#it will be done I promise I was really busy last week

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror............Part XV

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length)

Summary: The chaos surrounding the death of Macrinus keeps Letha and Geta apart much longer than either of them expected. Geta has an urgent question for Letha.

Warnings: make-up sex, and a shitty understanding of ancient Roman procedures around rule, 18+ only.

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 15 of 15!

[ Part XIV ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: I would like to preface this by saying thank you for reading this self-indulgent slop. I hope you got some small amount of enjoyment out of it. Your comments along the way kept me engaged enough to actually finish this. It's the first thing I've ever started writing that I actually feel like I finished. There's so much I could've added to this post-reunion that this would've never been done. I could always embellish at a later date if anyone wanted it. I'm also a bit sad to finish this because I don't have anything to look forward to now. Thank you for your time and attention. It means a lot.

Also, mea lux is 'my light' I believe.

Almost two weeks passed before Letha laid eyes on Geta again.

It was prevented by a combination of things. There had been so much to deal with after the incident in the gardens. Geta had been embroiled in meetings, debating things Letha wasn’t privy to. There was a ceremony for Ancus, to honor him for his efforts to protect his Emperors. And at every party, everyone was so desperate to show face to their Emperors, to remind them of their loyalty in wake of the exposure of Macrinus’s plot. 

Though she wasn’t invited to any official meetings or ceremonies, there were situations where she could’ve sought Geta out at these fetes and events. But she didn’t. She was scared to have that conversation that needed to happen. 

She knew she was still treated as a guest in the palace. More like a fixture, really, available to distract Caracalla whenever the burden of rule grew too tiresome with more poetry, read under the shade of a tree in the gardens, Ancus always nearby. But aside from that, she felt quite restless. 

It’s not as if she expected things to go back to how they were, but she didn’t think it would be this hard to put her thoughts together. Leaving the gardens that evening, neck still sore, she was imagining how she’d look over at Geta the next morning and fervently apologize, for all of it. She’d tell him she would understand if he sent her away, and he would assure her that he wouldn’t dream of it.

But the next morning she couldn’t leave her bed, paralyzed by this new fear. She’d gotten a chance to see what her relationship with Geta could be, she didn’t know what she would do if it was not that. And the possibilities he’d promised her most certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t happen anymore. She stewed in the hesitance, the uncertainty, until she became convinced that it absolutely would be different. No matter what different meant, she was sure it wouldn’t be good.

And so it continued, Letha skipping mealtimes that used to be routine, bumping into servants gossiping on her way into the kitchens to eat. Occasionally she heard her name on their tongues, her appearance causing them to freeze as if Letha were Medusa herself. Not wanting to make a scene, she’d just duck right back out, resolving to return later.

Caracalla assured her his brother was just being kept very, very busy in the wake of the subterfuge and death of Macrinus, but she couldn’t help but feel like it was a little intentional. 

What did you expect, honestly?

She didn’t know why she was still allowed to wander the palace, as if she were back to being a guest. There were no guards posted outside her room, and for the last week she spent her evenings in the gardens, observing the moon, asking no one in particular what happens next.

She wasn’t naive, she knew Tegula didn’t trust her. And nothing spread faster than a salacious rumor. They weren’t so foolish as to speak poorly of their Emperor, so they resorted to tarnishing her reputation instead. She was a witch, had steered Macrinus to his end, was desperate to attach herself to the divinity the Emperors were entitled to.

It was ridiculous. If she had such powers, she sure wouldn’t have suffered all this. 

It was all just more fuel for her suppositions, perpetuating her unhappy cycle until she felt like it would be better if she just snuck out one night. She could become a ghost story. But against all odds, she still carried hope that the next day would be different. 

As for Geta, well, Geta was trying to prevent an economic collapse. Some part of him thought Letha might think poorly of him if he let the empire fall around them because he would rather be locked up in his rooms, curled up in her. Because that was what he wanted. But he had a duty, a responsibility to steer this monstrous empire in a direction he could have heirs in. Perhaps the danger had put things into perspective.

Listening to the senators describe just how involved Macrinus had been in arming their voracious armies became more and more painful as they dove into the minutiae of complex accounts and processes he never bothered to pay attention to before. It was overwhelming. But he knew their efforts were working. Still, there were moments where he’d trade it all for those eyes on him again. 

What little free time he had was spent trying to avoid Letha, because he needed hours, days, uninterrupted, for him to spill his heart to her. A few minutes here and there wouldn’t be enough to relay any of the complex emotions he felt. He couldn’t avoid her forever, though, because there was a certain conversation that had to happen. He needed to know where he stood with her before he picked a particular path to tread down.

So that was why he stalked the gardens that evening, waiting for her to appear for her nightly stargazing. And as he watched her spread out the emerald-dyed linen on the grass, he felt calm. Almost peaceful. He let himself forget the weight of all that had happened, the guilt, too. Everything they’d all been through. 

Well, not everything.

“You should have run far away from here,” Geta spoke, disturbing her peace. 

Letha looked over her shoulder, her breath held in her lungs as she appraised him. It almost felt like the first time. The first time she saw him and admitted against her better judgment that he was beautiful.

The moonlight glinted off the laurels and the golden chestplate he still wore, though the ceremony had long been over. His hair was shiny, neat, framing his fair face. His deep, dark eyes, still lined in crimson, were locked on her.

He looked close to divine standing there in the golden armor, easily one of the most opulent things she’d ever seen. He somehow looked taller, broader, in the armor. Untouchable, too. 

It was so late in the evening, he should’ve changed. He should be in bed. Anywhere but here.

No more hiding. 

“I was locked in a cell, I wasn’t running anywhere.”

He surprised her by sitting beside her on the blanket, the ceremonial armor quite uncomfortable to lay down in. He kept his arms slung around his knees, the bindings of the tall sandals flexing over his shins as he joined her in staring up at the large moon.

“What about after?” After Macrinus. “You’ve had no chaperone for well over a week now.”

Letha felt her stomach twist. “I’ve thought about it.”

“But?” Geta supplied, turning his head away from the splendor of the night sky to peer down at her where she laid out beside him. A challenger to the celestial might hanging above.

“You know there would be no point.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

She rolled her eyes, a treasonous activity if done by any other, but it filled Geta with warmth, bringing the beginnings of a smile to his lips. It all felt so familiar.

“There’s something that is keeping me here. Besides the fact I wouldn’t last a day out there with nowhere to go.”

“I dared to hope,” he admitted, taking her own admission and shoving it into the cracks that were slowly mending, a makeshift mortar.

She looked over at him, a line forming between her brows as she studied him, thinking very hard about what to say next. He reached down with a finger, gently pressing at the center of her brows, pushing away the line.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, the pressure of his closeness becoming overwhelming. 

“No,” he shook his head, moving his finger lower to press to her lips, silencing any further unnecessary apologies. “It is forgiven.”

Letha felt relief, could feel a tear forming at the corner of her eye. But she didn’t want to cry, not now. She recalled her apology muttered into his hair that day. He’d told her ‘no’ then too. 

“Do you still care for me?” he asked, his voice low.

“Of course I do,” she whispered, feeling the tear slide down the side of her face. 

He noticed it, moving his fingertip to wipe away the trail before resting his hand on the ground beside her head. He licked his lips, staring at her, all his weight bearing down, as if daring himself to collapse onto her. 

As much as he might have enjoyed frolicking beneath the stars, removing this armor was not a graceful job, even for two. 

“I want to show you something.” He pushed off the ground and sat up, the haze of him dispersed. She made herself sit up, kept her eyes on him as he stood up. He could feel a swarm of bees in his stomach moving angrily as he held a hand out for her to help her to her feet.

There was a split second of indecision and he nearly faltered, but her tight grip on his hand was a balm, immediately settling his nerves. As she leaned down to gather up the blanket, he tugged her hand, urging her to leave it. 

Geta  lifted the small chest off his desk and carried it over to where Letha sat on the side of the chaise in his room. It sank into the plush seat and she looked up at him, surprised. 

“It’s quite heavy.”

“I can manage just fine,” he smiled, his teasing tone returning.

It was so easy to get caught up in his magnetism. She wondered if he knew he possessed such a thing.

“Go on,” he urged. “Open it.”

She obeyed, pushing up the lid, exposing a rich ruby interior, the box created to house this one ornate bauble. Laurels, golden and sparkling. There were small, dazzling red gems hidden among the leaves here and there.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reaching in to run a finger along one of the gilded leaves. “Seems a bit small for you,” she admitted.

“It is,” he confirmed. 

“Well I think Caracalla will love it,” she smiled, lowering the lid. “It’s a thoughtful gift.”

Geta reached down, pulling it back open. There was a look in her eyes that gave him pause, all the smiles and teasing forgotten. As if she knew already what he was about to say. To ask.

“It’s not for my brother.”

His words sent an icy chill down the center of her back, forcing her to sit up a bit straighter. He was already moving away, pacing.

“I have been busy, Letha,” he admitted. “I’ve spent more time with the senators than I can possibly stand. And in exchange for those long hours, I got this.”

“Geta, I—”

“Don’t feel like you need to say yes right now. Just promise me you will think on it. I know these last couple of weeks have been difficult, we’ve had a hell of a time trying to navigate—”

Letha stood and walked over to him as he rambled. She reached up and curled her fingers around the collar of the chestplate, pulling him down by it, pressing her lips to his. 

Geta recognized the action immediately, bringing one of his hands up to cover hers where she held the armor, moaning against her lips. He pulled her in by the small of her back with his free hand. Her necklace clattered against the metal plate until it was muffled by the press of her against him. 

He could not get near enough air into his lungs. He felt dizzy, incoherent, his blood at once diluted but also thickened, leaving his limbs feeling heavy with a honeyed sludge passing through his veins. The pressure of her hauling him down to her eager mouth by the bronze plate persisted in his brain, in his gut, and he suspected he would relive it for the rest of time. 

“Letha,” he breathed, his palm pressing to her heated cheek. “You can take time,” he offered, though he would be lying if he said he was satisfied with this and nothing more.

“I’ve taken it,” she replied quickly, releasing the armor. 

Before the dissatisfaction crept in, he felt her fingers at his side, brushing the underside of his arm that he immediately lifted. She worked at the buckle, pulling the leather free before moving down to the woven golden string keeping both halves together. 

Once his brain caught up to hers, he pulled at the cords holding the pauldrons over his shoulders, the both of them picking up speed as an unspoken sense of urgency grew in the silence. It all hit the floor with a loud clattering, the pteruges joining it not long after. 

Free from the weight of the heavy armor, Geta reached for Letha’s neck, pulling her into him, groaning against her lips as he attempted to make up for lost time.

As he held her, he realized she was working herself out of her dress. It was bunched up on her shoulders by the time he looked down. The next chance she got, the two of them needing air, she threw it off over her head. 

“I would have gotten to that,” he breathed, allowing himself to look her over. 

“Like I said, I’ve taken it.” she spoke with intention. He felt it low in his belly.

She got to spend only a moment more on her feet before he collected her in his arms and carried her to the bed. She let out a laugh as she sank into the plush arrangement of silks and pillows. He stared down at her, feeling that blooming of warmth in his chest that only she gave him.

 “What are you waiting for?”

As the words left her lips, Geta threw off the white tunic and joined her, crawling up her body to seal his lips to hers, finally allowing the weight of him to press her down into the bed. He had missed this. Her skin, already hot beneath his hands, her movements only drawing him in further, seeking his touch, his lips.

It had been a long couple of weeks.

He felt her bring a leg up around his hip and he reached for it, fingers digging into her thigh as he rutted against her. The ragged moan that left his throat said more about his desperation than anything else.

The tension in his arm trying to hold him up off of her was too much to ignore. He turned onto his side, clinging to her thigh, slowly bringing her with him until he was on his back. As she settled in this new position, she looked down where they met, a bashful smile on her face.

He couldn’t deny the wonder that overtook him at the sight of her above him, the way her mussed hair hung around her face, a few strands now loose. She was radiant, even in the night. Her nervous smile took hold in his chest, and he knew then that he would make it his goal to continue to find ways to draw that same smile from her. 

“I missed you,” she admitted, eyes cast down to the expanse of his torso beneath her hands. “I thought we might never…”

“Letha, you possess me.” Her eyes widened, her body frozen in his hands. “I think that was why it hurt so much to be separated from you.” He shifted his hips, forcing heat into her cheeks. “And I owe you an apology.”

“It is forgiven,” she insisted.

He shot her a look. “I could have lost you. It was cruel and impulsive.”

“We are fortunate your brother had the good sense to intervene, then.”

“Please, do not speak of my brother right now,” he pleaded, squeezing her thighs. 

She laughed at him, covering his hands with hers. “Let me distract you,” she offered, bringing his hands up higher, his fingers skimming her belly before she pressed his palms into her breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his hands squeezing her soft skin. 

She ground herself down on him, using him, the sight filling him with desire for her. How he ever got pleasure from anyone else, he could never know. This was all he ever needed. He could only thank the gods, the fates, whoever brought her to him. 

She surprised him as she swung her leg over him, leaving him there in the bed, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as the air hit his slick-wet cock.

Letha felt a bit unsteady on her feet as she walked through his room. She was ready to show him that she would take on the mantle, the responsibility of keeping him sated and happy. 

Possessed him? She would never get over it. 

She found the chest and lifted the lid, reaching down for the delicate crown. Even in the dim light it sparkled. Her prize in hand, she set it on her head and nearly sprinted back to Geta.

He still laid in the middle of his bed, a vision of long limbs and pale flesh. At the sound of her feet padding on the floor he craned his neck, his large brown eyes passing over her, lingering on her head, where the crown sat precariously.

His full lips parted in a grin. “Eager to fulfill your duty, Empress?” he questioned, his voice low with desire. He held his hands out for her, helping her return to her place astride his hips. 

“Do you like it?” she asked a bit bashfully, her hands leaving his to steady the crown in her hair.

He let out a deep breath. “Mea lux,” he smiled, reaching up to pull her down to his chest, “you spoil me.” He stole a kiss from her lips before he reached up to adjust the crown so it would sit more securely on her head. She leaned into every touch, relishing the sensation of his large hands on her skin, skimming, gripping, squeezing.

She was so overwhelmed by him that she didn’t notice him preparing to shove into her, her only warning a quick swipe of him through her slick. They let out matching sighs as he filled her, like this was all they needed. Letha sat up, a hand pressed against his abdomen for support as she reacclimated to him. 

“W-What exactly are the duties of an Empress, Geta?” she asked. His hips snapping up forcing a wanton moan to leave her lips. 

His flush extended from his face and ears down to his chest. “Besides the obvious?”

She nodded, shifting her hips, moving on instinct, eager for relief. 

He grunted, letting his head fall back. “Well,” he began, bucking his own hips up slightly to reward her. “You will sit with me in all the boring meetings. We will suffer together.” 

“Mhmm,” she moaned, nodding. “I can do that.”

“You will advise me, keep me in line,” he grunted. “Tell me when I’m being a fool.”

“I will relish every chance I get,” she grinned, chasing her pleasure.

“Don’t look so excited,” he chuckled, biting his lip. 

She felt her thighs burning, but she didn’t dare stop, the coil pulling ever tighter. “What else?”

“You will guard my heart, Letha,” he breathed, his eyes meeting hers.

Her hips stilled. 

Geta flipped them, bringing his face down to hers. She ran her hands up his sides, over his shoulders, tangling in his hair as he kissed her. She relaxed beneath him, her legs wrapping around his hips as he drove into her at a steady pace. 

“Can you do that?” he asked, meeting her eyes. 

“Haven’t I been already?” 

He blinked down at her, absorbing her words. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she echoed, pulling his face down to hers.

In the kiss, he quickened his pace. She felt like she was falling apart in his hands, unable to form more words. He reached down between them, his fingers finding home in the apex of her thighs, his nose brushing against hers as he urged her to her release.

She clung to him desperately, choked gasps leaving her throat as he pressed his lips against it. She clenched around him, the coil finally snapping and giving way for her hard-earned release. He pushed her through it, her hands squeezing his hips in an effort to slow him down, too sensitive. 

He sat up, pulling her to him by her hips, grunting as he pounded into her.

“Is giving you an heir part of my duties as well?”

He laughed. “Not a requirement, but–” He cut himself off, burying himself in her as he fell on top of her, pulsing into her. “–a perk.”

He settled on top of her, his lips pressing to hers before he buried his face in the side of her neck. She held him close, running fingers up and down his back, enjoying the warmth of him despite all the sweat. 

“I would stay like this forever,” she sighed, trying to fight off the exhaustion she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was sleep now that she had him back.

“I have no pressing business for two days, mea lux. You’re not leaving this room,” he spoke into her skin. “And when we do, we will be wed.”

She felt nervous, but optimistic. “Should we not have waited until after for this then?”

He lifted his head, his warm eyes settling on hers. Full of love and mirth. “Oh, no, dear Letha. I believe you said you have already taken your time to think,” he winked, “and I would not deprive my Empress of anything.”

[ fin ]

Thank you for reading!

[castleskies]

how it was it will never be again

Two weeks after Elgar'nan is defeated, the Veilguard dismantles – or, I listened to the new SYML album.

Spoilers for Veilguard's ending, ft. Rook de Riva and romanced!Lucanis.

Someday I'll get this on A03 (if you'd like to see it there instead, let me know!)

i.

Emmerich is the first to leave. He has, after all, proper duties to attend to as a professor in the Grand Necropolis. One might argue that his job is even more in demand, with the recent conclusion of events. The party that escorts him is sizable – Rook follows him to the eluvian in the Crossroads; Manfred is personally ferried by Assan, who's taken a shine to the spirit. (Emmerich's worried, but Manfred's so pleased that he can't find it in him to discourage it.)

Rook had thought that Manfred might take the parting harder; but it's Emmerich, who tries for a "My dear Rook–" only to warble at the end that does. Rook tilts her head as she waits for the professor, normally eloquent, to continue; and when nothing else is said, she does what a Crow does best – takes action, by drawing him into a hug (for after everything he's done, a hand stretched into the Fade for her, this feels too little; not enough.)

Beside, Manfred makes a sound of an excited hiss.

Rook draws him into a hug, too.

ii.

It's Taash who leaves, next. The Lords of Fortune don't rest long – always in search of more gold and glory – and their time with the Veilguard is borrowed, after all. Taash forbids any crying or tearful farewells, which is to say everyone is made to be on their best behavior, otherwise.

Rook finds them lingering in Harding's room, the day before they're meant to leave.

"No tears," Taash warns; and Rook smiles the way she's been smiling, worn and wry with lines around her mouth that's sunk a little deeper, after all this time. "I was just going to say the room still smells like cheese, actually," which in turn causes Taash to get misty eyed instead. There's a shared sorrow that hangs between the two of them; the way that Taash is Rivaini and proud but no pride can bear an unending grief for long.

Rook says nothing else, and leaves them there.

They part at the Hall of Valor – Rook smartly sneaks out before Isabela can convince her to go in the ring for one more round.

iii.

Davrin is a man of duty – and while the Grey Wardens arguably have no further purpose, the griffons are still in need of care.

Still, it doesn't make his departure any easier. Davrin takes little with him; leaves more behind, really, a lifetime accustomed to traveling light. Arlathan promises a home, but Rook has a nagging sensation that he won't stay in one place for long – not with the promise of a detective agency opening in Miranthous with Neve, or Bellara's declaration that she'd come by and Rook has no doubt Davrin will be put to work.

Rook thinks he'd enjoy it – keeping busy, doing things with his hands; she'd miss watching him whittle wood while petting Assan in his quarters. He seems to realise it too, pressing a small wood figurine into her palm before he goes. It's easy to overlook how well Davrin sees a person and knows them. It's always been easy to be in his company.

Rook glances down; there's a chess piece of the Tower that he's carved himself. "Don't be a stranger, Rook," he says, as Rook's fingers wrap around the wood figurine. "You bet."

Assan nips her fingers playfully. No tears, Taash had said; but she might have snuck one against the griffon's feathers in a parting hug.

iv.

Neve doesn't quite declare that she's leaving. Instead, she comes for breakfast one day with her bags and a look that Rook can't miss. Lucanis' hands her a coffee for the road – probably the best one you'd get for a while, he says almost exasperatedly, and it sparks a laugh from Rook and a roll of eyes from the detective.

"He's good for you, too," she says slyly, and Rook mirrors Lucanis' exasperation as she shakes her head; never the last word, not with Neve involved, and Rook doesn't examine too deeply how well the detective sees her and the absence of laughter, since – "you stay out of trouble, now."

As Neve shimmers out of sight through the eluvian, Rook is struck with the notion that everyone she started this journey with has left –

v.

But she turns and finds herself embraced: it's Lucanis who draws her close, having come with her as he has, everytime; and walks her back to the Lighthouse.

vi.

Bellara is among the last to leave because she simply cannot pass up the opportunity to be in The Fade for just a little longer – though her relationship with it is strained from the scars of the blight, an invisible undercurrent that perpetually hums beneath her skin even after everything. But Arlathan needs her; Bellara has duties that she holds dear.

"You have to come visit," Bellara all but invokes the promise out of her, sealed with hooked pinky fingers. Bemused, Rook latches on a little longer, and tries to ignore the sting of Bellara leaving.

"Show me Arlathan," Rook says at last, as she withdraws her hand. "The future that you'll make."

vii.

Rook knows that Lucanis has been delaying his departure for her. It's not lost on her that the First Talon is in demand; and now that gods are slain (twice over!) his services have only become more coveted, for the right price. He says he can stay as long as he can put off the Crows, but if Viago's latest letter indicates anything –

Idiot, it begins with, as if he is not addressing a Hero of the Veilguard (or so the Minrathous papers write).

– it is that the Crows give no respite for rest.

"First Talon." Rooks attempt lacks Davrin's gravitas, but draws Lucanis' attention all the same. Her fingers are threaded through his hair as he lies next to her; she smiles, wry, at the attention. "Can't put the Crows off forever."

Which is to say – he'll have to leave, tomorrow. They will return to Treviso; pick up pieces of a life that's been all but put on hold – since Viago had sent her away; since the Ossuary had held him under. Things aren't the same as they were back then, but it's not a bad thing.

Things are changing; she knows he wants it to.

viii.

It's Lucanis who asks, this time, as they stand before the eluvian into the Cantori Diamond.

"I have you."

It's Rook who takes his hand, and squeezes it. "You do."

[khytal]

I don't think I'm finishing my yearly asougi redraw tonight but it'll be my first art post of the new year for sure o7

[girlitfeelsgood]

talked to someone at a party and she promised she'd reach out to me so we could hang out (after I mentioned directly how much I struggle with that stuff) and she didn't and a few months later I meet her at another party and she again promises she'll reach out (she brought it up herself - I never said anything about her not contacting me- and sounded very sincere about how she was sorry and that she did want to hang out but anxiety had stopped her from reaching out) and she still hasn't 😭 and I thought I'd see her other friend on midsummer so I could talk to her but now it seems she won't be there so now I feel like I need to be brave and just message her myself but I am so bad at conversations through texts and also my brain is trying to convince me that she didn't contact me again because she wants nothing to do with me even though that really didn't seem to be true 😭😭😭

[therealmylesmorales]

Don’t Take It Personal

Summary: you’re a little worried about how much time Vi is spending with her new friend

Part 2

Warnings: vi’s kind of a dumbass, ngl. Angst probably. R plays a sport for the plot (just vibe guys) loser!vi au

WC: 1.6k

Vi made a new friend.

That was a rare feat for her, seeing how out of the few people she considers a friend included you, her girlfriend, and Jinx, her sister.

She came home beaming after her usual workout at the gym. There was a new face she didn’t recognize and to Vi’s surprise, the friendly chat turned into a new friendship.

Her name was Caitlyn Kiramman. You knew her name, seeing the title “Kiramman” around a few buildings. Caitlyn was studying abroad for a few months, hence why Vi didn’t meet her until now. And yet, the new friendship was blossoming quickly. You didn’t mind, just happy that she managed to make more friends without you being present.

That was until Vi started hanging out with her more than you.

Srry, babe cant make it. At the gym wth Cait 💪🏻

11:23am

You frowned a bit at the recent text Vi sent you. You were at the library waiting for her for your weekly study date but when she was almost half an hour late you finally texted her. Only for your girlfriend to take a raincheck. Again.

Seeing how Vi wasn’t showing up, you still decided to stay for at least another hour; work still needed to be done with or without her. When you did decide to leave, you had to pass by the gym in order to go home. You figured Vi was still inside so you didn’t bother to linger until you heard a familiar voice.

”I’ll see you around, cupcake!”

Cupcake?

You turned to see Vi and Caitlyn leaving the large building. Vi immediately saw you and rushed over to you. Caitlyn gave you a polite wave before going her own way.

She was calling her ‘cupcake.’ You felt a little irritated at the—at your— nickname Vi called Caitlyn. Granted, ‘cupcake’ wasn’t one that was used very often, only when Vi was teasing or being purposely irritating to you. But still. It was your name.

Pushing the negative feelings aside you greeted Vi with a kiss. She smiled into it then pulled you into a tight hug, her arms almost crushing you.

”You stick, Vi,” you muttered into her neck.

A soft laugh escaped her. “You enjoy it. What are you doing here?”

”Going home. Then I saw you and…cupcake.”

”Don’t be like that,” Vi groaned, trying to play it off. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Never said you did.” You tried to change the subject, not wanting to make it a big deal. “Are you going to my game Friday or are you going to be too busy with Caitlyn. It’s the last one of the season, Vi.”

“Hey, have I ever missed a game before?” She asked rhetorically. ”But if it makes you feel better, I promise that I’ll be there.”

”Good.”

Vi then wrapped her arm around you, putting you in an almost headlock, and started walking in the direction of the same apartment. “Let’s go. I’m exhausted.”

While what Vi said did ease some of you worrying, it didn’t stay for long. For the rest of the week, Vi was still with Caitlyn. Even though you attended most of the same classes, and stayed in the same home, you only saw her in passing or for only an hour at night. And every word that came out of her mouth was about the other girl.

“I really think you’ll like Cait, she reminds me of you.”

“Caitlyn squatted 210 today! She’s catching up to me.”

”I’m sorry, baby. Cait and I made plans to see that movie. You can still come!” You hate to admit it but that comment made you pissed off more than anything.

Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn. You haven’t even properly met the girl yet it seemed like you knew everything about her.

When Friday finally came, you just hoped Vi would pay more attention to you rather than her friend. Unfortunately, you were proven wrong.

Hey, pretty, the game is starting soon. Are you still coming?

6:37pm

Yoooo Viiii??

7:01pm

Violet, dude, where are you??

7:15pm

Your leg tapped nervously against the ground, scanning the crowd for the familiar pink haired girl, but you came up dry. In the crowd you could see Jayce, Viktor and Mel who all gave you encouraging smiles. Even Jinx showed up, sitting next to Ekko. She gave you a small shrug at your questioning glance before turning back to your phone, possibly texting her sister.

The coach got your attention, urging you to join your teammates on the court. And with a heavy, disappointed sigh, you got up from the bench. You couldn’t focus on Vi anymore, but you still hoped that she would show up sometime during the game. She did promise after all.

But throughout the game, that familiar full head of pink hair was nowhere to be seen. There was an empty spot next to Jinx that was never filled. Trying to ignore the wide open space was almost impossible, but the game was won without Vi cheering for you. Sure, the ball did slip from your hands more times than you’d like to admit, but your team won.

Your friends that did decide to show up wanted to take you out for the rest of the night, a congratulatory dinner, but you weren’t feeling it. And while Jinx doesn’t like saying the word no, she surprisingly let you go home after you refused. You really just wanted to see if or when Vi would be home.

It was nearing nine at night and Vi still hadn’t called you and your recent text went unanswered. The TV was playing a show, mostly used as background noise as your thoughts took over you.

Almost thirty minutes later, you could hear some noise coming from the hallway.

The door to the apartment opened and you could hear Vi humming a song to herself when she locked up for the night. From your spot on the couch, you saw nothing wrong with her so you were glad to know she was safe. But now she had to dig herself out of the hole she dug.

Vi actually seemed surprised to see you but the smile she gave you was instant. “Oh, hey, babe. Why are you still up?”

”Waiting for you,” you shot back, moving to get closer to her. “It’s been hours Vi, we all have been calling and texting you—“

Vi showed you her phone, a black screen staring back at you. “It died a while ago. What’s with the third degree?”

”Do you remember what day it is?”

”Um…the tenth?”

”Um, maybe it’s the day of my game that you’d promise to come to,” you mocked. Yeah, you were being petty but you thought she deserved it.

Vi muttered a small curse to herself and she looked genuinely apologetic. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I swear, I was going to come but then my phone died, and-and I was with Caitlyn and—“

A heavy sigh escaped you at the name. “Caitlyn, right yeah. That makes sense.”

A look came on Vi’s face, one you knew too well when she was about to become argumentative. “What are you talking about?”

”You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, Vi,” you pointed out. “I’ve noticed it— we all have. You’re always with her.”

”We’re friends!”

”You’re friends with Jayce but when’s the last time you’ve hung out with him since meeting Caitlyn? Is she too rich for chargers so you couldn’t check your phone for five minutes?”

Vi scoffed at you. “What, you want me to stop hanging out with Caitlyn just because you’re jealous?”

”I have nothing to be jealous of, Violet!” You yelled. “Cait’s a friend, I get that. But you have been blowing me off time and time again for her. And the one time I actually needed you, you were with her instead. How the hell do you expect me to feel?”

A short pause came from Violet. And what she said next, set your skin aflame.

”I just think you’re overreacting. It’s a fucking game, I’ll just watch the next one.”

“Okay, you know what,” you paused, running your hands over your face; it didn’t do much to calm your heated nerves. “I’m not doing this with you, right now, Vi.”

Vi’s tense posture immediately changed at the tone of your voice; it was shaky, as if you were holding back tears. You almost never cried, at least in front of her, so the new sight was worrisome. She heard you breath in harshly before continuing.

“I’m way too upset at you right now to even finish this conversation,” you said quietly to her. “I’m tired…and honestly just want some space from you.”

Vi swore her heart stopped at those words. Space? “You…Y/N, you can’t be serious.” Space was the main thing Vi hated. It meant you leaving her.

”I am, actually.” Your back was turned from her at that point so you couldn’t see her face fall in disbelief at the sight of you getting ready to leave the apartment.

She knew you made up your mind and were done hearing her but Vi still had to try. “Babe, don’t go. You’re right, is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry, alright?”

”Glad you came to your senses,” you muttered, albeit bitterly.

Vi was desperate at this point. “You don’t have to leave! I can sleep out here!”

”When I said ‘space’, Vi, I meant completely,” you said. Your voice was starting to get tense, a tell that you were getting annoyed. “My parents live a few minutes away, remember? I'll be fine.”

”Y/N please, just—“

“Vi! I’ll…talk to you eventually,” was the last thing you said before the door closed behind you.

[snoopyearss]

When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’

Feat. crybaby-ish!reader

Gojo, geto, toji

Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)

This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.

But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary

Anyway, enjoy!

Satoru Gojo

He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.

Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.

“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?

“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.

Suguru Geto

It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.

You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.

He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”

“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”

“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.

He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.

“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.

“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.

“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”

“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.

“Fuck.”

Part 2

[kekewrites]

tw. Dark content, noncon, dubcon, creampie, size kink, magic onahole/toy/fleshlight, coercion, mind-break, corruption, obsession, gaslighting(?), objectification(?)

part 2 of the onahole troupe

***

"Sweetie~ Are you already out? Come on, you can still keep going."

Hot... It's so hot.

Whining, your body continue to bounce on him, hole swallowing his fat cock. Sweat and cum staining your thighs, sticky and wet as it mixes with your juices.

Such a hot sight. His hands gripping your hips, helping you bounce on him and sometimes meeting your hips with his own, making you whine and sob.

You were so sensitive, having no idea how much time have passed. How many orgasm he pulled out of you.

"I'm helping you, remember?" He sat up, wrapping his arms around as he pulls you close. "Ha... You're so cute. That bastard won't touch you anymore, ok? I'm here."

Barely hanging on, you nodded as your ears started to ring. If there was still a rational part of you awake, you would've find his words suspicious, but you were just too dumb for that. Blindly trusting your friend, believing him with your being.

He promised to help you.

So why does it feel like you made the wrong choice?

That tiny rational thought of yours was pushed as you felt his lips on your own.

***

It was odd how the phantom disappeared after his help.

Your complexion improved, the shadows under your eyes fading as if the weight of their presence had been slowly draining you all along. Sleep came easier now, uninterrupted by restless nights and unwanted pleasure, able to focus studying without it whisking your attention away.

Sitting in class, you were finally able to listen without dreading for the touches.t was freeing.

You were glad you told him.

Smiling a bit, you open your cellphone as you think of hanging out with them. You really missed them, thinking about how you three rarely hang out nowadays. It used to be so easy to hang out with your closest friends, without having to plan anything elaborate. Just a quick text, and before you knew it, you were all together. But lately, it was about you two without your more or less busy friend. You know how much he took his studies seriously, often holding back to invite him whenever you discover a film you'd both like to watch.

Determined, you found yourself texting him, sending him a little message of, "Are you busy? Let's meet at the library when it's lunch time!"

You nervously shifted on your sit as you await his reply, a minute after you feel your phone vibrate.

"Sure."

You couldn't wait for the class to be over.

***

"Hey, what's up?" You heard his voice as he sat down beside you. Your usual hangout spot, comfort place, and your solace before those events happened.

Beaming, you turned to him, grateful for the simple presence of someone you're comfortable with.

"Are you done with your studies? I was hoping we could hangout soon, all three of us..." You speak, your confidence dipping down as you let out the last part.

Resting his chin on his hand, "Hmm... We have a quiz for next week in my major," He observes as your smile fades, "But I suppose, I'll make time for you," He swears it's like watching a dog wag its tail as he see you regain your smile.

It couldn't hurt to relax a little, it's been a while since you two hangout. He did notice how you were with that stupid guy in the past few days

You softly clap your hands, "That's great! Oh, we should do a movie marathon!" As you babble your plans, he couldn't help but notice how more... alive you look compared to before. He was still wondering why you were so troubled back then, but he's glad you got it solved out.

Humming, you started typing on the notes in your phone, making plans and listing movies to watch, throwing in snacks to buy as well. It was safe to say that you're really excited to be able to be with your best friends.

It would be just a fun night with the guys, right?

***

"Come on, don't be upset. Something probably important came out that he won't be able to come."

It seems that the three of you wouldn't be able to hangout, as the two of you sit on the couch.

Grumbling, you hug the couch pillow close to your chest as you glance at the text message left by your friend. It was upsetting but you couldn't be that upset since he rarely wasn't able to come in your hangout session, and since he's the one who helped you after all.

"Yeah, you're right. It can't be helped, I guess…" you sigh, trying to hide your disappointment as you sink further into his couch. The soft fabric and cozy atmosphere of his apartment help ease your mood a bit.

"I'm sure the three of us will meet up soon. Plus, the two of us haven't hangout for a while."

Come on, it's not so bad to be alone with him, you know?

"Yeah, that's true," you say, trying to shake off the disappointment. You steal a glance at him as he queues up a movie. It's been a while since the two of you just hung out alone like this, and despite the change in plans, it feels nice.

As the movie starts, you realize he accidentally picked a horror film—complete with dark shadows, creepy music, and plenty of jump scares. You’re both laughing it off at first, but the sudden shocks get you clutching the couch pillow a bit tighter, scooting unconsciously closer to him.

The atmosphere shifts when an unexpected scene appears—a moment that’s more... explicit than either of you anticipated. You feel your face heat up as you quickly avert your eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and tension settle between you. You catch him glancing away too, clearing his throat nervously.

What is he, five? Getting flustered with such scene, not like he hasn't done any worse than it.

"I... think I need to use the bathroom," he mumbles, standing up hastily and heading out of the room, leaving you alone on the couch.

You’re left there, pulse racing slightly as you try to shake off the awkwardness.

This is bad, you suddenly remember all of your other friend's help. Clutching your legs close, you try to avert your attention somewhere while waiting for your friend to come back.

Though, you felt your stomach drop as that familiar and unwelcome touch came up.

***

What the hell is he even thinking?

He tries to find his reason as he stares at the onahole on his hand, that idiot's gift to him. It's been a week since he had last use this thing, yeah it felt good and feels like the real deal but after one use he never touched it again.

So why the hell is he using it while thinking of you? The same girl who's sitting on his couch right now, in his apartment?

His eyes glance at the lube on the counter, putting the wet lotion on his free hand. It's your fault he got hard, you were too squirmy and... cute. That shitty horror movie wasn't even that good with the corny soft porn scenes but you... were just having an effect on him. So damn shy and innocent reactions, he needed to get out before he'd lost his composure and pounce on you.

But he's not a brute, no he isn't like those rabid animals.

Imagining does not count, no, no, he's only letting his frustration out.

So with the touch of his fingers, rubbing the entrance of the onahole he let himself go.

***

Jumping from the couch, you looked around frantically as you felt that horrifying touch on your nether region. 

That's impossible! You though he already fixed it!

Silently crying on your hands, you tried to keep your noises.

You've experienced that ghostly touch countless times however this time, it felt a bit calculative yet desperate, as if another entity was touching you. It felt weird but you can feel how different this one was touching you.

Is there another ghost who's harassing you?

Will it ever go away?

You cried as you felt something big goes inside you.

***

Shit, he forgot how realistic this onahole was. When was the last time he used it? Weeks ago? He doesn't remember but he might use it again now. Since his darling is always inviting him to hangout, this little gift might save him from pouncing on you when you're just a little too cute for his liking. Not only that but because of the hectic projects and assignments coming in, he hasn't had the time to relieve himself.

His thrust is fast and uncaring, yet a bit desperate for release. He felt himself feeling more sensitive as he imagine if this was your cunt instead, squeezing and twitching around his cock. He loves how automated this thing was, his mind just running wild as he imagines you sitting alone in his couch unsuspected of his vulgar and filthy thought of you. It's wrong but it damn this onahole just feels so right.

Slamming himself on the tight hole, he pinch the little clit and felt the walls squeeze tight making him come undone. Hissing and twitching as his cock shoots down his massive load inside the toy. What a waste, it would've been better if he could shoot it down your womb. Exhaling, he slowly pulled out of the toy, savoring the way the wall clung on his shaft before his head pops off.

Fuck. He's really a goner now. 

He's no better than a scumbag for letting his mind wander to thoughts about his best friend, his childhood friend… his first crush, his first and only love. He remembers how he was when you two first met—a boy who struggled to connect with anyone. He didn’t see the point in making friends, preferring to stay on the sidelines, reserved and detached.

Though, him, was the exception as both of their parents were business partners and have good relationship with each other. It's only natural for them to build a connection, solely for maintaining good connections with their business partners. Over time, he realized how strangely alike the two of them were, as if they shared the same quirks and preferences.

Well, he shouldn't think of that while thrusting his dick on a toy but he can't help but reflect on the way they are alike. He certainly knows, that guy shares the same affection he has on you, and he hated how he can't feel jealous because... he's fine with sharing you if it's him. But he's a little pissed at how you two were hanging out lately, he only have himself to blame by taking his studies seriously unlike that guy.

That's not important now, he has you in his room alone with no one else to ruin your moment with him. Shit, he felt the toy tighten around him.

His mind goes blank as he felt himself getting closer.

***

"Hey, sorry I took a while, but I'm... back?" he said, sitting down on the couch. His voice trailed off, quieter and confused, as he noticed you hugging yourself with your head hung low.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, placing a hand on your back as he tried to see your face. His eyes narrowed as he waited for your response, only to widen when he saw your tear-streaked face.

"I-It... touched me again..."

"What do you mean?"

And you broke down, crying as you told him about the phantom.

Any sane person would be skeptical, hell they would probably put you in the asylum for the things you swore happened to you. He'd get you help if it weren't for that one specific detail, an oddly timed and complete coincidence. Where that phantom touched you the same time he had gotten the toy... and the way it touch you just minutes later he went to the bathroom.

No way...

Surely, it was just a coincidence...

He supposed testing that theory wouldn't hurt.

With a lousy excuse of getting you a glass of water from the kitchen, he went straight to the bathroom to take that toy, sure it was big enough to be seen by you, but the way you were staring down on the floor as you quietly sob made it easy to sneakily place the onahole behind the couch pillow. Close for his hand to touch but unnoticeable from your teary eyes.

His hand goes behind the pillow right where the toy is.

"Ah!"

It can't be... Such an impossible story.

"J-Just now... it touched me!"

His finger went in.

"No! It went inside...!"

This is crazy.

He knows it's wrong but watching you panic and look around with frantic and terrified eyes made his cock throb. Not knowing that the source of your trouble being right in front of you made it immoral, so bad, and it made his cock harden.

"Hey, I'll... chase out that bastard for you." His wandering finger pulls out of the toy, his other hand cupping your tear stained cheek, "You don't have to worry anymore. You said that guy made that phantom disappear, right?" He sweetly cooed, a rare tone in his voice, "Just trust me on this one like he'd done with you, yeah?"

Your back gently hits the couch as he straddles you, "Be a good girl and relax, I'm just going to help you."

Doubt and wariness swirls in that doe eyes of yours. He can see the uncertainty in that stupid head of yours, but he knew you'd agree with him. You always do.

"O-Ok... Please help me."

And he's right about that.

You're just too trusting, aren't you? Stupid girl.

It's your fault he's like this to you.

All your fault.

There’s a faint metallic click as his belt buckle comes undone, and the soft rasp of fabric follows as he frees himself from his pants. His cock springs free, the swollen head brushing against your inner thigh. He can't believe he's finally doing this. The girl he ever wanted right beneath him, all bare and for him to ruin.

It's fucked up how he doesn't feel guilty for doing this, doesn't feel guilty as he rubs his tip on your wet entrance. Everything about you is soft, the only thing he's afraid to do is to bruise your pretty skin. He can feel your breathe quicken, you heart thumping in anxiety and he smiles at that.

"I'll be... gentle." For now.

The blunt head nudges against your entrance, the slick heat of your hole enveloping him inch by inch as he presses into you slowly. Fuck. It's completely different from a toy. He wished he'd done it sooner, the walls of your inside and the wall of the toy was like night and day. His cock pulses within them, the heat and tightness driving him to the edge of his patience. Hissing in pleasure as your walls clenched around him.

"So cute..."

With that, he leaned down, his lips pressing against you. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you, owning you, just as his cock claimed your body. He knows he should let you adjust and wait for you to be ready but hell he'd wait for more than a second. Setting a fast pace, fucking into you with abandon, his hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises-- the one he was dreaded on doing. He panted, his head thrown back in ecstasy. 

If it were that easy, he should've done this sooner. Manipulated that stupid head of yours, your naivety being the one who'd get you in trouble when you were younger.

It was different back then when he was alone. Socializing was unnecessary and draining, didn't have any purpose or value to him. He supposed having one friend is enough, he didn’t have patience for others, especially kids his age who, to him, seemed immature and exhausting.

Then you came along with your bright smile, bold laugh, and endearing quirks. You weren’t stunning or wealthy, and your background was humble—a stark contrast to his world. And yet, every time you called him by that silly nickname you made up, something in his chest stirred, an ache he couldn’t ignore. A foolish girl, treating him as if he were just another friend, another kid to play with.

So why can’t he push you away? You're just like any other kid who wants his attention. So why is it so hard to say no to you?

You're the one driving him crazy. So you only have yourself to blame, this is only happening because you're letting him. You're the one doing this to your self.

He could feel the pleasure building, the pressure in his balls as he neared his release.

"Be my onahole, ok?" He demanded, his voice rough with lust. He needed to hear you say it, needed to know that you understood.

Your mind was swirling, head foggy as the pleasure was starting to mix with the confusion. As your cries grew louder, body writhing beneath him, he felt his own orgasm approaching. He could feel the heat building, the tingling in his toes as his balls drew up tight.

O-Onahole? What's that? What is he talking about?

"Everyday, you'll be my onahole." he panted, his words punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the obscene squelch of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. "I'll save you from that phantom, ok?"

I don't know anything....

"Ok?!" he warns, hips losing their rhythm as his climax approaches, "Shit...!"

"Ah! I-I will! I'll become your onahole!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep in your womb. He holds you tight against his chest, grinding into you to prolong the waves of pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so good for me," He praises breathlessly, peppering your sweat-dampened neck with kisses. "Taking my cock so well, milking me dry. That phantom is gone now that I'm with you."

All you could feel was the light kisses trailing on your neck to your cheek and finally on your lips.

"One more time? I mean you are my onahole now."

***

"Wow, you didn't hold one bit eh?"

His eyes narrowed as he saw him standing on the door with a smug grin.

"What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't be able to make it?" His tone accessory as he cleans up the aftermath, gently tucking in your passed out figure on the bed.

"So defensive for what?" He chuckles, sauntering as he glance at your peaceful fresh-fucked face. Such a lovely sight. He  licks his lips at that but for now you'd need to get your beauty rest after a rough day. "So, did 'ya like your present?"

"..."

"I'd take your silence as a yes then." Giggling, he places his hand on his shoulder, "I knew you'd like it I mean, we are similar in taste after all."

His jaw tightens before sighing in defeat, "Where did you even get that toy?"

"Oh, some shady website~! I was planning to buy another one but the website mysteriously disappeared!" He exaggerate his movements which earned a grimace from him.

"Shut up, you'll wake her up."

"No, she won't. You made her pass out, how ungentlemanly of you."

"Says you."

"Whatever, I came to ask you a question," His hand drop to his side, his smug smile still on but something sinister behind it, "So, we're going to share, right?"

The answer should've been obvious but it was hard to let the word out of his mouth. Was it pride or possession?

"Yeah..."

"I knew you'd say that."

"But I want her on Mondays."

"Oh brother, why pick the worst day?" He grunts in disappointment.

"Because it's the worst day, I need her on that day."

[fastandcarlos]

One Domesticated Man : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: lando tries his best to prove to you that he can be a domesticated guy

“If I find one more of your dirty pairs of pants lying around I’m going to swing for you Lando Norris!” 

A mischievous grin appeared on Lando’s face as he heard you shout through the house, watching as you walked into the bedroom to where he was. 

He was busying himself, placing the washing that you had done for him back into his wardrobe, sorting through what he needed to pack with him as he prepared to head off again for the next rest on the calendar. 

“I just forget to pick them up sometimes,” he innocently smiled, “there’s so many other things on my mind, my pants are the least of my concerns.” 

Your eyes rolled as you threw the pants into the washing basket before watching him. His brows were knitted together as Lando tried his best to fold one of his shirts. You watched for a while before snatching the shirt out of his hands, showing him how it was done.  

“I’m learning,” Lando defended as you threw the top into the drawer of his wardrobe. “No one’s ever really shown me how to do all of this stuff, I’ve just had to learn how to do it all on my own.” 

“Lando, you barely do anything,” you sighed, sending him a knowing glance. “When was the last time that you hoovered? Or took the rubbish out for bin collection day?” 

There was a brief pause as Lando let what you said sink in, realising for himself how little he did around the house, watching as you usually darted around and got everything sorted out for the both of you. 

“Remember when I washed up the other day?” 

“What? In cold water, of course I remember.” 

Whilst Lando laughed, your eyes rolled, finding yourself often having to go back and fix things once he’d done them. Lando was far from the most domesticated man in the world, relying on others to get him by with how little time he actually spent at home. 

You folded the last of Lando’s bits before leaving him to it, walking downstairs and into the kitchen as you started to get yourself sorted for preparing dinner. 

Soon enough footsteps followed behind you as Lando joined you in the kitchen, sitting up on the worktop. You could tell straight away that he was bored, following you around like a shadow. 

“How can I help you?” Lando asked as he watched you open up the fridge. “You always sort dinner out, so I want to be able to help you out tonight.” 

Your eyes flickered around to look back at Lando, “is this because of what I said upstairs? It’s alright Lando, go and do something if you want, I really don’t mind.” 

“No, I want to help and do something around here.” 

Your head nodded, opening up the cutlery drawer and taking out a knife, placing it down on the chopping board, tapping it for Lando to move across to. 

“You can be trusted with this, can’t you?” You teased, pointing at the knife. “I’m not going to end up having to drive you to hospital, right?” 

“I’m not completely incompetent babe.” 

You took the vegetables and showed Lando how you wanted them cut, making sure that your instructions were clear, making it impossible for Lando to go wrong. He listened intently to what you had to say, determined to prove to you, and himself, that he could help. 

There were a few nerves as Lando got started, his eyes full of concentration as he chopped things up. He didn’t want to put a foot wrong, it was a simple job, but for some reason Lando felt the pressure. 

“Maybe once we’ve eaten tonight, we could look at building your new desk for your office,” Lando suggested as he stopped for a moment, noticing you freeze beside him. 

“Washing, cooking, building, are you sure that you’re going to cope?” 

Lando’s head nodded, an excited smile on his face, full of encouragement. “I promised you weeks ago I’d build it and I haven’t, it’s unfair to leave you waiting around for it any longer.” 

“Do we have the equipment to build it though?” 

Lando gasped, his head nodding back at you, with his toolbox hidden around somewhere. He wasn’t quite sure when he last used it, but he knew with a bit of a search around he’d locate it. It was an old one, one that his dad gave to him for times like this, one that Lando had very rarely used. 

He could still feel your eyes watching him, doubtful as to how things would go, knowing that construction anything more than Lego was a tricky job for Lando. 

“I can do it,” he assured you, his voice a lot more insistent. “And if I get stuck then I know where you are so you can come and help me.” 

There was a confidence in Lando’s voice that had you trusting him, having done most things yourself, you weren’t going to deprive him of his chance to be a little more domesticated. 

“If you want to help out, I’ve got a long list of things that need doing around the house,” you smiled, walking over and snaking your arms around his waist. “I could keep you entertained for weeks with all these jobs.” 

“You’re right though, I should be doing more to help you,” Lando whispered. 

“You’re busy Lando, when you come home it’s important that you rest,” you replied, resting your head against his back. “I’m not expecting anything from you.” 

You didn’t expect, but Lando did of himself. He’d never thought about how much he contributed around the house, but now that you passed a comment, even just a joke, it definitely had Land thinking. 

“You’re busy too, just because you’re not flying around the world to do it. We’re a team, therefore this house needs to be taken care of by two people,” Lando assured you. 

“If you want to do more, then I guess I wouldn’t mind.” 

Lando nodded as he finished up the job that you had given him, with your body still pressed up against his. He wanted to learn and do more, hoping one day to teach his own child how to do all of the jobs that his dad had taught him to do. 

I really do, more than anything.” 

You could see just how sincere Lando’s eyes were, how serious he was. The thought of you continuing to run around after him was one that made him feel so uneasy. 

“Why don’t we have dinner and then we can build the desk together?” You proposed, “that way you can help out, and we can have fun doing it together.” 

“I’d like that, a lot,” Lando whispered, “I want to be more domesticated, like those men you see in all the movies, the ones who can just figure everything out, can take on a job no matter how big or small.” 

“You want to be a hero?” You teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “What am I supposed to do though if you’re doing all of these jobs for me now.” 

“You can just sit and relax,” Lando instructed, “that’s the least that you deserve anyway, I don’t want you to do anything other than that.” 

“I can just sit and tell you when you miss a bit,” you laughed, “or when you’re not doing a good enough job.” 

“That’s the least that I’d deserve, right?” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[rosenclaws]

Would You Fall In Love with Me Again || Worst!Logan x Reader

Would you fall in love with me again If you knew all I've done? The things I cannot change Would you love me all the same? I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love

warnings: angsty af, happy ending, sad logan.

wc: 1.5k

alternate version

a/n: I heard this song and immediately pictured Logan so this fic was cooked up! I hope y'all like it <3 I'd recommend listening to the song while reading or before or after! Its a great musical btw

Logan holds the small piece of paper in his hands. It's been crumpled and flattened countless times. He turns it over in his hands, the faded black in is just bright enough to read. He glances down at it again. Written on it is an address. Laura's words playing over and over in his head.

Find her. She would want to see you.

Would you? Would you want to see him? He's not the same man that you knew. He's not your man. He's not the hero you remember. He's just a broken, tired, old man. He's a coward.

Laura gave him your address shortly after he came to his world. But he never went. He was afraid. This tiny slip of paper would keep him up at night. If the nightmares didn't get to him first than this stupid, little paper did. He debated on throwing it away.

You didn't need him. You were better off without him. But was he? You were his better half. Always had been. Just one look, a meeting. Closure. So he set off to find you one last time.

Each foot step weighs heavy as he marches to your front door. A small cabin tucked away from the the busy town only a few miles away. This is his handiwork. Logan always promised you that he'd build you a house one day, when you two were done with all the X-Men bullshit.

He had already written out the plans back before...before he lost you. Initials are carved into one of the wood boards. His fingers running over the letters, tracing them as his mind floods with memories of you.

He raises his fist and knocks at your door. His ears straining to hear you move behind the wooden door. Though if you didn't answer he couldn't blame you. He's the ghost of the man you once loved standing on your doorstep. He waits and waits and nothing.

His shoulders sag in defeat. What was he thinking? This was stupid. He takes the paper and crumbles it up in his hands, throwing it as far as he could into the woods.

"Pretty sure that's littering." He freezes at the sound of your voice. He knows it's you. He doesn't need to see your face, this voice had been haunting his nightmares for years.

"Logan?" He nearly falls to his knees. His name sounds so sweet coming from your lips. He hasn't heard it in so long. Ever so slowly he turns around, a part of him afraid this is another dream.

"Is it really you?" You're holding a grocery bag, dressed up for the cold weather. He's frozen as you walk up to him. Your eyes shine with tears as your hand reaches out for him.

"Please tell me its you." Your hand cups his face.

Thumb lightly brushing over his face. He looks different. He looks tired. So much pain behind those gorgeous eyes. He melts into your touch. He clenches his fists at his side as he leans his head into your hand.

"My love, how I've missed you." Logan opens his eyes to see the wedding band sitting on your finger. He never got the chance to give that to you.

"Sweetheart...I'm not the same man." He wishes he was. God he wishes he could sweep you up in his arms. Runaway and live in this cabin for all eternity. You smile softly. Your hand leaves his face and he visibly sinks.

"Come inside yeah?" Without thinking he takes the grocery bag out of your hands and follows you inside. There's not much inside.

"Laura told me about you, she sent letters when she came back." You explain as you reach into the fridge and pull out a beer, his favorite.

"I buy a new pack every week, in case you ever showed up." You smile when you talk but Logan can only focus on the bottle in front of him. The guilt eating him alive.

"I'm so sorry." He chokes out.

"For what?" You ask. He looks at you in disbelief, how could you be so forgiving, so welcoming.

"I'm not your husband. I-I'm not the man you fell in love with." He places the beer on the counter. If he closes his eyes he can picture you and him in this little cabin. Be the family you both always wanted. But he's not yours.

"I know you aren't. I'm not a fool Logan. But..." He's not your husband, he's different. He's not a replacement for the man you once loved but your love for Logan was stronger than anything you've ever felt.

"Would you fall in love with me again? You don't know what I've done. I'm not worthy of the love you gave to him." A tear slips down Logan's face.

He sinks to the ground, on his knees. Silently begging to be loved by you once again. The shame of his past chains him to the ground, he can't even look at you.

"What did you do my love?" You cup his face and tilt his head up.

"I lost you, I lost everyone. I can still smell your blood, I can still hear your voice calling to me. But I walked away." He grabs onto your wrists and holds onto them desperately.

"I walked away from you." You wipe away a tear that falls down his cheeks. His normally stoic face crumbles into a mess of despair and loneliness.

"I needed to numb myself. I started drinking, I started killing. I left a trail of blood in my wake." He expects you to cower away from him. To be disgusted with what he's done.

"Once I started, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I was so angry, so buried in my grief that the only thing I could feel was rage." The grip on your wrists is firm and tight. Not to the point of pain but he's locked around your hands. Please don't leave him again, please.

"Forgive me." You drop his face and it hangs low, ashamed of what he's revealed to you. You've been waiting for him, all this time only to come and disappoint you.

"If you think that's true, that you're not the same man I feel in love with. Then leave."

"W-What?" He's taken aback.

"You want me to leave?"

"I don't want you to leave but you keep saying you're not the same man. So if you truly believe that, than leave." Logan is stunned to silence.

"No." He says without thinking. He's spent every night missing you, thinking of you. You're here in front of him, it's not the same you but he still loves you. He will always love you.

"I can't leave you, I just found you again I...I won't." He stands up and takes your hand.

"This wedding band, I bought it after out first date. I knew, that I was in love with you but I was so scared to lose you." Tears fall down your face as he presses your hand against his face.

"I ended up losing you anyways."

"He told me that story when he proposed." You say softly. He may be from another universe but he will always be the love of your life.

"You asked if I'd fall for you again, how could I not?" He presses his forehead to yours, noses knocking together as you get to take in the man before you.

"I will always love you. I don't care how you got here, where you're from or what you've done. " You close your eyes as Logan wraps you up in his arms. Holding you close as he whispers apologies.

"No matter how long its been, you're mine." You kiss Logan fiercely, tasting the man who you've longed to hold in your arms again.

He's equally as desperate to feel you. His hands squeezing your sides gently as he walks you back until you hit the wall. Your hands run through his hair, the feeling of your wedding band in his hair only eggs him on.

Silently he thanks the universe for bringing him to you, for your forgiving, loving nature. He would have begged on his knees for a chance like this. He growls when you tug on his hair. His hand slipping up your shirt just to feel your skin. When you finally part he refuses to stay too far.

"Tell me Logan, how long as it been." Your heart aches to think of the pain he's been through. The life he's had to live without anyone to calm his self loathing thoughts.

"I can't even remember." He sounds so tired as he buries his face in your neck.

"It's okay, I'm here now."

"I love you." He whispers, a sense of relief washing over him as he utters the words he thought he'd never get to say again.

You had been waiting for him to come home and you would have waited until the day you too your last breath. He's worth it, all that waiting was worth it for you to call Logan yours.

"I love you too Logan, forever."

[frenchvanilla-mase]

fans are assholes | r. dias

summary: fans compare your pregnancy to fellow wags, leaving you to feel not so good.

notes: as requested! i don’t think i specified that it was twins but it still works. dad!ruben has to be my fav genre 🤪 i hope you all enjoy, some very cute at moments 💘 let me know what you all think! <3

IT WAS MATCH DAY, and although you were feeling rough like you had done the last 7 months, you had promised your fiancé you would make it to today’s knockout game rather than watching from home. he wanted you to support from the stadium, but he also wanted to get you out of the house too.

you were 32 weeks along and feeling very heavily pregnant.

yeah, it’s all fun and games when dating a tall man until you have to grow his unnecessarily large children.

all you wanted to do was lie down and moan this entire trimester, having nothing but a hard time with this one you were growing. you’d had every bad symptom imaginable, from the nonstop sickness and heartburn, to back and hip pain, difficulty sleeping and sore boobs, and now in the final stages you were experiencing braxton hicks, so yeah - all you did want was to lie down and whine. more than ever, you just wanted to stay in the comfort of your own home and nest.

“—you’re not even nesting though! you’re sitting here watching tv all day! get up and get ready!” rúben had said to you just yesterday morning after you’d told him you were too busy nesting to grab a coffee with him before training.

“mama, i think you should go tomorrrow . .” another sweet voice said from the sofa, glancing sympathetically in your direction.

your sweet boy, elias, didn���t want to offend you and make you feel like a slob, but he really wanted you both to go to his papa’s games. with school, you didn’t allow him to go to any late night matches which were always the majority, but tomorrow’s kickoff was 3:30pm and when he pitched the idea, you felt awful for feeling like you’d deprived him of some fun memories.

you really didn’t want to go, but your baby boy deserved it. he’d been working so hard in the last weeks of school and rúben would agree that you needed to take him - he wanted you both there just as much but he also knew not to tell a pregnant woman what to do - he wasn’t the one carrying an 8lb baby around in all summer.

“you nearly ready, baby?!” you called from your room, trying your best to look acceptable for today’s outing. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d done your makeup and styled your hair so neatly, baby dias was really kicking your butt that you hardly had any energy after a shower, let alone doing your makeup and hair.

you really needed them out so you could go back to your old self.

you didn’t remember pregnancy being this hard with eli. with him, you were able to get through the rest of school with him growing in your belly! taking notes and listening in class. sure, you had sickness and a sore back but that was really only at the start and at the end. given, you were younger and full of energy.

eli came along in the last of your teen years but you wouldn’t change anything for the world, same with rúben. he blamed that baby boy for being the reason he pushed himself so hard to get where he was today. he was such an easy pregnancy, and an easy kid.

being honest, you felt more unprepared for this new baby as a grown adult than you did as a teenager back in 2016.

with a few thuds across the landing and a solid jump at your bedroom door, you turned to see your 8-year-old all ready holding two thumbs up. with a man city kit on and trainers, he looked like rúben more than ever. seriously, if you got a photo of rúben back then, it was like looking at eli with a slightly different haircut. it scared you so much. “ready!”

traffic was always bad no matter what time you left, but you got there in one piece and already left eli with one of your closest friends and bernardo’s wife, ines, while you had to run to the bathroom even after such a short journey. jeans were longgg out of the equation so you’d gone with some loose, white trousers to go with the blue football shirt, hoping they didn’t wrinkle too much but still looked good with the outfit. “you are glowing!”

“no, it’s probably just my highlighter,” you pointed to your cheekbone as ines laughed cheerfully.

“no! you look amazing, what are you talking about?! i have missed you!” she couldn’t help but hug you again. “you’re ready to pop!”

she felt your bump and you huffed a sigh, pulling your sunglasses down, “i know, it feels like it.”

you didn’t really like being out this far along, not because you were afraid, but you were at that stage were you were starting to feel gross. like, you looked like a whale no matter what you wore or styled yourself to look like. realistically – you were one of the most beautiful pregnant women the internet had saw. truly, you may have felt like an elephant, but you were still posted on WAG accounts, getting shared by millions of women who begged they could only look as good as you when pregnant or better - envied you for still looking so hot while suffering the struggles of pregnancy.

how?! 😭❤️

life’s not fair!!!! 😫

what’s her secret?!!! 😍😭🙏🏼

but you could have gotten a thousand comments like that . . but all it took was the one bad one.

fucking hell, keep her inside 😂🫣

who is that??

🤣🤣🤣🤮🤮

a lot of the time you didn’t care because you knew how the internet worked, and you know the majority were sad-little-pathetic-football-fan men. they barely impacted you.

when it was women on the other hand . . .

“i just can’t believe one woman would say that to another woman,” you tilted your phone to show ines the replies. “what happened to the whole ‘girls help girls?’” you had to put your phone down before you ended up on a gossip page for arguing with people in your comment section.

“it’s always down to jealousy, babe. they hate you ‘cause they ain’t you,” she pointed, the same thing you had told her when she got her first negative comment, and you smiled at her attempt of making you feel better. she was such a good friend.

the internet was a weird place. your life was a weird place, you didn’t think there’d be a day people hated you for simply being with a person. you found it weird paparazzi followed you around when rúben was the famous one. you found it weird there were accounts dedicated to you when you didn’t do anything. it caught you off seeing people notice every little thing about you or knew things you forgot you’d explained. it did add a little bit of pressure knowing you were being watched and most likely compared to other beautiful WAGS. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d put on makeup in fear you’d be posted all over those news articles and WAG accounts.

you forgot how stressed matches made you until kickoff, two minutes in and already overthinking how this would go down. rúben had your heart fluttering nontheless with how he ran up and down the pitch, giving orders all sweaty and even repping the captain band for a bit. it made you feel real good about your baby daddy.

“come on, pa!” your son would shout when a bit of a ruffle would occur, his father speaking passionately to the ref with frustrating hand movements.

the halftime whistle blew and you let out a breath, fanning yourself as your body relaxed for a small moment. 0-0. “ma, i need to go to the bathroom.”

“me too, let’s go!”

perks of dating a footballer? renting out their own box for friends and family - including the private bathroom. no queues around hereee.

walking through the rows and steps, you couldn’t help but feel eyes pinned to you. ines would tell you because you’re a WAG of a player (you regret ever educating her on that term) but really you felt like it was because you looked like a whale making her way through the stands.

eli convinced you to do a lap of the stadium just once to ‘stretch your legs’ when really it was something he always liked to do as he believed it ‘made halftime pass quicker’. so hobbling around with few staff members recognising the kid (or rather seeing the clear evidence he was a mini rúben) , you strolled around the packed building, trying to squeeze past football fans, getting stopped once for a picture.

“thank you so much!”

“no worries at all,” you waved to the two girls, shooting them your kindest smile. they were so lovely, and even complimented you for ‘pulling off pregnancy so well’.

“you’re sLayiNg” eli mocked them, taking your hand.

“shut up,” you tutted. you appreciated being told you were still slaying.

“matt!”

the 8-year-old suddenly bolted to a familair security guard in a neon vest who was delighted to see the boy. “my man!”

you didn’t bother rushing over, you were out of breath as it was and decided to just lean on the wall while elias got his quick catch up, waving at matt instead. halftime was almost over. you should be heading back now.

“—not the best one though.”

“—no, sasha is definitely the best wag.”

i swear, the word ‘wag’ triggers you like nothing else.

you tried not to look around, but to your left, you could make out two bodies mingling with each other. both wearing light blue tops with stylish jeans and trainers, the two girls waiting outside the bathroom, trying to talk quietly between then in a mumbled manner.

you were a mum - you had mastered your hearing to hear the grass grow.

“–but sasha’s not pregnant?”

“–but if she was, she’d have a cute bump, not . . ”

their silence had you believe they’d glance in your direction, and it took every bone in your body not to stare dead on at them with a smile to let them know you heard every word - but you didn’t. you played oblivious and stayed watching eli, a forced sweet smile on your lips.

“–foden’s girl always has a cute little bump too!”

“–oh my god, yes. she’s stunning.”

“–he’s stunning too, to be fair.”

“eli, come on son!” you wanted to bang your head on the wall not wanting to endure the conversation anymore. now you’d tune in, you couldn’t tune out.

“–ok. bye matt! see you later,” he didn’t waste a second to return to you. “see you soon, buddy!”

you waved at matt and led him through the crowds, not meaning to hold his hand so tight until he pointed it out. “ow, ma, you’re hurting me.”

“sorry baby.” you didn’t sound sorry but you felt utterly hot and bothered. and not in the good way.

for some unreasonable reason, a small line of carts drove through the halls, and you stood against the wall as they passed by, holding your son by his shoulders. you could hear a small utter of whispers from your side but refused to turn your head. you really needed to fucking sit down.

“—dias’ girl! look at the size of her!”

“–rob that’s so mean! she’s pregnant!”

“WOW!” eli stole your attention as he almost stepped out in front of a last minute one zooming by. you smiled, and quickly manoeuvred him on your way.

“keep going, keep going,” you shuffled behind him in the stands, but stopped amidst a waiting line as someone caused hassle. your foot kicked something. “oh i’m so sorry!”

you accidentally tapped your foot to a lady’s handbag, but she smiled and waved you off. “you’re alright, don’t worry!” shortly adding, “i’m not surprised!” glancing to your belly.

it wasn’t malicious, but it was about to be the last straw of some floodgates. “ha! i know . . I’m like a whale.”

“how far along are you?” her friend asked.

“about 7-8 months,” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the fact they didn’t assure you that you didn’t look like a whale. thanks.

“oh wow!”

“i know,” you fake laughed. why wasn’t this line moving?

“is it twins or just the one?”

you tried to stop your eye twitching. who in the right kind said that?! was that . . a backhanded compliment?! what that even a compliment?! or was she genuinely asking in a stupid and nosey manner? “no, but it feels like it,” you fake laughed, and they did too. twats.

“oh my! you’re so big!”

“he or she will be a big boy or girl,” the other corrected with her pint in hand, knowing her friend’s words had just flown out of her mouth.

“yeah . .” you were done with this conversation but you didn’t dare be rude. thankfully, the line moved, and they waved goodbye. “congratulations!”

“thank you!” you replied, turning back around, mouthing absolute knobheads.

“mum, i don’t think you’re a whale,” eli’s hand patted your own that rested on his shoulder, bringing you back down to earth.

your heart thumped and although he didn’t look at you, your heart melted to a puddle as you squeezed his shoulders and ruffled his hair, knowing you’d embarrass him with a kiss. “thank you baby. you’re always to sweet to me.”

and he was. you actually . . wanted to cry. shock.

“hey!” ines greeted. “where’d you guys go?”

you only shook your head and nodded to you son who was standing again, ready and recharged for more yelling. you felt ines squeeze your hand and you looked at her, “are you ok? you look . .”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you dabbed your eyes and put your sunglasses back on. “just . . stupid stuff, and then e said something really sweet and i just,” you held your heart which made her laugh and reassure her for the time being. “ok, but . . you can tell me, y’know?”

“just being emotional,” you said the obvious, making her laugh as you leaned into her for support.

you would tell her later, but right now, you were going to use the rest of the game as your excuse to start screaming.

-

the game ended on a win. you saw rúben briefly when the players walked around and applauded, and eli mirrored his excitement and happiness, waving and calling to him as he spotted you guys. he was ecstatic you could make it.

it was after 6 by the time you got home and settled. you were about to order food when you second guess your options, today’s events replaying in your mind:

look at the size of her!

sasha would have a cute bump.

you’re so big!

you knew you were pregnant but there were far nicer things to say to a pregnant lady. what a bunch of assholes.

instead, you cooked some carbs up for eli and made yourself a seperate dinner, feeling the need to watch what you were eating now - you’d be giving birth soon and all those pregnancy cravings didn’t just leave when the baby came. you weren’t silly - you weren’t going to deprive yourself of food, but maybe they had a point - why wasn’t your bump considered cute? was it hard to tell you were pregnant? what were you doing differently?

you were on the verge of calling sasha and asking her what she put in her green smoothies when the door opened.

“meu amor?”

“in here champ,”

something rúben didn’t expect to see what you lying on the couch with a salad balanced on your bump, and you munching away like it was a 5-star dish. “what’s this about . . ?” he smiled sceptically, dropping his bag to the floor.

“what’s what?”

“that.” he nodded to your plate.

you shrugged. “took a notion for it.”

“for . . a salad?” he clarified, looking down at you, entertained in some sense.

your craving for the last 5 months had been anything with chocolate frosting on it. rúben had watched you talk yourself out of buying a tub of it on its own because you knew if was weird and would have to bake go use it.

“yeah.”

to be fair, the salad was tasty, and you were enjoying it but . . at 7 months pregnant? rúben tilted his head. “where’s eli?”

“is his room.”

“he had salad too?”

“he had pasta and garlic bread.”

now he knew something was up. you? not eating garlic bread? italian in general?

someone had said something to you.

he looked at you concerningly, but he was too afraid to ruin the peaceful moment. you seemed calm. he had won a game and you were in a good mood today. baby boy or girl mustn’t be giving you too much trouble so that was a win in itself. so he just leaned down and kissed you lovingly. “hi.”

“hi,” you smiled, pecking him three more times before he rose again. “well done today.”

“thank you,” his hand touched your belly for about two seconds before you swept it off smoothly with your own, squeezing it instead. you smiled up at him again, “love you.”

he kissed you again trying to hide his confusion – but something was up. you were being odd. “love you too.”

and he left and headed for eli’s room, leaving you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before slouching again and continuing with your dinner.

-

the rest of that evening, rúben was correct. you weren’t yourself.

your mind was somewhere else, and your head wasn’t out of your phone. constantly scrolling, you had overanalysed every picture captured of you today and tried not to nitpick. reading comments. comparing yourself. he wondered what you were doing.

but everyone else did have small bumps. everyone’s looked so cute. they didn’t use pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever they wanted or slack with self-care. they still wore tight clothing. they still looked gorgeous. you began to compare yourself to all these other wives and girlfriends on the page, wondering how on earth they looked that good.

ummmm, ‘cause maybe they’re 12 weeks along and you’re triple that?

the next morning, rúben kissed you in the kitchen before leaving. “what’s that?”

“what?”

“that,” he nodded to the drink in your hand.

“a smoothie?”

“for breakfast?”

“well yeah,” you furrowed your brows, and he immediately shook his head, pulling that judgemental, disapproving look you sometimes wanted to punch. “no, no, come on, don’t be silly, now,” he almost laughed, “you need to eat something proper.”

“it’s a smoothie, it has everything i need in it?”

“y/n, make something to eat. you’re almost 8 months pregnant for crying out loud,” he looked at you seriously. he didn’t want to sound like he was scolding you or making you feel stupid but you knew he was worried about the lack.

overprotective rúben had always been a constant in your relationship but when you were pregnant — phew, “you got my baby in there.”

“–and he or she is looked after, it’s a healthy drink—”

he took it from your hand and kissed your cheek in the process, taking it with him to training with a smirk, “stop being lazy and cook.”

you were furious. you were actually annoyed that he had taken the drink himself and didn’t find it funny. he kissed eli’s head and the door closed, and you were left highly irritated.

you couldn’t see eli shrink, but he did, looking wide-eyed at the table as he considered his dad a brave brave man in that moment to do that to you - considering the look of your face.

and as a pregnant woman with her emotional struggling to stay in check - you lost it as they all blended together once eli was dropped off at school, sitting in a car park of a café you regretted going too now that you sat with your decaf latte and triple-choc muffin. the frustration quickly turned to tears as you had a moment, eyes in your hands, thinking over everything the last couple days.

yes you were pregnant, but was there a need to be that big? were you even that big compared to others? were you really that bad to look at? that unflattering? did it even looking like you were pregnant? the loose clothing probably didn’t help, but who wanted to wear tight clothing? pregnancy was hard - it was hard to glamourise it all the time!

you’d never cried over looking bad the first time you were pregnant, maybe once or twice when a pair of jeans didn’t fit or you couldn’t reach your shoelaces, but never over the way you felt about yourself. you actually were starting to feel disgusting, and it was embarrassing because you let randomers make you feel this way!

. . and then the pathetic-ness turned into anger because why were people such assholes?! how can they not keep an opinion to themselves?! making you feel bad about your baby!

. . and then the anger turned to guilt because your sweet little baby was just trying to grow and be healthy and you were upset over it. tears again.

you didn’t know how to fix it. the damage was already done, you had a month left, there was no going back now with salads and smoothies, you yanked your paper bag with your muffin off the floor, eating your money’s worth. rúben subconsciously popped into your head as he was probably eating some fruit salad or nutritious sandwich at this time.

oh rúben. you wished he was here but you also knew you wouldn’t want him near you at the minute, not when you weren’t feeling yourself and you had people in your comments telling you he was on his way of replacing you.

he would call you stupid, but rúben just wouldn’t understand. he wouldn’t get being on the other side, the built in competition that automatically comes with being a woman, more than ever with this lifestyle he had given you. one where you’re compared left right and centre with a certain standard to achieve.

you bet every handbag you owned, he’d screw his face up and go ‘are you serious’ if you told him your issue. he knew you were above anyone commenting stupid things on your posts and found it immature of you in a way if you did take those things to heart - i mean they were nobodies! jealous nobodies! but that’s easy for him to say, his comments are flooded with never ending support, guys praising him for his talent, physique and hard work and most girls telling him to hurry up and leave you. spamming with flame and tongue emojis, thirsting over your man just the way you did, only boosting his ego more which rúben did not need.

so you just felt silly, and picked at your muffin, accepting your were going to be a whale wag.

you felt like a slob when you got back home, staying on the couch after cleaning, and then crying except you were watching a movie to blame it on that.

you still couldn’t get comments out of your head, i mean what was an ‘expired wag?!’ or a ‘busted oven?!’ what did that mean? and why always the skull emojis?!

scrolling once again through photos of comparison, you scrolled onto a beautiful pic of your beautiful bestie, ines, and straight away phoned her. “hey.”

“hey! what’s up! what’s going on? why do you sound you out of breath?”

“why do you think?” you laughed.

“girl are you crying again?!”

and you started talking. you had to get things off your chest and you needed ines to make you feel better, to assure you and let you rant, and she happily did, after all, you’d always been there when she was having a moment.

“–what did rúben say?”

“nothing, i haven’t told him anything. he’ll just tell me i’m being ridiculous.”

“he won’t!”

“ines, he would, he’s not like bernardo. rúben’s harsh!”

“so are you! which is why i can’t believe you’re still crying over this!”

he was harsh in the good way, in the same way you were. you were both practical. real. realistic. you picked each other up and told each off when you were being ridiculous. pulled each other out their asses. brought you back down to earth.

but you just needed comforted at this current moment by your girl.

as you continued to chat and laugh more than you thought, the front door opened without your acknowledgment and rubes stepped through. freshly showered after a long morning of training, he instantly heard your voice rambling over the phone. he took notice of the tissue also crumpled on the floor by the door (you’d been carelessly tossing them for dramatic effect) and paused after he thought he’d heard a sad sniffle. he closed the door quietly and crept near the living room.

“i can’t help it, i do just feel . . blegh,” you felt like you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it. “like, why does everyone keep making a big fuss about it? am i really that massively huge or am i just not liked?”

he heard another woman’s laughter on your phone and recognised her as soon as she began talking to you, “y/n, i promise no one is making a fuss of it, it probably just seems in your face all the time because you keep going back to check. i promise the world is not broadcasting you,” ines chuckled sweetly, which followed your sad laugh also.

“well the wag world does!”

“y/n!” she laughed, “you’re overthinking it. i promise you have nothing to worry about. the only person who’s opinion should matter to you is rúben’s and everybody knows he has you on a pedestal!” rúben found himself smiling. he’d always been a fan of ines. “he’s called you his wife since you came to manchester! he’s always been proud to show you off, you look good - you look amazing! people are just saying that stuff about you to make themselves feel better.”

“mm, i guess,” you sniffed, holding your forehead. “i don’t know, it’s just been getting to me . . and i’m not saying to rúben because he’ll tell me i’m being stupid. i wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaving an hour earlier in the mornings to get away from me. it’s not like my looks can make up for my psycho-ness anymore,” you joked.

“y/n!” she tried not to laugh. “though, pregnancy psycho-ness is definitely real.”

it is, rúben mentally agreed also, though his heart still sank further as he heard you talk about yourself in such ways. he didn’t want to call you ridiculous but come on, you were pregnant! didn’t they all count as compliments to a pregnant lady?!

“it is,” you let out a sigh, “i wouldn’t want to be around me either, just this big angry rhino walking around the house,” you laughed together, “he goes to a paris event on friday anyway, he’ll get a break and have plenty of french models to—”

a clear of a throat had you whipping your head to the door, seeing rúben’s hard stare. your mouth went dry. “uhhh, ines i’ll call you back.”

you felt bad hanging up as she was speaking back, too shocked you’d been heard rambling for the last couple minutes. or probably longer! how long had he been standing there?!

“listen—”

“french models?! french models, y/n.”

“rúben, it’s not in context—”

“oh i heard the context, i heard everything,” he came in the room, not one spot of happiness found on his face. he was fuming. you could tell, and disappointed too, you felt like eli getting told off by him, throwing yourself back into the couch as he stood with that gruff, intimidating look, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you don’t get it—” you could already feel the tears welling in your eyes, though a pit of frustration was brewing in your chest hot and fast. this was going one of two ways.

“what don’t i get? you don’t tell me what’s wrong when i ask you!”

“‘cause you wouldn’t understand!”

“ok but what i do understand is my wife accusing me of what? getting to pick which ‘french model’ i want to take home next week?”

now your face fell flat, realising how ridiculous and cruel that sounded. you shouldn’t accuse him of that kind of stuff.

“rubes, i just—” your mouth felt dry again. tears brimming again, you could feel how hot they were. the words were on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know how they were gonna come out.

“what is it? tell me,” he pushed, eager for you to actually get out what you wanted to say so he could help sort it. “i’m here to listen.”

and you did, you unleashed it all. “people are assholes. your fans are assholes. i’m sorry but i cannot believe the stuff people have no issue saying to other people - pregnant people at that! as if the 9 months aren’t hard enough, i have this mob of men and women on my back, judging and critiquing my every outting. i can’t do it anymore, it’s actually ruining whatever self-confidence i have left!” the tears were streaming as you began your rant, choking down sobs as you moved your hands, a fury behind all the sadness.

rúben crouched down, wanting to be nearer as you let it all out. “every day, every hour, i have someone online, reminding me off how big i am, how unflattering my paparazzi pic is, how whale-like i am! how hard it’s gonna be to shift this baby weight! i’m getting put in competition with every other pregnant wife and girlfriend of your teammate and showed how much better they pull it off! how gorgeous they look all the time! how their bumps are ‘cute’ and small and ‘suits them.’ i heard it myself at your game the other day! it’s like they’ve never seen an un-photoshopped pregnant woman before!” you met his eyes, realising you were probably being silly and that there were bigger problems in the world. “i just feel disgusting, rúben. i never felt like this with eli, i was in this perfect little bubble but this time so different. i don’t want to leave the house when i know a monstrosity of photos are getting taken of me, pointing out every flaw. i don’t have a cute, small bump! i do look like a whale! i can’t dress sexy! and i get what people are saying when they say it’ll be a bit before you can look at me again ‘cause god knows—”

“shh,” he quickly silenced you, placing a finger to your lips. his brows were furrowed as yours did, fed up of hearing you ramble about all the bad things about yourself. he felt pain in a way. he just couldn’t believe you actually thought these things about yourself. “wha— . . . are you being serious?”

“OH MY GOD!” you threw your arms up. see!

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, meu amor,” his big hands softly caressed your legs in front of him, along your smooth thighs to stop you from exploding again, “i’m sorry. it’s just . . i . . it annoys me that you let these things get to you, these random, strange people that you don’t even know. you take their opinion over mine. so mine doesn’t matter, it doesn’t count?” he looked you deeply in the eye, “how does that make sense? explain that to me.”

your head hit the cushion as you groaned but rúben held your hands comfortingly. he didn’t want to make you feel stupid, but he wanted to hear your thought process. “to me, it’s like . . you have the choice of walking into a room full of all these people who hate you, and you know the hate you, after being in one full of people you love . . and you go into the hateful one and are surprised that all these people are saying all these bad things about you when you could have just left it alone and focused on the lovely ones - from people who matter to you! who are actually in your life! do you understand?”

you nodded along, entranced by his eyes and how they were able to ground you alone. “you know that i think you’re the best thing in the world. you know i would love you if—” he thought off the top of his head, “you had 10 extra toes. a third eye. if you had a cow nose. elf ears!” your hair slipped silkily through his fingers, “you know i think you’re the most beautiful woman ever even dressed in a trash bag. i would still love you if you did wear trash bags. if you had a cow nose. if you weighed the same as a cow. if you weighed the same as a baby cow,” you broke a chuckle at that. “i’ve loved you through our ugly teen years, when i shaved my hair and your eyebrows were stick thin,” you laughed more as he let out a breath of relief, “i loved you when with vomit down your shirt and your hair dyed that weird colour—”

“rúbennn . .”

“what? and i loved you when you had eli in your stomach, and he was big baby,” his hand touched your belly, moving it in the same motion he always did because that’s when he got to feel the small kicks of this baby dias. “i loved you even more even when i saw how he came out,” he shot you a wildered look.

you facepalmed, dragging your hand down dreadfully at the thought of having to relive that moment all over again in over a months time.

his features turned as his thoughts turned sour, “why are you letting stupid fucking people affect you?”

“i don’t know . . i guess ‘cause so many people are saying it i . . it must be true to some extent—”

“y/n—”

“seriously, rúben. i don’t have a cute, small bump. ines and rebecca are always such sweet—”

“Y/N! have you SEEN the size of bernardo and phil next to me! is it any wonder they’re small! their child comes out the same size as them!” his hand shot out with passion.

now your head was in your hand with muffled laughter, caught off guard by his statement. “seriously! seriously, now you’re supposed to be the smart one,” he tried to look at you, that loving smile shining your way as his heart sang at the sound of you laughter. “you’re shocked that me, that we, have big babies . . that ines has a much smaller bump than you . . are you serious? that rebecca has a smaller bump than you? rebecca, phil and elway stacked on top of each other wouldn’t even reach the height of me!”

“rúben,” you laughed, feeling an actual blush of embarrassment coat your face at how stupid he’d made you feel, but in a good way.

he was so right. what were you thinking?

“i’m like, the biggest guy on the team! sorry i didn’t realise that was gonna be a problem for you,” you lightly hit his shoulder to wrap up the sarcasm, still giggling. he looked at you from the floor, his hands still on you, on your leg on bump — the bump that he did make look small next to his hand. “and please remember you’re a month away from giving birth, you’re supposed to be a healthy size. and i been going to training an hour earlier ‘cause i know when this one comes along, i’ll not want to go as much and i’ll want to stay with you both. i’ll start working on my dad bod . .” he felt the small, subtle movement happening inside, but he could feel them if he kept still enough.

“you’d look good with both.” you rolled your eyes.

“and you’d still look better. y/n, you’re not a whale. please stop saying that,” he finally crept to his feet, climbing on the couch on top of you, leaning his arm behind your head. “you are the most beautiful-est woman to me and no-one, NO-ONE can convince me otherwise. you’re my standard of perfect, of gorgeous and sexy and all the rest of it. i’ve found you sexy before this baby, during this baby, and after this baby — i still get comments of people telling me how ugly i look when you’re next to me! you bring my value down!”

his arm wrapped around your neck while the other threw itself over your bump, shifting and snuggling into the sofa more comfortingly, you relaxed alongside him, the tears no trickling down but with good reason behind them as you were shocked to find your love growing even more for rúben when you thought it was impossible. “i don’t know what comments you’re seeing because all i see are the ones calling you a milf, and it takes too much time to try and report them all.”

you held his hand at your shoulder, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly, over and over again. you knew how much he loved you. “yeah, you’re right. fans are just . . assholes.”

“fans are assholes,” he agreed, stroking your cheekbone, “. . don’t listen to them. you think i listen to everything they say about me?” he perked a brow.

sometimes! you wanted to say but knew better. it was rhetorical question, and you knew his sweet intentions.

“alright? i don’t so why should you? you’re hot stuff babe,” he looked at the side of your face, inspecting every little freckle and faint scar, he just wanted to never stop kissing you. “i love you the way you are. eli loves you for the way you are, and this baby,” he rubbed circles on your belly, “he or she is going to be so unbelievably lucky when they see who they have as their mam. i know it’s not the smallest bump but i think it’s the cutest i’ve ever saw, with my baby girl or boy in there,” he kissed the size of your stomach. he grew more and more excited each day as he got a day closer to meeting who was inside. he couldn’t wait. “. . who they get their good looks from and skill and personality - well, i mean i would like to take some credit for the both of those ‘cause i mean their daddy is pretty c—”

you playfully jabbed his side, making him laugh. “yeah, he’s the hottest one on the field,” you glanced at him, kissing his cheek.

one thing about him, he’d always blessed you with beautiful children.

“yeah, and their mum is coolest one at the school pick up,” his lips trailed along your cheek to your jaw, the slight scruff of his beard tickling you. “you’re the biggest milf to walk the planet–”

“rúbennn,” you chuckled, blushing at his words whilst trying to push him away.

“i’m serious,” he proceeded, peppering kissed down your neck, “and she’s coming to paris with me for the weekend so she can outshine me like she does at every event she comes to.”

you laughed at that, smiling dreamily as he proceeding to love on you.

“and eli?”

“elias gets to stay with his favourite uncle who owes a favour,” he winked.

“hmm. ok.”

“and i’ll give her a reason to cry if she starts thinking like that again,” he whispered in your ear.

your heart slipped a beat. “oh yeah?”

“ohh yeahhh,” he nodded, standing to his feet, not before a loud ‘smack’ echoed the room as he mimicked what your poor backside would get if you kept up that kind of behaviour. “see you upstairs, mama.”

you blew your hair from your face, heart thumping, your hands slowly crept up to your adorable little bump where you caressed it gently as he headed for upstairs, whispering softly, “you are soo lucky he’s your papai.”

your heart raced as he peeled his hoodie off, back muscles staring right at you as he headed for your room, you felt your insides begin to sizzle.

— but you were even luckier he was your husband.

[sterredem]

She’s real!?

Charles Leclerc x reader

Face claim random Pinterest girls

Summary Charles has said he has a girlfriend for a few years now. But the longer people hasn’t seen her the more they think they he made her up. Until they are proven wrong

Warning fluff, rushed, maybe some spelling mistakes.

A/N the ending was ruched cause I am working on something bigger. But This has been in my draft for weeks so I wanted to put it out before the big thing.

Charles knew that he was lucky. He had an amazing girlfriend, his dream job, great friends, enough money so that he could last a lifetime, fans that supported him and a family that loved him.

But not everyone believed that he had all that. It may sound a bit weird because they where all facts. …right?

Well not every on of them. The first one the girlfriend one. That one wasn’t. He claimed he has one. And he always brings her up, for 3 years now. And you may think ‘well why don’t people believe him then?’ Well that can be answered quite easily.

No one has seen her yet. Well not no one because his family and his closes friends have. But they have never been seen public, and if they did see her they didn’t know it because they don’t know who she is and how she looks. They know there is someone, just not how she looks, what she does or what her name is.

And that is why people don’t believe him. Even some of his close friends and colleagues don’t. His team doesn’t even believe him.

And that’s all because they wanted to wait with going public. They wanted to wait because Y/n was really busy with her school work and Charles was travelling the world for formula 1. They did live together in his house in Monaco. But they didn’t see each other that often. But they still managed to keep it private.

And they do want to make it public. But in the first year that they where together they decided to keep it quiet, and when they where in their second year, she was really busy with school and being in her year before her exams she needed to study a lot. And then with him travelling the world and having a lot of trouble with Ferrari they still didn’t have the time. And now in their third year together, she was in her last year of school and studying a lot and him starting the season again. They still didnt find the time to go public.

And when they did find the time they where together and enjoying the privacy they had. So they decided to not hard launch yet and just torture the fans and public with corny soft launches.

And while they enjoyed the privacy they had. Charles did find it annoying that his friends and fans didn’t believe him. And he tried everything, but he will prove that she is real. Even if it will cost their privacy.

When Charles walken in the paddock alone… again, people stared looking and asking questions. A bit teasing of course.

And when it was media day there were a few questions about his ‘girlfriend’ but he successfully dodged them all. Not that he didn’t want to talk about her. But his media team said that it was better to not answer them, and he talked to Y/n about it and she said that it if came up he could talk about her. But just not randomly saying stuff.

So as promised he kept quite about their relationship. And when Fp1 and 2 rolled around it was still going great.

Well besides the teasing comments from his colleagues and even his team.

And when qualifying came around it was going really great. He started on 5th place, with was not the best but still good.

But then Race day came and he was as pretty excited. He started on a good place and Carlos was back again.

He ignored it for now and talked with his engineer for the last time before the race.

Before he got in his car he checked his phone one last time to see y/n has wished his good luck, he smiled a bit at that. But when he looked up again he saw that Carlos shot him a knowing look.

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After Charles was done at Australia he got on a plane. When he was in the airport he saw his girlfriend. He ran up to her and hugged her. After not seeing her for a few days he had missed her.

“Hey amour, I missed you” he said in her hair while hugging her.

“Hey love, I missed you too. So much” she said looking up at him smiling. What they didn’t notice is Joris taking pictures (not that they would mind).

“Would you want to go home or walk around a bit?” She asked with a slight smile while looking in his eyes.

“I think it would be fun to walk around wouldn’t it?” He asked while putting a bit of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah it would. Come on we should get to the car.” She said while grabbing his hand. “Hey guys good too see you.” She said addressing the other people that where with her boyfriend (and a few of the little people that knew about them and believed it).

“Yeah yeah. Good too see you too y/n/n. Could you just keep the PDA down or something?” Joris said reading a bit.

“Oh sure, I will just keep down being with my boyfriend after no one believes we are together and not seeing each other for a few days. You know you are lucky, you get to be with his all the time.” She said jokingly.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Joris said while smiling at the couple. They really where something.

“Where do you guys want to go?” She asked looking at Charles again.

“We could just walk around the city and maybe catch the sunset, no?” Charles said while they all walked to the car.

“Yeah that would be fun.” She said opening the back door. “Who wants to drive!” She asked specifically to the other two boys not wanting Charles to drive with his parking skills.

“I could drive, Andrea so you want to go home? I can drop you off and give the lovebirds some time to catch up. ” Joris said.

“Oui, s'il vous plaît.” Andrea said while getting in the passenger seat. (Yes please.)

After dropping Andrea off at his home and walking around the city for a few hours they decided to go to a field to watch the sunset.

“It is so pretty.” Y/n said while looking at the sunset.

“Yeah it is.” He said looking at her. Admiring her.

A few hours later they decided to go hand and hang out there. Joris was with them for a bit longer after deciding to go home too.

Once it was just them they cuddled un in bed and talked for a bit longer.

“Hey Charlie I have a question.” Y/n said once the conversation dialed down a bit.

“What is that Belle?” He said looking- no more admiring her.

“Would you want to go public? And if when?” She asked playing with his hair.

“Of course I would want to go public. And whenever we are ready.” He said kissing his head.

“What if I just come to the paddock and surprise everyone. And we just randomly hard launch?” She asked looking at him.

Charles looked at her thing about it. “It would be fun wouldn’t it?” He asked smiling at her with a little smirk.

“Should we?” She asked him.

“We cou wait a few races, maybe chose a good one. We could stir up some thing. Maybe soft launch some?” He asked her now being a lot more serious then before when they just joked around and talked a bit.

“That would be fun.”

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After Y/n postet that on her story a lot of people begin to notice. Especially because Joris was posted. So when people begin to put everything together they where shocked.

So with now people beleving Charles Y/n could finally be at an race. And that happened. And people loved it.

The drivers where shocked that she was real, so where the fans and the people that worked their.

But they where all happy for them

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[sugurouge]

— attention : suna rintarō x f!reader

contains! — mdni: smut, edging, orgasm denial, dirty talk, marking, condescending pet names (like baby, angel, good girl, bunny), pussy spanking, biting — 2.8k words

summary: brat taming with rin cause it's apparently really hard to shut up when he's on an important call with his manager

a/n: ugh coming back to hq in 2024 wasn't on my bingo card but i have too many sunarin thoughts and never posted this fic

People want something from Rin way too often—be it his team, his sponsors, or his stupid social media addiction. Of course, he mostly has the latter under control whenever he promises to focus his attention solely on you, but, unfortunately, there isn’t much Rin can do whenever work urgently needs something from him. And you are okay with it, for the last hour that is, until the important topics are done being discussed and only this unnecessary small talk remains.

With your eyes glued to his back, you try to get more comfortable on the sofa, turning from left to right, from your stomach to your back—making it a point to huff anytime you move. You're desperate to finally get his attention again.

"Rintarō" is the first quiet plea coming his way. Your cheek is squished by a pillow, cuddling the soft cushion instead of your boyfriend who only shushes you from across the living room. This game goes on, turning into repetitive chants of his "Rin" or pleas like "Please, hang up, I’m really bored."

Listen, it’s not that Rin dislikes spending time with you; much rather, he gets a kick out of you behaving needy. He already heard the first exaggerated exhale from your pouting lips loud and clear. Yet it's too tempting to keep chatting, to test you further, despite not being much of a talker under different circumstances.

Can you not even survive without his attention for sixty minutes, hm?

You crawl towards the edge of the sofa, arms resting on the headpiece, to get somewhat closer to him. "Rin… you promised me," you drawl, batting your lashes at him when he finally looks at you.

"You promised you’d take care of me. You promised to give me what I want today. You promised to fuck me, and yet you only sit on that stupid phone and ignore me like you always do!" You don't even care if the person on the side of the call can hear you.

Yes, you over-exaggerate. Of course, how else can you finally get him to end the call and stalk his way over to you? Yet, regret is the last emotion plaguing your mind when his green eyes practically pierce through your body, cool fingertips squishing your cheeks and forcing a pout on your lips.

Rin bends down to match your level, head slightly tilted as his lips near yours. Oh, the excitement that courses through your body is delicious. "You’ve never been that annoying before, you know that?" he mumbles, as he smirks against your lips and pulls back again. His free hand runs along your leg, blunt nails tickling the soft flesh once he draws closer to your inner thighs, index and middle finger signalling with a push to part your legs for him.

The feather-light sensations of his fingertips dragging along your warm and slightly wet panties is already enough to have you hum in satisfaction. "So warm and eager," he pouts, faking sympathy for how you submit to him like such a needy thing. Your hips buck in reply to his touch, lips trying to close the distance between your mouths, prompting his fingers to tighten their hold on your cheeks.

"Though, I really wish you wouldn’t have behaved like this…" His eyes quickly scan the room before landing on you again. "I would have loved to fuck you, baby. It’s been on my mind all week, I felt so bad for being busy. You know that?" Rin mumbles, tilting your head sideways to kiss your neck. "Wanted to make you cream on my cock, wanted to fill you so badly and reward my pretty girl for being so patient for me."

His tongue licks a greedy strip along your pulsing artery before his teeth nip at the wet area, nibbling on your neck until you turn desperate.

"Mh? You’re so wet too. All for me? All because of the little fantasies in your filthy head, yeah?" His words rain in on you, and all you’re really able to process are his mentions about stuffing you full and making you cream. Your legs shut tight around his fingers to lock them in place. "I’m sorry..." What a pathetic little apology.

"Are you really? Or is your pussy thinking for you right now?" His chuckles vibrate against your skin as his fingers push your panties aside, one finger entering you with such ease you should feel embarrassed. "Fuck…" he breathes against the shell of your ear, his eyes falling shut once a second finger explores your gummy walls. "I’d love nothing more than to stretch you on my cock. I want you so bad, angel."

The mockery, the condescending pet names, and his stupid fingers curling against your spongy spot—it’s all a little too enticing.

"Rin, please. I’m really—ah, I’m so sorry, really sorry. I’ll be good, I won’t do it again." You try to convince him, tugging at his shirt as your eyes search for his.

Deft fingers still inside you, while his thumb now teases your clit, softly rubbing the little bundle while Suna, once again, brings distance between your faces. He allows himself a moment to admire your pretty features with that adorable desperation in your eyes. You lean into the caress of his palm against your cheek. "Never again? You promise me?" he mumbles the question.

You nod slightly as your begging gaze meets his squinted eyes—suspicion written all over his features. "Promise," you whisper as if it’s a secret shared between you two.

Rin's sigh softens his expression, easing the tension from your body since his words are so sweet. "Hmm, well since you promise me so nicely to behave, I think I should properly reward you."

Your back meets the sofa in an instant, legs spread wide by large hands digging into the tender flesh as he litters your inner thighs with kisses. The sensation of his mouth sucking on your skin makes you mewl and further press your thigh against his mouth. It shouldn’t feel this good for him to ruin you, but his teeth bruising your legs all the way to your core is addictive.

"Fuck, Rin~" you breathlessly moan when his tongue licks along your soaked panties, his gaze resting on your face to watch your every reaction. You're ready to go on your knees and beg the moment he sits back to tug his shirt off, revealing his toned body for you. Your clothes follow suit; he's carelessly tugging your skirt and panties off in one go—the strength behind his actions is pulling your body down until your ass pushes against his legs.

That first feeling of his clothed cock meeting your pussy won't allow you a moment of breather. You're all consumed by searing kisses along your neck, by greedy hands lifting your top until your bra is exposed to Rin's eyes and the tight fabric of your top pushes your tits further together. His hips lazily roll against yours, worry about slick staining his pants the last thing on Rin's mind. "I want you so fucking bad," he pants, the strain in his voice already so painfully clear.

"Can’t you just…?" you practically whine, tugging at his roots as his face is buried between your tits, lips busy spoiling your skin in kisses as he mumbles into your skin how "You’d learn nothing from it, would you?"

Your neediness causes his cock to twitch in his pants, hips pushing against yours. Low moans dampen your skin, they bring shivers to spread over your body and a "I hate you," with too little strength to your voice to leave your lips.

Pointed canines dig into the soft skin of your stomach, making you regret your words as he carelessly leaves indentations. "You love me," Rin mumbles, before flattening his tongue to lick over the irritated area. His hands snake around your thighs to further spread them once his travels lead him further down your body. Leaving kiss after kiss until his breath ghosts over your clit, the tip of his tongue darting out just for a taste test.

The kiss on your lower lips is most likely the softest one you’ve received all day, reminding you of how tender Rin can actually be—when you don’t annoy him relentlessly. His mouth latches onto your pussy, tongue pressing against your clit to apply a nearly unbearable amount of pressure, making you squirm beneath and move against him. Impatiently, you push your pussy into his face, shamelessly trying to grind against him, seeking the delicious friction he seems willing to give; until you cry out in surprise.

Until his mouth closes and his teeth drag along the overly sensitive and thin skin of your swollen pussy. The stinging pain brings tears to fill your eyes as his upper jaw meets his lower one, his front teeth tugging on your clit while the tip of his tongue plays with the flesh trapped between his teeth.

Rin pulls back once the grip on his roots turns painful. The smack to your pussy with his flattened hand follows almost right after, before his middle and ring fingers enter you again.

By now, you've turned shameless. Loud moans bounce off the walls of your living space, they almost sound helpless as they mix with your pathetic attempts to fill your lungs with air while Rin moves his fingers.

The pain he previously inflicted on your clit makes it almost too easy to push you towards an orgasm. Thanks to his observant nature, Rin can quickly notice the hints of your impending high. It brings a sly smile to his lips as he returns to once again lean over you. Hand propped up beside your head, he basks in the heavenly sight before his eyes, his hand moving faster, fingers curling just right until your legs quiver.

"You’re really cumming because I bit your clit, huh?"

You nod all too willingly, heavy eyes falling shut to let your tears run free and drown in your orgasm. Yet, it never arrives. Instead of the sweet release of your orgasm washing over your body, you only feel the tingling sensation inside your core subside as Rin stills his movements, fingers resting inside your clamping walls until he feels you loosen up.

"Don’t!" nothing but a sad protest. "Please, let me cum."

Fuck, your expression is heavenly. Those sparkling eyes now filled with lust, the wobbly lower lip, and the bounce to your tits as you fight for deeper breaths. It makes Rin‘s cock ache with lust.

He purses his lips, scanning your face for a moment longer before his fingers thrust inside you again—pausing just a moment later. He repeats the movement, enjoying the way you tighten around him again and again in response to his teasing; it’s just so entertaining to keep you on edge.

"As if we’ve never played this game before, pretty," Rin mumbles, lips brushing against yours now that he is finally at eye-level with you. "Be good and I’ll let you come as often as you need."

You nod quickly, brows furrowing to make you look even cuter. Your hands paw at his body, holding on to his shoulders and digging into his sides. "I’ll be good, I’ll behave, swear."

His soft kiss against your forehead is comforting, unlike his slick-drenched fingers rubbing on your clit, circling eternal patterns on the blood-rushed area until they enter your pussy again. "Yeah? You really want my cock that desperately?"

You hum, your heavy lids closing as you dance dangerously close to your orgasm. "Really want your cock, Rinnie," you mumble, absentmindedly nodding in agreement, ready to welcome your sweet release.

His tongue replaces his thumb, lips harshly sucking on your clit while he curls his fingers inside you. Your legs squish his cheeks in return, hips bucking against him. Your moans are the prettiest sounds to ever reach Rin's ears while the knot in your core is growing tighter with every move he makes.

Rin holds a firm grip on your thigh, wet fingertips pressing against your twitching muscles as he almost tastes your orgasm on his tongue. His eyes roll in their sockets, it's tough not to get too aroused by how perfectly you suffer.

"So close," you hum, excitement lingering in your announcement as breathing becomes more and more difficult. Yet the smile that was about to spread on your lips dies as quickly as it was about to spread once Rin forces you to hold still. Fingers leaving your cunt, he watches you pulse around nothing, walls trembling to feel the emptiness inside your hole instead of bliss.

His lips withdraw from your clit, expertly ignoring the pain of your fingers as they desperately try to hold onto his hair. What an awful reminder of how powerless you are once Rin effortlessly frees himself from your grip.

Shamelessly, he kneels down to stare at your pitiful state, noting how swollen your lips are as the light of the late afternoon sun highlights the glistening of your slick. Rin’s face doesn’t look much different, drenched in your arousal as he licks his lips and brings his wet face to yours.

Something about your tear-stained face is too beautiful for him and the way you turn your head sideways to dodge his filthy kiss is his favourite game.

Another smack against your pussy makes you shriek, more tears running over your face as you try to push him away. “Brat,” Rin mumbles, a click of his tongue tauntingly ringing in your ear. “You know why I do this. Don’t make it worse now, sweetheart.”

The following caress of your thigh is gentle, his kisses on your cheek soft and comforting—making it impossible to decipher his next moves. Go on, tell him.

“I-I behaved like a spoiled brat,” you hiccup, begging eyes finally daring to look into your boyfriend’s. For a moment, you find nothing but adoration in them.

Rin hums in return and adjusts his position on top of you, his body gently pressing against yours and caging you beneath him. The hard outline of his cock pushes against your leg, the hiss against your skin hot while his fingers hover over your pussy once more.

“P-please, I c-can’t take another—Rin, it’s too much, I’ve learnt my lesson, really!” you ramble on, panic spreading throughout your body.

The continuous pecks all over your exposed skin confuse you, luring you in to further seek comfort from the same guy who drives you mad.

“What do you want? Come on, tell me, pretty baby. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” The sweetness laced in his voice makes it impossible not to trust him again. So, your arms find their way around his neck, your tears wetting his skin as your lips brush against the shell of his ear. “Want you, Rin.”

Rin’s hand follows your waistline, thumb shortly teasing your breast until his fingers grab your chin and force you out of your hiding spot. “Hm? I couldn’t hear you. Repeat that for me,” he whispers against your lips, his eyes staring at you like prey.

“Please, I-I can’t, I want you to fuck me, I need you. Really, really need you. So bad!” The tip of his nose brushes against yours before softly kissing you. Until he pulls away, until this little demon returns and pouts right in your face. “Did I tire my baby out, hm? Was I too much?” He sounds so kind, how could you register the warning sings?

His fingers return to hover over your clit, teasing with feathery touches until you twitch with each move. “So sensitive,” Rin muses, forcing himself to bite back his grin. “I think you really need my cock, need me to fill your cute little pussy…” The pressure of his fingers increases, lubricating them once more in your arousal.

You merely nod, hands carding through his hair while your entire body begs for your orgasm.

“And I really want to be inside you too, bunny.” He groans, accentuating his desires by pressing his cock against your inner thigh. “You’d feel so good wrapped around me, your pretty whines and begs all I need to come deep inside you.” His jaw tightens, a display of how much his own dirty talk affects him, before he resorts to hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

Rin’s fingertips dip into your wet entrance once, twice. “You have no clue how hot it is when you squeeze me like that, feeling like you want to milk me dry,” he hums. His voice and words drive you wild, your hips pushing against his hand once more before another harsh slap snaps you out of your cloudy mind.

The stinging of the painful contact between his hand to your pussy lingers on your skin, sending vibrations through your puffy lips and causing tears to once again dance along your lash line. Your fingers wrap around his wrist immediately, your mind already aware of what his next move will be, as you desperately try to keep him in place.

But he pulls back, air hitting your uncomfortably hot and dripping pussy as you’re left with a kiss to your forehead. “But not today, not when you behave like a spoiled princess,” he murmurs, the disappointment and amusement evident in his tone.

dividers from @/cafekitsune + @/strangergraphics

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

hii, I‘ve already made two requests and you‘ve written them so so beautifully <33 Your work is really amazing and I think I would consider you one of my favorite blogs💞💞 I do have one more idea :)

Reader and Jason are in a relationship, yet they don’t know about his vigilante identity. Reader works the night shift as a barista.

One night, the café gets robbed during reader’s shift, but Jason isn’t there to take care of the robber since he went on patrol only later, meaning the GCPD is the first on the scene.

When Red Hood passes the café and see’s all the police lights, his heart drops. He comes to check up on reader, but they’re so shaken up that jason scares them.

It’s all fluffy in the end, and perhaps Red Hood reveals his identity 😚

Promises

Hi, nonnie! Thank you! ~1.8k words

There was a gun to your face about ten minutes ago. Well, it might have been ten minutes ago, you're not exactly sure how long it was now. The idea of time seemed to phase out when two masked robbers stormed into the little Café you worked at.

Who even robs a coffee shop? You had maybe thirty dollars in the till, everyone uses cards or just taps their phones anyway. That point didn't seem to get across to the men as they waved their pistols in your face and shot off rounds into the air.

You showed them the safe, and a few hundred dollars seemed to calm them down. They took the money, took your wallet and phone. But none of that stopped them from shoving you to the ground as they ran off. You just sat there– dazed, scared, and overwhelmed– until a patrol car from the GCPD and an ambulance rushed to park outside.

No one was hurt, maybe some bruises from being pushed around, but you and the two unfortunate people who wanted coffee half past midnight were more than a little shaken up.

You stumble through the questions the cops ask you and let the paramedics guide you to sit on the back of the ambulance. They drape a shock blanket over your shoulders as you murmur about needing to call your boyfriend.

Someone presses a hot drink into your hands, and you barely register the quiet conversations over this being the fourth small business to get robbed this week. Your eyes only leave the spot in the distance you're fixated on when gasps resonate throughout the air. Your gaze shifts up, and your breath leaves your lungs. Red Hood. Red Hood is stalking towards you like lives depend on it, avoiding the medics and cops that try to talk to him, to get his attention.

You're proud of the fact that you don't flinch when his gloved hand meets your face, carefully tilting your chin up to observe your face. His body is rigid, you can tell something's wrong even through the muddled, shocked state of your mind.

He's crowding over you, a barrier between you and the rest of Gotham. You know he's a vigilante, you know that he helps. But the moment frays the last of your nerves and tears fill your eyes.

You just want to go home. You just want to feel safe. You want your phone back and you want to call your boyfriend and have him make everything okay again.

Red Hod freezes and you can audibly hear his breath hitching. His fingers twitch against your skin before dropping, but he doesn't step away, "Sorry. I'm sorry– Did I– are you hurt?"

That only makes you want to cry harder. He's apologizing to you. This stranger hasn't done anything, but check if you're okay, and you're crying all because he looks big and a little scary. You shake your head, trying to find the words to apologize back, that you don't know why you're crying.

You shift back, even if there's no room to go anywhere. Your heart is pounding and you're scared even if you shouldn't be because there was a gun to your face and you could have died and the man that smells like gunpowder and leather can't fix that.

His head doesn't move, you know his eyes haven't left your face. You don't know why. He doesn't gain anything from lifting his hand to catch the tear that spills down your face. "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, steady and full of promise, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He says your name, says it softly and gently and damn near yearning.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer shakily, blinking back the rest of your tears and trying to figure out why a vigilante knows your name.

His head turns, presumably looking for your phone, "Is it still inside the Café?"

You shake your head, voice heavy with emotion, "It– they stole it."

"They?" He questions, mask tilting back towards you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly, Isn't that why he's here? To get information? To catch them?

His hand finally leaves your face, and you exhale softly in relief, "I'll take care of it."

He wavers in front of you. Another thing that doesn't make sense. You don't get another word out before he's disappeared into the shadows.

Your shoulders slump. You're so tired and so, so drained, and not even the hot drink in your hands is making you feel more in your body.

Someone calls your name. Jason. You stand up on shaky legs, nearly spilling the cup in an attempt to put it down quickly. Jason's here. You don't care why or how, but he's here. He has you wrapped up against his chest and face buried in your hair before the cops can even try to stop him.

He says your name over and over into your hair, and you try to ignore the way your tears stain his shirt. "I've got you, you're okay. You're okay, baby. Promise. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you," he murmurs, arms tightening around you.

He feels safe. He smells like– he smells like leather and gunpowder. He's big and warm and a barrier between you and the rest of the world. And it all clicks.

"Let's get you home," he says softly, gently, so careful with a voice full of yearning and love. You recognize it. And you know.

Jason knows your shift ends in forty-seven minutes. But patrol has been slow tonight, and he's going to walk you home even if it wasn't. So why not show up a little early and keep you company? Spoiler seemed eager enough to cover his territory for a few hours, anyway.

He'll go back out after he sees you home safe and watches you fall asleep. Jason's idly trying to decide if you're going to be too tired to shower with him, when the flashing lights outside the Café catch his attention.

He thinks his heart might have stopped. He doesn't even think to call Oracle or text you, he just knows his feet hit the pavement and he's running.

There's only one ambulance, only one cop car. His eyes dart. Where are you. Where are you?

He's barreling towards you as soon as he finds you. He doesn't have a plan. Doesn't need one until he knows you're safe. "Move," he snaps at the medic that tries to stop him, never stopping his path towards you.

His hand is tilting your head up before he even considers the possibility that it's a bad idea, that he's just a stranger in a mask armed to the teeth with knives and guns.

He can't help himself. He needs to touch you, needs to ground himself and make sure you're not hurt. He doesn't manage to get his words out before you're tearing up.

Jason's heart breaks at the sight, bile rising in his throat. He removes his hand, even if every instinct he has goes against it. He thinks he chokes out an apology, but he's too busy looking at every inch of you for injuries.

You shake your head and a piece of his soul shatters. He reaches up to wipe your tears, as if he could do anything else, "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, and wills it to be true, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He wants it to be better. He wants your tears to stop and the tension to leave your body and the anxiety to disappear from your eyes.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer, and he wants to drop to his knees when your voice shakes.

Your phone. He can do that. His eyes dart from you, looking for the familiar phone case, "Is it still inside the Café?"

"It– they stole it," You answer and his focus snaps back to you.

"They?" He questions, doing his best to keep the anger from dripping into his voice, to bite back the threats on his tongue for whoever scared you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly. Robbers. Robbers. Robbers did this. He files that away for once you're home, once he knows you feel safe.

He pulls his hand from your face reluctantly, "I'll take care of it." Jason doesn't want to step away from you. All he really wants is to wrap you up against him and promise everything will be better. But you don't need Red Hood. You need Jason Todd.

He forces himself away from you, moves faster than he should, struggling to shed his armor and mask. He drops his guns to the roof, anything recognizable left in a pile for someone else to deal with.

He's back on the ground and rushing back to you. He says your name. You look up at him and he sees the relief flood your face.

Jason catches you when you step towards him, arms wrapping around you to keep you close.

He whispers promises against your skin, tightening his grip on you. He can feel you crying. It makes concern and anger and the overwhelming desire to protect you twists in his stomach, "Let's get you home."

Jason– Red Hood– talks to the police for you. Insists that there's no more questions for you to answer as he hooks his arm firmly around your waist. He guides you home. You barely process a word he says.

All you can really focus on, as you watch him unlock the apartment door, is that he's Red Hood. How did you miss it? Why didn't you know?

You feel disoriented. But Jason's perfect, exactly what you need in the moment. He doesn't ask you questions, doesn't press or make you move too fast as he helps you change. He nods and gets you water when you say you don't want to shower, that you're not hungry.

He lets you curl against his chest and he kisses the crown of your head when you finally crawl into bed, "I was scared," You admit quietly into his skin.

"They'll never scare you again," he promises. Your stomach swoops. It's the truth. You know it's fact. They'll never scare you again. They'll never scare anyone again. He'll make sure of it.

You fall asleep to his comforting whispers and vows, the feel of his fingers tracing your skin. When you wake up, he's still next to you, still holding you flush against him. Your wallet and phone sit on the nightstand next to your bed. Neither of you mention it as the sun begins to shine on the familiar leather jacket folded over your chair. Neither of you mention it, later, when the news reports that two bodies were found in Gotham Harbor.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Champagne Problems

♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas

♥ pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: the two of you end up at a party with different intentions

♥ wc: 2k - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing, angst, and alcohol (drink responsibly please lol) !!!

♥ a/n: TONS of angst in this fic so get ready lol <3 i've been wanting to put out this fic for SO long you don't understand. tagging bestie @theonottsbxtch

Charles was head over heels in love with you—it was a shame, really.

You sat on your shared king sized bed in a sparkly dress, observing your boyfriend as he slipped on a gold watch. 

“We need to leave soon mon amour,” he said, wandering over to you and kissing your cheek. “We don’t want to be late, do we?”

You nodded and adjusted the jewelry on your hand.

Charles folded the cuffs on his sleeve, “You alright?”

“Mhm,” you nodded with a fake smile.

You hadn’t seen Charles in months because of his work. Ironically the first place he wanted to take you was a gala... For his work.

The two of you met because of your love for F1. The narrative of Ferrari brought you together and despite his promises to be there for you, he always left them unfulfilled.

You were alone. Way too often. Left by yourself to take care of Leo and be his wag.

You and Charles wandered outside the apartment to his car. He opened the door for you—like a gentleman. But you couldn’t shake this melancholic feeling whenever you’re around him.

-

”Hey, where’s Charles?” Arthur, your boyfriend’s younger brother asked with a smile.

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, and gazing at the room full of talkative people. The second you got there he wandered off to find Pierre. You couldn’t even blame him. This was for business after all.

”Hm, that’s odd. I’d expect him to be with you.” he scrunched his nose. “I remember one time last year—he was so excited to come home for winter break and see you. He would talk about you all day to me on the phone,” Arthur chuckled.

You gave him a faint smile. That was the Charles you fell in love with. Alas, he was across the room talking to someone else’s girlfriend.

“Well, let me know if you see him. I’ll see you in a few weeks for Christmas, yeah?”

You swallowed hard, pausing before a response.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” you smiled with a nod.

“Great, Maman said she already got you gifts,” he laughed. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”

He nudged your shoulder with an infectious smile, wandering off with a drink in hand.

God, why did this have to hurt so fucking much.

-

“Thank you all for being here,” a man said into a microphone, commanding the room to silence. “It has been an incredible season, but now we must start planning for the next one. Thank you to all our sponsors who are able to make this happen and congratulations to all that we have done this year.”

He raised his glass of champagne, leading everyone to follow and clink theirs together. You sat at a round table with your closest friends from the industry, Pierre and Kika as Charles got up to ask the man at the front of the room something. He came back with the microphone in hand and turned it on.

He stared down at you, eyes peering lovingly into your soul.

“Y/n… you are the most beautiful, kind, intelligent woman I have ever met,” he spoke into the mic, elicting a few ‘awh’s’ from the crowd and drawing at least a hundred eyes to you.

Charles slowly bent down, grabbing something out of his suit pocket.

Your eyes widened and you tried to say something but you couldn’t. Every word was trapped in your mouth, despite your jaw being on the floor. Plenty of gasps and whispers came from the room. You could see Kika’s eyes light up, clearly ecstatic for you.

“I don’t really have a whole speech planned,” he laughed softly. “All I can really say is how much I love you… Will you marry me?”

He flicked the ring box open, revealing a gold ring with a huge diamond.

You paused, trying your best to take in everything that has happened before shaking your head.

“Charles… can we talk about this somewhere else?” you whispered.

Charles' expression dropped instantly. He knows what that really means.

More gasps. More gossip.

Clearly the whole room knew what it meant too.

“Is she fucked in the head?” you heard someone from the crowd whisper.

Followed by, “If she won’t marry him I will,” and “What a shame.”

”I’m sorry Charles, I’m gonna get a Lyft.” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

Kika looked at Pierre completely stunned. This was certainly not how the two of them thought the night was going to go. This was certainly not how you thought the night was going to go.

Kika’s heels clicked on the tile floor as she ran after you, pushing the two glass doors open to find you sprinting down the long set of stairs.

“Y/n, wait!” she shouted after you.

You sat at the bottom step, waiting for your ride to arrive.

She stopped beside you, “I can drive you home,” she mumbled.

“That’s alright, I already paid for it.”

She sat down beside you and put a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

You grabbed her hand gently, feeling the coldness of her gold rings. You shook your head no.

She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, forcing your head to rest on her shoulder.

She kissed your head sweetly, “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in your hair.

-

You tossed your things on a table right next to the front door and kicked off your heels. You strut over to your kitchen and opened the fridge in hopes to find more alcohol. You were already probably drunk on Dom Perignon and your own tears, but with everything going on you might as well try to forget the horrendous night.

You grabbed a small glass from a cabinet and closed the fridge door, flinching when you saw Charles standing in the dark.

“Jesus Christ, Charles…” you whispered, pouring yourself some straight Vodka.

You braced your hands on the side of the marble counter, closing your eyes. Maybe if you close them tight enough he’ll disappear.

You sighed, “I don’t know how to start this conversa-“

“You said no?” he whispered. You could hear the heartbreak in his words.

You swallowed hard, looked around the room—anywhere but his eyes.

“I never said no…” you trailed off.

“But you meant no, right?”

You thought about marrying him before. A lot, actually. Racing, Traveling, Family. But there was always one thing missing from every daydream. And that thing was Charles.

You can’t follow him around the country for his job and even if you did—is that who you wanted to be? Just the wife of Charles Leclerc? 

“I don’t think you can truly be committed to this relationship. This isn’t what I need, and that’s okay.”

“I can't truly be committed?” he scoffed. “I'm not truly committed enough to get down on one knee?” 

Your relationship this past year wasn’t what you wanted. But one day it will be what someone else wants, and that’s what he deserves.

“C’mon Y/n, I love you-“ he muttered.

“Love isn't always enough,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Ah, the painful truth.

You watched as his face dropped, fully taking in the cruelness of your words. 

“Charles, I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Just go. Dégage de chez moi, I don’t want to see you right now.” (translation: get the fuck out of my house) he muttered harshly. 

-

It’d been a year since you last saw him. That night you packed up all your things as he slept at Arthur’s. You were gone by the time he got home.

You still spent time in the F1 scene. You had friends there too, but it still felt a little cruel. You didn’t fall out of love, at least not with someone like Charles—that doesn’t happen. 

If the circumstances were different you might have been married. You would’ve had a beautiful ring, a beautiful family, and a beautiful man. 

“Y/n,” Kika shouted through a laugh, half sprinting in her heels. Her right hand settled on your bicep and her left took your forearm, yanking you towards a group of women. 

“C’mon, I haven't seen you in months,” she said, causing you to crack a smile. You rolled your eyes and slipped off your bar stool, ready to get a little tipsy with your friends. She was right. It had been way too long since you had a girls night. The last one was before you lost your status as a wag. 

Today it was you, Kika, and Rebecca—all in elegant outfits that perfectly fit your vibes. Kika in a black long sleeve, off the shoulder neckline number, Becs in a sparkly red one that she luckily got to keep after modeling, and you in a short white satin dress with spaghetti straps and some matching white heels. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Rebecca said, looking you up and down. 

You sighed, “I haven’t been to an F1 event since you know…” 

She rolled her eyes, “That's exactly why you need a drink. Forget about him and have fun with us. Your favorite sport should not be attached to the memory of a man.” 

Great point. 

“Come here,” she dragged you back to the bar Kika pulled you from. 

She ordered three martini’s on the rocks, extra olives.

She handed you one of the glasses, “We’re going to meet up with Lily M and Carmen in about an hour alright? We’ll be out of this place in no time and you won’t even think about you know who.” 

“Where are we going?” you asked, sipping the drink with your eyebrows raised. 

“It's a surprise,” Kika said with an eye roll as if to say “duh”. 

You spent the next hour drowning in new conversations and shots. Sure you were at someone’s work party, but it’s not like you had to be professional. No one seemed to give a shit what Charles’ “Ex Wag” was doing.

“Carmen and Lily are outside, are we ready to go?” Rebecca asked, peering up from her phone. 

“Yeah, I just need to find the bathroom and then we can go,” you lied, grabbing your clutch off the circular table. 

You wanted to step outside and get a quick bit of fresh air before you returned to the group. They were doing something amazing in order for you to move on from your past relationship, but all you could think about was something you shouldn’t be. 

It's been a year, you should be over him, right? Too bad the pain didn’t stop at Charles. It was his whole family. God, you missed Arthur so much. You missed fighting with him about what Christmas movies to watch and hanging out in the Ferrari garage together. You missed Lorenzo and his older brother-like wisdom. You missed Pascale and how she welcomed you with open arms into the family. Fuck, you felt like a traitor. 

You sighed and wandered off onto the balcony, picking at the rhinestones on your purse. You leaned over the railing, letting the cool wind kiss your skin. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” an accented voice said from behind you. You would recognize it anywhere. 

Charles took his place beside you, avoiding eye contact. It took a good minute before you were able to respond. 

“I- uhm… I heard you and your new girlfriend broke up. I'm sorry,” you muttered. What an odd way to start this conversation. You weren’t even sure if it was true, you heard it in a tabloid. 

He hummed, “I suppose love wasn’t enough to save us.” 

Ouch. 

You scoffed, “Yeah I guess not.” 

The silence was loud. 

“Sorry,” he whispered in a change of tone. Maybe even a change of heart. “It’s good to see you again.” 

“Yeah,” you whispered back, unenthusiastic. 

“The family misses you.” 

You smiled slightly. That was good to hear. “You can tell them I miss them too.” 

“...I miss you.” 

He placed his hand on top of yours slowly, gently rubbing his thumb across yours. His cold silver rings brought flashbacks to your mind.

You looked up at him, tears begging to fall from your lashes but you kept it together; at least until he was gone. 

You squeezed his hand like you used to, “‘l’ll see you around, Charles.” 

You had to remind yourself why you said no everyday. It didn’t matter if you loved him and it didn’t matter if he loved you. You won’t settle for second in his life.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. miles morales (earth42)

EARTH42!MILES who buys you whatever you want, whenever you want. you don’t even have to say anything, as soon as he notices your focus has gravitated towards a display in a mall’s window, he’s stopped in front of it and digging out his wallet.

“you want that?” “no, baby, it’s fine. it’s probably really expensive anyway.” “i don’t remember asking the price. do you want that, yes or no?”

EARTH42!MILES who shows up to your house to take you on you guys’ first date, two bouquets of roses cradled in the fold of his arm instead of one. he was raised by mama rio, after all, so he knows better than to show up to a girl’s house with only his words to impress her mother.

“wow, these are beautiful, miles… thank you. who’s the other one for?” “for your moms, to say thanks for letting me take you out.”

EARTH42!MILES who is so deeply regressed into the act of suppressing his love and affection for others, in fear that he’ll get too attached, only to lose you just like he did his dad. he doesn’t know if he can survive something like that happening again, so it takes a while for him to actually open himself up to you.

“i’m not going anywhere, miles. you can let me in, it’s okay.” “you promise?” “i promise, my love.”

EARTH42!MILES who gets so flustered when you kiss him or compliment him or hold his hand, though it doesn’t come off that way due to how good he is at hiding his true feelings. his stoic expression makes you think he just doesn’t like it, so you back off some. your fears are assuaged when you come over one day and skip your usual greeting of smothering him in kisses or confessions on how much you’ve missed him, and instead settle for giving him a brief, simple hug.

“¿qué pasa, mamí, what i do? ion get no love today?”

EARTH42!MILES who wasn’t the best at texting at first—often leaving you wondering where he was for most of the day or if he was even alive—but has since stepped his game up.

9:30 AM

[mi novio]: goodmorning mi vida, how you sleep?

11:30 am

[mi novio]: you eat anything yet?

2:34 PM

[mi novio]: i miss you

6:20 PM

[mi novio]: ima be busy at around 7, jus lyk so you don’t worry bout where i’m at. i’ll text you when i’m free, okay chiquita?

EARTH42!MILES who asks for a picture of you every time you get your hair done, because he’s too impatient to wait until the two of you hangout again.

[mi novio]: lemme see your hair and make sure your face in it too, i wanna see how pretty my baby look

[you]: attachment: 1 image [you]: you like it?

[mi novio]: lord have mercy it just keeps gettin’ better. [mi novio]: goddamn you look good [mi novio]: nah i gotta see this shit in person im omw

EARTH42!MILES who literally gets offended when he sees you wearing something he didn’t buy.

“where’d you get these from? i don’t remember buying them for you.” “yeah… i got them from the mall last week when i got paid.” “oh, what, so you sayin you don’t need me no more? it’s like that now, mamí?”

EARTH42!MILES who knows he can always run to you when things get rough; when it all becomes too much for him to handle on his own and he can feel his resolve withering. he knows that all he has to do is push open the window you leave cracked for him, climb through it and slip into bed next to you with his head nuzzled into your chest. you’re the only thing that helps him off the ledge nowadays.

“you wanna talk about it, papa?” “nah, not really. can- can you just hold me?” “i can do that.”

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works to other sites!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[simplyvyn]

── .✦ small step, big step !

Sypnosis; bllk guys with a ballerina lover. <3

Multicharacter drabble: rin, isagi, bachira, nagi, reo

RIN ITOSHI

He does not believe it. How come he's only hearing this now? The fact you do ballet? And the fact there wasn't even a single clue. The first (not really) clue was when you shared a post on your profile of your ballet performance last week. And he.. well— stared at it for good about five seconds, till he scrolled through the pictures, comments and even the profile of who posted it. And by now its obvious that you have been doing ballet for a long time.

He mentioned about it when he was helping you make dinner at your apartment. "Hey.. so.. do you.. do ballet?" He questions shyly. Somehow. "Oh yea, yea! Have been for a really long time!" And he just stared at you for a secon till an automatic reply came out his mouth. "How come i did not know about this?" "Well you were busy with soccer, and i was busy supporting you with soccer so..!" You said, while shrugging and cooking fried rice. "Well you can be busy with ballet and i also can be busy supporting you with ballet, right?" He said, while looking at you. "You sure? You're quite devoted with your soccer career y'know." You replied while looking at him for a second. "But I'm devoted to you as well." Rin's automatic reply came out of his mouth once more. "..Alright. You're invited to my next performance then, so you can see how pro i am." You say with a smirk. And rin just deadpan at you.

ISAGI YOICHI

He adores how precious you look. Unlike Rin, he already knew, and its actually how he met you for the first time! It was from social media when he was scrolling, and found a video of your performance and he realized it was you! His classmate! and ever since that, he promised to you and himself, he will keep a streak with your performances.

Practice done, ate lunch done, dolled up (of course) done, and running to the stadium of your next performance. Before entering though, he fixed his hair, fixed his clothes, perfume, mirror and you know the gig. And then he entered and took a seat. He can't believe how gentle you dance at the floor with good balance. It so smooth and calming to watch. Sometimes, whenever watching you, he compares it to how he plays in his own sport. After your performance, you told him to go backstage, after you change. When you did he congratulated you and showered you with compliments. "Hi baby! Great performance today, as usual. And as usual, here, flowers." Throwing you bouquet at your arms, and you smiled at him while pointing at a bench full of flowers and gifts and he already knew where it came from. "It's fine. Yours is the most special, don't worry." Yehey! Isagi reacted.

MEGURU BACHIRA

Wow, this is just beauty and the beast at this point. You, a total beauty. Gently dancing, twirling, and taking small steps! And well! He's there with his own beast, roughly playing, dribbling and running big steps. Yet, with the polar opposite trope. You two still manage to fascinate each other and neither do you wanna stop. But this time, your not lovers yet. But you two definitely look like it.

There was a school ballet performance once again in your school and you were very excited and you were also invited. Hooray! But you're not the only one happy that you're gonna dance. When Bachira heard the news, he was smiling from ear to ear, cheeks with a pink tint, and he can already imagine your performance. Except, its obvious that its his imagination, with the way you look in his imagination. At your performance, when its about to start, you saw that bee-colored hair guy watching you and you tried your best to resist your smile and he waved very excitingly at you. And i mean very. And you waved back. After the performance, and a very tired body, leaving the school, you saw Bachira again and you couldn't control your smile again. As if your body was actually not tired. When Bachira saw you, he ran to you and hugged you while congratulating you. "Your dance was majestic as always! You should dance more! I like how you dance. Its very.. pretty." He said with a gentle smile this time while his hands were on your shoulders. "Definitely will for you." you said with a smile, ear to ear.

NAGI SEISHIRO

Just like Rin, he only found out recently yet already supported you! But yet, its so weird how you're so devoted in this sport. You make sure everything is perfect, smooth and clean. Days before your performances when he wakes up, he sees you doing stretches, yoga, practicing and more. Like, why do you need everything to be perfect, you doing a twirl was already perfect for him? 10000000 points, man!

"Babyyyy its, 6 in the morning, why are you doing pie–lates, early in the morning?" Nagi asked while peaking out from the door as he is in your bedroom. "Only 2 weeks till my next performance, sei. And, dear... Its PI–lates. How do you get high scores in your school?" You say while switching to another position. "The power of Choki of course. Its all by luck." "Yyyaaaa..! Luck..." you say while rolling your eyes. "Enough about these grades. Just go back to bed." He said while getting of the room to pick you up until you spoke. "If you move me from my position, i swear to god—" "Alrighty madam, please dont tie me up in backstage again until your performance is done. You know i hate waiting..." "I DON'T TIE YOU UP? I just push you in the couch and you yourself is the one who doesn't want to stand up!" You barked back. "Potato, tomato. Same thing."

REO MIKAGE

At this point, he is your manager. Makes sure your prepared and good to go on stage! Either way it will be more than worth it since he gets to watch you dance and the fact he's the one who dolls you up, picking your dress, fixing your hair and makeup, and the world sees it. If one is to watch your performance besides this man, they will see him with hearts in his eyes glowing, with a cheeky smile, and blush on his cheeks.

Your next performance is next week. You couldve prepared in the weekends but no... This man needs you to prepare your ballet dress for the whole month! "Let's get this one! Oh this one too! Now lets go buy shoes!" He said like a lightbulb lit up on top of his head. In instinct, he pulls you and the cart to the cashier to pay. Theres at least 3 ballet dresses. So i gues thats okay.. "Next month, we go shopping again, okay?" Nevermind, not okay. "Reo, i dont need all of these, i dont even have space in my apartment for all of these!" "Then i will keep them in stock in my penthouse. Plus you will stay there right?" You were unsure because a part of you was really.. scare of his parents so you just nod gently. "A-are you sure this is okay? Won't your parents cook me ALIVE?" You said while this rich man, grabs the shopping bags for you. Leaving outside. "It's fine~! My parents won't even notice this, dearest! And i bet they'll want to after they see your performance!" THEY? "W-what do you mean see my performance?! I can't even buy them tickets!" "Dont worry, darling, I did! Soo, shoes next?"

Taglist: @koieroeroero

TYSM FOR WAITING SO SO SORRY I MADE YOU WAIT FOR A LONG TIME.. (prioritized my school😓) made sure each part was realistic at least cuz idk ballet much😞