Tumgik
#i just love his snarl okay
tojisun · 1 month
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still on that "simon teaching you how to shotgun while you're riding him lazily" shit and will always be on that shit!!
•°. *࿐
he pinches your chin, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the smooth of your skin. “breathe it in slowly—it will burn, especially ‘cause this is y’r first time—so tap when s’too much, okay?”
“okay,” you hum, eyes fluttering slowly at the gentle touch, a caress you know that is meant to be beckoning.
simon shifts the two of you on his seat, shuffling carefully, but the slight movement still makes you gasp, a sputtering of your breath, as muted please races through you at the deeper press of his cock.
he croons at your reaction, eyes crinkling as he murmurs praises and ‘i love you’s, his voice so full of adoration. it makes your heart clench, lips wobbling at the softness of it all—
simon is not a good man. he said this to you the first time you begged him to take you to his place.
(“please,” you whimpered then, too overwhelmed with your lust to notice the way he was straining against his self-control. “i need you.”
your voice broke, a sad tinge curling in your words, and you wonder if it was that which finally pushed simon to the edge. if it was the desperation he could see burning in your eyes and rippling into the way you held him—loose fists bunching up his shirt—that finally made him buckle.
“i’m not the man that you think i am, sweetheart,” he spat out, his voice weaving between his teeth in a barely-contained snarl. “y’re too good f’r me.”
“i don’t care,” you murmured, stepping closer into him, devouring even the minuscule space between you two because simon needed to know. he needed to understand that there is no one else you yearn for but him—
“goddamn it.”
his snarl was followed by the way his teeth sank into your skin, marking, tugging.
yes! you thought with giddiness, a sharp gasp getting torn from the base of your throat. yes!yes!yes!)
simon is not a good man, but he kisses you like one. he cares for you like one. he loves you like one.
simon is not a good man, but did he need to be? he was yours. was that not enough?
you rut your hips in slow circles, quiet rasps of your gasps filling up the space. you watch with hooded eyes as simon lights his cigarette, before you lean forward to snuff the fire off his lighter. your eyes meet his above the wafting smoke, desire mutual as it drips into each other’s laps.
sweat beads on your forehead, sliding down your temple.
you brace yourself on your knees, mewling as you feel the base of his cock sliding out from the grips of your wet walls, before slowly sinking back down to engulf the thickness of it. his cock digs deep again, settling somewhere that makes you feel so full—you swear your organs shift to make room for him—and it is in the midst of your stuttered whimpers that simon takes a drag of his cigarette, slow and deep.
you become so hyperaware all of a sudden, watching as his chest expands with every inhale. then, he takes the stick out, and he turns to you with pursed lips. simon cups your cheek once again, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye.
anticipation courses through you as you pitch forward, willing your shaking body to sit still. you see the muted spark of the cigarette in your peripheral as you go—a temptress in its own right—until you feel the scruff of his unshaven chin tickling your own.
you didn’t realize how much your lips are trembling until you feel the steady press of simon’s against yours. he gives you soft pecks, reassuring kisses, and then he’s breathing out the smoke into your willing mouth.
you breathe it in slowly, feeling the burn on your tongue slither to your throat until it fills up your lungs. it feels like a thick miasma is being poured down your trachea, choking you with the tendrils of its fiery fog, and you cough, ripping your lips from simon’s.
“shh, shh,” he murmurs, quick to comfort you, his hand steady on the base of your head. “y’did great, sweetheart. y’did great.”
you can’t hear him, ears ringing as the heat spreads within you.
it is so foreign, dangerous, yet it is so, so sensual—
a metaphor for simon.
suddenly, sharp pleasure curls in the pit of your stomach, batting away the burn, and you keen, drawn out and high-pitched, before tipping your head down, needing to watch the way simon circles his thumb on your clit.
he’s let go of his cigarette—
“sim-onnn,” you hiccup, heart thudding with your disappointment. “wan’ more.”
he chuckles, the sound of it so fond.
so proud.
“look at you,” he croons. “it hurt you an’ yet you want more.”
his hand slides down from the base of your head to trace the plane of your spine before settling atop your ass where he grabs a fistful of your flesh. you groan, feeling truly edged out—the lapping euphoria you feel from the slow caress on your clit is not enough, and the thrill of breathing in simon’s sin having been cut short.
any more teasing and frustrated tears will trickle from the corners of your eyes.
simon catches your pout, and he grins, one that is a bite too mean.
“so needy,” he says, sighing dramatically, before he reaches for the stick and pinches it between his lips.
it makes you squirm, excited, your mouth already open—
needy, just like he said.
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messylustt · 10 months
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Ok I absolutely love the way you write-
Imagine you decide to go back to school but like online classes and Miguel would have you cock warming him. And immediately after you hit that ‘end zoom’ or ‘leave classroom video’ he’s absolutely plowing into you like a animal in heat-
distracted in class — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). i cant do this anymore — thank you so much, my loveee.
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your lips are pressed tightly together, as you pretend to nod along to what the teacher is saying. something about the economy? you aren’t sure because all you can focus on is miguel’s cock buried deep inside you. your breathing is stuttering as you try not to move your hips. god, you just wanted to move. either up and down or completely off. because cock warming him like this was too much for your poor brain to train into the lesson on your computer.
you were on miguel’s thighs, the angle of the computer cutting him off, so all appeared innocent. miguel’s mouth was twitching in a snarl to move, because god did he want to just fuck you silly. your warm little hole kept clenching around him, making his grip on your hips tighten to the point of claw marks. “come on…cariño…let me move…i need to fucking move.” his low desperate tone was right by your ear.
“i — i have to focus.” you blink a few times too many, praying the teacher won’t ask you a question. “i cant…dios…i cant.” miguel’s hips had begun to try and move up into you. but with your weight atop of him you managed to not reciprocate. “i need to fuck you, y/n.” then finally you can see the lesson wrapping up, as other collage students dropped off the line. and as your hand shifted to tap the ‘end call’ button, miguel’s grip tightened.
“stay fucking still now...” miguel growled out as he thrusted up into your dripping cunt, making a small mewl escape you.
“yeah…that’s it…gonna fuck this pretty little hole that you’ve kept me from feeling…sliding up and down my cock—carajo.” his thrusts are animalistic and feverish, as groans leave him, his hands spreading your thighs further apart as his claws dig into your flesh. his hips movements are making you slightly bounce up and down on his dick.
“you have no idea what that just did to me…” his words are harsh, as he kept you at his mercy. “hours…of being in your pussy and I couldn’t even move…that’s not gonna happen again.” obscene sounds are filling the room, as your hips meet his — still on his lap. his teeth are by your ear as he nips at the skin. “no…next time if I want to be inside you — moving — i will be…and I don’t care if you need to focus, cariño…you just gotta be good and let me move you along my cock…”
“it’s study…i…i have to pay attention.” you manage as your legs shake. “that’s okay…” he coos. “you can be my dumb little slut…actually I’d like that…” he’s breathing harder as his cock twitches. “you can stay my dumb little pet, whose pretty head is filled with me and only me as you let me feel this hole for as long…as I please.”
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 16 days
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ring pop proposal ♡
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fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.
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the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.
soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as you’re parents agree.
you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.
“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.
mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.
she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.
he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.
you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.
“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.
“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”
“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.
katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.
“gave her one of these !”
“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”
katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.
“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.
she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.
she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.
mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.
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whateveriwant · 5 months
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I just read your pregnant wife with 141 but that got me thinking. What about horny pregnant wife with 141
Feel free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing it 
-🍱 (if it’s not taken)
I haven't written smut in ages so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 18+ only pls and thx (vaginal sex, cunnilingus)
Soap
Hooo boy! Alrighty, here we go
So for starters, that man is PENT UP. Like seriously, he's so backed up, he thinks he can feel it all the way to his esophagus
Since you first got pregnant, it's been nothing but morning sickness, aches and pains, and a total and utter lack of desire on your part
Trust him, he's tried taking care of himself in the meantime, but it's never really gotten the job done since it wasn't with you
But once you enter your second trimester and the desire has come back, it takes everything in him not to ravage you the moment you give him the green light
Why? Well, truth be told, he's scared about potentially hurting you or the baby
You know how he can get in the sack. What if he dents the wee bairn’s poor head? He's knocking (more like pounding) right on the little one’s door after all
You have to assure him that he's not going to hurt you or the baby (and please, never refer to your cervix as a door again)
So he'll start slow and gentle at first, not wanting to be too harsh, but it won't take much to get him back to fucking you hard and rough like you're used to
He's got your knees up by your chest (or, as close as they can get) while he’s drilling into you from above, snarling like an animal
When he finally finishes, it's loudddd, slamming the headboard against the wall, and he pushes his hips as far forward as they'll go while he empties four months worth of cum inside you
Ghost
I'm so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but you're not getting that man's cock while you're pregnant
It's not because he's overly rough when you make love normally; it's just that he's not willing to take any chances when you're in such a delicate state
However, the man is inherently a giver, so with just enough whining and begging and pleading from you, he'll oblige you to some degree
He'll stick mostly to his fingers or his mouth, maybe a toy or two if you're really needy, but he's generally going to rely solely on his own skill to get you where you want to be
He'll have you recline against a mountain of pillows while he settles himself between your legs, his arms looping around your hips to hold you still for him while he works
But he doesn't just dive right in, oh no siree. The man loves to tease you – kissing your thighs, the inside of your knee, the bottom of your belly first
He'll turn you into a pathetic little thing squirming desperately for his touch, before finally granting you mercy by giving you his tongue
He'll make you cum so hard with just his mouth alone that you'll temporarily lose all thought of that gorgeous dick of his
But afterwards, if you want to return the favor, you certainly won't hear him complaining about it
Oh but trust that the moment the doctor gives the okay after you’ve given birth, he's gonna be all over you, making sure you walk funny the next morning (and the following week after that)
Gaz
Like the other two, Gaz is concerned with potentially putting you and the baby in a dangerous position
But the man is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, so it doesn't take much convincing to get him to take you to bed
But he still wants to be safe about it, so he researches the best positions for couples to have sex while pregnant
That's how you find yourself in his lap, naked back to his chest, as he sits in one of the chairs he dragged in from the dining room
You're bouncing on his dick, hands braced on his thighs, ass smacking off the hard plane of his lower stomach as you lift up and down
His hands on your hips are more of a placeholder than a guide as he lets you set the pace, just sitting back while you take what you need from him
It doesn't even matter if he cums or not, that's honestly the farthest thing from his mind. All he cares about is making sure you're satisfied in the end
Need him to snake his hand forward, tracing the curve of your belly down, until he's circling your clit in fast, tight motions? Gladly, love.
Your thighs may burn and your eyes may water, but there's something about this position that makes him hit so deep that it leaves you gasping for more
Ultimately, your orgasm will trigger his own (nothing gets him there faster than the sound of you cumming), and afterwards he'll help you into the bath where he'll clean and massage your aching muscles better
Price
Unlike the other three men, Price is eager to fuck you the moment you show even the smallest inkling of want
What's that? His poor baby needs him to fuck her right now? Say no more, sweetheart. Hubby's come to the rescue
That man is dicking you down anytime, anywhere he can
Just got done shopping? He'll find a deserted road to pull over on. Just stepped into the shower? Might as well kills two birds with one stone
Really, it becomes a challenge to find where in your house he hasn't had you in these last few months. The kitchen, the garage, the back porch. You name it, he's done it (multiple times, in fact)
But his favorite – oh boy, his favorite without a shadow of a doubt – is when he takes you in front of your bedroom’s full length mirror
He'll hold you up from behind, standing you both on your feet, and just watch as he fucks you nice and slow
Seeing it in profile is fun when he wants to watch his dick slide in and out of you, but he's especially fond of having you directly face the mirror
There's just something about getting to watch you – that pretty face, those juicy tits, that fucking delectable rounded belly – that makes him blow his load faster than a damn rocket launch
With the number of times he's had you like this, you swear, that man of yours is trying to knock you up a second time (But shhhh. Quiet now. Don't go giving him any bright ideas, sweetheart.)
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werecreature-addicted · 5 months
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okay so what about a werewolf that struggles with cumming too fast, or at least what he considers to be ‘too fast’, and being extremely embarrassed and ashamed of it. He just cant help chasing his release once he's inside you. the look on his face of him trying to hold himself back, and that look of ‘fuckk not this again’ when he’s about to cum
reader trying to comfort him afterwards, not revealing that she's secretly reviling in the fact that he’s so desperately turned on by her that he can’t control himself. When he’s trying hard to hold back, she tries to force him over the edge. Like when he needs to take a minute break to stop himself from cumming, she does kegals when he’s still inside and him, making him cum against his will and being extremely embarrassed about it
"I-I'm sorry," your werewolf lover whimpers, his breath still ragged from his orgasm. his cock throbs inside of you as he unloads himself into your vice-like cunt. his knot twitching with needs as it swells, trapping your inside. Werewolves were supposed to have inhuman stamina, but he's lucky if he can last a few minutes inside your pussy.
It's not his fault, the second he pushes the head of his dick into your wet heat he just goes brain-dead. He's not even thinking, his body moves on his own slamming his hips against yours over and over again until he cums, which, again, is usually pretty quick. God help him if you ever try cock warming. He slides inside of you in one motion and not a second later he's babbling about how he can't actually do it, he needs to fuck you and can't just sit there.
"I'll make it up to you I promise- the second my knot goes down-" he doesn't know what he'll do, let you ride his face maybe, if he can't make you cum on his dick he can at least make you cum on his tongue.
"It's fine baby," you say. You'd never admit it, but you love how rough he fucks you, and how he's practically cumming before he's even bottomed out. it's so sexy what you can do to him. You hope that he's telling the truth when he says he's never had this problem before, you hope that your pussy is so good he can't help but cum quick.
It's so hot watching his brain turn off the moment you get his dick out of his pants. He really does fuck you like an animal, just hard and rough until he's shooting ropes inside of you. Maybe it's a bit sadistic, but you like how whiney and pathetic he gets when his head clears and he realizes you didn't get to cum.
"I can cum just like this," You reach down and start toying with your clit, reflexively your walls tightening around the cock half-hard cock still inside of you. His body goes rigid like he just got struck with lightning.
"fuck- don't do that, fucking brat," he snarls, but his growls quickly turn into soft whimpers as you keep flexing around him, your pussy sucking him deeper, if that was even possible.
"gonna cum again, f-fuck I'm going to give you all my cum, I've got so much for you," he whines
"oh no you don't, you don't get to cum twice before I've even finished once. hold it for me, maybe this will help improve your stamina," you snap back, you hold him by the back of his neck and make him look you in the eyes as you cum around his cock. He barely manages to hold on, the second he feels you flutter around him he's spilling a second load of semen into your sweet messy pussy, strings of cum leaking out the edge of his flared knot. he collapses on top of you, blurring his face in the crook of your neck.
"w-was I a good boy?" he asks, speaking directly into your skin,
"very good boy," you assure.
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scoutswritingcorner · 2 months
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Hello lovely ~ gonna request what we were talking about~
Alastors antlers shedding♡ literally? Anything you wanna say about it
Shedding Season
Alastor x GN!Reader
TW: Antlers being Shed, Alastor being clingy. 18+ as it does mention Alastor having a rut. Nothing graphic I promise
A/N:This is my take on how he would deal with his antlers shed and how he deals with his rut.
Alastor finds himself needing help with shedding his antlers. You decide to help him out
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It started off fine for Alastor, at first it was more of an urge to stay near his lover, you, it didn’t really bother him as he was a busy man and had things to take care of but it got worse after a day or two. The urge to stay in your vicinity got worse as he got even more agitated than before if he strayed away from you or Satan forbid Lucifer or Husker got too close to you. Then it was the constant motion of him rubbing his face into your neck or shoulder when no one was around, you didn’t seem to mind one bit but it agitated him to no end. But the feeling went away once you carefully ran your fingers through his hair, brushing near his antlers and ever so carefully scratching which caused him to pull you closer to him. 
Then it was how his body was reacting, how he couldn’t even wear his own coat anymore. It was like every article of clothing was suffocating him and how he hated it so. The best course of action he thought of was hiding in his room away from prying eyes and ears as he snarled out rubbing his horns on one of the many trees in the bayou in his bedroom. He didn’t need you to see how pathetic he looked and felt, his sweet doe would never look at him the same if they saw him like this. He was sure of it. Despite being in his own room, the wind of the familiar bayou felt on his warm body wasn't enough for him. It wasn’t until he heard a knock on his bedroom door that sent his ears turning to the sound and his head snapping up in anger.
“Alastor? Darling?” You called out from the other side of his bedroom door, his heart pounded before he willed his way towards the door ignoring the pain his antlers were giving him. He shakily gripped the doorknob before opening it only a bit. “Yes, Dear?” He asked softly trying to keep his anger at bay as his chest heaved with every heavy breath. You softly smiled at him, “May I come in?” You asked, holding onto the door frame leaning closer to him.
He weighed the options for a moment before eventually allowing you into his room, finally noticing the small basket in your hands, he tilted his head confused. Closing the door behind you he watched as you sat on his chair and waved him over, “Come here you silly deer.” You teased, causing him to huff but he followed your directions as much as he wanted to argue, he knew better. Especially at this moment. You held out your hands to him, the basket on the side of the chair, he slowly held your hands as you pulled him to sit on the ground in between your legs, his back towards the chair. 
“Need a drink or something to snack on, Love?” You asked him as he shook his head silently, he was rarely ever silent. You reached up and gently rubbed his shoulders noticing how warm his skin felt. “You’re rut is around the corner isn’t it?” He froze at the mention of his rut as his hand reached up to rub at his face. “Yes..I do believe it’s that time of year again, Cher.” He replied the radio static filter from his voice was gone as he let out a deep heavy sigh. 
You reached down and grabbed a cold water bottle to hand to him. “Drink up, Al..I’m gonna try and help you get this velvet off your antlers okay?” You whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his head. Alastor could only nod and mumble out a warning but you’ve been through this rodeo with him before. You reached down to get the tools from the basket as well as some of his favorite snacks that you got from Rosie earlier today. “They might shed as well, Al..just let it happen okay?” You carefully brushed back his hair seeing as a few strands stuck to his head that was covered in sweat. He could only reply with a hum leaning his head back against you. You were gonna have to get him a cold rag soon as well.
As you began to slowly and carefully help get the velvet off of his antlers he let out a low groan closing his eyes as sweat covered his face and neck. “Want me to go get you a cold rag, Darlin?” You asked softly tilting his head back carefully watching as he opened his eyes, his everlasting smile had dropped a while ago. “No..not yet..” He whispered out, you went back to silently helping him knowing how overwhelmed he gets during these times. 
It was only after you had gotten all of the velvet off of his antlers that something hit the floor with a soft thud making Alastor jump nonetheless. You looked over after making sure you had everything put back up and noticed his two antlers had shed, making him grumble loudly as he leaned his head back into your stomach. “Come on, Al..let me go get a rag for your face and neck.” You whispered slowly getting up as he leaned forward watching you. “Take a sip of water and eat up, okay? I don’t need you dealing with your rut on an empty stomach.” He waved a hand towards you but did what you had asked of him.
The rest of the night was spent with him sitting between your legs as you carefully washed the sweat from his face and neck, whispering soft reassurances as he kept drifting in and out of sleep. Soft jazz playing in the background as his shadow carefully wrapped around your body.
He felt a million times better and he knew that the weeks of his rut would be over soon enough with you helping him with how uncomfortable it made him.
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melzula · 2 months
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hii i was wondering could you write a oneshot of how zuko's self cautious of his scar and reader just kisses his scar and reassures him and tells him that hes perfect and that she loves everything abt him. This is in a very like intimate and loving way ykyk
a/n: ah this plot is so sweet! had to rewrite this piece a few times before landing on something i liked so i hope you enjoy!
summary: zuko asks you to remove his bandages
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“Are you sure you want me to do this? I can fetch Iroh instead.”
“No,” comes Zuko’s soft reply, his sullen features bathed in candle light. “I want it to be you.”
Sighing softly, you give him an understanding nod and press a careful kiss to his check. The Prince remains stoic in spite of your show of affection, simply signaling for you to proceed.
It’s been a week since the Agni Kai, and the healer has given Zuko the okay to remove his bandages. The wound should be healed by now, nothing but a painless scar with a painful memory attached to it. It’s not only your first time seeing Zuko’s new face but his as well, and neither of you are sure what to expect.
You were honestly surprised when the Prince had asked for you to be the one to remove his bandages. He’d been cold and standoffish with you since your departure from the Fire Nation, something you couldn’t blame him for considering all he’d been through, but you didn’t expect him to trust you with something so important so soon. It made you nervous, but it also made you relieved to know he still felt he could trust you with such things.
Your fingers work carefully as you unravel the white cloth around his head, doing your best not to cause too much discomfort for your Prince. He says nothing as you move and only watches you through the reflection of the mirror before him.
“Are you ready?” You ask him softly, hesitating as you reach the final layer of wrapping.
“Hesitation is a sign of weakness,” Zuko replies gruffly, and that’s all you need to hear before finally pulling away the last of the bandages.
The room is silent and tense as Zuko stares at his own reflection. The skin around his eye is angry and red, permanently damaged and forever serving as a reminder of his failure. He can hardly see out of his left eye, but he’s still able to make out your figure watching on silently as he assesses the damage.
“Go ahead and say it.”
“Say what, Zuko?” You murmur softly, carefully resting a hand upon his back.
“Say you’re disgusted by me. Say you’re repulsed,” he snarls bitterly. “Say that you’re too embarrassed to be seen with such a failure!”
“Is that really what you think?” You utter sadly, a pained smile on your lips as you carefully reach out to touch his face. His hand immediately flies up to catch your wrist in a firm grip before you can get any closer, and despite the discomfort it brings you make no attempt to move.
“It’s what I know.”
“Then you must not know me at all,” you counter with a small shake of your head.
Reality sets in and Zuko guiltily removes his ironclad grip on your wrist. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh with you, but there’s an amalgamation of emotions festering within him at the sight of his deformity. He was a Prince, he wasn’t meant to look like this, he wasn’t meant to be out at sea fruitlessly trying to find the Avatar so he could end his banishment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“You’re perfect, Zuko,” you console with a careful brush of your fingertips against the freshly healed skin. His eyes flutter shut at the comforting sensation, and you take it as a sign to continue. “I love you the way you are, and this scar doesn’t change that.”
He can’t help but gasp when he feels the softness of your lips pressing against his temple. How could you not feel sickened by him? How could you still love him after everything?
“Your scar is nothing but a sign of your strength, I hope you know that,” you tell him before pressing another kiss to his cheek just below his eye.
He says nothing in response, but you know that he understands you. With you, he doesn’t have to feel shame or guilt. Your love for him knows no bounds, and there’s nothing he could do that would ever make you turn away from him.
He sits in silence as you begin to apply a soothing balm to his skin. His eyes close in contentment and for the first time since leaving home he finally feels at peace.
He knows then that he made the right choice in having you be the one to remove his bandages. No one sees him like you do, and it’s more than he could ever ask for.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
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emmyrosee · 1 year
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Kaminari watched with a quirked brow as you walked straight into the common room and plopped right down next to Bakugou, who opened his arm to allow you to curl into his side.
Sure, it amazed him that Bakugou even had the means to score a partner, let alone one would could just come in and plop next to him, interrupting whatever game he was playing on his switch, but…
Kaminari was moreso interested in whatever you two were doing than thinking about the other complexities of your relationship.
“What do you want?” Bakugou asks, his nose burying in your hair.
“Hngg.”
Bleach blonde eyebrows furrow in frustration, “you do realize it’s almost 10 pm, right? I’m not doing that.”
“Mmmnn!” You push your head against his shoulder, and he snarls at you.
“Don’t you ‘mmmnn’ me! It’s fuckin’ dark out.”
“Do you have any lick of a clue what the hell is going on?” Kaminari whispers, a hand covering his mouth in an attempt to keep his question between himself and Kirishima. Kirishima tips his head as he watches you and Bakugou… talk? to each other on the loveseat just feet away.
“Honestly man,” the redhead sighs, tipping his head in thought. “No idea.”
“You want Aizawa to kill me?” Bakugou mumbles, gently rubbing your arm with his thumb. “Dumbass. Because he will.”
“Hmph..”
“Yeah, I should’ve expected you to say that.”
“Say what?” Kaminari whispers, the pitch turning into a whine, gentle fingers tugging at Kirishima’s tee-shirt. Kirishima shrugs and continues to watch the… conversation.
“Come on,” Bakugou pleads, “can’t I just give you some of my chips? I’ll take ya to get some snacks tomorrow, I promise-“
“Mmmmnnnn…”
Bakugou groans and tips his head back, blinking up at the ceiling as if trying to work up some strength. “Hey, idiots,” he grumbles, making the two of his friends tense up in fear; Kaminari visibly trembles, he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, he just really wanted to know if you were okay-
“What time does that stupid convenience store close for the night?” The blonde asks, and Kirishima watches as your lips, peeking from Bakugou’s neck, curl up into a smile.
Kirishima shrugs, “I… think they’re 24 hours. Or at least open until real late. I think they stop making food at 1 am though.”
Bakugou groans. Kaminari sees you stifle your giggles, your fingers curling on his shirt. You grunt again, and Bakugou rolls his eyes.
“Fucking- fine.” He turns back to his friends with a snarled lip. “You dickheads want anything?”
“Uh…” Kaminari begins. “I’ll… take a strawberry juice, if you’re offering.”
“I’m not, but my insignificant other is.”
Kirishima chuckles, “I’ll take an egg roll. Thanks man.”
Bakugou gives a subtle nod and turns his head back down to you, “you’re coming with me-“
“Mmmnnnn…”
“Oh hell no!” He barks. “If I go down, you’re coming with me, you shitfuck!”
Once again, you laugh into his neck, and even if kaminari and kirishima don’t understand the dynamic, it feels good to see Bakugou smirk in your hair and nuzzle into you.
“Mmmuvyounnn.”
“Yeah yeah… love you, too, or something.”
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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 months
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A/n: Husk is fucking adorable...sidenote I wish this could have been better :/
Warnings: Knotting, bitting, marking, creampie.
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"Just stay away!" Husk snapped, he didn't mean to yell at you. The cat demon hated snapping at you since you were so special to him, he did care about you.
He loved you, he just didn't want to hurt you. He's never been with anyone when he went through his ruts. What if he ended up really hurting you? What if he scared you away?
He couldn't have that, so that's why he had to haul himself off in his room. He was doing this to protect you. Know matter how painful it might be on his end.
Leaning on your palm, you sighed drumming your fingers on the table. You missed Husk, you hated knowing that he pushed you away. "Am I an idiot? Shouldn't I be with him?"
Angel Dust titled his head to the side, his lips pulling into a grin. "I think ya should toot's. Go in and surprise him...trust me. He's not gonna be able to resist ya...make sure you shake those hips he likes so much too.
Straightening your body, you gave your friend a wide grin feeling more confidant. "I think I will." Slipping out of your seat you gave him on last nod. "Thank you." Then with that you were off, Angel Dust chuckling softly.
"Good luck toots."
Nibbling your lip, you knocked against the door. A deep grumble coming from the room. "Go away!"
Sighing, you slammed your fist against the door away. "Let me the fuck in Husk."
"You need to leave! I can't." You hear Husk rest his head against the door.
Frowning, you placed your hand on the door knob clutching it tightly. "Please Husk...I'm not going to leave you."
"Fine...I warned you." Husk grumbled as the door swung open.
The first thing you noticed were his hears flat on his head, wings wrapped tightly around his body. You can see his fur standing on end, tail twitching as Husk refused to look at you.
“You need to fucking leave before I....I-don’t want to” The demon was struggling, fangs digging into his lower lip, his nails into his palm.
Shaking your head you just gave the man a determined look, you came here for a reason, you came here to help your lover. Taking a step towards Husk, you placed your hand to make him look at you. He felt so warm, but his fur felt so soft.
“Let me help you.” Giving him a smile, Husk shifted his body as his gaze slowly met your own.
“I need to mate...I....fuck this shit is embarrassing...I don't want to hurt you."
Feeling like he swallowed hot coal he continued to speak. “You're so small”
Gritting his teeth he found that it was getting harder to him to talk, he didn’t like you so close but the man couldn’t deny by how good you smelt.
You hated this, Husk didn't talk much about this to you. You couldn't even imagine what your lover might be going through. Glancing down, let your head press into his. "It's okay Husk...I know you would never hurt me. So let me help you with this rut or whatever it is Husk. I am your lover, I do care about you. I hate seeing you in pain.”
Watching his adam's apple bob, Husk did his best to take in what you said. His wings slowly folding out. Grunting he tugged you close as his tail wrapped around your body as he lifted you off the ground.Eye's closing, he nuzzled his nose into your neck as his fangs gazed the skin. “I'm not gonna hold back now, your scent is intoxicating."
“I don’t want you to hold back, I want you to knot me Husk."
Grunting, Husk placed you on the bed, your skin growing warm. You looked up at your love through a heated gaze. Husk's chest rising and falling as his paw pinned you to the bed.
You could feel his arousal against your inner thigh, hot and heavy. A slow smile forming on your lips as you ran your fingers through his fur. A small purr rumbling through his chest as he rutted against you.
"Husk."
Hearing you say his name, the cat demon's eyes snapped opened. A small snarl escaping his lips as he tore at your clothes. A shiver running up your spine, you whimpered feeling a claw push past your folds. "So fucking wet for me."
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered grasping your wrists gently as he nuzzled into your neck again breathing in your scent. You smelled so good, it felt like a high. His tongue gliding across your neck to taste you, you tasted even better.
Sinking his fangs into your neck he was determined to leave a mark as he kept rutting against your thigh. Pulling away, he smirked seeing the red mark on your neck as his tail wrapped around an ankle forcing your legs open. "You ready for me?"
Your gaze fell to his pulsing shaft, your teeth sinking into his lip. "You sure that's gonna fit Husk...it's bigger than usual." You teased.
Letting out a scoff, Husk adverted his gaze as he slowly worked his cock. He hated feeling this nervous. You were his lover, you wanted this, wanted him. "I...it hurts then I'll stop." He muttered slowly pushing his members past your folds, a deep grumbled leaving his chest. Squeezing your legs around his hips, you could feel the wetness starting to coat his member.The feel pf his cock was making you light headed.
Trying his best to be gentle with you Husk slowly thrusted in deep in your warmth as he let out a deep grunt in your ear. Continuing to thrust deep into your pussy, Husk lent down letting his tongue glide across your nipple, his paw slowly massaging your breast as his wings involved your body.
His name spilled past your lips, you did your best to meet his frantic thrusts.
Husk biting back a snarl as he pulled away from your breast. A trail of saliva spillng past his lips as his tail tightened is grip around your ankle pulling you onto his cock as he then moved to your hips.
Your gaze taken in your lovers appearance, fangs poking last his lips. Ears flat on his head, you could feel the edge of his wings ticking your sides. 'He was so beautiful.'
Bending down, Husk nuzzled into your neck doing his best to mark you, everyone will know that you were his mate, that you belonged to him. Fangs out, he let one claw brush your clit, a shudder running through him feeling your pussy clench around his cock tightly, you were so wet, you felt so good. He could feel the spasms course through your body, knowing he was closer himself he let his fangs sink in your neck trying to draw out more cries of pleasure from your lips.
Cock swelling he anchored himself so he wouldn't hurt you.Pulling his fangs from your neck, he started to lap at the blood as he continued to thrust. His cock swelling until he finally released into your warm. Spurts of cum spilling from the tip of his cock as he filled you up with his seed.
Primal thoughts of filling you with his seed,watching your belly grow with his child, Husk was determined to make you pregnant with his kits...
You'd make such a wonderful mother.
His thrusts started to slow, the base of his cock swelling into a knot to keep the cum where it belonged. Remaining with in you, Husk bent down letting his tongue glide across the mark on your neck until he finally gave you a soft but brief kiss.
"I know, I do not say this much but I love you."
Husk muttered as he rest his head on your chest, his fur felt so soft, so nice. His eyes sliding closed as a soft purr left him.
Smiling softly you let your fingers run through his soft fur, a yawn escaping your lips. "I love you too Husk..."
You both fell into a blissful sleep, knowing or rather having a feeling that Husk's rut was far from over.
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hazbinhotelxreader · 3 months
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Adam x fem reader smut.
Words: 948
“On Top?”
A/n: hi! Okay another smut oneshot, hopefully this ones okay, I’m not attracted to males so it was a little difficult, but hopefully it turned out alright! Also I didn’t get any request for what the gender was so I made in a female reader since that’s easier.
(Requested by Anosquid on AO3)
Warnings: cock riding, size difference, blow jobs, biting, hair pulling, submissive Adam, cussing, insults, bondage, orgasm denial
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You and your oh so holy boyfriend, Adam, were a pretty…chaotic couple. He’s like a teenager who never matured, but you deal with it since you love him. He’s actually very immature during normal conversations, which led you too right now. You, pinning him down on the bed.
“Wow wow babe, chill won’t you? It was just a small little comment” he smirked, not taking this seriously like always. You roll your eyes, sitting on his lap. All he understood was that he’d get a good time with you, not caring about his little immature and rude comments towards you.
“You need to stop being such a bitch so often babe, learn how to fucking chill” He blurted out at you. And with that you roughly pull off his mask and kiss him harshly on the lips, it caught him off guard for a a second but kissed back with the same amount of force. He grabbed your hips and bucked his own hips at you like the whore he is. You slap his hands off of your hips harshly, making him put his hands down a little confused, you always liked it when he touched your hips.
You force your tongue into his mouth, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. He was struggling to keep up with your tongue, getting frustrated and wanting to be the dominant, trying to push you off of him, though you wouldn’t let him. You forcefully pin his hands down, winning dominance with your tongue. You grab some gold ropes and tied it around his wrists, then against the head board, he let out a growl of annoyance.
“Uhh, what the fuck are you doing?” he narrowed his eyes, but didn’t try to move or escape the ropes.
“Teaching you a little lesson” You respond and bit his neck harshly, he let out a surprised groan, looking down a little, and you forcefully grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling it to make his head go back up so his neck was exposed.
“Ow! You bitch be careful!” , He snarled at you. You ignored him, after all he does this often. And you but his neck more, leaving him to grunt and groan, turning on fast.
You could feel his member twitch in his clothes, feeling it hard against your ass. You continue to attack his neck, leaving no part untouched. After your done biting his sensitive neck, you move lower, pulling off his shirt and pants slowly to trade and make him mad, and you succeeded.
“Ugh! Hurry up bitch we don’t have all day”, he said frustrated, you take off his boxers and he immediately bucked his hips up, you grumble and hold them down.
“Be patient.” , you growl at him, you wrap your hand around his pulsing member, making him moan a little dramatically. You put your mouth near his cock and teasingly licked the tip, he groaned, trying to buck his hips more but your hand held them down. You finally put your mouth over his tip, sucking and licked it as you bob your head up and down. He moaned and smirked, closing his eyes.
“Oh ho ho…yea that’s it..taste that dick” Adam exclaimed as he bucked his hips into your mouth, you took in his cock more, feeling him about to cum soon from your skilled mouth, but you were going to let him get off that easy. So right before he was about to cum, you pulled your mouth off off of him.
His eyes widened, you have never denied him before. “H-hey! Get your mouth back on there bitch!” He narrowed his eyes, you put your mouth back on his cock, sucking again, allowing him to get close to an orgasm, but then denying it again.
He growled again and kept insulting and commanding you to continue. You did this again about 7 times, now he was frustrated and needy, starting to beg you for an orgasm.
“Please please please bitch! Just let me cum already! Is this any way you treat the first soul in heaven?!” He yelled, a little whiny.
You decided to finally give him what he’d been begging for the last 2 hours. You took off your own pants and panties, tossing them to the side and grabbed his member, as you started to lower yourself. You gasp at his size, moaning as you slowly take him in.
He let out a relieved sigh as he felt his member enter your tight pussy. “Ohhh yea….thats great..” he groaned..bucking his hips already and not giving you any time to adjust. You gasp and try to hold his hips down. But the pleasure was taking over you.
You throw your head back and closer your eyes while moaning as his member hit your g-spot over and over again. Your groan and gasp, his sounds being heard as well. His wrists started to get rope burned from the ropes holding them together, you grind your hips harder together, skin slapping together as your tight pussy tightens around his thick member.
He lets out a moan and bucks his hips wildly into yours, you both let out a cry of ecstasy, his warm seed shooting into you. You cum onto his member. Panting as you rest your hands on his chest. He smirked and spoke up. “That was great wasn’t it?” He said a little sadistic. “Now untie me so I can return the favor” he smirked..it was going to be a long night.
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starrystevie · 3 months
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"what are you doing," eddie mumbles in confusion, hair fanned out on steve's pillow, the moonlight streaming in giving him a hazy halo.
there's a hand on the side of his face and it's cupping his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin. it's soft, so soft, too soft. another hand is trapping his against the mattress, fingers trailing over his forearm before tangling into his own and squeezing tight. it's gentle, so gentle, too gentle.
eddie isn't soft, eddie isn't gentle. eddie isn't making love in a full size bed with wallpaper that matches the drapes. he isn't fluttering kisses in time with fluttering heartbeats and the fluttering wings of butterflies trapped in his stomach like the most lovely cage.
eddie is fucking at 2am when there's enough intoxication to make him look like he's worth it. he's rough and wild, quick and easy. a means to a barely wanted end because he's there and willing and with long enough hair to let people imagine he's someone else.
he should be caged instead of the damn butterflies. he bares his teeth and thrashes his limbs just to fight and see what he can get away with. he laughs loud and brash in the face of sweetness just to see anger, just to see hurt.
he has half a mind to think he's a feral animal that's hardly been trained, performing in some fucked up circus that charges two bucks to see him snarl and hurl insults at anyone who passes by. he bites at the hands that try to touch, try to feed, proving to the onlookers that he's only worth the pocket change they pay to see him.
but steve. he's holding his face like he wants to, holding his hand like it's the most important thing in the world. he's pressing kisses along eddie's jaw without any hurry, without any rush, kissing just to kiss. feeling just to feel. he's like a ray of goddamn sunshine even in the darkness that midnight provides, warming eddie from the inside out.
eddie wants to run. he wants to scream. he wants to feel like he's allowed steve's soft and gentle but he's-
"is this not okay?" and now steve's looking at him with all of whatever he's trying to give him lacing into his face, his eyes and spit slick lips sparkling in the moonlight like a shiny new toy. "do you not like it?"
concern and care are different sides of the same steve shaped coin and if eddie looks hard enough, he can see them blurring together in his frustratingly beautiful sparkling eyes and those damn butterflies start to come back.
"no, it's-" he let's out a sigh, relaxing his tight muscles and sinking into the bed, sinking into whatever steve is willing to give him. "just different, is all. good different, i think."
steve smiles and eddie shakily mirrors it back, before he's ducking his head again and slotting their lips together, fingers still holding tight to eddie's, still cupping his face like it's something precious.
eddie's come to terms with the taste of the metal bars of his cage, teeth wearing down as he tries to bite his way to freedom. maybe this time he'll let himself get used to the taste of soft and gentle smiles if it means loving steve.
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papercorgiworld · 4 months
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It started with a book
A Mattheo Riddle love story
Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader
The reader is a total bookworm and has a crush on Mattheo. For a summary check the request.
Warning: bullying, foul language and kissing
Picture source: https://pin.it/4HBHs0yxy
I’ve never written about a Hufflepuff reader before, I know that’s very Slytherin of me, but I really hope I did justice to our kind and hardworking Hufflepuffs.
I. Books and lifesavers
You were sitting in the quietest corner of the library and had just finished your essay on gillyweed. You reached for your newest novel, happy to finally dig into the book after finishing all your work. You scan the book in every way possible, adoring the illustrations and paper, but when you finally start the first sentence you’re interrupted.
“No, it should be here somewhere. It’s about conjuration, so this section.” You heard Mattheo’s voice explain, before he appeared next to your table looking at the books on the shelves. Your eyes shot up at him, but he was too focused on the books to even notice you. Your eyes immediately dropped back to your book when you saw Draco. “How would you know? You’ve never set foot in this place.” He snarls at his friend. Mattheo just rolls his eyes as his finger moves over the different titles. “Elemental Structure and Duration… Element-” You heard Mattheo mutter to himself and you looked back up from your book, watching him as he focussed on the books. “It’s Theory of Elemental Structure and Duration.” You suddenly blur and get up from your seat. Mattheo and Draco look surprised, like you had shown up out of nowhere. “Eavesdropping are we?” Draco snares and your heart sinks as they both stare at you. “No, I-I just, the book- it’s over here, somewhere.” You stutter as your face reddens. Mattheo throws Draco a dirty look and Draco just raises his eyebrows in defence.
Mattheo watching you stammer.
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You quickly turn away from them and take a few steps towards a different bookcase. You panic a bit when you don’t immediately find it, but after a few seconds you spot it. “Here you go.” You hold the book in Mattheo’s direction, who carefully watches you before taking it. “Great, thanks. You’re a lifesaver.” A nervous laugh rolls over your lips as your eyes lock with Mattheo’s, but he quickly turns away and with a small wave they disappear. Yup, the cutest guy at Hogwarts just called me a lifesaver. You can’t help but bite your lip trying to contain your smile. “Well of course she knew where the book was, she looks like she bloody lives in this library.” Draco’s loud voice makes you wish you had kept your mouth shut instead of helping them. I’m such an idiot.
Time skip: a few weeks later.
II. Deadlines and crushes
Mattheo enters the slytherin common room exhausted and ready to blow off some steam. “Astronomy tower anyone?” Theo answers his friend's question by simply raising his hand and reaching for his cigarettes on the table. “Where have you been all day? We’ve been waiting for you?” Blaise questions. “The library. Apparently, I’ve missed three essays this month. Sluggy says that I can make up for it by writing one long one about Felix Felicis. If I miss tomorrow’s deadline, no quidditch for a month.” Draco’s eyes fill with panic. “I bloody hope you’ve finished that essay or you’re not heading up to the astronomy tower.” Blaise laughs at Draco’s dramatics. “Okay there, Matt’s mom.” Mattheo shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I only have to write two more paragraphs but I brought the book with me.” After a moment Mattheo's eyes widened. “The book!”. Without another word he sprints to the library hoping he’ll get there before it closes.
“Urgh.” You groan as you drop your books for the third time since you’d left the library. Clearly there was such a thing as too many books. While picking them up you spot Mattheo running towards the closed door of the library. “Fuck!” He screams with obvious frustration and without a second thought he pulls out his wand and points it at the door. “No! It’s enchanted, you can’t and also they will know.” You startle Mattheo with your sudden interruption and he lowers his wand. “Yeah, well, I don’t care, I really need my book.” When he raises his wand again, you step in front of him. “A book about what?” Even though your heart is racing, there’s something calm about you that has Mattheo surrender. “Felix Felicis.” You feel yourself get all giddy knowing that you have exactly what he needs.
He helps you carry your books as you both make your way to the Hufflepuff common room. “You’re a real nerdy one, aren’t you?” Mattheo asks you somewhat tactlessly. You smile at his bluntness. “I prefer ‘book enthusiast’.” He raises his eyebrows, making you laugh. “Nerd.” He sings and you give him a playful push. “Do you still want your book?” You tease and he smiles, adoring you. “Well of course, my apologies dear book enthusiast.” With bright smiles on your faces you enter the Hufflepuff common room, making everyone look up in surprise. There’s some awkward shuffling between you two as you try to take the books he was holding for you. “I’ll be back in a minute.” You leave Mattheo standing in the Hufflepuff common room seriously wondering what you Hufflepuffs were thinking when you decorated the place.
“Tadaah.” You say as you hand him your book on potions. “There’s two chapters on Felix Felicis, Slugghurn advised me to buy this book so you’ll definitely score points using this.” Mattheo’s eyes light up. “You’re again a lifesaver, princes, I won’t forget this.” Princess? And, he remembers me from the library. “I’ll return it to you tomorrow afternoon.” You watch him walk away and when you turn around and spot Cedric you curse yourself for staring like a lovestruck fool. He comes up to you, trying to hide his smile, but failing. “You alright there tomato face?” You force your lips into a line and look up at him. “Yeah, I’m just helping him out by lending him a book, since the library was closed.” He nods pretending to be convinced. “Uhuh, but still watch out, he’s still Mattheo Riddle.” You nod and make your way to your dorm.
III. Acts of love
The next day Mattheo had returned your book and ended up walking you to class, which had you walking on sunshine for the rest of the day, but I didn’t stop there. When he caught you staring during transfiguration you looked away blushing. However, when you looked back up after a moment he was still staring back at you with a sweet smile. When you sink back into your book you hear Mcgonagall. “Mister Riddle, if you could please give your book as much attention as you give your fellow students that would be much appreciated.” Theo, who sat next to Mattheo, couldn’t help but snicker. “That obvious?” Mattheo asked. Theo nodded. “Yes, that obvious.”
Mattheo would hold the door open for you and wink. “Did Riddle just wink at you?” Hermoine frowned. “Uhm, no, I just helped him with a book once… or twice.” Hermoine raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry, who also thought your answer was a bit off.
The next few weeks, he would come over to help you whenever he saw you carry more than three books and walk you to your class or to your common room. It was starting to get obvious to those around you two that something was going on. “Why don’t you just ask her out?” Theo took a long drag from his cigarette and looked at his friend. Mattheo’s first instinct was to play dumb but he knew that was pointless with Theodore. “I’m working up to it.” Mattheo stated and Theo laughed. “I’ve never seen you work this hard in your life.” Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I guess I’ve never had the motivation to work for something like this.” Theo stared at the cigarette in his hand. “Then don’t ever let go of her.” Mattheo swore to take that advice to heart when he nodded.
IV. Bullies and kisses
“This is a library, please just lower your voices a bit.” You had softly asked an overly noisy group when you were studying. They had just laughed and eventually the librarian threw them out because someone else had complained.
You were on your way to the great hall for dinner when you heard some people laugh. “This is a library, please just lower your voices.” One of the noisy guys from earlier mocked you. Panic filled your eyes as you saw two of them walk up to you. “Care to share your notes?” One of them joked and tried to snatch your notebook from your hands, but you held onto it tightly. You tugged hard and took a few steps back trying to get him let go of it. When he looked over your shoulder and noticed that you were close to the stairs he let go of it and you stumbled back, falling a few stairs and hitting your face. You heard people laugh and you felt like half of Hogwarts was there. Your eyes were watery, but only when Ginny came running up to you did the tears start to roll over your cheeks. She wrapped an arm around you, held your stuff and walked you to the great hall.
It was Hermoine’s harsh voice that made Mattheo look up to you. “What happened?” Hermoine almost shouted and Mattheo’s entire demeanour changed when he saw your teary face, but he stayed seated at the slytherin table. When Hermoine made you lower your hand from your face, revealing a bruise on your perfect face, Mattheo felt his heart ache like never before. “That bastard made her fall off the stairs.” Mattheo carefully followed Ginny’s finger and his eyes landed on some snickering low life. You were surrounded by your friends and hadn’t seen Mattheo’s fuming figure get up from his seat and walk towards the door of the great hall.
The two assholes were laughing at your crying, while casually leaning against the door when Mattheo grabbed the one that Ginny had pointed to by the collar and dragged him out of sight, so the professor wouldn’t see what came next. “Picking on Hufflepuffs, that’s your game? Bet you didn’t expect to have me in your face?” Mattheo raged on with eyes full of hatred. Despite the attempts of the second douchebag trying to hold Mattheo back, he managed to punch him. The guy fell to the floor and Mattheo dragged him to nearby stairs. “How about I push you off of these?” Blaise was the one who reached Mattheo first and held him back long enough for the two bullies to leave. “Think about the next quidditch game, mate. If you get caught fighting, you’ll get detention for the whole week.” Mattheo pushed himself free. “Like I care.” Mattheo turned around looking for something or someone to punch. “They took her to madam Pomfrey. Apparently, her wrist was hurting as well.” Enzo spoke softly. “You should go see her.” Blaise urged and Mattheo calmed down, nodding.
Pomfrey had just bantaged your wrist when you spotted Mattheo leaning against the doorframe. He looked a bit pained to you so you immediately thanked Pomfrey and walked over to Mattheo. “You alright?” You asked, making him chuckle. “You’re a weird one, you know that right?” Seeing your confused face he explains himself. “You’re the one in the infirmary, but somehow you’re concerned about me?” A sheepish smile takes over your lips. “You just look a little sad.” He shakes his hand and wraps his arm around you, walking you to your common room. “Don’t worry, I’m fine now. Let’s stop by the kitchens and then settle in that weird looking common room of yours.” You frown and narrow your eyes at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Weird looking?” Mattheo looked at you and fell in love with you even more. Soft, red eyes from crying, a bruise and a bandaged wrist, but still by far the most beautiful person.
“You sure you're alright?” You tilt your head a little as you scan his face, but he just shamelessly continues staring at you. Your cheeks heat up when you notice him lean in. Suddenly all your nerves calm and your hand rests on his chest as your lips meet. He places a hand on the small of your back and pushes you into him. His warmth and strong arms make you relax even more. Your hand sneaks up to the back of his neck, where you carefully play with a few strands of hair. As sweet as he tries to keep the kiss, there’s obvious fire and hunger in it. This has definitely been on his mind as much as it has been on yours.
V. Secrets and good books
You turn the page of your book. “No, wait, I wasn’t finished yet.” You groan and tilt your head to face Mattheo, whose arms are around you, as you both lay in bed. “You’re a slow reader.” He frowns. “No, I’m not, but in case you haven’t noticed there’s a pretty girl in my arms and that’s distracting.” You can’t keep yourself from smiling and blushing. Cheeky bastard, giving me compliments and stuff, so annoying, those damn Slyterins. Reluctantly you turn the page back, but at the same time you lean into him purposely distracting him. His eyes immediately lock with yours and you can’t help but giggle. He rolls over so you’re under him and he starts mercilessly attacking you with kisses, but suddenly you hear something. You push Mattheo off of you. “I hear something, someone’s coming. Quick, hide in here.” Without another thought you push the dark lord’s son into your closet.
Mattheo when he realises a Hufflepuff just forced him into a closet and now he has to listen to Hermione rant about Ron.
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“Merlin! Ron’s the worst!” Hermione slams the door open and starts ranting for 10 minutes straight. It takes a lot of work and lame excuses to get her out of your room. When you finally manage to get her out, Mattheo doesn’t waste a second to open the closet door. “Ron is such an ass.” Mattheo says with a ridiculous voice, making you shake your head. “Also, wear this to the party tonight.” He says holding a dress he had found in your closet while he was in there. “Please.” He pouts.
VI. This one’s taken
“Honestly, hiding in a hufflepuff closet from Granger, was a situation I never expected to find myself in.” Mattheo said as he passed the bottle of firewhiskey to Theodore who was still grinning after hearing Mattheo’s story. “How long are you going to keep this a secret?” Mattheo just shrugged, he hadn’t really thought about it. Mattheo hadn’t spotted you at the party, but he knew you were here somewhere so his eyes kept scanning the room for your perfect figure.
Cedric stood next to you when he swung his arm around your neck and leaned in while pointing at a guy he started hanging out with a few weeks ago. “This is Liam.” You smile politely to the guy that Cedric’s pointing at as you continue to gently move with the music. “Nice to meet you.” Cedric lets go of you and his spot is filled by the new guy. Liam is definitely a fun guy, he’s interested in books and gives you tips on ideal reading spots. However, he’s not Mattheo and your eyes can’t help but search for your boyfriend.
“Damn, should we tell Matt?” Draco asks Blaise, oblivious to the fact that Theo and Mattheo are standing behind him. “Tell me what?” Draco’s eyes widen and he curses himself. Blaise points towards you and Liam. “That mcflirty is hanging out with your girl.” Mattheo finally finds you in the crowd and he instantly feels himself boil up. Liam’s hand doesn’t touch you yet but it's hovering over your lower back, while his lips are dangerously close to your face as he’s talking to you. Mattheo feels himself cool down a bit when he sees you take a step away from the guy and lean towards Luna. “Remember what your girl said Riddle, a week of no sex for every punch you throw.” Mattheo rolls his eyes, but then continues to watch you dance in that cute dress he had told you to wear.
When Mattheo hears the music change he downs his drink and walks over to you. You don’t see him approaching since your back is turned towards him, but when you suddenly feel a chest against you and a warm breath in your neck you immediately know it’s him. You tilt your head and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek, while his hands snake around your body. “I think it’s time we stop sneaking around. I would hate it if some guy got the wrong idea.” He whispers into your ear and your eyes shoot up to Liam, who clearly wasn’t pleased. Mattheo on the other hand is very pleased. He pushes his crotch against your ass and his hands move to your hips, while he continues to kiss your neck until you turn to face him and he catches your lips with his.
Hermione’s eyes roll between you and her drink, wondering what she drank to see what she's seeing right now. “I always thought they looked cute together.” Luna blurs. “Wicked.” The Weasley twins sing as they watch your little public make-out. “I’m pretty sure all of Hogwats will know about us by tomorrow.” You say when Mattheo finally releases your lips. He can’t help but smirk when he sees all eyes are on you. “Good. Then let’s go, because I like that dress on you, but princes it’s going to look even better on my bedroom floor.” He spins you around and picks you up, you immediately wrap your legs around him, while kissing him.
Word count: 2950
This was not proofread. If you spotted an error, let me know. Lovies!
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fettuccin-e · 6 months
Text
Man in the Mirror
Kinktober Day 19: Voyeurism
Tags: Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant, afab!fem!reader, consensual voyeurism, unprotected piv (pls wrap it in real life omg), dirty talk, slight degradation, Steven watches Marc fuck you through a mirror idk what to tell you (w/c: 1K)
A/N: Back with the boys because I love them and I cannot help myself okay!!! And this is consensual, even though Steven doesn't exactly know it at the beginning, he just thinks he's being a perv. But in my fics, everyone is a perv alright! (this month I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)
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Steven knows it’s wrong, God, it’s fucking wrong, but it’s like he can’t stop himself.
There’s something about the way Marc fucks you, the way you scrabble at the bedsheets when the shoves you into a lewd arch, his hand pressing into your back. The way you moan for it, heaving breaths into your lungs. It’s the way Marc talks to you through it, talking to you like you’re the filthy one, like you’re the one who’s desperate for it, even though Steven knows it’s both of you.
“God damn, baby,” Marc snarls, fucking into you hard enough that tears are starting to leak down your cheeks. “You’re fucking sucking me in, sweetheart. Feels good, huh? Getting fucked like you need?”
“Yes, fuck, yes,” you gasp through the moans he forces out of your mouth with every thrust. “It’s so fucking good, Marc, you’re so fucking deep.”
Steven should stop, right now. Go hide in the headspace, go to sleep and let you both have some privacy. Fuck, he's as naked as Marc is right now, he should feel exposed, have some god damn decency. But it’s like he’s stuck in place, staring in through the mirror as Marc rips you apart in ways he’s never dreamed to. It’s fucking addicting to watch the way your eyes roll back, the way your ass smacks back against Marc every time he shoves himself in, in, in. He reaches down to his bare cock and squeezes, unable to help it.
You’d only put this mirror up a week ago, and he hadn't even thought about the positioning of it. It’s placed on the wall right across from the foot of your bed, and fuck, he can see everything. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t thought about this view when he had helped you set it straight, Marc coming into view in the reflection and smirking at Steven like he knew something he didn’t. Steven had brushed it off.
He shouldn’t have fucking brushed it off.
Because he’s sure, almost fucking positive, that Marc had somehow known. He’d known that Steven would watch, just like this, how Marc takes care of their girl. How he destroys you in ways that Steven can’t even think up on his own. It’s a special kind of torture, seeing you like this and not feeling it, not feeling you.
Marc’s thrusts are brutal, violent like the man himself. He treats you with so much care normally, Steven has seen it, but this isn’t gentle in the least. And you love it, crying out and drooling onto your sheets as Marc rips you to pieces, pulling you back onto his cock with thick fingers digging hard into your hips. He’s not sure how long he’s been watching intently, unable to tear his gaze away, when he sees Marc’s head snap up.
Looking right fucking at him.
Steven should go, disappear from the consciousness entirely, but it’s like he’s glued to the spot, his gaze locked with Marc’s. Marc’s thrusts don’t stutter, don’t stop, and you’re blissfully unaware as Marc watches Steven watch you.
Until Marc grins like the bastard he is, and leans down to mutter, just loud enough for Steven to hear, “Guess who’s here, gorgeous?”
“Wh-what?” you gasp through Marc’s unrelenting thrusts.
“He’s watching, baby,” Marc smiles, glancing up at Steven. “Just like you wanted.”
You wanted- you wanted? Steven’s breath catches in his throat, he’s pretty sure his heart stops fucking beating. 
“Steven,” you moan like it’s been punched out of you. “Steven’s here.”
“He’s watchin’ in that mirror you put up, sweetheart,” Marc says, “Watching me fuck you.” Steven is flushed beet-red, he knows it, but still, he watches. “Look at him, baby,” Marc growls, “Fucking look at him.”
Marc reaches up and curls a fist into your hair, tugging your head up to look straight into the mirror, straight at Steven. And God, you’re beautiful, tears falling down your face, your lips plump from the way you’ve been biting at them. You can’t see him, Steven knows that, but you look anyway, like you really can.
“She wanted this,” Marc snarls, and you clench your eyes shut, like you want to hide from Steven’s gaze. “She put that mirror up, hoping you’d watch like this. Wanted me to watch you both too, Steven.” You whine, and Marc’s thrusts seem to get even harder. “Our baby’s a little slut, just wants someone to watch her get fucked, isn’t that right, honey?”
“Your-” you gasp, staring into the mirror, like you’re talking to Steven, too. “Your slut, fuck, just yours.”
Marc fucking growls, his hips driving his cock into you. Steven can hear the way your pussy squishes around him, so wet you’re dripping down onto the sheets beneath you. Your body is covered in sweat, glinting in the light, practically glowing.
“Gonna let him fuck you after this, baby?” Marc grits, “Fucking whore for this cock, can’t get enough.” You slur a stream of yesyesyesyes as Marc reaches beneath you to start rubbing furiously at your clit, and you tremble beneath him.
“C’mon, gorgeous, cum for me.” Marc glances up at Steven. “Cum for both of us.”
Your eyes go wide, your mouth gaping open around a silent scream as you gush down Marc’s cock, body shaking as Marc fucks you through it, letting out a strangled groan of his own. Steven is hard as a fucking rock, straining against his stomach, begging for your touch. He watches as Marc thrusts deep and stills, his eyelids fluttering as he pumps you full of his cum.
You slump into the sheets, and Marc slides out of you, leaning down to kiss down your spine, muttering little praises of “such a good girl,” and “took it so well, looked so pretty,” into your skin. You roll onto your back, tugging Marc down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Marc smiles against your mouth, and Steven feels that familiar pull to the front.
He shuts his eyes, and when he blinks them open again, you’re smiling up at him, reaching up to brush a reverent hand across his jaw.
“Enjoyed the show?” you whisper, and Steven can’t help the way he grins, the way his heart flutters.
“More than you know, darling,” he mutters, and leans to lick into your mouth. “Got to give Marc a show now, yeah?”
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scuderiahoney · 4 months
Text
All You Got
Charles Leclerc x teammate!reader
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Masterlist
Summary: You hate Charles Leclerc. The feeling is mutual. He’s made that clear from the very beginning. enemies to lovers anon I hope you’re still here and I hope I got this right!
Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild swearing, mild car crash (everyone is fine), panic attacks, comments about sexual activities (but no actual sex/smut)
Everyone in the entire world seems to love Charles Leclerc. Honestly, you can’t blame them. Objectively, you get it. He’s the total package- good looks, kind, generous, rich. They fall at his his feet, and they worship the ground he walks on.
Everyone except for you.
To you, everything he does rubs you the wrong way. Charles Leclerc annoys you to no end. You can’t even pinpoint what it is, just- you can’t stand him. Which is becoming a problem, seeing as he’s your teammate, so you have to deal with him constantly.
Charles was a constant thorn in your side when you were just competing against each other from separate garages. Now he’s your paddock next door neighbor, your supposed collaborator, and the only person who you can truly be compared to. Equal machinery and all that. The truth is, he’s good at what he does, which only makes it so much worse.
You’re having a good season, a great one, even. You’re not a rookie, but it’s your first year with Ferrari, your first year with a car that isn’t a tractor. It’s just that you’re constantly being compared to and overshadowed by him. It’s awful and exhausting and you sit in the briefing before the race glaring daggers at the side of his head.
He’d slowed you down in Q3. You were on a flying lap and he got in the way, left you starting in 9th when you were on track for your best qualifying yet. He’d said it was an accident, and everyone else believed him. Including your own race engineer. You think maybe if you stare hard enough you could actually light all the product in his hair on fire. Then he has the audacity to come up to you after the meeting, to lay his hand on your upper arm softly. You wrench yourself out of his grip, turn to him with a snarl. He must take it as surprise rather than what it really is, because he has a soft smile on his face.
“I’m sorry, again, about quali,” he says, and you spot a camera over his shoulder and fight the urge to roll your eyes. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you, yes?”
“Crash out at the start,” you tell him, raising one brow. There’s a smile on your face and venom in your words. “And take Max out with you.”
“Anything but that,” he says.
He winks before he breezes past you, and if there hadn’t been so many people around, you think you may have actually slapped him this time.
…..
You collapse into a chair in a swanky restaurant that night, resting your chin on closed fists, elbows on the table. Lily, jumps when you do. Alex is sitting across from you, doing a bad job of hiding a laugh behind his hand.
“I’m gonna kill him,” you tell them, knuckles digging into your cheeks. “I’m going to pass all the cars between us tomorrow and ram him into the wall.”
“No, you’re not,” George says as he sits down, Carmen following behind. “Because when you do pass all those cars tomorrow, you’re going to want to stay in the race.”
“I was going to qualify second,” you groan. “I was, seriously-“
“I know,” George says, patting your shoulder. The waiter has appeared at the end of the table.
Alex points at you. “She’ll have a shot of tequila, please.”
“She has to drive tomorrow morning,” Lily reminds him.
“And we have to sit through dinner tonight,” George says.
You slap his shoulder, glaring daggers at him, now.
“Did he apologize?” Lily asks.
“Of course!” You snap. “Because he’s fucking Charles Leclerc, and-“
Before you can launch into one of your tirades, Lily waves her hand. “Forget I asked. Never mind. This subject is banned until the weekend is over- we’re all here, this is supposed to be a nice dinner.”
You sigh and slump into your chair. “Okay, mom.”
Once the conversation starts, though, and you have your shot of tequila, you forget about Charles. You’re here to spend time with your friends, not worry about your teammate. It’s the first time in a while that both of their girlfriends have been able to make it to the same race. You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and you refuse to let Charles sour it. Besides, they’ve all heard it before, they don’t need to hear you complain again.
The next day, when you take 5th and Charles takes first, you don’t let him see you cry. You sneak out of the celebrations as early as you possibly can and head back to the hotel.It’s just so frustrating. You’re trying so hard, giving it your all, and it’ll never be enough. You want the podiums, the trophies, the champagne spraying in your face. You want it all, everything Charles has. He takes it for granted.
When you open your hotel room door, there’s a giant bouquet of flowers on the dresser. For a moment, you think maybe it’s from your family, or maybe George and Alex, a sympathy present for a race that held so much potential. You slip your finger under the flap of the envelope and pull the card out of the white flowers.
Sorry about Quali,
CL
You throw the flowers and the note in the trash and cry yourself to sleep.
…..
Lily tried to convince you that the flowers were actually supposed to be an apology, but you’d refused to see it as anything other than what it was- a way to get in your head. So at the next race, you leave it all on the track. You manage to qualify 4th- not the best you’ve ever done, but you feel pretty good about it. You feel even better that Charles is starting in 7th. He’ll be stuck in the midfield, in the dirty air, while you fight with the big dogs. You’re on cloud nine, floating around the garage, thanking your crew and your engineers and offering drinks on you if you get a podium on Sunday. It wouldn’t be your first, but it would be your first in a while, and it would really crush Charles, you just know it.
“Congrats,” he says, standing next to you in the media pen.
You think he waits to talk to you until there’s cameras around. It makes him look good, being nice to his teammate. You can play the PR game too. You plaster on a bright smile. Behind Charles, Alex raises his brows at you. You tone down the smile and he gives you a thumbs up.
“Thanks,” you say, shrugging slightly. “Sorry about seventh.”
He shrugs. “Could be worse.”
You head into the lion’s den just after that, hit with a barrage of questions about every aspect of the weekend. How does it feel to be starting fourth? Good. Do you feel good about your chances tomorrow? Yes. How’s the car feel? Good. Are you hoping for a podium? Always. What did you give Charles to convince him to let you qualify higher than him this weekend? What?
The reporter who asked it is sneering at you. Your media handler balks at the question, fumbles to grab your arm. She’s afraid you’re going to snap, but to be honest, you’re too dumbfounded to find the words. Maybe he doesn’t deserve a response anyways.
“She didn’t give me anything,” Charles says, grabbing the microphone from your hand, and now you’re seeing red for a different reason. “She didn’t need to. She did it all on her own.”
Which is true, and nice of him to say. Objectively. But he’s not saying it because it’s true, or because he wants to be nice. You can already picture his devoted fans, clipping the video and making TikTok edits that make him look like a saint. He is, in their eyes. In everyone’s eyes.
You leave the microphone with him and stalk back to your driver room.
You run into Charles in the hallway later, when you’re slinking your way to catering to try and find something good to eat. He’s just- there, all of the sudden, broad shoulders taking up all the space. You try to slip around him, but he moves with you.
You look up at him, raising your brows and throwing your hands up. “What, Leclerc?”
He raises his brows, too. “Just wanted to say sorry. For what he said. It’s not true, you know.”
“Yes, Charles, I know I didn’t… blow you or whatever to get you to let me qualify better,” you say, and he rears his head back. “Can you move?”
“Hey,” he says, voice soft. “Look, I just wanted to say-“
“I think you’ve said enough,” you snap. “You said it all, live on camera. The whole world heard it.”
“I was just trying to stand up for you.”
“I can stand up for myself,” you say, throat feeling tight. “I’ve been doing it my whole career. No need to step in now. And honestly, we both know you get off on being the savior, so cut the shit.”
You finally find a gap and slip around him. You walk out of the garage and all the way down to Williams. Nobody stops you when you head to Alex’s room- he’s there, and George is too.
“We were wondering when you’d show up,” George says, as Alex holds his arms out wide. “Fucking bullshit, the whole lot of it.”
You nod and collapse into Alex’s chest. Neither of them comment on your tears.
“At least Charles stood up for you,” George says brightly.
“Fuck off,” you say, and Alex slaps his shoulder for you.
…..
They call a red flag three laps in, and your team calls you into the pits before you can even figure out what’s going on. You’re in third, having moved past Lewis in the opening chaos. Your heart sinks, knowing that when the race restarts you’ll have lost the lead you’d built up. You search the big screens as you pull into the pit lane, trying to figure out what’s happened, and then your heart sinks even more.
It’s a Mercedes, crumpled against the barriers. They only show it for a second, and you can’t hear any of what the commentators are saying. You hadn’t caught the number or the helmet, and- it’s either Lewis or George.
As much as you like Lewis, you’ve been friends with George since you were little. He and Alex had taken you under their wings, accepted you when a lot of the others wouldn’t. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest as they help you climb out of your car.
You flip your visor up and look to the nearest mechanic. “Who is it?”
He stares, blankly, and you already know.
“Who is it?” You ask, louder, looking around the room frantically.
“S’George,” someone finally answers.
“Is he-“
“We don’t know yet,” someone says, gently. “Just-“
The panic claws at your chest. You haven’t felt like this a long time, not since Lily called you from the hospital when Alex had appendicitis. You can’t breathe, can’t see, can feel your fingers.
There’s a ripple of noise, applause from the crowd. You look at the TV, see George, standing strong and holding up a thumbs up. It should be a relief, but the panic doesn’t fade. Suddenly someone’s hands are on your shoulders, guiding you into the hallway. Fingers brush against your jaw, unbuckling your helmet and wiggling it off your head. You gasp for air, and strong hands hold you steady.
“Breathe, breathe, it’s okay, he’s okay,” Charles says.
You should be shocked it’s him, but right now all you can feel is panic. You grab onto his wrists, looking for an anchor in the storm. He doesn’t let go, just holds onto you, squeezes your shoulders until you start breathing slower and slower. He only drops his grip when you drop yours. You wipe tears and snot and sweat from your face and sigh.
Suddenly it hits you- it’s Charles, holding onto you, witnessing your panic attack. You take a couple steps back.
“It’s okay,” he says again, reaching out. You brush him away. “Hey, how about we go sit, yes? Have some water?”
“I’m fine,” you sniffle.
“You’re not.”
“Why do you care?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes again.
“Because you’re my teammate,” he says. “Because your friend crashed and you are upset.”
You roll your eyes. Charles has the audacity to look confused. Like he doesn’t know.
“You don’t have to act like you like me, Charles. There aren’t any cameras around,” you snap.
Charles blinks once, then again. “What?”
“You can drop the act,” you say as you cross your arms over your chest. “I already know you hate me, you don’t have to pretend. You can go.”
Charles looks utterly and completely perplexed. For a moment, you falter. He hates you. Why does he seem so confused? It’s not that difficult to understand. Why had he even come back here with you in the first place? He could’ve let one of your crew members help you, or left you to deal with it alone. What the hell is going on here?
“I don’t hate you,” he says, voice soft. “Why would you think I hate you?”
“You’ve hated me since I got here,” you remind him. “Actually, since before I even signed the fucking contract.”
“What are you talking about?”
You stare at him, wide eyed. Is it possible he doesn’t even remember? Maybe he hates you that much.
“When I came to the factory for contract negotiations,” you start, “you made it very clear I was the last possible person you wanted as your teammate.”
You’d been leaving the factory. He’d stopped you in the hall. Sounds like you might be my new teammate, he’d said. Hopefully, if it all goes well, you’d replied. Any advice?
He’d looked around, checked to see that nobody was there. Then, voice low and serious, arms crossed, he’d said, this is the last place you belong. If you know what’s best for you, you will not sign that contract.
You’d left that day heartbroken and with a vendetta against him.
Charles’ eyes go wide when you repeat his words back to you. “I did not say that.”
“I think I’d remember,” you tell him, trying again to shove past him.
“No, no, I mean- I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, insistent, grabbing onto your arm gently. “I- that was before they hired Fred, yes?”
“Yes?” You answer, furrowing your brows at him.
“And before they changed the staff, before they-“ he sighs. “I had a shit year. I was worried the next was going to be the same. I was trying to warn you.”
Now it’s your turn to blink once, then again. “No, you���”
“I swear,” he says. “On my life, I swear.”
He draws a tiny cross with his finger, right over his heart. You take a step back and drag a hand down your face. Your head is spinning, tilted on an insane axis.
“You thought I hated you, all this time?” He says, brows furrowed. “I sent you flowers, after the quali thing-“
“I thought you were playing mind games!” You cry out.
He’s reaching for your arm again. This time you let him. His fingers dig into your skin pleasantly- not enough to feel bad, just enough to know he’s there. It’s like the fight has suddenly left your body. He doesn’t hate you. He sent you flowers because he really was sorry.
And you threw them in the trash.
“So when I stood up for you with that reporter, you thought…” he trails off, then laughs. “What, you thought I was- this is why you reacted so badly. This explains so much.”
“Yes!” You say, nodding. “Why are you so fucking ominous with your warnings? Why were you so cryptic?”
“English is not my first language and I had to be careful about how I said it, there could have been people listening!” He says, laughing again. “You didn’t listen, anyways.”
“No, because then I wanted to prove to you that I could handle myself, that I deserved the seat!”
“Of course you deserved the seat,” he says, wide eyed. “That was never a question.”
The two of you stare at each other for a beat. Then you double over in laughter, tears streaming down your face for a different reason. Charles joins you, his laughter mixing with yours for the first time ever. The noise of it sends a jolt through your heart.
He doesn’t hate you. How crazy is that?
…..
When you run into Alex in the paddock later, he’s staring like you’ve grown a second head. Actually, with the intensity of his stare, you think you may have grown two extra heads. Maybe even a third eye. He comes to a stop in front of you, and you cock your head at him.
“Hey, Al,” you greet him. “Have you seen Georgie? He’s not at Merc.”
“Yeah, he’s… he’s at the stewards, doing a debrief,” Alex says. “He said he’d meet us at the driver briefing.”
“Oh, cool,” you say. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s fine,” Alex says, eyes flickering across your face.
“That’s good. I’m glad,” Charles says from his spot next to you.
His arm is slung around your shoulders, his race suit tied around his waist, just like yours. You take it in from Alex’s viewpoint- the proximity, the fact that you’re even letting him touch you, and the look on his face makes sense.
“Hey, did you know Charles doesn’t actually hate me?” You ask Alex, and next to you, your teammate laughs.
“I told you that a million times,” Alex deadpans.
“Huh. Weird.” You shrug. “We should go, the briefing starts in five minutes.”
Alex trails behind the two of you, quiet the whole way there. Charles peels off when you arrive and stops to say hi to Max. George is already sitting down in a chair near the front. You sit down next to him, eyes tracing over him like you’re looking for injuries. Alex sits on his other side.
“I’m fine,” George says, nudging your shoulder lightly.
“Excuse me if I’m worried,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
Alex opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, someone sits down next to you and elbows you lightly. It’s Charles, a cold water bottle in hand, extended towards you. You take it eagerly. His knee nudges against yours, and you nudge him back. You thank him, opening the water bottle and taking a drink.
“Mate, I think I hit my head harder than I realized,” George whispers to Alex.
“Nope, you’re seeing correctly,” Alex says, holding his hands up when George turns towards him. “I don’t know either!”
…..
It turns out that when you’re not busy thinking Charles hates you, and hating him back, he’s actually pretty fun to be around. The two of you have nearly everyone else bewildered for the next few races, because you’re suddenly attached at the hip. You’ve always been civil in public, but this is a different story.
In briefings, Charles saves you a seat, and Alex and George have to fight over who gets to sit next to you. You eat lunches and dinners together in the paddock, out in the open at a patio table. Charles brings you coffee in the mornings, and you bring him pastries. During breaks, the two of you can often be found hunched over your phone, watching YouTube videos together. You have a surprising amount in common. You wonder how you never saw it before.
Charles even takes you with him to play padel one morning, brings you a half hour early to try and show you how. When George and Alex show up to play against you, they stare at you in confusion for a solid thirty seconds.
“You don’t understand,” Alex says over lunch with you and Lily later that day. “He had his hand on her waist.”
Lily is the only one who hadn’t been surprised. She shrugs.
“He was correcting my posture,” you say. “Alex is just mad that I beat him.”
“Charles beat me, you were just on his team,” Alex corrects. He’s not exactly wrong. “Come on, like, two months ago she hated his guts. Tell me this isn’t crazy, Lil. I think we need an intervention.”
“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to talk about the intervention in front of the intervention-ee,” you say, stirring your pasta. “Intervention-ette?”
“She’s fine,” Lily says, smiling at you. “She’s just finding out that hate and love are a lot more similar than you’d think.”
You drop your fork, wincing when it clatters. “I don’t love him.”
Lily cocks her head at you. You freeze. Alex is looking back and forth between the two of you like it’s a tennis match. You can feel your face growing hot.
“I don’t,” you repeat. “We’re friends, that’s all.”
Lily blinks, feigns surprise. “I never said anything about romantic love.”
You swallow. “Yeah, but that’s what you meant-“
“That’s what you assumed I meant,” she says, and you blink.
There are butterflies in your stomach- where did those come from? You definitely don’t love Charles. Like Alex said- two months ago, you hated him. Well, you hated that he hated you. You hated the way you thought he was treating you. But now, in a different light, his actions seem a bit endearing. You’re just swept up in the new friendship, that’s all. Lily’s reading too far into it.
You tell her as much, and she drops the subject. Alex seems happy to move on, a bit unprepared to handle the whole conversation. But Lily watches you, and you can’t help but feel like maybe she knows something you don’t.
…..
It sticks in your head, is the thing. Hate and love are a lot more similar than you think. And to be honest, it sort of makes sense. Both very strong emotions, both making your chest feel tight and your cheeks feel hot. You’re not in love with Charles, though. You can’t be. He’s just- a friend. He’s a friend, and it’s new, and of course you’re going to spend time together. You’re getting to know each other! This is normal, this is teammate bonding like you were supposed to do when you joined the team.
It’s not weird that Charles introduces you to his family when they come to one of the races. It’s not weird that you’re inviting him out for drinks when you go out with George and Alex after a race. It’s not weird that you start actually playing padel and asking him to help you practice- it’s fun, and he’s good at it, that’s all.
Then you’re out at a club in Monaco one night, surrounded by other drivers. You go to leave, Lily tugging on your hand. The two of you are having a sleepover without Alex. You’re saying your goodbyes, waving and smiling and-
Charles grabs onto you, hauls you into a hug. He’s a little tipsy, you think, but not drunk. You laugh and lean into the hug, wrap your arms around him, breathe in the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent. Then he pulls away, puts his hands on your shoulders, and kisses both of your cheeks.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach. Lily has to drag you away as you giggle before you make a fool of yourself. Charles waves and smiles brightly when you turn around. You burst out onto the sidewalk and cover your face in your hands. Really, it means nothing. It’s just his way of greeting people or saying goodbye, it’s a thing he does. But your chest feels warm and your head is swimming, and it’s not the alcohol.
“Oh, shit,” you say to Lily, who’s smiling at you.
“Love and hate,” she reminds you.
…..
You swear Lily to secrecy, and though she loves Alex, she would never sell you out, thank god. You’re determined to act like everything is normal. You can’t be in love with your teammate. That would be crazy. It would be awful. It would be everything that everyone has ever said about female drivers, all confirmed. You’d get torn apart on the internet.
It’s not easy, though, because it’s Charles. Because he’s sweet and kind and handsome, and he cares about you. He doesn’t hate you. He wants to spend time with you, all the time. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but you think they’ve got it backwards. Maybe there’s a second part- presence makes the heart go crazy.
When you qualify in pole position for the first time in your F1 career, you have a panic attack. It’s a massive one, one that has your legs giving out and leaves you hyperventilating. It’s bad enough that Charles almost goes and gets George or Alex, but you beg him to stay with you, so he does. Eventually, he just wraps you up tightly in his arms and holds you there until you can breathe again.
“I’m not going to be able to do it,” you sniffle, as he runs his hand over your hair and rocks you from side to side. “I’m gonna crash on the first turn and then everyone is gonna be right, and I’ll lose my seat, and then-“
“No, amour, that is not going to happen,” Charles soothes, chest rumbling against you. “It is not. You are going to do just fine.”
“But what if I don’t? What if I can’t win, what if I don’t do it-“
“Then you will try again next time,” he says, so sure of it, like he can see the future. “You are starting on pole tomorrow. It’s scary, I know. But it’s just another race. You just… go out and give it your all. The same way you do every weekend.”
“You’ll keep them away from me?” You ask. Charles is starting third.
“No,” he scoffs, a laugh bubbling up from his lips. For just a moment, your heart breaks. Then, he says, “I will not need to. You will be so far ahead you’ll forget anyone else is even there.”
You laugh, press your teary face into his chest. “Shut up.”
…..
You check your rear views before the race starts, something comforting running through your veins when you see Charles behind you. You can’t see his face, can barely see his helmet, but you see the red. Then the lights go out, and he disappears in a blur. Give it all you got, you hear, unsure if it’s your race engineer or you or a voice in your head. You hold your breath for the first few turns, maybe for the whole first lap. And then your race engineer is talking about gaps and clean air and tire management, and you’re looking ahead, trying to see what car you need to try and pass next, trying to tell if you’re in DRS range, and then-
There’s nobody in front of you. Clean air. You’re in first. You’re leading the Grand Prix.
When you come careening over the line at the end of the race, when you see the checkered flag first, when you spot your crew on the pit wall, you swear your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Your race engineer is yelling in excitement. You think you’re yelling too, but you have no idea what you’re saying. It doesn’t matter.
You pull the car into the first place slot and climb out. You have to wrack your brain to remember what you’re supposed to do- it’s been so long since you’ve won a race, back when you were still in F2. Hug the team, get weighed, shake hands, grab the hat- Someone grabs your arm. You spin around and come face to face with Ferrari red. Charles.
He pulls you into a tight hug. Your helmets knock together. He’s saying something, over and over again.
“-told you, I told you, I knew you would do it,” he says. “I’m so proud of you.”
Charles takes your helmet and balaclava for you when you finally get them off. He takes his off too, and his face is red, dimples deep as he grins at you. He’s finished 7th, he tells you. Got passed in the first lap and never recovered.
“-told you you didn’t need me defending,” he says, and you’re laughing, shoving his shoulder. “You did so fucking good-“
The butterflies are going crazy in your stomach. You want to kiss him. The helmet has left a little indent on his cheek- you want to run your finger over it. But there are so many cameras and people watching, and suddenly you’re being pulled away from him, sent to the cool down room. Then it’s shaking hands with Max and Lewis again, watching the race highlights, basking in the excitement of it all. There’s the podium, the champagne, the trophy that you don’t let go of until you get back to the Ferrari garage. The giant group photo with the trophy, more champagne dumped over your head, Charles lost in the sea of red somewhere. It’s all such a blur.
You finally stumble back to your driver’s room, in a rush to change out of your race kit and grab your stuff. Someone has rented out a bar- they apparently did it when you qualified on pole, and didn’t tell you for fear of jinxing it. You text George and Alex, tell them where to meet you. With your stuff in hand, in a pair of sweatpants and a Ferrari sweatshirt, you finally stop and look in the mirror.
F1 Grand Prix winner.
There’s a knock on the door. You open it and find Charles standing there, in a very similar outfit. The line on his face has faded, but his hair is still a mess. You step back from the door and give him room to step inside. He’s staring at you, a soft look on his face. You’re holding your breath again. It’s the first lap. You just have to make it through the turns, get out ahead into clean air. His lips are parted, eyes wide and sparkling.
His hands are shaky when they cup your face. Yours are even shakier when you fist your hands in his sweatshirt. But the kiss he pulls you into is steady and sure and true. You melt into him, shoving your hands under his sweatshirt as he pulls you close with an arm around your waist. You reach up, thread your fingers through his hair, let his tongue slip into your mouth.
When he pulls away, his eyes are wild.
“We have to go,” he says, squeezing your hip. “You have a party to be at. Also, you are so pretty.”
You can remember the way he looked at you at the start of the season. How you thought the fire in his eyes was going to burn you alive. You’d stoked your own fire to burn him up first. Now you’re blazing, and you never want the fire to go out.
“I can’t believe I thought you hated me,” you say, muffling a laugh into his chest. “You’re coming to the party, right?”
“Of course,” he says. He cups your face in his hands again and presses another kiss to your lips. “And tomorrow, you are coming on a date with me, right?”
You laugh, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Of course.”
“Perfect,” he says, kissing your forehead and then letting you go. “Come on, winner. You have so many people waiting to buy you drinks.”
…..
When you walk into the bar hand in hand with Charles, Lily slams her hand down on the table.
“Pay up, boys,” she says, a wide grin on her face.
“Never in a million years did I see that coming,” George says.
“I’m never betting against Lily ever again,” Alex adds.
Max leans down over the table, holding his hand out, too. George and Alex groan and start pulling cash from their wallets.
“Hate and love,” Max says, a smirk on his face. “Very thin line, huh?”
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