#he wants to be Challenged. he Loves competition. so who better to be with than his eternal rival

[pucksandpower]

Changing Lanes

Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc always thought he would spend the rest of his career racing in red. But you make him see that he deserves better than false promises and unrequited love

“Took you long enough,” you say, lounging casually on the small leather couch in Charles’ driver’s room, your fingertips tracing intricate patterns on the cushion beside you.

Charles raises an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh as he kicks off his shoes. “Every single time I see you, Y/N, you always have something to say.”

You linger on him. “Is it my fault you had to chat with the entire paddock before coming here?”

He smirks, crossing the room. “It’s called being polite. Something you could learn from.”

“Polite?” You scoff, feigning innocence. “Oh, like how Ferrari celebrated that P3 like it was a win? That kind of polite?”

Charles stiffens but he keeps his cool. “We take what we can get.”

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Starting on pole and settling for P3? Charles, you deserve better.”

“I know,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze. “But this is racing. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way.”

You lean in closer, your voice dropping an octave. “It could, though. If you were with a team that actually valued you, that gave you a car worthy of your talent.”

He looks up, meeting your gaze with a challenge. “You mean Red Bull?”

A coy smile plays on your lips. “It’s not a secret that Dad wants you. And imagine … you, in a competitive car, and me, right by your side as your race engineer.”

Charles’ eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Tempting,” he murmurs, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But is this for the team or for you?”

“Can’t it be both?” You whisper back.

His breath hitches and he pulls back slightly. “This isn’t just about racing, is it?”

You hesitate. “I see how they treat you. How they let you down time and time again. But with us ... with me ... it would be different.”

He looks conflicted. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” You press. “With Red Bull, you’d have support, a competitive car, and … me.”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about what happens on track. It’s about the politics, the contracts, the media ... it’s all complicated.”

“You make it sound like an impossible puzzle,” you say, tracing circles on his wrist. You gaze locks with his, trying to convey everything you feel.

“It might be.”

You lean in, lips just inches from his. “Then let’s solve it together.”

He hesitates, searching your eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”

You smirk, confidence oozing from every pore. “Isn’t that what racing’s all about?”

Charles chuckles softly, the tension in the room slowly melting away. “You always have an answer for everything.”

“It’s the Horner in me,” you retort with a smug smile. “Besides, aren’t you tired of being just another pawn in Ferrari’s game?”

“It’s not easy. To just switch teams, to give up on something you’ve worked for your entire life.”

You reach up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Who says you’re giving up? You’d be making a choice. A choice to be somewhere you’re valued. Somewhere you have a real shot at the championship. With people who truly care about you and actions that reflect that.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just about the racing. There are so many other factors.”

“Like what?”

He opens his eyes, meeting yours. “Like us.”

You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“If I come to Red Bull … if I work with you … it changes everything. Our relationship. Our dynamic. Everything.”

You take a moment, absorbing his words. “We can handle it. We’re strong enough.”

He gives you a sad smile. “I wish I had your confidence.”

You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “You have me. Together, we can face anything.”

Charles looks at you for a long moment, his emotions raw and exposed. Finally, he speaks. “I’ll think about it. But whatever I decide … know that it’s not just about racing. I refuse to give you up.”

“Just promise me one thing.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “Never settle for less than you deserve.”

He smiles, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “Same goes for you, Y/N Horner.”

***

“I still can’t believe they forgot to remove the radiator blank,” you murmur, your fingers softly tracing patterns on Charles’ bare chest as he lies next to you in his São Paulo hotel. The dim light from the bedside lamp paints soft shadows on his face, emphasizing the frustration in his eyes.

Charles sighs heavily, turning his head to look at you. “Neither can I. Another race, another issue. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”

You lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t deserve this, Charles. You’re better than this. Better than them.”

He chuckles humorlessly, eyes closing. “It seems like it’s one thing after another.”

“Come to Red Bull,” you whisper, fingertips dancing down his arm. “You know it’s the right move.”

He opens his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Y/N, we talked about this.”

You press a gentle kiss on his jaw, speaking against his skin. “Hear me out. If McLaren overtakes Ferrari in the Constructors’ standings, you can activate your exit clause. You could leave them, Charles.”

Charles swallows hard, feeling the warmth of your breath on his neck. “And if they don’t?”

“Then we’ll buy you out,” you say confidently, trailing kisses down his collarbone. “Dad’s already spoken about it. We want you. I want you.”

Charles’ breath catches as your hands explore his torso but he tries to focus. “Equal status with Max?”

“Of course,” you assure him, pressing your body flush against his. “You and Max, racing side by side. Just think of the possibilities.”

He groans, both from your touch and the tempting offer. “A car designed by Adrian Newey ...”

You nod, “With plenty of oversteer, just how you like it. No more one-sided compromises.”

He laughs softly. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

You smirk, lips hovering over his. “Always. And instead of Xavi, you’d hear my voice on the other end of the radio, guiding you, supporting you.”

Charles captures your lips with his, deepening the kiss before pulling back. “You’re making it very hard to think.”

“That’s the point,” you whisper with a playful grin, your hands tugging at his waistband.

He bites his lip, trying to resist your charms. “But Y/N ... it’s not just about the racing. It’s ... it’s us. What happens to us?”

You cup his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes. “We fight together, we win together. Every podium, every championship, we celebrate together.”

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You make it sound so perfect.”

“It can be,” you promise, pressing soft kisses on his eyelids. “With Red Bull, you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And me.”

Charles smiles, caressing your cheek. “You’re very persuasive, you know?”

You grin. “It’s one of my many talents.”

He chuckles, capturing your lips once more. “I’ll think about it.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll still be by your side.”

He smiles, pulling you closer. “I know. And that’s what makes this decision so hard.”

***

“Absolutely unbelievable,” your father mutters, watching the replay of Ferrari’s disastrous double stack. “You would think they’ve never done a pit stop before.”

You nod, equally shocked. But your attention shifts as the familiar figure of your favorite Monegasque storms into the Red Bull garage, his helmet still on and visor obscuring his face. You can feel the fury emanating from him.

“Charles?” You question hesitantly.

He doesn’t respond to you but instead turns to your father, “Christian, can we talk? Now. Somewhere private.”

Christian looks taken aback by the intensity in Charles’ voice but nods. “Of course.”

Charles glances at you. “You too, Y/N. Please.”

You follow, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. Once inside the small office, Charles finally removes his helmet, revealing eyes red from restrained tears. He takes a moment, collecting himself before he speaks.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Charles exhales. “Every single time I think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find a new low. Today was the last straw.”

You approach him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”

Your father is equally sympathetic. “That was hard to watch. I can’t even imagine what it felt like.”

Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just today. It’s everything. I gave them everything. I wanted to win with them. For my father. For Jules.”

You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “They would be so incredibly proud of you. No matter what.”

He blinks back tears, voice strained. “I wanted to drive that red car to the top for them. But I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a team that clearly does not value me in return.”

Your father speaks up, “Charles, if you’re thinking of a change ... Red Bull is ready to welcome you with open arms.”

Charles looks up, locking eyes with him. “I know. And as much as Ferrari has been my dream, my home, I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with a team that values me. I want to join Red Bull.”

You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration but the look in his eyes tells you that he’s made up his mind. “Charles,” you whisper, stepping closer. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“It’s hard,” he admits. “But this is where my heart is telling me to go.”

Your father gives the two of you a moment, leaving the office to give you privacy.

Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you close. “I never imagined leaving Ferrari. But after everything, I know it’s the right decision.”

You wrap your arms around him, resting your forehead against his. “They will be so proud of you, Charles. No matter what colors you wear or what car you drive.”

He smiles weakly. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

You pull back slightly, searching his eyes. “This is a big step. I don’t want you to regret anything. Are you still sure?”

He nods, determination in his gaze. “More than I’ve ever been.”

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Then welcome to Red Bull.”

***

“I have to tell Ferrari,” Charles straightens, determination evident in his eyes. “I just need to get it over with. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.“

Charles grabs your hand, pulling you towards his driver’s room. “Wait here,” he says, going in and returning moments later with his Ferrari jacket. He places it over your Red Bull team polo, attempting to keep your allegiance concealed for now. You both then proceed to the debrief room where the Ferrari team is waiting.

Fred Vasseur begins his speech the moment you both enter, “This wasn’t how we wanted to end the year but looking ahead to next season—”

Charles cuts him off, “Actually, there won’t be a next season. Not for me.”

The room falls into a tense silence, all eyes on the driver who has given them his heart and soul.

“What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath, “I’ve decided to leave Ferrari.”

Gasps fill the room. Fred’s eyes land on you, finally noticing the Red Bull logo peeking out from under the jacket you’re borrowing. “And you bring her, of all people, here to tell us this?”

Charles squares his shoulders. “Y/N is here because I asked her to be. This decision is mine and mine alone.”

Xavi stands up, “After everything we’ve done for you! This is how you repay us?”

You can’t hold back any longer. “Everything you’ve done? You mean the countless strategy mistakes, the endless car issues, the complete lack of support?”

Another team member cuts in, “This is not your place, Y/N!”

“It is today,” you retort. “I’m here to support my new driver.”

Charles’ voice shakes but he speaks with conviction, “I gave everything for this team. I bled Ferrari red. But I can’t keep doing this. Not when it’s clear that my effort and commitment is not matched in return.”

Fred’s voice softens. “Charles, we’ve had our challenges but we can overcome them together.”

Charles shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m joining Red Bull. My manager will send over the necessary legal paperwork as soon as possible.”

The room is filled with murmurs, disbelief evident on every face. Charles takes one last look around, his eyes filled with pain, and turns to leave.

You follow closely, feeling the weight of every step as you exit the debrief room.

The second you’re around the corner, Charles breaks down. He rests his forehead against the wall, tears rolling down his face silently. “I didn’t ... I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

You pull him close and try to find the right words. “It was never going to be easy. But you did what you had to. For yourself. For your future.”

He turns to look at you, eyes red-rimmed but determined. “I just wanted to make them proud.”

You cup his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “They would be proud of you. Not for the badge you wear or the car you drive but for the man you’ve become.”

Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you stand there for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.

When he finally pulls away, he manages a weak smile. “Thank you. For standing by me.”

You squeeze his hand. “Always.”

***

***

***

Charles stands in front of the massive two-story trophy wall at the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes, eyes wide with wonder. “Ferrari would never do something so ... gaudy.”

You smirk, sidling up next to him. “And yet, you love it.”

“I do,” he laughs. “It’s … different.”

You lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, Ferrari hasn’t had all that much to exhibit in the last two decades. Not for lack of trying from the drivers, of course.”

He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cheeky.”

The two of you walk further into the factory. “So,” Charles draws out, “I was wondering if you could recommend a good real estate agent in the area.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would you need an agent when I have a perfectly good apartment we can share?”

“Really? Are you sure? I just … I wasn’t sure if you would want that and I don’t want to pressure you.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course I do, Charles. It’s not even a question.”

He smiles, the weight of the decision to move seeming a little lighter now. “Thank you.”

You wink, taking his hand. “Come on, let me show you around.”

As you guide him through the factory, he’s like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “This place is incredible,” he murmurs, running a hand along a piece of machinery.

You grin, pulling him towards the simulator room. “Wait until you see this.”

He steps inside, eyes immediately drawn to the impressive simulator setup. “Wow.”

You gesture for him to sit down, watching as he takes a seat, adjusting the settings. “Ready for your first sim run in the RB20?”

He nods eagerly, “Let’s do it.”

As he starts the simulation, you watch closely, monitoring the data and providing feedback. The two of you work seamlessly together, the connection between race engineer and driver already forming and growing.

After several runs, Charles steps out of the simulator, a huge grin on his face. “That was incredible! The car feels amazing.”

You smile. “I’m glad you think so. The team has put a lot of work into it.”

He pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “I can’t wait to get on track with you on the other side of the radio.”

You pull back, looking into his eyes. “Me too. We’re going to do great things together. I know it.”

He nods. “I know we will too.”

***

“I have to admit,” Charles says, eyes scanning the paddock, “I’m thankful that Mercedes and McLaren are between our motorhome and Ferrari’s. Makes things less ... awkward.”

You glance towards the distant red of the mobile Ferrari building, understanding the sentiment. “Must be weird being so close and yet so far.”

He nods, a hint of melancholy in his gaze as he looks at the place he called home for so long. “It’s bittersweet.”

Pulling him from his thoughts, you nudge him playfully. “Come on, Mr. Pole-Sitter. We have a race to prep for.”

Charles smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. “Always so professional, Miss Horner.”

You grin. “Only when it counts.”

The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage is electric. Mechanics and engineers hustle around, getting everything ready. The RB20 sits gleaming, waiting for its moment to shine.

Charles adjusts his gloves, taking a deep breath. “Feels different,” he admits, looking at you. “Being here, in this car, with this team. But a good kind of different.”

You lean in, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this. It’s just another race.”

He smiles. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in the hot seat.”

“True, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just listen to my voice and trust me.”

“I always do.”

As he gets into the car, you lean in closer to his helmet, your lips touching it’s hard shell. “And Charles? Stay safe out there.”

He looks at you and winks. “I’ll come back to you.”

The race begins with a burst of energy. Charles takes off from pole, holding his position as the field jockeys for placement behind him.

“Good start,” you say through the radio, your voice calm and composed. “Keep it steady.”

“Copy.”

The race is intense, with Charles and Max battling for the lead, their cars dancing on the edge of perfection. The radio chatter between the two of you flows naturally, filled with technical details, strategy adjustments, and the occasional personal quip.

“Feeling the heat from Max?” You tease after a particularly close call between the two Red Bulls.

Charles laughs breathlessly. “Just keeping things interesting for the fans.”

The race continues at a blistering pace, with Charles and Max pushing each other to the limit. But through it all, Charles remains in the lead, with you guiding him from the pit wall.

“Final lap,” you inform. “Bring it home.”

He nods, pushing the car to its limit. The cheers of the crowd grow louder as he crosses the finish line, securing his first victory with Red Bull.

“Amazing job, Charles! I knew you could do it!”

He lets out a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you, team. Thank you, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you all.”

The two of you celebrate the victory, and as the rose water sprays and the cheers of the crowd fill the air, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey together.

***

“You’re sure about the medium tyres, Y/N?” Charles asks nervously as he looks at the other cars lining up. “Everyone else is starting on softs.”

You nod confidently, tapping the race strategy on your clipboard. “Yes. The upside of using the mediums is it gives us flexibility. We can extend our first stint if needed, especially with possible rain on the forecast. While everyone else has to pit early for hards and then again for inters when the rain starts, we’ll only have to pit once. Trust me.”

He inhales deeply, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside. “I do trust you. It’s just ... Ferrari ... the strategies there ...”

“I know,” you interrupt softly, understanding the trauma and distrust years with Ferrari had instilled in him. “But this isn’t Ferrari. It’s Red Bull and we work differently. I’ve got your back.”

“Alright,” he looks into your eyes, finding assurance and conviction there, “let’s do this.”

The race begins, and Charles holds his ground well on the medium tyres, though the drivers running softs initially show quicker pace. But as predicted, the clouds soon darken and the threat of rain becomes increasingly evident.

“Stay focused,” you guide through the radio. “Remember the plan.”

He pushes on, expertly handling the streets of Monaco. The cars around him begin to lose grip and one by one they dive into the pits for hard tyres.

Charles keeps lapping. He moves up the order.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage. “Stick to the plan. We’re right on schedule.”

However, as the first raindrops begin to fall, panic sets in among the other teams on the grid. Those who just pitted for hard tyres are forced to pit again for intermediate tyres, losing precious time.

“Now,” you command, “Box this lap.”

He follows your instruction, driving into the pits, and with a flawless stop by his Red Bull crew, re-emerges in the lead.

The rain continues but Charles navigates the treacherous streets of Monaco expertly, maintaining his lead. When the chequered flag waves, it’s Charles who crosses the line first and finally claims victory at his home Grand Prix.

Tears of joy and relief pour from Charles’ eyes as he takes in the moment. “Thank you,” he says over the radio, voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe it. We did it in Monaco!”

You smile, tears in your own eyes. “We did. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”

He laughs, the sound full of pure joy. “You did. And I’m so glad I did. Thank you for everything.”

As he steps out of the car and jumps on its nose, arms spread wide, the crowd roars in approval, their prince finally crowned in his home race.

Then he rushes to the barriers and jumps into the cheering crowd of dark blue waiting for him. When his sweaty lips find yours surrounded by the celebrating Red Bull team, you take a moment to whisper a promise, “This is just the beginning. It will only get better from here.”

***

The season flies by in a blur of champagne showers. Heading into the Italian Grand Prix, Charles find himself leading the Drivers’ Championship with Max nipping at his heels.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Charles confesses, staring out at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. “This was home. I don’t know how they will react now that I’m no longer wearing red.”

You rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Many fans support the driver, not just the color he wears.”

He takes a deep breath and looks over the crowd. “The Tifosi are different. They bleed Ferrari red. I’m afraid they will see me only as a traitor.”

“You gave them your all,” you counter. “They’ve seen the struggles. They know why you left. They understand. Trust in them and in yourself.”

As the two of you make your way towards the paddock, the familiar chorus of cheers fills the air. But instead of the jeers and boos he feared, a chant begins to rise among the crowd of red: “Charles! Charles! Charles!”

Charles stops in his tracks. “They’re ... they’re cheering for me.”

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Told you.”

He’s soon swarmed by a group of fans, all clamoring for autographs, photos, and just a moment of his time. It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi remains unbroken.

An older fan steps forward, his Ferrari cap worn with age. “You are still Il Predestinato. We wish it ended differently but we have eyes. We watched the races. We know why you left. No matter what team you drive for, you always have our hearts.”

Charles blinks back tears, deeply touched. “Grazie,” he whispers and claps the fan’s weathered hands in thanks.

Another fan, a young girl with a homemade sign that reads Once a Tifosi, Always a Tifosi, shyly approaches. “We still love you, Charles,” she says.

He kneels down to give her a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking off his Red Bull cap and placing it on her head.

As the day goes on, the support from the Tifosi only grows. They cheer for him during practice, during qualifying, and every time he appears in front of the stands.

It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi is as strong as ever.

That evening, as the two of you sit in the garage looking over data, Charles reflects on his day. “I was so afraid,” he admits. “Afraid of being rejected, of losing their love. But today ... today was incredible.”

You close the analytics. “The Tifosi love you. Not because of the car you drive or the colors you wear but because of who you are. Just like I do.”

He nods slowly. “It’s overwhelming. Monza has always been special to me. To feel this level of love and support ... it’s more than I ever expected.”

You lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “They see your passion. They see how much you give on and off the track. Anyone who does not love and respect you for that needs to reconsider.”

He exhales slowly, “I just ... I wanted to make them proud, to win for them in red and bring glory back to Maranello. But knowing they still support me no matter what ... it means everything.”

You look up into his eyes. “And they always will. Because they know you always gave and will continue to give your best. They love you because they are loved in return.”

He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “For always being my rock, especially in moments like these.”

“Now let’s go out there tomorrow and win.”

***

“Vegas, baby!” Charles shouts, swinging an arm around your shoulders, both of you holding champagne glasses that have been refilled one too many times.

You giggle, distinctly feeling all of the alcohol you’ve consumed. “We won! We did it!”

Charles laughs, pulling you closer. “We did! And do you know what people do when they’re in love and win in Vegas?”

You think about it for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes. “Get ... married?”

Charles nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Y/N Horner, will you marry me tonight?”

You don’t hesitate, “Hell yes!”

The two of you, in your drunken stupor, begin your mission to find a wedding chapel. However, before you can get very far, Max spots you and quickly catches on to what you’re planning.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going with Y/N?”

Charles replies with a sloppy grin, “To make her Mrs. Leclerc!”

Max bursts into laughter, trying to play the voice of reason. “Mate, as much fun as that sounds, I think you might want to sleep on that idea.”

But you’re not having it. “No, Max! We’re in love and it’s Vegas. We’re doing it!”

Before the conversation can escalate further, your father joins the fray, looking both amused and concerned. “What on earth is going on here?”

Max chuckles, “Your daughter and Charles here have some ... ambitious plans for the evening.”

You pout and stumble slightly, “Daddy, we want to get married! Right now!”

Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Married? Tonight? Seriously?”

Charles nods with absolute seriousness, though his precarious swaying contradicts his tone. “Christian, I love your daughter. And we won. In Vegas. So ... wedding?”

Your father places a firm hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Listen, Charles, I have no doubt about your feelings for Y/N. But my baby girl deserves the world. When and if you ever decide to propose, I expect you to get down on one knee, stone-cold sober, and ask her properly.”

Charles blinks, processing the words. “But ... Vegas?”

You laugh and go to hug your father, almost falling over in the process. “He’s right. Let’s just enjoy tonight. And if we still feel like getting married in the morning, we can discuss it then.”

Max smirks, “Trust me, you’ll thank us in the morning. If you can even remember this conversation, that is.”

***

“Charles,” you begin, your voice echoing in his helmet, “The team has made the call. You and Max are free to race. No team orders.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood. May the best man win.”

The tension in the garage skyrockets as soon as the lights go out. It’s evident that this is going to be an epic battle from the very first turn. Max and Charles swap places multiple times, pushing their cars to the very edge of their limits.

“Breathe,” you remind him calmly as the laps go by, “Don’t loose sight of the race as a whole. There’s a championship at stake.”

The entire race is a blur of overtakes, pit strategies, and nail-biting moments. The two Red Bull cars battle wheel-to-wheel lap after lap. One side of the garage against the other.

Coming into the final laps, Charles is right on Max’s tail — the championship hanging in the balance between them.

You know there’s not much you can do to guide him anymore … it’s all up to Charles.

“Last lap,” you try to sound composed despite the pounding of your heart. “You can do this.”

The cheers and gasps of the crowd are deafening as Charles makes his move, taking the inside line and overtaking Max on the penultimate turn.

“Push now! Just a few more corners.”

As Charles crosses the finish line, the enormity of the moment crashes over both of you.

“Charles Leclerc,” you scream over the radio as tears stream down your face, “you are the World Champion!”

“Yeeeesssss! Yes! Yes! I ... I can’t believe it. This is ... thank you, everyone. To the entire Red Bull team, you’ve given me the chance to chase and achieve my dreams. To my friends, my family, to every single person who’s been by my side, believed in me, and supported me … thank you. And Y/N, you’ve been my rock and my oxygen. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you! Thank you. Thank you so much!”

***

“Whew! That was a lot of rose water!” Charles laughs, wiping the bubbly liquid from his eyes.

You chuckle and try to wring out your hair. “You didn’t have to drench me, you know!”

Charles grins cheekily. “It’s a special occasion, after all. Both of us on this podium? It’s a dream!”

Then suddenly, he turns serious and signals to his brother in the crowd below, who throws him a small leather box. Charles catches it and promptly lowers himself down on one knee in front of you, making the crowd fall into a stunned silence.

“I tried this in Vegas,” he starts with a laugh, “But I might have been too drunk and missed a few pretty important steps.”

Charles takes a deep breath and his eyes lock onto yours, saying everything that words would never be sufficient to. “Y/N, being on this podium with you, winning the World Championship, it’s the pinnacle of my career. But what we have ... it’s the pinnacle of my life. I can’t imagine going on this journey with anyone else, facing the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. Will you marry me?”

Tears flow steadily down your cheeks and you nod with a fervor that would make bobbleheads jealous, “Yes! There’s no one else I’d want to spend forever with.”

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, the deafening roar echoing around the Yas Marina Circuit. Max gives a loud whistle, his face lit up with a big grin next to you on the podium stage.

Charles rises to his feet and pulls you close, attacking your lips as the crowd goes wild.

“Promise me we won’t head to a chapel right after this race?” You joke, sniffling and giggling at the same time.

Charles laughs, looking slightly sheepish. “I promise, mainly because I’m too young to die and your father would definitely kill me if I even thought about pulling the stunt we tried in Vegas again. You deserve a fairytale wedding.”

You press your face against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as fireworks explode overhead. “All I need for my fairytale is you.”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[many-shades-of-violence]

getting drunk with them I Corazon, Law, Doflamingo, Smoker, Ace, Sabo

✢ content: fluff, suggestive themes, alcohol consumption

✢ characters: Corazon, Law, Doflamingo, Smoker, Ace, Sabo

Corazon is a light-hearted and affectionate drunk. He becomes even more talkative and open when he's had a few drinks.

He's the type to get lost in nostalgic stories of his marine days, or talk about his dreams and aspirations with you and little Law.

He might start singing or humming, and if you join in, he'd be absolutely delighted.

As a caring drunk, he's prone to giving you lots and lots of compliments, reminding you how much you mean to him. He might pull you into his lap or snuggle up to you, searching for the warmth of your body while he rests his head on your shoulder.

Corazon is also likely to pull you into slow, clumsy dances, and you'd both end up laughing as you navigate his tipsy waltz, being careful, so he doesn't trip over his long legs.

Law's usual stoic demeanor takes a backseat when he's drunk. He becomes surprisingly expressive, much more relaxed, and most surprisingly, a lot more handsy.

He tends to lean into his playful and mischievous side, making witty comments and teasing you in a way that only a drunk Law can. If there's strong booze involved, he might even slip a hand along your thighs, giving them a firm yet loving grip.

Law might get a bit sentimental as well, sharing his deeper thoughts and feelings with you, which is a rare sight.

He'd challenge you to drinking games, displaying his competitive streak while still maintaining his cool facade.

If you get too drunk, Law would take on a protective role, ensuring you're safe, comfortable, and well-hydrated.

Doflamingo's already flamboyant and unpredictable personality becomes even more amplified when he's had a few drinks.

He's likely to be the life of the party, engaging you with his charismatic way of talking and flashy dance moves.

Doflamingo's sense of humor gets a bit eccentric and twisted, often sharing dark jokes or anecdotes with a cheeky grin on his lips.

He enjoys being the center of attention, but he'd also make sure to dote on you and show you off to everyone around.

Doffy's already "horny on main," but a drunk Flamingo might be another challenge. He'd never overstep your boundaries, but you might have to reprimand him more than once when you find slim fingers cupping your ass.

Smoker is a quiet and introspective drunk. He tends to sit back and observe the surroundings, lost in thought.

He becomes a bit more sentimental when you're around, often expressing his genuine affection for you and how much he appreciates you in his life.

Smoker might share stories from his past that he normally keeps to himself, allowing you a glimpse into his life before the Marines.

He's not one for grand gestures, but he'll subtly make sure you're comfortable and have everything you need for the night-out.

Smoker's tough exterior softens a bit when he's had a few drinks, and he might even crack a small, rare smile from time to time, especially when you're also a bit tipsy, inviting you to stay over at his place to know you're safe.

Ace is a fun-loving and energetic drunk. He's constantly moving and looking for the next adventure.

He'd likely challenge you to various games or dares, trying to see who can handle their liquor better.

Ace's laugh becomes even more contagious, and he'll find just about anything hilarious, ensuring a good time for the two of you.

He might get a bit touchy-feely, always looking for excuses to wrap his arm around you or hold your hand.

When the night winds down, Ace would be the type to suggest stargazing or a late-night walk, wanting to make the most of your time together.

Sabo is a sweet and affectionate drunk. He becomes incredibly attentive to you, making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself.

He's likely to initiate deep conversations, discussing everything from dreams and ambitions to the meaning of life.

Sabo's protective nature might become more pronounced, and he'd keep a watchful eye on you when you've had one glass too many.

He's a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, so he might get tipsy quickly, leading to a lot of adorable behavior.

#one piece #op #sabo #sabo x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace #smoker #smoker x reader #doffy #donquixote doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #corazon #corazon x reader #donquixote rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante #my stuff #writing #headcanons

[heliads]

Hello <3 I was wondering if maybe you could write a charles leclerc fic?? Reader could be in charge of social media and fans start to realise that charles flirts with whoever is behind the camera? Sorry if its too vague, but I love your writing and had to send something in

i cheered audibly when i saw this, please let me write more f1 fics

masterlist

When you were just getting started with your career, someone once asked you if you’d ever consider running a social media campaign for something cute, like a zoo or rescue company. You answered them with a firm no; everyone knows animals never work on camera the way you want them to, and you didn’t want that sort of stress in your life. 

You think the universe must be laughing at you, because funnily enough, what you’re doing right now is exactly like herding cats, but you don’t even get adorable animals for your troubles. No, the Formula One media circus is a nightmare, but it’s a well televised nightmare, and that means your job as head of social media for the Scuderia Ferrari F1 team entails a great deal more metaphorical manhandling of the drivers than you’d ever envisioned.

It’s not even metaphorical all the time, the manhandling. Sometimes it’s just you sending out a great deal of mass emails when someone says something they probably shouldn’t or the Ferrari TikTok page is going through a content drought, but sometimes it’s more. Sometimes it’s like today, when you’re forcing the two drivers to go through yet another competition so the YouTube channel can get another push of subscribers.

You’ve done a lot of careful research over the months that you’ve been here, all dedicated to finding out just what sells the best, so to speak. As of late, you’ve learned that the viewers at home really like competitions and challenge videos. Apparently seeing two men who are obviously great friends go head to head over something as pointless as music trivia or Ping Pong is the pinnacle of motorsport content.

It’s not like you’re complaining. More views means a better paycheck for you at the end of the year. The fans like what you’re producing, and Ferrari likes the fans. It all works out in the end, and who are you to deny the Tifosi their favorite entertainment?

Of course, if you were to actually tell the two red-suited drivers that you refer to them as content and entertainment in the private recesses of your own mind, they probably wouldn’t be too happy. That’s why you keep that to yourself. Besides, they’re your friends. Charles and Carlos may make a lot of problems in your life, but who doesn’t? You’re not exactly perfect either. 

You don’t have to be perfect, though, you just have to come up with good ideas and let the boys be funny on their own. Charles said he liked that best about you, actually, that you let them do their own thing most of the time. The previous social media managers had tried to get them to fit this specific picture of what a Ferrari driver should be, but you never did that. You just wanted them to be them. 

You’re perfectly willing to brush that off as a compliment to a coworker, though. In truth, you’re working constantly to paint these two in the best possible light. It gets stressful sometimes, constantly wracking your brain to make each video work, each post take off. You are affecting how millions of people see Charles and Carlos. Hell, you’re practically filtering their legacy all by yourself. 

It’s not a task you take lightly, to say the least. Maybe that’s why Ferrari is content to keep you around. This is a job that you’d like to extend as long as you can. Just like Charles has worked with overly pushy social media handlers, you’ve worked with total diva clients. Neither of the Ferrari drivers are like that in the slightest, which you appreciate more than anything. 

That isn’t to say that they only ever make your life easy. Right now, for instance, you’ve been begging them to focus for the better part of ten minutes. It’s like working with elementary schoolers. You put anything in front of them and they’re totally distracted before you’ve so much as told them what they’re supposed to be doing. 

Today’s video of choice is a long-anticipated cooking video. Charles versus Carlos, the drivers have been given a mystery basket of ingredients à la Chopped. They’ll have half an hour to come up with a dish of choice, and if the time crunch weren’t enough to stress them out, you’ll be judging their culinary creations when time is called. It’s the perfect setup for a hit video, so if all goes well, you’ll see this on the trending page soon enough. 

That is, if you manage to survive this encounter long enough to post the results. By the time you manage to wrangle the drivers’ attention back to you, Charles has attempted to learn the contents of the bag through interpretive dance and hand gestures with the cameramen and Carlos has accidentally turned his stove on thrice. The third time the fires clicked on, he almost set a napkin ablaze. Both drivers are red faced from trying not to break into mad laughter again. 

You clap your hands once. “Alright, are we finally ready to get started?”

Carlos nudges Charles in the side. “Look, she’s disappointed in you already and she hasn’t even tasted your cooking. This means I am going to win by a lot.”

Charles scoffs, but you swear his barely suppressed smile drops in a second when Carlos mentions your disappointment. “Y/N would never be disappointed in me,” he protests, “I am her favorite, obviously.”

He turns to you, raising his hands in your direction as if asking you to prove his point. You shake your head. “I don’t have favorites, Charles. That would not promote a fun workplace environment.”

“Of course,” Charles nods sagely. “If you had a favorite, though, it would be me.”

Carlos snickers, and in an effort to keep their focus with you before you lose them again, you clear your throat and read out the rules of the cooking contest. The drivers say their dutiful bits about how they’re each going to win this by a landslide, and then time begins and they’re off to the culinary races. 

The covers on the baskets go flying. Charles holds up each object in turn, announcing them in tones of increasing panic. “Butter. Flour. Eggs. Green olives? Three strawberries? A box of spaghetti? Pepperoni?”

“You forgot the chocolate and red onion,” Carlos points out helpfully. 

Charles tosses his teammate a withering glare, then turns the full force of his vexation back to you. “Y/N, you are trying to kill me.”

“Charles,” you say, “we talked about that.”

Charles’ brow furrows as he tries to remember what you mean. It hits him as last and he groans, slapping a hand to his forehead in mock desolation. You’ve noticed that Charles has been mentioning you by name a lot in videos, leading to general confusion among fans. As you’ve reminded him many times before, you’re not supposed to be the focus, he is, so he needs to stop bringing you up all the time. Viewers don’t care about who’s filming the content, after all, just who’s in front of the camera. It’s a tip handed down directly from your boss to you.

Charles still grins at you even as he continues unpacking his ingredients. “I can’t help it, you know that. You’re too good, I want to mention you all the time.”

You scoff. “Good at what? Keeping you in line?”

“Everything,” he says, and raises his eyebrows suggestively. 

You roll your eyes and tell him to focus, but even this instruction doesn’t last long. Barely five minutes later, Charles is bringing up the fact that he’s going to totally win this thing because cooking is, like, a love language, right? And he’s the best at love, he declares, winking conspicuously in your direction. Carlos launches an oven mitt at his head and mutters something that the microphones don’t pick up, something that conveniently has the same number of syllables as stop flirting. 

Charles is steadily making jokes the entire duration of the video, actually, and usually you wouldn’t mind this but they’re all spoken with the intention of getting you to laugh. Not the camera, as he’s been told to do before. You. 

You do your best to keep it off your mind. Both drivers have gotten better about opening up on camera since they started, and this is probably just Charles trying something new in an effort to improve his on-screen personality. After all, it can be hard to direct all your charisma towards a camera, why not aim all your smiles at the person filming instead?

The contest ends soon enough. You end up awarding Charles with the win, mainly due to the fact that Carlos’ hand accidentally slipped as he was attempting to strain his pasta and he ended up losing all of his spaghetti down the sink. His plate consisted of sauce and decorative strawberry slices, which, although tasty, did not contain several key ingredients and resulted in an automatic disqualification. 

Despite the rather shaky grounds on which his cooking victory stands, from the way Charles is acting, you’d think he’d won the WDC. He’s beaming at you, talking about how he’d called this from the very start and was proud that you liked his stuff the best. He even offers to wash the dishes, which is very un-driverlike. 

The video ends up a success by all accounts. Even days later, it’s still trending in Tifosi circles, and the view counts are way higher than expected. Curious as to why, you decide to do the unthinkable and check the comments section of the cooking video.

What you find is– unexpected, to say the least. Usually, comments on any post, whether it be Instagram, TikTok, or YouTube, will range from fans lamenting race outcomes to people mentioning their favorite driver to random spam accounts offering thousands of dollars to the lucky person to message them first.

On this video, though? Most all of the comments are about you. This makes no sense, because not only were you on camera for about one minute, you didn’t do anything other than give instructions and judge food. Antonio Giovinazzi did the same job on a video last year, and no one cared at all. Antonio’s actually well-known in the world of motorsports, so why is it that you, someone who largely operates behind the scenes, would be the cause of so much fuss?

Curious, you start scrolling in depth, but find yourself more confused with every reply you see.

He’s totally flirting with her, right?

Is anyone else seeing the fact that Charles is freaking out over trying to impress this girl?

His face when she declared him the winner… I can’t even with him!!

Charles trying to protect Y/N by refusing to let Carlos salvage his sink pasta– they’re dating, right???

You find yourself laughing over it. This can’t be real. Surely nobody in the world actually thinks that Charles Leclerc– F1 driver, Ferrari superhero, Il Predestinato and supporter of all Tifosi hopes and dreams, multi-millionaire– would ever have a crush on you. It’s absurd. It’s so absurd that you find yourself racing to the office of another one of your friends in social media to get her opinion on it.

Your friend looks up at you, startled, when you burst into her office. “Has someone died?”

“No,” you gasp out, “worse.”

Her eyebrows raise. “One of the drivers had a scandal? We can fix this. Get me B-roll of them volunteering or something. We can turn this around in no time.”

“No,” you say weakly, “the Internet thinks I’m dating Charles Leclerc.”

Your friend freezes in her seat, finger still hovering over the call icon on Fred Vasseur’s contact in her phone, then slowly sinks back again. “Well, yeah, I can see why.”

You gape at her. “What?”

Your friend spreads her hands. “He follows you around everywhere you go. He’s always asking about you, you know. I kind of thought you two had a thing as well, it’s not just the Tifosi.”

You break out into somewhat crazed laughter. “Charles? You think Charles likes me? No, that’s ridiculous.”

Your friend, however, looks less skeptical of this news. “Is it really? I mean, he spent the entirety of shooting just cracking stupid jokes so he could make you laugh. You should have seen the way he stared at you whenever you so much as smiled. Man was transfixed.”

You shoot her a disbelieving look. “No– transfixed? Are you kidding? He wasn’t transfixed. He wanted to win a contest because he’s a racing driver and they like to be the best at everything. I’ll tell you what it was, he was trying to win me over so I’d decide the competition in favor of his cooking.”

Your friend chuckles. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

You take a careful seat opposite her desk. “You’d better explain to me what you mean by that right now, or I swear, I’ll make you brainstorm TikTok ideas for the next month.”

Your friend shudders. “Anything but that, please. Those trends are so bad. Anyway, look, Charles has been obsessed with you since, like, the day you joined. I remember introducing you that day, actually, he was practically stammering over his words. Imagine that, someone who’s always so controlled with what he says whenever he talks to the press, and he can’t even say his name properly because a pretty girl is smiling at him.”

This whole situation feels insane. “Maybe you’re remembering it wrong or something. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t like me like that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Your friend asks slowly, and, well, it makes you think.

It makes you think about all of the videos you’ve shot with him, every discussion after a press conference. How taking candids for the Instagram of Charles always takes ten times longer than it should because he never looks at the camera, only at you. How you greeted him earlier this year at the first race of the season and he said what he missed most of all over winter break was you. How he wasn’t even kidding when he said it, just smiling, smiling like he’d never meant something more in his life.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, “Charles likes me.”

Your friend slaps her hand on the desk, startling you. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What do I do, then?” You ask.

Your friend looks like she’s about to scream. “You tell him how you feel, obviously!”

“I do?” You repeat haltingly.

“You do,” she says, “And he’s right across the hall now. Go talk.”

She all but pushes you out of her office, and then you’re alone in the corridor with Charles, who has just spotted you and is heading your way with the brightest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N!” He says, clearly pleased, “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t think our paths would cross until the next race.”

“Yeah?” You eke out, “Me neither, actually. Strange how things happen like that.”

Strange like friends with overly aggressive relationship advice. You’re certain that if you turned around now, you’d see her peering through the window in her door like some kind of stalker.

Charles nods. “I’m glad to see you, though. Did you notice that the last video did really well? I think that means you have to come around more often. You know, it’s what the fans want.”

“Speaking of the fans,” you say, “I happened to read through the comments and a lot of them seemed to think that you were flirting with me.”

You swear you can see Charles’ confidence fall in a flash. “What?” He protests a little too quickly, “that’s crazy. That’s, uh, really crazy.”

You nod. “That’s what I thought, but, on the off chance that you were flirting, I wouldn’t mind it.”

A small spark of hope forms in his eyes. “You wouldn’t?”

“I wouldn’t,” you decide at last, “because I like you too. If you like me, that is, and it wasn’t too crazy of me to say that.”

He’s laughing now, and you– well, you really do like him, you do, and something about seeing the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle up when he smiles makes you think at last about how long you have liked him, all the ways you realized you loved him but never admitted it to yourself.

“Alright,” he says, “Maybe it wasn’t too crazy after all.”

A pause, then:  “This does mean that you’ll be coming around more often, right?”

You smile. “Yes, Charles, I think it does.”

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #f1 charles #f1 charles imagines #f1 charles x reader #f1 charles oneshot

[sturniolosstar]

could you please write about obsessive chris and matt fighting over reader and trying to prove to her that they're better than the other? love your work, thank you <33

petty rivalry┆c & m sturniolo

summary - chris and matt always show their love for you, until it reaches the point where their affection clashes against each other.

pairings - obsessive!christopher and matthew sturniolo x female reader

cw - obsession, poly relationship, heavy arguing, mentions of sex, fingering, swearing, pet names

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

Their little competition for you stared off small.

With both of them craving your validation and attention, they would each show their love for you in ther own ways. That was until Chris began to challenge Matt.

It started off small.

He would give you extra kisses in the morning, his hugs would last longer and he would be extra touchy with you, especially when he knew Matt was watching.

Even if these acts were done silently, Matt knew exactly what Chris was implying.

And who was he to back down from a challenge?

⭑

'Chris, what are you doing?' Matt's stern tone stopped the moment happening between you and Chris.

The smile adorning your lips, showing your appreciation for the flowers Chris had gifted you seemed to fade away when you saw the anger written all over Matt’s face.

Your eyes widened at the sight of a bouquet in his hands, one similar to the one Chris had given you only a few minutes ago. One a bit too similar.

‘What do you mean?’ Chris smiled at his older brother, placing his arm around your waist as he pulled you ever so slightly closer to him.

‘What the fuck is that?’ Matt’s eyes trailed down to the bouquet of flowers in your hands, the flowers being your favourite ones.

‘It’s a gift for her.’ Chris’ head turned to look down at you as he responded to Matt, his grin widening at the view of you staring right back up at him.

‘Was it your idea?’ Matt’s eyes narrowed down at Chris.

‘You were only an inspiration.’ The younger boy shrugged.

‘It was my idea first.’ Chris stifled a laugh at the way Matt’s words were said through clenched teeth.

‘Well you didn’t give it to her first, did you?’

⭑

On anniversaries, arguments would be worse.

‘I told you I’m taking her out first!’ Chris’ voice boomed across the walls of your home as he stood in front of Matt, chest heaving and face furrowed in anger.

‘Really?’ Matt crossed his arms ‘You didn’t say anything until I bought it up!’

‘I didn’t say anything because I wanted to surprise her!’

‘That doesn’t fucking matter!’ Matt scoffed at how stupid his brother’s words were, his arms crossing.

‘It does matter because I told you I wanted to take her out first and you only said where you were gonna take her.’

‘It doesn’t. fucking. matter.’ Matt managed to get his words out through gritted teeth as he took a step closer to his brother, as if he was daring him.

You simply stood a few feet behind them, your eyes wide as you stood nervously, listening to the way they fought over you.

⭑

They were brothers, and loved eachother dearly. They knew that would never change, but when it came to you, their backs seemed to subconsciously turn on each other.

It got to the point where they would subtly drag you into their disagreements.

They would never let you into the arguments that lasted hours until they lost their voice due to the amount of screaming they did at each other. They couldn’t bare to see you in a situation like that.

But they couldn’t help but want to use you to get the other mad.

‘C’mon, Matt. Why are you yelling at me?’ The anger that drowned Chris’ tone seemed to wash away the moment he walked into the same room you were in, Matt following after him.

‘Because you’re being a fucking idiot!’ Matt’s hands angrily emphasised his words as he screamed at Chris.

‘And yet, look at who’s yelling.’

Chris’ words only made Matt’s anger rise beyond his limit, leaving him stunned and still.

‘You see who’s yelling, right baby?’ Chris’ eyes land on yours as he walks away from Matt, now standing in front of you.

His hand cups your chin, making you look at him, his grip tightening when you try to look away.

‘Who’s yelling?’

You winced at his grip ‘Matt.’

‘That’s right. You even heard him yell in the other room, didn’t you?’ Chris stands to the side, his still tight on your chin as he now has your gaze on Matt.

You nod softly at his words, your eyes trailing over the way Matt’s hands are clenched to his sides, his back and chest straight as he stares right back at you.

Chris smiles at this, Matt’s scowl only grows.

‘You’re a fucking idiot.’ His irritated shout at Chris was the last thing you both heard before the stormed up the stairs, leaving the two of you alone.

Chris doesn’t respond to this, he only kisses your head as he picks you up in his arms.

⭑

When it came to sex, it was a whole different story.

Some nights, Matt would fuck your mouth as Chris plows his cock into your pussy. Some nights, it would be the opposite.

But no matter what they were doing, they would compete against eachother until your cheeks were stained with tears, your eyes puffy from crying as you begged for them to slow down.

Your hips would squirm against Chris’ cold sheets as Matt’s fingers plunged in and out of your tight cunt, grinning from ear to ear at the way he’s making you react.

Chris pulls your back further against his chest, his arms tightening their grip around your waist as he kisses your neck, his face buried into the soft skin.

Matt’s grin impossibly widens at the Chris’ actions, noticing the acts he’s doing are an attempt to ignore the jealousy building up in his chest.

‘What’s wrong, Chris?’ Matt pouts in false concern as his fingers fasten their pace inside of you, smiling at the little gasp that escapes your kiss swollen lips.

‘Shut the fuck up.’

⭑

It was never their intention for this to go as far as they would take it every time. It was only because they loved you so much, that’s what they would tell themselves.

After all, it was only a petty rivalry.

⭑

taglist - @btwsturn @thesturniolos @mattsbratt69 @stramboli4life @ducksturniolo @st4rhubz @sturns-posts @sturniolo14 @sturnioloenthusiast @ivonchetooo1239 @littlebookworm803 @bellas-de3d @mattsneezing @sturniofilmd @athenamossymandella @mattslolita @ellie-luvsfics @st7rnioioss @qwertytit @33sturniolo @ilovechrissturniolo1 @muwapsturniolo @sturniolos-blog @realuvrrr @blahbel668 @sstvrnioloo @mattslutt @styles-sturniolo @wild4sturns @solarsturniolo @cypher-net @erikasurfer @pepsiluvr0209 @gamermattsgf @junnniiieee07 @stonermattsgf @55sturn @lookingformyromeo @touch0fecstasy @strombolilovr @imsosillygoofylol

⭑

#sturniolosstar #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you

[hanafubukki]

OMG, hello! As someone who is weak for this single bat dad, I love your Lilia work. We always see MC being sent to meet General Lilia and co in the past or in a dream but I wanna ask you what would happen if General Lilia was the one sent to present time, where Lilia and F!reader are already a couple and meeting current Lilia. Like, General Lilia still doesn't like humans but he feels attracted to reader and current Lilia would be such a little shit about it. I can't help but imagine him just kissing reader while staring at General Lilia in the eye or hugging them from behind while reader talks to General Lilia and giving him the biggest Cheshire grin. He's not jealous or anything but is such a troll about it...

Hello Calico-Queen 🌺🌻🌷

Thank you so much 💕💜 I'm happy to hear that. Lilia is always in the brain, so its wonderful to hear people enjoy these fics that I write.☺️🌺

That being said, you're the third person who has somehow ended up in my brain. Because this is a thought I have been thinking of for awhile now but haven’t put to paper, just stuck in head and day dreamed about. 🥰

…Careful, you might get stuck under all the diasomnia fic and thoughts 😂 jkjkjk

Who would know how to push your buttons better than...yourself?? Current Lilia is going to do exactly that. General Lilia is going to be shocked about you initially, but I think he would be more shocked about himself.

What had happened? Did Meleanor’s thunder knock a few screws or something?? Why is he like this?

He doesn't know when he will get back to his time but he will...try and get used to his current situation. It will take him a while to warm up to you.

But don't worry, he's the same way with Silver and Sebek. Even with Malleus there's a familiarity but also a hesitance...as if this was all a dream.

Once he gets used to you though, you can tell he has a crush. He's like a cat; he wants affection but doesn't know how to ask for it. The way you treat him has him nervous and he can't help but relax. But these feelings are so new to him and you're a human, he doesn't know how to treat you.

Current Lilia is laughing his head off on the side because he knows exactly what his past self is thinking and he's having fun teasing him!

Current Lilia is going to kiss and hug YN knowing full well that is exactly what his past self wants to do. Smirk at him as his past self glares. Oh? You wish you could be this affectionate with YN. Sorry General, you're 400 years too early Kufufu~

Ah~ but Lilia shouldn't let his guard down. After all, this is himself after all. General Lilia is nothing if not stubborn and will take up the challenge.

The General one day grabs your hand before kissing it in thanks for your kindness. Another time, he might even have the courage to kiss your cheek.

Somehow you end up in the middle of these two's...competition, but I doubt you mind dear reader. 🥰

#answered #Anonie ask #lilia vanrouge x reader #general lilia vanrouge x reader #Hana queues

[charles-eclair16]

~The 5 times Charles talked about you publicly~

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x actress!reader.

Warning- it's my first time ever writing so please be kind. English is not my first language so please ignore it if there are any mistakes.

1. The first time Charles was caught talking about you was pure accident and it wasn't even him who brought you up. It was an overly competitive Carlos who couldn't keep his mouth shut. It was during a C² challenge of who knows your teammate better and it was all going pretty much in Charles favour because the questions were too easy according to him. So when the score was 6 to 4 he was feeling pretty confident about winning but what he didn't expect was the next question to throw him off.

"Who's your current crush?" Was honestly not a difficult question to answer and Charles knew he would nail it. He totally knew who Carlos was crushing on.

"It's Y/N! He watches her interviews and giggles because she's so beautif-oww mate stop hitting me!“ Charles knew he had to make his teammate stop talking before he spilled anything more.

"Is it true?" Now this was a question Charles didn't know how to answer, should he own up that he was hopelessly crushing on her and that it was true that he watched all her interviews. But then again who could blame him she was so beautiful and he honestly loved the way she spoke, something about the way she spoke made Charles want to listen to her for hours.

"Yeah it's true. I really like her as an actress and she's very pretty but I don't giggle watching her!" He thought that was a decent answer.

"He does! He does it! He even watches fan edits of h-" Carlos was cut off by a wildly flinging hand of Charles.

" I do not!" was what Charles could come up with as he tried to stop Carlos. The next day he woke up with thousands of mentions of fans telling him that they understood...he didn't knew if he should feel embarrassed or laugh at some of the memes. He even liked a few of them.

2. The second time Charles mentioned you it was after you had soft launched each other for two months without the fans knowledge. It was nice to share secret moments with each other and bask in the privacy of home dates. It had been 7 months of dating and Charles was on the moon. His car was great, he was leading the championship with 10 points and he had a wonderful women supporting him. The only thing which bothered him was him not being able to shout his love and show you off to the world. So a mutual decision was taken between you two to not hide anymore but what you didn't expected was Charles to come running towards you as he got out of the car after coming p2 in the Silverstone Grand prix. You weren't even able to utter a word before he was kissing you. It wasn't a peck it was Charles expressing his love and gratitude for your unwavering support.

" How does winning feels now? Much sweeter than before?" Was the teasing question he got as he went to the post race interviews. He wasn't surprised. He knew he was going to get questions after a public kiss.

"Yeah, it feels great winning here with Carlos coming p1. It's a great weekend for our team" he laughed as he answered the question.

" So I'm sure you have plans to celebrate tonight. Any special plans?" He knew what the interviewer wanted to hear so he gave it to him with a smile so big he knew his dimples were all out.

" Yeah there's a plan to celebrate tonight definitely, the teams been throwing different ideas but honestly I would just prefer to spend my time with my girlfriend and have a quiet night. She came directly from her shooting so I'm sure she would want to stay in. And we can party with the team next time!"

It was safe to say that they both were trending worldwide.

3. At first Charles didn't know why he was trending and before he could check it he was asked to hurry up and get in the car. It was the worst race of the season for him. He was leading the race with pole position in France but he lost traction in his rear tyres and crashed into turn 11 which caused him the race. He was frustrated and tired. He just wanted to go back and not think about the horrible way he got out of the race. He wanted to cuddle you and forget about the day so when he was told to to attend a group media pen he was annoyed. When the question came he was speechless at first his brain shutting down from the ridiculous question.

" It's a very bad time for you Charles with the dnf and your recent breakup so how do you seperate these things from your work? Did your breakup caused you maybe to lose?" He wasn't aware of his break up.

"My what?!" Charles was shocked he didn't knew he was broken up because he was not planning to break up anywhere in the future.

"You didn't tell me you broke up?!" Perrie was genuinely confused now. If it was true wouldn't Kika tell him that? He knew the girls were close and he was sure that Charles would tell him that, wouldn't he?

"What did you do?" It was Lewis who glared at Charles and he finally got his wits to answer.

"No! We are very much together and happy! Who told you that we broke up?! Is that why I was trending Today?"

"Yes there was news that you broke up with your girlfriend and that you were heartbroken." The interviewer nervously let out a chuckle which caused the drivers to laugh

"Oh my god! No! We are together and I plan to be together for a long time so there's no need to worry about that ...I don't think I would survive without her pasta to be honest and her too." He reassured.

When he finally got the chance to check his notifications later in the night he could only laugh as he looked at the memes and the threats he got for fumbling a baddie like Y/N. He showed her some too as she layed on his chest on their bed.

4. The fourth time Charles gets asked is the first time he felt nervous talking about you ever in the entire 5 year relationship. It was because he knew he was absolute shit at lying. So when all the fellow drivers continue to tease Daniel for throwing the wedding party of the year. He remains quite and laughs at appropriate times.

" Charles you're quite there! So now that your friends are settling down with Daniel and Max getting married is it safe to assume that you're next?" Oh shit! He was sweating. He didn't know how to answer that without revealing that he had already picked a ring and was going to propose very soon. He had even taken her father's approval last month on their family trip together.

"Yes mate when are you getting married?"

"He's definitely getting married next!"

"With how whipped he is for her how do have any doubts about that!“ Charles tried to tune out the teasing remarks of his friends to formulate words to answer.

" Uh yeah, I would very much like to but we are focusing on the present at the moment but there's no doubt that I plan to marry her because honestly I can't imagine anyone else by my side when I think of my future. I want to start a family with her and get old with her. She completes me in the true sense and is my piller of strength. I don't think I have ever felt this much love for anyon-"

"And this is why we don't question Charles because then he doesn't stop!" Charles laughed at that as if Max was any better when talking about his wife.

"So yeah marriage is definitely on the cards on the future " he concluded.

And after 2 months he knew why he was trending and he couldn't be more happier. He now laughed at the mentions and yes he knew how to fight for his fiance.

5. The fifth time Charles was asked about you he was smiling ear to ear and anyone who looked at him can see that he was glowing.Others would say it was because he was starting the new season as a world champion but he knew it was because of Y/N and what she had told him the night before and later to their closed ones. So he felt quite happy answering questions.

"How are you feeling for the new season? Excited? Nervous?" the interviewer couldn't stop himself from smiling too. Charles happiness was contagious.

"It feels good to be back to the racing. The car feels good and after last year we are quite excited for this season too. We are looking forward to the races and with new tracks added to the calendar the excitement levels have increased. Yeah there's nervousness too-ah only little bit but that's totally normal...But I am quite confident! Also now I have to be a little careful because now that we are going to have new addition to the family I can't risk it! I have to-"

"New addition?" He stopped talking eyes widened and looked at the camera.

"What?" He was fucked, so fucked. She was going to kill him. He knew.

"You told new addition? Is it true? Are you going to be a father? Congratulations!" He could only nod and accept the hug he was receiving. They were supposed to announce it with a cute insta post and he had ruined it. He was the one to suggest it, he had even thought about the caption.

"Tell us more! Is she going to come to the races now? I'm sure everyone would like that?!" The interview continued

"Oh yes! Yes she wants to come to the races but I think we'll keep it a little private and only between family to enjoy this moment together. It's a new beginning with my person so I want to be there for her at every step. Its- it's definitely a blessing for us and I'm so grateful for her."

The next thing he knew he was trending along with y/n as parents and he couldn't ask for anything more.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 #formula 1 #fic rec #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 imagine #pierre gasly #max verstappen f1 #cl16 fanfic #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

[ilyluffy]

𝐹𝒰𝒞𝒦 ~ 𝒴𝒪𝒰 ~ 𝑀𝐸

𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: chrollo lucilfer + hisoka morow + illumi zoldyck + machi komacine

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut {minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked}

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: afab!reader, unestablished relationship, hate sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, size kink, degradation, slut shaming, face sitting {more warnings under the cut}

{jujutsu kaisen edition}

{genshin impact edition}

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐅𝐄𝐑

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!chrollo, thief!reader, hate sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, slight manipulation, size kink, rough sex

you considered yourself a pretty good thief. unfortunately for you on the last couple jobs you’ve been on, the phantom troupe beat you to the punch and stole a bunch of items that were supposed to be yours. safe to say you were starting to despise the group but the member you hated the most was no doubt chrollo lucilfer. the brains behind the operation made your blood boil so there was no doubt that things would get ugly when you accidentally ran into one another. you expect a fight to ensue between you and chrollo but instead he challenges you to a competition. whoever can steal a specific jewel first gets something from the loser. of course you accepted this wager, determined to have some sort of advantage over a man as powerful as chrollo. too bad for you, chrollo beat you to your target again and as the victor he got something from you. “i can’t believe THIS is what you want from me. who knew you were a pervert” you grit your teeth as chrollo’s fat cock bullies it’s way into your tiny cunt. chrollo seems unbothered by your jabs. “obviously no one’s taught you to respect authority” chrollo hums. “don’t worry. i’ll teach you how to behave”.

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐊𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐖

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!hisoka, phantom troupe member!reader, hate sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, somewhat rough sex

you haven’t liked hisoka since the moment he joined the phantom troupe. he wasn’t like the rest of the members. he had no sense of loyalty and obviously hisoka had a desperate agenda that he was keeping a secret from the rest of the group. that being said, you didn’t keep your dislike or your distrust of hisoka a secret. this unfortunately backfired because the more you expressed your hatred for him the more hisoka seemed to take a liking to you. just like you he didn’t keep his emotions hidden, always offering to fuck the hatred you have for him out of you. at first it was a definite no but as the tension grew… well eventually you do end up with your legs over his shoulders and hisoka’s cock deep inside your pussy. “d-don’t act smug. t-this doesn’t mean anything. i still hate you- ah!”. you get cut off by your own moan as hisoka snaps his hips particularly hard. he chuckles at your change of tune. “i’m sorry. what was that, sweets?” hisoka coos. “i think what you meant to say was that you love the way i’m making you feel. don’t worry. we’re not even close to finished”.

𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐙𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐘𝐂𝐊

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: assassin!reader, mean!illumi, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, hate sex, rough sex, hair pulling, choking/breath play, degradation, slut shaming

your family and the zoldycks have been rivals in the world of assassins for generations. so it was only natural that you and illumi would be professional competitors too. you were constantly fighting over jobs and trying to one up the other’s body count. all of this to prove that you were a better mercenary than the other. eventually this rivalry starts to have a negative affect on your work. you and illumi are so focused on putting an end to the question, which one of you was the best, that you lose sight of your target on your latest assignment. both of you were so frustrated that you took it out on each other in the most unexpected way. “it was all your fault” you hissed, grabbing a handful of illumi’s long silky hair as he thrust his angry cock into your pussy. illumi responds by wrapping his free hand around your throat. “no, it was yours you little whore” he growls as he squeezes your windpipe. “i’m going to show you what happens to sluts that get in my way”.

𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐊𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: phantom troupe member!reader, hate sex, face sitting, oral (reader giving)

machi can’t put her finger on it but she just doesn’t like you. it’s been that way since you joined the phantom troupe. her hatred for you is similar to the dislike she has for hisoka. she just doesn’t trust you and she tries to justify this with every move you make. you don’t know how to make her come around. maybe letting her sit on your face will make machi change her tune about you. “don’t think this changes anything” machi moans, grinding her pussy against your nose and mouth. “i still don’t like you but- ah! you’re good with your tongue”. all you can do is let out a muffled groan in response. meanwhile you’re tongue fucking machi’s cunt. there’s a chance that if you make her cum nice and hard she’ll like you. it’s unlikely but you might as well give it a shot.

2022-2023 © saecore — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome

#chrollo lucilfer #hisoka morow #hisoka #illumi zoldyck #machi komacine #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh x reader #hxh smut #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter smut #chrollo lucifer x reader #chrollo lucifer smut #hisoka x reader #hisoka smut #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck smut #machi komacine x reader #machi komacine smut #apollo writes ✎

[goldenmetstli]

What would Seto Kaiba be like if he were in love?

NOTES: I wrote this with a Reader Insert in mind, but to be honest you can also read it just as a general headcanon! Reader Insert is gender neutral.

I tried my best to write him as close to canon as I could because I think it's pretty interesting to explore how a man like Seto Kaiba feels romantic love (´｡• ◡ •｡`) ♡

★ He doesn't register his feelings and would never cross his mind that he likes someone. He is a little obsessed with them, that's all. And even then, he sees it as "being focused"

★ He doesn't know how to have healthy and normal relationships, not only romantic ones but friendships too.

★ He would never fall in love at first sight, it takes a loooooong time for him to even trust a person enough to consider them worthy of their time. He is the kind of person who sees everyone as a means to an end.

★ Seto has an obsessive, competitive, and antisocial personality, so in his mind, he associates liking someone with wanting to prove that he is better than them.

★ Every time Seto sees you he feels a mixture of excitement and smugness. He knows he would say the perfect thing that might disarm you and make you feel like an idiot but is always a little bit delightful if you have a comeback.

★ As his feelings grow, he notices that he NEEDS to see you. The fun thing about Seto is that he always has the perfect excuse to convince himself that there's a bigger reason why he randomly appears at a place that you frequent or why he knows a lot about you.

★ I don't consider him yandere because he doesn't have bad intentions, he is just navigating his emotions in his own way (he leans more into the tsundere territory). But as I said: he does get a little obsessed with you.

★ Would he ever acknowledge his infatuation? Well, after many situations and even comments from Mokuba pointing out his odd behavior (and that is saying a lot), in a moment of solitude where is just him and his thoughts, he might question for a moment if what he is feeling is attraction.

★ He then would laugh at how ridiculous that sounds and that would be the end of it lol It needs to pass more time for Seto to actually confront himself with his feelings.

★ Seto has been single his whole life, and even if his emotions have always been pretty intense (when he is angry he gets furious, when he is frustrated he gets desperate, etc) he doesn't register feeling romantic love for anyone, so this is new territory.

★ This man goes through all 5 stages of grief just by accepting his feelings for you and desperately tries to find a logical reason as to why he feels this way. Is uncomfortable, and awkward, and at times he gets angry at you.

★ It depends on the situation, on who you are, and what is happening around him to say if he would ever make a move.

★ But if he doesn't then he can live without you, he deals great with loneliness but that doesn't mean Seto would stop trying to see you on any occasion. He would just get better at controlling his feelings.

★ But what if his feelings grow to be LOVE? Then we are in trouble.

★ Another 5 stages of grief lmao poor guy HATES not being in control, and emotions are confusing, weird, and annoying. Why does he, of all people, have to deal with this? He hates you. But also don't. He hates your face, but he likes to see it, he despises your voice but he gets weird tingles when you talk to him. He admires your resilience but also wants to throw you from a cliff.

★ It depends if you are another duelist, an employee, or a normal person with a profession as to how he would act but I can see him being more aggressive towards you.

★ If you two are DUELISTS then he would get even more competitive and intense during your duels.

★ If you are an EMPLOYEE, Seto will raise your position to one where he needs to supervise you and create a lot of challenges for you to overcome (is his way to revenge for what you are making him feel).

★ If you are a NORMAL PERSON with a profession, he would make excuses to make your company work for him and feel near you. This is his way of making him feel like he is in control of his emotions and the situation...

★ Well! That's all for now! ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕 This is getting really long, so I might write in the future a second part as to how Seto would act as a boyfriend

#seto kaiba #seto kaiba x reader #yugioh headcanons #yugioh imagines #kaiba x reader #reader insert #yugioh x reader #happy holidays! this is how I spend the day of christmas #writing yugioh headcanons lmaoo

[moonstruckme]

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies

summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words

You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.

“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”

“You know why.” 

You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up. 

And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.

“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”

Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.” 

You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the change.

Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice. 

You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months. 

“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”

“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.” 

Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction. 

“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.” 

“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”  

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”

“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.” 

You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare. 

“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.” 

“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”

Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d ask him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.” 

“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway. 

You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan. 

Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.” 

☆ ☆ ☆

“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.” 

You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected. He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes. 

You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you. 

“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.” 

And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often. 

And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time. 

“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.” 

“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own. 

☆ ☆ ☆

“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.” 

You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.” 

“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.” 

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.” 

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”

You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography. 

So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse. 

Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough. 

You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled. 

“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance. 

He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”

“Reg won’t like it either.” 

“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”

You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”

“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.” 

You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves. 

The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark. 

“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.” 

You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”

“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once. 

“Fine. What are we doing here?”

You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.

Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it. 

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”  

You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.” 

“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He grins. “Because you just admitted it.” 

“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily. 

Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”

Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.” 

Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”

You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.” 

“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.” 

You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray. 

“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.” 

His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs. 

“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.” 

“I wasn’t ready,” you protest. 

Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.” 

You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.” 

He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.” 

It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed. 

“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”

You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door. 

☆ ☆ ☆

When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out. 

“Did you fix it?” he asks.

You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.” 

“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.” 

“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly. 

“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.” 

You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”

It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.” 

#sirius black #sirius black figure skating au #figure skater!sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black fluff #regulus black #the marauders #marauders #hp marauders #marauders au #sirius black au #sirius black series

[hoonvrs]

‘TIS THE SEASONS

PAIRING enha × gnr

DESC. how you’d spend christmas with enha

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNING swearing, play fighting

W. COUNT 0.8k

S. NOTES falalalalaaaalalalalaa

LEE HEESEUNG

( ice skating )

people often forget how good hee is good at ice skating with a professional ice skater in his group

but when he found out you were okay at best, insisted you had to go together 

i think he’d prefer to be holding hands skating together instead of teaching you from square one

would feel his heart fluttering from seeing you so happy on the ice

insists on holding your hand ‘just in case’

does it so he can have you close the whole time

regrets it instantly when you slip and pull him down with you

somehow still finds it romantic that you both now have matching bruises 

PARK JONGSEONG

( cuddling/hot chocolate galore )

as much as he loves cooking, he’d prefer to order in on christmas 

but of course, that doesn’t mean he’s not in the kitchen at all

saw a tiktok of different hot chocolate recipes and got hooked

convinced you that you guys needed to try them all for your movie date

got a different hot chocolate to have with a different movie

tried to theme it but tried too hard and messed up the designs 

best hot chocolate of your life but best believe you could barely finish the fourth one

anything to make jay happy, and he repaid by cuddling under heaps of blankets the whole night

SIM JAEYUN

( baking/decorating gingerbread )

jake doesn’t have a single baking bone in his body

don’t know what possessed him to think he could make gingerbread from scratch

gingerbread tastes like ass, good thing you already bought ready-made dough

everything becomes a competition between you two and this was no exception

challenged who can make the best gingerbread men and house

by the end, you have jellies, sprinkles, and other sweets all over the floor and table

somehow also ends up on the christmas tree???

turns out jake also can’t decorate so his house looked like a hot mess that you keep for display on the mantle next to yours

PARK SUNGHOON

( christmas market date )

begged you to go to the market on charismas day

both wearing your biggest scarves and fluffiest gloves cause its cold as fuck outside

practically dragged you the second he saw a churro stand

refuses to leave until you both tried nearly all the stands

walks along the river with a steaming hot drink in your hands

stay to admire the lights 

would put your hands in his pockets if you say you’re cold

refuses to let you spend a single penny cause he’s the best boyfriend ever

KIM SUNWOO

( cooking together )

sunoo has always wanted to cook with his s/o finding the intimacy cute

what better occasion than a christmas dinner

gets recipes and a few practice classes from his jay hyung a few days before so he’s prepared for you

you walk in on all the ingredients and bowls laid out with a smiley sunoo in the middle

could never refuse him anything when he asked to cook together so cutely 

went in overestimating both of your cooking abilities in making two dishes never mind five

three hours later you finally have your meal ready

actually wasn’t bad, so worth it seeing how proud he was renouncing himself as ‘enhypens new cook’ but don’t tell jay

YANG JUNGWON

( playing/fighting in the snow )

your date with jungwon didn’t mean to end in the snow

started when you threw a snowball at him after your little restaurant date

as much as he loves you, he also loves winning

thus, commencing the biggest snow fight of your life

talking rapid fire shots -- no survivors 

would stop when he hits you in the face by accident and goes to check up on you

worried thinking he hurt you until you flip last second and throw one back square in the face

ends with you guys making snow angels before going home both cold and wet

NISHIMURA RIKI

( tree decorating )

you almost had an aneurism when you saw the tree was still bare and it was already the 25th

screw all your plans’ you guys were going to decorate the tree instead

take a little trip to the closest shop to get a few missing decorations

can’t do anything with your boyfriend without a few playful arguments

ends with the tree having three different tinsel colours that clash cause neither of you would back down

every other bulb was a printed meme because riki doesn’t believe in separating decoration and humour

of course, lifts you up by the waist to put the star on the top because you’re his star

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu @ynsvnte @isawritesss

#saints works ( madewithlove. ) #enhanet #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfic #enhypen reactions #enhypen imagine #enhypen mlt #heeseung drabbles #enhypen jay drabbles #sim jake drabbles #sunghoon drabbles #sunoo drabbles #jungwon drabbles #niki drabbles #heeseung x reader #enhypen jay x reader #sim jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #kim sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabble #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours

[ellecdc]

hello!!! i love love love ur dating regulus headcanons and i was wondering if ur down to make one with sirius 🥹🩷 maybe with a lil sprinkling of sworn enemies to reluctant friends to lovers 👀 bc reader is in slytherin and we all know how that goes……….

you just write these characters with so much love and care and so close to how they’d be and act irl!! 🩷

Oof we love some inter-house enemies to lovers - thanks so much for your sweet words and for your request! 🫶

Dating Sirius Black Headcanons: Slytherin Edition

To know Sirius Black is to know his deep distain for Slytherins. 

It began as a kid when he finally took a look around at his family and thought “huh….I really don’t like any of you.” And he decided he’d like to be as different from his family as possible 

Now, when you’re eleven, the options of being different than your family are limited. 

One thing you can do, however? Is make sure you’re at least not a Slytherin like the rest of them.

If being ambitious, resourceful, determined, and clever … GREEN… meant being like the Black’s? No friggen thank you. 

Now, again, when you’re eleven, your vision of the world is skewed. So, this meant that he believed everyone in green and silver robes were just as bad as the green and silver robes that raised him.

Including you.

Your relationship (if it can even be called that) started with Sirius Black as you were often the unfortunate victim of many Marauder pranks. 

Some were relatively harmless…glitter bombs, stink bombs, charming the furniture of your common room to the ceiling, etc

Some were a little more distressing…charming your hair green, jinxing your textbooks to run away screaming every time you opened them, hexing you in the hallways 

You came to accept that part of being a Slytherin was being the victim of some torment…it also meant hating the marauders 

And it was so annoying because most of your house did actually deserve to be brought down a peg??? But you were literally just trying to get by so wtf.

You tried to keep your head down while also doing what you could to get back at the Marauders in your own little way

You just tried to be better than them at everything

It became a little bit of a competition between you and Sirius during shared classes

Better grades (usually you)

Who could raise their hand to answer first (Sirius)

Who could get the correct answer first (you)

Who brewed the better potions (roughly 50/50) 

You weren’t about to put yourself on a broom and agree to have balls thrown at you – but you learned everything you could about quidditch through reading and became an avid cheerleader for your house team

This slowly morphed into always cheering for the competitors of whatever team Sirius was cheering for in the Quidditch World Cup

Now, Sirius is popular…especially in the dating field…he’s well aware of this, and he can’t help but admit it does beautiful things for his ego

But Sirius is not the kind of guy to appreciate a partner who is a ‘yes-man’

He doesn’t want a partner who is following at his heels all of the time 

He’s not interested in a partner who thinks he’s always right and just takes his word for it

I truly believe Sirius would crave someone who would challenge him, push him to be better, someone who would teach him things instead of letting him be the smartest guy in the room

I also think he’d like someone who was kind of mean to him

“Hey L/N, couldn’t help but notice my name was above yours on the grades for last week’s assignments. Better luck next time, huh?”

“Sod off you stupid fucking wanker.”

He’d swoon a little I think 

This turned into a little competition on his end to see if he could fluster you

“I didn’t know she-devils could be beautiful too, Y/N. You’re blowing my mind a little.”

“One too many bludgers to the head, Black?”

Or

“Marauders are throwing a party in the room of requirement tonight. I usually don’t invite snakes but I’m sure we could make an exception for a pretty girl like you.”

“I’d rather choke on my own vomit.”

He’d try winking at you from across the room – he would only be spared an eyeroll.

He started making other comments, hoping to elicit at least a slight blush.

“You know, I hear you screaming at every Quidditch game. I can’t help but wonder how you’d sound screaming in my bed.”

You threw your pumpkin juice at him and left the Great Hall with a blank face.

It was infuriating - he loved it. 

Unfortunately for you, because you two were matched in terms of grades for class, you were partnered up for a project

He seemed a little too joyed at the extra opportunity to try to rile you up

“Look, Black, I know you like to coast through life, but do not mess with my grades because of whatever little infatuation you have going on with me.”

He wanted to be offended that you accused him of a) coasting through life and b) being infatuated with you, but you just looked so cute glaring up at him with your little nose all crinkled.

“Yes ma’am” he said simply

You were surprised by his agreeableness, but chose not to think about it too hard lest he change his mind

You kept your eye on him though

He actually didn’t make that bad a project partner – he was relatively clever, generally knew what he was talking about, and while he couldn’t go more than twenty minutes without teasing you or hitting on you, you got your work done, and done well.

You’d been having a bad day – put simply. You woke up at four am to the Slytherin dungeons being flooded (a prank you were sure was courtesy of the Marauders).

Your entire house had to vacate the dorms whilst the professors and Filch found the leak and dried everything up

It wasn’t until nearly six o’clock that you were allowed back in the dorms – and even then, everything was damp. Then, you slept through your alarm making you miss breakfast – your uniform still felt damp no matter how much drying charms you cast on yourself throughout the day, you had bags the size of a hippogriff under your eyes, and you were exhausted

Thankfully, Sirius had the good graces not to make any comments when you rushed to the library late to meet him, and you were sure you looked like you were in a proper state

Unfortunately, Mulciber and Snape weren’t as eager to let it go

Without warning, the inkpots on your table exploded covering you and Sirius and your work in ink

“Stay out of the dungeons, Black” Mulciber sneered.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” you screeched.

Snape almost looked apologetic when he took in the state of you. 

“Sorry, L/N,” Mulciber offered whilst sounding very unapologetic, “collateral damage” 

“Fuck that!” you said as you stood from the table. “I’m so fucking sick of being everyone’s collateral damage. I had my room flooded this morning too, you wankers. I’ve had my hair charmed green. I’ve had my textbooks jinxed to bite me. I’ve been hexed walking down the halls. I’ve been given detention for being out of uniform because my robes and tie were charmed red and gold. All of this even though I’ve never done a thing to the Gryffindors, but I choose to ignore it because I know it’s really only meant to piss you sods off, and I’m supposed to be some proud Slytherin who doesn’t concern herself with such childish play. So, you don’t get to show up here and expect me to be understanding when you’ve just made an already shitty day 700 times shittier!”

You ignored the librarian’s shouts about detention, house points and the like as you stormed out of the library 

You also missed the guilty expression that adorned Sirius’ face. 

You ignored and avoided Sirius and his stupid puppy dog eyes for a week after that. You redid all of your work that had been ruined that day in the library, handed it to Sirius and said “proofread it and edit it if you want, otherwise, hand it in and we’re done” before walking away again.

He tried sending you notes in class which you crumbled and threw back at him

You stopped trying to best him – no more grade comparisons, no more races to answer questions first, no more challenges to brew the best potion. None of it

If he thought of you as a heartless, emotionless Slytherin, then that’s what you’d be.

He stopped trying to get your attention after a while

You noticed that the Marauder’s stopped targeting Slytherin as a whole

You couldn’t really bring yourself to be thankful for it

They still pranked Mulciber, Snape, Malfoy, and the likes, however, which you were thankful for 

Until…

“L/N throws a fit and suddenly, Slytherins are left alone except for us. Tell me, did you tell your little blood-traitor boyfriend to lay off your friends?” Avery sneered condescendingly as you sat near the fountain in the transfiguration courtyard

You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore the lot of them

“pfft, hanging out with the likes of blood-traitors, next thing you know she’ll be whoring herself out to the likes of a filthy mudblood”

That you couldn’t ignore.

You saw red and, without thinking, launched yourself at Mulciber, both of you ending up in the water

Your fists seemed to have a mind of their own as they met the boy’s face over and over and over again

You felt your jaw click as his elbow met the side of your face and then the back of his hand struck you from the other side as he fought to get up from underneath you

You were both hauled out of the fountain by Hagrid, who was accompanied by Filch, and brought to detention

Unfortunately for you, Professor McGonagall was already hosting detention in the Transfiguration classroom – a few students plus the Marauders were sat quietly with quills and parchment in front of them when the squib caretaker pushed the door open, and the half-giant walked in with a sopping wet and bloody student in each hand.

“Caught these two fight’n, miss” he told her

“Oh, for goodness-” she started as she stood and came to inspect the two new arrivals.

“Mulciber, to the infirmary. Miss L/N-”

“I’m fine.” You spat, cutting the matron off.

“You should have your wounds seen to, young lady.” She admonished.

“I’m fine.  Are you going to give me detention or not?”

The professor grimaced but pointed you to an empty desk where a quill and parchment materialized. “you’re to write a foot worth of parchment about why what you did was wrong. Once you’re done, you’re to sit quietly until I dismiss you.”

You took your seat but made no motion to grab your quill or parchment

“Miss. L/N, start your parchment.”

“I can’t, professor.”

Every detentionee turned to look at you – save Sirius who already had his eyes glued to you from the second you had walked in – as the professor “begged her pardon”

“The way I see it, I didn’t do anything wrong.” You said simply.

“You didn’t do anything wrong?” She repeated incredulously

“Nope. I think people who call women whore’s or use the term mudblood ought to have their teeth punched in.” 

Sirius bit back a surprised snort at your response as he tried to ignore the warm feeling erupting in his chest 

“Fine, Miss. L/N. You will sit their quietly until I dismiss you. Are you sure you don’t need to see Madame Pomfrey?”

You wiped at the blood from the corner of your lip with your equally bloodied hands. “positive” 

Sirius was smitten

All of a sudden, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were? How lovely your voice sounded? And were you always so brilliant at everything you do?

He was even astounded by how gracefully you buttered your toast

Get a fucking grip, Black

I believe, to everyone’s absolutely shock, the cocky, playboy, Casanova Sirius became so unbelievably enamoured with you, he was so afraid to say anything to upset you/scare you away

But he wasn’t going to let you go

You still weren’t speaking to him, but you were no longer glaring at him – so this was a start

Every night you’d go to bed and there’d be a little tear-drop shaped chocolate on your pillow. You have no idea how it got there, who put it there, or even what a Hershey’s was. 

And you knew better than to trust suspicious things found around the castle 

So, you placed it in a jar on your bedside table and went about your life

A tear shaped chocolate was on your pillow every night for the rest of the week (until the end of school, quite frankly)

None of your dorm mates had any clue where they were coming from

Flowers were delivered to you every morning with the owl post. Not bouquets – but singular flowers 

By the time you had a jar full of those Hershey thingies and a full vase of flowers, a note was delivered with a familiar scrawl: meet me in the Astronomy tower tonight at 8

Now, Black had been on his best behaviour lately – but you knew better than to show up with your guard down

Sirius waited on the astronomy tower lookout, chain smoking, taking on and off his leather jacket as he was concerned he looked “too much like a tool” as Remus put it, hoping by all the gods you would actually show

“Alright, what’s the deal, Black? Gonna throw me off the lookout? Put a spider down my shirt? Is there a bucket of slime somewhere?”

Sirius’ heart nearly stopped at the sound of your voice, and then he barked a laugh when he saw you standing there in dueling stance with your wand aimed at him

“First of all, why would I throw you off the tower? Second of all, those are amateur pranks, I think I’ve earned a better reputation than that.”

You seemed to consider that as you lowered your wand but continued to look around skeptically “We’ll see…”

“Did you like the kisses?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Sirius laughed 

“The chocolates? They’re called Hershey’s kisses”

“That was you?”

“Uh huh, and the flowers”

“Why?”

Sirius smirked at you “for being so smart, you’re kind of dumb.”

“Sod off.”

“I fancy you, L/N.”

You stared at him in bewilderment “why?”

“Why?

“Why.”

“Let’s see. You’re the smartest witch I know. You put in me in my place every second sentence you speak. You’re talented, you’re stunning, I found out you attacked a man almost twice your size and won because he was a misogynistic racist and then refused to apologize for it, and because…you’re right.” 

“I’m right about a lot of things, Black; you’re gonna have to be more specific”

“I was prejudiced too. My family was hateful and Slytherin, so I spent my life assuming all Slytherin’s were hateful; I know now that those words are not synonymous. And I took that out on the lot of you – you didn’t deserve that.”

Was Sirius Black admitting that he was 1) wrong, 2) taking responsibility and 3) declaring his feelings for you?

“You’re brilliant. I just thought you should know.” he said at your silence

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you want, I suppose. Preferably give me a chance.”

“A chance to what?”

“To be yours.”

You said you’d “think about it” but to Sirius, you may as well have given him a resounding yes. He whooped and swept you up in a hug. He placed you back onto your feet and looked between your eyes and your mouth – a silent question.

In for a penny, in for a pound – am I right?

That was followed by a lot more kisses – chocolate and affectionate in kind

Sirius absolutely made some grand announcement in the Great Hall to establish that you were officially “thinking about” being his girlfriend so…. everyone can just do with that information what they will

You were horrified

You sent a stinging jinx at him for it

Definitely following around like a puppy who’s just so damn excited to see it’s owner

“What shops are we hitting at Hogsmeade first?”

“I didn’t realize we were going to Hogsmeade together?” you asked incredulously

Sirius scoffed as if you said something ridiculous. “’Course we are babe.” Which he accentuated by smacking a kiss on your cheek 

The kind to buy you everything you even look at in the store

“Come on babe, I saw you eyeing that book; of course I bought it for you!”

You started going to Quidditch games even when Slytherin wasn’t playing

You refused to show up wearing a red scarf

Your green scarf was charmed red once you were stuck in the stands

How your relationship first began with Sirius Black back in your first year became a foundation of your relationship going forward

You spent the rest of your lives pranking, jinxing, and charming each other

#sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #dating Sirius black headcanons #sirius black headcanon #marauders au #marauders era #ask elle #reader insert #self insert #slytherin #gryffindor #inter-house rivalry #enemies to lovers #ellecdc fics

[charlie-lec-stories]

Better // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: You can cure the enmity between Max and Charles, but never their competitive drive.

Warnings: A tiny little bit of angst, but not much. Charles and Max taking things too far (like always).

Author’s Note: A story that explores the power battles inside a poly-relationship where there are three dominant people. A little story time: I wrote this while living in Argentina -something about me, I'm Spaniard but been living in Argentina for like, forever- and since my characters were inspired by friends of mine, the characters were originally Argentinian. I'm actually too lazy to think of another nationality for the female character and also it'd take too long to change it all the time to do something more culturally neutral, so I will leave it like that, sometimes you may find some things about her being latina, but not too much, so if you'd rather ignore it, knock yourself out! Rate: +16 (inappropriate language)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She loved them. She really did, with her whole heart, but she had never felt so tempted to throw them both out the window as right now. It started as a harmless breakfast, just the three of them, and what was just a simple comment of how much she loved the perfume Max brought for her, became the spark that ignited Charles' competitive side. He just couldn't help it, he had to say that the Channel one he brought was better on her. She never said anything about Max's being better, she just said that she loved it, because she did. Of course, Max took that personal, and five minutes later they were spraying her wrists with both perfumes and pressuring her to choose which one was better. Because that was the word that always meant trouble around them. They had fought their whole lives to settle which one of them was better and they just needed to bring that into the relationship too. Who wore the best outfit, who was a better driver, who was better at video games, who played football better, who was smarter, who read more books, who could name more capital cities, who had more points on Grill the Grid, you could make her moan first, who could unclasp her bra faster, who lasted more, who got less tired, who brought the best gifts... It was constant. At first, they would argue about it, random accusations of cheating at every game or challenge they faced, convinced that the other one simply couldn't be better. Mean comments thrown in the middle of situations that should be about love and pleasure. After a few times of Y/N simply grabbing her clothes and getting dressed again, leaving them alone in the room, they stopped arguing, but never competing.

"C'mon, mon amour. I know that you love this one". Charles insisted, caressing her hand and smiling at her.

"I do-"

"I told you". Charles cut her off to show Max who won.

"She loves mine more, that's why she wears it all the time. Right, Schat?". She just wanted to be swallowed by the earth.

"Of course I love yours-".

"More, you love it more". Max finished the sentence for her. She was not going to say 'more', she was planning on saying 'too', but it was pointless to argue. It was true, she wore Max's often, but she also kept Charles' for important occasions, it was just that both perfumes were for different types of situations. Charles' was too elegant and expensive to use it everyday, and Max's has perfect to wear on her daily basis. But they didn't want to hear about that.

"She didn't wear it for the gala last year. I don't think she likes it that much, Max". Charles was definitely looking for an argument.

"She just said it, are you deaf?". Things were escalating quickly.

She barely got out of that alive.

The next week it was race week, and they were already on edge with the competitiveness. The first free practice session went alright, Charles was the fastest, 0.011 faster than Max, and the Dutch just couldn't take it. He wanted to do better than Charles in practice two, but he just simply couldn't. When it came to speed, Charles was an expert and Max had a hard time accepting that. He complained the whole drive back to the hotel. She had agreed to go to and back from the paddock with him because they were staying at the same hotel. He talked about Charles and his powerful Ferrari engine like they were Netherlands' number one enemies, stating the he was kicking Charles' ass the next day at practice three. She just let him talk, take things off his chest. It was just Friday and they were already racing. She was competitive, you can't thrive in Formula One without competitiveness, but she did the best she could to leave that out of the relationship. Even if she wanted to win and do better than them on the sport, she was aware that love celebrates each other victories and supports through the defeats. Once back at the hotel, Max did what he always did when he felt like he had given a bad performance on the track, he searched for reassurance. Sex had been, though the whole history of human kind, one of the most primal ways of getting someone else's approval, and even if she enjoyed it, it wasn't the most healthy coping mechanism for his frustration.

"Max, we should sleep". She said while he kissed her neck and pulled at her clothes, they had barely set foot inside the room and he was already all over her. "We have practice tomorrow, and Qualifying. We need the sleep".

"I'll make you feel good and then we sleep". He kept softly pushing her towards the bed, his hand sneaking under her shirt after she didn't take it off as fast as he wanted her to. "I promise, Schat, please".

"Okay, but we can't stay up too late".

They did stay up late, and the next day she was extremely tired, the few hours she got of sleep not enough for her to be properly rested. Charles noticed instantly what they had been up to the night before. It wasn't the first time that Y/N and Max had alone time, just as he had with her sometimes or as the two men did whenever she was out with friends or back at home visiting family. But the sight of her fighting sleep and Max's big ass smirk when he passed him by just fueled Charles' most petty side. It was the implied 'I won' that made Charles furious. Max did better at free practice three and then, got pole in Qualifying. Charles ended up fourth, behind Y/N on second place and George Russell between them. Now it was his turn to be pissed. He went straight back to his hotel and sent Y/N a message, telling her that he wanted to see her. She knew what to expect, so when Charles pinned her against the door, she wasn't surprised.

"Don't. We're not doing it, Charles". He stopped attacking her collarbones instantly and looked up at her eyes. She was dead serious. "I mean it".

"Okay". Breathing heavily, he moved backwards just a few centimeters, giving her some space. "Can I ask why?". She huffed. "I know that you don't own me an explanation, I'm just curious. I promise".

"I'm just tired. I need to sleep". She looked genuinely exhausted. "I can't be the referee of your competition with Max tonight".

"I don't want to make love to you just to compete with Max, Amour". She scoffed, feeling kind of insulted.

"Tell yourself that enough and you might believe it". She was properly angry and Charles started to recognize that things were going too far.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way". But she was way past apologies.

"You're just a pair of troglodytes!". Charles did a mental note to search for that word later, it definitely wasn't good, but he just didn't know how bad it was. "I'm sick and tired of being in the middle of your little beef. If you want to know who fucks better just go ahead and fuck each other and leave me out of it". With that, she stormed out of the room.

"Troglodytes veut dire... hommes des cavernes? Putain". (Troglodytes means... cavemen? Fuck).

They did fuck up bad.

Charles woke up the next morning with Max pounding his fist on his room's door. He checked the time before getting up, a lot earlier than when he needed to be up. He walked to the door and let Max in. His boyfriend was notoriously anxious, he kept rambling in Dutch and mixing it with some English words. From what Charles could grasp, Y/N refused to let him into her room last night and then left him on seen when he texted her goodnight. Charles already knew she was mad but for Max, she had just gotten angry out of nowhere. "We are troglodytes", Charles informed Max, who looked kind of surprised that Charles would use that word. But she was right, as a pair of cavemen, they just kept sizing each other, as if being better would make them more worthy, and through all that competition, they both lost. They had to fix it, whatever it took. If they wanted to be better so bad, then they had to do better. They sat together and thought about what they should do. Buy a gift? Make her some good dinner? Charles started writing a list of options on his phone. Max was more worried about starting on the first row with her at the race. If there was something that could scared them, it was their girlfriend driving angry. He was in trouble. At the paddock, Max and Charles were given the cold shoulder, not only by their girl, but also by Oscar and Lando, who most surely were up to date with what happened.

"Lights out and... We're racing in Hungary!". Max was forced out of the track in a blink, the Mercedes car that started next to him taking P1 and sprinting off. He went down to P3, overtaken by George too. It was kind of embarrassing, how easily she stole the race from him, just like that. Charles was close behind, in P4, and he knew that he had to build some distance because Charles couldn't be trusted with any gap. The Mercedes just flew off and Max decided to focus on keeping P3 and getting himself into the podium. P5 was Fernando Alonso, to say that Max was worried would be an understatement. He had to fight Charles while also making sure that Fernando didn't overtook them both. After his first pit stop, he got to pass George -who went down to P5- and get P2, Charles still visible on his right mirror, trying to take the inside line. They mede a little contact at the turn and Christian complained over the radio. He was in trouble, but Max couldn't do anything, the car was slow and he was doing what he could. Ferrari was so quick he could barely keep Charles at bay. GP, his race engineer, informed him that Fernando was on DRS range to the Ferrari number 16 and that the chances of the monegasque getting overtook were high. Max tried to decide: getting close to Charles and risk P2 or put some distance and then fight Fernando, who was faster than his boyfriend.

"I'll push, then focus on Fernando". He couldn't concentrate on everyone, he had to choose. Leaving Charles on his own gave Max time to build a gap with Fernando, and also made the Ferrari waste more tyre, giving him an advantage over Charles after Fernando inevitably overtook Max in a few laps. At least he could get P3.

No one was shocked when Y/N won the race, she had driven like a beast, completely untouchable. After parking her Mercedes behind the P1 sign, she ran to her team and hugged everyone. That gave Charles time to weight himself and take all of his head protections before running to her. Even if the world didn't know about Max, their relationship was public and they agreed on keeping it like that. He waited patiently for her to finish with her team and then walked to her, helping her take off her helmet and balaclava and kissing her fondly. He might be P4, but his girl won the Hungarian Grand Prix and he couldn't be happier. Max walked to them and hugged his girl, kissing the side of her head and telling her how proud he was of her. She walked out to the podium with her chest filled with pride, the Argentinian national anthem putting a smile on her face. Charles found himself proud too, as he watched his girl get her trophy and golden medal, Max standing at her right and looking at her with adoration.

The drive back to Max and Y/N's hotel was quick, them leading the way and Charles following. She was in a better mood, but she still felt like they needed to apologize properly to her for being a pair of machos, as she called them when she complained to Lando and Oscar. It was actually the brit's idea to fuel her anger to make her a menace on the track. The McLarens could barely grasp P10 there so he knew that they weren't winning that race, if he had to choose someone to get P1, he'd choose her. He made it clear: "They fight to see who's better but they never stop to consider that you could be better than them both. Doesn't that make you angry?". And damn angry she was. He wanted to watch the world burn to the ground so he could gossip about it later. "Show them who's truly the best". She walked out of Max's car not even looking back at him and completely ignored Charles, who parked next to them. They both followed to her room in complete silence. Inside, they sat on the bed and looked down at their laps, not knowing what to expect. Will she yell at them? Will she threaten with braking up? She opened a bottle of vodka from the minibar and poured 1/3 on each of the three glasses she had on the room's table, filling the rest of the glasses with orange juice. At least, if she was going to scream at them, they could down it with some alcohol. But after handing them the glasses, she never raised her voice. On the contrary, she changed her clothes in silence and sat on the little couch in front of the bed, at the other side of the room.

"I was named the most stylish person in motorsport by Vogue, trice. I have a 7 time World Champion as my mentor and Sebastian fucking Vettel as my race engineer. I can play almost every sport. I finished high school with perfect grades. I can play the viola and cello. I can sing. I have the best score on Grill the Grid. I'm the first woman to ever win a Grand Prix and the first latina to ever race a whole F1 race. I bagged Monaco and F1's golden boy and the most dominating driver of the decade. I just have to give you one kiss and you're on your knees, desperate and begging". She made a pause and Charles and Max looked up, watching her observe the bottom of her glass like it was the most interesting thing. She sighed and stood up, walking up and stopping in front of them. They looked at her from below, following her every move. She placed the glass on the nightstand and clicked her tongue, disappointment tinting her next words. "You both acted like pricks, the only things that you didn't measure against each other were your dicks, and if you did, I don't wanna know". They both looked away, blushing, the answer to that comment revealed, and she rolled her eyes. "This competition of yours has been the most pathetically macho thing you have done and you forced me to not only witness it but, also, be a part of it".

"We're sorry, Schat, we-".

"I'm not done talking. Don't interrupt". Max shut up and nodded. "What you did sucks and I should totally be mad at you for some time, but I think you learned your lesson tonight, after the demolishing victory I pulled against you". They both nodded eagerly, happy that she was forgiving them.

"Thank you, mon amour. We'll try and do better". Charles said and reached out to her, his hand coming to the back of her knee to bring her to his lap. She decide to place each leg between theirs, sitting on both Charles' left leg and Max's right. She took their faced in her hands gently, to make them look at her.

"You're welcome". They sent her their best smiles. "I know that you'll keep competing against each other to see who's better... just know that if I'm in the picture, you're always fighting for P2".

They both were well aware of that.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay, since I've seen that most of you guys like this series, I'll give it priority over other stories. Thank you for reading!

#charles leclerc imagine #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #max vestappen one shot #max verstappen x reader

[aclowntiny]

Good morning/evening 🥳🤩

Can you do ateez reactions when they loose a bet with their s/o? (Any type of bet and of what the looser has to do) 💖💖💖

Call Your Bet!

Hello friend, hope you like this variety of bets 😘Warning: varying levels of suggestive (never explicit as always)! Sorry for late post here, I have covid 🤪🤙🏻

Hongjoong

Insinuating you knew the guys better than their leader was, in fact, fighting words, but you didn’t care. It was fun to tease Hongjoong, though perhaps it had gotten out of hand.

“I bet you you don’t know them all,” he challenged you, arms crossed.

Exhaling, you felt your posture drop. You weren’t afraid of a little betting, it was just that you were with a man who had expensive tastes. “What are you wanting to bet on this?” It wasn’t even that big of a deal, just that you could remember all the Ateez members’ drink orders.

“Hm,” he put a finger to his chin, gazing at you playfully, “how about a massage?”

Your eyes perked back up at that, a smile creeping onto your lips- that you could do. Gladly. A bet with no punishments was certainly not what you expected. “Of course. Let’s go.”

~

“Wow, how’d you know what we wanted without asking?” Yunho inquired with a smile.

“I just know you guys that well,” you replied, gaze sliding from your friend’s wide eyes to those of your incredulous boyfriend.

Hongjoong for his part glowed with pride. For all his bravado, it did his heart good to see you caring for some of the people he loved most. Laying a hand on your shoulder, he pulled you closer. Your heart settled warmly…at least until he leaned closer and whispered in your ear.

“I’ll show you later why I feel like I won.”

Seonghwa

“There’s no way I’m losing at this!”

“Come on, I know exactly what he's going to say."

Goofing off with your boyfriend, you'd made a bet that you knew how Hongjoong would reply when he entered the room. Seonghwa, of course, insisted he knew his best friend better and thus came the agreement that the winner would choose the next couples' day activity. Likely a movie or a new lego set if Seonghwa was the victor.

“There’s no way if you tell him we’re going to be making a mess in here the first thing out his mouth won’t be ‘no’ or ‘don’t you dare’!”

“Well, I think he’ll at least ask what we’re doing first.”

Seonghwa’s mouth opened, but footsteps at your back cut his chance of a snappy retort. The doorknob clicked as the man of the hour entered the room, greeting his friend first, then you with faintly pleased surprise.

“Hi, Hongjoong! Is it ok if we kind of make a mess in here?” You asked him innocently.

Ateez’s leader instantly arched a brow at you, glancing between you and his best friend. “Doing what? Are you tearing the whole place up?”

“Oh, like your reforming doesn’t do that,” Seonghwa teased him with a little shove.

For your part, you just pointed at him. “That counts! That counts though!”

“Yeah, you were right.”

Hongjoong’s smile fell. “What did I do?”

“We’re not actually making a mess,” you replied with satisfaction as you glanced between both men, “I just get to give Seonghwa a makeover now.”

Yunho

When Yunho invited you to game with him, he’d expected you to get competitive within the actual realm of the game itself, but alas. You taunted him with bet after bet until he finally agreed, sealing, well, someone’s fate.

“I bet I’ll win.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I bet the hoodie I will.”

He turned to face you with a look of exasperated amusement, hands leaving his laptop keyboard. “How can you bet my hoodie?”

Yunho had one hoodie you’d been desperate to steal ever since he first lent it to you. It was the most amazingly comfortable oversized dream of a garment and it was even your favorite color. Many a joke had been made in light of its wonders.

One corner of your mouth tilted up as you gave him your sassiest little head tilt. “You know how.”

You saw a look flash across his eyes ever so briefly, his most YA shut-up-make-me look, but then it faded into pure smugness. “Alright, fine. If you want it so bad, you’ll have to earn it. Ready, babe?”

All you could do was grin and ready your own screen, swiveling to face it. “You know it.”

~

“Well, I’ll be. Hiding was your whole plan?” Yunho’s look of equal parts frustration and awe as he spun in his chair to face you furthered your victory high, raising your smile and speeding your nod even more.

“Well, it was a survival match,” you reminded him with a shrug, “now pay up.”

Shaking his head fondly at your grabby hands, Yunho rose, stretched, and crossed his room to the closet, where he extricated your precious trophy and tossed it to you with a playfully voiced “Catch!”

Squealing with joy, you sat up to do just that, all but cuddling the garment to yourself as you savored the feel, the scent.

As he sat back down in his gaming chair, your boyfriend leaned against his desk with a soft smile. “Man, if I knew you were going to be this cute about it, I would have just given it to you.”

Hey, at least he got a kiss for a consolation prize.

Yeosang

“I’m going to find it first!”

“Says who?”

“Says me! I’m always lucky with these sorts of things,” you told your boyfriend.

Strolling across a green field had somehow turned into a competition, not that you regretted it as your heart sped a bit at the excitement and your chest burst with chuckles at the skepticism on Yeosang’s face.

Four-leaf clovers struck your fancy as you’d strolled, waving greenery reminding you of old tales of luck, not to mention childhood experiences searching for them and calling yourself a leprechaun if you found one. Thus bargaining with Yeosang for a pot of gold of your own.

“Loser buys dinner!”

At that, your boyfriend pouted. “I was going to buy dinner.”

“Then you better lose,” you winked and ran past him, bending over to scan the widespread greenery for wondrous irregularity.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him bend his knees too, stepping forward in the comical waddle you were surely mirroring. Trios of leaves danced in the breeze before your sight, drawing your focus such that your vision began to blur-

There! You had no idea how many minutes had passed, but right as your knees began to ache and the clover growth had practically burned its pattern into your vision, a beautiful variation to it all. A four-leaf clover.

“Found one!” You exclaimed in triumph, plucking it for proof.

The wide-eyed look on Yeosang’s face alone was priceless, the shocked smile slowly spreading across his… wait a minute.

“Did you lose on purpose?” Hand on your hip, you fixed him with an accusing look.

Batting his eyelashes innocently, he singsonged, “Maaaaybeeeee….”

“Hun,” you sighed.

He stepped closer, taking hold of your shoulders. “I just wanted to spoil you, what can I say?”

“Alright, sweet-talker,” you shook your head, leaning in for a quick kiss.

San

“So you think you can beat me at my own game?”

“Yes, obviously, that’s why I’m betting with you,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at San playfully.

Your boyfriend had taken you to the amusement park and you’d endeavored to see who could go the longest on the biggest roller coaster without screaming.

Pulling you into his chest, he shook his head with amusement. “So the loser buys the winner a souvenir?”

You nodded into his shirt, stepping forward in line.

“Sounds good to me. You’re on.”

“You’re going down.” Even as you chugged to the top of the most massive hill you’d ever been on, your eyes were locked firmly upon San’s sculpted profile, the way his fell back onto you as he turned.

“I’m sure I am,” he replied right as your car began its descent.

The moment the momentum started he threw up his hands and let out a loud whoop. You laughed despite the wild hoot it came out as, fixing San as best you could when a sharp turn threw you into his side.

“You didn’t even try!” You shouted over the wind’s exhilarating rush.

San grinned against the assault of air. “I want to buy you stuff!” He exclaimed triumphantly as you sailed down the next smaller hill.

Mingi

Corny as it may have been, you guys decided to try one of those couples’ bets where you see who can go the longest without touching the other. You had bragged enough about it being easy that if nothing else, your pride was at stake let alone any penalty.

You weren’t the type to play dirty (in this case literally or figuratively), so for the most part you just went about your day, though you had worn Mingi’s favorite outfit on you and you couldn’t help a faint smirk at the way his eyes traveled up it.

“Ready for the first movie, hun?”

“Yep!” For all his wandering eyes, your boyfriend had relegated himself to the furthest edge of the couch where he sat straight as a pin, hands folded in his lap.

With a snort, you chose the middle cushion, placing yourself just out of his reach and crossing your legs. “Popcorn?” You held out the bowl in your hand.

Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward and curled his fingers around the top edge to lift it from you. “Nice try.”

You shrugged. “I’m just trying to enjoy the movie. You gonna be ok with this one?”

“Yeah,” he replied between crunching mouthfuls of popcorn, “of course I am, why?”

“I dunno,” you answered in a faint singsong and batted your eyelashes innocently, “it’s a pretty romantic movie.”

“So what?”

~

So what indeed. You heard the springs of the couch before anything, turning more out of curiosity, but you barely had time to register a single sight as Mingi surged forward and yanked you into an electric kiss in time with the main interests’. His hands slid from your shoulders down to your waist, your hips, as you metaphorically shook off your surprise and responded.

“To hell with the bet,” he said as you pulled away, satisfaction joining the smattering of red across his face at your smile.

“You won’t be saying that when you have to do whatever I say for a day,” you reminded him.

“Maybe I like that punishment,” he shot back with a shameless smile, returning to his sweet laugh the moment you playfully shoved him.

Wooyoung

“You’ve really never tried this before?”

“When would I get a chance to?” You countered, shifting beneath the sheets to face Wooyoung.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, leaning just inches from your face as his voice lowered, “you tell me.”

You accepted the kiss before you spoke, smiling into the shocking passion of it and leaning in deeper before you finally broke it. “I’m not exactly the ‘stay in bed all day’ type on the average day.”

“I know,” he leaned over you with a grin, “that’s why there are stakes. Last to get up and you get to pick how we spend the afternoon.”

“Or evening.”

His eyebrows shot up and down. “Or evening.”

You laughed and gave him a little push away, but he came right back forward to wind his arms around your waist. “There’s no way we’ll stay down that long. We’ll have to eat or, you know, go pee or something.”

“Not if we keep busy enough to forget.”

You didn’t disagree with the logic there, but he still got a light smack with a pillow.

~

“You know what?”

Wooyoung pressed even closer to you- if that was even physically possible. “What?”

“You’ve got me on your side now. This day’s been almost perfect.”

His eyebrows raised at that as he searched your gaze. “Almost?”

“Yeah, it’s been great,” you replied, giving him your most earnest eyes.

“But what could make it better?” He urged you, one of his hands finding yours.

“I’m just thirsty is all.”

Over a drink, yet his stare was so intense, eager. “I’ll get your favorite.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” you told him.

“Anything for my darling.” Pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, Wooyoung rose from the bed, pulling on his robe. “I want to.”

“Ha!” You exclaimed. “Sucker! I can’t believe that worked!”

Realization hit him like a ton of bricks, widening his eyes and slumping his shoulders. “Oh, shit.”

“I win!” You cheered, raising your hands above your head.

He crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at you despite still crossing the room to fetch your drink. “Whatever. We were probably going to pick similar things anyway.”

“True,” you giggled, rolling your eyes fondly, “but I’ll find a way to make it interesting, don’t you worry.”

Jongho

He started it, teasing as ever and confident in his victory if his crossed arms and prematurely triumphant smile said anything. Leaning against the counter, he’d briefly enjoyed your amusement at the apple he’d snapped in half for you before speaking.

“Bet you couldn’t break me one.”

“What,” you’d just teased, “getting tired of being the strong man?”

“No, it’s nice to be powerful,” he grinned shyly, “but I’ve just never seen you try anything like that before.”

You’d seen it done by ordinary folk before. Sure, why not? It was Jongho’s shtick and you never moved in on it, but if he asked, so be it. Reaching over to your countertop basket, you curled your fingers around one’s shiny red surface and straightened. “What are you betting?”

“Hmmm,” he paused, dark eyes drifting upward in thought, “a massage?”

“So boring! I want you to watch my favorite show with me!”

“All of it?” His eyes widened; his fingers flexed faintly against the counter. “How many seasons is that? Isn’t that a lot for one apple?”

“Alright,” you stepped closer to teasingly nudge him, “fine, first three episodes, then you can bounce.”

“Not that I’ll need to. Begin,” he urges with a grin and a wave of his hand.

Again, you’d seen this done plenty of times. One trick you remembered was to roll your thumbs when you squeezed and twist opposite directions- right? You liked to think if Hongjoong could do it, so could you, not that he wasn’t fit. If you had half the pecs he did-

Snap! Ok, guess it was opposite directions, because with a kickback of your hands you felt the pressure of a tear and saw two distinct halves, one upon each palm. Your smile rose dramatically like The Grinch’s as your gaze slid back up to meet Jongho’s.

“So…wanna make some popcorn?”

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seongwha #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #ask #anon #requested

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Himbo Househusband Loves When…

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when you take the day off to workout with him. Whether your and exercise buff or just trying it out, he’s in bliss. Being strong is Morgan’s strongest suite, hence his underground name being Behemoth, so his heart’s beating a mile minute. Sometimes it’s more exciting than pummeling those ambushers in the underground. It’s even cuter when you struggle with his toned down work out.

“Ergh! How do you even move this? This is literally three tons!”

“Ah don’t worry babe, that’s just for a warm-ups!”

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when you purposely touch his muscles especially his pecks. Just the way you casually squeeze his muscles, sends him in a frenzy. He’s always been told or flirted with about his muscular stature but it’s completely different when his Lovebug comments on it. It effectively boosts his pride that you appreciate his hard work he’s been doing.

“Ah such big boobas!”

“Just for you Lovebug!”

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when you cheer him on. Now there’s no way he let’s you attend his death+matches but you being his cheerleader in anything else makes his heart and something else+ swell. Hearing your strained voice calling out to him in the heat of the neighborhood eating contests—pumps him up like no one else. Heck! If you just cheered him on for not breaking anything in the house he can’t help but want to pounce.

“Just a little! Love Bug Pleeeeeease! You can’t cheer me on and not let me do it!”

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when people challenge him for you. He knows your a catch, its only a given that’d there be competition. And what better way to show his love than clobbering the coworker that was saying mean things really quietly. Don’t scrunch your eyebrows! They really did say something mean. He’ll act real angry if anyone vaguely references you in the ring he’ll literally beat them into a bloody pulp but deep down he’s jumping at the chance to defend your honor. It’s all for his Lovebug!

“I’ll enjoy beating your face in!”

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when he can treat you especially when its at the expense of anyone who say something he doesn’t like. There’s just something so satisfying about watching you get all dressed up for a night out after he earned a cash-gift from a workout buddy. That workout buddy being the bloody remains being delivered to make a special kind of smoothie.

“You look a million dollars, babe!”

#yandere himbo househusband #yandere himbo #yandere himbo househusband oc #yandere morgan jox #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere husband #yandere husband x reader #yandere original character #yandere original characters #yandere oc x you

[matryosika]

Haechan: Power Dynamics and Other Analysis

Wordcount: 1,058 words Genre: Smut, 18+ (mdni) Includes: Headcanons. Specific warnings under the cut. Author's note: This was a request! I normally don't take requests, but since I'm planning on writing something similar for the rest of the group, let me know if there's someone specific you'd like to read about! (I'm currently working on Johnny's). Please remember that this is just me free-associating for 1,000 words straight; therefore this is fiction and in no way I'm claiming this to be real. Please leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! Post divider used is by @/cafekitsune.

Warnings: There are some dubcon elements to this, as forced submission is mentioned. This headcanon includes a variety of slightly rougher kinks than my last analysis (read here), but I think the overall warnings for this would be for humiliation, degradation and masochism. Aftercare is described, paired with the mention of dom/sub drop (for Haechan).

He is the competitive type. And (un)fortunately, you're not exempt from this. 

Haechan's thirst for control is fueled more by his inability to lose, rather than his liking for it. 

He loves challenges, and I sense he can get bored easily of the same dynamic over, and over again. That's why I see Haechan going both ways, as a dominant and a submissive. 

In quite a few words, he is a switch to his core. With that being said, I don't think he enjoys submission just for the act of submitting —he enjoys submission because it is a challenge. 

Because, with the right partner, being in the submissive role will prompt him to fight for power again. And in said fight, anything can be possible —he strikes me as someone who enjoys forced submission a lot more than naturally submitting. 

But rather than labeling him as a switch, dominant or submissive, I have something way better and precise: Haechan can be both a brat, and a brat tamer. 

As a brat, he is insufferable (in the most delicious way). As a brat tamer, he can be really mean (again, in the best way). Haechan masters both roles because what he hates in brats, he displays it. And what he wishes from you as a brat tamer, he portrays it. 

The need to tease, humiliate, as well as some degrading elements, are naturally engraved in this man: his very own way to get under your skin? Words.

During sex, Hechan doesn't need any sort of physical punishment to ruin you completely. With minimum effort, and just a couple of dirty words, this man is capable of getting deep into your head. 

Slut might be his favorite word during rough sessions, both for you and him (but he won’t admit that out loud). He is also very passionate about pointing out how aroused you are: “I haven't even touched you and you're dripping down your legs, aren’t you embarrassed?”, “think you can come untouched? If you squeeze your thighs enough, you might. That's how much of a slut you are", among other things. 

If he is in the mood for something a little bit more physical, I feel like he would force you to speak while having his dick or fingers inside your mouth, just for the sake of making you feel humiliated by your (failed) attempt to speak properly. Might even taunt you into crawling on all fours for him, too.

Now, apart from humiliation and degradation, I can't shake the feeling that Haechan is a masochist. 

The idea of physically hurting you isn't that appealing to him, if he is being honest. But the idea of you hurting him? The mixture between pleasure and pain? Pushing his limits just to prove that his pain threshold is great? Hechan's competition is not only his partner in bed, but also himself. His favorite way for you to inflict pain is probably overstimulation, followed by impact play (specifically face slapping).

With all that being said, I think it's important to highlight that reassurance is very important for him —hearing you saying he did well it's not a want but a need.

Haechan is naturally sensitive, so I kind of feel he might fall into a sub/dom drop after each session if the aftercare is neglected (which it shouldn’t! You all know the drill, because aftercare is important after every sexual session, whether it's rough/bdsm-related or not!) However, aftercare with Haechan needs to be really cautious and tender. A lot of physical touch involved (like cuddles and pettings) paired with words of affirmations: “I liked it a lot when you [said this, when you touched me like that, etcetera]”, “you did really good”, “I love it when you [do this, act like this, etcetera]”. Knowing you enjoyed everything as much as he did is crucial for him, and will help him get into a healthy after-state. 

In exchange, he does the same for you. The way he provides aftercare is heavenly, and it balances out whatever happened during sex. 

As I said before, Haechan is sensitive, and may get emotional easily. Other than his sexual persona, I honestly think he is very nurturing and protective of you. His love is sweet and tender, and there's no one in this world he trusts more to show him what he really likes, and what really arouses him. 

His love for you is one that resembles complicity —you do it all together and work together (despite the power dynamics saying quite the opposite). Haechan is a sucker for trust and what's familiar, so he feels really comfortable experimenting with the same partner over and over again.

And the possessive aspect within him is quite different from Mark. Rather than him proving himself that you belong to him, Haechan needs to be sure that he belongs to you. That you're constantly choosing him, every day. That you want and need him, and that he has something only he can give you. 

Apart from words of affirmation, physical touch is really high on his love languages list. Hugs, kisses, hand-holding and other forms of petting are to be expected from him. During sex, these displays of affection can be just as rough because of the heat of the moment, but the meaning behind them it's no different than those during a non-sexual context —Haechan needs to feel all of you in all the ways he can. 

Not only that, but it's his own way to communicate without having to use any kind of words. From maintaining eye contact, to holding his hand tight when things start to escalate a bit, mapping and knowing your body language and expressions is a big deal for him.

On that note, his gaze speaks way more than his lips do. And it is such a pretty sight how much he can communicate with them. 

From lust and pain to compassion, I think it's baffling how pretty his eyes are.

How they say exactly what he is feeling, rather than what he is thinking. Haechan can call you all sorts of names and humiliate you in all the ways that you let him, but his gaze will betray him every time: underneath all that roughness, there's a paralyzing and intoxicating adoration for you.

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #kpop smut #donghyuck smut

[bokuroar]

𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗸𝘆𝘂𝘂!! 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 & 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 “oh.” 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻t (pt. 2)

↬ you can find part 1 here ♡ i was supposed to use another song but i wanted to stick with the theme of the first part ^^ enjoy !

↬ hq characters (osamu, iwaizumi, kenma, daichi) x gn!reader

ꕤ you open the door to welcome osamu and the heavy grocery bags he cradles in his arms. without so much as saying hello, he automatically lets himself in kicking his shoes off in your apartment. with stuffy nose you ask him, “what’re you doing here at 10 in the morning? doesn’t your shop open at 9?” osamu chuckles, his warm smile spreading across his face. "it does, but i couldn't stay away any longer, you’re a mess who needs to eat." he jests. throughout the day, osamu stays by your side, bringing you comfort and joy with every gesture. he makes you soup, entertains you with funny videos thanks to his twin, and even brings over a stack of your favorite books to read together. it’s like he knows exactly what you need without you having to say a word. oh.

ꕤ “we better walk fast, ‘zumi. looks like it’s gonna pour anytime soon.” you mumble as you look up to the looming clouds and instinctively reach your hand out to feel any droplets. iwaizumi brings out his old, trusted, albeit rusty umbrella that you swear he had since god knows when. he sheepishly smiles, “can’t have you sick now, can we?” as you continue walking, you engage in light banter and reminisce about old times. the conversation flows effortlessly, just like it always does when you're together. "you remember that time we got caught in a torrential downpour during our first year of high school?" iwaizumi asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "how could i forget? good thing we found that cafe to hide in until the rain stopped.” you reply. "yeah, and then we spent hours talking and laughing we didn't notice they needed to close the shop." iwaizumi recalls fondly and adds, "that was the day i knew we'd be friends for a long time." he smiles warmly, his gaze softening as he looks at you. uh oh.

ꕤ “ah, am i hearing this right? the kodzuken challenging me to beat him in a video game?!” you jokingly gasp at your longtime friend, kenma, who only rolled his eyes at your mockery. “stop acting weird, this won’t be the first time i beat you,” he smirks. you grin, accepting the challenge with a competitive glint in your eye. the game began and you both immersed yourselves in the virtual world. as the match progressed, you notice kenma's occasional slip-ups, as if he was letting you win. "are you sure you're not going easy on me?" you tease. he blushes slightly, trying to hide his intentions. "you wish. you just had practice," he replies, his eyes betraying a hint of affection. after a thrilling game, you emerged victorious. "looks like you owe me that boba," you retort playfully, savoring the taste of triumph. in that moment, kenma smiles, realizing that he felt more of a winner in making you smile than winning a video game. oh no.

ꕤ holidays are better spent with people. the more the merrier, at least that’s what daichi’s household believes in. and his big family isn’t enough, daichi always celebrates with his close friends—including you. amidst the ongoing debate which is the best christmas dessert, he turns to you, "i’m so glad you could make it today. my family loves having you around during celebrations." you smile warmly, "i wouldn't miss it for the world, dai. your family and our friends always make these holidays unforgettable." as the holiday cheer enveloped the room, daichi's eyes were fixed on you as you engage with his younger siblings. you had picked out thoughtful gifts for each of them, and he watches with a mix of fondness and admiration as they unwrapped your presents, their faces lighting up with joy and gratitude. he could get used to this. oh?

© bokuroar (2023) – do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, repost my work on other sites without permission.

a/n: i can’t not write this bec of the love the part 1 got T____T i wanna hug all of u !! thank u !!! 🥹🤎 ik this took such a long time but still hope you liked reading this just as much hehehe <3

thanks for stopping by ☕️ talk to me?

#Spotify #✍️.haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x y/n #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #kenma x reader #daichi x reader #kenma kozume #daichi suwamura