#it keeps running through my head how many people i thought loved me want me dead
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🎲 i wish for a good kiss Prompt
30. Kiss to the palm of the hand
Let Me Help. Baizhu.
Word count: 1,700+
Can you tell I love him and hate him at the same time? Fucking bitch-
His hand was shaking. Trembling under the effort to keep his arm up in the air, like it was the greatest war of the century, he was fighting. Would people shout, fill the air with their screams as blades, unlike the one he was holding, clashed?
“I can help,” you offered, hand outstretched to take the razor away from his grip. To free him of the blade you have been questioning since the moment he picked it up.
A part of you was expecting it to slip out of his grasp, to fall to the floor with a clatter, but it still came to no surprise Baizhu tried to hold it as tight as he could. Or, rather, as tight as he could right now.
“I am fine, my petal.” Baizhu insisted.
“Truly?”
For a moment, Baizhu didn't say anything in response, lips pressed together in a thin line as he no doubt mulled over what words he'd pick out this time.
If he would say any at all.
Most likely because he didn't want to, not when all that would come out of him was another lie. Fibs, he liked to call them, like that made it any better. A habit of his that had started far too many fights whispered under both your breaths in an attempt to make sure Qiqi stayed asleep as heated words passed in the middle of the night. Her head nestled into a pillow, completely unaware of you pleading for Baizhu to stop lying to you. To himself.
He opened his mouth again, mouth agape as he decided on the words: “I can manage this.”
In the end, he was still lying to himself.
“Fine.” You said, taking a step back to allow him some room to breathe. It wasn't far, but the thought of leaving him like this just because you were upset was imprudent. And far too cold.
Baizhu went back to what he was trying to do before. Razor in hand as he stared at the mirror, reflecting back the stubble dotting his chin and current sickened state. One you knew he hated to see.
To let you see.
It had been a big deal- still is, actually- when Baizhu first let you into the backroom during one of his episodes. Not even Qiqi was allowed to see him in this state for more than a few seconds as she brought him trays of tea and occasionally lotus shoot soup. His eyes would be hollow behind those golden glasses, sweat covering his skinny form as he shook in place, lips tinted in a red that you knew was anything but lipstick as he tried to manage a smile for you.
At the time, you wanted to hiss at him to stop with the act, but you knew better. The act was, sometimes, the one thing keeping him together.
So you kept your mouth shut that first time you saw him coughing up blood into the bucket he kept by the bed. Bit your lip until you were sure it was raw as you watched. You could do nothing but be there for him. Hand running along his back, pulling Baizhu's hair out of the way, helping him drink the tea so there was the taste of something pleasant on his tongue as you whispered about how would make it through this.
Sometimes, you thought you were a liar yourself when those words were spilled.
“It's rare for you to see me unshaven, isn't it?”
For you could never know when Baizhu had fully reached his limit until it was too late.
“It is.” You agreed. Voice short and curt even as you told him you can help.
Tentatively, he lowered the razor. Having looked up at you for a moment before shaking his head. “You still knick your own legs, my dear.”
“That hasn't happened in like a month.”
With a huff, you looked back over at the sleeping snake, all curled up in a coil of her own making as she tried to recover from the long night. Unlike you, she didn't have the luxury of getting to pass out as Baizhu coughed and wheezed. Even then, he still tried to run his hand through your hair, easing you as Changsheng kept him stable the entire night long.
A hypocrite you wanted to call him. Just like how you want to tear that contract of his to shreds. To toss it out into the rocks right outside the pharmacy like the world's worst confetti every time he uses a power that would have him stuck inside paying the price.
He was far too generous. With his time, with his effort, with his very own life, for Baizhu was a man who would tear off pieces of himself and give them out with a kindly smile.
Philanthropic to a fault, but that was part of the reason you fell in love with him in the first place.
That day, the patient had walked away with a pep in their step, and Baizhu had fallen into bed.
Just as it always went.
Cut from your own thoughts with a startle and a small gasp you looked down to find Baizhu had reached out to you. Holding onto your ring finger to trace over the jade wrapped around it, a snake motif etched into the stone that was currently hidden behind his thumb as it traced over the pattern. “Petal?”
“Yeah, wifey?”
You couldn't help the grin that came from you as he laughed. His joy always proved infectious even if it was cut off by a loud and sudden cough.
Whispers of apologies came from you as you fetched him a glass of water. Raising it to his lips and you helped Baizhu drink down what he could even as shaving cream got on the rim of the cup. It matters little, anyway. Having to spare some time to clean it up was nothing compared to what he went through for others.
“Sorry, Bai, I know better than to make jokes when you're like this.”
“It's quite alright.”
“No, it's-”
“But my petal, ‘wifey?’” He hummed. Even when his voice was hoarse and broken from every wretch, it truly had such a melodic nature to it. “We're not even married yet, and you're already calling me such a lovely name?”
“Please, it suits you.”
“And shall I call you husband?”
“Well…” Just the image of Baizhu coming up behind you in the pharmacy as he works, trying to maneuver around behind you with a jar full of dried herbs in hand and a kiss being pressed to your forehead as he says ‘excuse me, husband’ certainly did something to you. Even if that something was just amuse you. Surely, those on the older side lingering around would raise a brow at the sight.
“Just drink your water.”
Leaning against the counter, the corner of the material pressing into your rear, you looked back down at the floor. Staring down the scuffs in the polished wood. Something so beautiful that has been torn apart, shaped into what was demanded of it. The wood didn't have a choice, but he did.
Baizhu always did.
“Did anyone drop off any shoutao bao this morning? Last week, there was some in the usual stock of gifts left right outside, and I must admit to craving-”
Just like he was choosing to distract you. To make it easier for you to stand here with him.
“You can't eat like this. We both know that.” You huffed, only to regret it a second later. A sigh “Look. Just…Cmon Bai.”
Baizhu pulled the razor away from his face. Only one line had been dragged across his chin, and it had taken the time of this entire conversation for him to gather enough strength to do so without risking cutting his skin. The silver shining in the low light of the lanterns. “You are just as stubborn as I am.”
“What's that Liyuan saying again?” You asked, mainly to yourself even if it caused Baizhu to glance over at you. “Dead ducks and something something.”
“‘Dead ducks’ is the full term. Though, to so readily imply I am beyond help isn't very nice.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
Grabbing his hand, you pulled the razor away, letting it rest on the counter for now. One can't plead their case if they feel they need to watch for any mishaps or slip ups. Now, can they?
“If I even knick you in the slightest, you can bring this very moment up to me and be like: ‘my oh so precious darling fiance, do you not recall what happened last time?”’
“Your accent is coming along, my petal. Give it a bit more time, and you might even sound like you truly do hail from Chenyu Vale.”
“I need it for every time I mock you.” You said with a scoff.
Raising Baizhu's hand to your lips you press a kiss to the center of his palm. To his fingers. To the spot right over his pulse. All while Baizhu watches, lips quirked up every time your lips met his skin. ‘I love you’ is repeated between each gentle kiss. Trying to give him all you could in this quiet hour that only you shared before he turned around and passed his own life out like candy. Again.
“You would normally call this guilt tripping or bribing if I pulled the same thing.” Baizhu pointed out.
“That's,” another kiss, “because when it comes from you, it is.”
There was silence for a moment, just your breathing his short gasps for air, but it was interrupted all too shortly as you could hear the sound of the razor against the counter again as its picked up. Sliding over that smooth surface for only a moment. You were about to take it back, snatch it, and hold it out of arm's reach, but he was already speaking before you could interject.
“Then this once, my dear. However-”
“If I do knick you, you'll hold it over my head for months?”
There was that grin again, teeth poking out from his chapped lips. You'd have to urge him into drinking more water soon enough. The little he got down clearly wouldn't suffice, but for now, all you could do was hold the blade to his skin.
Trust was such a hard thing for you two, having to work around lies and wishful thinking on both your ends. It was something to work on. Built day by day like a house being slowly erected. Walls being raised to stand tall, windows to be put in, insulation, a roof. But first, you have to start from the ground up, and you swiped the razor along his skin for the first time.
“So, wifey?”
“Baizhu, I swear to Morax, you better shut up and let me work.”
#hoyoverse#genshin impact#genshin x reader#x reader#genshin impact x reader#gn reader#baizhu x reader#baizhu x you#baizhu x y/n#baizhu#banner by cafekitsune
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@daboyau
@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy
@iobsesswaytoomuch
@sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist
@dluebirb
@burritello3000
Mikey screams again, falling backwards in an attempt to get away.
Leo’s mask tilts and stares him down with the black, soulless part that covers his eyes.
Mikey scrambles back until his shell hits a wall.
“What did you do!?”
Leo’s head turns towards the blood on the floor before he looks back at Mikey.
“It’s pretty clear what I did. Do you need to see it again?”
Mikey shakes his head almost immediately.
“I-Is he-“
“Dead? That’s up to him. If he’s not stubborn and gets himself treatment from an actual doctor instead of trying to fix himself up with his fake degree.” Leo says, voice dripping with disdain.
Mikey did not see any of this coming.
Not by a long shot.
“I-I thought you were working for him-“
“That’s what I wanted you to think! That’s what I wanted everyone to think! Including him. I was biding my time until he finally showed me what I needed.” Leo picks up Mikey’s mask from the floor.
Mikey’s eyes follow the movement.
“The mask…?”
“How to make it. That’s all he was good for. Now we can really complete the set!”
Footsteps signal the arrival of two more people.
Mikey looks up in horror.
Raph and Donnie.
Leo’s body language seems giddy as he twists around to look at them. He sets the mask down on a table.
“Took you longer than I thought to show up!”
Raph snarls at him.
“You come after us for not followin orders and then merc the boss? We ain’t just sitting by and takin it! You’re gonna bring him back and then you’re gonna take punishment.”
Donnie holds out his hands, they’re gloved and letting out sparks.
“Oh please, let me do it.”
Leo’s body shakes like he’s laughing hysterically, but no sound comes out.
“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say it’s Draxum making you so stupid! You’re outnumbered!”
“Check your math, inferior. There’s four people in this room.” Donnie corrects.
“And only one person fighting a winning battle.” He shakes more.
“Quit playin games.” Raph hisses.
Leo finally let’s out the manic cackling that’s been building up.
“But I love games! I want to play the one where you guess how many bones I’ll break!”
“No! Leo! Don’t!” Mikey screams.
“Aww, of course Leo won’t.” He promises.
Raph comes at him first, fist cocked to connect with Leo’s jaw. Leo doesn’t move an inch, opening a portal right in front of him. Another portal opens next to Donnie, causing him to get hit hard enough to make a dent in the floor when he falls.
“Artemis will.”
Mikey screams again. His throat is starting to hurt from how much he’s doing it. He stands up and tries to get to Donnie, but Leo shoves his arm hard across his plastron.
“You know that feeling of wanting to help that you keep making everyone else’s problem? Take it and shove it down deep inside or I’ll make you, got it? SUCK IT UP ALREADY!” Leo hisses, moving his hand grabbing Mikey’s head before tossing him to the ground again.
Mikey lands on his shell, yelping in pain.
Raph goes into a frenzy.
He starts attacking without any real strategy or direction. Raph just wants to hit him. Leo ducks and weaves, not moving quickly, but just enough to keep Raph’s attention trained on him and only him.
“What’s wrong, Atlas? Afraid for them? Ah ah ah, what did you just say about not behaving correctly?” Leo hops back.
Mikey doesn’t have a single clue about what to do right now. Is Leo on his side? Should be help Raph and Donnie? He can’t exactly escape, Leo is way too fast and ready to hurt him if he tries.
Can he really just watch and do nothing?
Does he have a choice?
Leo hides his hands behind his back and makes another portal. Mikey can see how he slows down slightly, hands appearing in a portal again. He doesn’t know what he’s doing until he sees the movement of Donnie’s gloves being pulled off his hands.
Raph slashes at Leo with sharp claws only for his body to start jolting at the electricity running through it. Leo has a glove pressed to Raph’s neck and holds it there until the snapping turtle falls to a knee.
“This is the way you’ve always been, huh, Atlas? Stubborn to a fault, and for what? Nobody appreciates what you do. A defender, a protector, former leader, wasted in a rage filled beast who can’t bare to be alone. Go to sleep. I’ll be taking over the show.” He presses the other glove to him.
Raph falls over completely, twitching.
Leo tosses the gloves into yet another portal.
Donnie pathetically drags himself over to Raph once he has an ounce of consciousness and lays over his arm.
Leo giggles, the sound echoing in Mikey’s ears.
This isn’t Leo. It’s not by a long shot. It isn’t Draxum either, it’s a completely different evil that’s more heinous than anything they’ve encountered before.
Whatever it is has his brother under its grip.
He can’t get anyone back if Leo is like this. He won’t let him.
An idea pops into his head.
There’s one thing Leo has tried to stop this entire time, even when it hasn’t made sense, especially when he said he wanted it to happen.
While Leo is distracted by having Foot ninja come in and remove their injured brothers, Mikey shakily grabs the mask.
Leo quickly spins around as he hears metal move off the table. His head tilts once more.
“Icarus, what do you think you’re doing?”
Mikey swallows hard, hands still shaking as he holds it in his hands. He can feel the evil radiating off such a deceptively cute mask.
“Y-You don’t want me wearing this yet. T-Tell me what you’re planning. Wh-Why you’ve gone against Draxum. Wh-Who’s actually in control!”
He wishes that he could be as tough as nails as he needs to be when demanding such a thing, but it’s so hard to muster that after what he’s seen and who he’s talking to.
Leo stares at him.
Mikey feels his nerves on absolute edge.
Leo starts circling around him.
Mikey gets the odd sensation of being a fish in a fish bowl while a cat tries to figure out a way inside.
Or a way to get the fish out.
“Finally….” Leo mutters.
“What…?”
“FINALLY! I’ve been trying to rip your heart out from your brain this whole time! You still went way too soft but I can work with that!”
Leo grabs Mikey’s arm and starts pressing the mask closer to his face.
“Leo!”
“What!? I thought you wanted to threaten me! Take a good look at what’s going to happen to you!”
Mikey barely manages to keep the mask from being put on. He’s always been strong, but Leo is on another level right now. He shouldn’t be able to do this.
Mikey can see the tendrils reaching out towards him. It makes him sick to his stomach. This is the last thing his brothers saw before they lost themselves.
Think Mikey, think!
He said he wanted everyone to assume he was working for Draxum, but why? He said he needed to know how the mask is made to complete the set, but his mask finishes it!
Doesn’t it?
Why didn’t he want the mask on him before?
Why didn’t he hurt April or dad?
Why isn’t he trying harder?
Is he….stalling…?
His eyes widen as he pauses his struggle.
“You….you want to mask them too!?”
Leo rips the mask away.
“Ding ding ding! You finally get something right! That’s all I’m going to give you. Want some bonding time? No? Too bad.”
Mikey feels the ground under him vanish as he falls through a portal. He lands on a cement floor and groans in pain. His eyes are drawn to the bars in front of him. Leo really put him in a cell. He’s gone full supervillain, if that wasn’t obvious enough already.
Directly across from him, he sees that Donnie and Raph have their own, separate cells. It makes sense he’s keeping them apart. The way they are, they’d probably attack on sight.
Can those bars hold Raph back?
He hates how he has to hope they can. It’s not right to be this scared of his oldest brother. That’s only reserved for when he’s truly angry, lecturing about missed training or reckless behavior.
Raph is supposed to be the one who makes a scary world so much more bearable. The moment Mikey goes into his shell he knows who will be one of the first to grab and hold it tight, not letting go and silently promising to take care of him when he’s too overwhelmed.
He’s taken it so much for granted. He knows that. Mikey always assumed that he’d just have Raph doing things for him for….ever. He thought he’d always have Raph period.
His eyes move to Donnie next.
He’s still out cold.
When will he wake up?
He will wake up, right?
Raph hit him pretty hard.
Donnie would probably hate Mikey thinking like that. He doesn’t want to be seen as weak. He already covers up the shell he was born with to ease the anxiety of having it at all.
Donnie wishes he was as gruff and tough as he tries to make himself out to be. Behind every evil laugh and joke about hurting his brothers, there’s a longing to be more connected to them. To understand each other.
Mikey starts whining and whimpering. Two of his brothers are right there in front of him and he feels more alone than ever. He can’t be brave. It’s impossible.
“…Icarus…..” A soft hiss draws his attention back.
Mikey rushes to the bars, grabbing them and pressing himself close enough to squish his face.
“Donnie! Donnie, are you okay!?”
He’s sat up, gripping the bars tightly himself.
“What do you think!? That pathetic, sniveling rat avoided punishment now but I will make him understand what it means to suffer!”
Mikey sighs.
Really, what was he expecting?
“You sat there and did nothing! You coward! Weakling!”
“Leave him alone….” Raph grumbles from his place on the floor.
Of course he’s-
Wait, what?
“R-Raph?”
“Ica-….Mikey….”
Mikey gasps, desperately reaching his arm through the gaps. Raph is way too far away for him to actually ever reach him but he wants to try anyways.
“Raph! Raph! Are you actually you!?”
Raph grips the mask on his face. It’s slightly loose, he attempts to pull on it but it only earns him a loud grunt in pain.
“I-I’m tryin to be. I-It’s hard.”
“It’s okay! It’s okay, I know you can do it! I just need to know how! You have to tell me why your mask is loose!”
Raph grumbles, still in pain and unable to think as clearly from the damage done to him.
“Shock, the shock, made….made everything hurt….it started….making it let go….but it’s coming back. It’s healing. It wants me back.”
“No! You have to fight it! Don’t let it take you again, please! I need you! I can’t do this by myself!” Mikey pleads, near tears.
Raph smiles at him. It’s genuine, but pain is written all over it.
“You….you can, Mikey. I know you think I d-don’t trust you, y-you think I won’t let you go on your own because I-I look down at you, but i-it’s not why. It’s m-me. I’m scared. F-For you. I….want to protect you….I need to….I have to….I believe in you!”
Mikey’s tears flow freely now.
He’s losing him.
Again.
He blinks the tears away hard as he watches the mask slip itself more into place, taking his brother away and leaving something awful instead.
Raph hisses and clicks, Donnie responding to it in turn.
Mikey knows now what he has to do.
It will hurt them, it’s going to be incredibly difficult at best, and it might kill him at worst to try.
He still has to to try.
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#these are not our masks fic#tw angst#tw electrocution#2018 tmnt#rise of the tmnt#tmnt 2018#rise fanfiction#rottmnt fanfiction
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I keep trying to write an update and then being embarrassed about it and feeling like I’m trauma dumping on people by updating and I just..I know it’s on me to manage my crap, I know. I am trying (not very well but I’m trying) and it’s just…I don’t know. I don’t even know.
#please know i have thought about hospital but hospital would#genuinely make it worse (like I cannot even tell you how much worse)#i think I’m legitimately just…having a trauma reaction on top#of a jewish trauma spike#and dentists and having to move (I may have cleaned till I shook today also my arm#does not look great#i feel like i don’t actually verbally have the words#(i have tried not engaging i have tried engaging they both feel awful)#(hashem i don’t know would you even embrace me would you…)#(it’s not a meds thing (I take meds for mdd and I know what that looks like and this isn’t it)#(it’s hard to explain the difference between CPTSD and like a panic attack or a depression)#(except that I feel like I’m so so tainted and not in my body or if I’m in my body I’m in my body somewhere else#abuse cw#i didn’t ask for this cptsd and no tshirt was offered#this will disappear probably#UGH#(i am seeing my therapist tomorrow i just..i know i need to reach out to)#(to like my current landlords and ask if I could just pay for a cleaning service to come in)#(i know i need to be like ‘unfortunately my CPTSD is Fucking Terrible Right Now and I need)#(just a bit of grace apologies)#(i do not want my parents to know i do not want that)#(aside from the fact that I am already a burden to them anyway)#a stupid flop of a person i am crying thinking about how i had plans for kids and a wife and travel and…I’m nothing#(everyone else is something I’m not I don’t deserve grace lbr)#it keeps running through my head how many people i thought loved me want me dead#and it’s like I can fake it so well#(i don’t know I may be like sending words to people)#to run through the steps of not being alone#i’m truly sorry i am always not taking accountability and playing the victim and clinging to people#to get reassurance i don’t deserve that its a good person it isn’t it isn’t a person
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.
#girl i have so many teshes thoughts its INSANE#me starting with haha actually this ship has no basis i just want to Put Tesilid Through It#but over the past few months of brainrotting their dynamic is now like.#what if we were doomed from the start and there was never anything either of us could do to save the other#(not even talking about the regression but rather the stigma bearer thing and how they have no social power)#(but also the regression thing)#what if we loved each other throughout all the lifetimes but there could never be a happy ending. tragedy dogs our footsteps#what if we were 'guy who has a good head on his shoulders and recognises our low social positions and looks out for his friends in similar#predicaments' x 'guy who is way too giving and this is bad bc the world is out to get him and he loves ppl too much to care about#the danger to himself'#what if we were 'guy who is way too giving' x 'guy who wants to protect him but Cant'#doomed ships.....#swings hestio around i like you SO much. i need to put you under a microscope and in a fish tank#(statements that should not ever be viewed by people outside of tumblr)#some of my fic outlines has notes that are like 'wow if they had the transmigrators privilege this wouldnt even have been a problem'#and im suddenly very appreciative of canon#god bless canon tesilid may you be happy. not my fanfic tesilid though im making him miserable#anyway. the more i think about it the more interesting hestio's internal conflict could be#it's about being so acutely aware of how shit their lives already are that he knows having a r/s that is frowned upon would just#make things worse#also i am very much hooked by the fact that like. nowadays i keep seeing ship posts about 'killing myself in front of you to change the#trajectory of your life forever'#for teshes its the opposite. hestio is desperately trying to make sure tesilid doesnt off himself#and also its not hestio dying that changes the trajectory of tesilid's life forever it's hestio confessing#and somehow this inflicts more pain on tesilid in the long run#which is extremely funny bc for all the notes that ive written abt teshes hestio has only confessed like umm. checks notes. 3 times#1. drunk (tesilid is not in the room) 2. the world is ending#like if hestio had managed to take this to the grave like he had originally planned then this could have been avoided#but the tragedy is that tesilid lives thru this multiple times so at least ONE time hestio's going to blab and that forever changes things#crying in fic writing being stupidly hard
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The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 2:
Yandere Bully Gives You Rules to Follow
Part 1
[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Blake, the school bully who often elicited terrified looks and sent people scurrying to safety, had for some reason claimed you as his.
"You're mine."
That phrase that Blake had growled to you kept replaying in your addled brain over and over.
You didn't exactly know what that meant. However, given your status as the school's resident nerd, you figured that you were meant to be his sole victim for relentless teasing and harassment.
Yet, there you were: Your hand trapped in a deathgrip from none other than Blake.
The rest of the student body cast disbelieving glances towards the two of you, many of them dropping their jaws in shock at the sight of the terrifying bully and the school nerd walking hand-in-hand.
"The fuck are you lookin' at?" Blake spat at some of them, momentarily letting go of your hand as he did so-- only to wrap a possessive, heavy arm around your shoulders.
The terrified glances from the fearful students flickered from Blake to you before diverting altogether.
Your face burned bright hot and the tiny voice in the back of your head told you to run as fast as you could. You totally would've too, had you not been trapped in the hold of the school bully.
You were too busy panicking on the inside to notice when Blake stopped at your locker, did your combo to unlock it, snatched your Pre-Cal textbook out of it (your first class), and led you towards class.
"Wait," you gasped when you finally put two and two together, "how did you know my--?"
"Give me your phone," Blake grunted as soon as the two of you were at your first period class. He stopped right near the door where the rest of the class could easily see you (and quite a few of the nosey ones were gawking), holding out his free hand expectantly.
Oh! This must've been it.
All Blake had really wanted was your phone.
You mentally berated him for being so weird and cryptic if all he'd wanted was a free phone; but you figured that going without a phone for a bit was leagues better than dealing with the school bully twenty-four/seven; hence, you practically thrusted it at the guy.
Blake ignored your eagerness, still keeping one arm secured around you, trapping you tightly against him. You could smell his body spray permeating your senses and the heat from his larger body was overbearing. In fact, thanks to the unwanted proximity, you could clearly see how Blake towered over you and just how muscled he was-- he could easily manhandle you all day if he wanted (and he seemed to REALLY want to lately).
Blake somehow knew your passcode (1-2-3-4) and began to mess around with your phone using his free hand. Seconds later, he handed it back to you.
Before you could ask what was up, Blake quickly leaned down and--
Out of instinct, you jerked back.
Blake frowned and pursed his lips into a thin line. "That's two," he huffed. "I'll be here when class gets out."
"Wh-why?" you couldn't help but ask.
Blake rolled his eyes at you. "So I can walk you to your next class," he grunted, again making it sound like it was obvious. "I'll see you soon, my angel."
With that, Blake gave you a gentle push towards the classroom as he disappeared among the crowd in the hallway.
Throughout class, you struggled to concentrate on the lecture. The whole time, your thoughts kept drifting back to the scary bully who wouldn't leave you alone. Plus, you were hyperaware of the all of the stares from the other students, hearing murmurings involving Blake and you.
Midway through class, your phone vibrated and you glanced at the notifications to see a rather long text from Blake:
My Angel, here's a set of rules that I expect you to follow:
You belong to me and only me
No talking to any other boys
I will drive you to and from school
I will escort you between classes
You will call me every night no later than 9 PM so I can say "Goodnight"
Every weekend you will stay over at my place
I get to hold you whenever I want
You better tell me if someone bothers you or tries to take you away from me so I can have a "chat" with them
I get at least one kiss per day
Tonight I want you to start calling me "Daddy"
Follow these rules and I promise that I will take good care of you.
But disobey these rules and I will punish you. And you're already at two out of three.
See you soon.
Love you.
The blood drained from your face as you read and re-read the text from Blake.
This had to be some sort of sick joke. The school bully had legit just said that he loved you over text. He was lying... right?
Images of his past victims flashing into your mind: black eyes, people getting the crap beat out of them, relentless tormenting, threats of violence and bodily harm-- just hearing the name "Blake" was enough to send shivers down your spine.
Yet, when you really thought about it, Blake never had bullied YOU specifically...
Your phone buzzed again with another notification, this one with an icon that you didn't recognize:
YAN-Tracker: The location tracking app that let's you keep an eye on those most precious to you...
A tracking app?!
That's what Blake had been doing on your phone, downloading some sort of tracking app?
Instinctively, you went to uninstall it, but as soon as you tried, a notification box popped up, requesting a passcode.
You tried to enter in yours, only to be dismayed that it wasn't the correct one.
Your heart raced in your chest as you mulled over all that had happened recently-- all of the signs pointing to a horrifying realization:
Blake, the school bully, wanted you. And he wanted you badly.
Without another word, you quietly got out of your desk (leaving your phone behind), and tip-toed out of class, praying that Blake wouldn't see you making your escape...
To be continued...
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
P.S. the following have requested that I tag them in this update as of the posting of this! Thank you very much for reading and I hope you all enjoy this part! @eoryn-shit @paninibit @evan-trand @psychicglitterdetective @springkuinn @vinivave
#yandere boyfriend#yandere boy#yandere daddy#yandere x you#yandere x reader#obsessive love#possessive boyfriend#yandere bully#Blake#my oc#yandere bad boy#bad boy x nerd#bad boy#Blake the Bully
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Changing Lanes
Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc always thought he would spend the rest of his career racing in red. But you make him see that he deserves better than false promises and unrequited love
“Took you long enough,” you say, lounging casually on the small leather couch in Charles’ driver’s room, your fingertips tracing intricate patterns on the cushion beside you.
Charles raises an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh as he kicks off his shoes. “Every single time I see you, Y/N, you always have something to say.”
You linger on him. “Is it my fault you had to chat with the entire paddock before coming here?”
He smirks, crossing the room. “It’s called being polite. Something you could learn from.”
“Polite?” You scoff, feigning innocence. “Oh, like how Ferrari celebrated that P3 like it was a win? That kind of polite?”
Charles stiffens but he keeps his cool. “We take what we can get.”
You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Starting on pole and settling for P3? Charles, you deserve better.”
“I know,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze. “But this is racing. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way.”
You lean in closer, your voice dropping an octave. “It could, though. If you were with a team that actually valued you, that gave you a car worthy of your talent.”
He looks up, meeting your gaze with a challenge. “You mean Red Bull?”
A coy smile plays on your lips. “It’s not a secret that Dad wants you. And imagine … you, in a competitive car, and me, right by your side as your race engineer.”
Charles’ eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Tempting,” he murmurs, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But is this for the team or for you?”
“Can’t it be both?” You whisper back.
His breath hitches and he pulls back slightly. “This isn’t just about racing, is it?”
You hesitate. “I see how they treat you. How they let you down time and time again. But with us ... with me ... it would be different.”
He looks conflicted. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” You press. “With Red Bull, you’d have support, a competitive car, and … me.”
Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about what happens on track. It’s about the politics, the contracts, the media ... it’s all complicated.”
“You make it sound like an impossible puzzle,” you say, tracing circles on his wrist. You gaze locks with his, trying to convey everything you feel.
“It might be.”
You lean in, lips just inches from his. “Then let’s solve it together.”
He hesitates, searching your eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”
You smirk, confidence oozing from every pore. “Isn’t that what racing’s all about?”
Charles chuckles softly, the tension in the room slowly melting away. “You always have an answer for everything.”
“It’s the Horner in me,” you retort with a smug smile. “Besides, aren’t you tired of being just another pawn in Ferrari’s game?”
“It’s not easy. To just switch teams, to give up on something you’ve worked for your entire life.”
You reach up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Who says you’re giving up? You’d be making a choice. A choice to be somewhere you’re valued. Somewhere you have a real shot at the championship. With people who truly care about you and actions that reflect that.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just about the racing. There are so many other factors.”
“Like what?”
He opens his eyes, meeting yours. “Like us.”
You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“If I come to Red Bull … if I work with you … it changes everything. Our relationship. Our dynamic. Everything.”
You take a moment, absorbing his words. “We can handle it. We’re strong enough.”
He gives you a sad smile. “I wish I had your confidence.”
You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “You have me. Together, we can face anything.”
Charles looks at you for a long moment, his emotions raw and exposed. Finally, he speaks. “I’ll think about it. But whatever I decide … know that it’s not just about racing. I refuse to give you up.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What?”
You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “Never settle for less than you deserve.”
He smiles, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “Same goes for you, Y/N Horner.”
***
“I still can’t believe they forgot to remove the radiator blank,” you murmur, your fingers softly tracing patterns on Charles’ bare chest as he lies next to you in his São Paulo hotel. The dim light from the bedside lamp paints soft shadows on his face, emphasizing the frustration in his eyes.
Charles sighs heavily, turning his head to look at you. “Neither can I. Another race, another issue. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”
You lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t deserve this, Charles. You’re better than this. Better than them.”
He chuckles humorlessly, eyes closing. “It seems like it’s one thing after another.”
“Come to Red Bull,” you whisper, fingertips dancing down his arm. “You know it’s the right move.”
He opens his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Y/N, we talked about this.”
You press a gentle kiss on his jaw, speaking against his skin. “Hear me out. If McLaren overtakes Ferrari in the Constructors’ standings, you can activate your exit clause. You could leave them, Charles.”
Charles swallows hard, feeling the warmth of your breath on his neck. “And if they don’t?”
“Then we’ll buy you out,” you say confidently, trailing kisses down his collarbone. “Dad’s already spoken about it. We want you. I want you.”
Charles’ breath catches as your hands explore his torso but he tries to focus. “Equal status with Max?”
“Of course,” you assure him, pressing your body flush against his. “You and Max, racing side by side. Just think of the possibilities.”
He groans, both from your touch and the tempting offer. “A car designed by Adrian Newey ...”
You nod, “With plenty of oversteer, just how you like it. No more one-sided compromises.”
He laughs softly. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
You smirk, lips hovering over his. “Always. And instead of Xavi, you’d hear my voice on the other end of the radio, guiding you, supporting you.”
Charles captures your lips with his, deepening the kiss before pulling back. “You’re making it very hard to think.”
“That’s the point,” you whisper with a playful grin, your hands tugging at his waistband.
He bites his lip, trying to resist your charms. “But Y/N ... it’s not just about the racing. It’s ... it’s us. What happens to us?”
You cup his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes. “We fight together, we win together. Every podium, every championship, we celebrate together.”
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You make it sound so perfect.”
“It can be,” you promise, pressing soft kisses on his eyelids. “With Red Bull, you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And me.”
Charles smiles, caressing your cheek. “You’re very persuasive, you know?”
You grin. “It’s one of my many talents.”
He chuckles, capturing your lips once more. “I’ll think about it.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll still be by your side.”
He smiles, pulling you closer. “I know. And that’s what makes this decision so hard.”
***
“Absolutely unbelievable,” your father mutters, watching the replay of Ferrari’s disastrous double stack. “You would think they’ve never done a pit stop before.”
You nod, equally shocked. But your attention shifts as the familiar figure of your favorite Monegasque storms into the Red Bull garage, his helmet still on and visor obscuring his face. You can feel the fury emanating from him.
“Charles?” You question hesitantly.
He doesn’t respond to you but instead turns to your father, “Christian, can we talk? Now. Somewhere private.”
Christian looks taken aback by the intensity in Charles’ voice but nods. “Of course.”
Charles glances at you. “You too, Y/N. Please.”
You follow, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. Once inside the small office, Charles finally removes his helmet, revealing eyes red from restrained tears. He takes a moment, collecting himself before he speaks.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Charles exhales. “Every single time I think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find a new low. Today was the last straw.”
You approach him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”
Your father is equally sympathetic. “That was hard to watch. I can’t even imagine what it felt like.”
Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just today. It’s everything. I gave them everything. I wanted to win with them. For my father. For Jules.”
You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “They would be so incredibly proud of you. No matter what.”
He blinks back tears, voice strained. “I wanted to drive that red car to the top for them. But I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a team that clearly does not value me in return.”
Your father speaks up, “Charles, if you’re thinking of a change ... Red Bull is ready to welcome you with open arms.”
Charles looks up, locking eyes with him. “I know. And as much as Ferrari has been my dream, my home, I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with a team that values me. I want to join Red Bull.”
You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration but the look in his eyes tells you that he’s made up his mind. “Charles,” you whisper, stepping closer. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“It’s hard,” he admits. “But this is where my heart is telling me to go.”
Your father gives the two of you a moment, leaving the office to give you privacy.
Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you close. “I never imagined leaving Ferrari. But after everything, I know it’s the right decision.”
You wrap your arms around him, resting your forehead against his. “They will be so proud of you, Charles. No matter what colors you wear or what car you drive.”
He smiles weakly. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”
You pull back slightly, searching his eyes. “This is a big step. I don’t want you to regret anything. Are you still sure?”
He nods, determination in his gaze. “More than I’ve ever been.”
You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Then welcome to Red Bull.”
***
“I have to tell Ferrari,” Charles straightens, determination evident in his eyes. “I just need to get it over with. Will you come with me?”
“Of course.“
Charles grabs your hand, pulling you towards his driver’s room. “Wait here,” he says, going in and returning moments later with his Ferrari jacket. He places it over your Red Bull team polo, attempting to keep your allegiance concealed for now. You both then proceed to the debrief room where the Ferrari team is waiting.
Fred Vasseur begins his speech the moment you both enter, “This wasn’t how we wanted to end the year but looking ahead to next season—”
Charles cuts him off, “Actually, there won’t be a next season. Not for me.”
The room falls into a tense silence, all eyes on the driver who has given them his heart and soul.
“What do you mean?”
Charles takes a deep breath, “I’ve decided to leave Ferrari.”
Gasps fill the room. Fred’s eyes land on you, finally noticing the Red Bull logo peeking out from under the jacket you’re borrowing. “And you bring her, of all people, here to tell us this?”
Charles squares his shoulders. “Y/N is here because I asked her to be. This decision is mine and mine alone.”
Xavi stands up, “After everything we’ve done for you! This is how you repay us?”
You can’t hold back any longer. “Everything you’ve done? You mean the countless strategy mistakes, the endless car issues, the complete lack of support?”
Another team member cuts in, “This is not your place, Y/N!”
“It is today,” you retort. “I’m here to support my new driver.”
Charles’ voice shakes but he speaks with conviction, “I gave everything for this team. I bled Ferrari red. But I can’t keep doing this. Not when it’s clear that my effort and commitment is not matched in return.”
Fred’s voice softens. “Charles, we’ve had our challenges but we can overcome them together.”
Charles shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m joining Red Bull. My manager will send over the necessary legal paperwork as soon as possible.”
The room is filled with murmurs, disbelief evident on every face. Charles takes one last look around, his eyes filled with pain, and turns to leave.
You follow closely, feeling the weight of every step as you exit the debrief room.
The second you’re around the corner, Charles breaks down. He rests his forehead against the wall, tears rolling down his face silently. “I didn’t ... I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”
You pull him close and try to find the right words. “It was never going to be easy. But you did what you had to. For yourself. For your future.”
He turns to look at you, eyes red-rimmed but determined. “I just wanted to make them proud.”
You cup his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “They would be proud of you. Not for the badge you wear or the car you drive but for the man you’ve become.”
Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you stand there for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.
When he finally pulls away, he manages a weak smile. “Thank you. For standing by me.”
You squeeze his hand. “Always.”
***
***
***
Charles stands in front of the massive two-story trophy wall at the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes, eyes wide with wonder. “Ferrari would never do something so ... gaudy.”
You smirk, sidling up next to him. “And yet, you love it.”
“I do,” he laughs. “It’s … different.”
You lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, Ferrari hasn’t had all that much to exhibit in the last two decades. Not for lack of trying from the drivers, of course.”
He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cheeky.”
The two of you walk further into the factory. “So,” Charles draws out, “I was wondering if you could recommend a good real estate agent in the area.”
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would you need an agent when I have a perfectly good apartment we can share?”
“Really? Are you sure? I just … I wasn’t sure if you would want that and I don’t want to pressure you.”
You roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course I do, Charles. It’s not even a question.”
He smiles, the weight of the decision to move seeming a little lighter now. “Thank you.”
You wink, taking his hand. “Come on, let me show you around.”
As you guide him through the factory, he’s like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “This place is incredible,” he murmurs, running a hand along a piece of machinery.
You grin, pulling him towards the simulator room. “Wait until you see this.”
He steps inside, eyes immediately drawn to the impressive simulator setup. “Wow.”
You gesture for him to sit down, watching as he takes a seat, adjusting the settings. “Ready for your first sim run in the RB20?”
He nods eagerly, “Let’s do it.”
As he starts the simulation, you watch closely, monitoring the data and providing feedback. The two of you work seamlessly together, the connection between race engineer and driver already forming and growing.
After several runs, Charles steps out of the simulator, a huge grin on his face. “That was incredible! The car feels amazing.”
You smile. “I’m glad you think so. The team has put a lot of work into it.”
He pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “I can’t wait to get on track with you on the other side of the radio.”
You pull back, looking into his eyes. “Me too. We’re going to do great things together. I know it.”
He nods. “I know we will too.”
***
“I have to admit,” Charles says, eyes scanning the paddock, “I’m thankful that Mercedes and McLaren are between our motorhome and Ferrari’s. Makes things less ... awkward.”
You glance towards the distant red of the mobile Ferrari building, understanding the sentiment. “Must be weird being so close and yet so far.”
He nods, a hint of melancholy in his gaze as he looks at the place he called home for so long. “It’s bittersweet.”
Pulling him from his thoughts, you nudge him playfully. “Come on, Mr. Pole-Sitter. We have a race to prep for.”
Charles smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. “Always so professional, Miss Horner.”
You grin. “Only when it counts.”
The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage is electric. Mechanics and engineers hustle around, getting everything ready. The RB20 sits gleaming, waiting for its moment to shine.
Charles adjusts his gloves, taking a deep breath. “Feels different,” he admits, looking at you. “Being here, in this car, with this team. But a good kind of different.”
You lean in, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this. It’s just another race.”
He smiles. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in the hot seat.”
“True, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just listen to my voice and trust me.”
“I always do.”
As he gets into the car, you lean in closer to his helmet, your lips touching it’s hard shell. “And Charles? Stay safe out there.”
He looks at you and winks. “I’ll come back to you.”
The race begins with a burst of energy. Charles takes off from pole, holding his position as the field jockeys for placement behind him.
“Good start,” you say through the radio, your voice calm and composed. “Keep it steady.”
“Copy.”
The race is intense, with Charles and Max battling for the lead, their cars dancing on the edge of perfection. The radio chatter between the two of you flows naturally, filled with technical details, strategy adjustments, and the occasional personal quip.
“Feeling the heat from Max?” You tease after a particularly close call between the two Red Bulls.
Charles laughs breathlessly. “Just keeping things interesting for the fans.”
The race continues at a blistering pace, with Charles and Max pushing each other to the limit. But through it all, Charles remains in the lead, with you guiding him from the pit wall.
“Final lap,” you inform. “Bring it home.”
He nods, pushing the car to its limit. The cheers of the crowd grow louder as he crosses the finish line, securing his first victory with Red Bull.
“Amazing job, Charles! I knew you could do it!”
He lets out a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you, team. Thank you, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you all.”
The two of you celebrate the victory, and as the rose water sprays and the cheers of the crowd fill the air, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey together.
***
“You’re sure about the medium tyres, Y/N?” Charles asks nervously as he looks at the other cars lining up. “Everyone else is starting on softs.”
You nod confidently, tapping the race strategy on your clipboard. “Yes. The upside of using the mediums is it gives us flexibility. We can extend our first stint if needed, especially with possible rain on the forecast. While everyone else has to pit early for hards and then again for inters when the rain starts, we’ll only have to pit once. Trust me.”
He inhales deeply, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside. “I do trust you. It’s just ... Ferrari ... the strategies there ...”
“I know,” you interrupt softly, understanding the trauma and distrust years with Ferrari had instilled in him. “But this isn’t Ferrari. It’s Red Bull and we work differently. I’ve got your back.”
“Alright,” he looks into your eyes, finding assurance and conviction there, “let’s do this.”
The race begins, and Charles holds his ground well on the medium tyres, though the drivers running softs initially show quicker pace. But as predicted, the clouds soon darken and the threat of rain becomes increasingly evident.
“Stay focused,” you guide through the radio. “Remember the plan.”
He pushes on, expertly handling the streets of Monaco. The cars around him begin to lose grip and one by one they dive into the pits for hard tyres.
Charles keeps lapping. He moves up the order.
“You’re doing great,” you encourage. “Stick to the plan. We’re right on schedule.”
However, as the first raindrops begin to fall, panic sets in among the other teams on the grid. Those who just pitted for hard tyres are forced to pit again for intermediate tyres, losing precious time.
“Now,” you command, “Box this lap.”
He follows your instruction, driving into the pits, and with a flawless stop by his Red Bull crew, re-emerges in the lead.
The rain continues but Charles navigates the treacherous streets of Monaco expertly, maintaining his lead. When the chequered flag waves, it’s Charles who crosses the line first and finally claims victory at his home Grand Prix.
Tears of joy and relief pour from Charles’ eyes as he takes in the moment. “Thank you,” he says over the radio, voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe it. We did it in Monaco!”
You smile, tears in your own eyes. “We did. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”
He laughs, the sound full of pure joy. “You did. And I’m so glad I did. Thank you for everything.”
As he steps out of the car and jumps on its nose, arms spread wide, the crowd roars in approval, their prince finally crowned in his home race.
Then he rushes to the barriers and jumps into the cheering crowd of dark blue waiting for him. When his sweaty lips find yours surrounded by the celebrating Red Bull team, you take a moment to whisper a promise, “This is just the beginning. It will only get better from here.”
***
The season flies by in a blur of champagne showers. Heading into the Italian Grand Prix, Charles find himself leading the Drivers’ Championship with Max nipping at his heels.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Charles confesses, staring out at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. “This was home. I don’t know how they will react now that I’m no longer wearing red.”
You rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Many fans support the driver, not just the color he wears.”
He takes a deep breath and looks over the crowd. “The Tifosi are different. They bleed Ferrari red. I’m afraid they will see me only as a traitor.”
“You gave them your all,” you counter. “They’ve seen the struggles. They know why you left. They understand. Trust in them and in yourself.”
As the two of you make your way towards the paddock, the familiar chorus of cheers fills the air. But instead of the jeers and boos he feared, a chant begins to rise among the crowd of red: “Charles! Charles! Charles!”
Charles stops in his tracks. “They’re ... they’re cheering for me.”
You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Told you.”
He’s soon swarmed by a group of fans, all clamoring for autographs, photos, and just a moment of his time. It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi remains unbroken.
An older fan steps forward, his Ferrari cap worn with age. “You are still Il Predestinato. We wish it ended differently but we have eyes. We watched the races. We know why you left. No matter what team you drive for, you always have our hearts.”
Charles blinks back tears, deeply touched. “Grazie,” he whispers and claps the fan’s weathered hands in thanks.
Another fan, a young girl with a homemade sign that reads Once a Tifosi, Always a Tifosi, shyly approaches. “We still love you, Charles,” she says.
He kneels down to give her a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking off his Red Bull cap and placing it on her head.
As the day goes on, the support from the Tifosi only grows. They cheer for him during practice, during qualifying, and every time he appears in front of the stands.
It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi is as strong as ever.
That evening, as the two of you sit in the garage looking over data, Charles reflects on his day. “I was so afraid,” he admits. “Afraid of being rejected, of losing their love. But today ... today was incredible.”
You close the analytics. “The Tifosi love you. Not because of the car you drive or the colors you wear but because of who you are. Just like I do.”
He nods slowly. “It’s overwhelming. Monza has always been special to me. To feel this level of love and support ... it’s more than I ever expected.”
You lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “They see your passion. They see how much you give on and off the track. Anyone who does not love and respect you for that needs to reconsider.”
He exhales slowly, “I just ... I wanted to make them proud, to win for them in red and bring glory back to Maranello. But knowing they still support me no matter what ... it means everything.”
You look up into his eyes. “And they always will. Because they know you always gave and will continue to give your best. They love you because they are loved in return.”
He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “For always being my rock, especially in moments like these.”
“Now let’s go out there tomorrow and win.”
***
“Vegas, baby!” Charles shouts, swinging an arm around your shoulders, both of you holding champagne glasses that have been refilled one too many times.
You giggle, distinctly feeling all of the alcohol you’ve consumed. “We won! We did it!”
Charles laughs, pulling you closer. “We did! And do you know what people do when they’re in love and win in Vegas?”
You think about it for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes. “Get ... married?”
Charles nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Y/N Horner, will you marry me tonight?”
You don’t hesitate, “Hell yes!”
The two of you, in your drunken stupor, begin your mission to find a wedding chapel. However, before you can get very far, Max spots you and quickly catches on to what you’re planning.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going with Y/N?”
Charles replies with a sloppy grin, “To make her Mrs. Leclerc!”
Max bursts into laughter, trying to play the voice of reason. “Mate, as much fun as that sounds, I think you might want to sleep on that idea.”
But you’re not having it. “No, Max! We’re in love and it’s Vegas. We’re doing it!”
Before the conversation can escalate further, your father joins the fray, looking both amused and concerned. “What on earth is going on here?”
Max chuckles, “Your daughter and Charles here have some ... ambitious plans for the evening.”
You pout and stumble slightly, “Daddy, we want to get married! Right now!”
Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Married? Tonight? Seriously?”
Charles nods with absolute seriousness, though his precarious swaying contradicts his tone. “Christian, I love your daughter. And we won. In Vegas. So ... wedding?”
Your father places a firm hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Listen, Charles, I have no doubt about your feelings for Y/N. But my baby girl deserves the world. When and if you ever decide to propose, I expect you to get down on one knee, stone-cold sober, and ask her properly.”
Charles blinks, processing the words. “But ... Vegas?”
You laugh and go to hug your father, almost falling over in the process. “He’s right. Let’s just enjoy tonight. And if we still feel like getting married in the morning, we can discuss it then.”
Max smirks, “Trust me, you’ll thank us in the morning. If you can even remember this conversation, that is.”
***
“Charles,” you begin, your voice echoing in his helmet, “The team has made the call. You and Max are free to race. No team orders.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood. May the best man win.”
The tension in the garage skyrockets as soon as the lights go out. It’s evident that this is going to be an epic battle from the very first turn. Max and Charles swap places multiple times, pushing their cars to the very edge of their limits.
“Breathe,” you remind him calmly as the laps go by, “Don’t loose sight of the race as a whole. There’s a championship at stake.”
The entire race is a blur of overtakes, pit strategies, and nail-biting moments. The two Red Bull cars battle wheel-to-wheel lap after lap. One side of the garage against the other.
Coming into the final laps, Charles is right on Max’s tail — the championship hanging in the balance between them.
You know there’s not much you can do to guide him anymore … it’s all up to Charles.
“Last lap,” you try to sound composed despite the pounding of your heart. “You can do this.”
The cheers and gasps of the crowd are deafening as Charles makes his move, taking the inside line and overtaking Max on the penultimate turn.
“Push now! Just a few more corners.”
As Charles crosses the finish line, the enormity of the moment crashes over both of you.
“Charles Leclerc,” you scream over the radio as tears stream down your face, “you are the World Champion!”
“Yeeeesssss! Yes! Yes! I ... I can’t believe it. This is ... thank you, everyone. To the entire Red Bull team, you’ve given me the chance to chase and achieve my dreams. To my friends, my family, to every single person who’s been by my side, believed in me, and supported me … thank you. And Y/N, you’ve been my rock and my oxygen. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you! Thank you. Thank you so much!”
***
“Whew! That was a lot of rose water!” Charles laughs, wiping the bubbly liquid from his eyes.
You chuckle and try to wring out your hair. “You didn’t have to drench me, you know!”
Charles grins cheekily. “It’s a special occasion, after all. Both of us on this podium? It’s a dream!”
Then suddenly, he turns serious and signals to his brother in the crowd below, who throws him a small leather box. Charles catches it and promptly lowers himself down on one knee in front of you, making the crowd fall into a stunned silence.
“I tried this in Vegas,” he starts with a laugh, “But I might have been too drunk and missed a few pretty important steps.”
Charles takes a deep breath and his eyes lock onto yours, saying everything that words would never be sufficient to. “Y/N, being on this podium with you, winning the World Championship, it’s the pinnacle of my career. But what we have ... it’s the pinnacle of my life. I can’t imagine going on this journey with anyone else, facing the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. Will you marry me?”
Tears flow steadily down your cheeks and you nod with a fervor that would make bobbleheads jealous, “Yes! There’s no one else I’d want to spend forever with.”
The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, the deafening roar echoing around the Yas Marina Circuit. Max gives a loud whistle, his face lit up with a big grin next to you on the podium stage.
Charles rises to his feet and pulls you close, attacking your lips as the crowd goes wild.
“Promise me we won’t head to a chapel right after this race?” You joke, sniffling and giggling at the same time.
Charles laughs, looking slightly sheepish. “I promise, mainly because I’m too young to die and your father would definitely kill me if I even thought about pulling the stunt we tried in Vegas again. You deserve a fairytale wedding.”
You press your face against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as fireworks explode overhead. “All I need for my fairytale is you.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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running your fingers through their hair
you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!
↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love
notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥
event masterlist
Itoshi Rin
“you remind me of a dog, you know?”
rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you.
“excuse me?”
his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair.
“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you.
“that’s absolutely not true.”
“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”
“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”
you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”
rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?
you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”
his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”
“no, you don’t.”
“i hate you. i’m serious.”
you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”
his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”
smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.
“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”
his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them.
“shut up.”
“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”
comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.
“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”
a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.
“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.
perhaps you were down bad, too.
Michael Kaiser
contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend.
despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.
or maybe it was just you. who knows.
whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions.
however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone.
especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear.
“liebling? you okay?”
it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.
but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.
you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.
“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”
his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.
eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.
“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.
“yeah. thank you, mikka.”
the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”
you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you.
you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”
his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?”
michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.
“yeah.”
Mikage Reo
reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.
“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”
“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”
your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen.
“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”
your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”
you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one.
“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”
before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more.
your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.
“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom.
“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”
though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes.
“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”
“hey!”
“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”
the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.
“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours.
“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”
your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining.
you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:
“it’s always been you, too.”
© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.
#LENA'S 1K FOLLOWERS EVENT#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk imagines#blue lock#blue lock fanfiction#blue lock drabbles#blue lock fluff#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#itoshi rin#michael kaiser#mikage reo#mikage reo x you#mikage reo x reader#reo mikage#reo mikage x reader#reo mikage x you#itoshi rin x y/n#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x y/n#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x you#michael kaiser x y/n#michael kaiser fluff#blue lock headcanons
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𝜗𝜚 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love ‘
𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!yn x oscar piastri ) oscar piastri is head over heels for his best friend, though he keeps his feelings a secret. he wins his first race in f1 and after seeing her cheering him on in the crowd he can’t hide his affections any longer.
𝜗𝜚… type , irl
𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3
𝜗𝜚… triggers , there is none
𝜗𝜚… authors note , my first f1 one shot! I'm really proud ngl and it's as cute as I was hoping! hope ya'll enjoy!
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist
all he could hear was his heartbeat in his helmet; it flooded his ears like static on a radio. After getting out of the car without a thought in his head, he stepped onto the car in front of the halo putting both of his arms into the air.
Adrenaline flooded his senses, his colorful helmet shined under the night race lights. The cheers were overwhelmingly loud as each voice blended together into the sea of people.
Subconsciously so, his ears searched for one voice in particular, one that was soft and comforting. The one he’d share a laugh with until three in morning. Or would tease him inexplicably. But the voice was stirred in with the rest.
Oscar stepped down from the car, and the first thing he did was run into the ocean of papaya. Many hands covered him, patting his back or helmet hearing many compliments on his win. After a minute or so of drowning himself in the praise and affection from his team he stepped away removing his helmet and placing it on a pedestal.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, it staying in place as he did so. A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned, seeing a man in a matching suit who pulled him into a hug. “Mate you did great.” He complimented, his voice directly in his ear.
The Australian didn’t realize how truly speechless he was until someone directly spoke to him. The words formed in his throat but never made it out of his mouth.
Lando pulled away with a light two taps on his back. “Thanks, maybe not pelting me with champagne could be a good job present.” Oscar jokes.
The Brit lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, “Oh c'mon you need the full podium experience-” Oscar’s attention on Lando was cut off, the voice.
The one he’d scanned for, moments before the voice had made itself known. She shouted his name from behind the short fence with the rest of the crowd desperately trying to get the man she’d known for most of her life’s attention. Oscar’s eyes searched the crowd, until they found her, he could’ve picked her out in any crowd his entire being always seemed drawn to her.
“Oscar!” His best friend. The only one he’s ever really known. Always supporting him, even today adorning herself in all papaya wearing a jersey he’d known for a fact had a huge eighty-one on the back (and might’ve been stolen from his closet), all for him.
Oscar rushed over, as soon as he’d spotted her after the race, he just knew he needed her in the moment. The calm, composedness of his being suddenly dissolved into the smokey air. Still with a small fence between them he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her into a tight hug. Her arms naturally floated around his neck, they fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces made just for one another. Camera flashes flooded their sudden embrace, and he lightly lifted her into the air as he tightened their hold on one another. They could’ve done the whole podium ceremony, everyone could have gone home and Oscar would’ve stayed here with his arms around her always.
“You did so well today.” Her voice was soft, the words only meant for him. She only wanted him to know how proud she was of him. How much her heart raced as he crossed the checkered flag, and how much support she’d carried with her for him through everything.
His impulsiveness took over as soon as he heard her speak, he wasn’t thinking about anything in that moment, not the cameras, the thousands of people that surrounded the pair, and certainly not the feelings he carried for her for many years; the feelings he kept deep down for too long, way too long. He only thought of her, the way her soft voice tickled against his skin and the flush it brought to his already red cheeks.
Placing a delicate but firm hand on her cheek which she covered with her own hand, her cheeks turning a light and kind shade of pink and a gentle smile formed from her lips. The lips Oscar just happened to notice how pink and heart shaped they’d been and how soft they looked compared to his own chapped ones.
Oscar slightly looked down and she’d looked up at him, her eyes seemed as if they were looking into him, as if she could’ve read his thoughts. Standing like this for a second, there was a moment where the Australian had contemplated, was he going to possibly ruin a friendship over his own feelings? Before he could even think about not doing it, her eyelashes fluttered warm and innocent and he filled the gap between them.
They were perfectly made for one another. They moved in sync, and she’d tasted of an orange mocktail and strawberry chapstick and everything that's made her, her. His thumb lightly stroked her cheek, and his arm snaked around her waist holding her tightly.
Both her arms ended up around his neck, smiling sweetly into the kiss and giggled lightly into the Aussies mouth. Not hearing the reactions from the crowd surrounding them.
When Oscar pulled away they’d both missed the warmth and comfort of one another. But realization hit him like a tidal wave, remembering all of his actions so clearly except for how her arms fit so perfectly around him, and the way she’d smiled at his affections.
His hand removed itself from her waist and mind started to race and he pictured missed calls, a missing eighty-one jersey in the crowd, losing the praise of a voice that motivated him to be better. He’d completely zoned out at this point and she’d used her hand placing it back on his freckled cheek and directing him to look at her. Of course she’d know what he was thinking.
She always did.
She’d looked up at him, a small glint in her eyes, that made Oscar wanna kiss her all over again but he held back, fear filling his chest so tightly he’d felt like he’d choke on it. He’d race cars at 300km/h without as much fear as he felt now.
Placing a hand on his other cheek, she stood on her tippy toes reaching his lips giving them a light peck. Her way of saying everything was gonna be okay. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and his arms comfortably made its way back around her waist and his hand slid up her back.
She looked up at him, anticipating him to make a move. Though she was impatient, she pulled his racing suit collar down and her lips landed on his once again. He gasped in between his lips, a small surprise of her sudden affection.
“I think I’ve always loved you.” He whispered into her mouth in between kisses, her heart shaped lips formed in a smile against his.
She pulled away, lightly biting his bottom lip, “you think I didn’t?” She grinned a light giggle leaving her lips.
It was like a candle had been relit in Oscar’s head, a candle that flamed only for her. A flame that reminded him how much he needed her, how much he’d been needing her. His arms tightened around her almost possessively so, he reveled in the taste and feeling of her, and how she finally knew that most of him was hers.
𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @miguelasdr @lcvelctters @cedarbcws
#𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ soamericns works!#friends to lovers is everything to me#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#lando norris#f1 fic#formula one fic#formula one fanfiction
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I would like Rafe to be jealous, possessive and protective. Everyone asks the reader to talk to him, because she is the only one he loves
Let Me Keep Beating Him, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: A Fight and Blood
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
Masterlist
Rafe knows that Y/N is a beautiful girl. He has eyes and her intelligence is obvious to anyone. He loves her with all of his heart, never planning on letting her go. What he doesn’t love is how other guys see it too. It’s not that he wants to keep her away from the world, he just doesn’t want to listen to Billy Peters talk about how he would rail Y/N until she screams for him to stop. It disgusts him. No girl should ever be talked about in that way, let alone his sweet Angel. Rafe pulls Billy back by the shirt collar. “Her name doesn’t belong in your pathetic mouth,” he growls. He doesn’t give Billy time to explain before his fist meets Billy’s face. He continues the assault, seeing red at the thought that Billy could ever think about touching Y/N in such a vile way.
The rest of the partygoers part for Rafe’s rage, many of them trying to get him off of Billy. Everyone is screaming at him to leave Billy alone because of the amount of blood coming from Billy’s wounds. Rafe doesn’t listen, focusing on protecting Y/N from Billy’s words. “Someone get Y/N” is the most heard sentence throughout the crowd.
——
Brittany MacDonalds runs toward Y/N in a huff, “Y/N, come quick. Nobody can get Rafe off of Billy.” Y/N immediately follows Brittany to the living room to find Rafe with bloody knuckles. Billy’s face is pleading profusely and she can see that he is about to pass out. Her warm touch on Rafe’s biceps stops him. If he continued, he might risk hurting Y/N. Rafe worries something is wrong with her and turns to her, letting Billy drop to the floor. His hands cup her face, “Are you okay, Angel? What’s wrong?” Her heart flips at his worry for her, but she remembers why she is here. “Rafe, why are you beating Billy up?” she says in a motherly tone. He gives her a kiss, “Billy was being a bad boy, saying the nasty things he wanted to do to you, Angel. I had to make sure he knew that was not okay.” “You could’ve done that without hurting him,” she points out.
He shakes his head, “You know the only thing that gets through to guys like him is a good smack in the head. So let me keep beating him, Angel. Yeah?” “How about I get him to promise never to say things about me again? Will you take me home then?” she questions, taking his hand into hers.
“Angel, that won’t work.”
“Well, I’m sure he got the message with the beating you already gave him. Plus, you can’t protect me if you go to jail because he presses charges.”
“You’re right, Angel,” Rafe turns to Billy. “If I stop beating you, I need you to swear you’ll never let Y/N’s name slip past your lips and that you won’t press charges.” Billy knows he is no match for the powerhouse that is Rafe Cameron, so he vigorously agrees with Rafe’s statement. Rafe motions for Billy to leave before wrapping his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and leading her out of the house. “You have to stop beating people up because of me,” she scolds, playing with the fingers of his hand on her shoulder. His lips find her cheek, “I’m sorry, Angel. It’s my duty to make sure these idiots know you are protected.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia
#let me angel#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron series#rafe#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction#outer banks rafe#outerbanks#outer banks#outer banks x reader#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#obx#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx fanfic#obx fic#obx x reader
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Your Tommy’s little pet and he takes you to the races with him and gets pissed when you try to run away from him and fucks you in a somewhat public place. And it makes you regret even thinking about trying to run away from him because he’s Thomas mf Shelby
OH you filthy little genius. i love this
warnings: DARK NONCON SMUT 18+ only, public sex, implied kidnapping/captivity, breeding kink, possessiveness
"Did you really think you could get away from me?" he growled in your ear. "Did you really think I'd ever let you leave me?"
"Tommy, please, n-not here," you whimpered, reaching back to try to push his hips away to stop him from fucking you so hard, "people are looking at us..."
He grabbed your hand and roughly forced it back in front of you, holding it down against the railing that looked out over the track. "Let them look, darling," he purred, "doesn't change a fuckin' thing... you're mine. If Tommy Shelby wants to use his woman, doesn't matter where we are or who's watching... m'gonna use you how I like."
You tried to hide your burning face in your arms, whimpering as Tommy drove into you hard and fast; he straightened himself, no longer draping his body over yours, and you felt even more exposed by that somehow. It would be obvious to anyone who looked what he was doing to you, and anyone who heard the loud clapping of skin on skin was going to look...
The more you avoided the thought of how many people must be watching you now, seeing Tommy take you so brutally, the more you were forced to think about how he felt inside you-- how his cock stretched you open and drove deep within you until your legs began to shake. If it weren't for his tight grip on your hips holding you up, you probably would've collapsed onto the dirty floor of the betting parlor.
One of his hands began to run up your back, fingers petting your spine through your thin dress-- over the roar of the race, you could still hear his low hum of satisfaction. Against all logic, your body responded to his touch so well, goosebumps breaking out across your skin wherever his fingers roamed. He leaned down over you again, wanting you to hear clearly whatever he had to say.
"When everyone knows you're mine, there's nowhere for you to go," he explained lowly. "There's nowhere you can run from me, love-- they all know you're my woman. And they know how far I'll go to keep you."
You shuddered, hating the moan that suddenly left your mouth-- and hating more that he heard it loud and clear, as he made obvious with his proud little chuckle.
"How about I breed you right here, hm?" he purred as he pet your hair out of your face, groaning beside your ear. "In front of all these people... how about I fill you up nice and deep you can have a little Shelby of your own?"
You figured he really must have no shame at all: it was bad enough that he was fucking you here, but to conceive a child at the race track? Would he stoop that low just to degrade you? But, then again, he'd been promising to get you pregnant since the start-- for all you knew, you already were.
You had plenty of shame, though; it ran through you and made your stomach turn, yet it made a pang of heavy pleasure hit between your legs. It took you this long to realize that the humiliation of being fucked in public like this was spurring on your orgasm, rather than hindering it. Apparently, Tommy had awoken something rather twisted within you...
"C'mon then, love," he groaned roughly, "let me feel you come for me-- say my name."
You whined, knowing from experience that you were better off doing as he said now before he forced you to. "Tommy," you moaned, but he
"Nice and loud, darling-- let them all hear you," he encouraged. "Say it!"
"Tommy!" you cried, tossing your head back as your walls pulsed around him-- you kept your eyes shut tight, terrified to see how many eyes were lingering on you. He moaned proudly through a smile as he came inside you, wrapping one of his arms around your neck to keep you still as he buried himself as far inside you as he could reach.
"Good girl," he praised as he caught his breath, kissing the side of your face sweetly. "I bet every man here wishes you were his, wishes he could make you scream like that. But every man knows exactly who you belong to... so they'll just having to keep dreaming, won't they?"
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby smut#dark!tommy shelby x reader#dark!tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby dark smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut
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— less is more
pairing: e-42!miles morales x fem!reader
contains: some tears, a little misunderstanding but a fluffy ending
summary: miles makes quite a bit of cash from his jobs, and with his love language being gift giving he often likes to spend a lot of it on you. however, you didn’t grow up with much, and this makes it especially hard for you to accept such expensive things from him without feeling overwhelmed. wc: 1,224
a/n: based off this request! some people might find this reader easier to relate to so i definitely wanted to write it
Gifts were something that came with the territory of dating Miles Morales. Big bouquets, flashy accessories, shopping sprees at the mall, and probably every single stuffed animal he’d ever caught you eyeing whenever the two of you went out. If you so much as looked at it, it was on your fire escape the next morning. At this point, you had so many on your bed that you were starting to run out of room to sleep.
And you knew he meant well, and you tried your best to enjoy it the way you imagined you should but it was all so foreign to you. Your life was much different before you met him, and it was more along the lines of nervously checking your bank account to see if you had enough cash to buy a five dollar starbucks drink to ‘treat yourself’, or if you’d have to wait till next week’s paycheck for blended coffee with some whipped cream on top.
Most of your clothes were hand-me-downs from your older siblings, or duds you’d secured from the Salvation Army a few blocks down on the colored-tag sale days, and that was the way you liked it. Humble beginnings is where you came from and humble was the way you intended to keep it.
So now as you stared down at the small jewelry box in your hands, Tiffany & Co embellishing the top in silvered letters, trepidation began coursing through you at the size of the box alone. Anything that came in a tiny package such as the one you were holding was bound to cost more than anything you’d ever managed to buy yourself. You realized you must have been lost in thought as you sat gawking at the untouched gift, because your boyfriend’s voice sounded like it was underwater the first few times he called out to you.
“Baby?”
“Hm?” You blinked, looking up at Miles from where you were seated on his bed to see him leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
“Go ‘head and open it, don’t leave me hanging.” Miles joked, brows bunched slightly in confusion.
“Oh— right,” you laughed half-heartedly. Swallowing hard, you gently pried the small box open with hesitant fingers to reveal the prettiest diamond necklace you think you’ve ever seen. Light glinting off the encrusted jewel, Miles waited with bated breath as he watched your hand tremble towards it, a choked inhale catching in your throat as you felt the weight of the pendant alone.
“Well?” he asked quietly.
“How much was this?” Your throat felt tight; uncomfortably so, like the air in the room suddenly wasn’t the kind you were meant to breathe.
Miles glanced to the side for a moment, then stood up straighter. “I mean, I paid for it if that’s what you’re asking...”
“How much was this, Miles?” Voice trembling when you spoke, you asked again but louder, and this time he knew you actually wanted an answer.
Confused because he didn’t take you for the materialistic type, he racked his brain for the memory of the total the clerk had read out to him and scratched his forehead.
“Like… three hundred and some change…maybe? Probably four? I don’t remember. Why does this matter?” He let out a peeved sigh, eyes widening as he watched your shoulders start to shake.
“Ay, mi amor, ¿que pasa? (what’s wrong, my love?)” Miles asked gently as he rushed to sit next to you, taking the jewelry box from your loose hold. He looked down at it disappointedly, lips pursing at the necklace he’d spent so long picking out. He thought you would’ve loved it. “You don’t like it? I can get you somethin’ better—“
“No, Miles. I… It’s perfect.” Warm tears rolled past your waterline and you wiped them away in a rush, aggravated that you were even crying in front of him about something like this. How could you explain yourself without sounding ungrateful or confusing him even more?
Miles licked at his dry lips as he tried to think of what to say. He was usually so good at reading your body language, but this time he was completely lost. You could see it on his expression when you looked at him that he was having a hard time understanding what was going on, and it only made you cry harder.
“No entiendo… (I don’t understand…)” He set the box down next to him and took your hands into his, head lowered to try and meet your averted gaze. “I’m lost.. If it’s perfect, then what’s wrong?”
You inhaled a wavered breath, the feeling of his thumbs rubbing the backs of your hands serving as encouragement for you to go on.
“I just…” taking a breath, your shoulders shrugged weakly. “You spending money on me like this, I— It feels like I’m using you. You should be spending your hard earned money on things for yourself, or… saving it for better things, not spending it on me.”
“Money is nothing to me when it comes to you.” he denied immediately.
“I know, and that’s the problem.” Your lips trembled, but thankfully you were able to prevent more tears from coming.
“Y/n, I—“
“Just, please. Let me finish.” You pleaded quietly, looking up to see him slowly nod at you. “I love you, Miles, and that means I love everything you do for me as well. But I’m not used to things like this.” you looked in the direction of the overturned jewelry box. “It’s a lot.”
Silence filled the space around the two of you. You felt incredibly guilty for even bringing it up, it was never your intention to make him feel this way. There was an energy shift and you could sense him regressing back to the version of him that once didn’t know how to express his love for you.
“I’m sorry.” he murmured simply. He didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t even understand, but he offered it to you anyway.
“No no no, Miles,” You guided his doleful eyes back to you with a hand on his cheek, your tone sincere. “I love the way you love me, really, I do. You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s not your fault— I’m just not that kind of girl and I don’t know if I ever will be. But the way I grew up and the things I’m used to have nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me, okay?”
He frowned slightly. “So… No more gifts, then?”
You shook your head. “Giving me nice things is how you show your love towards me, I know that, and it would be unfair for me to take that from you. I’d be crazy to not appreciate how you’re always thinking of me wherever you go.”
Chewing on your thoughts, you contemplated the best way to give your answer.
“Okay, so it’s like this,” you sat up a bit. “You could give me a rock, and I’d cherish it like it was the best thing in the entire world, simply because you gave it to me. What I’m trying to say is how expensive the gift is doesn’t matter, all that matters is that my wonderful—“ your head dipped to meet his avoidant eyes. “caring, and thoughtful boyfriend got it for me. I don’t care about the money, I only care that it came from you.”
Miles brightened a little at that, and started to put things together after your explanation. “So, I can still get you nice things, but… less is more?”
A melancholic smile touched your lips before you pecked his cheek. “Less is more.”
He picked the small jewelry box up from the bed. He understood you completely now, but was still a bit bummed. “Does that mean I have to return this?”
You immediately shook your head. “Of course not, baby. I love it, and I think it’s beautiful. Just keep what I said in mind for next time, okay?” He nodded and you turned your back towards him so he could put it on for you.
“Good, cause I kinda lost the receipt.” Miles smiled coyly at the slightly shaky laugh that sounded from you as he unclasped the necklace, draping it over your chest and fastening it.
You peered down at the gorgeous piece around your neck, gently gracing over it with your fingertips. Your heart warmed at the thought of him picking it out for you, how he spotted something this beautiful and needed you to have it. You had to admit, it was absolutely stunning and you didn’t think you’d be taking it off any time soon. Even if the price of it had almost sent you into shock, you were more than grateful to have a boyfriend like him.
“Thank you, Miles. I love it, really.” You faced him once again with your confession, the sincerity laced in your tone accentuating the adoration in your eyes. Your hand caressed the apple of his cheek, it raising when he smiled contently and leaned into your palm. “But I love you, more.”
#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales fic#earth 42 miles fluff#miles morales headcanons#miles morales x reader#miles morales x black reader#miles morales x fem!reader#across the spiderverse fanfiction#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 miles x black reader#earth 42 miles x reader
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I have a request, if you’re taking them
can you do a dwb!Matt where reader relapses badly, and he has to help her through her withdrawals
if not that’s totally cool, but I’m a sucker for angsts so I thought I’d ask
help you
dealer! matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: angst, drug addiction/ withdrawals, mentions of nausea, cursing
a/n -> please read with caution !!
i love you all and my dms are always open if you need to talk <33
MATT’S POV
“i’m fine, matt” she said for what had to be the millionth time.
she smacked my hand away with her own, while she attempted to pour water into a cup with her free one.
her hands were so shaky, she could barely get any of it in the cup. she let out a frustrated sigh, setting the pitcher down onto the counter.
“here” i spoke as i poured the water for her, handing her the glass.
“you hungry?” i asked as i grabbed a paper towel, cleaning up the spill.
“no” she spoke, moving her arm to her forehead to wipe the sweat that began to accumulate.
“when’s the last time you ate something?” i asked her.
“can we turn down the heat?” she asked, continuing to wipe her sweaty skin.
“the heat isn’t on, here” i spoke as i grabbed a washcloth, soaking it in cool water. i folded the washcloth in half, guiding her to sit down on the couch.
she placed the washcloth on her forehead, laying her head back with a sigh.
“is there anything you actually want to eat?” i asked, moving back towards her refrigerator. i was aware that she didn’t have an appetite, but she hadn’t eaten all day long.
“no, matt. i just don’t want to feel like this, i wanna go back to normal” she replied. “how long is this gonna last ? i don’t think i can take much more of this”
“hey, it’s ok. i’m gonna help you through this” i spoke as i made my way back to her, a granola bar in hand.
“no, you don’t get it. i feel like i’m dying, matt. my entire body aches, the thought of food makes me nauseous, i’m covered in sweat, and i’ve never felt weaker in my life. you wanna help? let me take something, anything. please, i need it matt” she looked at me with her eyes slightly widened, clutching onto my shirt.
i’d never seen her look so helpless.
“you know i can’t do that, baby” i spoke, grabbing her hand. “i’m gonna run you a bath, ok? how hot do you want the water?” i asked her.
“a bath isn’t gonna do shit, matt. you know what i need. let me take something or leave me alone”
“i’m trying to help you-” i started, quickly being cut off, “help me? you did this to me. this is your fault. tell me, what do you think happens when you sell drugs to people? do you know how many people you’ve made just like me? you’re no saint, matt. you’re actively helping people ruin their lives”
she didn’t mean it. of course, she didn’t . she’d say anything to get her fix. but that didn’t make her words hurt any less.
she wasn’t telling me anything i hadn’t told myself before. and i hated that i let her end up like this. she was right, this was my fault.
i should’ve done a better job at protecting her, at keeping her safe. i couldn’t do anything about failing in the past, but i damn sure could prevent it from happening in the future.
“you’re right, this is my fault. but letting you erase your progress now would only end up hurting you more in the long run. the only way i can help you is by being here for you. so you can yell at me, be mad at me, be annoyed with me, i don’t care. i’m not going anywhere, okay?”
instead of saying anything she just blinked up at me, nodding her head gently.
“now, how hot do you want your bath water?”
dwb! matt masterlist
main masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo x reader#matt#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo fanfic#sturniolos#matt sturniolo fanfic#dealer with benefits#dealer
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Genshin Characters When They Realize They Love You
Characters: Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao x gn!reader
Type/genre: Bulleted headcanons, fluff, slight angst
Warnings: Self-doubt/anxiety, not proofread
Kaeya
Knows he loves you when you tolerate his antics
You see through his flirtatious mask, and though you may roll your eyes in exasperation sometimes, you never lose your patience with him
Sometimes you even join in on his bits, telling tall tales to children or helping him convince the town that drinks were half-off at the Angel’s Share tonight
“If enough people believe it, then Master Diluc has to follow through, right? Can’t let his regulars down~”
Kaeya has been itching to say those three words. He can feel it creeping up his throat everytime you scold him for taking his tricks too far, everytime you smile at him
But for some reason, he finds himself holding back
What if you leave? What if you perceive it as weakness?
What if you don’t love him back?
He knows these thoughts are irrational, but he cannot stop his worst fears from creeping into his head
But the longer he waits to say it, the deeper of a hole he digs for himself
He loved you with his entire being. He was only trying to protect himself
So how come you were standing in front of him, hands covering your face as you sobbed that he didn’t love you?
Upon seeing you in that state, in a panic Kaeya forgets about the scared little boy in the rain, and the words come rushing out before he can stop them
“I’m sorry. I love you, I love you more than anything in this world, I promise. I…I love you. So please…don’t cry.”
Childe
Realizes he loves you just as you are beating someone up for information
Not surprisingly, Childe is addicted to the thrill that danger brings. And if the thrill comes in the form of you, isn’t it obvious he is addicted to you as well?
And what else could that be but love?
Also he’s just into people who can beat him up
No such thing as a bad time or place. The moment he realizes he loves you, those three words are already flying out of his mouth
Everyone in the situation was stunned—it was enough to make you stop punching the treasurer hoarder in the face, and the treasurer horder was staring at him dumbfounded through bloodied, swollen eyes
“Don’t mind me, I just felt like saying it. As you were, then?”
Zhongli
Knows he’s in love with you when you remember the things he forgets
As a god, there weren’t many things he had to remember to carry on his physical person, so he’s still getting used to it
After all, what use is food to an immortal being, an umbrella when his clothes were already soaked in blood, or mora to the God of Money?
But after leaving his archonhood behind, he has to start carrying such things around
He’s trying his best, but is still getting used to it so he frequently forgets
But you remember for him
You show up at his workplace, lunchbox in hand, chiding him for forgetting when you worked so hard cooking it this morning
You show up just as he clocks out for the day, a large umbrella held over your head to block the pitter-patter of the rain, saying how you didn’t want him to get his new suit wet
You chase after Zhongli on his way to the marketplace, scolding him between pants for making you run to give him his wallet
You could’ve let him suffer the consequences for his airheadedness, but instead you go out of your way to cover for him, and he loves you so much for it
The next time you give him something he forgot, he thanks you with a kiss
“Thank you for bringing it for me, my flower. I love you.”
Xiao
Realizes he loves you when you stay, despite it all
You’re not afraid of him. Even as a bringer of death and destruction, you don’t even hesitate to be around him
Even as the dark forces of his karmic ties suffocate him, you stay by his side, comforting him with quiet encouragements as he endures the pain
It’s not just because you’re the only thing keeping him sane. Even when the whispers grow quiet, you bring a sense of peacefulness and serenity to Xiao, one he hasn’t felt in thousands of years
You make him feel safe
You’ve made it clear to him that you’re not going anywhere, and he cannot begin to express how much he needed you to ground him
On one of the days the demons become head-splittingly loud in his ears, you cradle him in your arms, whispering sweet nothings to overpower the voices
Slowly but steadily, they grew quieter and quieter, until all Xiao could hear was your honeyed voice and the sound of his own harsh breathing
Overcome with appreciation for you, he opened his mouth to say something, but he was exhausted
All he could utter were three words that only began to dip into the reverence he has for you
“I…love you.”
#I rewrote Diluc’s 3 times and hated each one so I just took him out <3#my writing#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin headcanons#genshin fluff#Kaeya#Childe#Zhongli#Xiao#Kaeya x reader#Childe x reader#Zhongli x reader#Xiao x reader
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To the Moon and Back
Lando Norris x astronaut!Reader
Summary: not many people can say “I love you to the moon and back” literally … but you’re the exception
Based on this request
Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves 🫶
The roar of the engine echoes through the car as Lando revs the McLaren 720S Spider. You glance over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile. His eyes are bright with excitement beneath his helmet.
“You ready for this, love?” He asks, giving your hand a quick squeeze.
You nod, adrenaline already pumping through your veins. “Let’s do it.”
As an astronaut, you’re no stranger to G-force. But taking a hot lap around the race track with Lando is a different kind of thrill. The track marshall gives a thumbs up and Lando eases the car out of the pit lane. He takes it easy for the first few turns, warming up the tires.
“How’s it feel?” He asks.
“Smooth,” you reply. “Can’t even tell we’re going 200.”
Lando grins. “Oh just wait.”
He floors it down the back straight, pinning you back against the seat as the speedometer climbs towards 320 kilometers per hour. The G-force builds as he brakes hard into the next corner, expertly controlling the slide.
You let out an exhilarated whoop. “Now that’s more like it!”
Lando chuckles. “Barely getting started, babe.”
The next few laps are a blur of adrenaline and speed. Lando dances the McLaren through the corners, braking impossibly late before powering out in a controlled slide. You relish the forces pressing you back into your seat, so similar yet so different from a rocket launch.
As you pull back into the pits, crowds of fans erupt into cheers. Lando parks the car and hops out, pausing to take off his helmet and run a hand through his curly hair before coming over to help you out.
“So, what did the astronaut think?” He asks with a playful grin.
You’re still catching your breath, heart pounding. "That was insane! What a rush."
Lando looks pleased, keeping an arm wrapped around you as you’re swarmed by fans seeking autographs and photos. Most want a moment with their favorite driver, but a few recognize you as well.
“She’s the astronaut girlfriend, right?” Someone asks.
You nod, giving a little wave. “Yep, that’s me!”
The fans seem impressed that you were able to handle Lando’s hot lap so easily.
“Wow, you took those Gs no problem!” A teenage girl remarks.
You laugh. “Well, I have some practice from launch and re-entry.”
“You must be fearless to be an astronaut,” adds an awe-struck boy.
“It’s intense for sure,” you agree. “But so rewarding.”
Lando smiles proudly, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “My girl’s a badass. Takes a lot more than some high-G corners to phase her!”
You laugh and pose for a few more photos before Lando regrettably has to head in to prep for free practice. After a quick kiss goodbye, you wander through the bustling paddock, enjoying the infectious excitement in the air on race day.
You’ve just grabbed a water bottle when you hear rapid footsteps behind you.
“Y/N, wait up!”
Turning, you see Lando’s performance coach approaching. He gives you a polite smile. “Got a minute?”
You nod. “For you, always. What’s up?”
He falls into step beside you. “I wanted to run something by you. Lando seems distracted lately during training and physio. Have you noticed anything off with him?”
You frown, thinking back over the last few weeks. Now that he mentions it, Lando has seemed a little distant at times.
“I have noticed he’s been quieter than usual,” you admit. “But I figured it was just nerves or fatigue going into the season.”
Jon nods thoughtfully. “Could be. I know he really wants to impress this year. But as his girlfriend, I thought maybe you’d have a better sense of if anything else is on his mind.”
“I’ll try to talk to him,” you promise.
“Appreciate it,” Jon says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
You part ways and head out to the pit wall to watch the start of the race. But your mind is only partially on the action, thoughts preoccupied with concern for Lando. He’s normally so upbeat and energetic, but thinking back, you realize there has been a muted quality to him lately that is unusual. You wrack your brain trying to pinpoint if there was a specific incident that triggered this change, but come up empty.
After the podium, you pull Lando. “P3! What a freaking drive," you give him a quick kiss.
His eyes brighten momentarily. “Thanks, love. Feels good to start the season off strong.”
You study his face, wishing you could read his thoughts. “So … can we talk later? Maybe grab dinner in the city before heading back to the hotel?”
Lando shrugs. "Sure, I guess so."
You frown slightly. His response is lacking his normal enthusiasm. But the paddock is too crowded to dive deeper now. “Great, it’s a date!” You say brightly, taking his hand as you both head out to spray champagne. You’ll get to the bottom of this tonight.
After a flurry of post-race obligations, the two of you finally slip away to a quiet restaurant downtown. When the waiter steps away with your orders, you reach across the table to take Lando’s hand.
“So, what’s really going on?” You ask gently. “And don’t say nothing. Everyone can tell something’s been off lately.”
Lando sighs, avoiding your eyes. He runs his free hand through his curls. “It’s stupid, really …”
You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “If it’s bothering you this much, it’s not stupid. Talk to me, babe.”
He’s quiet for a long moment before responding softly. “I’m worried I don’t deserve you.”
You rock back slightly, caught off guard. “What? Where is this coming from?”
Lando keeps his gaze down. “It’s just … you’re this badass astronaut. You literally go to space! And I’m just a guy who drives cars in circles.”
Your heart aches for the vulnerability in his voice. You give his hand another supportive squeeze. “Lando, you’re so much more than that. Yes, I love space. But racing is your passion and you’re incredible at it. You bring joy to so many people. That matters.”
‘I know, but …” Lando trails off uncertainly.
You lean forward, gently tipping his chin up. “No buts. You deserve the world. I’m the lucky one here.”
He finally meets your eyes. “Really?” The doubt is clear on his face.
“Really,” you confirm. “I fell for you, Lando. Not your job or your fame. Your kindness, your humor, your giant heart … that’s what I love.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “When you put it like that …”
“It’s the truth,” you say firmly.
Lando lets out a long breath, his shoulders dropping as the tension eases. “I’ve been in my own head about this for weeks. Should have just talked to you sooner.”
“Well, you have me now,” you remind him. “No more keeping worries bottled up, deal?”
“Deal,” he agrees, lifting your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”
You laugh. “It’s always nice to hear.” Your heart swells with happiness to see the sparkle back in his eyes.
Just then your food arrives, and Lando insists you try a bite of his pasta. The conversation flows easily again as you trade stories and banter. With the worry lifted from his shoulders, Lando’s charm and humor are on full display. By the time you meander hand in hand back to the hotel, the moon is high in the sky.
Lando pauses outside your door. “Thank you for tonight. And just … for everything. You’re my whole world.”
“I love you to the moon and back.” You gaze at him adoringly for a moment before adding, “Now, I believe a celebration is in order for that podium today …”
You open the door and pull him inside by his collar as he laughs. As you kiss him deeply, you make a silent promise to always be the safe space he can turn to when doubts creep in.
You’re the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by this incredible man. And you plan to spend every day proving he’s worthy of the same boundless love … to the moon and back.
***
You take a deep breath as you stare out the small window of the shuttle, watching the Earth get smaller and smaller as you ascend into the sky.
This is it. Your first mission to the moon.
You’ve dreamed of this moment since you were a little girl, gazing up at the glowing orb in the night sky and imagining yourself walking across its cratered surface.
As an astronaut with NASA, you’ve completed years of intense training to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the rigors of space travel. But nothing can fully ready you for the surge of emotions that hits you now as your childhood fantasy becomes reality.
Excitement.
Awe.
A twinge of nervousness.
And above all, gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to push the boundaries of human exploration. To boldly go where only a handful of people have gone before.
You think of Lando. How his eyes lit up when you got the call informing you that you had been selected for this mission. How he immediately started planning a big celebratory dinner, inviting all your friends and family. How he held you tight before you left for quarantine and launch preparations, whispering “I’m so proud of you” and “I love you to the moon and back.”
Your relationship with Lando has always been anchored in mutual love, trust and encouragement. As a Formula 1 driver, he understands the demands and dangers of your job, the laser focus it requires. When he races, you’re trackside or glued to the TV, cheering him on. When it’s your turn to take the spotlight, he’s equally in your corner, hyping you up and telling anyone who’ll listen that his girl is an astronaut headed to space.
You chuckle thinking back to when you first met Lando at an Engineering for the Next Generation event. Him in his McLaren gear, standing out like a beacon in bright papaya. You in your crisp blue flight suit, NASA insignia shining. Sparks didn’t just fly, they erupted into fireworks.
Fast forward five years and here you both are, thriving in your dream careers, happily together and each other’s biggest fans.
Your daydreaming is interrupted by the voice of the commander crackling over your headset. “Prepare for trans-lunar injection burn.”
It’s time.
You watch attentively as the burn commences, adjusting the shuttle’s trajectory until you’ve escaped Earth’s gravity and are hurtling towards the moon.
The next few days pass in a blur of course corrections, equipment checks, meals, sleep, and anticipation. Then finally, the moment arrives. You feel the shuttle tremble as the engines fire, slowing you down until you achieve lunar orbit insertion.
For the first time, you’re gazing upon the entirety of the moon’s pockmarked surface rather than just a slice of it in the night sky. It’s simultaneously familiar and foreign, a world both near and far.
“We are go for powered descent,” comes the voice of Mission Control. The shuttle shudders as the lander separates, ferrying you and your crewmates down to the awaiting surface. Through the window you watch the grey, dusty terrain rise up to meet you. A perfect landing kicks up plumes of powder.
You’ve arrived.
Stepping outside in your bulky space suit, you marvel at the stark beauty surrounding you. The pitch black sky, dotted more vividly with blazing stars than you could have ever imagined. The rolling plains and hills in muted grays. The unfiltered rays of the sun overhead. And above all, the profoundly silence, unlike anything you’ve experienced on noisy Earth.
You bend down and scoop up some lunar soil, letting it sift through your gloved fingers.
The next two days pass swiftly, filled with collecting samples, setting up experiments, and traversing the alien landscape. Too soon, it’s time to depart. As the shuttle lifts off in a spray of dust, you take one last look at the moon’s cratered face, etching it into your memory.
Returning to Earth, you’re met with great fanfare. Lando wraps you in an enormous bear hug, his relief and elation at having you home safe and sound is infectious. “I’ve missed you so much! Can’t wait to hear all about it,” he holds you tight and refuses to let go.
At the dinner he’s arranged, surrounded by your closest friends and family, you regale everyone with stories about your lunar experience.
Walking in spaces so silent your own heartbeat sounded thunderous. The inexplicable lightness in your limbs from the reduced gravity. Seeing Earth hover above the horizon, a blue and white marble in the void. The sense of wonder at walking upon a heavenly sphere humans have gazed upon for millennia but few have ever touched.
“I’ve always loved you to the moon and back,” you tell Lando, taking his hand. “Now I can say I’ve literally loved you to the moon and back.”
You see his eyes widen as you pull out a small pouch and tip glittering gray dust into his palm — a moon rock. “A little piece of the moon, just for you,” you close his fingers around it.
Lando is momentarily speechless, touched beyond words by your gesture. Then a grin spreads across his face. “You are simply out of this world,” he laughs. “This is going in my trophy case for sure!”
Over the next year, Lando has the moon rock fashioned into a ring, which he wears on race days for good luck. Sure enough, he scores his first ever victory that season, a thrilling achievement after years of near misses and podium finishes.
Standing on top of the podium, Lando whoops and thrusts his trophy high. Then he gazes straight into your eyes and says words meant only for you. “This one’s for the person who has always loved me to the moon and back.”
You beam with joy, pride surging through you. In that moment, all the years of supporting each other through the highs and lows to follow your passions feel profoundly worth it. Because at the end of the day, whether it’s launching into space or racing on Earth, you’re always each other’s biggest fans, connected by a love deeper than any distance — even 768,800 kilometers to the moon and back.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando norris#ln4#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#lando norris one shot#lando norris drabble
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All Bark and No Bite : Meet the pack
Helloooooo! Welcome to my new series titled All Bark and No Bite. Before the series officially begins I want to give a quick overview of the SKZ pack members and their roles within the pack! This is how I view the pack dynamics working and my own personal thoughts. I have sorted them based on where I think they would fall. I have also included what tendencies I think some of them would have. I am also including a small background for the story. Please let me know your thoughts as well! I’d love to discuss :)
Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please.
My content is always for 18+ ONLY. If you are not 18+ please see yourselves out thanks
Background info: This story takes place in an alternate universe where people eventually present as one of three presentations: Alpha, beta and omega. Omegas are incredibly rare and many people have never even seen an omega in their lives. The new tradition is if an alpha does get an omega then that Omega does become the packs, though they will mainly ‘belong’ to the main alpha of the pack. Due to the submissive nature of the omegas this has turned many alphas and betas very misogynistic.
Next Series masterlist Masterlist
Bang Chan aka Chris -Pack Main Alpha
Chris is the head alpha of the SKZ pack. He is strong willed and carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Head of the pack and also unofficial head of the neighboring town has taken its toll on Chan mentally and emotionally. He is known as a strong leader who would and has done anything to protect his people. Other packs have heard of him and know better than to challenge him… Mostly anyways. The stupid few usually don’t make it home after coming for Chan. He is used to obedience and expects it in all aspects.
Lee Minho -Beta
Minho can be hard to read sometimes, he gives off such a serious vibe but once you get to know him and how he interacts with the pack it’s clear he really cares for them. Minho is very blunt and will tell you exactly how he sees it. Even though he’s a beta he is still Chan's second in command in the pack. Minho is often there to remind Chan that he’s allowed to be a human and not a machine. Main cook for the pack.
Seo Changbin -Alpha
The main muscle (other than chan) of the pack. He takes pride in his strength and his ability to protect the pack as well as offer a shoulder to cry on. Changbin is often the one the pack goes too when they are down and just need a hug. According to them he gives the best hugs. Also really good for a laugh as he never stops joking around.
Hwang Hyunjin -Beta
Hyunjin is a true romantic through and through. When he’s not helping out at home with the pack you could usually find him painting out in a field somewhere or in town helping the townsfolk. He can often be found running errands for the elderly in town. He is a true artist and loves to do portraits of his fellow pack mates.
Han Jisung -Beta with Omega tendencies
Precious Hannie, always so helpful and supportive. It was a surprise to his family he didn’t present as an omega growing up given how submissive he can be. He just wants to please the people he cares about! He can be a little introverted and shy around new people but once he warms up to you he never stops talking or joking around. Sunshine boy :)
Lee Felix -Beta Omega tendencies
Felix is another ray of sunshine for the pack. He is very dainty like a fairy and dances around like one too, despite his deep voice! His bubbly personality is contagious and anyone he meets is enamored by him. He can often be found in the kitchen baking during the day and singing along to whatever song is stuck in his head. Sometimes the pack wonders how he didn’t end up an omega.
Kim Seungmin -Beta with Alpha tendencies
This boy is very smart and is one of Chan's right hand men in the pack. He pays attention better than anyone else to small details and is good with strategy. He can come off as aloof and rude when you don’t know him yet, but once his shell is broken through he is actually a very caring person. He always tries to do right by his pack and would stop at nothing to protect them.
Yang Jeongin -Alpha
The youngest member of the pack and newest to present as an Alpha. He is very easy going and doesn’t have many responsibilities yet as he’s still trying to find himself as an alpha. He really looks up to the other members, especially Chan as he is a prime example of who Jeongin wants to become. The least experienced of the pack. One thing about him is he is very quick on his feet and even though he is young he knows he would die for the pack’s safety.
If you got this far thank you :') I am not the best writer but I do enjoy it and hope you do too!
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@ihrtlix
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#straykids abo#skz smut#stray kids smut#bang chan#lee know#han jisung#changbin#jeongin#felix lee#seungmin#hyunjin
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You being Eren’s fav girl
-Plug!Eren x reader
Warnings: Fluff, f!reader, Cursing, making out, Eren being lovey dovey, flirting
Summary: In which Eren pulls you away from your friend group, finds a empty area, and makes out with you on a bench at night during a carnival event just to be alone with you.
A/N: you and Eren aren’t dating, but you sure are his favorite girl compared to everyone else
"Eren, What's wrong?" You questioned and got closer to him. Your friends, who were behind you both began walking away, not noticing that you and Eren weren’t following along.
He shook his head and began walking in a different direction from the group, making you follow him confused.
"Nothing, just wanna go somewhere else." He mumbled loud enough for you to hear.
After many minutes of walking, pushing past big groups of people in crowded areas you find yourself in a secluded area that has a few benches, and a water fountain. Not as much people were in sight, the people that were there were busy looking at the lightened up river near by.
"Eren if you wanted to get alone with me, you could've just said that." You chuckled and turned around to check the scenery. Eren rolled his eyes and put his phone back into his pocket, sitting down on the bench behind you.
"Nah, i just wanted to get away from them." He uttered, looking at you.
"And get alone with me?"
Eren shrugged his shoulders. "maybe."
You turned around and smirked, having your arms crossed. The look on your face convinced him to not act stupid.
"Why you standing? Come here." He pulled your arm making you land on his lap. Your hand was on his chest stopping you from crashing your head against his chest.
Your cheeks began heating up, despite the cold weather the only heat that appeared on your body was on your face.
"Yeah, thanks for that. I was getting cold." You said sarcastically. Eren looked down at you with his eyebrows rose up, low eyes looking down at your slightly shivering body.
The movement he was making made you back away, you noticed he was taking off his jacket. Then he wrapped it over you once it was fully off, leaving him in his white tee-shirt.
"No-No! I was joking, keep it on your gonna freeze!" You pleaded and unwrapped the puffer around your body, handing back to him. Only for Eren to shake his head, and wrap the jacket around you again.
"I won't get cold with you on my lap. Wear it, don't argue with me ma." He replies. You sigh in defeat, putting your arms through the holes in the jacket, fully putting it on you.
You thanked him and cupped his cheek with one hand, caressing it when you notice it was getting colder.
"you my favorite person right now, you know that?" Eren questions, his lips getting closer to yours. You raise your eyebrows and grin.
"How about your mom?"
"I like you both equally." He repeated, making you laugh and fall in deeper into his embrace, since his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist.
“Thank you, baby.” You thanked Eren.
His fingers were propped under your chin, forcing you look up at his low, slightly red eyes. He pulled you into a kiss, both of your lips moving into sync.
He had wet, velvety lips. Your eyelids jerk back wide as his tongue even makes an appearance. His hand descends from your waist to your ass, where he grabs a handful and tightly squeezes it. A small moan escapes your mouth, you feel a smirk form on Erens lips.
When Eren opens his eyes, there's a familiar person strolling around the area dumbfoundingly.
Linah, Erens ex girlfriend.
"What a fucking stalker" is what Eren thought into his head. He purposely kicked a pebble over to where she was standing, just so she could watch him makeout with his new girl. Give her all the love and affection.
Linah had a hurt expression written all over her face, lips were slightly agaped open as she didn't know what to say or expect.
A burning passion of jealous runs through her chest, and her breathing gets heavier when she makes eye contact with Eren.
Even if it was dark outside, she was able to see the small smirk that formed on his lips as he touched you lovingly, something she wished to have right now.
Eren pulls away from you, a string of saliva being pulled away in between you both.
"You done stalking, Linah?!" Eren yells out, startling you as you turned around to see a girl watching you both. A feeling of embarrassment flows inside your body as you try getting off of Erens lap, but his arm makes you stay down.
Linah doesn't say anything in response, instead she shakes her head and ignores the incoming headache and the feeling of throwing up that overcomes her system. She runs away from you both right after, feeling extra embarrassed after getting called out by him.
"Fucking weirdo." Eren mumbles making you look at him with wide eyes.
"E-Eren, who was that?" Your eyebrows knitted together as you pressed your lips together. Eren shakes his head and cups your jaw with his hand, rubbing your cheek affectionately.
"Jus an annoying lil stalker. Don't mind her, babe." He responds, pressing his lips against yours once again before you could even respond back. His hands squeeze your hips from under the jacket he gave you, giving reassuring touches.
He pulls away and moves down to your neck, pressing light kisses, and lightly sucking on the softness of your skin which turns into a light purple.
"mmm, my' favorite girl." He praises against your skin, kissing your jaw. Your hands get lost in his hair, lightly tugging from the satisfaction your receiving.
His words left butterflies in your stomach, the affection even if you guys were not labeled as anything. It made you feel special. Eren knew, even if you weren’t dating. You’d always be his favorite girl.
"You think we should get back to the others?" You question when you notice Erens phone buzzing multiple times, messages from all of your friends asking where the two of you were.
He shook his head, kissing your collar bone.
"Nah, they'll find us. Let's 'jus enjoy this moment. hm?" You nodded after he spoke, messing around with the chains that were around his neck.
“mhmm” You mumbled, looking up at him.
#eren x reader#eren fluff#eren jaeger fluff#plug!eren#making out#shingeki no kyojin#eren aot#eren headcanons#eren x you#eren jaeger x y/n#attack on titan#eren imagines#eren smut#eren yeager#snk eren#eren jeagar
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