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Birthday blues | Jake Webber
warnings: none, just some angst towards the end.
No hate towards tara, I love her.
Word count: ( 2.0k)
You hated conflicts. You hated how people get upset, and say things they don't mean, and how they tend to not be friends after the whole argument. That's sort of what happening with you and your friend Jake Webber. You and Jake. You two have been friends since the end of time.
Ever since he moved to LA after high school. Your other friends Sam Golbach and Colby Brock had introduced the two of you guys at a party when he just moved. However, you didn't officially become friends a month later, when bumping into each other one after noon.
Now here you are, in 2019. It's your twentieth birthday! Normally you would be spending it with your family, however they are in your hometown, which sucks. It was late at night, and you were getting ready for a birthday party that your best friend Katrina Stuart was throwing you. She is talking to Sam Golbach, and you hope the two of them get together.
Getting a knock at your door, you open it and see her. "Come on slowpoke! It's nine, and I told people to be there in thirty minutes!" She yelled while grabbing your arm, making you instantly take your purse and locking the door behind you.
"Okay, chill! I love that you're throwing me a party, Kat!" You annonce as she enters her car, and you two are on yalls way. She nodded.
"Anything for you [y/n]. Plus, we got this huge cake that should last for days!" She joked as you two laughed and sang along to the song on the radio. Pulling up to Sam and Colby's house, called the traphouse, where your other friends are living too, you see tons of cars and are already hearing loud music.
"If the cops come, we should film." you say to her while walking up. Seeing that she's on her phone, instead of laughing at your joke, you ask who she's texting. "What's going on?" You ask as she spun you around to face her.
With her hands on your shoulders, she starts to speak. 'Please don't be mad, but this is a surprise party. Everyone's trying to find a place to hide, and yell hello," she told you whole moving her hands along to the story. You groaned.
Yes you did love surprises, however you hated being in the spotlight. That's why tonight you thought it was just going to be your friend group, and not people you didn't know at all, trying to crash your party. Hell, some people that are already there don't even know who you are.
"Fine, but if they try to prank me tonight, I am not going out to any kind of parties for a month!" you told her half-jokingly as she smiled, and sort of blinded you with her hands. Hearing a course of Happy Birthday you instantly had a smile on your face, trying to show them that you had no idea.
You saw the decorations. It was a classic color, purple, since it's your favorite, with all kinds of balloons, and party hats ( jake had two on making you laugh), with a photo booth on some wall. It was mainly just your friend group who was there to welcome you, and a new girl? Standing next to your best friend, making you a little upset.
Walking up to everyone you tried your best to put a smile on your face. Yes, Jake was your best friend, and he could bring any one he wanted but it was your day. Why would he bring a date, you don't know to your own birthday party. It made you sick. You didn't have a clue why you felt this way, maybe it's cause you started to form a small crush on him, but you told yourself it would go away, and it would never happen.
Making your way to him, he smiled while pulling you into a hug. Rubbing your hair, he put his second birthday hat on your, making you let out a fake groan as you pretended that the string hurt you.
"Oh hush! I know it didn't hurt." He said while playing along. You and Jake fit together like two peas in a pod. You two understood each other when no one else can, not even Kat or your other best friend Colby. As he pulled the short girl beside him closer, she tried to let out a friendly smile.
It's obvious that she was a little awkward to be here, and so are you. With the biggest grin on his face, he introduced the girl. "[y/n], this is Tara, the girl I was telling you about." He said as she smiled, while you shook her hand politely.
Ah, Tara. Yes, it all makes sense now. Ever since October Jake has been talking about a girl named Tara Yummy. How he makes her so happy, and how she does the same. That's when your feelings came in, rushing in a little too late. You were slightly hoping that she isn't nice, just so it won't hurt much, but however she is.
She's probably the sweetest person your have ever met that Jake had brought into your life. Before it was time for cake, and for you to blow out your candles, you and Tara were talking, along with Kat. Music was blaring so loud that you couldn't hear a lot, but it was fine. You could see Jake on the other side watching the three of you.
"Again, it's so nice to finally meet you, [y/n]. Almost every day Jake brings you up, and I get to meet his best friend. Sometimes I even think he likes you more than me, which might be a little weird since we are talking, I guess." Tara announced as you and Kat looked at each other.
"What?" you asked her as she took a sip of her drink.
"Yeah, he talks non-stop about you. I wonder if he ever talks that way about me to you guys," she says while giving a smile to Jake, and he does the same.
You shook your head not knowing what to say. Kat was the one to speak. "I'm sorry, but i've only heard about you now and like two days ago.... I don't -" as Kat was stopped by Tara she thought it was a good time for cake, not wanting to get into a argument with the girl. So many thoughts were racing through your head, along with the alcohol.
Why would Jake talk more about you instead of the girl he was seeing, and to make it worse she seems so nice- you were interrupted as they started singing the song, while taking videos and pictures, probably for posting on instagram later, but for memories.
Blowing out the last candle everyone cheered as you stood up, excusing yourself and going to the bathroom before you had a piece of cake.
Shutting the door, you ran our hands through your hair, not knowing what to think.
A knock was heard at the door. "[y/n}, I know you're in there. I just came because I know how much you like cake, and since you didn't get a piece yet, I just wanted to check on you." He said, slightly yelling. Not knowing if you should open it or not, you gave in and opened it, letting the boy in.
He closed the door, probably thinking that I conversation was about to happen. "how come you talk more about me to Tara? And you never really talk about her to us, huh?" You asked him while pacing around the big bathroom. "Why would you bring her here tonight, if you haven't even talked to her more than three times, Jake! I mean, come on it's not fair to her if you don't even like her-" As your ranting was put to a stop, you felt his lips on yours.
Kissing back, you held onto his shoulders, making him lean down a little to make it better for you guys, because of the height difference. Knowing what you two were doing you pushed him off you, making him stumble back, with a confused look on his face.
"[y/n] what was that for?" He asked confused, why you would break the kiss. "your in a relationship with Tara! You brought her here on my BIRTHDAY, and now your kissing me?" Before finishing you had to stop yourself from confessing.
He was fidgeting. "I'm not dating Tara. Sure it may look like it, but I don't feel the same way about her as I do to you!' He said while pointing his hands towards you. "I've liked you ever since I met you! I think Tara was just something to show me how I truly feel about you. I liked you [y/n], I love everything about you." He said making you think.
Moving to sit on the side of the bathtub, he sat in front of you. Waiting for your response. "What about Tara?" You ask as he sighs. "I'm going to talk to her tonight, after I drop her off." You finally looked towards him, wanting to make your own confession.
"I won't lie, ever since Tara came into conversation three months ago, I became really upset. I noticed it was because I liked you, and I just didn't realize it. What happens now?"
He gets up, and takes your hand. "Will you go out with me? I mean, after I settle things the right way with Tara, and tell her how I really feel?'' He asked as you smiled.
"Yes," you said while he pulled you into a quick kiss. "let's go have some cake." He said while making you smile and follow him downstairs.
#jake webber#xreader fic#birthday#agnst#trap house#colby brock#sam golbach#jake webber x reader#fights
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Lo'ak and older sister reader. fluff :)
Ronal grabs neytrir tail, next as tuk's arm. explain how weak they are kiri's hands where next. her eyes were now on Lo'ak, but before she could even reach the boys hand, a Woman Forest Navi, pushed Infront of him. eyes wide but pupils dilated troughing her hands forward toward the tashik.
"Y/n-" a hand was brought up to the boy's mouth silenceing quickly, as the two women stare each other down. Y/n held her head high, she was taller than just smaller than Ronal but that did not make her any less intimidating. she raises her hands to Ronal one of her feet, leaning back though in a protective stance. her tail whipped back and forth almost hurting her brothers.
That what Anoung notices this, his eyes darting towards his mother and Y/n. she raises one of Y/n arms, jake quickly adverted the crowd's attention away from his kids.
"Why would you do that? dads going to be so mad." Lo'ak whispers to Y/n almost hissing at her. Y/n turns her head to her smaller brother while rolling her eyes.
"You're my brother. I will protect you, And I do not care what our father says. even if I have to do more work. I am almost an adult in just a couple of months."
"Will you fly back to the forest?" Loak asks Y/n she chuckles and ruffles her brother hair slightly.
"I would not leave you, plus the guys here arn't too bad to look at..."
"EWWWWW!"
#loak#loak sully#avatar loak#loak fanfiction#x y/n#xreader fic#sully kids#sullys stick together#jake sully#neytiri#kiri avatar#atwow#avatar fanfiction#avatar 2009#avatar#ao'nung#aonung#aonung x reader#avatar ao'nung#avatar twow
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Volo wins; fights God... again... and again...
cw: injuries, blood, swearing, violence
Everything goes precisely to his plan. Almost too well.
With you beaten, he wrests from you the plates and at some silent, heaven-sent prompting, your flute. You watch as he holds the new, strange shape and raises it in a trance, playing an eerie tune.
His hands fall to his sides and he stands atop the dais, facing north, still but for his breathing and even then not unnaturally so.
It's the little twitches in his fingers, knees, and spine that keep you there in the end. They remind you of sun-baked naps in the fieldlands, and watching your pokemon partner writhe in its sleep as though running in place or pouncing in a backstrike attack.
After maybe two minutes, he jolts, gasping raggedly. He stumbles, clutching at the front of his tunic, but just as quickly recovers. He looks around in a daze and spots you.
You haven't moved far, just to the foot of the dais' stairs, arms crossed and leaning on one hip. The wind is cutting, but this uniform has gotten you through worse; his tunic, however, is far flimsier.
"What the hell," he grits out after a beat, "was that thing?"
You blink, scrunching up your face before taking a shot in the dark. "Big white thing, gold ring, surprisingly dainty feet?"
Jaw clenched, he nods. His visible eye, shocked from that state of perfect mania, is shadowed by his glare but – no, that purple smear is actually the beginning of a black eye. How could...
Shaking off the thought, you shrug insolently, exaggerating an expression of disaffect. "That'd be Arceus."
Volo's face twists in a sneer, turning back around and giving the flute another, shakier playing.
He's... under longer this time, and after almost ten minutes of standing, stretching, and huffing annoyance you walk back up the stairs.
He jolts again, stumbling forward this time, and for a split second, you could swear something like steam wafts from his back. When he regains his footing, Volo whirls on you.
"Why," he growls, "am I fighting Arceus?"
Your brows jump. A glance away, then a vague gesture to the rubble and debris around you, "I mean, it kind of tracks."
Volo throws up his hands, turns, and has to draw a long, calming breath before he can steadily play the flute again.
Now, you're curious. And curiosity had seen you fill out pages upon pages of dex notes to be compiled by Professor Laventon later. In comparison, waiting around is no great feat.
Still, you're not about to do it standing.
You fold your legs to sit crisscross on the cold marble and, after another few minutes just watching him twitch and breathe harshly, plant your chin on a fist set against your knee.
Volo rouses again a moment later, not stumbling but panting as he turns. "I can battle it, why can I –"
He stops, looks down to meet your gaze, and, huh, that's a shiner all right.
The sight of your scrutiny has his jaw setting stubbornly again, freehand clenching. You note that his sextet of pokeballs is still at his waist, just above the spot where the metallic jut of gold splits off. The odd accent swings a bit when he once more ignores you.
When he goes under once more, you contemplate reflecting on everything leading up to this, but in all honesty, most of the betrayal and hurt had been worked out of your system in that grueling battle. So, reminded to heal up your team, you instead start puzzling out what's going on here.
The first strange fact is that he needed your flute. Whatever he's doing now, it was meant for you. Was it lucky or unlucky you had been training up a mid-stage evolution on the way up Mt. Coronet? The poor thing hadn't stood a chance against Volo's team, so battling Arceus probably wouldn't have gone great for you, either.
But, as he resurfaces and dives twice in the next half hour, it certainly seemed like something you could... keep trying at. Hell, with Lord Wyrdeer you could have gone to camp, switched out team members and returned in this same span of time twice over.
Volo doesn't seem the type to have many bench picks. Each of his pokemon were either a powerhouse or set-up players, tasked with paralyzing or hypnotizing. It's damn efficient, but you could likely counter it easily now.
He emerges next to immediately bend at the waist, hands on his knees as he struggles to catch his wind.
"Wanna rematch?" you ask, and he barely glances back before snarling wordlessly and diving again. In a mutter, "so-or-ry mister hates-god-so-much he's gotta cosplay about it."
Speaking of, that wack updo seems to be taking some strays, wilting, and now beginning to frazzle at the paler blond tips. That wisp of steam wasn't unique either; the flare of fabric off his left shoulder has been singed something fierce from behind.
Your harried quelling of Lord Arcanine springs to mind; Cyllene had to replace your entire uniform, leaving your first week in the highlands a miserably cold experience. Ol' Ingo had even lent you his tattered jacket.
Your head cocks, and you straighten a little as some pieces fall together. In facing great Palkia, you barely had time to question the sudden appearance of a sack of balms to hurl at it. That first charge was killer.
Volo returns and it's not pretty. A few scattered drops of blood have you looking up sharply just before he gasps awake, immediately grasping his face and throwing his head back.
"Don't move!" he barks at the barest shift of your legs against the stone. Around his now limp bangs, you see him pinching the bridge of his nose, and the drip of blood is stemmed. He doesn't dive again immediately.
"Are you huckin' balms?"
"What?"
"Balms. The li'l sacks of whatever that helped quell the nobles," you say. You pinch the fabric at your ankles to keep from fidgeting further. "I had to use them on Palkia, too, remember?"
Volo's shoulders hunch. In silence, he waits another few minutes before hazarding to relax, and then still stays mum until he dives again.
By now, it's been long enough for the shadows among the rubble to shift and finally peeved enough at his refusal you stand up, dusting yourself off some. You walk over, a little wary now that you know what he's capable of, and walk around to Volo's front.
Definitely a nosebleed. There's still some tacky drying blood on his nostrils, a smear below it where he's cleaned some away. It doesn't look broken, and other than some new singeing and tears in his baffling outfit he looks no worse for wear. You take a step back, just in case, but after a while his face twists in concentration, eyes flicking about behind his lids, and you assume he'll be a while.
Coronet is still frigid, and the sun is starting to tick down toward the horizon. The cloud cover below the peak is thin enough that you make out the edge of the eastern sea carving into the shore in its myriad bites, like a wurmple munching leaf litter.
After crossing your arms, tapping your foot, and finally huffing a sigh, you find where he had haphazardly thrown his uniform and pack on the far stone lip of the dais. The latter is far heavier than he ever treated it, and you're just beginning to help yourself to its contents when he seizes into waking.
"Fuck," he bites out, follow by a spit and a small splat. "Fuck, fuck, fu– what are you doing?"
You turn to find honest bafflement on his face, which you return when you see the state of him. In the mere moments you were turned away, he looks like he’s been dragged down the face of Mt. Coronet.
His tunic is dirtied, threadbare at the hems, the metal pieces at his hips scuffed and dull, and his strappy sandals in shambles. From what you can see, he’s got something like rug-burn on his forearms, and the blood he spat looks to have come from a split lip.
The pecha berry you’ve pilfered from his supplies falls from your mouth, painting the dais with a different shade of red.
“I was– you–,” you stutter out, dropping the pack to bark, “what the hell is happening to you?!”
He glances down, seemingly taking in the changes for the first time. He remains struck dumb as you cross the dais toward him, looking up sharply when you stop within arms’ length. Lip curling, he says lowly, “Going to stop me?”
“I don’t need to,” you say, jaw setting, “I doubt I’d have to see the ‘other guy’ to know you’re losing.”
“I’m not,” he snaps, and how the hell did you manage to forget the way he looms over you, brow shadowed and gaze sharp as a filleting knife. ”I’m adjusting strategies. The more often I battle it the faster I can wea–”
He stops, scowling.
Your patience runs out.
“Oh, by all means,” you laugh, throwing your hands up, “keep your secrets, Volo!”
You can see his molars grinding. “Why are you still here?”
As much as you try, you can’t avoid the deafening pause that gives you. Then, with a jut of your chin to his occupied hand, “To take that back.”
The unspoken, when you fail, has him hackling. His hand swipes out at you as if to lift you by the collar, but you’re fresh-faced in comparison and dart out of reach. What stops him, however, is you palming a pokeball.
Above a bruised smear, his grey eye lingers, and you wonder if – assuming everything is transferring between here and there – his team is weakened; if he’s even able to heal them.
And damn, damn, damn you, you feel a pang in your chest. His pokemon don’t deserve this, whatever this is.
Without responding, his gaze shutters, ignoring that you’re right in front of him to play the flute once again. His knuckles are bloody, and one of his fingers might be sprained or even broken going by the shade of burgundy.
He’s under before you can get another word out.
You bellow something wordless and sharp, and feeling your tension lighten (and seeing he doesn’t react) you decide to seize a rare opportunity.
At the peak of Mt. Coronet, in the ruins of a temple that’s outlived her people, you let loose a railing, cursing tirade that falls just short of therapeutic. It leaves you raw and ragged, and your throat roughened too, and even after half an hour the bastard still isn’t back.
The sun is really dropping now, dipping below the cloud-cover and its warmth and rosy-copper glow with it. Early-bird stars begin to peak out of the darkening sky, and just before you throw his bedroll down to colonize it for your own you find yourself sourly throwing his fur-cuffed coat back over his shoulders. The chattering of his teeth diminishes.
Over the course of another hour, you sit, then lounge, recline, and finally lay back on the bedroll, and start tossing your partner’s pokeball up and catching it. You contemplate letting them join you, for all this about-face might beffudle them, and then allow yourself to actually consider his question.
Why would you stay, after all this? He’s used you day in and day out ever since he sicced you on that Vespiquen like some over-zealous houndour, and now he’s gotten what he wanted.
And yet, especially when his actual success has yet to manifest, some childish part of you thinks he might still come back around.
It was – it was fucking nice, alright? Having an actual companion these last few weeks, rather than crisscrossing the region with nothing but your team and a pokedex. Hiking hither and yon, hearing his rambling accounts of old legends over a campfire, waking up to just see him – every little thing helped distract you from the fact you had a direct line to Arceus and still had to wonder if you were ever going to remember your old life, if you were going to die he–
Volo collapses to his knees.
You’re upright in a heartbeat, eyes like saucers as he casts the flute aside to begin slamming the meat of his fists against the marble.
After a chance to find air, pulling it in like something half-drowned, he lets out a cry to rival your own.
In the moment before he finds the control to speak, you realize his tunic is in tatters, blackened at every edge and pocked by burns as though he’s caught stray pyroclastics while ascending Firespit. His metal adornments are bent and broken at his hips, and the cuffs are warped and dented – likely crushing his wrists. His sandals are unsalvageable.
“Why, you beast?!” he roars, coming out grating as it bounces directly off the marble beneath him. He hammers his fist again, and this time leaves a smear of scarlet behind. “The Celestica live in me, so why – why do you strike me down, again and again?”
You roll off the cushion, palms and knees on cold stone as you venture to approach. You feel like a raw nerve, and he a live wire – any word, any touch and you’ll both catch fire.
And you don’t want to fight him, you realize. Not again. Not any longer.
“I devoted myself to you, worshipped you as highest creator, even as your silence stretched year after year,” he snarls, and his knuckles drill into a seam in the marble pushing more and more blood to the surface and finally breaking skin. He shudders, but doesn’t stop, fading to a weaker moan, “After everything I’ve done…”
“H-hey, it’s– it’s gonna be–” you start, and his head jerks upright.
Around the grey iris and pinpoint pupil, a bloom of crimson creeps into the white of his eye, a stain that takes you a moment to realize is blood within the cornea.
His nose bears a small horizontal split and weeps red, spilling over his lips and staining his teeth when he bears them at you in something hair-raising, something feral.
"You," he snarls, his next words flinging red-tinted spittle, "you outsider, cast down to stop me and couldn't even manage that. Wh-why do you have the blessing of Arceus?!"
"Do you call this a blessing?" you ask, shocked by your own cool tone when it feels like a stone has been chained to your chest. You gesture sharply at him, even as you're still cataloging the bruises, the split skin on the right side of his scalp, "Do you think I would fair any better, even if I succeeded?"
Volo pauses, but sneers still as he reaches beneath the coat to pull that smoky, purple plate from the remains of his gilded belt.
"Rebel beast," he growls, ignoring you once more, "sovereign of Distortion, come – come and aid me in this final stand."
The imperious timbre is lost to the slow dribble of crimson, painting the plate yet inspiring no shaking of the mountain or unearthly arrival.
The twilit sky does not shatter, nor do shadows spill forth; the quiet broken only by the animal keen Volo makes as he slams the plate against the stone. Once, twice, and not a scuff or chip earned. Finally he throws it away as well and buries his tacky-stained hands into his hair, hiding his face.
"Discarded even by the banished, bastard child."
"Hey now," you mutter lightly, "no need to impugn anyone’s honor. Not the time for making new enemies."
Volo rocks back onto his knees, dragging his hands away and tipping his chin. Even as starlight seeks out its silver, his gaze finds the heavens in a grotesque of bitter mourning.
"You… you're a fool," he says, dully. "Of all people, Arceus chose you. It's…"
"Fucking tragic, innit?"
His eye flicks down to find you and even swaddled in sorrow the look is so deeply droll as to set you snickering. It builds to laughter as you tip backward onto your rump, wiping at your dewy eyelashes once you recover. As you do, you see Volo frowning down at himself, fingering the hem of the coat flung over his shoulders.
In a fit of pique, you catch him off guard with a half-earnest kick at his shoulder, spilling him onto his ass as well.
"That's for tricking me," you snip at his scowling affront. "Be glad we both failed in the whole ending-slash-saving the world, you prick."
Volo's fine-boned features contort further as he bristles into another furor, snapping, "I have not failed yet, you little–"
"And I'll stop you again," you sniff, tossing your arms over your knees in a petulant spread. "Or, y'know, God will. Mysterious ways and all that shit."
In the face of unimpeachable insolence, his face drops into little more than a curled lip. Leaning back on the hands he'd flung out to catch himself, his slackening posture is dramatic, even for him. Once again, even with the coat his airy tunic and loose-fit pants set him shuddering with cold.
After a moment, he mutters, "Do you mean to tell me this world, as foul and cruel as it can be, doesn't need to be remade?"
"Well," you say, sing-songing the word as you swivel to get your knees under you again. You shuffle toward him, and begin to hem-and-haw, "I think, if I'm so bold to speak on multiple behalves, that what's being said is… whether or not it needs to be, whether or not it can…"
You trail off, seeing him hang on the answer enough to surge forward. The moment you tuck your arms under his, he spreads them in shock. You worm into his space, angled so you’re at least not in his lap, and his shivering ceases. He stiffens but doesn't pull away, and as his arms cautiously find your shoulders and back, you can hear the note of wetness in his breathing.
"We're saying it shouldn't be," you finally surmise, hiding a grin in his chest as his massive frame turns to cotton in your arms. "And what things should be changed can be done together."
(this will get posted on Ao3 tomorrow, alongside the NSFW post-fic)
#pokemon legends arceus volo#pokemon legends arceus#volo#pla volo#volo/reader#voloxreader#xreader fic#volo x reader#pokemon#pokemon wielder volo
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hey guys, sorry to have to do this, but rent's coming up, i am still unemployed, and our only car needs $1,000+ in repairs (plus i still want to rescue that stray cat if i ever see him again. it's so cold outside ;_; )
i've just set up my ko-fi with some slots for short xreader fics: they start at $5 for a 3-5+ paragraph drabble. all the characters available on this blog are available there. i'm also willing to do some OC/canon fics, but those will be few and far between - gotta make sure i vibe with and can actually write your Oc!
anyway here's my sale's pitch
tumblr followers: have you already sent in a request that hasn't been filled yet? really want to see that older request get filled? this is a great way to do that!
don't have a fic request but still want to help? first off bless your soul you can donate to me here: cashapp: $DoodleBlood venmo: @/DoodleBlood
#commissions open#requests open#fic requests#ko fi shop#cheap commissions#kofi commission#buy me a kofi#lgbt artist#lgbt writers#x reader#x reader fic#xreader#xreader fic#help needed#my roomie and i have been surviving off of his paycheck and my meager savings for like 2 months#never had this much trouble getting a job smh#been spoiled#anyway rent's acomming#so of course his car breaks lmao#got less than 1k to my name which admittedly....it's been worse#just ugh#anyway#help if you can#boost if you can't#bless y'all for being so sweet all the time too#idk if i've ever told y'all that#ur all great and i hope you dream about smooching ur fave tonight#not a fic
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•Normalize Fanart for Fanfics Again You Fools•
It's not cringe anymore (it SHOULDN'T be cringe anymore), just do it. You're doing something you enjoy, who cares what anybody else says! So spread the words my fellow internet brethren.
Spread the Word :)
#fanfic#fanfiction#fanart#normalizefanartforfanfics#normalize fanart for fanfics#wattpad#archive of our own#ao3#fanfiction.net#quotev#crossover#crossovers#fandom#fandoms#readerinsert#reader insert#xreader#x reader#oc#oc's#au#alternate universe#podfic#fic rec#fanart for fanfic#fanartforfanfic#fanart for others#fan fiction#fan fic writing#fanfic fanart
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You’re Mine | Charles Leclerc
WC: 6K
Possessive!Charles x Innocent!reader
Summery: You’re Arthur’s childhood BFF, you’ve been around the Leclerc for years before you had to move away. But now you’re back for a few months, not knowing that you’re here to stay.
Warning: Manipulation, jealousy, toxic relationships, more things to come.
AN: Honestly I have no idea what I feel a bout this, I’m not 100% satisfied. I may delete it later. my fist attempt at a dark fic.
Also, this was requested a very long time ago, I lost the request, though.
Masterlist
Charles Masterlist
Growing up in Monaco, you went to the same school as Arthur Leclerc. Arthur, with his messy brown hair and infectious laughter, was your closest friend. Your friendship began in a playground and quickly formed an unbreakable bond. You’d always race your bikes down narrow lanes, building sandcastles on Larvotto beach, or exploring the markets with insatiable curiosity. You two were inseparable.
Your families met because of your bond, and they formed their own friendships. It was due to the closeness that your families formed that you got to meet his brothers.
You saw Charles and Arthur karting, and you;d go with them from time to time, but while they were competitive and wanted to do it for life, you just wanted to join them and have fun. One of the reasons you and Arthur got so close is because you got into what the other liked and had fun while doing it.
Yet, in the background of your friendship with Arthur was your crush on his older brother, Charles. Charles is older by a few years and carried an air of confidence that captivated your young heart. He always seemed so cool, had that unattainable air around him, his striking looks and natural charm didn’t help. He was the epitome of everything you admired, but to him you were just his little brother’s friend, a mere child.
Charles has always been so sweet with you, and no matter how much time passed the blush that always graced your cheeks around him always stayed, it was permanent whenever he was in the same room as you.
You remember vividly the simmer afternoons spent at the Leclerc household. Arthur would always drag you along to play video games or just spend time together, while Charles, often busy with his racing aspirations, would give you a smile. Those moments, however brief and meaningless in the scheme of things, fouled your childish infatuation. You watched him from a distance, never expecting to actually catch his attention one day.
You thought you were discreet with your crush, but once you’re out of earshot, the adults would always joke about it, your mums dreaming of being one family one day and planning the wedding. It amused them to see how much you hung on every world Charles said and looked at him as if he was an angel, and how oblivious Charles was.
You remember the day your world turned upside down very well, it’s etched in your memory. Your father announced out of the blue, “We’re relocating to New York.” He said, excitement in his voice. The news felt like a punch to the gut. You were only twelve, but the thought of leaving Arthur and your familiar world behind was devastating.
“We’ll stay in touch, promise?” Arthur, who was equally crushed by news said his voice was shaky but he was determined. You both exchanged trinkets as tokens of your friendship. A bracelet from you and a racing car from him.
“Always.” You replied, tears brimming your eyes.
The move was a whirlwind, and soon you found yourself in the concrete jungle of New York City, a stark contrast to the serene beauty of Monaco. Despite the distance, you and Arthur remained in touch. Long phone calls, video chats, and countless messages kept your friendship alive. You shared your experiences, your struggles, and your triumphs, growing up together despite the miles between you.
Years passed, and your infatuation with Charles dimmed to a fond memory as you immerse yourself in your new life. But as you matured, you often wondered how different things might have been if you had stayed in Monaco. The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a faint but persistent echo of your childhood dreams.
Now, at twenty-one, you stood at a crossroads, ready to reconnect with the past. The opportunity to return to Europe for a summer was too enticing to pass up. Once Arthur heard about it he was ecstatic at the prospect of you two meeting again, and plans were quickly made for your grand reunion. The anticipation of seeing him again, of revisiting the places that shaped your childhood, filled you with excitement and a touch of nostalgia.
Little did you know, this trip would be more than just a walk down memory lane. It would be a journey that would intertwine your fate with Charles once more, in ways you could never have imagined.
The plane descended towards the Côte d'Azur Airport, and as you gazed out the window, your heart raced with anticipation. The Mediterranean's blue expanse sparkled below, the coastline of Monaco coming into view. It had been a decade since you'd seen these familiar sights, but they felt like a distant yet vivid memory.
After clearing customs, you wheeled your suitcase through the bustling terminal. Your excitement was palpable, mingled with the nervousness of reuniting with a childhood friend after so long. Would Arthur have changed much? Would your bond still be as strong? It has been the same online but, being face to face could be different.
Stepping out into the arrivals area, you scanned the crowd. And there he was, Arthur Leclerc, standing tall with that same mischievous grin you remembered. His hair was a bit shorter, his features more mature, but the spark in his eyes was unmistakable. A spark that video class couldn’t carry.
“Y/N!” Arthur called out, his voice filled with joy. You waved back, and in moments, you were enveloped in a tight hug.
"Arthur! It's so good to see you." You said, pulling back to take in his appearance. “You’re so tall now.”
"It’s good to see you! You look amazing." He replied, his eyes shining with genuine warmth. "I can't believe it's been ten years, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too.” You say tearing up, Arthur’s eyes get glossy as well, and you’re hugging once again, this time you stay in each other’s arms for a bit longer.
“Come on, let's get you out of here and catch up." Arthur says after you pull back, he takes your bags and heads to his car.
The drive from the airport to Monaco was filled with laughter and stories, both of you eager to fill in the gaps of the years apart, things that haven’t been said on calls. Arthur had grown into a confident young man, his passion for racing more intense than ever. You shared your adventures in New York, the highs and lows, and the dreamlike quality of returning to Europe.
As you arrived in Monaco, a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The narrow streets, the bustling harbour, the luxurious buildings. It was all like you remembered, yet with a sense of newness. Arthur drove you to his family's home, where you'd be staying.
Stepping inside, you were hit with memories of your childhood. The familiar scent of the house, the photos on the walls, it was like stepping back in time. Arthur took your bags to a room in a house, before you followed him.
“Y/N!” A delighted voice came from the kitchen as you walked in. Pascale Leclerc, Arthur’s mother, emerged with a warm smile. She looked hardly changed, still radiating the same kindness and elegance you remembered.
“Mama Pascale!” you exclaimed, rushing to hug her.
“It’s been too long, mon ange” She said, hugging you tightly. “Look at you! All grown up and even more beautiful.”
You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. It feels like coming home.”
“We’ve missed you around here. Arthur has talked non-stop about your visit.” Pascale’s eyes twinkled.
Arthur rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, she’s finally here. And I’ve got big plans to show her around.”
“I’m sure you do. But first, let’s get you settled in.” Pascale laughed. Arthur led you to your room.
“You’ll be staying in Charles’s old room.” He said, opening the door. “He moved out a while ago, but we’ve kept it nice for guests.”
The room was spacious and neatly arranged, with a large window offering a stunning view of the city below. It felt both strange and intimate to be staying in Charles’s old room, surrounded by remnants of his past, trophies, posters, and photos of his racing career.
“Wow.” You said, looking around. “This is amazing.”
Arthur grinned. “Glad you like it. Make yourself at home. We’ve got dinner in a bit, and then I’ll show you around the house.”
After freshening up, you joined the Leclerc family for dinner, minus Charles and Enzo who were out of Monaco for a race. The meal was filled with laughter and stories, and you felt a warmth that you’d missed in New York. Pascale’s cooking was as delicious as you remembered, and the conversation flowed easily, with Arthur and his mother making you feel like you’d never left.
Later, Arthur gave you a tour of the house. As you walked through the house, memories flooded back, each room telling a story of your shared past. You spent the first week catching up, going to your favourite sports when you were young, going into Nice, meeting his friends and having the time of your lives.
"Guess what?" Arthur said with a twinkle in his eye as you joined him in the living room, one afternoon. "I've got a surprise for you."
"A surprise?" You echoed, curious.
“Charles got us tickets for the Spain race next weekend.”
“Race?” Your heart skipped a beat. “That sounds incredible, thank you Arthur.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Charles when we see him.” Arthur shrugged off your gratitude.
”I will.” You say softly, a hint of nervousness hits you.
That evening, you and Arthur walked along the promenade, reminiscing about old times. The city was alive with activity, the sound of laughter and music filling the air. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging, a feeling you'd missed more than you realised, making you want to move back here and not return to New York after the summer.
You flew to Spain with Arthur, it was like going on a trip with your best friend after speaking about it for years, the trip made it out of the chat. You made it for qualifying day, you dressed casually, but delicately. Your style is very feminine, yet stylish, and you weren’t afraid to show some skin here and there.
You followed Arthur through the vibrant energy of the race circuit. The roar of engines, the cheers of the crowd, it was electrifying. Arthur was in his element, greeting fellow racers and team members with ease.
As you walked through the paddock, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Turning, you met the gaze of the one and only Charles Leclerc. He was standing with his team, his attention focused entirely on you. Time seemed to freeze. The boy you once had a crush on was now a strikingly handsome man, exuding charisma and confidence.
Charles hadn’t looked you up on social media so he had no idea how you looked after 10 years. Yet, he had no doubt in his mind that the female Arthur was walking with is you. His eyes ran over your cream sundress with small flowers on it, the straps were thin and there was a slit up your thigh. With every step Charles could see your leg peaking through.
Charles approached, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Arthur, who's this?” He asked, though his gaze suggested he already knew.
”Y/n, you remember her from school, she moved to New York.” Arthur grinned.
"Of course, Y/N. You've...changed a lot." He said, his voice heavy, thick.
“Well, I’m not eleven anymore.” You say with a sweet smile.
”Clearly.” Charles says under his breath, you’re more beautiful up close. “Welcome back.”
”Thanks, Charlie, it’s good to be back.” Your heart fluttered, the old nickname slipping so easily from your lips. Charles had to swallow and force a smile, it’s been seconds since he saw you again, and you already have some type of effect on him.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement. You watched the quali with Arthur, cheering loudly as cars zoomed by, the drivers skillfully navigating the track. It was exhilarating, a stark reminder of the world you'd once been so close to. Charles qualified P2. You weren’t able to see him for the rest of the day, due to briefing, and strategy meetings.
The next day during a break, Arthur introduced you to some of his friends, including a few drivers. You chatted amiably, feeling the warmth of their welcome. But all the while, you were acutely aware of Charles' presence. His gaze followed you, filled with something more intense.
At one point, you found yourself alone with him in the team’s hospitality area. Charles leaned against the table, his eyes locked onto yours.
"So, what do you think of everything so far?" He asked, his voice smooth.
"It's amazing." You replied, trying to steady your nerves. "I've missed this energy."
"I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s good to see you again, Y/N. You’ve grown up." He smiled, a slow, deliberate smile that sent a shiver down your spine. The way he said it, made your heart race. There was a hint of something possessive in his tone, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it is.
"Thank you, Charles. You’ve...changed too."
”Here give me your phone, so I can put my number in.” Charles held out his hand and you gave him your phone. Charles quickly punched in his phone number and saved it. You were distracted by some shouting some people were doing and didn’t see what he was doing, giving Charles the perfect opportunity to send himself your live location and delete it from your chat. “Here you go.”
”Great.” Before you could delve deeper into the conversation, Arthur returned.
"Ready to head back?" He asked, looking between you and Charles with a knowing smile.
"Yeah, let's go." You said, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment.
Back in Monaco the days flew by in a whirlwind of races, dinners, and nostalgic explorations with Arthur. Yet, no matter where you went, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Charles’ eyes on you. Always watching you.
Charles would appear at the cafe where you and Arthur were having lunch, or join you for a spontaneous outing. His attention felt flattering, a validation of the childhood crush you’d once harboured.
One afternoon, you were walking around Monaco, before you had to meet Arthur after his appointment. While you were walking Charles found you and took the liberty to stay with you. Charles suggested a walk along the harbour, and you agreed, enjoying the idea of catching up with him.
As you strolled along the waterfront, Charles’ hand brushed against yours. The first time you deemed it an accident, but as it kept happening, that childish blush you used to have in his presence reappeared.
“You know.” He began, his voice low and serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you since you came back.”
”Really?” You looked up at him, surprised by his tone.
”Yes.” He said, his eyes darkening slightly, but he gave you a slight smile to cover up his inner thoughts from showing. “I can’t help but feel protective of you, you’ve grown up so much, and… well, I don’t like the idea of you being here alone, so just whenever Arthur is busy just call me, yeah?”
”Yeah, I will.” You continued walking with Charles, when a store caught your eyes. "Charlie, can we go into that store?"
“Of course.” You and Charles head into the boutique. Charles places his hand on your back as he guides you in the shop. Your cheeks flushed, you thought he'd remove his hand once you're inside the shop but his hands stayed there. Charles followed you around the shop as you looked at all the trinkets, a vintage jewellery box gaining your attention.
“Charlie, look, isn't it cute?” You pick up the box and open it, turning to show the man behind you, Charles's hand stays on you, but it moves from your back to your waist.
“It's very cute.” You look up only to see him looking at you, you bite your bottom lip to stop the smile from forming on your face, Charles' eyes fall onto your lips before they go back to your eyes. You turn back around and look through the shelves, smiling to yourself now that he couldn't see your face. Or so you thought, Charles caught your smile in one of the mirrors on the shelf. He was happy that he made you smile, your smile is so sweet he wants it all to himself. After a bit of browsing you end up with a couple things that you liked. The guy at the till smiles at you, Charles' jaw clenches. Charles' hands drop from your back to his pocket he takes out his card and hands it
to the guy.
“Charliee, I can pay.” You whine and try to give the guy your card, but Charles takes your hand in his and drops it.
“You're never paying when I'm with you, amour.” You pout but put your card back in your small bag you carried with you, trying not to over think the pet name he called you. Charles takes the bag from the cashier and you both head out, this time Charles' arm is around your shoulder. You're walking closer to each other now. Closer than before for sure.
“Thank you.” You tell him after a moment of silence, you look up at him and his face is much closer to yours now with his arm around your shoulder. “F-for buying me this, and-and for keeping me company with Arthur being busy.”
“Any time, whenever Arthur is busy just call me I'll always keep you company.” Charles says with a charming smile, reiterating what he said earlier. “Even if you want to take a break from him just tell me."
“I will.” You say with a giggle.
It was another race week and you're invited, Arthur was with his friends in F2, and so you decided to stick with Charles for most of the day. He introduced you to Rebecca and so you sat with her for lunch before KiKa also joined you and soon also Lily came. The girls were super polite they didn't ask you what your relationship with Charles, they all went through fazes of wanting to keep their relationship private, and
not confirming anything. Charles knew what he was doing, he was walking through the paddock to go from one place to the other when he saw the female gathering, he walked up behind you placing his hand on your shoulder. You look up startled before smiling when you see Charles, he greets the ladies. He leans to whisper in your ear.
“Do you need anything?”
“No thank you, don't worry about me.”
“Hard not to.: He says before he gives everyone one last smile and he leaves. The girls all share knowing looks, but keep their thoughts to themselves. It's been a while since Charles has been in a relationship, but they can see the signs.
When Charles finished his duties and heads back to where you are, he stops dead in his tracks. You're talking with Lando, smiling at what he's saying.
"Come on, mate, it's just Lando." Carlos who was walking with his teammate said seeing the look on Charles' face. He's not happy, at all. Why is Lando talking to you? Didn't he know you're with him? What could he be saying that's so funny? Lando isn't that funny. Charles walks up to you and places his hand around your shoulder, Leaving Carlos to go talk to his own girlfriend.
"Hey, I see you met y/n." Charles says with a cold smile.
"Yeah, I was telling her about Quadrent." Lando said, he picked up on Charles' demeanour and it left him confused, Charles is always kind, and easy going. He's never cold or standoffish.
"Why?" Charles asks and you look up at him confused.
"Charlie." You mumble softly, he glances down at you before his eyes settle back on Lando, who looked very uncomfortable at the moment like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "I asked him what he does when he's not racing."
"Hmm, okay, we have to go." Charles says and doesn't leave room for argument before he steers you away from the conversation and Lando.
"That was a bit rude." You mumble to Charles, he sighs and looks at you for a moment.
"I was just trying to protect you."
"From what?"
"Look, stay away from Lando, he was only talking to you because he wants to be with you." Charles tells you with so much assurance, like what he's saying is a fact.
"What? I don't think so." You frown, going over the conversation you just had with the British man, nothing standing out to you.
"Amour, I know Lando, believe me when I say he had anterior motives." You weren't 100% convinced, Charles stopped and turned you to face him, his hands on your shoulders. "Who knows Lando better?" He asked you.
"You do."
"Who knows his history with women?"
"You do.”
"Then believe me, when I say him talking with you wasn't innocent." You nod, believing him. I mean why would he lie to you? There's no reason for him to do that. You trust Charles.
The sun dipped low over Monaco, casting a warm golden glow across the city. You were sitting with Arthur at a cosy café near the harbour, sipping on an iced coffee and catching up on the latest gossip. Arthur was recounting a particularly amusing story from the paddock when you felt a familiar presence approaching.
Charles strolled up to your table, his smile bright and confident. "Hey, Arthur. Y/N," he greeted, his eyes lingering on you. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all, pull up a chair." Arthur waved him over.
As Charles sat down, you couldn't help but notice the way his gaze seemed to drink you in. It was intense but not entirely uncomfortable. You smiled shyly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.
"So, Y/N." Charles began, leaning forward slightly, "I've been thinking. You've been back in Monaco for a while now, and I haven't really had the chance to take you out properly."
"Oh?" Your heart skipped a beat, is this really happening?
Arthur grinned, sensing what was coming. "Sounds like someone has an idea."
"I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me this weekend.” Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Just the two of us. I want to show you around, maybe take you to a nice dinner. What do you say?"
You felt your cheeks flush with excitement. The boy you had once idolized was now a man, standing before you and asking you out on a date. The crush you thought you'd outgrown resurfaced, stronger than ever. You bit your lip, trying to contain your giddiness.
"I'd love to." You replied, your voice almost a whisper.
Charles' smile widened, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven?"
"Seven it is." You agreed, your heart fluttering.
Arthur chuckled, giving you a playful nudge. "Looks like you have a date."
”Shut up.” You say under your breath fighting the blush that was a permanent fixture on your face. Arthur laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at you.
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of conversation and laughter, but you couldn't shake the excitement bubbling inside you. Charles' invitation had lit a spark in you, one that had been dormant for years. You felt a renewed sense of anticipation, eager to see where this evening would lead.
When the weekend arrived, you found yourself nervously preparing for the date. You chose a dress that was elegant yet understated, wanting to strike the perfect balance. As you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you couldn't help but smile at your reflection. This was it, the night you had been waiting for.
Right on time, Charles arrived at the Leclerc home, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit. He greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes filled with admiration.
"You look stunning." He said, offering his arm.
"Thank you." You replied, feeling the blush return to your cheeks.
As you walked to his Ferrari, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. The car roared to life, and soon you were speeding through the streets of Monaco, the city's lights twinkling around you. Charles drove with ease, occasionally glancing over at you with a smile.
He took you to a luxurious restaurant perched on a hill, offering breathtaking views of the city below. The maître d' greeted Charles warmly, leading you to a private table by the window. The ambiance was perfect, soft music, candlelight, and a stunning vista.
Throughout dinner, Charles was the perfect gentleman. He asked about your life in New York, genuinely interested in your stories. You talked about your friends, and the adventures you'd had. In turn, he shared his experiences on the racing tracks, the highs and lows of his career. The conversation flowed effortlessly, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment.
After dinner, Charles suggested a walk along the harbour. The cool night air was refreshing, and the city seemed to glow under the moonlight. As you strolled side by side, you felt a sense of contentment, like everything was falling into place.
Charles stopped by the edge of the water, turning to face you. "I've really enjoyed tonight," he said softly. "It's been wonderful getting to know you again, Y/N."
"I've enjoyed it too." You replied, your heart racing.
"I hope we can do this again. Soon." He took your hand, his touch gentle but firm.
“I'd like that, Charles." You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness.
As he walked you back to his car, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging. Charles opened the door for you, and as you slid into the seat, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special.
The drive back to the Leclerc home was quiet, filled with comfortable silence. When you arrived, Charles walked you to the door, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.
"Goodnight, Y/N." He said, his voice filled with promise.
"Goodnight, Charles." You replied, your heart full.
As you watched him drive away, you felt a sense of joy and anticipation. The night had been perfect, a dream come true. And as you lay in bed, replaying every moment, you couldn't help but smile.
Waking up the next day you open your phone and find your social media accounts which are private and full of follow requests and DM requests. You’re so confused, before you open Twitter and see pictures of you and Charles last night on a the date everywhere. You groan and lean down in bed closing your eyes.
Charles is happy with himself, those paparazzi he leaked his date info to, did a good job, taking pictures in angles that made it look like you two were kissing at one point, and much closer than you were. Now everyone will know that you’re his. His plan is working, now what he has to do is get you to come stay at his house.
One evening you found yourself at a glamorous cocktail party, filled with drivers and Monaco's high society. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, leaving very little for the imagination. Many eyes looked your way when you passed. And of course, Charles was by your side, his arm firmly around your waist.
As you chatted with one of the drivers from F2, you felt Charles' grip tightening. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. The driver complimented your dress, and you laughed lightly, thanking him, a slight blush covering your face. A blush that has always been meant for Charles only. Before you could continue, Charles interrupted.
"y/n, can I speak with you for a moment?" He said, his voice strained but polite. You excused yourself, following Charles to a quitter corner.
"What's wrong?" You asked, noticing the tension in his posture. Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours, in an interlock that had you shivering.
"I don't like the way he was looking at you."
"He was just being friendly, Charlie, it's a party." You say looking up at him through your lashes, Charles just wants to pull you closer and crash his lips on you in a heated kiss.
His expression darkened further. "Friendly or not, I don’t want anyone looking at you like that."
The possessiveness in his voice sent a chill down your spine. "Charles, you’re overreacting. We’re just talking."
"I don’t care. You’re mine, Y/N.” He leaned in, his face inches from yours. “And I won’t have anyone thinking otherwise."
You opened your mouth to protest, but the intensity in his eyes silenced you. It wasn’t just about protectiveness. There was a dark edge to his possessiveness, something you hadn’t seen before.
“Okay.” YOu agree meekly, Charles kisses your cheek right next to your lips, and smiles oh so sweetly at you, lacing your hands together.
“Come stay with me.” You look up at him, surprised with your eyes wide.
”What?”
“Come stay with me, I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to get back to Marnello.” He looks at you pleading. “Pretty please.”
”Alright, might give Arthur free time to hang out with his other friends.” You say convincing yourself that it’s a good idea, you look at your best friend and see him talking with a woman by the bar. “Or someone else.” You say with a giggle, Charles sees Arthur and smile. Good, if Arthur finds and lady friend then that would give him more time to spend with you, this sis going better than he expected.
You moved in with Charles, you had the spare room. Charles tired to convince you to stay with him, but you wanted things to go slow. But more often than not, you fell asleep on the sofa while watching something together and Charles would put you in bed with him.
Most nights will end with you sipping on a drink he makes for you, always insisting that he just wants to spoil you, after a while you’d start feeling exhausted, and fall asleep.
The next mornings, you’d usually wake up in his bed, with him laying next to you, the times you woke up after him, you’d see him awake and watching you with a deep in thought look on his face, the moment he notice you’re awake he’d smile and press a kiss to your forehead.
"Good morning.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Morning." You replied groggily, a strange sense of comfort washing over you.
You were browsing through a quaint boutique downtown. Charles had suggested you update your wardrobe, and you were eager to please him. As you moved between the racks of clothing, you found yourself drawn to a beautiful blue sundress. It was light, airy, it’s something you’d usually buy without a second thought.
You held the dress up to yourself, admiring it in the mirror. It was perfect for the warm weather and would look great with the sandals Charles had bought you last week. But as you stood there, a familiar uncertainty crept in. Would Charles like it? Would he think it was appropriate?
You pulled out your phone and took a quick photo of yourself holding the dress. Your fingers hovered over the send button as you debated whether to ask him. The decision felt simple enough, yet you couldn't shake the need for his approval.
Finally, you texted him: "What do you think of this dress? Should I get it?"
You waited anxiously, your heart pounding. Within a few moments, your phone buzzed with his response: "It's pretty, but I think the neckline is a bit too low. How about looking for something else?"
You sighed, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. Charles always knew what was best, you reminded yourself. You put the dress back on the rack and continued browsing, looking for something that fit his description of appropriate.
As you moved through the store, you picked up a simple white blouse and a pair of high-waisted jeans. They were nice, but they didn't make your heart sing like the sundress had. Still, you knew Charles would approve, and that was what mattered most.
Later that evening, you returned home with your purchases. Charles was waiting for you in the living room, his eyes lighting up as you walked in.
"Hey, how did the shopping go?" He asked, standing to greet you.
"It went well." You replied, holding up the blouse and jeans. "I found these. What do you think?"
He inspected the clothes, nodding with approval. "Good choices. They'll look great on you."
His praise filled you with warmth, and you felt a sense of accomplishment.
"Thanks. I'm glad you like them."
He pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead. "I always want you to look your best. You know that, right?"
“I know. Thank you for helping me." You nodded, resting your head against his chest.
As you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you realised just how much you had come to rely on his guidance. Even for something as simple as picking out a dress, his opinion was the deciding factor. It was comforting, in a way, to know that he was always there to help you make the right choices.
Gradually, your independence faded. Charles' influence seeped into every aspect of your life. You stopped wearing the dresses you loved, opting for the ones he chose. You stopped going out with friends, preferring to stay home with him. Your world narrowed to the confines of his desires, and you didn't even realise it was happening.
Before making any decision, you looked to Charles, waiting for his approval. If he nodded, you felt reassured; if he frowned, you felt anxious. Your happiness hinged on his reactions, your self-worth tied to his validation.
Charles marked you in other ways, too. He began leaving hickeys on your neck, a visible sign of his possession. "I want everyone to know you're mine." He would whisper, his voice both tender and possessive.
You accepted it, feeling a strange sense of pride in his attention. The marks he left were a symbol of his love, and you wore them like badges of honour. When people asked, you smiled and brushed it off.
But it wasn't just protection. Charles' control over you deepened, his possessiveness consuming him. You found yourself agreeing to everything he asked, trusting his judgement over your own. He convinced you that he knew what was best for you, and you believed him.
Charles made sure you stayed close. He monitored your phone, controlled your social interactions, and kept you under his watchful eye. You didn't see it as manipulation; you saw it as love. He was protecting you, caring for you, making sure you were safe.
As the months passed, you lost sight of who you were outside of Charles. Your dreams, your desires, your sense of self, all became secondary to his needs and wishes. You became a shadow of your former self, a puppet dancing to his tune.
But you didn't see it. You were blind to the darkness that had enveloped your life, the possessiveness that had taken root in Charles' heart. You were happy, in a way, content in the illusion of love and security he had created.
Charles had what he wanted: you, completely and utterly his. And you, in your innocence and naivety, believed it was exactly where you were meant to be.
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@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house .
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#charles lecrelc#charles leclerc fic#charles xreader#charles x reader#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#cl16 one shot#cl16 imagine#cl16 x reader#cl16 x you#cl16#cl16 x y/n#cl16 fic#cl16 fanfic
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Valentine's NSFW - Overwatch Men
Pairings: Baptiste, Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Ramattra & Reaper x fem! reader (reader uses she/her pronouns + has a pussy)
Genre: smut/NSFW
CW: cheesy Valentines things, aftercare, manhandling, bondage, role play, toys, shibari, praise, degradation, dirty talk, oral (giving & receiving) unprotected sex, p in v, cum stuffing, overstimulation, cervix fucking, teasing
i flopped so hard this Valentine’s Day but here’s some overwatch content 😭 im sorry my fellow lucio enjoyers i simply couldn’t do it i could not write him for valentines
—
Baptiste:
he’s a busy man, it’s a rare occasion that he has a day off, let alone two
wants to make the most of his time with you
takes his time to decorate your room, even changing the sheets to nice red ones and lighting some candles
for him it’s all about the ambience
takes his time to seduce you, starting with kissing you, then moving down your neck and so on
takes his time with your chest, his expert hands turning you into a moaning mess
when you’re finally so wet that you’re begging him just to touch you, he knows you’re ready
has you spread out on the bed, his head buried between your legs
it’s been so long since he was able to eat you out, it’s like a feast to him
doesn’t stop until you’ve came on his face at least twice, until his beard and chin are dripping with your juices
he’s so gentle but so intentional with his touches
teases your clit with his cock and laughs at the way you squirm and plead for him to put it in
once he puts it in, it’s not coming out until he’s fully satisfied
the man is insatiable, he’s drilling his cock into you like he’s trying to push it straight into your womb
it brushes your cervix and makes you wince, the pain only adding to the overwhelming pleasure you feel
loves cumming inside of you but saves it for special occasions like today
his aftercare is unmatched, the man has a basket of things to help soothe you after the fact
he’ll massage your shoulders and talk you down
and always forces you to pee because god forbid you get a UTI (although he’d take extra good care of you then, too)
Cassidy:
wants to try absolutely anything
he’s always a kinky mf but Valentine’s is his excuse to dial it up to 11
buys you cute underwear that you can show off to him
wants to roleplay
once you get in bed with this man you’re not getting out all night
he’ll have your hands cuffed behind your back while he watches you try to ride him
just watching you struggle to take his cock without bracing yourself with his hands is enough to have him cumming
it’s just so cute how pathetic you are, dragging your walls up and down his thick cock and whining how it’s “too much”
gets tired of your whining and has you flipped in doggy, your head pressed into the mattress
this man is breeding you for hours
even after your pussy is aching and dripping with his cum, he’ll try to keep going
switches between praise and degradation so fast he gives you whiplash
“so good f’me…takin’ my cock so well.”
spanks you if you get too quiet
“fuck, you’re sucha slut for me, aren’t ya?”
there will be bruises on your wrists from the handcuffs
when he finally lets you out of the bed, you can’t even walk on your own
so he runs you a hot bath with nice smelling salts, candles and lotions
Genji:
kinky mf
he’s probably been preparing for tonight for months
has some of that aphrodisiac chocolate and definitely feeds it to you
so much foreplay
he has you laying against his chest, legs spread out over his own, your pussy wide open for his fingers to dip into
he loves playing with you and teasing you, listening to you whimper that’s it’s ’too much’ and you ‘can’t take it anymore’
your cute whines must make him want to bury his cock in you and pound you
but tonight is about you and he wants to take his time
definitely brought some toys with him, like a magic wand and a rabbit
has the vibrator pressed against your clit while he fingers you
even after you cum a few times and whine about how you’re getting overstimulated, he still wants to fuck you until your brain is mush
it’s sweet relief when he finally puts the toys away and lays you down on the bed
you weakly spread your legs around his hips and give him access to your puffy pussy
feels so fucking good
he gets so deep inside you every time, and he’s going slow enough that you can feel it every time his cockhead brushes your walls
whispers praises in your ear about how good you are, about how you just need to give him one more and he’ll be done
“one more” turns into an extra hour
by the end of the night, you’re completely fucked out and drooling, your pussy aching from how good he took care of you
helps you clean yourself up, planting kisses on your burning skin
Hanzo:
SHIBARI
he’s been waiting so long for you to want to try it
you run to the bedroom when you get back from dinner
Hanzo is so patient waiting outside until you finally yell come in
you’ve stripped yourself to just your lingerie and you’re kneeling on the floor, holding silky red ropes in your hands
he’s instantly hard just seeing you submit to him
binds you up so nicely in the pretty little ropes, making sure you’re properly tied but keeping all your good places on display
manhandles you in front of him so he can prod at that pretty mouth with his cock
smears pre all of your lips and cheeks before pushing past your mouth and finally feeling your tongue on his length
you look so cute and helpless sitting beneath him and slobbering on his cock
probably straight up carries you by the ropes on your back and tosses you into the bed
you are doing it in every position tonight
bent over, balls slapping your clit with every thrust
on top of him, laying on his chest clawing desperately while he pounds you
against the wall, over the bed, on your knees, on his lap
he’s taking you any way he can
ends it in a mating press, undoing some of the ropes to offer you enough slack to fold your knees into your chest
leans over and coos about how cute you look with tears and cum smeared on your face
you’re stuffed with cum at the end of the night, laid out in the bed, face on his chest
Ramattra:
has no idea what Valentines is, and even after you explain doesn’t quite understand it
but if it’s important to you…
is teasing you the whole fucking day
pinning you against the wall and rubbing your pussy until you’re dripping wet, pulling you into his lap when you walk by so you can feel the thrumming in his crotch plate
he wants you soaked, prepped and ready for him at any time so that when he does decide to take you, he doesn’t have to waste any time
has you cockwarming him while he does work, an arm around your waist to hold you down on his massive length while his other taps away at a keyboard
you’re squirming and writhing in his lap for more but his grip is like iron
eventually he gives in to your incessant pleasing
“it’s St Valentines after all”
but don’t even think about trying to disobey him or try anything funny
pretty much uses you like a flesh light the rest of the night
the benefit of him being so strong is that he can manoeuvre you in anyway that he wants
and given that he’s an omnic, he can go all night and never falter
he’s brutal with his thrusts, pounding into you until your juices are spraying out and coating the plates of his thighs
“Look at how you’re gushing on me,” he teases, “look at how ruined your pussy is.”
probably fucks you until you’re on the verge of falling asleep
after he’s done with you, when you’re laying and looking al cute and fucked out in his bed
he’ll just brush your hair away from your face. “Happy St Valentine’s, dear.”
Reaper:
he does not give a fuck about Valentine’s Day
but if it gives him an excuse to take you in anyway he wants, he’s in
absolutely not what he has in mind when you’re binding him to your headboard with handcuffs
he won’t admit it but he’s into it
you spend over an hour just teasing him
rubbing, licking, drooling on his cock, watching the way he shifts uncomfortably with every move
it’s only after he calls out, “just fuck me or move on, please” that you listen to him
Reyes never says please so you know he’s desperate
of course you won’t even think about putting his cock inside of you until he's came in your mouth at least once
when you finally straddle his hips and sink down on his cock, Reaper is beyond impatient
he’s straining against his handcuffs, telling you what a whore you are and how he can’t wait to get out of these and fuck you silly
you ride him painfully slow, scratching up his chest with your nails as you slide up and down his cock
eventually you get desperate and start bouncing even more, forcing his cock as deep as it can go
just as you’re about to cum, Reaper snaps the bedposts and frees his hands
you’re in shock from the pure fucking strength it took and have no time to react before he’s flipping you on your back and taking you
the muscles in his arms are strained as he props himself up above you, veins protruding
just for teasing him, you’re not leaving the room until you’ve come at least three or four times
or unless you beg for mercy (though Gabe is a wild card, and it’s a 50/50 if he’ll even let you go)
—
masterlist | overwatch masterlist
#overwatch 2#overwatch#ow2#overwatch x reader#overwatch x you#ow#overwatch fic#xreader#overwatch headcanons#x you#cole cassidy x you#cole cassidy smut#genji shimada#Genji Shimada x reader#Genji Shimada smut#ramattra x reader#Ramattra smut#baptiste augustin x reader#Baptiste augustin smut#reaper x reader#reaper smut#Hanzo Shimada#Hanzo Shimada smut
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Yan Socialite Brother x reader x Yan?Hubby
YOUR LITTLE EZZY'S BACK! So I couldn't help but write more about him. I will also write a version with the reader's wife. Enjoy reading ♡ Ezra Headcanon
In the dark hours, the Alvarez estate was shrouded in a thick silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire that danced in the hearth. Shadows stretched across the grand, dimly lit room, adding to the air of peculiar mystery that seemed to cloak the entire estate. Ezra sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the flames that flickered with a restless energy, mirroring the turmoil within him. The news you had shared with him still echoed in his mind, fanning the fire of his emotions, making it burn hotter, fiercer.
"Amir?.." his eyes were fixed on your back as you scrummaged through the bookshelf. You replied back gently. "Yes, Amir. The boy who works on one of the farms."
So a slave huh?
And then you explained everything to Ezra, from how you saw Amir, appreciated his gentle nature, and were now thinking of bringing him here as your groom. Ezra’s rage simmered beneath the surface, though his fake smile and curious eyes never left your face. But your tone didn’t match the word "thinking", it clearly said, "I am bringing him as my groom." He was happy… happy for you. But on the other hand, he wasn’t happy for himself.
This was the day he had dreaded. For his own peace of mind, he sent one of his attendants, Rowan, to inquire about this so-called Amir. The report? Amir was a poor servant with three siblings and parents who also worked on the farm. Amir was the oldest. Hm. Poor, innocent, loyal, and not too bad-looking, though in Ezra's eyes, everyone pales in comparison to Alvarez's. Nobody can ever be good enough for you. He just didn't want his sister to marry a dirt-face. After all, their family has a certain dignity in society. There was something he relished in this situation, Amir’s meekness, bred by his lower status, was something Ezra could use and if his sister were to marry, it should be to someone who knows their place.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
Amir couldn’t shake the memory of the way you approached him that day.
“M-my lady-”
“It’s okay, relax. Just came to greet you and see how the work is going.” His hand continued to glide through the horse’s mane, though his gaze, filled with shyness and respect, lingered on you. You loved that. “What’s your name, boy?”
“A-Amir…ma’am.” You asked him more questions, and with each one, his initial fear of you began to fade. Eventually, he even dared to ask some of his own. He didn’t realize that he had backed away to the fence, cornered by your every step forward.
“I don’t think a…” You gently removed a leaf from his silky hair. “A pretty thing like you belongs on a farm.” His quick breaths brushed your face before he turned away. Did you just compliment him?! How could you not? He was so unique with that snowy hair and those pale green eyes. “U-um, but I have to-w-work to earn-for-”
“What if I say, not anymore?”
On that very day, you boldly asked his parents for his hand in marriage, right there on the farm, while Amir stood paralyzed in disbelief. His parents, naturally, agreed without a moment's pause, and his heart raced as he caught your final glance over your shoulder before you rode off with your men. How could a humble servant like him ever be worthy of becoming your husband? The idea felt impossible, undeserved. But as the reality settled in, he came to see it not as a blessing but as a test---a daunting trial between love, loyalty, hate… and obsession.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
'Time to play some games' Ezra smirked in the mirror as he gave himself a once-over. "Nobody can outshine you Ezra or take your place, nobody."
The grand staircase of the mansion, lavishly adorned for his sister's wedding, became the stage for Ezra's entrance. As he descended, everyone’s eyes were drawn to him. His gaze landed on you seated beside Amir on the sofa, and his smirk widened at the sight of Amir’s expression. Those doe eyes that have seduced his sister were now filled with embarrassment, as they should be.
Amir was at a loss. His brother-in-law, dressed in an outfit nearly identical to his own--albeit more glamorous and in a different color--had just exposed Ezra's facade. All the sweet words and actions before the wedding had been an act. Ezra settled onto the cushion next to you, casually nibbling on some food from the table, savoring the revelation of his little game.
"Ezra, you should have rested," you said, your tone carrying a hint of concern. Amir was taken aback, noticing your relaxed demeanour. It seemed you hadn’t caught onto Ezra’s stunt. It wasn’t your fault, after all. Maybe you are too tired to notice or don't want to scold your brother, whom you cherish deeply, especially in front of guests—many of whom were now eyeing Ezra with a mix of admiration and curiosity. His display was a calculated reminder that he would always eclipse Amir. Ezra had even missed the official ceremony, claiming illness as his excuse and retreating to his room.
"Nonsense!. How could I have missed my own sister's wedding? And did you forget that I managed all these preparations?. I would never miss it."
'Oh, but you missed the vow ceremony, how convenient and now he's here to remind everyone how he managed all of this and such a good brother-in-law he is by being sweet to me and my family.'
"Do I look good, sister?"
"Of course you do. When have you ever looked bad?" You reached out to pat his head affectionately before pulling a small pouch from your pocket. "This is for you Ezra, a token of appreciation for your efforts, as tradition dictates."
Ezra’s eyes sparkled with delight as he accepted the pouch of gold. "It was nothing. Thank you so much. I just did my duty."
He got up soon to cater to guests including Amir's family probably to show off how humble he is.
The only thing keeping Amir sane and easing his worries was you. Your hand held his gently, and he felt comforted by the ring you put on his finger. He placed his other hand on yours, needing the reassurance that you were there for him.
‘As long as you’re here,’ he kept praying silently.
However, as days passed since the marriage, Ezra's facade toward his brother-in-law began to crumble in your absence. Amir couldn’t understand why Ezra, who had been nothing but nice to him, now seemed to act cold and distant.
The taunts, the disgusted glances, and the deliberate ignoring of Amir had become a painful routine. What troubled him the most was Ezra’s ability to put on a friendly front when you were around. He wondered how a person could even do that? Can he be this deceitful too? His parents always taught him to be kind and true to people. That is why he bared himself to you, he opened his heart to you and gave himself completely. By now he had come to terms with it that Ezra won't ever see him as part of the family much less as an equal. But he remained focused on making sure you were happy with him, that he never made you upset with him because that is what Ezra wants but with Amir's modest and docile nature, it was nearly impossible,
"You know, Amir, since my sister is away on a business trip, you might as well stay with your parents for a while." Amir looked up from his untouched breakfast, confusion and concern etched on his face.
"U-um... why?"
"Why?" Ezra's lips curled into a dismissive smirk. "Well, your duty is to her, and since she’s not here, you might as well go. It’s not like you’re doing anything important around here."
"But—"
"I’ll have the carriage prepared." And just like that he got up and left, Rowan tailing behind him. And so, Amir found himself spending days with his family. His spirits lifted somewhat in their comforting presence, but his thoughts were always clouded by how much he longed to be in your arms. However...
"You don’t just get up and leave like this. Did you even realize how badly this reflects on me? My spouse just vanished after a few days of marriage. I expected you to be waiting for me at the door, but instead, you were here." Your words felt like sharp needles piercing his heart, making him clutch the carriage’s cushion tighter. His mind was filled with images of Ezra welcoming you back, whispering deceitful tales of how he had left.
'He was bored.'
'He doesn’t like it here. I think he doesn't even want to make an effort to adjust.'
'He didn’t even bother to greet you. What kind of husband is he, sister?'
"(Y/N), I d-didn’t mean to leave. It’s just--" What could he say to avoid further anger? Should he blame Ezra? The thought of making excuses or casting blame only added to his distress.
"I don’t care. Next time, don’t leave like that. And if you feel the need to, ask me first. Got it? Also, you can just call your family to visit there. That’s your home now, you don’t have to keep coming back here." He nodded, biting his lip. 'As if your brother would ever let my family feel welcome there. I would never subject them to that mansion of thorns, to be insulted. That’s something I won’t tolerate.'
"Forgive me?" he asked softly, leaning closer to you. "Please, I missed you with every breath." A tired sigh and a gentle caress on his face were all he received, but even that was more than enough for him.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
Time seemed to pass slowly for Amir, each day filled with torment and venomous words from Ezra. He hid his tears, letting them out in some corner of the mansion , so that when you returned, he could greet you with a smile. He didn’t know what to do. He didn't want to stress you by complaining about your brother or involving you in this petty game. He felt like he was going mad as he dwelled on his thoughts. The books offered some solace, but he wished his life were more like a fairytale.
“Well, I thought you should take care of the household budget now, but I think it’s too soon for you to handle this. There are a number of reasons for my distrust, which... I would prefer not to share.”
“It’s alright... I just joined the family, so I think it’s inappropriate for me to take on that responsibility. And brother Ezra is handling it well anyway.”
“Thank you for understanding.” You gently played with his hair as his head rested on your lap. “I love how understanding you are.” He melted under your compliment, the magical touch adding to his contentment.
“Anything for you, wife. You know better than me. Whatever decision you make, I’ll always accept it.” He kissed your finger, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of the ring you wore. The ring his family had bought with whatever they could afford, and yet you wore it. You were the only one who hadn’t looked down on him because of his status. You even cared for his family, sending them provisions and gifts.
Actually, there was another person who hadn't looked down on Amir--your mother, Ms. Grace. She was a woman who preferred solitude, keeping herself busy with her hobbies after her husband's death. Whenever Amir felt alone, he made sure to check on her, offering company and conversation.
“You’re a really good boy. My daughter found a gem.” Amir smiled, but his eyes told a different story. They were seated in Grace’s study, having tea. “Something troubles you, and I know what it is. It’s Ezra, isn’t it?” Damn it, is it that obvious?
“N-no, no, he’s nice. I’m just--”
“Oh, save it. He’s my son, I can smell his shenanigans from miles away. And that daughter of mine—utterly stupid!. She’s the reason he’s like this. Either she’s too aloof or just chooses to ignore it.”
“No, no! She has a lot on her plate. I just don’t want to burden her with such petty problems. She brought me here so that she could find peace, not for me to disrupt it.” Grace’s heart swelled with pity and love at his words. “You are my son too, okay? And I’m just trying to help you understand that you’re the only one who can help yourself.”
“W-what does that mean?”
"It means you have to be strong. You’re not some piece of garbage my daughter picked up. She brought you here, gave you a title, and bestowed you with respect--so honor it, and don’t let anyone take it away just because they think you don’t deserve it. My in-laws were a piece of work too. May their souls rest in peace, but I went through some tough times with them. What kept me firm was my husband. Do you get my point?"
Her in-laws--oh, what a tragedy that befell them on that ferry. The whole town was shaken. Perhaps it was their karma.
“Yes.”
"You love her, right?" His head snapped up to meet her eyes. Was that even a question?
"More than anything! Always."
"Then don’t beat yourself up like this. Just do your part and leave the rest to God. Everything will be alright one day." Amir nodded and took a sip of his remaining tea, feeling a bit lighter and more hopeful. She was right. Being depressed and crying wouldn’t get him anywhere. Worse, you might even leave him because of his sulky behavior. His fingers tightened around the saucer.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
"Sir Ezra has called for you," Rowan informed him as he was putting on his shoes. The two of you were getting ready for dinner. "Me?"
"Yes, you, sir. In his room."
"I'll be there." He glanced at you as you were fastening your coat. "Yeah, go ahead, I'll be waiting downstairs." He nodded and left, but not before helping you with your sleeve buttons and giving you a quick peck.
"You called for me?" His smooth voice reverberated in the quiet room, his eyes finding Ezra nestled in his giant bed.
"Oh yes, you two are going out, right? Could you tell (Y/N) to bring back those pastries that I love?" Something felt off.
Amir swallowed the uneasiness and glanced between Ezra and Rowan. "Sure. Anything else?"
"No. That would be all, thank you."
As always, you had chosen a high-end restaurant, and your presence and attention made him forget all his worries. This was what he cherished the most, his time with you. Your care, your love. He felt, no, believed that he was the luckiest man alive. Contrary to Grace's words, you did pick him from the trash and made him your treasure.
When you both entered the mansion hand in hand, your smile immediately faded into a worried frown.
"EZRA!" Amir barely had time to react as he saw you rush up the stairs where Ezra was now slumped against the railing. The bag of pastries had been thrown from your hands and lay at his feet.
"ROWAN! CALL THE DOCTOR! What happened, Ezra?!"
"Di-did you bring the med...?" Ezra's one hand gripped your collar as the other his stomach.
"What medicine?!"
"The one I asked for..." Ezra's weary, hollow gaze turned to Amir, sending a chill through his very core. "Rowan, help me carry him." You shot a sharp glance over your shoulder at Amir as you hurried up the stairs.
'He did it again... God,' Thought Amir as he bent down to collect the crumbles scattered on the carpet. They mirrored his own shattered emotions and the fractured state of his new life.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
"I swear he asked for pastries... you believe me, don't you!? Please!"
"I said, let it go. Just shut up." You settled onto the bed, sighing as you saw him standing in the corner, emotionless.
"Amir, come here. There is something you should know." Your tone was soft, almost apologetic.
He sat beside the bed, his eyes cast on the floor. "Listen, I feel like you both don't get along, but that needs to change, okay? He is my brother, and you are my husband. Both of you are important to me. And I wanted to tell you that soon after having a talk with him, I will ask Mother to find a suitable bride for him. This family needs an heir."
Wait...
"Heir?"
"Yes, an heir. Even though, as you know, I'm not a fan of children in any shape or form, the line needs to continue. That is Ezra's duty, so he is essential to me. This whole tedious business of having children...ugh." You rubbed your forehead in frustration. "Whatever. But we will also treat them like our own, okay?" You loathed the idea of carrying a child yourself, and Amir was just as opposed to the thought of you experiencing any discomfort. The thought of losing you over that made him shiver. The business was more important to you than anything, and you made that very clear before marriage. Your word was law. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.
"C-can't we both... adopt, though?"
"That's for another day and why adopt now when we can have our own? Ezra has to marry someday. It’s completely fair. He needs to grow up now."
Your tone and earlier outburst made him nod frantically, but a new emotion stirred within him , something close to amusement. Oh, how will Ezra react when you make him marry someone. Maybe it’s for the best, 'At least he’ll get off my back, hopefully.'
Yet, he also felt pity for the woman who would be bound to that two-faced bastard. Is your only goal to use your brother as a breeder? That’s even more amusing.
As you lay down, he went to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. If Ezra were to provide you with a child one day, wouldn’t that make him more honorable in your eyes?
'No, after today’s stunt, I’ve had enough of this.'
You want a child, an heir--that’s clear, that's fine. But he won’t let Ezra exploit this situation.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
"I--I mean--" Ezra stammered, his usual confidence wavering as he tried to find the right words.
You held his face in your hands, your grip firm yet gentle, your eyes searching his. "It's not like I am asking for something outrageous here," you said, your tone soft but laced with expectation.
Ezra's eyes darted away for a moment, then back to you. "I get you, but isn’t it too soon? I mean-"
"You're of age," you cut him off, your tone now tinged with a bit of annoyance. "You’ve never rejected anything I’ve asked of you before, and now you are?"
"NO! No, absolutely not, sister!" Ezra's voice was a mix of desperation and determination. "How can you even think that? I will do it. I will." Inside, though, his mind rebelled. It’s not the marriage that Ezra hates, it’s the idea of spending his life with some annoying woman. What if she turns out to be a snake too?! Oh, he won't forgive that, ever. His eyes betrayed a flicker of dread before he quickly masked it with a forced smile.
"Great, then. Mother will surely find the most amazing match for you," you said with finality, turning to leave. "Just make sure to tell her what your type is. Remember, she shouldn’t just be a good wife but a perfect mother for my heir too."
Without another word, you exited the room, leaving Ezra alone with his spiraling thoughts. Did Amir put this idea in your head? Sometimes, Ezra just wanted to kill that son of a-
"Deep breaths, Ezra, deep breaths," he muttered to himself, trying to quell the surge of frustration. Yeah, his sister wouldn’t be happy if her husband was torn to pieces. 'This is your life now', seeing Amir’s face in this mansion every single day, and soon enough, a wife’s too. Ugh! He threw a vase at the wall in a fit of irritation. He won't ever be in peace until you divorce Amir.
He couldn’t afford to dwell on that for now. He had to carry out your order, even if he despised the thought of dealing with an annoying woman and whining babies. You had given him a task, a job, and he couldn’t let you down. He would never let you down.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
Ezra's bride, Jean Aston, had been chosen--an arrangement made with a family friend. While Ezra couldn't have cared less about the choice, he at least appreciated that Jean stood out with her striking red hair and green eyes. His wife needed to be of some caliber, though in his view, only one person could be the true beauty of the marriage, and that person was unquestionably him. However, he also acknowledged the importance of passing on good genes to the heir you desired.
What he hadn’t expected was Jean’s bubbly demeanor. Wasn't she the one who had been too shy to meet him before the wedding?
"Can you be quiet? Can you be a bit more demure?" Ezra snapped, his patience wearing thin as she chattered incessantly, sitting beside him after their vows. "Look at me--am I being so chattery? Bride and groom are supposed to be graceful, woman."
Jean’s expression soured beneath her veil. "Wow, I was just trying to make small talk. I’ve been quiet since our engagement, so I’m going to talk now that we’re married. Also when is the food going to served?I am starving, how can-"
'God, just let this ceremony end already.'
Meanwhile, in the far corner of the room, Amir sighed, silently wishing Jean the best. Poor girl didn’t know what she was in for. His mind wandered back to his own wedding, the memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It was hard not to compare the two experiences and feel a twinge of sympathy for her. At least you are way better than Ezra. A lot...no, perfect in his eyes. Always.
Once they retreated to their room, Ezra lifted Jean's veil with a cold, expressionless face, cutting her off before she could utter a word.
"There are some things you need to engrain in that skull of yours. First, always show respect for my sister. Always. You know that, don’t you? Secondly, try talking less and listening more."
"Got it! Now, where’s my wedding gift?" Jean’s cheerful interruption made Ezra’s jaw tighten, but he quickly masked his irritation with a smooth composure.
"No, you tell me first--who advised you to wear a harvest gold veil with such questionable embroidery? Huh? Such a poor fashion choice. I’ve explicitly told your family that gold is my color, I wear it. I don’t want to see you in it again." His fingers traced the material with a disdainful touch. "This abomination definitely needs fixing ." Though the veil was actually quite pretty, he couldn’t accept the fact that she looked good in it-- perhaps more than he did which is a big no.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
Months later, the mansion, once quiet and dull, now echoed with the cries of a baby boy whom you named, Joseph. Ezra handed you the baby first which you were hesitant to hold but did anyway, after all you asked for this. It only lasted for a few minutes before he dozed off in Jean's arms.
"Jean," you said, gently patting her head. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and curiosity, her eyes brightening with anticipation. You took the papers from Amir and handed them to her. "Here's a gift. A plot, in your name and another in dear Joseph's. You’ve earned it."
Jean’s eyes widened with surprise and gratitude. "Y-you didn’t have to, (Y/N)-"
"Jean," Ezra scolded gently, his tone surprising you. It seemed that your brother had softened a bit since Joseph’s birth.
"Don’t refuse (Y/N)'s gift. Accept it," he added. Jean nodded, her shyness evident, but her gratitude clear as she met your gaze. "Thank you, (Y/N)."
"Good, now rest. The nanny will arrive soon," you instructed, leaving with Amir in tow. Ezra shot a disapproving look at Amir as they exited.
"Don’t be rude to Brother Amir like that," Jean reprimanded.
"It’s none of your concern. Stop being his defender, anyway. Focus on the child, his upbringing must be perfect. And take care of yourself too--I don’t want you fainting while feeding him." With that, Ezra stormed out. Jean sighed, finding him as unpredictable as ever--hot one moment, cold the next.
The tragedy that struck when Joseph was just six months old was unexpected. The poor child fell gravely ill, and even the doctors couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with his stomach. But by some blessing, everyone's prayers were answered when Amir's remedy worked, one his mother used to give when they were sick as children and Joseph was saved. Had it been a moment later, who knows what could have happened. Even though Ezra didn't bother to thank Amir, it didn’t matter. Amir did it for you, for your child.
༺𓆩❀𓆪༻
"You know, I think it's been a while since I married you," you murmured, lost in thought.
Amir looked up from his book and chuckled, "Oh, you realized it now? I think it's been more than a while, my dearest."
"I know, I know." You now stood where he was seated, gently caressing his cheek. "I think it's time you start doing your duty here." You handed him the seal, "You're in charge of the household's budget now." Amir's eyes widened in surprise. "B-but brother Ezra--"
"Shush," you interrupted. "I decide how things are run here. And I’m giving you this responsibility. Don’t disappoint me."
He nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face as he kissed your knuckles. "Never, I won’t ever dream of it."
From within, his heart was bursting with happiness. At last, he had something--something he wanted, something he could use as leverage against Ezra. His plan had worked flawlessly. His hidden knowledge of botany had made it all possible; plants to make poison, plants to make antidote. A soft giggle escaped him and so did some tears, as you left the room, the seal twirling between his fingers.
Deep inside, he couldn’t ignore the guilt gnawing at him as he saw the pain etched on everyone’s faces over Joseph. His own tears stung with remorse, but he believed it was a good plan--a necessary one to win your trust, your love. He hadn’t wanted to be so heartless, to poison his own child, but he felt he had no choice. Being Ezra’s doormat for so long had worn him down. And for once, watching Ezra in distress was so worth it. Amir couldn’t help but relish every moment.
(AN: OmG, Amir really turned dark, the poor innocent boi. Look how Ezra massacred my boy)
#soft yandere#possessive#obsessive#xreader#yandere brother#lovesick#feminized husband#x female y/n#x female reader#yandere x fem reader#platonic yandere#platonic love#x reader#x you#socialite brother#yancore#male yandere#yandere community#yandere oc#yandere drabble#yandere oc x reader#brother#bottom yandere#sub yandere#love#yandere x darling#yandere fic#tw yandere#yandere blog#Ezra Alvarez
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Not Of The Imagination
Summary: Spencer claims he has a girlfriend. Derek does not believe him at all.
Word Count: 1,614
Warnings: fluff, a bit OOC Derek
Derek Morgan is a ladies man. He knows how to talk to women, charm them into a flustered mess and get a number from them with ease. His charm is a weapon, something he knows how to use better than his gun.
Spencer Reid is not a ladies man. He rambles people away and becomes flustered so easily that people think his skin tone is red.
Derek Morgan is a charmer. Spencer Reid is the charmed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday afternoon. Everyone was ready to go home and spend the weekend doing whatever they wanted. Weekend plans were the topic of conversation at the moment with the bullpen attendees.
“So pretty boy, where are you doing this weekend?” Morgan asked. A teasing smile playing on his lips. Derek Morgan wasn’t a bully. He was anything but a bully, however, he was a brother. And brothers are known to tease their little siblings to no end. And Spencer was lucky enough to become Derek’s little brother.
“There’s this Korean Film festival happening throughout the next week. All foods, music and movies will be played in korean. Which is exciting since my girlfriend had wanted to brush up on her language skills and I thought this would be a great surprise for her.” Spencer missed the look of surprise on his friends faces when the word ‘girlfriend’ had left his mouth. Especially Morgan’s face.
“Girlfriend?” Emily questioned softly. She was still a bit new to the team, but this was the first time a girlfriend was mentioned, especially attached to Spencer’s name.
“Wait what! Spencer, you have a girlfriend?” Derek questioned in disbelief. It’s not like he didn’t think that Spencer couldn’t get a girlfriend, but it’s still a complete shock that the shy, can’t talk to college kids his age, stuttering mess actually has a girlfriend.
“Yeah, Her name’s Y/n. We’ve actually been dating for about 3 years now.” The goofy grin that broke out onto Spencer’s face was convincing enough for the women. But apparently not enough for Derek.
“Really?” Spencer could hear the disbelief in Derek’s voice. He knew that the proclaimed ladies man, didn’t believe that he ‘scored’. But Spencer really didn’t care if he believed him or not.
He still had you at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered to him.
“Okay, what’s her last name?” Morgan asked.
“L/n.” Spencer answered without hesitation. He had a feeling that some of the asked questions are going to be the same that his mother asked him when he confessed that he was seeing someone.
Derek nodded, trying to look convinced. “What’s her-”
Before he even had the chance to finish his next question Spencer beat him to it. “She’s working as a barista at the moment because she’s going back to school to be a teacher. We met when we were 20 and started dating at 22. She’s kind and patient. She also really loves me and we are talking about moving in together after she graduates with her masters.”
The small group was stunned at the flood of information. Emily, JJ and Penelope all began gushing about his girlfriend, happy that their resident genius had found someone that is making him happy.
Derek, happy for his brother, still didn’t believe him. The girl sounded perfect for him, too perfect. Almost like he had conjured her up.
“Do you have a picture of her?” Penelope was the first to ask.
“No, sadly. All the pictures we have together are taken on her phone and they don’t transfer well when she sends them to me.” Spencer explained. The women deflated a bit hearing his explanation.
“How convenient.” Morgan muttered. Penelope was the one who heard him. She snapped her head in his direction, fixing him with a glare. Derek only held his hands up in mock surrender.
The group slowly began to disperse when paperwork began to pile up on each of their respective desks. The new shift of conversation began to fizzle out. Everyone now began to focus on the important work ahead of them before they could go home at 6.
Except for Derek Morgan. The new revelation, still fresh in his brain. The Spencer Reid, the boy genius that stutters when given a simple compliment, has a girlfriend.
He has to see it to believe it at that point.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Derek didn’t get his confirmation until 3 months later. When he had almost forgotten that Spencer had claimed he had a girlfriend.
A beautiful h/c had walked into the bullpen with a visitor badge clipped to her turtleneck sweater. She had a drink carrier in on hand and a plastic bag in the other.
She stood near the glass doors, clearly looking for someone. A small frown appeared on her lips as the object of her delivery seemed to not be in the room.
Morgan saw the contemplation on her face whether she was on the right floor or not. She took a step back towards the double glass doors, before Derek got up to give a helping hand.
He calmly approached the pretty woman before calling out to her, “Excuse me miss, is there something you need help with.”
The h/c turned at his voice, Derek could see slight recognition within her eyes. A small smile graced her lips before she spoke, “You must be Derek Morgan.”
The named man furrowed his eyebrows. He had never met this woman before in his life, even if he had Derek would’ve remembered her face.
The woman saw the confusion on his face as well as the slight guard he put up after she said his name. The h/c’s realization kicked in and her panic set in. “Oh no, I’m not dangerous. My boyfriend had told me a lot about you. Even showed me a photo of you. Well not of you but a group picture and pointed you out. And I’ve always been good at remembering faces. So when I saw you I just knew that you were Derek Morgan. Again I’m not dangerous.”
Her lengthy explanation reminded him of the resident genius that was approaching the two of them.
Spencer was very confused when he saw Derek Morgan speaking with his girlfriend of 3 years. He was even more confused when he saw her panicked expression and the slight wave of her hands as she tried to explain something.
Spencer pulled open the glass doors to the bullpen and turned towards the interesting conversation that was happening. He didn’t get much of it, just the last bit where Y/n said ‘I’m not dangerous’.
“What’s going on here?” The brunette male asked. He looked between his favorite people waiting for one of them to answer.
“Oh, hello love. I was just coming over to see if you wanted to have lunch with me. I had a half day at work for class but then my professor canceled class last minute because he wasn’t feeling well.” Y/n had gestured to the food in her arms at the mention of lunch.
She had swung by their favorite Thai place. Having not been there for a few weeks because of Spencer’s busy schedule and Y/n’s guilt for eating it without him. Spencer smiled widely at the offer of food and his lover for his break.
“I’d love to honey. We can eat at my desk if you’d like.” Spencer offered. Grabbing the drinks from her to make the load easier to carry.
Derek watched the exchange between them. Only putting everything together when you call Spencer ‘love’.
“Holy shit she’s real.” He had meant to say it in his head. But the statement slipped out, causing the two of you to look at him with confusion.
“You didn’t think she was real?” Spencer asked.
“Well, no. Just that she sounded really perfect for you so I had a hard time believing it at first. But then I met her and she literally reminded me of you.” Derek tried to explain but it didn’t sound all too convincing.
Spencer and Y/n looked at each other before laughing. Y/n had just met Derek and he thought she was someone that Spencer made up. Their giggles made Derek feel stupid.
And that’s something he doesn’t feel often (not counting the times Spencer made him feel stupid).
Y/n had calmed down first before holding out her free hand for Derek to shake, “Hi, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m going back to school to be a teacher but currently I’m working as a barista. I’ve been told I’m patient and kind. Spencer and I have been dating since we were 22 but we met when we were 20.”
Y/n then spared a glance at Spencer before asking, “Same intro you gave him right?”
Spencer nodded with a smile before kissing the crown of her head, “Yep same one you gave to my mom.”
Derek looked between the young couple content on the evidence presented to him. Derek took Y/n’s hand and shook it giving a greeting of his own, “It’s nice to meet you Y/n. I’m Derek Morgan and I’ve become Spencer’s big brother. So don’t you go breaking his heart.”
The toothy smile was answer enough, but Y/n couldn’t resist her response, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Spencer had excused the two of them to go eat lunch at his desk. Spencer was happy that his lives were starting to blend together.
He’s especially glad that his favorite people were able to meet each other once and for all. Even though one of them thought the other was a figment of his imagination.
#reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x fem reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#xreader#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x you#x fem reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem reader#mx works
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Please Don't Leave Me
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 4281
Warnings: Angst, Pregnant!Reader, Natasha being an ass, injuries, Depression, Wanda being the bestest of friends.
Part 2: Gone
A/n: Had this one in my head for some time and finally decided to write it. As it always seems these fics just seem to run wild and get longer than I mean them to be. I can tell you all right now I'm pretty sure your not going to like the ending very much 😅
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
“Natty.” You try to get your wife's attention as she moves around the room quickly. Natasha is shoving things in a bag. “Nat.” You try again, but she doesn’t stop. Frantically moving around the room grabbing whatever she can. “Natasha!” You finally yell at her. She still doesn’t stop her movements. “Y/n I can’t right now.” She says shoving the last of her things in her bag. “Nat I have something important to tell you.” You try to reason with the woman, but she just zips her bag throwing it over her shoulder and walks past you. “There are things you don’t understand. I have to go.” You grab her arm and she finally looks back at you. “I really need to tell you this.” You try to reason with her. Your eyes pleading with her just to let you talk. But she shakes her head and pulls her arm from your grasp. “There are more important things than you right now.” She makes it to the door letting it creak open. “We will talk when I get home.” She doesn’t face you, only slightly turning her head before she is gone. “Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” You see her hesitate in the door but she shakes her head before slamming the door shut behind her.
Your heart shatters in your chest as your legs buckle beneath you. A muffled thud is heard as your knees hit the ground. Your hand covers your mouth as a sob escapes the depths of your chest. You pull the small stick from your back pocket looking down at the two pink lines. “I’m pregnant.” You whisper to yourself like somehow Nat will hear you and come back, but you know she won’t. To Natasha her job has always been more important than anything. She loves being an Avenger and helping people, but it always comes at a cost to you. You had a sliver of hope that maybe just maybe this could change that. After what she had gone through in the red room she was pretty sure that she couldn’t get you pregnant but here you are. The prospects of having a child had given you hope that maybe she would come back to you. Be the loving wife that you know she can be. The little pink lines now taunting you as tears splash down on the plastic blurring your vision and the once prominent lines.
It seems like hours before you finally pick yourself up off the ground. Finally having cried all the tears away. Pulling yourself off the ground as you wipe your cheeks before making your way to your shared bedroom. It is empty, too empty. The book Nat was reading was still sitting face down open to the page that she had left it on. Moon light shining through the curtains illuminating the dark room. You don’t bother turning on the lights or changing clothes as you crawl into the cold bed. Seeming much larger now than ever before. You curl in on yourself, exhaustion from all the tears you have cried catching up to you. A pain in your chest as you finally drift off into nothingness.
Over the next few days multiple new stations report of the Avengers fighting one another. The chaos and destruction of a German airport. You place a hand over your lower stomach as the news flashes. ‘Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow has broken the Sokovia Accords. Now wanted for treason against the federal government.’ If you thought your heart couldn’t break more you were wrong.
It has been nearly four months since that fateful day. The day your world shattered around you. You had hoped that one day maybe Nat would try and contact you but those hopes had been dashed over a month ago. She had moved on and so should you. You slowly pack your things in the home that you once shared with your wife. You’re not even sure if you should call her that anymore. A single tear running down your cheek at the thought. You still love her deeply but you can’t live like this. You have a baby to think about now, you need to live for them. Placing your hand on your growing stomach as you gently rub your finger up and down feeling their movement and smiling.
A phone ringing breaks you from the tender moment. You grab your phone looking down to see an unknown number calling you. Your heart stops a moment wondering if after all this time it is finally Nat calling you. You're so distracted by the tight feeling in your chest that the phone stops ringing and the call ends. You still stare blankly at the screen before it starts to ring again. Phone lighting up in your hand once again still showing unknown as the caller.
This time you press the answer button. Your movements are slow as you bring it up to your ear. You open your mouth but no words come out, your breaths coming out erratic as you begin to panic. Your ear is soon filled with a soft voice. “Y/n/n?” That voice is distinct but not your wifes. “Y/n are you there?” The voice asks again. “W-Wanda?” Your voice trembles as your mind catches up. Your best friend is on the other side of the line.
This is the first time you have heard from any of the Avengers for a long time. Tony once stopped by but you refuse to let him in. You didn’t listen to any of the words coming out of his mouth as he spoke through the door. If it wasn’t for him you don’t think you would be in this position right now and maybe your hopes for a better future with Nat would have come true. Wanda had sent a few letters letting you know she was ok. You couldn’t obviously send anything back due to now knowing where she was and the nature of the events and why she was also on the run.
“Y/n/n?” Wanda’s voice breaks through your mind once again. “I-I’m sorry Wands. What were you saying?” Her words had been muffled by your mind. She shakes her head like you could possibly see her doing that. “Nothing sweetheart. Are you ok?” She can tell that something isn’t right. “Not really. I, I’m alone.” Wanda’s heart breaks for you. She may be on the run but she hasn’t been alone. “I’m tired, Wands.” You know you shouldn’t be thinking that with a child on the way but it has been hard. Tears start to fall down your cheeks as you sniffle into the phone.
Wanda made a decision right there. “Sweetheart, I'm going to send Vision to come and get you.” She knows it could be dangerous to have you with her but she also knows that you’re not a wanted fugitive so if for some reason that she is caught you will be left alone. But she will do everything in her power to keep you safe. She can’t stand to hear you this hurt and down. “W-what if that gives away where you are?” You question not wanting to bring her into any danger. “I’m safe here. If you want to, you can come here. We have to move every so often. You don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’m not going to leave you alone. You always have me.” You cry tears of happiness for the first time in a long time. “Yes.” Your voice is small but hopeful.
You land with Vision somewhere in what you believe to be Belgium. Vision never mentioned anything to you about your pregnancy which you are thankful for. You see Wanda bound out of the small quaint house on the outskirts of the town. You watch as she stops in her tracks a few feet away from you. Your head dropping, not wanting to see her reaction. Scared that she wouldn’t want you around any more.
“Y/n/n.” Wanda says quietly trying to get you to raise your gaze to hers but you don’t look up. Tears well in your eyes, scared to move, scared to look your best friend in the eye. Hands cup your face gently making you look up into green eyes. A soft smile on her face. “You're pregnant.” It’s not a question but a statement from the woman. You nod your head as she pulls you into her arms hugging you as tightly as she can without hurting you or the baby.
Just then the flood gates break. A sob leaves you as tears cascade down your cheeks into Wanda’s shirt. You bury your head in her neck. A hand rubbing gently up and down your back as you're held for the first time in months. Your legs give out as you clutch to Wanda for dear life afraid that you're going to wake up and she will be gone. Wanda holds on gently guiding you both to the ground as she lets you cry. Your tears soak her shirt as you sob for what feels like forever. Wanda whispers reassurances in your ear as she just holds you. Her gentle motions on your back, not ceasing.
Wanda lets you get out your pent up emotions. Sitting with you until your sobs turn into sniffles. “She left me. I never got to tell her.” You whisper, still gripping onto Wanda. “What sweetheart?” She asks, trying to get you to elaborate. “Natasha. I-I haven’t heard from her. She, she left that day to Germany. I tried to tell her. She, she told me that there were more important things than myself.” Wanda’s eyes swirl red with anger. How could Natasha do this to you? All she wants to do is fly off and break Natasha like she broke you. But Wanda comes back to reality when you grip her tighter, scared she will leave you just like Nat did.
“Please don’t leave me.” If it was even possible Wanda’s heart broke for you more. Like herself you don’t have any family. All of yours were gone long ago, but you had found a family in the Avengers, a wife. But that family is now broken but Wanda is determined to show you that she is still your family. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart. I will always be here for you.” She kisses your head smiling. “And for the baby.” More tears come to your eyes but from happiness.
“So you and Vision?” You give a watery chuckle. Wanda nudges your shoulder and laughs. “Yeah.” She smiles happily when you pull back to look at her. “So like does he come with a vibrator setting?” You ask half joking half serious. “Oh my god Y/n!” Wanda exclaims, shocked by your bold question. You two laugh as she helps you off the ground leading you into the house.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to mention something to Nat?” Wanda asks you softly, causing you to look up from the book your head is buried in. You let out a sigh as this constant conversation. “If she wanted to know how I was doing she could have called me the same way you did.” You rub your swollen stomach. So close to meeting your precious little one. “Wands I know you are looking out for me and I also know how pissed you are at her. I also know that you partly want to tell her to rub it in her face on how royally she screwed up. She has had almost 9 months to find me. And I know that you said she has mentioned that she has done it for my own safety but at least hearing from her once would have been something. Instead she went no contact. The famous Black Widow knows how to send encrypted messages if she really wanted to.”
Wanda knows how much you are right and every time she has to touch base with the team she has been distant and cold with Nat. She so badly wants to break her heart the way she has to you. She knows how much you still love Nat and would love to be a family. These times are hard though with everyone on the run so she bites her tongue and nods her head to your words.
To get your mind off of things you put your book down and swing your feet off the bed. “Hey Wands, it's a nice night, maybe we can all take a walk.” Vision appears in the doorway. “That sounds like a lovely idea Y/n.” You smile at the synthezoid before giving a questioning look to Wanda. “Sure.” She nods her head. “But someone is going to have to help me with my shoes.” You chuckle trying to reach down to your feet which you can’t reach. The other two laugh before all of you put on some clothes and help you with yours.
Wanda and Vision are holding hands as you walk through the streets of Edinburgh, the quiet street clearing your mind as you three walk peacefully. Vision stops Wanda to talk a bit as you waddle over to a window with a news cast playing. You watch on as a breaking news cast flashes on the screen. As the scene plays out in front of you you gasp. “Wanda.” You call for her. The conversation dies between the two as they come up behind you seeing as the screen plays footage of New York being attacked. You all stand there silently as death and destruction is shown on the screen. Tony Stark missing flashes on the screen and Vision looks to Wanda.
“I have to go.” Vision says kissing Wanda’s hand that is still laced with his. He starts to walk away dropping her hand, Wanda pleads with him to stay. You start to drown them out as you watch the screen. Terrified that you may see something about Natasha come across it. Screams of pain makes you turn around seeing Vision impaled on a staff. “Vision!” Wanda screams, her hands glowing red ready to fight.
Someone else blasts Wanda from behind sending her flying into a building across the street. With you close proximity you're thrown back hard. Trying to brace yourself you hear a sickening crack as your wrist impacts with the ground. You scream out in pain. “Y/n!” Vision yells when he hears your cry of pain. You turn on the ground seeing him do the same. The two who attacked turned him over on his back and the thing that stabbed him placed the sharp end of the staff on his head.
Vision’s screams can be heard through the quiet streets. You struggle trying to get yourself up knowing your wrist is broken, cradling it close to your chest. You watch as red balls of energy slam into the two creatures throwing them back. Wanda runs towards Vision using her magic and pulling you safely over to him. Pain is written all over her face as she looks over the both of you. She uses her magic to lift all of you off the ground pulling you closer to her as she tries to fly you all away from the area. You all are almost hit by a beam causing Wanda to have to bring you all down. Wanda lands you both down gently laying you on the ground before turning to catch Vision with her magic.
“The blade, it stopped me from phasing.” Vision says as you see a bright yellow line in his body and he seems to be glitching. “Is that even possible?” Wanda asks, helping him sit up against the wall. “It’s not supposed to be.” He says, you can tell he is in pain. Your adrenaline is pumping so your wrist is just a dull ache at the moment. Wanda hovers her hand over Vision, her magic flowing and pulling the opening closed slowly but not completely. “I’m beginning to think we should have stayed inside.” You mumble feeling guilty that this could have been avoided if not for you avoiding your feelings about Nat.
You and Wanda are pushed back by Vision as one of the creatures grabs Vision flying off and fighting against a building. The other comes and attacks you and Wanda. Wanda puts a barrier of magic around you. She starts to fight the female creature as your heart races in your chest.
You lose sight of the both of them fighting. Wanda’s magic dissipates from around you allowing you to move forward looking for your friends. You can hear it now so clearly in your head like she actually is yelling at you. Natasha’s voice tells you to run and protect yourself, but Wanda is your best friend and she has been there for you. So you push that voice away following the commotion. You run into the train station seeing Vision propped against a railing. Wanda stands red surrounding her hands as the two creatures look ready to fight once again.
Squealing of wheels from the train moving past has you all looking. A dark figure in the shadows looms behind the moving train. The female creature throws her trident-like spear at the figure when the train passes. The figure catching it perfectly as he walks into the light you see Steve Rogers. You try to get up behind the female creature but she quickly turns wrapping her hand around your throat.
“Y/n!” Wanda screams. The female creature throws you back and you land on your back crying out in pain. You feel a gush of liquid between your legs after you hit the ground. Wings fly in front of you as Sam Wilson collides with the creature. You let your hand drift down feeling the wetness and bring your fingers back up into view, relieved that it isn’t blood, but your heart drops when you realize what is happening. You gasp in pain from the sharp feeling in your stomach.
Wanda uses her magic again to pull you towards her and Vision. Wanda pulls you into her lap. That is when you spot her in the distance. The hair color may be different but she is still herself. Natasha fights with Steve against the creatures. You have tears in your eyes as you look up at Wanda. “Wands, I think my water just broke.” You groan in pain again. You can see the panic in her eyes as she looks around the area. It’s not long before the fighting is done and the other three walk over towards you three.
Natasha stops dead in her tracks when she sees you. Your swollen stomach has her chest rising and falling a bit fast. She thinks maybe it could be someone else's but she knows deep down that the baby is hers. She wants to cry but she turns stone cold hiding her emotions. Hating herself for leaving you, for never reaching out in all this time. You cry out in pain causing her to look back to you. You're curled in on yourself in Wanda’s lap. “It hurts.” You whimper. Wanda holds you closer to her. “I know sweetheart.” Wanda looks to the other three. “We need to get them out of here.” She can see the two men side eyeing her before Steve speaks up. “Quickly, get them to the Quinjet.”
Natasha moves to help you but you pull away. “I have her, can you help Vision?” Wanda says flatly, Nat can only nod moving away and helping Vision up. Wanda effortlessly lifts you in her arms and you all make your way to the Quinjet. Your contractions are getting strong and closer together. Natasha can only watch from afar as you whimper in pain. Wanda helps you and Vision sits close holding his side.
“We need to get her to a hospital.” Wanda says brushing the hair sticking to your forehead out of the way. “We will be at the compound in 30 minutes.” Steve explains. “Steve, I don't know if she can last that long.” She iterates looking back down at your pained face. “It’s the best I can do Wanda.” She sighs gently stroking your cheek. “It’s ok Wands. I’ll be o-” Your cut off by another contraction. All Nat can do is look on with regret.
Once the quinjet finally lands Wanda lifts you in her arms again and runs into the compound they enter and see Rhodey talking to a hologram of Secretary Ross. “We need medical.” Natasha says out, causing Rhodey to turn and for Secretary Ross to start arguing. You can’t concentrate on what they are saying but you know it isn’t great. Rhodey ends the call and signals for medical, who come in with Bruce.
As they wheel you away the team follows. Before Wanda can head in after you Nat grabs her arm. Wanda whips her head around anger evident on her face. “Please just tell me. Is it mine?” Wanda gives an amused chuckle. “Of course it’s yours.” She pulls her arm from Nat’s grasp and follows you in the room. Nat lets tears slip down her face. She left you alone pregnant with her child. Not once contacting you in the last nine months. She had told herself she was doing it to protect you and to keep you out of this life, but she was wrong and she sees that now. She understands now why Wanda became so cold towards her after a few months. She has to fix this. She has to be able to win you back and to become the family she always wanted and she will do anything to get that back.
Natasha can hear your cries of pain as you go through labor wishing more than anything she could be there with you but you don’t want her to be. But you chose Wanda and she understands why. She soon hears other cries. The crying of her child as they are born. Tears slip down her cheeks as she hears them. The boys know not to go around her or to talk to her at this moment. She is breaking on the inside and all she has to blame is herself.
An hour later Wanda walks out and comes over to Nat. Her head is down, not looking at the younger woman waiting for a scolding, but that doesn’t come. “You can go meet your son.” Wanda speaks with no emotion to her voice. Natasha looks up and Wanda can see she has been crying but that doesn’t change how angry Wanda is at her. “I have a son?” Nat whispers. Wanda just nods her head and moves out of the way.
Natasha slips into the room quietly. Her heart stops seeing you laying in the bed with a blue bundle in your arms and a smile on your face. More tears spill as she quietly makes her way over to you. You don’t look at her until she is standing right next to you. “He’s beautiful.” Nat mumbles trying to stop the sob that so desperately wants to escape. You have a soft look on your face and she can’t read it. “Meet Alexander Pietro Romanoff.” You smile down at your son. Natasha lets the tears freely fall. “Romanoff?” She questions you. “Romanoff.” You repeat looking back up at her with a soft smile. She feels a flicker of hope that she can fix this, that she can have her family.
“Do you want to hold him?” You ask her softly and lightly lift him the best you can with your broken wrist. Nat nods and takes him from you holding him in her arms. She has so much love for him already that more tears well in her eyes. You watch her as she holds the baby and cries.
“I’m sorry.” Nat whispers. “I'm so sorry.” She looks at you with teary eyes. “I know.” Is all you can respond with. She looks back down at the now sleeping boy. Just looking at him and remembering all of his features. She had seen the flicker of green in his eyes, the same as hers. But he looks so much like you. He is just as beautiful as you are.
Loud beeping makes Nat’s head snap up. Your face is now pale and your eyes are closed. The sheets are staining red between your legs. Doctors rush in as she backs away holding her son close to her chest. He starts to cry with all the noise and commotion. Her heart rate picks up and she starts to panic. The voices of the doctors are muffled to her ears as she feels the blood rushing around. She can only focus on you, your face pale and your body limp in the bed as doctors work around you. They soon wheel you out of the room mentioning something about you hemorrhaging and needing to go to surgery.
Nat starts sobbing in the empty room. All that is left is herself and her son. She slides down the wall begging to whatever is out there in the universe that you will be ok. That you will come back to her and your son. Promising that she will do better and be better. She will be the wife that she had promised in her vows. She will do anything for you to take her back, just please let you live. She whispers in the emptiness. “Please don’t leave me.”
#new fic#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha x reader#natasha x you#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff xreader#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff angst#kind of mean natasha#black widow x reader#natasha romanoff x reader angst
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volo simps come get y’all food (on Ao3)
“All I mean to say,” he hums, lids flicking closed in his mirth, “is that you seem to have a type. Tall, broad, and capable of handing you a rare defeat in battle.”
“You didn’t hand me anything,” you huff, crossing your arms and glaring at the marble column he leaned against while you patched him up. “In fact, you may have noticed I was working to evolve that–”
The implication blindsides you, the blush dancing down to flare across your breastbone.
“Fuck you!” you shout, and Volo flinches from the volume so near his ear, then from the slap landing on his exposed bicep. Then the mental image catches up with you, of bathing in both shadows as they tower over you, all cherry curls and curves, silky spills of gold, and slender hands.
You fold, burying your face in your hands before it has a chance to counteract the blanket of cold atop the mountain. “After everything I’ve done for you…”
“Do you mean to tell me I’m wrong?”
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Can you do (Platonic) Homelander X reader. Like in S4E4, you were the only scientist that actually treated homelander as a actual human child and not a experiment, but then were fire for interfering with an experiment. And years later when he grows up and invite everyone back to the lab including the reader
Consequence || The Boys Imagine
(Platonic) Homelander x Scientist!GN!Reader
Summary: You are one of the scientists who worked on Homelander many years ago. One day he brings you back to the lab, for old times' sake, he says.
Warning: Canon typical violence and gore (not explicit)
Author's Note: Im so sorry but i dont fully understand your request! I hope this is close enough to what you're asking for :]
Masterlist
You recall the elevator ride from many years ago. It didn't use to be this long. Or maybe that's because you just witnessed Homelander shooting lasers at the security guards upstairs, all that to let you and him into the old lab. He probably can hear your heart beating abnormally fast.
"Do you think everyone will be there?" He asks.
You take a long breath, "Maybe not. Some of them probably don't work for the company anymore."
There is a moment of silence before he asks again, "Do you miss them?"
You think about it for a minute. His question feels like a test somehow. But, you've always been honest with him, and you're not going to stop now. "Not really, since they fired me."
"Right."
Homelander is a ticking time bomb. Since the beginning, you knew he was going to grow up with so much negativity from all that experimentation, and eventually explode. The least you could do was be kind to him, considering he was a literal child. Even now, you still feel a little bit of sympathy for him. But, it probably doesn't matter since he might have just brought you there to end your life along with the other scientists'. After all, there's no denying that you did work in that lab.
You sigh quietly. You didn't even get to say goodbye to your family when he picked you up at your current workplace.
The elevator dings, and the door opens, revealing the very same lab that you remember working in. The old faces try so hard to look delighted, but you can tell that they're as horrified as you.
"John?" Marty exclaimed in surprise.
"Homelander." The supe corrects him with an unending smile. "Just, Homelander." He then glances at you, putting an arm on your shoulder. "But [Y/N] is here too, y'know? You should greet them too."
You and Marty exchange a look. It's been years since the last time you talked to him. Though he's glad to see you after all these years, it is far outweighed by the horror of Homelander's presence.
Marty gives you a nod, "[Y/N]."
You return the nod, "Good to see you again, Marty."
"Well, well, well," Homelander steps forward with the box of cake while looking around, "I see that this place hasn't changed much."
He starts to talk and talk about his days in the lab. To the others, it might be an enlightening experience as he exposes their faults and... avenge it. Even if they didn't believe in god, they start praying inside their heads. Frank is the first to go, then Marty second. Thankfully, Barbara shows up before a third victim comes. But, oh, how wrong you are.
You stand there, breathing heavily, as Homelander closes the door to the Red Room. There's blood everywhere on his suit and hair, then as he turns around, his face is also covered in blood. But, the most terrifying part? His smile.
You hide your trembling hands behind your back. As much as you dislike how the other scientists treated him, you'd never think they'd end up like this.
"You alright?" You attempt to be nice to him, even if it's the last thing you do.
He laughs and approaches you slowly, "There should be more people like you in this world."
"You're one of a kind." He continues. "Most people are inconsistent. They're very prone to change, depending on where they are in the wheel of life- up or down- but, you? You're the same all around, then and now. That's great!"
He pats you on the back, leaving red stains on it, and guides you out. Apparently, he respects you enough to let you live, and not lock you in that room of corpses with Barbara.
As you arrive home safe and intact (physically, at least), you sigh in relief, feeling indebted to your alma mater for forcing you to take a class in ethics.
#homelander#the boys homelander#homelander x reader#homelander x you#homelander x y/n#homelander imagine#the boys x reader#the boys x you#the boys x y/n#gender neutral reader#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral insert#the boys imagine#the boys fanfic#the boys fic#platonic x reader#platonic imagine#platonic the boys imagine#the boys#gn reader#xreader
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❁ ❝ 𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀? ❞
━ third years and gn! reader (separate ; can be seen as platonic or romantic) ━ how unfortunate, you had to leave your dorm to buy some snacks in sam's shop, only to realise that the moment you stepped out of the mystery shop, a heavy rain started to drench you and your groceries. (f/n stands for first name)
do not steal or translate without my permission.
"thank you! all the best for your future!"
as you waved at sam, his goodbye greeting made you smile and bow politely at him before leaving his store. it was going to be a great day, or so you thought. you held the grocery bags in both hands as you started walking away with the intention to head back to your dorm, but the sudden roar of thunder followed by heavy rain hammering down sage's island said otherwise.
"damn it. just what i need."
you mumbled sarcastically to yourself, sighing heavily as you walked to a nearby bench under a tree. it was a little soaked with how heavy the rain was, but compared to the open streets, it was better. you looked back at sam's shop and wondered if you could purchase an umbrella, but you had no madols left - the ones you used to purchase the groceries do not have any change, so you were left with 0 madols in your pocket.
silently admitting your defeat, you sat on the bench. your clothes were already drenched, so why does it matter if you sat on a wet bench? at least sitting under this tree won't let the rain hit your face directly.
and so, there you were, sitting on the bench with your eyes up at the leaves of the tree, thinking about your next step. should you just run back to the dorm and say "fuck it"? or should you wait on this slightly drenched bench for the weather to be better?
you were about to do what you think is the best decision - even though, it's not, until a shadow cast over you. your view of the tree leaves was changed with a piece of fabric and what seemed like the interior of an umbrella.
❝ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 ❞
"ooh, prefect? what are you doing in here all alone?"
that was the first thing you heard from your so-called saviour of the day. a semi-bright smile was seen on the heartslabyul third-year's lips as he stood beside you on the bench, covering your slightly drenched self from the rain.
"oh, cater, uh... i just finished my grocery shopping and i did not know it was going to rain today, so with my shitty luck, i got out of the shop and the rain started pouring... i did not have any madols left to buy an umbrella, so i sat here and... started thinking if i should just run back to my dorm or wait until the weather is clear."
cater let out a soft "ooohhh..." as you explained your little situation, then he urged you to stand up as he grabbed a few of your grocery bags, "i'll help you, then! we can share my umbrella."
you hummed softly and thanked him in response, standing up as you grabbed the remaining grocery bags that he did not carry. "what are you doing out here, though?" you asked, walking down the main street with cater by your side.
"oh, me? i just got back from the bakery at the foot of the hill and i knew it was gonna rain today, so i came prepared!"
lucky him for reading the weather forecast before going out, then.
after he said those words, cater let out a soft laugh as he nudged you a little bit and spoke with a teasing tone, "you should read the weather forecast every now and then, n/n~"
you snickered at his words and nudged him back by the elbow, "it was so sunny when i went out, literally there was no indication that it would rain! the world is out to get me, cay-kun, the world is out to get me."
as you both walked down the drenched streets of the campus, the sound of the heavy rain drowned both of your conversations and laughter. soon, you arrived at the front porch of your dorm, turning around to smile at cater as you gave him a little polite bow.
"thank you for coming to my rescue~ haha, just kidding, but thank you for accompanying me."
❝ 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ❞
“you’ll get sick if you stay drenched out here.”
a kind voice seeped through your ears as you looked up and saw trey looking down at you with a hint of concern in his eyes. he held his umbrella towards you, sheltering you from the heavy rain while searching through his pockets for a handkerchief, hoping it might at least dry you up a little.
“i did not know it was going to rain today,” you replied sheepishly, “but at least i got my groceries.”
“which are also drenched.”
“…yeah…”
a soft sigh followed by a laugh left his lips before grabbing your grocery bags and urging you to follow him. “come, i’ll bring you back to your dorm and prepare some soup,” said trey as he started walking with you in tow, making sure you’re still shielded by the umbrella.
“you’re a life saver, trey,” you spoke with a soft laugh, “if only i had read the forecast, then i would have been prepared for this.”
“is that a new lesson learned, n/n?” questioned trey rather teasingly. “oh totally,” you replied, “maybe i should pack an umbrella for emergencies… but then again, it would mean we wouldn’t meet in the rain like this.”
“oh, no. that is dangerous. you might get sick,” spoke trey, clearly not getting the hint that you were trying to say you wanted to see more of him.
‘ah… how dense…’
❝ 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 ❞
“are you trying to get sick?”
hearing leona’s voice made you look up as you replied, “of course not.”
“then don’t sit in the rain,” said leona as he continued sheltering you with the umbrella, “come, i’ll bring you to your dorm.”
without another word, you stood up with your grocery bags in hand and walked alongside the savanaclaw dorm leader. no words were exchanged for the time being, but he paused in his tracks the moment he caught you shivering a little and lent you his jacket.
“read the forecast next time,” scolded leona with a soft click of his tongue.
in response, you huffed, but held onto his jacket for warmth, “hmph, it was sunny out, so i did not think it would rain… but i think it was worth getting drenched in the rain.”
with a raised brow, leona asked, “huh?”
“’cause you became my savior!” you replied with a rather cheeky and teasing smile, wanting to joke around with him, but his deadpanned expression was ten times better in response. his deadpanned expression turned into a soft smirk as he said, “ah, you did that on purpose, then. you are as sly as ruggie despite being an herbivore.”
it was your turn to have a deadpanned expression.
“i’ve told you plenty of times that i am not an herbivore.”
“whatever you say.”
❝ 𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭 ❞
“my my, did you not know you’ll catch a cold just bysitting in the rain like that? tsk tsk,” spoke vil as he sighed and pulled you up, “what are you even doing out here?”
“oh, vil! i went out for groceries, and…” you trailed off.
“…you did not know it was going to rain today?” questioned vil.
“...yeah.”
“hm. figured.”
you blinked in response, watching as vil turned around and urged you to follow him while you carried your groceries – which were drenched, by the way. “you could have stayed in sam’s shop until the rain passed,” suggested vil, “rather than moping on the bench like a wet cat.”
“i did not think of that… i was thinking of buying an umbrella, but i no longer have any madols left,” you replied.
vil hummed in response as he pulled you closer to make sure you were walking under his umbrella. he can’t have you sick now, can he?
“next time, bring an umbrella for emergencies. yes, we are in sage’s island and the weather seems to be under control, but you have to be prepared. you’re lucky i even caught you out here,” scolded vil.
“okay, mom,” you muttered.
“what was that?” asked vil with a raised brow, as if daring you to repeat what you just said.
you quickly shook your head in response, “nothing! um… what are you doing out here anyway?”
“i just got back from the botanical garden,” replied vil, “i was looking for a specific plant for a project of mine.”
“oh, i see…” you replied before looking up and realising you were standing right in front of ramshackle’s gate, “ah, we’re here! thank you, vil!”
just as you were about to run off, vil caught your wrist and spoke, “what are you doing? running in the rain all the way to the front door? no. i will accompany you. you’ll surely get a cold and grim isn’t exactly capable of taking care of you now, is he?”
❝ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 ❞
“oh la la~ seems i caught a sweet rabbit all alone.”
“rook, stop calling me that,” you quickly replied as you looked behind, “it’s creepy.”
with a soft laugh, rook proceeded to sit beside you, still holding onto the umbrella that now protected you both from the rain. “what might bring you here in this stormy afternoon?”
“groceries… and bad timing, i suppose,” you replied.
a dramatic sigh left his lips as he spoke, “mon dieu! how unfortunate. i shall take you home then, chérie.” as he stood up, he held his hand out towards you and smiled, “well, let’s get going, then.”
your walk back to ramshackle was a little quiet – well, you were. rook was busy talking and sharing a few things about his morning with vil and epel when you suddenly asked, “what were you doing out here, by the way?”
“ah, me? why, i was merely sightseeing!”
‘riiight… sightseeing…’ you thought to yourself.
“sightseeing… what… exactly?” you questioned, though at the same time, you wished you didn’t.
“wildlife, of course! just a lion in his natural habitat.”
‘called it,’ you thought.
“a-anyway, thank you for accompanying me, rook.”
❝ 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 ❞
“ortho?”
‘right… why would idia be out here anyway?’
“hello!” chirped ortho as he smiled at you while holding an umbrella. he was protected by his gear, so he clearly did not need the item as he handed it to you. “what are you doing out here, nee-/nii-san?”
“i was buying groceries,” you replied.
ortho hummed a little ‘oooo…’ in response before replying, “you should bring an umbrella with you next time!”
“ortho! wait for me!”
the sound of another voice caught you off guard as you looked away and saw idia heading towards you and ortho. “i should not have gone out,” muttered idia as he quickly hid behind the bench after reaching you.
“huh? idia?” out of pure confusion, you looked at him wide-eyed like a fish, “this is a first.”
a soft grumble was heard from the ignihyde dorm leader as he replied, “don’t start, n/n. i needed some snacks, but ortho insisted i leave my room and accompany him in this quest.”
“it’s not healthy to have junk foods as your entire diet,” you spoke.
“not this again,” mumbled idia.
you laughed a little and patted his shoulder, seeing as he was crouching behind the bench, “i’m just looking out for you. well, let’s go?” as you stood up, so did idia as ortho trailed behind you both.
the walk did not take long until you reached the front door. once you entered, you turned around and spoke, promptly inviting them into your home, “come, let’s play some games and enjoy the rainy weekend.”
❝ 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 ❞
“child of man?”
a familiar voice made you turn around as you smiled and sighed softly in relief, and it took a few moments to realise the rain had abruptly stopped. “…huh? wasn’t it raining…?” you muttered, but as you looked at the man before you, he sported a frown.
“i did not realise you’d be out here. worry not, the rain has temporarily ceased. please, let me dry you off,” spoke malleus as he lifted his hand to cast a drying spell on you, but you knew just how powerful the gust of wind would be as you instinctively held onto the bench whilst he dries you off with his magic.
it did do the job, though, so you had no complaints.
“let me escort you back to your dormitory,” said he as you were about to grab your grocery bags, “and let me carry those.”
“wha- no, no, it’s alright. you don’t have to – “
“nonsense. this is the perfect chance to walk together, no?”
without another word, the grocery bags started floating beside you as he held a small smile on his face, gesturing you to follow him, and so you did. as you walked together and talked together, you couldn’t help but feel safe now that he was around.
“– and the order of their placement shows the most recent to the oldest carved gargoyles, which can also indicate just how long this academy has been around,” spoke malleus as he had been educating you on the gargoyles of night raven college, and you, of course, listened attentively.
all that talking made it seem like time was going too fast as you had already arrived at the front porch, causing you to sigh. “we’re already here? i wanted to hang out with you more,” you replied before realizing you had said those words out loud, which caused malleus to blink in surprise before smiling.
“we can always continue walking around. this building may seem old and decrepit, but it doesn’t mean it has no story to tell. don’t you think so, child of man?”
❝ 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞 ❞
“oh dear, by the seven, what is a poor little prefect doing out here?”
you huffed the moment you heard that before turning around to meet with lilia’s red eyes staring back at you with a teasing grin, but you knew he was worried about you as he quickly dried you off with a spell and held the umbrella over your head.
“you’ll get sick if you continue to soak yourself in the rain,” scolded lilia as if his teasing demeanor quickly turned into a parental one, “come, let’s bring you back to your humble abode.”
with a blink of an eye, lilia carried all your groceries in one swift motion, letting them float alongside you two as he hummed a happy tune while walking down the drenched main street. the umbrella continued to cover you from the rain as you stayed silent.
the short silence was cut by lilia as he gasped, “oh! i had completely forgotten. dear me, my memory must not be as sharp as it used to be.” confused, you blinked and looked at him, waiting for him to at least explain what he was talking about, but he had not said a word and instead, held your hand.
as you were about to ask what he was doing, you suddenly found yourself back in ramshackle’s foyer. did he just use his teleportation magic?
“…woah… that was so cool!”
you exclaimed, finding yourself amazed at the magical experience as you looked at lilia with a huge smile, “and you get to do that all the time? that’s so convenient! you are so cool, lilia.”
lilia laughed a little as he ruffled your hair, “look at you, gleaming like a kid looking at a candy. i suppose it is very cool, but cute is the best adjective to describe me, don’t you think so?”
“…um… yeah, sure.”
“is that hesitation i hear?”
you quickly shook your head, “no, not at all!”
in response, lilia smiled and patted your head, “then i am glad. i should reward you with a nutritious dinner made by yours truly.”
© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.
#if this looks rushed that's because it is#but it's been a while since i wrote so I might be rusty#have a couple left in my drafts~#twst#Disney twst#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#leona kingscholar#cater diamond#trey clover#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#idia shroud#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#xreader#reader insert#twst x reader#twst x you#twst x yuu#twst headcanons#twst fic#twst fanfic#twst scenarios
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Forced | Charles Leclerc vr.
WC: 16.2K (It started as a 5K word and then I said okay 10K and things went from there)
Charles x reader
Summery: Being threatened and forced into a marriage wasn’t on your mind when you got invited to dinner by your parents.
Warnings: Cursing, forced marriage, bad parents, alcoholic parent, bad childhood, brief suicidal thoughts, half edited. tell me if I missed anything.
A.N: If you’ve read this before, no you haven’t I tried to save it to my drafts while I was at my part time job, and it showed network familiar fast-forward 2 hours and I don’t find it in my drafts, but I see it posted, It wasn’t all uploaded yet.
A/N2: If there has been a one shot I was nervous about positing, it’s this one. So many ups and downs, at one moment I thought about scrapping it but this idea has been in my mind for so long. I feel like I could’ve added so much and I have to remind myself this is a one shot and not a multiple parts series. CARLOS ver. IS COMING, not this week but I’ll start it once I have an outline.(send me ideas if you have any)
Masterlist
Charles Masterlist
Carlos Ver., Max Ver.
In the heart of Monaco, where all the rich, glitz and glamorous people live, the sun dips below the horizon casting a golden hue over the famous skyline of Monaco. The city is intertwined with the rich sport of Formula One. Many of the world's richest people live there, and so does your family. The famous Italian Morelli family, the rich of the rich. Generational wealth, very old money.
The family has been close with the Ferrari family for decades, and so Morelli has invested in the company very early on and has been receiving the benefits for years now. All of the children of the Morelli are born loving everything about cars and racing cars. However the new generation, not so much, they're straying from the driving and going into different ventures, trying different things. Yourself included, maybe when you were young but as you got older you never found yourself interested in cars or any of Ferraris teams in any motorsport, the last time you were at a race was when you were 10 and your parents had to force you to go, after that your older brothers stopped going so you said why can't I stay like them and that was that.
You defied your parents when you went to your choice of university, if it wasn't for you grandfather they would've cut you off, and so you went to art school and graduated with honours, but your parents still weren't there. Your grandfather passed away a few months later making your dad the head of the family.
Since then you've stayed in Italy after going and finishing university there, just the thought about going back to Monaco was out of the question, you have only stayed there during breaks from boarding school in Switzerland, both never feeling like home to you.
However here you are on a plane to Monaco for a mandatory family gathering, apparently something big is happening. the Youngest daughter to the family, the polite and elegant girl of the family, the least disappointment to your parents.
Your father had a driver waiting for you at the airport, not bothering to come himself even though it's been a couple of years since you saw him. Nothing has changed.
Getting ‘home’ yet again no one greeted you at the door but the maid who took your bag to your bedroom, you sighed and walked into the house looking for any sign of your family. You didn’t have to look for long, you found your mother on the balcony nursing a glass of some alcoholic drink, it was just a little after noon, a sight that you’re used to since you were young, your mum always being borderline alcoholic. Your guess is that she turned to the drinks to cope with living with your father, whom she chose to stay with for the glitz and the glamour of being a Morelli.
”Mother.” You greeted her, her head snapped to look at you, some of the liquid spilling as she placed her drink down and stood up, coming up to you with very wide arms pulling you in for a hug, your arms lay limp by your side for a moment before you returned the hug with one arm.
”Oh my baby, I didn’t know when you’d be in.” She said and pulled back to look at you.
”I sent you the details.” You mutter and she waves her hand waving you off.
”Come, come sit down, want a drink?” she asked, walking over to the drinks set on the side, you grimace and shake your head.
”No thanks, it’s a bit early for me.” You sit down across from her and look at the view, the view from the penthouse overlooking the pier, as much as you don't like Monaco the views there are breathtaking. “Where’s father?”
”He’s in a meeting.” She mutters and sips from her drink.
”It’s the weekend.” You reply but she just shrugs, unless he changed, your father never had work on the weekends, he hated them, he hated working anyways so for him to do so is something out of character.
”Your brothers just went out, sadly they didn’t come with any of their children.” Your mum pouted and you rolled your eyes, your mum is so out of touch with everything regarding her family, or anything in general, she acts so oblivious to the dynamic of the family, how all of her children live in other countries have their businesses and don’t want to be associated with the family name, the name she fought so hard to have.
”Okay, well, I’m going to my room to change.” You say and walk off leaving your mum on the balcony, texting your brothers in the group chat that you arrived, you laid down on your bed and scrolled through social media to pass time, you didn’t want to be here at all.
Once your brothers came, they made it to your room, the eldest taking the spot beside you on the bed and the second taking the sofa. It’s been a couple months since you saw them, but they’ve been texting you every now and then. The eldest, Matteo, is 8 years older than you, the second, Marco, is 6 years older, and you’re all at the age now where this difference isn’t that big.
You’ve all lounged around, your laughter ringing in the otherwise silent house. When the sun sat down you were called by the maids for the anticipated dinner. Hopefully everything will go smoothly and you'll be out of Monaco by tomorrow night. When you got to the dining room your father still wasn’t present, but you each took your place at the dinner table, with your mum at the head of the table across from your father’s empty seat and your brother’s each taking a side to your father and you between the oldest and your mum. It didn’t take long before your father arrived, he didn’t bother with pleasantries or hellos, he just took his place at the head of the table and food was served. You all ate in silence only the sound of the silverware hitting the plates is heard, something your mum tried not to grimace at each time.
“So… why are we here?” Matteo asked when the silence stretched for a bit too long for his liking, and he as did everyone minus your father wanted to escape this dinner.
”I have something that I wanted to talk to y/n about and I thought it’s best if you’re all present, as it’ll affect everyone.” Your father said, placing his knife and fork down, he took a sip from his wine glass and ran his eyes over the three of you like a predator, no ounce of love in him, you held your breath in curiosity and dread as the air hummed with anticipation, whatever is about to come can't be good. “As you know, our family has ties with the world of cars and motorsports, and Formula 1 has been a cornerstone of our family’s legacy for decades.”
”Not this again.” Marco mutters and your father gives him a warning look that has Marco clenching his jaw but saying nothing.
”In recent years, and since you three refused to have any hand in the family business or racing of any kind, our influence has waned, our presence diminished.” Your father continued, his voice carrying over the silence with determination, he speaks like you're in mediaeval times Matteo rolls his eyes. Dread fell onto you, you had no idea where this is going since it has to do with you. “I believe it’s time for us to take action.” His gaze sweeping across the room. “To reclaim our rightful place among the elite of Formula 1.” His eyes fall onto you and you forget to breathe, Matteo looking from you to your father. “I just came from a meeting with a Ferrari representative and we’ve come to a conclusion, y/n, we’ve arranged for you to marry Charles Leclerc.” Your fork clatters ringing in the air, your siblings and you are in shock. “This union will restore our family’s honour and secure our place at the top of motorsports history once more.”
As the implication of the head of the Morelli family proposal, no not proposal, fact, words, order, yes his order sank in, a palpable tension hung in the air, uncertainty and apprehension heavy.
And then your brothers were shouting, waving their hands, rage filled them. As for you? You felt betrayal, this is a death sentence to all your aspirations and dreams. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat closing in on you, your eyes fell to your plate and hadn’t moved. You have no idea who Charles even is, you have no idea who any of the Formula 1 drivers are at the moment, you haven't been in that sphere in so long.
”Come one, y/n, we’re leaving.” Matteo says and pulls you up, you stand up emotionlessly, your father still silent as he watched, you followed Matteo when your father spoke just as you were about to leave the room.
”If you don’t agree, then you can all kiss your futures goodbye.” Your father said and he dapped at his mouth with the napkin before he placed it on the table, that stopped you in your tracks along with Matteo and Marco stopped his shouting. closing your eyes, you let go of Matteo’s hand, of course it wouldn’t be that easy, your father wouldn’t just tell you and let you refuse, he had another thing up his sleeve.
”What are you talking about?” Marco asked his glare speaking for itself.
”I mean that, if your sister refuses or if any of you say anything or try to stop this marriage, you Marco will find that your company is suddenly without business and thus you’ll go bankrupt and you have two girls at home and a wife to take care of, and you Matteo, your stocks will plummet and you won’t be able to find a job as long as I live, all your inheritance gone and no trust fund to rely on anymore.” Cruel, he’s so cruel, how can he be your flesh and blood, how can you be related to this man? He’d basically kick you all to the street and his grandchildren as well, he has no heart that’s for certain.
”You can’t do that.” Matteo said but his voice was weaker, he knows his father is capable of doing this and much worse.
”Oh but I can.” Your father said with a smirk, his eyes settling on you once again. “So what will you do, y/n, would you let your brothers go bankrupt leaving them and their families with no money or future? Could you have this on your conscience?”
”This wouldn’t be on hers, it’s you, you’re doing this, don’t act like an innocent by standard when you orchestrated this, this scheme.”
”You know what? go at it, do the best you can, we’re not letting y/n marry someone she doesn’t even know, who the heck is Charles Leclerc anyways, I swear to god father if you make her do this I’ll-“
”I’ll do it.” You said and all eyes snapped to you, a tear left your eye before you whipped it away not letting another one leave your eyes.
”Wh-what?” Marco asked confused by your words.
”I’ll do it, but you have to write everything down, make a contract, that if I go through with it, you’ll leave them alone, the inheritance, the trust fund, everything.”
“No, no, y/n, what are you doing?” Matteo asked shaking his head, he doesn’t like this, he doesn’t want you to do this, his baby sister.
”I’m doing the only thing I can to keep you and your family safe.” You say to his, your eyes leaving your father’s to look at him. ”You just had a baby girl, and Marco, you’re about to have a boy, I can’t let this affect you.” You say to your brothers, Marco falls in his chair in disbelief. “Do we have a deal?”
”We sure do.” Your father says with a wicked grin on his face.
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Earlier that day in Monaco, Charles was on his way to what he assumed was a friendly meeting with some of Ferrari’s officials. His mind was somewhere else, he was thinking about the upcoming race, race strategies, how to secure a spot on the podium, he’s reached a point where he just wants to stand on the podium not win, just be in the top 3. He’s been struggling with the team the whole season and his personal life took a turn since the middle of the last season, it seemed to him that everything is taking a horrible turn. Little did Charles know that what’s about to come is so much worse.
As Charles enters the office, he’s met with a Ferrari executive whose name eluded him at the moment and a man he never met before, but a sense of unease crept over the monegasque man as he took in the seriousness of the situation.
”Charles,” Greeted, the man he didn't know, Charles shook his hand ever the polite man. “I’m Antonio Morelli.”
Charles recognized the name instantly, he knew the history of Ferrari and their ties with the establishment of Ferrari. “Mr. Morelli, it’s lovely to meet you.”
After they finished the introduction and sat down, Antonio sitting across from Charles started speaking. “Charles, this meeting has been set up because we need to talk.”
Confusion flickered across Charles’s features, his brow furrowing in apprehension, he had no idea what Antonio Morelli could ever want with him.
“Of course, about what?”
”It’s about your future and the future of Ferrari.” His heart sank at Antonio's words, this conversation is about to change the trajectory of his life. “As you’re well aware, your recent… actions shall we say, have caused considerable damage to your reputation and more importantly the reputation of Ferrari and the team’s standing in Formula 1.” A wave of irritation surged through Charles at the implication of Antonio’s words, but he had to bite back his tongue and stop the retort that threatened to spill from his lips. He knows this is not the time to argue, and it would only serve to worsen the situation further. “In light of these circumstances, and to save your reputation and your career.” Antonio held eye contact with the driver, his tone cold and unwavering. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to present you with an ultimatum, and you can choose whichever you like, it’s up to you.” Charles’s heart skipped a beat as he braced himself for the oncoming crash, he knew that whatever was in store for him wasn’t good. “You’ll marry y/n Morelli.” He stated as if he wasn’t just offering his daughter up to a man he didn’t know, yes he knows who he is but this is his first time meeting Charles. “Or you will find yourself without a seat in Ferrari and with no future in Formula 1.”
Silence filled the room as it seemed to spin for Charles, his mind is struggling to grasp what was just told to him, it felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him leaving him without air and leaving him reeling with disbelief.
”I uh- but I…” Charles stammered struggling to come up with something to say as his voice is barely a whisper.
”There are no buts, Charles.” Antonio heard him loud and clear, his voice cutting through the turmoil going through Charles and reaching him. “This is your only option to keep your seat, your only chance to salvage and save your seat and career in Formula 1.”
Charles thought about all he went through to reach where he is now, racing in Formula 1 was his lifelong dream and he achieved it, but he hasn’t won a championship yet, he still has so much to achieve, so much to do.
“This isn't just about you Charles, this is about Ferrari as well, its about the fans and how they view you as il predestinato.” The executive said and Charles felt a surge of resentment rise within him, his fists clenching at his sides. How dare they blame him for all their problems? How dare they use him as a scapegoat for their own failings? He knows it's not just about him, it's to distract the fans from the failed car, the tractor he and Carlos are made to drive every week.
But as he met the unwavering gaze of Antonio and the executive, Charles realised that there was no escaping the reality of this ‘predicament’. He was trapped, caught in a web of deceit and manipulation and it looked like there was no escape for him.
With a heavy sigh and his head bowed, and broken spirit he nods his head in acceptance, knowing that he had no choice but to accept. No matter how much it went against everything he believed in, he had to agree, his sense of pride taking a hit. And as he left the room, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his newfound burden, Charles could only wonder what awaited him on the other side of the impossible choice that lay before him.
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Matteo and Marco both took your bag and booked you a hotel room. You had set your mind to the marriage and weren't backing down as long as your father was threatening your brothers, the only family, you count, that you have left.
It took a lot for you to make them stay back when your father called you to tell you to come home to sign the contract and to tell you what the next steps will be like. You get there and the maid greets you as usual, taking your coat, before you make your way to the office. There's a meeting table with 6 chairs placed to the side in the office, used when your father has business meetings at home, so not so often.
You place your bag on the table and sit down, your father soon walks in with a man following him. It turns out to be the lawyer, they sit across from you.
“As we've talked there's two contracts, one for the marriage, you'll share with Charles and the other for your conditions. You can start with that one.” The lawyer stated and you start reading, it takes a while as you focus on every word not wanting to miss a thing. You do find yourself getting emotional as you read, this is all becoming so real, it's actually happening. It takes a lot for you not to show the tornado of emotions swirling inside of you.
“Where do I sign?” You ask meekly and the lawyer points you to where you have to. You sign all the lines and hand him the contract.
“Okay the next one.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter and stand up.
“Let's take a break.” Your father excuses you and you head out to the bathroom furthest from the office to hide in there as you're trying to fight the tears. You're literally signing your life away, tying yourself to a man you've never met before. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you splash some cold water onto your face to calm your racing heart. But seeing how weak you look, makes you want to cry more. A few tears manage to slip down your cheeks but you pat them away, trying not to ruin your makeup. Don’t let him see how much this is affecting you, you can’t.
Charles makes it to the address sent to him, he's led to a penthouse so big and fancy it surprised him even though he's been in many expensive houses. You can tell this is owned by a billionaire, everything is a step above all the other places he's been in, yet it looked cold, unloved and un-lived in. Charles couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, he had greed to this, this arranged marriage out of desperation to keep his career, to keep his name out of the public’s mouths, however the idea of entering a marriage with a complete stranger left him feeling uneasy. When he makes it to the office, he sees Antonio and the lawyer sitting down, the chairs across from them empty, but there’s a purse on the table. Antonio and the lawyer greet him and point him to the seat across from the lawyer, and just as he sits down, the door he closed behind him is opened, and his future wife walks in. Charles looked up the Morelli family but there weren't pictures of the adult children anywhere, when they were young there’s plenty, some at F1 races even, but after a certain point, he found absolutely nothing. What he found is the parents of the family pictured at parties and lavish ad luxuries events and trips.
Charles looked starstruck when he saw you walk in, he doesn’t know what he expected but you look absolutely nothing like your father, you look elegant, soft and so innocent. He reminds himself that you’ve also agreed to this, that you’re the daughter of the man that’s forcing him, how different can you be from your parents?
You saw him in pictures, you’ve read about him, everything you could get under your hand you’ve read. From his beginning in karting to F1, to the scandals he’s been getting into for the last year or so, how much it had affected him and his sponsors. On track he’s still doing good, the best he can in the car he’s given at least, but off track he’s living the life of a fuckboy, all that after he came out of a long time relationship. To you however he’s just the man that agreed to this marriage, to further his career to get to your family’s money, be connected to Formula 1 forever even, you don’t know but you don’t like him and dread the thought of being tied to him just like your mum is to your dad.
With heavy steps you make your way to your seat next to Charles and sit down, you refuse to look at Charles, but he kept glancing at you taking you in, your father had a smirk on his face that just irritated you to no end.
”Okay, let’s go over the key points in the contract together before you both can take it and sign.” The lawyer said. “Charles and y/n, you are both not to be seen in any romantic or intimate position with anyone but each other.” This was mainly for Charles. “The public needs to think that you’re both single for now.” Easy enough you think to yourself. “In a month's time, you’ll start being spotted with each other, but confirm nothing after about 2 months, y/n you’ll be seen at a race.” You already hated this so much. “From there you have to sell that you’re actually in love, we’ll then release a statement saying that you’re in a relationship and things look to be going good. Now, in 9 months you have to get married.”
”That’s not going to be believable, getting married in under a year of knowing each other.” Charles stated wanting to scoff at the stupid plan they had set up, you take the contract and flip through it reading all the conditions the things you have to do.
”And that’s why you’ll say that you’ve known each other for a long time, and you’ve just started dating recently.” Antonio said and gave a challenging look, that shut him up straight away.
“Why do I have to move back to Monaco?” You ask frowning, you hate this country, it may be small but you hate it, you’ve just gotten out of it permanently not even five years ago.
”Because this is where Charles lives-“ You cut your dad off.
”But he can move to Italy, it’s not that far.” Your dad wasn’t happy about you cutting him off but you didn't care, your life is in Italy not in Monaco. “And he races most of the year so he’s not in Monaco most of the time.”
”y/n, Monaco is the home of Formula 1, it wouldn’t make sense to move to Italy, keep your house there if you want and go there from time to time, but you will live in Monaco.” You huff but say nothing else, wanting this hell to end already. You’re both given pens to sign the contracts and before the ink even has time to dry you leave the room, leaving the three men watching after you.
Charles asks himself what he had gotten himself into, to him you sounded like a brat throwing a tantrum, because she couldn’t get the smallest thing she wanted, and now he’s stuck with you. Now your fates are sealed, intertwined. And you’re both losing hope.
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In the next month you don’t see Charles, he was off racing, and you were back in Italy, you’ll postpone your move as much as you can, your life is all in Italy, it’s where you’re living, working, that’s where your friends are.
Both you and Charles were sent booklets with all the information that you may be asked about for the other and you had to memorise it. You took the booklet and never bothered to open it, you weren’t about to make this easy, just because you signed doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing from here. Charles however read everything, he wanted to know who you are, he hadn’t gotten the luxury of finding a wiki page or an article about you.
The media and everyone around Charles notice a difference in him, he doesn't go out or sleep around anymore, but he’s also quieter and more reserved than before. Whenever he was asked about his mode or why he’s changed, he’d just deflect the question, change the subject or simply just shrug. Charles did find himself thinking about his future all the time, regret and second thoughts clouded his mind, but it was all too late now.
It was between races when you flew back to Monaco to meet Charles for your first ‘date’. In your time in Monaco you’ve booked a hotel room to stay in, not wanting to see your parents if not needed. You met Charles at the location sent to you by your father, you still don’t have Charles’ number.
It was a small and cosy cafe, where you’re both to sit and eat for an hour or so, there will be a paid photographer (paparazzi) waiting to snap pictures of you both. You arrived first and took a table near the window, but had your back to it, not wanting your face out there straight away. You tapped your fingers on the table as you waited for the Formula 1 driver to arrive. This ‘date’ to many would be a dream, but to you it had kept you up at night, dark circles under your eyes were covered by layers of concealer.
”Uh, hi.” Charles says and takes the seat in front of you, you give him a small fake smile in return.
”Hi.” You greet him back, and then there’s a long stretch of silence, that is so awkward you wanted to kill yourself, what do you say to your future husband that you’re forced to marry on your first ‘date’? Thankfully a waitress comes by and places two menus in front of you, and so you take your time flipping through, Charles has been here many times before, he knows what he’ll order so he takes the time to shamelessly look at you. He does admit that if it weren’t for the whole marriage thing, if he saw you somewhere he’d ask you out, too bad you’re a Morelli that he’s forced to marry. “Do you know what you’ll order?”
”Yeah, do you?”
”Yes.” You both order what you want before falling into silence. Charles clears his throat, searching for something, anything to break the awkward silence.
”So… how was your day?” He asked eventually, cringing slightly at his own words, you blink at him not expecting him to talk to you at all, you hesitate for a moment before you find your voice to respond.
”Fine, thank you.” Your tone is a little guarded, on edge, not trusting Charles, but you decide to play along and return the question. “How was your day?”
”It’s way okay.” And that was the end of it before your food arrived, you eat in silence both glancing at the other from time to time. This is suffocating, it just dawned on you that this will be your life from now on.
”This is awkward, maybe we can, I don't know, try to talk maybe?” You were uncertain and admittedly very awkward, but you have to get over the silence, you hate silence like this, you’re very talkative by nature, the only time you’re silent is when you’re uncomfortable.
”Okay, we have to act like we like each other anyways.” Charles muttered and took a sip from his water. “Did you come from Italy?”
”Yeah, early this morning, you were in Spain right?” You think you’ve seen that they were racing in Spain somewhere online.
”Yes, a couple days ago.” You nod to his words and fall silent again. “Nice weather today.”
You couldn’t help yourself but laugh, nothing is truly funny, but look at you talking about the weather and nonsense, trivial things, the irony of the situation is so funny. Charles smiles as he sees you laughing, he didn’t expect it but it’s his first time seeing you do more than a fake smile, you’re usually stoic, no emotions at all.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just this whole thing is just so…”
”Weird.”
”Yes.”
”Believe me I know.”
This breaks the ice a little, you still talk about trivial things, nothing personal at all, you talk about Italy he tells you about Spain, what countries you both think is better than the other, trivial, not important talk. But talk you did. As an hour came to close, you both paid for your part of the late lunch, Charles didn’t put up a fight when you said you’ll pay half of the food, he felt like you’re not at the point where he can offer to pay.
Walking outside you look up at him and give him one of those small smiles, that to him looked practiced and not genuine.
“I guess, I’ll see you at our next scheduled, uh ‘date’.” You say doing air quotes at the date part.
“Yeah, sure.” You turn to leave before Charles stops you. “Wait, let me get your number, so we don’t have to go through people to schedule something.”
“Great idea.” You mutter and take out your phone and you both exchange numbers. “Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
With that you both went on your own ways, you went to walk around and get to your hotel, the weather is nice after all, and Charles went with him in his car.
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You and Charles went on a few more ‘dates’ each one with more pictures online, no one has figured out who you were yet, something you were forever thankful for.
F1Gossip
Liked by username5, username320, and 302,582
hear me out! I think charles is over his hoe era, in the last month he’s been seen with the same girl in Monaco, Austria and Hungary. I repeat it’s the same girl.
No one knows who she is but or what she does but could this be Charles new girlfriend?
More comments
username234 honestly good for him
username20 FINALLY!! I was over him with a different girl each week 💃
username083 I wonder who she is
username72 not good enough for charles that’s for sure 🤢
username294 i bet it’s just another girl who he flies around w/ him so he wouldnt have to go out and look for one
username498 come one guys we don’t even know who she is
username903 it’s giving me gold digger vibes
username465 Charles be careful
username983 seriously these comments are not it 🙄
username438 shut up no one asked you
username983 and I don’t remember charles asking for your opinion
username438 stop asking like you know him when you dont
username983 says yyou
username474 I don’t like this 😒
username832 me neither
username094 this is whey drivers dont post their relationships because you people dont even know who the poor girl is and you’re already attacking her
username873 Olivia was better
username384 girl they ended over a year ago get over it
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You’ve seen the photos and you’re impressed with how much you and Charles managed to sell it, one thing you didn't like is the comments, you’re dreading the moment they find out who you were. You and Charles would usually meet up somewhere for half an hour, once you got the okay that the pictures were good you’d both go your separate ways. Now he has his summer break which he’s spending in Monaco, so once more you fly to Monaco to start the next part of the ‘plan’. The soft launch.
Your socials are all private, but soon you’ll have to make them public, another thing you have to change. You made it to Charles yacht in Monaco, he was already there waiting for you.
”Hi.” You greet the Monegasque, with a wave of your hand and a small smile, Charles returns your greeting and helps you get on the yacht. You settle down as Charles gets the yacht out in the water for a good spot. You brought your sketchbook with you, you’ve had a few ideas about some paintings for a gallery you wanted to be part of and inspiration just hit you that morning, so as Charles sailed for a bit you sat at the table and brought up your supplies. You’re the kind of artist that likes to sketch things out before putting them to the canvas.
”What are you drawing?” Charles asks you when he comes in.
”Just a sketch for a painting I want to do.” You say and look up at him to see him handing you a drink. “Thank you.”
”I never saw any of your work before.” Charles stated and you smile taking out your phone, you always love showing off your work. Not many people in your life were interested in art besides those you met in uni so when you find someone you just want to show them.
”I’ll show you.” Charles sits next to you and looks at the phone, and suddenly he’s seeing a side to you that he’s never seen before, your face is bright and the smile on your face is true, this is your passion. you’re explaining to him what each piece is about and what they mean, the colours, the composition, what inspired it. In the next 30 minutes he’s heard more from you than he’s heard in the last month. Charles is smiling at you when you realise you’ve been ranting for a while. “What?”
”I just never seen this side of you before.” He shrugs and you sigh leaning back in your seat, angled slightly to his side.
”We don’t know each other, I only know what I’ve seen online.” You tell him, your smile is long gone, and you find yourself needing to talk to him about the arrangement, you both have never talked about it before.
”You haven’t read the booklet?” He asked confused, he’s read his over and over again.
”Just the first page, it’s all stuff you can find online anyways, besides I bet you mine is just filled with things my parents think they know about me, but aren’t true.” Charles is confused by your words, he’s been under the impression that you wanted this marriage to happen, that this was a part of your plan. It seems to him now that your relationship with your parents is a bit rocky.
“I feel like there's a lot of things we should talk about.” Charles said as he got the feeling that maybe you aren't as welling as he originally thought.
“True, I actually hoped to talk to you.” You said and were Facing Charles fully, he also turned to face you, your knees touching lightly. “Look, I know you that we don't know each other, and that there's things that we both want to do that this marriage wouldn't allow us to do, so I have a proposal.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“I wouldn't mind you being with other girls, we'll be married in a few months and i know I'm not your type, so do whatever you want just keep to discreet.” Charles was dumbfounded by your words, he cant believe that this is what you think of him. He's also a bit irritated. But what can he say, his attractivities haven't been the most private as of late. “But, I'm Keeping my house in Italy and I'll go Monaco if I have to and nothing else.”
“Sounds fair.” Charles said and you put out your hand for a handshake, which he returned. “There's no reason for us not to be friends.”
“True, I mean we're stuck together for life now.” You say and shrug. “We should take some pictures for Instagram.”
You both go out and begin the small photoshoot you had to do. Posing and taking pictures to choose one for Charles to post on his stories.
By the time the Yacht docked the sun was nearly down, Charles got off first and helped get off.
“When are you leaving?” Charles asked as you both walked to the parking lot, you rented a car this time around.
“As soon as I find a plane, I usually don't book my return flight until I'm sure we have everything we need.” You explain and he nods. “Why?”
“Well, you see…” Charles rubbed the back of his head nervously, he didn't want to bring it up but he's been putting it off for so long. “My mum wants to meet you.”
“What? Why?” you're confused why his mum would want to meet you, unless. “She thinks this is real?”
“I couldn't tell her, it would break her heart, she would feel guilty and upset and I can't do that to her believe me I tried but everytime I couldn't.” Charles went on a mini rant, now this a side to him you never saw. You can tell how much he cares and lives his mum, you couldn't say you understand his feeling but just from hearing him you can sort of empathise with him.
“Okay, I'll do it.” You say and he stops from talking and looks at you, with wide eyes.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it means alot to you, I’ll play my part.” You shrug, not thinking much about your choice. “Practice anyway, we haven’t acted as a couple in front of anyone really.”
“Thank you.”
”No worries.”
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The next day, you got dressed and headed to Charles’s house where his family was gathering for an early dinner and a night together, enjoying the time where the three Leclerc boys had nothing to do. When you arrived, you could hear the laughter from inside, making you pause as the nerves came at full force, your hands started to shake and you had to pause before ringing the bell a few times. Taking a deep breath you pressed the bell, and waited. The door opened and you saw Charles, he must’ve been laughing before he opened the door because he had a big smile on that showed his dimples, and they didn’t dim when he saw you. You gave him a nervous smile.
”Hey, come in.” He greeted you and walked in seeing some of his family, this must be the reason behind the smile and the friendliness. Yes Charles has never been rude to you but you wouldn't call him friendly or loving or caring. Neither have you to be honest, so you wouldn’t blame him. You give Charles a quick hug and press your cheek to his in greeting. You put on your diplomatic smile that you had perfected when you were in boarding school, and look at the Leclercs, thankfully it wasn’t the whole family, just the boys and their mother. “Maman, this is y/n, the one I told you about.”
”Ah, y/n it's lovely to meet you.” Pascal comes up and pulls up in for a hug, that you clearly weren’t expecting, your eyes went wide for a bit before you returned the hug. Her smile and hug came in as a relief amidst the lies and the unknown tension between her and Charles.
”It’s lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc.” You say in perfect french, and pull back to see her grinning face, all your words and smiles felt hollow, meaningless , you know the truth behind all this and it isn’t easy to lie to someone who’s so affected by it.
”Oh please call me Pascal, Charles didn’t tell me you speak French.” Pascal says and pulls you behind her to the living room where the other other Leclerc boys are.(after this point everything is French between the French speakers)
”Must’ve wanted to surprise you.” You say smoothly and smile as you shake hands with Arthur before you do the same to Lorenzo, who seemed reluctant, but you think nothing of it. His brother did sleep around with lots of women recently, and you’re the first one they’ve met in a while as well.
”I wonder what else he didn’t tell me.” Pascal gives Charles a look and he shrugs with a smile, he didn’t know you could speak French, it wasn’t in the booklet, it said you speak Italian, English and German.
“Maman, I just wanted you to find out from her.” Charles says and sits down next to you on the sofa.
”y/n, you’ve come at a good time, I was finishing the food.” Pascal said and went to go to the kitchen before you stopped her.
”Do you need help?” You ask standing to follow her but she refuses your help and tells Arthur to come help her instead. With a groan the youngest follows his mother to the kitchen and you’re left with the oldest two.
”So what exactly do you do, y/n?” Enzo asks, the way he said your name left a bad feeling in you, you looked at Charles and he gave you a nod in reassurance, but it did nothing to ease you at all. You’re in the lion’s den right now.
”I’m an artist.” You say with a polite smile.
”So you don’t work.” He said simply and your smile falls.
”Enzo.”
”What? I’m just getting to know your wife.” Enzo said and you freeze. His tone is sarcastic, your heart sank and your facade dropping. “Oops not yet I guess.”
“Come on, let’s eat.” You’ve only just met Arthur but you've never been grateful for anyone in your life. Enzo leaves the room first and you turn to look at Charles with fire in your eyes.
”You told him.” You hiss glaring at the Ferrari driver.
”Yes, I had to tell someone, and he won’t tell anyone.” Charles defends himself and you roll your eyes. “Your whole family knows.”
”Yes, but you know that, why didn't you tell me?” You huff, not liking how he didn't tell you.
”I just didn’t have the chance.”
”How convenient.” You walk away from Charles and to the dining room, where they were all sitting down, the polite fake smile was back on your face. You sat down in a chair and Charles sat next to you. You were back to playing boyfriend and girlfriend, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Enzo’s eyes on you. Another thing you’ve noticed is how loving the family is, even Enzo’s anger is justified and comes out from a place of love. Your brothers love you but you weren't raised with love around you and it shows in how people act and interact with each other. You did get to know the family a lot that day, with good food, good wine, and amazing company. But at the end of the night when Pascal made Charles drive you home/hotel since he didn’t drink and you did, you sat in silence as the guilt ate at you slowly, you were looking out the window from Charles’s Ferrari watching the scenery lost in thought.
”I didn’t know you spoke French.” Charles said breaking the silence and bringing you out of your thoughts, you turn to look at him.
”Yeah, I’ve been speaking it since I was young.”
”It’s not in the booklet.” You laugh at his words and little pout he had on his face, looks like someone took reading the booklet to heart.
”Told you it’s not all true, I refused to speak French to my parents after the age of 9.” You told him and he gave you a questioning look filled with curiously, your family dynamic alway puzzling him and leaving him utterly confused. “They always wanted me to do this or that, and at home we always spoke Italian and then suddenly they wanted us to speak French, I learnt it but never spoke it in front of them, I speak six languages fluently, and know the basics of a few more.”
”SIX!” Charles is impressed, he speaks three and that was hard for him, imagine six.
”Yeah.” You chuckle at his surprise and bring out your hands to count them down. “Italian, because I’m Italian, French because Monaco, duh, German because of my school in Switzerland, English is a language everyone just learns, Spanish because I went to a trip to Spain in 8th grade and loved the language and then Dutch cause why not, and it has some similarities to German when it comes to vocabulary.”
“Wow, I’m impressed, and surprised more impressed though.” Charles says and you smile a genuine smile.
”I’m glad to impress, and if you ever need a translator you know who to find.”
Charles came to a stop in front of the hotel, he never asked why you never stay with your family when you’re here but he could only guess. “You know, you don't have to stay at a hotel, every time you're here.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.” You say unbuckling your seatbelt.
”You wouldn’t.”
”I don’t know, maybe you’d have some company, I’m okay here seriously.” Charles sighed and here it is again your thoughts of him.
”I haven’t been with anyone since I’ve signed the contract.”
”Why.”
”Because no matter what, I’m not a cheater.”
”But we’re not in a relationship.” silence
”Have you been with anyone?”
”No, that’s not what i meant, I just mean that you can live your life how you want it.”
”Well, I don’t want to be a cheater we’re getting married in a few months.”
”Well, I’m not with anyone and haven’t been in almost a year.”
”Okay.”
”Okay, see you later Charles.”
”See you.”
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Charles_leclerc
Liked by Landonorris, Maxverstappen1, your username and 3,380,394 others
No place like Monaco ❤️
More Comments
username93 we saw the last slide charles
username24 Charles in his soft launch era 🔥
username37 does this mean the end to his hoe era for real
username76 I’m going to miss fuckboy Charles
username37 You’ll be missed charles 💔
username83 you all think its the same girl from the paparazzi pictures 🤔
username69 I think so, same hair and everything
Landonorris 👀
Carlossainz55 when did this happen?
username28 lol not even his friends knew
username86 I bet @/pierregasly knows what up
Pierregasly not this time
username08 can’t believe there’s a day where Pierre is as clueless as we are
username90 I bet she’ll be gone in a week or two
username87 Uh who is this?
username48 Charles be careful there’s a gold digger trying to leach of you 🤮🐍
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Charles posted a few more times, without bringing your face in continuing the soft launch part of the ‘plan’. you’ve met his mother another time, and like the first time, seeing her so happy for Charles and being in love with you left you with guilt that kept you up at night. Alas it was time for you to make your appearance at a race, your dad had talk to you on the phone and told you to hurry up, he also tried to arrange for a ‘family dinner’ that you’ve refused over and over again. With that being said you texted Charles and you both agree for you to go to the race in the Netherlands. You’ve arrived separately from Charles in, coming from Italy. Charles’s room was a suite at the hotel, with a big sofa and a king sized bed. Charles arrived a day before you and was already out for media duties for quite some time, you had a work obligation that you couldn’t get out of and you haven’t really tried.
By the time you arrived and were out of the airport and at the hotel it was already getting dark out, you got into Charles’s room with the key he left for you at the reception. The room was clean, you've noticed with his suitcase open on the side, the first thing you did was shower and get into some lounge clothes, it was an oversized set that you wore around the house when you had guests over usually, not the usual boxer shorts and bralette you enjoyed.
Your phone has been going for a good 15 minutes now, making you sigh and go to the balcony to get fresh air with your phone in hand as you willed yourself to pick up. It was night time, and you had only turned the side lamp on in the room, making very faint light come out to the outside. after staring at the screen for what felt like eternity and with a shaky breath, you finally muster the courage to pick up his latest call. Your heart was pounding in your chest.
”y/n, finally, I’ve been calling you for days now.” Your father’s voice rang through the line, it was laced with irritation and anger, all directed towards her, as always leaving her shaky and scared.
”Sorry, father, I’ve been busy.” Your voice is barely over a whisper, a strained silence hung in the air for a moment, your hold on the phone tightened.
”Look, I’ve been patient enough with both you and Charles, but if you keep ignoring me and not doing as I asked, then your brothers will bare the consequences of your action, or none there of.” His tone was serious and unyielding, making you feel like a child once more.
“We will, I promise, tomorrow I’m going to the paddock.” You tell him straight after, and you hate how you want to please him just to get him off your back, the fear in you not lessening with age, he still has a hold over you.
“Good, that’s good.” He hummed and you hear your mother talking next to him for a moment before he’s speaking again. “Your mother is asking when you’ll be over for dinner with Charles.”
”I don’t know, we’re both super busy and-“
”And nothing, you come here as soon as you can, I’ll have none of this busy nonsense.” Your father interrupts his tone firm. “It’s time for the excuses to stop, I’ve been letting you handle how you get it out to the public on your own, but what I say goes.”
”I’ll talk to Charles, we’ll-we’ll figure something out.” You mutter and tears gather in your eyes, you try to fight them but like always when it came to your father they just fall freely. No matter what, you have no choice but to complain with his wishes/demands. For some reason after meeting his family, the thought of Charles seeing yours is leaving you with a sense of dread and despair. soft sobs leave your mouth in waves, you look out at the view, you’re high, the street looks far away, and you wonder, just for a second, if you jump would you die instantly or would you be in pain, is that kind of pain better or worse that the one you’re in. shaking your head away from those thoughts, you turn to go inside.
Unbeknownst to you Charles has made it to the hotel room, just to catch the last of the conversation, and he’s heard you cry. He stood in the bedroom just watching you crumple under the weight of your emotions, a few times he had to stop himself form going to you and pulling you in for a hug.
When he sees you turning to come back inside he makes his way to the door of the room and acts like he just came in.
”Hey.” Charles greets you softly, he couldn’t act happy when he just saw you falling apart.
”Hey.” You put on a brave smile but he could see your wet cheeks and red eyes, your nose red as well. “How was today?”
”It was okay, tiring, but good.” Charles says and his eyes don’t leave your figure as he watched you escaping to the sofa where you practically had your back to him.
”That’s good, I’m tired as well, I think I’ll go to bed now.” You say and pull on the extra covers you found in the closet.
”Now? did you eat?”
“No, but I’m tired and not hungry.”
”Oh, okay, sleep well then.”
”Thanks, you too.”
Charles walks into the bedroom and closes the door lightly, you’re not sleeping and you won't find sleep for a while, your mind is swirling with emotions and thoughts that are hunting you down. You don’t cry but a few tears slip as you try not to think about what tomorrow will hold or all the things you have to do.
The next day, you wake up bright and early, before Charles’s alarm goes off, you don't need to shower since you did the night before, but you slip into the bathroom, and start on your makeup, and get dressed. You know that every single thing about you will be all over social media and criticised and analysed by thousands if not millions of people Charles has over 10 million followers on Instagram after all. When Charles was up, you were just finishing up your hair, the door was open. You heard movement from behind you and looked up through the mirror to see a shirtless half asleep Charles, his sweatpants low on his hips, your hands stopped mid air with your curling iron. You’re just a woman, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder, starting with his messy and tousled hair moving to his chest and arms and his abs.
“Morning.” His morning voice made you blink and look away, you had to swallow before you were able to regain your composure and your voice.
“Morning, I’m almost done.” You say and focus on not looking at him and just looking at what you were doing.
”That’s okay.” Charles says and goes to the second sink in the bathroom next to you and starts brushing his teeth, you both were doing your business in silence but your eyes wonder to him every few seconds, his eyes was half closed and he was half asleep still, so for you it was a blessing, being able to look at him as much as you wanted, so you admired him without him seeing.
You’re finished before him and leave the bathroom, it didn’t take long for him to be ready, dressed in his Ferrari team kit and a pair of skinny jeans, you bite your tongue not to comment on it, you’re not close for you to say anything about his choice of clothes.
On the ride to the track, you felt a sense of anticipation and excitement, your eyes looking outside the window taking in the city, after today your life as you know it will change. Every single thing you do will be under the microscope, you felt like a teen again but this time it’s not going to be just your parents watching, it’s going to be thousands of people, all with their opinions that they’re not afraid of saying, online at least.
”It’s going to be okay.” Charles said and you turned to look at him only to find him already looking at you. “You don’t have to be nervous, after we go inside, you can stay in my room if you want.”
”No it’s okay, I can do it.” You tell him with a grateful smile, as far as arranged marriages go, Charles isn’t the worst option, if you met in other circumstances you wouldn’t have gone for him simply for his career choice in F1 but you’re glad it’s not someone worse.
When you make it there and park, Charles gets out first and walks to your side opening the door, all with a smile on his face, he helps you out of the Ferrari and you get out and take your first look around, there’s fans everywhere all screaming and shouting his name. Some of his team are already waiting for him, and when he goes to sign caps and merch, one of the females introduces herself and stands with you. you ask her about her job and make small talk, while you’re waiting. She also gives you your pass that Charles requested and you put it around your neck.
“He’s signing a lot of things.” You observe your ‘boyfriend’ as he’s going from one person to the other.
“Yeah, he’s known for singing anything.” You hum and watch how nice Charles is with everyone. “We usually have to pull him away.”
They did pull him away and inside the paddock you guys went. Charles let you walk a bit behind him, knowing that photos of him will be taken and you’re nervous enough, he didn’t want to make it worse for you. it’s been so long since you’ve been at a race it feels like a life time ago, you forgot the sheer magnitude of the event, the air was alive with the hustle and bustle of people around you, creating an atmosphere that’s charged with excitement, and anticipation. After a long walk you make it to Ferrari’s motorhome, Charles introduces you to a few people who you can stick with when he’s on duty. His hand was on the small of your back when he was leading you through the crowds, but other than that you both weren’t showing any signs of affection at all. That didn’t change the fact that once he was in his race suit and it was hanging but his waist you were looking, it was today that you’ve realised how fit he is, he doesn’t just have a good face but a fit body as well.
Watching FP1 brought back all your memories of when you enjoyed racing, I mean how could you not, you’re a Morelli it’s in your blood. Maybe if your relationship was different with your parents who knows where you’d be today. In effort to distance yourself from your parents you’ve strayed from a lot of things that you enjoyed that they loved or wanted you to do.
Between the practice sessions Charles took you with him to get lunch at the cafeteria, he had to stick to his diet and you choose whatever you wanted. sitting down you’re soon joined by Carlos Sainz, you haven’t met him yet, but you saw him when you were looking up Charles online and his face is everywhere along with all the other drivers.
”Hey mate, you haven’t introduced us.” Carlos said and sat down across from the two of you, Charles was telling you about what to expect during the rest of the day and the next two days before he was cut off by his teammate.
”Carlos meet y/n, y/n meet Carlos.” Charles introduced you and you gave the Spanish driver a smile and offered to shake his hand.
”Hey Carlos.”
“Hello, I didn’t know Charles was bringing anyone with him today.” Carlos said before he started eating.
“Yes, I had work and we weren’t sure if I could make it or not.” Half a lie, you knew you’d be here for a while but you did have work.
“Ah, so what do you do?” Carlos asked and he was expecting to hear a model.
”An artist.” Carlos was surprised and proceeded to ask you about what kind of art, where you studied and about living in Italy. The three if you walked back to the brahe together that’s when Charles informed his teammate that you speak Spanish.
”You know y/n speaks Spanish, she says fluently but I’m not good enough to verify that.” Charles said and you gave him a look that had him laughing.
”You don’t believe me?” You ask him and he shrugs innocently.
"No need to worry, I can verify it for you." Carlos fake comforted his teammate and turned to you. "So where did you learn Spanish?"
"I took online classes when I was in 8th grade." You told him and he was impressed, you laughed at his surprised look, you are fluent and your accent is good. "I went to Spain once and just loved the language."
"Mate, she's fluent." Carlos turned to look at Charles who laughed at the two of you, Carlos then turned and continued talking to you. Charles was needed for something and so he left the two of you talking, Carlos was asking you about where you went in Spain and if you want to go again, he recommended a few places and then he learnt you spoke six languages, and so you were made to talk to him in all of them and his face was priceless, had you laughing. He may not have understood everything but he
knows enough to know you're fluent.
"Charles, where did you find this one?" Carlos joked with Charles when he came back, and that had your smile faltering and for Charles to freeze a bit, if Carlos noticed he said nothing.
“It’s a secret.”
“Fine, have your secrets.”
The rest of the day went by nicely and seamlessly, the Ferrari boys did good, no one was beating Max but they've done good. You haven't checked your phone all day, when you made it back to the hotel, Charles went to shower and you laid on the sofa to scroll through. Your Instagram account has gained over 10K followers, you had pictures of your work more than ones of you, but the secret is out, now everyone knows you. You didn't dare check Twitter; the app always scares you.
You heard the shower turn off, when you got a call from your father you contemplated not answering but knowing this would make it much worse you just picked up.
“Hello.” you say on the phone and close your eyes tight, your head on the pillow.
“What do you think you're doing?” Was the first thing you heard, he was angry very angry at what you have no idea.
“Wh-”
“Shut up I'm not done talking, do you know what you've done, why are there more pictures of you and Carlos than with you and Charles. Do you want to ruin the family reputation, do you not take this seriously?”
“What are you talking about?” Today was good. You had fun today and you've done everything he asked you to do, yes reluctantly and you push it off but you do it nonetheless, you sit up as you get agitated. “I've done EVERYTHING you asked me to do, I was just talking to Carlos, there's nothing to it.”
“Don't you fucking talk back to me young lady, haven't done anything good your whole life, you never listen, tomorrow I better see you and Charles selling this or you'll feel the consequences to your actions.” He hangs up and you throw your phone away, cursing under your breath your body shakes with sobs, your head in your hands. Nothing is ever enough for your father, you're never enough.
Charles sighs and this time he doesn't think about it he sits down beside you and pulls you in for a hug, you let him, your face hiding in his neck. Charles shushes you and holds you, you're clutching his shirt in your fist. Charles has a good heart he
doesn't like seeing people crying and he's come to see you as a friend now, a new friend that he's getting to know. It makes him angry that a father would make their daughter cry this much and wouldn't care, he feels blessed for having his parents and makes him feel bad for you. Your childhood must've not been easy. He whispers words of comfort in French and lets you let it all out, your body is shaking for a while
before you slowly stop, when Charles looks down he sees you sleeping. He moves you slowly not wanting to wake you up and carries you bridal style, and he manages to get you to bed before you begin to stir.
"What?" you say confused.
"Hey, just sleep." Charles says and pushes your hair out of your face, you look around and realise you're in his bed.
“No, this is your bed.” You tell him and try to get up but he stops you.
“Just sleep, it can't be that comfortable on the sofa.” He says and you lay back down.
“But you have work tomorrow.” You mutter and rub your eye, it's a bit sensitive from all the crying you've been doing.
“It's fine, a night on the sofa wouldn't hurt me.” Charles says with a smile but you're stubborn, you’re not about to let a man that drives fast cars for a living sleep on the sofa and wake up with back pains.
“Well the bed is big, we can share.” You say and Charles looks at you, he takes you in, you're half asleep, your eyes puffy and bloodshot with tones of worries and things to think about but here you are wanting to make sure he's okay and comfortable.
“Okay, yeah.” Before Charles could make it to his side of the bed you're already asleep, he lays there and wonders how many times you've cried yourself to sleep, how many sleepless nights you've had, how many times you went though restless days by yourself. He knows you have two brothers, he knows they're kind to you that they're not like your parents, but they're not in your life, it seemed to him that they moved out once they were old enough and forgot about you a little, both with their own lives now.
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The next morning Charles asks you what your father wanted and you didn't really want to tell him at first but he managed to get it out of you.
"Just tell me from now on, we're both in this not just you." Charles tells you as he drives to the circuit.
“But this is your life, and this is your career and I just don't want to be a burden or for you to have to think that you have to be stuck with me all day or something.” You tell him, angling yourself to face him.
“y/n, we're a team, okay, for this to work we have to be always on the same page and I consider you my friend now, so just let me help you where I can and you help me where you can okay?” You smile at his words, a team, you have someone on your team.
“Okay.”
When you make it to the circuit, it's a repeat of the day before, you stand to the side while Charles does his thing and he walks in front of you, but half way through he stops and holds his hand out for you with a smile, you blink a couple of times before you take his hand. When you get to the garage Charles is whisked away for debrief and you're left there, you were looking at his car admiring the Ferrari, when a mechanic sees you and walks over.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" He asks and you look up at him with a smile.
“Yeah, it's been years since I was this close to a Formula 1 car.” You tell him, there's rumours around that you're a Morelli and everyone in Ferrari knows of your family, so it takes him by no surprise that you've been close to one before. “It's so different from the ones in the early 2000s.”
“Much different, we have done a lot of changes, look…” And he begins showing you what has changed, why cars nowadays are faster and stronger, the aerodynamics and mechanical differences, some things go over your head, but you know the basics of a formula 1 car.
When Charles finishes up, he sees you talking with the mechanic. He's leaning over the halo as he's showing you something, Charles smiles and walks over.
“Do you want to get in?” Charles asks and you turn to look at him startled, and excited, giddy even.
“Can I?” You ask with a grin and he nods, one of the PR crew takes out his phone to video this while another takes pictures, you're a Morelli and you're getting into the car and Charles is now back in a committed relationship so he's back in his good boy era, all things that made them want to document this happening.
“Place your foot here.” Charles says and points to a spot, you do as he says and he holds on to your waist as you wobble a little before you push yourself up and over the halo, he removes the steering wheel before you sit down and watches you as you get comfortable in his car. His smile is big on his face as you get excited.
“This is amazing.” You say and Charles puts back the steering wheel. You put your hands on the wheel. “So many buttons.”
“Can you reach the paddle?” Charles asked amused, he can tell that the seat is a bit big for you, you wiggle your leg and shake your head no.
“You should be thankful I'm shorter or I would've taken your seat.” You tease him and a few people laugh.
“You like the view from the car?” Charles asks and you nod looking up at him, he's leaning over the halo to look at you.
“Yeah, last time I was inside one I was like 6 or 7.” You tell him and he hums to himself, always finding something new about you, you were right about the fact that the booklet had many wrong things, it missed a lot as well.
At one point in the day Fred came over to say hello to you, he like everyone found out who you were.
“Ms. Morelli, it's nice to meet you.” You shake his hand and smile at the team principal.
“Please call me y/n, it's nice to meet you too.”
“It's been a while since we saw one of the Morelli's in the paddock.” Fred said and you felt Charles move a bit beside you. “haven't seen your father as well.”
“Yeah, well me and my siblings went to school and then uni and just were so busy.” You say and don't mention your father, he has a lot of influence in Ferrari. Charles has a hand on your back in comfort, it seems that after yesterday he's taken the role of comforting you, there's something that has definitely changed in your relationship, you've grown closer and you feel comfortable around each other.
“Yes of course, who knew it'll be Charles that'll bring you back.” He commented and you looked at Charles and smiled, he returned the smile with one of his own. You both knew the truth behind everything and it was killing you both to have to be lying to everyone like that, but why is it getting easier, why is it that since you've grown closer and find more about the other that it's not necessarily all lies.
The rest of the weekend went along great, you met a lot of people and as expected your name and your family's relation to Ferrari was everywhere. Those calling you a gold-digger have now turned to calling you attention seeker. You did post pictures of you to Instagram and the Ferrari team posted the video of you getting in the car, and somehow they found pictures of you in an F1 car from the 2000s, you've never seen that picture before but here it was. Charles texted you saying how you've been in a Ferrari way earlier than him, making you laugh imagining him pouting a little at the thought. After that weekend you've been texting more, talking more and just discovering everything about the other.
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A day before Charles has to fly to Monza you've both in Monaco for the 'family dinner' you've been dreading so much. You've made it to Charles's house to meet there before you head 'home'. Charles was in his bedroom finishing getting ready and you were on the sofa scrolling through your social media and texting your brothers to see when they'll be there.
“Is this okay?” Charles asks, coming out of his bedroom you look up from your phone and see him in a tan dress shirt, a blazer with a pair of dark pants, not skinny, he has one of his watches on and no other accessories. He. Looked. HOT.
“Yeah, just lose the jacket.” You say and stand up, he takes his jacket off and places it to the side. He holds his arms out for your opinion and you smile. Oh if you were a normal couple going to see your normal family, this would've been perfect. Instead you're going to see the man that's been threatening you both. You left your small carry-on at Charles' house, planning to head back to his, so you could fly out to Italy together.
Charles drove the small distance to your family house and parked in the space that's meant for you. You got a text from your brothers Telling you they're already there.
“Are you ready?” You ask Charles in the elevator.
“Yes, are you?” He doesn't want to see your father ever again, but this is much worse for you, you're related to that man.
“As I'll ever be.” You hesitate for a second before you say. “I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.”
“you don't have to.”
“I feel like I should though.” You both don't say more on the topic, as always a maid opens the door for you, and you both step inside, you're led to the formal living room, where the guests are always hosted, can't show everyone we're normal and have normal looking living rooms, oh no what will they say about us. The looks are where formal ends, because once you walk in you smile seeing how Matteo is sat with
his legs spread, and Marco is slouched in his seat, they're both being extra with it and you and your parents know it but it doesn't mean it's not funny.
"Oh y/n, dear I haven't seen you in so long." Your mum says and walks up to you kissing both your cheeks before she moves on quickly to Charles. “You must be Charles, it's good to finally meet you.”
“It's uh, it's good to meet you too.” Charles doesn't know what he expected but it wasn't this, his eyes moved from your mother to your brothers who had their sights on him, making him a bit nervous. They're protective of you, but so is he and they might not like him for marrying you, but he doesn't like them for not taking good care of you. He shakes all their hands and you exchange hugs, you don't bother saying or doing anything with your father other than a quick hello, before you both sit on a sofa together.
It's been four months since the start of this whole thing, and here you are all gathered together, the people affected, threatened, forced and orchestrated by this marriage.
"I heard you haven't won any races this season." Marco said and your eyes snapped to him, his tone is hostel, not friendly at all.
“No, RedBull has been dominating for a while." Charles says, shaking the dig thrown at him.
“He's been on podiums though.” You find yourself sticking up for Charles, he gives you a grateful look, which you return with a smile.
“So he hasn't been winning.”
“No one has been but Verstappen.” You roll your eyes at the childish behaviour your older brothers gained suddenly.
“And you grew up in Monaco?” Matteo then asks him.
“Where are you going with this?” You ask him confused by all the questions.
“What? I'm just getting to know my brother in law.” Matteo tried to act all harmless and innocent but you know your brothers well enough to know there's more to it than that.
“No you're not, please cut it out, it's not like we're all here because we want to anyways.” Your mum gasps, you give her a look, why is she acting like this is normal? You're all been forced to be here and as innocent as she likes to act, she's always in on what your father is up to. She knows everything.
“Let's move to the dining room, why don't we?” your father says and stands up, he thrived on chaos so he's happy how things are right now, split and concur is his favourite method. Charles takes your hand in his, making you pause and look at him he mouths 'it's okay,' and you nod and try to return the smile but you’re not confident and it shows.
Your mum made your brothers sit next to each other so you and Charles sat next to each other, he's closest to your mother and you're next to your father. Food was already laid out for all of you, the start of the meal was silent.
“You know y/n, I'm so happy you're finally in a relationship.” Your mother suddenly says and you stop the fork from reaching your mouth to look at her like she's crazy.
“What are you talking about?” Did she mean you and Charles or something else?
“I'm talking about you and Charles, you silly girl.” You scoff and place your fork on the table.
“You do know that we're forced right? You were here when your husband told me.” Your father sighs not liking where this is going, he's okay with you and your brothers doing whatever to each other but for a twisted reason that is not love he hates when you speak back to your mother.
“Yes mother, and besides, Charles isn't really a golden boy to be proud of having as a son-in-law.” Marco takes the chance to bring Charles in again, he's showing him that he doesn't approve of him.
“You know if you didn't like it, why didn't you stop this?” Charles asks Marco, he's tired of being blamed and the one taking the hits when the person responsible for all of this is sitting two seats down from him.
“Because he threatened to cut us off and stop us from working.” Marco was getting agitated and angry.
“Marco shut up!” You exasperated.
“And what? You let your sister take the fall for you, so you could live happily.” Charles shot back, anger for you cursing through his veins.
“Everyone calm down.” Your mum tried to reason but everyone ignored her.
“Oh so you think you care more about her than we do, now?” Matteo sneers and you groan, this testosterone fight is only going to lead to chaos.
“I wasn't the one who left her alone.”
“Okay, you all shut up right now!” your father shouted and everyone fell silent again. “This is unacceptable, Charles and y/n will be married, and you're all going to be happy about it and that's the last I'll hear of it.”
“So now you're telling us how to feel?” The words leave your mouth before you realise, Charles takes your hand in his, and you slowly look from the plate you had in front of you and up to your father, there’s not going back now. “You've dictated our lives, and even now we're all adults you're making us do what you want, we've done
everything you've asked, but you've never been happy, we were never good enough for you.”
“Don't talk back to me.”
“No, it's not fair, you sold me to someone you don't know, I'm your daughter.” You say and turn to look at your mother. “And you keep acting like you love us, when you know everything and just do nothing, you've never stood up to us.” She takes a sip from her wine glass. “Yes, that's all you do, drink.” You stand up and throw your napkin on the plate. “Let's go Charles.”
Charles stands up and follows you out, as your father shouts after you. “You stop right there you stupid girl.”
“I'll get married, okay, I'll do it, I'll do everything in the contract, anything other than that is none of your business.” You say not turning to look at him as you spoke those words and leave your hand clutching Charles's tightly.
Charles doesn't let go of your hand, and it gives you comfort, you have someone on your side at all times now, looking at Charles you're happy it's him you'll marry and not someone else.
“Thank you.” Your voice is just over a whisper, the dinner took too much out of you.
“Why? I don't think I've made it better.”
“No, you made it all so much better.” Charles sends you a questioning look, tightening your hold on his hand. “You were by my side.”
“I'll always be on your side.” Charles says and your heart skips a beat, there, he's done it, Charles Leclerc has done it, he has your heart, it belongs to him now and there's nothing you or anyone could do to change this. Charles doesn't let go of your hand when you arrive, he just holds your hand when you're walking off to his house, not in the elevator, not until you walk in. “Come on, I think we need to talk.”
You sit on the sofa with your legs under you and Charles also sits down facing you.
“I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago.” Charles starts, your heart beats faster in your chest as your eyes meet and you both don't look away. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”
“Because my father said if I don't he’ll cut us all off, he'll make sure none of us ever find work again, and my brothers, they have families and children, I couldn't let him do that to them.” you tell him and push your hair back. “I was happy the last couple of years in Italy and then he just dropped the bomb on me, and… here we are.”
“Here we are.”
“Why did you agree to it?” You've had your theories at the start of this relationship, but as you've gotten to know Charles you realised how wrong you are.
“I know you've read all the articles about me, it's a long story but I've been with my girlfriend for almost five years when I found out she was cheating on me.- Charles said his voice soft, making you take his hand in yours and give him a squeeze. “I spiraled after that, other than racing which isn't going great, I was always drinking and sleeping around, it affected me her cheating more than I thought it'd ever way, it just shocked me and left me not knowing what to do, my reputation was going down and the sponsors were getting anxiety so your father told me if I don't agree to this I'd kiss my dream goodbye, no future in Formula 1, and I couldn't, it's been my dream and I promised my father I'd do everything I could to be world champion and..."
“You haven't made it yet.”
“No, not yet.” You smile before you laugh, Charles looks at you like you're crazy and you shake your head. “Sorry, it's just so messed up, this whole thing is just so messed up.”
”It is.” Charles chuckles and you sigh, this is all a bit too much. “But I’m glad it’s you.”
An involuntary smile makes its way to your face, you just melted, heart skipping a beat and butterflies in your stomach. the whole shebang.
“I’m happy it’s you too, Charlie.” Hearing you call him Charlie makes him smile, your gaze not straying from the other, basking in the moment, a moment you could ignore everything and everyone, a moment that’s just between you too. Maybe this whole arranged marriage thing will be okay in the end.
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Next day you both fly out in Charles’s private jet with his family and team, Lorenzo is still standoffish, but now that you know that he’s in on everything you don’t blame him. He’s not rude to you at all, but he’s cold, something that you attributed to how he was raised. Even though he knows his brother is forced into it, he hasn’t been rude after the first time you met, when he just found out the truth.
The plane landed in Milan where you live, but you went with the family to Monza for the race, promising to take Charles to your studio after the weekend.
The first two days, media and FP1-2, go like how all the other races go, this time you’ve met more drivers, you met Pierre and Kika are one of the ones you met and was found talking to. You and the model exchanged details and followed each other on Instagram, you all went out to have dinner after media day, and you and Kika sat together talking all the time, with Charles and Pierre sat on each side of you not understanding how two people who just met could have this much to talk about and how you talk about everything.
pierregasly posted to their story
caption[ I think i lose my girlfriend @/charles_leclerc]
Charles_leclerc reposted to his story
Caption [looks like it mate]
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Lorenzo was watching the both of you with hawk eyes, he felt like things have changed between the two of you or you’ve become better actors, because why does Charles have his hand on the back of your chair, why is your hands laced together a lot, why are you leaning into him, are do you have inside jokes and share those knowing looks. You’re having deep conversation, a closeness and ease that hasn’t been there before. So he takes the moment you went to Charles’s driver’s room to leave your bag there and took his brother to the side.
”What’s going on with you and y/n?” Enzo asked Charles, his brows furrowing.
”What are you talking about?” Charles asked, his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding, he’s been denying his growing feelings for you, but it seemed like his brother picked up on it. “We’re just trying to make the best of a�� difficult situation.”
Lorenzo wasn’t convinced he knew Charles, he knows there’s more to it.
“Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself, Charles.” Lorenzo said his tone leaving no space for argument. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you care about her, you like her, and I think she likes you too.”
For a moment Charles was silent, his mind racing with emotions and he’s thinking about the time you’ve come to share together and how he’s been enjoying it. he had spent so long denying his feelings for you, burying them down, he tried to tell himself that no he doesn’t find you the prettiest most beautiful woman he has ever met, he hates when you go on rants about the things you love, he hates that you’ve picked up on so many habits he has and have come to understand him, he hates how you’re passionate and warm and kind and soft and elegant, he hates it, he just hates it. But here he is standing in front of his brother, the walls that have been down for a while are just made apparent to him, he just realised them. He nods, and a smile slowly appears on his face.
”Yeah, I do, I do like her.” Charles says his eyes are not meeting his brother’s as he’s lost in thought, his brows move slightly together and then he’s shaking his head no. “No, actually I love her.”
Lorenzo’s expression softened at his brother’s admission, a sense of understanding coming over him. “Then just embrace it, and let her know.”
”I just wish we met under different circumstances.” Charles confessed, his voice tinged with regret. “But either way, I’m just glad that fate brought y/n into my life.”
And as they stood there in the hustle and bustle of the garage, Charles knew that he’s ready, he’s ready to tell you what he feels and maybe start dating for real this time, have a samples of normality in your relationship before you get married.
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After Sunday, Charles’s family flies back to Monaco and the Ferrari driver comes with you to Milan.
“Promise me you won’t judge.” You say to Charles after you turn to look at him, your studio’s key is already in the door waiting for you to twist it.
”I promise, mon amour.” Charles says and your face lights up at his pet name, you couch and turn to face the door.
”Didn’t have to say that.” You mutter and feel your cheeks turn pink, you open the door and lead Charles in, the big windows let in so much light but you go and turn on the light as well. The studios was spacious with high ceiling, paintings where leaning on the wall, a couple were covered, there was pain stains on the ground on the walls, there was a small kitchen to the side and a bathroom, there’s a pull out sofa against one wall with a few chairs littering the place and table with wheels, a table with no wheels, drawers of supplies and easels. This place truly looked like an artist's dream, it was messy but organised, it was all you.
”Wow.” Charles says and walks to the wall that had paintings on it, you follow him, keeping your eyes on him as you take in every little reaction he has. “You’re so talented y/n.”
”Thank you.” You reply softly. “You can flip through the paintings if you want, I'll make us tea.”
Charles has seen a lot of your work on your instagram and you’ve shown him a lot but seeing them in real life he realised they weren’t given justice with the photos, there’s so much detail in the work you’ve done, each brush stroke pressed with intention. Charles moved to the two covered ones, they were on the big size, his curiosity got the best of him and he pulled the fabric down.
”Wait Charles-“ It was too late, he saw them, his mouth hanging open as he stared at… himself.
“That’s-that’s me.” You sigh feeling embarrassed, your face turning red.
”Yeah.” You mumble and cough.
”Fucking hell, mon amour.” Charles turns to look at you and you’re looking away refusing to look in his direction, his eyes soften at your embarrassment. Charles walks up to you and you’re refusing to look at him, so gently cups your cheeks and your eyes meet his, getting lost in the shades of blue and green in his eyes. the shades you know from memory, the colours you painted and brought to life on your canvas. Charle’s breath gets caught in his throat, the words he was planning to say slipping from his mind, so he just presses his lips to yours, you gasp a little before following his lead, your hands clutching his shirt. It’s a moment of vulnerability, the product of simmering feelings that bubbled to reach the surface. your kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment, as you’re trying to pour all your pent-up feeling, emotions and desires into this single electrifying moment. You move closer, your bodies pressed together, holding to each other’s curves, the intensity bordering on desperation.
When you broke apart, gasping for breath Charles’s hands are still cupping your face, his eyes ablaze with fire that threatened to consume you both.
”I love you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice raw with emotion, your heart swelled with joy at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reaches up to caress his cheek.
“And I love you Charles, with everything that I am.”
With a shared understanding and longing and love you sealed the moment with another searing kiss, letting together us a oissionate embrace that seemed to stretch on forever. In that moment, amidst the quietness of the studio, you were no longer bound by a contract, but by the pure and unadulterated love for each other. In each other’s arms you’ve found the only solace and sanctuary you’ve ever needed or wanted.
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It’s not to say that everything turned out to be what you wanted, in a couple months and while Charles was on his winter break your wedding was set. There was no talking your father out of it, but you weren’t dreading the moment anymore. You know that fate was going to bring you together in the end, one way or the other. Yes you’d still be dating, but in the end you’d get engaged and then married. Speaking of engaged, Charles did propose to you, it was a private event, only the two of you on his yacht away from prying eyes, with soft music playing in the background. The monegasque got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Ignoring the fact that you’re bound by a contact you agreed instantly, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face.
But here you are now standing across from Charles, your eyes locked in a silent exchange if understanding, the weight of their circumstances hung heavy in the air. The officiant, cleared his throat and said his words singling to you to start your vows.
Charles took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he spoke his voice steady yet laced with emotions.
”y/n, I know that our beginning is not the one we would’ve liked for each other, but I’m glad that it did. But I know that fate has intertwined our future together, one way or the other I would’ve made my way to you. In you, I have found a companion, a confidante and a source of strength. I vow to stand by your side through everything that may come our way, to support you, to cherish you and to love you with all that I am, for as long as we live.”
Your heart swelled with emotion as you listened to Charles’ words, your eyes shining with unshed tears. You took a moment to compose yourself before speaking your voice soft but unwavering.
“Charles, Charlie.” You begin and your voice starts to tremble with emotion the more you speak. “When we first met I never imagined that our paths would be so intertwined, that I’d reach a point where I can’t imagine living without you. In you I have found a partner in crime, in life. You’ve showed me so much love that I never experienced before and for that I’ll be always grateful, I vow to stand by your side to be on your team, to lift you up when you falter, to love you unconditionally and with every fibre of my being.”
In that moment, those who doubted you, those that thought they won, those that wished your relationship would end, all knew that as you shared your first kiss as husband and wife, that you’re a team, a family, and that nothing can bring you down. You made each other stronger, you made each other happy, and you had your whole futures in front of you to heal all the wounds you had in the past, you’ll both grow and heal and live together.
Your journey is far from over, there’s so much that you’ll face. But you’ll face it together in each other’s arms, where you felt the purest kind of happiness.
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles x reader#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc#charles xreader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#charles leclerc fic#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot
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Stay in your lane
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader
Inspired by the song ‘Stay In Your Lane’ by Bronson Diamond and Greta Stanley
Summary: Jake finally realises it’s time to settle down when this mission could become fatal, especially when he sets eyes on the woman he knows is destined to be his future wife - but with his ‘Hangman womaniser’ reputation floating around Top Gun, it won’t be that easy.
Jake had seen you at the bar for a few weekends running now. And each weekend he had drunk enough Dutch courage yet never actually managed to speak to you. He’d first seen you the evening he was first reinstated at Top Gun for the uranium-plant ‘suicide mission’ and with this evening being the penultimate one before Maverick would construct his final flight crew; he’d decided now was a better time than ever. He’d die a happy man knowing he’d at least taken the jump with you.
He was enamoured; whipped the moment he’d first laid eyes on you. The moment all his ‘fuck-boy’ antics and aspirations melted before him and some homeliness grew. He’d always been teased for his charming bed-side manner: before sneaking out the morning after, not forgetting to delete his number from the poor girl’s phone then dashing out the door with another mark to his name and a victorious smirk on his lips.
But recently he’d been sick of the reputation he’d grown to be so proud of, almost embarrassed by his own name and face - he wasn’t blind to the two strands of grey hair that appeared behind his left ear, he wasn’t getting any younger. He didn’t want to be the unmarried sailor who had too much fun as a bachelor in his earlier years and never settled down. Jake didn’t like the idea of dying alone.
Especially not now this mission was looming ever closer.
You’d walked into the bar just before Rooster began serenading the piano, when Hangman was teasing the ‘old timer’, soon to be instructor and throwing him out of the bar for being unable to pay for the tab the aviators and civilians had accumulated for him as a consequence of his phone being on the table top. Jake had turned and winked at you when he’d ordered another beer on Maverick, one for you too for which you just rolled your eyes, unimpressed. Needless the say for once that actually bruised Hangman’s indestructible ego. Normally he wouldn’t have batted an eye when being rejected by a girl at a bar; simply moving onto his next endeavour to take some gullible girl home by the end of the night.
But you didn’t seem like that kind of girl: you seemed like a lady - a woman. And your rejection wounded him more than any bullet or stab any could.
And now you were here for the third weekend running and he was ready to finally try ask you out, especially before he got too drunk too - already racking up his eighth beer and fifth whiskey, even chancing some of the sailor’s rum sitting in the glass cabinet with all the expensive liquor. “Man, just go.” Javy said, elbowing Hangman deep enough to wind him slightly. “What if she rejects me?” Javy laughed. “Jake ‘womaniser’ Seresin is worried about being rejected?” But his chortle died down when he saw the serious conflicting expression on his fellow aviator’s face. Javy thought for a moment before walking over to Rooster and concocting a plan with him. “Hangman won’t talk to lady?” The sunglasses-clad man laughed. “Funny.” Javy shook his head. “No man I’m serious. Look at him.” They both looked across the bar to the man looking helplessly at the newly familiar girl chatting with Penny with a comfortable grin on her face.
“Damn if Hangman doesn’t want her I’ll have her.” Rooster commented, pulling his sunglasses to the end of his nose to look at you properly and whistling lowly. Javy slapped his chest, having a lightbulb moment “I’ve got it. You go and tell him that.” Rooster raised a brow waiting for him to elaborate. “Go over there, tell him you’re gonna go chat her up and watch how fast he moves.” Rooster smirked, loving the fact he was being offered the opportunity to wind up Hangman. “Next rounds on you.” He told Javy, hitting him on the back as he strutted over to the lovesick man by the pool table.
Rooster mirrored his actions from a few moments prior, eyeing you like a tall glass of water after days stranded in the heat-infested desert. He whistled, gaining Hangman’s attention, forcing him to drag his attention away from you. “Who’s the honey at the bar? She is mighty fine.” Rooster commented, biting his lip slightly. “Found my mission for tonight, wish me lucky.” He patted Hangman’s shoulder, who was getting progressively more aggravated by Rooster’s comments - not even noticing how tight his grip was on his beer before it was slammed on the table and he raced past Rooster. “Back off, porn-tash.” He grumbled and the tanned man smirked, his job was done.
Jake marched straight over to you and leant against the bar beside you, ordering another beer off of Penny and requesting she get you another of whatever you were drinking, turning to smirk at you gently. You looked at him, unimpressed but with a small smile on your lips. “Evening darlin’” Jake nodded at you, trying to make his charms work one last time. “Evening.” You replied, thanking Penny for your new drink, and him too. “Thanks for the drink, but I can pay for myself.” You say, not trusting the khaki uniforms regardless of what the face wearing them told you.
“And I don’t doubt that, allow me to apologise for treating the gorgeous lady at the bar.” He says jokingly, taking a seat beside you. “What’s your name darlin’” you laugh slightly and tell him. “And what’s yours?” You retort. “Jake. But my coworkers call me Hangman.” He told you, trying to woo you with his Naval charm. “Hangman? What, did you lose a game? Not enough consonants?” He laughed at you. Normally now he’d made a joke about him being ‘hung’ in more ways than one but he stopped himself, wanting to impress you/ not seduce you.
He continued to attempt make small talk with you throughout the evening, you hardly entertaining his antics. “Look, Hangman” you say straight, after your third drink, compliment of him of course. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if your goal is to get me in your bed by the end of the night, you’ve got another think coming. You have a reputation around this base and I don’t intend on becoming another one of your one-nighters.” You throw back the rest of your drink. “So thank you for the drinks, but this ends here.” You say, about to stand up before a rough yet gentle touch reached out to keep you sat, prompting a frustrating and challenging look in return.
“I’ve been shot and I’ve been stabbed but I’ve never been so madly in love as I am with you.” He said all of a sudden, causing you to sit right back down in your seat; shock overcoming you. “Excuse me?” You say, almost thinking you hadn’t heard this infamous aviator you’d only known for the past two hours admitting his adoration for you. “Look I that my reputation proceeds me, but seeing you for the first time three weeks ago made me realise somethin’, darlin” he licked his lips in nerves, gathering his thoughts: prepared to admit to you. You cocked your head to one side, almost unable to speak “I know we just met, but if I had to bet I´d say you feel the same way too”
“Cause I’ve realised that when I first looked at you, in that gorgeous dress with that bright smile, self-sufficient and head strong I knew I’d have to drop my ridiculous play-boy persona sometime soon. Especially if I wanna settle down with a mighty-fine gal such as yourself.” He admits, looking down nervously and swallowing - adam’s apple bobbing as you question his intentions and think that he may be more gentle than his reputation had told you.
Suddenly The Righteous Brothers’ infamous song amongst Miramar pilots began playing; You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ and Hangman smirks and an idea develops within his mind. He stands and offers a hand to you “dance with me, please?” You give a small smile, allowing your heart to lead instead of your preemptive mind familiar with his kind and laced your hand in his, standing and smoothing your dress which he found incredible endearing.
He began swaying back and forth, talking so loud you could barely hear the band. As he sung along to the sound, keeping his hands respectively on your hips and eyes never straying away from your own. When the song had finished he necked the rest of his beer, drinkin´so fast you were surprised he could even stand. Even trying to be endearing; making a fool of himself dancing just to hear you laugh, dancin´ like a crab running over the stinkin´ hot sand.
Eventually you both moved to the cracked-open door adjacent to the beach, sitting on the deck as he eyed the hand closest to him, but you were still hesitant - the infamous ‘Hangman’ reputation weighing heavy in your mind. His pinky inching towards your own and you chuckle gently, shaking your head “and I was hopin’-” you cut him off “you were dreamin´ if you thought you were gonna be holdin´ my hand” you inform him.
“Later Hangman!” You both hear and turn to see the rest of the dagger squad making their way out of the bar, Nat winking at you unbeknownst to Jake and you requite her gesture. “Later!” He waves them off. He stands and struts to the bar, taking you with him to jot his details on a napkin “here is my number, call me when you get home” he slides it to you, to which you reverse his action, pushing it back to him “that number ain’t no good to me, ´cus I don’t own a telephone” you shrug, but he knew it was in your jacket pocket.
“Well then,” he scribbles again “here is my address, write to me if you could” he suggests and you shrug “well, I never finished school, my writin´ just ain’t no good” he grits his jaw slightly “the way you carry yourself tells me otherwise, ma’am.” he says and you smirk, leaning closer to whisper in his ear “that’s doctor to you, Jake.” He shivers at the way you say the name he’s been used to hearing since birth. But hearing you say it was so raw: so true. So right.
He raises a brow “Doctor? News to me” “y’never asked.” You say gently. “Final call! Another round or get your asses safely home ladies and gents!” Penny announces in a holler from her position behind the bar, to the final few stragglers at the Hard Deck; including yourself and Jake.
He opens the door for you; winking as you feign flattery and naming him a gentleman, you both thanking Penny for the evening and leaving to your respected vehicles. “Now the bar’s are closin´, and we’re leavin´ at the same time” he comments, entwining your hand with his which you begrudgingly feel absentmindedly closing around his, also. You shake your head and look up to him “So stay in your lane, boy and I’ll stay in mine” you say and his eyes sadden slightly, reaching your car and you lean against it, welcoming him trapping you against the driver’s-side door “Ive been shot and I’ve been stabbed, but I’ve never been so sad knowing I’ll never see you again” he says, pulling your hand up to kiss each knuckle, not allowing himself to disrupt eye-contact; fearing that as quick as you came into his sights, you’d be gone.
You smile, using your free hand to caress his cheek slightly; him leaning into your soft touch. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’m at this bar every damn weekend” you say matter-of-factly, leaning to kiss his cheek before pulling away and climbing into your car. “Goodnight, Hangman.” And you reverse away, a pang in his heart until he felt for his phone in the back pocket of his summer whites, a small strip of paper falling out alongside it. He picks the unknown scribe from the gravel and inspect it - your phone number written in a neat hand and he grins - maybe his bedside manner was improving.
And that mission crept up on the daggers quicker than they’d ever hoped and Hangman found himself antsy in his cockpit, about to take off to go save his instructor and career-long buddy: not that either of them would ever admit their comradeship. He closed his eyes and pictured your tired face that gleamed back at him at the twilight hour he’d last saw you, knowing you were the reason he’d return from this final task - listening to the air traffic control counting down until his take-off.
Before he’d realised, he’d acquired another air-to-air confirmed kill under his belt of a fifth-generation fighter and was headed back to base to celebrate. “Well done aviators, helicopter paramedics Reaper and Sunny are waiting on deck to check you all over.” The voice instructs over comms. “Reaper? Why’d they call ‘em that?” Hangman asks with a chuckle and the voice was dormant for a few seconds. “We usually send her when we think there’s gonna be dead needing reviving.” And soon the callsign wasn’t a joke and they realised the higher-ups were more prepared for this suicide mission than the pilots were.
Hangman climbed out of his aircraft and shook hands with Rooster, all just happy to be safe back on deck after a successful mission. “Lieutenant Seresin!” One of the engineers called “you’ve been instructed to go be checked over by Reaper.” Jake nods and walks through the crowd giving him pats on the back, to the helicopter. “Reaper? I’ve been told to be assessed.” The paramedic pivoted to face him and his facade dropped, as you stood before him in your pilot get-up and medical equipment strung onto your shoulder.
You sighed heavily “thank god you’re okay” you say and he wordlessly approaches you and dips you in a long-awaited kiss “please give me a chance, don’t make me stay in my lane, princess”
“Wouldn’t think of it, cowboy”
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