#and they look at you and say ''you... you mean like.... a romcom?''. how would you recover from that. what would you say | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doobea · 9 months

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I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.

contents: fem!reader, arranged marriage, suggestive themes but nothing too explicit (read with caution), characters are all in their mid/late-20s, reader has a small supportive friend group of other smut authors, mentions of alcohol, sex toys, and lots of failed attempts to seduce an oblivious (?) husband, mdni word count: 2.4k a/n: you guys already know that this is gonna be a wild one. is this my debut attempt to write smut but make it a romcom? maybe. this is gonna be a four-part series!!

一 : Oh baby, I be stuck to you like glue ->next.

To say that you’re infamous on the internet isn’t an exaggeration but a truth. No, you haven’t posted anything controversial regarding your marital status and haven’t gotten yourself into a crazy D-List influencer scandal; you’re infamous solely because of your erotica literature and, surprisingly, your in-laws were fine with it.

“Whatever brings home the money.” Your father-in-law would always chime.

You weren't ashamed of your career, and it practically all started in college when you wanted to pass the time writing for your favorite fandom. In a short amount of time, you had gained a small devoted following on your blog that made a lightbulb switch go off in your head - what if I could do this for a living? And so you did. Fast forward three years, now you are making a comfortable living working from anywhere with a wifi signal available and have over 950k followers on your socials, all under your alias 'YN Finalis'. With that many followers, most people would feel worried about their personal life being breached, but you're not dumb; you like to keep your personal life on, what you like to call, "low battery" mode.

Here's what your near million followers do know about: you’re 24 pushing on 25, you've come from a rather wealthy background, you’re married to an athlete, you’ve written well over 40 original explicit stories, and you have a plethora of sex toys and contraptions in your master bedroom.

What they don't know is: you're in an arranged marriage with Rin Itoshi for the past year, he only sleeps in the guest bedroom, and you're a virgin with a really creative mind.

Crazy, right?

But it's not like you're alone in your thoughts, today was the day when you decided to finally vent to your close fellow internet authors about your sexual frustrations.

"My in-laws keep asking me the same thing every time they call," Your voice reaches your laptop where your weekly meeting was set up on the kitchen counter. "I mean just how do they expect us to have a kid when my own husband doesn't even touch me?" You finish the remaining wine in your glass in dismay as sudden gasps were heard from the laptop's speakers.

"He hasn't initiated sex with you in these last few months?" Chigiri gasps.

"More like in the entirety of our relationship." You cry as you pour out another glass. You pick up your laptop, frowning seeing everyone's solemn looks, and make your way to your living room couch. "I'm still a virgin for crying out loud, like who's still a virgin at 24?"

Probably a lot of people but this is about you, not them!

"Oh my god," Hiori looks like he was going to cry for you. "Maybe your husband's just shy? Could it be he hasn't found the right time for it?"

"But a whole year?" Bachira is next to speak. "No wonder your stories have been popping off, you've been super horny."

You try to hold back your drunken sniffles. "I just don't understand! It's not like I'm ugly or anything, plenty of people wanted to date me back in college! He comes home to a clean house, I make fantastic meals that aren't just a ham and turkey sandwich, and for his past birthday I even gifted him an all-paid trip to Okinawa!"

"Shit," Shidou whistles, "I'd fuck you if you made me a ham and turkey sandwich."

"Not now for jokes." Hiori scolds and his tone softens when he speaks to you, "Outside of sex, has your husband been good to you?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. "God, yes. He's so good to me you have no idea."

It wasn't like Rin was neglecting you in other forms of intimacy. Hugs and brief kisses were frequent both in and outside of the house. He loves holding your hands, shopping for clothes with you, giving you forehead kisses, and kissing you 'good morning' and 'good night' every day. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, other than the occasional 'I'm irritated and I need my space' phase that required a whole evening to himself - but that was beside the point.

"Have you guys even talked about it?" Hiori continues.

"Oh god, absolutely no, it's an arranged marriage for fuck sake. What if I come off too strong and he doesn't even see me like that? Then the whole marriage will just be awkward!"

"But he's willing to do all those other things you listed down, maybe he is just shy." Bachira retorts.

"You think maybe he swings the other way?" Shidou asks but it's genuine this time.

A long period of silence falls over everyone as they try to figure out what they could help you with. But ultimately this was your husband to figure out, Rin wasn't married to them and they don't even know who Rin Itoshi was.

“Ah, whatever!” You swirl the wine in your glass around, frowning at your sullen reflection. “Maybe we’ll just end up adopting a baby instead of having one, maybe his parents won’t be able to tell the difference. And maybe I’ll just have to resort to reading other smut to satisfy my lack of intimacy. Chigiri, when is that next chapter coming out?”

A few clicks are heard from the other side of the screen before he says, “You’re in luck, I’m about to have my friend beta read this and it should be up by tonight.”

Perfect, you thought.

Chigiri, whose online username is RedPanther, has the third most followers on the adult website that everyone in the group was a part of. He's known for his works centering around the tropes 'forced proximity' and 'enemies to lovers', often the smut he writes will include a steamy threesome that has some sort of pegging involved - but that's always towards the second to last chapter.

"Oh!" Bachira calls out your name with a smile, "Aren't you working on a new story yourself?"

“Remind me again,” Shidou leans forward, "what's this one about?"

You find yourself feeling slightly lighter now that you've vented and the topic has shifted to something you're more confident speaking about. After a few seconds of rummaging through your Word documents, you drag the file labeled "I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - rough outlines & ideas.doc" to the group chat. Rarely do you ever share your creativity flow with other people but, after your unwarranted trauma dump, you figure it was better than nothing.

"Funny enough, it's loosely based on my marriage." You confess sheepishly, "This is my way of coping with it, I guess."

"Nothing wrong with that." Hiori chimes in, "It's free compared to having a shitty therapist!"

"Damn woman," Shidou's pink eyes dart back and forth from the screen, eyebrows furrowing up and down as he makes his way through your well-detailed outline. "you need to get laid, ASAP."

You click open your story file to follow along. In the tags section, you listed: Arranged marriage, unrequited love/one-sided, brat tamer, BDSM, choking, spanking, spitting, breeding kink, cum slu–

Okay, maybe Shidou is right (which is a surprise), you do need to get laid. But it's also okay to get slightly defensive for the sake of your ego, right?

You playfully roll your eyes at your group mate. "Ok ok, no need to judge that hard coming from the person who literally writes degradation kinks for a living!"

"Well, I think this story will be your best one yet!" Chigiri and Bachira both flip you a thumbs up over on their end of the call.

After a few more exchanges of small story updates in everyone's life, you all decided to end the call since it was getting rather late in the afternoon and you have yet to get started on dinner. You briefly thank Chigiri for his upcoming update and hop off, just in time before you hear the familiar sounds of the front door opening.

"I'm back."

"Welcome back, Rin!"

You can't help but feel slightly embarrassed and guilty that you were essentially gossiping about your husband's lack of sex drive to your friend group, which he hardly knows about, when he comes home with a large bag of takeout and your favorite coffee order. Rin is dressed in his typical workout outfit, which consists of a black form-fitting t-shirt and grey sweatpants that were just loose enough that you can still make an outline of his 'magic jewels', as Bachira likes to write.

"Baby, you didn't have to." You quickly grab the items from his hands so he can set down his gym bag.

He hums in response, briefly kissing your forehead before making his way into the kitchen to fetch a tall glass of water. "You've been cooking all week so I wanted you to take a small break," Rin says with a smile.

Your ears go warm and mimic the smile back, “Thanks, how was practice today?”

He sighs through his nose and wipes away the remaining sweat-covered bangs sticking to his forehead. “Rougher than usual but nothing too crazy. Isagi was more annoying compared to yesterday.” Rin says with a small pout.

“Boo,” You stick your tongue out in agreement, “how dare he annoys my one and only husband?”

“Oh, shut up.” He flicks a finger to your cheek and lets out the slightest fake scoff.

After hydrating, Rin announces quietly that he’ll come back to eat as soon as he takes a shower and darts to the guest bedroom. And with that, you’re reminded of your odd predicament.

He is a good husband and knows that you care for him and vice versa. When both sets of parents first introduced you two, it was awkward and you knew from reading his background that he wasn’t the most sociable of people but you were, and still are, patient. This arranged marriage was more or less a business deal between fathers; your father held the CEO title at a top entertainment company in the nation and Rin’s father wanted to secure the spotlight for the growing star athlete. Rin didn’t say much during that meeting, and neither did you.

Your first kiss with him was also on your first date. It was at his apartment, both of you shared the same hobby of playing horror games, and you were sitting thigh to thigh on his two-seater couch. You were dying multiple rounds in, fingers bruised from button-mashing and mind-busied with inappropriate thoughts as you kept stealing glances at your painfully attractive fiance. It didn’t take long for Rin to notice because it was stupidly obvious. He sat his controller down, took one look at you, and asked, “Do you want me to kiss you?” with a weird little smile that was seemingly almost out of character from what you knew of him. And the kiss was … awkward to say the least. You remembered him leaning down and you were leaning up, mashing lips and a little bit of teeth together. No amount of research that you had done days prior could’ve prepped for that. And it was almost as if it was his first time kissing too, but you fixated on your inexperience than pay any mind to his mysterious relationship track record.

One year later and you’re still stuck at first base.

As if on cue, you feel your phone give out a series of buzzes in your back pocket, already knowing that it’s from your online penpals. You break out from your thoughts and scroll to the top of the messages:

Bachira M. [BluntBangs] “You should try seducing him tonight!” Hiori Y. [ChoppyCyan] “You remember reading Chigiri’s fan favorite short story - “Till Death Do Us Part”? There was this one scene where the characters had to share one bed because the other bedroom got ruined by a leak! Maybe you can “accidentally” make that happen too?” Chigiri H. [RedPanther] “I remember I had a fun time writing that scene. You should definitely try and flirt with him, y/n.” Shidou R. [HornyDemon] “And if your husband won’t fuck you then I will /jk” Hiori Y. [ChoppyCyan] “Shut up you’ll fuck anything that has a pulse”

They weren’t necessarily wrong. You didn’t want this dynamic to potentially go on for another year or even for the rest of your life - trying wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

You quickly fill up a pitcher of water then peer into the spare guest room and notice warm lighting bleeding through the cracks coming from the bathroom door and the sounds of running water. With Rin still busy washing up, you take the liberty to start messing around for your impromptu operation. You weren’t exactly sure when or who suggested sleeping in separate bedrooms to start but, to your knowledge, this is the first time that you’ve actually sneaked around in his room.

You start with the closet, opening its double doors and seeing his clothes all hung in order and by color. His sneakers and cleats were all stored in separate clear cases in the bottom corner while there is a small center shelf in the middle that holds his cologne, deodorant, and moisturizer. He’s neat, you think to yourself before deciding that it’s probably best to leave his belongings alone and focus on ruining something in the room that was less personal. Next is the carefully made bed with extra fluffed pillows, then the freshly well-kept plants on the window sill, followed by the small framed photo of your wedding day on the bedside table. Guilt immediately rushes over your consciousness.

“No, this won’t do either.” You groan, suddenly feeling like this is the dumbest thing on earth now. “I should just give up.”

“y/n?” Rin’s voice calls out and you snap your head towards his direction, soon to be met with a series of incoherent sputtering from the male as you realize that he’s completely wet and naked.

“Oh my god!” Hands and pitcher fly to your redden face as you try to come up with an excuse but nothing comes out the way you want it to, “I-I uh–water! I thought you needed more water–I’m sorry!”

You hear him scrambling around the room, most likely searching for a towel to cover up his impressive lower half. “You’re fine,” Rin’s voice sounds flustered and unusually high pitched, “just give me a second–”

“N-No I’m sorry! I don’t even know why I’m standing here I should just go and–” Closing your eyes might’ve been the worst choice all day because soon your body meets the wall and soon the floor, spilling the pitcher’s contents all over you in the process.

Your phone vibrates again, text reading:

Bachira M. [BluntBangs] “Did it work?!”

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock smut #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi smut #bllk smut #idk how slow but like slowish #they are not gonna fk until like the last chapter i think #but will do everything else in between #i can make your bed rock - rin itoshi #mdni

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megxplryxb · 1 month

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Romance is Dead, Isn't it?

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Notes: Sweet and fluffy, little bit of angst. Based around Valentine’s Day because I’ve had this is in my drafts for a minute.

The smell of cheap, overused aftershave and five dollar bouquets, currently lingered throughout the aisles of Family Video. Loved up couples filling the store, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings and pressing kisses to their lovers blushing cheek as they scanned the shelves of the romance section.

Love heart decorations hung from the ceiling, pink foil curtains draped over the entrance and Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time blared from the speakers while you completed sellotaping the balloons you’d only finished inflating ten minutes ago. You weren't exactly sure why Keith was making Valentine's Day such an extravaganza this year but you were absolutely hating every second of it.

February fourteenth had never been kind to you. Not when you were ten years old and the card you thought had been from your childhood crush was actually written by your Mom. Not when you were fifteen and you went to the movies with Jackson Taylor, who made up a rumour that he had gotten to second base with you and definitely not last year, when Derek Cooper had taken you out for dinner, only to be caught by his girlfriend that he had surprisingly forgotten to mention.

Yeah, Valentine's Day could suck it.

“If one more person asks if we have another copy of Sixteeen Candles, I swear, I won't be held responsible for my actions.” You warn, jumping down from the step ladder with a loud huff.

“Yikes, what’s gotten your panties in a bunch today babe?” Robin questions with a teasing smile on her face as she serves the next customer.

“My panties are not in a bunch thank you very much. I'm just saying, what kind of moron waits until Valentines Day to rent the most sought after romcom?" You ask, taking a gulp of water in an attempt to erase the taste of rubber from your mouth.

Fake laughter echoes from the other side of the store where some girl has been flirting with Steve for the past fifteen minutes. You'd noticed her outside before she walked in, glossing her lips and pushing her boobs up just enough to get the attention she was obviously desperate for. She's annoyingly pretty, with perfect hair and sun kissed skin and when she raises her well manicured hands to rest on his bicep, you can’t help but grit your teeth at them.

"Is he planning to do any work at all today?" You point, rolling your eyes as Robin looks over at her other best friend and then back to you with a frown. She can sense the irritation in your voice and she knows why, even if you would never admit it. The signs have been there for quite some time and she wonders how much longer you can keep up the charade of not having feelings for Steve Harrington.

"Hey Dingus! A little help over here?" Robin demands, directing him to the queue of customers waiting for assistance at the counter. Steve nods his head, apologising to the girl who makes sure to write her number on his arm before waving goodbye.

“Yeah, thanks for calling me over, I've been trying to get away from her for like, the last ten minutes.” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, gesturing for the next customer to approach.

“Yeah, you really looked like you were being held against your will there, Harrington.” You scoff bitterly, stacking up a pile of returned tapes.

“Seriously, did you guys not see me trying to signal for help when she started touching me? I mean come on, desperate much?" He jeers, shaking his head.

"She did seem disgustingly eager." Robin interjects, scrunching her nose.

"Since when has that ever stopped him?" You reply, motioning towards Steve, who seems a little bit offended by your words.

"Jesus, why does it look like Cupid came all over this place?" Eddie chuckles as he enters the store, getting his jacket caught in the foil curtain, almost ripping it off of the door.

“Hey, careful Munson, don’t mess up my masterpiece!” You warn, carrying the tapes into the back as he slowly untangles himself.

"Because dear Edward, it is the day of love and romance!” Robin squeals excitedly, clapping her hands.

“Can you tell she has a date with Vickie tonight?” You tease, her cheeks turning pink at the mention of her new girlfriend.

“Alright, way to go Buckley.” Eddie high-fives the girl who couldn’t contain her happiness.

“We’re just going to the movies but I’m so nervous! Like, what if I make a total doofus of myself around her? She might not be as accepting of my clumsiness as you guys. I could fall up the steps when we’re walking to our seats or choke on the popcorn or…”

“Robin relax, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.” Steve interrupts, hearing the conversation from the till. His eyes meet yours, both of you sharing a disapproving look at your friend’s lack of confidence in herself. It was something you often discussed between yourselves, trying to figure out ways to help her see just how great she really was. Robin had always been good at hyping other people up, telling them how awesome or pretty they were but it was a completely different story when it came to herself.

“Steve’s right, you need to chill out. Vickie’s already heard you doing god awful karaoke, not to mention witnessing you hurl all over the bathroom floor at the Hideout and she’s still drooling over you. The girl is putty in your pretty little hands.” You jokingly reassure with a smile and it seems your light hearted words put her somewhat at ease as she takes a relieved breath.

“Hey, do you guys have a copy of that new movie with Molly Ringwald? Sixteen something?” Eddie shouts from the romance section of the store earning a scowl from you.

“Shit out of luck Munson, we’re totally sold out.” Steve replies, the curly haired metal head letting out a dramatic groan as he walked back to the counter, causing some of the other customers to flinch.

“Didn’t take you for a romcom kinda guy Eds.” You mock as he gives you a toothy grin. “Sweetheart, if it helps me get laid by the end of the night, I’ll watch anything.”

“Ew, gross Eddie, I really don’t need visions of you and Chrissy getting it on.” Robin shivers in disgust.

Although you share the same sentiment as your best friend, you can't help but think how nice it is that Eddie finally found someone that truly loves him for who he is. You couldn't remember ever seeing him so happy and a little part of you was jealous that you didn't have that with someone too.

"Harrington, did you get a tat dude?" Eddie quizzes, pointing to the digits on Steve's arm. You're taken out of your thoughts upon hearing the question directed at your coworker. Steve's eyes fall to you for a brief moment but you busy yourself with some paperwork, trying your best to pretend you're not paying attention to them.

"Oh, um no man, just a customer earlier, gave me her number." Steve brushes off with a shrug.

"Sweet, you gonna call her?" The hellfire leader interrupts and you hate yourself for wanting to know the answer too.

"God no, she was way too forward." Steve says, shaking his head, hoping that would be the end of the conversation as you relax again.

"What's wrong with forward? Come on man, it's Valentine's Day, call her, ask her out." Eddie encourages, wondering why Robin was shooting him a killer look as Steve shifts uncomfortably.

"Actually, I kind of already have a date tonight." He states, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The relief you felt moments ago, quickly vanishing, being replaced with a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach. Steve had someone and it wasn't you. It would never be you.

“You do? Since when, why wasn’t I informed about this?” Robin quizzes suspiciously.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, Robin.” He huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Do we know her?” Eddie smirks and you wish you were anywhere else right now.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” He answers coyly before serving the next customer.

“So what about you sweetheart, who’s the lucky guy that’s taking you out tonight?” The metal head grins, raising his brows suggestively.

You see Steve and Robin turning their heads, attention on you as Eddie waits for your response. For a moment you consider lying, trying to think of a name and a place just to save face on being the only one without a date for tonight and maybe a little part of you wanted to see what Steve’s reaction would be too. But Robin already knew you had no plans, she had probably already told Steve the same.

“There isn’t one.” You answer, looking down at the ground, wanting it to swallow you whole.

“Bullshit, every time I’m in here there’s a guy asking you out.” Eddie spits, frowning at your response.

He’s right, guys do ask you out. It’s not like you were some sort of prude who never had a sex or never went on dates but lately, you just hadn’t been feeling it. Not when your heart belonged to someone who didn’t even know they had it and until you could get over Steve Harrington, it wouldn’t be fair to start something with someone else.

“Yeah, just not the one I actually want.” You reply, refusing to look Steve’s way as you walk to the back.

You figure now is a good time to take you break, needing a moment away from your friends to regain your composure. The restroom door locking behind you as you drop to the floor, tucking your knees into your chest. How had you gotten here? How had you been so stupid to fall for your friend? How had you allowed this to happen?

You secretly wondered who Steve’s date could be, knowing there was a number of viable contenders. Was it the brunette from last week who asked him to explain how The Lost Boys wasn’t a Peter Pan spin off or the blonde that always laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t even funny. Or maybe it was the raven haired girl who openly discussed her recent porno rentals with him every week.

One thing you knew for sure, it certainly wasn’t you.

The sound of footsteps brings you back to your shitty reality and the sudden knock on the bathroom door has you standing on your feet again.

“Hey, it’s just me. Are you ok?” You hear Robin ask from the other side. You straighten yourself up, wiping your clothes down before unlocking the door to face your friend.

“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You question, doing your best to give her a reassuring smile but she sees right through you.

“I honestly didn’t know dingus had a date, I would have told you if I did.” She mutters nervously as you shake your head.

“Why? It’s not like I care what he does.” You state as Robin gives you an unconvinced glance.

“Babe, it’s me you’re talking to right now, no one else. You forget I used to be the master at hiding my feelings, so I know all the signs. You’re totally crazy about him aren’t you?” She quizzes, as you shrug your shoulders. There was no point in hiding it from her anymore, she could read you like a book.

“I’ll get over it.”

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” She suggests as you let out a bitter laugh. “Did you not just hear what he said out there? He has a date, Robin.”

“Yeah but maybe if—”

“No. I’m not telling him alright? So please, just drop it.” You beg, letting out a deflated sigh.

Robin decides not to push you any further, realising you didn’t want to talk about it right now but you know this won’t be the end of it and eventually you’d have to answer the many questions you were sure she was going to have, taking a mental note to purchase alcohol before you talked about your feelings for Steve with her. But for now, you were grateful that she was leaving well enough alone so you could get back to work and pretend that everything was fine.

The remaining hours went by painfully slow, the romance section almost bare and you were counting down the minutes before you could go home to your bed and shut out the world while you waited for this shitty day to be over. Once the store got a little quieter, Steve offered to man the counter while you did Robin’s make up in the back, helping her get ready for the long awaited date before her girlfriend picked her up.

By 7:45, you were left with Steve and Keith who had been in his office doing paper work since he ordered you to decorate the store earlier. Steve had noticed you were quieter than usual, trying his best to joke and make light conversation but all he was met with was one worded answers.

“It was really cool of you to do Robin’s make up, y’know?” You hear Steve mumble as you restock the confectionery stand.

“That’s what best friends are for, right?”

“Yeah of course but you saw how nervous she was all day and I think you helping her out by making her look all pretty and stuff, just gave her the confidence boost she needed for tonight. I just thought it was really sweet of you.” He compliments, a warm look on his face that has your frosty demeanour melting.

“Alright, I’m done for the day. You two ok to lock up?” Keith asks, dousing himself in cheap cologne as Steve shoots his boss a glare knowing it was his night to close.

“No, not really. I have a date.” Steve argues as Keith grunts unsympatheticly. “You’re not the only one lover boy.”

“Online chat rooms don’t count, Keith.” Steve fires back as you try not to laugh at the expression on your boss’s face.

“You want to be out of a job, Harrington?” Keith threatens, looking less than impressed.

“No, but I really need to—”

“That settles it then, you two will lock up. Happy Valentines Day.” He smirks, throwing Steve a set of keys before exiting the store.

“What an asshole!” Steve groans, throwing the keys on the counter, putting an irritated hand through his signature hair while his plans hang in the balance.

“Now I get why he wanted me to decorate so badly.” You mutter, thinking back to how you spent the first couple of hours of your shift, blowing up balloons and getting sticky tape stuck in your hair. Keith was loved up like the rest of your friends. Cupid had gotten another one.

“Do you actually believe he has a date?” Steve asks, frustration still apparent in his voice as you nod your head, groaning.

“As much as it pains me to say yes, given that I myself don’t actually have a date, when have you ever seen him put on cologne?” You question as Steve lets out a heavy sigh.

“Good point. I hope she stands the son of a bitch up though.” He grins playfully and you can’t help but smile back at him. He was so breathtakingly beautiful and you kind of hated him for it.

“Hey, look at that, I finally got a smile out of you.” He teases, poking at your cheek as you lightly push his hand away.

“Steve, quit it.” You giggle as he shakes his head.

“Not a chance, you’re just so pretty when you smile.” He admits, cupping your face momentarily, locking his eyes with your own and your breath hitches as his warm hand rests on your face, his thumb carefully caressing your cheek and you hope to god you’re not blushing right now. Your eyes wander to his lips, pink and plump and a little chapped from the cold weather Hawkins was currently experiencing and you couldn’t help but wonder what lucky girl would get to kiss them later on.

For a moment as Steve gazed at you, you considered telling him everything. How you’ve been crazy about him since you worked at Scoops Ahoy together, falling hard for him when you saw how kind he was to the kids he watched over, knowing he wasn’t the same selfish guy you’d known in high school. Steve Harrington was selfless, brave and caring and as you looked into his caramel coloured eyes, all you wanted for him was to be happy because that’s what he deserved more than anything, even if it would never be with you.

“Steve…”

“Yeah?” He whispers, looking at you in a way that made your knees weak.

You knew this was your chance to tell him, the perfect night to admit your feelings but previous Valentine’s Day disasters prevented you from saying what you really wanted to, afraid Steve would have to let you down gently or worse, laugh in your face.

“You should go home and get ready for your date, I’ll lock up here.” You swallow hard as he finally removes his hand from your face, seemingly taking him out of his own thoughts.

“Oh, no I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He replies, shaking his head.

“You didn’t ask me, I offered.” You reassure, feeling guilty for how you had treated him all day.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. The place is quiet now anyway and there’s only an hour left. Plus I’ve been looking forward to destroying all those damn decorations all day.” You joke, attempting to hide the sadness you were currently feeling from him, terrified that you’d break down in tears if he stuck around much longer.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He grins as you playfully roll your eyes at him. “So I’ve been told.”

“Got any advice for a successful Valentine’s date?” He questions, grabbing his car keys as you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“You’re really not asking the right person. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good Valentine’s experience. Why are you so nervous anyway, you’ve been on hundreds of dates?”

“Yeah I know, but I really like this girl, like a lot. More than I’ve ever liked anybody and I really don’t want to mess this up.” He sighs and you wonder if he can hear your heart smashing into pieces.

“Wow, she must be really special.” You breathe as he nods his head looking like a schoolboy with a crush.

“Yeah, she is.” He admits and it’s like a fresh bullet to your chest.

“Well then I hope she knows how lucky she is. Any girl who can’t see what an amazing guy you are would have to be a complete idiot.” You reply honestly, almost certain you see a hint of pink in his cheeks.

“Thanks, honey.” He whispers, before walking towards the exit, the nickname causing your brain to short circuit. Honey.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, walking out the door as you feel a tear slide down your cheek watching his car pull out of the space, taking your broken heart right along with him. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, cursing under your breath, pondering if you were really doomed to face every February fourteenth in utter misery.

The last hour of your shift had gone by quicker than expected, having no customers during the final thirty minutes, giving you plenty of time to dispose of the shitty decorations that had mocked you throughout the day. When you finished vacuuming the floor, you wondered how your friends were fairing on their dates. Had Eddie gotten through a rom com without passing out? Did Robin make it up the steps of the movie theatre without falling? Was Keith really on a date with an actual woman? Had Steve already managed to get his new girl into bed?

That last thought made you want to throw up.

At 8:50 you decided to call it a night, dreaming of your warm bed and the cheese pizza you were going to order the minute you got home, wanting nothing more than to wallow in self pity. The money had been cashed up, the shelves were organised and you figured you had earned the extra ten minutes after everything you had endured today. Once you grabbed your handbag and jacket from your locker, you did a final check of the place before clocking out, switching the open sign to closed before you shut the door behind you, turning the key in the lock and pulling the shutters down, thankful you were off for the next couple of days.

As you tossed the keys into your bag, pulling on your jacket to prepare for the short walk to your apartment, you noticed a familiar maroon BMW parked up and Steve Harrington leaning against the hood, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Steve?”

“Hey you.” He smiles, eyes sparkling in the glow of the moonlight.

“Is everything ok?” You worry, wondering if something had happened to one of the kids or your older friends.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Steve reassures as you let out a sigh of relief.

“Well for starters, aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” You quiz, confusion apparent in your tone.

“I was just waiting for her to get off work actually, I’m picking her up here.” He smirks confidently, pushing himself off of the hood.

“You’re meeting her in the Family Video parking lot? Isn’t that a bit creepy?” You tease, raising a brow at him, trying not to focus on how good he looks in a grey sweater that you’ve never seen on him before.

“Well yeah, I guess it would be a little creepy if she didn’t work there.” He jokes, hoping he’d given you enough clues to figure out the rest for yourself. When your eyes begin to widen, mouth parting as you try to speak, he knows the penny has finally dropped.

“Steve I—”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, repeating the same words he'd said earlier, handing you the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen and it’s not until his fingers brush yours that you realise it isn’t a dream. Steve Harrington was here, waiting for you.

“These are for me?” You ask, breath catching in your throat.

“Of course they are, who else would I get them for?” He teases as you try to hold back tears.

"Steve, I…I can’t believe you got me daisies. they’re so beautiful.” You smile, suddenly feeling very dizzy.

“I know I probably should have gotten you roses but I remember last summer when we took the kids to the park and you made Max and El daisy chains. You said they were your favourite.”

“You remember that?” You blush looking up at him as he nods. “I remember everything about you, honey.”

Your stomach is doing somersaults now, palms sweaty and shaking with the way he’s looking at you and it takes everything in you not to kiss him silly.

“Did Robin know about this?” You quiz, wondering if you were going to have to murder your friend tomorrow for letting you go through a shift thinking Steve was going on a date with someone else.

“Are you serious? You know she can’t keep secrets. I couldn’t take the risk that she wouldn’t telll you. Plus, I was afraid she’d never let me live it down if you rejected me.” Steve jokes, flashing his pearly whites at you. How could you ever reject him?

“I don’t understand, if Robin didn’t tell you, how did you know I had feelings for you?”

“Not to sound totally arrogant but I’m not completely stupid. I see how flustered you get around me sometimes and how jealous you get when a customer tries to flirt with me, like today. But mostly I’ve seen the way you look at me and then I knew for sure—cause it’s the same way I look at you.” He whispers, his warm hand cupping your cheek.

“And how exactly do you look at me?” You challenge, swallowing hard as his lips inch closer to yours.

“Like I’m totally crazy about you.”

#steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #king steve #steve harrington imagine #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #djotime #djo #joe keery #gator tillman #kurt kunkle

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shootingstar-scuderia · 3 days

Text

shoot an arrow through my heart

max verstappen x reader

there's something you need to hear max say, but you're not sure if he's actually going to say it. you do know one thing though, it was always gonna be you and max.

a/n: started this longer ago than i'd like to admit but here we are! a big thank you to my fave beta reader K and to @scuderiahoney who helped me figure out all the banner image stuff. based on prompt #966 from this list.

masterlist

It starts with Lando. Because doesn’t it always?

Lando says shit he doesn’t mean, Lando says things just for the sake of saying them. Lando says things as if they are fundamentally truths when they are in fact are lies.

And so, one moment you’re hanging out with Lando, letting him talk you down from buying the little trinket of the week you’ve fixated on, and the next he’s saying that Max is in love with you, saying it like it’s a truth, and then moving on as if he hasn’t just tilted your world on its axis.

And then, before you know it, you’re banging on Max’s front door trying to figure out if it’s true or not.

Trying to figure out if your best friend is in love with you.

“Max! Open the door.”

He doesn’t.

You honestly don’t know if you want him to, or what you’re going to do when he does. Or if he even will, Max doesn’t know you’re here and you don’t even know if he’s home.

You’re just about ready to search for the spare key, the one you told him to hide in the firehose down the hallway because having a fake rock in front of his door makes no sense when he lives in an apartment building, when the door is flung open and a very grumpy looking Max, headset in hand, is giving you just about the most fed-up, unimpressed, stare you’ve seen in your life.

“Are you in love with me?” You can’t help it, the words foreign on your tongue but there’s an urgency to get them out and into the space in between you. You’re so desperate to hear him say it back.

Max blinks at you, bewildered at your words. You can see the gears turning in his head trying to work out what you just said and if you’re being honest you don’t know if you should be offended at the fact that the answer isn’t an immediate yes.

His brow furrows and his lips purse, “what?”

A beat passes, and then another, and then the idiot actually has the audacity to close the door.

You roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it you know that he knows that you’re doing it. As you push the exasperation out of your lungs you knock again.

“Max, nuh-uh, that is not going to work, open the door and answer my question.”

Nothing.

You bang your fist on the door one more time for good measure, “Max, you know I know where your spare key is and we both know that I’ll let myself in if necessary.”

It’s true and he knows it.

There have been many nights where you’ve verged on the edge of too far gone and walked from the club to his apartment. Nights where you didn’t want the fun to end so instead of going home you go to Max’s where you can cuddle and coo at Jimmy and Sassy and sit around in comfy clothes and watch as Max putters around doing whatever it was he was doing before you came over.

It’s true. He knows it. But still, he doesn’t open the door.

You sigh and softly thump your forehead against Max’s front door, through the absence of your knocking you can hear his nervous shuffling on the other side. The inquisitive meows from the cats, the faint scrape of the peephole cover as Max checks to see if you’re still there, if you’re still waiting for him.

You would wait for him for forever, but that’s just for you to know really.

Max opens the door again, just the barest amount. Just enough so his eyes, wide and disbelieving can lock onto yours.

They’re so blue, you don’t know how you never noticed it before, so classically storybook blue that you’re really starting to wonder if this is all some kind of weird dream where you’re standing at his doorstep begging to be loved by him, like some kind of cheesy romcom star. Because after all, aren’t you just a girl standing in front of a guy?

“You’re in love with me.”

The words stretch the impossible distance between the two of you. Even when he’s halfway around the globe he’s never felt this far away.

And still, somehow, you feel too close to him. Like somehow all the other versions of you and him have been false proxies to what you’re reaching for right now. Like all of a sudden, somehow, he’s been molded into your every contour of your soul and you don’t want anything else

The door edges open a little wider.

“Are you asking me that or are you telling me?”

He’s stalling, you both know it. But, you can’t really bring yourself to do more than give him a fondly smile and roll your eyes at him. Because you know, if the roles were reversed, if he was the one throwing pebbles like some kind of suave Dutch romeo, demanding to know if you were in love with him, you would be doing the same thing.

“You and I both know how much you like being told what to do.” With a sigh Max opens the door to his apartment a little wider once more to let you in, “and yet, you’re still here telling me to open my door.”

You can’t really fault him for that one can you?

You make your way to the living room where you settle down on your spot on the couch while Max flits around the living room. Sassy is meowing at Max, desperate for a taste of the outside she only ever gets when the front door opens, and even though he knows she’s not going to make a run for it he still takes the time to half-heartedly shoo her away.

Max does this, dragging his feet, until both of the cats have curled up next to you on the couch and it is only then that he makes his way over to you. Coming to stand behind the armrest on his side of the couch, putting a little too much distance between the two of you for you to not feel spurned by him.

You can hear it in silence between you, you can feel it in the way your body seems to ache from having him in the ways you have him now and not in the ways you want to have him.

You’re not ready to have this conversation.

There’s a part of you that almost wants to say nevermind and forget that you even said anything in the first place. But deep down you know that the two of you have been putting on this elaborate dog and pony show for far too long. You’re only delaying the inevitable.

“So,” you say, nervously running your fingers over the fabric of the couch. “Is it true?”

You try to catch his eye as you say it, not only to try to make sure he doesn't chicken out but to see the reaction he gives. You want to see his soul and know that he means whatever he says.

But Max doges your gaze at every move in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. And you’re not really sure what it means but you can feel the way the dynamic has shifted. All of a sudden the two of you are on shaky ground, not sure where you stand with each other. Even though two hours earlier you would have called him your best friend with your entire heart.

“Well?”

“Please,” he says your name, strained and with a weight to it that you don’t quite want to acknowledge, “don’t make me say it.”

You’re not above begging, you really aren’t, but something about the way he sounds makes you falter. Just a little.

“Max,” you say his name softly, “I think you and I both know what your answer is going to be.”

“Then why do you need to hear it so bad?” His words bite, tinged with an anger that you know he doesn't really mean. “So, I can say it back!” Your words match the sharpness in his and you can see how much they throw Max off kilter.

He blinks at you and then rocks on his feet, first a step forward and then a step back like he’s blown away by the force of what you said. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

You cross your arms and shrug your shoulders, “it was a personal issue.”

“You being in love with me kind of also involves me.”

You really don’t want to admit that he’s right on with that one.

You huff and shrug your shoulders again, “well it goes both ways, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I asked first,” Max shoots back.

You groan at his response and launch yourself up towards Max in a play attempt to strangle him. “Argh, you’re so!” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you slump against him, head resting in the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, “God I hate you.”

Max laughs underneath you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “you evidently don’t.”

“You're so silly,” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. "You want to hear me say it so bad."

Your nose nearly brushes against his, he’s so close you think you could count every single one of his eyelashes if you tried.

Max makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperated and surprised and you know that you’re toeing the line with your teasing

You always know when to give in when it comes to him.

“Okay, yes, I love you! I love you,” you say, “do you love me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Max says as he moves to cradles your jaw in his hands. “I love you.”

You grin, “good. Now kiss me please.”

And he does. He does and it feels like all the cliche things people say. It feels like coming home, it feels like fireworks are going off in the background, it feels like you were meant to be, that he was made for you just as much as you were made for him.

And you just know. You know that there can never be anyone else but him. That there was a version of you before Max and now there’s going to be a version of you that’s with Max, but there’s never going to be a you after Max.

“I love you.” Softer, quieter this time.

You don’t dare look him in the eye, instead choosing to press your cheek against his and stare out the window of his apartment. Your gaze settles somewhere in the distance as you try to memorize the feel of his body pressed up against yours.

You curl your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging absentmindedly as you say, “I’m glad that worked out, I didn’t even know you were home.”

He pulls away from you to fix you with a look that is so quintessentially Max, “you have my location on your phone, you’re always stalking me,” he says, punctuating his words with little jabs to your shoulder.

It’s true, and you honestly don’t know why you didn’t try to check his location in the first place, your logic getting lost somewhere in the panic of knowing that he loved you.

“Mhmm.” You shrug noncommittally, trying very hard to ignore the rushing feeling of warmth in your chest that comes with the realization that Max was so ingrained in your life and you in his from the start.

You try not to think about the fact your toothbrush sits next to his in his bathroom, about the fact that your hand automatically gravitates to his favorite spoon in your cutlery drawer, the one you can identify solely based on the weight of it in your hand. You try very hard to think about how you couldn’t separate the love from the friendship.

It was always gonna be you and Max.

There’s a silence between you for a moment. You try to match your breath to his and let the sounds of outside filter through your ears. And for a moment you can hear how the rest of the world keeps turning, even when your world has stopped spinning on its axis.

“So, what now?” Max asks, turning his head to press kisses to your hairline, his hand squeezing your waist. You can feel his nose brush against your temple as he makes his way down, lips featherlight on your skin. The intimacy of it makes your blood sing with electricity.

You pull “Mhmm, you could take me to bed?”

It’s half serious, half a joke. You’ve waited so long to have Max like this that now that you finally do you want him in all ways possible. But still, there’s some young and girlish part of you that wants it to be special.

Max pretends to think about it for a little bit and it’s so impossibly silly that you have to resist the urge to strangle him again for it, “it’s three in the afternoon, I think it’s a little early for sleep.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, stop being a smartass.”

Max smiles, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “Well,” he says, “how about I send you home so you can get all nice and pretty for me and then I’ll come pick you up and take you to a nice dinner, hmm?”

You flush, not just from the way he pours honey, slow and sweet, into your ear, but from the way it feels like this was always meant to be. Like you were always meant to have this, always meant to have him.

“And then,” he says, dropping your hand to pull you in by your belt loops so your hips are press flush against his, “after dinner, that’s when I’ll take you to bed.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #mv1 fic #mv33 fic #mv1 x you #mv33 x you #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic

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rafeandonlyrafe · 16 days

Text

pizza night

words: 2.2k

warnings: mentions/implications of sex but no actual smut, best friend!rafe, jealousy, angst but happy ending, friends to lovers, rafe with another girl, reader sleeps with kelce

“PIZZA NIGHT!” you shout, rafe letting out a whoop as you carry in the two boxes, plain cheese for you, and a mess of toppings for rafe.

“was worried you weren't gonna show up.” rafe glances at the clock. you're only about five minutes late, only running behind because the pizza place was busy and your order wasn't ready on time.

“as if i would miss our weekly pizza night.” you roll your eyes. you've had to shift times around occasionally to make sure you get the pizza night in, like for rafes football schedule, or you having to help your parents out at a fundraiser. for the past three years, it's been every thursday night, even both getting pizza from your respective locations while you facetime when you're not both in the outer banks.

“come here.” rafe opens his arms up to you. you step into his familiar hold, strong arms wrapping around you, tugging you against his chest. you inhale his scent, so uniquely rafe.

he's been your best friend for as long as you can remember, your parents being friends when both became pregnant around the same time. you did everything together. pizza nights started as plum puree, as your mom loves to joke.

“what do you wanna watch tonight?” rafe asks, knowing whatever you put on will soon become background noise to your chatting, rafe happy to listen to any gossip you have to say.

“umm…” you tap your finger against your chin as rafe plates your pizza for you, loading his plate with three slices for himself. you know he's already got your preferred drink sitting on the coffee table. “mulan.”

“sure.” rafe nods. he used to argue when he was younger. you'd want barbie swan lake or a romcom while he prefered superheroes and action. he learned throughout your friendship to just not fight it.

you immediately start to tell rafe the latest gossip, filling him in on everything he's missed since you saw him last, even though it was only two days ago.

“oh and you'll never guess!” you squeal. “callie, my friend from florida?” you see if the name jogs rafes memory, which he quickly nods. how could he forget. the one other friend that competes with him, despite you only seeing her for weeks at a time when you went to visit your grandparents in florida. “she's coming to the outer banks! she's gonna stay with us for the summer while her parents travel.”

“oh, nice.” rafe nods. he's happy for you, he really is, but he hopes she's not going to get in the way of his time with you, especially pizza night.

“girl, why didn’t you tell me rafe is hot as fuck?” callie giggles, looking out the window where rafe and a couple of his friends are chatting on the patio.

“ew.” you scrunch your nose up. you mean the criticism about callie finding him attractive, not about rafes looks, but callie doesn’t take it that way as she rolls her eyes.

“seriously, he’s so fine.” she slices into another lemon, handing one half to you as you squeeze it to make fresh lemonade.

you just frown. you don’t want callie to find rafe attractive and you’re not sure why the jealous feeling builds in your gut, so you quickly change the subject.

“wanna come to a party friday night? at kelces.” you question.

“oh my god, yes.” callie nods, helping you carry out cups while you bring out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring a glass for yourself and whichever one of your friends also wants one before sitting next to rafe.

callie takes the open spot on the other side of him as the conversation instantly strikes back up. you remain quieter than normal, eyes flicking between them as you watch them interact. you’re glad they’re getting along, truly, but you feel like gouging your eyes out when callie laughs and places her hand on his bicep.

“you okay?” rafe asks after everyone else had gone home, callie having taken your car back to your place to shower while you plan on asking rafe to drive you home.

“yeah.” you put on a wide smile. “whats up?”

“you just seem quieter than usual.” rafe watches your face carefully, noting the way your face falls before you perk back up with a shake of your head.

“nope, im fine. just glad you're getting along with callie!”

“speaking of…” rafe pulls his phone out, handing it to you. “can i have her number?”

“oh… yeah.” you nod quickly, grabbing his phone and typing in her number. you have it memorized along with rafes and your mom and dads, the only ones you’ve typed in enough to know by heart. “why do you want it though?”

“i thought i’d get to know her a bit.” rafe shrugs.

“okay.” you force a smile on your face before standing up. “im gonna walk home. see you thursday for pizza night!”

“y/n, wait-” rafe tries to call you back, but you’ve already disappeared into the house.

you struggle to knock on the door with the pizza boxes in your arms. usually its unlocked, or rafe is there to open it for you the second your car pulls in the driveway.

“shit.” rafe opens the door, his face pale.

“what?” you shove past him, needing to set the cardboard boxes down.

you walk into the kitchen, going to place the boxes down on the counter when you realize there is already a box sitting there, opened up with a couple slices missing. you carefully slide the boxes out of your arms onto the marble before looking at rafe.

“i-i forgot-” rafe says as you look into the living room, seeing callie sat on the couch, her eyes on the television screen as she takes a bite of pizza.

“you forgot about our pizza night?” you question, not even trying to hide your tears this time as they form in your eyes.

“i just didn’t realize it was thursday, y/n i-”

“its fine.” you shake your head, heading towards the door. you need to leave before your emotions explode.

“y/n, please.” rafe grabs your hand right as you reach for the doorknob.

“no.” you turn around to look at rafe, knowing that there are tears streaming down your cheeks, yet you still attempt to force a smile. “no, go. have fun with her.”

you pull out of his grasp and leave, rafe standing on the front porch watching you drive away.

“coming to the party?” callie asks, wearing a tiny dress with high heels, showing off her flawless legs.

“nah.” you shake your head. “im feeling kinda tired.”

“alright.” callie frowns, but doesn’t push you any farther as she walks towards the front door, looking back once before leaving.

you are genuinely tired. you stayed up all last night waiting to hear callie arrive back at your house from rafes. she didn’t get home until 10 in the morning the next day. you know rafe has slept with girls before, but usually when he’s way too drunk after a party, and never with a girl you considered your friend.

you turn the tv on to a random channel, just needing something to distract yourself and stop you from crying again.

hours tick by as the sun sets, your eyes burning from staring at the television and holding back tears when a sudden knock on the door makes you jump.

you stand up, hoping its rafe, hoping he’s coming to apologize and to put all his attention back on you. you feel bad when you open the door and see its topper, your face no doubt giving away your disappointment.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asks. “you aren’t at the party.” he states the obvious as you stand in your sweatpants and a flimsy tanktop.

“just not feeling it.” you shrug.

“is it… callie and rafe?” topper asks. he doesn’t need you to confirm as tears well in your eyes.

“i-i like him. i didn’t even realize until i saw them together.” you finally admit it to yourself why you’re so upset.

“shit.” topper pulls you into a hug as you cry into his shirt, glad for his comfort as he rubs his hand up and down your back, hoping he can help you feel better.

“i shouldn’t be telling you this…” topper sighs. “but kelce has a crush on you. if you want to go to the party and… i don’t know, make rafe jealous back.”

“he won’t get jealous.” you shake your head. “he likes her.”

topper just stares at you with a look of pity. so in your head about your friendship that you can’t even put together the pieces that rafe likes you back.

you look down at your outfit. honestly, you can’t even manage to put on anything other than your crocs, you’re not going to change into a dress and heels just to dance up on a guy you don’t even really like.

“just come wearing that.” topper says, sensing your apprehension. “im serious, you look good. it’ll show how different you are then all the other girls there.”

you look back into your house at your couch, the tv still turned on before looking back to topper. he nods at you with encouragement.

“i need to get drunk immediately.” you tell him as he laughs, pulling you out the door.

you let out a groan as you turn over, snuggling into water warm body is wrapped around you as sleep slowly clears from your head.

“good morning, beautiful.” kelce says, making you blink your eyes open as the memories of last night come back, of ignoring rafe and callie dancing together as you move to kelce. topper was beyond right about the outfit as you captured the eye of most of the guys there, especially rafe as he tried to get your attention, but you were up in kelces room before he could steal you away.

it felt good to sleep with kelce, but not completely right.

“morning.” you smile. kelce is handsome, especially with the warm morning light shining in on the two of you, but your heart hurts as you wish it was rafes face you were looking into.

“can i have you again?” kelce asks, reaching down to grab your ass.

“yeah.” you nod with a smile. another distraction won’t hurt.

“where were you?” rafe asks as you arrive home, not expecting to see him snuggled up to callie on the couch.

“sleeping with kelce.” you say with a shrug. if rafe isn’t gonna hide his relationship with callie, you certainly aren’t going to hide what you were doing either.

“he doesn’t care about you, y/n.” rafe stands up, callies face shifting to one of worry as she looks between the two of you, realization sinking in. “he just wants to sleep with you.”

“okay, and?” you laugh, a bitter, spiteful laugh. “he’s got a big dick, and maybe i just wanted to sleep with him too.”

you stomp away towards your room, blaring music from your speaker the second you’re inside. you don’t want to hear any noise rafe and callie might make as you flop down on your bed, quickly falling asleep despite the blaring music.

the music being turned down wakes you up as someone sits on your bed. you groan and turn onto your back, expecting to see rafe.

“callie?” you question, glancing at the bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase sitting in your open doorway.

you sit up quickly. “are you going to stay with rafe?”

“no.” she says with a gentle laugh and shake of her head. “im going back to florida.”

“what?” you question.

“i didn’t mean to come between you and him. i thought you didn’t like him. i… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, so i’m leaving. he was fun to be with, but it was never serious for either of us. he’s serious about you.”

the words sink in as you look to her with hope in your eyes. “you talked to him about it?”

“i did.” she smiles with a gentle nod, glancing towards the clock on your nightstand. “the taxi is waiting outside to take me to the airport.”

you shoot forward to wrap your arms around callie, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you.”

“of course.” she holds you back just as tight. “come visit me in florida, okay?”

you nod enthusiastically before she gets up to leave.

“finally.” topper sighs with relief as he opens the door to tanneyhill. “i’ve been trying to get him to go over and talk to you for the past four hours.” topper pulls you inside before you can even react. “seriously, you guys just need to date already. he slept with callie, you slept with kelce, and now you’re even. go make out.” topper shoves you into the living room before fleeing.

it takes a second for rafe to look up, his eyes red with tears.

“i had no clue.” rafe shakes his head. “i had no clue you liked me. i never would have done anything with callie if i knew. i thought i’d never get to have you, so i thought settling for your friend would be the next best thing.”

“i don’t like you.” you say before quickly clarifying. “i love you, rafe.”

rafe is standing and making his way towards you so quickly that you don’t even process his movements until his lips meet yours in a fierce kiss.

you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tight to him, not allowing you to escape or leave ever again.

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verstappen-cult · 2 months

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# WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I WENT TO TOUCH YOU NOW? | CL16

Or. . . 5 times you and Charles reach for the other and are oblivious about it + 1 time you aren’t.

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Content Warnings: Smut, fingering, unprotected sex. Just two oblivious in love. This one is long, so, prepare yourself, go grab a cup of coffee and a snack. I haven’t written smut in a very long time so don’t expect anything fancy and please be nice. Enjoy! xx

You and Charles can’t keep your hands to yourselves. Everyone can see that. Everyone but you two.

Charles is always reaching for you. He’s the first one leaning in to kiss your cheek as a greeting when you see each other, lingering for a couple of seconds with his cheek against yours, feeling your soft skin, with his hand squeezing your waist ever so slightly. When you are out with your friends he’s always trying to sit by your side, waiting for the right moment to put his arm in the back of your chair, fingers brushing your shoulder and keeping up with the conversation as if nothing is happening. Charles tries to be smooth about it, he really tries.

And you are always reaching for Charles. Well, as his Press Officer it’s your job to be by his side. When you need him to pay attention to you as you’re explaining the plan for the day, you make sure to grab him by his biceps, not letting him go until you are finished, and even then you take a couple of seconds to pull away. Every time you pass each other around the paddock, you always find a way to catch his arm, his shoulder or his waist. Even when he’s too busy and late to something and you don’t actually need him for anything, he makes time for you.

But it wasn’t always like that.

There was a time when you would not even dare to think about touching him, too shy and wanting to be professional. It was a little hard when you had to be by his side almost all day, every day. You would try to not look directly at him – impossible to do given that you needed to do your job – but then Charles started to make a few jokes to break the ice and make some conversation, started to ask about your day, he started to care. And, well, the rest is history.

New Year’s isn’t your favorite holiday, so, you spent it at home watching romcoms and went to sleep even before the clock hit midnight. Your friends weren’t happy but you promised to make it up to them. That is why you could not say no when your friends invited you to spend a few days with them on a Ski resort in Italy. Winter break was about to be over, after all. So, you showed up at the train station with all your bags and a little sleep deprived.

“I was about to call the police. I thought you were bailing on us.” Your friend says as a greeting, helping you with your bags. “You look like shit.”

“Oh, thank you, how sweet of you.” You roll your eyes but let her kiss your cheek. “I’ve been a little busy with the new season starting in a couple of weeks.”

“Let’s not talk about work,” You get on the train after her, looking for your seats and the rest of the group. “we actually told the same thing to Charles.”

You’re about to ask her what does she mean by that when you see the brown hair of Charles Leclerc. The next thing you see is his smile, dimples on display.

Since you started working with Charles as Media — then when you were promoted to PR Officer — there has not been a day you two haven't been together or communicating one way or another. So, anyone can say that becoming friends was bound to happen.

You make your way to him without a second thought.

"Hey, Charlie." Charles moves to the side, leaving the spot beside him free for you to sit. Which you immediately do.

"Are you excited?" He asks, turning his whole attention to you.

You have to look away, his green eyes looking at you so intensely that you feel he can see right through you into your soul.

"I've never skied before." You admit, cheeks flushed.

Charles' eyebrows shot up, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "Oh, you're gonna have so much fun."

The train starts moving, making you both look outside. You weren't planning on sitting with Charles, but you're not gonna stand up and leave him. Not that you actually want that.

You're about to ask him about the place you're going to spend the next days in when a yawn messes up everything.

Charles smiles softly at you, his hand patting your knee. He leaves it there for one, two, three, four seconds before removing it.

"It's not that far, really. But you could—" He clears his throat, eyes darting around. "I've been told my shoulder is the best spot to take a nap. It’s like very comfortable." Charles has a teasing but shy smile on his face, gaze finally landing on you.

You feel your face burning. You don't even need to look at yourself in a mirror to know how red your face is, probably the same color as his racing suit.

You look between his shoulder and his eyes, pretending to think about it when, in reality, you've made up your mind the second he stopped talking.

"I don't wa—"

Charles shakes his head, moving a little closer until your left side is touching his right one, not a breeze could pass between you.

You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers as you let your head rest on his shoulder. His scent hits you immediately, is calming, warm, earthy. And it reminds you of the cabin in the woods you and your family used to spend winters in when you were a kid. Surrounded by tall, green trees and a still lake.

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is Charles resting his head on top of yours.

"I can't do it. No, nope." You say, trying to move away, but the skis don't let you go that far.

"Yes, you can." Charles says from behind, startling you. You weren't expecting him to stay behind with you and your Ski instructor. "Just— let me." He tells the instructor, urging him to move out of the way.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m teaching you the basics,” He explains casually, as if you don’t have a certified instructor waiting a few meters away.

You smile when he positions himself by your side, too busy trying to make you stand correctly to notice how fondly you're looking at him.

"So, you need to bend your knees a little," You don't know if he notices, but his hands finding your waist to help you move just like he wants you to, send a shiver down your body. You can feel his warmth even through the layers of clothes. "Just like that, yes. You're doing great." Can he shut up? If he's going to praise you every time you do something right, you're not going to survive.

You look over your shoulder when you hear your friend's voices. You catch the exact moment they see you two and stop walking to turn around and go back to where they were before.

"Now, lean forward." Charles instructs you and you follow. Trying to regulate your breathing but with Charles so close to you is an impossible task. "Amazing!" You just leaned. It’s not that hard. "I need to— um... excuse me." He whispers, lowering one of his hand to your thigh and spreading your legs a little. When Charles looks up, his cheeks are tinted with a pretty pink color. You know you're blushing too.

Charles keeps on teaching you the basics. You even move a few meters with him by your side, his hands on your waist at all times.

"You're ready." The Monégasque says, smiling. "You are a fast learner, is she not?" From the first time in what feels like a lifetime, he asks the instructor, who is immediately moving closer.

"Of course," The man says, a polite smile directed at you. "Now we can slide down the mountain. And I'm going to be by your side at all times, so, you don’t need to worry."

You nod, excited to start skiing. Finally.

"You can go, Mr. Leclerc." The Italian man says. But Charles doesn’t move, he just keeps on looking at you, hands still on your waist. At this point you feel like they belong there. “Uh, Mr. Leclerc?” He insists. This time Charles looks at him, shaking his head to rearrange his thoughts. “If you want to go, I’ll take care of her.”

“Oh, yes! Sure, yeah.” Charles pulls away, leaving the ghost of his touch behind. “You’re gonna be alright?”

“I’m sure I’ll survive, Charlie.” He makes you chuckle. “I had a pretty good instructor and I have another one ready to catch me if I fall.”

It looks like Charles wants to say something else but chooses not to and, instead, looks at you one final time before sliding down the mountain.

“So, let’s go?” Your instructor positions himself by your side in the same spot Charles was before.

He doesn’t touch you like Charles did. And you don’t feel as safe as you felt with Charles by your side.

It’s Ferrari SF-24 Launch day. Winter's break is over and Charles is back in Maranello.

Charles hasn’t seen you since yesterday evening, after spotting you having dinner with members of the PR team and, without thinking so much about it, walked into the restaurant. Someone invited him and he didn't hesitate to grab a chair and sit by your side.

It was a very pleasant dinner. And Charles didn't let anyone pay for it.

You said your goodbyes after that and you made sure to remind him that he needed to be before 8:00 AM for the launch, and to have time to go over all the details of what Charles needed to do that day.

That’s most definitely the only explanation as to why Charles is getting out of his car at 7:15 in the morning. Not because he wants to see you, of course not. It’s just because he has a lot of things to do. It’s an important day, after all.

“Good morning.” Charles greets some people of the team that are passing by, rushing to get everything ready for the launch in less than an hour.

He’s in a good mood. He just knows it’s going to be a great day. Charles also knows it’s gonna be his year.

"You're early."

Charles turns around at the sound of your voice. He finds you checking the time on your watch, a teasing smile adorning those plump, pink lips of yours.

"You said before eight."

You laugh, walking down the hallway. "Yeah, but not so early." He follows you, trying to catch up with you. "However, I'm glad you decided to show up on time, we have a lot to do."

"I wanna go back to sleep." He complains, pouting like a child.

He makes you laugh, again. Charles thinks your laugh is his favorite sound in the world. Beside the sound of the SF-24.

Charles really likes to make you laugh.

"Wait, are you laughing at me?" He pretends to be offended, and you mimic the sound of his voice, bringing your hand to your chest.

"Me? Never!"

"You sure?" He stops walking, stopping right in front of you. "Because you know what I'm gonna do if you're actually laughing at me?"

You look at him suspiciously, fighting the smile that wants to make its way into your face.

Charles takes a step towards you, making you take a step back.

"Charles, whatever you're thinking—don't."

"What? I'm not doing anything!" He sounds innocent, even raising his hands in surrender. But he's still walking towards you, shortening the distance until he's so close you can count the freckles on his face.

Before you notice what's happening, he's tickling you.

It makes you throw all the things you had on your hands to the floor. You try to pull away and make him stop, but he just keeps going.

Your laugh fills the hallway you're currently in.

But you can't take it anymore, your stomach hurting for laughing so much. It’s also only a matter of time before someone comes to see what's happenig, so, you do the only thing your brain can conjure up to make him stop: hit him. Even if it's just a little push.

You raise your arms, ready to push him and defend yourself. But Charles reflexes are good and so fast, because before you can do anything, he's grabbing your wrists stopping you.

Your laugh dies in your throat.

Charles amusement is clear on his face, eyes shining with mirth.

"You are," You take a deep breath, trying to regulate your rapid breathing. "a very bad man."

He laughs, throwing his head backwards. "I'm just defending my honor, boss."

You shake your head, throwing daggers at him with your eyes. But Charles doesn’t react at all, he just caresses the inside of your wrists with his thumb.

“I promise to behave if you don’t laugh at me again.” He pouts, and your heart does a black flip inside your chest, skipping several beats.

Hesitantly, you reach out to rest a hand on his chest, giving him a little playful push. You’re not sure if you imagine the shiver you feel under your hand or if it really happens.

You chuckle, looking straight into his eyes. “I can’t make that promise.”

Charles lets go of your wrists against his will. He bends over to pick up the things you were carrying, but doesn’t give them back to you.

“If we end up getting scolded, I’m blaming you.”

Charles looks at you for what feels like hours, taking you in. He really thinks he could just watch you all day and he’d find a new freckle on your face, or a glint in your eyes he hadn’t seen before.

He leans in, so, so close, that feels your breath hitch. Charles thinks you’re gonna pull away for a second but you don’t make a move, you just keep looking at him with a indescribable expression.

“You can do whatever you want. I’ll take it.” He says in your ear, kissing your cheek before pulling away.

You stop breathing, all you can do is blink at him while your mind echoes his words.

“Shall we?”

Charles doesn’t wait for you, he resumes his walking anyway. It takes you a long time to snap out of it and follow him.

You can’t even remember what you are supposed to be doing today.

It’s day two of pre-season testing in Bahrain.

You’re in the middle of talking with a reporter about the questions he can ask Charles when you are interrupted by a hand being placed on your lower back. You immediately recognize the perfume.

"Hey, I was looking for you." Charles says, fingers caressing the spot between your shirt and your trousers. His calloused hand drawing patters on your lower back shouldn't make you feel as flustered as you feel. It's not the first time he does it, so why can't you just act normal?

"Hey, Charles." The reporter says, drawing the Monégasque's attention. "Can I ask you just a few questions about second day of testing?" He doesn't need to ask him, you already agreed about it.

Charles look at you, silently asking if it's okay.

"Just testing, okay?" You tell the reporter, who nods in understanding, already moving in front of Charles alongside his camera man.

Charles squeezes your waist before giving two pats on your lower back, so low that he's almost touching your ass. You eyes widen and you take a sharp intake of breath. You really try to play it cool. But you can tell Charles noticed your reaction when you see the smirk on his beautiful, stupid face.

The reporter begins with the first question, Charles' eyes only snapping to him when the man draws his attention.

You don't listen to one single question, which is, you know, an idiotic mistake because being alert of what a reporter's asking is basically your job. But you find yourself looking at Charles' lips more than one time during the six minutes the interview lasts.

You can't do nothing more than to stand there frozen in place.

The reporter thanks Charles, that much you hear, but you still can't seem to snap back to the present. What is Charles doing? He's being extra touchy lately, not that it bothers you, but you can't seem to focus in anything when he has a hand on any part of your body. Then, add that intense gaze that, apparently, has reserved for you only.

Charles is definitely going to be the death of you.

"You seem to have your head in the clouds." Charles' accented voice is what draws you back to reality.

"What?"

What he does next is definitely something you were not expecting, not now, not even in a million years.

Charles cups your chin with his right hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip. If you weren't hyper aware of every little movement, you wouldn't have felt it.

Your gaze drops to his lips and Charles has the nerve to stick his tongue out to lick his lips. They look so wet and inviting, all you need to do is move an inch closer and lean in to—

"See something you like?"

You feel your heartbeat in your ears, so loud you're pretty sure everyone in Bahrain can hear it. Charles waits for your answer as you panic, replaying his words over, and over again for minutes or hours — you don't even know.

You take Charles' hand and guide it away from your face. It takes all the willpower inside of you to let go of his hand and run away from him.

It wasn't a great start of the season. Everyone agrees on that. Even the boy stepping out of the Ferrari, who started the first race of the season in front row and had such a hard time trying to drive and secure a spot on the podium.

You are glad at least one Ferrari got there in the end. But you're not as happy as you'd be if Charles was the one standing there.

Charles takes his helmet and balaclava off, his messy hair standing in every direction while sweat runs down his face. You force yourself to look away.

He makes his way to you, given that you have his cap and rings. Charles really tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You know how disappointed he is. With himself and his team. Mostly with himself.

“Just a few questions and then you’ll be on your way to the hotel, okay?” Charles just nods, busy putting all his rings and bracelets on.

Charles feels like shit. All he wants to do is go back to the hotel and sleep, he doesn't even want to know what happened or how they can fix it for next week. He wants to sleep.

"Hey," You stand a little closer, not thinking about anything but trying to make him talk, say anything to pull him out of his head. "It's just the first race of the season. There are a lot more to go." You rub the back of his neck, feeling the hairs there stand up.

Charles closes his eyes and lets his head fall forward. So, you take it as a good sing to keep rubbing and massaging.

Charles groans when you rub between his neck and shoulder, a very sensitive spot for him. He slowly opens his eyes again, looking at you from beneath his eyelashes.

"Come on, let's finish with this and get you to bed." You tentatively slide your hand over his shoulder and left side of his body, stopping at his waist to wrap an arm around it.

For the first time since the race finished, you see a smile forming on his lips. When you make eye contact, you know he has the perfect answer for it and, for the looks of it, it's definitely going to leave you flustered.

"If you wanted me in your bed that badly, all you had to do was ask."

It definitely makes you flush furiously, but you decide not to say anything. Mostly because you don't know what to say. Charles has been saying all these things for a very long time now and you don't know what it means, what he's playing at.

You let go of Charles when you reach the reporter, moving a little to the side to give them some space. The reporter knows what to ask but you still are on high alert, she's known for asking rude and out of place questions.

At first everything goes alright, so, you use that time to answer some messages and check out some emails. Until what the woman says next, makes your heart drop.

"You say you are capable, but it is your fault alm—" You don't let her finish, you interrupt the interview immediately by standing in front of Charles, like trying to shield him from the hurtful words of an unprofessional reporter.

"I'll make sure you receive a fine for that." It's all you say before blindly reaching for Charles.

You take his hand, dragging him out of there. You don't stop for nothing, not when a reporter asks for an interview, not when fans approach Charles to ask for pictures.

You keep walking and walking until you are in front of Charles' driver room. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"I'm going to talk to—"

Charles grabs your shoulders, turning you around so you're looking at him. "Don't worry about it. You know I don't care about what they say."

His words make you angry.

"But I care!" You exclaim, immediately regretting it. The corners of Charles' mouth go downwards, and he steps closer. "She deserves that fine."

"I know she deserves it and she will get it," His hands trail over your arms, stopping at your wrists for a second before holding your hands. "but right now I need a hug."

You blink up at him.

"Would you hug me?"

He doesn't need to ask twice. You are moving before you actually process his words, probably because you've been thinking about hugging him since the first time he announced over the radio how the brakes where not responding to him.

Sliding your hand around his shoulders comes like a second nature to you, like is something you've done your whole life. You don't care that he's drenched in sweat, you hide your face in the crook of his neck anyways. And it's then that you learn how much you like the mixture of his scent with the sweat of racing for over two hours.

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against his body. It's then that he learns how well you fit against his body. Like you belong there. He knows you belong in his arms.

Charles finished third.

It's his first podium of the season.

You wait by the side but he doesn't see you. He has the most pretty and bright smile on his face as he removes the balaclava from his head. He has the most pretty and bright smile when he greets and congratulates Max and Checo.

And you really think that his smiles widens when he finally looks to the side, right where you are alongside his Ferrari team.

Charles makes his way to his team. Everyone is so happy cheering for him and congratulating him for his first podium. Everyone is happy.

But no one can't he as happy as you are.

Not when he sees you for the first time and rushes to hug you. It's quick, not enough, but they're pulling him away for the post-race interview. He needs to go up on that podium and make everyone proud.

You’re pretty sure you took like a dozen pictures of Charles on the podium. The ones where he's looking down at his team are your favorites because it looks like he's looking at you.

Post-race Charles is your favorite kind of Charles. But post-race Charles on the podium... that has to be what being in heaven feels like.

You laugh as you see him approaching hospitality with his trophy and champagne, and a broad smile spread over his face.

He's surrounded by people in a matter of seconds, as wells as Ollie by his side who can't seem to stop smiling. You're very proud of them.

When you see a few reporters approaching, you take into action.

The second Charles sees you, he's forgetting about anything and everyone around him. All he wants is to hug you and tell you how well and right it felt, but there are so many people that he has to settle with you grabbing the hem of his race suit to make him walk into hospitality, away from everyone.

"Go take a shower. Your team wants to celebrate, even Carlos wants to go." You smile up at him.

You don't know how to describe the expression on his face, so, you simply don't.

He snaps out of a his trance and makes his way to his driver room, but when you call his name he stops, turning around so fast that his neck starts to hurt.

"I'm so proud of you, Charlie."

Charles doesn't care if the trophy or the champagne bottle breaks, he just let them fall to the floor and runs to you, lifting you in his arms.

You giggle, feeling light as a feather. Like you're actually on cloud nine.

"Charlie!" Andrea's voice startles the both of you.

You are forced to pull away, but Charles leaves his hand on your waist, not letting you go completely.

"Come on, hurry up! We want to celebrate."

Andrea doesn't bat an eye, he doesn't care that he found you and Charles in a compromising position — kind of? well, it definitely is unprofessional — and that you still are very close to each other.

Charles groans and lets you go. You miss his touch already.

"Don't drink too much, okay?"

"As if I would let him." Andrea says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm a grown man!" Charles screams before shutting the door of his room.

You're watching a movie in bed — wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, freshly out of the shower, with a delicious lotion on your body and feeling like a pampered baby — when there's a knock on your door.

When you open the door, you find a disheveled and out of breathe Charles standing there, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Charles?" You ask, confused.

You look to both sides of the hallway but nobody else is there.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out celebrating."

"I was—" He says, breathing heavily. "I was but then I just — I realized that I didn't want to be there."

"Okay?" You're not getting any of what he's saying, more confused than ever. "Are you drunk?"

"No! I barely drank anything. It was just a glass."

"Then," You shrug, looking behind you into the room. "I was watching a movie. Do you... want to come in?"

You still don't know why he knocked on your door, but you are not letting him out in the hallway.

Charles accepts the invitation. Just not in the way you would've thought.

It takes you a second to notice a pair soft lips against your own. But when you finally register that you are being kissed, Charles is pulling away from you, a shy smile on his face.

"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to find some coherent words in your fuzzy brain.

Charles' face falls, shoulder slumping slightly. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." He starts rambling, moving his hands in the air. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking properly. I thought—we had, I mean... You and—"

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to take him out of his misery. That's definitely the only reason why you crashed your lips with his, pressing yourself against his body.

Charles moves quickly, walking you backwards into the room and closing the door with his foot.

You sigh into the kiss. A sigh that says finally.

"I think," You whisper against his lips, gasping for air. But Charles keeps on assaulting your lips. "we should talk ab—"

Charles groans pulling away, just enough to talk, lips brushing against yours with every breath. "We could. Or I could show you all the things I've been dreaming on doing to you, and we can talk later."

Your heart starts thumping so fast that your breath hitches in your throat. Charles takes your silence, and your body's reaction, as a yes.

This time, Charles takes his time. He cups your cheek with one hand, thumb caressing your cheekbone so softly — as if you’re made of glass and could break at any moment — and sliding lower, the pad of his finger brushing against your bottom lip.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers, gaze fixed on your plump lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since…” You try try to think about it, to remember the very first time you thought about Charles being more than a friend. But it seems like it has always been that way.

“Forever.” Charles finishes for you.

Yes! Your insides scream.

“Would you let me show you?”

You frown, titling your hear to the side. “What?”

“How much I want you.”

There’s no need to verbally say yes, you find that is so much better if you show him. So, you kiss him.

Kissing Charles feels like walking in a soft, pillowy cloud, like everything is falling back into place, like things are how they always should have been.

There is warmth blossoming in your chest, fireworks exploding all around you as Charles leans in closer, lips exploring each other for the first time. You hold onto Charles' shoulder as if you're gonna fall and wake up, realize that this was just a dream. You don't want it to be a dream.

You let him guide you to the bed as his hands rest on your hips, wrinkling the bathrobe with his hands.

His lips are soft yet the kiss is demanding. Your lips part slightly, allowing Charles' tongue to slip inside and explore your mouth.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he pulls away. His pupils are dilated and his breathing erratic. "You don't—" He sighs, closing his eyes as if trying and ground himself. Charles takes your hand, silently asking for permission and, when you nod, guides it to his crotch, making you feel how hard he is. "You don't even know the effect you have on me."

Charles doesn't give you time to answer, not even to think about anything but how much you want to kiss him, and feel him, and be his.

"Can I unfasten this?" He asks, lips trailing kisses down your neck. You nod your approval, but Charles shakes his head. "I need words, baby."

"Yes," You don't recognize your own voice, it's feels strange to your ears. "Yes, you can."

Charles smiles, grazing his teeth along your neck, nipping and sucking along the way. You moan when he sucks right above your pulse point.

He takes his time unfastening your bathrobe, letting it fall slowly the floor. In seconds, you're completely bare in front of him. You should feel ashamed, a part of you actually feels embarrassed to be naked in front on a man — in front of Charles. But right now, desire and longing are coursing through your veins, clouding your mind. Your body screams for Charles.

Charles hands are soft on your skin, he splays them on your chest, feeling the thumping of your heart; it makes him smile.

"Would you lay down for me?" He purrs. And who are you to say no?

With shaky legs you climb onto the bed, lying down against the pillows. You can still hear the movie playing in the background, but you couldn't care less, not right now.

You can only watch as Charles removes every piece of clothing from his body. You knew Charles was well toned, you have seen Charles without a shirt, but seeing him here in your room, in a whole different context, makes you close your legs and lift your hips from the bed, searching for something, anything that only Charles can give you.

He rubs his hands up your legs, rubbing your thighs, as he climbs on top of you. His lips find yours one more time, your breath quivering.

"So pretty." Charles grunts, basking in your beauty. It lasts only a couple of seconds because you hide behind your hands. "No need to hide, baby." He pulls your hands away, sliding them over your collarbone, stopping on your chest and grabbing your breasts.

You arch your back against his touch, moans spilling from your mouth and filling the room.

"So good, so, so good." You blurt out, getting lost in the pleasure his hands are giving you, pinching and squeezing your breasts. One of his hands is replaced for his mouth, and you have to force yourself to open your eyes to see the view of Charles on top of you, making you come undone with his mouth.

His left hand leaves your breast as his mouth keeps the assault on your breast, he slowly lowers it to part your legs, making you squirm.

You've never been this wet before, and Charles notices the moment his fingers make contact with your cunt. Charles begins to rub circles on your throbbing clit, a desperate whine escaping your lips.

"Please," You beg, the only word leaving your lips over and over again.

Charles takes pity on you, knowing exactly what you need. So, he gives it to you; one of his fingers slips in, causing you to buck your hips involuntarily.

"So good for me." Charles croons, taking your lips with his own, swallowing all your moans. "You think you can take my cock, pretty girl?" He asks, slipping in another finger, pressing them upward. Your brain feels fuzzy, but in such a good way. You don't need to be asked twice, a yes leaves you lips immediately as you grind your hips desperately into his hand.

"I can, Charles—please I can take it." You moan, making Charles slow his movements.

Charles pulls out his fingers, and you whine desperately at the loss. "I got you, baby." But then a thought crosses his mind and he curses under his breath, closing his eyes for a second. "I don't—shit I don't have a condom."

You make grabby hands, making him lean forward so you can touch him. You cup his face with your hands, eyes finding his green ones. There's sweat on his forehead, his face flushed, and you think that post-race Charles and bedroom Charles are definitely battling to win first place.

"We're both clean, I know." You graze your fingers over his pecs, making him shudder. "Just—please, Charlie. I need you."

Who is he to say no to you?

The mere thought of fucking you bare is enough to send his mind reeling.

Charles aligns himself between your legs, the tip of his cock gathering your wetness and making you both moan at the feeling.

You dig your nails in his shoulder as he slowly starts to bury himself inside of you. Charles leans to kiss you, and is messy and wet, tongues and spit mix together as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling ever so slightly, which makes him moan against your mouth. So you do it again.

Charles kisses you with so much desperation, desire consuming you both. He bottoms out and you can't reciprocate the kiss anymore, not when he stars slamming his hips, setting an agonizing pace.

Charles fucks you into the bed wincing as he feels you bite his shoulder, a poor attempt of trying not to scream and let the whole hotel floor know what you are doing.

"How does it feel? Is that what you wanted, uh?" He groans, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty face.

"Yeah, feels so good, Char. So good." Your whole body is burning, you feel so deliciously filled.

Charles bends your legs, pushing them against your chest as he finds a new angle to keep on fucking you. He starts thrusting faster, holding onto your legs so hard you know there will be bruises tomorrow.

It's too much. You don't even have time nor words to warn him before you are coming, clenching around Charles' cock.

"So tight. So. Fucking. Tight." Charles whispers, pace faltering as he feels his own climax approaching. He keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm.

You are a moaning, whimpering mess, and you let Charles use you as much as he likes, you let it know that over and over again.

"That's it, baby. 'm gonna come now," Those are Charles' final words as he pulls out, pumping himself a few more times until he's painting your chest with his cum.

Charles plops down on the bed next to you, both panting and completely exhausted.

"Are you okay?" He asks in a hoarse voice.

You turn to look at him, fingers playing with his cum on your chest. The only thing you can do is nod, too exhausted to even to talk.

"What? Did I fuck your brains out?" Charles teases, leaning in to leave a chaste kiss to your lips. It's so innocent and soft, the total opposite of what you did just moments ago.

"Shut up!" You breathe out, giggling. There is still a buzzing in your ears and a tingling sensation in your cunt. But you feel good.

"Come on," He says, standing up and reaching for your hands.

You frown, standing on shaky legs. He teases you some more and you end up pushing him away.

"What are we doing?"

"Taking a bath," He explains, tugging at your hand. "We need to clean you up."

"I just took a shower, this is all your fault." You complain, his green eyes boring into you.

"You liked it." It's not a question.

He tugs at your hand again and you follow, you really would follow Charles to the end of the world. Charles can't hide the big, stupid smile on his face. "You said you were watching a movie, so, we are going to watch a movie."

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #f1 grid x reader

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fiona-my-love · 1 year

Note

I meant general relationship hcs! Can I request for hcs of what they’re like on a date when you're done with my request? Thanks!

What Stolas, Husk, Blitzo, and Alastor are like on dates

Of course! I’ll finish this first since it’s what I thought what you meant originally, so I already made some of it!!

Stolas

- Oh my! You want to go out with him? Well, then he might as well prepare an entire festival for you!!

- But in all seriousness, he’s quite over the top. But at the end of the day, he kind of prefers to stay indoors and just decorate.

- But it’s pretty 50/50, depends on his mood! He’ll either treat you to a fancy restaurant or just decorate his dining hall for you, and end the date off with you two heading to the bedroom. ifykyk

- Despite being a horny bastard, he’s quite the gentleman on dates!

- He’ll always be courteous to you, opening each door for you and paying the bill.

- He’s pretty good at giving compliments, you gotta admit. He knows just how to fluster you!

- But say anything back and he’s lovestruck, beet red, and turned on.

- He thinks you look absolutely ravishing, no matter what you wear! You’re his queen/king/royal, how could you not be stunning?

- Very good with small talk, but he can get burnt out if you don’t talk much. Just make sure to seem interested in him and you’ll have a great time!

Blitzo

- He’s.. quite creative, you have to admit!..

- His dates are rarely something as simple as getting lunch. Nono, he wants them to be memorable.

- So, what’s his idea of memorable? Hmm..

- Sneaking into a horse riding class on earth. Murder. Arson. Treason. Theft. Public indecency.

- So yeah.. have fun with that!

- But at the end of the day, one of his favorite things to do with you is just kick back, relax, order some food, and cuddle on the couch while watching shitty romcoms.

- He doesn’t really care what you guys do, honestly. You guys could literally be sky diving and he’d just be happy to be with you.

*LITERALLY FALLING FROM AN AIRPLANE THATS HUNDREDS OF FEET IN THE SKY*

“OH SHI- Hey, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

- But at the same time, he likes it when dates mean something.

- For example, murdering your ex together!

- But seriously, he loves to just spend time with you in places you went to when you were still in the crushing phase.

Alastor

- Oh boy! He’s quite the gentleman, he’ll take you anywhere you want! It’s not like anyone can turn him down!

- Loves dancing with you, he’d absolutely adore to go on a date where you two just dance to his favorite songs!

- He’s always dressed to the nines! And by that, I mean dressed to the 1900s!

- Not particularly a fan of newer fashion. But hey, he’d be more than happy to fetch you some clothing from his time period if you so wish!

- He spoils you absolutely rotten! You are his one and only, after all!

- Oh, what’s that darling? You’d like some dinner? Why, of course! He’d say, before going on a killing spree, on the search for the perfect meat. Only the finest for his beloved!

- Would absolutely melt if you cooked for him.

- He actually enjoys cooking with you! He’s pretty good at cooking, and by that I mean he’s good at cooking people.

- All in all, he’s a classy guy who likes to show his darling the finer parts of this afterlife!

Husk

- Let’s get one thing straight. He’s just not really all that romantic of a guy.

- But hey, if you want to go out, then who is he to deny you?

- He’d be more than happy to spend some of his hard-earned gambling money to treat you to a lovely dinner at the local bar.

- He’s gotta admit, he loves the way you get so happy whenever you go out together.

- And my god does he love to see you dressed up all fancy, just for him. As much as he is a grump, he’s really fell for you!

- If you go shopping together, he’ll act annoyed when he has to help carry your bags, but if you offer to carry them all by yourself he’d act like you’re asking too much of him.

- He also acts reluctant to spend money on you out of embarrassment, but he refuses to let you pay for anything.

- He may be a bit of a gentleman with you, but that doesn’t mean he’s gotta be happy about it!

- He really likes going to bars with you. Shots on him, obviously.

- To give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s really trying to be a gentleman, but don’t expect him to last more that an hour without getting blackout drunk.

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 1 month

Text

Third Place Poll

Propaganda...

Colonel Brandon (1995):

Alan Rickman has the sexiest voice. Just listen to him reading poetry to Marianne at the end to witness how hot he is.

Alan Rickman simply embodies the truth of Col. Brandon in a way that no one else every could. It's the perfect merging of actor and role. He brings the perfect combination of honor, decency, sensitivity and passion. He is the ultimate mensch.

youtube

Brandon propaganda in which even the film's director agrees that Brandon is sexy.

youtube

More Brandon propaganda! This photo could only be published in black and white because it would have been too powerful in color (the original color version is currently being used to provide electricity for a medium sized town in Devon. It's THAT powerful).

The brim of the hat falling over his eye. The casual lean. The hunting rifle slung across his leg. The puppy bestie. The fact you know he could row that boat while you watch and wish you were the boat.

youtube

From Emma Thompson's diaries which she kept while they were shooting Sense & Sensibility. Emma Thompson said vote Colonel Brandon.

youtube

The man has just heard her sing for a minute and he’s positively awestruck!

also adding his adorable adorable smile just bc i can.

Mr Knightley (2009):

Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST

We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma

GIF by dearemma

I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma

youtube

I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.

GIF by night-unfurls-its-splendour

Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:

What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)

64.media.tumblr.com

Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.

And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.

Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing

GIF by christophernolan

GIF by sashajames

GIF by christophernolan

I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!

Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.

no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!

He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.

Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!

A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!

GIF by myforeverworldofmovie

It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!

GIF by elinordash

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #third place poll #colonel brandon #mr knightley #emma 2009 #sense and sensibility 1995 #Alan rickman #jonny lee miller

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soobnny · 9 months

Text

ten things yang jeongin says when he thinks you’re asleep — fluff, established relationship, a bit of angst

one. i was thinking about you earlier. nothing in particular, just—who you are. and it made me wish i’d known you sooner. everything about my life right now is infinitely better now that you’re in it.

two. i’d give anything to stop time every moment that i’m with you.

three. i found my old diary when i went home today. i know, yes, i was an angsty teenage boy with a diary. i quickly went through it just to see what i wrote. ah, if you saw it, you’d definitely laugh. but… one entry caught my eye. it was from a few years ago and it was at a point of my life when i thought nobody could ever love me. not even in a romantic sense, just generally and i was praying to anyone who would listen that i’d find someone who’d understand. i’m glad i held on and didn’t break because a year later, i met you. funny how things turn out, right? i don’t even know why i’m telling you this. i just, i guess i just wanted to thank you for coming into my life. you’re the kind of person i always hoped i’d find.

four. i know i’m not the best at understanding emotions, but i feel them very deeply with you. please give me time. i promise i’ll get to know my feelings better.

five. seungmin told me earlier how i don’t say ‘i love you’ a lot. he’s right, but it’s only because i don’t want my expressions of love to be light. that’s why i don’t say it often because i don’t want it to be thrown around like that. i want to say it in important moments. but i find that i want to tell you that every day. i think it’s because every moment with you is important to me. so, please don’t think my words are empty when i say them too much. i promise it’s never light when i tell you i love you. i mean it. i mean it so much that sometimes it scares me.

six. do you know the exact moment i knew i was in love with you? i can still remember it clearly. it wasn’t anything crazy, in fact it was just an ordinary day. you were over at my dorm and we had been laughing at this romcom that just came out, and then i felt it. i felt it when i had looked at you, how i wouldn't mind doing this forever. i hope i can love you for the rest of my life.

seven. i always think back fondly of college because of you. it would've been hell if it wasn't with you.

eight. i was thinking earlier, about how fleeting life really is. i don't—i don't even know what triggered me to think about it. how someone could be alive one minute and then gone the next. i don't like that... i don't like how abrupt endings always are. i don't want any moment with you to be the last, god, i can't even bear the thought of losing you. ah, fuck, i'm crying. fuck, sorry. i just, please don't leave me. please don't let it happen to you. i know you have no control over it, but please, please, please. please.

nine. cheer up, darling. i know things don't look too good right now, but what if things just get better from now on? i promise that your efforts at healing are adding up, so just hold onto me for now. you will always have me to hold on to.

ten. you are the best thing that's ever been mine.

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signedkoko · 3 months

Text

Signed with Love - Helluva Cast

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Series Parts Hazbin Cast - Here! Overlords & Sins - Here!

Dear, Hey, Whats up

Oh what the hell, just be my valentine, we both know its about time I just fuckin ask.

I can't promise anything lavish, but what I do have is a kitchen and a comfortable couch. Maybe you can try showing me how to bake and we can eat what we make while watching some shitty romcoms.

Whatever makes you happy,

Oh come on, you know who wrote this.

Heeellloooooo!

I know you are usually the one to ask, but this year I wanted to change things up a little! Be my valentine?

While we could go somewhere crowded and wait forever for food, I thought maybe this year we could stay home, order a bunch of takeout, and spend time together?

And of course, I love you,

"Froggie"

Don't freak out,

I swear this isn't a ransom note, I just wasn't sure how else to ask you to be my valentine.

You know how we both wanted to go to the lovesick festival but ti was sold out? Well, don't ask how but I got tickets. Now we can go watch idiots get drunk and pass out in front of their girlfriends, and enjoy a bunch of our fav bands.

Outfit theme: Hot as fuck?

X Loona

Hi sweetie!

I know technically it's your turn for valentines this year, but I know you've been busy and I wanted to surprise you!

My parents called and told me they need someone to house sit while they are away for the week, so we could enjoy valentines on the ranch and I can show you my home! Especially the food and festivals I always tell you about.

Happy Valentines ❣

Millie

Hi dear ❣

Maybe it's getting old by now, but for yet another year I would love to have you as my valentine.

I don't know where I'd be without you, you make my hellish work at least a tad bit bearable and inspire me every day. I've already had to erase several rambles, so I'll save the rest of the sweet talk for the date. Just be ready in formal attire for 6, because we have a show to catch!

I'm sure you'll look amazing ❣

— Moxx

To the sweetest one I know,

I've been inspired by the books I've been reading to handwrite a letter to you, so you have something to keep for memory sake.

To have you by my side for another valentines is a dream come true, last year you pulled together such an amazing evening that I can only hope to outdo tonight. I would like to take you to see the stars, I know you've always asked and I believe it is about time.

Thank you for being mine,

Prince Stolas

Howdy darlin'

While originally I wasn't going to be home on time, I made sure to finish up this mission early so I can be there with ya for valentines. I'd call, but I know you swoon for romantic gestures, dontcha?

I'll handle all the details of our outing, just relax and don't worry your pretty head about a darn thing.

Can't wait to get home and see you again,

Who else?

Miss me?

I had to head out for a gig early, so sorry I couldn't catch you at the door before I left! I hope this note will suffice in the mean time.

Since I can't bring you, I have a limo headed to pick you up around five, that should give you time to get ready for the concert! Your pass is with the driver, and you've got front row seats, kay? I better see you cheering for me ❣

Happy valentines day,

Mayday 💋

Greetings, I say I say,

It's not everyday sheepish imps such as myself get such a heavenly opportunity to court a sweet thing like yourself!

For you, and you only my dear, I will spend such a lucritive holiday with my one and only. Should you accept, I am pleased to inform you that we have been invited to Ozzie's! Isn't he the kindest?

x x x x x x x

W. WACKFORD

Authors Note - Okay be honest with me WHO ARE WE ACCEPTING A LETTER FROM?? I gotta know,,, This is the last of the valentines series, I hope you all enjoyed!

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togrowoldinv · 4 months

Text

A True Love’s Kiss

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets brainwashed, it’s up to you to bring her back to her formal self. It’s not an easy task, but maybe your love for her is the key to unlocking her memories

Note: Woohoo Natasha. Just a fun (kinda angsty) little idea I came up with today. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

It’s a quiet morning as you run through the park. Memories of the last few years flash through your head, but you shake them away.

It’s been six months since you’ve heard from any of the Avengers. The so called ‘family’ left you out to dry the moment that things ended with you and Natasha.

In hindsight, it was a terrible idea to date the woman you worked with. But you knew you were in love with her and life felt too short to deny that.

You’re on the way back to your car when you sense it. A few moments later, two of your ‘old friends’ walk into your view.

“Y/n,” Steve begins. You don’t look at him.

“Come on, y/n. Look at us,” Clint adds.

“Why should I? I haven’t heard from any of you in months. All you did was side with Natasha,” you say bitterly.

“We’re sorry,” Steve says. You hate that it really seems like he means it. “Things got messy and we weren’t there for you.”

“Understatement of the century,” you remark.

You decide you’ve had enough of this. You move to open the car door but are stopped short by Clint’s next words.

“It’s Natasha,” Clint says. “She’s been compromised and we think the only person she’ll talk to is you.”

You sigh.

“And why do you think that?” You ask.

“We’ve tried everything. It’s our last idea,” Steve says. His tone has a sadness to it. “Will you come with us? Please. For Nat?”

You don’t reply, but you simply grab a bag of clothes from your car and walk closer to Steve and Clint. They’ll take that as a yes.

After walking to the quinjet, Clint takes the reins while Steve explains to you what happened to Natasha.

“She’s not herself. None of us have been able to stop her from these missions she’s been on,” he explains. “It seems like it could be the red room again. Like they’ve brainwashed her.”

“How did this even happen? How did she get that far out of reach in the first place?” You ask.

Steve hesitates to answer.

“Tell her,” Clint says.

“Tell me what?”

“Y/n, when you and Natasha broke up she went into hiding,” Steve says. “You never heard from us because we’ve been busy trying to find her. Now that we have, we have to figure out how to bring her in.”

“We found her in Russia,” Steve continues. “She’s good at what she does, you know that. But her heartbreak made her incredibly vulnerable. Even before she left the Avengers, her focus was somewhere else. Probably on how she broke your heart.”

“So this is my fault?” You wonder aloud. You don’t know if that makes you angry or sad. Maybe both.

“No,” Steve says. “It’s no one’s fault. Nat chose to leave.”

“But she’s not choosing to act like this,” Clint says. “I can tell. I can almost bring her out of it when I mention my family. And since she’s in love with you-“

“Was,” you correct him. “She was. Not anymore.”

“Right,” Clint says noncommittally. “We hope once she sees you, she’ll snap out of it.”

“So all of this is based on a hope?” You ask.

“Well, yeah,” Steve says.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. You stand up and push your way to the back of the jet to sit alone.

Truthfully, you’ve imagined reuniting with Natasha a million times. In your fantasy, she would show up at your door in the pouring rain with flowers and a romcom style apology for how she hurt you.

But this reuniting will be no romcom. You can tell from the way Steve can’t really meet your eyes that it’s bad. He cares for Natasha as deeply as you and Clint do. You can sense his fear. And Clint’s.

“We’re here,” Clint announces, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Where’s here?” You ask. You look out the front and notice the landscape is not the Avengers compound where you thought you were heading.

“There’s no time to prepare,” Steve says. “You can do this, y/n. Approach the house carefully and expect resistance. We’ll back you up but if Nat sees us we’re sure she’ll be quicker to turn against you.”

“Here’s coms,” Clint says, handing you a piece for your ear.

“Okay. Here goes nothing,” you say, taking a deep breath.

You step out of the quinjet and walk over one hundred paces to where Natasha is supposedly staying. As you expected, she doesn’t answer the front door when you knock.

Instead, you’re struck in the back of the knee. She effectively brings you down to the ground. Her legs straddle your waist. Your breath is taken away in more ways than one.

She looks beautiful yet sad. You try to shake off the fact that you’re seeing her for the first time in so long and focus on the way she’s crushing your ribs.

“Natasha,” you say.

“You don’t know me,” Nat says.

“I used to,” you answer. That throws her off briefly and you manage to squirm free. Natasha catches up fast and pins you against the door this time.

“What do you want?” Natasha asks. She feels an odd attraction to you. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help you,” you say.

Natasha punches the wall behind you and wraps her hand around your neck.

“Okay, you don’t like that answer,” you whimper out.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Natasha commands.

You bring your arm up to pull hers away from your throat but she doesn’t stop. You plead with her with your eyes and once again she hesitates long enough for you to slip away.

She pulls her gun on you, but waits to shoot. You hold your hands up in surrender. You try again to make her remember you.

“Natasha, please,” you beg for her to relent. “You know me and I know you. It’s me, y/n.”

She doesn’t appear to have any recollection, so you go deeper.

“You love peanut butter sandwiches,” you say. “And you secretly love M&Ms but only the red ones even though they all taste the same.”

“I-“

“And you get up every morning and go for a run not because you love running but because you like to see the world before it becomes too loud and unsteady,” you continue. “And you love me. Or at least, you used to.”

“I don’t- I’m not who you think I am,” Natasha says.

“Yes you are,” you argue back.

“I’m not,” she says. Her voice breaks. You feel like you’re making progress.

“Natasha, baby, please,” you say.

She’s fighting her internal turmoil. Her objective is to take down anyone in her way.

“Y/n, get out of there,” you hear Steve in your ear.

You don’t dare reply. She’ll shoot if she thinks she’s surrounded.

“You’re an Avenger,” you say. “You’re a friend. You’re a sister. You are an aunt to Clint’s kids. You’re the love of my life.”

Natasha’s hand shakes. She thinks she knows you, but she has a mission.

You look into her eyes as she aims at your chest. Steve and Clint run towards you knowing what’s about to happen but it’s too late.

Natasha fires the weapon and you feel a lot of pain before you feel absolutely nothing. Steve hits Nat with a tranquilizer before she can shoot him and Clint as well.

The next thing you remember is waking up in the medbay at the compound.

“Hey,” Steve greets you. “You’re okay.”

“Where’s Nat?” You ask, sitting up.

“She’s detained,” he says. “And asking for you.”

“What?”

“Welcome to the world again,” Tony interrupts as he enters the room. “Dr. Cho fixed your wound up perfectly as always.”

“Oh,” you say, remembering why you’re here. The ache in your shoulder becomes more noticeable when you try to move it. “I need to see her.”

“No can do, buckaroo,” Tony says. “We’ve got Hill in there talking to her.”

“You mean interrogating her,” you correct him.

“Maybe,” Tony replies. “But we need to know whose side she’s on now.”

“Steve, please you have to let me see her,” you say. “She recognized me. She just- she needed to continue her mission.”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “It’s too dangerous.”

“She already shot me,” you say dryly. “What else could happen?”

Steve relents. After a couple of hours of resting, you get dressed the best you can, putting your arm in a sling.

You approach the detainment area carefully. Natasha is sitting at a table with her hands cuffed to it when you enter.

“Take those off,” you instruct the guard.

“I’m not supposed-“

“Just do it,” you say.

“Ma’am-“

“Take them off,” Steve says over the intercom.

The guard complies and unlocks the cuffs. You frown at the way they’ve rubbed her wrists raw.

“Hey,” you say to Natasha.

“How’s your shoulder?” She asks.

“Fine. Why didn’t you shoot to kill me? I know you could’ve,” you say.

“So we’re jumping right in,” Nat remarks. “You said you know me and you told me facts that no one knows. I needed to talk to you more. I needed you alive.”

“Do you know me?” You ask.

“I don’t,” she says. You can’t help but frown. “But you do feel vaguely familiar.”

“You’ve had your memories of us taken from you,” you say. “Probably by the Red Room.”

“What did you just say?” Natasha asks. She stands up and pushes you against the wall.

“Nat,” you say. Your shoulder is throbbing.

“We’re coming in to help,” Steve says urgently.

“No wait! I can do this,” you shout. “Natasha please, you wouldn’t hurt me. Not again.”

“Stop acting like you know who I am!” She shouts. “How did you get that name? The Red Room? How did you know?”

“Because Natasha we dated for over a year,” you say. “You told me everything.”

“No,” she says. “I would- I would remember if I had loved you.”

“Natasha, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Stop,” she cries out. “Stop. You don’t- stop it.”

“I do. I love you. Please, I love you. Find yourself in me again, Nat,” you beg her.

Natasha’s eyes fill with tears. It’s beginning to click. You think of the last effort you can make to help her remember it all.

You lean toward her and pull her in for a hug. Your good arm goes around her waist and pulls her in. Natasha doesn’t hug you back but she doesn’t pull away either.

“Please, Natasha. I need you to come back to me,” you whimper into her neck.

It feels so familiar to her. Holding you in her arms as you bury your face into her neck, but she still can’t figure out who you are to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling away from your embrace. “I just don’t remember you.”

You nod in understanding. She doesn’t know why but she doesn’t flinch when you place your hands on the sides of her face. Her cheeks feel hot under your touch.

“Can I try?” You ask her. She gets what you mean.

“Okay,” she says.

You lean in and kiss her lips softly. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to make Natasha’s heart flutter. And yours too. Under different circumstances, it would be an amazing reunion kiss.

“Y/n?” She asks when you pull away. There’s a light of recognition in her eyes.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Detka,” she begins. You could cry at the pet name. “I don’t- are you okay? Shit, this is my fault.”

She tries to inspect your wound, but you just hug her again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so so sorry that I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I did when I broke your heart,” she says regretfully.

“Natasha-“

“Let me just,” she interrupts. “Let me apologize. I’m so sorry, y/n. I love you. I haven’t stopped. It’s just I got so protective of you that I couldn’t let you go on missions. I was holding you back.”

“You weren’t holding me back, Nat. I understand that you’re protective over me, but I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” she says. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Let’s go home, Natasha. We can talk about this over a cup of hot chocolate,” you suggest.

“Yeah. Let’s go home,” Nat says.

You both ignore the other Avenger’s requests that you stay at the compound and they evaluate Nat’s situation and your injury.

The hope of a true love’s kiss curing Natasha seems to be really true. Maybe fairytales are real. Maybe they’re not. But you both love each other and you were always meant to end up together again.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff angst #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark

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redclercs · 11 months

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iv. you and me would be a big conversation

— the one where both of you have big reputations.

warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"

[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞

IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.

No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?

Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.

→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.

→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?

May 13th, Los Angeles, California.

“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.

“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.

The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.

“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”

“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”

You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.

After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.

“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”

“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.

“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.

Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you’ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.

You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.

Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.

“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.

“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”

“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.

“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.

Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.

It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.

“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.

“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”

You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.

“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, Charles.”

He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.

“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.

You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.

“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”

Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.

“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”

“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.

YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.

It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.

"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."

You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.

The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.

─────────

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.

"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."

One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.

"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."

"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.

"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"

You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."

Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"

"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."

"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."

She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.

Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.

"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"

You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.

"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."

You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.

"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."

The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.

Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."

"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.

"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"

You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.

MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.

Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.

One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.

You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.

Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.

May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.

Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.

"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.

You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.

"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.

"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."

"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.

“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”

“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”

“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.

“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”

You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”

So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.

“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”

“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.

Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.

“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”

You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”

“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”

You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”

And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.

Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #cl16 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x you

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asunflowerana · 6 months

Text

episode one: prom is near, and your sweet, popular friend will do anything to have you as his date. (Yandere Series)

with: Gojo Satoru.

warnings: yandere behavior, slight blood mentions.

words: 1448.

"Go to prom with me." It's not what you'd expect to hear on a Tuesday morning, right after a wearing History class. Even more so coming from the mouth of no other than Gojo Satoru, the coolest, most desired boy in school.

Yes, you've been friends with him for almost a year. And yes, you get on very well together, crack some side-jokes at classes, sometimes go out to grab some food, do homework at the library, and even stay up at night until sunrise on the phone, freaking out while studying for a math exam that none of you knew about it — or not paying attention, to be more honest.

So yeah, you're friends. But it's Gojo Satoru we're talking about. And Gojo Satoru is just way out of anyone's league.

You're simply dumbfounded.

"I—" You swallow hard, feeling like you just lost your memory and no longer know how to complete sentences. You're feeling a lot of things, honestly, the guy you've had so many daydreams with saying he wants to have you as his partner, and there you are, a pile of nerves trying to hide the hard, loud way your heart beats inside.

And it's not that you don't want to accept it. Heck, you want to yes so badly, how many times did you catch yourself watching those sappy romcoms and wondering if you and the white-haired boy would make a fine couple like that. He's the whole package, and if those gorgeous blue eyes and jaw-dropping looks weren't enough, he's also so kind to you, that you can't help but develop a crush.

But as expected, he didn't catch only your attention, but the whole school as well. Kaya Nami, one of the troublemaker cheerleaders, is in the line and does everything she can to make sure nothing gets in her way.

"If I were you, I'd stay away from Satoru Gojo. You won't like having me as an enemy, believe me." She threatened you last Friday, right during PE class. Confused wasn't enough to describe how you felt, but you didn't say anything back to not cause drama, only nodding and watching her head off like nothing happened.

"...I'm sorry Satoru, but I can't." And unfortunately, that warning was enough to hinder you from making the choice you wanted.

It goes without saying how astounded Gojo was by your answer, that probably being his first time ever being rejected. "What do you mean 'you can't'?" And then his tone dropped an octave, changing to something more seething. "Did someone ask you? You said yesterday to me that you didn't get invited."

"And you're right, I didn't get." You try to reason, not liking the way he's bothered by your rejection. " it's just... I didn't think you wanted to go with me!" And you didn't lie, even though you said it more as an excuse.

"Well, now you know." He gets closer, almost making you hit your back at the locker behind you. His eyes say he didn't buy any of your excuses. "So, why you still can't? I mean, I know how unsettling my beauty can be, but you're just as pretty, sweetheart."

His mood suddenly changes to the usual Gojo Satoru, the cheeky guy who enjoys flustering you for fun. Grazing your chin between his index and thumb, he looks deep at you. "I'll give you the best time you ever had. Just be my date."

It takes everything on you to not jump in his arms and let yourself get swept off your feet. Why does he have to make this so difficult? Taking a deep breath, you remember the headache you're gonna get if you don't make the right choice. "Satoru, I'd love to be your date, really. It's just, I think there's someone else that would make a better date than me."

He stares at you with an unreadable expression. You don't know if he got angrier or had enough of your pitiful answers, but you wish you could be able to read only a fraction of Satoru's mind, cause he's staring for too long at you, and you don't know what else to say other than stare back at him.

Finally, he steps back, diverting his gaze to a random spot for a moment before moving to look at you again. Sliding his hands inside his pants pockets, he seems to accept the situation, but you're still not sure of what you see. "I guess you're not changing your mind, huh? Then tell me, who's this 'perfect match' that you think would be better for me?" He questions with a hint of disdain, but he tries to hide it with a small side smile.

The girl appears in the scene before you can mention her name as if she was waiting for the right opportunity to pounce and make her move on him. By the way your shoulders slump and your eyes lower to the ground, he quickly assumes that she's the person you were talking about earlier and that for some reason, she's making you very uncomfortable. Not you nor Nami noticed the way Gojo glowers at a blank spot. Thinking, he mindlessly accepts the blond girl's invitation to lunch, giving you a brief hug before going away. "If that's what you want." He whispers unexpectedly in your ear, offering you a final smile before letting himself be guided to the cafeteria.

You spend the rest of the days wanting to beat yourself for wasting the chance you had to go out with Satoru. You don't talk to him as much during the week, since Nami was making sure to grab every second of his free time at break. It didn't take too long to figure out that both of them would go to prom together, and even though you were the one who made that happen, it still stings to imagine them having a good time.

Prom day arrives, and in the end, no one invites you. It wasn't something completely unexpected, but to be honest, you were hoping that at least one of your friends would be kind enough to want you as a company just so you could all enjoy the "night to remember". Honestly, you didn't want to miss such an important event, and even though there was a chance that you'd make a fool of yourself, it's still your prom, and you have the right to make the most of it, with or without someone.

Kicking' away the self-pity, you dressed up and got ready for the special night, wearing that beautiful gown that you remember once showing on Pinterest to Satoru, months before the event. Checking your purse one more time, you catch your phone to ask for a cab, when you hear three familiar knocks on your front door.

Opening your house, you come face to face with someone you never would've imagined seeing at that moment. There stood Gojo Satoru, with a black tuxedo that perfectly accentuates his body, a bouquet of pink camellias in his left hand, glasses off, and a beautiful lopsided smile.

"...Wow." The combo of his honest compliment, his lingering, fond gaze in your direction, and the fact that you made him momentarily speechless, makes your whole self overwhelmed with endearing sensations, especially your warm cheeks.

But that passes too quickly since you don't understand the sudden visit.

"S-Satoru? What are you doing here?" You didn't want this to be the first thing to say to him, but you're so confused, that you don't know what else to say. "I thought you were going out with Nami. Where is she?"

Awakening from the brief trance you provoked in him, the white-haired boy only increases his smile in a rather strange way. " Didn't you know? Mina got in an accident yesterday, she fell from the stairs and ended up breaking her leg."

One more time, you were taken by surprise. As for your friend, he doesn't sound as worried as you imagined he would be after giving this message, but he still makes a respectful pause after saying it.

Satoru also notices your reaction, observing the way you empathetic self got sad for that girl's situation. Little did you know, that she got exactly what deserved. And if you looked more closely at your gift, instead of worrying yourself, you'd notice the blood stains around the wrapping paper, the remains of what your future partner did to prove his love.

To his luck, you're just too pure to realize what you don't need to. And for that, Satoru smiles, gazing at you with sparks again.

"So now, will you go to prom with me?"

n: not me enjoying writing about yandere! gojo and remembering his maniac face at the show 😊thank you for the request, my darling @quirrrky, I hope you enjoy it!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated. ❤️

taglist: @vemuabhi @ceriphina @taurus852

#{ w.jjk }#❧ Yandere Series #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere gojo #yandere x reader #halloween event #gojo x reader #gojo x you

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stxrsberkshire · 25 days

Text

GET HIM BACK!

Theodore Nott x Reader

I’ve never really given relationships a chance. This is because I know how it ends, you’ll always end up hurt and broken hearted. You meet this “amazing” guy, he takes you on a date, he cracks up a bunch of jokes, and like any typical romcom movie you guys will kiss on the first date, you start to hang out with him a lot, he sets up this picnic near a gorgeous view and that’s when he asks you to be his girlfriend, you say yes, you fall inlove with him and plan your whole future with him in your head because you think he’s the one.

Then he’ll break up with you, give you some bullshit reason like “I want to focus on myself first” or “It’s not you, it’s me”

This has always been my mindset when it comes to relationships, but then I met Theodore Nott.

That’s when I realized that I was fucking right.

“I want to kill myself Hermione” I say while laying on her bed as she studies on her desk, she turns around to look at me “Don’t joke about things like that!” she exclaims, “Oh don’t worry I’m not joking.” I say with a hint of sarcasm in my tone.

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal” she shrugs, “What?” I sit back up, “I said I don’t get the big deal, I mean no offense but Theodore Nott is not all that” she says, “It’s not that, the reason I’m so mad is because of how foolish I was, his reason for breaking up is that he needs to focus on himself but then I saw him making out with some girl the following day, this is all my fault! I have literally been warning myself about this whole relationship thingy, but one cheesy pickup line from that beautiful bastard and suddenly all my principles disappeared into thin air!”

“That’s the kind of effect love has on some people” she says “What?!” I frown, “What now?” she sighs, obviously so tired of my complaining. “I did not fall inlove with him, I liked him but I did not fall inlove with him!” she just raises her eyebrows at me “I’m not lying okay!” I say as I plop down on her bed, “Alright” she says as she gets back to studying.

“I have an idea” I say as I stand up and make my way over to her desk, “what?” she says, not taking her eyes off her book. “I’ll get revenge” she looks up at me “What? that seems kind of petty now does it?”, “Yeah that’s my goal.” she sighs, “Don’t you think it would be better to just take the high road?” I frown “Hermione, when have I ever taken the high road?” she stops to think for a moment, “Good point.” she says, “Mione, I gave up my principles for him!” I exclaim, “Yeah, now you’re giving up your morals as well.” she says “Never had them in the first place.” I joke and she just sighs once again, “Alright. I won’t help you with this, but as your friend I guess I have nothing else to do besides support you.” I smile at her.

Oh Nott, the things I have planned for you.

Hey guys, I hope yall don’t judge me for this. I’m terrible at writing, but I’m hoping to improve so any tips would help. Btw I might consider making this fic a series if yall end up liking this first part so yeah that’s it, hope yall like it🫰🏼

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott angst #lorenzo zurzolo #slytherin boys #niccolo govender #harry potter #Spotify #guts olivia rodrigo

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katsu28 · 1 year

Text

to be alone together

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: steve has to work on valentine’s day, but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

warnings: none, 1.8k

a/n: u know i had to do a lil something for my steve girlies too <3 went for a more steve centric pov bc he is the definition of pining simp

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(gif credits to @harringtondaily)

“Kinda sucks that you gotta work tonight.” Robin’s voice through the phone pressed to Steve’s ear was staticky, but still provided a good distraction from the empty video store around him.

It was Valentine’s Day and Steve had been at Family Video since opening, watching couple after couple come in to pretty much clear the romcom shelves, and yeah, he was a little bummed about it, but there was no point moping around about it any longer than he already had been.

“It’s whatever, honestly. Not like I had any plans to begin with.” He sighed, shifting the receiver so it was wedged between his cheek and shoulder as his fingers drifted down to fiddle with the pen on the counter absentmindedly.

“Steve, that’s sad.” Robin replied. Steve wrinkled his nose, a slightly offended noise escaping the back of his throat. “No! I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you should be out and about, having a good time.”

“You know what’s actually sad? You talking to me instead of paying attention to your date.” He shot back, only half serious. “Where’s Nance?”

“Oh she’s right here. Say hi, Nance.”

Steve heard a faint ‘hi Steve’ in the background and he returned the greeting. “What are you guys doing tonight?”

“She made this really fancy pasta thing for dinner, we’re just waiting on the chicken to finish in the oven and I thought I’d see what was going on with you.” Robin sounded casual, but he knew this was her way of checking up on him since he was the only one on shift all day and she knew how he felt about today.

“Rob, I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, but I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Why don’t you just close up early, come join us for dinner? We have more than enough food.”

“You’re seriously inviting me to crash your romantic dinner date with your girlfriend?” He snorted, rolling his eyes playfully. “What does Nancy think of that?”

There was some shuffling on the other end, a bout of silence, then Robin was back on the line. “She’s giving me a weird look, nevermind. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t my best idea.”

“I love you both, but you know I can’t.”

The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Steve’s attention away from his phone call and to whoever just walked in.

Shit. It was you.

You were dressed like you were supposed to be on your date, not here, hair and makeup done up all pretty, floaty dress in his favorite color swishing around your knees as you made your way into the store. It made him wonder if you chose that color on purpose, but he knew that you didn’t. You couldn’t have known you’d be seeing him tonight. Wishful thinking on his end though.

“Rob, I gotta go,” He blurted, straightening up behind the counter.

“Wait, what—”

“I gotta go, she’s—someone’s here, I gotta help her.”

“She? Oh my god, wait! Is it—”

“Have a nice date, tell Nance I said bye!” With that, Steve hung up, slamming the receiver onto the base with enough force to send it skittering a few inches. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Steve!” Your previously downturned lips lifted into a smile, one that had Steve’s heart thudding a little faster in his chest. It always did. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.”

See, you were also part of the reason he decided to take the extra shift today, but through no fault of your own. You’d mentioned earlier in the week while you were hanging out with him and Robin that someone had asked you out for tonight, and Steve didn’t really know how to feel about it.

You were friends, but had Steve been harboring a crush on you since pretty much the first day you met? Yes.

Did he feel an itching sense of jealousy that you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him? Also yes.

Would he do anything about it? Probably not.

Okay, so maybe he knew exactly how he felt about it. Hell, he’d picked up an extra shift to distract himself from it.

“Yeah, I got called in last minute." A lie. "Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” A casual, not at all hoping that it crashed and burned question. That would be mean. (But also a little gratifying for him.)

You chuckled, a tad bitter as you leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter, the action sending a whiff of your perfume his way. Steve’s knees almost gave out. “Supposed to, yeah. But the guy never showed up.”

Steve had to fight a noise of surprise. What kind of dumbass would skip out on a date with you? “Really? That’s—that sucks, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. Wasn’t really looking forward to it anyways.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t really know him that well, honestly. He was a friend of a friend, asked me out in front of a bunch of people, and I didn’t really wanna turn him down and make it awkward.”

“You’re way too nice, Y/N. And he’s an idiot for standing you up.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You smiled warmly at him, patting his hand. Steve had to pretend his pulse wasn’t racing right now. “What about you? Why’re you here and not out with anyone?”

“I, uh—I didn’t really feel like going out tonight. Don’t think I’d be a very good date anyways.”

“Oh, you’re just being modest. What girl wouldn’t wanna spend Valentine’s Day with Steve Harrington?”

The one girl he wanted to spend this day with, he thought. You.

“You’d be surprised.” He muttered.

“Well then they’re idiots too.”

A small smile quirked his lips. “Thanks.”

“Hey, I just came to pick up some movies and spend the rest of my night shoveling down ice cream, but since we’re both here now and alone, d’you wanna…be alone together? Grab a bite to eat or do something?”

Steve’s shoulders slumped defeatedly. “I’d love to, but I—I can’t. I gotta stay here til the end of my shift, Keith’s been on my ass about taking off early and as much as I hate the guy, I don’t wanna get fired.”

“Oh, okay. Don’t worry about it, I’m, uh—it’s cool.” Was he hallucinating, or did you look disappointed?

“Would you maybe wanna, I dunno, stay here? We can watch whatever you want and I know where Robin keeps her work snack stash. That way we can be alone together and I don’t get chewed out again?” Steve blurted hopefully. He was honestly expecting you to say no. Why would you wanna spend the rest of your already shitty night with him in a dingy video store? But then your face split into the biggest smile and you nodded, rocking forward on the balls of your feet earnestly. “Go pick something out, I’ll grab the snacks.”

You scurried off to browse the near bare shelves, leaving Steve shaking his head amusedly in your wake as he watched you skim the tapes with a look of utmost concentration. He slipped into the back room to grab Robin’s last unopened bag of chips, making a mental note to buy more before tomorrow’s shift before returning to the video area.

He skimmed the store, spotting you in the romcom section, and when he made his way over, you were contemplating the last two tapes on the shelf.

You beamed at him upon spotting him. “Pretty in Pink or Sixteen Candles?”

“Am I allowed to say neither?”

“You said whatever I want, Steve.” You said pointedly, propping your hands on your hips.

“I did, didn’t I?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. You let out a hum of pleasure, sliding your chosen movie off the shelf and wandering towards the TV in the corner. Steve hurried after you quickly, plucking the tape from between your fingertips and running away, not unlike a child would.

“Steve!” You huffed, whirling on your heel. He grinned mischievously at you, waving it in the air like a taunt. You caught up with him within seconds, lunging for the tape that he held up above his head and away from your outstretched hand. Your body was pressed against his as you reached for it, as you leaned against him in a fruitless attempt to overpower him. “Steve, gimme the tape!”

“No!” He laughed, but that laughter very soon trickled off as soon as he realized your proximity. You were so close, he could see the color of your eyes clear as day, looking right back at him. You’d fallen quiet too, as if you’d come to the same realization.

You were nose to nose, faces a hair’s breadth away from each other, the stolen tape in Steve’s hands long forgotten. Every fiber in his body was telling him to pull away, because the longer he stayed here the weirder it would be when he finally did manage to retreat, but no matter how hard he willed himself to move, he couldn’t. Instead, his eyes flicked down to your lips. Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

“Steve?” You whispered, gaze darting around his own face.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

Steve dropped the tape immediately, closing the gap between you and pressing his lips against yours. His hands came up to cup your face, holding you firm but kissing you soft, like he was preparing himself to pull away if you did. But from the way you were returning his kiss, how your hands clutched at the front of his vest to keep him this close, it didn’t feel like you’d be pulling away anytime soon, and that spurred him on even more.

One hand slid down to settle at your waist, the other curling around the back of your neck as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a little bit.

Steve’s lips felt tingly when he pulled away, tasted of your cherry lip gloss when his tongue darted out to lick them. He was sure to have a little bit on his mouth now, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not by a long shot. Cherry might’ve just become his new favorite flavor.

“I really like you.” He breathed, chest heaving against yours. Your lips curved into a soft smile—the same smile that nearly sent Steve’s brain short circuiting every time it was aimed his way.

“After that kiss, I’d sure hope so,” You replied, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt as best you could. “I like you too, just so you know. Part of the reason I was so okay with my date ditching me. He wasn’t you.”

Steve could only beam at you, going in for another kiss. In his excitement, he missed his mark, hitting the corner of your mouth instead, but he didn’t care. The girl he wanted all along actually liked him back, and it only took one failed date and an extra shift to find out.

Maybe working on Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #stranger things #joe keery #if u saw me say goodnight earlier don't look at me #what is it with me and posting when i should be sleeping #is anyone awake #does anyone even read tags anymore tho #anyways if you've gotten this far hi thank u for reading i love u #MWAH #ok im actually going to bed now #goodnight <3 #happy valentine's day besties

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