#THESE TWO IDIOTS- How were they like before?

[myonexox]

THE LITTLE THINGS THAT MATTER

pairing : childhood best friend!sunghoon x female!reader

genre : romance, fluff, slow burn, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, childhood friends au, idiots in love

synopsis : two childhood best friends, you and sunghoon, who secretly like each other but are too afraid to confess. as you spend time together, you start to notice the little things, the small gestures that show how much you truly care for each other. in the end, you both realize that love isn’t just about big moments but the little things that matter most.

word count : 4.7k

now playing : xo (only if you say yes) by enhypen (i was listening to this song the whole time while writing. it has that whole falling in love vibe, you know? and the lyrics kinda remind me of sunghoon. the way the song tells a story about a boy who’s willing to do anything for the person he loves, it’s literally him. so yeah, i highly recommend listening to it as you read)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

you had been in love with your childhood best friend, sunghoon, for years. you didn’t know when exactly the feeling had settled into your heart. maybe it had always been there, waiting for you to acknowledge it. but you remembered everything about how your story with him began.

it started when you were five years old. the neighborhood park was your favorite place and it was where you met him for the first time. you were trying to reach for a butterfly, standing on your tiptoes on the playground slide when you lost your balance and nearly tumbled down. just before you could fall, a small hand caught yours. it was him. a boy with curious eyes looking at you with concern.

“are you okay?” he had asked, tilting his head.

you nodded, embarrassed. “i was trying to catch the butterfly”

he looked up at the sky where the butterfly had already flown away then back at you. “i can help next time”

that was the beginning.

from that day on, you and sunghoon were inseparable. your mothers were friends which meant playdates, matching outfits and meals together. he became the boy who always waited for you outside your house and who walked beside you every time you went to the park.

every day was an adventure. you would race each other down the street, only for him to slow down at the last second and let you win. you built sandcastles at the park even though they always collapsed because neither of you knew how to make them strong. you picked dandelions together and made wishes.

and he was always there for you. when you scraped your knee, he was the one who rushed to find a bandaid. when the neighborhood kids refused to let you play in their pretend castle, he declared that he would build a bigger one just for you. and he did, using pillows and blankets in your living room. when you got sick, he would draw silly doodles on get-well cards, slipping them under your door so you wouldn’t feel lonely.

as you both grew older, your adventures changed but your bond didn’t. elementary school was all about trading lunch, sitting next to each other in class and sharing little secrets. you helped him with his homework when he got stuck and he shielded you from the teacher’s scolding when you forgot yours. during school field trips, he always saved you a seat next to him and whenever you had to partner up for assignments, you didn’t even need to ask, it was just a given that you and sunghoon were a team. even during recess, while other kids formed new friendships, you and sunghoon remained a pair, always finding your way back to each other.

middle school came and with it, the awkward years. he hit his growth spurt earlier than you, towering over you one day when just the week before, you had been the same height. his voice started to change, deepening slightly and you couldn’t ignore how other girls started to notice him. you told yourself it didn’t matter. you were his best friend and that was all there was to it.

but then came the small moments that made your heart stutter. like when he slung his arm around your shoulder so casually. like when he leaned down just to meet your eyes. like when he always seemed to notice the tiniest details about you. when you were sad, when you were tired, when you needed someone to cheer you up. he always knew. he always listened.

you should have known then. but you didn’t, not yet.

it wasn’t until high school that realization truly hit you. the first time you saw him in his uniform, looking taller and more mature, your heart did something weird in your chest. you tried to ignore it. you told yourself it was just because you weren’t used to seeing him like that.

but then there was the way he treated you, different but not in a bad way. he had always been protective of you but in high school, it became more obvious. if someone made you uncomfortable, he was there in an instant, his presence alone enough to make them back off. if you were carrying something heavy, he took it from you without a word. and when you got sick, he showed up at your house with medicine and your favorite snacks.

then there were the times when he looked at you, like really looked at you. like the time you got dressed up for a school event and when you stepped out, his breath hitched just slightly before he smiled at you. like the time you fell asleep on the bus during a school trip and he let you rest your head on his shoulder, not moving an inch the entire ride. like the time he whispered your name, just your name but it made your heart feel so full you thought it might burst.

it was a million little things.

you realized it when he defended you from a senior who spoke to you rudely. you realized it when he remembered things about you that even you had forgotten. and you realized it when he ran to your house in the rain because he knew you were upset and needed someone and that someone was always him.

and one day, you couldn’t deny it anymore. you were in love with sunghoon. you were in love with your childhood best friend.

but you never told him. because what if he didn’t feel the same? what if you ruined everything? he was your best friend, the person who had been with you through every moment of your life. if you confessed and he didn’t like you back, would things change? would he start avoiding you? would you lose him completely?

so you decided to stay quiet. you told yourself it was better this way. you would rather love him in silence than risk losing him forever.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

saturday arrived and as planned, you made your way to sunghoon’s house for your study session. it was something you both had promised to do earlier in the week, knowing that your math test was coming up on wednesday. sunghoon had never been the biggest fan of studying but with enough convincing, you managed to get him to agree. you rang the doorbell and waited for a few moments before the door swung open, revealing him in a casual hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly messy as if he had just woken up from a nap.

“you’re here” he said with a grin, stepping aside to let you in.

“of course i am. you think i’d let you slack off before our test?” you teased, slipping off your shoes at the entrance.

he let out a dramatic sigh. “i was hoping you’d forget”

you chuckled. “you wish”

his parents weren’t home. they had gone out for the day to visit some relatives in another city. it wasn’t the first time you had been over when they weren’t around and you were comfortable enough in their home that it didn’t feel awkward in the slightest. you followed him upstairs to his room. his desk was already set up with textbooks, notebooks and a couple of pens.

for the next few hours, the two of you went over equations, formulas and problem-solving techniques. sunghoon, true to his nature, grumbled every now and then but he still managed to focus for the most part. you explained concepts to him whenever he got stuck, watching as his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. every so often, he would lean back in his chair, stretching his arms with an exaggerated groan before throwing you a look that practically screamed ‘i’m suffering.’

eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he slumped forward onto his desk, groaning loudly. “ugh, i can’t take it anymore. my brain is officially fried”

you looked up from your notes, smiling slightly. “come on, we’ve only been studying for—” you glanced at the clock. “okay, maybe we have been at it for a while. i didn't notice it”

“exactly” he muttered, lifting his head slightly to look at you. “we need a break. if we keep going, my brain is going to melt and i’m going to blame you for it”

you laughed. “alright, fine. you have a point. we can’t afford to burn out before the actual test, right?”

he immediately perked up. “great! let’s go downstairs and watch a movie or something”

you didn’t object. honestly, you could use the break too. packing away your books, you followed him out of his room and down the stairs. as you stepped into the living room, he gestured toward the couch. “you pick the movie first. i’ll go grab some snacks for us”

that was another thing about him. he never picked the movie. not even once. you had asked him before why he always made you choose and he said, “i like everything you like.” at the time, you hadn’t thought much of it but now, it made your heart flutter whenever you remembered it.

settling onto the couch, you scrolled through the movie options, your choice already obvious. horror was your favorite genre and sunghoon, despite his complaints that you always picked scary movies, never objected. he always watched them with you even when he claimed he didn’t like them. smiling to yourself, you selected a horror film and waited for him to return.

a few minutes later, he came back with his arms full of chips, popcorn, candy and a couple of soda cans. he dumped them onto the coffee table before flopping onto the couch beside you. “you picked horror, didn’t you?”

you smiled, raising an eyebrow. “how do you know?”

he let out an exaggerated sigh but grabbed a handful of popcorn anyway. “of course i know. but if i get nightmares, you’re responsible”

“you never get nightmares”

“you don’t know that”

laughing, you pressed play and the movie began. the two of you settled in, munching on snacks as eerie music filled the room. as the movie progressed, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him every now and then.

by the time the credits rolled, the sky outside had started to darken. you sighed, stretching your arms as you realized how much time had passed. “i should probably head home before it gets too late”

he nodded, still watching the screen as the last of the credits played. you reached into your pocket for your phone, intending to check the time but your hand came up empty. frowning, you patted your other pocket. still nothing.

“hey, did you see my phone?” you asked, glancing at sunghoon.

he turned to you, eyebrows furrowed. “hm?”

“my phone. did you see it?” you repeated.

“wasn’t it with you?”

you shook your head. “i thought so but it’s not in my pocket”

the two of you began searching around the couch, pushing aside pillows and shifting through the pile of snacks but your phone was nowhere to be found.

“maybe you left it upstairs when we were studying?” he suggested, already moving to stand up. “wait here, let me get it for you”

you waved him off. “it’s okay i’ll get it myself”

“okay” he said.

you made your way back upstairs to his room. sure enough, your phone was sitting right on his bed, exactly where you must have left it earlier. picking it up, you checked the time. 6 pm. definitely time to head home.

but when you were about to walk out, your eyes caught something unusual. a unique notebook lay next to sunghoon’s pillow, one you had never seen before. it was different from his school notebooks, the ones he used for studying. this one had a leather cover, slightly worn at the edges as if it had been used frequently. your curiosity spiked instantly.

you hesitated, looking toward the door to make sure sunghoon wasn’t there. taking a deep breath, you slowly climbed onto his bed and reached for the notebook, settling on the edge of the bed as you held the book in your hands.

you knew this was wrong. you knew you shouldn’t take it or open it. even though he was your best friend, you still had no right to read his diary. it was his personal stuff and you should have respected his privacy. but you were curious. it killed you and you just knew that you would never stop thinking about it once you got home if you didn’t at least take a peek.

you sighed, running your fingers over the cover before hesitantly opening the book.

“i’m sorry sunghoon” you whispered to yourself.

your mind told you to be sane, to close it and walk out but your heart screamed at you to open it and read. and since you were an F in your mbti, you tended to follow your feelings more. so you decided to choose your heart.

it would be fine. right? you were only going to read one or two pages and then stop. you promised yourself. then you opened it.

the first page was written with a title “things i love about her”

you frowned. who was ‘her’? did he like someone? at school? how come he never told you anything? your mind raced with a million thoughts. but you pushed them aside and turned to the next page.

the second page was titled “my best friend”

you froze. your eyes widened. about... you? wait. why would he even write anything about you? and you were his only best friend. or… did he has another best friend?

you flipped to the next page, eyes scanning the date written at the top. it was from your first year of high school. you and sunghoon were seniors now.

page after page, you kept flipping even though you told yourself to stop. but the more you read, the more impossible it became to stop.

1 : her kind heart

i remember the day we found that stray cat on the way home. it was raining and she didn’t even hesitate to run under the pouring sky to rescue it. we were completely drenched, our uniform sticking to our skin, our shoes soaked with mud but she didn’t care at all. she held that tiny kitten against her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

i told her she was crazy but she just laughed, hugging the kitten even closer.

“sunghoon, it was cold and scared. what was i supposed to do, leave it there?” she had said.

then she kept it for a week before finding a proper home for it. but every single day, she fed it, cared for it, loved it. that’s the kind of person she is. selfless. kind. beautiful.

she doesn't realize it but she makes the world softer and better just by being in it.

i remember the way she cried when she had to give the kitten away. she tried to hide it but i saw, y/n. i saw how much you cared. how much you love even the smallest things.

i wonder if she knows how much i love her for it.

2 : her sense of humor

she laughs at the dumbest jokes. and i mean 'the dumbest'.

one time, i dropped my pen in class and groaned because it rolled under someone’s chair. then she whispered “that pen just wanted to be free”

i gave her a look but she was already laughing. her hands covering her face as she tried (and failed) to muffle the sound. and just like that, i laughed too. because her laughter is infectious. it spreads like wildfire, igniting everyone around her.

she has a way of making things feel lighter even when everything feels heavy.

i could listen to her laugh forever.

3 : her intelligence and determination

i hate studying. she loves it.

she’s always been so determined to do well, always pushing herself to be better. when i get lazy, she drags me back in. when i say i can’t do it, she proves that i can.

“you’re not dumb, sunghoon. you just don’t try”

maybe she’s right. maybe i don’t try enough. but she does. and i admire that more than she knows.

i’ve never told her but i love watching her study. the way her brows furrow in concentration, the way she bites her lip when she’s deep in thought. it’s fascinating.

4 : her smile and laugh

i wish i could record it. just once.

her laughter. her smile. the way her eyes crinkle at the corners, the way her lips curl just before she bursts into giggles.

if i had that recording, i’d listen to it every night before i sleep. because nothing else in the world sounds as beautiful as she does.

5 : the way she talks

she talks a lot.

but i never mind. not even once.

her voice is... so calming. she makes talking easy even when i don’t know what to say. she makes silence feel comfortable. i think that’s rare.

i could listen to her talk everyday, endlessly. she never runs out of things to say and somehow, i never get tired of hearing them. she makes even the simplest stories sound like something worth listening to. i could sit next to her forever, just listening.

6 : her hair

she always complains about her hair.

“my bangs aren’t cooperating today”

“i should’ve tied it up”

but i don’t see what she sees. i see sunlight catching in her strands, the way they sway when she moves, the way she tucks them behind her ear.

i like it. i like her...

7 : her beautiful eyes

i could stare at them forever. not in a creepy way (okay, maybe a little creepy). but they hold so much. i don't know how to explain it. but whenever she looks at me, i can never look away no matter how hard i try.

her eyes... they're just so beautiful.

i don’t think words could ever describe how much i love them. i could get lost in them for hours.

no, her eyes aren’t just beautiful. they’re everything.

8 : her adventurous soul

since we were kids, she’s always been the one to drag me into trouble. climbing trees. exploring abandoned buildings. running through the rain without an umbrella just for the thrill of it.

she hasn’t changed til now. and i like that she hasn’t.

she still pushes me out of my comfort zone, still drags me along to do things i’d probably never consider on my own.

i used to complain about it. about how reckless she was, about how she never thought things through. but i think, deep down, i’ve always liked that about her. i like the way she throws herself into life so fearlessly. i like the way she makes the ordinary feel exciting.

and... i like that she’s never stopped pulling me along with her.

the next pages were filled with even more things. you swallowed hard. this wasn’t just a diary. this was a collection of every little thing he loved about you.

your heart pounded. what was this? why would he write something like this?

you shouldn’t have read it in the first place. but you did. and now, you could never unsee it. you were... confused.

you held onto the notebook, your mind reeling from what you had just read. every small detail about you, things you never even thought he noticed... he had written it all down. the way you laughed, the way you talked, even the way you tucked your hair behind your ear. he noticed everything.

but why?

before you could gather your thoughts, a voice snapped you out of your trance.

“hey, what’s taking you so long?”

you jumped, your eyes widening as you turned around to see sunghoon standing by the door. but then his gaze dropped to the notebook in your hands and his entire body stiffened. his eyes widened in panic before he strode forward in urgency.

“wait, no—”

before you could react, he reached for the book and snatched it away from your hands, gripping it tightly as if his life depended on it.

“why… why do you read this?” his voice came out weak, almost vulnerable, something you had never heard before from him.

but instead of answering, you asked the question that was burning inside you. “why did you write it?”

he sucked in a sharp breath. he was at a loss for words. he wanted to lie, to make up some excuse, to tell you that it was nothing but he knew there was no way he could do it. you had already read part of it. there was no turning back now.

so in a desperate attempt to shift the subject, he repeated “why do you read this? this is my book. you can’t just take and open something that belongs to me. it’s my privacy”

but you ignored his protests, your eyes locking onto his. “tell me! why would you write something like that about me?”

silence.

a deep sigh escaped his lips before he finally muttered “are you stupid or what?”

your brows knitted together in confusion. “what?”

internally, sunghoon was screaming. his heart was hammering inside his chest and his mind was a chaotic mess. how was he supposed to explain this? how was he supposed to tell you everything he had kept hidden for so long?

he never meant for you to find out this way. in fact, he never meant for you to find out at all. but now that you had, he had no choice but to be honest.

he felt like everything had turned upside down, like all the secrets he had tried to hide were suddenly being revealed. the way you looked at him now, confused, searching, waiting for answers made his chest tighten. he had spent so long keeping his feelings under lock and key, convincing himself that it was better this way, that it was safer if you never knew.

because the truth? he had been liking you for a long time. longer than he could even remember.

it started with the little things, the subtle glances he stole when you weren’t looking. you never noticed but his eyes always found you in a crowded room. he watched you. he had always watched you. not in a way that was meant to be creepy or anything but in the way someone admired a piece of art from afar, afraid that getting too close might ruin its beauty.

he noticed every little thing about you and god, he adored it all. most of all, he... loved you. so much.

you never realized how often he went out of his way just to be close to you. how he would adjust his pace to match yours when you walked together. how he always seemed to have your favorite snack on hand, pretending like it was just a coincidence and offered you some or gave them all to you.

how he memorized your coffee order, how he always stayed up late just to help you study and how he would make up excuses just to see you, pretending like he needed help with something when in reality, he just wanted to spend more time with you.

but you never noticed. and maybe that was for the best. because no matter how much he wanted to tell you, he was afraid. just like you, he was afraid that if he told you the truth, it would ruin everything. afraid that if you didn’t feel the same, your friendship would crumble and he would lose you completely. and losing you? that was the one thing he could never bear.

so he kept quiet. he buried his feelings deep, convincing himself that as long as he could stay by your side, that was more than enough. that he could live with the ache in his chest as long as he got to see you smile, as long as he got to hear your voice, as long as he could keep talking to you.

but now, standing here with you looking at him like that, he knew there was no more running away from the truth. it was out in the open now. and there was nothing he could do but finally, finally let his heart speak.

taking a deep breath, he finally spoke. “i’ve been liking you— no, loving you since... i don’t even know when”

your heart stopped.

he looked down at the notebook in his hands, his fingers tightening around it. “at first, i wrote this diary out of boredom. when i didn’t know what to do, i wrote it because you were my best friend. the closest person to me. who else would i write about? i was with you all the time and you were the one i always admired, the one i always looked at so i couldn’t help but write about you”

he let out a bitter chuckle. “but i didn’t realize that all i had been doing wasn’t because you were just my best friend. it was because you were more than that. it took me long enough to understand it too”

he finally looked at you. “but if you don’t like me back, i understand. really, i do. i won’t force you to feel the same way. i just... i just needed to say it because i couldn’t keep it in anymore” he paused then continued “if you don’t feel the same way, we can just forget this ever happened. i don’t want to lose you so we can just pretend i never said anything and—”

“sunghoon” you cut him off. you took a deep breath, your own emotions bubbling to the surface. “i like you too”

his eyes widened in shock. “what?”

“i like you too sunghoon. no, scratch that. i love you... too”

he stared at you, utterly speechless.

“i don’t even know when it started...” you continued “maybe it was when you walked me home every day and you didn't even complain about it. maybe it was when you always saved the last piece of my favorite snack for me even when you wanted it too. maybe it was when you stayed up all night helping me study even though you hated studying yourself. or maybe it was... when i realized that no matter what happened, you were always there for me. no matter how much i pushed you away, no matter how much i annoyed you, you never left. you were always there, sunghoon. and i think... i think that’s when i knew i loved you”

silence stretched between you. then he let out a small, breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “we’re both idiots, aren’t we? how come we never noticed it before?”

you nodded with a smile on your lips. “yeah, the biggest ones”

a soft chuckle escaped him before he finally sat down next to you. “so... does this mean you’re mine now?” he asked teasingly.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “i’ve always been yours, idiot”

his lips curled into a soft smile. and in that moment, you knew, this was it. this was where you belonged. with him.

then he suddenly pulled you closer. “if you’ve always been mine” he whispered “then that means i get to do this”

before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss on your lips making your breath hitch. you stared at him as he pulled away, stunned while he simply grinned.

“you’re ridiculous” you muttered though you couldn’t hide your smile.

“and you love me for it”

you sighed dramatically. “unfortunately”

he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug. “we really are idiots”

you nuzzled into his warmth, feeling your heart swell with joy. “yeah but at least we’re idiots together”

you couldn’t believe it. park sunghoon, your childhood best friend, the boy who had been by your side since you were little, the person you had been silently in love with for years felt the same way.

he had loved you too, all this time in the quiet ways you never noticed. he had spent years convincing himself that what he felt was one-sided, that confessing would ruin everything. but now, knowing that you loved him back, it felt like the weight he had been carrying for so long had finally lifted.

how many moments had he spent looking at you, memorizing every little detail, cherishing the time he had with you even if you never saw him the same way? and how many times had you caught yourself staring at him, wondering if he could ever look at you as more than just his best friend? it was funny, really. you both spent so much time worrying, overthinking, assuming the worst when in reality, you had always belonged to each other.

and you knew, in the end, it wasn’t the grand gestures or dramatic confessions that mattered most. it was these little things. the moments that seemed insignificant at the time but built something stronger than either of you had realized. the way love wasn’t just in the words spoken but in the actions that had been there all along.

the little things that matter...

[leilawanderingaround]

Imagine Phainon abandoning his duty as the deliverancer for your cause...

They said geniuses hailed from the grove are nothing but a bunch of people who have lost their mind. One of them includes you.

The one who has angered the gods- they called you. Only it was enough to make Phainon curious. Surely you can't be that bad.

Arrogance, ambitious, heartless towards others, obsessive with forbidden knowledge. They scorn your existence, wishing for your demise yet follow your every order. Because they know it was the only way for you to stay alive.

"They shouldn't be alive to begin with"

"It was only by Cerces's grace that they still stand."

"The black tide failed to take back its creation again I see"

He imagines you to be this cold and fearsome leading figure, similar to that of Aglaea. But to his surprise, you were very... what to say... skittish?

You ignore him despite his ongoing attempts to talk to you, choosing to stay silent whenever he asked a question. Walking past him whenever you two cross paths. Or often locking the door of your study so he couldn't go in, and is even willing to skip meals just to avoid him.

"Reckless genius" he scolded inside his head as he found your door remained locked again during dinner time.

It's not like he come baring any ill intents. While yes, it's Aglaea's order to gather information. He doesn't plan on violating any rules or put anyone in harm way.

He just wished to learn more about you.

Anaxa- one of the few that you tolerate enough to barely talk to due to similar beliefs, have many time told him to drop it.

"They is not the type to bend easily. That idiot would rather die than have a proper talk to a Chrysos Heir like you" the sage said. "Best not to bother them..."

Too bad Phainon's patience has run dry at this point.

______

"So you found it..." Phainon could feel the gun's barrel pressed against the back of his head. The hero stays frozen, hands gripping the scroll tightly. His mind reeling from the information he just learned from all the scrolls inside your study. " I told you not to bother them. And you choose to ignore my warning"

Anaxa could feel the cold sweat running down his spine. He knows that the chosen ones have been sent here by the golden seamstress to find information about you but he never expected that he would be this reckless to just break in entering in board daylight, choosing the only day in the week when you weren't there to confront him.

"Did you know about this?" Phainon's voice sends tremble down Anaxa's arm. The sage swallows roughly before nodding.

"I am their partner in crime after all..." Anaxa said. His finger pressing slightly on the trigger but not enough to fire. He would like to avoid murder the deliverancer if possible. But if he insists on tattling to his allies, Anaxa wouldn't mind going down with him today just to ensure that you stay safe.

"All for you. Only for you." The sage thought as Phainon turn around. He wouldn't have anything if it wasn't for you. It's only right if he returns everything to you, for you.

"So you are saying that all we have been doing is all futile." Phainon's mind began racing. How many times did they do this? How many people have suffered and died just to continue this cursed cycle to continue? Has all he has done have been for naught?

"That I can't say..." Anaxa let out a breath he had been holding. The sage doesn't know the full extent of your research on the prophecy after all. You're not very willing to share, even with him- your closest confidant.

In a flash, Phainon turned around and promptly knocked Anaxa out cold on the floor before wending out of the room to find you. The one who could answer all of this.

_____

You knew he would come, you were waiting. Your arms crossed in front of your chest. You let out a sigh as the hero steps into your house after breaking the door down.

He stand in front of you, staring down. His blue eyes missing its usual warm gaze. Phainon's hands come to your shoulders, squeezing hard enough to bruised.

You have to stop yourself from groaning as you stare at him. Your heart beats like crazy inside of your ribcage.

" It doesn't matter" you thought. You could just start over the next cycle. And you won't fail again. But for now, you are willing to die.

Instead of the strike that you were hoping for, Phainon pull you closer, hugging your form. His hands trembling with unknown feeling.

"What do you need?" He ask. "To stop all of this... To safe everyone"

You were bewildered. What's happening here? You try to use your hand to push the hero away yet he hold you even closer, close enough that it was hard to breath properly.

"You need the core flames right? I will take them for you. I will bring you whatever you need. After that, we can get out of this together. Out of this cursed world..."

That day Phainon- the deliverancer disappeared. And someone don the mask of the Flame Reaver appeared.

[writeriguess]

Can you write a katsuki x female reader where she walks into katsuki masturbating on her picture. Because he has a crush on her.

The Act

You had no idea what you were about to walk into.

You had knocked twice—once, twice—just like always before entering Bakugo’s dorm room, but this time, he hadn’t shouted his usual “What?!” or “The hell do you want?” back at you. Weird. Katsuki was never the type to ignore knocks. If anything, he was usually quick to bark at whoever disturbed him.

So, naturally, you assumed he wasn’t inside.

And naturally, you made a mistake.

You pushed the door open, stepping inside, only to freeze in place at the sight before you.

Katsuki was sprawled out on his bed, legs spread, sweatpants pushed down just enough to reveal his hand wrapped around his cock. His face was flushed, lips slightly parted as deep, heavy breaths left his mouth. But what made your stomach twist and your heart pound violently against your ribcage—was the picture he was holding in his free hand.

Your picture.

A Polaroid from a few days ago when Mina had forced you into a cute pose during a game night. You remembered rolling your eyes at her, laughing, completely unaware that Bakugo had kept that picture. And now…

Your breath hitched.

The second Katsuki noticed the shift in air, his red eyes snapped open. The moment his gaze locked onto yours, everything stopped.

Time slowed.

His brain short-circuited.

“…Oh, fuck.”

His entire body went stiff. His grip on himself loosened as panic overtook his expression. His face, already red from exertion, somehow darkened into a deep crimson.

You were still standing there, mouth parted, eyes flickering between his face and the picture—his damn hand still barely gripping his length.

“Shit—get the fuck out!” he roared, scrambling to cover himself, the picture slipping from his grasp onto the bed.

You should move. You should leave. You should do something.

But you couldn’t.

Because this meant—

“You…” Your voice came out shakier than you wanted. “You…like me?”

Katsuki looked like he wanted to kill himself right there. His hand shot out to snatch the picture, shoving it under his pillow as if that would erase what just happened. “Fuckin’—goddamn it—” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just get out.”

You didn’t. Instead, you took a hesitant step forward. “Katsuki…”

“Don’t.” His voice was hoarse. “Don’t say my name like that right now.”

Your stomach flipped.

You knew Bakugo. You knew him well enough to understand that this wasn’t just some horny moment he got caught in. This wasn’t about lust—at least, not just that. He wouldn’t be this mortified if it wasn’t deeper than that.

“You idiot,” you whispered, heart hammering. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

He exhaled sharply, fingers digging into his sheets, still refusing to look at you. “Because it’s fuckin’ embarrassing, alright? I didn’t want you to know—” He stopped, jaw clenching. “Didn’t wanna scare you off.”

Your lips parted slightly.

Katsuki Bakugo, the guy who never hesitated to say what was on his mind, the guy who had zero filter and always spoke his truth—was scared to confess to you?

That realization sent warmth flooding through your chest.

And then, because you were feeling bold—or maybe because you wanted to see just how far you could push him—you took another step closer.

“Would it really scare me off,” you murmured, tilting your head, “if I liked you too?”

His eyes snapped open.

Shock flickered through his face before something darker took over.

“…You’re shitting me.” His voice was low, dangerous.

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

A tense silence stretched between you two. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find any hint of a lie. But all he found was the truth.

His fingers twitched.

“…Then get over here.”

And just like that, the air turned thick.

Would you obey? Or would you tease him just a little more?

Your heart pounded.

Katsuki’s grip on your wrist was firm—almost bruising—as he yanked you forward, pulling you onto his lap before you could even think to resist. His breath was ragged, hot against your skin, and his hands wasted no time, gripping your hips tight enough to leave marks.

“You don’t get to say shit like that and not fuckin’ mean it,” he growled, voice thick with frustration and something darker—something desperate. “So if you’re playin’ with me, you better get the fuck out now.”

But you weren’t.

You weren’t playing.

You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch. “I’m not,” you whispered, looking him straight in the eye. “I meant it.”

Something in him snapped.

With a rough exhale, his hands slid up, gripping the back of your neck as he crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, pure hunger consuming him as if he’d been holding himself back for too damn long.

You gasped against his mouth, and that sound—fuck, that sound—made him lose what little restraint he had left.

His hands found the hem of your skirt, hiking it up impatiently, fingers digging into your bare thighs before pushing between them, spreading you open.

“Katsuki—”

“Shut up,” he groaned, voice strained as his fingers found the damp fabric of your panties. “Fuckin’—look at you,” he muttered, pressing his forehead to yours as his fingers traced the wet spot. “You like this, huh? Catchin’ me like that? Knowin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about you every damn night?”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t deny it. You nodded, lips parted as you struggled to breathe.

His jaw clenched, pupils blown wide as he pushed your panties aside with two fingers. The sudden rush of cool air against your slick folds made you shiver.

“Shit,” he hissed, running his fingers along your slit, feeling just how wet you were for him. His head fell back against the headboard, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping open, locking onto you with a look that made your stomach flip. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

Your thighs clenched around his hand instinctively, but his free hand gripped your hip hard, keeping you spread for him.

“Nuh-uh,” he muttered darkly, voice rough. “Lemme feel you.”

And then, without warning, he pushed two fingers inside you.

A broken moan left your lips, back arching as his thick fingers stretched you open. He groaned at the feeling, at how warm and tight you were around him, at the way your body reacted so perfectly to his touch.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, curling his fingers just right, watching your face contort in pleasure. “You’re squeezin’ me so damn good.”

You were panting, gripping his shoulders for support as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, each thrust rough and desperate, as if he needed to memorize the way you felt around him.

And when he pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing harsh circles, your whole body jerked in his grasp.

“Gonna make you cum on my fingers,” he muttered, lips brushing against your jaw, trailing down to your neck where he nipped at your skin. “Then I’m gonna fuck you so good you won’t ever think about another damn guy again.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach, and the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted, like he was ready to ruin you completely—sent you tumbling over the edge.

Your orgasm hit hard, your walls pulsing around his fingers as a choked moan ripped from your throat. Katsuki cursed under his breath, watching you fall apart for him, feeling your arousal coat his hand.

“Good girl,” he murmured, slowing his movements as he helped you ride out your high. “That’s it. Fuckin’ perfect.”

But he wasn’t done.

Not even close.

Because the second you caught your breath, he was already undoing his sweats, freeing his cock from his boxers, and positioning you over him.

“You ready for me?” he asked, voice thick with need, rubbing his tip against your still-sensitive entrance.

And with a shaky breath, you nodded.

“Yes.”

His grip on your hips tightened.

And then he slammed you down onto his cock.

Your head fell back with a sharp gasp as Katsuki stretched you open, bottoming out in one deep, unforgiving thrust. The sheer size of him sent a shudder through your body, your nails clawing at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

“Fuck,” he growled, his head dropping against your shoulder, breath hot and ragged. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you still as he throbbed inside you, struggling to keep himself from fucking up into you like a madman. “You’re so—shit, you’re tight.”

You whimpered, thighs trembling on either side of his as your walls fluttered around him, trying to adjust to the stretch.

Katsuki sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body tensed. “Don’t do that.”

“D-Do what?” you managed to stammer.

His hands slid down to your ass, gripping the flesh roughly. “Squeezin’ me like that,” he gritted out, voice thick with restraint. “Or I’ll fuckin’ lose it.”

You bit your lip, loving the way his body was trembling beneath you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His self-control was hanging by a thread, and you could snap it so easily.

So you rolled your hips.

Katsuki let out a guttural moan, head snapping up, eyes burning with something wild. His grip on you tightened—then, without warning, he lifted you up only to slam you back down onto his cock.

A cry tore from your lips, but he didn’t give you a second to adjust.

“Fuckin’ minx,” he growled, setting a brutal pace, using his grip on your hips to bounce you on his cock. The lewd, wet sounds of your bodies colliding filled the air, mixing with his ragged curses and your breathless moans.

He was relentless. Desperate. Like he had been starving for this, for you.

“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth, watching the way you took him so perfectly, watching the way your body moved against him. His cock throbbed inside you, hitting that spot that made you cry out every time. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

Your legs were trembling, your body burning from the intensity of it all. He was everywhere—his hands gripping your hips, his mouth on your neck, his cock buried deep inside you.

“Katsuki—”

“I got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer for just a second before he slammed you down even harder, knocking the breath from your lungs. “I got you.”

The coil in your stomach was winding impossibly tight, your body overwhelmed by the pleasure. Your nails raked down his back, your moans turning high and needy.

Katsuki groaned at the feeling. “Shit—gonna cum, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, barely able to speak, barely able to think past the feeling of him wrecking you completely.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your cries as he fucked you through the intensity of your orgasm.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice rough against your lips. “Wanna feel you fuckin’ fall apart on me.”

That was all it took.

Your vision blurred as pleasure crashed over you, your walls clenching around him as you came hard, your whole body shaking from the force of it.

Katsuki cursed loudly, his thrusts turning erratic.

“Fuck—fuck—” He gripped you tighter, holding you down as he buried himself deep, his cock twitching before spilling inside you with a rough groan. His body shuddered, fingers gripping your flesh almost painfully as he emptied himself inside you, breath hot against your neck.

For a moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing, the warmth of his body pressing against yours as you both tried to recover.

Then, Katsuki let out a low chuckle, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You’re fuckin’ mine now, got it?”

[kleftiko]

❦ STOP THE WORLD CAUSE I WANNA GET OFF WITH YOU

“with the exception of you i dislike everyone in the room”

cw: highly suggestive, gn!reader, slight grinding, NOT PROOFREAD (whoops)

god, they were loud. drinking, cheering, singing—it was all too much. too much for law, who just wanted to slink away from the commotion to a quiet room. but, such was life with the strawhats, and such was life on their boat.

sanji hanging on every word that robin and nami said, showering them with freshly made pastries to pair with their drinks; brook hammering away at the keys of the piano, singing song after song that just encouraged the flow of the party. franky and chopper dancing ridiculously atop the table, forcing law to hold his food close for fear it would be stepped in.

and finally you—who was so enraptured by your conversation with your captain that you couldn’t glance over and see the longing look in law’s eyes; couldn’t see that the possibility of having a moment with you was the only reason he was putting up with the noisy crew that was starting to give him a headache.

but you were just so worth it in his mind. the way your eyes lit up listening to anyone, so genuinely interested in hearing about what they loved. watching you enjoy the little things that people often overlooked—the sun on your skin, grass between your toes. he wanted all that passion directed towards him. hell, he wanted all of you for himself.

and in the moment, watching you laugh at your idiot of a captain, so carefree with your happiness, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

the food he was absently munching on now abandoned as he made his way towards you. luffy’s protests ignored as he dragged you away from everyone else, relishing the dampening noise as the door closed behind the two of you, now the only sound being the footsteps between the two of you as you made your way down the hall.

“now, what was that for?” you finally spoke after law stopped walking, realizing he had no where to take you.

he turned towards you, amusement laced your pretty features, and it only made you all the most enticing to him.

“they annoy me.” he said.

you breathed out a laugh, unsurprised by his sentiments towards your crew.

“and i don’t?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

but he didn’t even grace you with another response as his lips met yours.

kissing law always started out so soft—timid almost. it’s not like he had much kissing to do on the ocean.

but his lips grazed yours so gently it was almost ticklish, bringing that godforsaken smile to your lips that made his knees feel like jelly. your arms came around his neck to pull him closer, feeling his warm breath caress your cheeks before indulging in his kisses.

he held you so close, tattooed hands trailing your body and committing it to his memory in the inevitable event that he would no longer be able to touch it. and that thought made him grab you harder, greedier. his tongue darted out apprehensively, wanting to taste you—all of you—but not knowing if he wanted to do it out in the hallway where anyone could walk out and see them. but you made that decision for him as you bit his lip, and the next thing he knew you two were making out, pushing each other up against the wall like a couple of teenagers; laughing into his mouth and sending shivers down his spine at the melodic sound of your voice.

god, you were a drug to him, the salty smell of the sea mixing with your scent drove him crazy. he knew he’d go back to his bed tonight in his day clothes just to catch the whiff of you that you’d leave on his shirt. his fingers would become cold at the memory of grabbing onto your warm skin and feeling the curves of your body.

but right now he was consumed by you. pushing your body against his and trapping him against the side of the sunny. your kisses were no longer innocent, now they were eager and lustful, his fingers wound in the small hairs at the base of your neck to maneuver you how he pleased. his leg slotted between yours to teasingly graze against your sensitive core so he could swallow more of those delicious sounds you made.

god, he needed you. all of you. his free hand crawled beneath your shirt, carelessly lifting it as he raised goosebumps up your torso. you leaned further into him (if that was even possible), grinding your hips against him as you started to moan into his lips. law thought he had died and gone to heaven, that was the only logical reason he could think of for the situation he was in.

the fingers caressing your skin moved up further, he finally didn’t care where he was, he just need you.

you gasped his name breathlessly, a desperate moan against his lips at the pleasure he granted you. he moved to your neck, sucking harshly at your soft skin and allowing him to hear the beautiful noises you made just for him.

you grasped onto his shirt, nails slightly grazing his skin and making him shiver, his own hands greedily groping your flesh, yanking you into him.

god, there couldn’t be anything better in the world right now.

[rafeysdeer]

boyfriend (aka insecure reader x bsf jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: where the reader has a terrible boyfriend and always ends up crying about him to her best friend, jason todd, or, where jason finally gets tired of seeing his girl being mistreated and does something about it.

a/n: i know i kinda say pretty much the same thing here, but these two are really cute, okay? i was like giggling and kicking while writing it, hope you guys love it. english is not my first language, also, feel free to send requests!

At 8pm, on your birthday, the day that was supposed to be about you, for you, where you were supposed to be going out and partying, you were curled up on the couch, wearing a sweatshirt three sizes too big for you, after the worst fight you've ever had with your boyfriend.

Your hand wrapped around your phone as you dialed the number of the only person who would understand you, who always did, your best friend, Jason. Your voice sounded tearful on the phone as you almost begged him to come to your apartment, you didn't have to say much, or wait long, before he shows up at your frontdoor.

As you wiped the tears away from your face and dragged yourself to open the door, trying to force a smile on your face, as he pulled you into his arms, before you could even say anything. "You need to break up with that asshole, you know that, right?"

Your voice sounds like a whisper against his chest as he softly guides you into the apartment, with you still clinging to him. "He already did it, he broke up with me, because he's seeing someone else" Your voice barely comes out, the tears running down your pretty face again, and Jason feels his blood boil, as if that asshole wasn't enough of a jerk to you.

With a quick look around the apartment he was able to catch the signs from the fight, the shards of glass on the floor, the broken flower vase, besides the complete mess that the apartment was in, your boyfriend was never exactly a controlled person.

"He doesn't deserve you, he never did," he whispers against her hair as he sits the two of you on the couch, which by some miracle, was in perfect condition, and he hears her whimper against him. "What if the problem is me? What if I wasn't interesting enough, or pretty enough-" His eyebrows furrowed together in the purest expression of disbelief before he shuts you up. "Honey, I'm sorry, but shut up, are you even listening to yourself? You're doubting of the best person I know for some asshole who didn't know how to value the fucking treasure he had."

Your eyes, shining with tears, stare into his, without any words to express how you felt. Jason hated your boyfriend, he always did, and with a good reason, he always treated you as if you were less than him, and you accepted it, because he made you believe that you were less.

Your eyebrows furrowed in doubt slightly, your body moving away from his a little so you could finally look properly at him.

"I would never leave you crying alone on your own birthday for the God's sake, or leave you alond at a party at two am for someone else to take you home." He grabs your hands, an almost pleading look in his eyes, and there it was, you finally understand, all the hate directed at your boyfriend, is because he knew exactly how you should be treated, he knew exactly how to treat you.

Your eyes were shining with something different than tears this time, affection, as your head slowly tilted to the side, absorbing the information. "I could be a better boyfriend than him, come on, I doubt that idiot knows that you only drink tea with cream and a ton of sugar? That you bake cookies to the children at the shelter, so they can feel loved?" He shook his head, he wouldn't let the guy who left you crying on your own birthday after telling you he cheated on you go unpunished, but that was a story for later, for when you understand that everything you ever needed was right there.

"Shut up, I love you," she says with the most genuine, silly smile she had in weeks, maybe months, before wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a heated, well-deserved kiss.

"I've loved you since the day I saw you eating snow when you were six, Jay, I guess I just never thought it was mutual." He smirked, rolling his eyes, his arms keeping her wrapped around him. "I saw you having a crush on Edward Cullen when you were thirteen, do you really think I would still be here if I didn't love you?" You laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

"Shut up and kiss me."

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ who said that I hate you? - OO1

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: S/n, the rookie in Formula 1, challenges sexism in the sport, facing criticism, intense rivalries, and false accusations. Amid fierce disputes with Charles Leclerc and unexpected support, she fights to prove her talent.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Charles Leclerc x Female Reader! Red Bull Driver

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ warnings: Heavy sexism, fake news (??), Charles being a complete jerk, and angst. Let me know if I forgot anything.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be a short story, but I got carried away and had to split it into two parts. If you guys like it, I’ll post part two tomorrow! English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes, sorry 🤍

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ part two here! ✨

Formula 1 has always been a male-dominated sport, but who said that would stop rookie S/n from claiming her place? No, giving up was never on her list of options.

You’ve spent your whole life hearing that you would never make it into Formula 1, that you could never compete on equal footing with a man. But when you finally signed a contract with one of the top teams on the grid, you realized the biggest challenge wasn’t on the track—it was the people who wanted to see you fail.

Among those people was Charles Leclerc, one of the most beloved drivers among fans. Charles hated the attention you were getting, convinced that everything you did was just marketing and nothing more. He made sure to make that clear, with interviews filled with sharp remarks and intense on-track battles.

To Charles, S/n was nothing more than a lucky rookie. To S/n, Charles was just another jerk trying to bring her down—like so many before him.

“S/n, are you okay? S/n, if you’re alright, just answer!” Your engineer’s panicked voice echoed through the radio just as your car crashed into the tire barrier.

Everything happened in a blur. You had been fighting for the lead on the final lap against Charles Leclerc, and suddenly, you were struggling against your aching body to get out of your wrecked car.

“I’m fine. Just sore, but I’m fine,” you responded firmly as you stepped out of the cockpit.

Adrenaline still coursed through your veins. You kicked the car hard before shrugging it off, trying to calm yourself. The medical team rushed over, but you simply nodded and got into the rescue vehicle, removing your helmet and letting out a long sigh.

Back at the garage, you waved briefly at your trainer and went straight to your private room.

You threw your helmet into a random corner, kicked the couch, and collapsed onto it. The TV in the room replayed the crash. Anger boiled inside you. Without thinking, you got up and stormed back to the garage, determined.

“Do you have any idea what you just did, S/n?! You could have been seriously hurt… or worse!” Your PR manager, Adele, exclaimed as soon as she saw you walk in. Your trainer, Steve, and your public relations assistant, Bree, rushed to you.

You looked down at your race suit, still covered in dust. You brushed it off lightly, but nothing could erase the bitter taste of defeat burning in your throat.

“That clueless idiot is entirely to blame! He threw me into the wall on purpose! Did you see how he closed that corner?! Asshole.” Your voice dripped with indignation.

Steve and Bree immediately agreed, but Adele sighed, running a hand down her face.

“S/n, you can’t afford to lose your head over him. The media is already waiting outside, and I can guarantee they won’t go easy on you,” Bree warned, her voice calm.

You huffed, closing your eyes for a moment before facing them.

“Sorry, guys. But this time, I won’t stay quiet.”

The paddock sweltered under the scorching sun, and the sound of cameras clicking was deafening. You adjusted your team cap, trying to hide the simmering rage.

In front of you, a journalist held out a microphone with a smug smile.

“So, S/n… Do you think that crash was due to incompetence or inexperience?”

Your jaw tightened, but the journalist continued, not even bothering to mask his sarcasm.

“I mean, a lot of people were already questioning your place in Formula 1. Isn’t it obvious now that this sport just isn’t for you?”

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your anger in check. But before you could respond, a firm voice cut through the air:

“Excuse me, are you planning to ask serious questions and act like a professional, or are you just going to keep up this ridiculous circus?”

You turned to see Max Verstappen standing beside you, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

The journalist tried to laugh, taken aback, but Max didn’t back down.

“If any other driver had crashed, you’d be analyzing the data, not mocking them. But of course, it’s easier to tear down a woman than admit she has talent.”

A lump formed in your throat—not from weakness, but from gratitude.

“If you want to talk about who deserves to be in Formula 1, start by actually analyzing things properly. But I suppose real journalism is too hard for you,” Max finished, pulling you away from the journalist, who stood speechless.

When the interviews finally ended, you leaned against a wall near the exit.

“Thanks, Max. I don’t think I’ve ever been at a loss for words before.”

He smirked.

“It’s alright, S/n. Look, I know what it’s like to be criticized. Not like you, of course. It must be even harder for you… Society is still so sexist. But you’re strong. You’ll get through this.”

He draped an arm over your shoulder.

“And since I was so nice, how about you buy me an ice cream?”

You laughed, finally feeling some of the pressure and anger fade away.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

( . . . )

Just minutes after you left, the same journalist who had humiliated you was now grinning at Charles—the one responsible for your crash and disqualification. The contrast was brutal.

“Charles, what a race! You mastered the corners brilliantly and proved once again why you’re one of the best on the grid. How does it feel to be such an inspiration to aspiring drivers?”

S/n watched the broadcast while picking up her ice cream. Max had been smiling at you, but as soon as he saw your expression, his own smile faded. Your muscles had already tensed in anger. The way Charles smiled and basked in the praise made your blood boil.

“Well, I think some drivers need to understand track limits better. But… it’s all part of the learning process, right?” Charles spoke modestly, but his tone carried clear provocation.

You felt your entire body tremble. How dare he act like a hero after what he had done?

Max, standing beside you, whispered:

“S/n, don’t do anything. This is exactly what he wants.”

He gripped your arm, worried about what you might do next, and pulled you away from the shop.

You took a deep breath, but every word from that reporter felt like a knife sinking deeper into your skin.

Minutes later, Charles approached you in the corridors, hands in his pockets, wearing a smug grin.

“Are you okay, princess? That was quite the accident… Shame you couldn’t keep the car under control.”

S/n clenched her jaw, fists tightening. Every fiber of her being screamed to punch him right there.

But she held her ground, her voice a cold, sharp blade.

“Careful, Charles. Because when I win, there won’t be any excuses left to save you.”

And with that, she walked away, leaving him speechless.

When you reached your motorhome, Adele was waiting for you, pacing back and forth.

“Hey, Adele! What happened—” Before you could finish speaking, she pulled out her phone and showed you a news article.

“S/n under suspicion: FIA investigates possible data manipulation in the rookie driver’s car.”

Your eyes scanned the words, your heart pounding. A lump formed in your throat. It was a lie. A dirty, planned lie…

You felt your fingers trembling.

Lando came up behind you and read the headline over your shoulder.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” Lando said, frowning. You jumped at his sudden presence and immediately turned to face him.

“They want me out of the game,” you murmured, pure anger in your voice.

You walked into the motorhome and threw yourself onto the couch, running a hand over your face, exhausted from all the accusations.

( . . . )

Two weeks had passed since your confrontation with Charles, and finally, it was another race weekend. You smiled as soon as you stepped into the paddock—nothing could shake you here.

Everything was perfect. You were in a great mood, and everything felt in perfect harmony.

As you made your way to your team’s garage, you suddenly felt someone grab your arm before you could step inside.

You stumbled, but someone caught you. Looking up, you saw Lando, his hand on his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“Lando! What happened? Why did you drag me here?” you asked, laughing at his reaction.

The worried expression on his face made your heart skip a beat.

“S/n, did you check social media today?” Lando asked, and you shook your head.

“No, why?” You asked, looking at the phone in his hand.

Frowning, you grabbed the phone, your eyes darting over the bold headline on the sports website:

“SCANDAL IN FORMULA 1: S/N INVOLVED IN AFFAIR WITH COMMITTED TEAMMATE”

“Internal team sources reveal that rookie driver S/n isn’t just trying to make a name for herself on the track but also off of it. According to exclusive reports, S/n has allegedly been having an affair with her teammate while he was still in a relationship with his now ex-girlfriend, who is pregnant!

The secret relationship has supposedly caused numerous arguments within the team, with rumors that tensions in the garage became unbearable after a confrontation between the ex-girlfriend and S/n. Some team members, speaking anonymously, claim that the driver’s performance has been questioned because she has allegedly been receiving internal favors to keep her seat.

Moreover, speculation has arisen that her closeness with her teammate may be influencing certain strategic decisions in her favor, raising doubts about the legitimacy of her season results.

The FIA has yet to comment on the matter, but the negative backlash is growing on social media. Has S/n used Formula 1 not only to prove her skills but also to climb the ranks through scandal?”

“WHAT?!” you shouted, and Lando quickly covered your mouth.

You felt your blood boiling in your veins. Your heart was beating so fast it echoed in your ears. You reread every sentence, every disgusting lie, and the anger inside you grew into a suffocating knot in your throat.

“This is absurd,” your best friend said in a low but furious voice. You looked at him in desperation, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your body shaking with fear.

“What kind of sick joke is this, Lando?” You stared at the phone in your hand. “Who would have the audacity to make this up?! How the hell am I ‘influencing strategic decisions’ when they barely trust me to change my tires at the pit stop?” Your voice was low, but Lando looked at you worriedly, already knowing you well enough to see that you were on the verge of an outburst.

“Whoever did this wants to destroy you, no matter what. First, that ridiculous accusation about the car’s data, and now this?” Lando leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair.

“And the worst part is that people are going to believe it!” you said, deadly serious but clearly terrified.

“S/n, I know you want to explode right now, but we need to think about what to do. They want to destabilize you.” Lando spoke, and silence fell over the place. You weren’t just angry anymore—you were sad, upset. You wanted to cry.

You took a deep breath, but it felt like you couldn’t get enough air. Your eyes returned to the phone, where the article was already going viral. In the comments, a flood of toxic messages appeared:

“Knew she wasn’t actually talented.”

“Women in F1 always end up making headlines for the wrong reasons.”

“Of course, it had to be a woman. Getting ahead the easy way.”

“Shame on the sport. Who’s protecting her?”

That was the final straw for you.

Your chest ached. Not from weakness, but from a deep sadness that made your body tremble.

Lando noticed.

“This isn’t just about destabilizing me, Lando! This is a direct attack on my reputation! They’re basically saying I’m only here because I slept with someone?! This is disgusting!” Your voice cracked, and tears started streaming down your face. You had never broken down like this in front of anyone. Your legs gave out, and Lando noticed, rushing toward you and pulling you into a tight hug.

“You can’t let them win, S/n. You’re not alone, okay?” Lando murmured, running a hand through your hair.

“Why, Lando? Why do they hate me so much? I never did anything to these… assholes, I swear! I may be explosive, but what did I ever do to them?” you sobbed, your voice failing. Your best friend was always there for you, and you were grateful for that.

( . . . )

“What the hell is this!?” Max bursts out, furious, as he storms into the meeting room where you, the team leader, and the PR team are gathered.

You still felt the sadness burning inside you when the door swung open forcefully. Your teammate, Max, rushed in, his eyes blazing with indignation. Right behind him, Kelly, his girlfriend, clutched her phone tightly, as if ready to smash it.

“Oh, so you saw the ridiculous nonsense they’re spreading too? Welcome to hell.” You sigh, your tone calm. Everyone stares at you, surprised. They expected you to be angry—or worse.

Max ran a hand through his hair, visibly upset.

“I saw it, and it’s unbelievable! Who has the audacity to make up something like this? I’m still with Kelly, and now they’re trying to turn this into a scandal?” Max says, sitting down beside you. Kelly joins him, and despite her frustration, she offers you a reassuring smile.

“This is so ridiculous it’s actually offensive! As if I would end a relationship over a stupid rumor!” Kelly says, clearly frustrated with the situation. She looks at you, her expression softening when she sees the emptiness in your eyes. “I know you would never do something like this. Just because you’re a woman working in a male-dominated field doesn’t mean you have to sleep with someone to earn your place. Whoever wrote this deserves to be sued.”

An unexpected tightness grips your chest. After everything you had endured that day, hearing Kelly defend you instead of accusing you was a relief you didn’t even know you needed.

You offer a small, tired smile and meet her gaze.

“Thank you for believing in me,” you whisper, and she smiles back.

“The problem was never you, S/n. The problem is people who refuse to accept that a woman can be great at what she does without relying on anyone,” Bree, your PR assistant, speaks up, and you let out a deep sigh.

Max nods in agreement.

“Exactly. They want to destroy S/n’s reputation because they know they can’t beat her on the track,” Max finally says after a long silence. He takes a deep breath, grabs his phone, and starts typing. “I’m shutting this down right now.”

Within seconds, his Instagram post is already going viral:

@maxverstappen: “Just to be clear: the rumors about S/n and me having any kind of romantic involvement are completely false. Kelly and I are together and doing great, and this attack on S/n is just another disgusting attempt to discredit her. Enough with the fake news. Respect the sport.”

Kelly follows suit, posting a story:

@kellypiquet: “Let’s get one thing straight: S/n has NEVER disrespected me or Max in any way. This story is just another example of how women in sports are attacked for no reason. Grow up.”

( . . . )

After the fake news scandal, you expected Charles Leclerc to use it against you, but to your surprise, he remained silent. No provocative comments, no sly remarks in interviews. He just watched you from a distance, as if analyzing your every reaction.

Charles truly didn’t feel comfortable mocking this kind of situation—not after everything he had witnessed.

Then, the day after the media chaos, when you were alone in the garage reviewing race data, he appeared beside you, casually leaning against the table.

“So… what’s it like being the most dangerous woman in Formula 1?” Charles asked sarcastically, but without the malice he once had.

You narrowed your eyes, already expecting a jab. You were used to his teasing.

“Listen, Charles,” you said, stepping closer, “if you’re here to make jokes, you can turn around and leave. I’m not in the mood.”

Charles crossed his arms, but his gaze lacked the arrogance it usually carried.

“Relax, hothead. I’m not here to fight. I just… wanted to see how you were holding up,” Charles said, scratching the back of his head. You hesitated for a moment, confused.

Charles was asking how you were?

“As if you care,” you spat, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

Charles shrugged.

“I’m not going to lie—I enjoy messing with you. But I know what it’s like to have the world call you a fraud.”

Your eyes widened, surprised by his admission.

“You? The media’s golden boy? Ferrari’s prodigy?” you mocked, and he rolled his eyes.

“The media chooses who to attack. Today, it’s you. Tomorrow, it could be anyone,” Charles said before walking away.

And for the first time, you didn’t feel immediate hatred for Leclerc.

( . . . )

After the false news spread, the journalists still hadn’t let go of S/n. Now, more than ever, she was the main target. During a team event, a persistent reporter started pressing her with loaded questions.

“S/n, do you think your involvement with Max could affect your career in the long run?”

The reporter’s words instantly irritated you.

“I’ve already said there was no involvement. That’s a lie.” You responded confidently, keeping your anger in check.

But he just smirked, still trying to provoke you.

“But rumors always have some truth to them, don’t they? Maybe it’s just a matter of admitting it…”

Before you could snap, Charles appeared by your side, resting a casual yet protective hand on your shoulder. You glanced at his hand, then at him, then back at his hand. You raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Interesting… you ask very specific questions for someone who has no proof of anything.” Charles stared directly at the reporter. The journalist hesitated, and Charles continued. “Formula 1 is a competitive sport, but it seems like you’d rather turn it into a cheap reality show.”

You were surprised. It was the first time Charles had publicly defended you or had any interaction beyond provoking you.

When the journalist finally gave up and walked away, you turned to him, suspicious.

“Okay… what was that?” You asked slowly, still looking at his hand on your shoulder. Charles pulled it away, made a face, and wiped it on his clothes.

He shrugged.

“You already have enough problems. You don’t need an idiot like that making it worse.”

You stared at him, trying to figure him out.

“You hate me. Why are you helping me?”

Charles held your gaze a second longer than necessary before smirking.

“Who said I hate you?” He said and then walked away, leaving you more confused than ever.

( . . . )

After Charles’ unexpected defense, the dynamic between the two of you became dangerous territory. You started noticing how often he was around—sometimes teasing, sometimes protective, but always testing your limits.

Then, during another press conference, Charles defended you again. Lando and Max exchanged glances before looking at you, waiting for your reaction. You stared, mouth slightly open, completely lost. You turned to Lando and murmured:

“What was that?”

Lando just shrugged, looking even more confused than you.

That really sent some intrusive thoughts your way.

At the paddock gym? He was there, running on the treadmill next to you.

In team briefings? He made a point to sit close and throw in snide remarks.

At sponsor events? He joked about how you had to smile for journalists who clearly hated you.

And the worst part? He never crossed a certain line.

One night, after a mandatory team dinner, you were walking back to the hotel when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned abruptly—there he was, hands in his pockets, walking casually as if it was nothing.

“Are you following me now?” You rolled your eyes.

Charles gave you a slow smirk, completely unfazed by the accusation.

“Relax, hothead. I’m not that obsessed with you. We’re just heading to the same place.”

He said it so casually, making sure to emphasize the nickname he had given you, something he always did when you were alone.

You crossed your arms, suspicious.

“Right. And you just happen to always be where I am lately? And what’s with that nickname?”

Your arguments didn’t bother him one bit—unlike you, who desperately wanted answers.

He shrugged.

“Coincidence. Or maybe I just like seeing you get worked up.” He clicked his tongue. “And the nickname? It’s just a fact. You’re really stressed all the time, S/n.”

You narrowed your eyes. You wanted to hate him completely, but something about his calm, teasing demeanor made your blood boil in a different way.

And the nickname? He wasn’t wrong.

So you turned on your heel, walking briskly toward your room.

You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to be around him.

That was it.

Avoid him. You told yourself.

[sugarwarachan]

roll the dice - ft. sero hanta

pairing: sero hanta x roommate!reader

summary: It's Valentine's Day and Sero does his best to keep his horny thoughts to himself. He doesn't succeed.

cws: smut mdni, face sitting, sero hanta is a pussy-eating KING, dirty talk

based on this prompt list

"Wow," Sero whistles, while you teeter on one heel and hop into the other. That dress hugs every inch of you. "Someone’s lookin’ good. Hot date?"

You laugh, and fuck, he’s such an idiot, because the sound travels straight to his dick. He adjusts himself as subtly as he can and goes back to cooking dinner.

"Something like that.” You swipe on lip gloss in the hallway mirror. "He’s a coworker. I might have mentioned him?"

You’ve mentioned him 17 times. Not like Sero’s counting.

"Make sure he treats you right," is all he says instead, doing his best to ignore the cute little blush tearing across your face as you duck out the door.

Alone on Valentine’s Day, he thinks ruefully, settling his long frame on the couch. Alone on Valentine’s Day with a raging hot case of let-me-fuck-you-right-now for his roommate.

He should have turned down being your roommate the minute he saw you on Denki’s phone. If he had, he wouldn’t be this jealous of some random shithead taking you out for Valentine’s Day.

He considers texting Denki just to have someone to commiserate with, but the guy is probably doing his best to woo Jiro and doesn’t need the distraction.

He sparks up a joint and turns on 13 Going on 30 (so he’s a rom-com guy, sue him), trying not to think about how much better this night would be if you were here.

The door clicks a half hour later, followed by the rap of your heels on the ground. You trudge into the room and slump on the couch right next to him.

“He didn’t even show up,” you whisper into the side of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. He feels a few tears hit his collarbone.

Sero Hanta considers himself a pretty even-keeled type of guy, but wanting to punch this dick’s lights' outs shoots to the top of his to-do list.

“Oh honey, what a fuckin’ dickhole.” His hands tighten on your waist. “Doesn’t deserve someone like you, anyway.”

He probably shouldn’t say that, not when he’s rubbing circles on your hip through the material of your dress, the scorching heat of your body against his impossible to ignore. But he's been thinking it for months now, all of his own attempts at dating tossed to the wayside when he realized he just preferred coming home to you.

“No?” You pull away and delicately wipe away unshed tears. He doesn't know why he finds it so cute, this innate desire to preserve what's left of your mascara. “Who does deserve me, Hanta?”

You grab the joint and drag and his mind goes fuzzy. You’ve never outright called him on it like this before.

“Maybe I do angel, ya ever think of that?”

“Yeah?” There’s that megawatt smile of yours, kicking him in the teeth. “You think of me like that, too?”

It’s new territory for the both of you, admitting to the attraction that Sero realizes has been simmering for weeks.

“Yeah. I think of you all the time.” He cups your face and cocks his head. "We doin' this? You gonna let me show you how I'd treat ya on Valentine's Day?"

You roll your eyes at him affectionately. "Cheesy bastard."

He cuts off your laugh with the press of his mouth.

Sero's not normally one to wax poetic, but something about the way your body instantly sinks into his makes his heart lurch. You kiss him like you've been spending your whole life studying how to do it, and it drives him absolutely insane.

"Knew we'd be good together," he says, grinding the curve of his cock into the cleft between your thighs. "Feel how hard I already am, baby? Just from one little kiss."

You groan into his mouth and start pawing at his clothes.

"I know, I know, want you naked too. Don't fuckin' pout, I think you'll like the idea." He repositions the two of you with him lying down on the couch, you straddling his hips. "Remember when you said you've never sat on a guy's face?"

Your eyes darken with excitement. "I remember."

"What if we change that?" He strokes his thumb under the band of your dress, shimmying it over your hips. The pretty red lace covering your pussy makes his breath catch. "Because you know what's gonna happen if we don't?"

He traces the folds of your pussy through your underwear with the pads of his fingers.

"I'm gonna get inside this perfect fuckin' pussy and embarrass myself. Probably come after two pumps like an idiot because she's just so fucking sweet." He pulls your panties down and drags you up to his face. He catches the little whine of insecurity in your throat at the position.

Your pussy is swollen and begging for attention, arousal clinging to your lips like dew.

"Take a fuckin’ seat, baby, ya think I’ve never done this before?"

He molds his hands around the meat of your hips and thighs, and then Sero feasts, sucking and grinding his chin and nose and tongue up into your cunt. You wail and fall forward, holding yourself steady on the arm of the couch. He doesn't care if he has to hold you up himself; he's in heaven between your thighs, the taste and scent of you all he can fucking think about.

You cum quickly, gasping and shuddering above him as he drinks down your orgasm like fucking water.

"Felt good, didn't it?" he prods, biting your inner thigh and soothing it with a kiss. Your shaky nod makes him grin.

Sero sits backs up with you in his lap, wiping the back of his mouth with a forearm and licking at his lips like a dog. He hopes he smells like you for hours.

Black streaks of mascara run under your lashes. He swipes them away with the back of his thumb. "Sorry honey. You worked hard on this makeup, huh? And I'm just making you cry it off."

It's your turn to cut him off with a kiss.

ahhhhh i've written for him ONCE i hope i did him justice

[cloudcountry]

waxing crescent — the realization of love. an oh wow moment.

with leo kurosagi. (for @vivisgoinginsane)

You weren’t naive enough to assume that your curse to die in one year would be the last of your problems in this life, but you didn’t expect the next problem to come so soon.

Leo Kurosagi, a real pain in the ass who just so happened to be utterly obsessed with you, regardless of whether he knew it or not, ended up being that very problem.

How else could he explain away the occasions in which he popped out of nowhere just to bother you, whether you were in Jabberwock helping out with the animals or at a cafe off campus? There was no reason he should be anywhere near you as often as he was with that smug grin stretched across his annoying face.

Every single moment you had to spend with him was like pulling teeth, every time he laughed so cruelly at your misfortune you almost knocked his teeth out. He took pleasure in your anger, always making jabs about how much a brute you were, that no wonder you were so fucking ugly with that scrunched up face of yours, that you’d surely get wrinkles if you kept pouting like that!

Leo Kurosagi was infuriating.

But in his rambling insults about you, you found vulnerability. It was easier to strike back against him when he fumbled for just the slightest second, trying hard to keep his cool. It was so painfully obvious, to you at least, that you’d struck a nerve deep within his heart, and you didn’t stop there.

This is what they call leveling the playing field.

Months pass like this, the two of you going at it time and time again, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say Leo liked the chase. He likes the thrill of finally being bitten back—what a sick bastard he was!

So why were you seeking him out as well? Why were you also finding enjoyment in his company now? Why was Sho rolling his eyes at the two of you and telling you to stop flirting, to find a different place to get cozy because it’s weird to do that in public—

Nothing was different, surely. Everything was still the same as it had always been. After all, Leo was still calling you an idiot, and complaining about how incompetence you were, and—surely he still called you ugly, right? Of course. You must have just missed it.

But his behavior changes. And it changes in such a way that his smiles and sharp laughs leave you reeling, in such a different way than they ever did before.

It changes as he shoves himself between you and Sho sitting on the couch, pushing the two of you farther apart with a slightly strained smile on his face.

It changes as he grabs your hand and yanks you away from Kaito and Luca as your friend hollers at him and the other gazes on at the scene, confused.

It changes as he texts you good morning in such a passive aggressive way it almost makes you laugh.

And it changes.

And it changes.

And the way you see him changes, too.

“You know, Leo, you're not so bad when you’re not projecting your insecurities onto everyone.” you muse out loud, curled up next to him on the couch.

“Shut up. You’re one to talk about projecting.” he shoots back, holding his phone between the two of you so you can watch silly internet videos together.

And when you look up at him and stick your tongue out, he looks radiant.

[aquared46]

Happy ao3 downtime. Have a little andreil fic. As a treat.

It was only because Neil recognized the cadence of the footsteps downstairs that his pounding heart calmed. He untangled his legs from the blankets, but didn’t rise from the bed. He listened as Andrew locked the front door, the pounding in his head and the sickness swirling in his stomach indicating he only managed about an hour of sleep. Vague images clung to the backs of Neil’s eyelids, a nightmare that slipped from his waking mind. Something Andrew had saved him from before he was even in the room.

Andrew wasn’t supposed to be back in South Carolina for another two weeks, obligated to spend time training with his team between games. Neil himself should’ve been on campus, ready for practice in the morning. Instead, Coach took one look at him yesterday afternoon and sent him away with orders to get some sleep. To give his vice captain a chance to practice for the real thing once Neil graduated in a few short months.

Neil couldn’t get any sleep at the dorms, but his and Andrew’s bed in Columbia called to him. Neil made the trip and collapsed into it, his mind wandering to the countless firsts they shared there rather than the onslaught of memories March brought.

Neil had survived three Marches since the riot, since his father’s people had delivered him to the basement in Baltimore. His fourth March should’ve been no different.

Except there was one thing Neil hadn’t accounted for: Andrew wasn’t there.

Neil was in his final year, Andrew was playing on a professional team states away, and Neil had never realized exactly how much he leaned on him in times like this. How the shared cigarettes steadied his hands, how Andrew’s palm on the back of his neck halted the crawling beneath his skin.

Objectively, he knew Andrew helped, but it was also something Neil should’ve been able to do on his own. It wasn’t something he wanted to burden Andrew with, something that pulled him away from his responsibilities because Neil couldn’t manage to get through just a few fucking days without nearly falling apart.

And now Andrew was standing in the doorway of their bedroom in Columbia, the light from the hall flooding into the room and illuminating Neil in all his disgrace. The sweaty skin, the greasy hair, the circles under his eyes, the t-shirt Neil had bundled under his head.

Neil had found it wedged between the nightstand and the bedframe, undoubtedly tossed aside carelessly on a good day that involved lots of kissing and touching. It smelled a bit like old sweat, but Andrew’s scent also clung to it, and Neil was far beyond denying himself such a simple comfort.

Andrew kicked the bedroom door closed, and Neil listened to his footsteps as he approached in the dark. There was a click as Andrew tugged the chain of the small lamp on the nightstand. Andrew always hated how bright the overhead light was.

Andrew gestured to Neil’s entirety. “This is not fine.” He snagged the shirt from under Neil’s head, wrinkling his nose before tossing it aside.

Andrew had called him just two days earlier. They’d talked as they always did, exchanging stories and sometimes just sitting in silence, knowing the other was there and listening. Except this time Andrew had explicitly asked how Neil was holding up, and Neil had said he was fine.

“I meant what I said.” Neil mourned the loss of the shirt, but tucked his face closer to the pillow, where some of the smell had transferred.

Andrew’s jaw tensed. “I thought you weren’t going to lie to me anymore.”

“I’m not.”

“Then you’re lying to yourself.” Something settled in Andrew’s gaze as he examined Neil, the tension in his shoulders easing. “And you’re an idiot if you think I’d make you bear this on your own.”

Andrew emptied his pockets on the nightstand, and Neil felt something loosen in him as well. As Andrew peeled off his jeans, Neil scooched over to make enough room on the bed.

“There were no games scheduled, so I got cleared for this time off weeks ago,” Andrew said as he slipped under the covers.

The relief Neil felt from his proximity didn’t lessen the weight of his glare. “And you’re telling me this now?”

“You should’ve known I’d be here for your yearly mental breakdown. At least you keep a consistent schedule. I was curious whether you’d be honest with me, but now I have to ask: Was it a lack of self-awareness or sheer bullheaded stubbornness that kept you from telling the truth?” Andrew was close enough Neil could feel the warmth radiating off him. “I didn’t believe you then, and your current appearance only validates that assessment. If I asked again what would your answer be now?”

Neil ignored his first impulse, which was to say he was fine. Not only was it the answer Andrew didn’t want, but it certainly wasn’t true. Frustratingly, everything Andrew said was right. The way Andrew could peel back his layers and see what was underneath used to be unsettling, but nowadays Neil found it reassuring. Even if it pissed him off. Even if Andrew told him things he didn’t want to hear.

“That I can’t sleep,” Neil said through gritted teeth. “That he’s the only thing I see when I close my eyes, and that I wish you were here.”

“That’s better,” Andrew said. “Certainly more believable.”

Andrew reached for Neil, settling his arm over his waist and tugging him closer. Neil sagged into the contact, shuddering with relief as he tucked his head under Andrew’s.

Neil breathed him in. “I should be able to bear this on my own.”

“You don’t have to. I’d rather be here when you don’t need me than be away when you do.” Andrew tightened his arm, tangling Neil’s legs with his.

Neil had been holding himself together by threads for the past few days. In Andrew’s arms, he was safe enough to let himself fall apart. His chest was tight, and he gradually lost the steady breaths he forcibly maintained.

Andrew held him through it, his fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on Neil’s spine. It was something Neil could focus on, something he could latch onto to draw himself back into his own body. Exhaustion crashed into him as soon as he did, but not before he made Andrew a promise.

“I’ll do better next time.”

“I know.”

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Warm

Logan x X-Men!Reader

Summary: You and Logan get back from a tough mission and things take a turn.

Warnings: swearing, description of blood and stabbing, no smut hot making out, sarcasm, teasing jokes, no use of Y/n

Word Count: 1.7k

You and Logan practically dragged yourselves through the door. You had just gotten back from an overly complicated mission. It was meant to be an in and out situation but not much goes as it's meant to when you're X-Men. You both dropped your bags at the door and looked up the stairs. After the day you'd have neither of you could even contemplate climbing that many stairs so you headed for the lounge room. Logan flopped on the couch and dragged you down with him. You were pretty close friends but this was different. You didn't know what exactly was happening.

"Logan?"

"Yeah?" He said, very gruffly.

"What um, Whatcha doing?"

"Sleepin', you?"

"Same"

You decided to just settle into the situation as you were too tired to protest. You stayed like that for a few hours, just lying together, close. You felt his firm, warm body under yours and that lulled you into a soft, comfortable slumber. You both fell asleep pretty quickly but you were woken up by a strange sensation in your abdomen. You weren't sure what it was for a moment, it felt cold and smooth until it was suddenly warmer, much warmer. You only realised what it was when Logan's scream jolted you back to reality. You realised that hit claws were deep inside you, the cold feeling of the adamantium and the warm feeling of blood, lots of your blood, pooling between the two of you.

"Lo-Logan?" You whispered shakily.

He looked down to see his first covered in blood and his claws, protruding from your back. His whole world shattered for just a moment. He was sure his heart was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could feel the hot trickle of your blood going from his hand, down onto his chest, soaking his shirt. He looked into your eyes and saw tears pricking at the sides, your beautiful eyes were like this because of him. He saw the blood gargling up your throat and he saw it start to dribble out of your mouth. His own eyes were glassy and all he could see were flashes of red, blurring across his vision. He stammered, trying to say something, at this point anything, but he couldn't he just sat there in shock with his claws all the way through you. He watched as your eyes began to glaze over and your head lowered. The grip you had on his other hand was limp. You were dead. You were dead and he killed you.

He had killed so many people before but this was different, this was you. He started to cry, something he hadn't done in decades. Your body was hanging, limp, on his claws and he cried. He cried over you and that made your lips turn up in a small smile. You raised your head and looked at him. It wasn't enjoyable seeing him like this, it was awful, but you took some comfort in the fact that when you died he was sad, when you died he cared. You raised a hand to cup his cheek and he almost jumped off the couch. He was shocked that you were alive, you weren't, you just died, in his arms. But somehow you were alive and he was overjoyed.

"H-w-hu-How?!"

"I'm immortal you idiot"

"WHAT?!"

"Oh honey, I thought you knew"

"I FUCKING DID NOT!"

You smiled more and let out a small laugh.

"Oh, so this is fucking funny to you?!"

You laughed harder "Y-Yes!"

He began to laugh a little too, maybe because he was a bit hysterical but who's to say.

"You mind, you know, snickt?"

"Did you just say snickt?"

"Yeah, the claws?"

"Oh, I got it. But snickt?"

"Can we maybe have this conversation when they're not through me?"

"Oh, yeah, sure"

He retracted his claws with a 'snickt' sound. You fell onto him and he wrapped his arms around you.

"Thanks"

"Thanks? I just stabbed you"

"Yeah, I know. I was there"

"Well why thanks?"

"You cried"

"I did not"

"Yes you did"

"Nope"

"I was here Logan. You thought I was dead and you cried, you cried because you love me" You teased in a sing-song way.

"I don't love you"

"Oh! Harsh!"

"You know what I mean"

"Yeah, yeah, denial"

"What?"

"Nothing, so, snickt"

"They don't go snickt"

"They do!"

"They're my claws, I think I know what sound they make"

"Then what sound do they make?"

"Sort of a sni-snu-sh, I don't have to explain my claws to you"

"It's snickt, isn't it?"

"Shut up"

"Yeah, nah. I'd rather not"

"Well when do you ever?"

"Apparently when you stab me?"

He looks at you with a very strange pointed glare.

"What, too soon?"

"Yeah, kinda"

You smile again and put your hands on his chest in an attempt to get up but his grip on you waist tightens.

"Where you going?"

"I thought I'd get another shirt, I think it'll take a little more than club soda to get this out"

He lets you go with a small grumble and you sit up, just staying seated on the couch for a moment.

"What, don't wanna go now?"

"No, just, need a minute" you winced "my organs kind of have to, rearrange themselves, stitch themselves back together, y'know?"

He just looked at you for a moment with a hurt look in his eyes.

"I think you went straight through my spleen, it would explain the bleeding" You said as you placed a hand on your side.

Now that the jokes and sarcasm had stopped he remembered that he really did just stab you and he hated himself. Your gaze turned from your former wound and now just scratch, to Logan. You saw how much it tortured him and you placed an arm around him.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, I've had worse"

"s not that" He barely mumbled.

"Is it because we're close?"

He grumbled softly in the place of a yes.

"Then really don't worry about it"

He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow, questioning you.

"I've known Charles for a long time, like a walking kind of long time and we've had, incidents"

"Incidents?"

"He tried to melt my mind or some shit"

"He what?"

"I don't remember what he called it but it hurt a hell of a lot more than a little stabbing"

"Well I wouldn't say it was little"

"Ugh, men and size"

Logan laughed lightly.

"And it's not just him. Beast mauled me, Erik sent metal bars all through my body-"

"Ooh, he did that to me too"

"Nice, now we can start a club"

"That'd be really fun"

"Hmm, sarcasm is getting kinda obvious now"

"It's late, bite me"

"Ooh! I've been bitten a lot"

"Yeah?"

"Yep, sharks, tigers, lions, wolves, you know I got bitten by a badger once?"

"A badger? That's kinda pathetic?"

"Oh excuse me badger man"

"What?"

"Wait, do you even know what a wolverine is?"

"Scary, lots of teeth, sharp claws"

"Yeah, but it's also basically just a cross between a badger and a ferret"

"Fuck off"

"I'm serious!" You said, although the laughter didn't help your point.

"You're lying"

"Nope! It's really tiny too"

"No it's not"

"Yes it is! Now I have to start calling you Tiny Ferret-Badger"

"If you do I'll stab you, again"

"Aww! Is the tiny ferret-badger trying to be scary?"

"Stop it"

"You're so cute!"

"Stop it, now"

"Who's my little ferret-badger? You are! Yes you are!"

Logan grabbed your arms and pushed you onto your back, positioning himself above you.

"Wanna apologise?"

"I'd rather see where this goes"

You both moved your faces towards each other, agonisingly slow. Your breath quickened as you felt his fanning across your face. Your eyes locked and suddenly you were the only two people in the world. Your lips lightly brushed together, the small tough igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach. A fire that raged harder the more you felt his warm touch. His hand moved up and cupped your cheek while cradling the back of your head. One of your hands flew to his shoulder, squeezing it tightly as the kiss intensified. Your lips moved together in such synchronicity that you thought you must have been made for each other. It soon became a clash of teeth and tongues as your hand moved to his hair. Grabbing at the little ear shapes and pulling them just the right way, the way that had him letting out a low growl that travelled right through you. You let out a soft moan as his hand slid up your torso and under your shirt. He ripped the already torn material off your body and threw it to the side. You started to unbutton his shirt and pull it down his shoulders. You writhed against each other, lips clashing as you gasped for air. You moaned his name and he moaned yours. You were completely caught in each other's warm embrace.

"I don't mean to interrupt but this is public area in a school"

Both of your heads shot up and turned, you hadn't even heard the professor enter the room but there he was.

"Sorry, Charles"

"I understand, just please keep this restricted to your rooms, I don't want the children to be further traumatised"

"Okay, traumatised is a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

"If I remember correctly, no"

"Fair enough"

You grabbed Logan's hand and led him upstairs.

"Goodnight"

"Night!"

"Goodnight, professor"

You disappeared down the hallway and to your room.

"What was that about him remembering correctly?"

"I told you, I knew Charles a long time ago"

"Wh-You and-and him?"

"Don't act so surprised, you saw them"

"Them?"

"He and Erik were quite handsome in their day"

"Erik?!"

"Don't be jealous, we'll have our fun"

"Charles and Erik?!"

"You heard me"

"Next thing you'll tell me you fucked Mystique"

"Well....."

"Really?"

"Hey, she can look like anyone. Although, the blue is pretty hot too, works for Kurt"

"Oh my God!"

"Oh please, don't act like you don't get passed around the mansion like a blunt"

"I-Uh, shut up"

"Gladly"

You push him back onto your bed and trail kisses down his chest, leading to a very long night.

Tags:

@thegirlsmorgue @1dluver13xx @beeeoop @waffle-wolf-666 @clownp33 @california-boys-and-sun @starsaroundmyscarsblog @kds1999 @everyonesfriend @lord-starscream @pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse @karaishotgirl @aliljaybird @burningcatcollectorsblog-blog @summer200baby @hanahaki-garden @dr3adful-lust

[kkai-zen]

Hi! (please ignore this if you if you don’t like it) but if you feel comfortable, could you do childhood friend!ness x fem!reader. The idea is that they’re best friends but when ness joins bastard münchen he meets Kaiser (and because my entire personality is hating on him after chapter 289). He makes him isolate himself from his friends. As you can tell I want something really Angsty but with at least a happy ending. Other than what I said, you can do whatever you want with it and have a nice day. :)

hello!! thank you so much for the request, this one took me a while (ㅠ﹏ㅠ) hopefully ness isn't too ooc since i don't know him too well (guilty of being anime only lol), but i had a lot of fun planning the angst for this one and i hope you enjoy! 𓂃۶ৎ

as it was.

wc: 2.1k + childhood friend!reader x alexis ness + angst + implied happy ending + slight kaiser bashing + sfw

“Get out, you idiot!” 

Slam!

Even as a child, you’d put together the happenings of the house next door. On most nights, you could peer through the kitchen window, standing on your tippy-toes, and watch the front door of the house slam shut. If you squinted, you could see the curled figure of a boy your age hovering by its porch.

He seems so lonely like this, you tilt your head. You wonder what he’s thinking about, what his parents are like, why he lays down on the grassy lawn and draws invisible pictures in the air. 

Breath fogging the glass, you tap at the window loud enough for him to hear, and quietly trace a heart into the condensation. You can’t tell if he sees it.

“Time for bed, honey!” Your mother calls. Shooting a final, curious glance at the boy’s silhouette through your heart, you hop down the stairs to your bedroom. 

It’s only a couple days later when you see him wandering around outside again. He still looks sad, doesn’t he? You pinch your eyebrows together.

“Mama! Can I go outside ’n play?” 

“Sure, just don’t go too far!” 

And before you know it, with some child-like excitement nipping at your heels, you run up to the boy. 

“Hi! Would you like to play soccer with me?” 

His name is Alexis Ness, you learn.

He’s got a wild imagination, even for a child, yapping to you for hours about magic and illusions and now, soccer. You two would spend entire days kicking around a ratty soccer ball in the front lawn of your house, even on the scant few days Ness didn’t get kicked out of his.

Sun, wind, rain, snow—a day didn’t go by without you and Ness laughing and bickering, chasing each other around in the grass stamped flat from months of play. 

It wasn’t long before a year passed. 

“Hey, Ness?” You squint up at the hot afternoon sun, hand shielding your eyes as you lay back on the cool grass. 

“Huh?” 

“Magic is real, isn’t it?” 

“Course it is, dummy.” 

You frown. “How d’ya know?” 

He pauses, toying with the soccer ball in his lap. “Cuz of that feeling I get when I play soccer with you.”

You blink up at him with large eyes. “Feeling?” 

“Yeah,” he states, almost as if it were some obvious, undeniable truth. “Y’know, my chest gets all funny and my heart makes these weird sounds and my cheeks get sore from smiling so much.” Ness squishes his face in his hands, and you giggle. “That’s what magic is to me.” 

“Ness.”

“What?” 

“I think I believe in magic, too.” 

And he smiles at you—a real, wide grin that covers his whole face, and for a moment he shines brighter than the sun rays. 

“Told ya so!” 

The years slipped by quicker than you would’ve liked them to.

Subconsciously, you knew that you and Ness wouldn’t be together like this forever. It was only a matter of when it would happen, the dreaded day that he or you might vanish into adulthood, leaving behind the fond memories of flattened grass and soccer and magic. 

You still remember when he told you, with that childlike sparkle in his eyes, that he would be leaving to join Bastard München’s U-20 team. 

It was a snowy December day when he left, suitcase beside him, and you tried not to let him see the hot tears balancing on your lower lashes. You two were grown, you reminded yourself. You aren’t children anymore. This was always bound to happen. 

So why are you clinging to him, your tears spilling onto his new Bastard München jacket, holding back sobs? 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Ness whispers into your hair, hand on the back of your head and a sad smile on his lips. 

You say nothing, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I won’t be gone forever, you know,” He reprimands gently, pulling your head off his chest. “Besides, won’t it be cool to see me on TV?” His smile is soft, and he wipes the tears from your cheeks with a warm finger. “Y-yeah,” you mumble, unable to meet his eyes. 

Both of you are silent for a moment longer, before Ness tilts your head up to look at him. “Thank you for showing me what magic is.” 

There’s a strange tension, a fire in his eyes, and your breath catches in your throat when he leans forward to press a delicate kiss to your lips. 

And before you know it, he’s gone. 

At first, the loneliness was bearable. You and Ness texted every day, every night, any moment he had a second to spare. It was enough to keep your sadness at bay, but it didn’t last long.

The change was gradual: the slow responses, the messages left on read, and then on delivered. At some point, days passed before a single text back. And one day, there were no more texts back. 

You justified it to yourself over and over. He’s a professional athlete now. This is his career. Of course he’s busy. 

A year ticks by without a single message. 

And when you run into him in the middle of town one day, you feel part of your heart crack open. 

“Ness? Is that you?” 

He’s noticeably taller, face sharper, and his eyes look sunken with that childlike sparkle missing. He was different, as if something had swallowed up his vitality, leaving behind only a porcelain shell that looked down at you with empty eyes. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

Ness barely noticed you. 

“Y-you’re back? In town?” You stand there, heart sinking lower, and lower again when he looks at you, wearing a slender smile that doesn’t match his cold eyes. 

“Yeah, I am, unfortunately.” 

“You could’ve- I mean- just, texted me, at least?” 

Your voice is trembling, and you’re not sure why. This is Ness, isn’t it? The boy you grew up with? Your best friend, and possibly even-

“What, am I your boyfriend or something?” 

His voice is deceivingly gentle for his sharp words, and they hit you like a slap in the face. Your heart breaks a little more.

“It would’ve been nice to at least know. Y’know, as friends?” Your voice still trembles, but this time it’s more out of anger than fear or sadness. 

“Friends?” 

Ness looks at you, quiet smile still on his face, betraying no emotion. “I don’t need friends. I have my team- no, I have him.” 

There’s no doubt in your mind that the him Ness means is Kaiser.

That blue-haired, rose-obsessed freak of a striker on Bastard München. You’ve seen all of Ness’s games multiple times, and you had to admit their chemistry was admirable. But even off the field, they’d been spotted together: after games, after practice, everywhere, with Ness trailing behind Kaiser like a puppy.  

“So- so he means more to you than someone who’s been friends with you for your whole life?” 

You can’t help the hurt and frustration that slips into your voice. But as soon as the words leave your lips, you regret it. 

Ness’s eyes narrow, and chills run up your spine. 

“Watch yourself. A nobody like you shouldn’t be insulting him.” 

And what’s left of your composure splinters apart. 

“Seriously, Ness? After all this time, you- he- ” you scramble for words, desperation and anger and fear gripping your throat. “We’ve been friends for years. Since we were children. Do you seriously not see me as a friend now?” Your hands close into fists. “For fuck’s sake, we grew up together!” 

He stares down at you with that soft cold smile.

“Kaiser was right. You’re a distraction.” 

You didn’t count the number of years that passed since then. 

Life goes on, doesn’t it? But you never realized a life without Ness would be so miserable. Quietly turning off your TV when his games aired, scrolling past news about Bastard München, about anything soccer related—it was too much for you to bear. 

It’s cold today, you quietly think, wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck as soft white petals of snow flutter over you. It doesn’t usually snow this early in the year.

With slow, deliberate steps, you dread the sight of your childhood home in the distance. It only reminds you of him, after all. Why’d you tell your parents you’d visit them? 

But you see a faint silhouette in the distance, a hunched shadow hovering by the porch next door, and a wave of nostalgia drowns you: the foggy window, the heart, and the boy. It feels like a mirage, a trick of the light, but as you approach the house, it’s exactly who you wished yet dreaded to see the most standing there, tattered soccer ball at his feet. 

“Ness?” 

Your voice is faint, as if you’re talking to yourself and not the man standing there. 

He doesn’t look real. Glowing in the cold light of the moon, snow frosts his hair, bags hanging under his eyes. He’s a ghost, an apparition, a figment of your desperate imagination. That’s what you think until he pulls you into a deep hug, and you feel the warmth of his skin on yours. 

You stand there, frozen still, his arms wrapped around you for too long a time before he pulls away. 

“I’m sorry.” 

His voice has the same light, gentle quality it always had, but something about it is different this time.

In all those years, you’d never seen Ness like this. He was a ray of sun, beaming and glowing with warmth, and then he was ice, cold and sharp and crushing your heart into pieces with its vice. 

But he was never this; haunted, trembling, almost as if he was about to splinter into pieces and out of existence. 

“How many years has it been, Ness?” You whisper. He doesn’t answer.

“How many? Since you left me for Kaiser?” There’s no bitterness in your voice, only a silent resignation that’s met with snowflakes and a whistle of wind. 

“I texted you. Every day for that whole year you were gone.” Your voice grows louder. “I watched every single one of your games on TV. I waited for you, every single day, hoping you would respond. And what did you do?” 

What feels like a lifetime’s worth of anger suddenly swells inside you, threatening to overflow, and you jab a finger into his chest. “Nothing! You did fucking nothing, Ness. I- ” you choke.

“You left me, after making those empty promises. Not even a text back? Are you fucking serio-”

“‘I hope you’re doing well, Ness. I loved your assist in that last game, it was amazing.’” 

You freeze.

“‘Take care of yourself, make sure to stay hydrated.’ ‘Look at this article I found! You and Kaiser really make a good pair LOL.’ ” 

Ness takes a breath, and keeps going. 

“‘Eat and sleep well, Ness!’ ‘Just got your jersey in the mail today!’ ‘Your form looks great, excited for your next game.’”

The words spill from his lips as if he’d been waiting his whole life to say them. And it’s several long, word-filled minutes later before he utters,

“‘Miss you lots, Ness. Come home soon.’ ”

You're speechless. “Are those…”

“Texts you’ve sent me. Every single one.” Ness says, his quiet voice hoarse. You say nothing, staring at him with shock. “I read them. All of them, a million times over and then again.” He reaches out to touch your hand. 

“It was hard to respond because of him. Kaiser. Made me feel like you were a distraction, when-” Ness swallows. “When in reality, you were the reason I started playing soccer in the first place.” 

His grip on your hand tightens the slightest bit. “I never forgot you. Not a single time. I only pretended not to because of pride and selfishness and a desire to please the wrong person.” 

You look at him and for a moment, all you see is that lonely boy from a lifetime ago. 

“I hurt you. But I- I promise you-” He clutches your hands to his chest, eyes filling with desperation. “I understand what I did, and it was wrong, and I fucked up, and I just- I regret ignoring you and treating you like that and- just, please, at least let me make it up to you.” 

There are tears sliding down his face now, and your heart lodges in your throat. 

“Will you let me back into your life? Even for just a moment?” 

And you say nothing, quietly stepping back, pulling your hands out of his. You catch the way his breath stops, the way his body freezes, the way dread settles over his face when you pull away. 

But instead of leaving, you bend over to pick up the soccer ball at his feet. 

“Hey Ness?”

“…y-yes? What is it?” 

You hold the worn ball out to him. 

“Will you prove to me that magic exists again?” 

[newkatzkafe2023]

Never mind JUST breaking the bed, what if they also broke the FLOOR BOARDS?

UH OH SPAGHETTI OHS!!!!!!!🫢🫢🫢

(Lmk Wukong) You would be glaring at him from where you are. Your husband went to hard and broken not only the bed but the floorboards as well. Wukong, of course, looked sheepish from what happened the other night, but you just look soo...........yummy the other night it's not often he would lose control like that. At least in bed with you, all you know is that be better fix it before someone you know see the damage. Then start on both the gossip and explanations you're gonna have to lie about.

(MKR Wukong) OK, so we was extra pissed off about....well, let me explain him, and you were fighting off bandits. However, the guy you were fighting kelp cat calling and making derogatory remarks at you. Of course, even though you broke the guys nose and legs, Wukong still laded waste to the idiot and took his scolding from the monk like a demon man. However, Wukong still had anger, jealousy, and adrenaline and rocked your world in a random in you both spend the night at. You definitely don't tell anyone about the floorboards you both broke as you had to be carried because Wukong killed your legs.

(HIB Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh, you just had to wear that pretty short skirt. Now, not only was the destroyed, but the floor boards busted. The only reason you weren't upset about this hold incident doesn't happen very often. Also, Wukong is mortified. He doesn't remember the last time he ever lost control in bed like that. It was just that you were so sexy and with the way your thighs showed themselves peaking, he couldn't help it. You lay from your spot on your bed as you watched your husband fix the floor in your shared home, with a shared blush on your faces.

(NR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh boi, he would have to be braindead from the kind of mating you just did. You may have even fractured his pelvis a bit with how wilded the two of you went. He wouldn't notice the holes on the floor until he was done smoking to packs of cigars. When he got off the bed, that was when he noticed that he stepped into a deep hole, and he instantly paled at the damage. Wukong Quickly woke you up and told you to pack your bags and that you both were going back home now........thank God you rented a hotel for anniversary night as you checked out and basically run out of the hotel in highspeed.

(Netflix Wukong) He was definitely bamboozled by the other night. You both didn't hold back at all. You were sleeping peacefully on his chest while he lay wide awake with a look of shock. He would sideeye you because that's all he can do at the moment. You had Paralyze his entire lower half. He even can't feel his man junk under the sheets. When he looked down at the bed, he saw Medium sized holes from how hard you both wrestled and mated in bed. Wukong didn't know whether to be impressed or glad he somehow survived.

(BMW Wukong) Hey, this is not your fault. You already told him that you would ride him until the wheels fall off. Unfortunately it cost you the floorboards too, when you looked at the damage it was a splinter city down there. Worse of all, Wukong was smug and cocky he got from both the floor damage and the compete numbness of your legs. Wukong would brag and flirt about it for hours, and you couldn't stand it anymore. You lured Wukong in another bedroom but broke him in instead as Wukong screams from, please. Don't worry too much, though he's clearly very into it.

(Destined one) He covered his face in compete and utter shame, especially when you layer bedridden from the previous nights activities. The Destined one can not explain what happened and how it led up to now. One moment, he was sitting in a quiet place. The next morning, he was in bed with you, and now he's naked, confused, and for some reason, he had a massive hangover. The cherry on top was the giant holes in the ground under the bed at 7am in the morning. The Destined one can never have a comeback from this ordeal and now has to ask super uncomfortable questions about himself.

(Lotmk Wukong) THIS WAS TOTALLY YOUR FAULT............but you couldn't help yourself. Wukong was just to cute and cuddly and needy of your Affection and approval, something he doesn't get often. You bit your lip just thinking about it and when you and him got a room together, you just couldn't handle it. You made Wukong head spin and make beautiful noises he never thought he could make, it was like a lucid fever dream and he wished it didn't have to end. It did however end....in fact it ended with one side of the room floors being compete dust and splinters. You were definitely nervous meanwhile Wukong wished he could die of embarrassment with how everything ended.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[vanillebunny]

Heyyy I saw you’re taking request so here’s a fun one! Can I request a hurt/comfort Thanos x reader post games fic? A soft reunión if you will! Obviously an AU where either the X votes win OR where Thanos actually survives his supposed death and gets out. I’m thinking he and the reader got super close during the games but completed lost track of each other afterwards. And one day they just do happen to reunite ☺️

a/n: hi anon!! thank u so much for requesting!! i keep rewatching squid game js for thanos i have a problem

warnings: light drug use, mentions of addiction, i think thats it but please tell me if i missed something!

you don't know how you got into this mess, how you managed to get into a deal so bad that it put you in deep debt. which brought you here, with all these people. in green tracksuits, all of them reduced to a number rather than a name

'it's okay, i'll play a few games, get my money and finally get back to my life' you think to yourself, fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket as you look around nervously. you don't know what this was, some form of pyramid scheme--gambling den? whatever it was, it didn't exactly bring ease to your mind

you're startled by the sudden sound of someone behind you, tapping your shoulder. you look back and see a man with purple hair, smiling like an idiot. you furrow your eyebrows, who the hell was this guy?

"seniorita excuse me" he says and smirks, "couldn't help but see you over here, all nervous--please, i know i'm too hot to handle but im sure.." he trails off and looks over you once, twice, before looking back at your face, "you can handle it" he says and you raise your eyebrows, repulsed by his actions. you back away

"who the hell are you?" you say, grossed out by this clearly overly confident guy

"im a legend!" he says and makes a little pose with his hands, "thanos." he says and wiggles his fingers, showing off the different colors of each nails

"thanos?" you scoff, "as in...that guy from the movies?" you say and he nods, wiggling his fingers even more to really emphasize the so called infinity stone colored nails

"don't worry seniorita! i have all the power in the world to protect you from these demons!" he says and surrounds you, looking at the people around you exaggeratedly, all of whom don't even spare him a second glance, clearly busy with their own problems

"uh...yeah thanks. im okay" you say and begin to walk away, to the crowd where everyone was listening to the instructions and such.

soon, you were all in the large sandy field, spreading out to begin the game. red light, green light they said. all of this just seemed...too easy. there has to be some catch, there's no way you play some child's game and walk out with billions of won

when you go around and take your place, you can hear running, and you look behind you to see none other than that same purple haired freak that was desperately trying to reach you. you roll your eyes and turn away but he was quick to get beside you

"phew! thought i wasn't gonna get to you in time" he says, as if it you two planned to be playing together or something, "don't worry, we'll play these games together--then you, me, billions of won in our hands. you think our kids would be proud of their appa for protecting their eomma and making sure she wins too?" he says and you just raise a brow, huh?

"who said we're playing together?" you say and begin to move away but to your luck, the game begins, and you have no choice but to stay frozen in place. where, thanos was right beside you, smiling triumphantly at the fact that you were still here

as the game begins, the players all seem to be moving calmly, nobody had lost till now. and it was all very relaxed, huh, maybe this wasn't as bad as you thought

but your relaxation went as quickly as it had come. a woman, not too far ahead of you, had a bee fly on her neck. a man beside her informed her about it and she--like any other person, panicked and moved, making her the first loser.

like in any other game, if someone lost they leave the game. so everyone expected her to just walk out, but as soon as she moved, a loud shot was heard. and you froze, the sight of her, falling to the ground--bullet to her head with blood already beginning to pool, you panicked.

what the hell was this? you knew this wasn't right! you knew there was a catch--but this? your heart raced, barely able to hear anyone with you. you watched helplessly as people began running and screaming, each one who moves an inch dies instantly by the shots firing from the sky.

you ran with every inch of strength you had, and just as the giant robotic doll stopped singing, you stopped. a tear streaming down your cheek, but you were too slow to realize--you were about to fall right when she turns her head.

you closed your eyes, accepting your fate. but somehow, you feel yourself still. you open your eyes, your chest heaving, you look down, seeing a pair of feet right beside you, probably the person holding you up

"don't move...okay? i got you" you hear the person say and you instantly know who it is, the same purple haired weirdo that had been trying to flirt with you earlier. his voice is...different though. it's not as cocky as it was before, you could hear a slight tremor, he's probably just as scared as you are

"th...thank you" you whisper out with tears streaming down your cheeks, the two of you continued on. holding on to each other as the game kept going, as soon as you finally reached the finish line, you hugged him tightly.

"thank you...thank you so much" you cry softly, so grateful. you thought he was just another guy that would probably let you die if it meant he wins, but to your surprise he wasnt.

he was a bit taken back by the sudden hug, but hugged you back. "i told you ill make sure you win too didn't i?" he says and you two pull away, and you smile half heartedly. annoyed by the reminder of his remark earlier, but still grateful. "i think it would be...kind of a bad story if i tell our kids i let their eomma die" he says and you shake your head, annoyed

soon, everyone was sitting in the room silently. not a single person was speaking, everyone was quiet. processing what they had just been through. you could see everyone had splashes of blood on them, probably from the people that have been shot around them. you sat alone, till you see thanos come and sit beside you

he's definitely not as scared as he was before, more hyper and aware of things. you could see him unable to sit still, sitting beside you while singing something to himself. he looks at you and grins, "im a kind man! ill share" he says and opens his cross necklace, which was fully supplied with candy. clearly not just any candy and probably the thing making him so hyper

you raise a brow and shake your head, you've been on that road before, it's what got you here. you'd rather not. "thank you...no. not again..." you mutter the last part to yourself, and he slows down his movements, noticing the distant look on your face.

"you try?" he says and you just nod, more to yourself than him.

"you don't wanna get too hopped up on that stuff...it's..not pretty" you say and he instantly closes his necklace, and kind of...just looks ahead, thinking.

soon, the guards come and everyone panics, some people crying and begging for them to spare their life. but the guards just stand there, trying to explain that that's not what's happening. one of the players, 456, suggests the idea that there should be a vote. you look at thanos for a moment

"are you...staying?" you say and he just nods, "i need to! im a legend yknow, this stuff is easy! can't go without my money" he says and you just look down. but he quiets down, "uh...are you?"

you quickly shake your head, "no--no i just...i want to go home." you say and get up to get in line for the vote, and he just follows you.

you vote for x, and go with the group, people cheering for you. thanos was right after you, and you can see him hesitate for a moment. his friend, can be heard telling him to keep playing. but he glances at you, just for a second, and presses x.

why would he do that? but he was in debt, he needs it way more than you do

after that, you woke up in the street. it was all a quick blur, as soon as the votes were counted up. the x votes more than the o. everything fades and you were alone in the street, tied up loosely with your clothes in a pile beside you. you managed to knaw the rope loose, and untied your legs, getting dressed.

the days went by quickly. you don't know what you were doing, but something just felt...wrong. not the games of course, never that. you'd rather die than play them again...but you die in the games too so its not really a good analogy. but anyway, it was just something. you were back on your own, without anyone, as it always was.

and you never did mind. you were used to it, so why was it...so strange now? so wrong?

you roamed the streets of korea, just lost in a daze, not really wondering where you're going. till you reach the arcade that was in the alley, you walk in and bump into someone

"hey! don't you--" the person's voice quickly came to a halt when they looked at you, you looked at them. it was none other than thanos. thanos! you don't know why, or how--but that feeling you've been going through ever since you managed to get out of the games, it was completely gone now.

the two of you looked at each other for a long time, before he smiles. "seniorita! i thought i'd never see you again!" he smiles and jumps around like an idiot. you should be weirded out, leaving and saying you don't want to see this freak again. but you don't. you stay and actually smile back

"this is great! now i have a partner to play with, les gooo!" he says and drags you along with him into the arcade without even giving you a chance to respond. the two of you had spent that time together, playing games and it was actually fun. for the first time you were...enjoying yourself

soon, you were both some convenience store nearby, eating ramen and laughing about how you both suck so bad at playing.

after a while it had grown quiet, and you wanted to just ask.

"...why did you vote x...when we were in the games?" you say and he just kind of looks away for a moment before looking back at you

"well!" he begins, trying to sound cocky, but you can tell he's just putting up a facade, "can't have the future eomma of my kids get hurt now, can i? to not be able...to go home" he says and just looks down, mixing in his ramen

you just look at him for a moment, its all so quiet. he was a freak, a weirdo when you met him. you said to yourself that this guy was clearly another junkie, some asshole thinking hes a big flirt. but right now...all you saw was just...thanos. hes just thanos.

"thank you thanos..." you say, just looking at him, and he stops mixing and looks at you, his cocky expression fading.

"choi su bong...my name...is choi su bong. thanos is just for...the ones i keep at a distance" he mutters and looks down, his hands--as if trying to reach for his cross necklace again, but you can hear him sigh when he realizes its not there

"did you lose it?" you ask and he shakes his head

"no...im not on that stuff anymore. well im trying at least." he says and you're surprised, you're pretty sure just a few days ago he was offering you a full stock.

"why's that?' you ask and he just looks back at you

"it's not pretty" he says, repeating your exact words. "well..still a long way to go but im starting" he says and nods to himself and you just smile

"you can do it...i know you can" you say and--mentally facepalm at what you're about to do, but you don't care that much. you hold up your hands and make the exact same pose he made to you when you were at the games, "you're a legend, thanos! this is easy" you say and he just chuckles at your attempt to imitate him

"yeah well i got you with me seniorita" he says softly, but quickly returns to his cocky expression, "im unstoppable now!"

you don't know what this was exactly. but whatever it is...you were happy with it

[neeeooon]

hey can I please request bllk boys reacting to touch starved reader wanting to touch them but doesn't want to come off as annoying or clingy?

you can do any of the bllk boys but would prefer if you include sae,rin and barou :)

YOU GOT IT BABE ty for the request!! 🤍🫶

when you’re touch starved ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

itoshi sae

-> sae is… complex. he’s hard to read, but you certainly enjoy trying to figure him out

-> one thing you can’t figure out, though, is his take on touch

-> sae isn’t a very touchy person when you’re together. you enjoy each others presence, but there isn’t a need for wandering hands or careless caresses

-> but after he returns from the business trip that stole him from you for two weeks, you’re in desperate need of more than a smile from him

-> you’re able to subtly get him alone, but even then he goes straight upstairs to take a nap. sighing, you begin to beam when you hear him call from the top, “are you coming, y/n?”

-> your feet can’t move faster as you fly up the stairs and into the bed, curling into your boyfriend’s side like your life depended on it. it wasn’t much, but you didn’t want to push

-> but then sae “falls asleep”, and when he does, his arm loops around your waist, hand on your stomach as he pulls you so that your back is flush against his chest

-> he can hear your quiet little giggles and smiles. “why didn’t you just ask, y/n?” “you’re tired, and i didn’t want to be annoying.”

-> “you’re not annoying,” he hums sleepily before placing a kiss on your shoulder blade and finally dozing off

itoshi rin

-> he isn’t a fan of pda, and you’re okay with that. you’d never do anything to make him uncomfortable, but you also don’t want to come off as annoying when you lean into his side or stare longingly at his empty hand

-> you’re hanging out together one day, rin curled on the couch with a book while you’re supposed to be watching tv

-> but you’re not. you’re watching him and the little crease of concentration appear between his brows as his teal eyes skim the page and you’re suddenly itching to be in his arm between his chest and his book

-> you slowly inch closer and closer until your thigh grazes his, but rin doesn’t move. you don’t want to interrupt or annoy him, but you are ten seconds away from hugging yourself

-> “rin?” you whisper. he blinks up at you expectingly, so you ignore the blush on your cheeks and say, “i need cuddles or i’m gonna die.”

-> after a few seconds, he snickers a little at your antics and moves his book to one hand, leaving a gap for you to slip against his chest

-> “am i not giving you enough attention?” “no :(“ “i’m sorry, lovely. i’ll do better.”

barou shouei

-> you’re too embarrassed to ask barou for anything physical when he’s around, since he’s usually busy, and you don’t want him to think you’re annoying

-> however. after your family left for nearly a week, leaving you alone, you were close to tears when barou came over and didn’t immediately hug you

-> “y/n?” “i’m okay!” “are you sure? you’re rubbing your arm very hard..”

-> you stop rubbing your arm and hug your middle instead. “i’m good! all good. um, h-how are you?”

-> he’s not believing that. worried that the loneliness is wearing on you mentally, he steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder. “i’m sorry for not being around recently. i’m here, now—“

-> “oh my god, can you just—“ you pluck his hands from your shoulders and place them on your face, sighing happily and how warm he is

-> barou stares down at you with red cheeks. “oh. you. um. oh.” “i don’t want to come off as clingy, but i will bite you if you aren’t hugging me in ten seconds.” he hugs you in two

karasu tabito

-> karasu is usually very good at keeping a hand on your waist or hips whenever you’re together, but he’s been distracted lately

-> you know he’s busy and stressed, so you don’t want to add to his annoyances with your clinginess

-> thankfully, karasu is not an idiot. “y/n?” he asks when you avoid looking at him for the fourth time in three minutes to pick at your jeans. “hm?”

-> “what are you thinking?” “… it’s embarrassing..” “no, it’s not, dear. i want to know.” “……. can i hold your hand?”

-> and he starts laughing, which makes your face flush bright red. “y/n, i’m your boyfriend. you don’t have to ask to hold my hand.” “but you’re so busy, and i—“

-> he cuts you off by taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. “you can hold my hand. do you want a hug as well?” “yes, please.”

yukimiya kenyu

-> you’re hot-natured and usually hate when people touch you, and yukimiya knows this, so he usually keeps a considerate but comfortable distance from you

-> however, you don’t see your boyfriend as “people”. you appreciate his consideration, but you feel like you’ll die if you go another day without physical contact

-> “yuki?” “yes, honey?” “um.. never mind,” you turn away, feeling clingy when he turned away from the paper in his hands to look at you

-> yukimiya furrows his brows and stands to gently catch your hand. he lets you go, remembering (incorrectly) that you don’t like his touch, and you cannot stand it anymore

-> “are you oka—“ “don’t laugh. please hold my hand again.”

-> he’d never laugh at you, but he does smile a bit. “oh? but i thought—“ “kenyu, i have not been touched by another human being in days. please hold my hand and hug me or i might go clinically insane.” “yes ma’am/sir.”

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ who said that I hate you? - OO2

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Where Y/n, in an attempt to escape from Charles, her rival, fails because Charles keeps getting closer, and Y/n starts to like it.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Charles Leclerc x Female Reader! Red Bull Driver

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Cute, Charles has improved from his foolishness, nothing too serious in this one, just fluff 🤍

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Notes: I didn’t really like this story, it feels like I couldn’t develop it very well, but I hope you like it! English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ part one here ! 🤍

You couldn’t deny how Charles’ proximity brought several consequences, like: the media. Everyone was speculating so many things that happened between you two, theories totally out of reality. You tried to avoid him as much as you could or push him away, but he was always there, and that irritated you.

When you thought the wave of bad luck had ended, the universe conspired against you again.

This time it wasn’t your fault. It was finally your chance to make it to the podium, you were in second place, and because of a mistake from your team, you ended up in sixteenth place. After the race, you didn’t want to talk to anyone, and everyone knew it.

Then you hear a knock on the door but completely ignore it.

“I know you’re in there,” Charles says, and you just ignore him again.

After a while, you hear another knock. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Go away, Leclerc,” you say straightforwardly.

After your response, there’s a deadly silence, then you just close your eyes and sigh. But within a few seconds, you get startled when your door opens.

Clearly, Charles hadn’t left, so he decides to check and see how you’re doing, then opens the unlocked door.

“Are you crazy, you idiot?” you say, irritated as he enters, still recovering from the shock. Charles smiles and leans against the doorframe.

“Before anything, I need to know. Are you going to break something? Because if you are, just let me know and I’ll leave,” Charles asks calmly, making your blood boil.

“I’ll break you, idiot!” you say, throwing a pillow at him, which he just catches.

“Look how bold you are,” Charles laughs, and you huff.

“Go to hell.” Your voice is quieter now. “What kind of idiot enters someone’s room uninvited?”

He ignores the provocation and gets closer, throwing himself on the couch like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Stressing yourself out alone won’t help anything, you know?” You squint your eyes at his words.

“Since when do you care about what I do?” He doesn’t answer right away. He just watches you, like he’s analyzing every expression.

“Since when did you stop hating me?” Charles says, and in that instant, you freeze.

And Charles notices.

His gaze locks on you for a second that’s too long, and for the first time, there’s something beyond rivalry there.

You look away, feeling your heart race in a way that annoys you deeply.

“Go screw yourself,” you say, still not looking at him, and Charles laughs softly.

“You’ve said that before, Y/n.”

He stands up and walks towards the door. But before leaving, he throws one last provocation:

“Try not to think too much about me, Y/n.”

And then, he leaves, leaving you even more confused and furious than before, not knowing what to respond.

( . . . )

The tension between you two grows to an unbearable point. Everything explodes in a tense practice, where Charles makes an aggressive move, and Y/n nearly hits the wall.

When you both get out of the cars, she goes straight to him in the pit lane, pushing him in the chest.

“What’s your problem?! You could’ve slammed me into the wall!”

Charles grabs her wrists, stopping her from pushing him again.

“You’re shaking. Are you scared, Y/n?” he asks, almost choking on the words.

You pull your arms forcefully, your face burning with anger.

“I will NEVER be afraid of you!”

He leans in slightly, closing the distance between them.

“Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

You pale.

Charles smiles.

You’re so angry that you almost punch him right there. But instead, you just glare at him with hatred and walk away.

But, for the first time, that hatred doesn’t feel so simple.

( . . . )

After that fight, Charles pulls back a bit. He stops provoking her so much, but Y/n misses it. This deeply irritates her.

Until one night, before an important race, she finds him alone in the pits, sitting with his arms crossed, staring at the car.

Without thinking, you approach him.

“So, you think sometimes too. I thought you only talked nonsense.” You say, stopping beside him.

Charles smiles, but doesn’t make a joke.

“Hey, what’s up, idiot? You’re way too quiet.” Her question makes him sigh.

You frown.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be tough,” Charles murmurs.

She frowns.

“You always say that, and in the end, you go speeding like there’s no tomorrow.” You respond, rolling your eyes, stating the obvious.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his face.

“This time it’s weird. I’ve been feeling bad since yesterday, like I have a fever or something.” His words make you worry, but you don’t show it.

“What?”

“If they find out, they won’t let me race. So you’re the only one who knows, and if you tell anyone, you’re done.” He says jokingly, and you cross your arms, skeptical.

“So you’re gonna hide this until you pass out in the car? Great plan.”

Charles gives a slight smile.

“I thought you’d like the idea. If I pass out, you can finally get first place.” You roll your eyes, but inside, you feel a strange tightness in your chest. He was really sick. And still, he was there, ready to race.

You sigh. You didn’t understand why this feeling of worry, especially since, above all, you hated each other, right? Of course, you hated each other, and could never be friends.

“You’re an idiot. But a fast idiot.” Charles turns his face to Y/n, surprised by the concern.

“That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Charles says sincerely, and you just roll your eyes as if you hadn’t said anything, but the truth was that you were really “kind,” and you didn’t understand why.

“Don’t get used to it,” you say bluntly.

But when you leave, you hate admitting that something between you two has changed.

And you didn’t know what it was.

( . . . )

The heat inside the car was suffocating, and Charles felt the sweat trickling down his neck as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. His body felt heavy, the fever draining his strength, but he couldn’t back down.

On the radio, the voice of the team sounded distant.

“Charles, how are the conditions?” The engineer asks, as usual.

He presses the radio button, trying to sound normal.

“Everything’s under control.”

Lie.

Nothing was under control, and Charles knew it, but he couldn’t admit it. The race seemed to last longer than expected, every corner demanding more from him than he was used to. His vision seemed blurry at times, but he was already here, and there was no way to quit.

A few laps later, Y/n had already noticed something was wrong. She saw Henrique in the rearview mirror, struggling more than usual to keep pace. He wasn’t driving with his usual aggression.

“Shit, he’s worse than he seemed yesterday,” you think to yourself, growing concern building up.

You grip the steering wheel, frustrated with yourself. Why were you worrying about him?

On lap 38, a mistake. Small, but enough.

Charles brakes too late in a corner and ends up sliding, losing position to Y/n. You pass him, but, when glancing at the car beside you, you see his hand trembling on the steering wheel.

He won’t make it through the entire race.

Y/n’s engineer’s voice comes through the radio:

“Good job, P2 now. Keep pushing the leader.” Your engineer says happily, but you weren’t on the same level of happiness.

You should be satisfied. But, for the first time, you weren’t.

When the race ends, Charles can barely get out of the car. As soon as his feet hit the ground, his legs give out. The fever, the exhaustion… everything hit him at once. He stumbles a little, trying to hide it, but before he can fall, someone catches him.

You.

You hold his arm firmly, preventing him from collapsing right there.

“I knew you were gonna do this shit,” you say, irritated.

Charles lets out a weak laugh.

“And I knew you’d catch me if I fell.” Charles says, cocky, making you roll your eyes, but you don’t let go of his arm.

The journalists notice the scene and begin to approach with cameras and microphones, sniffing out an interesting moment.

Before anyone can ask anything, Y/n steps forward, blocking Charles from their view.

“No questions right now. He needs rest.” You say firmly, but the journalists don’t leave.

Charles looks at you, surprised by the attitude. He didn’t expect this from you, not really.

You look at him.

“Come on, before I regret helping you.” You say, helping him again, making his body lean against yours.

Charles smiles lightly, liking the idea of being close to you.

“That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You sigh, impatient.

“I swear, if you say that again…” you say, impatient, but a slight blush creeping onto your face. Thankfully, you could say it was because of the race.

Charles laughs, but inside, he feels that something between you two has changed.

( . . . )

The deafening roar of the engines had faded, replaced by the cheers and applause of the crowd. You had won. Your first victory in Formula 1.

It was a dream come true, beyond just proving your ability and strength to everyone. You were radiant like never before, a genuine smile on your face.

You were on the podium, holding the trophy, champagne dripping through your fingers. Max and Lando, beside you, were smiling, but you could barely process anything. The world seemed like a blur of emotions and adrenaline. Your first victory after racing against rumors and trying to prove you were capable. And even more so, you were beside people you could trust and count on forever.

It was so rewarding.

The podium ceremony and trophy presentation, you couldn’t have been happier. Lando and Max, without excitement, sprayed champagne on you, celebrating.

When you were finally ready for interviews, you felt someone pull you by the wrist to a secluded spot.

You had seen this scene before, and your heart sank.

“Lando, please don’t tell me it’s another fake news about me,” you murmur sadly, and when you turn, you see Charles.

He says nothing. He just looks at you with an intensity that makes you forget all the confusion around you.

“You did it.” His voice is quieter than you imagined, but there’s a genuine smile on Charles’ face. You laugh, sighing.

“I did it, didn’t I? This is crazy. Doesn’t even feel real!” you say, like a child who just got a candy. You’re so happy, and it captivates your rival.

Charles hesitates for a second. You notice he wants to say something else, but at the last moment, he just smiles and pulls you into a tight, unexpected hug.

This time, you don’t resist and hug him back.

You both pull away from the hug, and the adrenaline runs through your body. Until you hear someone call your name, you quickly say a “see you later” to Charles and leave him there alone, thinking.

Charles’ heart hurt when he saw your fear that there might be more bad news about you.

It was clear Charles had been a jerk to you since he entered Formula 1, but he really didn’t understand why.

Maybe it was because pretending to hate you was easier than saying he loved you.

But he felt guilty instantly when he saw you broken, crying on Lando’s shoulder, when he saw you more vulnerable than ever.

He hated everyone who made you cry, and from that day on, he made a promise to himself: he didn’t want to be that kind of person.

The team decided to celebrate the win with a dinner. Everyone was there – the engineers, the drivers, even some members of the media. You were sitting next to Lando, listening to some nonsense joke he was telling, but you could feel a gaze on you.

When you looked up, there he was.

Charles, across the table, holding a glass, watching you like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

His eyes didn’t shift, not even when you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to say something.

And then, he smiled.

Small, discreet, but the kind of smile that made something inside you tremble.

You swallow hard and look away.

Damn it.

You turn back to Lando to hide it, but soon laugh at a completely absurd joke, laughing the same way Lando did at his own joke.

Later that night, you were outside the restaurant, enjoying the fresh air. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and the muffled sound of the celebration still echoed from inside.

“Running away from your own party?” You jump, startled, as soon as you hear someone behind you.

But as soon as you recognize the familiar voice, your heart skips a beat. You slowly turn around, and Charles is there, hands in his pockets, that intense look again.

“I just needed a moment.” You reply, looking away from Charles, now staring at the ground.

He nods and steps closer, stopping beside you. The silence between you two feels different now. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not easy to ignore either. When you look up again and look at Charles beside you, your heart skips.

Then, he extends his hand and, without warning, brushes a strand of hair from your face.

Your body stiffens. The touch is brief, but the skin where he touched feels like it’s burning. You see when Charles notices. You see when he finally understands.

And then, he smiles again.

“This might be a problem,” Charles says, looking at you with a smile. You just breathe deeply and nod, now looking away at the view in front of you. You can feel Charles staring at you.

( . . . )

In the next race, everything seemed normal. Or at least, it should have been.

You were talking with Lando and Max in the paddock, laughing at some silly thing Lando had just said. The atmosphere was light and relaxed, until you felt that gaze again.

Charles.

He was just a few meters away, arms crossed, listening to an engineer speak, but clearly not paying attention. His gaze was fixed on you. You did everything to hide the nervousness he caused, but your cheeks flushed slightly, and once again, your heart was faltering. You tried to focus on the conversation between the two drivers in front of you, but you failed miserably.

When your eyes met, something shifted. Your breath stopped in your throat, and time seemed to slow down. The only thing you could hear was your heart racing.

He squinted his eyes, as if irritated, leaving you confused. You raised an eyebrow and turned back to your friends. After a few minutes, you felt someone tap your shoulder.

You turned around and saw the person you really wanted to avoid.

“Y/n, can we talk?” Charles said, sounding irritated. You were confused and choked on your own saliva. Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the interruption. Lando looked at you, puzzled, then looked at Max.

“Now?” You asked, suspicious.

“Now,” Charles said firmly, and you nodded, with no real option.

You said goodbye to the others and followed him to a more secluded spot. Charles took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but in the end, he just blurted out:

“What were you doing with them?” He said bluntly, and you blinked, surprised. You opened your mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say.

“Excuse me?” You responded, still in shock.

“What were you doing with them? Max and Lando,” Charles repeated, moving a little closer to make sure he heard you right. You laughed in disbelief.

“Talking? Laughing? Ever heard of that?” You said, obviously crossing your arms.

He didn’t laugh. He remained serious.

“With Max? With Lando?” He asked again, and you tilted your head, still a little lost in all of this.

“Yes. What’s the problem?” You said innocently, and Charles thought it was cute, but then remembered why he was there.

Charles ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

“The problem is that…” He stopped in the middle of the sentence, closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again, now with a determined glint.

“Forget it.” The driver in front of you took a step forward. Now, you were so close that you could smell him, a mix of fuel and expensive cologne. Charles turned around to leave, but you grabbed his wrist, freezing him in place.

“What’s wrong, Charles?” You whispered, your voice softer than you intended.

He hesitated for a moment. But only for a moment.

Then he murmured:

“I don’t like seeing you with them, I don’t know.” Charles shrugged. Your heart raced.

And for the first time, you saw in his eyes what you had only suspected before.

And you stood there for a while, just looking at each other. You sighed, half enjoying the confession, but it made you even more lost.

Then, without warning, Charles stepped closer, and again, you smelled him. You were only a few centimeters apart.

“C-Charles?” You called him.

“Yes?”

“What is this?” You asked, but completely lost in the proximity.

He didn’t answer. He just took a step forward, closing the distance between you. His hand found your face, hesitant at first, but firm enough for you to feel the warmth against your skin.

And then, without waiting any longer, Charles kissed you.

It wasn’t a rushed or uncertain kiss. It was something intense, charged with everything that had been hanging in the air for so long—unspoken teasing, glances that lasted a little too long, words never said but always felt.

You kissed him back without thinking. One of your hands grabbed his shirt, as if you needed something to hold on to. The other found his neck, feeling how he leaned in even more toward you.

The world around you disappeared.

It was just him. Just the two of you.

And when you finally pulled away, your faces still close, your breaths mixing, Charles smiled. That crooked, teasing smile, but now it was different—there was something more there now.

“Now tell me… are you still going to pretend this means nothing?”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you didn’t look away. With a small smile, he gently ran his thumb across your cheek before adding, almost like a whisper:

“Because I can’t, I can’t pretend and deny what I feel for you, Y/n.”

( . . . )

The tension between you two had only grown since that conversation, that kiss. You couldn’t deny your mood had undoubtedly improved.

Now, minutes before the race start, you were on the grid, mentally reviewing the strategy, trying to concentrate. But your mind kept drifting back to Charles.

Then, he appeared. The red suit, the determined eyes, but at the same time… different.

He approached without hesitation.

“Good luck, Y/n,” you loved the way he said your name.

You smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Do I need it?” You asked, laughing, and Charles smiled.

He shrugged.

“No. But I needed an excuse.”

You furrowed your brow.

“An excuse for what?” You asked innocently again, and Charles smiled.

And then, again, without warning, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth.

Not a full kiss. Just a touch, a test.

But it was enough to take your breath away.

Before you could react, he was already pulling away, putting on his helmet, and heading to his car. He turned to you and winked.

You stood there, frozen.

Lando, who had seen everything, whistled. You looked at him, lost, your face turning as red as a tomato.

“That was interesting,” he said, crossing his arms. You hit his arm.

Lando laughed and raised an eyebrow. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what, Norris?” You said impatiently.

“That you two are… like this,” he pointed to you and then to Charles.

“Like what?”

“Like this!” Lando said, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, Y/n, you used to hate each other, and now he comes and kisses you in front of everyone, not even embarrassed.”

You couldn’t respond, just shrugged.

Because, in that moment, one thing became absolutely clear.

This was no longer a game.

( . . . )

You won.

Again.

But this time, the only thing you wanted wasn’t to lift the trophy or spray champagne.

It was to find Charles.

And he knew that.

As soon as the ceremony ended, you felt a hand on your wrist. He pulled you into a corner, away from the cameras, the journalists, any distractions.

His eyes were shining, but it wasn’t just from the race.

“How many more times are we going to pretend this isn’t happening?” Your chest tightened because you knew exactly what he meant.

You exhaled, a small smile forming on your lips.

“I think it’s already enough, right? You kissed me in front of everyone, I don’t think we need to pretend anymore.” You said, smiling like a happy little girl.

His smile grew, full of something new—certainty.

“Good.” And this time, when he leaned in, there were no doubts, hesitations, or teasing.

This time, it was real. And you knew there was no turning back, so you continued.

Charles pulled back and kissed your forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with love.

“I want to hear that from you.” Charles said, holding your hand.

“Hear what?” You said, pretending not to understand, and Charles groaned, throwing his head back.

“If we’re going to be like this, I’ll say it first. Before anything, I want to apologize for being such a jerk. I thought pretending to hate you was easier than telling you how much I like you.” Charles sighed, and you felt like you were floating. Your heart leaped with joy, and the only thing you could do was hug him, so you did.

“It’s okay, Charles. This can stay in the past.” You said, still hugging him. Charles let go of you and held your waist firmly. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“And besides, I think I like you a little too.”

“A little?” He complained, pretending to be offended.

“Yes, just a little.” You said, showing with your fingers how small the amount was. Charles laughed and gave you a quick kiss.

“You’re going to be my downfall, Y/n.” Charles said, and you kissed him.

[amatoryscripts]

Review Sesh With Top Student Gojo

Hehe hiii. This is my first fic ever. I hope this finds the right people and that you all like it. Drop a follow and request for more. Enjoy.

⭑.ᐟPairing: au! college student Gojo x slacker fem! reader

⭑.ᐟ Summary: You're paired with Satoru for a presentation for your Victorian Literature course. When he catches you skipping class while having nothing done for your part, he decides it's time for an intensive review session.

warning/tags: 18+ MDNI. fem reader, slacker reader, kinda mean Gojo, rough sex, overstimulation, praise, reader is a slight brat, edging (?), slight choking, but nothing crazyyy (barely choking).

Satoru Gojo was at the top of all his classes, no matter the subject. Earning high scores in the courses that he found boring and useless. For his Victorian Literature course, he was paired up with you for a presentation on any topic gone over in the course. Satoru landed on Victorian morality, a topic they went over in class a few weeks back. Granted, you missed half of the lectures on it, so he didn't expect you to know anything.

When your professor paired you two up, Satoru wasn't exactly elated. You had a habit of skipping classes, using up your excused absences, and doing whatever you wanted except your work. He was surprised you weren't failing, but you also weren't high up in the class ranking. He couldn't let you be the reason he failed this presentation.

He set out on a mission to get a hold of you, realizing that you've been purposely dodging his calls. You two didn't have the best dynamic, but that didn't mean you could ignore him when it came to working together. He was getting frustrated by the second, but he knew exactly where to find you.

His long legs led him to the football field, where you tend to linger most of the time when you aren't in class like you're supposed to be. You were on the field, lying on the turf, looking up into the sky with your chunky headphones on. Music blares in your ears, unaware of your surroundings. You twirl your seaweed candy around your mouth, letting it's saltiness melt on your taste buds. It was so peaceful on the field when the players didn't have practice. You could fall asleep if you really wanted to. Your phone began to ring, your eye twitch in irritation. You knew it was Satoru. He was blowing up your phone all day. It was getting tiresome constantly denying his calls, but you did it anyways. You return to basking in the sun with your eyes closed, humming to the music.

A shadow suddenly looms over you, blocking the sun from warming your face. The ringing of your phone joins in on distubring you once again. You furrow your brows, wondering what idiot is standing over you. As you reluctanly open your eyes, they widened in surprise; it wasn't a pleasant one. Fuck, you thought to yourself as you lifted your head, pulling the headphones down to your neck. Satoru stares down at you with a sharp glare and his phone at his ear.

You were trying to avoid him all week, not wanting to deal with him hounding you about the presentation. Your goal to evade him failed miserably.

In his room, the coursework material from class was sprawled across his desk; his laptop opened, displaying the work he's done so far. You had nothing on your slides, just the titles followed by blank spaces.

"I told you I was going to add my part in later," you groaned in frustration, leaning back in the chair with your arms crossed. You didn't want to be near him. On the way here, he spent the whole walk explaining how you're an unreliable partner and how they'll fail the presentation if you don't do your slides by tonight. You would retort, calling him a hard ass, but he didn't care. He’d counter with calling you a slacker, poking at the side of your head, as you groaned and swat his hand away.

"And when was that going to be?" He scoffs, turning to you, leaning forward, eyes flickering in irritation. "5 minutes before class?"

"No," you lied, knowing it was something you've done plenty of times. "I know the material; it wouldn't be hard to add my parts in," you mumble, irked that he tracked you down just to scold you into working.

"Oh really? if you know the material, then you would've been done with your portion of the presentation by now," he pointed out. "You're such a damn slacker," he hisses.

You leans forward, gripping the bottom of the wooden chair. "Am not!" you deny, rejecting the label he gave you not too long ago.

Ever since you two met, Satoru didn't waste the chance to call you out on your work ethic in class. You hated how smug he was just because he was at the top of all his classes. It annoyed you to be paired with such a dweeb who thought he was the best at everything. It didn't help that he was also attractive and managed to have half the school obsessed with him because of his looks and brains. People were either head over heels or jealous. When he would playfully flirt with others, they would swoon and have him stuck in their head for as long as they could. Once upon a time, even you had a thing for him. Like everyone else, you found him incredibly easy on the eyes and thought his intelligence was a plus. A part of you still does, deep down in a vault you refused to open. Once he began opening his big mouth, commenting on how you skipped classes and did your work at the last minute, that fantasy faded away and was replaced with intolerance.

"Okay then," he pulls out the outline he created when he found out the pairing for the presentation, knowing you wouldn't have made one for yourself. He reads off the first question. "What was the dominant moral code during the Victorian era, and how did it influence societal behavior?"

You thought about the question for a minute, your eyes glancing arround the room, as if the answer would appear in the space. You were getting slightly irritated that you couldn't answer fast enough. If you asked him the same question, he would've answered without hesitation. "Hedonism...?" Your tone reflected how unsure you were of your answer. Satoru chuckles at how wrong you were.

"You know absolutely nothing, and we're going to fail because of you." His harsh words, paired with his laughing at you, elicit a huff from you.

"If you're so smart," you snatch the outline from his hand, "then you answer."

He leans back in his chair, pushing his hands in his pockets confidently. Did you really think he didn't know all the answers? "The dominant moral code was rooted in Christian values, emphasizing piety, chastity, and respectability. It influenced societal behavior by promoting strict norms, mainly around family, public conduct, and sexuality." his voice lowered at the last example "Any deviation was seen as immoral and lead to ostracization."

You fixed your eyes on the paper to see if he was right. Of course, he was right; he always was, but you would never admit that to him out loud. You toss the paper onto the desk. "Whatever," you mutter.

He rolls his eyes at your behavior. You were always like this around him. So annoyed and bratty. He picks up the outline, scanning over the rest of the questions before speaking. "You need to know the answers to all of these questions. They're important key points in the presentation." he points out, "You would know that if you read the digital copy I sent you. You would've even been done with your part of the slides too." You sink into the chair avoiding his eyes. He pondered on how he could get you to retain the answers and start your part of the presentation. Imagining you fumbling in front of the class and the professor sounded like a nightmare — it would be embarassing for him. Appealing to you was the only answer he came up with.

"How about this?" he began. "If you do your portion correctly and help get us that A, I'll get you a week's worth of that gross-ass bubblegum you eat so much."

Your interest piqued once he mentioned the seaweed candy you liked to suck on throughout your days. You perked up and looked for any sign of deception on his face. "Are you being for real?". You were surprised he even noticed that. One thing you both had in common was an affinity for sweets, and you knew he could easily get you a large batch of your favorite candy.

"Only if you go through with your end of the deal." he waits for your answer, hoping he was right to put that deal on the table.

You clear your throat, attempting to be nonchalant, recognizing your visible excitement. "Fine, it's a deal."

Hours went by, and despite the candy being an incentive, you still failed to get most of the answers correct. "I'm starting to regret skipping class that week," you murmurs, hating how you were flopping so hard.

"Well, you got four out of the fifteen questions right," he acknowledged, also wishing you would come to class more.

"That's not enough," you groan, running your hand down your face. Despite the situation, Satoru was being surprisingly patient with you. He understood that scolding you would just lead to more arguments that wouldn't benefit you two right now. He observes you going over the outline and class materials on his desk. You were actually trying; it was endearing. A low chuckle escapes his lips.

"Are you laughing at me?" Your cheeks became warm, hating when he laughed at you. It reminded you of the one time you got an answer horribly wrong in class. His chuckles could be heard from a few rows over. You did get payback by tripping him when everyone filed out of the lecture hall. You knew you weren't the best student, but you were trying.

"Yes," he admits, his smile not leaving his face, "only because you actually look cute like this. All frustrated and determined." His words made you freeze for a moment. Did he really just call you cute? You didn't know how to respond, not expecting those words to leave his mouth. Those feelings you had for him when you first met began banging against the vault door, plotting to escape. You wanted to reject it, keeping them inside, reminding yourself that this was the same guy who thought he was hot shit and insults you when he gets the chance.

"Stop making fun of me," you huff, looking over the outline once more, attempting to grasp the material like your life depended on it.

"I'm not making fun of you." His voice was low and almost seductive. Your knees were touching, and only he was fully aware of it, pressing his against your's even more. "It's cute how you're trying so hard," he leans against his closed fist, scanning your face.

You recognized that he was being sincere, causing your brain to feel like it was on fire. The way he stared at you made your heart skip a beat. You wish you could clobber it, wanting it to stop making you feel this way.

"You know, during the Victorian era, the literature of the time tended to explore the themes of forbidden desires and the consequences of repression," he leaned in closer, his knee now slipping between yours. "Are you repressed, (y/n)?" A sly smile decorates his lips. You knew he was a flirt but was never a target of it. You have always seen it play out from afar, watching both men and woman find their knees buckling, and cheeks hurting from smiling so hard.

"No," you lied, knowing damn well you were. You were picky when it came to the guys at the university. They were all either jerks, idiots, or just boring. Satoru? He was none of those things. Maybe a jerk, but other parts could make up for it if you two didn't have the rapport you had.

"You're such a bad liar," he chuckles, bringing himself closer to you, his lips ghosting over your ears. "Come on, (y/n). Stop being so stubborn for once." Your heart betrays you and begins to race from how close he was to you. It felt like you were being sucked into the black hole that is Satoru. Maybe you wanted to let it happen. He brought his hand to your thigh, squeezing it gently. "Why don't we try a different way to get these answers in that cute head of yours?"

It happened so quickly. You don't remember how you gave in, or what you said, but you were on his bed, legs spread wide as he kissed your inner thighs, staring up at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, paired with an equally playful smile.

"Now, what was the role of religion in shaping Victorian sexual ethics?" he questioned you, his lips grazing your core, planting soft kisses over your folds. You felt ridiculous like this. You unknowingly try to close your legs from feeling so exposed, but he pushes them apart further. "Answer", he commands, licking a long stride up your wet folds to your clit.

"It... religion..." You couldn't focus on the question with him between your legs. If someone told you six months ago that Satoru Gojo would be going down on you, staring at your cunt like he was craving to get lost in it, you'd be wide-eyed, telling them to fuck off.

"Come on, (y/n). You know this," he reminds you as he sucks on the sensitive bud. " Think with that little brain." You groan in indignation at him calling your brain litte.

You searched for the answer in your head, trying to not let it drift away as your pleasure fought to override your brain. He was devouring you like a hungry man, moaning into your cunt. You slowly found the answer you were looking for. "Religion...emphasized chastity...modesty...and the sanctity of marriage," you manage to get out. "Sex outside of marriage was seen as immoral... sinful."

Pleased by your response, Satoru brings two fingers up, pushing them inside of you slowly "Good girl," he praises, that sly smile never leaving his face, "I told you you knew it. Such a good job".

Your body trembled from his voice and the feeling of his long digits moving at a slow and rhythmic pace, curling up inside, seeking that sweet spot.

"So wet..." he comments in a low tone. "And here I thought you hated me." His movements coaxed out soft moans from your lips. Your fingers gripping his sheets. "Doesn't feel like you do now." He smirks, his fingers moving a bit faster than before as he continues his focus on your clit. At this rate, you weren't sure if you could even answer the line of questions he had for you.

"W-What if I still hated you?" you stutter, trying to keep up your front, twitching from the way he sucked and swirled his tongue around your clit. You stiffle a soft whimper, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing how good he made you feel.

"You can't be this wet and still hate me," he groans into your cunt, pushing one leg back, giving his fingers access to go deeper. He was right. How could you when he was sending you into a state of euphoria just from his mouth and fingers? Your back arches up, as your hips thrust up into his face. He holds you down with his arm, not letting you move.

You can feel your orgasm creep up on you, tightening around his fingers. As you prepare cum on his tongue, he pulls out, removing his mouth from your clit. Your eyes widen in disbelief, a whine spilling from your lips. He brings himself up, crashing his lips against yours, cupping your face with his big hand, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Don't get distracted," he tells you, enjoying the fact that you were annoyed at him for not making you cum. He brings his lips to your neck, kissing a spot that makes you whimper. "What authors explored sexual morality in their work?"

"Satoru, please," you cry, clenching around nothing. You just wanted him to go back between your legs, craving that heat course through your body again. He brings his lips to your ear, nibbling on your lobe.

"Answer the question, and I'll make you feel even better," he promises, not wanting to make you cum until you do. With his head buried in the crook of your neck, he brings his hand up to knead your chest, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you let out a sharp gasp. You try your best to remember the names. With the only stimulation in your body from him kissing your neck and toying with your nipples, it was a bit easier to recall the authors.

"Swinburne, Stoker..." Satoru bites your neck and continues twisting and pulling on your nipple as you get the names right. "Collins...Braddon," you continue, seeking for the final name. He moans in validation, encoring you to continue. You try to remember the last name, but it becomes blurry in your mind.

"Come on, you can do it," he brings his mouth down to your other nipple, sucking and moaning around it." Who else?" His fingers begin traveling to your soaked clit, rubbing circles around it, watching your lips part and face scrunch up.

"and...fuck! Brontë!" you cry out the name quickly, your hips bucking into his hands from the sensitivity. You feel him stop, and just as you were about to complain. He flips you over on your stomach, bringing your ass up to his hips, feeling how hard he's gotten.

"I need to feel you," he groans, not caring about throwing out more questions. He's desperate to be inside you and feel the same tightness his fingers felt earlier. He pumped his cock slowly, staring at your dripping pussy, begging for him to take you. Your cheek pushes into the sheets, glad he gave up on quizzing you. He gripped your hips, pulling you back on him, slowly pushing into you, but just the tip. His chest hits your back, "Want me to keep going?" he groans, moving back and forth, his cock begging to be invited in.

"Just fuck me already, Satoru!" You whine, tired of waiting. You just wanted to feel him completely consume you.

He brings a hand around your throat. "Don't be such a brat," he growls, pulling your head back by your neck. "Why don't you ask nicely?" You groan in frustration, your disobediance daring to take over.

"Please," you beg softly, catching his blue eyes, "I really want you to fuck me." You felt embarrassed, but it was soon worth it when he was pushing all of himself inside of you. A sharp gasp leaves your mouth as your body jerks from the way he stretches you. Satoru lets out a string of moans from feeling how tight you are around him. He begins thrusting at a faster pace, feeling the way your soaking walls gripped him as he does so.

" Oh fuck... you feel so good," he groans, digging his fingers into your hips, throwing his head back from your sweet whimpers and the way your heat englufed him. He looks down with half lidded eyes, taking in how his cock disappears into your pussy, sucking him in deeper, calling out to him. "You're taking me so well. God... you're so fucking tight...so wet". With one arm, he wraps it around you, bringing you up against his chest. His other hand takes on rubbing your clit as he pistons inside, kissing your neck. "You like how I'm fucking you, hm?" You attempt to respond, but your words are replaced by small cries. "Be a good girl for me and use your words" he instructs, a velvet laugh pouring out of him as he pulls back, slamming into you. "What, you can't talk? Is it that good?" He watches as your face twist from ecstacy, feeling how deep he was, hitting your cervix while playing with your sensitive nub. "Can't have you fucked too stupid before the presentation though," he groans, pushing you down into the mattress as he pounds into you. He can feel that you're about to cum from the way your body twitched and clenched around him, your breathing growing heavy and whines becoming louder. "Mhm, come on. Cum all over my cock. You can do it. Come on. Ha~....comeee on." You feel your orgasm rip through you as he talks you through it. Your moans and whines fill the air, crying out his name. "That's riiiight. Say my name. That's all I wanna hear from that pretty mouth". You spasm around him, your arms giving up on you as you fully collapse on the bed. “You did so good." Satoru keeps fucking into you, beginning to chase his own release, feeling how close it was. "Where do you want it?" he asks, knowing he couldn't cum deep in your pussy, despite how much he really wanted to right now. The thought of feeling your gummy walls and his hot cum being pushed deeper inside makes his cock twitch. "Fuck! You're gonna make me lose my mind." His movements become erratic and sloppy, the sound of his hips hitting your ass washing over the room. "I'm about to cum. Ah! tell me...please" he begs.

"Anywhere," you breathe, gripping the pillow above. After a few more rough strokes inside you, Satoru pulls out, flipping you over by your hips while pumping his cock with his other hand. He drops down, kissing you deeply, biting your bottom lip as white ribbons of his cum begin to shoot on your stomach dripping down your torso.

"Fuck..." he pants, dropping his head into your neck. You unconsciously run your fingers through his white hair as he catches his breath. He brings his hand to your waist, feeling his cum on the side of your stomach, squeezing you gently. "Being partners isn't actually that bad at all." A breathless laugh fills her ears.

"You really like being partners with a slacker?" you smirk, your fingers still exploring his hair. He looks up, eyes hazy with contentment.

"As long as you start coming to class," he hums, nipping at your neck.

" Do I still get my candy?" there was no way you were going to let him forget. You could almost taste the familiar salty bubblegum rolling around your mouth.

"Gross... of course you do," he sighs, smirking at her disturbing taste.