Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader
TJ’s 2K Request celebration!
@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”
Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers
WC: 3.1k
I hope you enjoy!! 💗
“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”
A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.
You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.
“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.
“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.
“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.
“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.
You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.
“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.
You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.
“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.
Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.
You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.
Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”
You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.
“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.
Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?
That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.
“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”
“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.
“I just think— "
"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.
"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."
“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.
"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.
"Yes, you do."
"When have— "
"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"
"Sweetheart I—"
"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."
"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."
"I don’t want to."
"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.
You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.
“Woah, see my point exactly.”
“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.
Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.
The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.
Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.
You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.
That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.
“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.
“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”
“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.
“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.
Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.
So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.
You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.
You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.
Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.
You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.
After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.
You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.
“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”
You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.
“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.
“Sorry, Angel”
Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.
“I didn’t know you stayed?”
“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”
“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.
“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.
“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.
“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”
You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.
Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.
“Oh god”
“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.
“You said it was demeaning…”
“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.
“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.
“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.
“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.
“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.
“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”
Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?
“You do?” Your eyes widen.
“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.
“Oh?” You were in shock.
“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.
“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.
“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”
“Kiss me.”
Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.
“Kiss me, Eddie.”
Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.
You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.
You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.
No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.
Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.
“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.
“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?
“I think we should slow down.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”
“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"
"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.
"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."
"Okay, Eddie."
Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.
You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.
Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.
hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.
"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"
“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.
Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.
Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.
“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.
“Can I taste you?”
“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.
Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.
“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”
“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.
Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.
“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.
“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.
“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”
“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.
“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.
You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.
“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.
“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.
Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.
Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.
When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.
Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.
You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.
When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.
You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.
The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.
“I want you,” you repeat yourself.
Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.
You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.
“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.
“Yes.”
He quickly got up and you moaned,
“What are you?- oh,” you blush
You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.
Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?
“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.
Cocky, shit.
“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.
“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.
“I have my toys.”
Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”
“Finally”
Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.
“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.
“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.
“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”
That made your pussy clench down again.
“Oh, you like that?”
You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.
“Noted”
You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.
“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.
“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.
You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.
“Harder”
“You sure”
“Yes, god yes!”
Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.
“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.
“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.
Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.
"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.
A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.
The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.
"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."
Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.
Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.
With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.
"That good, huh?"
"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.
"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.
"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.
"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "
Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites
@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv
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GOOD LUCK, BABE!
pairings: charles leclerc x reader (romantic/platonic).
summary: friendships don’t always survive, you and charles would know.
warnings: cheating towards the end. no smut but a makeout session. sorry alex 💔
author’s note: the brocedes au that me and anon wanted. i’m trying something new btw. let me know how u feel about it.
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you never imagined yourself in the same room as charles. not willingly anyways. yet, when you received the invitation with his handwritten note asking you to come. you knew you couldn’t say no. you had spent so much of your childhood discussing the future. he wanted a family. three kids, a dog and a gorgeous wife that loved him. you wanted a career. the glory, the accolades and the fans that loved you.
he made you promise one day that you’d be at his wedding. you were fifteen at the ice cream shop that he’d always drag you too. you had snuck out without arthur in order to have an extra scoop after charles’ dad had paid for the ice cream you’d had earlier. he looked over at you, eyes serious and asked you to be his best man — (“best woman, best girl. it doesn’t matter. i just want you next to me. i’m serious yn.” he took a lick of his ice cream and the seriousness melted away when he left a smudge on his nose.)
you didn’t break promises easily.
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however, when arthur came running up to you, asking you to follow him. when your relationship with charles disintegrated, you never lost touch with arthur. he was like a little brother to you. you would very rarely meet him for brunch in whatever city you happened to both be in. so when he asked you to follow him, you did willingly.
“where are we going?” you ask, as he pulls you along by your right hand. “usually, whenever you don’t give me context it means you’re doing something bad. is this something bad leclerc?”
“when am i ever doing something bad?” he looks over his shoulder and gives you a wink. you roll your eyes. he plants you in front of a room and nods at it. you stare at him blankly.
“okay? i’m not a mind reader arthur.”
“i need you to help me look for something.” he nods at the room. “in there.”
“you can do it yourself.” you turn to leave before he runs in front of you and stops you.
“listen. i don’t care if you had that weird breakup with my brother,” you start to protest that it wasn’t a breakup but he stops you. “but you didn’t need to cut me off too. you were a part of my life too. you abandoned me too.”
“i don’t ask you for anything yn but i need your help. i’m looking for my silver cufflinks. i need them.” he raised his cuffs to show you the distinct lack of cufflinks. “please. i’m begging you. i wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
you didn’t expect to come here to be blackmailed and guilt tripped but it was working. you avoided everything leclerc. even his family, especially his family if you were being honest. they went from being your second family to nothing at all.
“okay.” you nod. “i’ll get your cufflinks.”
arthur smiles and opens the door for you to walk in. it’s someone’s hotel room. either arthur’s or a friend’s. it’s messy and you sigh. it’ll be hard finding them in this mess but you start carding through clothes.
“yn?”
you know that voice anywhere. you turn around and it’s charles. he’s half dressed in his wedding suit, his crisp white shirt half unbuttoned. his hair is still messy as if he’s ran his hand through nervously multiple times. you smile with no teeth and move to open the door. it’s locked.
“arthur leclerc! open this fucking door!” you seethe. you bang against the door and hear his voice through the material.
“not until you fucking talk! i’ll be back in half an hour.” you hear his footsteps walk away. you turn to charles who smiles sheepishly at you.
“tea?”
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liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 1,737,883 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: it seems all the rumours are true. sworn enemies f1 drivers charles leclerc and yn yln have seemed to call a truce to celebrate his wedding to art historian alexandra saint mleux. she was seen wearing a dark green vivienne westwood gown as she celebrated the couple’s nuptials.
what do we think about the rekindling of this flame, ham1ltons?
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user1: CHARLESYN IN THE SAME ROOM NO ARGUING NO FIGHTS WE CHEERED!!
user2: i wish we had pictures of her. she always eats her outfits.
-> user3: wtf how does she digest them?
-> user2: figure of speech babe <3
user4: did she have a date??
-> user5: her longtime boyfriend!!
user6: they worked it out on the remix
-> user7: so FERRARI ❤️
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charles makes you the tea. he doesn’t finish buttoning his shirt as he pours it into a mug for you. he remembered how you liked it - two sugars and a splash of milk. you stay silent but nod gratefully.
it’s been so long since you’ve been alone with him. you’re not the same wide eyed kid but neither is he. he’s getting married and you’re giving him the silent treatment. he sits on the edge of his bed awkwardly. tapping his thigh with a single finger.
“thank you for coming,” he says. “i didn’t think you would.”
“the handwritten invitation was a nice choice,” you sip your tea. “personal. did everyone else like it?”
“only yours was,” he coughs into his elbow. “handwritten. i mean. only yours.”
that’s news to you but you don’t have time to ponder what that means before he speaks again.
“i’ve thought for the longest time on what i’d say to you if i got the chance. everything. how sorry i was, how sorry i am, how much i hated you and how much you meant to me. you were my best friend yn. my best friend. no one has even come close to what you were for me.” he chuckles as he presses his palms into his eyes. “who else could i talk to besides you?”
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(insert a tiktok edit of the two of you throughout your careers. the song playing over it is the song ‘chemtrails over the country club’ by lana del ray specifically the lyrics ‘nobody’s son/nobody’s daughter’. it gets 167k likes.)
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“do you still hate me?” charles looks at you under his lashes.
“of course i do. you hurt me.”
“you hurt me. but i don’t hate you.” charles fidgets in his seat. he stretches his hands to place them on his knees. you sip your tea. “do you remember when i asked you to be my best woman?”
you nod.
“i didn’t mean that. i wanted you to be my wife.”
you would choke on your tea if you didn’t know that information but charles wasn’t subtle. yet it was a case of missed opportunities. you didn’t like him then and he didn’t like you now.
“i couldn’t hate you yn. god knows i tried. it hurts me knowing that you hate me as i could never hate you. i said all that shit because i was hurt and angry. you said i was a shitty driver. that is wouldn’t have won without ferrari’s strategies which we both know are shit-“
“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you still cared about my opinion.” you interrupt. your voice still has a defensive edge to it. he just shrugs.
“i’ll always care about your opinion.”
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CHARLESYNNIES TWITTER GC (est.2017)
user1: editing yn to l’amour de ma vie by billie eilish (extended version) rn 😋
user2: what part?
user1: listen from 2:15 till 2:56!!
user3: THATS GONNA EATT OMGGGG
user4: wish we could edit the wedding appearance of the two of them omggg.
user5: when i get off my lazy ass and finish my edit of them to ‘the girl so confusing’ remix
user6: do y’all think they’re talking at the wedding?
user7: babe do you know yn? she’s probably at the very corner of the reception right now. she’ll take a pic with every other leclerc besides charles and probably leave before dinner is served.
user8: you’re so real. yn would NEVER talk to charles let alone be alone with him. i hate it but it’s the truth.
user9: plus charles is probably busy with the wedding.
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you never considered yourself to be a bad person but making out with your ex best friend/teammate literally a few hours before he’s about to get married? that’s a bitch move.
you try to think about his fiancée. she’s probably getting ready excitedly with her family and friends. thinking about being the future mrs leclerc while you’re two minutes away from committing adultery on both of your partners.
you pull apart from charles. he looks at you with wide eyes.
“we can’t fucking do this. we’re awful people,” you sit up. “my fucking lipgloss is all over your mouth.”
“i look good in pink. it’ll be fine.” he wipes it off.
“you have a fiancée. you’re getting married.”
“tell me the word and i’ll call it off. just for you.” he looks at you. “i’m quitting f1 after this year anyways. i’m not attempting to go for the second championship. i don’t want it.”
“how do you not want it?”
“we have different priorities but i won’t be a f1 driver anymore. you always said you couldn’t date a driver. i’ve grown now. i’m fine being in your shadow. i love it. i want it.”
he looks at you as serious as he did when he asked you to be his best woman all those years ago.
“what do you want yn?”
you bite your lip, and think.
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CHARLESYNNIES TWITTER GC (est.2017)
user7: i’m hoping we get at least a picture. just one.
user4: i would DIE!!! imagine!!!
user3: charlesynnies suffer every day and everyone else wins.
user2: i think yn is right there with charles. maybe dancing.
user1: he always said she’d be at his wedding. he was right. i think there is still love there.
user5: FINISHED MY FUCK ASS EDIT PLEASE LIKE AND COMMENT ON TIKTOK BESTIES
user6: okay i wrote a little fic for ao3. it’s called ‘wait until you like me again’!! it’s domestic charlesyn as they are forced to work everything out. kinda angsty but really smutty.
user1: spamming u both charlesynnies are the best idc <3
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liked by ham1ltonshaderoom, landonorris and 1,827,983 others.
charles_leclerc: say hello to mr and mrs leclerc 💍
tagged: alexandrasaintmleux
view all 287,929 comments
yourusername: happy for you 💕
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INTERVIEW WITH CHARLES LECLERC
interviewer — so is it true? you’re renewing your ferrari contract?
charles (laughing) — it is true. racing is my life. this is it for me. it’d take something big to take me away from it.
interviewer: you all heard it here first!
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I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol
If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!
Best wishes
-🌟
I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)
Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
"Fantastic show tonight!"
The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.
"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin.
"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."
You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop.
Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.
Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.
So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.
"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.
That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.
When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged.
You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.
Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:
"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"
You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar.
"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"
As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.
"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.
"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously.
As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.
You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top.
"Should we leave?"
You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.
"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."
He grins at your last statement.
"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"
You nod.
"Then let's get you undressed, miss."
Is this what they call a scary dog privilege?
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