#he speaks of it with such fondness and adoration

[littlemissagrafina]

Live, Laugh, Llama

Summary: Bobby looked back over his shoulder, when he heard muffled sounds of protests and the thuds of limbs hitting limbs.

Eddie had a gloved hand shoved over Buck's mouth and Buck was pushing back at Eddie's own chin and face, the two of them scrabbling and batting at each other when Eddie's hand slipped from Buck's face.

“Stop with the llamas!” Eddie grunted, face pushed to the side by Buck's arm as they shoved at each other.

“Stop being a llama hater and I will!”

-

In which Bobby doesn't know whether or not to be concerned or just plain confused, so he settles for both.

Read on AO3

There was an air of tension around Buck and Eddie when they walked through the doors of the station, which, in and of itself, is not unusual. For years, the two men had been followed by the weight of all the moments and feelings left unsaid between them, as they spiraled around each other. They would fall away at times, before being pulled back together as if they were planets gravitating back into orbit.

So tension was not unusual between Buck and Eddie, nor had it dissipated when they finally got together. If anything, the tension had even increased at times, much to the dismay of the A shift, who all now had to deal with adoring looks and blushing grins that didn't end when they caught eyes as they stared. And although they were teased, everyone knew it was from a place of happiness.

It could be seen in the way Hen's smirk would soften to a smile when she caught them sharing a quick kiss as they changed before the start of a shift.

How Chimney would quietly leave a blanket for them when they collapsed on the couch together after a hard call, when all they needed in that moment was a quiet embrace to steady themselves with.

When Ravi stepped aside enough for Eddie to watch him check Buck’s harness, sharing a nod with the older man - an assurance that he would have Buck's back in that moment that Eddie couldn't, rather than taking the opportunity to tease them over their occasional codependency.

It was Bobby, working at the stove in the station's kitchen, who only shook his head with fond exasperation when Buck all but plastered himself to Eddie's side as he stood by the coffee machine, waiting for the fresh pot to finish brewing. Bobby had watched the couple, they all had. How could they not when they had all waited and hoped for Buck and Eddie to finally see what they were to each other. So Bobby had watched, and he'd seen the way they reigned themselves, and each other, in when it came to the affection they shared at the station and on shifts.

They had been remarkably professional, a fact that filled Bobby with pride.

Buck had come far from his fire truck stealing days, and Eddie had softened, allowing himself to be seen by not only his son and his partner but by their found family as well. Their crew and extended families had learned a lot about each other (sometimes more than they would like to at times) which is why it was easy to let them share those small moments when they needed it.

Their whole team had been “compromised” so to speak in any case, had become a family rather than just a team who worked together. They all found and needed moments together at times, after all they had been through.

So, again, tension was not unusual among Buck and Eddie, nor the rest of the team. But what was unusual was the kind of tension.

It wasn't the tension carried over after a long or hard shift, it wasn't even sexual tension, something Bobby loathed that he could even recognise from them. It was Buck, that was like seeing it from May or Harry at this point.

No, the air between the two men as they walked in before their 24h shift, the last of their team to arrive, was almost cold.

Now, the two had been upset at each other before, the argument during the lawsuit was more than enough proof of that. They'd occasionally clashed after Buck had been reckless during a call, or Eddie had tried to pull back and deal with things himself. But that was before they'd made effort through therapy, both separately and together, to have healthy communication and boundaries (as much as possible considering their intertwined work and personal lives)

Considering said efforts in healthy communication, the fact that they were snipping and muttering back and forth (without the usual lighthearted air that their banter came with, that is) as they joined everyone upstairs, was unsettling enough for Bobby to pay closer attention to them. From the corner of his eye, as he turned to watch them, he saw Hen's gaze following them as well.

With a huff, Buck veered towards the coffee machine, and Eddie dropped down into a seat at the table near Hen. Apart from greeting Hen as if everything was normal, Eddie sat quietly, drumming his fingers on the table as he leant back in the chair.

Buck, however, stirred their coffee with slightly more force than was necessary in Bobby's humble opinion. He suppressed a wince when it looked like Buck was going to drop the spoon roughly in the sink when he was done, but all the younger man did was rinse it off before setting it down.

They were good spoons, and it always bugged both Bobby (as well as Buck, Bobby knew) when they were thrown around roughly. It was irrational, they both knew that, but sue them. Or maybe don't, once was enough.

Buck moved over to the table, setting the two mugs down before pulling out the chair across from Eddie and settling into it. He picked one of the mugs up, taking a slow sip as he met Eddie's eyes. He hummed, smacking his lips.

Eddie's eyes narrowed slightly. “You gonna share one of those?”

The other mug was silently pushed across the table. “Of course I'll share. You know how I love making it for you, Sunshine.”

Bobby didn't know what was going on between the two, neither did Hen by her raised eyebrows or Chimney from where he sat on the couch, his phone forgotten in his hand where he'd more than likely been texting Maddie before getting distracted by Buck and Eddie. But what Bobby did know was the tone that Buck used when he was trying to get a reaction from Eddie, and he was using it right then.

Eddie obviously knew, too, because all he did was take the mug, shooting a sickly sweet smile and a “thank you” back at his partner. He and Buck both sat quietly, the strange silence only broken when Eddie set the mug down after draining the last sip of coffee from it, Buck still sipping at his own.

“You wanna know what's great about this blend?” Buck tilted his head, and Bobby watched as his eyes tracked Eddie as he stood, taking his mug to the sink.

Buck continued without waiting for an answer. “It tastes delicious with a bit of llama milk. It's popular in South America, did you know that? To drink llamas milk. Wouldn't you be interested in trying it, Eds?”

Chimney and Hen shared bewildered looks, and Bobby was sure his own expression mirrored theirs. Llamas milk?

Turning around, Eddie leant against the counter with his arms crossed. “As a matter of fact, I did know that. You were actually the one who told me, but thank you for the reminder, Sweetheart. And no, I'm not interested.”

Before Buck could respond and continue the odd back and forth between the two (Bobby wasn't sure if the passive aggressive exchange could be called a conversation) the alarm sounded.

Bobby didn't know whether or not to be grateful for the interruption, but as they piled into the truck he couldn't help but wonder over the interaction.

-

As it turns out, he didn't have to wonder for long because comments and facts about llamas followed them from call to call as Buck somehow found a way to relate a scene they worked at to some factoid or other about llamas.

The call where a homeowner had been attacked by her dog after she'd used the back entrance, citing the excuse of forgetting her key? Turns out, she hadn't been the homeowner and the dog had stood firm in its guard duties.

It was only after the woman's injuries had been seen too and she'd been taken away in the ambulance, police cruiser in tow behind them to deal with the criminal aspect of the call, that Buck spoke up with his first call related llama fact of the day.

“Did you know that llamas have been used as guard animals since the 80's in a lot of areas? Pretty interesting, huh?” He spoke into the headset, catching Bobby's eye and grinning at him as the truck jostled.

“Sure is, Kid.”

Eddie sighed.

-

It continued in that vein for the rest of their shift.

No matter if they were on a call or back at the station, Buck managed to sprout out some new piece of information about llamas, and it was somehow always related to whatever they were doing at the moment.

-

Llamas can live for up to 20 years. This one came after a birthday party gone wrong.

Bobby no longer wanted candles on their birthday cakes. Ever. Again.

-

When one llama is angry at another llama, they'll stick their tongue out to show exactly what they feel to the other.

Bobby wanted it to be known that preschoolers could be absolutely terrifying. He was not afraid to admit that.

Having a whole class of 5 year olds stick their tongues out at them with angry frowns when they were told (gently and very nicely, if Bobby could say so himself! And he did!) that they weren't allowed to ride in the firetruck this time, was a feeling of unnerving fear that was enough to send a shudder down his spine.

(And no, Athena, he wasn't exaggerating! He swore a few of them were looking straight at his soul. No. Athena, Athena, stop laughing. It's not funny!)

-

Llamas communicate in a lot of ways. They'll use their ears, their tails, their whole body posture, to speak to one another. But their most used form of communication was to hum.

Let's just say that things could get pretty messy when someone thinks they've been snubbed out of the lead role in a play they'd worked extremely hard at landing. And also that sequins were not to be underestimated. Ever.

Those tiny little shiny disks were dangerous things.

-

“Hen, Chimney, I want their vitals and status as soon as possible.” Bobby ordered as they all filed into the gym during their latest call.

Apparently, two idiots hyped up on steroids had decided to play at being amateur engineers and made a bench press version of Frankenstein's monster. All in an attempt to see how much weight they could lift together.

Needless to say, their horrifyingly welded weight bar, come bench press, come dumbbell contraption hadn't lasted long. The overloaded and unbalanced weight bar had all but crumbled as soon as they'd tried to lift it from the rack, leaving the two knuckleheads pinned beneath the metal and weights.

“Buck, Eddie,” Bobby continued as the two paramedics set down their med bags and knelt down as close to their respective patients as the weights and other mess of metal and bench allowed. “Get started on moving what you can that isn't currently pressing down on them or the rest of this mess. As soon as you have the all clear from Hen and Chim, I want you to get as much as possible of whatever is left, lifted and removed as safely as you can.”

The duo nodded, marching off to the other side and getting to work.

And look, Bobby had to hand it to them. Whatever it is that had been going on with them all day, with the (almost vicious at times) squabbling and the llamas, they had left behind as they got out the truck with each call they had.

He was impressed by them. But it also didn't make whatever was going on any less disconcerting. As they finished up with the gym-bozos, Buck and Eddie separating the destroyed bits of the franken-creation, and Hen and Chim loading the pair into the ambulance, Bobby secretly hoped that whatever It was, could be left behind at the scene with the scraps of metal.

He loved his team, but sometimes dealing with them was tiring. And today had been a day. He still wasn't sure whether to be outright concerned or amused by the facts and retorts fired between the couple.

Ambling back out to the truck, the ambulance already on the way to a nearby hospital (no urgent care, luckily,) Bobby had to hold back what was either a sigh or a snort. At this point he didn't know which reaction was most commonly brought out around the team, but if he had to base it solely on Buck's involvement it would probably be tied.

And, of course, Buck was the reason for it this time as well because as soon as they settled into the seats and the truck was pulling away from the curb, there came yet another llama fact. Of which there had been plenty already.

“Did you know that llamas can carry up to a third of their body weight. But if you overload them too much, they'll just lay down and refuse to move. They also–”

Bobby looked back over his shoulder, when he heard muffled sounds of protests and the thuds of limbs hitting limbs.

Eddie had a gloved hand shoved over Buck's mouth and Buck was pushing back at Eddie's own chin and face, the two of them scrabbling at each other, batting at each other when Eddie's hand slipped from Buck's face.

“Stop with the llamas!” Eddie grunted, face pushed to the side by Buck's arm as they shoved at each other.

“Stop being a llama hater and I will!”

Bobby whistled, ignoring their wince as the sharpness of the sound left feedback skittering through their headsets that were, miraculously, still balanced over their ears.

“Boys! Enough! Sit back down, leave each other alone, and we'll talk about this back at the station!” He ordered, satisfaction curling in his chest when they immediately did as told.

-

Bobby would like it to be known that he had a lot of patience.

It had been tested a lot in his life. Buck was a favourite for the first place title in that regard.

He could find humor in a lot of situations.

But sitting at the dinner table up in the loft, during a calm lull that they were all hoping would extend for the next half hour until they got off shift, he felt that this particular situation had tested both his patience and his humor.

“So let me get this straight.” He shot a look at Buck when he smirked. The younger man's mouth shut with a click.

“You two have been egging each other on and winding each other up-all shift long, might I add- because of a llama!?”

Buck sat up in his chair next to Eddie, across from Bobby. “Whoa, whoa, it's not just any llama! It's Sunshine!”

Bobby caught sight of Hen and Chim smothering their laughter where the leant against the railing of the loft behind the table and had to close his eyes to force himself not to give into his own urge to laugh at the entire situation.

“Right. Because of Sunshine. Because you want to adopt a llama. Yes, yes, sorry, Sunshine. You want to adopt Sunshine, and Eddie wouldn't let you?” He could feel a migraine starting. He'd been torn between worry and amusement all shift long, and this was the reason!? Maybe he and Athena should have gone on that cruise when they'd had the chance.

Buck huffed, crossing his arms. “Look, the petting zoo doesn't want to keep him anymore because he keeps spitting at the kids–”

Now Eddie leant forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I mean, if I had a bunch of tiny people pulling at my hair, I would too!”

“It's wool, not hair.”

He waved a hand. “Where the hell would we keep a whole ass llama, anyway, Buck!?”

“We could keep him in the yard!”

Eddie threw his head back and groaned, slumping down in his seat. “And when he gets lonely? Llamas are social animals, babe! We work too many shifts to pay him enough attention. Not to mention how much feeding it would cost!”

“Yeah, but he'll either go to some wanna be exotic pet owner, or we could take him and keep him from being mistreated by some idiot who doesn't know the first thing about llamas or how to take care of them! Besides, Chris would love it!”

Buck grinned innocently at Eddie, the grin dropping and his eyes bugging as a voice spoke out from the top of the stairs. This time, Bobby didn't even try to stop his laughter from bubbling up.

“Evan Buckley, I know I told you that you can't have that llama.” Athena arched a brow, coming to stand next to Bobby's chair.

“Thena, c'mon. Wouldn't it be so great–” Buck pleaded, recovering fast.

“No, it would not. The poor animal would not be happy or have enough space, I know you know that from all of the research I've heard that you spewed today. Besides, you, Mr, are too late. Sunshine has already been taken to a farm where he will be happy and cared for as a show llama.”

Buck slumped in his seat, dropping his head down onto Eddie's shoulder with a pout.

“I guess you're right. It would have been cool if we'd had the space and time, though.”

Eddie hummed, and Bobby smiled, feeling his chest warm when the other man lifted a hand to gently pat Buck's head.

“Maybe once Chris is settled into the school year, we can talk about a different pet. One that works for all of our schedules and doesn't need as much maintenance.”

Buck perked up immediately, his hand flying for his phone, already telling them about the different pet options that could work for them.

Bobby shook his head, lifting his gaze when Athena leant into him. He grinned at the fond eye roll from her.

His crew could sometimes drive him crazy, and he would definitely be taking some tylenol later, but he wouldn't change his family for a thing.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash #911 #911 fanfic #911 fanfiction #buddie #firefam #buddie fanfic #buddie fanfiction #evan buckley x eddie diaz

[opaleyedprince]

thinking abt my ocean wip

#opal.txt #especially funny from outside characters pov #imagine u meet this guy and he's like yeh i wanna be a marine biologist #and then he becomes an eco activist and explodes a tank at the local aquarium and vanishes into the night #and then u meet him like 2 years later and he has this computer program that can communicate with Something in the sea #he speaks of it with such fondness and adoration #and you think oh he's insane #until one day you're heading across the sea and wake in the middle of the night bc #there's something that sounds like a whale singing #but it's not a whale - you head up to the deck and you see him standing by the railing typing frantically into his laptop #he's Talking to it and it's talking back #you can't see it except for a huge wave moving around the boat like it's dancing with it and two enormous reflective spots #which are its eyes #you think he will jump overboard but he manages to resist #the horrors are inescapable and they love you etc etc #wip: something in the water

[lunarcry]

wouldnt it be funny if i finally added figaro to my muse list but put him under type0

#stardust speaking ! #jokes aside i realized i nvr added natsume................the mess of this blog is real #anyway i have ch7&8 left of the event + the card stories but the emu akito puyo puyo fight LOLLL 1) i Adore that akito practiced before all #this 2) the fact emu said yeah ive played with shousuke a lot. and then specifies that its basically #cuz shousuke kept wanting rematches cuz emu kept winning............................. #also emu being rly good at ddr-like stuff #nene & akito toya all being like 'these ppl dont seem like gamers' #akito losing his nice guy persona after 'ure tsukasas friends right'. emu going hm hes a bit different rn? #akito then going back to :) lets do our best:) before puyopuyo and emu going huh?!?!? IMMMMMMMM #im so fond of them

[clown-demon]

((There's a certain Akutagawa plush I want SO BAD but he's 37$....

#Ti speaks #I want him so bad #he's so adorable... #I'm not too fond of the way the common cheap ones look... #but this one looks more like Wan!

[startears0153]

☾ Seeing you cry in your sleep

How they react to finding you crying silently in your sleep.

☾ Characters: Argenti, Blade, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio

☾ Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, GN Reader, StellaronHunter!Reader in Blade's, Ratio (affectionately) calling you fool in his part

Might write a 2nd part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha (and maybe Sampo) in the future :)

Argenti

Upon entering your shared cottage, Argenti finds you sleeping on the chair by the window. They must’ve fallen asleep while admiring the scenery of the falling snow outside, Argenti thought with a fond smile. 

For a moment, Argenti found himself unable to move, for his emerald colored eyes were transfixed upon the serene beauty of the scene before him. The falling snow, the white winter wonderland serving as the perfect backdrop to accentuate the beauty of your resting figure.

Still, he realized it probably wouldn’t do well if you were to fall sick from the cold. So, he quietly made his way through the room and draped a blanket over your figure. 

That was when he noticed the presence of tears on the corners of your eyes. 

For a while, Argenti thought his eyes were deceiving him. It wasn’t until he saw a lone tear fall from your eye that he was finally hit by the fact that you were, indeed, crying in your sleep. 

His heart ached upon the sight and he instinctively reached to cup your cheek; his thumb gently caressing the corner of your eye, wiping away the stream of tears that began to fall like tender snow. 

After some deliberation on how to proceed, Argenti would kneel before your sleeping figure before carefully stirring you awake with a gentle squeeze to your hand and softly calling out your name. 

“Good morning my dear,” He would greet you with a tender smile, though you could easily sense the twinge of sadness and melancholia lingering in his voice. “I apologize if this may sound unpleasant to you but … you were crying in your sleep. Is … Is everything alright?” 

He would fret over you, but he would try to keep it to a minimum lest he were to accidentally do more harm than good. He was obviously worried about what ailed you, but again, what mattered most to him was your comfort. 

Regardless of whether you choose to speak of the reason for your tears, Argenti would remain by your side, kneeling before you as he held your hand in his. 

If he could, he would do anything in his power to vanquish the reason behind your tears. He never wants you to shed tears, neither in sleep or wake, ever again.

Blade

It was almost time for the opening act of Elio’s Script. Blade comes to searches for you in the meeting spot, and finds you asleep above one of the many wooden crates of the abandoned factory. 

How carefree, Blade thought with a scoff. Even so, Blade’s heart blossoms with warmth, that very same warmth that is born from his affection and adoration for you and all your silly antics. 

If he could, he would let you rest for longer and perhaps even join you in your restful slumber, resting your head on his shoulder. But alas, the Script takes priority and it was almost time to begin. 

So he reaches to shake your shoulder … but then froze upon the sight of tears falling from your eyes. 

Blade has never been one for tears. In a different life, perhaps, he would have been. But tears have no meaning for Blade. Crying does not provide one with salvation, no matter how much one cries, what was lost could never return. 

And yet, the sight of your tears shook him to his core. 

Blade didn’t know what to do. What could he do anyway? Reach for your face and wipe away your tears with his thumb? Lean towards you and kiss the corners of your eyes, all in hopes for your tears to stop cascading from your eyes? How ridiculous. As though that would solve any of your problems. 

So, he does what he is supposed to. Grab your shoulder and gently shake you awake. 

“Wake up. It’s almost time to begin.” He says brusquely, already turning around for his back to face you. “Wipe your tears. Don’t let the enemy see even a single hint of weakness.” 

You would be shocked upon realizing you were crying in your sleep and hurriedly wiped away the remains of your tears. Not soon after, you join him by the ledge of the building, watching over the city with puffy eyes. Blade would steal a glance at you and then he would say, 

“Do not be hasty. I am with you.”

You didn’t need to try hard to know that he wasn’t just talking about the battle ahead.

Dan Heng

The hour was late when Den Heng jolted awake from his sleep. He dreamt of a vague memory of his past incarnation and saw a nightmare where his friends were swept away by the waves; of you disappearing in the dark sea of clouds. 

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Dan Heng takes a moment to recompose himself before shifting to rest on his side, thus meeting the familiar sight of your back. They’re here, Dan Heng thought to himself, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. It’s all just a dream. 

Not wanting to wake you, Dan Heng simply stares at your back. The steadiness of your breathing, a reminder that you are alive. Gingerly, Dan Heng reaches to subtly trace soothing lines on your back. Truth be told, it was probably more soothing for him than you. 

Then suddenly, there was a slight change in the pattern of your breathing. More feeble and erratic. Concerned that he might have woken you up, Dan Heng pushed himself up to check on your condition … 

… Only to find you crying in your sleep. 

Upon the sight of your tears, falling so steadily onto the fabric of your already damp pillow, Dan Heng’s breath hitches. He shakes your shoulders, calling your name again and again until your eyes open and meet his pairs of jaded blue. 

“You’re crying.” He said bluntly, his brows furrowed as a tell-tale sign of his bleeding concern for you. “What? No, I’m fine. Yes, I woke up because of a nightmare but I’m more concerned for you.” 

The two of you would both end up sitting on the bed, both fretting over each other’s condition. You asked Dan Heng about his nightmare and he would reply that it was the usual. He asked you about your tears, and you replied you didn’t even know you were crying until Dan Heng pointed it out. 

In the end, the both of you would end up embracing each other tightly, providing both comfort and strength to one another. You both wind up laying on the bed in each other’s arms. 

Dan Heng would stay awake for a while after you’ve fallen asleep, gazing at your resting figure in hopes that he would never have to see you cry in your sleep once more.  

Dr. Ratio

After a long day full of shameful displays of stupidity from the people around him, Dr. Veritas Ratio was done for the day and is free to visit his beloved. I cannot wait to see them, Ratio thought as he made large strides towards your office. It has been far too long since I’ve had an intellectually stimulating conversation!

He thinks of all the topics he could talk with you, ranging from the most mundane things such as how each other’s days went and the more complex like the discourse regarding a recent hot theory. 

Imagine his disappointment when he enters your office and finds you dead asleep on your desk. 

Frowning, Ratio rationalizes that you were probably just as exhausted as he was and that there were plenty of chances for conversation when the two of you have rested up. Still. He was disappointed. 

He walked towards your desk and took a moment to observe your resting figure. You were sleeping above your paper reports. Now that’s a lark. But then, he noticed something else. 

Your papers were soaked, all from the tears that were still cascading from your eyes. 

Upon the sight of your tears, Ratio’s heart seemingly ceased to beat. There was shock, confusion, concern and all these strong emotions that meld with one another. In a rare moment of panic, Ratio shook you awake, forcing you away from your stained papers. 

“You fool, just what do you think you’re doing?!” He shouts, worry bleeding through his tone. “Don’t ‘What the hell, Veritas’ me! You’re the one crying on your reports and making them unreadable!” 

You would be confused until you realize that you were crying in your sleep. You touched the lingering wetness on your cheeks and laughed feebly. It was probably the pent up stress, you offered weakly, annoying Ratio once more. 

You expect a lecture, but unexpectedly, Ratio places hand behind your head, brings you to rest against his broad shoulder. 

“You are a fool for ruining those reports. If you must cry … cry on my shoulder instead.” 

It was a silly attempt at cheering you up, but you appreciated it all the same. 

Hehe this was a super fun prompt to write! Might write a second part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha when I feel the inspiration hitting me 👀

Also still semi-working on banners ... sigh, lets hope I find a good theme soon enough.

Thank you for reading 💖

#honkai: star rail #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #dr. ratio x reader #ratio x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #StarTearsWrites

[prettypinkprincessa]

Rafe with a shy reader!!

You are too pure for this world. Is what he thought when he first laid eyes on you. Cute big doe eyes, soft cardigans, and the little tiny sketch book you carried everywhere with you. You were adorable.

“Hey, kid.” He spoke out. You jumped slightly at his sudden outburst and smiled, waving at him as he sat down infront of you.

“Do you talk?” he asked. Your eyes widened and your lips fell into a pout. You weren’t quite fond of your own voice. It was quiet and small and everytime you spoke someone asked you to speak up. It got to the point where you just stopped talking in general.

You nodded your head slowly and looked away. Avoiding his heavy gaze. He caught on pretty quick.

“Whats your name?” He asked slyly. Knowing that you’d have to talk.

You looked up slowly from your sketchbook and sighed.

“Y/n..” you spoke softly. Giving him your name then going straight back to drawing. He was shocked to say the least. Taken aback by your voice. It was so soft and sweet, he wondered why you never spoke. And ever since then he’s made your life hell by making sure you speak everytime he sees you.

💗 he would purposely trip you (and catch you) or scare you just to hear your cute little whimpers and screams. He found every little noise you made adorable.

💗he would invite you over for sleepovers at his house just to listen to the cute little noises you make in your sleep. (Yes, kinda stalker-ish but he’s head over heels for you)

💗 he would act overly interested in stories you tell so you wouldn’t get self conscious and go all quiet on him. He’s grown used to your shyness and knows how to bring you out of your shell.

💗 every time you want something he makes you use your words.

“rafey?” You say while pointing to his hand.

He looks down and sighs lovingly.

“Hm? Use your words baby.”

You whine lightly, “can I hold your hand?” You whisper, as if you were telling him some deep secret.

He chuckles softly and smiles, “of course, baby.”

💞 not proof read so sorry for any mistakes!!

#fanfic #fypツ #tumblr fyp #fyp #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #drabble #headcanon

[kalims]

scribbles

"( – ⌓ – ) ⎯⎯ he lets you draw on his skin, yeah thats pretty much it.

ft. malleus, vil

malleus

it was... a breach of your patience.

the lesson, was awfully boring. the more you listened to the apparent 'heroic' doings of certain individuals. the more it strips away your attentiveness to the words spilling out of professor trein's mouth. no matter how many times you will your ears to make out the incoherent lecturing of the man... it remains deaf.

so you decide to sate said boredom.

how? of course you need to bother your seatmate!

your intentions remained within the circle of yourself of course. your eyes stuck to the stray marker over your paper so you silently twisted the cap off and scribbled on your paper—then it was your palm—and now, malleus' arm.

"child of...?" man. malleus finishes in his mind, his attention suddenly snapped away at the sudden tug of his arm. definitely not his own decision to even make it move in the first place. usually it would remain stiffly beside his body like usual and even if someone tried to pry it to them it would remain still. but without his attention, his body lets you.

without another word. you peel open his fingers, palm open to you and it's a notion he allows. and he stays silent when you tug his gloves off. perhaps with a curious huff, malleus drifts closer to you. to accommodate your actions that he's yet to get an explanation for.

... and suddenly there's very bright flowers drawn on his palm.

said owner of the palm might just be toe darkest person in the room so it's quite out of place.

but it's from you so he likes it.

he peeks at it, with a fond smile on his face. I should enchant it to remain there forever. he thinks to himself, the curve of his lips growing wider at his thoughts, like he'd proud of the idea. the idea of being able to carry around something made exclusively by you might as well shove him into a cannonball and send him to cloud nine.

it's adorable. you're adorable.

his world grows a little more blue the more he stares at you. and if it weren't for the searing glances the professor sends your way malleus would just let his eyes engrave you into his memory forever, so he laments over it and reluctantly peels his gaze off you. mind speaking a thousand memories, the very same reason he somehow can't hear anything trein says.

you draw a strange looking lizard beneath his ring finger, one that looks a little like him and he thinks that you're asking him for marriage.

that can be arranged... he ponders, oblivious.

vil

drawings, doodles, painting— art. a reflection of the soul.

vil is great at makeup.

every brush on your face, a step to beauty. that is his reflection. you are his soul. he wants to make you look—no, make you feel like you're beautiful cause the canvas he's standing in front of is his greatest piece of art, he'd want to put you on the tallest pedestal there is. the grandest one just so the rest knows your beauty is parallel to none, something they can see and admire but not reach.

but he also wants to keep you in his own room, because only he knows what he felt when he painted you. only he should be the one given the grace.

this... he doesn't know what to consider.

perhaps vil should be bothered, if not then a little peeved at the several colors across his skin. a myriad of doodles, some words, and some simple drawings. a poor portrait of him is drawn next to one he assumes yours, the 'fairest' word on the right side of his hand, and flowers.

he's sure though. you're definitely no artist.

the thought cracks a smile at him, and you steal a glance midst the cool tip of the pen dancing along his skin. "I'd thought you wouldn't even let me do this," you admit, chair having been moved over closer to him so you wouldn't have any leaning problems. a suggestion by vil you gratefully took up, though you doubt it was just another excuse to have you closer.

"why?"

"dunno," you shrug. "it looks unseemly compared to you."

he huffs, flashing you a light smirk. "so my face is, hmmm..." vil ponders for a moment, and your face twists to the realization that you possibly just exposed what you think. but you suppose it isn't really a problem since it was basically common sense that vil is...

"gorgeous." you finish for him.

his aura brightens. (probably will be for the rest of the week.)

your hand retracts from him, the marker gripped between your fingers. and he takes a look at your 'art.' he doesn't know if he should consider it as one since there are a heap of sloppy lines, and the color bleeds into his skin. some smudges that you accidentally brushed against that makes it seem like a messy picture of chaos.

vil strives for perfection, but it's only natural there are flaws. to love oneself, you must love all parts. and to love you, he loves whatever the ink on his skin is.

well, what the heck.

"pass it to me," he stretches his hand, and you quirk a brow. questioning but curious so he indulges you. "I'll show you how it's done."

note. ngl idk what I wrote for vil it's currently 12 AM rn ☠ <- newer note, this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks and I couldn't decide whether to post it cause I wasn't sure about vil's but here hehehe

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst fluff #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #x gn reader

[luvrxbunny]

little spider

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Innocence

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader knows nothing about sex or feelings of arousal, clothed clit-rubbing? cum in pants, small feelings of embarrassment (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: sorry im late but im kinda proud of this one so i hope it was worth the wait! <3

Miguel didn’t think he’d end up in this position, nowhere in his wildest, most perverted fantasies did he think that this would actually be the outcome of him recruiting you but… here we are. 

You were assigned by the higher-ups to learn from him, they thought you had potential, and honestly? Miguel hated you when he met you, he felt like they were punishing him for something, that assigning him this raw recruit was just a flaunt of power. You didn't even have a suit he had to make you one, a trial suit first, to make sure all your vitals were good, to track your movements and decide what suit material would be best- or if you would have a digital one like him. 

During the weeks of his monitoring of your vitals, he began to grow a bit fond of you. You were an adorable recruit and eager to please, you were thoughtful and always gave your all, something he really appreciates. One other thing he noticed about you… your dopamine levels were elevated around him, along with your estradiol and testosterone. He ignores it when he’s writing his reports, he tells himself that he doesn’t report it because the higher-ups don't need to know, not because he knows they’d make you transfer… He should’ve requested it the first time he noticed it but the thought of you, his sweet, innocent spider, all turned on just from being around him? It ignited something in him. 

He updated your suit, saying that the data he was receiving wasn't enough, he made you wear the suit as he replaced the chip and tried to hide the smile in his voice when your spine straightened under his touch. The new chip could give him real-time tracking of all your vitals, but he set his watch to alert him anytime certain hormones spiked… estradiol and testosterone. So he conducted a little experiment over the following weeks, he’d lean into you more when you speak, holding your eye contact, he even broke out the smirk he used to use on girls when he was younger, and it worked on you. 

His watch vibrated every time he was near you, if he walked up to you, it started being an alert to when you were near, it’d go off before you’ve even approached him, he’d walk into a room and it’d go off before he even saw you. It started to have an effect on him, he started to feel a spark in his stomach every time it went off, every time he’d meet your eyes and you’d have that expression he’d grown to know so well. That weak, almost pleading- yet confused look in your eyes and the sheer panic before tearing them away from his. He started having to grip whatever was in his hands as tightly as he could to control himself when you’re breathing would stutter after he complimented you on your work. 

He started getting hard reviewing your logs after spending the day with you, watching your heart rate stay elevated, spiking along with your hormones, he can see your breathing pattern, and how irregular it is compared to when you’re not with him. How high your body temperature was… the main areas of heat. On his more weak days, he’s gotten himself off to the diagram of you, with the burning red spot between your legs as the focus of his fantasies. 

Now you’re here, avoiding his gaze as his watch vibrates like crazy. “Miguel?” He looks at you again, trying to keep his gaze neutral, hopefully, to make this a bit easier on you… and him. “Yes?” 

His voice is smooth as cocoa butter and you can feel his gaze burning into you. He started this heat inside you, one you’d never encountered before. It starts when you see him in the morning and doesn’t stop until you struggle to sleep- or at least it used to. But recently it’s been non-stop, a constant distraction that you can’t pinpoint, it feels like it’s in your hips, stomach, chest, and thighs all at once. It feels like it’s in his breath when it fans over your face, it's in his eyes when they lock with yours, and somehow on his fingertips when they brush over any part of you. You’ve spent hours a night trying to figure out what you can do about it, you’ve thought about even asking Lyla but decided the risk of her telling Miguel was far too great.  

This past week it’s just been building on it’s self, almost unbearable with Miguel’s new immersive training. He takes you away to some deserted, closed-off place and trains you with no distractions, giving you nothing to focus on other than him and forcing him to give all his attention to you. Miguel’s attention, his gaze is what causes the most… pain. That’s what it’s become, a dull, numb, thrumming at the base of your stomach, like an itch you can’t scratch that just becomes a nuisance. You couldn’t handle it anymore and if you asked Lyla she’d just tell Miguel- so why not just ask him directly? 

So here you are, avoiding his gaze because you’ve spent the entire day with him, building enough fire inside you- you don’t need to add any more. “I think…” You take a breath and turn to him a bit before forcing the words out. “There’s something wrong with me.” He puts his clipboard down, his concern, and his thick, veiny hand that comes into view piles onto the heat over-taking your bloodstream. He takes his glasses off and sits back in his chair, reaching his leg out to pull a chair beside you closer to him. You dare a glance at him and try not to collapse at his gaze, at the way his hair moves over his face for a moment as he motions for you to sit in the provided chair.

You sigh and sit down, your legs pressed tightly together, your palms resting on your thighs and your eyes focused on the back of your hands. You stay silent, your mind racing, your body warming further at the feeling of his eyes on you. “What’s wrong, little spider?” You suppress a shiver at the nickname as goosebumps rise over your skin, it’s been a problem since he picked it. “I’m hot.” The words shoot out of your mouth before you can second-guess them again. Miguel chuckles a bit, sending embarrassment through your body, sits back in his chair, and crosses his arms, prompting you to go on. 

“I can’t fix it. There’s… someone.” Miguel pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to him. “For some reason, something about them just- “ You pause for a moment, truly baffled by the way you feel, trying to find some way to explain it. “They just do something to me and it won’t stop.” Your words start to sound frantic, a bit panicked. Miguel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to examine your expression. “It’s like there's a low- like a low vibration- or a frequency? Like the ones that are so low you can barely hear but you can sorta feel them? It’s like that but- but deep inside me.”

Your eyes close and eyebrows furrow as you describe the feeling to him. He tries to keep his breathing even as he hardens uncontrollably under the suit. You don’t even realize what you’re confessing to him. “Like it’s in my bones, Miguel.” You add emphasis, your hands digging into the material of your suit before raising your head to meet his eyes, hoping he understands the state you’re in. He’s almost dizzy at the way his blood rushes to his cock. He holds your gaze and tries to convey a baffled, thoughtful expression as he tries to calm himself. 

“That’s- That’s odd. Yeah, um.” He takes a few deep breaths before sitting back again, unable to stay in your space any longer. “Do- Can you tell me who’s causing it? Perhaps it’s a side effect of their powers?” Your spine straightens and you shake your head at him gently. You twist your fingers in the fabric of your suit and your feet play with each other on the lab floor. “H-have you heard of any powers like that?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes. 

Clever girl.

“No, I haven't.” He sits back, spreads his legs, and runs his hands down his thighs and back with a sigh. He holds back a smirk when his watch vibrates and he hears you take a sharp breath. “I- I don’t know what to do anymore. It- I can barely sleep.” You sound distraught, broken, and tired. He’d be the messed up one if he didn't help you… Right?

“I mean… I can try running some tests?” He offers, he keeps his tone light, trying to keep his dark desires off your radar. You perk up at his offer, already up and out of your seat, standing in front of him with a smile. He keeps his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way your scent is assaulting his nose, giving away how badly you need him. “You think we could?”

He nods and stands up, walking over to his lab table and clearing a few things. His head is already running wild with fantasies, ideas of what he could do to you, what he could teach you, how good he could make you feel. “Yeah, of course. C’mere, pequeña araña” You were already walking to him but your pace stutters and his watch vibrates when the nickname slips out. He truly didn’t mean to, he had gotten a bit too deep in his fantasies, and when your voice broke through he didn’t get fully pulled out. He’s never called you that in Spanish, not to your face at least, it’s fallen from his lips a few times before though, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his cock. But your reaction dissuades any fear that had shot through him before and he can’t help the smirk that makes its way on his face. 

You’re standing silently beside him, wringing your hands together and he doesn’t think you even notice the way your thighs keep clenching together. “Get on the table.” His tone is teasing, a grin on his face as you jump and scramble onto the tabletop. You lay on your back and look over at Miguel, feeling that heat rage through you at the look on his face. It’s dark and- wanting. It’s confusing. 

He takes a deep breath and your fingers try to dig into the metal table top as he walks to you. “Okay. I’m going to examine your body a bit, press into some muscles, some pressure points to see if maybe it’s a physical trigger. Is that okay with you?” Your chest is already rising and falling more rapidly at the thought, the promise of Miguel’s hands on you. You nod at him stiffly, trying to stay normal and calm as he holds your eye contact, nodding along with you. A small smile graces his face before he walks around and presses his palm into your hairline, pushing your head down to rest on the table as he stands north of you. 

His hands press into your shoulders and your eyes shut tight. He can feel all your muscles tense and his watch vibrates, he sneaks a peak at his and sees the huge spike in almost all your vitals. His cock twitches in his suit at your obvious need but he brushes it aside, if he rushes into this he might scare you off and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that happens. He may lose his mind. He moves his hands to your biceps, massaging them tightly as little whines slip into your breaths, only audible to his ears. 

He walks back to the side of the tables and your eyes stay shut. He massages the softness of your sides and his breathing kicks up a bit once he gets to your hips. He takes his time with them, admiring the way you fit into his hands and how you subconsciously tilt them toward him. His thighs jump as his cock begins to leak, dripping precum down them. He takes a deep, shaky breath and forces himself to move on. He forced himself to move on, he was trying to take it slow, hopefully, you’d realize where you need him and ask for it. But your thighs spread open when he massages the outside and his hands dive for the inner before he can think it through. 

You gasp, you sit up with your eyes wide and your hands gripping his wrists. You don’t do anything though, he expects you to pull his hands away but it feels more like you’re holding him there, stopping- or attempting to stop him from pulling away. So of course he doesn't. He stares into your eyes as you search his, trying to figure out if he realizes the way that made you feel, if your cover was blown, if he wants to stop but he looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something. So you loosen your grip. “That’s- I think that’s- ” You’re nodding at him lightly, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say because for some reason your brain has stopped working. 

“Yeah?” Your heart stutters at his tone and the tilt of his head as he says it. Your thighs tense around his hand for a moment before you try to calm down, un-tense them but they can’t help the way they tremble with anticipation. You’re nodding at him more frantically and his eyelids flutter. “Okay.” He takes one hand out from between your thighs and rests it on your lower back as his other hand keeps massaging, slowly moving up your inner thigh and the sensations grow more intense the higher he gets. 

Your eyes shut and your hands grip his wrists again, not pulling away, just holding him. Your eyes shut and your hips tilt into his hand, getting him so close to your pussy that he can feel the heat radiating off of her. You feel some sort of shame twinge in your belly, dampening the more intense feelings that Miguel was causing. What if this was wrong? What if you aren’t supposed to feel like this with him, without him knowing… Maybe you should stop. 

Miguel moves further up and all those thoughts scatter from your head immediately. His watch vibrates again and a noise shoots out of your mouth- one you’ve never heard before as your body folds over and your head rests on his shoulder. You shut your eyes tight and take a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry, I-” He cuts you off. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, right?” He’s nodding at you, comforting and reassuring as his hand leaves your back to cradle your head. “You’re okay. I wanna help you, cariño.” Another noise leaves you at the nickname and his hand grips into your hair for a moment before sliding down to your neck and pulls your head away from his shoulder. He pushes your head against his for a moment, letting out a soft groan before letting go and pushing his fingers against your plush lips. 

“How’s that, honey?” His hand settles back on your lower back as you whine and your hands move up his arm, gripping his biceps now and pulling yourself closer to him. “Miguel.” His eyes roll back at how you sound, desperate, breathless, and gone. Your hips are grinding into his fingers and they aren’t even on your clit yet. They’re pressing against your hole through your lips and your suit, he’s keeping his fingertips flat against you so he doesn’t slip inside. 

He’s trying to ignore the mess he’s making in his pants, watching your tense face change into a relieved one, your eyebrows pulling inward as your lips part beautifully, releasing a shaky moan as he reangles his fingers to your clit. His hands are shaking as he tries to calm himself down, one of your hands slides up his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him down, closer to your face. His eyes are fixed on your expression, taking everything in, every twitch and quiver, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips before a whimper punches out of you. 

You’re ruining him and you’re none the wiser. Your hand slides up to his neck and you push your forehead against his, like he did earlier. His eyes roll back before he forces them to you again, moving his fingers over you clit faster when your thighs begin to shake around his wrist. “I think-” Your voice comes out as a whimper and he groans into you. Your fingers grip into his hair and his cock cries against him. “Something… Miguel.” 

The way you say his name fucks with him. It’s prettier than he ever could’ve imagined, he has to lean forward and press his throbbing cock against the edge of the table for relief. You’ve got him feeling like he could die, like he could implode if he doesn’t have you, if after this you realize what you need but get it somewhere else? It’ll be over for him. Your hand readjusts its grip in his hair, becoming more frantic as your spine straightens and your thighs close on his hands. “Miguel? I-” You cut yourself off with a moan and your head falls to his shoulder again, blocking your face from his view.

“No, no.” He brings his hand to the back of your neck again. “Let me see, amor.” He pulls you away from his shoulder and you moan at the nickname. Once again, it didn’t mean to slip out but you’ve got his head so cloudy he can’t help it. You’re moaning his name on repeat, like a warning and he’s pulsing at the thought, the promise of getting to see you cum, for him. His eyes can’t look away from you, he can’t see anything but your face, the way your brows furrow as you tense, and your nails dig into his arms, leaving reminders for later. He watches how you bite your lip before your jaw drops into an ‘O’ shape and his name falls from your lips one more time as a debauched cry. 

He keeps his eyes open, watching you cum for him, how your lips form around his name again and again. He wants to collapse, fall to his knees with how much you’re turning him on but he needs to watch you. He forces himself to keep his eyes on you, ignoring the way they want to roll back at how he’s flooding his pants. His hips twitch against the edge of the table as he cums for you, with you. His mind zeros into the way he can feel your clit pulsing underneath his finger tips, how breathless you sound, trying to keep up with the noises he’s forcing from you. His stomach tenses painfully as his cock unloads more cum onto himself. You sound like an angel, crying out for him. He can’t help the way he dives for you, pulling you in to kiss him and swallowing every moan you’ll give him. 

You whine into his mouth as his fingers slow down over your clit, your other hand meets the first in his hair and you keep his lips on yours. He keeps kissing you until you calm down and your breathing evens out. His hand comes from between your thighs and rubs your legs until you pull back from his lips. You have a bashful, embarrassed look on your face and it brings the largest smile that you’ve ever seen to his face. “Was that okay, pequeña araña?” You whine and pull him in for a hug, nodding into his shoulder as he chuckles and wraps his arms around you as you begin to giggle against him.      

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miggy o’hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara spider man #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara #2099 #sm 2099 #miguel 2099 #marvel 2099 #miguel o hara #astv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel x you #atsv #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #kinktober smut

[valkyriexo]

They confess in your sleep | OT8

ᑉ³pairing; Bestfriend!OT8 x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff, Headcannon

ᑉ³warnings; none

Chan ╰┈➤ Watching a movie together.

"You drifted off, huh? The movie must've been too boring for you. " Chan says quietly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender against your skin. "Or must've been a tiring day." With careful movements, he shifts beneath you, ensuring your weight settles comfortably against him.

He remains quiet for a moment, simply watching you with a fond smile before speaking again. "You look so peaceful when you're asleep." His voice is barely above a whisper, filled with warmth and affection. "I can't help but smile seeing you like this." Chan says his heart swelling with adoration.

Slowly, he reaches for the blanket, delicately draping it over you, taking care not to disturb your peaceful slumber with any sudden movements.

"Maybe I should start picking boring movies on purpose, huh?" He teases lightly, his laughter soft and genuine. He lowers the volume of the movie, not wanting to disturb your peaceful sleep. "Your snores are kind of cute, not gonna lie." He takes a deep breath as he listens to the rhythmic sound of your breathing. "I'll resist the urge to play with your hair... for now."

As the movie continues to play in the background, Chan shifts slightly, adjusting his position until he's resting his head gently on top of yours, his heart beating in sync with yours. "I can't imagine my life without you in it, and I don't want to...I hope you're having sweet dreams."

Minho ╰┈➤ In a waiting area

"Someone's tired." Minho's voice is soft, filled with a gentle warmth as he observes you dozing off in the waiting room beside him. "Makes sense. We've been here a while," He mutters softly.

Without hesitation, he reaches out to adjust the position of the chair, making sure it's more conducive to your rest. "Waiting doesn't seem so bad when I have you beside me." He smiles slightly.

"Should I wake you or let you sleep a little longer?" His concern for your well-being shines through his actions, his priority being your comfort above all else. "They haven't called your name yet."

"Is my shoulder comfortable? I hope it's not too stiff," he asks, a faint blush coloring his cheeks at the intimacy of the moment.

"I mean, I don't want you to think I'm all... rigid or nervous or whatever," he adds quickly, his nervousness peeking through despite his attempts to appear calm.

"It's just, I care, you know? And I want you to be comfy," he admits, his gaze softening as he looks at you, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable.

"So, uh, if it's not comfy, maybe I can adjust or something?" He pauses, almost as if waiting for your response. "I promise, I'm softer than I look... or seem."

Changbin ╰┈➤ Warming up by the fireplace

"Looks like the fire's doing its job. You're out like a light," Changbin observes with a soft chuckle, his gaze lingering on your peaceful form as you sleep by the fireplace, your cheeks flushed from the warmth.

"I'll keep the flames going, don't worry," he assures softly, gently tending to the fire to ensure it continues to crackle and glow, casting a cozy ambiance over the room.

"Your weight against me feels... nice," He admits with a fond smile, your presence soothing against the cold of the winter night. "You're like a little furnace, warming me up too. It feels so good against the chill," he adds, his arms wrapping protectively around you.

"I'll just stay here, holding you close," Changbin murmurs softly, his heartbeat syncing with yours as he listens to the steady rhythm of your breathing.

"Your soft breaths against my chest... it's comforting," he confesses with a gentle smile, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now."

"Sweet dreams, my dear," he murmurs softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before settling back against the cushions, content to bask in the quiet serenity of the moment, with you by his side.

Hyunjin ╰┈➤ Reading together

"I didn't know you were reading '101 Ways to Fall Asleep' — Book must be a bestseller," Hyunjin remarks with a soft chuckle, gently teasing as he notices you dozing off beside him, the book still open in your hands.

"You look adorable when you're asleep," he murmurs fondly, a warm smile spreading across his lips as he watches you, the peaceful expression on your face filling him with a sense of contentment.

"I'll keep the pages turning while you rest," Hyunjin promises softly, his fingers trailing over the text of the book as he continues to read, his attention divided between the pages and the sight of you beside him, lost in slumber.

His voice hitches slightly as he hears your shallow breaths.

"Your soft breaths against my neck... who needs an audiobook?" he muses quietly, the sound of your steady breathing creating a soothing backdrop.

As Hyunjin turns another page, he can't help but steal glances at you, admiring the way your features soften in sleep.

"I've realized something," he continues, his gaze softening as he looks at you with affection. "I don't just enjoy spending time with you. I... I think I've fallen for you."

The admission hangs in the air, filled with both vulnerability and hope. "I know it's probably not the best time to say this," he adds, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. "But I couldn't keep it in any longer. I just needed you to know."

Han ╰┈➤ At the beach

Han settles in beside you, glancing around at the bright sun overhead and then back at you, considering. "Hey," he murmurs, leaning closer, "do you want me to apply sunscreen for you?" he asks softly, his concern evident in his voice. "I wouldn't want you to get sunburned."

But you don't reply, and Han realizes with a gentle smile that you're asleep. "Are you napping?" he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "I can't blame you; the sun, the sand, it's all so soothing."

After a while, he speaks again, his tone soft and affectionate. "You know what's soothing to me? Your laugh," he murmurs, his gaze lingering on your peaceful expression.

"Just know I'm here, watching over you as you rest, waiting for those beautiful eyes to open again," he whispers, his words a tender reassurance of his presence and care for you. He settles back against the warm sand.

He takes a deep breath, gathering his courage as he continues. "I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that I want to spend it with you," he says earnestly, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're everything to me, and I hope one day you feel the same."

Felix ╰┈➤ Cuddling

"You fell asleep in my arms, and I couldn't bear to wake you," Felix whispers softly, his voice barely above a breath as he gazes down at you, nestled against him in peaceful slumber.

"It's just you and me now," he continues, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "and you're snuggled up so peacefully." With gentle care, he adjusts his position to ensure you're comfortable, his touch light as a feather against your skin.

"I'm holding you close," Felix murmurs, his arms wrapped protectively around you, "feeling the rise and fall of your chest with each breath." He savors the quiet intimacy of the moment, cherishing the warmth of your presence in his arms.

"I hope you're dreaming of something beautiful," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "And when you wake up, I'll be right here, ready to hold you even tighter." With a tender smile, Felix closes his eyes, content to remain in this embrace with you, the gentle rhythm of your breathing lulling him into a peaceful state of serenity.

Seungmin ╰┈➤ Car ride

Seungmin sits beside you in the backseat, his gaze soft as he watches you drift off into sleep. "Long day, huh?" he remarks softly, his voice carrying a gentle warmth as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face.

"The ride home is pretty quiet without you chatting away," he continues, a faint smile gracing his lips. "I hope you're dreaming of something nice."

He leans his head back against the seat, feeling a sense of calm wash over him in your presence. "I miss hearing your voice already," he admits quietly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on the fabric of his pants.

"Would a kiss wake you up, sleeping beauty?" Seungmin teases softly, a playful glint in his eyes as he considers the idea. He leans in closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before settling back into his seat.

"I'll be sure the radio is low so we don't wake you," he murmurs.

"Just got home," Seungmin says as the car pulls into the driveway, his voice tinged with affection. "I'll carry you inside," he offers, a warm smile spreading across his face as he prepares to lift you gently into his arms, eager to keep you safe and comfortable even in your slumber.

Jeongin ╰┈➤ Studying for an exam

Jeongin glances over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he sees you dozing off amidst a pile of textbooks. "Hey, sleepyhead," he murmurs affectionately, reaching over to gently nudge your shoulder.

"Looks like those textbooks finally got the best of you," he adds with a chuckle, his tone warm and teasing. "I don't blame you, though. Studying can be exhausting."

He watches you sleep for a moment, the lines of fatigue smoothing out from your face in the embrace of slumber. "It's actually kinda cute, watching you sleep like that," he admits, a fondness evident in his gaze. "But don't make it a habit, okay? We've got exams to ace!"

Jeongin's smile grows softer as he continues to watch you sleep, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of you. "You know," he begins, his voice quieter now, filled with a sincerity that matches the affection in his eyes, "I don't think I ever told you just how much you mean to me."

"You're not just my study buddy," he confesses softly, his gaze never leaving your peaceful form. "You're my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime."

"And... well, if I'm being completely honest," he admits, a slight blush coloring his cheeks, "you're also the person I've been hopelessly in love with for longer than I care to admit."

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

#stray kids smau #stray kids texts #skz smau #skz texts #han texts #jisung texts #jisung smau #jisung x reader #han jisung texts #felix smau #hyunjin smau #hyunjin texts #felix texts #stray kids #straykids x you #stray kids ff #straykids angst #skz imagines #straykids fluff #skz #straykids smau #skz x reader #bang chan #lee felix #lee know #minho #changbin #jeongin #seungmin #hyunjin

[vagabond-umlaut]

you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry

only the sun has come this close, only the sun

gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^

fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

you are clingy.

always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.

yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—

and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.

just how he likes it.

very much how he adores you.

affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.

he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.

he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—

"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.

your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.

gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.

he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.

"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"

another beat passes.

and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.

"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"

the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—

not that he really minds that, though.

for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.

it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.

his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.

thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"

"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!

he pinches your cheek lightly.

"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.

the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—

"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.

"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."

it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.

he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—

the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.

he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—

but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.

just like you and him.

contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.

he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.

stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.

"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"

"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.

"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"

gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.

but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.

he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.

the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"

"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"

your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.

you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.

"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"

"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—

but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"

"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.

and his insides begin to twist—

one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.

you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"

"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"

you're not okay.

you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—

you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.

you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.

feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.

brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.

"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"

"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??

sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.

and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??

"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.

but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.

"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"

and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—

not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.

and will always stay yours—

"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"

gojo pauses.

and wonders.

is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?

he hopes there is.

your husband really, seriously hopes there is—

'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.

this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰

and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

[luvth0t]

SLUT! ━ C.L

based off ‘slut!’ by taylor swift

or

in which you work in a man’s world, and loving your competitor is a lot more damning for you than charles.

warnings; smut, driver!reader, themes of sexism and misogyny and touches on inequality, angst, lotta tension tbh, she’s kinda long, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, degradation like once, public sex, jealousy and maybe a bad friend reader if u squint, haas suck, manifested monaco win for charles :p

lovelorn and nobody knows

love thorns all over this rose,

i’ll pay the price, you won’t

you’d overcome enough challenges in your life.

you’d constantly proven everyone wrong, do what those said you can’t ━ every step and move you made was met with criticism instead of praise. doubt instead of belief.

you found a way. you broke the records, created your own more so. first modern day female f1 driver, and you didn’t intend to be the last.

haas wasn’t where you wanted to be, and while most expected you to be happy with just having a seat; that’s not why you were here. you didn’t fall in love with the sport to just become a driver.

you wanted to win. podiums, wins, championships. like the other 19 drivers ━ you all wanted the same thing.

for some reason you were the only one who got laughed at when speaking on such wants.

but you got used to the laughter, to the unamused or unimpressed journalists ━ this was a man’s world.

that didn’t scare you as a 14 year old girl, and it wouldn’t scare you now.

all these challenges and obstacles that you overcame, all the doubt and hate you shook off; yet there was a certain something you just couldn’t shake.

certain someone more so.

it killed you inside that a man of all things could cause you so much grief, so much internal conflict.

for some reason when it came to charles, you just couldn’t resist. putting your career first, which you’d done all your life, suddenly became difficult.

you didn’t show it, you also weren’t too hard on yourself. it was unfair to be in this position in the first place. to have to be so aware of your relation to the driver, any other drivers of that matter, was a circumstance only you found yourself in.

friendships and banters amongst any other pairings on the grid was adored; snatched up by social media and cameras.

your friendships caused headlines and unwanted press apparently.

it was something you picked up on quickly, the obsession of romance and the assumption that you wanted to sleep with every damn man you raced alongside.

you laughed at it, spoke down on such thing; then didn’t give it any of your time.

until suddenly the rumours were true; charles leclerc had somehow weaselled his way past every barrier and wall you put up.

it wasn’t something you accepted quickly. and once you caught wind of your stupid little heart and it’s fondness of the monegasque you were quick to try put the friendship and it’s entirety six feet under.

this worked, for a few months.

charles had been confused ━ under the assumption you two were at the bare minimum friends. as good as friends as two drivers could get at least. then suddenly you avoided him as if he was carrying the plague.

he couldn’t question it however; it’d be pathetic. to ask you why you refused to meet his eyes in press conferences and drivers briefings anymore.

why you avoided whatever side of the drivers parade truck he was on. why you couldn’t spare him more than a ‘hello’ in passing these days.

he interacted less with other drivers, and didn’t question them. so he couldn’t question you.

las vegas however, was your downfall.

drinking was unavoidable ━ daniel had made you promise to go out with him the moment you congratulated him on his return; and if it hadn’t been him, you knew someone would’ve of.

with daniel, there was max. that was fine; you got on well with max.

then there were talks lando would make it out, despite having gone to hospital; you knew a couple other drivers would also be in the same club you were. an entry fee so high, everyone around you was oozing importance and wealth.

it shouldn’t have surprised you when suddenly charles appeared at an already drunk daniel’s side; loud laughter and murmurs of a prior vegas trip giving you enough time to down your drink in preparation to be in his presence.

you couldn’t run, not when stood in a group of four; silver slip dress doing little to allow you to blend in with the crowd around you.

you felt his gaze on you before your eyes met his, almost as if it was causing heat on your skin ━ demanding you to look at him.

his eyes had met yours with a slight twinkle, slightly hooded and telling you that he too had enough alcohol running in his veins; and the lazy smile he flashed you had your own lips curving upwards with little resistance.

it was embarassing the way your cheeks went a tint of pink as you watched him weave around daniel who was now speaking to max, too engrossed in a story to care about the way charles moved him out of the way, to stand next to you.

immediately you were aware of his hand finding the small of your back as your body became aware of the closeness of him, breath getting caught in your throat as he leant down towards your ear.

“you look incredible,” the compliment was genuine; the smile accompanying his words rendering you unable to find room to complain.

suddenly it was too hot in here. you’d like to blame the alcohol, or the stuffy club. but the man to your left was the only reason you suddenly craved fresh air.

“thank you,” you hummed, not creating distance between the pair of you despite the idea crossing your mind. he was too close, you should step away. but his cologne smelt incredible. and his hand was still lingering on your back lightly.

his smile only grew at your response, having expected you to wiggle away and disappear into the crowd.

the conversation was harmless, it always had been; but speaking with charles was just a reminder that he was one of the good ones.

he’d only ever been kind to you; kind to everyone. one of the first to speak with you like any other driver, speak about racing and your careers without undermining you.

the more time you spent with him the more clear it became that he was flawless. and oh so tempting.

maybe you would’ve ended the conversation when daniel gave you an out, interrupting the pair of you. but it was with shots on a tray next to him.

three shots later and the four of you were all cringing, scrambling to find chasers; charles offering you a lime that you quickly took ━ managing to squirt lime juice everywhere but your mouth.

it had the pair of you erupting into giggles, your hands quickly landing on his shirt which was now speckled in droplets.

“i’m so sorry!” you exasperated, only now becoming aware of the way you were struggling to stand up straight. using his chest to balance you momentarily.

he wasn’t doing any better, telling you it was fine through his own laughter; his hand lifting to your face ━ thumb brushing a few droplets off your cheek as he too swayed side to side.

your eyes met, both drunken and amused ━ and suddenly all rational thoughts had left your body.

“we need another.” you declared, hand grasping around his forearm; watching as his lips parted to disagree. but he couldn’t. a good time too tempting to resist right now.

max and daniel were long forgotten as you weaved through the crowd to the bar to sought after shots of your own; unable to identify the moment your hands had taken grasp of each other.

it was a fun two hours; innocent as well, flirtatious maybe but his hand didn’t stoop lower than your back ━ drinks consistently being poured; drivers, personnel, sponsors and fans rotating through. but you didn’t leave charles side.

you weren’t on edge either, not thinking about the what ifs. about tomorrow or the next week. just enjoying the moment.

time had gone incredibly quickly. you lost track of how many hours had been spent at the bar, how many drinks you’d downed.

charles too, until you were leaning further and further into his side. his intake stopped the moment he realised you were now struggling to stand straight.

the thought entered his mind to find a member of your team, haas or personal, to help you get you to your room soon.

he was drunk, there was no doubt about it. but he was attempting to sober up in your presence.

when you spilt a drink over the bar however, he took responsibility and declared your night was over.

it was a struggle, as his hands clasped around your arms and attempted to push you towards the exit ━ quickly realising he too was struggling to walk straight.

he’d managed however, getting you into the back of his drivers car not as easy with you dropping your phone. then him his wallet, resulting in drunken giggles and mumbles as you finally got buckled in and situated.

most of the car ride was filled with you rambling, charles more than happy to let you speak. he’d missed hearing from you ━ even if he could barely make sense and keep up with your story.

it wasn’t until you were stumbling in the hotel, through the underground entrance thankfully, and into the elevator that there was moments of silence.

you leaned back against the wall, watching as charles pressed the buttons. admiring more so, head titled aside as you gazed over the ferarri driver.

only then did you realise you shouldn’t be in this position. because all you wanted to do was get your hands on him. admire him up close, the distance of the elevator a rude difference to how the night had been spent.

your arms reached upwards, practically beckoning him over; and with an amused smile he easily fell into place ━ approaching you as his hand pressed against the wall beside your head, eyebrows raising upwards in curiosity as he peered down at you.

your arms wrapped around his neck naturally, neither of you phased from the new closeness and comfortability ━ your eyes flickering over his face, lingering on his lips for a few moments too long.

“i want to kiss you,” the words escaped your lips without any thought; it was as if a weight was lifted off your chest. some form of confession quite relieving.

charles hummed at your words, smirking even as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“yeah?” he teased ━ his breath fanning your face, and you nodded without any hesitation. it’s not what you wanted that had you not making any movements.

“mhm,” you sighed, head falling back; charles having not expected the huff of disappointment. you missed the way his eyebrows furrowed for a split second. if he was sober maybe he’d pick up on your internal conflict.

“kiss me then,” charles chimed, hand finding the side of your head; cupping your cheek so delicately you could only lean into the embrace.

never had you called on such will power and mental strength, fighting every instinct and nerve in your body that was practically yearning for him. begging you to put yourself out of your misery for once and rid the distance between the pair of you.

but you hadn’t come so far for nothing. you could only make so many drunken decisions.

“i can’t,” the words were painful to say, even the slight numbness that alcohol brought; you felt every sting of the sentence.

you watched the way his lips only curved upwards, he hadn’t picked up on the seriousness of your words.

“why not?” the question was teasing, his thumb caressing your cheek making it difficult to stick to your guns.

you looked at him as if he should know; because you’d hope he’d have some sort of idea. maybe if you could see straight you would’ve realised that charles reality wasn’t the same of yours.

“people will talk.” it sounded pathetic when you said it out loud, the sentence sobering you up enough to realise such thing. you weren’t one to usually care what people thought, so the way his smile faltered made sense.

charles took a few moments to process your words ━ he would’ve stepped away if it weren’t for your arms around him.

he wanted to point out that you two were in fact alone, but he knew what you meant. no secret was kept secret for long in the world of f1.

“let them.” charles attempted to dismiss, a cheesy smile to match, one that had you smiling as well. but it wasn’t the grin you’d been carrying all night. it was a sympathetic one almost.

charles was putting some pieces together now, as much as he could at least. your avoidance of him was making more sense with the words currently leaving your lips.

“wouldn’t fair well for me,” you mumbled; the disappointment clear in your tone. the annoyance at the fact there was clearly something stopping you. your mood was falling, charles noticed that easily.

and while he himself wasn’t overjoyed with how the night was concluding, he wouldn’t let it be ruined.

“it’s okay,” charles reassured quickly, his lips pressing to your forehead delicately instead ━ you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, he didn’t want you to feel as if you needed too. “let’s get you to bed.” he grinned.

the affectionate action caught you off guard, left speechless as his hand grasped yours and began to directing you out of the elevator. it only having you feeling regret and self pity for letting the moment escape your fingertips.

which only piled on you tenfold when he left your hotel room barely after making it two steps inside.

climbing into the sheets alone had never been so painful.

painful. a good word to describe the next few interactions with charles.

abu dhabi had you on edge. you didn’t know how to face him.

it was typical, finding yourself sat next to him in the drivers press conference. feeling as if every journalist in the room would take note of the exchanging glances, the way your eyes would quickly find something else if his met yours. the way you listened to him speak a little too intently.

charles however had no worries. not a thought in his mind as he shamelessly admired you, listening to every answer you gave. watching as you reacted to the words of other drivers or questions that weren’t to do with you. he couldn’t look away.

you’d avoided him all morning and yesterday; having not caught you after vegas.

charles was used to such behaviour, except now, he knew why. and your reasoning wasn’t good enough to him.

you two could be friends; it didn’t need to be one extreme or the other. so he had no shame in putting in effort to deter yours.

it was frustrating, almost as if every corner you turned he was there. all weekend, if you were not in the haas hospitality or your motor home, charles was near.

it was no coincidence, leaving the press pen at the same time; passing him after any interview, stuck next to him at the drivers briefing.

you couldn’t avoid the conversation, every moment with him was just pushing you further to the edge ━ your self control was hanging by a very thin thread and you were almost ready to cut it every time those damn green eyes linger on yours.

when you arrived at your hotel after qualifying, it was easy to spot him waiting in the lobby. an odd sight considering the lurking fans.

it made sense however, when charles beelined towards the elevator the moment you did.

you had to hold your breath as you both got inside, biting down on the inside of your cheek to not allow your own frustration bubble over.

“what are you doing?” the question was asked through gritted teeth, and the confusion that masked charles face did little to convince you he was as clueless as he looked.

the twinkle of amusement in his eye revealed enough.

“what do you mean?” the question was almost a challenge, charles peering down at you inquisitively - as if he didn’t know the answer himself.

you took a breath, shaking your head ever so slightly.

to put it simply, you were annoyed. at the world for putting you in this position, at yourself for getting to this point, and him for making it more difficult than it had to be.

“you’re stalking me.” you accused; eyes narrowing into a glare; one that intensified as his own lips curved upwards, and if you weren’t so focused on being annoyed you would’ve swooned over the dimples that lined his cheeks in doing so.

“i am not stalking you,” charles mused, laughing at the accusation as he leant against the wall behind him.

you expected more of an explanation ━ your own eyes trained ahead of you at the elevator doors that remained shut. looking at him was too risky.

“you are. you’re everywhere.” you huffed; not pleased with how clear the frustration was in your tone.

charles wasn’t phased, not in the slightest ━ the grin hadn’t left his face; almost as if any conversation with you was more than enough. even if you were huffing and puffing.

he wasn’t sure how the infatuation had spiralled so quickly; maybe he just wanted what he couldn’t have. the man wasn’t too use to rejection, and last week definitely stumped him.

or maybe he just refused to let you run away from what you clearly both see. feel. there was a connection here, he was sure of it.

“are we not friends?” charles question had you drawing a deep breath, suddenly aware of how slow these elevators were. and recognising the first flaw with being blessed with a penthouse room.

“of course we’re friends.” you rolled your eyes, speaking with such certainty as if you needed to remind yourself. friends.

you two were friends at most, that’s all you’d allow the pair of you to be.

“then you shouldn’t actively avoid me.” charles hummed, no shame in calling out your obvious behaviour that he’d let go on for too long.

it was humorous, the way your jaw dropped in offence at the accusation you knew was true.

“i do not.” your voice went up an octave, not even you could believe your own lie ━ nor try to sell it, avoiding his eye now as your leg began to bounce impatiently. it was becoming suffocating, in an enclosed space with him.

“you do.” charles mocked your voice ever so slightly, but the smile that went along with it left you no room to complain as you glanced over at him; your own lips curving upwards for a mere second.

you had nothing to say. to you it was clear, he knew where you stood. but you weren’t budging. it’s not like you wanted to deprive yourself of him; but you refused to sacrifice your career for a man. call it paranoia; but you don’t want to find out the consequences of adding truth to rumours.

“you don’t trust yourself around me.” charles had you read, and he wanted you to know it.

you two could be, should be, able to be friends at least. the monegasque was unsure as to why he was so set on such thing; some of you, was better than none.

“don’t flatter yourself.” you mumbled, attempting to dismiss his words; he was right. hit the nail on the head actually, but you wouldn’t admit that.

“we can be friends.” charles huffed when he realised he was straying from his original intentions; he didn’t want to provoke or tempt you. just make it clear there can be a platonic relationship here. you shouldn’t be scared of that.

“we are.” you reminded, eyebrows raising as you looked up at him; finally holding eye contact with the driver for more than a few seconds.

“then stop avoiding me.” charles repeated; and he’d be ashamed of how desperate he sounded if he had any room to care. but you were more of a pressing issue.

if he hadn’t called you out on a whole range of fronts you would’ve commented on his desperation; the elevator ding beating you to it regardless as the doors slid open.

“fine. only because you care so much,” your reply was playful; attempting to sound amused and unbothered ━ maybe that would distract from the fact you were agreeing with him.

you only had another day of being around him, you could easily do a day with him. las vegas was an example of your strength and will.

but as his grin widened, dimples and all, green eyes still pouring into yours as he backed out of the elevator; you knew it was never going to be easy.

the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

everyone wants him, that was my crime

the wrong place at the right time

of course it wasn’t easy.

you’d kept true to your word, he’d called you out so you finally relented.

the only solace you found in allowing yourself to get closer to charles was the fact you were right.

every moment spent with him felt like a ticking time bomb. you were cracking, you knew it. deep down you knew it was only a matter of time until you shattered and he’d be there to pick up every piece.

at first you’d coincidentally ran into him at your favourite cafe in monaco. not the first time you’d seen him there; but the first time he signalled you to sit down.

it was harmless at first, a quick catch up. one you’d have with any other colleague you’d bump into in public during winter break.

but there was something about seeing him in such casual attire, hoodie and sweats portraying him in a new light you couldn’t help but take a liking too.

what should’ve been five minutes of small talk was two hours of conversation; two hours of mind numbing tension, pretending to not notice the way his eyes would linger on your lips every now and then. or acting oblivious to the way you laughed at every second word that left his lips.

he parted with an offer to go on a run together sometime, and you accepted with the assumption it would be an empty gesture. a plan that never gets put in place.

but then he texted you a few days later; and suddenly you were struggling to find excuses to reject the offer. struggling to find the want too.

a run wasn’t dangerous. you’d both be pre-occupied.

and you were, until you were standing there puffed; exhausted and puffed; and struggling to not grow further flustered of the sight of a sweaty charles.

muscles flexing against the tight shirt, hair messier than usual; cheeks slightly flushed.

inviting him up to your place for a drink wasn’t your intention, but your mouth was a step ahead of your brain.

uncharted territory had now been crossed. messages were swapped regularly, weekly runs together was almost routine. then hours of conversation at either your apartment or his.

if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you definitely had now. it was beyond physical attraction. and it was mutual.

it was the way you found yourself always ensuring you had the biscuits he’d practically raided the first time he was over, always in an unopened packet awaiting him.

the way he found himself buying the lime flavoured water you preferred to drink after exercising; knowing your odd quirk of not being keen on regular water.

the way he came over with your coffee order and a chocolate croissant from your shared favourite cafe when you bailed on your run, apologising to him because you’d become run down with a cold.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you’d sniffled, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

“what else are friends for,” charles had practically cheesed.

you’d like to convince yourself he was still at a safe distance, it made it easier to ignore the fact this wouldn’t last forever.

the limbo state was not ideal to neither of you, but it was much better than doing what you felt was inevitable. avoiding him again.

except that would just be much harder this time. before it was a crush; now you were swoon. you counted down the days to see him. awaited his name to appear on your phone.

there’d been close calls; moments where you thought one of you would crack.

like the time you struggled to grab a glass out of his cupboard, tippy toes and all it was out of reach.

you felt him behind you before seeing him, hand finding your hip as his other arm simply reached over you to grab a glass; quick to turn on your feet you hadn’t expected him so close.

“thanks,” you had mumbled, clearly flustered as you looked up at him ━ trapped between his frame and the counter; eyes finding his lips immediately.

silence fell over the pair of you, awaiting one of you to make a move.

you were glad charles had cleared his throat and stepped aside, returning to a safe distance ━ because you didn’t think you’d be capable of such thing in that moment.

charles questioned how he managed to do such thing, each and every time you got close to him he doubted how long he could resist being selfish.

he’d failed to realise back in abu dhabi that he neither could trust himself around you. he’d put in so much effort to prove to you that friends was possible, so naive to the fact it may be worse than before.

while he loved your company, it was a cruel reminder that you had ruled out the possibility of this going further. any dreams or fantasies of more would always stay that way; dreams. not reality.

it frustrated him beyond belief, not that he showed it. the way you gazed up at him through your pretty eyes; as if you’d do anything he asked. the way you always leant towards him when you laughed; how easily he could make you laugh.

and he couldn’t do anything about it. because he wasn’t selfish, you feared the consequences of being with him so he would not push you to face them.

deep down however, the pair of you knew it could only be a matter of time.

yet it still stung how easily it could’ve been avoided.

you weren’t meant to go out tonight, it had been a last minute and spontaneous decision; pressured by your friends who insisted, claiming you missed too many girls nights as it is. that winter break was there time to make up for all you miss while away during the season.

you got kicked out of the first bar you found yourself in, all because one of your friends picked a fight with the bartender; but that didn’t bother you in the moment.

on to the next.

it took a whole eight minutes being at the club, one you had subtlety name dropped to get yourself and your friends into, to spot charles in the crowd.

your friends eyes had found him first; your own merely following theirs in curiosity, and you were grateful that all four of you were preoccupied looking at the driver so they would fail to realise your own longing.

“i have not seen him in ages,” your friend stella spoke first; clueless to the developed friendship between the pair of you. you hadn’t really told anyone, call it trust issues.

“we should go say hi,” stella continued; looking at you all with hopefulness; eyes having lit up and appearing incredibly eager.

you couldn’t think of a worse idea. alcohol and charles almost ruined you once; and that was a few months ago. you didn’t think you had that much self control left.

“we have our own driver right here,” your friend had joked, rejecting the idea as she nudged your arm; purely because she wanted a girls night. and you laughed at the stupidity, ready to play along for your own selfish interests.

“unfortunately y/n, you’re not one stella can sleep with again,” your other friend joked through a smirk, alcohol causing word vomit, because by the way stella quickly slapped her arm told you that information she didn’t want shared.

the revelation had your face falling flat, not able to hide such thing as you pursed your lips in thought.

“you and charles?” the words escaped your lips with too much interest but you couldn’t stop yourself. suddenly needing to know more.

stella had let out an exasperated sigh.

you were grateful to know your friend beside you who rejected the idea of speaking to him was as shocked as you.

“ages ago.” stella tried to downplay, waving the idea off. although then she peered over her shoulder to look at the driver again, an innocent smile spreading across her face.

you nodded slightly, trying to muster a fake smile. you couldn’t be mad; it wouldn’t be rational to be mad. even in the slightest.

“i’m gonna go talk to him.” stella announced, and you could only swallow intently as your friend whined about it being girls night, watching as stella promised she’d be back before weaving through the crowd.

you were staring, but you didn’t care.

left to watch as stella made her presence known. watch as charles face lit up at the familiar face, embrace her quickly and introduce her to those he was stood with.

you could tell he was slightly tipsy, the way he was swaying side to side; even with his arm now draped around stella’s shoulders.

the sight made you sick. jealousy was an ugly trait but you’d never embraced it like you were now.

jealous of the fact your friend didn’t have to worry in going after what she wanted. jealous that she could quite happily cling to charles without worrying who saw.

your mood had plummeted, there was no hiding it. your friends definitely noticing but not questioning as they too glanced over at stella to note her progress.

it wasn’t until charles’ eyes found yours across the room that you looked away.

not in shame, you didn’t care that he knew you were watching; but more so to not make it clear how annoyed you were from the sight alone.

charles tensed up the moment he saw you ━ he hadn’t known you were here. and now that he did, the company he was with suddenly wasn’t good enough.

he’d picked up on your cold stare though; the way you failed to offer him your usual sweet smile.

suddenly he felt guilty, quick to remind himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

the driver distracted himself momentarily, tuning back into the conversation that was going on around him. but his mind was now elsewhere. you were consuming his thoughts now.

intentions to keep his distance were thrown out the window when he noticed you in his peripheral; standing at the bar alone.

he shouldn’t approach you; but the idea of letting you sit there and think he would rather spend his time with the blonde on his arm than you didn’t sit well with him either.

so he found himself excusing himself, heading to the bar where you stood.

you’d grabbed your drink, and the moment you turned around to head back to your seat and continue your moping, you’d spotted charles headed straight towards you.

a creature of habit; avoid him was your first thought. so you attempted to pretend to not see him, a sudden sense of urgency as you headed back to the booth your two friends were still sat at.

charles picked up on such thing however, his own urgency increasing as he managed to get ahead of you; practically cutting you off.

you’d been so desperate in your attempts to avoid him and his eyes that you collided, your drink taking the brunt of the hit as it fell to the ground; pouring ice and liquid on the floor, thankfully missing the pair of you.

you were quick to glare up at him, made to watch as he put his hands up in innocence and let out a quick and not too meaningful ‘sorry.’

you didn’t want to speak to him. he was an easy target for your current anger, so stepping around him was easy; you’d go without your drink for now, wanting to return to the safety of your booth.

but charles didn’t think that was fair.

he’d grabbed your arm before you made it two steps away; your name falling from his lips almost in warning.

“you don’t get to be mad at me.” charles huffed, it wasn’t fair. you told him that friends was the only possibility, so you had no reason to be glaring daggers and avoiding him as if he’d done something wrong.

he was right, you knew he was right. you weren’t even mad at him. but you were mad; fed up with the constant deprival you had to put yourself through, at how much you cared about what people would say ━ that you couldn’t put you and him out of your shared misery.

but unfortunately you had nothing else to aim your anger at; it was just you and charles in this position, meaning he fell into your firing line.

“i think you care too much about what i think of you.” you tried to dismiss his comment; not wanting to admit he was right, calling out his constant efforts of chasing you.

you watched as his jaw tensed, the breath he let out and his eyes drifting aside as he tried to rationalise his thoughts before he said something he’d regret.

“i didn’t know you knew stella.” charles huffed; deciding on what could be a civil approach. he didn’t need to explain himself, but that would be easier than playing into your game and letting you try create a rift between the pair of you.

you wanted to throw the words back at his face; but you stopped yourself. neither he nor stella owed you any loyalty when it came to one another; definitely not back then, so you couldn’t use it against him.

“it doesn’t matter.” you tried to sound calm, remove yourself from the animosity you held. if you could just get away from him, go home, and pretend this never happened.

“it clearly does.” charles didn’t miss a beat; it would have been easier to blindly believe you but how was that possible when you were refusing to meet his eyes and running away from him.

you shook your head, not knowing what to say because you couldn’t disagree there. he was right; like usual, surprise, surprise. truths were harder to ignore when it was coming from his mouth.

“it shouldn’t.” you spoke simply, before turning on your heel and heading towards the bathroom now; anywhere to get away. the thread was getting thinner, you didn’t trust yourself around him.

he’d debated on following you for a couple seconds, knowing what he should do. return to his friends. to stella; there was no complications there.

but yet he found himself just a few steps behind you, refusing to let you get the last word. to let you fall back into your old habits of avoiding him.

a part of you knew he was following you, or maybe that’s what you wanted to believe. your want to get away from him was just a product of self preservation, not true desire.

so you weren’t surprised to hear your name once you were about to reach the bathroom. turning around to face him with a sigh. you should’ve pretended to not hear him.

“what are you doing?” you huffed; looking at him with lost eyes because you were running out of things to say or do, unsure where to go from here.

“what do you want?” charles question caught you off guard, alongside the fact he took maybe one or two steps too many when catching up to you ━ so close and you couldn’t find the strength to create any distance.

you pursed your lips, shaking your head ever so slightly.

the lack of an answer spoke for itself, you knew what you wanted. him. but admitting such thing would be dangerous.

“you know we can’t━” you started to say, needing to remind yourself that as tempting as he was right now it wasn’t possible.

he cut you off however. charles knew what you thought; what you presumed others would think.

“i don’t care about anyone else. what do you want?” charles repeated, speaking with such intent it would’ve been intimidating if your mind wasn’t a scramble of thoughts.

he was practically begging you to spell it out for him; to face the truth of the matter. if you could look him in the eye and tell him you were happy with what you both had right now, he’d walk away.

but you were never going to do that. you could only bend so far.

you finally snapped.

connecting your lips with his was the easiest option, and the moment you did it was as if nothing else mattered. relief washing over the pair of you, as if a giant weight was suddenly lifted.

there’d been the slightest amount of hesitant in the action, but that was forgotten immediately.

it was rushed and messy at first, months worth of tension bubbling to the surface as your hands both pawed at one another eagerly; grabbing whatever you could.

having your hands on him wasn’t something you’d take for granted; gripping his shirt; moving to his biceps before wrapping around his neck.

his intentions were similar to yours, his large hands sprawling amongst the sides of your waist ━ not bothered by the way it caused your dress to bunch ever so slightly. he tugged you closer too, as if he was scared you’d leave his grasp.

he managed to back you into the bathroom without disconnecting your lips; hand only leaving your waist to fiddle blindly with the lock.

the kiss was still messy, eager and heated; gasping into his mouth when your back suddenly hit the wall. charles body enclosing you immediately, your legs suddenly feeling week as his hips pressed forward against yours.

it was not surprising that it didn’t stop their, neither of you were stopping now that the ice had been broken.

the night concluding with your hands spread on the wall ahead of you as charles pounded you from behind, dress bunched around your waist and panties pulled aside.

“gotta be quiet mon amour,” he’d whispered into your ear after your moans continued to grow in volume ━ his hand then moving to your jaw, sliding two fingers past your lips to shut you up.

you would’ve died happily in that moment, moments away from the best orgasm of your life.

no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be regretting it.

and I break down, then he's pullin' me in

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

you hadn’t seen charles since that night in monaco.

he’d left for maranello not too long after, then you spent the rest of break in america; the season approaching relatively quickly.

messages were swapped, but nothing more.

testing was hectic, you didn’t get to see him or spend time with him even if you wanted too.

you weren’t sure you wanted to however. you missed him, that had been mutually expressed over text. but both you and he were scared; unsure how to navigate what happens now.

because unfortunately the circumstances hadn’t changed, you’d just gotten a taste of one another.

by the time it was raceday at bahrain, all excitement for the start of the season had left your body.

thursday set the tone; all your hard work, months of avoidance and deprival ━ it suddenly meant nothing.

you first caught wind of such in the press conference, sat alongside max, lewis, lando, carlos and alex.

when you finally got asked a question, your breath got stuck in your throat.

“did you enjoy your winter break? a new trainer in charles it seems?”

the question was posed so innocently, you knew the tone. the cheery and amused light heartedness to mask the undertones; it was accusing. you knew it was; any girl would get it.

you knew photos were circulating of you and charles running around monaco, but that wasn’t an issue. there were photos of you and daniel out for lunch as well. ones of you and toto exchanging hello’s.

what a headline; you got along with people you worked with.

“uh yeah,” you laughed off; biting your tongue, like usual. you knew when to pick your battles. “i’m no good at padel so, stuck to running.” you hummed, left to watch as the journalist nodded almost unconvinced.

it was a sinking feeling; they knew, everyone knew. it’d somehow got out. that you’d slept together. paranoia; you had to remind yourself. they couldn’t know.

“is it difficult to have relations off track with competitors?” he was looking you dead in the eye as he posed another question to you, and it hit a nerve.

you shifted ever so slightly in your seat. you hadn’t faced these sort of questions since your rookie year, when journalists didn’t realise what they should and shouldn’t imply.

you had to hold back a scoff; biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“is that a question for all of us or just me?” you practically challenged, and the awkwardness that fell over the room only had the pit in your stomach growing.

it was as if they all knew something you didn’t.

that was all you were asked, all you could think about as you sat on the couch, itching to get out of this damn room.

but that was just the start.

entering the haas hospitality your gut feeling made sense when you were faced with the entirety of the press team awaiting you.

granted, the press team was only four people. but you only ever really dealt with your own press officer if it was without warning.

the whole conversation was a blur, you felt sick the moment it begun.

‘we need to have a meeting,’

‘there’s photos of you and leclerc,’

‘damming to your reputation. our reputation,’

‘unacceptable behaviour and a breach of contract,’

‘negotiating to not let mainstream media run with it,’

‘we’re opening our own private investigation.’

you were being spoken at, no room to reply, no ounce of sympathy. you could feel the disgust as they spoke. as if you’d actually done something wrong.

“investigation?” you repeated in confusion, bewildered as you glanced between the lot of them.

you didn’t know what to say. or do.

deny? beg them to cover it up? apologise?

you felt like that 13 year old girl again, that anything you said wouldn’t matter. keeping your mouth shut as they broke out in chatter again.

short. blunt. your own press officer not even sticking around as they the dispersed, even mentioning that gene would probably be calling later.

you felt like you were going to throw up the moment you got into the privacy of your drivers room, it only taking a few seconds to find the photos flooding your timeline.

monaco. it was undeniable. it was definitely him, definitely you, kissing.

you held back your tears, determined to not let the comments ruin you. your press teams words lingering, but you pushed them back.

the day dragged, you were on edge; one wrong move and an on pour of tears would arise to the surface. just needed to wait till you were in the privacy of your hotel room.

these people would not see you cry.

you hadn’t expected the cold shoulder from your own team. but it was your manager that was the tip of the iceberg.

you hadn’t seen him all day, a close friend you’d consider him, he’d been with you since f3.

“where have you been?” you breathed as you climbed into the car, more than relieved to be leaving the track. and hopefully every conversation that was had.

“cleaning your mess.” he’d muttered in annoyance, and you couldn’t help but shake your head as your jaw clenched.

“not you too,” it was an attempt of a joke, head resting against the window. “don’t know why people are acting like i shared the teams 3 year plan with the enemy,” you huffed.

but you were only met with silence, causing your eyes to glance to your manager who was focused on his laptop in his lap.

“i mean it jason. the way i was treated today was━” you began to speak up at his silence, anger was easier than the self pity.

“what did you expect?” his question was venomous, shutting you up quickly as you stared at him with a slack jaw. it took a few moments to process, how he was on side with them.

or more importantly, not on your side. the guy who you pay to be on your side.

“for my personal life to remain personal.” you spoke like it was obvious.

you had feared this, yes, but that didn’t mean it was right. maybe you held onto hope your lack of faith in the world was misplaced. but everyone was proving you right.

he shook his head simply, so disappointingly you had to laugh, eyes gazing back out the window as you rapidly approached the hotel.

“i thought you didn’t want to be known for this.” his comment was a throw away one, but it cut you deep. his insinuation one he knew would sting, so you didn’t hide the fact it did.

“known for what?” you spoke through gritted teeth; if he wanted to insult you he better not half ass it.

there was moment of silence, hesitance; but not long enough.

“sleeping around.” he shrugged, still typing away on his computer. “great way to halt contract talks. i mean come on y/n,” he groaned.

you weren’t sure if he was right, you’d like to think your talent would over shine paddock gossip. but if he was right, the problem should lie with teams misogyny. not your sex life.

you highly doubt ferarri will hesitate resigning charles because of the matter.

you didn’t say another word, not trusting your voice; it was too much. felt like you were being attacked from every angle. ambushed even.

you’d slammed the door the moment you got out the car, urgently getting inside the hotel; managing to find the elevator through blurry eyes, tears threatening to spill.

almost there.

the elevator ride was testing, the silence made your short breaths and sniffles hard to ignore as you tiptoed on the line of breaking.

the final straw however, was charles himself leaving his hotel room as you navigated your way to yours.

your name had never sounded so delicate coming from his lips, as if he knew that you were fragile, sympathetic eyes as he took a few steps towards you.

“don’t━” you breathed out, voice breaking on you before you could say his name. your hand raising to tell him to stay where he was.

the first tear fell, silently.

“i’m so sorry,” he breathed out; cautiously stepping forwards despite your action. it broke him, the sight of you. he’d never seen you so upset.

overjoyed, pissed off, ecstatic, confused, riled up; he’d seen it all. but never had he seen you cry.

“you’re the last person i want to see right now.” you managed to get out.

lie.

complete lie, but unfortunately once more he was an easy target. the face of today’s events and the reason for fractures in practically every professional relationship you’d formed over the years.

charles didn’t take your words to heart, watching as you fumbled to find your room key; your shaky hands had him frowning, behind you now as he grabbed your arm when you took a step inside.

“please,” charles sighed; desperate for you to let him help. let him comfort you. he felt responsible, but it wasn’t guilt that was pushing him towards you.

just the need to ensure you were okay.

he’d barely received a slap on the wrist. told by his press team to ‘be more careful next time.’ and reminded issues would arise if talks of strategy and racing came to light.

that was that. his day went on. he almost got ahead of himself, optimistic the day could end with him showing up at your door to tell you that you never had anything to worry about.

but word spread quickly in the paddock, and charles caught onto the double standards incredibly quickly with how you were being spoken about in comparison to him.

you didn’t trust your voice once more, simply shaking your head ‘no’ as you got inside, attempting to shake his grasp.

he didn’t let you however, which was almost a relief.

the door shut behind the pair of you, charles tugging you towards his chest immediately.

you had no more strength, no fight left; simply letting him do so as the tears poured.

your head met his chest, arms clinging to his shirt as his arms went around you; holding you close as he mumbled encouraging words.

he felt like a safe place, allowing you to be weak and vulnerable with no fear for the first time in a long time.

quiet sobs and sniffles escaped you as you shook in his hold. it wasn’t just a days worth of torment, no, but all the other shit you put up with from the start of your career.

charles wasn’t sure what to say, just that it’d be okay. let it out. i’ve got you.

his hand was running through your hair delicately, and you somehow register the multiple kisses he pressed to the top of your head; such subtle actions that managed to slow your heart rate.

“i’m so sorry,” charles words were whispered, it was what brought you out of your own head; teary eyed peering up at him as you shook your head.

this wasn’t his fault.

“not your fault,” you spoke through a deep breath, starting to gain your composure. still timid, but you’d gotten the tears out.

“it’s not yours either.” charles spoke in certainty, sounding pissed off. because he was. and it made your stomach flip.

it was the bare minimum, but hearing someone be in your corner was exactly what you needed. the fact it was charles was just a bonus.

“i mean it’s more my fault than yours. i didn’t leave you alone, putain, i am sorry,” he began to ramble. the guilt was eating him alive. you’d tried to avoid this ━ he couldn’t help but feel as if he threw you into the lions den.

you disagreed however. deep down, this all felt inevitable. like it was a matter of when, not if. you were so scared of this happening because apart of you knew there was no avoiding it.

“i don’t regret it.” you told him in certainty, hand moving to cup his cheek; offering a sad smile. “it’s just━ not fair.” you mumbled.

his smile mirrored yours, lacking the usual brightness it held as thumb lifted to your cheeks; brushing away the tears staining your skin.

“it’s gonna be okay. i’ll fix this.” charles promised, but it wasn’t a promise he could keep. you knew that, your head tilting aside as you sighed.

his intentions were pure, held your best interest at heart.

“m’ just gonna have to let it blow over.” you told him, taking a sharp inhale. that didn’t answer the question that lingered between the pair of you.

what this was. what you two were.

he nodded ever so slightly, frustration growing at the fact he couldn’t fix it himself. he wanted to help. to rid you both of the outside noise and judgmental opinions.

“but i think━” you’d cut yourself off, you didn’t want to say it.

he knew however, by the way your grip had tightened on his shirt. the way your eyes held sympathy and sorrow. he knew what you were going to say.

“i know,” charles sighed; nodding in reassurance.

this needed to stop. whatever this was, it couldn’t go further. not for now at least; charles knew that.

rumours won’t die down if there is still truth to them.

your bottom lip quivered slightly at the sight of the sad smile he showed you; the way he was so willing to comply.

you hated the fact you both had to suffer, all for what?

“i’ll stay away, i promise,” charles hummed; biting down on the inside of his cheek as he ran his fingers through your hair once more.

you still had no words, because it was the last thing you wanted. yet somehow was what you needed.

you’d like to say to hell with it, to tell him you didn’t care. that you could be together, and figure out the latter.

but today had been hell; you weren’t sure it was something you could get used too.

“thank you,” you whispered out; charles only response was pulling you close once more, knowing when he let you go, it would be for good.

he had to let you go.

but if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us

if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once

charles stayed true to his word.

it was obvious, the way you two steered clear of each other.

talk of you and him died down, the paddock found something else to focus on within a couple weeks; and it was just another story for the history books that would be brought up every now and then.

their was awkwardness in the team however.

their investigation closed with no findings, something you laughed at.

a motivator; to get the fuck out of there.

it paid off, comfortably beating your teammate. dragging the car into the points most weeks.

talks with mercedes was going well, progressing nicely ━ you wanted to emphasise to your manager that charles hadn’t been mentioned once from them either.

but you weren’t going to dwell on the past.

not audibly at least.

charles was a sacrifice you hated making, and it was mutual.

it was cruel, the way you were too scared to meet his eye if cameras were around. scared one wrong move and you’d be jumped on by prying eyes and gossipers.

charles too shared your fear; he didn’t want to put you in a compromising position. and while it was physically painful to cut you off completely, he managed.

none was easier than some, it seemed.

it was laughable, how the pair of you actually believed the avoidance would stick this time. that it would actually work.

couldn’t even make it to summer break, a few months apart was bound to be all you could endure.

monaco, a race you’ll never forget.

your signing with mercedes was announced on the thursday; a milestone in your career, a highlight.

you were ecstatic, nay-sayers and doubters did little to dull your mood ━ nothing would ruin such an achievement.

but it motivated you.

you heard it all before, when you signed with haas. how it was a PR move, not on merit. for the money you would bring in. the commercial value.

it was the same thing, and the need to prove people wrong was always a blessing when you got in the car.

it’d been a wet qualifying, playing into your favour. putting the car into p3 meant everything would’ve had fallen into place. and it did.

you were overjoyed, the smile had not been wiped off your face. you were proving that contract was yours based off your talent.

you went on to hold onto p3 in the race and secure a podium, you were high off adrenaline and excitement the moment you got out of the car.

you’d handled the pressure, failed to make a mistake; blessed to have had your best qualifying at the hardest place to overtake.

the other headline of the weekend?

charles had finally won his home race.

he wasn’t on your mind, not as you shared the podium. or as you faced the media together afterwards.

you cared deeply for charles, but this was your childhood dream. years worth of hard-work had finally paid off. being near him wasn’t hard, for once, because you had way too many things to currently be happy about.

it was civi and casual, friendly; in the cool down room, on the podium; in the interview.

it wasn’t until later that night, on a random super-yacht, surrounded by drunken socialites and f1 personalities that temptation reached you once more.

you’d barely had a drink, being pulled in every way and direction; talking to many that you didn’t have time to sip the half full glass in your hand.

charles knew this; he’d been watching you all night.

his dream had come true, winning in monaco; in front of his home fans.

call him greedy for wanting more as he stood on the yacht, surrounded by his friends as his eyes settled on you.

he couldn’t help but think of the only way to make this night perfect; you.

the praise and congratulations from everyone else was nice, but he was dying to hear it from you.

to congratulate you as well. on your podium. on your contract.

he thought he was over it, the unfairness of it all. but this was a new challenge.

watching as you stood there, hugging everyone. beaming and laughing, as you should.

would it be so wrong for him to congratulate you as well? to steal a couple minutes of your time? he’d promised to stay away, but this had to be an exception.

right?

so charles went against his word, weaving through the crowd the moment you caught a break in conversations.

uncharacteristically dismissing those who tried to speak to him as he set on his way towards you, nothing would stop him.

“hey,” charles made his presence known; capturing your attention; and the way your eyes lit up and lips curved upwards, he wanted to kill whoever had deprived him of such sight for however many months.

“hi!” you couldn’t help but sound surprised, pleasantly surprised.

you’d been wanting to talk to him; which wasn’t anything new. needing to talk to him however, just unsure how to navigate such thing.

“congratulations. sure you’ve heard it all, but you deserve this.” charles words were genuine; smiling down at you proudly, and while you had heard it all the past couple hours; it meant more coming from him. “the contract as well. huge news,” he added.

your nose scrunched up slightly, grinning ━ pure happiness present because you really were oh so happy.

“thank you,” you smiled; nodding appreciatively. “i should say the same to you. i know how much this win means to you,” you spoke; and charles could only smile at the way you sounded so sincere.

“thank you,” his turn to offer thanks, a silence falling over the pair of you.

that was all you should say, all you were sure was excusable.

it was clear, the way you both had so much on the tip of your tongue; too scared to let it out. neither wanting to be the one to crack. to undone all the hard work.

charles so desperately wanted to rant his heart out, remind both you and himself that the past few months had been undeserved torture. and he was convinced he was going to for a moment.

but he couldn’t. he wouldn’t be selfish with you.

“well i’ll see you━” charles had cleared his throat, ready to do the right thing. to walk away, like he promised he would.

but you cut him off. scared if you didn’t tell him now, you never would.

“wait.” you interrupted, pursing your lips; and he was happy to shut up. he didn’t need any convincing to stay put.

“i uh, with my mercedes contract…” you trailed off; biting your lip. “i made it clear, what expectations would be of me. on and off track, obviously. like anyone would,” you rambled slightly; nervously even.

charles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you nervous.

you were nervous because of what you were implying.

you’d made it clear you didn’t want to be held to any individual expectations off track, that your relations with others wouldn’t concern the team if it didn’t jeopardise the team.

you were grateful, how understanding mercedes were. a breath of fresh air really. so much you’d basically outright told them that you didn’t want you and charles to be an issue, if anything were to arise between the pair of you.

you’d figured if you had a team that backed you, handling outside noise and assumptions would be made a lot easier.

“me and you, it wouldn’t be an issue.” you summed up; practically spitting it out. it felt weird, suddenly lacking confidence as you referenced a ‘you and him.’ worried that ship had sailed.

you watched as his eyebrows raised, lips parting in surprise.

he hadn’t expected you to say such thing, the one thing he’d dreamt of you saying one too many times.

“if that uh, you know. ever happens, i don’t know,” you added on; feeling the need to back pedal, not wanting to come off headstrong. it was the reason for your hesitance. you and charles had never discussed what you were, because it never seemed possible.

charles wasn’t sure what to say. his first instinct was to kiss you; because it seemed as if this was the best night of his life, with all his hopes and dreams coming true.

but his care for you trumped all.

“people will still talk,” he couldn’t help but remind softly. not to argue against you, but to ensure you knew exactly what you were implying. he knew the rush you were feeling, first podium. fresh off multiple highs, he didn’t want you to come crashing down tomorrow and regret these words tonight.

he didn’t know you’d already assessed all your options, weighed up the two cons. your mind had been made up, you just needed to bite the bullet.

you’d already been through it, called every name in the book. may as well make it all for something.

“let them.” you breathed out, a shy smile following suit, mischievous almost, quoting him from that night in vegas. you’d said it with confidence, such conviction he knew you meant it.

his smile was bright, practically beaming at you as he nodded. unsure what to do next, but he didn’t care. he liked the way things were looking.

he hadn’t expected you to kiss him, in the middle of the crowded floor, but god he wasn’t complaining ━ hands finding the small of your back as yours wrapped around his neck.

you’d pulled away shortly afterwards, not creating any distance as your foreheads touched.

“if you still want this of course,” you spoke; just above a whisper, realising you hadn’t really let him confirm he still wanted this.

he’d laughed, at the idea alone he didn’t. shaking his head at the thought as he brought his hand up to cup your face.

“all i could think about tonight, was that the only thing that would make today truely perfect, would be sharing it with you.” charles confessed; taking in the way you lit up at his words, watching as any last doubts or fears vanished from your frame.

you were relaxed, happy and carefree; not one bit of energy spent on anyone around you. who saw, who cared; it meant nothing to you.

you giggled as you pressed your lips to his again, passionately this time; charles leaning over you as he held your body close to his, smiling against your pink lips.

it felt incredibly cliche, as if you were the only two people on the yacht in the moment.

he’d murmured something about getting out of here only moments later, you being quick to agree.

patience was something you’d both demonstrated incredibly well over the last year; safe to say you both had none left to spare.

navigating the crowd hand in hand almost felt like a rush, relieving to not care as you followed him off the yacht; giddy like teenagers as you climbed into the back of a car.

he’d barely gotten his address out before you were on him again, lips pressed against his as you gripped his shirt.

charles hand tangled in your hair, revelling in the way your lips felt against his. he’d spent many nights recounting your night together; attempting to cling to the feeling and pleasure it brought. this was ten times better than what his imagination could produce.

the only time you kept your hands off him was the short walk from the car to the elevator of his apartment complex, the moment the doors slid shut you found yourself pressed against the wall ━ his hands gripping your hips and lips attacking your neck.

you became breathless quickly, satisfied hums escaping you; head tilting back to give him as much access as he wanted.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are mon ange,” charles sighed against your skin; only lifting his head when he heard the doors ring open.

you smiled at him stupidly, taking in the sight. his pretty green eyes, slightly swollen lips and tussled hair. more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen before.

“come on,” you mused with a blush, urging him to head to his room; in quick pursuit.

you’d barley gotten your heels off once inside when charles was snaking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up as your legs wrapped around his waist.

it didn’t feel really; finally able to have you like this.

“gonna make you feel so good,” charles murmured against your lips as he navigated his way through the apartment, hands squeezing your ass which granted a gasp from you. “deserve so much more than a quickie in the bathroom,” he commented.

while your first time together was more than satisfying, it was rushed. muffled moans and chasing release desperately with fear the moment could’ve been ruined in any moment.

tonight you were all his. no need to keep you quiet, no limit to the positions he could put you in.

he sat at the end of his bed; you not taking long to get comfortable in his lap as your lips moved roughly against his; hips grinding as you did so.

“you won,” you breathed out as you shifted your attention up his jaw, teeth catching his ear momentarily as you kissed at the skin of his neck. “let me make you feel good,” you whispered; charles head tilting back as he audibly groaned. “you deserve it,”

charles always loved praise, his ego thrived on it. but god, hearing it from you? his pants were feeling way too tight.

he couldn’t say no to you, not that’d he’d ever want too.

you didn’t give him any time to reply regardless, climbing off his lap and standing between his legs momentarily, hands holding onto his knees as you pressed one lingering kiss to his lips.

sinking to your knees, you were incredibly eager. a scenario you’d play out too many times as your hands got to work in freeing his cock.

charles lips parted as he rested back on his hands, head tilted downwards as he watched you intently ━ biting down on the inside of his cheek at the sight alone.

his breaths only got heavier as you spat in your hand and jacked him off a couple times, hissing as your thumb rolled over his tip.

the sight was better than you could imagine, as you took him in your mouth and watched his head fall back. his clenched jaw, neck muscles and arms flexing as he groaned.

it had your thighs clenching together, not wasting time in bobbing your head; taking as much of him as you could; hitting the back of your throat each time but it did little to deter you.

“putain,” charles grunted under his breath ━ forcing himself to tilt his head back down to watch you work, hand gathering your hair in a makeshift pony tail. and the way his lips curved into a smirk when your eyes met his had your thighs clenching once more.

“there you go pretty girl, taking me so well,” charles huffed ━ noting the way you gagged around him every now and then, yet showed no signs of slowing down. “mouth is fucking heaven,”

his praise only encouraged you further, doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes; tears welling in your eyes.

your hand was holding his thigh for support, watchinf as he busied himself momentarily by ridding himself of his shirt ━ revealing his toned torso flexing with each sharp breath he took.

“pull your dress down,” his words were direct, a clear demand and with him staring down at you like he was ready to ruin you, you didn’t need to be told twice. tugging your dress down to free your breasts.

his admiring eyes raked your body shamelessly, pleasure only increasing from the sight. you were fucking perfect, and he couldn’t believe this was real.

it was as if you caught on to the moment, reading him perfectly as your efforts picked up ━ keen to make him cum.

and by the way he was starting to tug on your hair, you knew he was close.

he came in your mouth moments later with little warning, and you were practically squirming in your place as you licked him clean.

“you’re perfect,” charles breathed after catching his breath, which happened incredibly quickly; signalling you to climb back into his lap.

you giggled as you did so, grinning as you pressed your lips to his once more; straddling him with ease as your hands spread across his toned chest ━ happy to touch him now that he was back in reach.

his hand moved up your leg, pushing your panties aside and cupping your cunt with little warning; causing you to moan into his mouth.

“you’re fucking soaked,” charles spoke, pulling back to watch your face contort in pleasure; watch as you became putty in his hold. “barely touched you yet baby,” he cooed ━ you couldn’t help but whine, hips bucking against his hand as he circled your clit.

he took in every feature on your pretty face, able to live in the moment and not be rushed like last time. make you feel everything he wanted you too.

“who would’ve guessed you were such a slut,” charles mused; practically toying with you. he couldn’t help himself, not when you looked so pretty panting and whimpering in his lap.

“for you.” you whimpered, hand gripping his bicep tightly as your hips moved against his hand; yearning for more.

he grinned widely at that, rewarding your words as a finger pushed past your folds unexpectedly.

“all for me.” charles hummed in agreement, words still slightly breathless himself as his other hand moved to cup the side of your face, making avoiding his eyes impossible. “all mine.”

the statement had your stomach flipping, words you could used to. something you’d know a long time, but hearing it out loud was so refreshing.

you were his. he was yours.

“please charles,” you whined out impatiently, his toying with your cunt felt good; but you need more, your thighs a painted mess along with his hand by now.

your plea had him hardening again, words sounding so alluring coming from your lips.

“what do you want mon amour?” charles spoke through a breath, eyes gazing over you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. because you were. “tell me, i’ll give it to you,” he promised; thumb grazing your cheek; such a delicate action that didn’t correlate with his thumb teasing your clit expertly.

you whimpered again, cheeks a tint of pink as your eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but they found charles gaze once more.

“all of you,” you spoke. “wanna feel you,” you sighed; his cock was pressing against your inner thigh ━ not helping with the urge to feel him inside you.

his lips curved upwards, pleased with your answer; and unable to deny himself any longer either. you’d both been through enough torture, he wouldn’t be delaying this any longer.

“want me to fuck you yeah?” charles paraphrased for you, hand leaving your cunt to find your waist; lifting you off his lap with ease and laying you beside him.

he was hovering over you within seconds, leaving you to nod eagerly below him. your hands found the hem of your dress, tugging it up and over your head as if that would help entice him.

but he didn’t need any help; he doesn’t think he’d last another second without being inside you.

he slid inside you without another word, your gasps intertwining as your own head fell back against his pillow; eyes fluttering shut at the stretch.

he gave you a moment to adjust, his head falling into the crook of your neck; light kisses peppered on your skin, a contrast to the way he was about to fuck you.

your hands tugging on his hair told him you wanted more; thrusting into you slowly and deeply at first, your mouth fell agape at the angle it hit ━ moans beginning to fall from your lips.

“charles, fuck,” you mumbled ━ fingers moving down his back, sure to leave marks as he gradually picked up the pace.

his thrusts got quicker, but not softer; fucking you into the mattress, all you could do was whimper and moan ━ eyes rolling back at the pleasuring sensation.

“so perfect for me,” charles grunted; the way you were squeezing him was better than he remembered, keeping his focus on your own pleasure because if not, he’d probably cum within moments.

“oh my god,” you all but practically squealed when he moved your leg over his shoulder, feeling as if he was splitting you open; you bit down on your lip to try shut up the now constant sounds.

charles wasn’t having a bar of it however.

“ah, ah,” charles breathed; hand moving to tap your cheek. “wanna hear you gorgeous girl. every fucking sound,” charles told you; eyes pouring into yours which made it clear he wasn’t joking.

you nodded weakly, on cue charles delivering a harsher thrust that had you choking out a moan once more.

it didn’t take long, for you to get brought to the edge; stomach growing tight as your eyes rolled back once more. cumming without warning, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling.

a moment of weakness for charles, watching as you shook beneath him and screamed his name; squeezing him suddenly, he almost came too. he didn’t though thankfully, because his focus was still you.

you weren’t prepared for him to not relent, instead feeling his hand snake between your bodies and find your clit, eyes flying open.

“o-oh,” you gasped, the onslaught of pleasure hard to cope with as your hands gripped onto his back tightly, nails digging into his skin as he smirked down at you.

“take it baby,” charles grunted; eyebrows raising momentarily. “too much?” his question was teasing, and he couldn’t help the breathy chuckle when you shook your head; scared he’d stop. you didn’t want him to stop.

you weren’t sure you could take it, but you were going to try. you’d do anything for him when he was touching you like this.

“so good,” you moaned; tears welling in your eyes quickly from the overstimulation, body jolting with every thrust which hadn’t relented.

his stamina impressive, having not slowed down nor gotten sloppy as he pounded into you.

you were struggling to keep your eyes open now, lost in the pleasure. but charles wanted to watch you, and wanted you to watch him as you pushed you over the edge once more.

“look at me baby,” charles grunted; pinching your clit lightly which had your eyes flying open, meeting his. “gonna watch me as you cum again yeah?” charles told you, his own breaths heavier now as he struggled to not let himself revel in the feeling of you.

you nodded, again, like a broken record; all your effort focused on watching him as your face contorted in pleasure. maybe even a tear or two fell, the familiar feeling washing over you again suddenly as he delivered another harsh thrust. and another. and suddenly it was as if he found new energy somewhere.

you all but screamed his name as you came again suddenly, coming undone on his cock. he was close behind, unable to resist with the way your walls squeezed him again.

your heavy breaths filled the room as charles helped you both ride out your highs, before sliding out of you, he remained above you regardless.

he was looking at you in awe, hand pushing some of your hair away that had gotten stuck to your forehead, earning a lazy smile from you in return.

“i could get used to that,” your words broke the silence; eyes flickering to his lips which gave charles the hint to place a kiss on your lips, a delicate one unlike those shared earlier.

he’d chuckled at your words afterwards, humming in agreement as his hand ran up and down your side comfortingly.

“me too,” charles agreed with a grin; pressing yet another kiss to your lips, a longer one this time; passionate and slow. enjoying the moment. the peace of it all.

when you pulled away moments later, you practically beamed as you urged him off of you; moving to straddle him instead.

you had a lot of time to make up for.

━━━━━

a/n: oh she’s bACK BACK CHARLES FIC YAY

hope u liked, still rusty lol i don’t rlly like the smut but i did enjoy writing the angst hehe

unedited sorry i’ll get to that later like usual oOps

as always feedback is always greatly encouraged and appreciated, means the world to me so pls share ur thoughts 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

luv u all !!!!!!!

#f1 smut #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fic #f1 fic #f1 one shot #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #driver!reader #charles leclerc

[irndad]

here I lay me down - s.r.

a/n: ex!spencer gets shot, and you show up at the hospital to see if he's okay. spencer is still desperately in love with you. based on this post wc: 2.3k (she is LONG)

Spencer wakes to a cacophony of sounds, others breathing and various beeps and hums from a variety of medical machines. He hates the noise of the hospital, as he knows what always follows. It’s pain, and ever since he kicked dilaudid, he doesn’t get the relief that people are always pushing on him here. 

The last thing Spencer remembers, he was in front of Morgan, who was about to get shot- it was a piercing memory, one that even the anesthetic wearing off slowly couldn’t numb. He’d jumped in front of it, and the pieces of Morgan pacing around his room and the whole being in a hospital thing click into place. 

When he blinks his eyes open, he sees Hotch speaking to the doctor with his endearingly concerned eyebrow scrunch and it’s then that he notices a familiar scent in the air. 

It’s perfume- he knows because he’d bought it- a mixture of jasmine and lilies, and the memory of the night he gave it to her bursts into technicolor when he closes his eyes. It had been her birthday, and he’d gone with Penelope and Emily to pick out a gift for her. 

He remembers how she’d lit up, her warm doe eyes brightening with fondness that he’d earned, and the way his heart had flipped in his chest- the memory is in crisp detail. He remembers the way she’d kissed him, equal measure in thanks and in adoration, and it’s comforting to remember right now. He tries to think of her often, especially when waves of pain crash over him like an unruly ocean that threatens to drown him. There was someone who loved him at one point, he tries to remember. 

He wants to compliment the nurse wearing it, but even as limited as his social skills are in this state, he knows that telling the nurse you like her perfume because your ex wore it is probably inappropriate. 

A roar of desire presents itself in his chest- he has no desire to want her here, but Spencer can’t help but fantasize about her presence. Her nimble fingers running through his hair, her soft voice cooing at his injuries. It was always nice to come home to her after a rough day- her disposition warm and kind and good. It’s his fault he doesn’t have it- his fault that she doesn’t love him anymore. 

It’s as if he conjured her, when she walks in the door. 

He literally cannot believe that she is here, in his hospital room- he drinks in the sight of her like a man starved. She’s beautiful- he’d never forget this but it’s been so long since he’s seen her. The curve of her cheek, her cupid’s bow, the slope of her neck- the details he spent the best year of his life memorizing under careful touch. 

Her body language is protective, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other at her mouth, her delicate fingers holding a tissue. Had she been crying?

Before he can think of what to say to her, she speaks to him. 

“How are you feeling?”

He’d forgotten just how her voice sounded. Or rather, how it sounded when she was concerned for him. It’s addicting, hedonistic in the ways of wine and drugs and everything else you should have in moderation but had to give up. It’s just so comforting, her lovely doe eyes looking at him with warmth and concern. 

“Hey,” he replies, not answering her question. He might be imagining her. They might have given him drugs. There’s no way she came and see him of her own volition. 

She pauses for a moment, biting her lip in an incredibly endearing way (and god, he’d missed looking at her) before she makes the decision to walk over to the side of his bed. He tries to crane his neck to look at her and she scolds him, and this doesn’t make any sense. 

“You got shot,” she says, voice warm and concerned, and if he squinted he could hear love in her voice. 

“I’m okay,” he tries to reply. 

“You got shot,” she says, eyes flaring with emotion. She always hated that he minimized his pain. 

“You came,” he says, after a beat of silence. Her fingers are running through his hair and he tries to commit this to memory. It doesn’t mean she loves him. She’s the kind of person who stops on the street to give someone the last dollar in her wallet, of course she would visit her ex-boyfriend in the hospital after he got shot.

It doesn’t mean anything. 

“Of course I came, Spence,” she says, intentionality in her tone, “You got hurt.”

It’s selfish to lean into her touch, but she smells like home and he doesn’t know if he will ever be held like this again by her. And he doesn’t care to be held by anyone else. 

Hotch comes in, and if he’s surprised to see the two of them together, it doesn’t show on his face. He tells Spencer that the. Bullet had been clean through, and that he’d been lucky. He’d avoided internal bleeding and would need to stay at home for a week. 

When Hotch leaves to ‘give him some space to process’, the silence lingers.

“Thank you for coming.”

It’s kind of worse, actually. The reality where she’s still his girlfriend is superimposed on top of this one, and he can feel the ghost of the kisses she’d pepper his cheeks with. If she still loved him, then she’d hug him and tell him that she loves him, tell him how angry she is for jumping in front of a stray bullet. 

It’s my fault, he thinks to himself, eyes raking over her. She’d definitely been crying, he realizes. Her makeup had run and he think she might have slept here. How had he ever gotten someone like her to fall in love with him? 

It’s his fault she doesn’t love him anymore.

When the doctor tells him that he needs someone to stay with him for the next few days, and she volunteers, he agrees.

It’s a nice kind of pain, he thinks. Any piece of her is more than he wants of anything else.

_______________________________________

It turns out that she is a wonderful caregiver. 

Penelope had been incredibly supportive of this idea, somehow convinced that the proximity would bring them back together. This is a hope that Spencer does not engage in, but still- it’s nice to have her around. 

She knows her way around his apartment- knows how he organizes her things. Half her things used to be there too. 

Memory is a funny thing. The worst part by far of eidetic memory is the lack of forgetting, and up until now, this was best seen in the horrors of his work. Now, it’s all her.

Taking care of him when he got shot is not the same thing as loving him. 

When she makes them dinner (which is so kind of her- he offered to buy takeout and she’d insisted on recreating his mother’s soup recipe. She’d kept a copy of it in her phone. Spencer had almost died of flattery), she sits next to him on his couch

It’s funny how the best memories of his life are so colored now- their trip to Europe, their first kiss, the first time he’d cooked her dinner and she’d watched Doctor Who with him. Ghosts of memory linger through the place, and it hurts to see her sit next to him on the couch with a foot between them. 

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a beat of silence. She looks beautiful, and he always thinks this. She’s wearing his t-shirt which is just an awfully tempting view. 

It’s his fault he can’t have what he wants. 

“I told you I still wanted us to be friends,” she says, looking down at her bowl, “You’re my friend. I’m happy to do this.”

He can tell she means it as an olive branch but it cuts like a knife. Because he never wanted to be her friend. She was the first thing he even wanted enough to ask for it. He still remembers when he’d asked her out the first time, the stuttering and the way she’d looked, how impossible her liking him back had felt. 

And then he’d managed to make her fall in love with him. It didn’t even take much- he just had to be himself, the way she says it, and he’d give anything to have that back. 

“You’re a good friend,” he replies, instead of everything he’s thinking. 

“Hotch thinks so,” she muses, not looking at him, “He was surprised I’d come here after you broke up with me.”

It’s a slight lash out, and it’s fair. It’s not fair that she’s here, wearing his fucking t-shirt, her collarbones exposed under the fabric. He know what her skin feels like under his lips, and now she make veiled comment on his couch. 

“Why did you?”

He can’t figure it out. They’d broken up two months ago. He’d done it to protect her- after the anthrax case he’d been fucking fixated on her getting hurt. Because this is the stuff he can’t protect her from. Can’t help if biomedical hazards end up on his clothes,  and if he comes home shot. 

He got shot. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t get forever with the woman he loves, because he can’t keep her safe. Even if he quit just then- enough people have made an enemy of him. She’d never be safe.

So he made a choice to cut his ties and let her go, and yes, every fucking night since he’s had at least one nightmare about what she looks like crying and asking him to stay. He never, ever wanted to see her like that, but he also never ever wanted her to be a widow. 

She’d find someone else. She’s so easy to love- he doesn’t like to think about someone else loving her, but he’s sure she won’t be alone. 

His voice catches in his throat.

“It is nice of you,” Spencer chokes out, “I never wanted you to have to do that.”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” she says, getting up to get him another serving, and he grabs her wrist.

“Ba- Hey, please. Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” she says at him, but she doesn’t pull her wrist back. 

“I just-“ he stammers, but it’s heavy and something he can’t give up, the combination of her gaze under his and her soft skin in his grasp, “I can’t have you here and hate me. I just can’t take you hating me. I know- I know what I did. I know it’s not fair to ask and I know that we’re not together and I know it’s my fault but god, you can’t hate me. I can’t take it.”

“You think I hate you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“You think I came to the hospital in the middle of the night, slept in a waiting room, cooked you soup and slept on your couch because I hate you?”

He doesn’t know what to say. How could she still love him? 

“It’s you,” he replies. “You’d always do that for me.”

She’s closer now, moving into his space more and more and he can smell his own body soap on her because she showered here, and he’s overcome with a desire to hold her. 

“Why do you think that is?”

She’s almost in his lap now, and there’s a greed to this now, the way he pulls her a little bit closer. She tips her head back in a bitter, tinny laugh that he doesn’t like the sound of. 

“I mean, Spencer- I love you so much that I don’t even care if you love me back.”

“You still love me?”

“I’m working on it,” she says, a bitter smile on her face, “You’re hard to get over.”

“Don’t get over me.”

It’s not the smoothest thing he could’ve sid, and he kind of regrets the implication on her face, sees her gorgeous features crumple. 

“That’s mean, Spence.” 

“No! No. Don’t. Don’t-don’t do that. Don’t move on with your life and find someone else because this is the lightest I’ve felt in fucking weeks.”

Her eyes widen into saucers, and her grip tightens on his hands, and Spencer feels like he could fly. 

“I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have made you go and I should’ve let you be the person who picks me up at the hospital and I know, I know how lucky I am that you’re still here, that you cared enough. Please, please don’t get over me. I know it’s not far to ask.”

She blinks a few times at him before opening her arms for a hug, of which he flies into at breakneck speed. His ribs hurt but he’d forgotten what it was like to hold her. And yes, maybe wanting this makes himself selfish, but he wants this. Maybe this can the one thing he lets himself have. 

“I do love you. ” he speaks into her collarbone, and she shushes him. 

“No, no,” he says, looking up at her, her gorgeous doe eyes shaky with uncertainty he knows is his fault, “If you’ll still have me, I’d like to-I’d like to try again. And I know that you probably can’t trust me and I have so much to make up for and-“

“Spencer,” she says warmly, twining their fingers, “I’d like to kiss you now. Okay?”

He nods a bit fervently, shaking as he does, but when she kisses him-

It’s just as he remembers. She leans into him, her delicate fingers cupping his jaw and he wraps his spindles arms around the curve of her waist, pinning her to him like she might float away if untethered. 

When Spencer gets back to the office, he it’s not just his wounds that have healed. 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn s/o asking to kiss him on his forehead in hopes that it would bring him the same love & comfort they felt whenever they received it?

Sunday: his first reaction is; aww aren’t you just the most precious and adorable thing he’s ever seen.

He immeditly obeys your wish and presents you his forehead, where you planted a soft, tender kiss against.

He instantly relaxes beneath the featherlight touch of your lips against his forehead, smiling softly as he selfishly indulges himself in your presence and the way you managed to calm him without uttering a single word.

Your wish is his command in every sense of the word.

You’re probably the only person he’d gladly kneel before, but only in private though because he wasn’t fond of people staring at what was meant to be a special moment between two lovers.

And the fact that you weren’t fond of overcrowded places, regardless of whether they were staff members hired by The Family or just regular pedestrians who can’t go a single day without sticking their noses into things that don’t concern them.

So before anything happens Sunday makes sure to take you to your shared room for a much more private setting for the both of you.

After all this moment was meant for you two and you two alone.

So back to the moment you kissed his forehead, Sunday felt the weight of his responsibilities slip off his shoulders like water off a ducks back and he could even feel himself breath again now the weight was nonexistent; And you were to thank for making him feel that way.

You, sweet, kind, generous, you. Sunday’s own personal angel who makes him forget about his duty and make him feel alive again as you breathed new life into him with just a forehead kiss.

Welt: he would welcome the idea of you giving him a forehead kiss wholeheartedly.

He knows that it was nearly an impossible task for you to ask anything of him and he’s more then willing to let you go at your own pace, as he could clearly see that you didn’t expect to get this far.

‘You don’t have to do it if you don’t feel up to it just yet dearest.’ He says calmly as he places a comforting hand on yours. ‘There’s no time limit to do things under, so please take your time and remember to take deep breaths if needed.’ He adds.

He just wants you to feel comfortable and not feel pressured to do something that you weren’t comfortable with doing just yet. For it wasn’t fair on you in the slightest.

‘No. I want to do this, it’s just-‘ you then took a deep breath before refocusing yourself in the moment. ‘You know what I’m just going to kiss your forehead now. If that’s alright with you.’

Welt smiles. ‘It’s more than alright with me. Please continue.’

The moment your lips touched Welt’s forehead, he felt as though he were a young boy in love, everything he was feeling the longer your lips lingered were both indescribable and addicting.

He felt warm, he felt giddy, he felt excited but most of all he felt loved, cherished and really happy.

Nothing else existed in that moment but you two and that was fine by him because at the end of the day he would love nothing more than for it to be you whom he sees no matter what.

He often feels as though he wasn’t putting as much time in your relationship as he was with anything else but when you kissed his forehead, all of those worries he had yet to speak up upon faded away as he was reassured with the way you treated him as though he were priceless.

For he viewed you within the same point of view and was glad that feeling was reciprocated tenfold.

Gallagher; ‘Gallagher, can I-‘

‘Yes.’ He says with impeccable speed.

‘I-i haven’t even asked yet-‘

‘You don’t have to because my answer is yes little bird.’ He cuts you off once again with a wolfish smile before dragging you to sit on his lap as you rested your hands against his shoulders for stability when you kissed his forehead.

The feeling was incredibly fleeting for Gallagher as before he could fully enjoy the feeling of your lips against his skin, you pulled away, Gallagher was pouting like an overgrown child.

‘What?’ You said, thinking you’ve done something wrong.

‘It wasn’t long enough.’ He mutters and tugs you by the waist, causing you to be flushed against his chest. ‘What wasn’t?’ You asked, not understanding what he was getting at.

‘The forehead kiss.’ He clarified. ‘It wasn’t long enough for my liking so I want another.’ He adds, getting a lot of enjoyment from your wide eyed expression as he lifted your head to meet his eyes with a finger under your chin.

‘Don’t you have work to get back to? Won’t Sunday be mad?’ You questioned, knowing that the Halovian’s patience was wearing thin with Gallagher recently, and you didn’t want him getting into even more trouble just because he wanted more forehead kisses.

‘Who cares what that winged prick thinks little bird,’ Gallagher practically purrs, ‘I’m the one busting my ass. So I feel like I’m more than deserving of an extra five minutes to spend with a cutie like you in my lap, giving me a shit tone of forehead kisses.’ He adds.

And that’s exactly what you ended up doing for those extra five minutes.

Blade: ‘why?’ He asks bluntly.

You fiddled with your sleeve, a force of habit of yours that has stuck with you since as long as you could remember. ‘I just hope that it’ll bring you the same comfort and love I feel when you kiss my forehead.’ You admit sheepishly.

Blade knew the kind of guy he was and he wasn’t one that made people feel loved or comforted, if anything it was the complete opposite, but upon hearing you -sweet,shy and socially awkward you- admit that you feel love and comfort from a simple gesture he’s done once maybe twice.

Blade remained silent for a while before feeling himself begin to crumble under your patience gaze and muttered out a gruff. ‘Sure.’

The twinkle in your eyes and the tender smile across your lips melted his scarred heart, but the moment you gently held his face between your hands as though you were holding something worth admiring and pressed the sweetest kiss against his forehead, Blade felt himself practically become a puddle between your palms.

He hums in content as he closes his eyes and lets the love and comfort you claimed he gave you, spread throughout his body, from the bottom of his feet to the tips of his ears. He could feel your love for him encase him in a protective, warm embrace and Blade couldn’t help but selfishly wish to stay here in this position for the rest of your lives.

However you pulled away and Blade noticed how much colder he felt without your touch as he catches his breath, it almost as though he was plunged into an icy cold bath with the way his muscles became frigid and taut.

He had got a mere taste of your affection and now he craved it more than anything.

Dan Heng; knew how hard it was for you to ask for anything of him, despite him countlessly reminding you that he was more then willing to fulfil your wants and needs the best he could.

So when you managed to muster the strength and asked to kiss his forehead, he felt his cheeks become aflame but lets you do so anyways as he casts his gaze elsewhere, praying that you don’t hear how fast his heart was going.

He purrs. I repeat, he purrs the moment your lips touched his forehead as his inner dragon noodle was bursting with happiness upon receiving your affection. It wasn’t something that happened often but when it did, it was always something that never failed to make you smile and him slightly embarrassed at how easily you affected.

He’s just unsure how to voice his liking for your affection without it coming across as awkward or forced. He’s not a man of words when it comes to you as you often left him speechless and unable to think about anything that wasn’t the feeling of your plush, slightly cracked, lips pressed against his forehead.

In that moment all he could think about was you and how despite your differences, you two couldn’t have been a better match for one another.

It was during tender moments like these did Dan Heng want to cling onto forever for they reminded him that he has someone who was worth everything to him.

Someone who loved him regardless of who he was in the past. Your love knew no bounds and Dan Heng could feel every ounce of that within a simple thing as a forehead kiss.

#hsr dan heng x reader #hsr blade x you #hsr blade x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #Honkai star rail imagine #Honkai star rail imagines #blade x reader #blade imagines #blade imagine #welt yang imagines #welt yang imagine #welt yang x reader #hsr sunday x reader #hsr Sunday imagine #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #dan heng x reader #Dan heng imagine #Dan heng imagines #hsr gallagher x reader #gallagher x reader #gallagher imagine #gallagher imagines #honkai star rail fluff

[dearly-somber]

hyunga’s sleeping | l.mh

-> pairing. idol!minho x non-idol!reader (f)

-> genre. Established relationship, domestic fluff.

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1101

-> warnings. None!

-> a/n. This was fueled by pure, unadulterated Minho & Soon-Doong-Dori (SDD) brainrot.

-> skz drabble, oneshot & series m.list

-> started. Feb. 23rd, 2024 @ 16:51

-> fin. Fri., Mar. 1st, 2024 @ 19:40

-> edited. Sat. Mar. 2nd, 2024 @ 15:40

-> divider credit. @plum98

“Eomoni!”

“Y/N, darling, come in!”

Minho’s mom wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you inside with a big smile on her face. She waves you off as you slip out of your shoes and into a pair of bright pink Hello Kitty slippers Minho bought for you as a joke years ago, forcefully prying the bag of goodies you bought on your way here from your fingers.

“I hope I’m not intruding—?”

“Hush!” Mrs. Lee chides with a smile, “Stop worrying so much.” Her hand hovers by the small of your back, guiding you up the last step into the living room.

“Is Minho here? He said he was coming home today…”

“Yes, he’s here. He’s in his room.” Minho’s mom sets the plastic bag on the counter, and you naturally go to help her unpack what you bought, shelving things like you live here.

“I—hello, abeonim.” You bow at Mr. Lee, closing your eyes contentedly when he comes around the counter to give you a fatherly side-hug that squishes you against him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, ruffling your hair as he lets you go in favor of helping his wife unpack.

You shrug, walking around to the other side of the counter. “Thought I’d pop in to say hi. I missed the kittens very much.”

Mr. Lee laughs, shaking his head at you. “Of course, the kittens.” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.

You can’t help the grin tugging at your mouth, clearing your throat to speak. “Speaking of, where are the babies? I haven’t seen any of them since I got here.”

“Last time I checked they were all with Minho in his room,” his mom says, putting away the bottle of red wine you bought for dinner later tonight.

“Great! I can kill two birds with one stone.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

She snickers at you, shooing you away with a fond smile. “Go say hi and then come sit with us—we found a documentary we thought you’d like.”

“Okay, eomoni.” You smile at her and hope your pure love and adoration for her isn’t written too clearly on your face, afraid she might tease you. You walk with light steps in the direction of Minho’s room, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“Minho-ssi,” you sing-song, rounding the corner with a light and airy step-a-step you’re pretty sure you saw somewhere in Thunderous’s choreography.

Mreow?

“Doong-Doong-ah?” Your lips jut out in a surprised pout, looking down at the talkative orange tabby with a tiny furrow in your brow. Following the lump of white sheets behind him, you finally make out Minho’s all-black clad body hidden under all the fluff.

You smile.

“Is hyunga sleeping?” you whisper, walking over on the tips of your toes before crouching in front of Doongie, scratching behind his ears with a soft smile. He mrews, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans his head into your hand. To your right, Dori hugs what you think is a bottle of lotion between his white socked-paws, his tail flicking with each nibble he delivers to the hard plastic.

You let your hand wander over Dori’s side and chide him with a half-hearted hiss when he clamps his teeth around your knuckles, shaking it off with a smile when he pauses a second before giving your hand a couple of licks.

You give his side one last pat before walking around Minho’s feet, only noticing Soonie as he’s cuddling into your boyfriend’s duveted stomach.

You can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips, crouching next to the sleeping cats to card your fingers through Soonie’s fur, feeling a familiar sense of pride swell in your chest at his appreciative purr.

And then you’re looking up at Lee Minho, your body tingling all over at the serenity on your sleeping beauty’s face, unable to help but reach out and let your hand run over his hair; a little frizzy at the ends but otherwise straight; he must not have been sleeping for very long.

You drag your hand over Minho’s head with an inexplicable softness constricting your throat, wishing you could lean down and kiss him without running the risk of waking him up.

You jump a little when Minho lets out an adorable grunt as he slowly pries his eyes open.

“Jagi?” he mumbles.

“Did I wake you?” you coo, combing your fingers through his fringe.

“Mmm.”

You chuckle, letting the pads of your fingers brush over his forehead, over his eyelids. “Ever the truthman.”

“Truthman?” he grumbles, bringing a hand up to loosely hold your wrist between his fingers.

“When did you get home?” You let your hand wander over his cheek.

“A few hours ago…”

“From practice?”

He guides the palm of your hand against his lips. “Mmm...”

He kisses your hand, turning onto his back (much to Soonie’s dismay) and throwing the duvet around his hips before tugging on your arm with surprising strength.

You yelp, practically falling on top of him. He lets out a back-of-the-throat kind of giggle that sends tingles down your arms, using his hands on your hips to shift you higher up his abdomen.

Minho lets out a satisfied hum-sigh against the top of your head, his fingers massaging the skin at your waist before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your trousers, letting the elastic keep his hands in place.

“Baby,” you say, softly—knowing his parents are waiting for you downstairs but feeling so tempted to sink into his warmth and stay there until the end of days.

“No,” he huffs, nuzzling your temple. “Lay with me for a bit.”

You can’t help but laugh, subtly shaking your head. Of course he knows. “Okay, but only for a minute. Your mom invited me downstairs to watch a—“

“Shh, jagi, I’m trying to sleep.”

———

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’re—“

Mrs. Lee stops in her tracks, right outside Minho’s room. The sight she comes across brings an immediate smile to her face, and she can’t help but take her phone out and snap a picture to give to her son later:

Minho, his arms wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, legs intertwined. And surrounding you, Soonie, Doongie and Dori; the youngest of the trio laying by his hyung’s head. Doongie lays by your feet, and Soonie sleeps just off to the side, his legs stretched out in front of him.

As she sits back down with her husband, Mrs. Lee can’t help but think: she can’t wait for the day Minho asks for her mother’s ring.

#skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fic #skz scenarios #skz fluff #lee minho x reader #lee minho fluff #lee minho scenarios #lee minho fic #lee minho imagines #lee know x reader #lee know scenarios #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #ao3 #archive of our own #kpop fic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #skz smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut

[pucksandpower]

Sleepyhead

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: sometimes race weekends can be so tiring that words escape you, but that has never been a problem for your doting boyfriend

Based on this request

You walk down the paddock path, utterly exhausted after a long day at the track. Your eyelids feel like lead weights and you can barely put one foot in front of the other. Charles has his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, practically carrying your limp body as you lean into him for support.

“Tired, mon petit chou?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You just let out a little grunt in response, too drained to even form words.

As you round the corner, Logan Sargeant spots the two of you and rushes over with a big grin. “Hey guys! How’s it going?”

Charles gives him a polite smile. “Hello, mate. We’re doing well, just a bit tired after such a busy day.”

Logan turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of … mad or something.”

You blink slowly at him, your brain taking its time to process his words. Mad? Why would you be mad? You just shake your head minutely, rubbing your cheek against Charles’ shoulder.

“Oh no, she’s not angry,” Charles explains with a little chuckle. “This is just how she gets when she’s really tired. She goes all quiet and doesn’t speak. Her body language is the only way to read her moods then.”

“Yeah, and right now she’s giving off major sleepy kitten vibes,” Oscar’s voice chimes in as he joins the little group with Lando beside him. “Lando gets the exact same way when he’s exhausted. He turns into a limp noodle that I have to carry around.”

Lando huffs indignantly. “Hey! I do not!”

“Yes you do,” Oscar laughs. “Remember that time in Monza last year? You were falling asleep on your feet after the race.”

Lando rolls his eyes but a fond smile tugs at his lips. “Okay fine, maybe I do. But only sometimes!”

You let their playful banter wash over you, your heavy eyelids sliding shut as you nestle further into Charles’ embrace. You feel so safe and comforted in his arms, his solid warmth enveloping you.

“Alright, I think it’s time we got you back to the hotel for some rest,” Charles murmurs, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Say goodnight to the boys.”

You manage a tiny wave at Logan, Oscar, and Lando before allowing Charles to steer you down the paddock towards the exit. His hand runs up and down your back soothingly.

“Goodnight you two! Get some sleep!” Oscar calls after you.

Once you reach the car, Charles helps you into the passenger seat, buckling you in gently before jogging around to the driver’s side. You’re asleep before he even starts the engine, finally giving in to the exhaustion weighing you down.

The sound of a car door opening rouses you from your slumber sometime later. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in your surroundings. Charles’ hand is tenderly stroking your cheek.

“Mon amour, we’re at the hotel. Let’s get you up to our room, hmm?”

You nod drowsily, allowing him to unbuckle you and help you out of the car. He pulls you into his side, one arm securely around your waist as you walk unsteadily towards the hotel entrance. Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover what you feel for this man by your side.

Once in the elevator, Charles shifts to face you fully, those warm green eyes shining with nothing but pure adoration. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You did so well today. I’m so proud of you for working so hard. Let’s get you nice and warm in bed now.”

You give him a tired little smile, nuzzling your face against his chest. He chuckles softly, squeezing you tighter.

Eventually you make it to the hotel room, Charles guiding you straight to the plush king bed. He helps you out of your clothes until you’re down to your underwear, then pulls back the covers for you to slip between the soft sheets. A happy sigh slips from your lips when your head hits the pillow. Charles presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Sleep well, mon cœur. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he whispers, laying down beside you.

You immediately curl into his side, draping an arm over his stomach as you burrow your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, making you feel so small yet so incredibly cherished. With Charles holding you snugly against his chest, you drift off into a deep, peaceful slumber.

When consciousness returns, the first thing that registers is the solid warmth of Charles’ body pressed against yours. His leg is hooked over yours, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your cheek. There’s a pleasant ache to your limbs, the satisfying kind that comes from a good rest after a long day. You shift slightly, causing Charles to stir awake.

“Bonjour, ma belle,” he murmurs, his sexy morning voice making butterflies flutter in your stomach. You tilt your head up to meet his sleepy but adoring gaze, suddenly drowning in those green pools. God, he’s so beautiful.

“Good morning,” you whisper back, rubbing your nose against his.

Charles breaks into a dazzling grin, capturing your lips in a soft, slow kiss that steals your breath away. When he pulls back, he cups your cheek tenderly.

“Did you sleep well? Feeling more rested now?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, smiling lazily. “Sleeping in your arms is the best.”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I couldn’t agree more. I love holding you close like this.”

Your heart swells three sizes as he gazes at you with such naked affection. This man loves you so fiercely, so completely. You can see it in his every look, his every touch. He treasures you in a way you never thought possible. Feeling brave, you let the words sitting heavily on your tongue finally slip out.

“Je t’aime, Charles … mon amour.”

His smile turns blinding, happier than you’ve ever seen it. “I love you too, with all my heart,” he breathes, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.

You melt into the embrace, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude you feel for this incredible man into the kiss. Nothing has ever felt so right, so perfect than being here in his arms. As Charles strokes your cheek and deepens the kiss, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll always feel safe, cherished, and deeply loved by this extraordinary man.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[be-good-to-bugs]

:D

#the bin #my kitties are here!!! i missed them SO MUCH #theres 4 of them here but trubbish will be going to a shelter p much immediately. she would already have gone but there were none accepting #cats back there so she will go to one here #scooter might be going too but we are looking to see if anyone we know will take him. i love him so dearly with all my heart and i wanna #keep him but we just cant keep that many and omen and asbestos are more important to me #the other 2 (including coffee) are gonna go to my mom and siblings. we at least only have to let go of 2. scooter is gonna hurt to say bye #hes so sweet and precious and i love him. he likes to be held like a baby and to claw your chest and stick his nose in your mouth whenever #you speak. his nickname is scgoober bc he is such a little dork baby. such a bastard. i love him so much. i remember when i found him #but i just cant ket go of my other ones either. im so bappy to see asbestos again. i missed him so much #im happy to see omen too #i should post some pictures of them. omen us bigger than she was when i left. her belly is also still shaped funny. i think its permanent #she got a real bad infection after getting fixed and her belly got all drooped down and she is healthy now but her belly is still shaped #kinda weird. her and asbestos bith have weird misshapen body parts. his tail is so silly. whenever he tries to move it the way other cats #do it looks like he is waggging it bc it doesnt move quite right. i should take a video bc its adorable. he is trying so hard to do that #thing where they do a slither motion with their tails but his tail is broken and short and it just doesnt work. its adorable #sorry i know theres a lot of words here. i tried keeping it concise but this IS me being consice #i could talk abt my kitties for hours. especially bc ive missed them and now they are here! i wanna see bibben and coffee too but alas i #cannot anytime soon. im sad that im naver gonna see my dog again. i wish i couldve said bye more. he is such a good dog #ive never been fond of literally any dogs except him. i was his fav person but he loved everyone a lot. he is so sweet and good. i miss him #its not as hard to let go of him as it is to let go of scooter though. i cared for baby kitten him and he was so tiny and so sweet #now he is a bastard man and would never let anybody do what he used to but he is still so affectionate. if you sit on the couch he likes to #come and headbut you right in the face. this is the cat who broke my nose #hhh. i really dont know if ill be able to say bye to him. the fact he broke my nose kinda makes me love him more cause its funny it happene