Trying to get me drunk, huh?”
You wrinkled your nose. “As if I’d need to be so underhanded.”
You did. You did need to be so underhanded.
Sero had to angle himself carefully through the door, his shoulder pieces liable to snag on the doorway with the breadth of those pro hero shoulders. The medic on staff took one look at him and flushed, mumbling out a name you didn’t know.
You piped in before she could say more. “Cellophane’s been hit with a quirk that makes him appear like someone else. It’s not whoever you think!”
She blinked curiously, but then nodded, probably having seen much weirder things in her time as a hero agency staffer. She gestured Sero to a cot on the side of the room. “Alright, please sit down, Cellophane. We’ll do a couple quick tests and then get you sorted with the right quirk cancellation.” Her cheeks seemed to heat again as she spoke, but she made good on her promise, disappearing down the hall, calling to someone for quirk testing strips.
Sero hopped up on the cot, swinging those long legs, grinning at you from eye-level, now. “Think I should prank a couple people before they cancel it?”
You rolled your eyes. “Only you would be having fun with this. No one in the world knows who you are!”
The corner of Sero’s mouth pulled wryly. “You do.”
“You don’t know if that could change, dude. Better get it over with before you get stuck as like, Endeavor forever.”
Sero laughed, light and airy. “Shouto wouldn’t hang with me anymore.”
You nodded. “Exactly, and none of the rest of us read the same weird manga you guys are into so you’d be all alone with no one to fanboy about it to.”
The medic returned with a thick silvery strip, pulling on blue nitrile gloves as she did so. Sero held his arm out obligingly, the lean muscle flexing in the fluorescence of the office lighting. She peeled off the backing of the strip, pressing it to Sero’s forearm, pushing it down firmly.
She attached a cable to some screened device, and you listened to the beep of various buttons. Sero watched you over her shoulder, his easy smile still in place.
Finally, the device in the medic’s hand beeped, and she pulled back, announcing somewhat shyly, “An attraction-type quirk.”
You blinked, mystified. A what?
Sero’s grin seemed to freeze on his face, and his thin brows furrowed the tiniest bit.
The medic continued, oblivious. “This quirk creates an illusion. External parties will perceive the affectee with the traits or as the person they are most attracted to.”
Sero’s dark eyes snapped to yours, widening, and you fumbled a step back, almost tripping over yourself. You threw out a hand, barely catching yourself on the counter.
No.
Oh fuck no.
If people were seeing who they were most attracted to…and you had just seen Sero the whole time…
That would mean—that would mean—and he had heard you say—
“Oh my god, I just remembered I have to get back to Mari,” you said, offering Sero a wave of your suddenly numb hand. “Can’t, um, strand her at the desk for too long. I’ll leave you guys to it. Uh, yeah. Thanks–bye!”
You quickly threw yourself out through the door, leaving Sero alone with the medic. You dashed back up the stairwell, your heartbeat shooting into your mouth.
How could this be happening? How unbelievably embarrassing was that? You’d worked so hard to play it cool in front of Sero for all this time, for years, really, and you’d finally just made it to a comfortable place as friends.
And then—and then—some attraction-illusion quirk goes and blows your cover, just like that? For real?
And he’d heard you, too. Heard you say, “Hey, Sero!” as soon as he’d come through the door, before anyone had revealed anything about who else they thought he might be instead. Before you could have possibly had any clue that he’d been quirked.
You could die of mortification.
You shooed Mari and Kimiko away from the desk when you got back, quickly readying your things to get the hell out of the office as soon as your night replacement arrived. You cleaned up all the bi-colored hearts Mari had doodled on every available surface of your desk and refilled the candy bowl Kimiko had apparently seen fit to devastate in your absence, your ears heating with the thought that Sero could catch on now, why you stocked orange candies.
God, could your replacement hurry the fuck up before Sero got back here?
But the night receptionist was predictably late, of course, and by the time you finally saw him badge through the front entrance you could hear quick, booted steps across the tile behind you.
Sero’s voice sounded over the back of your chair, just as a long-fingered hand closed around your wrist.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice more careful than you’d ever heard it. “Still up for that drink? I think maybe we could talk over it.”
The night receptionist nodded at you and Sero as he made his way over, and you gave up your chair to him, collecting your bag with Sero’s warm fingers still clutching your wrist. You slowly worked up the courage to look up at him, face heating as you took in his uncharacteristically intent expression. His face had been cleaned and it looked like some antibiotic had been applied to some of the scrapes along his jaw.
You knew then you’d trapped yourself. Though it was probably also better to get things over with now than avoid the subject forever.
“Okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice normal. “Yeah, let’s talk.”
Sero was the nicest dude ever, you had to remember that. Even when it came down to a rejection, he would still be completely kind and friendly. Probably not too much would change on his end afterwards either. You couldn’t imagine him avoiding you or treating you any differently.
“My place okay?” Sero asked as you shrugged on your bag.
You nodded, and he smiled, nearly as wide and silly as he normally did, tinged with only the slightest bit of shyness.
You’d originally planned to take him out somewhere fun, but this conversation was probably best had in private. And Sero’s place was close, an apartment only a couple blocks’ walk, in a charming little neighborhood fringed by a park and a variety of interesting bars and cafes. Sero chatted away with his usual friendly ease as you walked, still in his shredded hero costume, waving to the couple people that recognized him as you did so.
Your stomach flipped as he opened his front door, gesturing you inside under his arm. He was tall and lanky enough that you fit easily, and you caught a whiff of that minty scent again under all the dust that coated his uniform. You tried not to look too closely at the lines of his bicep as you passed under it.
His apartment was just as you’d remembered it; spacious, casually decorated in neutral tones with splashes of interesting patterns spread across the rug, throw pillows, and his collection of wall hangings. It smelled cottony and clean, and Sero gestured you to his couch as he dumped his helmet and boots in the doorway, shrugging off his shoulder pieces.
“A beer cool?” he asked as he made his way into the kitchen. “I’ve got a couple of good ones.”
“Sounds great,” you told him, listening to the sounds of him cracking the caps.
To your surprise he plopped down on the couch next to you as he came back in, handing you a bottle. It was cold, and your fingers made little prints in the condensation where you touched it.
“So,” he said, turning to you, a sly look in his dark eyes. “You wanna talk about what just happened?”
Your face flamed, and you took a quick sip of your beer to give you time to recover yourself. It was sour on your tongue, a hint of orange peel in its profile.
“No,” you told him honestly, giving him a self-conscious smile, which he returned. “I think it’s pretty clear, actually. You got hit by a quirk that shows people the person they’re most attracted to and I, uh, obviously saw, um, you.”
Sero’s grin pulled wider at the edges, surprising you. If you didn’t know better, you would think he liked hearing that. Although maybe it was a little bit of an ego stroke to hear you were someone’s fantasy man, even if you didn’t return their feelings.
“Not All Might and not Bakugou,” he said, something pleased in his tone.
You blinked at him, disturbed by those insinuations. “Definitely not,” you sniffed. “I am a paragon of taste.”
Sero laughed, his fingers flexing on the side of his beer. Then he took a sip, seeming to contemplate something as he did, and you drew yourself together, preparing for the inevitable. That was definitely a look that said he was thinking hard, probably about the best way to let you down.
But then Sero grinned back down at you, leaning in collusively. “You wanna know something?”
You could feel your brows raise curiously, even as your heartbeat picked up with his proximity. You looked down, then accidentally spied the strips of tanned thigh where his costume had torn, and had to quickly reroute your gaze for fear of staring. “That depends.”
Sero’s grin went even more sly. “I think if you’d been hit with that quirk, I’d have known it was you too.”
Your heartbeat slammed to a halt in your chest. It was only when Sero threw a hand out that you realized you’d lost your grip on your beer, his quick reflexes the only thing saving his carpet. You startled at the sudden move, making a weird arm-flinging motion somewhere between grabbing for your beer and grabbing onto him, ending up accidentally smacking him in the chest instead.
“Fuck, I—sorry!” you garbled out, stunned by his sudden proximity and the fistful of his costume you’d taken. His skin was warm against the side of your hand.
Sero blinked, looking taken aback for a moment. Then he shifted, and you heard the clink of two beers being deposited on his coffee table. You swallowed, unable to look away from him, and you watched his dark eyes rove over your face, before dipping down to stare at something just under your nose.
A shiver prickled up your spine.
“So when you—with the quirk—” you tried, but your brain had gone offline, and the right set of words were not coming to you. “Um, when you say—you would have known—?”
Sero’s grin crept back across his mouth. “I mean that I’d have seen you, because I’ve been wanting to ask you out and trying to figure out if you're into me for months.”
It had to be the shock of this admission that registered you so stupid. “You—months? Try years.”
Sero’s laugh beat back the instant wave of mortification that overcame you in the next second, when you realized what'd you'd just said. You could only smile back helplessly, equally pleased and embarrassed. He looked so good right then, too, grinning toothily, his hair a mess, his costume torn to shreds. He really was the most gorgeous guy you had ever seen, that quirk had totally had your number.
It suddenly dawned on you that you had little else to lose now, with everything out in the open. And when Sero looked like that—sly, pleased, and a little bit of a mess—you thought you were done trying to bury things.
A thrill zinging down your spine, you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.
He’d been laughing, and you only caught the edge of his mouth, but Sero quickly corrected. You could feel his lips go slack in surprise for a second, and then he was schooling himself and returning your kiss with abandon.
Long fingers came up to take your chin, holding you firmly in place. It was so unexpectedly bold that you shuddered, kissing him harder. Your hand tangled further in the fabric of his costume, gripping onto him for dear life as his tongue met yours, twisting and teasing. It was so like him, the way he kissed. Teasing, playful, easy. Your head spun with how much you liked it.
“Aw fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Sero said, when he finally pulled away far enough to enunciate the words. He shifted against you, putting a large palm against your back, pulling you to him. You followed his guidance, climbing into his lap, chasing his mouth again. You wanted more—more now that you thought you could have it.
“I’ve been wanting—for years—” you said, squeaking in surprise when Sero guided you down onto a strong thigh. It was hard and thick and way too muscular to be allowed, and your breath left you in a harsh hiss. And because this was the most embarrassing day of your life, Sero clocked it immediately, leaning forward in interest.
“You—like that? My—thigh?” he asked curiously.
You could feel your face burning, like someone had just dunked it in a bucket of hot coals. “I–yes. I like everything about you. Including your thighs,” you admitted.
Sero’s hand guided you back down against him, pressing his knee up experimentally. A thrill sang through your veins at the feeling of a piece of him so warm and firm right up against your core. You barely bit back the noise you wanted to make.
“Fuck, this is weirdly hot,” Sero said, leaning in to take your mouth again. You could feel him growing hard against your knee through the fabric of his costume, as his tongue flicked against yours, making your brain go a little woozy.
His arms came around you, holding your waist as he ground his leg up into you, sending a wave of pleasure striking through you like lightning. The moan you’d been trying to hold in finally broke free of you. “Ah—Hanta!”
The sound seem to spark something in him. Sero surged up, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he kissed you, still rocking you against his thigh in a way that made you see stars. You had the wild thought that everything about him was more than you’d ever imagined it would be, from the delicate press of his fingers to the warmth of his thigh to the way the strands of his hair that had escaped brushed across your forehead. Embarrassingly fast, like he knew exactly how to play you, he worked you up to the crest of your pleasure.
You had to put a hand to his chest to stop him.
“Hanta, if you—I’m going to cum if we don’t stop—” you said.
“Oh my god please,” was his only answer, and he pulled you down onto his thigh with renewed vigor. Sparks of pleasure pricked all over your body as he kissed you again, his hands roaming every inch of exposed skin. He left bruising kisses down the side of your throat, fingers playing with your nipples.
Another few rocks into his thigh sent you right over the edge, and he held you against him as you rode it out, squirming against his thigh.
“This is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me,” he said, something in his tone making it clear he was not done with you yet.
He helped you wiggle out of your pants, freeing himself of his own costume, and laid you out over his couch, grinning. He was golden with a fading summer tan, and his smile was so wide and charming and white against the dimming light from the windows. He was gloriously lean, hard with dense, compact stretches of muscle, every single inch of him honed from years of hero work. He was perfect—so stupidly, handsomely, perfect.
Between his thighs, his cock was just as long and lean, heavy and flush with arousal. It made you dizzy to think that this man, who you’d crushed on for so long, wanted you like this—wanted you back in the same way you’d always wanted him. You motioned him closer, too eager now to be self-conscious about it.
Sero laughed, a happy noise. “Fuck, you’re so pretty though.” He stretched out over you, sliding in between your thighs and guiding himself into you. His chest pressed to yours, hot and slick with a light sheen of sweat already, and you hissed with the feeling of him slipping inside you.
You felt drunk with arousal, crazy with want. You clutched him to you as he moved, thrusting carefully at first, as if testing the feeling of you, and then more firmly. You let out soft noises you hadn't meant to, which Sero seemed to appreciate.
“God, look at you. Listen to you,” he said, grinning down at you, his dark eyes tracing over you. “I can’t believe I got hit with that quirk. This is the luckiest day of my life—you’re so cute. So—fuck—so perfect.”
He slid into a frustratingly sedate pace, strokes long and languid, stretching out almost teasingly. You wrapped your legs more tightly around his hips, trying to press him into you, but his smile just widened. He moved leisurely, setting his own pace, just on the wrong side of too slow.
It drove you insane, somehow working you up even faster than if he’d been doing what you wanted. You muffled the sounds of your own moans against his lips, gripping onto those broad shoulders. Sero’s own fingers slid down to your clit, playing with you just as lightly and teasingly as his thrusts.
You could have killed him, but all you could do was hold onto him, slurring his name appreciatively.
He worked you like that for a while, bringing you close but never too close, drawing out the feeling into something warm and fizzy, like soda left in the sun. But eventually the band of his control seemed to snap, and he began thrusting into you harder, faster. Those long, lovely fingers circled your clit with more intent as he did, murmuring a steady stream of praise.
“Please—cum with me,” he panted into your mouth, as his fingers drew ever-tightening circles over you. “I want you to come with me, Y/N. Can you—can you do that?”
You nodded frantically as his thrusts grew faster, sloppier. He was so good inside you, so good over you, his fingers such a delicious pressure against your clit. It only took a few thrusts more, a few strokes of those careful fingers, and then you were squirming against him in earnest, your veins going molten with pleasure.
“Hanta—I’m going to—!”
“Yessss,” he hissed, and then he was orgasming too, spilling out his pleasure inside of you. His hips slapped yours in a stuttering pattern, half-crazed, and you shook against him, gasping. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you crested the wave, until finally—finally you went limp against him, just as his own body relaxed over you.
“I want to be hit with a quirk all the time,” he said, ridiculously.
You couldn’t help but laugh, smiling into his shoulder. “Don’t make a habit of it.”
Sero hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. If this is what I get every time, then…” he trailed off, smirking down at you.
“I’m not going to bang you if you’re going to be irresponsible,” you told him.
He perked up, however, those dark eyes peering at you hopefully. “But you’ll bang me otherwise?”
You laughed again, pinching him lightly on the arm where you held him. “What do you think having a crush on you for years means?”
His grin went all sly and pleased again. “Then I’ll have to lock it down, of course. I haven’t spent months wondering just to let you get away. Starting with dinner this evening, maybe. Do you—would dinner be okay?” he asked. The sound of genuine, eager hope in his voice was so gratifying it made you want to kick your legs in the air.
You settled for nodding instead. “Dinner sounds amazing.”
“Then I’ll arrange the finest takeout just for you,” he said, which you knew from experience meant the empanadas place around the corner. You laughed again, feeling full already with the promise of an easy meal, and a relationship to come.
“Whatever you want sounds good to me,” you said, even as he began to slide off of you, helping you up alongside him. “You’ve had a crazy day today, empanadas sound like the perfect cap.”
Sero leaned in, his expression as mischievous and charming as always. “It’s nothing,” he said, even as he carefully held out your shirt to you again, guiding you into it in an unexpectedly gentlemanly move. You let him stuff you into it, laughing, smiling into the kiss he gave you as you emerged.
He winked at you as he found his phone and dialed, smiling as you heard the call connect. “After all, I'm a hero," he said. "And it’s all in a day’s work.”
#sero x you#sero x reader#sero x y/n#sero hanta x reader#hanta sero x reader#hanta sero x you#bnha x reader#sero smut
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Bakugo understands that he spends a lot of money on you for just being his personal assistant. But he can't help it.
You honestly deserve it. You're smart, responsible, diligent. You're a hard worker with principles, and your work ethic is something he respects.
It didn't matter how many people were against him promoting you from secretary to PA so soon in your career. Your work was top notch, and you kept him organised.
Sure, you were pretty as well, a sight for sore eyes, really. But that wasn't his fault, was it? It wasn't your fault either.
It's not like you came into work every day with full glam, diamond earrings, or elaborate hairstyles.
It had pissed him off at first, when people demeaned you or underestimated your work because of your looks, especially when he knew you worked so hard so you wouldn't be considered some dumb corporate bimbo.
But now? Now he loved it. He loved when he had clients over, and they'd do a double take when he sent for you to take notes or deliver documents to his table.
He'd noticed the modesty with which you'd dressed when you first started working for him, how you tried to dim yourself with drab colours that obviously washed you out, or plain hairstyles.
Not like it stopped anybody from being able to tell how pretty you were.
But after, when you'd started garnering his attention and racking up more bonuses from your diligence, he began noticing you wearing nicer things.
Of course, you had to up your wardrobe once you were promoted to the role of Personal Assistant to one of the biggest heroes in Japan. But that wasn't it.
Bakugo loved seeing you walk in with a new shirt or new shoes or new earrings after he'd rewarded you a bonus or a pay increase. There was a sort of high he got, knowing that you took care of yourself with the money he gave you.
Oh, he spoilt you rotten.
Month end rewards became the norm for you. He just closed a hefty advertising deal? Best believe you were getting a cut out of that. He was given a bottle of champagne as a gift? You're drinking it with him in his office.
Sure, it may have seemed a bit inappropriate to some people; him locking the doors and closing the windows, and having you sit on his lap prettily whilst he poured it out into a flute for you.
Sure, it was inappropriate for him to have his hands up your skirt as you recounted the month end figures for him, but you were comfortable that way. He was, too. Oh, so comfortable with your hands inside his trousers and his teasing at the lining of your panties.
He was just taking care of his best employee.
And maybe he did spend a lot of money on you, but you had to keep up appearances. He needed you looking your best when you were next to him.
It wasn't his fault you were so beautiful that brands reached out to him to get you to model for then after seeing you appear in some pictures by his side.
It wasn't his fault that he couldn't get anyone else to come with him to the Hero Gala. Besides, you're meant to be with him during these things to take notes for him. So having you as his date was basically killing two birds with one stone.
"Your assistant's fucking sexy," Kaminari whispered into Bakugo's ear, both of them watching you go to order a drink for your boss.
Bakugo smirked to himself, his eyes raking over your body, clad in the tight fitting dress he'd bought for you to wear. He'd also bought the earrings you had on, and the shoes and the necklace. Sure, it cost him quite a lot, but he just couldn't help it when you looked so good.
"She's single, isn't she?"
Now, that had him snapping his head in Kaminari's direction. "Don't even fucking think about."
Kaminari whined, "But why? She's your assistant, not your sister or your girlfriend."
"She's my assistant," Bakugo seethed, standing up from his seat. "She's my employee, and I won't have you lowering her efficiency." He murmured as he made his way to where you were.
You smiled brightly as you turned around to see him, handing him the second glass of champagne in your hands. "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else." You laughed softly.
He grinned down at you before downing the drink quickly. "I would," he said before dropping his glass back on the bar. "Come on."
He spoilt you rotten, but he couldn't help it. You looked so beautiful in your tight dress and pretty hair and beautiful face.
Sure, being seated on the sink and having your legs spread before his lips in the bathroom at the Hero Gala may have been a tad inappropriate, but how could he stop himself?
You were quivering for him, thighs pressing down and shaking on either side of his head, and your fingers gripping harshly at his hair, pulling him even closer as you rutted your heat against his lips.
He let out a desperate groan, burying his face deeper into your cunt, eating you out shamelessly, hungrily.
"Fuuck..." He growled into you.
You'd been so shy the first time he had his way with you, refusing to touch him, grind on him, behaving so meek and cute.
Now look at you, so selfish and desperate, almost suffocating him as he feasted. He spoilt you rotten, sure, but you deserved every morsel of it.
"Katsuki..." You whined desperately, your back arching off the mirror, the hand not pulling at his hair tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "Katsuki, I'm so close... I'm so fucking close, baby-"
His hands dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling your harsher into him, your clit pressing against his nose as his tongue made a meal of you. He was always so desperate for it, digging the wet muscle so far into your pussy you saw stars.
And he was messy too, his saliva and your arousal staying your thighs, dripping from the marble counter unto the ground as he ate from you.
Anyone who came in after would probably be able to tell from the smell of the bathroom alone. The cum leaking unto the floor would only solidify it.
But the thought of someone finding out that your boss had his face buried deep in your pussy wasn't exactly what you were thinking about when you came for him, hard and rough, your hips shaking and raising off the counter as you rode out your high.
"We shouldn't be doing such during events, sir." You whispered to him as you both walked down the corridors back into the hall where the gala was being held.
He had his large palm over your ass, groping you just in the dark of the hallway, letting go just as you stepped into the crowded hall.
"Just be a good girl and wait for me to fuck you on the way home, hm?" He smirked at you, a small sheen still visible on his lips.
He never cleaned his mouth properly after eating you out during such events. It was inappropriate, sure, but he just couldn't help himself.
#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#mha bakugou#bakugo smut
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i have a name | l.s
a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister
summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much
Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'
But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.
Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.
The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.
"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.
"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.
"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.
You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."
Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.
You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.
It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.
"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.
"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.
"That bad huh?"
"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."
The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.
"You get used to it." You shrugged.
"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."
"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.
"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.
"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.
"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.
You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."
-x-
"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.
"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.
He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"
"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.
You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.
"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"
"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.
"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."
Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."
"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.
It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.
Y/N:
Thank you again for tonight.
His response was quick making your stomach flutter.
Logan:
You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N
Y/N:
I know
I enjoyed talking to you tonight
So thank you for your company 😊
Logan:
I enjoyed talking to you too 😊
I hope we can do it again some time
You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.
Y/N:
I would love to ☺️
Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙
Logan:
Good luck Y/N 😊
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Househusband Au HC'S
Summary:Crewel/Crowley/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia x gn!reader
Requested by @stygianoir
A/N: my tag list is still packed so hopefully you guys find this 😂
CW:sus gardener Rook, discussions of Idia's depression and fear of death, but I think that's it
Part Two. Part Three
Most well dressed parent at the PTA meeting. Puts everyone to shame, and makes all the other parents and teachers jealous.
Cooks five star meals exclusively , and makes sure you get your proper intake of nutrients. He can't have his favorite pup lacking in proper nutrition!
One hundred percent coordinates your outfits for you everyday. You're the best dressed worker, all because your husband hand sews you outfits designed to blow the competition out of the water.
Pretends he's not snuggly, until nighttime, then he gets pouty. He'll be aggressively folding laundry, and not speaking to you until you come to bed and let him hold you.
You own twelve dogs. Each dog has an individual diet it is on, that is hand made by him everyday. He knows exactly what every dog needs, and makes sure to memorize what each dog needs.
If you want kids, you will adopt/birth at least three. He likes a full house. Majored in alchemy before he settled down as your househusband, and is more than happy to tutor not just your kids, but also their friends, in alchemy.
Sings like Roger from 101 dalmatians because I said so. Also he plays the piano like him. Because I said so. I'm weak okay!
They say he had an illustrious career as a model, then he met you. That's only half true though. He was planning on retiring anyway, and just happened to meet you around that time. He likes to let the tabloids believe it was all your fault. It makes him laugh. Vil Schoenheit bows to no one! Now drink your smoothie!
Healthy meals constantly. He somehow managed to make them all taste good though. It's a little suspicious honestly…what does he put in that smoothie? You never liked smoothies for breakfast before…
He likes to do your nightly routine for you. It's his love language. At 7 pm sharp, he clears his throat, and gestures for you to sit down. Then he brushes out your hair, does your skin care routine, dresses you in pajamas, and tucks you in, making sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he joins you.
If you aren't home in time for your nightly routine, he goes to bed early, turned away from your side of the bed. He will not speak to you, even though you know full well he is awake. He knows deep down it's not your fault, but he has simmering rage and no one else to take it out on.
That said, when you do fight (which you do a lot) he'll storm out before he can be particularly nasty. But you'll wake up to a single rose on the pillow next to you, and a new pair of shoes to wear to work.
You have one fluffy white cat, or one child. It's one or the other in Vil's pristine house. This isn't a barn, for seven's sake.
Cooks, cleans, gardens…. he's made for this life. You don't even know where he gets the time for it.
Rook prides himself on having the best garden in the neighborhood. Your neighbors asked him what fertilizer he used, and he wrapped an arm around you and giggled about how it was "the most organic around". Considering the last time you had to do laundry there were red stains on his clothes, you choose not to ask questions.
If you have kids, there are three of them, each two years apart. He makes the perfect paper bag lunches for them everyday, with little french notes in them (raising bilingual kids in this family). As he drops them off at school he kisses each one on the top of the head, and jovially waves them off.
You have two dogs that he takes hunting with him on his solo weekends (they aren't often, because he can barely stand to part from you!) But you also have a rabbit. He gave it your name, and likes to tease you by saying how he "caught his lapin" and never saying whether he's referring to you or the rabbit.
Another one who makes sure you look your best at work. But his favorite thing is when you forget your lunch, and he "has" to bring it to work for you. This is when he is at his most dressed up, and your outfits compliment eachother the most. He loves the gazes of envy that come his way as he kisses you and hands you your lunch.
When he's not doing chores at break neck speed, he wants you to either be in his arms, or him in yours. He doesn't care which! Please, his poor heart needs you!
Trust fund baby. Born rich, then married you. Tried to convince you not to work, but you wanted to, for whatever reason, so he "allows" it. (Who is he kidding? He could never deny you anything, what a simp) he sulks all day though, moping like a lovesick teen until you come home. Heaven forbid you forget something and have to come back in before you actually left, because he has your boss on speed dial, and will call you in sick. Oh, you just left your wallet? Too late, he assumed you had fallen ill and had chosen to stay home with him!
He's a little clueless on cooking and household chores (Lilia is no help) but he tries! Boy does he try! And it's not half bad. Not stellar, but not bad. You've only gotten food poisoning once, and he's only ever burnt a hole in two of your shirts with an iron.
Loves to serenade you with his violin on special occasions. You know the evening is going to be wonderful when he pulls it out. Oftentimes, it's a song he wrote for you, and sometimes he even sings along. His deep timbre will often have you so relaxed that you start to drift off. He's fine with that! More time to cuddle!
Speaking of, he starts the night out by laying on his side of the bed, and by the end of the night he is wrapped around you like a koala. He also gets very hot at night. You often don't need a blanket. You asked him about it once, and he said something about "draconic internal temperature regulation", whatever the fuck that means.
You had to put him on a budget because he buys you every shiny thing he sees. He always goes over budget, and always insists it's the last time and it will never happen again. This, friends, is what we call a lie.
He's only a househusband in name, really. He still has an income/job in the form of streaming and YouTube videos. But he stays at home, and likes it when you call him your househusband. He gets all blushy and smiley. He likes the idea of being the one you look forward to coming home to.
Ortho lives with you both, obviously. And he does all the cooking and cleaning. But he and Idia have an unspoken agreement that if you ask, he helped too.
Calls you at work at least once a day. It's always during your lunch break though, so that you can "eat lunch together" You know his mental health difficulties are acting up if he calls you more than once though.You don't have to come home, he'll be alright, he just needs to hear your voice.
His stream only knows you as player 2. When you get back from work, he'll say "Oh player 2 just got home!" And get so excited. He'll run off stream to give you a kiss, and won't come back until you remind him he's streaming. His followers have been there through the whole progression of your relationship, and despite not knowing what you look like, and only hearing your voice off screen every once in a while, they adore Gloomy Samurai and Player 2.
You always have two cats at a time, usually the ones at the shelter or humane society that are bonded or siblings. He doesn't want to separate a family, and also gets nervous about the inevitability of death. So you always have two cats. That way if something happens you always have one.
Yes. You get him to start telehealth therapy, and medication. Why do you ask?
He tries, bless his heart. His cooking is not bad, but his cleaning skills are subpar. To be honest, he's not cut out for the househusband life, but you've heard horror stories about how he handled his previous jobs. So for the sake of the world, you do your best to ensure he stays here.
"He's so generous" 🙄 Any time he goes a little bit above what you expected from him, he drops that line. A particularly good dessert? How generous. He actually folded laundry today? So magnanimous. But it hurts his pride if you don't agree, and you married him for some reason, right?
He has an allowance, and usually spends all of it. Sometimes it's gifts for you, but a lot of times it's for him. Which, it's his allowance, so that's fine. But he buys the weirdest stuff and doesn't use it. It just sits around your home.
If you have to work on something on the home computer, good luck to you. Home is for loving him, not working! He'll slip into your lap, give you a sexy pout, and start caressing your cheek, and tracing shapes into your neck. Then he'll start talking about how you're neglecting him, just put the work away and come cuddle with him.
Where he shines though, is if you guys end up with kids. He's a surprisingly good father, making sure they all are clean, safe, and well fed. He helps with homework, and is surprisingly good at it, he's good at seeing what their needs are, he knows immediately when one of the kids is sick, and is at the doctor right away… you don't know where these skills came from. But the second the kids are in bed, he's back to being your needy husband.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#malleus x reader#malleus draconia#twisted wonderland malleus#malleus draconia x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil schoenheit#rook x reader#rook hunt x reader#rook hunt#twst rook#dire crowley x reader#dire crowley#twst crowley x reader#twst crowley#crewel x reader#divus crewel x reader#twst crewel#divus crewel#idia shroud x reader#idia#idia shroud#idia x reader#twst idia
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๑ 2023 KINKTOBER | MINORS DNI. ๑
⋆｡°✩ details. will be posting a total of (almost) 13 fanfics throughout the weeks of october with one bonus/special piece. I’ll only be writing the main c/w here, once you get to the actual post you’ll get the whole c/w list so make sure to read that as well. Some works would be highly suggestive & won’t be suitable for some. read at your own discretion.
⋆｡°✩ notice. please be aware that i might not be able to finish every single piece by time but let’s hope that doesn’t happen. </3 main note is under the cut.
⋆｡°✩ taglist. fill this up if you’re tyna’ get tagged whenever i’m about to post a piece from this masterlist. scroll to the end if you only wanna be tagged in specific ones/pieces. must be 18+ to get tagged!
๑ THE FOLLOWING CONTENT YOU’RE ABOUT TO VIEW INCLUDES EXTREME DARK CONTENT THAT MIGHT BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME PEOPLE.๑
๑ PLEASE PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION. ๑
NOTE: AAA HI GUYS!!! this year’s kinktober is going to be a bit different than last year’s kinktober, last time i did a “one kink + character” this year is going to be fully dark content fics with more than one kink, i’ll try & finish & post all of them right on time since i kinda gave up on last year’s kinktober–i’m hoping i’ll manage to post every single fic for this one–anyways!! i hope you guys like it!! (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑)
DARK CONTENT WARNING. PLEASE, READ THE TAGS UNDER EVERY LINK.
MET HER ON THE INTERNET. – Eren Jaeger.
c/w: noncon –> dubcon, online stalking, solo m! masturbation, lovesick! eren, possessive! eren, cheating, vaginal fingering, face/throat fucking, facial, brief after-care at the end.
HEROiN CHEERLEADER – Gojo satoru.
synopsis: You were like an addictive drug to satoru, he couldn’t get enough of you. Always coming back for more, that was until you told him that you had enough – that you two should stop messing around. You wanted to focus more on your cheerleading career while gojo satoru was furious with your sudden decision, he knew the whole “focusing on cheerleading” thing is a lie when he saw how swayed you were with the new captain of your cheerleading team. He won’t leave you alone until you willingly come back to him, you got him addicted to your taste so that’s all your fault.
c/w: college au, dubcon, voyeurism, male masturbation, jealous! satoru, degrading (like lots of it), satoru blames you for everything, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, creampie.
PACKRUNNER BiTCH. – Ran Haitian.
synopsis: You were in it for the money. Why would you waste all your young years dating a thirty year old man? Let’s be serious here, you still have so much to do with your life rather than wasting it on an old guy but you need the money. But dating an old man just for money wasn’t that worth it either, that’s why the man you chose to use was a gang member – he’s old but is a part of an incredibly famous gang in your city. You knew he had more than money and that was; drugs. You were in it for the drugs & money! This whole acting in-love thing was fun until you were found out. Do you think Ran Haitian will forgive you for using him? He’s much more arrogant than that.
c/w: age gap (reader is 22 ran is 36), spanking (he uses his hands and a belt), choking, throat fucking, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, multiple (when i say multiple I mean many, numerous) creampies.
UGLY MAN? FUN PLAN! – Toji Fushiguro
synopsis: you found toji fushiguro ugly, he’s not your type and you’d rather die than date a guy like him. On the other hand toji found you gorgeous, it was love at first sight, he fell so hard for you he’s willing to do anything for your love. Toji confessed to you many times and they all ended up with heart breaking rejections. Toji is willing to try one more time and if you reject him again then that’s also alright, he has a nice plan in mind to (forcefully) make you his.
c/w: noncon, babytrapping, forced breeder! toji :<, slapping, sloppy makeout’s, lots of degrading, choking, low-key manipulative! Toji.
WEBGHOST – Rintarō Suna
synopsis: You stumbled across an abandoned hospital and decided to go explore it, alone. You were a huge fan of horror movies & loved the “exploring haunted places” concept, it’s nerve-racking because you never knew what to expect. Once you stepped foot into the old hospital, you felt a chill run past your spin. You hoped that you may run into blood-curdling stuff so you could have something to talk about for the next week or so — but you didn’t expect to run into an actual ghost. And it didn’t seem to want to leave you alone either.
c/w: ghost! suna (don’t ask how cause idk either), mentions of blood, spectrophilia, you feel it but you can’t see suna, hair pulling, creampie.
EViL NiGHT, LOVELY NiGHT! – Jean Kirstein.
synopsis: An infamous burglar lives in your city, he somehow managed to break into 120 homes in total and still didn’t get caught, he was known for stealing valuable objects–if he broke into your house and found nothing worth stealing then he’s going to flee and find another home to rob. He never restores to violence unless the house-victim tries anything against him, he’d immediately pull out his gun and shoot. Everyone was advised to keep their doors locked until they eventually catch the burglar. And tonight was no different, double checking that you had both your doors and windows locked before heading to sleep.
c/w: non con, coercion, somno, slight degrading, gun-fucking, facial, slapping, bondage, creampie per usual.
GRAVE ROBBERY. – Getō Suguru & Gojo satoru.
synopsis: You couldn’t escape them. From middle school to highschool and all the way to college. They were there. Following you everywhere, wherever you went–those two were always there, they made sure they were always there. You haven’t escaped their bullying and harassment for the past 9 years, gaining both enjoyment & entertainment by your reactions to their heinous acts towards you. Both Gojo satoru and Getō suguru loved you despite their horrible treatment towards you, they loved you.
c/w: bully! suguru bully! satoru, noncon, blackmailing, non con recording, hair pulling, threesomes, ass + pussy slapping, clit stimulation, dacryphilia, blowjob, handjob, facial, creampie.
TU4N Y<3R PH0N3 0F5 – Sanzu Haruchiyo.
synopsis: the feeling of someone watching your every move never left you, feeling as if there were eyes on you all the time. To the point you were uncomfortable to do almost everything. Eating? Sleeping? Changing? You couldn’t do anything without feeling two eyes inspecting your every move.
c/w: stalking, noncon, hints of misogyny, semi-public sex, forced/noncon breeding, slapping, virginity loss, mentions of blood and impregnation.
RUSSIAN ROULETTE. – ft. Yuushi Totsumoto.
from lady k and the sick man.
synopsis: Yuushi took you in cause’ you had nowhere else to go. you’ve been living with him for almost two years now and he barely knows anything about you. Not only that but he almost never heard you speak, he was okay with it at the beginning. Thinking you were just a little shy. But it’s been two years and he never heard your voice properly–there were a few occasions when yuushi could hear you speak but those would be barely audible mutters.
c/w: voice kink (auralism?), pervert! yuushi, peeping, breeding kink, cunnilingus, ear licking, size kink, man handling, squirting, overstimulation, creampie per usual.
WiTCHBLADES. – CHILDE/TARTAGLIA.
synopsis: (this takes place after the fontaine archon quest), childe who ended up thrown into jail because that god awful machine decided that he was guilty. And you, you ended up being his jail mate. You wanted nothing to do with childe but he’s a literal chatter box, he never shuts up. Finally, you snap back at him, scolding him and telling you guys are literally in a jail cell right now. Childe didn’t like that attitude of yours so he decided to fuck some manners into you.
c/w: noncon, forced breeder! childe, lots of misogyny, ass + pussy slapping, no prep, size kink, dacryphilia.
F0UR L3AF CL0V3R. — Aoi Todo.
synopsis: your boyfriend was either in his room playing games 24/7, at the gym, or sleeping. Never giving you proper attention until you grew desperate so what’s better than teasing him? until he gives you the attention you’re looking for. <3
c/w: read has big tits😓, dubcon just in case, kinda modern au?, gamer! todo, lots of teasing, boobjob, face fucking/blowjob, possessiveness, size kink, manhandling, pervert! todo, panty sniffing, sumata (“A Japanese sexual term in which the female rubs her labia majora against the male's penis, without actual penetration.”), facial, cum swallowing.
⋆｡°✩ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋/𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:
DEVIL ON MY BACK./ REPENT. – Getō Suguru.
synopsis: After watching a movie about the so-called game; Ouija board, with your friend Anna, You couldn’t help but grow more curious about it. After purchasing the game, you ran to your basement to try out; the first thing you tried to communicate with was the infamous devil; Getō suguru.
c/w: religious themes, ouija board, non con → dubcon, slapping, hair pulling, spitting, pussy + ass slapping, anal play, dacryphilia, overstimulation, v light somnophilia, manipulation, multiple creampies, non con creampie, lowkey monster fucking??, suguru has two dicks, face fucking, cum swallowing, guilt tripping kinda, very aggressive suguru, he is mentioned to have red eyes.
© ILYGETOU 2021-’23. All rights reserved. DO NOT steal, translate, or modify any of my works <3
#jjk smut#gojo satoru smut#getou x reader#haikyuu smut#suna smut#genshin smut#jjk x reader#tokyo rev smut#sanzu x reader#childe smut#aot x reader#aot smut#ilygetou’s kinktober ⌕#eren smut#tokyo rev x reader
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OUR SECRET — MYG
chapter one
Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.
Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.
AO3LINK NEXT
"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.
"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?
"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.
"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.
"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.
"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.
"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.
"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.
"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.
"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.
"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.
"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.
"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.
"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.
"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.
"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.
"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.
Two Months Later...
"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.
"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.
"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.
"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.
"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.
"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.
"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.
#min yoongi#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x reader#reader insert#spotify#bts fanfic#yoongi fanfic#bts angst#bts smut#min yoongi x you#yoongi fic#yoongi angst#ex to enemies to lovers#namjoon#seokjin#taehyung#jungkook#jhope#jimin
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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
v. i gave my blood, sweat and tears for this
— the one where both of you have given everything to be where you are.
warnings: misogyny, sexual harassment, this is how monaco went btw i accept no criticism. barely proofread, sorry. 3.7k words (+ article, podcast excerpts)
masterlist ✢ next
'Have we let y/n y/ln get away with way too much?'
By Alan Gomez
Yes folks, it might be our own fault, we have created a monster in the form y/n y/ln. Mediocre actress at best and with an even worse personality, if the latest events are any indication.
But how could we let this happen? Come on, we're smarter than this!
The thing is, y/n brainwashed us into believing that her doe-eyed, no-brain characters were actually her. Don't beat yourselves up over this too much, even I was a victim of those pretty eyes. But now that the blindfold has fallen, we have come to realize we have let y/n get away with everything!
You might know y/n from Supercut, the romantic comedy that took the world by storm in 2019, where she starred alongside Aidan Kim and it lead to these two becoming one of the general public’s most cherished couples. At least until two months ago, when their breakup was announced via Inside Out. Although there haven’t been any official statements, given the circumstances, we believe it was the actress who broke it off with Kim.
RELATED:
→ Aidan Kim and friends at Cannes Film Festival
→ Y/N supports alleged boyfriend at charity football match
But whether she’s dating a new guy now or not, why do we keep letting her do whatever she wants?
How did she actually brainwash us into thinking she’s anything close to an “it girl”? After Supercut, all she’s done is the absolute bare minimum to keep people talking about her, it’s all RomComs and no effort. I didn’t want to be that person, and you have to believe me on this, but Aidan Kim made her.
Let’s remember Aidan built his career from the ground as a member of Star-5 the early 2010’s boyband that split in 2018. He was the ‘someone’ in the relationship. How can people even compare having the hit song “Round and Round” in your résumé to being in Scream (Netflix) and The Mist (again, Netflix)?
Aidan made us like her and the writers of Parisian Valentine, The Hating Game and Last Night In Love, did her a HUGE favor by consolidating her as the “Queen of RomComs” by what standard? Well, don’t ask me.
The truth is, we accepted y/n into our hearts and homes, thanks to Aidan Kim and an unbelievable amount of luck, and we haven’t held her accountable for anything ever.
Here’s what I’m talking about, if you’re still wondering what the point of this article is, click on every link to be taken to the whole context, you’ll thank me later:
❍Y/N yells at paparazzi to leave her alone as she walks around Beverly Hills with Victoria Presley.
❍ Y/N praises Taylor Swift while tearing down several male artists for writing songs about their personal experiences.
❍ Y/N says in interview with ELLE that not every movie has to be “profound”.
And just for fun:
❍ A collection of Y/N’s disastrous looks.
It’s time we realize y/n y/ln is talentless, has a horrible personality and feigns innocence she certainly doesn’t have. You will NOT continue to take advantage of us, y/n! It’s all over for you, so I’m glad you’re dropping your pathetic career to become a WAG. #Y/NIsOverParty.
↺ FROM ❛WE WATCH❜ PODCAST
Paul Byrnes: Can y/n really do another role now, after all she’s known for are romantic comedies?
Anna Sanchez: well, I really liked her in The Mist, she did great as character in a horror it was—
Paul Byrnes: No one cares about The Mist, Anna, just you.
Anna Sanchez: all I’m saying is she’s a good actress, she can do other things. That was your question, Paul.
Paul Byrnes: Well, in my opinion she can't and that's it.
↺ FROM ❛IT TALK❜ PODCAST
Greg Zane: Let's talk y/n y/ln and her fashion choices now that she's an F1 WAG. What do we think?
Riley Green: She's a what now? How long has it been since she broke up with Aidan Kim?
Martha Vincent: I think she's looking great, I just wish she'd let go of the ugly caps.
Riley Green: No seriously, how long did she stay single?
Greg Zane: I agree Martha, but caps are big in Formula 1, nothing we can do about that. I'm wondering if she'll go for a more glamorous look in Monaco.
Riley Green: guys? hello?
Martha Vincent: Oh Riley, we're not talking about her love life, let it go.
↺ FROM ❛HOLLYWOOD VIBES❜ PODCAST
Pauline Oscar: [cont.] I'm just so curious about the reason of their breakup, why hasn't anyone said anything?! It must be juicy.
Brenda Yim: I feel like it's bad for one of them, most likely y/n. Hello, can anyone offer one of their friends some money? Just like old times!
Pauline Oscar: [laughs] Definitely! We need to know! Can it get any worse than the fact that she's already with another guy? What's his name? Charles Le what? She soooo cheated.
liked by charles_leclerc, vicpresley, mati.bassi, carlossainz55 and others.
ynfreesia UM THE LIKES?
xxynbaby it's "monaco" of course
aidanluvs you don't even have the decency to pretend like you're alone? fuck you
ynredstar i cannot defend you if you pull this shit girl
mati.bassi great view for breakfast with my best girl!💕
ynredstar oh
ynredstar nevermind thanks mati
↳ feels4aidan don't be so gullible she's obviously covering up for them
THE COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE DISABLED.
May 27th, Montecarlo, Monaco.
THERE are tears in your eyes, and despite your best efforts not to let them run down your cheeks, it's futile. The worst part is that you're the one doing this to yourself. There's zero need to read 'articles' from pseudo journalists on how a man gave you your career and how you're tossing it into the trash for another. Not to mention the cascade of curses you received for a picture on instagram, where everyone thought you were with the other man.
Has your life really come to this? People don't talk about you unless a guy is involved? You loathe it. Your career was never about Aidan, and it's not about Charles now. Who only makes things worse every time he shows up and yet you can't manage to bring it up to him.
It's embarrassing. You don't want to walk up to him during whatever free time he has in a hectic weekend, and ask him if it really doesn't annoy him everything the press has made up about the two of you, or if he's really that unbothered by being paired up with you in the wildest scenarios, and tell him that he can shut them down whenever he feels like it (you wish he would already), and let him know you won't mind whatever he says about not being involved with you.
But no, Mr. Leclerc is busy giving unclear answers at interviews and liking your instagram posts, as if this isn't already a wildfire.
You put down your phone and pick it back up almost immediately, Vic's ringtone fills your hotel room and you wipe away your tears before answering her FaceTime request.
"Were you crying?" it's the first thing she says, moving her sunglasses to the top of her head. There's a lot of noise in the background and you can barely make the words out, but she comes so close to the phone that all you can see is the tip of her nose. "Why were you crying?"
"It's nothing, Vic. What's up?" you sigh, rubbing your eyes only makes things worse but you don't want to worry about that now.
"I just got to Monaco, babe," the phone is at a safe distance from her nostrils again and you can see around her, the airport where you landed a few days ago. "I'm with my parents," she rolls her eyes, lowering her voice. "But if you could get me into the Ferrari Suite I can hang out with you tomorrow!"
They allowed you one guest and the spot has already been taken by Mati, so there really isn't much you can do in terms of getting her into the Ferrari Suite. "Well, let me see what I can do, okay?"
"Okay," she sounds unsure, you know Vic enough to be sure she expected a different answer. "I mean my parents have Lounge privileges but it's more fun to be with you."
Had she said something about coming to Monaco you might have been able to do something, but as far as you were concerned she planned to stay in France all week, enjoying Cannes and mingling.
"I'll do my best Vic, but you know how they are," you exhale heavily, "Plus it's a crazy-ass weekend."
"Isn't it always?" she's yawning now, "We can meet for dinner later and you can tell me what's up alright? Being with my parents is so boring."
You shake your head, "Be nice, they just want to hang out with you. I'll call you after Quali," you check the clock on top of the nightstand, it's 10 am. You have to get ready for FP3, which you don't care about attending or not but Stuart Schaffer asked to see you, so you haven't got much of a choice.
"Sure babes, love you." Vic pulls her sunglasses down again and blows a kiss to the screen.
"Love you too," it's your turn to yawn as you tap the hang up button.
You look at the special edition Ferrari cap you received as a gift yesterday on top of your suitcase and immediately discard the idea of wearing it. No caps. And then the wave of disgust invades you, are you seriously going to do what some random man said on a podcast you came across by accident?
The answer is yes, unfortunately.
─────────
You would rip your leg off if you could, at least it would mean you’d be able to get out of this chair and away from Stuart. But his palm resting on top of your knee feels like a death grip and you’re frankly afraid to move in case it goes further up.
Mati decided to skip FP3 and you’re really hoping she’ll be on time for Quali because you have no one else to talk to, Stuart is just parading you around again and keeping you way too close for comfort because he’s in a great mood since both Ferraris maintained their top spots and things are looking hopeful for Qualifying.
You know it’s your chance to ask if you can bring Victoria around tomorrow, and you know the answer will be yes, but you don’t. You don’t want to ask things from this man, he’s the type to never forget a debt.
You barely catch a glimpse of Carlos and Charles as they walk by on the way to their debrief and Charles waves at you quickly, with a single-dimpled smile. He’s wearing the same cap you refused to put on.
“I’m going to call my friend,” you blurt out once Charles is out of sight, finally moving your leg back to make Stuart’s hand drop. “She had the worst hangover, I have to check up on her.”
“Oh, you girls get wild in Monaco,” Stuart cackles as you sprint away from him, actually resisting the urge to wipe your knee clean.
"Hey y/n!" Mati's voice can barely be heard above the EDM playing wherever she is. "What's up?"
"Where are you?" you whine, looking back inside the Suite. "Help."
"What's wrong?" you picture her frowning as she tries to walk away from the noise helplessly.
You feel guilty for worrying her so you sigh. "Nothing, I just hate being here. Are you coming here for Qualifying?"
"Yep," she pops the 'p' and laughs. "Listen, why don't we have lunch here at the yacht and then go back for Quali?"
"Yes!" once again you look over your shoulder to where the Elix men are laughing at their own jokes and patting each other's backs. “I’m on my way, okay?”
“I’ll be right here, also don’t scare me like that again, please.”
“Sorry,” you chuckle, embarrassed. Maybe you’re a bit dramatic at times, but it’s really all good-natured. “See you in a minute.”
You turn to the door of the Suite, giving a short jump back when you open it at the same time as someone else.
“Oh, god,” you sigh, stepping inside as Charles moves out of the way to let you in. “Thanks.”
“Sorry I scared you,” he smiles, closing the door again once you’re fully in. Charles is once again holding a closed Elix can, tapping his fingers on the side.
You eye it suspiciously, wondering if the thing has really grown on him. After all, one of the first things he told you was how much it disgusted him.
“It’s alright. I thought you were in your debrief?” You grab a can of Elix yourself, looking good in front of the sponsors cannot hurt.
“It was a short one. Keep doing what you’re doing kind of thing,”
“Right. Well, good for both of you,” you look around for Carlos but he’s nowhere to be seen. “Would it jinx it to say ‘good luck’ for later?”
You know many sportspeople take their jinxes and rituals way seriously, and you don’t want to be the one to blame if something goes wrong for the local star.
Charles considers this for a second and then shakes his head no. “Wish me luck,” he smiles.
“Good luck, Charles.” You beam back at him, enjoying—despite yourself—the way his eyes burn into yours.
─────────
You’re back at the Suite with Mati 10 minutes before Qualifying starts. The tension that had seeped out of your body in the form of laughter and loud singing with Mati is already making its way back to your back and jaw. You’re not ready to be around the Elix people again, but you must. However, first, you make Matilde promise she won’t leave your side.
Stuart Schaffer is already patting the empty seat next to him when you make your way through the refreshment tables. You smile at him, a muscle in your cheek falters as you walk past him on your way to the balcony, to catch both Ferraris leaving the garage.
“Oh don’t drink that,” you whisper when you see Mati walk your way, two cans of Gold Elix in her hands. “Don’t.”
Matilde snorts, “You’re literally the ambassador of this thing, and you don’t like it?”
“SHHH!”
“Fine, but those guys are looking at us so we have to at least sip it.”
You groan, opening the one she offers you and then taking a huge gulp. “Yum,” you mock.
Mati laughs again before her face goes sour with the taste. “Oh my God,”
“Warned you,” yet you take another sip. You think that if it grew on Charles it might grow on you, but you don’t really see it happening.
Q1 and Q2 go by smoothly, at least for Ferrari and you’re on the edge of your seat for Q3. This is the race you’ve been more excited for, but it’s not like you’ve attended many others. Still, Monaco just hits different.
The end of Q3 almost gives you a heart attack, although you also blame your almost empty Elix. You didn’t even notice how much you drank, but the thing that really gets your heart jumping out of your chest is Victoria’s ringtone.
Begrudgingly, you turn away from the track. She has texted you a thousand times, without exaggerating, since Quali started and you know it’s because she’s bored out of her mind at the Lounge with her parents. But you’re starting to find this genuinely entertaining and you are bothered by the distraction.
“I told you I’d call you after Quali, Vic,” you singsong, looking up at the screens inside the Suite.
“Well Quali is almost over, no one cares about the last three minutes.”
You do, Max Verstappen is in first place, then Charles and Checo in P3. You’re crossing your fingers for Charles to manage to get above both Red Bulls. And for Carlos to squeeze in there too.
You don’t say anything else, too enthralled by the battle on the screen.
“Y/n?” Vic raises her voice, “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes Vic, what is it?”
“We’re going to be at Ferrari together tomorrow, right?”
You wince, glad she chose a phone call instead of FaceTime this time around. You haven’t asked and you don’t intend to. Vic still has VIP Lounge access, she’ll be fine.
“They said no, Vic.” You lie, your eyes scanning the screen, it’s the last lap before they get the checkered flag out. “I’m sorry.”
“What? Why? Did you tell them I can give them publicity? I have one million followers!”
“Monaco is different from Miami,” you explain gently, “But you’ll still be at the VIP, you have a great view.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she’s beyond annoyed now, as it happens every time things don’t go her way. You can’t blame her, but you also think it will be good for her to spend some time with her parents, whom she refuses to visit although they live in Malibu and pay her mortgage. “We’re still up for dinner though, right?”
“Yep! I’ll meet you at your hotel.”
“Okay see you then, babes.”
By the time your eyes return to the screen, Charles is in P1, Carlos in P3 and the Ferrari Suite is exploding in cheers.
YOU’RE up painfully early the next day. Vic and you went back to your respective hotel way past three am and you’re exhausted, but at least you had enough self-control to avoid today’s hangover.
Nevertheless, the morning goes by in a blur between breakfast with Elix people, calls with Mildred and Walter, your manager, and two casting agents that tell you that no, you don’t need to go for an in-person casting, you’re not getting the role.
By the time you get to the Suite you have a headache and the knot on your throat is progressively getting harder to swallow. You only make things worse by rage-reading tweets with your #IsOver hashtag.
People claim, with more force every day, that Aidan gave you everything and you are starting to regret ever meeting him.
You have worked your ass off for years, taking on small roles, commercials, stock-photo deals. Learning scripts and going to castings and taking classes, you have been criticized and rejected for more things than just “not fitting the role”.
You have given everything you are and everything you have, and people assure what you got in return you owe it all to some man.
“Hola y/n!” Carlos is the first one to get back to the Suite and you wish he would rub off some of his good mood on you. “How are you today?”
“Hi Carlos, I’m alright and you?”
“You definitely look it,” he says, semi-sarcastically. “Something on your mind?”
The knot is back in your throat so you shake your head no. “And yours?”
“Nada de nada.” he smiles. You’re still growing on each other, but this is the most comfortable you’ve been while sharing the same space.
Charles arrives while Carlos, Mati (who is hungover from her party at the yachts) and you are comparing workout playlists. Wearing what now seems to be like his comfort cap, and a pair of ugly ripped jeans, he smiles brightly at the three of you.
You’re happy to see both Ferrari boys so smiley after the past couple races. Miami especially. And you hope they’ll do well; but you’re particularly scared for Charles, and whatever it is that made him unlucky in his hometown, you don’t want this day to end on a sour note.
You spend about an hour talking to them about anything, your movies, their races, Mati's tour with Romeo and Juliet. Music, hobbies and quirks, Charles and Carlos have an opinion on everything and they are actually quite fun to be around. Then, a Ferrari Team member comes to get them for the Drivers Parade so you wave them goodbye, wishing them a smooth race.
"You're not going to wish me luck, y/n?" Charles asks, the smirk on his face is one you identify as mischievous, and it makes a small wave of anxiety run down your back.
Mati stops the bottle of water halfway through her mouth to ogle at the two of you, and the palpable tension that has installed itself in the space.
"Good luck, Charles," the smile you return falters in one corner, but Charles doesn't seem to mind as he adjusts his cap and says thank you before leaving behind Carlos.
Mati has forgotten about her need to hydrate and is staring at you with both eyebrows raised. "I thought you were not doing that?" she gestures with her head towards the door through which both drivers vanished.
"I'm not doing anything," you reply, defensively. "He's being—"
"y/n, you could cut the tension there for a minute," Mati finally takes a swig of water and you wait for her to continue talking. "Like I said, I don't recommend it but... you're free to do whatever you want." she isn't unkind while wording that last part, but it still stings you with annoyance.
"Thanks, Mati." you bite the inside of your cheek, leaning back into the sofa.
─────────
The Ferrari Suite explodes in cheers once the checkered flag is out. After a frankly insane race with rain, crashes and too-long pit stops, both Ferraris have crossed the finish line, and most importantly Charles has finally managed to get rid of his Monaco curse. His enlarged picture appears on every screen with P1 right in the middle. Carlos is P4, but the points are extremely important in the long run, so people celebrate nevertheless.
Before you know it, Mati and you are being dragged down to the track for the podium celebrations. You're buzzing with excitement, holding Matilde's hand as you run to one side, where the mechanics can't crush you as they jump up and down.
Even above the general screams of happiness, you can hear talks of 'Charles deserves this so much', 'It was about time' and 'His hard work is finally paying off at home'.
At least someone's blood, sweat and tears are valued.
YOU are probably not living down the Charles dating allegations this weekend. Which is not your fault, honestly, had they enlarged the picture, it would have shown Mati just as excited for Ferrari as you were. She's Italian, and she bleeds for Ferrari.
But right now, surprisingly, you're not overwhelmed with whatever it is they're saying on Twitter. Although it took Mati snatching your phone away and tossing it in her own purse before sitting you down to retouch your makeup for the celebration party.
Victoria is joining you too, because a 'the more the merrier' applies to any sort of party happening in a Monaco club, especially if it is for the unofficial prince.
It is the first time in three months you let go of your worries, even if it is for the shortest amount of time as you dance with Victoria and Mati and drink anything you please and whoop every time the DJ mentions Charles and Carlos.
You're happy to be with your friends, away from Elix and celebrating two people who can become something more than coworkers to you. Although through the night you see them on a few occasions, Carlos waves at you as he passes by a few times only stopping in the third time to let you congratulate him with a quick hug that's more of a shoulder squeeze than anything.
Charles is obviously harder to approach, and to be fair, it's not like you're even trying. He's surrounded by his hometown friends and by anyone who wants to have his attention for a minute, for a picture or a dance or to buy him a drink.
It's past three am when Victoria is beyond buzzed and you're starting to feel exhausted so you decide it's time to leave. Mati has found someone to take home so she's been gone for around forty minutes, minding her business.
"Come on, let's go," you are grabbing Victoria by the wrist as her ankle twists. "We've both had enough," you laugh, Victoria joins your laughter as you snake through the crowd of people pumping fists in the air, some of them point and wave at you and you smile back at them politely.
You hear your name being passed around a few times, but you focus on finding the exit while keeping Victoria by your side, who has started to whine about not wanting to leave.
Once you break into the outside, you take a breath of fresh air, the coolness makes your skin rise in goosebumps and you shiver, letting go of Victoria to lift the hair on the back of your neck.
"It's too early!" Victoria complains once again, her eyes are glassy and she's just as sweaty.
"It's not, plus you're drunk, we should leave," your ears still feel drowned in the sound of music. “My feet are killing me.”
The exit opens again, and a couple stumbles out laughing and they tell Vic and you goodbye in drunken French. Before the door shuts again, Charles is out on the street too.
"I heard you were leaving," he says in what you're sure it's a too loud voice. But your ears have barely stopped ringing, so you can't blame him. "Are you two okay?" he eyes Victoria, who is starting to lean down on her knees to soothe her dizziness.
"Oh we're alright, we've just partied enough," you smile at him. Charles is rosy, bright-eyed and sweaty. Is it corny to describe someone as painfully handsome?
"I didn't get to congratulate you," you add, trying to keep your attention on Charles while being aware that Victoria might start retching at any given moment. "You did amazing."
Victoria straightens immediately, her glassy stare focusing on Charles. "You're such a good driver, Charles, for real."
"Thank you," Charles nods awkwardly a few times as Victoria pokes him with her left index finger. "And thank you y/n."
"Come on, Vic," you chuckle, keeping her hand away from Charles. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you."
Charles smiles again, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, really. I'm sorry I didn't see you earlier," he points behind him, to the club.
"It's your party, you can't be everywhere,"
Vic is yawning loudly, and you roll your eyes, amused. "We better get going."
"y/n, when are you flying to Spain?" Charles blurts out, the moment you turn to lead Vic down the street.
"I'm not sure, Wednesday probably?"
"You know, I can still show you a place or two in Monaco. If you want." He sinks his left hand in the front pocket of his dark jeans, and you wonder where the mischievous aura from what seems like ages ago went.
You pause, letting Vic put her whole weight on your shoulder as she finally gives up to the exhaustion. "Um well..."
The same tension that appeared at the Ferrari Suite is back, and the more you hesitate, the thicker it becomes.
Victoria pulls you down with her as she throws her head back, yawning again. Charles is just in time to hold you back up, his other arm pulling Vic back to a standing position.
"Only if you want," he says, he is far too close now and you can smell the mix of alcohol and cologne on him.
And maybe it's the alcohol in your own system, and you'll regret this once you sober up and realize that you told Matilde several times this is exactly what you were not going to do, but you say yes.
─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I want to say thank you to everyone who interacts with this series, it means a lot to me to know that you're enjoying it!♡❞
✰ paddock club members: @majx00
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#f1 x y/n#cl16 fanfic#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#charles leclerc fanfic#f1 x you#f1 fic
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Hii!!
Can I request a one-shot with veneer and velvet from trolls 3 x fem reader, Where the reader is their childhood bestie and she bails both of them from jail and they’re both like hella whiny and complaining to the reader how bad jail was and the reader just teases them about it!
(It’s fine if you can’t do it!) 💗
Hi!! Thank you for your request! I enjoyed writing this, I hope it satisfies your request!🩷
Velvet & Veneer x fem!reader release from prison
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
You are a childhood friend of the star twins. You grew up in the same suburb as them. In the next house, so you were neighbors. Going to the same school, and how to say, making up a small company of the 3 of you, you became very attached to these two blockheads. After Velvet expressed the idea that she wanted to become famous, you supported her, everything was going well, until the moment you found out that they want to build a career as singers! You, like no one else, knew very well that they sang disgustingly. But, Veneer convinced you that they will practice, and everything will work out. Seeing their breathtaking performances on stage and their performance, you did not believe them, and decided to break off your friendship with them, although it hurt you. You heard their songs from literally every teapot, you were pretty tired of it. And so, after a disastrous performance, after the terrible secret of their popularity became known to all Mount Rageons, the twins were taken into custody. Of course, the first couple of days in prison weren’t so bad, at least for Veneer... as a result, you received a call on your phone, it’s surprising that Velvet called you and not her parents. Damn it, it was you who paid the deposit for them too.
“Ugh! prison is just disgusting! They literally fed us slop and gave us some rags, calling them clothes! They treated me like I was some kind of animal in a cage without freedom!“
Velvet's screams rang loudly as the girl actively gesticulated and recounted all the details of her imprisonment with disgust. Veneer, in turn, walked quietly, saying nothing, only sighing occasionally.
“It’s all your fault!” - After these words, Velvet slapped Veneer in the face and continued
“Who asked you to say anything at all?! I don't think I asked! Because of you, we lost everything! Fame, money, fans, our influence! Are you satisfied now? Mister Justice!?“
Her screams turn almost into hysterical screams, Veneer accepts the slap in the face, but then slowly frowns the more she thinks.
"so what? all this was not ours, it was not our merits and we got what we deserved. everything was your plan from the beginning, I initially thought it was terrible."
After these words, one would think that Velvet would attack and strangle her brother, but then you intervened in the conversation.
“Well Vel, but now you know what it was like for Floyd when you kept him in the bank, absolutely the same as you in prison, maybe even worse... you didn’t have to constantly listen to two huge idiots)” You nodded approvingly to Veneer, trying to hide your little giggles, seeing how Veneer looks away in shame and Velvet blushes with anger, you realize that you really missed these two upstarts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm ashamed that it didn't wrote out as much as I wanted😢
#velvet trolls#trolls 3#velvet and veneer#trolls veneer#trolls 1#trolls band together#headcanon#trolls 2#veneer x reader#velvet x reader
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It’s late at night when your phone rings.
You swipe it from the bedside table with a sluggish hand as your bleary eyes blinked open, and you cringed from the light emitting from your screen. Your fingers scrambled to accept the call, pressing the speaker option as soon as you did.
“Hey, love.”
The familiar sound of your partners voice hits your ears, and you immediately perk up, snapped out of your sleep induced haze.
He waits patiently for your reply, knowing the late hour over in England, finding himself on the other side of globe. He hears the rustling of the sheets as you briskly sat up on the bed. “Simon..!”
A sleepy smile tugs at your lips. Your eyes crinkle in the corners as you stare down at the ‘No caller ID’ across your screen, hearing him once again after a longer period of zero communication.
The high profile mission he was sent on with his team left you even more clueless than ever. With no estimated return date and little to no contact, you could only await any possible information about his status.
You hear him shuffle further away from three men whose voices you could make out in the background, and a deep, hearty chuckle makes way past his lips, making your tone fall soft.
“I miss you,” you mutter.
The way the words leave you has a warm feeling spread through his chest, a small smile of his own curving underneath the balaclava he wore.
His eyes dropped closed for a brief moment. “Miss you, too..”
A comfortable silence followed, drawing out longer than normal as he searches for words to say, rough fingers tightening their grip on the burner phone that he holds to his ear.
“Mission’s draggin’ out.” Simon finally said, using the tone he reserved for you, hoping to not break your spirits of his quick return. “Dunno when I’ll be home, darlin’.”
He heard you sigh, and a sense of guilt replaced the warmth he previously felt.
His job kept him away from you, for months on end, at times. Yet you never outwardly complained. Not once.
You frowned at his words, idly drumming your fingers alongside your phone. Anxiety coursed through your veins. What if he didn’t come back this time at all? “Yeah?”
“Okay…” Simon exhaled a long breath as your voice wobbled, brows pinching in thought.
He gave a small shake of his head, “yeah. Sorry.” He shifts on his feet, just barely kicking a stray stone beside him.
He couldn’t think of a way to ease your worries. Uncertainty was a part of the life of a soldier. Especially one working for an anti-terrorist unit like Task Force 141. For all he knew, he could take a bullet to the head in the next shootout, and not even make it to the hospital. You could be greeted with Price (or Soap) at your front door, with nothing but a plain box of his belongings being handed to you.
His gaze settled somewhere in the distance, watching the sun rise above the horizon slowly as your end went quiet.
A soft scoff left your lips, wanting to tell him off for apologizing for something he had no control over.
“It’s not your fault.” You only shrugged it off. “Just... Be careful out there..”
The mere thought of him dying out in the field made you shiver. A rational fear due to his career. It was what he did, you had to remind yourself continuously. He wouldn’t be out there with such an elite task force if he were inept.
A rugged smirk bloomed on his weathered face, brown eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Always am, love.”
#cod#cod x reader#ghost x reader#cod fanfic#writing#short#simon ghost x you#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#x reader#character x reader#character x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#call of duty#modern warfare
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𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙈𝙚
pairing: soft dark!professor andy barber x reader
concept: Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: possessive Andy, hair pulling, dom Andy/sub reader undertones, age gap , edging, fingering, fingering, oral (f receiving),pussy slapping,manipulation — soft dub con to be safe but reader is excited, power imbalance, dumbification, praise, Professor kink, reader sent a nasty email to Professor Andy, Sir kink, dirty talk, spanking, size kink, rough sex, blowjob, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, nickname- (love, princess, slut)
a/n: @sunshinebuckybarnes Now, have fun daydreaming hehe. Thank you for that beautiful ask.
the cute gif and moodboard made by me
line divider: @s-tarksintern
lovely betas: @writing-for-marvel, @purpleshallot and @beach-daydreaming
Masterlist
His path leads you into the darkness of blue but all you can see is the fire of desire
After he picked you up from the bar, you were cold and he was lustful, so it wasn't your fault.
As soon as you decided to go out, have a little fun, and were two tequila shots in, you sent him an email in the bar telling him that his grading system was terrible. You totally deserved that A in his human relations class and he needed to be more knowledgeable about the world. You were required to take Professor Barber’s class to finish your degree, and in doing so everything changed for you.
It was Andrew Barber who gave you your new warmth and moans.
Now, who do you break your rules for?
"Professor Barber..."
You turned your head, your lips hovering over Andy's. Your heart raced as you stared into his blue eyes. The normally bright blue shade darker than you’ve ever seen; nearly black as his pupils were blown wide with lust.
"Did I tell you that you could talk back to me, Princess?" He whispered, his voice grating your senses like gravel.
You shook your head lightly, feeling that you had just dug yourself a deeper hole. Now that he has read that email, he was picking up the pieces.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"Turn around and read the email back to me," Andy commanded. Compliant as if you were sitting in his class, your eyes drifted away from him to the laptop sitting atop his kitchen counter.
Your email glared back at you, taunting you :
Subject: Fuck You, Prof. Barber.
The courage and vitrol that fueled your desire to give Professor Barber a price of your mind was astonishingly absent as you stood in his kitchen with his chest pressing against your back. Instead, seeing it filled you with dread and fear for what he may do to your academic career. Its heat pressing against your skin filled you with a desire you never knew existed, much like a coin has two sides.
Suddenly, you’re taken aback by the sensation of his hands sliding down your arms, then back up, enough to make goosebumps erupt across your skin, and for you to take a sharp breath.
You read the first line of the cursed email out loud, your voice wavering as Andy’s body heat intensified against your back. His reflection a shadow staring at you through the laptop screen. You bit your lower lip to stem the tears that had begun to gather in your eyes, looking at the keyboard leaving your face raw and exposed to his punishment.
Andy wave his hand through the sweater and rubbed his fingertips against your nipple, and gently teased it. You felt your skin tingle in a frenzy of static as he pinched them.
A simple squeeze left you feeling as if your body was falling apart.
As the warmth from Andy's center propelled you into overdrive, your tongue stroked across your lower lip. Andy laid light kisses over your neck, his fingers coming closer as he neared the center of your warmth.
In the palm of his hand, Andy swiped his thumb up, caressing the smooth skin with his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, he pulled back his hand and took your chin in between his fingers. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his lustful eyes stared into yours. Andy pressed his lips against your ear, and growled, "Repeat what you said in the email."
Nervously, you swallowed.
How could you be so stupid to send him that email?
It wasn't your intention, but his grading system was out of date and he needed to fuck someone off to let his grumpy state see the light.
"Repeat what you wrote to me, word for word...don't make me ask again."
The thudding of your heart echoed in your ears. Each breath shook in your lungs.
You mustered the courage you felt when you wrote the email and repeated, "Professor Barber, your way of living is sad, which explains why you are divorced and lonely—”
You paused.
Andy took his hand off your chin, gliding down your neck to the collar of the sweater. Pulling the collar away from your neck, he buried his teeth in your neck. “Did I tell you to stop reading?"
It was a new, fresh pleasure to wince in pain.
"N-no, Professor," you said shakily.
You felt Andy’s hand leave your neck and follow the curves of your body, stopping only when it rested on your inner thigh. A tingle zinged throughout your body as Andy pulled your legs apart and revealed your lace panties that were soaked from your dripping cunt.
"You insulted me, Princess," Andy growled.
Your lips curled into a soft moan as your eyes closed. Andy's eyes glowed with lust, his grin widening as he placed his palm on your wet pussy, forcing the lace aside to feel the wetness that was his.
"Look at you," he beamed, “I've barely touched you and you're so wet for me."
You lost control from the the warmth of his hand that rubbed your wet pussy. You believed that you would stand your ground and he would change, but you were ── in his house, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, half-naked- and his touch destroyed your strong aura as an independent woman.
"You've been such a little tease all semester." He reached down to undo your lacy underwear, taking them off without any effort.
Was this an exam of desire?
"You are such a-"
Your insult cut short by a harsh slap.
The harsh smack against your throbbing pussy left your body shaking, and you learned, in that moment, that he was holding the strings to your desire.
"I don't hear you reading, Kitten." Andy’s voice slithered through the fog like a siren to a pirate.
But, instead of reaping your reward from a Professor knocked down, you walked willingly into his trap.
The second smack made your entire body tremble and your knees wobble.
"Are you getting quiet?" he smirked. When his hand smacked your throbbing, wet center again, your fingernails dug deep into the counter.
Your voice quiet, you continued, “Your methods are ineffective, and no one is warming your bed with the ridiculous sweaters and ties you wear to hide your life and I bet your co—."
Trying to maintain your composure, your nails dug deeper into the counter as your body slowly reacted to the sudden change in events; as if you were stuck in molasses. One moment, you’re filled with a righteous indignation at his grading system that fueled your deep desire to have him know what you really thought of him and his course with no thought as to the consequences of your actions as you pressed “send” The next moment, you are at his house, bent over his kitchen counter. You haven’t the faintest clue how you got here, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts of Andy.
You are sober but drunk with desire. His desire. His attention.
You wanted to know how far this would go when you felt his touch. There was no doubt that you lied, but Professor Andy was a man.
A man who just needed you.
With ragged breaths, you tried to calm yourself, but your body rejected your silent plea for self-control as you fell back against his chest. Andy's fingers sped up, and as you trembled and instinctively tried to close your legs, you knew it was not possible to regain control from Andy.
"Mmm, Princess, let's talk about what you said about my manhood," Andy said softly as his lips met your cheeks, a soft kiss that contrasted with the strong smack he employed on your swollen clit.
In spite of your pleas for him, he ignored you and slowly inserted his fingers inside your body while he laughed at your squirming. With each movement you made, he slapped you again and again. Your moans were all that was heard and the feel of his fingers inside you with a slap to keep your mind from wandering.
His disciplined approach keeps you motivated and hungry for more as he leaves his mark on your body
"Princess, you deserve to be tortured the same way that you've tortured me all semester." Andy said as he swiftly pulled his fingers out of you., Your eyes widened as he licked your juices off his thick fingers before turning you around to him. "You taste delicious and all dripping for me"
You gasped at his sheer strength, trying to push back against him.
Andy held you down with his free hand as adjusted himself behind you. Knowing what was likely to happen, you moaned at the sound of his belt buckle rattling.
“Professor…”
"I won't leave you unpunished." He snapped his belt, making you shiver with arousal. "You don't want to be expelled from university because of your actions, now do you?"
“No, sir I will do anything” you pleaded as his fingers edged your heat.
You screamed when he landed a stronger blow to your pussy before you could say anything further.
“Please…” you cried. The sudden intrusion of his middle and ring fingers in your body caused you to scream in agony as he didn’t allow you to adjust.
A steady rhythm of his fingers blurred your vision as you felt yourself edge toward your end; to the abyss of your orgasm.
“Oh, my God! Sir...” you cried. "I- I'm going to cu-cum..."
You were right there, right at the precipice of ecstasy.
Andy ripped his fingers out begrudgingly and pulled you back from the edge of your orgasm. You squirmed and slowly cried out his name from the absence of his touch.
"I'm not going to let you off that easy, honey", Andy said condescendingly. He spanked you hard on your ass, then pulled you by the neck to stand straight.
“Take off the sweater, put it on the floor, and get on your knees.”
You have taught me more about myself in your presence and reflection, his slut
Andy smirked and gripped the back of your neck, “What was the line you said about my cock?” You let out a soft moan when you saw his cock up close and immediately opened your mouth to let him use it.
Andy stroked your face with his free hand as he rubbed his cock's tip along your lips. "It’s time for you to learn your place and respect me,” He slapped your face and shoved his cock in your throat.
Tears fell from your eyes from the sudden intrusion in your throat.
You felt the heat between your thighs increasing and wanted to please him. You enjoyed the gagging sensation his cock gave you in the back of your throat. You preened as you felt him tense up and his dick swell in your mouth.
Your ability to think clearly and to resist anything he did to you was gone. You were intoxicated s by his size, taste, attitude, and your own arousal. Your hand drifted between your legs to touch yourself at how hot it was.
Andy took a deep breath and tugged at your head, controlling your movements, your head bobbing down toward him when he saw your hand wander down your stomach. He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you upright by your hair.
He smiled down at you as he reached down to grab your legs. He lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to his living room. Despite your behavior, the soft kisses on your hair remind you that he cares for you and that you are his princess.
The smell of his skin lingers on my body, and I crave more.
The soft cushions of his couch bounced when you landed. As he stripped off his clothes and got down on his knees, his lustful blue eyes stared at you like a predator.
"Look at you lusting for me," he groaned. "Want to see what my tongue can do for my slut's pussy?"
He leant in as he listened to your desires, blowing soft air, inhaling your scent, and rested his nose on your pussy.
His tongue came out and almost hesitantly licked your clit.
“I'm sorry for— the , please let me--” you moaned and grabbed hold of his hair, fists clenched tight. It was his tongue that reminded you he controls everything in your body. His beard burned your pussy and tickled your entire being. He gave you punishment so easily, you knew it wasn't even close to the end.
You knew his game of seduction.
You moaned as you wrapped your body around his cool lips, and a smirk appeared on his face as he marked your legs beneath his fingertips and watched your breasts move with his rhythm.
“Andy, I’ve been so good for you, please... I promise I will do anything you ask of me, please fuck me up.” You cried, desperate to feel him.
The chuckle on his face was accompanied by a lick of his lips. Your hips jerked in anticipation of another kiss, but he stood away from you instead. In his hand, he spat, briefly stroked his cock, and then moved closer to your pussy.
“Oh, aren’t you so desperate for me?” Andy leaned over and roughly kissed you. You could taste yourself on his lips as you tried to pull his tongue closer to yours. You were his needy little slut
The tip of his cock teased you as you pleaded for him to fuck you.
“What makes you believe you deserve this? ”
“Please…” you begged.
"Well... " he said as you groaned beneath him. "Since you asked so nicely, and I respect desire"
Despite your squeal, he pushed steadily inward. While working in your cunt, he groaned with satisfaction, knowing he would be the only one to touch it.
He pulled his hips back and, for a moment, you thought he was pulling out, but the next instant he slammed his cock deep, pounding hard against you. You squealed out your wants.
Andy stroked your pussy passionately, fucking it deeply. When your pussy squeezed Andy's dick like a fist, he knew you had the tightest pussy he had ever felt. "Look at your pussy welcoming me in, it is so good, damn it is so good, do you feel it" he groaned in your ear as he leaned forward to grow louder and louder as he rapidly thrust into the pussy as he knew that the cunt was meant to be fucked hard, fast, rough, and deep.
It was a blissful feeling as your hardened nipples scraped against his chest while he rocked against you in response to each grinding thrust. "It feels so good, Sir...don't stop."
Andy bent down to capture your lips,pushing his tongue down your throat. “You are my new fucktoy now. Your only responsibility is to warm your professor's dick whenever he needs it, right? I will never stop fucking you, my princess. "
It was a struggle for you to respond as Andy thrust hard and fast into your sodden hole, moaning softly while unable to reply, "Yes, Professor.".
Putting his hands around the top of your head and linking his fingers, Andy rammed you down brutally using his own hands to hold you in place.
"My pussy, my princess," Andy whispered with every thrust as he slammed his cock in you, planting sloppy wet kisses on your jawline.
A deep expression filled his face as he gazed into your eyes. "Who are you?"
You couldn’t answer him. You wanted to tell him you were his slut and his only. Your vision spun as Andy dragged out your orgasm. Feeling as if you might pass out, you dug your nails deeply into his back.
Feeling my body spasming as I fall apart, I learn from your lessons.
The sweater was a reward for pleasing, and a punishment for looking gorgeous with it on.
You sat in class, and awaited the professor's arrival. When you got a text message saying, "My sweater fits nicely on you and let me see my pussy," "you opened your legs so he could see it.
To know what is his, he needs to see it.
In front of you, Professor Andy was licking his lips and getting ready to begin his class.
Your ragged breath fills the air as I savor every drop, because we both know the fun is only just starting.
#-soft dark!professor andy barber x reader#andy barber x female reader#soft!dark andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber#soft dark!professor andy barber x female reader#soft dark!professor andy barber#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber x y/n#andy barber one shot#andy barber smut#chris evans characters#andy barber x woc!reader#andy barber x you#andy barber x latina!reader#defending jacob#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans fandom#chris evans smut#andy barber imagine#andy barber x poc!reader
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➪the one where jack's career takes off and you're left alone.
Part 2
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, gaslighting, hehe
Word Count: 3.1k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3
You were proud. Beyond proud, even.
Jack’s career was taking off fast, you barely had a second to let it all sink in. You could only imagine how he was feeling.
The TV was on in the basement of his house, his mom’s cooking making its way down the stairs and emitting a growl from your stomach. Jack, who was sitting next to you, smirked as he took his eyes off his phone. You refused to make eye contact as your face heated up in a blush. “Stop staring at me,” you mumble as you continue to scroll through your Instagram feed.
Jack laughed as he pocketed his phone. “I told you to eat something before I picked you up,” he shook his head as your thumb continued scrolling, though you were no longer paying any attention to what the posts were displaying. “It’s not my fault you never listen to me.”
“I listen to you all the time,” you say back, deciding to just turn off your phone as you had become distracted by him. “You’re the one who wouldn’t let me go to the store to grab some of those chips I like.”
He laughed again and scoffed slightly. “You have, like, three bags of them at your place,” he pointed out and you turned to face him.
“But I don’t have any here,” you reply and watch as he shakes his head.
Just then, the door to the basement opens and his mom calls down that dinner was ready, unknowingly making your shoulders drop in relief. Jack, who turned to call back to his mother, gave you a smile and shrug when he faced you again. “There, problem solved,” he said as he stood up and held his hand out to you.
As soon as you took it, the TV switched programs and began playing the teaser trailer for Avatar: The Way of Water. You were only half way up when you sat back down again and tugged on his hand. “Ooh, look,”
Jack looked at the screen and felt his heart skip a beat at what was currently playing. “Seriously?” He asked no one in particular, his face heating up in embarrassment. He looked back down at you and his expression softened when he saw your look of excitement. “We’re not watching the whole thing, right? I’m probably not even in this one.”
As soon as he said that, the scene changed to show his character, Spider, in all his glory. You squealed in excitement as you tightened your hold on his hand and pulled yourself up. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug as you turned away from the screen. “I’m so proud of you,” you say and pepper his face with kisses. “Look, you’re on TV!”
Jack laughed as he wrapped his arms around your middle, the feeling of contentment washing away any ounce of embarrassment he felt at the fact that damn near every channel on TV had begun showing the trailer for the film.
If only you had known that this would be one of your last good memories you share with him, maybe then you would have savored the moment a little bit longer.
-
Jack <3: I miss you so much. Today has gone by so slowly.
You smiled down at the text, hiding your phone behind the table as you didn’t want to risk getting kicked out of class. This final year of high school was brutal, and in more ways than one.
Jack was away filming Scream VI, so the person who provided you with the most comfort was thousands of miles away. You were close to failing one of your classes, one required to get your diploma, and you recently had a fallout with your close friend.
So, yeah, things could definitely be going better.
Tell me about it. Chemistry is NOT fun. I miss you, too, btw.
You hit send just as your teacher looked up from his desk. Hiding your phone, you give him a tight lipped smile and a thumbs up, something he squints his eyes at before he is back to grading papers.
Your phone vibrates against your leg and you grab your book, opening it to make it look like you were reading from it, when in reality you were unlocking your phone.
Jack <3: I still don’t know why you chose that over drama. Acting is fun and easy.
You playfully roll your eyes and glance at the teacher before typing out a response.
Says the actor.
Jack <3: Fair enough.
You hold back a sigh as you put your phone in your bag. You couldn’t wait for him to come home. Granted, he just left and would be in Montreal for a couple more months. This was probably the first time you’ve ever wished for a summer to fly by. After spending almost every day with Jack, it was hard to go even a week without him. The thought of spending damn near a whole summer without him had your heart aching.
Two weeks in and you missed him more than words could describe. Stupid high school. Stupid long distance relationships.
Even though he texted you every day, or called you on the odd day, it still didn’t soothe your aching heart. You were so young, but that didn’t stop the love between you from growing stronger by the minute. A year and a half is a long time for young love.
Every time you looked at your phone you were met with his picture as your lock screen. It sent a jolt of pain directly to your heart whenever you looked at his smiling face and you silently cursed yourself for being so in love with him.
-
High school ended, as did the summer, and you couldn’t be more content. You couldn’t be happier.
September was nearly here, meaning the summer without Jack was over.
That’s who you were with now.
The TV was once again on, and like last time, neither of you were paying attention to it. Both your phones were turned off and placed on the coffee table a few feet away.
Your body was trapped between the backrest of the couch and Jack’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his chin resting on the top of your head. It had been like this for days, with the both of you wrapped up in each other’s arms without any words being said.
It was like no time at all had passed since you last saw each other, let alone a whole summer. Everything fell back into place and the two of you were reunited once again. You weren’t sure when he’d be called away for his job again, so you were spending every possible second you had with him. You hadn’t seen your own room in days as you’d been staying with him since he came back home, something you both had no problem with.
If there was one thing Jack hated about his job, and he wouldn’t even go as far as saying he hated it, really, it was the months he’d spend away from you. He hadn’t met you yet when he was filming Avatar, so he only had to worry about missing his family and friends. Then he fell in love with you.
The ache he felt in his heart during the entirety of filming Scream VI was only completely dulled when he returned home and found comfort in your arms. The months that passed were only being fueled by his want to return to you, the one person he felt his happiest with.
Despite knowing you for only two years, you play a big part in who he is and who he wants to be in his future. You are his future. He was young, damn near too young to be planning things with you this early in his life, but he couldn’t see it happening any other way.
He couldn’t see himself loving anyone else.
That’s how the rest of the summer went. Actually, that’s how the rest of the year went.
December came fast and that’s when everything changed.
Avatar: The Way of Water was officially released. Spider was officially introduced to the world, and Jack had never felt more excited. It had been years since he filmed his scenes for this movie, and to see it all come together was emotional.
You were his date to the premiere, something he had asked you months beforehand so you would be prepared, and to see Jack on the big screen had you crying half an hour in. The person you saw in front of you was one you didn’t know. You were complete strangers at the time of him filming this, and it was a big contrast to the version of him sitting next to you now, his hand holding yours tightly.
It was that night when the inevitable happened.
The movie was a massive hit, and though Spider was a character not many people liked, Jack was definitely a natural newcomer that had stolen the hearts of many fans.
His Instagram followers grew with each passing day and you were grateful that the posts he had with you on his account were swarmed with kind comments. You knew that his career would take off fast once his movies hit the theaters, so you were prepared when your own comments began filling with fans of his. Mostly on the posts that involved him, mainly the birthday one you had uploaded a few weeks ago.
Jack was called away for press tours and interviews and promo after promo.
It was a miracle when he found the time to just sit and facetime you.
The smile you were met with when you answered the call was enough to make you forget about the feeling of loneliness that had slowly started creeping into your body.
At the end of the day, he was still yours.
“Hi,” you say and place your phone on your desk, standing it up so you could go back to applying your makeup.
“Hi, baby,” he said back and you don’t bother hiding the smile that took over your face at the pet name. “What are you doing?”
You drop the brush you were using back into the container and meet his eyes. “I’m just getting ready to go out,”
Jack nodded before a teasing grin took over his face. “Got a hot date tonight?”
You rolled your eyes. “Depends, are you coming home tonight?”
Your question made his heart skip a beat. Home. God, he missed you. He was sick of staying at these hotels with the rest of the cast. All he wanted was to come home to you. He feared he was beginning to lose touch with how his life was before all of this, and the thought of getting caught up in everything had his heart racing.
“I wish I was,” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” you trail off. “Me too.”
A silence took over and you finished applying eyeshadow before you looked back down at your phone.
“I’m just going out with some friends from high school,” you answered his previous question after realizing you never actually told him what your plans were.
Jack nodded again before he gave you a boyish grin. He watched as you coated your lips in a shiny gloss before he sighed, “You are so pretty,”
Your face heats up and you refuse to meet his eyes as you begin cleaning up the surface of your desk. When you finally look at him, you find him already looking at you, his eyes full of love and longing. “I miss you,” you say as you grab your phone again. You stay seated as you hold the device closer to you, your eyes never leaving your boyfriend’s.
“I miss you, too,” he says back. “You have no idea how much I wish I could’ve taken you with me.”
You look away and chew on your freshly glossed bottom lip. “Can you promise me something?”
You hear the sound of shuffling and glance down to see that Jack had sat up to give you his full attention. “Of course,” he sounded unsure and you were beginning to question if you even had a right to be asking him this.
“Maybe it’s not my place to ask this, but,” you trail off, unknowingly making Jack’s heart fill with a sense of dread. You continued before he could call you out on it, though. “Just, don’t forget about me, okay? Please.”
You felt pathetic for asking him that, but it was the only way to let him in and allow him to see what the change was doing to you without actually telling him. You were terrified of losing him and it felt as though it was gonna happen sooner or later.
“Y/n,” he said sternly, making you meet his eyes through the screen. “Nothing could ever make me forget you. I love you and I miss you more than you know. I mean, I’m in the middle of doing press tours for the movie I was in and all I can think of is coming back home to you.”
You felt dumb for feeling the way you did. Jack was living his dream and you were worried about him forgetting you when all he ever did was shower you with love and affection. There was nothing to worry about. “I’m sorry,”
“I love you,” he said again and you smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, something he noticed. “We’re gonna be fine. I promise.”
You nodded and continued to listen to him go on about how much fun he was having with the cast before your friend texted you to let you know that she was here to pick you up.
The call ended on a good note. A great one, even.
Things were going well.
Until they weren’t.
-
The release of Scream VI hit Jack’s career hard and completely flipped his world around.
People absolutely adored Ethan and were infatuated with the face who played him. Jack went from a newcomer with a small fanbase to millions of people obsessing over him within the span of a few hours.
Of course, you were his plus one to the premiere, and you got emotional at the way he played his character, your hand wrapped around his. You thought back to what you were doing when he was filming it, still stuck in high school and thousands of miles away from him. This person on the screen was one you knew, you loved, and belonged to you.
That was something a few people didn’t seem to realize. After gaining over five hundred thousand followers, some of his fans stumbled across his posts with you. Long story short, your comments were filled with hate and jealousy and envy. You made your account private a couple of days after the film was released.
That didn’t stop them from filling his comments.
She’s mid fr.
She needs to get away from my man.
Ew.
You can do better.
God, people were brutal.
Jack had no knowledge of the harassment you were receiving, but how could he? He was busier than ever and was once again off doing interviews and press tours.
You were alone again.
You knew what would happen to your relationship when he became a big time actor. You were prepared. You would have to share him with the world, and you thought you were prepared for that.
But, honestly, who were you kidding?
And what made things worse was when he slowly stopped answering your texts.
He was busy, you got that, but he would go days without talking to you, some of which were his most active days on social media.
It shouldn’t be like this.
Just the other day you were scrolling on TikTok and one of his videos came up. You looked through the comments and saw that he answered one that asked if he had a girlfriend.
The simple ‘yes’ made you feel both annoyed and reassured. You weren’t sure where you stood with him, so knowing that he was still at least somewhat involved in the relationship was comforting. On the other hand, seriously, he can answer a stranger’s comment but not a text from his girlfriend of two years?
You felt like a burden at this point.
Days go by without a word from him and you were beginning to lose control over your emotions. Your eyes ached from all the crying you did behind closed doors, and your heart felt as if it was decaying each day you were left unanswered.
What excuse would he have if he ever decided to answer you? He got so busy that he forgot to check his texts? His phone number was leaked and he was bombarded with random messages to the point that yours were so far down?
That would make you happy, you think.
Anything but the alternative.
He forgot about you.
Or he forgot how to be a boyfriend.
Or how to be a decent fucking human being.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you got ready for your date with him. It was planned weeks ago, set for the day after he returned home.
Your texts went unanswered, but you got ready anyway.
This was a test - one you hoped he passed.
But, as the day turned into night with no sign of him, you felt the last piece of your heart break. You also felt the last piece of your self control snap.
He failed.
You grab your phone and click on his contact, not bothering to roll your eyes once you were sent to his voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. Um, you failed the test I gave you,” you say and quickly wipe away a tear that slipped down your face. “I don’t know what happened to us or what happened to you, but I’m…I’m done.”
You glance at your nightstand and pause when you see the framed picture of the two of you. If you could turn back time and go back to how things were at the time it was taken, you would in a heartbeat.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you, I really wish I was. You meant everything to me and I wish you kept your promise,” you continued to look at the picture as you thought of what else was left to say. “Good luck with everything. I wish you nothing but the best, and, yeah. I’m done. Goodbye.”
You hang up and toss your phone on your bed, grabbing the picture afterwards. You stare at it for a few more seconds, and slowly your sadness turns to rage.
Another second goes by before your hand moves and throws the frame across the room. It hits the wall opposite from you and you hear the glass shatter before it hits the ground.
#jack champion#jack champion x reader#jack champion imagine#jack champion imagines#scream 6 ethan#ethan scream 6#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry imagines#ethan landry#scream 6 x reader#scream 6 imagines#imagines#angst#fluff
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Cw: noncon, unbalanced power dyanamics, innocent!reader, manipulation, g!p, corruption, drugging? [Implied], groping, somnophillia, reader being treated like a bimbo (she is)
Notes: idk I lowkey rushed this out since I'll be inactive for like 3 days to camp! Hope u like this :p
Parings: vocal coach!aespa x idol!fem reader
Everyone in the entertainment knew you were the favorite of the most favorable of coaches..they made it obvious who their favorite was and it shows in how they treat you. The way they stared at you while you sang alongside them, all you thought was that you were just the perfect student, but in ways more than your talents in singing dancing and etcetera, oh you most definitely were.
It was laughable just how shameless they all could be, Giselle groping you in every place her eyes would linger for a little too long to 'try it out' laughing it out with you, at this point it's become a daily occurrence she says that it's your fault that she even has these desires for you saying 'Your basically asking for it every time you come into my room, and with that outfit? Yeah... I thought so' but you were wearing such simple clothing? Huh maybe you were just dressing too revealingly, not that she minded anyway..
" sorry but you were basically asking for me to touch you! I mean how could I not? Just write it off as a thank you for all the shit I did for your career. "
Ning ning never made you uncomfortable, no matter how much she looked with eyes that were devouring you, or however much she groped you. She just made it so easy to feel like you were at home! How could you not feel comfy with her? Yes while she was pretty touchy... You didn't mind did you? Course you didn't, your pretty little head didn't have to worry about that! Just let her have some fun! I mean it's the least you can do for her?
"Just a touch.. I mean I've done worse y/n? Just let me continue, I know you want to anyway so don't try to resist me. "
Karina was definitely the most quiet, silently checking you out in the hallway as you checked whatever was on your phone, definitely also the most stealthy, well not really after you drunk the drink she gave you you were just too limp to feel her hands on your body. Hey where did all these hickeys come from? and... Why are you so sore? Why do you always black out when visiting Karina? You know maybe you should just stop asking questions! I mean it was hard keeping you quiet in the first place.. !
"Huh?... Another hickey? Oh... Well I guess you should just cover that up! How'd it get there? Uhm I don't know! I'll ask the guards for the camera footage! " (there were never any cameras but you never noticed did you?)
Minjeong was just attracted to you, she doesn't know what really sparked it up.. Was it the innocence in your eyes whenever you looked at her? Or was it whenever she looked at you, it seemed like you were asking for her to just... Fuck you? The innocent doe eyes you throw at her every time she coached you during vocal warm ups. She doesn't know... But what she does is that you're so naive..
" y/n.. My dicks been hurting! Can you help? You don't want me in pain right? So help me out please... "
-
" Aeri sunbae? Wow! Hi! I've been busy lately... Sorry we had to meet like this.. " You've just debuted, you thank your coaches and your other members for helping you get this far! But your coaches seemed sad that you even debuted.. I mean how could they not? They just lost their favorite student... Well not for long... As long as you don't struggle they'll have their favorite student back in bed:)
#୨୧.ningie#୨୧.minjeong#୨୧.jimin#୨୧.giselle#𐙚.ramblings#🎀.noncon#🎀.somnophillia#🎀.drugging#🎀.corruption#୨୧.AESPA#aespa smut#aespa x reader
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141 Leaving their partner to keep them safe
A/N: G/N reader, this was inspired by Eyes Without a Face by Billy Idol which I've been listening to repeat for like an hour. Such a vibe.
Warnings: Angst
Masterlist
Gaz
It had been a decision that had kept him up for nights. One her eventually went to Price about. "You have to do what you think is right Gaz. This isn't a decision I can make for you." John has told him, face soft with pity. He didn't envy the position Kyle was in.
So he took you out, gave you the best night he possibly could. On the now dark beach he took your hand, sat down the pair of you on a public chair. The roar of waves in the background. "I wanted to do everything I possibly could with you tonight." He swallowed and let out a deep breath.
"Kyle? Is everything alright." He couldn't look at you, couldn't look at those eyes of yours.
"I won't be able to see you anymore."
"You- huh? What do you mean?"
"I'm breaking up with you. You're a distraction at work, I can't focus when I'm thinking about you." His words had a sliver of truth to them, yes you distracted him sometimes but it was never a problem. It was never something he couldn't control. The real reason had been an attack on a number of SAS operatives' families. Leaked files that had compromised a number of people. Some had died. Kyle hadn't been compromised or had his file leaked but it was still a very real threat.
It has put his entire life into a new perspective.
Eventually he made up his mind. "It's not your fault, I don't think I can be in a relationship at all. It isn't a fit with my life anymore, I'm sorry."
"I... see." You looked over to the ocean. "I thought tonight you were going to… I don't know what I thought tonight was going to be. Not this. I hope your career works out well for you." Your voice went from broken to stoic. Almost emotionless. Kyle wanted to comfort you, to hold you close but he didn't. It wouldn't help you, it would only help him. Kyle knew he had been selfish enough that night.
So Kyle watched as you got up from the public chair. "You can get your stuff from my house tomorrow when I'm at work. I don't want it." From stoic to angry.
"Let me take you home, it's late."
"Piss off Kyle. I'll get an uber. You worry about where you're spending the night." There was an anger that bubbled in your chest, hand clenched. Despite your anger directed to him, it was more at yourself. That you ever thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.
Without looking at him you started to walk off, a mutter beneath your breath. "I hate the fucking beach."
Ghost
A single picture. One you would never know about. It was of you, a smile on your face as you candidly looked to the side. You had been drawing the curtains closed. A picture that you never knew and would never know was taken.
A single picture that had been sent to Ghost.
A single picture that had made him make up his mind.
Ghost had made sure to clean out all evidence of himself from your house while you were out shopping. That day he helped you unpacked. A smile had been plastered from one side of your face to the other. You had been so happy for his return, so happy to see him again. "I don't love you anymore." He had said those words when you sat down on the couch next to him. For a second you thought it was just a cruel joke. But you searched his eyes, searched that masked face of his.
"What?"
"Nothing more to it." He stood up from the couch and you jumped up after him.
"Is there someone else?"
"No, there's nothing that happened. Don't overthink it. People fall out of love sometimes."
"Can I do something to make you fall back in love? We can get through this, this doesn't have to be the end of the road. Simon if your scared if we are going too fast or-"
"-No. Nothing you say will change this." His movements were rigid, tense as he walked towards the door. Ready to vanish into the night to never be seen again.
"Simon-" Your bottom lip quivered and your eyes were big while you started at the back of his head.
"Don't call me that. Find someone that can love you the way you love me, because I can't."
Price
It had been a month. A month since work had been brought home. Back on your feet, the bruises had faded. Wrapped up on the couch a figure moved in the corner of your eye. "John?" No answer. You frowned and pushed the blankets off your body. The cool air hit your legs and you shuffled towards his figure. You could have sworn you heard the small click of the front door opening.
"John?" He froze with his hand on the door, a bag slung over his shoulder. "Do you have another mission? I suppose I can't keep you here all the time." You smiled and he nodded. He returned the smile but there was something in his eyes. A sadness, a deep sadness. "Do you know when you will be back?"
"No." His eyes broke eye contact. "Let me go out this in the car and I'll be back to say goodbye." Before you could open your mouth he had pushed open the door and disappeared.
True to his word he came back to the front door and opened his arms wide, welcoming you into him as he usually did. You hurried your face into his chest and your hands practically clawed into his shirt. A gentle kiss blessed the top of your head.
Slowly you pulled back from him, eyes glazed as you looked into his. "You're not coming back are you?"
He froze and his face turned into one of pity. "You always were a smart thing." His head gently started to stroke your hair.
"Was it something I did John? Is there something that I didn't do? Is there-"
"-Shh shhh, I promise you. It was nothing you did. It's not you. You're perfect, too perfect for me. But I have to focus on work."
"John no please- don't-." You choked on your words, a sob ripped from your as you buried your face back into his chest.
"I'm so sorry. Shhh shhh. Everything will be okay. You still have your whole life ahead of you."
"But I don't want that without you John please don't leave. I love you please, please, please, I love you so much I'll do anything please John." Your begs were interpreted as he grasped both sides of your face with his hands. His brows were furrowed and tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
His lips pressed against yours only for a moment. "I love you too sweetheart. Please don't make this harder. I have to do what I have to do."
"John." He let go of you and started to turn but you grabbed his arm. "John please."
His shoulders tensed and his breath frosted in the cold air. John didn't try to pull from you, he didn't say a word yet the request to let go was loud in the air.
"I love you John. I'll never forget about you."
"Forget about me. Please, it would be kinder."
"John!" You let go of his arm and sunk to your knees, watching him go.
Soap
Graves's words rung in his head. Even after his death, the man still managed to make his life a living hell. "Heard you got a sweetheart back at home McTavish." If he hadn't been in the middle of throwing out the C4 there was a very real possibility that Graves's words would have made him freeze.
"Perhaps when I'm done here I'll go show them what a real man is. A real soldier. Perhaps be their shoulder to cry on. Then the second they get over you- make them mine. Will never think about your sorry ass again."
That final C4 has really made it truly satisfying to wipe whatever smirk that was on his face into smithereens.
The more Soap thought about it though, the more it worried him. If Graves knew you were existed then who else did? What if Shepard wanted to use you against him? What if someone else turned?
He could let that happen to you. At the same time, Johnny was scare. Terrified, he couldn't face breaking your heart. As much as he thought you deserved to be told face to face, he couldn't. "I'm a fucking coward." He hissed to himself, his handwriting messy as he finished scribbling down the piss poor excuse of a break up.
You were so peaceful in your once shared bed. Content. A mood that would drastically change at your wake. When you would find him long gone. Only a note for an excuse. Johnny taped the small note to his pillow and made the bed. You stired a little in the bed but didnt wake from your deep sleep.
In a moment of weakness, Johnny sat down on the bed. He lay down backwards so his head was on your chest. Eyes closed he could almost imagine the way your hands would thread through his hair. He could almost imagine that laughter that he would never hear again. "I love you." A small whiper into the darkness. With a deep breath he slowly moved forward. Still so peaceful asleep, he left, a final glance at the doorway.
#mw2 x reader#ghost x reader#john price x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#mw2#modern warfare 2#simon riley#johnny mctavish#kyle garrick#cod x reader#call of duty#posted on mobile so like good luck
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(steddie | mature | 2k | tags: established relationship, post-s4, Valentine's Day, Robin is the best, fluff | summary: Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can't say it. | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is just a four-letter word by @sal-si-puedes | AO3)
"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.
"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.
Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.
"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."
Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.
"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".
They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.
With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.
After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.
That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.
As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"
Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.
"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."
"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"
"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.
"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"
They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.
His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.
It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.
He still does.
So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.
He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.
Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"
That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.
Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."
"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."
Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.
"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.
"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.
They don't let go for a long time.
It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.
So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.
"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."
Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"
Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."
"Oh."
It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.
"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."
Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.
"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."
Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"
"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."
Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.
"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."
And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.
Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.
"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"
Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"
Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.
"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.
Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.
"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.
Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.
He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#steddie fluff#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddielovemonth#day 27#love is just a 4 letter word#my writing
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