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#french i’ve never had to?
robborne · 2 years
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not being able to roll my ‘r’s makes it a lot harder to learn some languages damn
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lesbiansanemi · 15 days
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In a turn of shocking events absolutely stunning no one more than myself, I might actually enjoy cooking and not only that, be good at it
#it’s like a switch just flipped or something it’s crazy#cooking genuinely used to be in my top 10 most hated activities#but these past couple days I’ve been loving it?#I wonder if the secret is that I’m ACTUALLY cooking#as in like making things from scratch and not relying on premade frozen and stovetop meals#like on Saturday I made a ran of ribs#(made bbq sauce from scratch and everything!)#and then shredded the meat for tacos#they were delicious! and I loved the process of it!#they were so yummy I brought the leftovers to work for lunch the next day!!!!#I’ve *never* done that before#last night I made pasta#and while the pasta was premade (I don’t think I’ll ever reach a point where I’m making pasta from scratch regularly lol)#(I would like to give a shot eventually though)#I made the sauce myself and actually grated fresh Parmesan cheese instead of using the powdered shit#and it was so yummy!!!!#today a friend is coming over and I’m gonna make her fried rice with some of the leftover rib meat#I woke up this morning and first thing made French toast and bacon#not frozen French toast like I actually turned the stove on#tomorrow night I am planning on making Turkey meatloaf with glazed carrots and some peas#what is HAPPENING#this used to be HELL for me and now I’m enjoying it#and food tastes???? good????#this is insane who was gonna tell me food could taste good??????#I used to hate food and only ate when I needed to#is this what cooking from scratch does???? it makes it taste good?????#mannnnnnn#but anyways yes I’m loving it I’m loving the process and it’s tasting good#I haven’t had a horrible accident where something tastes awful yet#(I expect it will happen eventually haha but so far!!!)
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dinitride-art · 1 year
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Polls.
Not Poles.
Would you believe that I have been learning this language for nearly nineteen years? That it’s what my brain is built on? That I read and write all the time and still can’t spell basic words?
The spelling doesn’t even make any sense. Like there’s two ‘L’s and suddenly that makes it so the ‘o’ sound changes? Like that doesn’t happen with dolls. And I know it’s because those two words were probably taken from two different languages but still, what the fuck? Pole is like that because the ‘e’ on the end affects the vowel, and that’s a rule that makes sense. Sometimes. Most of the time kinda. And like okay, I know that pole is about like the North Pole and stuff that’s like related to the specific use of that term. Science shit. And polls has a different meaning because it’s about polls. But still in my head polls should be pronounced like ‘pauls’. But like slightly different. For whatever reason that may be.
At this point I should just try to learn pieces of like twenty other languages just to try and understand the roots of English to spell things correctly.
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willowcrowned · 2 years
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Joy
one time I got into a fifteen minute argument with my AP French teacher junior year of high school because she’d asked us about life changing experiences and I said that that morning I’d been alone in a little courtyard and watched a tiny bird fly out of a bush into the brightening sky and and breathed in real deep and started to think I might be able to remember how to want to live again, and she said it didn’t count because I wouldn’t even remember seeing the bird fly out of a bush three days later but the joke is on her because I’m still pissed about that argument years after
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marzzrocks · 2 years
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i’m really considering dropping out of college and taking a boat out to sea
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Maybe it’s the delusions again but maybe… just maybe….. everyone is out to get me
#so i got my passport photos taken today because.. it’s a thing you have to so sometimes#*to do#and the lady was like ‘can i take an email address to send the photos to?’ so i began to say my name#and girl tell me why this woman knew how to spell my last name#i’m obviously not going to dox myself here so this has to remain vague but i have a french last name that is notoriously hard to spell#like i have never not had to spell it out to people. but she heard me say it the one time and then spelled it for me????#never happens. absolutely disarming experience#and then she saw my confusion and gave me this weird little smile???#i was like. what does that mean. why do you know how to spell my name that less than 1000 people share#did my mom piss you off at some point. did my dad piss you off at some point. did i piss you off at some point and i’ve forgotten?#was it my niece?? maybe a distant relative??? who in my family line do you have beef with#like maybe it was a lucky guess and she also has a weird awkward french name but i doubt it somehow#and THEN i went in coopland’s for lunch and managed to snag a table that was next to where people were queueing for the counter#and while i was eating someone walked past me to join the queue and said ‘hiya’#i just gave the world’s most awkward nod because whoooo is this person#so then i looked behind me to get a closer look at her and make sure i hadn’t snubbed a really obvious person who i do in fact know#and she did not look familiar At All. which made the fact that she was giving me the evil eye that much weirder#maybe she was confused about why i was looking at her. maybe she just has rbf. maybe she was on the phone? maybe she thought i was someone#else and was mad at me for not being them. idk. but it was all a bit much#i didn’t like any of this. i don’t like when it feels like people know me but i don’t know them. feeling very truman burbank-esque#🎶I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY’S WAAAATCHING MEEEEEEE (AND I HAVE NO PRIVACY)🎶#anyway if you need me i’ll be rehydrating because i definitely didn’t buy a drink in coopland’s because i didn’t want to pay £1.25#for bottled water ✌🏻#personal
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touchlikethesun · 5 months
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english speaking anime fans who say that they can’t watch dubs because it’s cringe are exactly the same as ESL speakers in fandom that refuse to read fic in their native language and they both are exactly the same as people that prefer to process emotions in their second language. it’s all about distance and abstraction i get it now.
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suoulfillem · 5 months
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happy new year!! i have to go into work tonight and i’m way too sleepy
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6ebe · 10 months
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so sad to be leaving Germany and my bestie :(
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sea-lanterns · 6 months
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RIDE ME!
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synopsis: (cowgirl! au) what's better than riding a horse? a cowgirl.
featuring: navia, dehya, shinobu, clorinde, beidou, arlecchino
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, strap ons, riding, reader on top for the most part, teasing, strap ons refered to as c.o.ck and other synonyms, pet names, possessiveness, jealousy, potential poor translation of french from google translate (navia), slight cunnilingus (shinobu), size kink (beidou), handcuffs (clorinde), degradation (clorinde, arlecchino), usage of whore/slut (clorinde, arlecchino), captor x prisoner dynamic (arlecchino), belly bulge (beidou), may be ooc.
art credits: black lagoon
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NAVIA
“Oh my, your cute little legs are shaking so much, ma cherie!*”
Navia giggles to herself when you find yourself panting and struggling to take all of Navia’s length inside of you. The thick toy causing your throat to tighten and whine, because Navia just had to pick something so damn big and long to shove up your pussy.
“N-Navia…” you grit through your teeth, some of the air knocking out of your lungs when the woman suddenly bucked her hips forward. “Yessss?” She replies nonchalantly, a smug look on her face when she sees the way you were struggling to properly ride her. “Did’ya…have to choose the biggest toy you could find?” You groan while glaring down at her sarcastically. 
“Oh honey, stop complaining…” Navia giggles, grabbing your hips and ripping a moan out of you when she begins bouncing you on her own. “You’re a big girl, so you can take a big dick on your own, hm?” 
With each riveting thrust, Navia had you bouncing on her hips like you were some excited little bunny, a look of pure satisfaction on the cowgirl’s face when she got an up close view of your pussy swallowing her cock each time you moved up and down. The sight was utterly breathtaking for the legendary cowgirl of your town, and you saw that she was in fact drooling a little bit from the way your cum was dripping down her shaft. 
“Oh, baise-moi, tu es si belle*.” Navia mumbled under her breath, eyes glazing over in a mesmerized way. “I can’t believe you’re mine…”
She chuckles at the way your body twitches from the constant hammering of her hips, so she decides to cut the tension a bit by grabbing her cowgirl hat lying on top of the night stand and placing it over your eyes. 
“There, now you look like a proper cowgirl.” Navia giggles, clutching your hips and smiling at the way her oversized hat tilts forward to cover your eyes. “Now ride me properly, you silly cowgirl. No horse is too big for you to tame…”
She lets out another cheery smile and continues to brutally thrust her hips at that. 
English translations taken from Google Translate: *my love, *fuck me, you’re so beautiful
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DEHYA
“(Chuckle), is the princess unable to tame this bull on her own?” 
Dehya smirks cockily at the way you trembled like a leaf on top of her, the look of pure determination on your face as you attempted to get all seven inches of her strap deep inside you. You would’ve gotten all of it fitting snugly by now, but Dehya had been teasing you for the entirety of your session, smirking and gently patting your hips in a condescending manner, that really had you distracted to the point you struggled greatly with even fitting the first few inches.
“Oh, princess…” Dehya chuckles, eying the way your pussy was just drooling over her shaft like it was trying to lube itself as much as it could. Probably because it needed that much lube in the first place, and the sheer amount of precum you were excreting was enough to make your ears go hot in shame. “I’ve never seen you produce so much slick without orgasming, darlin’”
“Shut up…!” you whimpered, giving Dehya a snarky glare. “I’m not used to riding you on top!”
“It’s really not that hard, babe,” Dehya sighs, rolling her eyes playfully. “Trust me, riding a woman is a lot easier than riding a bull, and I know from both experiences.” She clicks her tongue and winks at you. “So why don’t you give it another shot, come on, I know you can do it.”
She gives you an encouraging pat on the ass and leans back, making sure to stretch her stomach a little bit so her abs could shine under the sunset’s rays. The sight of Dehya looking so relaxed and confident in you gave you the little boost you needed to ease up and slowly slide down to the hilt. 
With a strangled gasp, you let out a pretty little whine that made Dehya practically groan with pleasure. “Such a pretty noise you made there, princess,” Dehya husks, trailing one of her thumbs to push at your clit. “Can you make more? You’re usually singing like a canary by now…”
She chuckles and helps you ease down the rest of her cock, noting the tiny twitch in your legs as you struggle to ground yourself to reality. “Ah, poor thing’s all tuckered out just from sitting down,” Dehya grins, sitting up slightly to whisper in your ear. “Would you like this bull to help ride for you?”
When you were unable to respond, feeling too unbearably full from her cock, Dehya smirks and shifts her hands to rest on your hips. “I guess that’s a yes from the pretty little lady.”
Holding you close to her muscled body, she begins to thrust upwards at a brutal place, tip hitting so deep inside you it had you bouncing till you weren’t even moving on your own…
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SHINOBU
“Having difficulty, sweet thing?” Shinobu whispers in that raspy voice of hers, eyes glinting forwards at you like a cat, as she watches the way you involuntarily jerked at her thrusts from her strap on pounding inside you. Shinobu was by no means a gentle woman of any kind, yet when it came to you, the sweet darling bachlorette of small town Inazuma, the outlaw was considerably generous to you, given by the fact that she could wreck your delicate pussy at any time she wanted. 
With that in mind however, Shinobu was being awfully patient with how long it took for you to adjust to her strap. The toy was not even breaking five inches, yet when you tried to stuff it inside you from the top —eager to ride Shinobu like a first time rodeo gal— you almost cried from the sheer stretch you felt of her shaft spearing you open. 
“Oh, baby…” Shinobu hummed to herself out of pity, reaching a hand forward to ease your walls a little more by playing with your clit. “You gotta loosen up, babe. I’m about to slip right out again if you’re this tight right now…”
“S-Sorry…” you grimaced, trying desperately to get your body to relax. “I don’t know why it won’t go in…”
“You’re too tense, babe.” Shinobu chuckles, pulling her bandanna down to slip her long tongue out to lick at her teeth. “Do you want me to help you? I certainly can, all you need to do is ask…”
With the way she was licking her teeth seductively and showing off her impressively long tongue, you felt your cunt drip a bit more as just the sight of it had you drooling out of arousal. “Yes please,” you mumble softly, letting Shinobu lift you off her cock and place you back down on the bed. She eased herself lower so that she was now eye level with your cunt, and began licking slow, languid strokes with her tongue until she was able to see your folds loosen up a bit.
“Atta girl…” Shinobu mumbles breathlessly, gripping your thighs to keep you from squirming and pressing deep nail indents into your skin. “Tastier than any ambrosia they serve at that damned bar…”
She groans and pulls you down to kiss at your stomach, playfully nipping the skin right above your belly button before staring up at you hungrily. 
“Do you still wanna ride me, doll?” She asks in a husky tone. 
You shake your head no. 
“Tch, spoiled girl…” she grins and raises your legs up on her shoulders so that she can angle her strap to fuck you. “You should be grateful I’m so lenient on a sweet thing like you…”
And with that, she has you clawing at the sheets as the outlaw prods her tip through your folds…
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CLORINDE
“What a naughty girl, unable to keep your hands to yourself…” 
Sheriff Clorinde smirks to herself as the jingle of your handcuffs move with every bounce you take on Clorinde’s strap. The sheriff having chosen a curved, purple dildo as a strap for you to ride on, as this was your punishment for provoking the sheriff while on duty for patrol.
How did you provoke her you may ask? Well, let’s just say parading around in a short skirt, casting flirtatious winks at the gunslinger and whispering how much you wanted her to destroy you was a one way ticket to pound town with Clorinde and your hands bound together with metal cuffs. 
“But Sheriff, I was only vying for your attention…” you pouted, whining when you felt her hands grip your ass and keep you seated downward on the smooth, warm, toy. 
“Vying for my attention, you say?” Clorinde raises a brow, tugging on the chain between your cuffs so that you’d suddenly lurch backwards with a yelp. “Nearly the entire town saw the way you were crooning for me. Don’t you have any shame?” 
She gave a particularly hard thrust at the word shame, grinning to herself when she saw the way you began leaking all over the toy and crying. “What’s wrong you needy girl, have you sprung a leak?” She teases, trailing a finger down to scoop up some of your essence. “Weren’t you whining for my attention earlier? Come on, where’s that excited spark I saw earlier…”
She continues to roll her hips —albeit at a slower pace— before tilting her head up at you and sighing. “You know better than to make me jealous, sweet thing.” She sits up to whisper in your ear and holds your waist a little tighter. “Navia, Furina, and practically all the cowgirls in town had seen you parading yourself in such ludicrous ways. Only I have the pleasure of seeing you, alright?” 
She grunts and begins to roll her hips a bit faster, practically grinding into you to the point all you could feel down there was Clorinde’s strap rearranging your insides. 
“Clorinde…” you gasped when she suddenly pulled you forward to place a delicate little kiss on your mouth, completely contrasting the way she was currently pummeling you with her cock till all you could see were stars.
“That’s sheriff to you, slut.”
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BEIDOU
“Well damn, I didn’t know a gal as sweet as you could take a cock this well…”
Beidou laughed as she rested back on the bed frame and placed her arms behind her head. She looked as relaxed as can be while she watched the prettiest girl in town —that’d be you— lazily bounce on her strap with determination. Usually the rugged cowgirl would be on top of you, molding your body to fit hers as she pounded her cock to the oblivion, but this time you wanted to try something different. Something you always wanted to do ever since watching Beidou wrangle some of those wild horses.
“I admit, when you first asked to ride me, I didn’t think you were serious,” Beidou sneers, “But after seeing how determined you are, it seems like you’d make quite the good cowgirl if you keep this up.”
She smiles and tilts your chin up to look at her, an endearing grin on the cowgirl’s face as she continues letting you “take the reins” so to speak. 
“Like I’d ever want to ride a horse though,” you chuckle jokingly, barely hiding a moan as it slips past your lips. “I’d rather just tame a woman…”
“You already did, darlin’” Beidou smirks, pushing you down a little further till there was a slight bulge in your stomach from her cock. “You could tame any woman out here if you could, ya little rascal…”
Your body involuntarily shuddered when you felt her tip push so deep inside you, the ridged edges of her strap feeling so good against your walls, as they milked her for everything that she was worth. “Gentle now…” you groaned, feeling stuffed to the brim from the way she was handling you. “Is this how you treat all the ladies you bed with?”
“No, just this lady.” Beidou chuckles. “Am I too rough?” 
“Not…exactly.” You whimpered, steadying yourself as Beidou bucks her hips a bit harder. “I just need to get used to it, that’s all…”
Beidou smiled softly at this, before murmuring a curse under her breath and pushing her bangs back in amusement. “Oh fuck me little lady…you’re absolutely precious…”
She can’t stop herself from grinning before grabbing your hips and helping you bounce up and down her shaft. At the extra pressure and boost in speed, you nearly creamed yourself and cried while Beidou kept you upright in her arms. 
“Well if you’re so lenient on me being a bit rougher, then perhaps I shouldn’t be so gentle on you anymore, little lady…”
And she kept her word, having you eyes roll back in bliss as she leans forward to suck a nipple into her mouth.
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ARLECCHINO
“Tch…I see why that small town of yours was so angry at me for taking you…” Arlecchino husks, the smoke from her cigar fogging up your senses while you sit upright on her lap with her cock buried inside you. “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes, aren’t you?”
She slips the cigar out of her mouth and puts it out on the ashtray beside her, blowing some smoke into your face and watching as you grimace and cough with a frown. “Sensitive too,” she remarks, smirking and caressing your face with the sharp nails you were oh so terrified of. 
“A-Anyone would grimace if they had smoke blow back in their face…” you grunt, glaring down at your captor while you rode her strap with need. “It’s rude to do that anyhow, y’know.”
“I think you’re forgetting I’ve done much ruder things,” the bandit leader chuckles with amusement. “For example, kidnapped you and kept you for ransom. Isn’t that much worse than blowing smoke in your face, doll?” 
Your face scowled down at her and she only grinned at the way you were pouting. “Oh, don’t make that face sweet thing. It’s not like I have you tied up and chained to a post in the desert. You willingly came in here to fuck me, so don’t act so innocent now…”
She flashes you a sneering look before moving her hips a bit rougher so that you could really feel how hard and perfect her cock felt inside you. The way your lips part and glisten with barely contained drool had Arlecchino stroking her ego faster than you could come undone. The sight of your town’s prized jewel now drooling and riding her cock with pathetic need was sending the bandit leader into another state of superiority.
“Oh how I wish that sheriff of yours could see you now,” Arlecchino chuckles, “Clorinde was it? My, she was seething at the way I had you gripped in my arms. She looked like she would shoot me dead right on the spot if I hadn’t been carrying you.”
She was on a power trip, a glistening of madness in those red, X-shaped pupils of hers, as she began bouncing you harder against her strap. 
“You like that though, I know. A whore like you just loves being the center of attention amongst all those rugged cowgirls…”
She scoffs and sits up to bite a hickey onto your neck, enjoying the way you squirmed and clung onto her shoulders immediately once you felt her teeth on your skin. 
“Tell you what, once that sheriff of yours comes up with the sum of money I want, you send her back a little message for me, m’kay?” She growls and practically grips your ass into her clawed hands. “I want you to show her every little bite, hickey, and scratch I leave on your body, so she knows you had fun with me in my tent. Got it?”
You nodded enthusiastically before whining at the way she was now speeding her thrusts. 
“Good whore.”
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luveline · 19 days
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I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.
—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k
“You’re really handsome.” 
Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 
He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 
“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 
“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”
His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 
“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 
“We were covered in mud.” 
“We should’ve just got naked.” 
“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”
“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 
“You sure?” 
“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 
Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 
You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 
You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 
You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 
“Y/N?” 
You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 
“What’s wrong?” 
You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 
“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 
“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 
“I was in the shower!” 
“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 
You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 
Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 
“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 
“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 
“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 
He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 
The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 
He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 
“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 
He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 
“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He’s in the shower.” 
“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 
“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 
Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.
“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”
“Honey.” 
“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 
“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 
You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 
“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 
Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.
“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”
You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 
“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 
You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 
You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 
“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 
“He brought pizza.” 
“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 
You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 
Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 
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lovisyandereblog · 6 months
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Eyes on Me
Yandere Submissive Stalker X GN Reader
Part 3! Probably last part….maybe
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Part 1 and 2 here. Also guys Im so sorry for my mistakes in my last post! I accidentally used she/her pronouns in my writing, I genuinely didn’t even realise it. Im so sorry guys!!
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7 weeks. It had been 7 long fucking weeks and you were still stuck here.
Noah had kept you captive for nearly two months now, but he never let you feel like you were one.
He would gift you things you wanted nearly everyday, Noah would cook your favourite dishes for you, he would shower you with love and affection, always making sure your every want and need was met.
All he asked for in return was your love…thats all he wanted.
And it seemed like you were slowly giving in.
What else could you do?! He was so adorable, so cute, so kind, so sweet…you were slowly becoming more lenient towards him.
For example, you weren’t kicking, hitting or screaming anymore. You were eating your food rather than throwing it away and yelling. And you were a bit more welcoming to his kisses, his soft and loving kisses.
Noah was also letting you roam free in his large house. You had an idea of who he was now. Noah was a very famous doctor, and was very wealthy. He was a psychiatrist who always treated his patients with care and love, never making them feel like they were a burden.
But although he let you roam the house freely, he never let you outside.
Creak…
The door opened and you stared at it, the same sweet smile you saw everyday greeting you.
“Good morning my love~!! Have you had a nice nights sleep?” Noah came closer to you, stroking your cheek and kissing your forehead. You were so used to it at this point that you didn’t even bat your eye at his affection.
“ `Morning…” You mumbled as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, sitting up slowly.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the mornings~?” Noah said in a sing-song voice, twirling a piece of your y/c hair with his finger.
You tried to hide your blush as you turned your head away, “W-whatever…”
Noah chuckled and kissed your cheek again, “Come! Go get freshened up and lets have breakfast! I’ve asked the cook to make you your favourite french toast!”
He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to praise him. He practically lived for your praise and attention, but you would rarely give it to him.
“Oh..thank you Noah..Ill go get ready…” You murmured as you rushed to the toilet. Noah watched you go, hearts practically engrained in his eyes. For you. Just for you~
At the breakfast table, Noah was staring at you lovingly as he fed you the toast.
“I can feed myself…” You tried to protest, but he whined.
“P-please! Please let me Y/N…Im begging you~” His eyes were so cute, you just couldn’t help but give into his pleads.
“Fine..just stop looking at me like that…” You replied hastily, and he immediately brightened up and went straight back to feeding you.
After your 5th or 6th bite, you started feeling quite full, putting your hand up to stop the bite in Noah’s hand to come near your mouth. He nodded and ate the bite himself, smiling at you with such a lovesick grin.
You swallow nervously, looking at him. You had to ask him a question really badly, it was really important, “Noah?”
“Yes my angel, my love, my darling~?” Noah answered, hearts in his eyes as he looks at you. You had to keep yourself from smiling at his cheesy terms of endearment.
“Can you please let me go outside? I haven’t seen the outside world in like 2 months…” You complained, making him frown immediately and look away.
“Y-Y/N, you know how sorry I am…I feel so guilty baby…” Tears already filled his eyes as he spoke, making you sigh as you always gave into his tears.
“But…but I can’t let you go…Im scared you’re going to leave me. I can’t live without you my love…I’ll die!” Noah started to cry, holding your hands and bringing it to his heart. On the inside, he knew he was manipulating you but what else could he do?! He genuinely did love you so so much.
He loved you to the point of obsession.
You thought to yourself as you just stared at him, he sniffed and gave you puppy eyes. You knew you had to do something in order to get out of this place, otherwise he’d just keep you locked up forever. You wanted your life back and you knew just how to do it.
It involved giving into Noah’s love in order to regain your freedom. There was no other way. You had tried to escape in the past but he always…always found you.
“Noah…if I become your..partner..will you let me have more freedom?” You asked, and he immediately jumped up, looking at you hopefully.
“Y-Y/N?! Are….are you being serious?!” Noah couldn’t believe it, all his hard work finally paid off. You would finally be all his.
“Yes Noah, I’ve thought about it a lot and I want to start a relationship with you, but you have to promise you’ll let me go-” You had barely finished your sentence when he suddenly fainted, making you let out a loud scream.
You immediately went on your knees, cradling him in your lap as you tried to nudge him awake.
‘What the fuck??’ You thought to yourself as you check his pulse and sighed in relief when it’s normal.
“Now what am I to do with you…” You mumble to yourself before a plan comes to mind.
Paybacks a bitch…
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Noah woke up with a groan, his eyes slowly opening yet his sight was still hazy.
‘What happened…?’ He thought to himself as he tried to sit up, but his eyes widened when he couldn’t move. He looked up and saw his wrists were tied together and attached to the headboard of the bed. To add to this, his ankles were tied to the bottom poles of the bed. He looked down and noticed he was now wearing only his boxers and a t-shirt.
He thrashed around, trying to get out of his restraints to no avail. This couldn’t be happening. Where the hell were you?!
Noah began to sob and panic as millions of thoughts raced through his poor little head. He started to think of how you had left him and he’d never see you again.
“Y/N!! P-PLE-HIC-PLEASEE I’M S-SORRY…DON’T L-LEAVE ME…I’LL DIE W-HIC-WITHOUT YOU!!!” He was genuinely going crazy without you, where did you go?? Why would you leave him? Was he not good enough?! He’d change for you—he will; just give him a chance!!
“Y/N!! C-COME BA—” His words were cut off by you suddenly placing a hand over his mouth, “Shut the fuck up,” You seethed, glaring at him as he looked up at you with teary blue eyes.
Where you came from, he didn’t know but he was just happy that you were here. Although he was genuinely scared from how angry you looked, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fact that you hadn’t left. He was so delusional that he thought you had came back for him❤️❤️❤️ (A/N he’s so weird I love him)
But he also had a little problem because of you on top of him; all of his fantasies were coming true. Oh god just ruin him already!!
He whined against your hand and tried to buck his hips up, making you grip onto his mouth even harder, “I said shut up you fucking brat, can’t listen to simple instructions?”
The mix of your strong body on top of him and your cruel words made the poor boy’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his back arched; pathetic moans leaving him.
No way….did he just….?
You look down and saw a wet patch forming on his crotch, you internally smirked at how much of an effect you had on him but you had to keep up your strict persona, “Did you just fucking cum, you slut?”
Noah panicked, his pretty eyes filling with even more tears as he shakes his head “no,” worried that you’d be disgusted with him. (He secretly wanted you to treat him like trash)
But could you blame him for cumming?? You were literally on top of him looking as beautiful as ever, whispering demeaning words at him and you expected him not to cum?
“Mmm…n-not a s-slut…” He tried to mumble against your hand, looking at you with such love in his eyes. You nearly felt bad for him.
You suddenly slap him on the face, making him whine out in pain and pleasure as he breathed heavily from the release of his mouth from your hand. You took a second to admire the sight below you:
His blonde locks were messy, bangs sticking to his forehead. His cheeks were all rosy and wet with tears as was his mouth which was covered in his drool. Noah’s big blue eyes were looking to the side, embarrassed to face you as he bit his pretty pink lips.
You gripped his hair roughly, making him whine out, “Did I say you could talk back? Did I say you could fucking look away?”
He shook his head frantically, mentally face palming himself for disobeying you, “N-no! No…‘mm sorry!! S-sorry…please…”
“Sorry’s not going to cut it pretty boy…I think I need to teach you a lesson hmm? For all the bad things you did…” You leaned in close to his ear and he could feel his dick harden again from your proximity, “….for kidnapping me, keeping me locked up here…you’ve been a bad boy haven’t you~?”
Noah had started to sob, tears cascading down his adorable pink cheeks; he didn’t want to be a bad boy!! He wanted to be good, so good, for you!
“N-no! Mm so-sorry!! I’m n-not a bad boy! I-I’m a g-good boy…your good boy!!” He desperately begged, looking up at you in hopes you’d believe him. He knew what he had done was wrong but his intentions were never bad, he promises!!
You couldn’t help the heat pooling in your lower stomach from the way he was begging, god his desperation was so hot. So what if he was a deranged, psychotic, obsessive lunatic? He was cute!!
“But you haven’t proven to me you’re a good boy…so a punishment is really needed~” You said with a devilish smirk forming on your face, making both his heartbeats race (if you get what I mean💀💀)
You lean over and open one of the drawers, an assortment of items you had bought while he had been unconscious. His eyes widened in fear and excitement as he saw you bring a ball gag to his mouth, “Mmnnoo!! Y-Y/N!!” He tried to beg but you had already sealed his mouth shut.
Then you proceeded to pick up a remote like device you bought, Noah looked at it in confusion while tilting his head. You smirked at how adorable he looked, he didn’t know what he had gotten himself into.
With the click of a button, Noah’s back arched as he felt pleasure coursing through his body. He hadn’t even realised that a vibrator was lodged inside him! You must have put it in while he was unconscious.
“MMMNNGGH~!” He moaned against the gag, his body twisting and shaking, poor little baby was so sensitive!
You turned the vibrator off and he slumped down, his chest heaving, “Now for your punishment, I’m going to leave you here with that vibrator on and you’re going to cum over and over again until I’m satisfied, do you understand?”
Noah’s eyes widened and he shook his head profusely. This wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted to feel you, to touch you, to have you make him feel good; not this stupid toy!
He also didn’t want to be alone, he felt like he’d die if you weren’t near him so he began to cry, “N-noooo!! Mmm stayy!” His voice came out muffle which only made you smirk even more.
It was evident you were a sadist; seeing him whine and beg like that really turned you on. However you were doing this also to make sure it was engrained in his head who was in charge: you. It was to make sure he’d never pull a stunt like this again and would also prove his obedience to you.
“You said you wanted to be my good boy didn’t you Noah~? So be a good boy and take it.” You said sternly, turning the vibrator on once more before walking out of the room, leaving the door open a little bit so you’d hear him.
His moans and cries followed you as he begged for you to come back, but with the gag in his mouth he could only do so much.
Noah’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he came again with a cry, his boxers were now dirty with his jizz. He sobbed as the vibrations bullied his poor prostrate, he wanted you to make it feel better, please come back!
And then he came for the third time, and the fourth and then the fifth. It felt like hours had gone by (it had only been 30 minutes) since you left him in this state; his whole body was shaking as his hips bucked to try and get away from the vibrations but to no avail.
“Nnnngghh~!! ‘S t-too m-much…too much!” He whined, mainly to himself but it came out as mixed garbles.
You finally graced him with your presence and entered the room, your own arousal building up at the sight of him. But you also felt pity on him, it was clear that he had never felt the touch of anyone his entire life—let alone come numerous amounts of times!
He hadn’t noticed you came in yet, his mind was all foggy and hazy; the only thing he could focus on was the vibrations in his ass.
You say next to him and his head immediately darted towards you, tears pooled his eyes and he begged you to make it stop, “P-pleasshh~” He tried to say but the gag and the tormenting toy stopped him from being able to vocalise himself.
You cooed at him and turned the vibrations to the lowest level, yet not quite turning it off yet, “Have you learnt your lesson~?” You ask, and he nods eagerly and tries to get closer to you: to feel your comfort, your warmth, your affection, your love~
You take mercy on him and take out the gag since it was clearly hurting his jaw, he lets out a moan of relief as incoherent ‘thank yous’ and ‘I love yous’ leave his mouth.
“Shhh…it’s okay, I’ve got you~” You whisper in his ear, you gently take his underwear off and take the vibrator out, making him whine, “Mmmh…s-sensitive..ahhnngh~”
He gave you such adorable eyes, pleading for you to make him feel better so you cupped his face, “Don’t worry, I’ll take all the pain away, I promise…you’re my good boy right~?”
As soon as he heard the words, “Good boy,” he immediately nodded like a mad-man, “Mmm your good boy! P-please…please…y-yours…”
You could tell he was extremely exhausted from the torment you put him through, so you untied his wrists and ankles which made him cling onto you like a spider monkey; you let out a soft chuckle, “Noah…you have to let me go…I need to clean you up…”
“N-no! D-don’t go…please…” Tears pooled his eyes yet again, making you coo at him which he melted to.
“Shhh…alright, we can cuddle for a bit but then I have to clean you okay~?” You wrapped your arms around his waist aswell, being careful not to touch his very sensitive lower body.
Noah could still feel the tingles and electricity coursing through his body, but once you held him in your arms—he felt all that pain go away. He snuggled further into you, his face buried in your neck.
“I love you so much…I love you Y/N..” He mumbled against your skin, kissing it softly.
And you found yourself saying something you’d never imagine saying the first day you met him;
“I love you too Noah~”
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Ahhhh! Finally finished this!!
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singmyaubade · 1 year
Text
No Longer Yours
James Potter x Female!Reader
IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)
A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!
Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?
Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.
"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."
She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."
You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."
You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.
"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."
Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.
You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.
And then you got a letter from him saying,
Dear Y/n,
Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?
Sincerely,
Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.
You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.
Bullshit.
"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."
"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"
You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.
She shook her head, "Be safe!"
You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.
You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.
When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.
Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.
But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.
But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.
You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.
Compartment 222.
It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.
You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"
They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.
"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.
You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"
You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.
Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"
"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.
"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.
"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."
You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.
"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.
Your mouth agape, "Lily."
"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."
"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.
"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.
"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."
The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.
You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.
"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.
"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"
"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.
You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.
You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.
"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.
"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."
"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.
"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.
"Give him hell."
"So do it." She said.
They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.
And you had to start not caring about him.
"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.
Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.
Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.
Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.
You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.
You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.
He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.
"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.
"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.
"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.
"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.
"He insisted," Remus shrugged.
"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.
"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.
Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.
"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.
"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.
"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.
Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"
"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.
"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.
Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"
Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"
Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.
"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.
"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.
"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.
You could already tell it was going to be a long year.
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After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.
You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.
"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.
"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.
"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.
You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.
"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.
When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.
"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.
You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.
"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.
You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.
"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.
"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."
You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.
"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.
You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."
He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."
Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.
"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"
He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.
For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.
His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.
Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.
You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.
Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.
You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.
A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.
Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.
What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?
It was stupid and pathetic.
You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.
So you did.
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You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.
You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.
You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.
You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.
You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.
You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.
The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.
They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.
You never considered yourself a liar.
The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.
You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.
You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.
You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.
"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."
You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.
"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.
"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.
He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"
"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.
"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.
You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"
"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.
"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.
"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.
"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.
"Meadows on a date with me."
You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."
"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.
"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.
"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"
"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.
"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.
Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.
You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.
You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.
"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.
"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.
You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.
"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."
"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.
Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.
Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.
Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.
This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.
"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.
"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.
Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.
You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.
James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.
He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.
"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.
He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.
"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.
"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.
You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"
He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.
"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.
"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.
He didn't stop.
"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."
"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.
His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.
Did you really win?
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A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.
taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26
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velvetsainz · 6 months
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summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] charles is away in baku and you remind him of what he's missing. part two.
word count: 1.3k
content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), pwp, use of explicit language, phone sex, masturbation, google-translated french (lmao), a dash of fluff, i like em dashes too much
a/n: baby's first smutlet! i've been writing for like twelve years but i've never posted to tumblr, so here's to first times! there'll def be at least a part ii to this, but i'm also hoping to write for other drivers soon(ish). also giant mega thank you to @multiseb21 + @lecrep for your support—y'all have been so incredibly sweet & i am so thankful for you!! anyways, i hope y'all like this! enjoy, loves! xx
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“Chérie,” his voice crooned over the line, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Don’t tease, mon ange—it’s already hard enough being away from you for so long.”
“Weren’t you the one who said he’d be fine just a month ago?,” you retorted, voice low.  The cards were in your hands now, and Charles was desperate.  He was a nomad lost in the desert and you were his oasis on the horizon, just the sound of your voice enough to slake his thirst.
“Yes, but then you sent me that picture and—” You hear him curse again under his breath, his fist acting as a poor substitute for the velvet heat of your walls. He swore he wasn’t going to let you leave that bed once he got his hands on you again.
Charles wasn’t entirely wrong: you were the biggest fucking tease known to mankind.  Earlier that evening you sent him a semi-absentminded photo of you fresh from the shower, steam still obscuring the best parts of the photo with a fresh white towel around your hips and one gathering your hair on top of your head.  He’d always had something about you fresh from the shower—every time he’d nearly pounce as soon as you’d pad back into the bedroom from the steamy confines of the bathroom, hair wrapped on top of your head just as it was now.  (Part of you thought it was something primal in him: you’d washed away his scent on your skin and he needed to make his territory known again, that horn dog.)  Still, he was ever the gentleman and would make the endeavor more than worth your while.
“Yeah, that was pretty bad of me, wasn’t it?,” you ceded with a knowing smirk on your lips as you sat back from your desk, closing your laptop slowly.  You’d wanted to get a little more work done after your shower, but the Monégasque wasn’t keen to let sleeping dogs lie and needed to hear your voice for himself.
“So bad, chérie,” he agreed with tone of exasperation, a heavy sigh passing through the phone, “And you’re not even here to help a–”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t help in other ways,” you were quick to remind him, the words coming from your mouth quicker than your shame would force you to bottle them up.  Heat was creeping to your cheeks, and you could feel the familiar coil of desire tightening deep in the pit of your belly.
“Are you—?”
“That’s why you called, isn’t it, baby?,” you asked only to get a stifled groan from the other side. “You wanted me to tell you how I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you continued, “how I miss your hands on my hips, your cock so deep—”
“Fucking hell,” Charles practically whines as you push yourself away from the desk now, allowing yourself to relax into the seat of the chair and your hips to ease apart despite every part of you wanting to grind them together to relieve the dull ache that rested between them.
“What would you do if I was there now, Cha?,” you asked softly, hand splayed out over the plush of your thigh, eyes glazing over as you pictured him there with you.  You wanted his hands everywhere; you couldn’t decide where you truly needed him most. Fingers curling against that hidden spot in your tight cunt, threaded through your hair and pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder, gripping your thighs so tight they’d leave bruises that he’d fuss over later—it all sounded like heaven compared to the lonely hell of your shared Monte Carlo flat.
“I want to taste you, mon cœur,” he replied shakily as his breath came faster, the sound of him fisting his cock becoming more and more prominent as time passed; he wasn’t going to last long like this, but you both already knew that—it wasn’t the point of this exercise.  “I’d have you coming on my tongue, let you taste yourself when I kiss you—putain,” the driver cursed once more as his brow furrowed.  He was leaking precum over his ironclad grip and all he wanted was to slide his fingers past your plump lips to feel the wet heat of your tongue take care of the mess.
You let out a tremulous breath over the line, one you hadn’t known you’d been holding onto so tightly until your head started swimming with need.  Your hand had drifted from its origin, rubbing lazy circles over the cotton of the panties you’d slipped into after the inciting picture.  On your top half was a worn, faded shirt of Charles that you’d taken a liking to as a nightshirt—especially when you were missing him as you were so desperately now.
“Need you in me,” you begged, the emptiness you felt so acutely coming to the forefront of your senses, “You always do such a good job filling me—my fingers don’t do you justice.”
You hear a groan on the other side of the line, the man now sitting on the edge of the bed as he tries to keep himself in check.  He wasn’t ready for this to be over so soon; you had him feeling like a teenager again, ready to spill at a moment’s notice. Granted, this wasn't anything new: there's something so intoxicating about you that destroyed whatever semblance of restraint, of control he had over his lust.
“Want you in my mouth, give me something better to do than tease you like this,” to which you received a choked merde, the man hanging on your every word as the hand between your legs abandoned its objective—you could take care of that later.  You were too caught in every little sound that passed his plush lips, listening for every little cue his body so willingly gave you.
“Want your hands in my hair, guiding me up and down your cock,” you keened for him on a whine, his breathing heavy and labored.  He was running at full speed to the cliff's edge, and you were there watching, waiting in the grass. “Want your cum on my tongue, baby,” you whined.
“Promise not to waste any, minette?,” he grunted, gritting his teeth as you hummed your assurances.  “Such a good girl f’me, yes–”
With a strained hiss and a groan he came sloppily over his hand, thankful enough that he wasn’t home in Monaco so he didn’t have to worry about cleaning up the mess he’d made. “Fuck,” he croaked, breathing heavy as he came down from the blinding high your words had catapulted him through.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t been taking care of business when duty called, but something about your voice, the thought of you there…it clutched everything into a higher gear.
“Better?,” you asked, sly smile audible to the Ferrari driver; he didn’t need to see you to know the shit-eating, satisfied smile that took over your lips.
With a tired laugh he nodded, slumping back onto the cool rumpled sheets of the hotel bed as he stared absently at the dark ceiling.  It was three in the morning in Baku, and he couldn’t sleep—the thoughts your cheeky picture had invited wouldn’t let him.
“Get some rest, tiger,” you teased him, knowing he’d have to be awake in a few short hours. You debated sending him another picture in the morning as motivation, tiding him over until you’d join him later that weekend.
“Que ferais-je sans toi, mon amour?,” he asked, sleep heavy in his voice as he rolled the right way onto the bed and running a hand through his hair.  He’d deal with the mess he’d made in the morning along with the flowers he’d send you—he really didn’t know what he’d do without you.
“I guess we’ll never know, hm?,” you replied gently, smile melting into something softer as you fiddled with the gleaming ring on your left hand.
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ellecdc · 2 months
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Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea
So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort
it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶
poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team
It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.
“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.
“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”
“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”
But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.
Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.
“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”
Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.
You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”
Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”
You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.
Perhaps more importantly, neither had James
“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.
“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.
“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.
“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.
“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.
“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.
“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”
“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.
“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”
You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”
With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.
The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.
As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.
Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.
Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.
In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.
“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.
With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.
You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.
Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.
You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.
Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.
Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.
There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.
There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.
The pressure became too much.
You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.
“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”
You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.
“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.
Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.
“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”
“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.
“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.
“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”
“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”
“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.
“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.
“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.
“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.
“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.
“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.
“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.
“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.
“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron. 
“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”
But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.
“Mr. Black.”
“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney. 
“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle. 
“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.” 
You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate. 
“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.
“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”
“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.
“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.
“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.
“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.
“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.
“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.
Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.
“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side. 
“I know.” He whispered back.
“So are you.” 
Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.
“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy. 
“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”
“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle. 
Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead. 
“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.
You nodded and offered him a small smile. 
Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.
“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”
He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.
“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.
James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.” 
You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Just sore.” You offered with a nod. 
“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 
You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching. 
“I need a healer!”
James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking. 
“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”
James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”
“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months
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Charles Leclerc - Arthur, you are not French...yeah Charles, drag his ass!
I’ve been excited to write this chapter! I know that reader is a Red Bull driver, but I am a Tifosi through and through. Charles holds such a special place in my heart (but so does Max). I feel like one of those “breaking my silence – how I got into F1,” low and behold, I got into the sport from that one Ferrari thirst trap where Charles is lying on the couch. Yeah, you know, that one. 
Anywho, I write these little things before I even get to writing the story and sometimes I don’t even know where I’m going with it. I know it's not Christmas yet, but the people spoke - SO HERE WE GO!
Sadly, the tag list is closed to do us reaching the 50 people mark! I never thought that I’d get there though with my story! So thank you to every one of you for making that happen! 
Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all &lt;;3 
Your beanie had started to itch. You had needed it outside due to the cold weather, but now that you were in the car with the heat cranked, it was starting to get a little too warm. As you pulled up to the red light, your hand quickly yanked the hat off. Not to your surprise, your hair was sticking in all directions. That’s ok, you could fix it before you walked into the house. The light turned green, and you had to remind yourself that this was a regular car, on a regular street. Not a hybrid-engine-ran rocket ship that exceeded 300 kilometers per hour on sweet Grand Prix asphalt. 
This year, you had finally accepted Arthur’s invitation for Christmas. Earlier, you had done Christmas morning and afternoon with Max, Kelly, and Penelope. It was everything you could have wished for. And now you were going to spend the rest of the evening with your best friend and his family. You were a tab bit nervous. Sure, you had met them on a handful of occasions, but you tried not to get too close. They were always at grand prixes for Arthur, not you. 
You glanced at the presents that were stacked on the passenger side. The most important one, however, was placed in a bag on the floor. You were not about to let that fall over and possibly break. You knew it was made to be sturdy, but you couldn’t be sure. Arthur had given you the gate key. You pulled up to the little black box and pressed the numbers. You rolled your eyes as you realized that it was just Charles’s and Arthur’s racing numbers squished together. 
Arthur had also reminded you that Lorenzo was not going to be joining due to him being at his wife’s family’s for the holiday. That was one less person to impress you had told yourself. 
You pulled into their driveway and parked your car. It was not as impressive at Charles’s custom 488 Ferrari Pista Spider. It wasn’t as if you were almost drooling at the sight of it. Knowing yourself, you’d probably be too scared to drive it to actually enjoy it. Max also had a Ferrari, maybe he’d let you drive it. 
In a parking lot and not exceeding 5 kph. You snorted. Yep, that was Max. 
You did however, have your eye on two special cars. But you wanted to wait a bit before purchasing. You Pinterest board was full of different ideas, but you had to be careful. Maybe Christian could help you out with purchasing. You technically hadn’t bought this car, it was a gift from Lorenzo. You wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it might be nice to have more than one car. Besides, multiple drivers had multiple cars. You’d just join their ranks. 
Juggling the presents, you walked to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Your face was hardly visible over the tops of the boxes. The door opened and a familiar voice sounded. 
“Mon Dieu, let me help you.” Presents were being taken from the big stack. 
“Thank you Charles.” You prided yourself on being one of the few people who could recognize the difference between Arthur’s and Charles’s voices. He didn’t reply as he took the presents farther into the house. You followed him through the door and toed off your shoes. Your eyes caught all the lights and decorations in the house. Growing up, you didn’t have such things. Your family always said that being in karting was always going to be your present. Nothing more, nothing less. There were no cookies for Santa and no tree to decorate. 
As you walked more into the warm house, the decorations just kept getting better. Where Max’s house was decorated by Kelly who like a clean Christmas aesthetic, the Leclerc household leaned towards the warmer decorations. The lights didn’t necessarily match and flickered colorful light. The stockings weren’t the same color: they showed personality that matched their owner. Even the ornaments weren’t all from the same container. You found Charles staring down at the presents that he had taken from you. 
“Who are these for?” he turned his head to look at you. 
You snorted, “They’re for your family.” His eyes widened as he rubbed his chin. 
“You didn’t have to.” 
You only shrugged as you began to take off your coat, “I felt like I did. You all have been so kind to invite me here on a holiday that I couldn’t come empty handed.” Charles gestured for your jacket and you gave it to him. 
“You can look around some more if you’d like to. Arthur and maman will be back from the store soon.”  Your cheeks heated at the thought of him catching you ogling at his home. You shook the thought away and looked at everything a little bit closer. 
Like all homes seemed to have, there was a wall filled with picture frames. Some were of each child; some had the full family. It was nice to see all 5 of them together in the center one. You cocked you head at one of them though. You all but tiptoed to get a closer look. It was one of Charles and Arthur, and then an unfamiliar but familiar man stood between them. 
“That’s Jules. If you were wondering.” 
You jumped in place, not noticed that he had snuck up behind you. You looked over and saw that a sad smile had graced his face. Arthur had told you little about him. Charles and Lorenzo would always have been much closer to him. 
“I met him once. During karting,” you trailed off. Charles raised his eyebrows. 
“Really?” It seemed as though the breath had been knocked out of him. 
You gave him a comforting smile, “Yeah. My race was right after yours. I think it was back in 2010,” you looked back at the picture, “and you won that day. I watched him cheer for you like he was the proudest person there that day. He was in a racing suit and had a helmet. I thought that he had come straight from a race or something. But, I only remember wishing that I had someone there for me like you had.” 
Charles now had a guess as to what day that was. He vaguely remembered finally beating Max and feeling so happy. But, he didn’t remember Jules having a helmet. He took the picture down so that the two of you could look closer. It was definitely not taken the day that you were talking about, but the way you talked about him intrigued Charles. He gave you a head nod, silently saying to continue. 
“That day, I also won my race. It hadn’t been the easiest, but the boys were too busy pushing each other off that they didn’t even notice me. I was able to overtake and win. The boys though, weren’t the only ones who didn’t notice. My parents weren’t around when I looked for them. I must have turned around so many times, just trying to find them, but I never did. I had taken my kart back to my station when someone tapped me on the shoulder. He scared the ever-loving crap out of me, but he held my shoulder and told me that I did a great job.” 
Your eyes were slightly watering at the confession. Charles just continued to look at you. 
“I knew who he was. He was the man who always cheered for the Justin Bieber look-a-like who liked to push a certain Dutchman off the track, into a puddle, and claim it was just an inchident.” Charles snorted. 
“I did not look like Justin Bieber.” 
“Whatever floats your boat.” He gave you a look. “American expression. Anyway, after he said that he gave me a hug before my dad came stomping over, complaining about something, I don’t even remember. But all I know is that he made my entire day. My godfather wasn’t able to visit that much or come see me race. So, it was nice to have someone in my corner, even if they weren’t truly there for me.” 
Charles hung the picture back on the wall. The two of you stood there for a quiet moment before Charles spoke up. “How’s your godfather?” 
You inhaled sharply. “He died in 2020. Caught some illness in 2018 and wasn’t able to recover.” 
It broke Charles’s heart to hear you talk about it so nonchalantly. 
“Does Arthur know?” 
You nodded your head. “He caught me crying the first year of his anniversary. Made me spill the beans about what happened. He thought he needed to go beat someone up.” You let out a wet chuckle. When did you even start crying? Looking at Charles, you saw that he was crying too. You continued, “Lorenzo, he, uh, died the day before I debuted in F2.” 
Memories hit Charles like an 18-wheeler. That was you? He remembered that most of the F1 drivers had been invited since the F1 and F2 races were so close together. Hell, even Max was given the opportunity to give the winner the trophy. He remembers watching you dominate that race. He watched you offer that trophy to the sky. He saw a hunger that he hadn’t seen in a long time. 
He finally spoke up, “You were incredible.” 
“Thank you,” you paused before adding, “he’d be proud of you. Jules, I mean.” You looked back at the picture and how it seemed right at home amongst the others. 
“Lorenzo would be proud of you as well.” You flashed him a grateful smile, full of teeth. He mirrored, dimples prominent. 
You threw your head back and laughed. Charles cocked his head. 
“What’s the matter?” he barely got out as he began to laugh as well. 
You poked his cheeks, “You and Thur have the same dimples.” Charles rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair. You pouted. “Rude.” 
He was about to reciprocate but the sound of the door opening caught the two of yours attention. Charles quickly pushed you into a dark room. You gave him a confused look before he put a finger to his lips. You smirked back and stayed silent. 
Pascale walked in first followed by Arthur. Charles greeted his mother and then brother. 
“I saw Y/n’s car in the driveway. Where is she?” Arthur looked around the house. 
“She went to the bathroom, but hasn’t come back. I think I scared her off,” Charles faked a sad look.  
Arthur flashed a comforting smile to his brother. “I’ll go find her. Hopefully she didn’t fall in or something.” That almost made you laugh. 
Arthur flipped on the lights to the hallway. This was your chance. He barely got past the doorframe before you jumped out onto him. 
His squeal echoed through the room, laughter following it. In your grand scheme, you had accidentally fallen on top of him. Your giggles continued as Arthur tried to push you off. He finally gave up after a few moments. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, but honestly you didn’t care. You swear you heard a click of a camera, but you disregarded it. 
“Are you done?” Arthur sarcastically asked. 
“No, I’m actually quite comfortable. Thank you for asking though,” you smirked. After a few more moments later, Arthur quickly rolled you off and got up. You let out a huff before making grabby hands at him. He rolled his eyes and pulled you up. 
You were finally able to greet Pascale. She brought you into a hug and did the two kisses. You reciprocated. It came naturally after being teammates with Arthur for so long. You smiled at the memory of him doing it to you for the first time. He was so embarrassed after until you calmed him down enough to say that you didn’t mind. You knew it was a part of his culture and that he shouldn’t feel embarrassed to do so. 
“Thank you for inviting me.” You shot her a shy smile. She rubbed your back before exiting the hug. 
“There is no need for thanks. Arthur has been begging for years.” A noise of protest rang through the air. 
“I have not.” 
“Non, it’s true. He has.” Charles looked at his brother. Arthur had a look of betrayal that sent you spiraling into another laughing fit. 
By the time you were finished, Arthur gave you a look. 
“Where’s you Christmas sweater?” You looked down at the one you were wearing. You thought it looked just fine. It was a nice dark green and Kelly had complimented you many times. 
“I thought this looked nice?” You were beginning to doubt. Maybe you couldn’t do this Christmas thing. 
Arthur shook his head before disappearing down a hallway. 
You glanced at Charles and whispered, “I ruined it didn’t I?” You looked down at your feet. 
“Non gosse, you didn’t ruin anything. Just look.” You looked back up and saw that Arthur now had another sweater in his hands. (translation : no kid)  
“I can’t believe I forgot to give you this. Sorry Y/n, we normally wear ‘ugly’ Christmas sweaters to celebrate. The one you have on is fine, but this is the Leclerc celebration now.” He all but shoved you towards a bathroom so that you could change. You slipped the other dark green sweater on after you took off your first one. 
The front made you laugh. It wasn’t ugly per say, Arthur must have toned it down for you. On the front was the Grinch. It was actually kind of cute if you thought about it. You folded your first sweater and walked out. Now you noticed that Charles’s had a bright orange sweater with a gamer Santa on it; Arthur’s actually lit up; and Pascale had a cute one with a reindeer on it. 
When he noticed your return, Arthur’s arms shot up. “Now you look festive!” 
“How long did it take you to find that one TurTur?” You motioned your finger up and down, pointed at his sweater. 
His arms crossed protectively around it as he let his jaw hang. “I’ll have you know that this is imported.” 
You gave him a bombastic side eye. “Sure.” 
Pascale clapped her hands, “Picture time by the tree!” 
You kind of awkwardly stood there as she took pictures of the two boys. You warmly smiled as she gushed over the two of them. You made your way to the kitchen and picked up two bottles. Were these alcoholic? You squinted at the label. 
“Y/n!” You froze and looked at the family of three. Arthur was snickering. 
“You know you’re not allowed to drink yet.” You rolled your eyes. 
Charles shot you a mischievous smile. “Gosse, come, we’ll send a picture to old Maxy. Maybe give him a heart attack.” 
You smirked back as you walked with the two bottles. You posed in front of the tree with the glasses on either side of you. The four of you laughed as you set them down. You wanted to make a run for it, as to not ruin the pictures, but Pascale insisted that she wanted one of the three of you. 
Your heart swelled as she took a picture of you in the middle of Arthur and Charles. She also insisted to get one of just you and Arthur. Your cheeks heated as you caught her muttering about a picture to show your kids one day. You only hoped that Arthur hadn’t heard. 
He did and his heart soared at the thought. 
Once the pictures were done, everyone was able to have a few snacks and drinks, yours of course being non-alcoholic. 
Then it was time for the presents. The thing you were worried about the most. You soon found yourself seated on the floor in a half circle. Pascale was the only one in a chair, but you didn’t blame her. The boys were the ones to pass out the presents. To your surprise, you had received three presents. Your eyes wanted to water, but you blinked the tears away. 
They all opened the ones from you first. 
Arthur lit up like a Christmas tree (pun intended) when he saw what you had gotten him. The two of you had been shopping earlier in the year, when you had come across a watch shop. Arthur had wanted to buy a specific one, but was heartbroken when they said that they were sold out. But, while Arthur was having a crisis about it, you secretly asked to be put on the waitlist. They had said that they couldn’t be 100 percent that you’d get one, but there was no harm in asking. 
Surprisingly, when you got back for a small break, there was a package from the store waiting for you. You had also taken it to another watch store to have something added. 
“Turn it over,” you whispered, scared of his next reaction. He inhaled sharply at what the engraving read. 
January 25, 2020 – Best Friends for the Rest of Our Live, Keep at it TurTur! 
Arthur quickly clamored over to you and wrapped you in a deep hug. Again, you heard the sound of a camera, but dismissed it. 
Next Charles opened his. It wasn’t as sentimental as Arthur’s but you tried your best. Before hand, you had asked what type of jewelry Charles likes. You knew he was a ring and bracelet guy, but had rarely seen him with a necklace. So, you got him a simple one that he could wear with any outfit. 
He thanked you with a warm smile. 
Pascale was very happy with hers. Knowing that she had a hair salon, you googled many gift ideas for her. But every sing one of them to come up was always a pair of scissors. Wanting to do better, you did some more digging. Finally, you decided on one of those fancy circle vacuums that moves by itself. You knew how your back hurt after sweeping up a floor. You couldn’t imagine how her’s might feel. She also gave you a hug. 
Now it was your turn. 
The first present was from Arthur and it had you in tears. There in a rectangular box was a new pair of Lightning McQueen crocs. 
“You know this is like my third pair right?” 
He only nodded, “Yes, but are those pairs signed by Lightning McQueen himself?” Your eyes bulged as you turned them over. 
You were expecting Owen Wilson’s signature, but when you read it, you laughed even harder. There on the bottom, in fancy script, was Charles’s signature. You looked over at Charles as you wiped your eyes. 
“I’m honored sir.” 
Charles rolled his eyes, and touched his heart, as to accept the thanks. His present wasn’t as funny, but it was appreciated. You guessed that Arthur had told him what your favorite restaurant was because his gift was a hefty gift card. Your eyes widened when you saw the total. 
Pascale’s was very sentimental though. In her present were multiple pictures in frames. Some you noticed that she must have gotten from the internet or had Arthur reach out to Vito. The one that made you tear up was one of the last pictures taken of you and Lorenzo. Your smile was so bright as you held you trophy. You were looking into the camera, but Lorenzo was looking and smiling down at you. Your fingers traced his face. 
You placed the pictures down and brought her into a giant hug. After you were done, you wiped your eyes, overcome with emotion. Arthur clapped his hands to bring everyone’s attention to him. You almost jumped out of your skin. 
“All right, party time!” He raised his arms and started to walk toward the kitchen. 
Your eyes widened as you remembered something. “Wait!” 
The three of them stared at you. You inhaled. 
“I have one more thing. For all three of you.” They looked at you with a puzzled look. You walked over to the counter where you had placed the black bag that you came with. You gestured for them to come over. 
Arthur cocked his head, “Y/n, why’d you bring a helmet bag? We swapped helmets already.” His accent got thicker as he got more confused. 
You shook your head slightly as you let out a shaky exhale. You carefully started to unzip the bag. It was true, what Arthur said. The contents were a helmet. 
“Gosse, is this your new helmet for next year? It’s very outdated and I don’t think this is safe, ” Charles questioned, confused as to why you’d bring a helmet to Christmas. 
However, Pascale let out a gasp as her eyes danced over the helmet, now in your hands. She put her hands to her mouth. She had recognized it immediately. 
“Is this?” The rest of the question went unsaid, but you knew what she was going to say. You nodded you head and handed it to her. She turned it around, expecting all the angles. She let out a wet laugh as she carefully and slowly handed it over to Charles. Arthur stood close, looking at it as well.
“Arthur, before you got here, I was telling Charles of how I was able to meet your godfather,” you started. “And I wanted to tell you how thankful I was for his encouragement. I knew that he had come straight from a race, because he was still wearing his suit and he carried a helmet.” 
Charles made a confused face, “But he didn’t have a helmet. His hands were both empty, because he caught Arthur when he ran over to him after he showed up.” You could tell that his mind was trying to connect the dots.
“Well. He wouldn’t have had the helmet,” you trailed off. Arthur’s head shot up. 
“Because he gave it to you,” Arthur finished. Charles inhaled sharply as he looked over the protective gear in his hands. 
Pascale had come close to you, a hand around your shoulder that rubbed up and down, trying to give some comfort. 
The two boys looked as if they were going to cry. Charles let Arthur hold it. 
“How? Why?” Charles questioned, tears threatening to fall. 
“Well, I thought it had gotten destroyed or thrown away. I left it at my parent’s house, and when I told them I was moving out for reasons, they didn’t react well.” You didn’t want to give too much away. “I was sure that they were going to burn all of my things. But, I went back to see just in case. I was mostly correct; except they didn’t touch my closet. It was hiding in the back behind some clothes.” You remembered crying when you found it, holding it close for comfort. It had been one of the few things that you took from the house back to your apartment in Nice. 
“I also wanted to bring it back, where it belongs.” 
Charles glanced at you and then the helmet between Arthur’s fingers. “But, he gave it to you. You need to keep it.” 
You shook your head. “Jules told me to keep it safe and to hold onto it for safe keeping. I always thought that I’d be able to give it back to him one day. I guess this is the closest thing I can do.” 
Arthur gave the helmet back to his brother and walked over to you. You looked into his big blue eyes, filled with tears. Unable to hold back, he tucked his face into your neck, holding you tight. You squeezed your eyes closed, tears falling down your cheeks. 
You knew that Arthur always felt bad about not being as close to his godfather, like Charles and Lorenzo had been. He had been 15 when Jules died, and you always wished that the family had had more time with him. Pressure was added on your other side. Looking over slightly, your eyes caught sight of Charles’s brown hair. You managed to put your other arm around him. You held the two brothers close, your heart melting. 
Is this what a family is supposed to feel like? 
Max’s family was a different dynamic. Yes, they enjoyed hugs and being close, but it wasn’t like this where you could hold each other for hours. Well, maybe Max would let you, he was so overdue for a giant group hug.
Arthur couldn’t get over the fact that you were so close. He hoped that you didn’t hear his heart racing. He’s waited this long; he can wait a little longer. His tears had dried up, but he never wanted to let you go. Your heart was too big and too fragile for anyone else to have it. But here you were, opening it up to his family. He couldn’t have asked for someone better to hold your place in his heart. He could only dream that you held him close to your heart, as he did with you to his. 
You would never tell him, but you did. 
Charles on the other hand could not stop the tears. He wondered how long you had waited. Shy, quiet you. Before this, he had seen you a couple of times before with Max at the beginning of the break. He’d often run into the two of you shopping or getting groceries. You’d always find a way to give a small wave, before turning to do something else while Max talked to him. He wondered what was so special about you. Max, in all his life, had never looked at something as he looked at you. It was different than the way he looked at Kelly. Heck, he even looked a Penelope differently. Charles had rolled his eyes a few more times than he’d like to admit whenever Arthur would bring you up in conversation. But now, as you tried to comfort him and his brother, he finally understood. You were the family that they were missing. 
Pascale watched as the three of you broke your little hug. Smiles adorned your faces as you held the other close. She wished Lorenzo would have been here to meet you. She had a feeling that he and Charlotte would like you, as her other two sons did. 
Their little celebration started moments after, the helmet at the center. Your smile never left your face for the rest of the night. You were sad that they didn’t let you sneak in one sip of the bottled drink. 
“It’s probably not even good,” you told them as you took a sip of your drink. 
“Y/n it is good. We French know what good alcohol is,” he took a sip. You raised an eyebrow and smirked as you saw Charles gawk at him. 
“Arthur, you are not French,” you watched as Charles put an arm around Arthur’s neck. You were quick to grab his drink so it wouldn’t stain the carpet. “Yeah Charles, drag his ass!” 
Arthur held out a hand, dramatically going down. “My best friend betraying me for my brother. Could this day get any worse?” 
“Charles, you should have heard all the times he said that he was French when we would do videos.” You smirked evilly at the two. 
“Y/n! You weren’t supposed to tell him!” 
“Arthur, how many times to I have to tell you? WE ARE NOT FRENCH, WE ARE MONAGUESQE!! 
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