#Saturday Gaming Session | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shariasweet · 5 days ago

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 𝐹𝓾ck y𝓞u 𝐛e𝐭𝓣er.ᐟ

s.jaeyun 𝒙 f.reader

𝓦c ::: 5.9k 𐙚 𝓢harinote ::: this is like a play on my old roommate jake fic... I miss lilmashae bad smts y'all :( 𐙚 warnin𝓰.ᐟ ::: roommate jake is superrr annoying & hardly considerate · multiple orgasms · teasing · oral (f) · cowgirl - missionary - all the positions · soobin (txt) mentioned (small suggestive scene with him?) · a little bit of dry humping · teasing · fingering (f) · slight degradation (he says something about her being in heat... that's it :/) - praise (jake confesses(?) mid-fuck) · unprotected sex - implied creampie - etc.

each night was worse than the last... every night—they got louder and louder... each girl seemed more desperate than the last.

none of them could top jake though.

you didn't know who had it worse... you, or them.

on one hand, he'd wear the poor girl's out, from late at night to sunrise he’d be fucking them to the hilt. but on the other... you had to hear it—their unbelievably loud pornographic screams and yelps. every. fucking. night.

the audacity of him... only a man so desperate, so shameless could face his roommate (or anyone) with such nonchalance knowing what he gets up to. you pinched your temples hearing the giggles trailing off behind the slam of your apartment's door. about time. his bedroom was one thing—but the living room? oh you couldn't wait to stick it to him…

"you look like shit." you groaned finally stepping foot outside of your bedroom, squinting your eyes at jake's smart remark. your roommate was undeniably handsome... which you take it he must be painfully aware of by the way he parades around barely clothed even after whatever 'lucky' girl has left.

with his stupid toned abs and honey skin... his gorgeous hair—face and his nose... god, that nose… not that you were staring, or into him or anything, but you’re just so sure his nose would nudge up against your—

"i wonder why..." playfully you lifted your hand to smack him on the side. "ouch! seriously? you're not really upset are you?"

"me? no way, but i do feel bad for that poor girl who just left." you grinned. "oh yeah?" jake leaned against the counter beside you as you stretched out for the cereal on the top shelf—only for him to grab it first. "thanks..." you took the box from his hands, emptying it into your bowl before spinning around to dip into the fridge.

"and yeah, you just about wore her out... this might be a new record," you scoffed. "even for you."

"it couldn't have been that bad, not as bad as last week when—"

"so you are self aware then?" you interjected, fixing him with a deadpan stare as you poured your milk. "i guess i am." the man chuckled, it was low—almost teasing as he resumed his spot against the counter.

silence settled between you as you focused on devouring your breakfast of fruity pebbles, but you could feel his eyes on you—carefully watching the way your spoon disappeared past your lips with each bite as his throat bobbed. "do you want some?" you arched a brow, ever so slightly smiling as you sauntered toward the dining table.

"nah," he said, shaking his head. "i'm heading to the gym. hoon wants to squeeze in a few arm workouts before his game tonight." "cool," you nodded, casually glancing at the clock above the door. 11:00 am.

"you coming home? or are you going straight to work after?" you watched as he turned around to face you. "i'm off," he shoved his hands into his pockets. "i’ll probably hang at hee’s with jay afterward though." you nodded again, and this time, your roommate disappeared into his bedroom—assumably to get ready for his ‘gym-date’ with sunghoon.

it was perfect.

if jake was going out with heeseung, he’d be gone for hours—five or six, easily. and if today was like any other saturday between him and sunghoon, their stupid little gym session would last around two hours.

you did the math in your head—jake’d be gone for a total of eight hours, leaving you home alone for… well, all day.

while your roommate might’ve been lacking in the shame department, you weren’t.

you were far more… modest than jake. though, your friends called it sneaky… regardless, you weren’t nearly as prude as jake believed you to be.

you didn’t hesitate to scurry back into your room after finishing up your breakfast. you’d slammed the door shut, heart pounding with anticipation as you snatched up your phone to fire off a text to soobin.

god, it’s been way too long.

normally, you’d be able to see him at least twice a month… but lately? who knew what was up with jake. he’d been impossible. every night, it was a different girl, loud and attention-seeking.

and when he wasn’t tangled up with some random frat-party hookup, he was hogging the apartment—sprawled out on the couch, glued to his game with heeseung, or buried in textbooks at the dinning room table. which, truthfully, wouldn't be a problem... if it weren't for soobin's four roommates.

point was, there was never a moment of privacy… nowhere for you and your fuck buddy to do what you did best—hook up. not with jake taking up every damn inch of the apartment… and certainly not with soobin’s four roommates lurking at every corner.

y/n: soobin ^_^ y/n: wyd later? 11:38 am

sb: hey y/nnie :)) sb: i should be free... what's up, pretty girl? 11:40 am

y/n: my roomate'll be out til late... want to come over? 11:43 am

s/b: yk i do s/b: i'll see you in an hour? 11:47 am

y/n: sounds good, soob :3 read 11:51 am

you grinned to yourself, feeling content.

finally.

you deserved this—maybe even more than jake did. he got his fill on a near-nightly basis while you’d been living in an unintended dry spell for months... though that was about to end.

lost in your thoughts, you hardly even registered the knock on your bedroom door until jake’s voice cut through the silence. "i'm heading out, y/n!"

"alright!" you called back, gnawing on your bottom lip as you listened for the soft click of the front door.

it really has been way too long.

soobin hadn’t been over in what felt like ages and the state of your apartment was proof enough of that... but cleaning was easy though—especially with the adrenaline of your pending dick-appointment practically buzzing through your veins.

fueled by anticipation, you breezed through each chore... from wiping down counters to fluffing pillows, and even lighting a candle to set the mood for the evening. before you knew it, you were in the shower, steam curdling around you as you carefully shaved your legs, scrubbing your skin until it was baby-smooth...

you froze with your heart pounding in your throat.

knock, knock!

with water still dripping from your skin, you heard the sound echo through the apartment. an hour had seemingly passed in no time, with your towel engulfed around your body, you peeked your head out from behind the bathroom door, "just a second!" you could hear soobin's muffled voice behind the thick wood of the door. "mh, take your time!" he called back.

quickly, you patted your skin dry, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and tugging a tank top over your still-damp hair.

finally, after a glance in the mirror, a couple spritzes of perfume, and a deep breath, you skipped out of the bathroom, smoothing your hands over any wrinkles in your shirt before swinging the door open.

"hi." a smile tugged at your lips, glancing up at the tall male in front of you—he looked even better than you'd imagined. whatever built up frustration you had burning in your stomach was begging to be let out. soobin chuckled, reaching out to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. “your hair’s wet.”

“oh! yeah, just got out of the shower.”

his grin widened as you stepped aside, inviting him in. “good to know.” he chuckled as he waltzed in behind you.

awkward as it may have seemed, it wasn't that way for long—the two of you exchanged in small talk before deciding to turn on a movie, casually catching up like friends rather than… whatever label some people might slap onto your arrangement. “how about this one?” you suggested, scrolling through the endless movie options presented before you.

soobin groaned dramatically, though the arm draping around your shoulders suggested he wasn’t all that bothered. “seriously? that one?” “yes, that one.” you scoffed, leaning into his chest. “it’s not like we’ll actually be watching it anyway.”

a smirk played on his lips. “i guess you’re right.”

without anymore time to think, his lips crashed onto yours. the plush of his lips molded against your own at a rhythm unique to the both of you. you found yourself straddling the brunette as he deepened the kiss, your fingers threaded through his hair, his own hands pawing at your sides whilst you grinded into him. "f-fuck." you sighed into his mouth, pleasure winding tight in your core.. you dove into his lips once more, this time your tongue flicking against his bottom lip, coaxing his tongue out of his mouth to intertwine with your own. it felt timeless—kissing soobin.

but unfortunately, time was in fact relevant.

thirty minutes had passed, you and his lips entangled, never neglecting one another as you were completely into one another. "’want to take my time with you, yeah?" he groaned. "s'been so long, 'want to go slow." he murmured against your skin, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

you squirmed, nodding as your breath hitched. “yeah…” it was a shaky exhale—your hips pressed against his growing bulge.

looking back, you’d wish he never said that, because a quickie would’ve saved you from what happened next. neither of you heard the oh-so-soft click of the front door.

and neither of you saw jake standing there, watching—observing—as you kissed soobin like your life depended on it—his eyes bright with amusement as his ‘prude’ of a roommate frotted all over some guy.

"ahem…" he cleared his throat—nothing.

he'd decided to try once more, "ahem," he leaned against the entryway, bag in hand as he toed off each of his shoes.

both of your heads snapped toward him, your heart plummeting straight into your stomach, noticing his shit-eating grin.

“y/n, i just left my change of clothes. i’ll just dip in and grab them, cool?” heat crawled up your neck, your mouth suddenly dry as you scrambled off of soobin’s lap. “y-yeah,” you stammered, cheeks burning up. “fine by me.” soobin added, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

you wish he wouldn’t have said that either.

the two men exchanged small nods, soobin softly waving as jake rushed past. but before he left—because of course, he couldn’t leave without making it worse—he paused at the door.

"i have condoms if you guys need…. i keep them out," jake paused, "just in case, y/n you know where they are." he chuckled, running back out the door again.

you were so embarrassed... if embarrassed were even a strong enough word.

why… why would jake say that—fuck, now it sounded like he kept them out just in case you two ever wanted to… to… damnit.

soobin left soon after your run in with your idiot roommate. he’d tried to play it off, as did you. you both forced a tight-lipped smile as he pulled on his shoes, but you weren’t stupid. you saw the way soobin’s eyes darted toward jake’s room, the hesitance in his voice when he said, “i’ll, uh… i-i’ll text you later, yeah?”

which he didn’t. you don’t blame him.

you’d sat there for a while after he left, silently replaying the moment over and over in your head—cursing jake each time. it was unfair.

the way he’d get laid every night and the way you’d just let it happen… as loud as he was if you really wanted to, you could complain; you could give him some lecture about the ‘shared space’ of your apartment, or respecting each other’s boundaries. but you never did.

the way soobin’s face had shifted when jake made that comment, how he’d suddenly withdrawn, as if realizing he wasn’t the only one in your rotation. except he was. it haunted your memory even now.

what normal roommate kept condoms out just in case? what kind of guy made a joke like that so casually, with no concern for how it might sound?

jake fucking sim.

your anger simmered all evening… not only had you been cockblocked, but you were too upset to even finish getting off, not that your useless little fingers would be any help anyways. and on top of that you couldn’t even bring yourself to text soobin to clear things up.

so instead, you did what you did best when you were pissed off and alone—you curled up into a ball on the couch with a blanket, turning off all the lights and letting the glow of the tv drown out the silence as you soothed your raging frustration by lazing around.

you weren’t sure how much time had passed before you heard the front door click open yet again. jake… you mentally groaned, facepalming. he stepped inside, the soft thud of his gym bag hitting the floor was the only sound filling the apartment. you didn’t move.

he walked past the couch, pausing when he spotted you curled up there in the dark, the flickering light from the tv casting shadows across your face. he sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning toward the kitchen.

a few seconds passed. a cabinet opened, then closed. then, finally—“are you really upset about earlier?” you ignored him, eyes glued on to the screen. “c’mon, y/n.” his voice seemed closer now. you could feel him standing behind the couch, hovering over you. “it was just a joke… you know how i am—how we are..”

your jaw tightened. “was it a joke, jake?”

“obviously.”

“yeah, well, soobin didn’t think it was very funny.”

the room felt smaller, the space between you and jake charged with something you didn’t want to acknowledge—a heavy tension—something sharp, electric, and just wrong enough to make your pulse stutter.

if either of you made a wrong move—you might explode.

he was quiet at first, and for a second, you thought maybe—just maybe—he was going to let it go. but this was jake. and jake never let things go. you know that better than anyone. then, just as you expected, he scoffed. “so? that’s his problem, isn’t it?” you whipped your head around so fast, you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “are you serious?” your voice cracked, the anger boiling in your gut curled tight, threatening to spill over. his problem? his?

jake just blinked at you, his expression unreadable, like this was nothing—like you were making a biggg deal out of nothing.

“what? if he really thought we had something going on, that’s on him. it’s whatever.”

“it’s not whatever, jake!” you spat, turning around to face him, fingers digging into the blanket settled on your lap as your anger spilled over. “you have girls over all the time.” you exhaled sharply, your frustration growing as your stomach bubbled with rage. “every. single. fucking. night. i’m so—god, i’m so pent up. i can’t even invite my fuck buddy over without you interrupting or making some stupid remark like an immature asshole.”

he rolled his eyes, shifting back against the couch as though he couldn’t be bothered to care. “oh, come on—”

“no, jake. just go away.”

but he didn’t. of course, he didn’t. instead, he exhaled dramatically, walking around the couch before slouching down beside you, arms crossing over his chest. his body radiating heat as his presence swallowed up the space between you. you were hot—pent up and breaking down in glittering rage. “so that’s it?” his voice was quieter now, lower… more tedious.

there was something sharp underlying beneath his words, something you couldn’t quite place. you frowned, already exhausted by his antics. “what’re you—”

before you could finish, his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to face his. your breath hitched. jake’s hold wasn’t rough—he wasn’t hurting you—but it was firm. demanding.

his thumb brushed the curve of your bottom lip, his eyes darting between your own and reading your face as he murmured, “that’s it?” his voice was sharp, dripping with ridgidness. “you just wanted a quick fuck? that’s it?” he let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “hah… seriously.”

tears swelled up at the corners of your eyes, shame settling in your stomach. yeah. you did… more than anything in the world—you wanted a searing hot orgasm, a quick fuck, to get off… anything! but hearing him say it out loud made it worse—it made your reality of being denied something so simple even more real.

jake ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard before glancing at you again. “baby,” he drawled, voice thick, and almost condescending. “i could’ve done that for you.”

you froze. “w-what?” your tears seemed to dry themselves, shock washing over you as your bottom lip jutted out into a pout.

he smirked, and something about the way he was looking at you made your skin prickle with heat. “if all you wanted was some stress relief, i thought you’d know me of all people wouldn’t mind.”

his fingers traced along the line of your jaw, featherlight, as he teased you… “i mean, look at you.” his voice dropped an octave lower, his breath warm, fanning against your supple skin. “shit, you’re so fucking pretty—even now… crying because you’re all frustrated over some mediocre dick.”

jake cocked his head, thumb dragging slowly across your plump bottom lip. “not only could i fuck you, y/n,” he murmured, “i could fuck you way better than that guy ever could.” his tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he leaned in just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

“when i’m done, you won’t even remember your name, princess.”

a familiar warmth flared in your stomach, and you hated the way your body reacted, the way your breath stilled, the way your thighs pressed together before you could stop yourself.

jake noticed. of course, he noticed. and god, the look on his face said he was going to make you regret it… the yelling and the back talk.

you barely had time to process anything else before his lips crashed into yours.

it wasn’t a soft landing… it wasn’t sweet. it was hungry—fierce. his hand slid from your jaw to your neck, pressing just enough to make your head spin, tilting your chin up so he could deepen the kiss.

his tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing your mouth open until you had no choice but to let him in… no choice but to let his tongue explore your mouth and tangle with your own muscle. you whimpered against his mouth, gripping the fabric of his hoodie in a weak attempt to ground yourself.

he took that as encouragement, swallowing your muffled moans as he shifted closer, his knee pressing hard against your clothes cunt as he wedged it further between your thighs, his body caging you in against the couch.

jake was everywhere, all-consuming.

he kissed you like he meant it, like he had something to prove, like he knew you’d been thinking about this just as much as he had. and fuck, maybe you had. maybe that was the worst part. his words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. he could fuck you better… you knew it and he knew it.

and even if you didn’t, you’d heard the way those ditzy sorority girls mewl and moan while he fucked their brains out… plunging to deep into their squelchy little cunts it makes them dizzy.

you should’ve pushed him away, should’ve said something—anything to shut him down. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. you were drunk.

because jake was still looking at you like that, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you, like he was daring you to break the kiss first… which you couldn’t. and maybe it was the weeks of pent-up frustration, the way his voice sent a sharp, burning ache straight between your legs, or the fact that he was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his skin—but you broke.

you surged forward, fisting the fabric of his hoodie as your lips crashed against his once more, all teeth and desperation whilst your hips grinded and bucked against his clothed thigh.

“you’re like a bitch in heat, baby.” he laughed.

god. you hated him. you hated how easily he took control, how good he felt, how your body melted under his touch like you had always been meant for this. he bit your bottom lip, tugging slightly before pulling back just enough to look at you, lips swollen, breathing heavy. his fingers brushed against the bare skin under your shirt, just barely, but it was enough to make you shiver.

“see, princess?” he murmured, dark and teasing. “i told you.” his lips ghosted over yours again, barely touching, waiting… waiting for you to lean in, expecting you to fall right into the trap he’d laid so perfectly.

“whatever,” you swore. “just fuck me already.” you frowned, bruised lips on display for him. jake could feel his cock chubbing up behind the fabric of his shorts, creating an obvious tent in his pants. If it were up to him—if you were anyone else… he’d listen.

he’d skip the foreplay and fuck you because god, how could he not ravish you? especially when you’re… well, you.

jake’d had a crush on you since you moved in… of course, you were usually tempting—big eyes staring up at him all cutely with your lips all pouty, all the time. but especially now, more than ever, when you were beneath him whimpering—begging for him to fuck you with your hair tousled all over the place and your eyelids heavy..? he’d be crazy not to savor every moment.

“fuck, y/n… let me take my time with you, yeah? show you all you been missing.” his fingers crept along your nape. “you have no idea…” his lips ghosted your skin once more—traveling further down your neck as he placed sloppy kisses down your scorching skin. “god, everytime i fuck one of those girls i wish it were you.”

your hips buck—chasing the friction of his thigh as you gasp… his confession leaving you stunned. jake’s hand slips beneath your shirt, cupping your breast through the fabric of your bra and prodding around, feeling for the peaks of your nipples.

“s-shit..” you gasp, squirming beneath him, feeling the cool air waft against your skin as he peels your shirt from over your head. “yeah? feeling foggy already?” he coos, “lift up,” he instructs. “wanna see all of you, ‘lemme take this off, pretty.”

his slender fingers nimbly unclasp your bra—-your tits spill free, the mounds of your breast perking up beneath the chill of the air as you carefully fall onto your back. jake’s breath hitches—caught in his throat at the sight of your bare body. “so perfect… just how i imagined.” he continues his assault—kissing down your collarbones until the plump of his lips reach your boobs.

immediately, they latch onto your nipple, he gropes your other breast in his left hand—pinching and rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers. “oh… a-ah! jake…” your hands tangle into his hair.

jake groaned against your chest, teeth grazing the tender skin as he switched sides, giving your other nipple the same eager attention. you writhed beneath him, the wet heat pooling between your thighs making it impossible to stay still.

“god, you’re so sensitive,” he murmured, voice low, laced with admiration and pure hunger. “what else makes you squirm like that, huh?” your silence isn’t enough for him as he softly bites at your chest. “shh,” he hushes you. “it’s okay, you can’t talk sweet girl, i’ll just find out myself, hm?”

his kisses trail downward, slowly and deliberately he nips at your ribs, dragging his tongue down your stomach. each movement coaxes a soft whimper to rip from your throat. you could feel every breath, every graze of his lips, and it was driving you insane.

once jake reaches your waistband, he glances up, catching your gaze—his eyes dark, feral.

“bet you’re soaked already,” jake muttered, his hot breath fans over the flimsy fabric of your panties and he smirks when your hips arch off the couch involuntarily, chasing his mouth.

“knew it.” he grins wide, without breaking eye contact, he dips his head… mouthing over the damp spot of your panties clinging to your core, letting out a filthy moan as he licks a stripe up your covered pussy like you were the one ruining him. then, with such a delicate slowness, he hooks his teeth around the band of your panties, snagging the fabric with his canines.

“let me get these off,” he murmurs, voice reverent, muffled slightly by the fabric. “been wanting to taste you for so long.” he groans. all you can do is nod. you choked out a gasp as he dragged the lace down your hips with his teeth—agonizingly slow. his hands guide them down your thighs as he goes, hands hooking underneath your thighs as he parts them gently, slotting between your legs like he belonged there.

“fuck, y/n… look at you,” he whispered, voice ragged. “so pretty like this… so mine.” he breathes against your leaky, fluttering cunt.

jake didn’t dive in right away—that would’ve been too easy. instead, he takes his time—lips brushing over the soft skin of your inner thighs, tongue flicking out just enough to make you twitch.

he takes a deep inhale like he’s memorizing the scent of your aching core. “you don’t even know what you do to me,” he muttered, he strains— his voice is thick with need. “look at you—already shaking, and i haven’t even tasted you yet.” that oh so perfect nose nudges against your clit, giving you a taste of heaven—a taste of everything you knew you’d needed.

your hands curl into the couch cushions as he finally pressed a kiss to your slit, he dips his tongue into before pulling out, licking a slow, lazy stripe up the full length of your cunt. your breath caught. “f-fuck—jake…”

he groaned like the taste of you was better than anything he’d ever had. “god, you’re dripping,” he rasped, tongue flicking over your clit, teasing it with little kitten licks that had your thighs clenching around his head, yet his strong arms clamped you down.

jake just hummed, gripping your hips to hold you open. “don’t run from me now,” he grinned against your skin, “you wanted this, didn’t you? said you wanted me to fuck you…” and then he devoured you.

no more teasing, or holding back—his mouth latched onto your clit with a practiced precision, his tongue circling, flicking, sucking on your labia like he was starved… one of his hands slid down to press two fingers against your entrance, easing them in as his mouth worked your clit like a madman.

“ohmygod! f-ffuck thank you… thank you!” you cried out, back arching off the couch, moaning his name like it was a sacred chant. “fuckfuckfuck—jake—oh my god—jakejake… ohhh..” his fingers curled inside you, scissoring to stretch your tight cunt out wide… finding that sweet spot with ease as he moaned against your clit, the vibration making your whole body jolt in pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he murmured, voice muffled by your pussy squelching and sobbing against his face. “wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue.” your vision blurred, hips grinding against his face on instinct. you were close—so close—held right at the edge by his relentless tongue and the way his fingers fucked into you, soaking wet and obscene.

he looked up at you from between your legs, lips shiny with your slick, pupils blown wide and the tip of his nose snug against your pelvis. “be a good girl… cum on my face, y/n.”

and with a final suck, he sent you tumbling over the edge.

you came—loud, trembling, toes curling as your orgasm crashed through you. yet jake didn’t stop, he didn’t slow down. he lapped up every drop as you rode out your first high. he was greedy and thorough, tongue dragging through your slicked-up, spit-glistening folds as your thighs trembled around his head.

“shit…” he panted. “you taste even better than i imagined… ‘got such a sweet cunt.” jake barely gave you a moment to breathe.

you were still trembling, thighs sticky with slick and overstimulation. the wet spot beneath you on the couch was still there when he rose above you—eyes lingering over your marked body, shaking, lips glistening with drool. his hoodie was already being shrugged off with one hand.

“still with me?” he murmured, voice almost too soft for how entrancing he looked towering over you. you nodded weakly, eyes foggy and fucked-out. that was all he needed. “good.”

in one swift motion, he pushed down his sweats and boxers… the material pooled around his ankles as he yanked you close to the edge of the couch. his cock was springing free—hitting flush against his stomach, thick, red, and already leaking pearls of precum. you barely had time to take in the entrancing curve of his cock, before he was crawling back over you, grabbing your thighs and lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

“gonna fuck you now, pretty girl,” he muttered, his tip slipping through your folds, dragging slick over your overstimulated clit, slapping against it just to make you whimper. “and you’re gonna take it—every inch.”

then he slammed in—bottoming out immediately. you cried out, “oh my! fuck, please!!” head falling back, back arching as he split you open—no warning, no teasing, just pure and raw.

he buried himself to the hilt with one brutal thrust… already fucking into you before you could adjust. “shit,” he hissed, his jaw clenched tight. “you’re so fucking tight…” jake swore, his balls slapping heavily against your ass.

your nails raked down his arms, clinging to his biceps as you tried to adjust, your body burning from the stretch, the sting, the overwhelming fullness…

he pulled out halfway, then slammed back in—again and again, restless. he was relentless… pacing his hips to snap into you fastly and unforgiving. the sound of skin slapping filled the room, mingling with your lewd moans, and the wet drag of his cock through your cunt was absolutely filthy. “look at you,” he grunted, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to meet his gaze. “already fucked dumb from my tongue, and now you’re letting me ruin you. that what you wanted, huh?”

you could barely speak—just nodding, gasping, whining his name as he fucked into you like he was trying to mold your body to his. you babbled broken sentences, too dumb to speak straight from his cock wrecking you.

“yeah, that’s it,” he growled, “take it—fucking take it.” one of his hands slipped under your thigh, pushing your leg up to your chest as he folded you in half, the new angle making you scream. his bulge fucking through your stomach as one of his hands firmly pressed down. he hit something deep buried inside of you and you swore you saw white.

he didn’t let up, driving into that spot again and again like he knew exactly how to break you.

you were incoherent now, reduced to nothing but nonsense and spit spilling from your lips, your second orgasm already building fast, it was impossible to stop. “come on, baby,” he panted, fucking you harder, rougher. “wanna feel you come on my cock—milk me dry. milk my fucking cock.”

and when he reached down and rubbed your clit with his thumb—fast, ruthless—you shattered. again. your entire body clenched, back bowing off the couch, a sob of his name ripping from your throat as you came hard. you clenched around his shaft, walls fluttering around his cock, sucking him in even deeper as his tip kissed your cervix. jake groaned, stuttering in his thrusts, burying his face in your neck. “fuck—fuck, y/n—i’m gonna come—”

he drove into you one last time and came with a loud, broken moan, hips pressed flush to yours as he spilled inside you, hot and thick spurts of cum gathering around the base of his dick as his load leaked from your throbbing cunt.

he didn’t move for a moment, panting into your skin, both of you a sweaty, trembling mess. then, finally, he pulled back just enough to look at you—hair wild, eyes heavy, lips swollen.

“…tell me,” he said, voice hoarse. “tell me i fucked you better.”

you hadn’t even caught your breath when he pulled back to look at you—cheeks flushed. “y-you… only you. you fuck me better, god, better than anyone could. ‘fucking ruined.” your lips were kiss-bitten, eyes glassy with tears. “fuck,” jake whispered, he was frayed with awe. “look at you…”

you felt his hands on your waist, still trembling from the last orgasm he dragged out of you, but the ache between your legs hadn’t dulled—it’d only sharpened.

still pulsing… his desperation to be better than soobin egging you on… you were too far deep, finally understanding how he got so many girls to crawl into bed with him. you sat up, straddling his thighs. you saw the way his jaw tensed, like he was trying so hard not to lose it, slight confusion clouded his expression as he watched you lean into his chest. “wanna feel you,” you murmured, still trying to catch your breath. “inside.… more.”

his eyes nearly rolled back on the spot. “shit…yeah? c’mere, baby. take it. s’what you wanted, right?”

he leaned back against the couch cushions, legs spread wide as you slid your hand down between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance. he was still so hard—his dick was heavy and leaking, hot and you nearly moaned at just the feeling of him against your folds. then you sank down. the stretch made your thighs shake. your head dropped forward and your mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he stuffed you once again, his cock pulsing inside of you as you took shallow drags at his member.

“oh my god, jake…”

his hands flew to your hips, gripping tight enough to bruise. “jesus—fuck. you feel like heaven, baby.” you rolled your hips, grinding down in lazy circles as you got used to the size of him. he seethed through his teeth, eyes flickering between your bouncing tits and the place where your bodies met as you sped up. “look at you,” he groaned. “riding me so good—fuck, you were made for this. made for me… not him.” he smacked your ass, hard.

your hands pressed to his chest for balance, and you picked up the pace, bouncing now. his cock tugged against your walls just right, hitting that spot that made your toes curl, and you couldn’t stop the stream of breathy moans pouring from your mouth.

“you close already, pretty girl?” he rasped, thumb flicking over your clit. “you gonna cum on my cock like this? ‘gonna fuck me til i’m dry? til my cock’s all empty and sore???” you nodded frantically, eyes rolling back fervently. “j-jake—please, i can’t—” “yes you can. ride it out for me. fuck, you’re so tight—don’t stop, baby, don’t you dare stop—” his hands gripped your waist, helping you bounce on his dick as the two of you got lost in pleasure.

your orgasm washed over you with your back arching and your thighs quivering. you could feel him swelling up inside of you, a deep groan tearing from his throat as he spilled into you, bucking up, fucking more of his cum inside of you, desperate to chase every last bit of pleasure.

you collapsed forward onto his chest, both of you sweaty, shaking, breathless. jake brushed your hair back, kissing your temple. “feeling better?” he piqued, his once teasing tone returning. “shut up.” you groaned.

#shariasweet ༉‧₊˚.#enha smut #enhypen smut #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #sim jaeyun smut #sim jake smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut

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bueckers555 · 2 months ago

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MOTH TO A FLAME — paige bueckers x reader

summary: in which, you’re in a relationship with caitlin clark and it’s great… except for the fact that she can’t fuck for shit. not the way paige bueckers can…

warnings: cheating (for the plot), smut, FILTH, oral, fingering, yk the usual

authors note. something i whipped up after march madness p came back today anyways i dont condone cheating dont startttt this for the plot also this is heavily inspired by moth to a flame by the weeknd

The gym lights buzzed overhead, the air thick with sweat and the sharp squeak of sneakers on hardwood.

Iowa’s practice had just wrapped, and you were leaning against the bleachers, scrolling your phone, waiting for Caitlin to finish her post-session rundown with the coach. She was all business out there—focused, intense, her dark ponytail swinging as she nodded at whatever Coach Bluder was saying.

You loved that about her, the way she owned the court, the way she’d built this empire around her name. But off the court? That’s where it got messy.

Caitlin was your girlfriend—had been for almost a year now. You’d met at some Big Ten event, hit it off over shared laughs and her goofy charm, and it’d been good—solid, even. She was sweet, attentive, the kind of girlfriend who’d text you goodnight from the road and bring you coffee after shootaround.

But in bed?

Fuck, it was like she didn’t know where to start.

She’d try—God, she’d try—but it was all quick fumbles, awkward kisses, and half-hearted moves that left you staring at the ceiling, unsatisfied, aching for something she couldn’t give.

You’d fake moans, plaster on a smile, let her think she’d rocked your world, but every time, you’d end up on your back, staring at the ceiling of her dorm, pussy still throbbing, wet and unsatisfied, craving something she didn’t have in her. It wasn’t her fault—she just didn’t get it, didn’t know how to dig into you, pull you apart, make you scream. You’d fake it sometimes, just to keep her smiling, but the itch never went away.

And then there was Paige. Paige fucking Bueckers—UConn’s golden girl, all swagger and sharp edges, with those blue eyes that cut through you like glass.

You’d known her longer, from AAU days, back when you’d trade barbs on the court and sneak glances off it. She’d always had this pull, this heat that stuck with you, even after you picked Caitlin, even after you tried to bury it.

But Paige knew how to get you—knew every spot, every rhythm, every filthy word that’d leave you shaking. She’d fucked you into oblivion back in the day, before Caitlin, and that memory lingered like a ghost, haunting every night Caitlin couldn’t finish the job.

Your phone buzzed—Paige’s name flashing across the screen, no warning, just a text: “Heard you’re in CT this weekend. Hotel room’s open. 312.”

Your stomach flipped, heat creeping up your neck as you glanced at Caitlin, still deep in her convo, oblivious.

Iowa was playing UConn in some exhibition game Saturday—neutral site, Hartford—and you’d tagged along, figuring it’d be fine, just basketball, just Caitlin.

But Paige seemed to be the flame you couldn’t stay away from, and that text was the match.

You typed back quick, fingers trembling: “Can’t. With her.”

Sent it, locked your phone, tried to breathe. It buzzed again, instant, like she’d been waiting. “She don’t fuck you like I do. Don’t lie—312. I’ll be there.” Your throat went dry, your legs clenching together.

Fuck.

Your throat went dry, your legs shifting as that old ache flared up, the one Caitlin could never touch. You didn’t reply—couldn’t—but Paige knew. She always did.

—

Saturday rolled in fast, the arena a madhouse—yellow and black clashing with blue and white, the crowd electric.

Caitlin was locked in, her game face on, draining threes and barking plays like the star she was. You sat courtside, cheering, playing the good girlfriend, but your eyes kept sliding to Paige—her lean frame cutting through defenders, her grin cocky as hell when she’d hit a shot and jog by, winking at you like she owned you still.

Caitlin didn’t notice, too caught up, but every look Paige threw your way tightened that coil in your gut.

Post-game, Iowa took the W—close, gritty, Caitlin with 28 and the game-winner. She was hyped, all smiles as she hugged you on the sideline, sweat dripping, her arm slung around your shoulders. “You good, babe?” she asked, her voice loud over the noise, her hand squeezing your waist.

You nodded, smiled back, but your mind was already slipping—Paige’s text burning a hole in your pocket, her room number looping in your head like that.

You made the excuse later—told Caitlin you were grabbing something from the team bus, needed a sec to clear your head after the crowd.

She bought it, too busy soaking in the win with her teammates, kissing your cheek quick before you slipped out.

The hotel was a five-minute walk, your pulse hammering the whole way, guilt gnawing at you but not enough to stop. Paige was the pull—the flame—and you were the dumbass moth, wings already singed.

Room 312.

You knocked once, sharp, and the door swung open fast—Paige standing there, still in her UConn warmup shorts and a cut-off tee, her hair damp from a shower, her smirk lazy but her eyes hungry.

“Knew you’d show,” she said, her voice low, rough, stepping aside to let you in. The door clicked shut, and the room smelled like her—clean sweat, citrus, that stupid coconut lotion she always used.

“Shut up,” you muttered, flustered, dropping your bag by the bed, your hands already fidgeting. “This doesn’t mean shit, Paige—I’m still with her.”

She laughed, short and dark, stepping closer ‘til her chest brushed yours, her height forcing you to tilt your head up. “Yeah? That why you’re here? ‘Cause Caitlin Clark’s so fucking perfect?” Her hand found your hip, gripping hard, pulling you in ‘til you felt her heat through your clothes. “She don’t fuck you right—never has. I can see it all over you, starvin’ for it.”

You shoved her back, half-hearted, your breath catching. “Fuck you,” you said, but it came out weak, your body already leaning back into her, that pull too strong. “You don’t know shit.”

“Don’t I?” Paige’s grin turned sharp, her hands yanking your jacket off fast, tossing it to the floor, her fingers sliding under your shirt, nails scraping your stomach. “I know how you sound when you’re actually feelin’ it—how you shake, how you beg. Caitlin ever hear that shit? Nah, she don’t.”

She was right, and it pissed you off.

Caitlin tried, she did, but it was all vanilla, all clumsy hands and quick finishes that left you hollow.

Paige?

She was nasty—knew how to break you down, make it sick, make it good. You grabbed her shirt, pulling her in, your lips crashing into hers—angry, messy, all teeth and tongue, her groan vibrating against you as she shoved you back toward the bed.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” she muttered, her voice thick, her hands rough as she pushed your shirt up, yanking it over your head, her mouth already on your neck, biting hard enough to sting, her tongue flicking over the mark. “You’re still mine—don’t care who you’re with.”

You moaned, loud and raw, your hands clawing at her shorts, shoving them down with her boxers, her skin hot against yours as she kicked them off. She was on you fast, flipping you onto your stomach, her weight pinning you to the mattress, her breath hot against your ear. “She don’t get you wet like this, huh?” she whispered, her hand sliding between your legs, tugging your jeans down rough, her fingers finding you soaked, rubbing slow, teasing circles that made your hips buck.

“Paige—fuck—” you gasped, your voice breaking, your hands gripping the sheets as she pushed your thighs apart, her fingers plunging in deep—two, then three—stretching you, curling hard, her pace ruthless. “Look at this fuckin’ pussy,” she muttered, her voice thick, her fingers sliding through your folds, slow, teasing, your arousal coating her hand, sticky and hot. “Soaked for me—Caitlin ever get you this wet? Ever make this pussy drip like this?”

“No—fuck—no,” you whined, your voice muffled, your hips rocking back, desperate, your pussy clenching around nothing, begging for her. She laughed—low, nasty—her fingers plunging in—three, thick and deep—stretching you wide, your walls spasming, slick gushing out as she pumped hard, the wet slap of her hand against your pussy loud, obscene.

“Fuck—listen to that,” she groaned, her voice ragged, her other hand smacking your ass hard, the sting sharp, your skin blooming red. “This pussy’s mine—always been mine.” Her fingers curled, slamming that spot, your back arching, your moans spilling out—raw, filthy—as she fucked you relentless, her thumb grinding your clit, rough and sloppy, your juices dripping down her wrist, pooling on the sheets. “Caitlin don’t do this—don’t fuck you ‘til you’re cryin’. But I do—I always will.”

You whimpered, your face pressed into the pillow, muffling your whimpers and cries, her thumb grinding your clit, the wet slap of her hand against you echoing in the dim room. Your legs shook, your vision blurring, that sick heat building fast—Paige knew your body like a map, knew how to ruin you, and she wasn’t holding back.

“Fuck—gonna come—” you choked out, your voice wrecked, your hips grinding back into her hand, desperate, chasing it.

“Not yet,” she snapped, pulling her fingers out fast, leaving you empty, aching, your whine pitiful as she flipped you onto your back, her eyes blazing—wild, possessive. “Wanna see you when you do.” She shoved your legs up, hooking them over her shoulders, her mouth crashing between your thighs—hot, wet, her tongue flicking fast, then slow, dragging over your clit like she was savoring you.

“Paige—shit—please—” you begged, your hands in her hair, yanking hard, your back arching off the bed, the sheets sticking to your skin, damp with sweat. She sucked hard, her fingers sliding back in—three, deep—curling fast, her groan vibrating against you as she licked you clean, her eyes flicking up, watching you fall apart.

You came—hard—a scream tearing out, your thighs clamping around her head, your body shaking, slick gushing against her chin as she worked you through it, her tongue relentless, her fingers pumping ‘til you were a trembling mess, sobbing her name. She didn’t stop ‘til you pushed her off, gasping, your legs twitching, the room spinning.

She pulled back, wiping her mouth with her wrist, her grin cocky, smug, climbing up to straddle your hips, her hands pinning your wrists above your head. “Still think she’s enough?” she muttered, her voice hoarse, her arousal dripping onto your stomach as she rocked against you, chasing her own high.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, breathless, your hands breaking free to grab her hips, pulling her down harder, your nails digging into her skin as she ground against you—slow, then fast, her breath hitching, her abs flexing under your grip.

“Fuck—yeah,” she groaned, her head tipping back, her hands gripping your thighs as she rode you, her clit slick against your stomach, her pace frantic now, her moans low and real. “Shit—gonna—fuck—” She came quick, a shuddering gasp, her body tensing, her release hot and wet against you, her hands slamming into the mattress to brace herself as she shook.

You lay there—panting, tangled, the room heavy with sex, guilt creeping in slow but drowned out by the buzz of her. Paige flopped beside you, her arm slung over your chest, her breath ragged, her grin lazy but real. “You’re fucked up for this,” she said, her voice rough, teasing, her fingers brushing your jaw. “But you’re mine—always gonna be.”

You didn’t answer—couldn’t—your phone buzzing somewhere on the floor, Caitlin’s name probably lighting it up, but you didn’t move. Paige’s heat lingered, her scent all over you her, breath hot against your cheek.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #wlw smut #uconn wbb #uconn #wlw post #smut #paige buckets #caitlin clark

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on-a-lucky-tide · 4 months ago

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Simon's glad for his mask while he's watching Price teach hand to hand combat like it's an art form while having, only three days prior, watched that same man batter a mercenary to death with a breaching tool after snarling "fuck off" like he was being inconvenienced halfway through a Saturday night drinking session.

"Paragon of grace, sir," Simon says as Price walks by to grab his water and towel.

Price, who by now can figure out Simon's train of thought with just a glance, growls. "Suck my dick, Lieutenant," he says very quietly, his expression passive so no one else is any the wiser.

Simon, never to be outdone, folds his arms. "Name the time and place."

Price walks away, rolling his eyes. He doesn't realise it's a genuine offer. Simon decides to up his game.

#simon ghost riley #captain john price #ghostprice

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alluringnectar · 1 year ago

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bbf!ellie x femme reader

warnings: sweetheart!reader, gamer!ellie, praise, fingering (r! receiving), tension

SFW

🎀 bbf!ellie who comes over every saturday to play videogames with your brother .

🎀 bff!ellie who says ‘she’s not thatttt bad’ when your brother rants about how annoying you can be .

🎀 bff!ellie who sleeps over sometimes .

🎀 bff!ellie who sneaks up at you in the middle of the night .

“shouldn’t you be asleep?” asks ellie .

“shouldn’t you?” you giggle .

🎀 bff!ellie who went to your room when your brother had fallen asleep .

you were sitting in your vanity, applying your skincare .

“you do this every night?” ellie whispers, leaning on your door way.

🎀 bff!ellie who ends up being straddled by your legs while getting a face mask done .

“can i take this off now?”

“patience, els .”

🎀 bff!ellie who got nervous after hearing the nickname you give her .

🎀 bff!ellie who takes you as a plus one along with your brother .

your brother went to go hangout and flirt with other girls .

feeling stressed, you decided to let loose a little by a couple of shots .

you’re drunk now, stumbling and hearing the clack of your heels makes ellie bring you outside .

🎀 bbf!ellie who makes sure you’re okay and puts you in the passenger seat .

“what about my brother?”

“he’ll live,” ellie coos while buckling you in .

🎀 bbf!ellie who tucks you into bed and kisses your temple

“mmmm, stay ellie”

🎀 bbf!ellie who stays in your bed, hands wrapped your waist .

🎀 bbf!ellie who wakes you up with arguments with your brother .

“why the fuck did you leave me!”

“your sister was drunk , i was worried!”

“why the hell do you care about her so much, she’s annoying as fuck anyways .”

“because i like her!”

it was silent, but your brother was no longer angry .

🎀 bbf!ellie who rings the doorbell one night .

“what are you doing here els, my brother isn’t here”

“uh, i know . i actually wanted to see you .”

your brows perk up.

“oh?”

“look, i really like you.”

you roll your eyes .

“took you long enough”

you press your lips against hers, twirling her own hair with your fingers .

“so are we together now?”

🎀 bbf!ellie who can’t get enough that every time she walks into your room it turns into a makeout session .

🎀 bbf!ellie who teaches you how to play video games using her own controller .

“like this?”

“no, its L3 .”

“ where the hell is L3?”

🎀 bbf!ellie who teaches your brother how to be nicer to you .

“man don’t talk to her like that !”

🎀 bbf!ellie who compliments you every time you groom yourself .

“my baby looks so beautiful .”

NSFW

🎀 bbf!ellie who covers your mouth while fingering you .

“shhh- it’s okay baby you can take it .”

🎀 bbf!ellie that leaves your core warm when you see her hitting combos on her controller .

🎀 bbf!ellie when your guys make-up sessions turn into make-out sessions

🎀 bbf!ellie who’s always delicate and gentle with you .

“hey, is this okay?” as ellie rubs circles on your waist leaving kisses on your collarbone .

“yeah els keep going .”

🎀 bbf!ellie while she’s eating you out holds your legs in place for you won’t squirm around

“you can take it” she coos, putting hair behind your ear .

🎀 bbf!ellie who’s amazing at aftercare, and never leaves you once done .

🎀 bbf!ellie who loves you more than you brother .

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ceesimz · 5 months ago

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Good News

Alexia gets injured, and you're left dealing with two upset children.

tw: hospital, concussion, loss of consciousness, though nothing too serious. smidge of angst, then just fluff.

One piece of advice you were given about raising two young children together was that having a tight routine for every week would make everybody’s lives so much easier. And god was it true.

There was a whiteboard calendar on the kitchen wall, tagged by drawings from both your children that were not to be removed, otherwise there would be tears, which set out how each day would go – from meals, to appointments, training sessions for both Alexia and Anaís, work meetings, Oriol’s nursery days and Anaís’ homework due dates. It was the simplest thing, yet it brought so much efficiency and, rather unexpectedly, joy to your family’s lives.

The marked occasion that brought the most happiness was when there was a home game set to be played for Alexia, with it being written on the board in big, squiggly letters by Anaís in red and blue pen. Going to watch her captain Barcelona whenever there was a weekend game at home was easily the most anticipated event of the week when one was on, and though you had been attending your wife’s games for many years now, nothing compared to going with your children in their matching shirts sat beside you as you watched Alexia do the thing she did best.

Against all expectations, it wasn’t that difficult to keep Anaís and Oriol entertained throughout the whole game, the six-year-old and three-year-old both infatuated with the sight of their Mami running up and down the pitch, leading her team towards win after win. Even if Oriol didn’t have the same strong interest in football as his sister did, though he was still a toddler so there was plenty of time for that to possibly develop, he still kept a close watch on the game. Deep down, you and Alexia both recognised that it may be because of his separation anxiety and how he loved to be able to watch her through the whole thing, even when she didn’t have the ball. It didn’t matter though, because Alexia had her family all in one place as she represented the other most important thing in her life – Barça – and you were able to relax in a familiar, comfortable, and safe setting.

However, the shouting from your football-crazy daughter wasn’t always so relaxing, as it seemed her skills weren’t the only thing she picked up from her Mami when it came to a football pitch. For your liking, there had been way too many times that she had to have a… gentle talking to from the referee during her own matches. Apparently that habit had transferred to watching Alexia’s games too, except you couldn’t help but smile at it.

A league game against Real Betis fell in the middle of November, and the Saturday evening it was played was an especially cold one. Anaís, as always, was barely even bothered by it, her attention solely on the game in front of her. Oriol, however, wasn’t such a fan, even with a blanket around him and wrapped up in your arms on your lap. At an unfortunate moment, your attention was on him, oblivious to the events that occurred on the field.

“That is a foul! No! Vete a la mierda, árbitro!” Anaís shouted, standing from her seat and slamming her hands down on the railing in front of her. Of course, her less than appropriate language for a six-year-old instantly caught your attention.

“Excuse me! Do not say things like that, Anaís! You are far too young to be speaking like that, if I catch you saying anything along the lines, you will not h-”

“No, Mama, look! Mami g-got hit in the head b-by the goalkeeper!” All the fighting talk had left Anaís, instead completely and utterly wracked with anxiety at the scene she had just watched.

“What?” You stood beside her, clutching a disgruntled Oriol against you rested on your hip as you casted your eyes over to the commotion Anaís gestured to.

And she was right; Alexia was lay on her back, the referee and players of both teams desperately waving the medical team over as Irene held her head steady in place and spoke reassuringly to her. In short, it was a horrifying sight for you, nevermind for two young children.

“Mami, no…” Anaís sighed anxiously, crossing her arms on the railing and resting her forehead atop them. You immediately recognised the tremble to her voice which indicated she was getting upset, understandably, so brought a hand down to rest comfortingly on her back whilst you got your bearings.

As it turned out, as the ball was crossed into the box from the corner, Alexia jumped up to header it at the same time the goalkeeper reached out with both fists to punch it out. Unfortunately, those two things didn't combine to work out well. The goalkeeper mistimed her jump and instead ended up hitting Alexia in the side of the head with a worrying amount of force.

“Qué, Mama?” Oriol pulled back from your hold a little to get a glance at your face, somehow sensing the concern about whatever had happened.

Of course your kids would turn to you in a time of need, especially at a moment like this, but in truth you had no idea what to do. What could you do? You didn't know if Alexia was okay, if she was in pain, if she was talking, or even if she was conscious. You wanted to watch to make sure she was okay, whilst also wanting to protect your children from any unwanted memories if it all went south.

In the end, your own stomach-churning anxiety won out.

“Mami might have just hurt herself, she'll be okay but she needs to get looked at by the medics. Let's, um… stay here a little longer and see what happens, alright?” You spoke in a soft tone, desperately trying to keep the panic out of your voice for the sake of the two pairs of brown doe eyes, just like Alexia's, that stared up at you. “She'll be okay, she will.”

It was more of a sentiment for yourself rather than your kids, a plea to whoever was listening that they'd hear your words and make them true. All you could see was a crowd around the woman you loved, and very little of her apart from her still body. There was nothing you could do but watch.

“Mami, get up!” Anaís shouted at the top of her voice, ringing out into the stadium as a couple hundred heads turned in her direction.

“Shh, it’s okay, nena, it’s okay.” You soothed her gently, guiding her to sit back down beside you as Oriol began to fuss.

“Qué pasa?” Oriol whined, rubbing his eyes before straining up to get a look at the commotion on the grass.

“Venga, Ale, por favor.” You whispered under your breath, then turned to your son and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry, Oreo, she just needs a few minutes and she’ll be alright. We’re all okay.”

Unfortunately, for this matchday, it was only the three of you out of Alexia’s circle that could make it to the game. That left you on your own to deal with this situation, one you never could have anticipated, even if that was naive considering how rough football could be sometimes. It took everything within you to keep composure; if you were on your own, you surely would have broken down by now. Having your children with you throughout this was as much a blessing as it was a curse.

On the other side of the pitchside barrier, lay on the cool damp grass, Alexia blinked a couple times, coming back to herself after a brief period of unconsciousness. Immediately, as her vision began to unblur slightly, she groaned at the intensity of the stadium’s floodlights, bringing a hand up to cover her eyes.

“Woah, woah, woah, no hagas eso, Ale. Quédate quieto, trata de no moverte.” Irene told her, though the words hardly registered in her ringing ears. Her head was throbbing, she felt the pain deep in her temple, and the careful chaos around her of her teammates and opposition players and physios didn’t help in the slightest.

“Mi cabeza.” She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut and swallowing the lump in her throat. Whether it was one of emotion or due to the nausea she had, she wasn’t sure, she couldn’t exactly think straight. “Me duele.”

“Lo sé, pero no te muevas.”

Not a second later, the medical team began their head injury protocol. They checked that she still had feeling in her legs, that there was no pain in her neck or spine, they did the horrible task of checking her pupil dilation which almost made her sick there and then, and a few more tests.

The only thing you saw was the stretcher that was brought over.

“She’s not getting up!” Anaís cried into her hands, turning to hide her face in your shoulder. To make matters worse, the sounds of his sister soon had Oriol reacting in much the same way.

“Mami.” He sobbed loudly, and before you knew it, there were tears of your own burning your eyes. You willed them away though and held both of them closely, bouncing your son on your knee and quietly shushing him, whilst rubbing a hand up and down Anaís’ arm.

“We will be able to see her soon, don’t worry. She’s okay, you’re both okay.” You were a little speechless, lost with what to say in such a moment. And with each cry that they both let out, you got more and more anxious. There was literally nothing you could do. At that realisation, your first tear fell. “We’ll… we will see her soon. We will.”

Alexia’s mind felt inexplicably foggy. But in one of the worse moments of her football career, there could only be one thing on her mind.

“No, no stretcher. Por favor, para mi familia.” It took almost all her remaining energy to get her words out, though the thought of you and her children was enough incentive for her to push through the exhaustion she felt. “Por favor.”

“Crees que podrías caminar?” One of the physios asked rather disapprovingly. Another of them was already on the radio, asking for a bed to be ready waiting for them on the sideline to wheel her down the tunnel to the exam room.

“Sí, sí.” The only reason they allowed it was because she passed the initial assessments, deciding she only had a concussion, though the severity hadn’t been decided yet. However, they knew they couldn’t persuade her to get the stretcher just in case, especially with her reasoning being her family.

Never, in your whole life, had you felt more relieved than you did when Irene stood up from her spot by Alexia’s head, turned to scan the stands, before raising her hands to give a thumbs-up over to you. Alexia was okay.

“Look! Tía Irene says she’s okay, Mami is alright. She’s okay.” You breathed out shakily, hugging them both tighter to you as you closed your eyes and willed yourself to calm down. “Mami is safe, she’s okay.”

“I don’t like it.” Oriol sniffled, nuzzling his face into your neck as Anaís went quiet and kept her eyes on Alexia.

“I know, I know. It’s over now though, mi hijo, everything is alright. We will go and see her as soon as we can.” You weren’t too sure about that, when you could go and see her, since it was only thirty minutes into the first half. Whether you could go down at half-time or you had to wait until the end of the game, you weren’t sure.

“Football is scary.” Anaís muttered under her breath. You couldn’t help but smile at that, unsurprised at the statement leaving your daughter’s lips.

“It is. I’ve been watching Mami’s games since before you were born, chiqui, and I still get very scared. I get scared watching your games too.” Your best bet right now was to try and keep the pair distracted, take their minds off the whole situation.

“I don’t want to play football right now.” Anaís grimaced, shaking her head.

As you went to reply, something along the lines of supporting her no matter what she does, her gasp cut you off. Again, you turned your attention back to the pitch and saw Alexia was now sitting up, her head still being supported with hands on either side of her face. Though it wasn’t the best thing you’d seen, in this moment it was all you needed for the larger parts of your anxiety to dissipate. You saw her lips moving as she spoke, obviously too far away to know what she was saying, but you knew that being able to hold conversation after a head injury was a sign that there was nothing bad underneath the surface.

She had a concussion, at worst. You could deal with that. Sure, it would be a challenge, having to manage that whilst navigating how to explain such an injury to two young children, but you were just thankful she was okay.

The overwhelming relief you felt only doubled when, rather lacklusterly, Alexia was helped to her feet. She swayed as her head span, hit hard with some dizziness, the arms wrapped around her waist whilst hers were lifted over the physios’ shoulders either side of her keeping her steady. Slowly, with the applause of the stadium, she made her way off of the pitch, much to the delight of Anaís and Oriol, the latter with a small smile on his face at the sight. His adorably shy expression further eased your concern, lightening the heaviness that had settled over the three of you throughout it all.

It didn’t feel so burdening when she clambered onto the bed waiting for her, since you knew she was well enough and it was most likely precaution. In fact, you had a feeling they had told her to get on the stretcher, but she denied it. You knew her too well, but you didn’t have it in you to be mad at her for it. Not in this case, where for a few minutes you were worried if she was even awake or not.

Once she had been wheeled down the tunnel and out of view, however, you didn’t really know what to do. Your attention on the game now was miniscule, as were your children’s. You had your family pass with you, as always, though whether the rules allowed you to go down to Alexia before the match was over or not, you had no idea. With the state that Anaís and Oriol were in, it was only a matter of time before they got antsy and stressed about their Mami again. The relief that she was somewhat okay would only last so long.

Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to figure out a plan of what to do. Hardly any time passed between Alexia being taken off the pitch and your phone ringing, her number at the other end.

“Hello? Ale?” You answered desperately, noticing the way Anaís and Oriol’s faces lit up with hope at the mention of the brunette’s nickname.

You should have expected it, but it wasn’t Alexia who answered, it was one of the Barcelona staff. Obviously Alexia wouldn’t be able to use her phone, especially so soon after, though your disappointment barely had any time to sit and fester when you were told you could go down and see her. You barely got two words out to your children before the eldest was up and out of her seat, looking around frantically as she tried to figure out where to go to get to her Mami.

Thankfully there was someone there to take you, guiding you through the eerily quiet stadium corridors as the game carried on, two tiny hands holding tightly onto your own. It was during this brief respite, as you let the member of staff lead you to your wife, where the reality sunk in of just how tight-knit your little family was. The smile that grew on your face at thought, a silent but overwhelming feeling of love settling in your chest, and it only intensified when you looked down at the children, your children, beside you and realised how caring and thoughtful they were growing to be. Not only that, but those aforementioned traits were a testament to what an incredible parent Alexia was. They idolised her, and it was more than you could have dreamed of when it came to being a mother. Alexia was more than you could have dreamed of as a co-parent. There was no one else in the world you could do it with.

“She is just in there.” The staff member said, gesturing to the door just ahead of you.

Anaís and Oriol went to rush towards it, but you stopped them gently.

“Mírame y escucha.” You said quietly, crouching down before them. They nodded and gave you their full attention, Anaís even wrapping an arm around Oriol’s shoulders, a sweet gesture that made you smile. “When we go in, we have to be very, very quiet. Mami hurt her head, any loud noises will make it hurt even more. You can hug her but you must be gentle, she will probably be in a lot of pain and we really don’t want to make it worse, alright?”

Again, they nodded, Oriol growing a little timid as his bottom lip jutted out. You smiled sadly at him and scooped him up, before nodding at Anaís for her to open the door. The young girl knocked on lightly, just as you instructed, then opened it and stepped inside.

To no one’s surprise, the room was mostly dark, save for one lamp by the desk in the corner of the room. There was just enough light to be able to see, whilst keeping it dim enough to prevent any extra harm for the midfielder that lay on the bed, her hands linked together over her eyes. At the sound of the door, she lifted one up so that she could peek out with one eye, and she gave a quiet sigh of relief at the sight of her family entering the room.

“Hola, Mami.” Anaís whispered, and Alexia responded with a small wave. Oriol was more reserved, instead sticking by your side and hiding behind your leg slightly when you put him down. Not because he was scared of Alexia or anything like that, it was simply because he was worried. And it warmed your heart.

“Come on, Oreo, you can go give her a hug.” You told him. He hesitated slightly, but once he saw Anaís head over, he followed suit.

“Tas bien?” Anaís asked, standing beside her bed and looking at Alexia with wide eyes. Even in her depleted state, Alexia could see clearly then just how much of a mirror image her daughter was of herself. It made her smile, despite it all.

“Sí, bien. Head hurts a tiny bit.” The midfielder pinched her finger and her thumb together, and she felt the weight of the day lessen at the sound of the young girl laughing at the gesture.

“That was scary.” Anaís mumbled afterwards, a frown on her face. Alexia’s chest tightened, knowing how terrifying the scene must have been for the three of you, and she couldn’t help but feel bad about it.

“Lo sé, princesa. Lo siento.”

You heard the apology from her and went over then. Her voice was tainted with guilt and you couldn’t bear to hear it, she was involved in a horrible injury and had the audacity to apologise.

“No, Ale, don’t apologise.” You said, resting a hand on her knee and stroking the goose-pimpled skin there. “We’re really glad you’re okay. Please don’t apologise. Just rest.”

Alexia had experienced first hand what happened when she didn’t listen to your advice… receiving a lecture from you was the last thing she wanted then. Plus, she was so completely exhausted, she could barely string a thought together. So she lay back, flashing you a small smile as that was all she had the energy to muster, and let out a deep breath.

“Mami?” The sound of Oriol’s quiet, slightly trembling tone near enough broke Alexia’s heart.

“Sí, chiquito, ven aquí.” You saw her grimace and gulp as she shifted up the bed a little and waved her son over. She was pushing her limits just so she could comfort her children.

“Take it easy, you.” You warned her warmly, watching as she tentatively cupped Oriol’s cheek and smiled down at him.

“I’m okay, Oriol, I promise. I promise.” She stated. He nodded after a moment and smiled back. “I love you. All of you, so much.”

“We love you so much too, Mami.” Anaís replied in an instant. Alexia looked up at you after she said it, the emotion in her eyes conveying just how much this moment meant to her.

That you were all there for her, straight away, when she needed it the most, it made everything that bit easier.

And despite it not being the most convenient thing in the world, you and your children went with Alexia to the hospital for further checks, as the team had decided just to be sure. A head injury was obviously something not to be taken lightly, hence the visit. Before you left though, you made sure she was comfortable; swapping her boots for some sliders, removing her shin pads, and helping her put on the hoodie she wore to the stadium. She was still in her kit, which wasn’t ideal, but the main focus was getting her to the hospital. You would take care of her when she got home.

As expected, all of Alexia’s movements were slow and lethargic, and the car ride was nothing short of torture for her. Each bump, every press of the brakes, felt like someone was knocking directly on her skull, heightening all the aches and pains she already harboured. Thankfully, there was a nurse waiting at the entrance thanks to the club calling ahead, a wheelchair for Alexia so she didn’t exert herself any harder.

She had a head scan and the four of you waited in the waiting room for the results. With the hood of her jumper up and sunglasses seated on her nose, she had an arm wrapped around Anaís’ shoulders where the young girl sat to her left, and a hand rubbed up and down Oriol’s back as he sat on her lap. Her eyes were closed, you could see from her right side, and she had her head resting back against the wall behind her. The picture in front of you was one of love, one that perfectly summed up your family. Alexia was your rock, Anaís’ rock, Oriol’s rock, it was so clear to see.

As cliche as it was, you fell harder and harder for Alexia everyday. Especially at times like this, where the beauty of her character shone through the darkest moments.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait long and soon she received the all-clear from the doctors, telling her there was definitely nothing concerning under the surface and that she did indeed have a concussion. With the instruction to rest for the foreseeable future, no screen time, and as much peace, quiet, and darkness as possible, you were all sent back home.

Two emotionally exhausted children trudged their way upstairs, it now being past the time they should be asleep, as they went to brush their teeth together and change whilst you led Alexia to the kitchen. You kept the lights off, only switching on smaller, less intense ones like lamps or the under-cupboard LEDs in the kitchen, and the brunette leaned back against the counter as you searched for some painkillers she could have. The doctor gave you a list of the ones she was safe to have within the first twenty-four hours of the injury, and when you found some that were suitable, you popped two out of the packet and got her a glass of water.

You watched as she took the tablets with ease and finished off the drink before placing it down beside her with a sigh. She looked at you afterwards, noting the sad smile on your face, and tugged your shirt to pull you closer into a hug.

“You okay?” She asked, at which you scoffed and shook your head when you leaned back in her arms.

“Forget about me. I’m not the one that just went to hospital for a head scan.” You teased lightly, glad to see the slither of a smile that appeared. “It was scary, but all that is forgotten now we’re here. Anaís and Oriol are probably still a bit shook up. All they need is to see you’re okay, which they have, and for you to get better, then they’ll forget about it. Don’t worry about us, I’ll take care of everything. All we need you to do is focus on getting better.”

“Thank you.” You pressed a soft kiss to her cheek then and hugged her once more, glad to have her back in your arms and in one piece. Whilst embracing her, you slipped your hands under her hoodie and shirt, where you felt just how ice cold her skin was.

“Ale, you’re freezing.” You frowned.

“Lo sé. I will have a shower.” She muttered, every word coming from her mouth ladened with tiredness.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want you falling if you get dizzy.” You said, and she made a reluctant noise of agreement. “How about you have a bath? It might help you to relax.”

There was a minute nod against your shoulder which was all the confirmation you needed.

Alexia led you both up the stairs, mainly because you were worried she would lose her balance, and headed in the direction of Anaís’ room whilst you went to your ensuite to run her a bath. The Barcelona captain walked into her daughter’s room and found her in bed, under the covers, with her brother beside her. They were flicking through one of their favourite books, only looking at the photos since they couldn't read on their own yet, and really it was an adorable sight. However, upon Alexia entering the room, they swiftly lost interest in the story in front of them.

“Dulces sueños, mis amores.” Alexia said to them softly, sitting on the edge of the small bed and holding her arms out.

Carefully, the pair scrambled to hug their Mami, each one sitting either side of her and wrapping their little arms around her torso. They were gentle in their movements, ensuring they didn't cause Alexia anymore pain, and it was the perfect remedy for their concern.

Their Mami was at home, not quite happy but definitely content and healthy, and sandwiched in a hug that was more than just a wish goodnight. It put the earth back on its tilt and sent it spinning again, it hung the stars and the moon back in the sky with the silver light from the latter creeping in through the gap in the curtains and providing an extra layer of serenity to an already priceless moment. All was right in the world again, the only thing missing was the bright, joyful energy of a certain blonde midfielder. It had been dimmed temporarily with this new injury, but her kids were wise enough, even at their young ages, to know it'd be back soon.

That's the joy of parenthood: the result of two tiny humans spending so much time with you and Alexia was that your personality traits unknowingly passed down to them. What they saw, they could be. The love, care, and admiration they witnessed between their parents and the happiness that consequently spread through their home was more than enough motivation for them to try it out for themselves. And in their every action, they mirror the love and the lessons you’ve given them, a reflection so pure and beautiful that it winded you sometimes. You were both so proud of the people they were becoming, and Alexia frequently reminded you that it was all down to the way you parented them. Each day you saw their sleepy faces in the morning and tucked them into bed at night, there was always a sense of disbelief present. You felt so much pride towards them, you couldn’t believe they were your children. You promised yourself to never take your time with them for granted.

You came in not long after, guilty that you had to split the three of them up but insistent to keep a stable routine, especially given the difficult day that had been had. Anaís and Oriol held onto Alexia for a minute or two longer and you let them, knowing that each of them needed it more than they could ever describe. The woman you loved turned to kiss their foreheads and squeezed them tighter briefly, before Anaís pulled away and got back under her duvet, her favourite teddy in her hand. You took your turn in wishing her goodnight, telling her you’d come back to check on her in a little while, and then scooped Oriol up into your arms. He rested his chin on your shoulder, snuggled comfortably into you, whilst Alexia murmured quietly to her daughter and ensured there was a smile on the six-year-old’s face before she left the room.

Alexia trailed behind you as you walked out, admiring the view of her son in your arms with his eyelids already drooping as she closed the door quietly. He had dressed himself into a pair of Barcelona pyjamas, except his shirt was on back to front, and Alexia smiled at that. His independence was fastly building, especially with the help of his sister who taught him everything he knew, the pair of them forever glued to each other’s side, but it was the tiny details like putting on his shirt wrong that was an adorable representation of his age. He was still so young, and Alexia worked so hard to keep herself in the present rather than dreading the future where they’re grown up, so no matter how odd it seemed that she treasured these miniscule things, she really didn’t care. To her, it didn’t matter if Oriol or Anaís decided to wear their clothes inside out, socks on their hands, and shoes on the wrong feet, they would still be perfect in her eyes.

So with that in mind, she placed another kiss on her son’s cheek and ran a gentle hand through his brown hair, her heart doubling in size at the dozy smile he responded with. Understandably, the day had tired him out more so than anyone else, and near enough the second you lay him down on his bed, he drifted off to sleep. Without disturbing him, you covered him with his blanket and whispered that you loved him, smiling at the quiet noises he let out. For a moment or two, you lingered, gazing as he slept and admiring how peaceful he finally looked. His lips were parted slightly, small breaths sounding through the otherwise silent room. Alexia slipped her hand into yours and squeezed it once; it was then, now that your kids were calm and safe in bed, that you let the weight of the day settle over you.

It was a delayed response of course, but your parental instincts took over earlier, something you were grateful for because you knew how your reaction earlier would impact them depending on if you kept your cool or not. All you could do now was try not to dwell on how awful it had been to see Alexia in that state earlier, and instead concentrate on the feel of her hand in yours and her steady presence unwavering beside you.

“Venga, mi amor.” She hummed, almost silently. You nodded and let her lead the way out of your son’s room, walking you both back to your bedroom where her bath was soon to be ready in the ensuite.

Not so long later, Alexia was unwinding in the hot water with her head resting back against your shoulder. You were sat behind her, not in the bath, but rather on the step-stool that belonged to your children when they decided they wanted to brush their teeth with you and Alexia. Carefully, you had tied her hair into a loose plait, choosing to wash it another day when her head wasn’t quite so tender and throbbing with pain. She seemed calm as your fingers gently traced mindless patterns on each arm of hers that rested on the edge of the tub. The room was pitch black and peaceful, no words being shared and despite the ache of your back in your current position, you couldn’t picture a better way to end such a traumatic day.

Though you were reluctant to do so, there were just a few things you wanted to get off your chest.

“I’m proud of you, Ale. I hope you know that.” Your voice was so low, she wouldn’t have heard you if it wasn’t right beside her ear. She made a noise of confusion, caught off-guard by the sudden sentiment. “You were in so much pain today, it was such an awful experience for you, and you still were the best parent I could ask to have by my side.”

One of her hands moved from its place and took hold of yours, bringing it to her lips to kiss your palm.

“Always.” She replied, mere minutes away from succumbing to the exhaustion that had overtaken her.

“But please, all I ask of you throughout this is that you take this injury so seriously, okay? More serious than any other injury you’ve had. Let me help, don’t be stubborn, and rest.”

“Sí, I will.”

“Promise me that, Ale.” You demanded, though the fear and concern seeped through your tone clearly enough for Alexia to understand the importance of her next words.

“I promise.” The taller woman felt the tension leave your body after she spoke, goosebumps rising on her skin with the relieved sigh you let out. “Gracias por todo.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” You cautiously wrapped your arms around her, crossing them over her chest, and turned to kiss her jaw. “I love you. I was so scared earlier. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

The admission felt even more sacred given the darkness of the room. Even if your voice was hardly intelligible outside the bubble of intimacy that had formed between you both, Alexia heard every word and cherished them deeply.

“Do not worry about that. I’m here, m’not going anywhere. Not without you.” Hearing her say those things provoked your emotions, the heavy combination that had collected throughout the day reaching its peak. Tears quickly formed in your eyes, and Alexia frowned at the sniffles that echoed off the tiled walls of the room. “I love you, mi amor. I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Please never do that to me again.” You cried quietly, leaning back a little and ducking your head down to muffle your cries in her shoulder. Alexia sat up and turned then, not caring about the way it sent her head spinning once more, and reached out for you. It was awkward, but you buried your head in her neck and let her hold you, wrapping your own arms around her body without a care in the world for the water dripping off her skin. “I can’t take it Ale, I can’t.”

The only thing she could do was hope that her embrace was enough to quell your anxieties, because your tears were rubbing off on her and she couldn’t quite find the words to comfort you. What happened earlier had terrified her too, worried that the head injury was serious enough to have impacts on her life and consequently her family, though thankfully that turned out not to be the case. Still, that terror remained, subtly simmering in the background and waiting for its moment to boil over, which was quite obviously this moment here.

It was a day to forget, that much was true. Yet, the silver linings from it were something not to be forgotten anytime soon.

Not that you or Alexia would hope for anything of the sorts or similar to happen again ever, there had been glimpses into your children’s souls and how wonderful they were turning out to be. They showed qualities you only could have ever dreamed of for them to have, and they only proved those things further during Alexia’s recovery. Anaís was adamant that she wouldn’t return to football until Alexia did, both out of solidarity and of understandable fear. Oriol donated his favourite teddy to keep Alexia company through the days she spent in bed, and was constantly asking if she needed a magic hug to make her feel better. That was yet another habit that he had picked up for the pair of you, and whilst the ‘magic’ description was something thought to be made up, Alexia couldn’t deny that there was some truth in the name after receiving one from him.

People had told you, since you were young, that it was important for family to stick together. You hadn’t realised how true that piece of advice was until you had children of your own, but it might be the biggest understatement of the century. Having your children in your arms and the love of your life by your side was all you could ever need to get through just about anything life threw your way.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #woso fic #woso community #woso #woso imagine

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rosyblooom · 1 year ago

Text

chicken shop date | cl16 smau

pairing: charles leclerc x fem youtuber!reader

summary: y/n hosts a popular youtube channel where she invites various celebrities to have a 'chicken shop date'. in this upcoming episode, she welcomes famous formula 1 driver, charles leclerc.

a/n: all my love to amelia, i love her vids🫶🫶 also, pls lmk what u think :)

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading! thank uu!! :)

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯

21st of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: red 4 🏎️🏎️🏎️ ]

[ caption: chicken shop date out on saturday!!! xx ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: aussie aussie aussie 🦘 ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 137,923 others

yourusername i love you australia xx

view all 4,831 comments

yourbfusername third pic 👀👀

yourusername 🤫 username that's suspicious...

username ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????

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charles_leclerc ❤️

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username y/n don't play with me rn. are you dating charles or nah

(liked by author)

username girl it's been 84 years we are tired of the games😭 username 'liked by author' WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

landonorris here for mclaren i'm hoping

yourusername i- sure! username oooh it's the lying for me miss

22nd of March, 2024

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username, and 8,239 others

f1gossipofficial After arriving in Australia last night and posting a picture hugging who fans believe to be Charles Leclerc, Y/N L/N made her F1 debut this morning during the practice sessions.

She and Charles appeared to be very close, only further fuelling the dating rumours that have been circulating the internet for the past month. As of yet, however, neither of the pair has confirmed nor denied the ongoing rumours.

view all 273 comments

username bruh how hard is a "we're dating/we're not dating."😑

username lmao are you ok?? they don't owe us anything

username Y/N as an f1 wag???? OH HOW I USED TO PRAY FOR THESE TIMES

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username did anyone see the way he looks at her though????😍

username RIGHT?? THEYRE SO CUTE OMG😭

23rd of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: this is more like it 😌 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Lucky charm secured ❤️ ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 277,004 others

yourusername chicken shop date with @charles_leclerc OUT NOW!! hope it's an uncomfortable watch xx

view all 4,992 comments

username 10/10 awkwardness, I had to pause multiple times. truly hated it, keep posting more!

yourusername thank u thank u. will do🫡 username loool Y/N ilysm

username Y/N ARE YALL DATING OR NAH??? IM SO CONFUSED

username u and me both😭😭 username idc if it's delusional i'm just gonna pretend they are🥰🥰 username ignorance is bliss babe✨😌

yourbfusername wait you guys are lowkey cute🧐

yourusername *highkey username OMG IS THIS A CONFIRMATION??? WE WONNNN username just fell to my knees in tesco pls don't be joking Y/N😭

charles_leclerc Avez-vous déjà pratiqué votre français ? (have you even been practising your french?)

yourusername oui oui 😌 username she's actually got it lmaoo who would've thought💀

username LMAO Y/N not "what are we?" why are you like this💀💀

username that's so real of her tbh

2:35 ───ㅇ───────── 7:55

The YouTube video begins with a series of clips showing Y/N and Charles laughing, with intermittent shots of Y/N looking directly at the screen. The familiar tune of Y/N's 'chicken shop date' videos begins as stop-motion hearts flutter across the screen, transitioning smoothly to a scene featuring two dolls seated in a miniature chicken shop date setting, seamlessly leading into the main content of the video.

"Charles Leclerc," Y/N warmly greets, resting her elbows on the table. "Welcome to our date."

Charles responds with a smile, settling back in his seat and gesturing around. "Y/N Y/LN, thank you. I'm very happy to be on our first date... here... with all these cameras," he remarks jokingly.

Y/N narrows her eyes slightly, briefly glancing around before refocusing on Charles with a hum. "I'm not sure what you're implying. This location is a solid 10 out of 10," she says, gesturing to their surroundings. "Besides, do you see the chicken?" she adds, plucking a single fry from her meal box and waving it in the air, awaiting his response.

"You mean the fry?" Charles chuckles, pointing. "That's not chicken."

Y/N takes a bite of the fry, pausing to swallow before clearing her throat. "I'm aware," she says with a dramatic tilt of her head and a tight-lipped smile. "I just grabbed it because I fancied a fry."

"But anyway," she continues, circling back to the initial question, "do... you... see... the... chicken?" Sensing his hesitation, she places her hands firmly on the table. "Look at me. It's a simple yes or no, Charles."

"Well, actually, it's yes or yes," she corrects herself with two affirmative nods, before redirecting her attention back to him.

Charles responds with a smile, though his expression betrays his confusion, evident in the different angles of his raised eyebrows. "Yes, I see it, Y/N."

"And do you taste it?" Y/N asks slowly.

"I haven't yet..."

"So, what are you waiting for?" she claps her hands together, motioning towards the untouched box of food in front of him. "Don't be shy now."

Charles chuckles as he sits up in his chair and leans forward, rummaging through the food before pulling out a chicken nugget. As he dips the piece in some ketchup, his eyes meet Y/N's once more, her wide-eyed nod urging him on.

"Go on."

"Okay, okay," he says, taking a bite. "Mmm," he nods, almost as if someone were holding a gun to his head, compelling him to do so.

"Oh," Y/N purses her lips and shakes her head, "I don't like it when people make noises while eating."

"Uh," Charles swallows and chuckles, "sorry?"

Y/N shrugs. "It's okay, I forgive you."

"Anyway," she inhales deeply, "what do you think? That's some good chicken, right?"

"Yeah, actually, it is really good," Charles nods as he speaks.

Suddenly, the video cuts to a staff member in chicken shop attire standing behind the counter, wearing a smile while staring at the camera, unmoving.

Then, the video returns to Charles and Y/N.

As Charles takes another bite of his chicken nugget, Y/N casually asks, "Do you think our children will like chicken?"

Coughing sounds interrupt as Charles drops his chicken into the box, knocking his fist against his chest until the sound clears. His voice croaks as he speaks, his brows furrowing, "Our children? We're talking about children already?"

Y/N's composure cracks slightly as she chuckles, clearly amused by his reaction, and observes him reaching for a glass of water, taking large gulps. However, she quickly regains control, shrugging nonchalantly before continuing, "Well, yeah. I don't know about you, but I date for marriage—I want a little family of my own someday. Don't you?"

Charles rubs his eyebrows and places the glass back on the table. "Yes, I do want to have a family one day. But this feels like it's moving very fast, don't you think?"

Y/N shakes her head. "Not at all. To be honest, I want one boy and one girl. What about you?"

At Y/N's continued forwardness, Charles releases a laugh, visibly bewildered, before scratching at his beard in deep thought. Propping up his elbows on the table, he finally responds, "I think I want a boy."

"—And a girl," Y/N interjects, smiling expectantly.

Charles blurts out a laugh, clearly taken aback, before nodding. "Yeah, a girl too. I don't really mind."

"Great, so we're on the same page then."

The video cuts off again, this time to the entrance of the chicken shop, slowly panning into the empty and bright interior with multiple tables and chairs. The camera stops on the large menu, featuring pictures of chicken and fries, lingering for a few moments before cutting back to Charles and Y/N.

However, this time Y/N is holding a piece of paper in front of her.

"So, I hear you're French?" Y/N glances up at Charles, noticing the grimace on his face. Quickly realising her mistake, she corrects herself, "Oh, hold on, no wait, don't kill me please. You speak French, but you're from Monaco—you don't claim France at all."

Charles laughs and nods in agreement. "Correct. I am Monegasque. Those are separate countries, yes."

Y/N purses her lips, her eyes flickering from side to side. "I know, I literally just said that." Clicking her tongue, she exhales a long breath and continues, "Anyway, what a coincidence. I'm actually trying to learn French."

Something flashes in Charles' eyes as he suddenly leans forward in his chair, his expression filled with keen interest. "Oh wow, tu l'es ? Comment vas-tu ?" (translation: "Oh wow, you are? How are you?")

Y/N freezes, her mouth parted slightly in a half-smile. For a moment, she just stares, clearly startled, before scratching the back of her neck and humming deep in thought. "Oh, okay, straight into the deep end, huh?" she chuckles and then blurts out, "Oui, oui?"

Charles tosses his head back, laughing, while Y/N folds her hands together, waiting expressionless for his laughter to subside. When he finally regains his composure, his eyes back on Y/N, she says, "Great, thanks."

"I'm sorry," Charles waves his hand in the air, "I just thought you'd know the basics already. My mistake."

Y/N narrows her gaze at him for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "Well, that's what I've got you here for." Clearing her throat, she tilts her gaze down at the paper and asks, "Let's start easy, shall we? I'm going to give you a few sentences in French, and you translate them back to me in English."

Charles furrows his brows. "Wouldn't it make more sense the other way around?"

"What can I say, I'm special," she shrugs, "I actually learn better this way."

"Ah, of course you are."

"Alright. Je t'aime."

"I love you," says Charles.

Y/N places her hand across her chest. "Aw, Charles. Dropping the L-bomb already, are we?"

Charles drags his teeth across his lower lip while shaking his head. "Next one, please."

“Veux-tu m'épouser?" (translation: "Will you marry me?")

Charles tilts his head sideways, an amused expression spreading across his face. “Seriously?”

Y/N clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “No, that doesn’t quite sound right. I think you might need to brush up on your French, Charles, because I’m pretty sure ‘Veux-tu m'épouser’ does not mean ‘seriously.’”

Exhaling a long breath, she rotates in her seat and straightens up. “Don’t worry though, I’ll give you another chance.”

Charles rolls his eyes playfully before releasing a whistle. Rubbing his hands together, he begins, “Will you marry me. That’s what it mea—”

“Charles!” Y/N's jaw drops as she interrupts him. “Well, I’m a hot commodity, you know? But I want to know, how would our marriage work? I mean, how long are you planning on racing, anyway?”

Charles smiles, slumping into his seat as he reaches for a fry and tosses it into his mouth. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I love racing and I want to be a world champion, so we’ll just have to see how long that takes.”

“You want to be a world champion, yet you extended your contract with Ferrari?” Y/N's brows furrow inquisitively. “That’s an interesting choice.”

A couple of chuckles escape Charles as he runs his hand up and down his neck, his gaze fixed on the half-empty box of food before him. After a moment's pause, he replies with a casual shrug, “They're like family to me. And honestly, when I see myself winning, it’s always with the Ferrari team by my side.”

“Fair enough,” Y/N exhales, her eyes widening as she claps her hands together. “I suppose I'll have to stock up on red outfits.”

Noticing Charles’ puzzled expression, Y/N theatrically rolls her eyes before explaining, “For our next date, silly. I’ll be your lucky charm, and then you can finally start winning and have a real shot at the World Championship.”

“Wow, how nice of you, Y/N,” Charles responds with a lazy smile. “Merci.”

“Oooh,” Y/N points at him, nodding in satisfaction, “I know that one. You’re welcome…”

“…Boyfriend?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him. “What—what are we?”

He ponders for a moment, swaying slightly from side to side, then relents, “Okay, sure… girlfriend.”

The video cuts to the outro, displaying various polaroids of Y/N flashing by, accompanied by a text reading, ‘If you enjoyed the video, please don’t forget to like and subscribe for more! xx’.

24th of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: early day😴😴 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 4,723 others

f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc have been spotted entering the Paddock together. Numerous sources have also confirmed seeing them exchange a few kisses.

As always, wishing the drivers all the best for today's race!

view all 269 comments

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liked by yourusername, carlossaiz55, username and 324,076 others

f1 Carlando back on the podium together! Congrats to Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc on their wins! Huge accomplishments!

#F1 #Formula1 #AusGP

view all 248 comments

username CARLANDO LETS GOOOOOO

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yourusername

liked by yourbfusername, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 263,014 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername as the french say 'soo la voo' or whatever xxx

view all 5902 comments

charles_leclerc close enough🤣

yourusername je t'aime ❤️ username OMGG??????? AHHH KICKING MY FEET🥰 username wow we've literally gone full circle🤧 username he fell first she fell harder tease🥹

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7:35 ───────────ㅇ─ 7:55

hope u enjoyed! thoughts are appreciated! <3

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prokopetz · 7 months ago

Note

Hello! You talk a lot about ttrpg mechanics, and I was wondering if you could help me out with something.

Very often, the only time I have available for playing is on Saturday, but I'm jewish so I can't write or use electronics during the session. Are there any rpgs that don't require any writing? And if not, what do you think would be a good way to modify a preexisting one?

I'm assuming you're looking for games where nobody involved needs to do any writing things down, so as not to run afoul of the whole "no asking other people to perform restricted activities for one's own benefit" thing, which leaves you with two basic options:

Very simple games with little or no persistent game-state information, such that it's feasible to keep it all in your head. This covers stuff like Lasers & Feelings (no mechanical game-state whatsoever, though you will need to do character creation ahead of time) or Honey Heist (each player has one number to keep track of, which can be handled without writing by sliding a token around on printed track prepared ahead of time, if you help remembering).

Games where the complexities of the persistent game-state are entirely represented using props and tokens. On the simpler end, you've got stuff like Dread, a survival-horror game where conflicts are resolved by making pulls from a Jenga tower, and there are no hit points or other resources beyond the tower itself – either the tower is up and your character is alive, or the tower is down and your character is dead. (The same caveats about character creation in advance that apply to Lasers & Feelings, above, apply here.) On the more complex side, you've got RPG/board game hybrids like Zoetrope or What We Possess, where each game comes in a box with a giant stack of cards and tokens and playing-boards and such, and the game-state is represented by shoving components around.

It's a pretty broad question, so if you have a specific genre or milieu in mind, I can try to chase down something suitable which fits that brief.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #tabletop rpg recommendations #death mention

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maximumzombiecreator · 10 months ago

Text

I've seen a lot of posts recently where people say they can't find players to play non-5e TTRPGs with. As someone who moves countries every few years, I've had to rebuild my roster of local TTRPG players from scratch a number of times. Here's how I do it.

Caveats first: while I've done this in small cities, I have always done it in cities. If you're in, like, a rural environment, you might just not have enough interested people around. You can always do it online in that case. I'm not really going to cover finding players online, except to say you should probably look for communities for the specific system you want to play. Most of them are enthusiastically looking for new participants. Especially game masters.

Okay, first things first, you gotta find people. I generally find I get better results if the search is location first. That is, rather than using city-wide or regional Looking For Group type internet groups, I look for physical locations that host gaming groups. Local game stores, public libraries, gaming cafes/bars, etc.

Being location first helps avoid some common bad behaviours. Online LFG groups often have a few shitty people hanging around who can't find long term groups because they're shitty. They'll jump at the opportunity to join new groups where people don't know them, because everyone else knows better than to game with them. But location-based groups are better at filtering this. Someone who harasses people at an LGS can be banned from the store, but decentralized online groups struggle to handle these situations in my personal experience.

Being location first also solves the next problem, which is giving you a location to play. Eventually, when I have a long term group, I'll host games in my home. But there needs to be a level of trust before that feels safe, and we're looking for randoms, so for now we need a public gaming venue. If, for whatever reason, there aren't dedicated gaming spaces where you can do this, I've had the most success gaming in cafes or restaurants during off peak hours. I've run a bunch of games in restaurants from, like, 2pm-5pm on a Saturday, and as long as you're buying drinks and some snacks or something, and being polite and non-disruptive, it's typically not too hard to get permission.

Now, if that local group has enough interest in a non-5e system that I'm interested in running, I'll happily do that, and it's pretty free from there. Most people who are willing to play one other system will gladly try others if they find they like playing with you. But even in big cities, I feel it's pretty often the case that postings for local games of other systems don't wind up actually finding successful groups.

So, here is the bit where, unfortunately, finding people to play non-5e games with involves playing some 5e. Community groups are always looking for more GMs to run games, so I will set out to run a number of short 5e adventures, each with different groups. These are typically oneshots that I have the option of extending for another 1 or 2 sessions.

I always run adventures that I've written myself for these, because I want my particular GMing style to really come through. Looking for players is a two way street. I'm looking for people I like GMing for, but I'm also looking to make sure they know what they're getting. Especially if I'm going to ask them to play a system they've never tried, they should know that there's going to be something they enjoy. So, these short adventures are full of the types of silly but sincere NPCs I tend to run, the open-ended scenarios I prefer, the tropes I favour, etc. If someone isn't going to enjoy playing with me, I want them to know it from this adventure.

I structure the adventures to give me a lot of flexibility in terms of how long they run. They're nearly always mysteries, but with some active component to the mystery, so that if things drag or dawdle I can have the villain show up and force a final confrontation. They're also structured to have a natural "next thing." You find and defeat the villain, but there's an implied next villain you'll be going after. That way, if the group is working well and I want to continue, it's easy to present the option to the group. But if I'm not interested in continuing with the group, the next thing can just serve as an "and the adventures continue" implied epilogue, and the game still feels complete.

I don't like players just bringing their own character sheet to the table. Someone who brings a disruptive character can ruin a session without me getting much useful information out of it, other than that I don't want to play with that person. And if it ruins the experience for the other players, I'm often out the opportunity to game with those people, through neither of our faults. I've experimented with both asking players to submit their characters in advance or making them choose between a collection of premade characters. The former is a good check for whether people will put in a basic amount of effort and follow instructions, but it can dissuade people who are just looking to dip their toes into playing for the first time. The latter can turn off players who are into crunchy games and are excited about character building. As a result, I'll usually choose the approach based on what non-5e system I'm currently most excited about running. Do I want to get together a group for a rules-light game? Premade characters it is. Looking to run some PF2e? Please submit your character sheet in advance. Some locations also do more drop-in based games, in which case it's premades all day.

As I'm running the game, I'm observing the players. There's a simple vibe check, obviously. Do I like playing with this person? But I'm also looking at how they play. What are they here for, what's exciting them? Are they struggling with finding optimal turns in combat, or do they like mastering a system? Are they curious about the world, or do they glaze over when the spotlight isn't on them? Do they light up in dialogue scenes? Do they want to try crazy things outside of their on-sheet abilities? Remember, later, I'm going to try to persuade this person to try to play a game they've never played before. I need to know what specifically is going to excite them.

I have (always with permission) recorded sessions before to go over in making these choices, but honestly even just a few small reminder notes will help me unravel things later. If a session goes well, I'll ask at the end for people to give me their contact information if they'd be interested in playing again. Non-committal, at their comfort, and it doesn't single out people that I don't want to play with. I can always just not call them. Usually I find I'm interested in playing again with a little more than half of the players I meet this way. In my experience, it's fairly rare for a player to say they're not interested in playing again, TTRPGs rule and there's a DM shortage.

What I usually do is keep running these until I have enough people in mind to run something else, even if it isn't the system I'm most excited about. Probably it would be better to spend more time in this starter phase building up more connections, but after running like 4-5 5e adventures, I'm usually more than ready to run anything else, and if I have to shelve my Lancer ideas because I've mostly found crunch-averse players, I'm usually fine with that.

So, next comes the invites. Now, most players I meet this way will eventually be open to playing most games, but listen: you can put people well out of their comfort zone for their third TTRPG, but you gotta be real careful with their second. Most of the time, the game I'm inviting people to will be their first real exposure to a non-5e TTRPG. If they don't like it, they will run back to the safety of 5e and you will never get them out of it again. So I am very careful in picking the right system for the players I am inviting.

Whatever the new system I want to run is, I will set up a pilot session for it. I am very clear to players that I will teach them the system at the session, they do not need to know it in advance. Eventually, when I have a reliable group of TTRPG people to play with, I'll expect them to be able to pick up systems without a ton of help, but for players that are only used to the complexity of 5e, the idea of learning a new system is daunting. I rehearse the teaching of the game session. It's the only thing for TTRPGs I ever rehearse, but I want to know down pat how I'm going to quickly teach a new system and make it feel approachable and non-threatening. I'm also very clear that this will be a single session, with the possibility of turning into a campaign if we like it. All of this is structured to feel very safe. No initial learning required, no long term commitment, with a GM you already know you like.

But even as safe as that is, you still have to pitch the system. Why should the player be excited about playing this new game? Don't go all TTRPG nerd on them and explain all the details of the system, or use a bunch of jargon. Give them one or two things to be excited about with short, detailed anecdotes to back them up.

"We're going to be playing Blades in the Dark. It's a game where you play a gang of criminals in a haunted, steampunk dystopia. Every session you'll do heists, but instead of meticulously planning them, you start right in the action, and when you need to have planned for something, you can do a flashback scene to explain your preparation. One group I ran this for got busted by guards during an early heist, but used a flashback to create a scene where they had gotten a buddy of theirs a job as one of the guards, and he helped them out of the situation. And for some reason they fell in love with this bumbling goof I improvised to be the buddy, and then on a bunch of future jobs they kept using flashbacks to get him jobs wherever they were robbing. So this one idiot was just a de-facto crew member who worked a dozen different inside jobs despite being about as sharp as an eraser. And eventually they fucked up and got him killed, but they brought him back as a ghost, because you can do that in Blades in the Dark."

I find using a specific example of play really helps get peoples' imaginations going, which is what is going to help them say yes. And that example is tailored to what I know that player vibes with, what it is I think that makes them a good fit for this game.

The last detail about the invites is that I'm telling them, not asking them. It is not, "Hey, are you interested in playing this new game?" It's "I'm going to be running this new game. If you're interested in playing, please let me know what times work for you." If you're asking, you're going to get some "well but can it be 5e?" If you're telling, then they can choose to learn a new game in order to keep playing TTRPGs with a GM they know they like, or they can choose not to play at all.

Once you get enough yesses for a game, you run it, and then from there you're on your own. I think those are basically just friends you have at that point, and I'm not gonna tell you how to have friends.

Hopefully at least one person finds all that useful!

#ttrpg #tabletop gaming #tabletop roleplaying #anti 5e action

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