#and asking him to tell me exactly what happened to make him willing to act like that with leo in the first place | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunny-jpeg · 11 months ago

Text

make amends (lando's version)

lando norris & max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, max gf!reader, sharing, forgiveness, missionary, sex w lando, protected sex (thank god!), rivalry, dirty talk/degradation, humiliation, language that can be seen a misogynistic, mean!max & lando, hair pulling

max version

bunny says: i know everything has been forgiven, but ya know... ya knoooow

max realized he had done something wrong, being presented with the evidence of the collision at the austrian grand prix had him a little second-guessing himself.

"shit." he muttered to himself. he knew that he was going to have to make it up to lando. most would just talk it out in private or even in front of the cameras. but max knew that he royally fucked up.

and it would take a fair bit for the other driver to be willing to make amends. but he knew the way that lando looked at you, how you'd often wave and him and his eyes would go wide before he dumbly waved back.

max knew exactly what would patch up their relationship. he told you over dinner before he ate you out in the bathroom. your dress pushed up and his nose against your clit. you whimpered that you would do it for him, anything to help his career!

"a night. have her, all to yourself. and all is forgiven." max said to the other driver as they were standing near a wall before they had to start practice.

lando looked at him, "have her? like, fuck her."

max's jaw tensed, "i don't want to hear anything about it afterwards. you get one fuck and that's it." he showed his finger indicating how many times lando could fuck you.

"i thought i was getting one night?" lando looked at him curiously, "how long do you think it takes me to get off?" he laughed, "but i accept your offer. name a time and place." then nudged his fellow drive in the arm.

the hotel you were staying at with max in silverstone was beautiful. then again all the places that you stayed with him were beautiful. you could tell that max was tense.

"it'll be fine, max." you said as you adjusted the lacy bra that was picked out for the evening. a harsh yellow and red, like the redbull colours. max's last ditch effort to establish some kind of dominance. you were just thankful you looked nice in it.

his eyes raked your body, "i don't want him to get the wrong idea, but it was all i could think of." his eyes met yours, "he probably doesn't even know how to fuck well."

you went over to him and took his face in your hands, "you're acting like this has never happened before. i'm pretty sure many girlfriends and wives have had to help in making sure her partner didn't have a target on his back!"

he took you by the waist and pressed his scratchy cheek against your middle. he sighed, "if he does anything."

"then." you replied as you carded your fingers through his brown hair, "he won't know what hit him."

when lando came, you greeted him at the door. you were standing there in the skimpy lingerie. the other drive chuckled, "possessive much, eh, max?"

max looked over, he was seated on the couch. he looked at him and narrowed his eyes. his attention was brought to your ass as you went in and pulled him in for a tight hug.

lando hugged you back before you took him by the hand and brought him inside. lando kicked his sneakers off and dumbly followed you through the lavish hotel room. you got into the bedroom and sat down with a smile. lando could feel max close behind before he went over and sat on the edge of the bed. lando asked, "why are you still here?"

max made a face with his bottom lip stuck out and shrugged, "have to make sure you don't try anything stupid."

lando chuckled, "right, right. not worried that you're little minx of a girlfriend is not gonna try anythin' herself?"

you looked at lando and pulled his face towards you, "will all be forgiven after tonight?"

lando laughed, "depends how good you fuck me." then ran his tongue across the top row of his teeth like a predator. he fell into the massive bed with you and felt you start to unbutton his shirt.

lando's hands wandered your exposed skin and his lips found yours. he helped you got his clothes off, especially his belt which almost hit max when lando got it off. once he was naked, he looked over at max as he undid the bra and exposed your breasts to him.

"pretty girl." he chuckled, "don't ya think, mad max?" then grinned at the other man.

max replied, "yeah, i know. i get it every night." he tried to keep a cool head which lando peeled your soaked panties off of you.

lando spoke like you weren't under him, naked and ready to be fucked. he said to max, "ya know, i think you should whore her out more often."

max frowned as he reached over and brushed your face with his knuckle, "i like to keep what is mine." you could feel the energy between the two of them. they were rivals and one was fucking the other's girlfriend.

lando chuckled, "i bet charles would love to have a spin with her." he spoke about you like you were one of the cars on the track. like you should have mclaren or redbull tattooed on your ass.

regardless it made you squirm as you felt lando's cock press against your stomach, he was painfully hard and leaky against your belly button. he was decently sized but not so much that it was intimidating.

max looked up at the fellow driver and said, "let her on top and she goes fast. don't you, mijn liefje?" then looked down at you. he could tell you were getting hot and heavy from it all.

lando started to grope your breasts as he made out with you once more. his cock was squished between your bodies and he was starting to feel hot all over.

max threw the shiny packaging of a condom at lando's head and said, "wear it."

lando picked it up from the bed and looked at max, "aw, where's your fun there, mad max?"

max replied, "i'm not raising your fucking bastard." he could feel a little hot under the collar as he watched you underneath the other driver.

lando admired your nude body as he sat up right, straddling your waist as he put the condom on. he made a noise and said, "i should've said it didn't fit." he looked at max out of the corner of his eye.

max replied, "why, they're too big?"

lando shot daggers at the other man before he bent you in half. your knees to your chest and your glistening pussy exposed to him. he licked his lips before he said, "i'll fit in here just fine though, i wonder if you could ever stretch her out. or am i the biggest she's ever had?"

he made a face when you pulled him back by the hair for him to focus on you. he looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

"do you want to fuck me or max?" you replied, you could feel the anticipation creep up into your throat.

lando smiled at you and pressed the tip of his cock against your wet entrance. he held you by the thighs and pressed into you, "i'd rather fuck you, love. plus you got the pretty pussy." he went in for another rough kiss as he bottomed out into you.

you felt the air leave your lungs from the feeling of his cock spearing your pussy open. you dug your manicured nails into his shoulders as he got all the way to the root.

"holy shit." lando grumbled, he looked over to max as he loomed over you, "ya fuck her good, huh? what else does this little slut like?" his grin was wicked.

max held you by your hair and looked in your eyes, then to lando. he replied, "she likes when you're rough. she likes to be used, ask nicely and she might lick the cum out of your uniform."

you blushed and looked away, but max gripped your hair and make you look at him.

"tell him, mijn liefje."

you whined when you replied, "i sucked him off with his uniform still on!" then whimpered when he yanked on your hair more, "and then i licked the cum out of it when i made a mess!"

lando looked at max and said, "where the fuck did you find her?"

max went back to stroking your hair and replied, "they don't 'em like her anymore.' he smiled, feeling a bit smug by how impressed lando was with you, "there's no money in the world that could buy a girl like this."

lando gripped onto your hips as he rocked into you. your pussy was nice around his cock, "well, she is a fine piece of ass. a nice little whore to bury your cock in."

max replied, he laid out beside you. he felt hot in the jeans and t-shirt he wore. he also felt out of place. he looked at you, your naked body under the other man. "wouldn't have kept her as long if she wasn't good at fucking. i don't have the patience to train someone."

"oh, so she was already broken in?"

max shook his head as he reached for you breasts and palmed one of them, "oh no. she was brand new when i got my hands on her. never even sucked cock before." the language they were using made you feel like a toy that had been used over and over again. but it also made the heat rise to your ears.

you felt squished under lando and your heart was in your throat. max rarely spoke about you like that, in such terms. but behind closed doors, well you were just the verstappan's sex toy who he got to parade around the paddock.

make the likes of lando jealous.

"trained her huh, you should take a second career in girl training." lando chuckled before he looked back at you. he cupped your face and moved your head from side to side, "world needs more good little sluts like you."

your pussy clenched around lando's cock and he loved the feeling of that. you whimpered as he started to pick up the pace. the sounds of sex and your heavy breathing filled the air.

you matched lando's pace as he cock bullied your insides. your panted and moaned, you clawed at his back, making a mess of it! your heart hammered in your chest as you laid under him.

max's hand was in your hair as the man watched you being fucked. he hoped that lando kept his end of the bargain, or else he was going to make sure that smug fucker wasn't getting podium in silverstone. he didn't give away his girl's cunt for nothing.

"that's a good girl." lando said, "fuck yeah."

he managed to pull, one, two and eventually three orgasms out of you. you were a mess under him. each orgasm hit like a train and turned you brain off. you panted and whined like an animal as he just kept going.

sweat covered your body and you face felt hot. your cunt squeezed his cock as if it never wanted to let it go. the entire scene was hot. if only the press got their hands on this story, then everyone would know that you were a filthy whore.

with a few more hard thrusts of his hips, lando gripped onto your hips and shoved his entire length into your cunt. he came in the condom with your wet cunt around it. part of him wish he could've bare-backed you.

"fuckin' hell!" he croaked. his legs felt like jelly as his pace staggered then slowed. he could feel the pinpricks of heat at the nape of his neck. the rush made his head throb.

"lando." you whimpered.

lando looked down at you and licked the sweat off your cheek, "good girl." he got off of you and went to get rid of the condom. he was panting like an animal as he staggered over to the waste bin to toss it out. he leaned against the wall for a moment, the energy taken out of him.

"holy shit." he said.

max had you in his arms. still in his clothes. you had taken to rubbing your achy cunt all over the expensive calvin kleins. you left a sticky wet spot on the thigh.

"you liked that didn't you?" he asked. you whined in response.

"hey verstappen." lando said as he came back to bed, "give me another condom, you said all night."

max looked at you then him as lando crawled behind you. he leaned over to the nightstand behind him and pulled out the box.

"value pack? are you that cheap, verstappen?"

"no. because when you eventually get tired with her. i'm going next."

724 notes · View notes

ireneaesthetic · 1 year ago

Text

Pointing out little moments and details of my fav s3 scene.

choir practice scene • episode 2

this scene caught me so off guard, in the best way possible.

it only took simon's "you should do an activity you actually like" for wilhelm to drop everything and choose getting to spend more time with him!

simon's reaction at wille joining the choir was also mine: he can't believe his eyes and keeps looking back at him with the brightest smile on his face. and simon shifting wille's attention to where the song lyric is bc it's all new to him is adorable.

wilhelm's little proud smirk between the kisses while simon is so into it: he knew and imagined simon's surprised and happy reaction to all this, but i bet he was thriving to see it up until this very moment. so he might just be thinking that he made the best choice of his life.

having to practice and wait for everyone to leave was probably torture for simon, when all he really wanted to do since wille came in was this (simon's main love language is clearly acts of service btw *cough*). he felt important, cared for, loved - and couldn't wait to reciprocate it.

also, he's holding the key chain and happens to do the middle finger with the same hand. if you look at it as a way of saying 'mind your own business' to us is quite funny.

simon setting the rhythm and wilhelm fully going along with it. they don't even separate their lips before leaning in for another kiss - melting into it. they literally said 'no need to catch air bc we're already breathing each other in'.

simon not breaking physical contact even once. his hands are the third main character in this scene: they act like a glue for their bodies and carry so much passion. it is peak chemistry.

going on his tiptoes to push himself as close as possible and clinging to wille for dear life is the most simon thing he's ever done. love really brings out the cuddliest version of him.

smiling into the kisses and out of the kisses? insane of them if you ask me (i support it) (keep doing it lovers).

wille smiling and biting his lip bc he's the one overwhelmed by simon's presence now. physical touch is his love language and he's flooded with simon's - he must feel the luckiest boyfriend on earth.

one of their greatest proofs of love has always been to provide each other's comfort by being exactly what they lack receiving from other people or what they need most of the times - it's a constant learning of how to give and take.

they can't get enough of it: it's not even only about the kissing but more about their need to just keep pulling the other closer, leaning into each other, slowing their movements to not leg go yet but take time to touch and deeply feel instead - wille's face speaks for itself. this hug is so intimate ugh.

it's finally shown a glimpse of wille's hand on simon's back! it was always there obv but it's nice to see it more properly.

wilhelm obsessing over simon's neck and simon who tilts his head back to make it more accessible. wille could've done it all and trace the path with kisses - simon wished - but the boy knew what he was doing!

the way simon looks up at him and wille rubs their noses back and forth, keeping his eyes on him, gives me butterflies.

they're super affectionate and it's the easiest thing for them to do. the intimacy that comes with their whispering, their own personal space becoming one for both of them to share bc it's safer, warmer, a lot more comfortable. everything is such a manifesto of how much they genuinely adore each other - it's what makes this the it scene for me.

their bottom lips touching are sooo *internally screaming*.

wilhelm stands still to let simon's lips brush past his own and simon's cheek resting against wille's lips to enjoy the feeling a little longer. they look so peaceful.

it happens after wille's "i like listening to you sing": they went from "he likes it when i sing" / "i do too, don't i?" (locker room's fight in s2) to wilhelm actually telling him that listening to his voice is one of the main reasons he joined the choir. it has to be extremely special for simon to finally hear it.

idk if it's just my mind making this up but let's pretend simon is kissing wille's neck here!

wilhelm picking simon up by the waist to carry him elsewhere and keep the thing going more privately. that's my wille.

can you believe this is the face of someone who's saying that he needs to go? to not miss the bus? he just looks crazy in love to me.

wille's laugh is cute! and simon throwing his stuff on the floor bc the priority was to push his boyfriend against the lockers to make out will never not be funny.

also, @allthefakepeople once said the only thing that could've made this scene even more perfect is if simon paused when walking away and ran back to wille to steal a quick goodbye kiss - ahhh i'd have been so here for it!

#sorry not sorry for rambling #this scene deserves all the praise #young royals #young royals analysis #yr s3 #choir practice scene #wilhelm x simon #wilmon

784 notes · View notes

inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!, Could you do a Hannibal x reader fic where Hannibal is the obsessed teacher, until one day they went beyond just looking at each other and he asked him to stay after class to talk about "things", they talk for a while, until Hannibal ask if she have a bf or something, he get up and tell her that also notices how she looks him... (Can it also end with smut? If you're comfortable whit) And Hannibal could also be a little annoying? like he know she needs him then he feels good whit.

(I'm not proud of this but... I need it)

And my apologies my english isn't great

a/n: i think we all need it if we're being honest

Hannibal X Reader: Teachers Pet

Warnings: smut, teacher!Hannibal x Student! reader, penetration (p in v), Hannibal being a tease, domish Hannibal, pet names (pretty girl), dirty talk, liking older men, age gap (no specified), no use of y/n

Word count: 1,4K

Someone is talking but he isn’t looking at them. He’s looking at you. Actually he is always looking at you. It doesn't matter if someone else asked him a question or if he's lecturing, his eyes are always on you. You don’t mind it. Actually you enjoy it quite a bit because your eyes are always on him too. Maybe it's wrong to want him like this but you really can’t get yourself to care. It's not like you're actively doing something to fulfill your little fantasy. They are just meaningless glances, nothing more.

Except that they weren’t and you both knew it.

Months of stolen glances and lingering touches. Hannibal can’t take it anymore. He’ll go insane if he doesn't have you. So he asked you to stay after class. He used some excuse about your last paper, saying he wanted to talk to you about your grades and whatnot. It was a lie of course and you could tell.

“Is something wrong professor?’

You’re acting innocent, trying to figure out how far he’d willing to go with this charade.

“I wanted to talk about your grades. I’ve noticed they’ve been slipping recently. Did something happen recently?”

He pauses his eyes peeking up at you through his glasses.

“A new boyfriend distracting you from your studies perhaps?”

“No. No boyfriend.”

Hannibal hums, his eyes moving to glance at the papers on his desk. You place your palms on the edge of the table leaning forward so that you could look at the papers too.

“You’re a good student. What happened?”

“Well you could say something has been distracting me lately.”

Hannibal lifts his gaze, his eyes catching on your chest. The blouse you’re wearing isn't doing much to hide the bra you're wearing, the whitline of it is clear through the almost sheer fabric of your shirt.

“But not a boyfriend?”

You shake your head no your eyes looking at Hannibal innocently. It's a fake expression of course. You knew exactly what you were doing.

“In all honesty, professor , I shouldn't even be looking at him but I can't help it. He is very handsome.”

Hannibal's eyebrow quirk up.

“It's that so?”

“Uhum. He’s a little older too. I’ve always had a thing for older guys.”

“Have you told him?”

“No but he knows. I caught him looking at me too.”

There it is. The opening Hannibal was looking for. He gets up from his seat taking off his glasses and placing them on the desk before moving to where you are. You turn around your ass coming into contact with the desk behind you as Hannibal moves close to you. You tilt your head to look up at him. He still hasn’t touched you but you're practically buzzing with desire.

“You can’t blame him. You’re a very pretty girl.”

Hannibal's hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb moving over your lips. You open your mouth to him, taking his digits in between your lips. Hannibal bits his lips as you suck on his thumb, the sight enough to make his pants tighten. You release his thumb with a ‘pop’.

“I need you, professor.”

Hannibal let out a groan, his body launching forward. His lips move roughly against yours. He plunges his tongue into your mouth and you let him a whine leaving your lips. His hands move to grope your ass. You cling to his shirt as he lifts your body onto the desk. His body sloths against your with ease, his dick rubbing against your clothed cunt as he moves. You moan for him, your hands moving to unbutton your blouse. Hannibal stares at your chest, eyes widening as your bra is finally revealed to him. Before you can even react he’s tugging the bra down, his lips wrapping around your left breast. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you frantically buck up into him. Hannibal's hand moved to your waist forcing your hips to stop moving.

“Patience. You’ll get what you want soon.”

“Please Hannibal. I need you so bad.”

“Show me.”

You lift your hips, removing your underwear. You dip your hands into your pussy collecting the witness that's gathered there. You lift your hand up to Hannibal showing him your juices. He hums pleasantly at the sight, his pants growing tighter. He moved forward engulfing your digits with his mouth. Your mouth opens in shock as you watch him lick your fingers clean. All of his self control seems to leave him, the need to feel you wrapped around him getting to his mind. He moves away from you fingers moving to remove his belt and pull down his zipper. You lean forward on his desk watching him. Hannibal senses your gaze on him, his hands pausing for a moment. He makes his way back to you, guiding your hand to his boxers. You gasp as you feel the outline of his dick against your palm.

“Take it out for me, pretty girl.”

You do as he asks your hands moving inside his boxers to free his dick from his confines. You gasp as you feel the weight of his dick in your hand. He was larger than you had expected. You give him a stroke, your thumb moving over his head, collecting the pre cum there. Hannibal's watches you guide your thumb to your mouth, licking the pre cum off it with a smile.

That was his breaking point.

You squeal as Hannibal drags you off the desk, your ass squeaking against the wood at the rough movement. He turns you around, his hand moving to push you against his desk. Your nails dig into the desk as he begins to enter you. A moan threatens to spill from your lips but Hannibal shushes you.

“Gotta be quiet. You don’t want anyone to hear us right?”

You clench around his dick at the thought of getting caught making him smile.

“Dirty thing.”

Before you can manage a smart remark Hannibal plunges his dick into you causing your voice to leave you. Your bare breasts rub against the desk beneath you as Hannibal roughly snapped his hips into you. You want to scream but you know you can’t so instead you bite into your hand. Hannibal’s moving so fast against you you're surprised the desk hasn’t moved from its spot.

“Professor I'm close…”

His movements slowed causing you to let out an annoyed grunt.

“Why did you stop?”

Hannibal pulled out of your turning your body so that you were facing him. You look up at him eagerly. His fingers cup your cheek roughly.

“You wanna cum is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Beg for it then.”

“Please make me cum Hannibal. Please, I need it so bad!”

“Lay down on the desk and spread your legs. Wanna see that pretty face as you cum.”

You move quickly, hopping onto the desk and laying down. You place your feet against the edge of the desk giving a clear view of your folds.

“Look at that. Just begging to be fucked aren’t you?”

You nod eagerly at him.

“Use your words.”

“Yes professor. Please fuck me.”

He moved forwards entering you again. Despite his desire to tease you Hannibal couldn’t hold on for much longer. His hips move roughly against you pistoling into your pussy at a brutal pace. All you can do is lie there and take it, the pleasure is too much to cope with. You barely register your orgasm until Hannibal spills his seed into you, his fingers digging into your thighs as he lets your cunt milk him.

He pulls out of you with a grunt, his hands moving to stuff his soft dick back into his pants. You continue to lay on the desk, far too tired to move. Hannibal makes his way to you tugging your body up. You let him carry you down. Your feet hit the floor, legs wobbling a bit as you try to stand. Hannibal pulled your bra back to its original position before his hands moved to button your shirt. You stare up at him, trying to regain full control of your mind. He places his hands on your cheek smiling at you. You give him a tired grin. You watch him move over to where you threw your underwear. He grabbed it, showing it to you before putting it into his back pocket.

“A small souvenir. I’ll return it to you next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yes next time. Now get out of here, I have things to do.”

You make your way to the door feeling Hannibal's cum drip down your thighs as you make your way to your car.

399 notes · View notes

cobaltperun · 1 month ago

Text

The Catalyst (3) - Monster

WandaNat x Female Reader

Chapter summary: The tensions keep rising and the first actual danger makes you act in a way you didn't think you ever would act again.

Spotify Playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word Count: 4.5k

-I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin I must confess that I feel like a monster-

Seething, you headed for the lab where Banner and Stark were working on finding the Cube, still very much affected by what Loki did to Natasha. And it annoyed you. It proved a fact you’ve been trying to ignore ever since you saw her for the first time in three years. That, as angry as you were, you still cared and you didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

“L/N,” you saw her and Thor coming from the other hall, heading in the same direction as you were. Bringing Thor with her was smart, Loki wanted to turn Banner against you and if he succeeded you’d need someone as strong as Thor.

Words ‘are you okay’ got stuck in your throat and you just nodded, refusing to meet her eyes. You weren’t even sure she knew you’ve seen what happened. Fury knew, but that never meant everyone else involved knew. But no, she wasn’t okay, she was distraught, no matter how well she was hiding it.

In the end the decision was made for you. Even if you wanted to tell her anything you were already close enough to the lab to hear the guys arguing.

You went in, followed by Natasha and Thor, only to be met with the sight you frankly should have expected. A high-tech weapon, a firearm somewhat resembling a shotgun, right there on the table. You shouldn’t have been surprised, this was S.H.I.E.L.D. after all, the same people who developed mutant depowering serum, then strengthened it, made it last longer and finally turned that into gas and went after the X-Men. Now only a handful of the team remained, and they were scattered, spending their days in hiding. Perhaps you would have been one of the targets if you didn’t already leave the organization. That was a question you refused to entertain, you had enough gripes with S.H.I.E.L.D. as it was, you didn’t need those what ifs.

“Did you know about this?” Banner asked Natasha as you looked at Fury. He was dangerous, willing to do anything if he believed it was necessary.

“You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?” Natasha suggested, setting her priorities straight, Banner could not lose control.

Banner laughed in disbelief. “I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed,” he reminded her, hints of his anger slipping through the cracks of his composure and putting damn near everyone on edge.

“Loki’s manipulating you,” Natasha warned him, tried to make him see reason and you were reminded of her conversation with Loki, how he got under her skin. Banner, with his fears and insecurities, was an easy target, one Loki didn’t even need to directly speak to.

“And you’ve been doing what exactly?” he challenged her, seeing right through her and Fury’s manipulations.

Against all the logic of self-perseverance you spoke up. “Fair point,” you had to agree, and you saw her hand twitch ever so slightly. Normally you weren’t all that eager to raise the tensions, but you couldn’t help yourself. You just spoke without thinking it through first.

Natasha ignored your quip and instead focused solely on Banner and deescalating the situation. “You didn’t come here because I bat my eyelashes at you.”

“Yes, and I’m not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy,” he then turned the screen and pointed at the schematics for missiles. “I’d like to know why S.H.I.E.L.D. is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction.”

Everything became silent for a few moments, before Fury relented. “Because of him,” he said while pointed at Thor.

“Me?” you could hear confusion in Thor’s voice, hell, there was even a hint of hurt there.

“Last year Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, out-gunned,” Fury argued his case, and you’ve read the reports, you’ve seen from a relative distance what Hulk fighting that other monster looked like. As it was, S.H.I.E.L.D. was truly hilariously out-gunned.

“My people want nothing but peace with your planet,” Thor stated confidently.

You laughed at that, catching the man’s attention. “I’m sorry, isn’t one of your people the reason why we’re all here?”

Thor opened his mouth to respond, but Fury spoke up before Thor could utter a single word. “And, you’re not the only threat. The world’s filling up with people who can’t be matched, they can’t be controlled,” the fact that you actually sort of fueled Fury’s argument made you want to take it back.

You turned to glare and pointed your finger at Fury. “Oh, don’t you go playing a saint here, not when you turn on your own people,” you accused him.

“Controlled? You mean like you controlled the cube?” Rogers demanded fiercely, angered by the reckless actions Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. took.

“Yeah, that’s his M.O., he tries to control people and when they don’t let him, he turns on them. How long until you turn on your precious Avengers? Hm?” you asked, getting in Fury’s face, you could see a spark of anger in his eye, which only made you angrier that he even felt like he had the right to get angry.

“You are making this personal, agent L/N, it’s clouding your judgment,” you had to admit he had balls to say that when you could turn him into a pile of ash.

“You leave her to die, and you expect her to fight for you? I’m a narcissist, but you developed a brand new level of entitled,” Stark walked up to you and shoved a bag between you and Fury. “Blueberries?” he offered so casually you almost forgot about how serious this situation was.

It was like Stark’s whole demeanor brought at least a hint of clarity to your mind, reminding you that fighting Fury just wasn’t worth it. But then there was Stark. You observed him for a moment before taking a few. “Thanks,” at the end of the day there was no harm in the slight distraction. And come on, you were offered blueberries.

“I expect all of you to fight for this world!” Fury declared and you could tell he was getting frustrated over all of this. The team he was trying to gather was falling apart right in front of his eyes.

“But only under your terms,” you countered and when Stark offered you more blueberries you went and took them. “You don’t want a team, you want puppets to do your bidding,” at least the blueberries were good.

“This is bigger than all of your individual egos and grudges,” Natasha joined in, recognizing that Fury was losing his patience.

And you suddenly got a foul taste in your mouth that not even the blueberries could fix and what little clarity you regained was once more enveloped in fog of reckless anger. Of all the people to throw that at you it had to be her. “Yeah, you just keep on following orders,” you snapped at her and watched as she opened her mouth and then changed her mind, choosing to instead just look away.

“You brought this on yourselves. Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It is the signal to all the realms that the Earth is ready for a higher form of war,” Thor tried to focus the conversation back on what was important.

“A higher form?!” Rogers demanded, alarmed at the idea. And he wasn’t even around to see the worst of what the Second World War brought.

“Sure, that’s exactly how war works. They’ll wait for us to get ready,” Natasha countered sarcastically and took a few steps back, trying to remove herself from the arguments, especially if it meant arguing with you even more.

Fury turned to Thor in disbelief. “You forced our hand! We had to come up with some-“

“Nuclear deterrent! ’Cause that always calms everything right down,” Stark was having none of it and was more than eager to call Fury out on his bullshit excuses.

“Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?” somewhere deep down you had to admit you were enjoying watching Fury have a meltdown as he turned his full attention toward Stark. Even if the meltdown wasn’t nearly as dramatic as you hoped it would be.

“At least he was open about it,” you countered. You’ve kept up with the news, you knew Stark shut down weapon manufacturing and turned his attention elsewhere. And you respected that, but more importantly you were really pissed at Fury for making a jab at something Stark once did when Fury himself had plenty of things to own up to.

“I’m sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep-“ Rogers argued back with a hell of a low blow.

“Wait- Wait! Hold on! How is this now about me?” Stark had no intention of backing down, especially when it was clear Fury was diverting the attention away from his own bullshit.

“I’m sorry, isn’t everything?” and Rogers, like the model soldier that he was, was unknowingly doing exactly what Fury wanted.

“This wasn’t until you brought it up,” you turned away, very tempted to leave. Not just this conversation, but helicarrier in general. Loki was captured, as far as you were concerned the job was completed.

“I thought humans were more evolved than this,” oh, that was rich coming from a guy most humans considered a myth and some still worshiped to this day. The same guy that less than a minute ago talked about the Earth sending a signal that it was ready for higher forms of war.

“Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?” Fury, who had clearly given up on using Stark as a decoy to take the heat, turned to Thor yet again.

Thor seemed disgusted. “You treat your champions with such mistrust,” he nearly spat.

“You’re not my champions!” Fury exclaimed, and though everyone was standing around it felt like even the slightest push might cause a fight.

“For once we agree. I am not his champion,” you actually felt a tiny bit sick for agreeing with Fury in any way.

“Are you going to argue with everyone here?” Rogers asked you and you could see his confusion over all of this. Your reaction, your anger, it confused him, and you weren’t even going to consider explaining yourself to him.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” you shrugged at this point just going along with the chaos. It was frustrating, but it also kind of felt good to let it all out.

“And you should! Let the woman talk, she has more gripes with the super spies than any of us do,” Stark took your side, and you looked at him, not quite sure how to read him just yet. “Also, hasn’t argued with me or Banner yet,” he pointed out matter-of-factly.

“I’ve still got time,” you were actually joking. So far you had no reason to argue with Stark or Banner.

“Bring it,” Stark offered you more blueberries and well, you just took another handful.

“And lose blueberry privilege? No thanks,” you popped the blueberries into your mouth and honestly considered getting a bag or two, or five, after this was over.

“Knew you were smart,” he tapped you on the shoulder with the back of his hand.

“Can you two focus for once or does everything have to be about you?” Rogers demanded in disbelief.

You swallowed and then let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh no, the world is ending because we ate blueberries instead of losing our minds,” you rolled your eyes and Rogers just stared at you, speechless.

But none of this was a conversation anymore, it was just a group of people yelling at one another over one thing or another. You weren’t getting anywhere like this, and chances were things wouldn’t get better anytime soon.

“You speak of control, yet you court chaos!” Thor accused Fury, and for what it was worth it, you agreed.

“It’s his M.O., isn’t it? I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no. We’re a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We’re a time bomb,” Banner caught Fury’s attention after a while and it was like Banner’s presence in the conversation shut down any other arguments as all the attention turned to him.

“You need to step away,” Fury warned him, realizing that whatever this argument brought, it could, under no circumstance make Banner angry, or there would be consequences.

“Why shouldn’t the guy let off a little steam?” Stark asked curiously as he placed his hand on Rogers’ shoulder.

“You know damn well why! Back off!” Rogers pushed his hand away and glared at him.

“Oh, I’m starting to want you to make me,” and Stark was back at it again with Rogers. It was the clash of the opposites in every way imaginable. Red against blue, armor against whatever Rogers was wearing, and the clash of their ideals was even more apparent.

Rogers circled around Stark and glared at him. “Yeah, big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?” there was even some contempt in Rogers’ voice.

And Stark didn’t immediately glare back, he wasn’t even looking at Rogers. “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist,” he only looked at Rogers by the end of the sentence.

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I’ve seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself,” scratch contempt, this was disdain, he looked at Stark and reached his conclusion about the man. And it wasn’t a positive one. “You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you,” and Rogers was completely sure of that.

“I think I would just cut the wire.” Stark shrugged, seeing no reason to be so dramatic if there was another way to solve the problem.

“Sacrifice play, how noble,” you scoffed, sick and tired of those ideas. Rogers already sacrificed himself once, nearly losing his life. In a way losing his life, since he woke up in an entirely different world. Yet he haven’t had enough, he was ready to do it all over again. Noble, but stupid ideal, as far as you were concerned.

“Always a way out. You were an agent, you accepted the risks,” Rogers turned to you, disappointed for whatever reason.

“Yeah, is that what I did? You know me so well, Rogers,” you mocked. There was a difference between the two of you. He chose to sacrifice himself; you were left to die an unnecessary death.

“You know, the two of you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be heroes,” he warned you and Stark, which was kind of funny to you because you certainly never even thought of yourself as a hero.

“A hero? Like you? You’re a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle,” yeah, there was definitely something a lot deeper underneath those words, but you had neither the information nor the will to dig into it.

“Put on the suit, let’s go a few rounds,” Rogers challenged, finally saying the words that were probably on his mind since Stark chose to go after Thor and Loki on his own.

“What, super soldier serum didn’t boost your brain?” you smirked a bit, taunting Rogers for pretty much losing the argument.

“You people are so petty, and tiny,” Thor scolded you all like that would do anything.

“Yeah, this is a team,” you looked down to see if the sarcasm dripping from Banner’s voice was causing a flood.

“Agent Romanoff, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his-“ Fury began but Banner cut him off.

“Where? You rented my room!” he reminded him and you all suddenly stopped arguing, focusing entirely on Banner. He was getting angry and that was making some of you nervous.

“The cell was just-“ Fury tried to calm him down but there was no going back now.

“In case you needed to kill me, but you can’t. I know. I tried!” if the arguments didn’t stop before now they were absolutely done for as you all listened to him. “I got low. I didn’t see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out. So, I moved on, I focused on helping other people. I was good,” he lamented over the stable environment he had. “Until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk,” he turned to Natasha and despite all the anger, despite all the things she did, you still got worried. “You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?” he asked

You moved closer to Banner and reached up for your glaive, ready just in case. Natasha and Fury reached for their guns.

“Doctor Banner, put down the scepter,” Rogers told him, and Banner looked down to his left, confused and surprised to see the scepter in his hand.

Suddenly there was a beeping sound coming from one of the monitors and you looked back, seeing that the Tesseract was found. You let out a sigh of relief, it was finally over. Well, not quite because Thor still argued about where the Tesseract should be taken and Stark and Rogers were once again arguing. But then it happened, an explosion caught you all by surprise and sent you flying to the back of the lab while everyone else scattered. Stark and Rogers ended up near the entrance, Fury and Thor fell behind a table and from what you saw when the explosion happened Natasha and Banner dropped down to the equipment room.

You turned onto your back and stared at the ceiling. You were going to let them handle whatever that was on their own. Rogers was right, you weren’t a hero. You never were, and you weren’t about to start acting like one.

~X~

The explosion took her by surprise and now she was paying the price for her carelessness. A large steel pipe pinned her leg down and if it wasn’t for her super soldier serum her leg probably would have been broken. Natasha still groaned, the pain wasn’t the worst, but it was definitely there. She looked above her, toward the hole her and Banner fell through and wondered what happened to you. It was an explosion, and though it was a strong one it probably wouldn’t affect you much. She was still worried, she just couldn’t help herself, even if it truly seemed like it was too late for those sentiments.

It was kind of ironic. The last time you were on a mission together your positions were reversed, with you falling and getting hurt, only your injury could have been fatal. For her this would be a temporary annoyance some pain killers would handle. But it was dark, and she was hurt, and Banner was close to her, and she thought that you must have felt something like this back then as well. Only much worse because you were dying and she left you there.

“Romanoff!” she heard Fury’s voice over the earpiece and tried to pull her leg free. She still couldn’t do it, but she was getting there. What worried her was Banner; he didn’t seem like he was fine.

“Okay!” she replied to Fury, not even sure if she was telling the truth. Banner probably landed hard and was now in pain, which definitely wasn’t good for her. She watched him closely, noticing his eyes turning green and his face twisting in rage and desperation. “We’re okay, right?” she whispered fearfully.

Banner’s body seemed to be changing bit by bit and that sent panic through Natasha’s body as she struggled harder to pull her leg from underneath the pipe. He was groaning, clenching his fists like he was trying to suppress the Hulk, but it was all too much. Being pulled away from somewhere he felt relatively safe, pulled right back into this crisis, manipulated, and now in pain, it was a miracle he didn’t snap much sooner. But she still hoped she could calm him down. “Doctor? Bruce?” she tried to call out to him, to establish at least some slight connection between them by calling him by his name. “You gotta fight it. This is just what Loki wants. We’re gonna be okay,” she tried to assure him. “Listen to me,” she had to get him to listen.

She heard footsteps and she cursed internally. Regular agents would be torn apart if Banner transformed. “You hurt?” one of them asked her and she quickly waved them away. The further from all of this they were, the better.

“We’re gonna be okay. Right? I swear on my life I will get you out of this, you will walk away, and never ever-“ she tried her best, her voice shook from pain and fear and pure panic, and all she thought about was that she didn’t even get to try and save Clint, and that she never even tried to apologize to you for what she did. And now, with Banner about to transform there was a good chance she’d never get the chance to do either of these two things.

“Your life?” he growls, mocking her oath bitterly and she couldn’t blame him. Not after everything. Understanding him didn’t help her one bit though, not when she saw him transforming. She watched in utter horror as he grew larger, his shirt tearing as he did his best to get as far from her as possible. He did not want to hurt her, but there was no way to keep her safe here.

The lights went out for a moment and she fearfully called out to him again. “Bruce?” some of the lights flickered back on just enough for her to see her nightmare became a reality. She was no longer looking at Bruce Banner, but rather at the Hulk. The desperation made her pull her leg out from underneath the pipe just as the Hulk looked at her. Their eyes met just for a moment, and she saw exactly what his intentions were. He was going to hurt her.

He was going to make her pay for manipulating him. For bringing him here. For being close to him in this very moment. And she ran as fast as she could, hoping to somehow escape him as he roared.

~X~

You still didn’t get up. You weren’t going to. As far as you were concerned if the helicarrier fell, then let it fall. This was probably Clint’s doing, but you weren’t eager to go after him either. You could do it for Natasha, but that felt like a rather unnecessary thing to do. Suddenly, you heard a roar, and it wasn’t human, it wasn’t even a beastly roar, it was something much, much different from either of those two and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Natasha!” you gasped, realizing that the roar came from the Hulk, and that she was beneath you with him.

It was pure instinct that drove you, caused by the good times you spent together, caused by the idea that, as angry at her as you were you didn’t want her dead. The idea of Natasha being killed by the Hulk terrified you as you burst into flames and the ribbons of fire and lightning attached themselves to your wrists. They were long, nearly ten feet long in fact, and they flowed behind you as you jumped down the hole to where Natasha fell.

You landed easily once you slowed your fall down with some fire bursting from your feet. You looked around, noticing the destruction all around you. The Hulk wrecked the place, that much was clear but there was no Natasha in sight, so hoping she was still alive, you rushed after the Hulk and listened for more roars, which were luckily happening quite often. You jumped onto the pipes and ran, hoping you would spot Natasha easier if you were a bit higher from the ground.

You heard the sound of running and went in that direction just in time to see the Hulk running through everything like it wasn’t even there. He didn’t slow down even after he ran through some steel pipes. And Natasha was right in front of him, running for her life with him coming closer and closer with every second.

You didn’t even consider staying out of this, just fleeing and making sure you were safe. You just moved. You jumped from the pipe, enhancing your speed with lightning and sent a powerful lightning strike right at the back of his head. The Hulk stopped for a moment, roaring in anger at you slowing him down. But that was just enough time to zap right past him and grab Natasha and get her off the narrow walkway and into a wider area where you could both maneuver more easily.

“Why the- Y/N why would you do that?” she gasped and leaned back against the wall. You noticed her legs were shaking.

You ignored her as the Hulk roared at you. You didn’t think, you didn’t panic, you knew if you made one mistake you’d be killed. The only way out was to try and buy enough time for someone else to jump in and help you. “Let’s see if I can actually fry your brain,” you got ready as the Hulk lunged at you.

The time seemed to slow down as you realized just how much you fucked up with this choice. What were you thinking? Putting yourself in the Hulk’s path? The truth was you didn’t think. You just knew Natasha was in danger and that was all you needed to know to act.

“NO!” Natasha cried out, but before the Hulk could reach you, or before you could even do anything, Thor flew right into the Hulk and sent him through multiple walls.

You took a few steps back, knowing full well this would have been your end if it wasn’t for Thor. You were a mutant, with highly destructive powers, but the Hulk was the Hulk, and there was no way for you to come out on top. And most importantly, this wasn’t the place where you could go all out, especially with Natasha this close to you.

“Y/N,” Natasha’s shaky voice brought you out of your thoughts and you turned to look at her, not yet sure of what would come out of this situation.

A/N: And that's the third chapter. I think I'll be done with The Avengers part of the story in the next chapter or two, depending on how much detail I put into the fight scenes. Either way I'm happy with how this story is going and thank you all for the support! Also... I need Wanda to show up already. All the good things I have planned need her to be here as well 🤣🤣🤣

Taglist: @toxicitytiger @wandaromamoff69 @womenarehotsstuff @psychickryptonitebouquet @seventeen-x @maddsdotorg @arualdcg @ilovemybabygirlmoon @redroomgraduate @canyonyodeler

Masterlist / First Part / Previous Part / Next Part

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #x reader #x female reader

137 notes · View notes

yumecel · 6 months ago

Text

Attitude Adjustment

💞 yandere/dark![zhongli, wriothesley, dottore, pantalone, yae] / f!reader | headcanon list

summary: how do some dark!genshin characters react when they think you’ve given them enough attitude?

tws: dead dove. there’s definitely traces of my misogyny kink in this shit my bad. humiliation, infantilisation, public humiliation. yandere, again humiliation, degradation

a/n: uueuagghugh. euieuegah. hahaurgh.

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know this will haunt me in the world to come should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

Zhongli

- You cannot tell me this man doesn’t just straight up spank you

- Wouldn’t dare to do it in public modern-day Liyue though, but you’d know exactly what’s waiting for you once you get home when you look into his eyes

- For the meantime, he’s all whispered reminders, gentle, then a little firmer, then authoritative

- I imagine older Zhongli is quite lenient with disrespect, simply tells you how unbecoming it is to act like this, that he’s more than willing to listen to your concerns if you use your adult words…

- As for a younger Morax, he. Well. He kinda just goes for it. He’d lean over with a gaze so penetrating you couldn’t dare to make eye contact, and ask politely, restrained, for an apology

- If you didn’t give it, it wouldn’t matter who you were in front of, he doesn’t find it remotely funny, he doesn’t care- anyone who previously witnessed your disrespect towards him would also witness how he was a man that was unafraid to keep his wife under control.

- You’d be over his lap before you could process what was happening, begging for his mercy with words that spill out involuntarily with every smack searing against your rear

- And he’d probably find a corner for you to stand in too, nose to the wall, bare ass to the room. Good luck making eye contact with anyone else in the room after that experience.

Wriothesley

- He’s pretty communicative, so you get a lot of chances. And a lot of warnings.

- He’s happy that you can resolve things easily most of the time. Ever the reasonable man. But when you don’t, or when you push him on a day where he just wants to sit back and relax with his beloved, well….

- Also a little inclined for a traditional over-the-knee spanking, but really, testing a guy with access to a variation of prison equipment is like a lucky dip where every prize is humiliating and/or painful

- He can use restraints so intense you have to beg him to accommodate all of your needs, all the while he asks “And what do you say?”, making you mutter out defeated thank-yous

- He can switch out all your clothes just as easily, keep you entirely in the nude in his office as you earn it back piece by piece

- The mere threat of revealing a little too much about your situation to the prisoners often works

- Do you really want everyone to know you’re his bitch? Forget keeping things to the bedroom, he’ll fuck you over his office desk and not stop until the entire fortress hears you screaming his name

- Or at least, that’s what he says. And he is a firm believer in the idea that good dick is a good attitude adjustment. There’s something about begging to cum that really quells your snippy remarks!

Dottore

- First off, you’re insane for even trying anything

- You actually have to hope here that he just gets a little turned on and not irritated enough to perform inhumane experiments on you that will permanently destroy your ability to give him any attitude (he may also be a little turned on during this.)

- He definitely has the means to make a 1:1 replica of his dick and gag you with it whilst he gets on with some work. Just confined to choking and drooling as he hums to himself like you’re actually saying anything meaningful

- And honestly, Dottore would really appreciate a bitchsuit. If you don’t know what that is, it’s basically a bondage suit that confines you to all-fours, walking on elbows and knees. That and a shock collar. Act like a bitch, be treated like…

- Would laugh a little as he watches you struggle to move from place to place. There’s something a little cute about it; you, so small and insignificant that you’re crawling on the floor at the whims of your master, reduced to less than nothing

- Probably makes you lick his boots clean in that state to “prove” you do actually respect him

- Don’t invoke this side of him too often. He might end up getting the idea that he can train you to perfection using well placed electrodes and vibrators…

Pantalone

- When he stops calling you ungrateful and goes dead silent, that’s when you know you well and truly messed up

- There would likely be a huge amount of control he exerts over you in the first place, you’re his doll, his plaything, his dearest treasure

- He has some business connections that wouldn’t bat an eye to the sight of you on your knees in front of him, mouth slowly wrapping around his cock as his hand presses against the back of your head

- Dignity is truly a privilege around him. And he’s kind enough to keep you fully clothed around these unsavoury people. Fail to repay him and he will start counting up the debts

- With the threat of something greater, with the threat of something like a permanent collar or being sent to Dottore or Sandrone, you’ll find yourself doing whatever he says.

- So if he tells you to stop covering yourself and sit on top of his desk, spreading and rubbing your pretty pussy for his esteemed guests, you’ll do it.

- If he tells you to edge yourself throughout the whole thing, you will do it. If he wants you to speak only in barks for the rest of the day, you will do it. If he wants you in a certain position, you’ll hold it for as long as he wants. If he wants you on a leash, crawling alongside him on your hands and knees, you will endure the aches.

- You’ll kiss the ground he walks on before you disrespect him again. Show some reverence for the man that gives you everything.

Yae Miko

- This woman has an expertise in all manners of humiliation and degradation

- And she’s usually very tolerant of the banter that takes place between you two. But that doesn’t apply to absolutely everything

- Present yourself as difficult and she’ll simply say “Oh? Is that how you really feel?” with a devious grin on her face

- To be honest, she looks forward to times like these. No holds barred.

- She has a lot of choices. Could she put you in something revealing and make you promote Yae Publishing House’s next book signing? You’d look adorable in a pair of pink fox ears and a tail plug, maybe a skimpy little shrine maiden costume

- Ah, but that’d be the repayment. She still has the actual punishment to consider.

- Probably invents some ancient transgression you’ve committed against her all so she can punish you “traditionally”

- This involves putting you in stocks outdoors paddling you thoroughly for being so terribly disrespectful in the presence of the Grand Narukami Shrine. This will, naturally, be in broad daylight. Just pray she doesn’t invite people to watch.

- A few days later, you’ll approach her quietly at the edge of the book signing, hoping the customers don’t notice too much of your reddened thighs and ass

- “Please, Miko, can you take out the plug? It’s starting to-“

- You’re interrupted as her hand dives under the costume, finding your clit easily with the lack of underwear. Her thumb circles it so gently, so lightly. You try to stand perfectly still but shake when two fingers dive inside your pussy, curling so quickly your knees start to buckle

- She pulls them out, spreading them so you can see the humiliating amount of slick. “Are you sure you’re not enjoying this?”

- Holding her fingers up to your mouth, you obediently lick your juices off her fingers.

- As she wipes off any residue on your thigh, you remain quiet.

- “Back to work now. You still have two more hours.”

- You try to check your inner thighs for any signs of this encounter, but the way she grabs your wrist tells you that you’re not allowed.

- You turn your back on her and return to the signing, but not before she gropes your abused rear

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere wriothesley #yandere zhongli #yandere dottore #yandere pantalone #yandere yae miko

194 notes · View notes

cressidagrey · 6 months ago

Text

You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 7 (The End)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining.

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation

Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something) Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)

"Did you really throw Lewis of your Christmas Cookie list after Silverstone 2021?!" Max asked Ariel, his eyebrows climbing into his hairline after reading that particular text message.

Ariel didn't even bother looking up from her breakfast, as she was scrolling through her own phone.

"Yep," she said, popping the p. "I crossed him off my Christmas cookie list for two years. No cookies for Lewis."

Max looked at her, his expression a mix of amusement and bewilderment. "Two years?" he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

If she had thrown Lewis of her christmas cookie list for two years, there was no chance that Lando was getting any cookies this year. "That seems a bit harsh, don't you think?" he said carefully, but Ariel just shrugge.

“I am very aware that your job has its dangers,” Ariel said drily. “This wasn’t about what happened on track. I was making a point.”

Max’s lips curving upwards slightly at her words. "What point were you trying to make, schatje?" he asked, a hint of mirth peeking through his nonchalant tone.

Ariel finally looked up from her phone, bluish-green eyes that never could quite decide which colour they wanted to be, mustering him. Her expression serious. "The point was about respect. You could have died. You battled severe vision problems for the rest of the season. And Mercedes was talking about it like it was a lesson you were finally being taught. Lewis wasn’t the only one on a cookie ban. Everybody at Mercedes was," Ariel said sharply. “Because their behaviour after that crash was completely unacceptable. I decided that a two year ban without my cookies was enough to drive that point home."

Max's amusement turned into a full-fledged smile at her explanation.

"So, Mercedes' team didn't get cookies for two years?" he asked, clearly trying not to laugh. Ariel arched an eyebrow, a defiant look in her eyes.

"Yes, exactly," Ariel replied. "No one from Mercedes received any Christmas cookies for two years. And let me tell you, Lewis was heartbroken."

Max couldn’t help but laugh then, the sound deep and rich. The image of Lewis' disappointed face, finding out he was on her ban list for two years, must have been a sight to behold.

"I bet he was," he said, his laughter slowly subsiding, even when he couldn’t help but smile at her.

This was Ariel in a nutshell. She had always, always been unapologetically in his corner. There had never once been a question about her loyalty. She may called him out on his bullshit, but she was just as willing to go to bat for him.

"You're ruthless when it comes to your cookies, you know that?" he told her with a smile.

She inclined her head. “I have my principles,” she said simply. "And those principles include doling out cookie-related punishments when necessary."

Max shook his head, completely smitten.

"Oh, I know very well how protective you are of your principles," he said with a hint of tenderness in his voice. "And I love that about you." Max leaned back in his chair, his expression becoming more serious.

"But I have to say, it's touching that you were so upset by what happened during the race that you decided to ban everyone at Mercedes from your cookie list. But two years is a long time without cookies, schatje."Ariel seemed unrepentant, her defiant side shining through in her expression. “You didn’t need to do that. I am tougher than I look,” he told her with some amusement.

"They were lucky it was only two years," she snorted, her voice holding a note of irritation. "I was thinking about a lifetime ban."

Max chuckled again, amused by her determination.

"Lifetime?" he repeated, the word hanging in the air. "You really didn't pull any punches, did you?" She just shrugged, just as her phone vibrated. "Any reason why Victoria is texting me to tell you to call your Mom`?" she asked drily, after a short look at her phone.

Max rolled his eyes, even as Ariel’s phone pinged again. And again.

"Lewis did apologise about the betting pool by the way," he informed her and Ariel just snorted.

"He is worried about getting blacklisted again," Ariel told him sagely, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll get my laptop," Ariel said softly as she stood, leaning down to drop a kiss against his hair and Max couldn't help himself but to pull her into a proper kiss. Max pulled her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist with ease.

When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. A smile played across his lips as he spoke.

"You know," he murmured, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier note. "I could get used to having you here. In my lap. Anytime." He didn't want this moment to end. He could feel her breath against his neck, her fingers tracing small circles on his shoulder.

He was about to pull her in for another kiss when her phone pinged again, breaking the blissful bubble of intimacy they had created. "Call you Mom," Ariel told him pointedly as she stood.

Max chuckled, reluctantly letting her go. "Spoilsport," he teased, but his eyes were full of affection.

He reluctantly picked up his own phone and dialled his Mom's number. His mother answered on the second ring.

"Maxie! You took your time to call," she scolded him immediately.

He had. Mostly because he had no idea what to say.

What was Max supposed to say?

He had won a race. He had finally figured things out with Ariel...

And he was quite sure that the next time he tried to talk to his father it wouldn't end well at all, because his father had laid his hands on Ariel. And that was simply unacceptable as far as Max was concerned.

He opened his mouth to respond but his mother continued, talking over him in her typical, motherly way. "Are you alright?" she asked abruptly, her voice filled with worry.

He wasn't about to lie to her. "I...I am getting there," he admitted, his voice rough. "Did you see..." his voice broke before he could bring out the words.

"Yes. I saw," his mother said darkly. "Everybody saw, Max. Sky kept a camera onto the whole...thing. I am so sorry," she apologised to him and he couldn't stand it. First Ariel apologised to him about what his father did, then Victoria and now his mother.

He couldn't stand it.

Max felt a sudden flare of anger as he thought about the cameras catching the whole scene at the garage, his father's behaviour on full display.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his thoughts.

"It's not your fault," he said quietly, his voice betraying his emotions. "You don't need to apologise for him."

His mother was quiet for a moment, her voice softer when she spoke again.

"I know. But you are my son and I..." she trailed off, seemingly lost for words.

Max could sense her struggle, her own emotions warring through the phone."I'll be fine," he reassured her, his own voice quivering slightly. He appreciated her concern, but he didn't want to add to her worry.

He forced a light tone into his voice, trying to sound more like himself. "I'm a big boy,” he assured her. He was quite sure that his mother din’t believe a word he sai.

"How is Ariel?" She asked him instead.

Max couldn't help the smile that tugged the corners of his lips. The mention of her name lifted some of the weight off his chest.

"She's...she's good," he said honestly. "She's handling everything better than I am, honestly."

He glanced over his shouler, back inside as they had ha breakfast outside on the balcony…and found Ariel with her laptop on her lap sitting on the couch. Her focus was intense, as usual, as she typed away.

"You two are good together," he heard his mother say, her voice gentle. "I always thought so. At least one good thing came out of this whole mess," she said with a chuckle. “Even when it took you the better part of a decade.

Max's lips lifted in a small smile at her words, his eyes still trained on Ariel, his girlfriend. His girlfriend.

He couldn’t quite believe it, but he adored every single moment of it.

An he agreed with his mother. Despite everything, things between him and Ariel had turned out for the better. She was here, in his room, as his girlfriend and he was glad for it.

He couldn’t imagine to going back to being just friends, to not be able to reach out an pull her into a kiss…to not hear every single soft noise that escaped her as he pressed his lips to hers…

"Yeah," Max agreed quietly. "One good thing, indeed.”

"Look after her," his mother said, her tone now taking on a more serious note. "I know you will. But take care of her. And yourself while you're at it."

Max felt a warm rush of gratitude wash over him. His mother's concern never failed to touch him, no matter how old he was.

"I will, Mom," he assured her, his voice softened by affection.

"...What will you do with your father?" she asked him curiously.

Max's smile faded at her question, his thoughts turning dark once again.

He had been avoiding thinking about his father, not wanting to deal with the complicated mix of anger and hurt he felt. But he knew he could not run from it eternally.

He took a deep breath, his voice quiet and rough. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I can't just...I can’t just let it go, Ma. Not this time. He laid his hands on her," he added, his voice filled with a burning anger that he couldn't suppress. The image of his father's hand connecting with Ariel’s soft face… it was making him utterly furious.

His fingers clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. "I can't just forgive that."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, a heavy pause that carried the weight of his words.

When his mother spoke again, her voice was gentle, "You don't have to forgive him, Max. No one will force you to."

"Vic can do whatever she wants, obviously," Max continued. "But I am done. I don't want him anywhere near Ariel. I don't want him anywhere near my family."

His mother was silent for a moment again and he knew she was just processing his words.

"You are serious," she said quietly, her voice holding a hint of awe. "You really mean it, don't you?"

"Yes," Max answered firmly, his voice sure and steady. "I've had enough, Ma. This...this was the last straw."

He closed his eyes, his stomach turning at the thought of his father's actions.

"He laid his hands on her. I can't ignore that. I won't."

His mother was quiet for a moment, digesting his words. He could practically feel her surprise. His relationship with his father had never been easy and she knew that from personal experience.

Finally she spoke again, her voice careful but firm. "And what if he doesn't take your decision well?"

Max couldn't help the weary sigh that escaped him. He knew his father well enough to know that this would probably turn into a shitstorm.

"I know he will get angry," he admitted, his voice low but unwavering. "He always does when I don't just do as he says. But...this time I don't care."

“He can talk to my lawyers,” he said drily. Though he probably woul owe them truly ridiculous amounts of money to deal with his father when all was said and done.

His mother chuckled lightly at his words, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I'm sure they will be looking forward to that," she said dryly.

Then she sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of years of dealing with her ex-husband. "He won't go down quietly. You know that, right?"

Max nodded grimly, his free hand clenching into a fist. "I know," he said, his voice heavy with the knowledge of how stubborn his father could be.

He had grown up with his father's temper tantrums and his endless list of demands. He knew all too well that his father would not accept his decision without a fight.

But Max was no longer the little boy who had to comply with his father's orders. He was a man, a fully grown adult, and he was determined to stand his ground, no matter what.

His voice was firm when he spoke again. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I’m done with letting him control my life. I won't back down ."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and Max could almost see his mother nodding, her face a mixture of worry and pride.

"You're stubborn like him," she said suddenly, the amused tone back in her voice.

Max smiled, a brief moment of levity in this dark conversation.

"You always were a determined little boy," his mother continued said, her voice filled with memories. "Even as a child, you never knew when to quit. I swear you're only getting more stubborn with age."

He couldn’t but chuckle quietly. His mother sighed.

"So you and Ariel," she changed the topic, trailing off leadingly. "Can I finally expect some grandchildren from you, then?"

Max almost barked out a laugh at the question. He was caught off guard by the sudden switch in conversation, but the subject wasn't an unwelcome one.

"Ma," he said, his voice tinged with both humor and incredulity. "One crisis at a time, please."

"It's a valid question," she said in response, her voice filled with feigned defensiveness. "I'm getting old over here."

Max rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his lips. "You're not THAT old," he teased.

His mother huffed at his words, amused but pretending to be offended. "I am old enough to be a grandmother, Max! I want to spoil some grandchildren before I'm too old to enjoy it."

Max chuckled, the lightheartedness of the conversation a welcome break from the heavy topics of their previous discussion.

"I'm not disagreeing with you," he said lightly. "But you're going to have to give me a little time. I just got her, you know."

His mother snorted at his words, her voice filled with a mother's knowing. "Oh, I know you well enough, Max Emilian," she said, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Trust me when I say, it won't take long for you to put a ring on her."

Max rolled his eyes again at her words, but he couldn't argue with her logic. "We'll see," he said, his voice trying for a nonchalant tone.

The truth was, his mind had already started wandering down that path of its own accord. But he wasn't going to admit that to his mother just yet.

"You keep telling yourself that, Max," his mother said with a laugh, her tone filled with maternal certainty. "In a few months, I will have another daughter."

Max chuckled at her words, the thought sending a jolt of excitement through his chest. The idea wasn’t as scary as it should have been.

"You are awfully sure of yourself," he teased, his voice tinged with amusement.

"I know my son," his mother said simply, the affection in her voice clear. "And I know how much you love that girl."

Max felt a lump in his throat at her words, the truth of her statement hitting him hard. He loved Ariel with all his heart, more than anything in the world. He couldn't deny that.

"Ma..." he began, his voice growing a little rougher.

"It's alright," she said gently, understanding the emotions behind his words. "You don't have to say anything. Just...take care of each other, yeah?"

Max nodded, his throat too tight to form words. He knew what she meant, the unspoken worry for the road ahead. But he was determined to face it together with Ariel.

"I will," he managed to speak, his voice filled with determination and love for her. "I promise."

"Good, Maxie," his mother said, the nickname making him feel like a child again. But he didn't mind. In his mother's eyes, he would always be her little boy.

She paused for a moment, then added, "I'm so proud of you, Max. You know that, right?"

Max felt a wave of emotion wash over him at her words. To hear his mother say that to him, in this difficult time, meant more to him than he could express.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice a mixture of gratitude and love. "Yeah, I know."

He felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. Despite everything that had happened, despite the storm on the horizon, he knew he had his mother's love and support. And he had Ariel. He was not alone.

His mother's voice was soft when she spoke again. "Go back to your girl now," she said, a hint of humor back in her tone. "She's probably wondering what's taking you so long."

Ariel’s email inbox was an absolute nightmare

She couldn't stand the sight of it anymore.

Between the concerned emails from friends, the offers of support from colleagues, and the endless messages from people she had never even interacted with, her inbox was a swirling mess of sympathy, curiosity, and unsolicited advice.

She hated it.

With a sigh, she shot off a message to her friend Madeleine, making some plans to see each other sometime before Christmas...something which hopefully would involve more than one strawberry daiquiri.

(God, she really could do with one right now.)

She also had no idea what to do with the sprawling apology that she was quite sure Lando had either asked ChatGPT or Oscar to help him write.

She wasn’t sure which was more likely and less weird.

(Ariel also wondered if it was only about her christmas cookies…but she was willing to cut some slack…maybe.)

Other than that...it was still a nightmare. Ariel started to copy paste her response to every single media inquiry, which was that she was very much fine and very much not interested in talking to any of the media outlets about what had happened between her and Jos Verstappen and also very much not pregnant.

The mere thought of having to talk to a horde of journalists, all eager for the next juicy story, was horrifying.

She wasn't one to seek the spotlight, and the fact that she was suddenly thrown into the center of it against her will made her feel both irritated and violated.

Leaning back against the sofa, she took a deep, calming breath.She hadn't even "started" with her phone though. That one was also a nightmare of seemingly every person in her life deciding to blow it up with numerous messages. Some of it was really quite sweet. Some of it definitively wasn't though.

The amount of people reaching out to her felt almost overwhelming. Her phone was inundated with text messages, calls, and voicemails, all filling up her notifications to an almost dizzying degree.

Some messages were nice, filled with warm wishes and support. But there were also those that were much less pleasant, asking questions that were far too intimate. Some even seemed downright judgemental.(...Ariel’s list of people that were going to get cookies this year was definitively dwindling down.)

At this point, it was difficult to tell who was genuinely concerned about her and who was just trying to squeeze some gossip out of her. She found herself growing increasingly frustrated with each new message she read, the constant barrage of questions and inquiries making her head spin.

With a weary sigh, she put her phone down and scrubbed a hand over her face, feeling utterly exhausted both mentally and physically.The whole experience felt oddly voyeuristic, like strangers were peering into the most private corners of her life, trying to satisfy their curiosity without any regard for her feelings.

And she didn’t even dare to look at her instagram…or on tiktok. Or on the website formerly known as twitter. Until she did and then clicked away again immediately.

Social media was a vast minefield of people throwing out comments that were anything but helpful. From armchair psychologists to self-proclaimed relationship experts, they seemed to know exactly what she should - and shouldn't - do.

"Hey."

She looked up to see Max join her on the couch, sitting next to her. He held out his arm for her and she pushed away her laptop to curl against him.

The one good thing that was coming out of this drama was their relationship.

"Hey," she greeted him softly. "Good talk with your Mom?" Max nodded, his arm wrapping around her body and pulling her close. The feeling of her body against her was pure comfort.

Ariel happily leaned against him with a sigh.

"Yeah, she just wanted to know how we're doing," he said, his expression a mix of weary and affectionate. "She worries. You know how mothers are."

She did. There didn't pass a day where Ariel didn't miss her own mother.

She leaned her head against his chest, taking in the solidity of his presence. His hand began to move in soothing, lazy circles on her back.

"This isn't some sort of fling to me," Max told her suddenly. She was so surprised by his sudden change of topic that she could just stare at him. "I would probably marry you tomorrow, given the opportunity. I wasted 5 years, I am not wasting anymore time."

She could just stare at him, her mouth suddenly dry at this look in his blue eyes. It was…decisive. There was no other word for it.

Max had mae up his mind.

An his words made Ariel’s heart flutter in her chest.

"Max..." she began, not certain of what to say.

Marriage wasn't something she had considered in the midst of all the drama. It had… well. It hadn’t crossed her mind. Not yet. Not while there were a thousand moving pieces all around them.

“I just want to be with you,” Max told her fiercely. “We don’t have to do anything right now, if you want to take it slow. That’s fine. Anything you want is okay. But I am serious about us.” Max said, emphasising each word slowly and clearly.

He was serious, completely serious. The raw honesty in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

"Max," Ariel said his name quietly, her voice thick with emotion. She searched his face, looking for even the slightest hint of doubt or uncertainty. But there was none. He was earnest, sincere, and utterly in love with her.

"I love you too," she whispered. "And I am serious about us too."

Max's eyes brightened at her words, his whole face lighting up with a smile. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her even closer into his embrace.

"You mean that?" he asked, his voice filled with a slight tremor of disbelief and hope.

"Of course, I mean that," she promised him softly. "I love you. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life doting on our two spoiled cats and stopping them from taking apart your Sim Rig. I can't wait watching you win races and knowing that you come straight home to me. And I can't wait to see what you'll do when you are done with it all and decide that you want to try out something new. I can't wait to grow old with you."

Max was stunned silent by her words, staring at her, swallowing.

"That's all I ever wanted too. Just you, me, and our little monsters. Nothing more, nothing less,"he said, his voice catching.

"Maybe some kids too. Down the line," she teased him. She wanted that. One day. Max had always been amazing with children.

"You...you would want that?" he asked huskily. "You want children with me?"

Her hands rose to cup his face. "Of course," she said softly. "I want everything with you."

With him, the thought of children didn't seem so scary. It felt more like a promise of the future, a future that would be filled with love and laughter.

Max's arms around her grew tighter, desperate almost. He pulled her even closer, burying his face in her neck and inhaling deeply.

"I don't deserve you," he mumbled against her skin. "I truly don't."

Ariel gently cradled his head against her, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion. "Shush," she whispered. "Of course you do. I love you."

They simply sat there on the couch for a moment, wrapped up in each other. The world outside their little bubble seemed to fade away, and all that mattered were each other.

"I really want to go home," she said softly. "And cuddle Sassy. And Jimmy."

Max chuckled quietly and nodded into the crook of her neck. The thought of going home after the last few days sounded idyllic.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice muffled. "Let's go home."

(Author's Note: While this finishes off this particular installment, I am SO NOT FINISHED WITH THEIR STORY. It will be a series and I have A LOT of ideas. So I will wildly skip through the timeline 😅😂 (Also if you have ideas/prompts/suggestions, they are always welcome!)

245 notes · View notes

lcriedlastnight · 10 months ago

Note

Can you do a fluffy and angsty fic for Lando after Austria, his girl comforting him. I'm surprised there aren't more after what happened under the tags but the only ones that were there are smut, which I don't really want to read I want fluff and angst.

sorry it took me so long to respond anon! i've been swamped.

tw: fem! reader, swears, AUSTRIA!!!!, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1k

you watch as lando trailed after max and you knew one of two things was inevitable. either lando was going to overtake max and finally take the lead after what seemed like forever, or the two boys were going to crash into each other.

you watch with one eye open every time lando tries to overtake max. you makes your body tense up as you fear that this will be the time their tires touch. you try to stay hopeful but you know that this will not end well, neither drivers willing to give up their positions and both trying to fight for that first place position.

it happens so quickly, it was a blink and you'll miss it incident. all you see is lando's mclaren try another move on max then something flying in the air. you can hear shouts from the mclaren team around you but you were still confused, you were not sure what exactly was happening. you watch as max slows down and lando finally overtakes him. you hear that he has received a five second penalty. you see a flash of a red bull fly past in the pit lane and then suddenly, lando's own car is stopped, practically half of its back wheel missing. it is then that it finally registers. they had contact and it had caused lando to retire from the race (you later found out it was his own decision).

you had not been with lando long enough to know what to do in this kind of situation. you just stay where you are for ten minutes until maybe the last few laps of the race when you feel lando's presence looming around you.

he does not even have to ask you to follow him as he heads towards his drivers room, head bowed down, not even looking where he was going. the boy was lucky he did not walk into any walls. if it had been any other situation you would have laughed at his carelessness but right now you had no clue how to act.

once you were both in the privacy of his room, lando slumps down on the little couch headfirst. you linger at the door, your hands longing to soothe him and your mind crying out to tell him it will all be alright.

"are you alright?" you question. it comes off timid as much as you tried to seem confident. you knew it was a silly question. you knew he was not fine but you just felt like you had to ask. lando sighs into one of the throw pillows at the question. for some reason this is what spurs you to spring into action. you take the few steps over to join him on the couch and sit as the space next to his feet.

"lando, look at me." you tell him, you voice much more firm and stable than before. lando does as you ask and turns himself so he is facing you and looks at you so sadly he might as well have just ripped out your heart out and jumped on it right there and then.

"that was all max's fault. you did nothing wrong. you tried an overtake, you wouldn't be a racer if you just sat back and let max lead the whole race. you're the only person on the grid who is consistently challenging max every weekend, that's something to be proud of.” you grab his hand gently and let your thumb rub it's own path along the skin of wrist.

"i'm shit. i've had one win and now i can't seem to do it again and when i finally get the chance to, like today, max just fucks me up because he would rather dnf than finish second! and he didn't even retire the fucking car he actually kept on racing which makes me look even worse!" by the end of his rant his voice was louder and you could see the tears of frustration in his eyes.

you swiftly pull him up by his hand to be face to face with you. you hold eye contact with him, letting him know how much you meant what you were going to say.

"you are not shit, lando. you've had one win and now you're hungry for more, of course it's gonna hurt a little when you come second again but listen to me. every single race you are getting closer and closer to max. i know you want it to be now but just because it isn't doesn't mean you're shit. it just means that max knows you are more of a threat than before miami and he can't just saunter along like he did at the start of the season. you're doing so well, please don't doubt yourself."

lando listens through your entire rant without trying to interrupt once and once you are finished talking he drops his head into your lap. "i really, really thought i was gonna get it this time. i really wanted it." he mumbles into your thigh. you know it is killing him and you cannot stand it. you know the only thing you can do to help him though, is to listen to him and give him the most comfort you can manage.

you sigh, hand coming to run through his sweaty, messy curls. "i know, baby. it's coming and it will be so fucking great when it does. i'll be here waiting for you and then we can celebrate like it's first, huh? that sound good?"

you can feel the small smile lando manages on your leg as he nods against it.

you stay like that for what seems like ages but you know it cannot be that long because before lando can even ask the time there is a knock on his door, alerting him that he had press to do in two minutes. he sighs and hauls himself from his comfortable position.

"you're so strong lan, be strong." you tell him with a quick kiss to his lips. lando knows it is a good luck kiss. lando also knows that you know how much he hates doing any kind of press or media when he was feeling like this.

"wish you could come with me." lando's frown is so deep it sort of looks like a half pout half frown. you smile at his cuteness.

"when you come back we can go back to the hotel, order in and watch that adam sandler film you like."

this seems to perk the boy up significantly as he give you a peck on the forehead before rushing out to get his media done and dusted. a night in with you sounded like heaven to him right now. he did not want to me reminded of the events of the day's race but he would put up with it for the end result. you and him cuddled up, together. it is all he ever wants.

278 notes · View notes

giuliettagaltieri · 4 months ago

Text

Trouble in Paradise

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Chapter Synopsis: It's not always perfect with him.

Warning: Talks about fertility awareness and pregnancy, lifestyle differences.

Word Count: 4075

Chapter: 4

“For someone who lost the love of his life and his career in one day, you sure have a sunny disposition.”

Charles watches you pull a grocery cart, clearly not aware that your words weighed a little heavier than you meant.

“She’s not the love of my life. The worst has already happened and I don’t want to dwell in it anymore.” He mutters quietly but his dimples deepen at the playful quirk of his lips, making you purse your lips. “Charles Leclerc the F1 driver is gone now and as for the moment I just want to live without the burden of my name.”

You bite your lip this time, watching him as he places the basket on the bottom tray of the cart.

“I’m sorry.” You bite your lip, your hands immediately fumbling with your bag and Charles notices it. “I shouldn’t comment so carelessly about your persona-”

“Sweetheart.” He cuts you off. “If anything it’s me who should apologize. I dragged you into my mess and I’m making myself your burden.”

Your eyes widen and you raise your hands as if asking for a double highfive, he glances at your palm when you shake them side to side erratically, trying to dismiss his statement. “Charles, don’t think for a moment that you’re a burden.”

He’s about to protest but you cut him off this time.

“I was willing to let you in that night. And today, I made the decision to let you stay.” You sigh when he still looks unconvinced. “Just think of me as a friend. Friends do stuff for each other, right?”

“I think we’re a bit over friends by now but sure.” He nudges you gently with his body so he can push the cart instead, his smile widening a fraction and it just infects you for some reason.

“Charles, I’m trying to be serious. Don’t laugh at me.” You say as small laughs escape you.

“Alright then. I’ll consider this as a favor from a friend.”

“Yes!” You point a finger at him as if he hit the jackpot. “Not a burden. Just a favor. PLUS! You’re keeping me company, and I quite enjoy it.” You mumble the last part, avoiding his eyes as your cheeks flush.

He quirks up an eyebrow, his easy smile becoming teasing. “Of course you enjoy it. I’m pretty good company.”

Rolling your eyes, you start picking out the groceries and he watches your selection and knows immediately you’re not exactly trying to save money.

“You can pick out a few ingredients or snacks if you want.” You tell him and his eyes immediately flit to the line of refrigerators in the corner. You don’t miss when his gaze linger on the ice cream section. He tells you that he’ll do it later.

Charles stands there as you try to reach for a bottle of olive oil on the top shelf and he enjoys watching your struggle before he gives in and reaches it for you. “Could've asked for help.”

“Excuse me, I’m perfectly capable of getting that myself.” You say sassily, with your hands finding your hips but your act wavers when he leans close to you, a hairbreadth of distance keeping your noses from brushing.

“Of course, whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Your eye twitches and he leans back, standing on his full height, forcing you to crane your neck to look at him. And Charles proves his point.

“My height is average! You’re just slightly tall.” You argue, feeling the need to justify your height.

He yawns as he pretends to clean his ear with his pinky. “What’s with the squeaking? Maybe the mall should call an exterminator.”

Charles laughs when your cheeks puff. Reminding him of those sticky rounded sweets he had in Tokyo. He calls you the exact same thing in French and you don’t know if you should get mad, because you feel like you definitely recognized a word in his sentence but you couldn’t be sure as you don’t speak the language.

You huff this time, marching off to the next aisle. “You just wait, Charles Leclerc. I’ll kick your butt with Duolingo.”

He observes that you systematically choose the items, even constantly checking on your phone, looking quite oblivious to the world around you...and the casual stares you get here and there. Charles looks at you. Really looks at you. You’re not the conventional pretty that he usually sees in his world but you have this charm that really drew him in, even last night too, and he was drunk out of his mind.

“Do you prefer wine or beer?” You ask and he rubs his chin.

“Mh….both.”

You like his style.

You put a small box of beer cans and a few bottles of wine in the cart. “We’re not allowed to get drunk together though.”

Charles nods slowly, looking at you thoughtfully. Ah…so you don’t have any interest in having that kind of relationship with him. You said it yourself earlier too. Friends.

“I also need detergent liquid and fabric conditioner.” You mutter to yourself. “Oh and your snack.”

“I’ve decided on ice cream.” He informs you.

“Sure thing.”

Charles watches as you scan each item as he arranges them in the grocery bag. He grins when you give him the ice cream tub last so he can eat it as you leave. You also get a small treat of your own, happily munching on it as you walk side by side. He looks like a child, pushing the cart filled with grocery bags as he eats on the vanilla ice cream he eagerly chose.

“I can push the cart while you eat.” You tried to offer but he swerved the cart away from your hand, his reflexes nearly startling you. “Calm…down, man.” You gape at him and he only scoops more ice cream to his mouth.

“Ayh ghot et.”

You let him be as you enjoy your own snack. You also watch him load everything in your trunk since he insisted.

“The meat?” He asks and you pull out a retractable basin and he seems impressed.

“I take care of my baby.” You pat your car with a lazy smirk.

He hums, the thick accent coating his words after. “Yeah, pretty good condition. How long have you been driving her?”

“A little over a year. So I think she should be in good condition or I would have been a pretty shit owner.” You chuckle. Shit owner. Charles nods wordlessly, reflecting on how he can destroy a car in a single race.

“Right.”

He finishes loading the groceries along with his stuff and almost heads to the driver’s seat before backtracking and going the other way.

The ride home was not as eventful. You play as a tour guide and point at historic buildings, telling him briefly what you learned from the time you also got a tour of the town. Charles finds out that the road around town isn’t that complicated and he can easily commit it to memory.

The area is not bustling but it also isn’t deserted, unlike that night when he first arrived. The place looked like a ghost town then, with its eerie fog and flickering old fashioned lamp posts.

“How come your apartment doesn’t have cobblestone streets?” He asks out of curiosity.

“Some of the apartments at the edge of the town were built a little later than the town center.” You grin quickly at him before turning back to the road again.

He peers out the window and onto the road. “It’s like we’re in some sort of Victorian drama.”

You laugh. “It’s one of the reasons why I moved here. Plus the beach.”

Charles listens in, liking how you’re openly sharing about yourself without being asked.

“It sucks sometimes though, when a stone is dislodged or when it rains or snows.” You add.

“Gets slippery.” He finishes for you and you agree, chuckling.

“It’s slowly sinking in that you are what you said you are.”

His eyes widened, immediately looking defensive. “I am what I said I am! You searched me. It’s on Google.”

“I know but you’re just Charles to me. Not some Monégasque F1 superstar.” You say gently and he looks at you, surprised at your ability to make him feel things he never had before. “And just someone playing the passenger princess.”

Oh no, you didn’t.

He looks at you in disbelief but his lips are quirked up. “No, no. Get out of there, we’re switching seats.”

“No!” You immediately laugh when he starts spewing, what you can only interpret as French curses. “This is my car, don’t take off your fucking seatbelt, dumbass!” You yell as you clumsily grip his wrist, laughing at the chaos ensuing inside your car. “Stop it! We’re gonna crash!”

He keeps trying to explain how he is NOT a passenger princess and that he has no problem driving if you just let him. When he almost sounds begging, his hands make those huge gestures again as you tear up in laughter.

“Sorry, I didn't know it was sensitive.” You chuckle as he calms down a bit but he still keeps talking, his English breaking when his native language slips in on his sentences. “Is it like an alpha male thing?”

This makes him look at you weirdly. “What?”

“Alpha male? Or what do they say now? Sigma boy?” You raise both brows at him briefly, grinning from ear to ear. “Are you one of those guys, Charles Leclerc?”

He visibly cringes not knowing what to make of the stuff you’re saying. “That’s fucking stupid. I don’t even know what that means. You are very weird.” He says while side eyeing you.

“Yeah this is the catch when you live with me.” You say, attempting to sound cool and obviously failing. “You get to deal with my weirdness.”

He shakes his head, his hand covering the smile on his lips under the guise of smoothening his growing stubble. “Is this going to be what everyday looks like with you?”

You suddenly glance at him in your normal calculating eyes. “Not really. That was just a sudden burst of energy and I will proceed to ignore you for the next three hours now.”

Charles narrows his eyes at you dramatically. “You’re like a cat.”

“Thanks.” Nobody told you that before and you don’t know if it’s a compliment or if it was supposed to insult you. “Seriously though, I need my social battery constantly recharged so you should cherish it when I’m being playful.”

“Minette.”

“What was that?” You turn to him briefly before slowing down when you arrive at your driveway.

He shakes his head and steps out of the car when you finally park it.

Charles was quick to head to your trunk and he insisted on taking the grocery bags. He actually manages to carry every single bag and you’re impressed. It usually takes you at least two trips to carry two weeks’ worth of groceries, and that was just for one person too.

“I can help.” You jog after him, watching how his tendons pop out of his arms, making your throat go dry for a moment.

“Just open the door, babe.” He tells you and you falter in your steps before doing as he says with your tummy fluttering lightly. “Where’s the kitchen again?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly. “Uhm, over there. You can place them on the counter, thank you.” You say a little meekly, still disarmed by his sudden endearment. You watch his back as he disappears in the kitchen.

“He’s a French guy…it must be natural for them to be endearing.” You try to reason out before following him to the kitchen to place in the freezer the variety of meat you bought. “I’ll wash your clothes for you so you can shower.” You offer and he tongues his cheek.

“No, just teach me how to do it.”

You beam. “Alright.” You lead him to your laundry room, tell him which buttons to use and how the cycle goes. He impresses you when he does it flawlessly when you tell him to try on his own. “Good job.” You hum, clearly impressed.

“Oh please, I am not that helpless.” He rolls his eyes. And he glances at your feet and does a double take before he jolts in surprise. “Fuck!”

You glance at your feet, already have felt Lily’s fur. You bend down to pick her up and you let her face Charles. “This is my baby, Lily.” You gently take her paw to wave at Charles who still looks at your cat like it was a spawn of evil.

“Why is it so huge!” He asks and you immediately take offense.

“I…excuse me, she is the perfect size! Lily is just fluffy a-and has…big bones!” You are ready to throw hands if he insults your baby again.

Charles exhales softly and meets the bored feline eyes. “She looks angry.”

“She always looks angry.” You coo. “Don’t you, honey?” You hug her a little tighter and the cat just stares off into space, letting you do your antics.

“I don’t know.” Charles laughs nervously. “Does she scratch and bite?”

You bubble your cheeks before an idea pops into your head. “I know! Let her sniff your… scent for now.”

He reluctantly touches his hat.

“I think it’s good if you let her get accustomed to your scent and presence before you start trying to befriend her.” You mumble, sounding unreliable but it does sound like an okay strategy so he tries it.

Charles takes off his hat and lets Lily sniff it and for a moment she sniffed eagerly at the foreign scent before she turns her nose away, already losing interest. She hops off your arms and trots to the doorway and you both watch her silently and disappointedly before Lily meows angrily at you.

“Oh! Her breakfast!” You hurry to your kitchen to open a can of wet food for her. “I’m so sorry.” Your cat meows sharply before eating and ignoring your pets.

“She’s sassy.” Charles comments as he crosses his arms, looking at your cat. Kinda like you.

You pull off your scarf and head to the bathroom to clear a space for him. You give him a towel and tell him to use the small closet in the laundry room for his clothes. Charles quickly settles in your apartment thanks to your warmth, even going as far as giving him something that he can call his. He bounces a bit on your fortunately large couch and hums his approval, yeah he can sleep in this thing. He hears you in the kitchen, organizing the grocery in the pantry and fridge. He offered to help but you told him to relax on the couch.

The doctor did say to let him rest and to keep him in close monitoring.

Charles does his laundry while you busy yourself with other chores. Because it’s your house and he feels like you earned it after moving around, Charles tells you to shower first, refusing to budge and insisting on it when you try to argue. You can be quite stubborn so he guides you to the bathroom, himself. The brief glance he makes on your pelvis confirms that he does remember what mess he left in there.

When you step out, looking refreshed, he is waiting right outside your bathroom door like he did this morning but he had fresh clothes draped on his arm this time.

“Were you standing there the whole time?” You chuckle but his face is etched with a different kind of seriousness that you throw any other jokes that come to mind out the window.

“Y/N.” Your name rolls in his tongue with the thick French accent you’re starting to get used to.

“Yeah?” You whisper as you meet his eyes.

He sucks his teeth and sighs loudly, looking unsure how to start the conversation. “I just need to ask you something.” He clears his throat and rubs his neck, your eyes following all his nervous habits. “I mean, we slept together, and we did it without protection.”

Oh…it’s that kind of conversation.

You smile sweetly at him. “Come with me.” You lead him inside the bathroom where the scent of your body wash fills his lungs as it hangs heavy in the air, he can almost taste your skin on his tongue. You show him a tiny table calendar resting on the countertop, it sits next to your bathroom products. He snaps out from his thoughts and watches as you flip it to the previous month where red exes mark some of the dates. “These are the days when I got my last period.” You flip it back to the month now. “My next cycle should be around here.” You point vaguely to a few dates and your finger traces the calendar backwards, stopping to point to the date today and yesterday. “It’s a safe window.”

He looks at you to confirm. “So you won’t get pregnant?”

“No.” You smile understandingly as he slowly grasps it. “Sorry, we probably should have talked about it sooner but you know.”

Charles nods before straightening up, feeling relieved to get it out his chest.

“I mean, you’re a great person.” He tells you quickly, looking almost afraid that he might have insulted you at some point. “I just…not yet.” He smiles softly, bringing out his attractive features, and his dimples make your heart skip a beat. For a split second you wondered what it would be like to have a kid that has his eyes but you manage to not make a fool of yourself in front of him and instead, you nod, feeling the same as him.

“Well, me too.” You smile tightly, feeling a little flustered and awkward to be talking about these stuff with him suddenly. “So uhm…”

“Yeah.” He says, quickly understanding and he steps back to let you through. You close the bathroom door for him and he glances at your calendar again. He reaches for it and hesitates as it was personal but he lets the voices in his head win and he flips through them. Your cycle isn’t as consistent as he thought but considering you did point to multiple dates earlier, he guesses that it might not be an exact date all the time. “Come on, Charles. She said it’s a window.” He reminds himself.

You on the other hand are still pacing in your room, throwing on the first set of clothes you saw, still trying to shake off the effect he had on you. Charles is a very goofy guy but he no doubt is able to make you swoon without even trying. You fan yourself with your hand despite the blasting ac.

Charles Leclerc.

Just who exactly is that guy? You hop on your bed and reach for your laptop, cursing when you drop your airpods, you refuse to get up from your bed and blindly sweep your carpet floor with your hand, constantly glancing at your closed bedroom door as if Charles would burst in at any moment. You finally manage to grab your airpods, quickly opening Youtube. “Cha..rl..es…Le..c..le..rc...oh! And F1.” You jab your finger at enter.

For you don’t know how long, you just watch the shorts with Charles on the F1 channel.

“He’s funny.” You giggle. “And an idiot.” A hot idiot at that.

A knock on your door pulls you out from whatever is running through your head and you slam your laptop close to open the door for him. He looks at you suspiciously as your chest heaves, looking absolutely guilty. Charles glances inside your bedroom before looking at you again.

“Can I have one of your granola bars?”

Lunch! “Oh my, I lost track of time.” You push your way through and you quickly hand him a granola bar once you get to the kitchen. “I’ll make us lunch.”

Charles sits on the barstool and watches you make a quick mac n’ cheese. It’s entertaining how focused you can be. He thanks you when you place the bowl in front of him but to his disappointment, you leave for your bedroom.

You come back shortly with your ipad this time. He watches you work on something he has absolutely no idea about. You feel his heavy gaze and you slowly look at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, I’m being rude.”

“Well, kind of, yes.” He smiles kindly and you immediately set your ipad aside.

“Sorry, I just needed to contact my suppliers. Usually, I’d be working in the office by now.”

He understands that you probably haven’t had someone over since forever to disrupt your schedule and nods understandingly. “Oh yeah, you mentioned it earlier.” He tries to start a conversation.

“Yeah and it's Sunday so I don’t have much time as I need to meal prep for Monday to Wednesday.” You explain.

“Meal prep?” He shifts weirdly and you don’t understand it until he asks. “You mean you eat the same refrigerated meal that you make days before?”

“Well, I always heat them up real well though.” You argue but he looks resigned from the conversation. “Don’t judge me.” You playfully punch his shoulders and he looks at you again. “It’s still a normal meal but it saves me so much time.”

“I don’t know.” He tells you honestly and turns back to his food. It sounds so practical especially with your schedule but it just doesn’t appeal to him.

“Unless I wanna eat take outs for three days, I have to meal prep.” You say, feeling slightly offended now.

“It just sounds boring having to eat the same meal.” Charles swallows the food in his mouth. “Kind of like having leftovers.”

“I don’t just make a single dish and have it for three days straight!” You tell him defensively.

He nods hastily upon hearing your tone, not wanting to start a full argument. “…you know, you’re right.” He smoothes your hair but you’re frowning really deeply. “But I tried it once before and it didn’t work for me. I just think that the texture of food would be better if it was made fresh.”

You shove the spoon in your mouth, chewing angrily what’s left of the mac n’ cheese before getting up to leave him for the sink, his hand that was on your hair still suspended in the air as he stares at you nervously.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of having chefs serve us with meals three times a day.” You snap and he feels bad immediately. He doesn’t even have chefs serving him meals…most of the time. But you get the point.

“I’m sorry.” He shoves the mac n’ cheese left in his bowl to his mouth and rushes to your side as you frown at the bowl you’re washing. “I am being so ungrateful. Y/N, I am really sorry.”

You place the bowl on the drying rack and turn to him angrily but your eyes are glassy and he wants to strangle himself for doing this to you when you have done nothing but be kind and understanding to him.

“Sweetheart.” He breathes, not knowing what else to say.

“I am doing what I can, okay?” You say and he watches you blink away tears. “This isn’t Monaco anymore, Charles.”

He tries to wrap his arms around you but you pull away just as quick. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” He tells you in a hushed tone, leaning down to try and meet your eyes but you’re glaring at the sink instead.

“If you don’t like refrigerated meals then you are free to cook for yourself.” You say before deciding to give him the cold shoulder.

For the rest of the day, you stay yourself in your office, he hears the printer working and paper being crumpled, along with cellophane. You’re packing the orders from your business and he knows better than to mess with you again.

You didn’t even get to meal prep.

Charles doesn’t understand why it bothered him so much before when now as he lies on your couch, meal prepping sounds very practical and smart.

People can have different lifestyles, he understood that night. And just because yours is different, doesn’t mean it’s bad.

He’ll have to make it up to you soon.

Overdrive

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc series #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 2025 #overdrive

135 notes · View notes

lilacliquors · 7 months ago

Text

kinktober day thirty: thigh riding

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 883

notes: happy day thirty! i can't believe we're almost done with our third kinktober, like that's wild to me. and i'm gonna start prepping for the 12 days of ficmas in the next week or so, so be on the look out for that, too!

he only made you ride his thigh when you were being a brat, and some days, you couldn’t help yourself.

that night was one of those times.

he’d been gone for far too long, in your opinion, and you wanted just one night to have him all to yourself. however, it looked like that wasn’t going to happen right away, much to your disappointment. it was like the moment he got home, he got called back out to take care of something, and it was torture. you two didn’t know a moment’s peace, and you wanted that to change as soon as possible.and that night, you took matters into your own hands. it wasn’t the best decision you’d ever made, but it usually got you what you wanted, with some strings attached, of course.

before he could make his way out the door, you whined at him, begging him to blow off work just this once, that it wouldn’t happen again, you’d never ask again, the usual. and like always, he just shook his head and tried to explain that he couldn’t stay, it was urgent, and no one else could handle the issue. and he’d almost made it out the door successfully, but then he caught a glimpse of you in the mirror you had hung in your hallway.

you had perched yourself on your shared bed, undressed and in a lingerie set he’d not seen you in before. it was purple and lacey, leaving very little to his active imagination. he knew what you were doing, and he knew he had to be strong willed. but the way you were sitting was too enticing, and a growl vibrated in his throat.

“fine,” he said, turning around and marching over. “fine, you wanna play this game? you wanna make me late?”

you let out a squeak as he picked you up off the bed, like you weighed nothing, and he sat down in your spot. then, like he’d done a million times before, he settled you on his leg, making sure you faced him as you straddled his thigh.

“you know the rules. you wanna act bratty, you’re not gonna get exactly what you want from me. now, ride my thigh like a good girl, and maybe we can take care of your other needs when i get back,” he said, and you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

you knew what you had gotten yourself into, and you had to admit, he was sexy when he was annoyed, but you knew that he loved you more than anything. so, with your hands on his shoulders, you began to grind against his thigh, rocking your hips against the material of his pants. that, with the friction of your panties against your folds, made you gasp softly. it was shaky, and you felt your cheeks warm up, but he simply held your waist and kept you right where he wanted you.

“ah, ah,” he muttered, giving you a squeeze. “keep going. keep going until you cum, like you wanted to badly.”

you moaned, the pressure against your clit and the sound of his voice spurring you on. you wanted to cum so badly, though you wished it was from him fucking into you, nice and slow, stretching and filling you in the best way possible. those thoughts alone had you speed up, and god did he love to see you lose control.

“that’s it, there you go,” he muttered, rubbing your back with one hand. “just like that …”

you nodded quickly, your grip on his shoulder tightening the faster you moved. instead of rocking your hips, you rolled them, his thigh muscles pressing against your clit just right. it made you whimper, and he knew you’d found your sweet spot.

he didn’t dare say another word, he didn’t want you to lose your rhythm. instead, he let go of you, leaned back, and let you go wild.

the sounds that left your lips were music to his ears. every moan, gasp, whimper, he loved it. and he could tell by the desperate way you ground against the muscles of his thigh that you were close.

“gonna cum for me?” he whispered, and you nodded, unable to really form a sentence. you were just aching for that release, for it to hit you all at once. and when your mouth fell open in a silent cry, and your body stilled while your grip on his shoulders tightened further, he just knew.

he caught you as you fell forward, your legs shaking from the sheer exertion, and he kissed your forehead gently.

“shh, i got you,” he muttered, rubbing your back with a gentle hand.

“do you still have to go?” you asked, your voice soft.

“mhm. but i’ll be back in under an hour. then, i promise i’m gonna take care of you the way you deserve. can you be good for me for forty five minutes?” he asked, and you nodded.

“mhm, i can. pinky promise.”

“good. get some water, rest up, and i’ll see you in just a little bit. you’ll be begging me to take a longer assignment so you can recuperate.”

“unlikely,” you replied, and he gave you a squeeze as he chuckled.

“we’ll see about that.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes kinktober #lilacliquors kinktober 2024 #kinktober2024 #kinktober 2024

203 notes · View notes

creedslove · 1 year ago

Text

LONGING ✨

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: His longing for you is going to be the death of him, especially if he thinks he isn't good enough

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of paid sex

A/N: it's been a long time since I managed to write something more than a headcanon, but you know, it feels I'm back, modestly and Pedro Pascal and his smooth clean shaven plus mustache face is to blame for my return, it has awakened something in me

1.5k words

Javier was embarrassed, ashamed and mortified. He didn't want to do that, to ask you that, but at the same time he really did. More than that, he was desperate, he needed to ask and to know your answer. When he stepped inside your apartment earlier, all he could think of was standing by your side and taking care of you, while you went through another one of your dreadful migraine episodes. At first he was really torn between showing up or not, worried that would make him look like a sick lovey puppy, but at the same time, it was exactly what he was and even if he couldn't be with you in that way, he still wanted to be a part of it and enjoy some time with you, allowing himself to pretend there was something more than just the bond you two shared over a total unexpected friendship that grew between you both. He liked spending time with you overall, more so when you were alright, excited and willing to have a drink, go out, dance or just act as the only ray of sunshine that truly mattered in his life; but there was something about just standing silently next to you, making you a cup of tea and playing with your strands of hair very gently it made him come running to you every single time he sensed you weren't doing that well.

No matter if the lights were dimmed, if the TV was low and you were lying on the couch, your head on his lap as his fingers ran through your hair and he could just enjoy how cozy everything around him was. He still had a question, a doubt hammering his chest and it made him uneasy, needing to let it go and just get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.

“Cariño…” Javi's voice was soft as you opened your eyes at his calling, it always made you flutter to be addressed like that by him “...can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, Javi…”

“I-I like this woman… I don't know how to approach her, and what should I do?”

There he said it. It was out in the open, his pathetic question aimed at you with a slightly shaken voice, he felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he felt himself back in the seventh grade. He needed to know, he needed to open up and tell you you were that woman, he needed to see if he had any chance with you, but then, he couldn't bring himself into doing it, it was paralyzing, because it wasn't just lust, or a silly crush, it was more than that, it was craving, passion, love.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but laugh softly, not sure where that joke was coming from. Why was Javier talking like an inexperienced schoolboy was a mystery to you, so raising your head from his lap and sitting straight up on the couch, staring at him with a confused frown, you could see there was no laughter, not even a smirk, he was completely serious about his question and you felt unsure what to say.

“Oh.. you mean that?! I'm sorry..” you chuckled a little embarrassed and licked your lips thinking of what to say next, being honest was always the best and the go to option between the two of you “well, Javi that's surprising, I mean, you are Javier Peña, women like you, not the other way around you know what I mean? You can get any girl you want, so this one just made you lost?”

Javi took a deep breath and ran his hand through his jaw, looking at you and nodding, making it so obvious his discomfort.

“Yeah…” his hand traveled through his hair still shyly “I just like her, for real… thought it wouldn't happen to me, the idea of, you know, being in love seemed so distant. I don't know what to do”

“Is this like Lorraine?”

Javi chuckled at that; the only love reference you ever got from him was a woman he left at the altar when he wasn't much more than a teenager. He was a mess, not being able to develop a single meaningful relationship in his life and suddenly aiming for it with you, while you weren't even aware of that. Shaking his head, he looked into your eyes

“No, Lorraine was different… I liked her, but I didn't love her. I was also younger, immature and a real dick, but that was long ago and she forgave me and found a decent man to build a family with. This is different now, I don't know what to do, what to say, I feel I'm not enough…”

“Well Javi…”

“All I'm saying is that I feel I'm not worthy, you know? What could I do so she would see I'm real..”

“You can always stop the whoring, Javi”

You shrugged and smiled, sort of joking at the same time he tilted his head and watched you attentively, he wasn't expecting that answer but now he got it, he was intrigued.

“What I mean is that if you want to show this girl you like her, you gotta stop going after any women, no prostitutes, that kind of stuff. You see, if it were me for example, it would be a deal breaker, I wouldn't want to be with a man who does that. No offense Javi, you are a great guy, but in a romantic sense I guess no woman would be okay with knowing their boyfriend is well-known all over the whorehouses in Bogota… it would be embarrassing, humiliating even, to know whenever you get into a place with your boyfriend everyone knows he's been sleeping around”

Javier went silent. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he stared into your eyes. That's what you thought of him; he knew you didn't mean to offend him, you knew you didn't judge him for his ways of life, as long as you remained in the friendship area. It was as clear as the sky you would never be involved with him. He couldn't even blame you for it, only himself for ever thinking he could have a shot with you. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't necessarily offended, he was simply disappointed in himself and his unrealistic expectations, he was heartbroken because he had ruined everything before he could even start it.

“Y-you think she wouldn't be with me because of that?”

You noticed how upset Javi seemed and you immediately regretted the words you'd said. You were so used to being honest and straightforward towards him, it didn't even occur to you your words could hurt him. Words never seemed to hurt Javier Peña in the first place, so why was that so different? It didn't make any sense to you, sighing you looked into his beautiful sad eyes once more.

“I don't know her, Javi… maybe this isn't a big deal for her, all I'm saying is that if it were me, I wouldn't be okay with it, I guess, but you're a wonderful man, no matter what and if she's worthy of you, she'll love and accept you no matter what”

“You think I'm disgusting?”

His words broke your heart, you could never think that of him, he was your Javi, and even if you didn't agree with his way of living, you cared about him. Placing your hands on his cheek and caressing them gently.

“Of course not, Javi… I am just jealous I guess, I wouldn't want that many women around my man, and I think you deserve so much better than that. You are handsome, sweet, intelligent, you shouldn't have to pay for that, you should be able to have a family…”

You said sweetly and Javi gave you a sweet, sad smile, you didn't know if he agreed or not, but he held your hand in his and stroked it with his thumb. He'd always been so gentle with you, he was often much better than you deserved it. Whoever that girl was, she was damn lucky.

“Do you mean that, cariño?”

“Yes, amor…”

Javi's heart raced as you called him that. Amor. Love. Could it possibly be it? Perhaps he did have a chance?

“You know Javi, the embassy ball is coming, maybe you should invite your girl to come with you” you suggested and he chuckled, it was his turn to place his hands on your cheeks, always dwarfing them with how big he was compared to you. Javi still wondered if you were playing hard to get or if you really hadn't realized you were his girl.

“You're right cariño, but I could invite anyone in the world, and none of them would be as beautiful as you are”

He loved you, his heart ached from the longing he felt, he didn't know if he had a chance with you, sometimes he thought so, and sometimes he was sure you were way out of his league, but one thing he knew for sure: he'd love you for the rest of his life no matter what.

____

437 notes · View notes

writingdevil · 1 month ago

Note

Uhhh. Looks up at you with big round eyes. Would u be willing to write some platonic Gasoline [Smitten, Cold, and Stubborn]

Ideally them being weirdos/vaguely fucked up but I'll take whatever ur in the mood for :]

(I didn't know Gasoline was their name, but it's really cool. None of them know how to be normal in the slightest, so this'll be really fun. Enjoy!)

"Now, why did you both think that this was a good idea?"

Stubborn snorted at Smitten's disappointed tone, talking to them as if they were fledglings. Judging by the eye roll from Cold, he felt the same.

Stubborn leaned back, his back hitting Smitten's bedrest, lounging on his bed as if it was his own. Stubborn saw the way Smitten's eyes briefly lit up in delight at the sight of Stubborn getting comfortable, before his attention was pulled back to Cold, who was laying across the end of Smitten's bed on his stomach, kicking his feet as he inspected his hand.

Smitten stood in front of Cold, his arms crossed and a cross look on his face, but it was hard to think that Smitten could be cross with anybody, in Stubborn's opinion.

Smitten looked down at Cold, who was giving him a bored look in return. "Cold, how many times have I told you to tell me about your dark thoughts before you act on them?"

"What if listening to you counted as a dark thought?"

"Then I guess you would be truly lost to the darkness then," Smitten teased, and Cold shot a subtle glare at Smitten, before lowering his head to stare at the floor again.

"What's the big deal?" Stubborn asked with a shrug. "You said to come to you if it was a dangerous thought, not a dark one."

Smitten sighed and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. "Stubborn my dear, you broke two of his fingers-"

"Yeah, only two!"

Stubborn sat up with a huff, refusing to let Smitten win this argument. "I obviously wasn't gonna break more! I have limits as well, you know!"

"Do you?" Cold asked with intrigue, lifting his head up, his eyes sparkling with a desire to see where exactly Stubborn's line was-and Stubborn grinned at the thought of finding that out with him.

But before that idea could go any further, Smitten whipped his head to glance between the two of them, going, "No! We are dealing with this issue first before you embark on another!"

"There's not even an issue anymore," Cold said, lifting his right hand up to show his two bandaged fingers, tied at the base with a bow, courtesy of Smitten. Stubborn could tell Cold hated that bow.

"Yes, there is!" Smitten protested, beginning to pace up and down in front of them. "The fact that this happened at all is the issue!"

Stubborn chuckled at Smitten's dramatics. "You're starting to sound like your brother," he muttered, and Cold made a sound of agreement.

Then Stubborn had to hide his smirk as he saw a dark glint shine in Smitten's eyes, and the way Smitten's smile stretched until it was just a tad too sharp to seem sweet anymore.

Stubborn and Cold won.

Smitten took a deep breath in, and then his voice was much more calm and controlled as he said, "Forgive me, my dears- I am never one to try and stifle one's curiousity and passions. I believe that listening to your heart will always lead you in the right direction, no matter what."

"We know this about you," Cold butted in without any care or general interest in what Smitten was saying.

But then Smitten looked down at Cold, who was making a pointed effort to stare at the ground, and Stubborn gulped at the intensity of Smitten's eyes in that moment.

Stubborn could feel the tension in the air as nobody spoke for a few minutes, and if Cold was getting antsy or nervous, his body language definitely didn't show it.

Then Smitten smiled with a wicked sort of softness, and then he crouched down to be at eye level with Cold.

Cold lifted his gaze, locking eyes and barely blinking at Smitten.

"I am usually all for doing what your heart desires, but I also can't stand the thought of the people I love hurting themselves without me there to look after them."

Cold waved his injured hand carelessly in the air. "We were only trying to-"

"I don't care," Smitten suddenly grabbed Cold's hand, his voice now taking a dark tone as he stared into Cold's eyes-and then he squeezed Cold's broken fingers, "what you were trying to do."

Stubborn couldn't look away as he saw Cold's eyes widen, and then a single twitch of his eye, probably the most of a reaction that he was willing to show.

"I don't want the two of you to do it again," Smitten softly ordered, with a hint of a threat behind his voice that Cold and Stubborn heard clear as day.

Smitten held eye contact for a few more seconds, before humming in satisfaction, leaning forward to press a kiss to Cold's forehead, and then he cheerfully added, "I don't like it when the people I care about are in pain."

Stubborn laughed at his words, mumbling under his breath, "Trust me, we know."

Smitten's attention swiftly snapped to Stubborn, and then the fight was between them.

Smitten stood up, making his way over to Stubborn, his eyes taking in every inch of Stubborn's relaxed body.

Sometimes Smitten's passion was enough to keep Stubborn energised, and Cold interested for a good while.

But sometimes they craved something else from Smitten, and the chance of trying to bring that out was a challenge that Stubborn and Cold much preferred.

Stubborn blinked, and then Smitten was right in front of him, a hand on his knee, and the tiny warmth of that hand was both pleasant and scorching.

"Stubborn," Smitten cooed, "surely you feel like hurting poor Cold's fingers was wrong, yes?"

Stubborn wasn't going to be the one to submit, to admit defeat and face the consequences that both himself and Cold were seeking from the usually sweet and innocent avian.

So he shrugged nonchalantly, casting his eyes around the room, catching how Cold was staring at both of them, not even attempting to hide his intrigue.

"Cold's not exactly a complainer, and like I said, it's not that big of a deal."

Smitten tilted his head to the side, a patient and calm expression on his face. "What makes you think that?"

Stubborn smirked and leaned forward, noticing how Smitten tensed up at the proximity.

Stubborn looked Smitten right in the eyes and said, "Because you're nice enough to patch him up, even if he doesn't ask for it."

Stubborn's smirk grew wider at the way Smitten stiffened and froze at his words, feathers puffing up in mortification, and Stubborn even heard Cold hum in amusement at the reaction.

But then Smitten chuckled, squeezing Stubborn's knee and making him jolt in surprise. "I see what's going on here," Smitten said, beaming at both of them as if overjoyed.

There was a knot in Stubborn's chest full of anticipation and nerves. Cold looked as still as a corpse.

"You two just want my attention."

A nervous chuckle almost escaped Stubborn's mouth, but he managed to hold it in as he stared up into Smitten's eyes, now alight with excitement and perhaps smugness.

Smitten shook his head playfully at them. "You two really need to get better at just asking for what you want."

"Where's the fun in that?" Cold asked, attempting to bend his broken fingers without Smitten noticing.

"Well, either way," Smitten said, "I think some mandatory cuddles and preening are in order. Starting now."

"Now?" Stubborn blurted out with a laugh. "That sure was quick."

Smitten hummed in delight as he looked down at Stubborn, and it felt like Smitten was staring directly into his soul, sending a nervous thrill through Stubborn.

"Well, I already locked the door when you both walked in, so there's nowhere for you to go." That made Cold sit up in surprise, brows raised as he glanced at the bedroom door.

Stubborn's fists clenched. "Just for a little bit though, yeah?"

Smitten laughed in amusement, walking around to the end of the bed. "Oh, I don't know. It seems like you two really need some love and attention right now. So I say I keep you both here, give you all the attention and praise you want, right up until I think you're ready to behave. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Well, the idea of being soft and vulnerable wasn't something that neither Stubborn or Cold would admit to wanting or happily submit to, but that was what Smitten was here for-to make them.

Smitten stared them both down in a way not unlike an opponent ready to strike down an enemy. "Well then, shall we begin?"

#slay the princess #stories #my writing #stp #stp voices #stp stubborn #stp smitten #stp cold #voice of the cold #voice of the stubborn #voice of the smitten #stp gasoline #I'm not sure if I captured the vaguely fucked up vibes but I tried my best #writing request

69 notes · View notes

oletuswriter · 6 months ago

Note

im so embarassed of sending asks but I LOVED YOUR LAST POST. Idk what to say, but could you do character analysis? If you only write as x reader it could be relationship hc or analisys of how they act w reader JUST DO YOUR MAGIC 💗💗💗💗

੭⠀ A deeper look into the relationship.

⋆⠀AUTHOR’S NOTES: I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted or which character you had in mind, but here it is! If it’s not quite what you had in mind, feel free to send another ask. By the way, to the people who sent requests,thank you! I’ll be posting soon, I just need a little time to write 🫶🏻

⋆⠀FEATURING: Frederick Kreiburg 'Composer'.

⋆⠀WARNING: This post contain spoilers of Ashes of Memory and Frederick’s backstory.

The room was silent. Frederick stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the faint glow of moonlight. He didn’t look at you when he spoke. “I never planned on letting anyone get this close.” His fingers tapped idly against the windowsill, a subtle betrayal of his nerves. “But now… I can’t imagine leaving without you.” He finally turned, his eyes meeting yours. “Tell me you’ll come with me. That this—whatever this is—wasn’t a mistake.”

⋆⠀Frederick grew up carrying more burdens than he could handle. His father’s rejection, combined with his disorder, instilled in him a constant need to distance himself from others to feel “safe.” The disappointment of realizing he didn’t inherit the natural talent that ran in his family’s veins didn’t help either, and his paranoia only worsened over time.

⋆⠀His perception of the people around him is always the same—neutral, if he even cares enough about them to give them any space in his mind. So, when you were introduced, Frederick was polite and brief, treating you just like anyone else who had entered the manor.

⋆⠀His thoughts about you only began to change after you confronted Orpheus for overstepping into matters that were none of his business. At first, Frederick assumed you were just a people pleaser trying to lower his guard. However, later that same day, he overheard you chatting with Alice and Melly once again, telling them about how you were against being so impolite and disrespectful.

⋆⠀The closeness between you two didn’t happen overnight, but small gestures and actions here and there gradually allowed you both to feel at ease in each other’s presence. He listened to you, engaged in normal conversations, and stopped giving short replies just to end the discussion. He even waited for you to arrive at the table before starting to eat. For others, it was surprising to see Frederick interacting without being defensive, though they simply assumed it was a budding friendship.

⋆⠀In the beginning, that’s all it was. Frederick wasn’t exactly thrilled about having someone he could call a friend, but he wasn’t upset about it either. When he realized his feelings were changing, though, he tried to deny them to himself. Yet, seeing how futile that was, he was left with only one option: acceptance.

⋆⠀Being in a relationship with him can be complicated. Even if he trusts you, he’s unlikely to let you know much about his past—unless it directly affects your relationship. The thought of you abandoning him is something he cannot bear, and he is willing to do anything to prevent that, from killing to opening up about some past traumas.

⋆⠀Frederick’s paranoia is no secret. He feels not only jealousy but also a deep-seated anger toward anyone who dares to take your attention away from him. He firmly believes that people have ill intentions when they approach you and wants you to believe that as well. And if you dismiss it? Oh, God, either he’ll manipulate you with tears, or he’ll accuse you of betraying him.

⋆⠀If you ever get upset with him, he’ll send romantic letters, dedicate songs to you, and do things straight out of a romance novel. Part of these actions can be a sincere apology; the rest, although, can also be just an attempt to make you forget whatever mistake he made.

⋆⠀Above all, once you agree to be his partner, Frederick will include you in his plans for life after leaving the manor. Even if he doesn’t fully explain what those plans entail, one thing is certain—leaving you behind is not an option for him.

#identity five #idv x reader #idv x you #identity v x reader #idv fanfic #idv imagines #idv headcanons #idv composer #Frederick Kreiburg x you

113 notes · View notes

saltywinteradult · 9 months ago

Note

How is Dany is abusive to Jon?

Honest question, I’ve never given it a thought

I'm sorry this took me so long, anon, and I am really sorry for how long this post got. I had a lot of thoughts on this.

Before we begin, I'd like to point you to this compilation of Jon's reactions to Dany, which hardly paints a picture of a man who is happy and in love, as well as this post and this gifset, both pointing out the parallels between Jon's relationship with Dany and Sansa's relationship with Littlefinger, the latter being a relationship I hope most people can agree is abusive.

It's absolutely crucial to remember that in this relationship, Dany is the person with the power. She is the one with the dragons and the biggest army, and she is willing to both use and abuse that power to get her way.

Furthermore, Dany wants the North's loyalty, but the North needs her help. (The fact that it's Dany's duty as well as in her own best interest to help fight the Others is a different discussion; she doesn't seem to understand this anyway.) She has agreed to grant that help, but she could easily withdraw it if she chooses. She has more power than literally anyone else and there's simply no escaping that power imbalance - it permeates every single interaction Dany has with Jon and all the other Northerners for all of s7 and the first half of s8.

I want you to remember how Dany treats Jon on Dragonstone. His weapons and his boat are taken away immediately upon his arrival. She says Jon is "not yet" her prisoner, but 1) that line very clearly implies that she could make him her prisoner if she chooses to, and 2) how much does it really matter that Jon is "not yet" her prisoner when she's already taken away his means of defending himself or leaving the island? Remember how she later tells him "I haven't given you permission to leave." Girl, what happened to Jon not being your prisoner?

I think it's also very telling that Dany never once addresses Jon by his proper title of King in the North, even before he bends the knee. As you may recall, Dany cares a great deal about titles. She never grants Jon the same respect she demands for herself, and she likes to remind Jon that she is his Queen even during a supposedly intimate, romantic scene.

(Gif by yocalio via gameofthronesdaily)

Earlier in this scene, Dany pointed out that they could stay here in this secluded spot, away from the kingdom and its politics, and no one would find them. Yet even here, away from the rest of the world, she makes a point of referring to herself as "your Queen".

I point all of this out to illustrate that from the very beginning and throughout their relationship, Dany views Jon as a subordinate, not an equal. That is very much not a good foundation for a healthy and equal romantic relationship. Her constant expectation is that Jon will submit, obey, give things up to benefit her, and ensure that the people he has power over act the way she wants.

Case in point:

"Your sister doesn't like me. [...] She doesn't need to be my friend, but I am her Queen. If she can't respect me..."

The implication is that Sansa is doing something wrong by not liking or respecting Dany (meaning "not acting deferential enough for Dany's taste"). The fact that Dany is saying this to Jon and not to Sansa herself implies that it's Jon's responsibility to ensure that Sansa behaves acceptably. "If she can't respect me..." Then what? What exactly is she implying will be the consequences? That their romantic relationship will end? Something worse?

At this point, the North has bent the knee to Dany. As their monarch this is not an entirely unreasonable thing to ask of her subjects - but it's not a very reasonable thing for a girlfriend to ask of her boyfriend, is it? The line between Jon and Dany's political relationship as monarch and subject and their personal relationship as girlfriend and boyfriend isn't just blurred, it's practically nonexistent. To state the obvious, there is a reason we decided that absolute monarchies are bad here in the real world. There is also a reason why a boss dating a subordinate is frowned upon in the real world. Big power imbalances are a bad idea in general and in romantic relationships especially. They should at the very least be considered and navigated carefully. Dany not only fails to do so; she is only happy with her and Jon's relationship when she has power over him.

For proof, let's look at how she reacts when that power imbalance is upended by the revelation of Jon's true identity:

youtube

This revelation is a bombshell for Jon. Everything he thought he knew about his own origins turns out to be untrue. However, Dany's first and only thought is how this affects her. Her first reaction is denial and scepticism; the second is to turn cold as soon as she realises that this makes Jon a threat to her ambitions.

There's also this line:

"A secret no one in the world knew, except your brother and your best friend. Doesn't seem strange to you?"

Which implies... What, exactly? That Sam and Bran made this up? Why? Just like with Sansa in the previous scene, we see Dany questioning the actions and intentions of Jon's loved ones. Remember that.

Things escalate in episode 4:

youtube

Dany is faced with the notion that Jon might hold more political power than she thought, that they might actually be on somewhat equal footing, and this makes her unhappy.

"I want it to be the way it was between us."

Her desire is to continue their sexual relationship and to return to the previous status quo where she held more power than him and therefore didn't consider him a threat. Jon having a stronger claim to the throne than her threatens Dany's sense of her own identity and purpose, and she reacts by trying to deny and suppress this reality:

"You can say nothing, to anyone, ever! Swear your brother and Samwell Tarly to secrecy and tell no one else! Or it will take on a life of its own and you won't be able to control it or what it does to people!"

(Imagine this with the genders reversed. Yikes.)

Dany is demanding Jon keep his own identity secret from his own family. That's not a reasonable thing to ask of a person you love. Not for one second does she show any consideration for how Jon might feel or what Jon might want. It's all about her. Her expectation is that Jon suppress his own identity, his own reality, to benefit Dany's ambitions. Never once does it seem to occur to Dany that what Jon does with this secret is up to him to decide, not her. His agency is of no concern to her.

Jon: I have to tell Sansa and Arya. Dany: Sansa will want to see me gone and you on the Iron Throne. [...] She's not the girl you grew up with. Not after what she's seen, not after what they've done to her. [...] Jon: They're my family. We can live together. Dany: We can. I've just told you how.

Here we are again with Dany questioning the motives and agendas of Jon's loved ones. Now she's no longer implying but outright stating that they're working against her. What we have here is a pattern of Dany implying that Jon's loved ones are up to no good and can't be trusted. I don't need to explain why that is a dangerous and manipulative thing to do to one's partner, right?

I also want you to pay extra attention to how Emilia delivers that final line. Throughout the whole scene Dany is distraught and desperate, but at this point she turns cold and closed off with an unmistakable anger that Jon won't agree to do as she demands. It is very hard not to read a threatening undertone into that line. "Keep it secret, or else."

Before we move on to episode 5, I'd like to highlight this line, spoken by Dany to Tyrion and Varys in episode 4:

"Speaking to Cersei will not prevent a slaughter. But perhaps it's good the people see that Daenerys Stormborn made every effort to avoid bloodshed, and Cersei Lannister refused. They should know whom to blame when the sky falls down upon them."

Let's be clear on one thing here: Cersei could choose to back down and surrender to avoid bloodshed - but, and I cannot stress this enough, so could Dany. Cersei and Dany are both being selfish and power-hungry by refusing to give up the throne in order to avoid bloodshed. But to admit that would ruin Dany's deeply rooted self-image as morally superior to her enemies. So what does she do instead? She deflects blame. She's the one with the dragons, but if she makes the sky fall down on people, as she puts it, it's not her fault. Keep that in mind.

Now for the absolute low point:

youtube

"What did I say would happen if you told your sister? [...] She betrayed your trust. She killed Varys as much as I did. This was a victory for her. Now she knows what happens when people hear the truth about you."

Okay. Varys was conspiring against Dany, which he could've chosen not to do; I guess Dany was within her rights to punish him. She still could've chosen to imprison him, or at least give him a trial. Nobody made her kill him. But as we've just seen, Dany doesn't like to accept responsibility for her own decisions. She'd rather deflect the blame onto the people who displease her.

What's more, she's not just blaming Sansa for Varys's death but Jon as well, for telling Sansa the secret in the first place - which Jon was well within his rights to do! He never agreed not to tell anyone. That wasn't up to Dany to decide in the first place. Jon did what he wanted to do and not what she wanted him to do, so now everything Dany does as a result of Jon's actions is Jon's fault? Do I even need to explain how shitty this is?

"Far more people in Westeros love you than love me. I don't have love here. I only have fear."

This is entirely true. She never stops to think about why Jon is more beloved in Westeros than she is, but whatever. What's important is that after this, Dany initiates a kiss and Jon rebuffs her.

(Gifs from snowsource)

"Alright then. Let it be fear."

Again, what exactly do we think she's implying here? Remember the context. During this conversation, Jon already told her "you will always be my queen". He hasn't rejected her as his queen (which at this point he damn well should), he's just rejecting her sexual advances. And yet, Dany's reaction to his personal rejection of her is to embrace "fear", which again refers to how all of Westeros sees her, not just Jon. Dany already deflected blame for her previous actions onto people who displeased her including Jon, and now she's deflecting the blame for her future actions in the same way. And we all know what she did after this, don't we? I don't know how the line "let it be fear" can mean anything other than "you rejected me and that's why I'm going to embrace being feared, so whatever I do now in the name of being feared is really your fault. Look what you made me do." If that isn't abuse, I don't know what is.

#anti jonerys #anti-jonerys #anti daenerys targaryen #anti daenerys #anti-daenerys #jon snow #game of thrones #got #asoiaf #abuse tw #emotional abuse tw

157 notes · View notes

minus-plus-zer0 · 10 months ago

Text

Beauty Pageant Headcanons

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

You entered the U.A. Cultural Festival's beauty pageant, with Bakugou acting as your coach.

How the hell did this happen? Well, you both lost a bet with Ashido, that's how.

The girl ships you two pretty hard, and although she doesn't always say it directly, it's obvious from her behavior. She rigged the bet in her favor just to get you together like this.

Bakugou's livid, but you hold him back from committing murder. You're really good at keeping Bakugou out of prison, it's like your second Quirk at this point.

So instead Bakugou turns his attention to you, and he starts ranting about how it's not TECHNICALLY murder if they don't find the body, but you're not having it and you're really just fighting for Ashido's life here.

Ashido knows not to invest in life insurance, but instead to invest in YOU. That's why she's letting you deal with this while she scurries into hiding for the foreseeable future.

Anyways, you and Bakugou are stuck together. Lucky you!

He's blaming you for this, since he knew it was a trap by Ashido. But you were just too cute and sweet, too willing to go along with whatever Ashido was planning, and that's what got you into this mess. He's really trying to convince you to not defend her at every chance, like you do with EVERY Bakusquad member he attacks, but it's hard to find his arguments persuasive when her life is in mortal peril, so you dismiss his anger pretty easily.

He HATES having his anger dismissed, and this only makes him more pissed. You try to calm him down, like you always do, all sweetness and smiles.

You're actually not even 100% against the idea of entering a beauty pageant, so it was easier to convince you than it was to coerce Bakugou into even being here. He can't understand your giddiness right now, it's more confusing to him than Ashido's.

But Bakugou is yelling your ear off while you check out the various clothes available on the clothing rack. You're trying to find something real cute and your style, but there's nothing that catches your eye. You're still looking through the racks and you're a little worried nothing is gonna look good on you.

Bakugou notices you worrying and he criticizes a lot of the outfits available here. He's got an eye for fashion, given that his parents work in the industry. But he usually doesn't pay attention to fashion magazines, models, beauty pageants, it's all stupid useless shit to him. That's another thing you disagree on.

But you're a bit embarrassed about wearing any of these outfits around him, knowing he's so critical. Regardless, he's grabbing some clothes off the rack and pushing them towards you and directing you to the changing room to try it on. Shyness be damned.

You put on the first outfit he gave you, but it's showing a bit too much skin and you're wondering what the heck was running through his mind while he picked this.

He's telling you to show yourself already so he can judge it but you're no fool. You say you can check it over yourself haha, no need to see this and to embed it into your memory forever haha!

Well he doesn't agree. "Stop being shy and get over here!"

"Make me!"

He can't exactly do that, now can he? He's flustered at the thought.

"...Can you please come out? I won't fucking judge you, alright?"

'Please' is a rare word coming out of his mouth, and you're one of the few he tells it to. So you do as he asks.

You emerge from the changing area, wearing the outfit he picked. He's checking you out in a thoughtful and not creepy way.

"That one doesn't work," he says, paying no attention to your offended expression. "Try the next one."

This goes on for the next few outfits. You didn't know what he was looking for, but he wasn't getting it. To be honest, you weren't really fond of how some of the outfits looked on you either, which made the whole thing more disappointing. Your earlier giddiness is gone.

"Can we stop?" you ask. "It feels like I'm ugly no matter what I'm wearing."

Bakugou opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. He looks like he's thinking his next words over carefully. Then, the words fall right out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"You're NOT ugly. They're all gorgeous, but none of them are the best. We need the best to win."

You're shocked he just called you 'gorgeous', but he's shoving you back into the changing room before you can keep looking at his embarrassed face.

After trying on some more outfits and being repeatedly shoved around by a red-faced Bakugou, you emerge one final time. Still red, Bakugou is now grinning like a serial killer and you hope that means good things.

"Perfect." Bakugou's grabbing your hand and he's pulling you out of the dressing room. "We gotta go practice your routine!"

Before you can even comment on his reaction, you're at an adjacent private training ground for contestants. You're distracted by trying to get him all tomato-faced again. You're pinching his cheeks saying "Where did that other guy go? The one whose face could change colors? You looked so similar, was he your cousin?" but Bakugou's warding you off and telling you to work on your form.

You spend a few hours perfecting it until Bakugou's finally happy. By the end, you're questioning Bakugou about why the heck he even cares so much, but he's telling you that it's getting late and you both should shower and get some dinner.

Post-shower and dinner, you're looking around for Bakugou who's been avoiding you all evening. You're a little hurt. You text him asking him why he's ignoring you. He finally texts back, saying he's not ignoring you and to come over.

You're allowed into his dorm room, and he's waiting for you on the balcony. He's out here alone in the dark, with the balcony lights on and with nothing but his phone. His screen shows your texts.

You take a seat beside him and then pinch his cheeks.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For avoiding me like I've caught a disease! Bakugou, I thought we were buddies?"

He's grumbling to himself. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, dummy."

"Then what were you doing?"

He's looking away from you and you're trying to catch his expression. Then, he finally meets your gaze, embarrassed but determined.

"I know you care a lot about this crap, and it'd make you sad if I didn't even fucking try to help out. It's not my fucking thing, but I'll make sure you win."

He looks a little torn before he says the next thing.

"Because I love you, alright?"

You're kissing him now and he's shocked, you almost wish you could've taken a photo of that cute flabbergasted face before he pulls you in by the collar, kissing you back. It's his first kiss and you stole it right from under him, and he couldn't be happier.

The big day comes. You've prepared as much as you can with your (now) boyfriend the night before. Ashido is nowhere to be found, she'll likely in the crowd somewhere.

You complete your routine as planned, it's very cute and it's very you, but it wasn't a crowd favorite. Nejire ends up winning anyways. Bakugou doesn’t get it, all he’s seeing is you after the contest is over, happy as hell he picked out that outfit for you because you look great in it as he's kissing you passionately.

To him, he still knows you're the best in his heart, and that's what matters most. He's happy knowing that he got you and that Ashido's days are still numbered.

You enjoy the rest of the Cultural Festival, and you and Bakugou make sure to find some private alone time now and again…

Until Ashido texts you, saying "So have you asked him out yet?"

197 notes · View notes