#also sorry I’m not very active or replying back

[bird-in-the-space]

Echoes of the Unknown

You reunite with the Autobots and decide to become an official member of their team.

Warnings: none, except Ratchet being the angry worried grandpa.

Chapter 20 (Final)

-------------------------------------------

After calling in the Autobots and asking for a ground bridge, you drove through the vortex and arrived at the welcoming sight of the bots and the kids. You stopped to let Emily out before transforming and removing the face plate. The kids ran down the steps to greet her. “Emily!” Miko and Raf hugged her, making her smile and hug them back. 

“Hey! Kids! I wasn’t gone for that long, was I?” Emily asked. 

“It’s really good to see you okay. We were dead worried about you,” Jack said. “The cons didn’t hurt you did they?” he asked. 

“Nah. I was hiding most of the time. I only got a couple of bruises from falling from high places but nothing serious,” Emily assured. 

Ratchet then stepped toward you and grabbed your shoulders. “What were you thinking?! Following the cons to their ship on your own! You are lucky to have come back at all!” he shook you, startling you. 

“Do you have any idea what they would have done to you if you got caught?!” he yelled at your face. 

You recovered from the sudden shaking and looked at him. “I’m sorry, Ratchet. I wasn’t really thinking when I followed the cons, but I don’t regret doing it. I couldn't just stand there and let the cons take her, especially when it was Airachnid who took her. It’s a good thing I did because she intended to do something horrible to Emily,” you explained calmly. 

“Yeah, she wanted to dissect me and put me in a tube,” Emily backed you. 

“So… considering that. It was a good thing that I followed them. She wouldn’t most likely be here if I didn’t,” you added. 

Optimus placed his hand on Ratchet’s shoulder. “Seeing them both return safely. I believe this is the best outcome we could have hoped for. (Name) had a reasonable cause to follow the Decepticons and now she had managed to return Emily and herself with no severe harm done to them,” he said. 

Ratchet relaxed under his words. “Very well. It’s good to see you both back,” Ratchet patted your shoulder. “But do not think you will be leaving the base anytime soon,” he said with a serious tone before releasing your shoulders from his death-like grip. 

You smiled. “Wasn’t planning on it,” you said as he returned to the main computer. 

“If I can ask, how did you escape the Nemesis?” Arcee asked. 

“It…. “ You tried to think how to explain it. “It was in the heat of a moment. When Em was captured again, I caused a diversion with the drills, shocked their medic unconscious with the shock rod thing, and then hid Emily in my chest, and then I used their ground bridge console to bridge us to a random location,” you explained. 

“Oh, don’t forget how you used the Holly to make them follow the hologram you into a different location before trapping them there and then using the ground bridge yourself,” Emily added. 

“Yeah… the Vehicons were a bit close so I used the first ground bridge to make them follow my hologram before closing the bridge and then using a different bridge to bridge myself out of there,” you explained. “I managed to blend in with the walls, so they didn’t notice the real me,” you added. 

“You got the Holly to work more accurately?” Raf asked. 

“Yeah. The ship was full of vehicons with a similar face. It was an opportunity I took,” you replied. 

“Show me,” he said. 

You activated the Holly. The device then created a perfect replicate of you standing next to you. You waved your hand and it followed your motion. 

“Woah!” the kids said in marvel before you turned off the Holly, making the hologram disappear. 

“That’s so cool. You were like twins,” Miko remarked. 

“Yeah. However, I do not think the cons will fall for that the second time if we ever meet again,” you crossed your arms. “They might also be aware of my existence now,” you added. 

“Taken the circumstances it might have been inevitable. However, you should be safe as long as you decide to stay in the base,” Optimus said. 

“I think I will be staying at the base for now. That was way too much excitement for my taste,” you stated. 

“Well, it was not a useless trip. While I was hiding in the vents, I decided to take the chance to do some recon and managed to capture a lot of pictures of Nemesis” Emily said as she took out the memory card from her camera. She then handed the card to Raf who then inserted it into the slot in his computer. His computer then connected to the main monitor, showing pictures of different parts of the Decepticon warship. “From those pictures, we could construct a map of the Nemesis, so we know where to go in case we have to make another visit for some other purpose,” she explained. 

Then came the picture with you and the datapad you asked her to take. 

“Oh, there was this picture (Name) asked to take. The content of that datapad seemed important so I took a few,” Emily explained. 

“Those are locations of energon mines,” Ratchet explained as he zoomed in. “A few of those are active while some of them are unconfirmed energon veins,” he added.

“Seems like you were on the right track (Name),” Emily smiled toward you. 

“Well, It seemed important because I read ‘mine’ and ‘energon.’” you explained. 

“This could actually work out in our favor taking our depleting energon supply,” Ratchet said with genuine surprise. 

Bulkhead laughed. “Seems like (Name) hit a jackpot for us!” he said, giving you a rough pat on the back. You smiled, slightly flustered. 

You then remembered what Steve said about dark energon and the prophecy that was supposedly occurring soon. 

“That’s not all. “ You started. “When I blend in among the vehicons. I came across something that mentioned dark energon, and when I asked about it, they told me about this prophecy that said something about Unicron and his awakening. Do you know something about that Optimus?” you asked. 

Optimus was quiet at first, thinking what you said. 

“Like who is Unicron? I recall hearing that name before,” you asked. 

“Unicron is the opposite deity compared to Primus. He is the harbinger of chaos and destruction while Primus is the giver of life. He was defeated by the thirteen original primes and cast out from Cybertron,” Optimus explained. 

“So, he’s like… your version of a satan?” you asked. 

“Correct. And the prophecy you mention tells about the planetary alignment though how it involves Unicron and his awakening I do not know,” Optimus said. 

“Should we be concerned about that?” you asked. 

“Perhaps in time, the prophecy will become clearer. For now, let us rejoice in your and Emily’s safe return,” he said. 

You nodded. 

Bumblebee beeped, saying something you didn’t understand. 

“Bee’s right. You have a lot of guts and brought back more to us than yourself and Emily,” Bulkhead said. 

“You know you have what it takes to be an Autobot,” Arcee added. 

“About that… “ you said and they looked at you. “I thought about it and… I would like to join you guys officially,” you said. 

“Really?” Bulkhead asked. 

“Yeah. I mean the Decepticons are an active threat and Earth is my home. I can’t stand idly by if they threaten the people I care about. So, I would like to contribute even just a little. I’m also not good at doing nothing when there’s something I can do,” You explained. “So… would it be alright for you guys if I became a member of your team?” you asked. 

“Absolutely!” Bulkhead slapped your shoulder enthusiastically. 

Bee whirled something but it sounded approving. 

“Fine by me. We could use an extra hand,” Arcee said with a rare smile. 

You then looked toward Optimus. “Is this truly what you wish?” he asked. 

“Yes, Optimus,” you nodded. 

“Then we would be honored to have you (Name),” he smiled. 

“Awesome!” Miko yelled. “But now, we need to do you a complete makeover. Time to give up the vehicon look,” she said. 

You glanced at Emily and you two shrugged with a smile. 

With a few tips from the bots, you left the base with Emily and Miko to scan yourself a new vehicle mode. It took a while but you found a car model you preferred and scanned yourself a new paint job in colors you liked. There were still some similarities you shared with the vehicons, but now you were designed in your own image. With the Autobot symbol on your chest, you glanced at Emily and Miko who gave you thumbs up for your new look. You then transformed, allowing them to step in, and drove back to base, officially starting your new life as an Autobot. 

[lunarsolar1]

Sorry for not being super active, I haven’t been doing well health wise so I might take a small break! I’m going to try to come back and repost some stuff but, no promises :( I feel horrible

I’m also going to be slow in replying, sorry if I don’t message back asap!!!!

In case anyone’s curious why I haven’t reposted a lot or haven’t made dbda posts! I’ll come back when I’m feeling better ❤️

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, interruptions 

lando norris x wife!mom!reader

series masterlist

summary - parents with a high sex drive plus a toddler who doesn’t like to be alone equals lando and y/n facing a funny yet frustrating dilemma. set before pregnancy with baby girl norris. 

masterlist

-

monaco was always peaceful and beautiful in the morning, something you and lando cherished by leaving the drapes slightly open in your bedroom the night before. it was the best way to wake up naturally, the morning monaco sun casting a blanket of light onto your tired bodies. as you slowly wake, the light kissing you gently, your body begins its stretch as your back bends into your sleepy husband behind you. his grip around your waist gives you a squeeze, signaling that he had woken up as well. the feeling of his lips dragging along your neck only confirms your suspicions, leading you to smile and roll over in order to face him. 

“g’morning, love,” he whispers once his tired eyes finally meet yours, crinkling at the corners due to his sleepy smile. his hand still caresses your waist, moving it up underneath your, his, t-shirt gently and back down to the waistband of your panties in repetition. 

“morning, baby,” you reply, voice still hoarse from the eight hours of no use, “did your jet lag finally wear off?”

“yes,” he sighs, pulling you into him tighter with the arm that was wrapped around your shoulders, “i always sleep well with you next to me,” he whispers, leaning in to catch your lips in a calm kiss, “wish you came to the race,”

“i know, me too,” you hum, connecting your lips again, “i just had too much work to catch up on,”

“you could’ve done it at the hotel,” he nudges your nose with his, lips colliding a little deeper this time as your hands are brought up to his soft curls. 

“not with a toddler also attached to me,” you giggle, now adjusting for your husband to lay between your legs, hovering over you. 

“baby, let’s not mention the munchkin while we’re having a moment,” lando giggles, hand pulling your shirt up to expose you even more. he leans in again, allowing your laugh to give his tongue access even further to your mouth. you felt his length through the thin boxers he had on poking your thigh, causing you to reach your hand down, slipping it into the fabric softly, holding and pumping him slowly. 

lando lets out a groan as he feels your hand begin to move, his own coming up to your breast, holding and squeezing as he continues his gentle exploration of your mouth, “feels so good, love,” he chokes out, now moving his lips to your neck, nibbling on the exact spot he knows elicits your arousal furthest. 

“mhm,” you can only let out a hum as you look into his eyes, “inside me, lan,” you whisper, knowing that soon your little one would be up and you didn’t have much time to waste with foreplay. 

“we’ve got time, baby,” lando whispers to you, his hand now moving to slide your panties to the side, fingers soaking up your wetness and spreading it around your heat. 

“c’mon lan,” you plead softly, knowing that would grab his attention, “please,” you breathe out, causing your husband to cuss under his breath at your neediness and pull down his boxers further. 

“ready, love?” his eyes scan your features, a smile gently spreading across his face at your eager nodding in response to his question. just as his tip hits your entrance, there is a very noticeable sound coming quickly towards your door. 

“MOMMA! DADA!” finn squeals from outside your bedroom door. 

“shit,” lando curses quietly, pulling up his boxers and adjusting your shirt and panties for you. he gives you a soft ‘i’m sorry’ look as you replicate it on your own face. he gets up and rushes to the bathroom, letting his - problem - subside as you get up to throw on shorts and open your door. 

“good morning, baby,” you giggle towards the little hyper-active two-year old bouncing around at your feet, “how’d you sleep?” you swiftly grab him to sit on your hip, heading back to the bed as he babbles a bit about his wild dream, you trying your best to intently listen. just as he finishes up his story, lando walks out of the bathroom - now with a pair of sweatpants on - and collapses onto the bed beside you and finn. 

“hi buddy,” lando welcomes his son into his arms as finn begins his crawl onto his father’s stomach.

“hi dada,” your son giggles up at his father from his perch on lando, “how you?” he squeaks out. 

“how am i?” your husband chuckles, making eye contact with you, “frustrated,” he hints lightly, both of you then laughing at the perplexed face of your son, his vocabulary not strong enough for that word or implications yet.  

-

seven in the evening. a wonderful time. finn’s bedtime. lando had been washing up after dinner as you tucked in your son for the night. walking out of his room and into the kitchen, you immediately wrap your arms around your husband’s middle as he finishes up washing the last dish. leaning your head against his back, you feel his damp hand rub against your own as he turns around in your hold to face you. 

“hi,” he whispers, leaning down to capture your lips in his. 

“hi,” you sigh, forehead’s resting against each other, soaking in some alone time that was missed this morning. you tilt your head up again to kiss him, feeling his tongue swipe against your bottom lip, physically asking for access. you grant it with ease, opening your mouth as lando begins backing you up until your hips come in contact with the counter. one hand on the back of your neck as his other squeezes your hip, you moan lightly at the feeling of his large hands holding your body firmly. his hands will always be the death of you - and he knows it. 

lando smirks into your mouth at the sound, pride bubbling in his stomach knowing how he makes you feel. spreading your legs slightly, your husband takes that as an invitation to push his thigh in between them, allowing you to grind on it for some sort of relief. the kiss has gained ultimate traction, traded breaths and gasps, moans and roaming hands on each other’s bodies, both of you attempting to start what you couldn’t finish in the morning. 

“momma?” finn’s quiet question breaks you out of the trance, leading you to whip your head around to where his tired body was in the doorway. your big baby, your husband, drops his forehead down to your shoulder, his hands squeezing your hips hard to imply his frustration. you bring a hand up to run through his curls, your other reaching to stroke his back in order to imply your own recognition of how you feel as well as soothe him. 

“what, baby?” you sigh out, meeting his little eyes. 

“i can’t sweep,” he breathes, puppy dog eyes in full effect as they stare up at you. 

“you can’t sleep? do you want another bedtime story?” you suggest to him, lando whispering a quiet ‘i hope the fuck not’ in your ear, causing you to stifle a laugh. 

“sweep with you and dada?” finn asks, his cuteness leading you to a larger dilemma. 

“uhm,” you ponder quietly, turning your head a bit to try and meet your husband’s eyes. he lets out a slow groan and lifts his head to look at his own son. 

“fine, buddy,” he directs to finn, “but just tonight,”

“yay!” finn cheers, clapping his hands and reaching out for his father. lando lifts him onto his hip, glances at you with a wink, and takes your son to the bedroom. 

-

it had been two days since then, and neither you nor lando had the release you’d hoped for. finn had been extra needy the past few days, not wanting to leave either of your sides. by the time you would climb into bed at night, you were both beyond tired from the day that there wouldn’t be enough energy. and in the morning, right as you’d wake up, there were tiny footsteps stomping right outside your door. 

“baby,” lando nudges you, “look,” you were having a movie night, the evening before your little family would all depart to the next race. you and your husband were cuddled next to each other on the couch, his arm draped behind your head, your head laying on his shoulder. your son, the object of lando’s attention, was asleep across his lap, “he’s asleep,”

“ya wanna take him to his room?” you gently ask your husband, hoping the little boy would stay asleep throughout the night for once.

“yes,” he nods, “you meet me in our room,” he lifts finn into his arms softly, shoots you a wink and heads off. you quickly tidy the living room, an ignited pep in your step due to lando’s implications, and make your way into the bedroom. you hear your husband’s heavy footsteps following you into the bedroom and he hastily shuts the door, lips already making their way to yours. 

“mmph,” you let out a muffled hum at the contact, hands coming up to wrap around his neck. his hands lower down to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he pushes you against the end of the bed. moving his hands to take your sweatshirt off, you quickly use your own to help take his off as well. 

you spin the both of you around and give lando a push to sit on the edge of the bed. you slide your shorts down as he watches you with bated breath, eyes raking over your body, only covered in skimpy underwear. his breath is heavy, hands reaching out and itching to have you on top of him. you follow his needs, your knees landing on either side of his thighs, connecting your lips yet again.

“so fucking sexy, y/n,” he whispers out as you begin to grind down on him, attempting to get some sort of relief from the past three days of built up tension. he gives your ass a light tap as you continue to make out, before he flips the both of you over, your back landing on the bed. he stands over your body at the foot of the bed, lip coming in between his teeth as he stares down at you. 

“how’d i get so lucky?” he rhetorically asks, shaking his head while beginning to slide his pants down, “you look absolutely delectable, love,”

“are you going to do something about that, lan?” you ask him, eyes widening and your lip coming out in an innocent pout, the one he loves to kiss right off. 

“oh baby, you have no idea-”

“DADDY!” finn’s yell from his bedroom shakes the both of you out of your moment. 

lando groans, knowing finn just needed attention and not anything serious, leading him to yell over his shoulder, “GO BACK TO BED FINN!” you giggle at his action, lando looking back at you with a smirk as well. 

“NO!” finn yells back from his room. 

“fucking hell,” your husband sighs, pulling his sweatpants back on. he drops a kiss to your lips and gives your hip a squeeze, “you stay right there, i’ll be quick,”

“but not quick later, right?” you joke with a giggle. 

“never, baby,” he smiles, “i like to take my time with you,” he leans over to kiss you again, you now taking the dominance and pushing your tongue into his mouth. he moans at your actions and begins to climb back on the bed until-

“DADA!” lando’s head drops and you smile and pat his cheek lightly. 

“hurry back, i’ll be waiting for you,” you giggle at his slow movements towards the door. 

“you better not fall asleep,” he points at you, “i’ll be as fast as i can,” you nod at him, watching him disappear out the door and into your son’s room. you move to throw back on your shorts and hoodie, just in case finn had to come back in the room or call for you as well. just as you’d suspected, five minutes later lando comes marching into the room, a quiet little boy on his hip. 

“what are you doing in here?” you ask with a laugh as your husband gently tosses finn onto the bed towards you. he’s in a fit of giggles as his dad moves onto the bed and begins poking his stomach.

“little mate can’t sleep in his own room,” he sighs, continuing to tickle finn. 

“i miss you,” finn slips out through his laughs.

“you miss us?” lando looks down at him, “you’ve only seen us for the past four days, buddy,” your little family spends the rest of the night laughing and sleeping, but you and lando both share a look to convey that this little problem needs to be fixed. and soon.

-

race weekend arrives and your young family has traveled to spain for the spanish grand prix. walking into the paddock after another night of no sex and a two year old in between you two, lando was holding finn’s hand in his left and your hand in his right. 

“i’ve never been more excited for my parents to be at a race,” he whispers, “finn hasn’t seen them in a while,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“already finding a way to dump our son on someone else, are you dear husband?” you laugh as he unlocks your fingers and moves his arm to be around your shoulders.

“yes, ‘m not proud but i need ya baby,” he whispers again, this time planting a kiss to your neck after speaking. 

“well that’s too bad, because your dad called earlier saying they would get here late,” you give him a sympathetic smile, “you’ll already be in the car when they arrive,”

“then he’s sleeping at their hotel tonight,” he declares with a laugh, “he needs some grandpa and grandma bonding time,”

“alright,” you agree with a giggle. just as you walk up to the mclaren garage, you see oscar and lily standing right outside and greet them with a smile, “hi, osc, lily,” you nod at oscar and bring her into a hug that she gratefully accepts. finn has run into oscar’s arms, already babbling about his new mclaren hat that lando had bought him. he was still wearing his ferrari shirt, but the hat was better than nothing as your husband had said to you earlier. 

“he’s gotten so big since last time,” lily giggles to you and lando, “i’ve missed him,”

“do you want to hang with him for a bit?” lando offers quickly, “i’m sure he’d love that,”

“oh yes!” lily laughs, oscar picking up the little boy and nodding his head as well to lando, letting out his agreement to hanging with finn for a while. 

“aw great!” lando claps, “finn you wanna hang with uncle oscar and aunt lily for a while?”

“uncle oscah! aunt lily!” he claps in oscar’s arms. the couple swoons at the little boy as lando’s hand comes down to swipe your bum.

“go to my driver’s room, go, go,” lando hurries you into the garage, “before they change their mind, go,” he continues to push. 

“okay,” you laugh, “i’m going, i’m going,” as you made it to his driver’s room, you made up for plenty of lost time.

and later when finn stayed with his nan and papa at their hotel - you and your husband celebrated the second place podium finish he had as if you were child-free once again.

-

[snghnlvr]

don’t test me. / park sunghoon

౨ৎ ## i've never felt this before, i can't hide it, my head is spinning, crazy park sunghoon x fem reader!

synopsis: your test on your best friend decided to have your friendship to the next level.

includes: 3.4k words | childhood friends to lovers | inspo was actually the song brought the heat back because they’re all delusional, like look at the lyrics — actually | lyrics mentioned x2 !! | sunghoon is a hopeless romantic | both of them are bold with their actions el oh el.. | oh taesan BND mention ^3^ | ever after high mentioned !!

extra: actually am back from the dead i’m very sorry LOL | the whole romance: untold album gave me me inspiration to write this.. | hot girl activities of being an enhypen stan <3 | ALSO am redoing my tag list since i’m back after a hot minute, lmk if u wanna be apart of it <3 | love u chiptole pls sponsor me <3

likes, comments, and reposts are appreciated! <3

[below the cut]

what are we doing here at the mall?” sunghoon stares ahead, seeing multiple clothing stores. he sees groups of girls going in and out of them while holding multiple shoppings bags. he sighs, already depicting himself holding bags for you as you go shopping.

“prom shopping, duh.” you proudly stated. your eyes brighten while eyeing each attractive store. 

“what’s the point of going to prom when you don’t have a date?” immediately your mood shut down as sunghoon slammed fact at your face while maintaining his blank stare. he was right, you don’t have a date, like an actual date. your last minute plan was to go with your childhood neighborhood best friend, platonically because disappointingly all of the hot guys in your school got dates. 

“you’re literally my date sunghoon.” you rolled your eyes and looked at sunghoon who seemed to have reddish cheeks. he looked away before you can turn to him, blocking his red cheeks from being seen.

you snickered, knowing that he is embarrassed since sunghoon doesn’t have a date either from his school. well, he rejected all of them. but that confused you more, he rejected all of the girls that asked him out but he didn’t mind going to your prom as your date. you don’t care now because you have a purpose to go prom-dressing.

“ooh windsor seems cute~” you skipped towards the store that caught your eye first. “woah..” your eyes sparkled at the glitterly lavender dress that has a slit on the right side of the leg and have gems around the chest area. this was your dream ever since you were little, going prom dressing and imagining yourself wearing your favorite dresses with your prince charming. 

but it had to be with sunghoon — nothing wrong with sunghoon but he was someone you didn’t expect for him to say yes.

i mean, both of you pinky promised ever since babies that you two would marry each other if both of you stayed single. you wondered if he remembers the same thing.

sunghoon stayed at the corner of the store, eyeing your excited self while scanning the various dresses in front of you as he held your bag after volunteering. he wonders what type of dresses you prefer.

he imagines you in some of the dresses he eyes wander on.

you insisted to keep your bag onto you but he persisted until you give up. his excuse was to “roam freely” — you dead looked at him in the eye replying that it’s bullshit.

you didn’t want to argue with him any further first thing you entered the mall so you let him deal with whatever.   

sunghoon doesn’t know what made him possessed to say yes to you when he received your text. he didn't even pay for prom, he was uninterested, but the thought of going with you - as his date, didn't seem too bad.

he remembered himself blushing crazy when he abruptly received your text message when he was hanging out with his friends. sunghoon took a pause in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at his screen with wide eyes. he slowly turned around and started running towards home, abandoning his startled, questioned friends. they heard silence except his shoes hitting the concrete floor.

two hours later, he replied with “sure” to remain nonclatant but little did you know his face was a blushing mess, feet in cold sweat to the fact he had to wear socks in bed, and his heart rapidly beating to the point he had high blood pressure. his mind was occupied onto you as he stared at your bedroom from across his window, wondering what you’re up to.

his parents were so confused as to why their son was acting this way. he was on cloud 9 when you asked him out but felt a bit sad when you mentioned to go together with plantonic feelings. 

you walked towards sunghoon with shrugged shoulders and a frown that made sunghoon be concered of your expression. “what happened?” sunghoon looked down at you, uttering a deep tone to indicate his concern. he was still seeing your pouty lips and your eyes being tight. “none of them are what i am looking for.”

maybe you’re acting like a spoiled child who cannot find their favorite toy but you believed that prom was the most important event in your life. you wanted to find your perfect dress.

then you opened your eyes, being face to face to sunghoon’s chest which made you feel uneasy at the unfamiliar appearance.

you then realized how close you are with sunghoon so you took a step back.

you sighed, looking up at sunghoon. “it’s fine we have multiple stores.” your motivated smile made sunghoon chuckle.

you left the store, then sunghoon behind you.

“that green looks like a swamp.” “that’s too glittery.” “too long.” “i look like a child of divorce with this dress!”

“i guess you’re picky.” sunghoon teased, ruffling your hair as he followed you exiting the last store. you still had an unsatisfied expression.

you didn’t react to his gesture since it was normal between the two of you. you didn’t mind sunghoon messing up your hair.

sunghoon felt bad and fixed your hair carefully, eyeing each strand of hair being back in the right place originally.

you looked from left to right onto where to explore, slightly giving up but not fully. you wanted to go home already and swallow yourself in your favorite blanket, blasting the AC on high volume while watching ever after high.

countless attempts of finding the right dress for you was too difficult. you’re starting to understand why people buy their dresses months before, you believe that the good batch of dresses were already brought before and you started to panic if you can even find one. 

“there’s nothing wrong with being picky..” you murmured, walking around in hopes another store caught your eye. “of course,” sunghoon responded. he continued. “you should keep your standards high, never settle for less.” you lightly scoffed, turning your head towards sunghoon with a mischevious expression. “is that why you’re still single?” 

you’ve always been curious of sunghoon’s standards are since he remains single throughout your high school years. middle school doesn’t count. his last relationship was a fail because he lost feelings for the girl.

yes, you admit he is shamelessly handsome and he knows that but have a personality of a delicate cat. which makes you laugh once in a while.

you still think of sunghoon as a child in an adult body.

sunghoon seems to be taken aback of your question. he tilted his head, thinking about it. “well…i never thought about it like that. i was gonna be more busier with each year, i’m not gonna have time for relationships.” sunghoon confessed nonchantly since it wasn’t a big deal for him. you nodded, understanding where he was coming from. 

“then..have you liked anyone before?” you questioned, also curious as you eyed the store’s figuerines on display. “that’s cute..” you whispered to yourself before looking back at sunghoon with a smile, waiting expectantly.

sunghoon’s heart jumped. he shivered when he felt the cold air passing behind him, glancing at you to see if you’ve noticed but he was so grateful that you were distracted by some damn figuerines. 

he immediately looked ahead when you looked back at him, geez why can’t i answer?

“n-no.” he choked on his words. you decided to poke his holes further when you noticed how nervous he was. you can read your best friend pretty easily. “really?” you stopped walking which made him also stop. sunghoon turned to his right and he held his breath when you leaned closer to his face, eyeing him like a hawk to justify his truth. “do you like someone now?”

“yes.” he muttered, still staring at your eyes. seconds of staring at each other made your heart suddenly fluttered which was weird and out of the norm. you held in your breath when none of you pulled away yet, continuing to gaze upon each other.

you realized the position you were in, especially when sunghoon easily towered over you. you immediately back away, sunghoon now smirking at your sudden nervousness. “wonder who’s the unfortunate girl..” you gulped on your words.

“why are you single?” sunghoon asked, hands in his pockets as he started walking. you coughed, hands rubbing your tight chest. “e-erm,” you tried to find an excuse. “just like you.. i have other priorities.” you didn’t see the little frown sunghoon made at your response. you weren’t lying but at the same time you were telling the truth. dating felt like it could affect your daily routine and studies.

okay, maybe your best friend seem a bit too handsome for your liking. it’s weird. wait

“how about this store?” sunghoon pointed at a store that was near the exit. you sneaked a glance, interested by the pretty dresses on display. you decided to go. “sure let’s go.” trying to distract yourself on what happened earlier. 

now sunghoon was reflecting on himself and what happened earlier as well as he sat down, waiting for you to try on the dresses. he was frustrated, he wanted you. it has always been you, ever since both of you pinky promised as babies.

that relationship he had in middle school - yeah he thought the girl was pretty but it was only to perform a distraction to get rid of his feeling for you.

your extroverted personality intimidated him ever since growing up. he wonders what makes you fearless and mentally strong. in moments where you fell down countless from playing tag with him, you didn’t cry. oddly - you continued to play with tag despite having a bleeding knee.

but when you would see his displeased face, you would offer him a lollipop that you keep inside your book bag just for fun.

he still has the candy wrapper somewhere inside his drawers.

but you don’t know that. he wanted to know if you were feeling the same way. is it worth ruining the friendship? is there any hope to turn it into something intimate? something more? he’s craving a lot of answers. 

as you were adjusting the dress, your hands slowed down on your straps when you also questioned the same thing. then memories of you and sunghoon started replaying on your mind; where both of you were in his bed one summer night after having a bbq dinner from your parents, talking about your futures together — where the both of you have to be involved in each others’ futures; where sunghoon gives you his hoodie without any question whenever you’re cold, where you packed an extra lunchbox for sunghoon because he was craving your pork cutlets. the past, happy memories slowly transitioned to the memories where you’re now questioning your feelings on sunghoon.

where sunghoon wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him when the train was crowded with people. you felt his chin touch the top of your head. you remembered your heartbeat being in the same speed as the train was going and you were glad sunghoon couldn’t see your blush — where sunghoon offered you to sleep on his shoulder on the way home after hanging out together — where both of your hands would featherly touch each other in random times but immediately both of you let go and feel electric shocks all over the body. 

so you’re gonna put your feelings on the test.

“hoon!” you called out on his nickname. sunghoon immediately paid attention to you. “yeah y/n? what happened?” you scrunched your nose when you hear the concern on his tone. 

you huffed out a breath. “can you help me with the zipper please?” you questioned why your heart is already beating fast. you hear the footsteps coming closer to you and you swore your heart was gonna jump out of the ribcage. 

behind you, you slightly opened the curtain, to prevent not only revealing the dress to him but as well as not wanting to face sunghoon. you can feel his eyes glued onto your back.

sunghoon rolled his tongue inside his cheek, feeling unusual even though he’s childhood friends with you. he noticed your hands trying to zip up your dress.

he took a step closer to you, you shivered when you can feel his chest against your back and your breath lingering on your bare neck. you gulped at the intense silence engulfed by the both of you. 

“silly you.” he let out a slight chuckle. you can feel his slight smirk from behind you.

“just help me park.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, hoping it’s something to ease the tension. 

“stop moving.” sunghoon hand was lightly placed on your waist which made you frozen. your eyes widened at the sudden touch. his eyes were focused on the zipper, his hands being gently so that he doesn’t hurt you. 

breathe y/n — breathe— 

shit.

you looked up from the ground to curiously see the scene with the mirror in front of you. the first thing was his figure, how his white shirt easily makes his body look good with his headphones around his neck. you can see his fluffy hair that you’re eager to touch. you see sunghoon’s tongue on the corner of his lips to indicate his concentration. your eyes slowly followed his hand, you eyed his watch — his hand on your waist. 

you suddenly wanna pass away. 

sunghoon sighed, “there.” you then immediately looked down to prevent any eye contact. goddamit y/n why are you so shy? 

“thanks.” you grabbed the curtain and shut the room in front of him, whining mentally at your shy self. you stared at yourself in front of the mirror, surprised at how red your cheeks are under the light.

sunghoon stood in front the curtain, surprised with his eyebrows furrowed but then his face relaxed into a soft smile before returning back to seat and waiting for you to reveal the dress to him.

him only. 

“so—“ he heard you through his headphones after some few minutes. you opened the curtain. “how do i do?” as sunghoon was pausing his music and taking his headphones off. you presented yourself wearing the dark red, sparkly dress, standing still and with a smile as you waited for sunghoon’s reponse. you smiled so hard, not containing your excitement that you felt while wearing the dress. it really made you feel like a princess. 

sunghoon stared at you for a couple of seconds then slowly looked down at your figure. how the dress was hugging your body, your curves were being emphasized, how it complimented your skin tone, god you were stunning. you literally looked like a goddess in front of him and he was willing to drop everything and pull you close just like earlier. sunghoon was utterly at a loss of words. his mouth wanted to spill out words but he was frozen.

what did you did do to him?

you caught him being speechless so you worried, forming a form. “i-is it not good?” you turned around to face the mirror in worry. 

but before you do it you heard him yell. “wait!” you paused. “it’s good. you look great.” your muscles relaxed after hearing sunghoon’s reassurance. you smiled, turning back around to face sunghoon. sunghoon was too shy to face you, looking away as he was gulping. 

“really great..” he coughed into his fist, clearing his throat. 

well that was good enough for you. 

“great!” you closed back the curtain to change back into your normal clothes. 

sunghoon cursed at himself mentally, hand coming to his head to massage his temples as he closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. he felt like this was torture.

as you’ve already bought the dress, both of you were hungry so you guys went to the food court.

“go find a table, i’ll get us something.” you frown at sunghoon’s suggestion. “no don’t pay for me. you’ve already gone through so much, it’s right if i pay for your meal.” you find your wallet through your bag that sunghoon is still holding for you. sunghoon shook his head, shutting down the zipper making you speechless. “no need it’s fine for me.” you insisted. “sunghoon-“ you whined.

sunghoon gave you a look that made you instantly sit down. “fine.” you rolled your eyes. sunghoon smiled as you followed his words, dropping the bags on the chair next to you. what a switch up.

you eyed sunghoon’s back disappearing slowly from your vision. you smiled when he headed to your favorite fast food place.

you were on your phone while waiting for sunghoon to come back. 

“y/n?” you looked up after hearing your name being called. both of you smiled — it was your classmate, taesan. you got out from your seat to hug him as taesan hugged you back tightly. “what are you doing here?” you asked him, going back to your seat.

“i went to the park with the guys.” indicating the basketball on the chair across from you and he turned his back, which made you see the bunch of his friends ordering from a different store. “i saw you sitting by yourself, are you also with your friends?” taesan smiled at you, also wondering why you’re here. 

“mhmm,” you nodded. “prom shopping.” taesan cursed. “shit i realized i have to do the same..” you giggled at his comment as taesan panicked a bit since it’s in a week. “good luck with that.” you saluted to him. “mhm thanks.” taesan smiled at your gesture.

“okay i gotta go and find a table for these hungry monsters. i’ll see you again.” taesan ruffled your hair, before leaving your table. “hey you’re gonna mess up my hair!” you playfully said, fixing your strands. “ugh my hair..” you commented to yourself.

a few seconds later, you’re startled when a plastic bag of food was placed in front of, rather harshly. 

you turned your head towards sunghoon when he pulled a chair next you and sat next to you with a serious expression. “who was that guy?” you’re confused at sunghoon’s question. 

“what guy?” your nervousness made you forget your memory. “why are you smiling to him like that?” 

did he watch the whole scene?

sunghoon kept staring at you, still maintaining a cold look that made you shiver. yeah, that’s the look that he is pissed at you.

you realized something. “park, are you jealous?” you eyed him which made sunghoon realize what he was doing and broke eye contact, letting out a puff of air.

but you are not letting it go until you got your answer. you leaned closer to him, tilting your head so he can look at you again but he’s resisting because he didn’t want to show that side to you. “mhmm are you jealous?” you asked annoingly, making sunghoon blush. you kept teasing him. he was covering his face with his hands but you wanted to see this scene unfold on you. “am not.” he muttered, making you laugh at how grumpy his voice was. “cmon, why are you jealous? hm?” you’re entertained.

he is envious that there are other guys who can make you smile and laugh.

you smiled as your hands were touching each of his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. sunghoon was pretty strong which made you struggle. 

“don’t test me.” sunghoon shot a glare after you removed his hands from his face. you gulped at the sight in front of you. “okay i won’t, i’m sorry.”you’re still smiling.

he crossed his arms, pouting. this wasn’t the sunghoon that you grew up with and you wondered how much he has grown up — and that you two aren’t kids anymore. 

“don’t worry about taesan, he has a girl.” you laid back to your seat, unpacking your chiptole bowl that sunghoon bought. sunghoon stayed silent, eyeing you unpacking the bowl with excitement that made sunghoon instantly forgive you but now he’s too embarrassed to speak to you. 

“uhm..” both of your heads turned to see a guy on your right side. the guy saw sunghoon’s grumpy face which made him gulp and nervous on what he was gonna say as you looked at him with a smile as an act of kindness. “i-i thought you’re pretty and i would like to ask if i can have your number?” the guy looked at you with sweaty glands all over his forehead, not daring to look at sunghoon or he will run away. you widened your eyes at the sudden confession.

“oh uhm-“

your bones became frozen when you felt one of sunghoon’s arms sneak around your neck, his fingers lightly touching your waist while his other arm was leaning on the table, eyeing the guy with apissed expression. he became close, too close when you felt his cheek be pressed onto yours.

he eyed the guy annoyingly, jaw clenched and eyes piercing through his body as you were a blushing mess and your heart fluttering too much. “she has a boyfriend.” sunghoon muttered, causing you to gasp lightly at his words. the way he said, felt like he really meant it.

you saw the guy panicked and apologized, running away from both of your visions. 

“cmon park, you scared the dude.” you turned to him as he removed his arm from your shoulder, leaning back to his seat. you were feeling bad for the guy but sunghoon didn’t feel bad.

“you didn’t decline.” sunghoon shrugged, making you wanna slap his shoulder at his egotistical self.

now that you’ve realized, you didn’t. 

“i-i..” you’re at a loss of words. you swear you’re gonna die in front of sunghoon if you get a heart attack. “right..” you muttered something that was not supposed to be aloud. but you didn’t notice, trying to calm yourself down.

sunghoon leaned closer to you, eyes staring at you as you saw him smiling, causing his fangs to be present. “i wouldn’t mind.”  

you realized where this was going and he indirectly confessed to you. sunghoon tilted his head to the side, entertained to see your blushing state. “i wouldn’t mind either.” his face dropped when you repeated the same thing to him without looking at him, coughing your nervousness out. 

both of your faces relaxed, smiling at each other, relieved that the both of you felt the same way towards each other. 

“so we’re gonna marry each other now?” sunghoon spoke, maintaining a slight smirk. he loves seeing you flustered like crazy. 

you’re surprised. “you’ve remembered?” sunghoon nodded proudly, playing the ends of your hair which made your heart beat even more crazy as if it’s not at its limit right now. 

“of course i remember, it’s you.” 

[softspiderling]

so obsessed with your ex | r.c.

summary: “Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

OR If Rebecca had known that her obsession with you would lead to you and Rafe getting back together, she would've done a whole lot different.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader / Rafe Cameron x OC

warnings: during most of this fic, Rafe is dating someone else. Sorry, it's part of the plot, but they don't do a lot of couple-y things, if that's any consolation! Rebecca is kind of delulu (actually, she is very delulu), but i'm hoping that most of you can relate to it, NO cheating!

word count: 4,1k

author's note: something very different, i'm aware, but i was like a woman cursed when i listened to olivia rodrigo's song sorry and this was what i envisioned. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!!! Also, I want to @ my loveys @rafesmuse and @rafetopia bc ily guys, thanks for the support and my wife @ghostofwriting mwah mwah mwah, happy reading!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rebecca had always felt secure in her relationship with Rafe.

Until she found out about you.

It all started when she was looking for a hair tie, knowing she had left a couple of them in Rafe’s bedroom whenever she stayed over.

“Baby, have you seen my hair ties? I swear I could’ve sworn I put them in the bedside drawer…” Rebecca muttered to herself, pulling open the drawers, rummaging through them. She froze when she brushed a pack of condoms aside to reveal a picture she had never seen before. Rafe was talking to her from the bathroom, but Rebecca couldn’t hear a thing as she picked up the picture, looking at it with a funny feeling.

The picture looked like it was taken mid-conversation as you and Rafe were standing closely together, having eyes for no one but each other. Even though you were barely touching, it felt weirdly intimate. Too intimate to be friendly. And Rebecca recognized you, she had seen you around Kildare before, but you never had made an active move to talk to Rafe when they were at a party, so if you were friends, he definitely would’ve introduced you to her, right?

“Bex, hey. Did you find one?”

“What?”

Flustered, Rebecca looked up from the picture, her cheeks red and Rafe raised an eyebrow at her, a hair tie on his open palm.

“I asked if you found a hair tie. I put them in the bathroom,” he said, rounding the bed to hand it to her. “What d’ya got there?”

“Oh, just a picture I found,” Rebecca said quickly, taking the hair tie out of his hand, moving to put the picture back in the drawer, but Rafe was quicker, snatching it out of her grip with a laugh.

“Are we starting to lie each other now?”

Rebecca watched him closely as he took a look at the picture, pressing her lips together as he paused, taking it in.

“That’s-” she broke off, clearing her throat, before she said your name. “… Right?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Rafe frowned, before he lifted his head to look at her. Rebecca couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. She had never seen him like this before.

“I didn’t know you dated her,” she said, nonchalantly, hoping he would deny it. But Rafe only shrugged, glancing at the picture one more time before he put it back in the drawer, shutting it close.

“We broke up before you came on the island, how were you supposed to know?”

Rafe pressed a kiss to her temple, but Rebecca was still fixated on the picture, staring at where she knew it laid inside the drawer.

“Are you ready? Top’s gonna come pick us up in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rebecca replied, distracted. “Uh, you can go downstairs, I’ll be down asap.”

“A’ight.”

Rebecca smiled at him, waiting until he left the room, before she slid open the drawer again, reaching for the picture to stare at it, her thumb rubbing circles into the corner, wondering who was still printing pictures in this day and age. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, jumping when she heard Rafe yelling for her.

“Bex, Top is here!”

“Coming!” Rebecca called back and without thinking, she slipped the picture into her purse before heading downstairs.

To say that Rebecca grew infatuated with you after finding that picture was an understatement. She was obsessed.

Okay, maybe not obsessed, that had a weird tone to it. Fixated.

She was pretty fixated on you.

Rebecca immediately had followed you on instagram when she got home later that night. Scrolling through your profile, she noticed that while you weren’t following Rafe and vice versa, you still followed all of his friends and his family. Rafe’s younger sister Wheezie seemed to be a constant in your life still, judging by her comments under all of your pictures. Apparently you were still well-liked by his family friends, and Rebecca started to wonder why you and Rafe broke up. But it wasn’t like she could ask Rafe why you broke up, right?

“What?” Topper stared at her, as if Rebecca had just asked him to give her 1k. His look made her nervous though, and she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Rafe was still out of earshot.

“You’re his best friend,” she stated, albeit unnecessarily. “You have to know.”

Topper rubbed his jaw, like he was conflicted, which Rebecca really didn’t understand. What was the big deal? She had intentionally waited until Topper was a little tipsy, and now she was wondering if that was a mistake, since he seemed strangely paranoid.

“You’re his girlfriend. Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”

“I don’t want to stir up trouble! Why can’t you just tell me?” Rebecca raised her voice, her cheeks flushing when she realized that people were starting to stare, so she burrowed deeper into the couch, waiting until everyone went back to their business. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked this at a party.

“It was a mutual break up,” Topper then answered, speaking slowly as if every single word leaving his mouth was painful. “Rafe never really told me why, but they just disappeared out of each other’s lives from one day to the next, as if they haven’t been dating for the last four years. But she never badmouthed him in the aftermath… Neither did he.”

Topper’s explanation just created more questions than it answered, but before Rebecca could get her thoughts sorted to prod Topper again, Rafe returned, his shoulders lose.

“Your drink,” he said, handing Rebecca a cup, settling down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over the back. He hadn’t even been sitting for a minute, when Topper got to his feet, muttering something about finding the pong table for a game.

“What’s with him?”

Rebecca only shrugged, choosing to sip on her drink instead of giving an answer, her mind still reeling from the information she got from Topper. The more she learned about you, the more she was intrigued and filled with questions, that she felt like would never be answered.

“You good?”

Rebecca barely lifted her head from the window she was leaning it, her reaction a little slow. She had been… Drinking a little more than she liked. Every time she wanted to ask Rafe about you, she stopped herself and went for another drink, and that process had repeated itself over and over again until Rafe cut her off, deciding to take her home. Rebecca was more than tipsy, her inhibitions slightly out of control.

“Fine,” she replied with a little sigh, rubbing her temple. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her and she could feel her resolve crumbling. “Why did you guys break up?”

The car swerved off the road for a second, making Rebecca grab onto the arm rest to keep steady while Rafe cursed.

“The fuck?” he said, glancing over at her with a frown. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Rebecca exhaled deeply through her lips before she looked over to him, her brows furrowed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Topper told me you were dating for four years, Rafe. Four years! But he couldn’t even tell me why. Isn’t he your best friend? He should know that, right?”

Rafe stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled the car to the side, the motor long off.

“Is this like a test or somethin’?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. I’m just genuinely curious. She seems-”

Nice? Super pretty? Like his perfect match?

She didn’t finish her sentence.

“What?” Rafe muttered under his breath, and Rebecca only scoffed in annoyance.

“Whatever,” she huffed, leaning her head against the window again. “Just forget it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rafe just sitting there, turning the ring on his finger, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“We got into a lot of fights near the end,” he started, his tone defeated. “She’s pretty headstrong, likes being right. I like sticking to my opinion… It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we both knew that something had to change, even though I still…. There was still love.”

Rafe stopped, but Rebecca held herself back with saying anything, wanting to soak up every bit of information he was willing to give her.

“We figured a clean cut would be best for both of us, have no contact. Give us a chance to start fresh, see new people.”

Rebecca could tell that he was holding something back, probably something along the line of how he was struggling with the no contact rule, but didn’t want to seem like he was still holding onto you.

“She’s really pretty,” she only said.

“Yeah.”

Do you still love her?

Rebecca was glad that she was still able to hold herself back enough to not ask that. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer that much.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah. You done throwing tantrums?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes with a small smile and settled back into her seat while Rafe started the car to continue their way home. Most girlfriends would probably feel angry that their boyfriend seemed to be so sentimental still when it came to their ex, but all that Rebecca could think about was how you clearly were someone he held dear, and that she wished to become that person for him.

And when she was about fall asleep after they got home to his place, she wondered how often you had fallen asleep on her side of Rafe’s bed like this. Did Rafe curl around your back like he did hers? Did you have to fight Rafe for the blankets? She thought finding out more about your past relationship with Rafe, she would stop obsessing you.

But she didn’t.

She kept it to herself, however, not mentioning you again after that one talk in the car she had with Rafe.

Rafe, who had been lighter ever since he talked about you, ever since she pushed him to talk about, which showed her that it was the right thing to do. Her fixation on you helped her relationship with Rafe and to her, that justified the amount of times she was checking out your social media, but Rafe wouldn’t understand. She admired you. Honestly, Rebecca felt like she could become pretty good friends with you, but what excuse did she have to talk to you besides dating your ex boyfriend? Worst case, she’d curse you out, best case she’d give you a fake smile. No thank you. Rebecca would much rather stick to admiring you from afar.

… Which was the reason why she was so nervous, when she met you for the first time. In her defense, this was the last place she had expected to see you. The place being Kelce’s house.

It was his birthday, and to celebrate it, he decided to throw a huge rager at his house. While Rebecca did arrive with Rafe, they quickly separated, with Rafe trying to find Kelce - this was his birthday after all - and her going to see her friends. After about two hours, and Rafe not replying to her texts, Rebecca started to walk around to see if she could find him. Which was easier said than done, the house was packed. When it took her nearly half an hour to get through the kitchen, Rebecca almost gave up until she saw Sarah sitting in the corner of the couch talking to someone.

“Sarah!”

Although Rebecca wasn’t the closest with her, she was about the only person she knew right now, and she could use a familiar face. Slipping between a kissing couple, she made her way straight to the couch, touching Sarah’s shoulder gingerly.

“Hey, I’m so glad I saw you. Have you seen Rafe anywhere? He hasn’t been answering his texts and I-”

Rebecca trailed off when she noticed Sarah glancing to her friend, only to realize that it was you who Sarah had been sitting with, and her words get stuck in her throat.

Oh.

“Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

“They’re probably in the basement,” you offered, maybe as some sort of olive branch. “Kelce likes to hide away down there to play pool during his parties.”

“Oh yeah yeah, Rafe probably doesn’t even have any bars down there,” Sarah chimed in.

“Right, okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, awkwardly. She stood behind the couch like a deer in headlights. You must have noticed, because you grabbed Sarah’s arm, scooting back on the couch to make more space.

“You can join us, if you want.”

“… Really?” Rebecca asked skeptically, not quite sure if the invitation was genuine or not.

“Yeah, ���course.”

Hesitantly, she sat down next to Sarah, trying to get comfortable but she was far too aware of your presence, placing her purse in her lap.

“So have you already settled into Kildare?”

Your eyes were inquisitive and Rebecca was trying to see if there was any sign of malice or distrust in them, but all she could see was genuine interest.

“I mean, I guess so… Life down here is pretty chill. Like it’s its own world…?” Rebecca winces at her own words. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”

“No, no!” You insisted, waving your hands at her quickly. “I know exactly what you mean. We went to Charleston once to tour the college campus there and it was like we were on another planet, remember Sar?”

Sarah’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly, slapping your arm in excitement. It looked like it hurt, but by the way you were laughing, Rebecca assumed it was a regular thing. She wouldn’t know, she barely ever spent over twenty minutes with Rafe’s sister.

“Remember when we were auditing that one sociology class and Rafe fell asleep during the lecture?”

“Oh my god, yes. Because he and Top were playing that stupid video game that came out two days earlier all night long.”

You and Sarah giggled as you reminisced about the past, like two best friends and Rebecca grew envious of your friendship, wondering if she was ever going to have that kind of relationship with Sarah, though you did have running start with building a friendship with her outside of being Rafe’s girlfriend. Or ex, rather. Rebecca started rummaging in her bag, acting like she was looking for something, doing anything to seem less excluded, really.

Your laughter subsided and you smiled at Rebecca, stilling her hands in her purse when she realized the attention was back on her.

“How is Rafe?”

“Oh you know him,” Rebecca replied, a little less nervous now that she was talking about a topic where she wouldn’t feel left out, taking her purse off her lap, placing it on the couch between her and Sarah. “The usual. He’s more focused on keeping up the company than ever, been away a lot.”

You nodded, tucking your hair back, and for a second, you looked incredibly sad. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, because a second later, you were smiling again.

“I’m really glad he has you,” you then said, completely surprising Rebecca. “I think you’re really good for him. Rafe has been really hard on himself, taking everything a little too seriously, and I think you’re really balancing it all out.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline by now, she was so shell-shocked she didn’t even notice Sarah clinking herself out of the conversation, crossing her arms as she sat back.

“Isn’t it weird for you?”

“You mean because he’s my ex and you’re his new girlfriend?” You smiled wryly at her. “I guess it’s a little weird. But it’s not like there’s any bad blood between Rafe and I… In the end, I just want him to be happy, and it seems like you’re making him happy.”

Ducking her head, Rebecca hoped that it was dark enough to conceal her red cheeks. To her, this felt like an insanely gracious statement and suddenly, Rebecca felt validated for obsessing over you so much. You were great and she wasn’t being parasocial.

“I- Thank you. That really means a lot.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, glancing at Sarah when she tugged on the ends of your hair gently. “What, do you want to leave?”

“I promised John B I’d meet him on the beach at sunrise.”

“Fine,” you sighed, you and Sarah standing up. Rebecca stayed seated, though she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the conversation was cut short.

“It was really nice to talk to, Rebecca. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Rebecca waved good bye to you and Sarah, watching as you left with Sarah whispering into your ear insistently. She sat there by herself for a while, replaying the conversation in her head, before she realized she was being weird. Clearing her throat, Rebecca grabbed her purse, that still sat open next to her, her smile dropping when she saw that the picture she had snuck from Rafe’s drawer was peaking out of it.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, pushing the picture deeper into her purse, before looking up into the crowd, wondering if you had seen it, and if you did, what you thought of her.

“Do you want to do something today?”

After discovering the picture had been sitting in the open like that, Rebecca started worrying if she just ruined her impression you had of her. But seriously, how stupid could she be? She completely forgot that the picture was in that purse. Rebecca had spent the remaining time at the party worrying what you thought of her.

“Like what?”

Rebecca rolled over in bed, looking up at Rafe as he got dressed. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for her to be tired after getting back from Kelce’s so late.

“I don’t know, something fun.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, his face disappearing momentarily while he put his shirt on.

“I have a meeting with Mr. Harris this afternoon and I’m meeting Dennis for an early lunch.”

“But it’s Sunday,” Rebecca pointed out, sitting up, a frown on her face.

“Work is work, no matter what kind of day it is.”

“Sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to do something fun for once,” she said, knowing she would spent the entire day worrying about what you thought of her if she wasn’t distracted, not noticing how Rafe was looking at her through the mirror.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never cared about that before.” Rafe paused, realization washing over his face. “You talked to-” His voice cracked, and Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.

“… You talked to her, didn’t you?”

Rebecca could hear the accusatory tone in his voice and she leaned against the headboard, drawing her legs close.

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe was quiet for a while and Rebecca could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn’t have two people be mad at her.

“That’s what she said?”

Nodding quickly, Rebecca smiled at him brightly. “Yeah. She was really nice. I like her.”

He let out a quiet huff, followed by a headshake, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Alright. Maybe I can cut my lunch meeting short and we can do something after,” Rafe relented, and Rebecca looked up at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later, alright?”

With a wave, Rafe left the bedroom, and Rebecca laid back down, letting out a happy sigh. Everything was working out in her favor!

A couple of hours later, Rebecca was standing in front of her closet, scanning the different clothes that hung in there, trying to decide on what to wear. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had planned, so she didn’t want to be completely inappropriately dressed. Letting out a annoyed sigh, Rebecca picked up her phone to text her friend for some fashion advice, stilling when she saw the new notification.

“Oh my god.”

You followed her back on insta! You must have not seen the picture after all and think she was weird!!!

Rebecca’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should dm you, maybe ask if you wanted to hang out, before she decided against it, putting her phone back on the dresser, face down. She didn’t want to seem to eager, she could wait a week.

Okay, maybe not a week, Rebecca thought, picking out some shorts and a red top, but a few days at least.

When she was all done, Rebecca grabbed the keys to her car, making her way over to Rafe’s place after he said he was done. It was a beautiful day out and she was so excited to see what he had planned for their date. Parking her car behind Rafe’s truck, she got out, heading inside.

“Baby, it’s me!” she called, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t have to wait long, until she could Rafe coming down the stairs, a box in his hand.

“What’s that?”

Rafe looked at her, his face unreadable.

“… What’s wrong?”

He let out a sigh, before stopping in front of her, and as Rebecca looked into the box, she realized it was full of her stuff.

“We need to talk,” he said, and her jaw dropped.

“What?”

“I just don’t think I’m in this relationship as I thought I was, and I don’t want to string you along, Bex,” Rafe explained, pushing the box into her arms. She just accepted the box, too shocked to do anything else.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No. You did the opposite, actually. Helped me see what I was really feeling. And I thought I’d get this over with, before anyone else gets hurt,” Rafe told her. “You understand, right?”

She only blinked at him, nodding dumbly.

A grin grew on Rafe’s face, and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Great. I knew you would understand.”

With an arm on her back, he lead Rebecca outside, and she just let him, moving on autopilot.

“I’ll see you around Bex,” he said, standing in the doorway, his hand on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”

With those words, Rafe shut the door in her face, and Rebecca just blinked, still not having processed the situation.

“And he said he doesn’t want to string you along?”

“Yes.”

The words were muffled.

Rebecca was facedown in her pillow, hoping to die of embarassment, even if Jane was her best friend in Kildare. It had taken her a week to recuperate before she could tell her friends what happened, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what had happened.

“Are you okay?”

She lifted her head, giving Jane a look.

“I just don’t understand why he broke up with me.”

Jane waved her off, picking up her phone. “Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back tom- Never mind.”

“What?”

Having stopped mid-sentence, Jane was staring at her phone, eyebrows raised so high and Rebecca groaned, taking the phone out of her hand.

“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of the-”

Her eyes widened when she saw what had rendered Jane speechless: Sarah had posted an instagram story, a picture of a couple walking hand in hand in front of her. It was dark and a little blurry, but Rebecca could tell exactly who it was: You and Rafe.

“He’s such an asshole!” Jane screeched, snatching her phone out of Rebecca’s hand. “Let’s egg his house!”

Rebecca only snorted, rubbing her hands over her face with a groan. “J, no. Believe it or not, but I feel like this one’s on me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: tell me what you think :)

[papaya-twinks]

have my babies - l.n

Warnings: 👶

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

SMAU

Faceclaim: random Pinterest girls

A/N - how could I not include Eminem tho also I have no idea if Eminem has insta, so, um, suck my dick

y/n

Caption: the archives never disappoint, look at my baddie bf

landonorris: I know where you live.

-> y/n: thansk yuo so do i

georgerussel63: haircut was rough 👎👎

-> y/n: ain’t it 😂😂

user1: HELP HES SO CUTE

user2: HES SO SQUISHYYYYY

maxverstappen1: I’m the og baddie tho

-> y/n: fr I’d never replace u

-> maxverstappen1: that’s what I thunked

-> ♥️ by author

landonorris

Caption: DM me for her address

y/n: woah buddster! wait I liv u with, stupid

-> landonorris: ur at Max’s 25/8

-> y/n: don’t expose me like that

maxverstappen1: YASSSS BADDIE 💅💅💅💅💅

-> y/n: ATE THAT SHIT UP RAAAAAA

carmenmundt: oh to have the confidence to do that in public

-> y/n: surely dating George is worse than wearing a happy meal box

user1: does he know we’ll ALL acc DM him

-> y/n: no, his package doesn’t come that smart unfortunately

y/n

Caption: Was chat just gonna not show me baby Eminem?

landonorris: HES FUCKING OVER DOUBLE MY AGE

-> y/n: not in that photo he’s not

-> landonorris: i- y/n 😔

-> y/n: he’s cute, I want a baby

-> landonorris: i-i can help 🙋‍♂️🥺

-> y/n: no

eminem: slim shady before the crack got him

-> y/n: AHHH YOURE ALIVE?! 😍😍😍😍

-> y/n: I MEAN UM

-> y/n: ITS JUST YOURE NIT VERY ACTIVE

-> y/n: I DIDNT MENA IT OFFENSIVEKY, UR NOT OLD 😫😫😫

-> eminem: replying was a mistake.

-> y/n: NO COME BACK

maxverstappen1: posting him b4 ur og baddie is wild, y/n.

-> y/n: IM SORRY IM UPSETTING EVERYONE TODAY

-> maxverstappen1: you should be

-> y/n: 😫😫

landonorris: really? right in front of the kids?

-> y/n: the kids you’ll give me 🥹?

y/n

Caption: RAAAA BADDIE SOMEONE GIFT ME DTI VIP SO I CAN RECREATE THIS FIT 💅💅

maxverstappen1: RAAAA YESSSS BADDIE AHHHH 🤪🤪🤪🤪

-> y/n: ATE THAT UP GIRLLLLLLL 😍😍😍😍

-> maxverstappen1: FR SLAYED THAT SHIIIII 😫😫😫

-> y/n: TYPE SHITTTTTT- I MEAN TYPE SHIFT (keeping it pg)

-> landonorris: I’m right here y/n 🥺

-> y/n: sorry, who r u

-> landonorris: the father of ur kids

-> y/n: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. no.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Very first - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Request: First time with Lewis. I had 5 requests for that and I hope I did it justice (sorry for how long it took for a couple of those requests)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, all sorts.

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +5K

a/n: Haven't written in first person in so long, but all the drafts felt better like this. Also, it's huge, ops. Hope you guys like it.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

It was easy with him, too easy maybe, but that's what made it so damn nice.

“So,” I started, turning to him with a half-smile. “You want to come up?”

We’d spent the morning driving through the countryside, talking about everything and nothing—his races, my job, the ridiculousness of the price of avocados.

His eyes met mine, and I could see the question there, like he was trying to read me. “You sure?”

It was cute that he was being cautious, but come on, we both knew why I was asking. I nodded, keeping my voice light. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the countryside air or just the fact that we had spent the day away from the madness of London, but today felt different.

Calmer, somehow.

I led him up the stairs to my apartment, trying not to think too much about how it had been a while since I’d let anyone in here.

Literally and figuratively.

“Welcome to my humble abode” I said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

He hesitated in the doorway, taking it all in.

My place was small, but it was mine—books, plants, a blanket that I was probably too attached to. It wasn’t flashy like the places he was used to, but I liked that about it.

“Nice place,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“It does the job” I replied with a shrug, kicking off my shoes. “Make yourself at home.”

He followed suit, slipping off his sneakers and setting them neatly by the door. “It suits you. Feels… grounded.”

I let out a soft laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

He leaned against the counter as we headed into the kitchen to grab some water.

But when handed him the glass, and our fingers brushed, it was fireworks all over again. God, how was I still reacting like a teenager with a crush?

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “So, today was fun.”

“It was,” I agreed, taking a drink to give myself something to do with my hands. “It’s nice to get out of the city for a bit. The countryside’s got this whole other vibe.”

“Yup” he said, setting his glass down. “Nice to just… let it go.”

“Even from the racing?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Especially from the racing,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

There was a beat of silence, and I could feel the shift in the air between us, that tension that had been simmering since our last date starting to bubble up again.

The last time… well, things had gotten pretty heated until his phone rang, snapping us both out of it.

It was a close call, but I’d pulled back, sticking to my rule. No rushing into things. I’d done that before, and it never ended well.

But this time, he was making it very hard for me to stick by that rule.

I wanted him, and from the way he was looking at me, I’d take a pretty good guess he wanted me too.

I took a step closer, letting my hand find his. That simple touch was all it took for the tension to skyrocket, and before I knew it, we were closing the distance between us, lips crashing together in a kiss that was anything but tentative.

His hands were on my waist, pulling me closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

God, the man could kiss.

It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, who you were, and why you ever thought not doing this was a good idea. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed me was anything but.

There was urgency there, a hunger that only fueled into my own, and I could feel it in every brush of his lips, every tug of his fingers on my shirt.

I pressed myself against him, deepening the kiss as I let my hands roam up his back, memorizing the feel of him.

The muscles there were as solid as they looked, and I couldn’t help but think that this man was literally built for this kind of thing.

I mean, I had the image of what he looked like shirtless—hell, half the world did—but feeling it under my fingers was a whole different story.

He let out a low groan against my lips, and I was losing myself in the kiss, in him, and for a second, I almost didn’t care about anything else. Almost.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath. “Y/n…”

The way he said my name, low and rough, made me want to pull him back in and never let go.

But there was something in his voice that made me pause.

“Yeah?” I whispered, my hands still resting on his shoulders, my eyes closed shut.

“I just… I don’t want to rush you” he said, his voice soft but serious. “I know last time… I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again.

Damn, he was really being careful, wasn’t he? But I appreciated it. More than I’d probably let on.

“Lewis” I started, taking a breath. “I want this. I want you. And I’m not saying that lightly.”

He studied me for a moment, like he was searching for any sign of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Not this time.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

I nodded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw tentatively. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all it took.

He kissed me again, and this time, there was no holding back.

And damn, if it wasn’t about time.

We barely made it through the hallway before his lips found mine again, pressing me against the wall with just the right amount of pressure.

God, he was good at this. I could feel the heat between us, the urgency in his touch making it clear where this was heading.

“Bedroom?” I mumbled against his lips, not really wanting to break the kiss but knowing we couldn’t just do this against the wall like teenagers.

Although, thinking it back the idea didn’t sound so bad.

As soon as we stepped inside his eyes landed on the teddy bear sitting in the middle of my bed. Of course.

“What’s this?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pointed to the bear.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to let him see how much I loved that he was trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s Mr. Bear, and he’s not going anywhere, so you’ll just have to deal.”

“Mr. Bear?” He picked it up, inspecting it like it was some kind of artifact. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure he approves.”

“He’s a tough cookie” I quipped, crossing my arms and giving him a look. “But you might want to focus on impressing me instead.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” he murmured, setting the bear down gently on the bedside table before turning back to me, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something much more intense.

He stepped closer, his hands finding the hem of my shirt. “Can I…?”

I sighed, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Lewis, if you ask me for permission one more time…”

He grinned, but there was something softer behind it. “Just making sure, love”

“I know,” I cut him off, my voice softer too. “But trust me, I want this. I want you.”

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, slipping his hands under my shirt and lifting it over my head.

His fingers grazed my skin, causing goosebumps down my skin as he took his time, clearly trying to be as gentle as possible, maybe even allowing for the time for me to back off.

It was sweet, really, but I was starting to get impatient.

“Lewis,” I said, a warning in my voice.

He chuckled, his hands moving to the waistband of my jeans. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop asking.”

“Good” I muttered, stepping out of my jeans as he slid them down my legs.

When I was finally standing in just my lingerie, his eyes roamed over me, and I could see the want—was it also awe? —in his eyes.

“I don’t think it’s fair,” I said, my voice teasing as I reached for the hem of his shirt.

“What’s not fair?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine with a tense stare.

“That you’re fully dressed” I replied, tugging at his shirt. “Especially when half the world uses your abs as gym inspiration.”

He laughed then; a deep, genuine sound that made my heart skip a beat. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

He raised his arms, letting me pull the shirt over his head. And yeah, the man was every bit as ripped as I had imagined.

I already knew what was under there, but damn, it was something else to see it up close like this.

And the tattoos. Those damn tattoos.

I ran my hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he watched me with that same intense gaze, like he was studying every move I made.

It was intoxicating, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered at that second.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.

“Much” I whispered, my fingers trailing down to his abs, feeling them tense under my touch.

His breath hitched slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile.

It was nice to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling a little overwhelmed by this. He might be Lewis Hamilton, but right now, he was just a guy standing in front of me, and I was the one making him nervous.

He softly guided my chin up and smiled, that stupidly soft and loving smile, before leaning into my lips, my hands exploring his back, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach.

He took his time though, his hands sliding up my sides to my back, and only then pausing at the clasp of my bra.

With his lips still hovering over mine he breathed into me. “Can I…?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Yes, Lewis. You can.”

And with that – and with his lips back on mine – he undid the clasp, letting the bra fall away as his hands moved over my now bare skin

Finally. And damn, if I wasn’t loving every second of it.

His lips started to trail from my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts, taking detours to worship every inch of skin he found on the way.

By the time his mouth reached my belly, I was practically trembling with anticipation.

When his fingers brushed the lace of my underwear, I couldn’t help the hiss that escaped my lips.

He paused, looking up at me with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. Without a word, he moved back up to capture my mouth with his, as if soothing the impatience brewing inside me.

And I was impatient. The slow, deliberate pace was driving me insane, and he knew it.

I kissed him back hard, my hands roaming down his sides until they found the waistband of his boxers.

I was more than ready to speed things up, and as I slipped my hand under the fabric, I was pleasantly surprised to find him already half-hard.

“Guess the rumors weren’t exaggerating,” I murmured against his lips, my fingers brushing over his length.

He responded with a low growl, one hand angling my head as he kissed me again, harder this time, effectively shutting me up.

But he never stopped me from continuing my exploration. I traced the outline of his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the way he twitched under my touch.

Knowing I could get this kind of reaction from him was a high I probably wouldn’t get over for a minute.

When he finally broke the kiss, I met his gaze, silently asking for permission to go further. “It’s all yours, babe.” He chuckled, a sound that made me want to attack him and hide all at once.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down.

The moment his dick sprang free, I couldn’t help the way my breath caught in my throat.

He wasn’t impossibly long, but he was definitely above average, and the girth—God, the girth—was enough to make my pulse quicken.

He was watching me, of course, catching every flicker of reaction on my face.

When he noticed my wide-eyed surprise, he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. His smile was warm, reassuring even “We’ll take it slow.”

I nodded, grateful for his patience even as it frustrated me. I returned his smile, my fingers wrapping around his length. His breath hitched the moment I touched him, and I couldn’t help but bat my eyes at him playfully.

“Gosh, you’re trouble” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.

I grinned, taking my time as I began to pump him, feeling the weight and heat of him in my hand.

When I reached the tip, I leaned down to press a kiss there, delighting in the way he shivered at the contact.

“Sensitive here, huh?” I teased, looking up at him.

Whatever retort he had in mind was lost when he dragged me back up to his lips, his hands firm on my hips as he effortlessly maneuvered me onto the bed, pressing my back against the headboard.

His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. “I’m good, love. But we need to make sure you’re ready” he murmured, his statement a promise to my ears.

Before I could respond, his mouth was on me again, trailing kisses down my body with single-minded focus.

When he reached my inner thighs, he took his time kissing through the fabric of my lace underwear, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips.

“Don’t tease,” I breathed, hating how desperate I sounded.

He giggled—that soft, infectious sound that I’d grown to love. “Just making sure” he whispered, his fingers hooking around the strings on my hips, slowly pulling the lace down and off.

As he finally took in the sight of my exposed cunt, his expression shifted into something almost reverent, like he was savoring the moment. He leaned down, leaving featherlight kisses on my outer lips, the gentle touch driving me wild.

“Lewis” I groaned, the frustration in my voice clear. “Please.”

He smiled against my skin, his breath hot against my thigh. “Patience, love. I’m just getting started.”

The first tentative lick sent a shockwave through my body, and my hands immediately grabbed at the sheets, fingers curling tight.

Every nerve on me was on fire, heightened by the slow, deliberate pace he was setting.

And just when I thought I might float away, he hooked an arm around my hips, anchoring me in place. His other hand found mine, fingers intertwining, as if he needed to connect with me anymore.

His eyes never left mine, and even if I wanted, I couldn’t really stop watching as his tongue lapped up my clit. A gasp escaping my lips as the pleasure spiked through me.

“Fuck,” I muttered, barely coherent.

He continued, his tongue moving with just the right pace, not rushing, just giving me enough to keep me teetering on the edge.

When he felt I was wet enough, he let go of my hand, moving it down to tease at my entrance with a single digit.

“I’ll need words from here, love” he murmured, his voice muffled. “Tell me what you like.”

“Don’t stop,” I managed to say, my voice shaky, almost pleading. “Just—don’t stop.”

With a grin, he slid a single finger inside me, his own hiss vibrating through the room as he felt my walls.

“You’re so tight,” he breathed, a note of awe in his voice. “This is gonna be heaven.”

He took his time, exploring with just that one finger, feeling around until he found the spot that had me squirming under him. When he hit it, I couldn’t help the moan that tore from my throat, my hips bucking involuntarily.

“Found it” he said with a satisfied smile, his eyes locking onto mine.

Then he added a second finger, the light stretch already making me gasp.

He started a scissoring motion, opening me up, getting me ready. All the while, his tongue didn’t let up, lapping at my clit in perfect rhythm, just enough to keep me on edge without pushing me over.

The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with my ragged breathing and his low murmurs of praise.

He was studying me, like he was learning exactly how to make me fall apart under him.

After what felt like an eternity of this sweet torment, he finally pulled back, sitting on his heels.

I watched as he switched to his middle and ring fingers, angling them just right before sliding back into me.

The feeling was delicious, and when he curled his fingers and found that spot again, I cried out, my hips lifting off the bed.

“Easy” he murmured, his free arm holding me in place as he started a relentless up-and-down motion.

His thumb brushed over my clit, making my breath caught in my throat and my head spin.

I was completely at his mercy, the pleasure building and building until I could hardly breathe.

The wet noises from where his fingers worked inside me were obscene, mingling with the desperate little sounds I couldn’t hold back.

He kept on the soft praises, but they were swallowed by my moans as I got closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hit.

My vision went white, and all I could do was hold onto his arm on his hips, feeling the waves of pleasure crash over me again and again. My whole body tensing before it felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.

He didn’t stop until he was sure I’d ridden out every last bit of it, his fingers slowing their movements but never letting up until I was trembling beneath him.

Only then did he pull his fingers out.

When I finally came back to myself, I found him watching me with a look that was equal parts smug and adoring.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as if sealing the moment. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice gentle now.

I could only nod, too blissed out to form a coherent thought, let alone words.

And then he had the nerve to ask if I had one more in me, and again all I could do was nod.

But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for him. “I need words,” he insisted, and barely managed to get out “Fucking hell, you’re not leaving me without the rest.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t deny how endearing it was.

How many green flags could one guy have? Annoyingly checking every damn box.

When he went to his wallet, I knew what was coming next.

He handed me the condom packet, giving me that same patient, earnest look, like he was asking if I could handle one more thing.

I reached for him, giving him a few more pumps just to feel him twitch in my hand. Sliding the condom on, I could feel the heat building again, a rush of anticipation making my heart race.

He adjusted our position like he was handling something precious—placing a pillow just under my back, so deliberate and thoughtful.

But when he rested his dick on my inner thigh, all those coherent thoughts I had left my brain like it was suddenly a foreign language, and I remembered the girth.

Holy shit. How was I supposed to handle that?

The weight of him, the sheer size, and the fact that I was supposed to take it in?

Was this man sculpted by the gods or what?

And why did I have to get stuck on how considerate he was instead of focusing on the absolute insanity about to happen?

Before I could spiral any further, he came up to me, his lips brushing mine, dragging me back into the present. “We’ll take all the time you need, okay?” his voice like honey, smooth and sweet.

And there I was, rolling my eyes again, even as the warmth spread through me.

I wanted to snap back, something sassy on the tip of my tongue, but then his tip entered me, and all I could do was hiss at the sensation.

He kissed me through the first thrust, his dick practically ripping through my walls, and my hands automatically went to his back, nails digging into his skin, holding on for dear life.

I tried to breathe, tried to adjust to the stretch, but when he finally stopped, I realized he wasn’t even fully in yet.

My eyes shot down, and sure enough, he was still focused, his breathing controlled, and all I heard was a low murmur, “Geez, you really are tight.”

I felt his arms on either side of me, solid and reassuring, and I squeezed them gently. His eyes instantly found mine, filled with concern, and I had to smile softly. “Move, Lewis. Just please, move.”

And then he did, thrusting into me with an agonizing slowness, deeper with each motion, until finally, I felt his balls press against my ass, and he sighed like he’d found what he was looking for.

My mind, however, was a different story.

Holy shit, how was I still breathing? I was split open in the best way possible, and all I could think was how the hell was this man real.

I was sure each thrust was going to create its own memory, and I was teetering between wanting to scream at the top of my lungs and begging him to go even harder.

But there was something about how he moved—deliberate, careful, like he was savoring every second, every reaction I gave him.

The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world, was enough to push me over the edge again. And I could tell he was holding back, trying to keep control, trying to make sure I was okay, even as his own need was practically vibrating through his body.

God, I’m so screwed, and not just in the physical sense.

I was falling, fast and hard, and there was no stopping it now.

Not when he felt this good, not when he was this good to me.

Every thrust made me crave more, made me cling to him tighter, made me want to lose myself in him completely.

Lewis’s focus was entirely on me, and it was like he was memorizing every gasp, every twitch, every reaction.

It was overwhelming, in the best possible way, but still I needed more.

I wanted to be the one in control, to feel him from a different angle, to see what this man—this ridiculous, considerate, and sexy man—would do when I took the reins.

Leaning into his ear, I whispered, “I want to ride you.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before I felt him tense beneath me, half-worried, half-hopeful.

It was adorable, really, how he tried to mask his excitement with concern.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, and there was that hint of amusement in his voice, but I could also hear the edge of desperation.

Did he really want this as much as I did, maybe even more?

“We’ll take it slow, right?” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.

I sat up, pulling away just enough to guide him to sit on the bed, and as I moved into his lap, I could feel his heart on his chest.

Slowly, I lowered myself onto his dick, feeling every inch stretch me again, filling me completely.

My lips parted in an involuntary gasp, my eyes squeezing shut as I adjusted to the sensation.

His hands found my waist, gripping tightly as if grounding himself, and when I finally opened my eyes, he was staring at me with that same soft smile that always managed to break through my sarcasm.

I couldn’t help but smile back, pulling him into a kiss, the kind that had me wrapping me around him.

I started moving, rocking back and forth, feeling the friction build and spiral.

The kiss broke when he moaned against my lips, a sound that only spurred me on, making my moves harder, seeking more.

His hands guided me, helping me rise and fall on him, and every time his tip brushed against my cervix, I saw starts. It was so intense it almost bordered on pain.

I let out a cry, my body trembling at the sensation, and he immediately stilled, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and it was almost ridiculous how serious he was, but also incredibly sweet.

I looked down at him, half breathless, half in awe of how he managed to be so considerate, even in the heat of the moment. “Going to be even better when you drag that other orgasm out of me, like you promised.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He started to thrust up and I matched him, riding him faster, until I could feel that familiar tension coil tightly in my belly.

I wasn’t going to last much longer, and by the way he was groaning beneath me, neither was he.

A few more thrusts, and I stilled, holding him down by his abdomen, feeling the shift in him as he realized what was happening.

He searched my face, and then his expression shifted as he felt my walls clenching around him, my legs shaking as I came undone.

I couldn’t keep myself upright, collapsing into his chest as wave after wave washed over me.

Lewis took that moment to start thrusting again, riding out my orgasm, and I was vaguely aware of the way he was holding me, like he didn’t want to let go.

I could feel his rhythm faltering, and it wasn’t long before he let out a deep grunt, his fingers digging into my waist as he held me in place and his moans were all I heard.

We were both breathing hard, tangled together, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

It was just us, in this moment, and I couldn’t help the ridiculous surge of affection for him.

Who knew I’d end up here, wrapped up in the arms of a guy like Lewis? But here I was, completely wrecked and somehow, already craving more.

As I eased off his lap, I heard a low moan escape his lips, and I giggled as I looked down at him, sprawled out on the bed with a stupid grin plastered across his face.

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" I teased, reaching down to carefully remove the condom, trying to catch the mess inside. He didn't even respond, just lay there looking like the cat who got the cream.

I slipped off to the bathroom, tossing the condom in the toilet before taking a moment to pee—because there was no way I was dealing with a UTI when I had Lewis to myself like that.

And just that thought was ridiculous on its own.

When I came back into the bedroom, Lewis immediately pulled me into his arms, almost like he was afraid I’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

He was sweet in the aftercare, his voice soft as he asked, “How was it? How do you feel?”

I could hear the concern laced in his tone, but that grin was still there, tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was impossible not to smile back, even as I decided to mess with him a little. My fingers wandered lower, tracing the lines of his lower waist, and I looked up at him with a teasing glint in my eyes.

“You know” I started, trying to keep a straight face, “I always thought you were a shower… I’m glad to see you’re also a grower.”

Lewis giggled, his chest vibrating under my chin as he shook his head in mock disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I mean, it’s only fair to acknowledge all of your… talents.”

He shook his head again, but I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. “And here I thought I had you speechless.”

“You did” I assured him, my fingers dancing across his skin again. “But I can’t stay quiet for long.”

He chuckled, pulling me closer, his hand running up and down my back in soothing strokes. “I’m glad. It’s part of your charm.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through me at his words. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

His grin softened into something more tender as he looked down at me. “You make it easy to be sweet.”

I pretended to look annoyed, but the smile on my face gave me away. “Okay, that was disgustingly cute. But fine, I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he teased, his hand coming up to gently brush my cheek “What if I want to be disgustingly cute more often?”

I hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “I guess I could get used to it… as long as you keep up the other stuff too.”

He giggled again, that carefree sound that I was quickly falling for. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m planning on sticking for a bit.”

I smirked, resting my hand on his chest. “I think I can manage that.”

______________________________________________________________

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[giannaln4]

Silly Little Bet

lando norris x artist!reader

summary: You were an artist and Lando loved to do what you did best with you, even if he wasn't very good at it. (917 words)

warnings: this turns into a make out (not heavy, very short), use of y/n

a/n: hi lovelies! i know i said i was going to take a little break, but honestly i just need to not think about quali today (still crying about it idk what to tell you). anyway, this is incredibly short so i’m sorry but i still hope you enjoy it! pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻 i also wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me and sent support ❤️‍🩹 ily all so much, i really appreciate it!!

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Quiet nights were your absolute favourites. Getting to spend time with your boyfriend without having to worry about some schedule one of you had to stick to was perfect, to say the least. You always found a way to occupy yourselves, doing anything and nothing at the same time. 

Tonight, though, you got to do one of your favourite activities: art. You were an artist, a professional one, and of course he loved that about you; he loved seeing you in your element, so focused on what you did best, and even though he didn’t know yet, you loved dragging him with you so you could see him struggle a bit to at least not be the worst artist the world has ever seen.

Now, he was extremely talented, and if he weren’t a racer, he would be somewhat of an artist; he’s said it himself many times, but that was before he met you, because compared to you, he would never say that about himself, no matter how many times you have said it to him. 

Right now, you found yourselves sitting on your shared bed, facing each other, trying to win a silly little bet you made earlier. It was simple, really. You were supposed to draw the other person, and whoever loses would have to come up with a plan for dinner, which the both of you already knew would end up being a homemade meal, eating it on the couch, and watching some dumb show. This really worked out for him because, as talented as he was, he still struggled to draw real people, and he knew he was setting himself up when he accepted.

You knew that too, and you also knew he only gave in so he could have another one of your drawings of him. But that was okay, because another one of your favourite things was to admire his focused expression while he tried to replicate someone on a blank piece of paper. 

If he was being completely honest, the top reason he loved doing some type of art with you was because you would always come up to him and help with something, holding and guiding his hand or just being really close to his face as you explained something, so he would never say no to that suggestion.

“Okay, so I do you and you do me. Do I have to paint it as well?” He asked as you poured some of your art supplies on the bed.

“No, just a quick sketch,” you replied, scanning the bed as you carefully chose the pencil you wanted to use. “I’m starving, anyway.”

You started sketching each other; you were faster (and probably better) than him, but you couldn’t help but blush any time his eyes fixated on your face for too long, studying every aspect of you to try to draw it. After several minutes, you were done, just finishing up a few details before placing the paper on the bedside table next to you, away from him so he wouldn’t see it yet.

“How is it going?” You asked.

He looked up at you and yelled, “Don’t move!” When you started to get up.

"Sorry,” you whispered, going back to your previous position.

You stayed like that for a while, watching as Lando looked at you repeatedly and then back at the paper, occasionally erasing stuff. He was almost done, but there was one thing holding him back. “I can’t get it right,” he sighed, dropping the pencil.

“What can’t you get right?”

“Your lips. They look too big or too small, and now the paper looks worn out from erasing so much.” He was clearly frustrated.

“Can I see it?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lando asked you with an embarrassed look.

“Of course I’m not going to laugh; why would I do that?”

“You are a real artist, Y/N. You finished a while ago, and I’ve been stuck here trying to fix it, but I’ve only made it worse.”

“Lando, you are actually talented; I don’t make you do art with me because I wanna have a laugh. C’mon, show me.”

He sighed again and slowly turned the paper, showing you the drawing. “It looks terrible.”

Your eyes set on the paper, and an endeared smile appeared on your face. “It looks great, baby.”

"No, it doesn’t; as I said, you’re an artist, and you know exactly what’s wrong with it.”

“I mean it." You whispered, leaving your spot on the bed and sitting next to him, “Maybe the proportions are a bit off, but it does look great, I promise.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a smile, a moment of silence filling the room as you both stared at the drawing. “You know, maybe I just need to take a closer look at them.”

“Oh- I guess that would be helpful." You turned your body to face him, cupping his cheek and brushing away a few curls that rested on his forehead. “Do you want help?”

He nodded and broke the distance between you, locking his lips with yours as he pulled you onto his lap and his hands fell on your hips to intensify the kiss. You got closer and closer, pausing when your bodies couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other even if you tried.

“You know I can actually help you,” you said against his lips and in between kisses.

“Uh huh” Lando replied, not really thinking about the drawing anymore.

[frostbitebakery]

for @ferretrade

.Hashmarks

“I’ve seen a few troopers commemorating their kills with those,” Aayla comments, pointing her stylus at his collarbone where his shirt has slipped down.

It’s absolutely sweltering on this planet whose name Bly is saving in his long term memory just to avoid it in the future. Breathing feels like swallowing water, sitting still has him sweating more profusely than the 16-hour battle sims they endured during training. So of course his temp-regulating undersuit is shot to hell and their quartermaster is a mean bastard trying to teach him a lesson in taking better care of his stuff.

Bly had wanted to cry and beg for mercy.

Instead he had narrowed his eyes, nodded once in menacing silence, and turned back to his duties, hoping to instill at least some fear and regret in Q.

Aayla, his cruel savior, had crinkled her nose at him and offered a very large, very billowy shirt when he had sweat-squelched his way to their command tent. “It’s Quinlan’s, originally,” she had explained at his curious look. “He didn’t want it anymore.”

“Too many sleeves?” Bly had guessed hazardously.

So now he’s sitting in shorts and a billowy shirt at their shared desk, the collar constantly slipping off his shoulder because Vos is huge, and it’s an all-around aggravating situation. Except Aayla who’s lovely and can do no wrong, obviously. But who’s also taking an interest in his tattoos which Bly is not prepared for since his brain is actively melting.

“They’re for my batch mates,” he thus replies to her inquiry.

While the frown is settling into her features, her eyes flick down to count the marks.

Bly kind of wants to cringe. Oops.

“I thought batches were… decanted,” bless her for stumbling over that word, “in fives?”

He leans back, shrugs deliberately which has the added bonus of the shirt hiding the hashmarks again. “Now, yeah.”

“Cody, Wolffe, Fox,” she counts, her eyes boring into him. She’s like a massif with a bone, and there are moments Bly wants to be a chew toy. Sadly, this isn’t one of them. “I’m sorry about Ponds,” she says, means it with all her heart. “And you. I thought that was your batch?”

“Now. Yeah,” he repeats, half-smile lifting one side of his mouth. Does his best to not let the relief be palpable for her senses.

.Lightning

“Does it really have to mean anything when it looks this cool?” He almost cracks his neck trying to look at his back in the mirror. Lightning bolts strike out from his spine, wrapping around his upper arms like electric wings.

So cool.

“Your body, your choice,” Aayla says diplomatically.

Never mind the nay-sayers.

.Tic Tac Toe

“Ow,” Bly groans.

“Fucking tubie,” Squid hisses at him, bloody hands doing stuff way too fast for him to follow, “stop crying, it’s just a flesh wound.”

Holy hell, but the spots in front of his eyes do seem to grow larger. “You’re holding my innards,” he points out just as Squid throws away something bloody. “Don’t I still need that?”

“That was a wound pad, stupid.”

Wow, the black spots are in color now. “Mind the regs, soldier,” he slurs out.

Squid pulls a bandage - when did he do that? He’s incredible. He makes tattoos and medic stuff! - way too tight. “Commander Stupid,” he relents with another harsh pull. Bly pouts at him. “Congrats, you won the game.”

Bly weakly fist bumps the air. “Yay.”

.327

“Well,” he huffs out with a chuckle, leans back against the hull, “they’re my everything. Body, heart, soul. I’m ready to die for them.”

“They’re ready to die for you, too,” Aayla says quietly.

“Yeah.” He watches her roll the mug a trooper, long gone, made for her between her hands. “Wish they’d stop that.”

.Splinters

Squid wipes away the excess ink with ease and practice. “Well, it looks as stupid as you wanted it to. My work here is done.”

“Are you sure you can’t see the tattoo underneath?”

“Of course.” Squid pulls off the stained gloves, throwing him a judging side-eye. “No one will know what exactly you “hearted”, Commander.”

.Text

“Out of my way,” Aayla reads off his hand while he is unfairly under the influence of way too many drugs, “Rippin off my flesh, so you can’t recognize me, anymore.”

“I was an angsty youth,” he explains, maybe still sore about Wash forgetting the g in ripping.

She nods sagely. “That explains your taste in music.”

“I love polka.”

“No, the other one—“ She pats his hand which she’s still holding. His hand is so lucky. “Never mind. When you get out of here I’m introducing you to grunge and taking you flannel-shopping.”

His head is already nodding. His body is awesome at responding. “You’re like my sugar daddy,” he compliments her. Her and her twin. No, that can’t be right. He blinks and there’s only one Aayla again.

She snorts at him. “Showing you the holonet has been a mistake and keeps me up at night.”

.Flowers

“I wanna be a hi—,” Bly hiccups, fumbles with his drink before it goes all over Cody. “Hibi—“

“Hibiscus,” Fox suggests more drily than his drink.

“That one! I wanna be a hibiscus in my next life.” Just chilling in the sun all day, getting watered.

“I wanna be a spexcel sheet,” Cody says to the soaked through napkin which is stuck to his face but also to the table.

“We know,” the rest of them say in unison.

Man, being a hibiscus would be amazing. He will not remember this by morning.

Bly sits up in alarm at that revelation, spills his drink over Cody anyway. “I will not remember wanting to be a hibiscus,” he says, keeps his voice from wobbling by the skin of his teeth.

“You could write it on Cody the spexcel sheet to remember,” Wolffe suggests, pats Cody’s head when vague grunts of agreement sound from the napkin.

“Or,” Fox drawls out with a slow grin.

.

Bly very carefully tugs on the bandage with squinting eyes. The foil and adhesive separating from his skin is loud as fuck but needs must when it comes to facing the fallout of a drunken night. The bandage slowly reveals tender but well-healing skin, gold and a dark brown accentuating his skin.

He stares.

“This is not a hibiscus.”

[catmiemy]

New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.

A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.

This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!

You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.

How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.

However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?

In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.

Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway��, you reasoned with yourself.

R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.

L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!

You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…

You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.

R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.

With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw?  As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.

L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!

Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.

R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!

And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.

Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.

First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.

As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.

You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.

At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.

When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.

This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!

The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.

You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.

Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.

R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!

You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.

---

“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”

Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.

“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.

“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.

“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”

Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.

A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.

It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.

Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.

Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.

Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!

Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.

Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.

It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.

After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.

Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.

So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.

It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.

“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.

“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.

Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.

---

When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.

The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.

However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.

“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”

You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.

“Could be worse,” you replied.

Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.

“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.

For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.

“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.

“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.

“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.

“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.

You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.

“A cuddle?”

Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.

It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.

“Why did you sit all the way over there?”

All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.

Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.

“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.

“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.

Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.

Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.

That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.

You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.

In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.

So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.

Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.

Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.

“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.

You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.

Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.

“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.

“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.

“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.

“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”

Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.

“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.

You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.

“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.

“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.

“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.

When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.

[requiemforthepoets]

en garde! 𖦹 CL16

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY: charles had been asking you to teach him fencing, and you finally did.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: smau mixed with narrations, inconsistent photos, typos, not proofread, cursing, no use of y/n on the narrations, poorly google translated italian, and all photos are taken from pinterest

FACE CLAIMS: all from pinterest

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s been a long time since i added a new fic to my leclerc!sister series, so here it is hehe sorry, i’ve yapped a LOT about fencing on the narration part, so pls forgive me 😭 i hope i didn’t bore you a lot with fencing stuff 😭 i’m also accepting request for this series (i’m running out on ideas lmao 🥲) but i hope that you’ll enjoy this one!

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, sofia_rossi, marcoromano.fencing, landonorris and 783,984 others

ynleclerc E' passato un po' di tempo, Italia 💘

view all 12,837 comments

charles_leclerc when are you coming home?

ynleclerc idk, why?

charles_leclerc are you serious right now 😐

ynleclerc what…🧍🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc check my messages for once 😐

username1 OH HOW I MISSED YOU 😭

username2 the y/n drought has finally ended!!!! 😭

username3 MOTHER IS BACK, MOTHER HAS POSTED 😭🎉

landonorris thank god you’re alive. i thought you’re already dead somewhere 😔💔

ynleclerc bro what 😭

landonorris anyways, when will you teach me how to fence for a new quadrant yt vid

ynleclerc you sure you’re up for it? don’t want you poking yourself with the foil

landonorris 😠😠😠😠

sofia_rossi CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!!

ynleclerc 🥰🥰🥰

username4 OUR FAV FENCING DUO IS GOING TO SEE EACH OTHER SOON??? OMG 😭❤️

francisca.cgomes you’re in italy and you didn’t even tell me? 😠

ynleclerc I FORGOT IM SORRY IM SORRY!! but hey, i’m italy 🥰 hangout soon?

francisca.cgomes of course!!! just text meeee!!

username5 SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD 🥳

ynleclerc posted a story!

liked by charles_leclerc, sofia_rossi, yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes, marcoromano.fencing and others

charles_leclerc when will you teach me fencing 😔

charles_leclerc can’t believe it’s so hard to schedule one with you 💔💔💔

charles_leclerc i need big brother privileges 💔

ynleclerc USHCJJSJD CHARLES 😭

ynleclerc i’ll be home by next week! (hopefully you’ll be home as well 🤥) damn, can’t believe our schedules never really align

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️

francisca.cgomes i’m free tomorrow!! how about we go out for brunch?

ynleclerc KIKAAAA!! yes yes, ofc! ❤️

francisca.cgomes YAY!!

username6 OUR FENCING DUO WILL BE REUNITED SOON 😭❤️

username7 oh we pray for times like this (you being active on ig 😔💔)

MONACO

The sound of clashing blades echoed through the halls of the Club d’Escrime, a backdrop to your training session with Marco, your Italian coach. Fully suited in your white fencing uniform, mask tucked under your arm, you watched the double doors open, revealing your brother, Charles and his videographer, Antoine. The latter already had his camera rolling, and Charles, in his usual casual style—jeans, a dark hoodie, and white sneakers, looking like he had just stepped off a magazine cover.

“Finally!” You said, walking towards them with a smile. “Thought you’d never make it.”

Charles chuckled, spreading his arms in mock exasperation. “Don’t start! You’re the one who’s always impossible to catch. What is it this week? Tokyo? Budapest?”

“Home, for once,” you replied with a laugh, gesturing around the salle. “But that’s rare, as you know.”

“The place is very stunning,” Charles said, as he marveled the interior of the salle. “So this is where gold medals are made?” He teased.

“Something like that,” you replied, your voice light with pride. “Though Marco here deserves half the credit.”

“Ah, Charles! Finalmente ci incontriamo,” Marco greeted, shaking Charles’ hand firmly. His thick Italian accent added a charm to his words. “Your sister talks about you a lot.”

“È un piacere finalmente conoscerti. Lei non parla mai di me quando vinco, però.” He joked, shooting a playful look your way.

“Not true, and you know it.” You rolled your eyes at the comment.

Marco laughed, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Well today, we’ll see if athletic talent runs in the family, sì?”

“Okay, so here we are at the Club d’Escrime in Monaco. This is where my sister trains—when she’s not winning Olympic gold, of course,” he said grinning at you and turning towards the camera.

“We’ve been planning this fencing lesson for many months now, but with her busy training schedule and my racing calendar, it’s been almost impossible to find a day that worked for both of us. So finally, today is the day!” Charles added.

“Did you mention how excited you’ve been?” You quipped, folding your arms.

Charles smirked. “I may have. But, let’s be honest, you’re probably more nervous than I am.”

“Nervous?” You scoffed. “Why would I be nervous? You’re the one holding a weapon for the first time.”

“Ah, but I’ve seen the movies,” he countered, mimicking a clumsy lunge. “How hard can it be?”

You laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head. “We’ll see how long that confidence lasts when Marco puts you through the warm-up.”

“Speaking of which,” Marco interjected, “shall we start soon? Time is short, and I want to see if he can last more than five minutes.”

“You’re in for a workout.” You teased and smiled.

Charles gave an exaggerated sigh but could not hide his amusement. “Great. I love being underestimated.”

“You’re about to learn that fencing isn't as easy as people make it look on TV.” You smiled at the camera.

“Or tiktok.” Charles quipped, earning a chuckle from Marco.

You gestured towards the piste. “Alright, let’s get you geared up. I don’t want to hear any excuses later.”

Once Charles was all suited up, he stepped onto the piste, fully suited in his borrowed fencing gear, and you couldn’t help but pause. There was something striking about the way the jacket, breeches, and long socks suited him. The silver sheen of the lamé, a metallic vest worn over the jacket for scoring, added an almost regal touch. You smirked as you took in the sight of your brother adjusting his gloves.

“Oh my god. I’ve never looked so good.” Charles said as he came out all suited up.

“Would you look at that,” you began, folding your arms. “Hate to admit it, but you look good. Maybe too good.”

Charles glanced up, clearly amused. “Oh? Surprised your brother cleans up well?”

“I’m just saying, if this racing thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future as a fencer. Imagine, Charles Leclerc, Olympic Champion.” You gave him an exaggerated once-over. “The gear suits you.”

“I mean, I do look the part.” He smiled, striking a mock fencing pose, which was more comedic than impressive.

“You do,” you admitted with a laugh. “But let’s see if you can move like a fencer before you start planning your second career.”

“Basta con i complimenti. Time for the warm-up! No excuses later when your legs start complaining.” Marco smiled.

Charles groaned playfully, shooting you a mock glare. “Leg day already gets me in the gym. Don’t let him overdo it.”

“Stop whining,” you teased, motioning for him to follow Marco. “You’ll thank him when you’re not limping tomorrow.”

“We begin easy,” he said, demonstrating a forward bend. “Touch your toes, Charles. Keep your legs straight.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered, glancing at Marco, who was effortlessly folding himself in half.

“Come on, Charlie. You can’t lose to a guy twenty years older than you.” You chuckled from the sidelines, standing near Antoine, who was filming the entire thing.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” Charles quipped, finally managing to graze his toes. “I see you’re enjoying this too much.”

“I am.” You admitted, voice light with laughter.

Next were lunges, which Charles did with ease, his form surprisingly precise. “Now these, I can handle. We do this in the gym all the time.”

“Good. Now arm extensions, long and controlled. Think of reaching for the target.” Charles mirrored Marco’s movements, extending his arms fluidly.

You couldn’t resist teasing, “not bad, Charles. Maybe you’re a natural after all.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, smirking. “See? I’ve got this.”

“Next is jumping jacks,” Marco interrupted, clearly amused by your banter.

Charles transitioned smoothly into the exercise, his movements energetic and practiced. As he worked through the routine, Charles suddenly turned to you, his tone curious.

“Why don’t we ever train together? Seems like it could be fun.” Charles glanced at you.

“Because you’d complain the whole time.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Hey, I don’t complain that much.” He argued, clearly offended.

You just laughed at him, waving a hand dismissively. “Fencing is my thing, Charlie. I need to focus when I’m training, it’s not all fun and games.”

“And today isn’t serious?” Charles raised a brow, pausing mid-jumping jack.

“Not really,” you admitted with a shrug. “Today’s more about proving to you that fencing isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, clearly amused. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

“Charles,” Marco interjected, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your sister has a gold medal, she might surprise you.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said sincerely, before his grin returned. “But I’m still confident I can keep up.”

“That’s the spirit!” You smiled.

”The floor is yours, campionessa.” Marco smiled as he stepped back, and gestured for you to take over.

“Alright,” you turned to Charles. “Let’s start with the basics. This is going to be your crash course in fencing, everything you need to know before you touch the blade.”

Antoine, still filming, zoomed in on Charles’ face as he nodded, looking serious. “I’m ready, let’s hear it.”

“Fencing is one of the oldest sports in the world. It dates back centuries, originally used in dueling and combat training, but over time, it became more of a sport.” You explained. “In fact, fencing has been part of the Olympics since the very first modern games in 1896.”

“1896?” Charles repeated, very intrigued. “So, it’s been around forever.”

“Pretty much,” you confirmed with a smile. “Since then, it’s evolved into three distinct disciplines—foil, sabre, and epee. Each had different rules, strategies, and weapons. That’s what makes fencing so fascinating, you’re not just swinging a sword around. It’s a mind game as much as a physical one, that’s why some call it physical chess.”

Charles tilted his head, clearly interested. “What’s the difference between the three?”

“Come on, let me show you guys.” You walked over to a nearby rack, where several swords were neatly displayed, each one gleaming under the salle’s lights.

“This is a foil.” You picked up a foil, you held it up for him and the viewers to see. “It is the lightest of the three weapons, weighing about 500 grams, and the one I use. Foil fencing focuses on precision and technique, the target area is only the torso, and points are scored with the tip of the blade.”

Charles reached out, and you handed him the foil. He tested the weight of the blade, lifting and lowering it.

“It’s lighter than I thought.” He admitted, giving it a small swing.

“Foils are meant for agility and speed,” you explained. You then picked up a sabre, slightly heavier with a distinct curved guard. “This is a sabre. It’s a bit heavier, and the rules are very different. In sabre, you can score with the edge of the blade, not just the tip, and target area is the upper body—above the waist, including arms and head.”

“Sounds aggressive,” Charles remarked, running his hand along the blade’s flat edge.

“Oh, it is,” you chuckled. “Sabre is all about speed and attack. It’s fast-paced, almost like a sprint compared to foil’s more calculated, chess-like style.”

“And the last one?” Charles asked, pointing to the remaining weapon.

“This is the epee,” you said as you picked up the epee, handing it to him. “It’s the heaviest of the three, about 775 grams, and the target area is the entire body, head to toe. But in epee, there’s no right of way, whoever hits first, scores.”

Charles tested the epee in his grip, nodding thoughtfully. “So it’s more…straightforward?”

“In a way, yes,” you said, setting the sabre and foil back on the rack. “But it can also lead to longer matches since there’s no restriction on who can attack when, you need all the patience you can get when playing epee.”

The camera panned as you gestured for Charles to follow you back to the piste. “Now, let’s talk about the rules. In foil, which is what we’ll be learning today, the target area is just the torso. No arms, legs, and head. If you hit anywhere else, it doesn’t count.”

“Got it,” Charles said. “What about the scoring?”

“In foil, we use something called right of way. It means that the fencer who initiates the attack has priority. If the other fencer wants to score, they have to defend or parry first, and then counterattack.”

You picked up a foil and demonstrated, lunging forward in a quick, fluid motion. “For example, if I attack you like this, you can’t just hit me back. You’d need to block my blade first.”

“So, it’s not just about being faster, it’s about timing.” Charles frowned slightly, absorbing the information.

“Yup,” you said, impressed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent’s moves. Now, there are also some practical rules. The piste, the one we are standing on right now, is 14 meters long and 1.5 to 2 meters wide. If you step off, you lose ground or even a point, and you can’t use your off-hand to block, and obviously, no overly aggressive moves like charging into your opponent.”

Charles raised a brow. “No tackling allowed? Shame.”

“Not unless you want to get a penalty.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Lastly, to win a match, you have to reach a predetermined number of points, usually 15, or have the highest score by the end of the time limit.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a quick demonstration of how right of way works in a tournament.” You gestured for Marco to join you, and he grabbed another foil, stepping into position, as Antoine adjusted his camera as you stepped back onto the piste.

“Watch closely,” you instructed as you and Marco faced off. “Marco will attack, and I’ll defend and counter.”

Marco lunged forward with a smooth attack, and you parried, your blades clashing with a satisfying ring before you swiftly riposted, your blade landing lightly on his torso.

Turning to Charles, you explained. “Since I defended first and then countered, I get the point. Make sense?”

Charles nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. “So, if I just swing wildly, it’s useless unless I have priority.”

“Yes,” you said smiling. “Fencing isn’t about brute force, it’s about control, precision, and strategy.”

“This all felt like a masterclass,” Charles chuckled. “This is very incredible stuff.”

Once Charles had a solid grasp of the basic rules and ths purpose of fencing, you decided it was time to get into the technical aspects.

“Alrighty,” you began, pacing in front of him, foil in hand. “Before you can start attacking, you need to learn how to defend yourself. So, let’s talk about parrying.”

“There are four primary parries in fencing, and each one is important for blocking and setting yourself up for a counterattack.” You added.

Charles nodded, gripping the foil in his hand as if ready to jump in. “Alright, I’m listening. Hit me with it.”

“Not literally,” you teased, pointing your foil at him briefly before continuing. “First is parry four. This is your standard parry, used to block attacks aimed at your torso. You bring the blade across your body like this.”

You demonstrated, twisting your wrist and angling your blade so that the imaginary opponent’s strike would be deflected away. Charles mimicked the movement, though his hand was stiff, and his blade angle slightly off.

You leaned in, using the tip of your foil to adjust his blade position. “Loosen your wrist a bit, it’s all about control, not brute strength. The goal is to guide their blade away, not smack it out of their hands.”

“Okay, okay. Got it.” Charles said, trying again. This time, his movement was smoother.

“Better,” you said, stepping back. “Next is parry six. The one is similar to parry four, but instead of protecting the inside of your body, it covers the outside. Like this.” You executed the parry with ease, your blade moving in a fluid arc.

Charles tried to copy the movement, his blade wobbling slightly as he adjusted his wrist.

“Close,” you said, stepping closer. “But watch your wrist, it needs to stay firm, or you’ll lose control of your blade.” You tapped the back of his hand with your foil, and he adjusted accordingly.

“Parry eight is for low attacks to the outside of your body.” You continued, moving on, and crouching slightly, angling your blade downward to demonstrate. “This one is a little tricky because it requires good reflexes. You’re aiming to protect your lower torso and legs.” Charles gave it a go, though his stance was a bit too wide.

“Too much space,” you said, tapping his knee lightly with your blade. “Keep your movements controlled. The smaller the motion, the quicker you can recover.”

“This is harder than it looks.” Charles exhaled, looking at the camera as he adjusted his stance.

“That’s fencing for you,” you said with a grin. “Last one, parry seven. This one is similar to parry eight, but it protects the inside of your body instead of the ourside.”

You demonstrated the motion, and Charles followed suit, this time managing a relatively smooth movement.

“Good,” you said, stepping back. “Now, key things to remember when parrying—keep your blade pointed at your opponent at all times. It’s not just about blocking, it’s about setting yourself up for a counterattack. As soon as you’ve parried, you need to riposte, counterattack, immediately. If you wait too long, you’ll lose your advantage.”

Marco stepped forward, foil in hand, and you turned to Charles. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You squared off with Marco, and as he lunged forward with a mock attack, you parried effortlessly, your blade gliding against his and redirecting it away. In the same motion, you extended your arm, blade tip landing lightly on Marco’s torso.

“See how quick that was?” You said, turning to Charles. “It’s a fluid motion—parry and riposte, all in one go. No wasted movements.”

Charles nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright, let me try.”

You stepped aside, letting Marco face Charles. As Marco slowly lunged, Charles attempted a parry, though his movement was slightly delayed, and his riposte lacked precision.

“Not bad,” you said encouragingly. “But don’t overthink it. The more natural it feels, the faster you’ll be.”

“Okay, let’s talk about stance,” you said, planting your feet firmly on the piste. “Your stance is your foundation, if it’s wrong, everything else falls apart.”

You demonstrated, keeping your feet shoulder-width apart, one foot pointing forward and the other at a slight angle.

“Your dominant hand is the one holding the foil. The non-dominant hand stays behind you, raised slightly for balance. So, which hand are you using?” You asked.

“Right.” Charles said, switching the foil to his dominant hand.

“Good,” you said. “Now, copy my stance.”

Charles mirrored your position, though his back foot was slightly out of place.

“Close, but—” you tapoed his leg lightly with your foil. “Your back foot needs to be at an angle, like this. Don’t forget to bend your knees slightly. You need to stay low for balance and quick movement.”

“Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly when Charles adjusted his stance. “Now let’s work on movement. When you’re in your stance, you need to be able to move forward, backward, and side-to-side quickly withou losing your balance.”

You demonstrated, gliding forward and backward with small, controlled steps. “Notice how my feet stay the same distance apart, no matter where I go. That keeps me balanced and ready to attack or defend.”

Charles followed your lead, though his movements were a bit stiff.

“Relax,” you said, smiling. “You’re not marching in the military. It’s more like a dance, fluid and controlled.” He tried again, this time loosening up slightly.

“Better,” you said. “Now let’s add a lunge, the lunge is your main attacking move. From your stance, you push off your back leg and extend your front leg forward, like this.” You demonstrated, your movement smooth and precise. Charles attempted the motion, but his lunge was too short.

“Bigger step,” you said, tapping his front leg with your foil. “You want fo cover as much ground as possjble without overextending.” After a few tries, he managed a decent lunge.

“Not bad,” you said, stepping back. “You’re getting there. Now, let’s put it all together—stance, movement, parries, and lunges. You ready?”

Charles grinned, gripping his foil. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright,” you said, picking up the body cord, “before we start, we need to get you all hooked up.”

Charles tilted his head, examining the cord. “What’s that for?”

“This is a body cord,” you explained, stepping closer to attach it to his fencing jacket. “It connects your weapon to the scoring system. When you land a valid touch, the electrical circuit completes, and the scoreboard registers the point.”

“So no sneaky hits?” He joked, watching closely as you secured it to his back and guided it through the sleeves of his jacket to attach to the foil.

“Not unless you want the referee to see it light up,” you quipped, making sure everything was in place before handing him a fencing mask. “Here, put this on.”

“For this first round, we’re keeping it simple, call it a trial run,” you said, rolling your shoulders and flexing your foil. “Marco will referee and keep things light. Just focus on getting comfortable.”

“Got it. Don’t go easy on me, though.” Charles raised his foil slightly, his excitement evident in his stance.

You laughed. “Trut me, Charles, I won’t.”

Marco stepped onto the side of the piste, holding a referee’s clicked in one hand. “Alright, trial run. I’ll call the touches. En garde!”

You and Charles took your positions at opposite ends of the piste, foils raised in salite before dropping into the en garde stance.

“Prêt? Allez!” Marco called, signaling the start of the bout.

Charles moved hesitant at first, testing his footing as he advanced. You let him come forward, observing his movements.

“Don’t forget your stance,” you reminded him, stepping back slightly. “Stay balanced.”

He nodded, adjusting his feet, and made a tentative lunge. Charles’ foil grazed your blade, missing the target area entirely.

“Close,” you said, countering with a light touch to his torso. Marco raised his hand. “Touch!”

Charles shook his head, laughing. “Okay, that was fast. Was that even one second?”

“Welcome to fencing,” you said with a grin. “It’s all about timing. Relax, though you’re doing fine.”

As the trial run continued, Charles began finding his rhythm. He landed his first touch on your shoulder, earing a quick ‘touch!’ from Marco.

“How does it feel?” You asked, stepping back for a brief pause.

Charles grinned under his mask. “Not bad! Are you nervous yet?”

“Me? Nervous?” You teased. “Cute. Let’s see how you handle the next round round.”

The second round began, and Charles was much more deliberate in his movements. He used the parries you had taught him, successfully blocking two of your attacks and landing another touch on your shoulder.

“Not bad, Lord Perceval,” you said, nodding as you reset your stance. “You’re learning quickly.”

“Of course,” he replied, his voice light with mock arrogance. “I’m a Leclerc. We adapt fast.”

By the end of the round, Marco called for a pause. “Alright, let’s use the scoreboard for the next one.”

“See this?” Marco said, pointing to the display. “Every valid touch will light up here with a beep. First to fifteen points wins.”

Charles noticed the screen, which displayed yor names, complete with small Monaco flags next to them.

“Wait, you personalized it?” He asked, laughing. “Now I feel like I’m in the Olympics.”

“Of course,” you said with a grin. “Nothing but the best for my big brother.”

Charles chuckled, lifting his foil again. As you adjusted your own, you bent the blade slightly, an action that caught his attention.

“Why are you doing that?” He asked.

“It’s something all fencers do,” you explained, holding the blade up for him to see. “Foils are flexible, and bending them ensures they’re in good condition and won’t snap. It also helps make the touches more accurate and less painful.”

“Huh,” Charles said, mimicking the motion with his own foil. “Interesting.”

“Alright, this is it,” you said, lowering your mask. “First to fifteen.”

Marco raised his hand. “En garde! Prêt? Allez!”

The boug began, and Charles quickly demonstrated his growing confidence. He moved fluidly, landing a few clean touches on your torso and arm. You could see his competitiveness kicking in, and you responded with sharper attacks, forcing him to parry and riposte.

Halfway through, the score was tied at 7-7, and the beeping sound of the scoreboard filled the room with each touch.

“You’re doing great.” You said during a brief pause.

“Thanks,” Charles replied, panting slightly. “But I’m not letting you win.”

“Good,” you said, resetting your stance. “Because I’m not letting you win, either.”

The intensity ramped up in the final stretch. Charles managed to land three more touches, bringing his total to ten, but you quickly countered with a series of precise attacks, pushing your score to fifteen.

Marco raised his hand as the final beep sounded. “Touché! Match for her—15 to 10!”

“Lifting your mask, you grinned at Charles, who pulled off his own mask, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was incredible,” he said, still catching his breath. “I actually thought I had you for a moment there.”

“Well fought, champ! Ten points is impressive for a first timer, you did really great.” You said, resting your foil on your shoulder. “But I told you, fencing isn’t easy as it looks.”

Charles laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yeah, no kidding. I think I’ll stick to racing.”

Marco, who had been observing with a smile, stepped in. “You were actually good for a beginner. You’re a fast learner, Charles. I’ve work with a lot of first-timers, and not many can pick up that quickly.”

“That’s true,” you chimed in nodding. “You were way better than I expected. Usually, people take ages to figure out how to lunge properly or keep their stance balanced.”

Charles’ grin widened. “Well, what can I say? It’s in my blood to be competitive.”

Marco laughed, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “You should come by more often during her trainings. You’d make a good parry partner.”

“Oh stop feeding his ego,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s already huge.”

Charles gave a mock bow. “Keep it coming, Marco. I’m soaking it all in.”

Marco just smiled as the camera zoomed in on you both as he continued. “Not, really, Charles. If you’re free diring off-season, you should consider it. You’d give her a good challenge, and it would keep her on her toes.”

“Hmm…” Charles leaned on his foil again, pretending to consider the offer. “Fencing during off-season. I might actually think about that.”

You laughed. “Sure, if you can handle beaten every time.”

“Bold words. But we’ll see.” Charles grinned. “So, what’s next for you? You’ve already won the Olympics. Where do you go from here?”

“Next up is the Fencing World Cup. It’s coming up in a few months, so I’m focused on preparing for that.” You smiled, feeling the excitement bubbling inside of you.

Charles nodded. “If people want fo follow your journey, where can they find you?”

“Everywhere.” You said with a laugh, then added, “but seriously, you guys can follow me on my social media. If you are curious about up coming tournaments, you can check out Team Monaco’s offical instagram. They post all of the updates there.”

Charles turned to the camera. “There you have it, guys.” He then faced you and Marco. “I just want to say thank you, for real. I know your schedules are crazy, and you took time to teach me something completely out of my comfort zone. I really had fun.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, Charles.” Marco smiled warmly. “You’re a natural. Who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be on the piste at a tournament.”

Charles laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You did great today,” you grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll see you fencing for Monaco one day.”

Charles smiled. “Only if you promise not to embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“No promises.” You teased.

Marco gestured toward the camera. “Alright, shall we wrap this up?”

You, Charles, and Marco all faced the lens. “Thanks for watching!” You said with a wave. “Remember, fencing is cooler than you think.”

“And harder than it looks!” Charles added. “Thank you both for taking the time to teach me, I had a blast today. It’s always fun learning new things.”

“Of course, Charlie!” You replied warmly. “We’ll be waiting for your next fencing session.”

“You’re always welcome, Charles.” Marco smiled. “Just don’t take too long to return, alright? We might have to recruit you into the team at this rate!”

All of you laughed as you said your goodbyes, and with that, the video came to a close, screen fading into black.

twitter posts

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilyzneimer, landonorris, lilymhe and 88,746 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, gaiusthecaracal

yn.jpg just a regular day at the office (bonus: taught charles fencing, see slide 4! 😁)

view all 10,837 comments

username8 never knew i needed to see charles in a fencing gear up until now 😮‍💨 THANK YOU MOTHER!

landonorris can’t believe you taught charles first, i thought i was gonna be the first one 😞💔

yn.jpg sorry, big brother privileges 😔✊🏻

charles_leclerc what she said! 😁❤️

landonorris i see that you have taken my advice

yn.jpg yes, and i owe it all to you sir 🫡

landonorris when will u be our quadrant athlete 😔🤲🏻

yn.jpg idk bro, what do they do? 🤨

yn.jpg just hit up my personal coach 😁

landonorris ME NEXT PLS

yn.jpg THERE ARE A LOT OF YOU WANTING ME TO TEACH YOU ALL FENCING 😭😭😭

lilymhe I ASKED HER FIRST! FALL IN LINE!!

landonorris IM HER BEST FRIEND

landonorris BESTIE PRIVILEGES

yourbestfriend EXCUSE ME????

landonorris EXCUSED

username9 WE FINALLY GOT A JPG ACCOUNT??? ACTIVE ERA IS UPON US?????

yn.jpg u guys really gotta thank lando for convincing me on making one bc apparently according to him, i always “ghost” you all 😞💔

username9 OHMGYGOSD I LOVE YOU 😭

username10 GAIUS 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username11 CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING 😭😭😭

username12 petition for you to have a yt acc or tiktok or smth 😔😔😔😔

username13 and then what? we all ended up being ghosted 😔😔😔😔

username13 she barely posts on instagram, and now that she has a jpg account, i’ll take what i can get tl have some y/n content 😔😔😔💔💔💔

username12 omg u right 😭😭😭

username14 ok, scuderiaferrari, just hear me out this once…what if y/n teaches charlos fencing on a tiktok or yt vid? huh huh huh, wouldn’t that be a great idea, right? 😁

scuderiaferrari hmmm, i think you might be onto something 🤔🤔🤔

username15 i will sacrifice my first born for this to happen 🤲🏻

username16 we are BEGGING, on our knees

username17 charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me. charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me 🛐

[xxblairexxss]

Ice cream date

Theme : Fluff

Thank you so much for your request, anon! 🩷🫶🏻 A short break from angst before I start writing for another angst request! I loveeeee writing for dad!charles soo adorable! 🥹

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“Charles?” You tilted your head to your side once your husband picked up the call.

“Yes, honey?”

You looked back facing your nail lady and pointed at the pastel lavender colour before bringing your phone back to your ear. “Can you pick up your little daughter from the daycare today? I don’t think my nail appointment would end in 15 minutes.”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about her. Enjoy your day out with your friends, okay?Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, honey! I love you!” You ended the call and went back picking different charms for your new nails.

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“Dada!”

“Hey, baby! I missed you.” Charles crouched down and picked up his baby girl into his arms and nodded as an act of acknowledgement and gratitude to the daycare worker as he turned away to make their way to the car.

“Sir, may I have a word with you?” He turned back and raised his brow in question to the sudden interference.

“Yeah? Yeah, sure. Is there anything wrong?”

Charles was told how his little girl was caught scribbled on her classmate’s notebook using her crayons. The notebook was actually used for kids and tutors for daily activities which required paper and pencils. Not only did his little girl scribbled on her classmate’s notebook, she also shred a few pages.

“We left the children a few minutes and came back to see the other student crying. And this is what she did.” She handed him the proof of crime and Charles was astounded. He had to continuously apologise on behalf of his daughter while Y/D/N kept on hugging his neck and giggling in his arms, completely oblivious to the informal parent-teacher meeting.

“Dada, I want choco this time!” She squealed in her car seat, elated for her daddy and daughter ice-cream date which had become a ritual every time Charles picked her up.

“No ice cream this time, baby.”

“Eh? Why? But, dada, I want ice-cream!” She stopped clapping her hands and caught Charles’s gaze on her through the rear view mirror.

“You were not a good girl today so you don’t get ice cream. We are going home and there’ll be no movie night for you too.” Charles saw she jutted her bottom lips out and whimpered.

“Did you say sorry to your friend?” Charles looked back into the rearview mirror and saw she was wiping her tears off with her arms. “Baby, dada’s asking you. Did you say sorry?”

She didn’t reply as she kept on sobbing but she actually nodded to his question but Charles didn’t catch that so he thought she was ignoring him.

“No cartoon after this and go straight to your room. I’m telling mommy what you did today and she will scold you even more.” He had always been very gentle with her before she was even born. He never had a sister nor any girls from his family members. When you told him you were pregnant with a girl, you knew right away he would make her the centre of his world.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

When you came home, Charles was in the bathroom while your daughter was nowhere to be seen. You usually would always came home with your husband and daughter cuddling on the couch watching Disney movies.

“Baby?” You had found her in her room with puffy eyes. Sitting on her little bed, you brushed her hair away from her face and she hugged your middle. “Who made you cry?” You cupped on her chubby cheeks and softly rubbed your thumbs across her cheekbone, wiping the freshly tears away.

“Dada hates me…”

“Who said that? He loves you so much, baby.”

She ended up telling you everything that happened, which made her cry again and you had to continuously wiped her tears and told her it was fine. You had learnt that she was upset because she was looking forward to her little ice cream date and was turned down by her dad without being told why. She was upset because she had never seen her daddy being so mad at her and she didn’t understand why.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“I missed you.”

You were making dinner when Charles hugged you from behind and you could smell the scent of lavender from his shower gel when he dropped trail of kisses on your neck.

“Did you get into a fight with your other girlfriend?”

“What?” He broke the hug and went to your side, leaning against the kitchen counter with a frown. “Did she complain to you? Honey, she ruined her classmate’s notebook. How can I not ground her.” He stole a slice of mango that you were cutting and you slapped his hand away.

“Did you actually ask her what happened?” You raised your brows when he looked dubious to the questions.

“Did she tell you what actually happened?”

“Yeah, she did. And I think you are in trouble this time, honey.” You took a slice of mango and put it in your mouth, chewing it while looking very thrilled meanwhile your husband looked like he was going through every single possibilities in his head.

“Oh! Hi baby! Are you hungry?” You exclaimed when your little girl approached your little time with your husband with her fluffy friend, Mr. Boo.

“Baby, do you want to set the table with dada? Like always?” He crouched down and stretched his arms, expecting her little girl to come running as she usually did but she didn’t. She went to your side instead and hugged your leg, struggling a little when Mr. Boo almost slipped off her little arms.

“Oh, shit.”

“Language, Charles!” You glowered at him. “Baby, let daddy set the table alone while you helped me stir the soup, alright?” You picked her up as she shrieked with laughter, leaving a peck on your cheek and tried to grasped on the ladle, completely ignoring your husband.

“Can I get a kiss too, baby?” Charles went to her side and leaned in to kiss but she quickly turned her head away, hiding her face in your neck. “Honey, help me here.”

“Don’t involve me.”

Charles didn’t get a kiss and he stopped asking when your daughter got into a fit crying as she got annoyed from the constant bugging. When she walked to the dining table, Charles pulled the chair by his side, as she usually wanted to sit by her daddy but this time, she went straight to your side. You had to hold your laugh seeing your husband looked defeated with the constant ignoring game.

“Baby, say ah!” He cut the steak into a smaller piece and stretched out his arm that was holding the fork to feed his little girl but she shook her head without looking at him.

“No thank, dada.”

“Wow, I just got rejected over and over. Honey, can you–“ You shook your head without letting him to finish his questions.

“I can’t help you, Charles. Serve you right.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You had left your little girl alone in the living room while she got busy munching on her animal shaped biscuits as you went to the kitchen to hug your husband from the back while he was washing the dishes, your head leaned against his body.

“Did she make you upset, honey?”

You heard him heaved a sigh which made you chuckle. “You are so silly. Just go and apologise, she’ll be fine.”

“Flirting you was way easier. Ouch!” He winced when you slapped him on his back. “Honey, she’s 2! Where did learn how to sulk like a literal teenage girl?”

“She probably learned it from me.” You leaned away when he turned his body around as he properly engulfed you back in his arms.

“Why did you teach her these bad things. Where is she, anyway?” Charles slanted forward to try to look for Y/D/N and you pulled his face closer to peck on his cheek.

“She’s eating her snacks. Go and talk to her, baby. I don’t think she’s still cranky.”

“Wish me luck.” He tilted your chin and brushed his lips on yours, patting your bum as he left the kitchen.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Hi, baby. Can I get one?”

Her small hand was in a fist, full from grabbing the biscuits along with her little chubby cheeks. When Charles took a seat by her side and asked for one, she was contemplating, her other hand opening and closing as she looked on her little plate back to her dad. Once she came to a decision, she took two pieces of the biscuits and handed it to him.

“Can you feed daddy instead?”

She lifted up her hand and put the biscuits into his mouth, giggling when Charles tried to chomp on her hands.

“Are you still mad at daddy?”

“Not much. A little bit, I think. Is dada still mad at me?” She pinched her chubby fingers together and scrunched her nose while answering the question.

“Daddy’s not mad at you, baby. I’m sorry, okay? Can you forgive me?” He swept off the crumbs on her cheeks with his hand as she put another biscuits into her mouth.

“My friend ruined my book first, dada.” She wept the back of her hand against her cheeks and Charles immediately leaned in to stole a peck on her cheek. She looked like a little chipmunk, he couldn’t not kiss those little face.

“What else did your friend did, baby?”

“She threw my book away and I was upset so I did bad things back to her. But I said sorry to her.” Charles’s heart was swollen with guilt when he saw her little pout.

“Next time, don’t do that to others. Just let daddy knows if someone’s being mean to you, okay? Are we good now, baby?”

“I think so.” She wiped off her hands once she was done eating and grinned. “I finished!”

“Can daddy get a hug?” She pushed her little chair back to move closer to her dad and wrapped her arms around his neck. Charles stood up with her in his arms and began attacking her face with kisses, making her laughed.

“Oh? You guys are back to best friends now, I see.”

“Mama!” She ducked down and pecked on your cheek as Charles pulled you closer by his freehand.

“You got crumbs all over your face, darling. Did daddy say sorry already?” You brushed off the leftover crumbs on her face and fixed her bangs.

“Yeah, dada said sorry to me.”

“Dada owe you an ice cream date, right, baby?” You poked on his waist, causing him to twitch.

“I want chocolate ice cream!” She squealed with exhilaration, causing both you and Charles to chortle.

“Can mommy come too?”

Charles shook his head immediately and turned your daughter away. “Mommy can’t come. It’s only for us, right?”

“That’s mean!” You scowled and slapped on his arm.

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @aundercover

please let me know if you would like to be removed or added in the tag list!

[milla984]

With Neighbors Like These

Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)

Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present

Word Count: 2k

The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.

Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different. 

The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.

He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”  

You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.

“Feeling lonely, already?” 

“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”

“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.

He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.

Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing. 

“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.

“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed. 

“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”

“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?” 

“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.

“... so you’re a bad influence.”

The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly. 

You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”

His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.

“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.

You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”

Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs. 

Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again. 

“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”

Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.

He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear. 

“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.

You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.

“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit. 

“Are you trying to make me lose control?”

You nodded in confirmation and he growled. 

He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.

“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance. 

“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”    

His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”

You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff. 

He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open. 

“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.

“Better?!”   

He whined again. “Not exactly.”

You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”

The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.

It was torture but he was damn good at it.

When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.

Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood. 

He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.

When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.

With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.

“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs. 

“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”

He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”

“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.

“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”

He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”

You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile. 

“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”

NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.

[natashaslesbian]

For You

Summary: You’ve been going through a rough patch with your moms for a while, after a big argument you finally tell them how you feel.

Word Count: 1.2k

Parings: (Wandanat x Daughter!Reader)

Warnings: none I believe :)

————

The walls shook as you slammed your bedroom door shut, the tell tale sign of another fight with your moms. Most teenagers have arguments with their parents, who usually have high expectations of them. But being the daughter of the Black Widow and the Scarlett Witch meant that your expectations were set much higher. Growing up your moms were your best friends, you spent every second with them, it was the three of you against the world. You had a magical childhood and all your school friends were jealous of your home life, however after your 13th birthday Natasha and Wanda decided that it was time for you to start training alongside Peter. It was nothing extreme, a few hours a week in the gym and some basic self defence. As Peter progressed you soon fell behind, not only disappointing your teammates but also your mothers.

You let out a sigh as you slumped down onto your bed, rolling over to face the wall incase of any unwelcome visitors. You replayed the row in your head, Natasha’s words loud and clear in your mind. “Why can’t you be more like Peter, he’s doing so well, he puts so much work into his training, he’s not lazy like you!” She had shouted across the room. That was your final straw. If only they knew the effort you held within you, they just didn’t care about it as it had nothing to do with being an avenger. As a kid you loved to draw and paint, and as you got older it became a favourite hobby. At first your moms would take your cute little drawings and put them around the compound to be admired but as they transitioned back into work and long missions they didn’t really have the time to appreciate your art anymore and very quickly they forgot about your favourite activity.

A knock at the door arrived as another tear slipped down your cheek. “Go away” you huffed. Shortly after came a gentle click of your door. “Who said you could come in?” You asked. Your mom didn’t say anything just yet, she simply walked over to your bed and took a seat next to you. “Y/n” Wanda said “I- I’m sorry. I hate when we fight kiddo” she said as she reached for your hair. “Mama started it” you replied as you pushed away her touch. “Baby mama didn’t mean what she said. We had words after you left and she knows she was wrong, she’s gone for a walk to calm down” your mom said as she shuffled closer. “And I know that I was wrong too” she said, causing you to look up at her. “I shouldn’t have shouted like I did” Wanda said with a hint of guilt in her eyes. Your mom never usually shouted at you, she was normally the calm one although still echoing everything your mama was saying.

Wanda’s vulnerability made you think for a moment. You had always hidden how you truly felt, putting on a tough act so you didn’t disappoint your moms even further. When Wanda had come to see you, you were prepared for round two with her. But the delicacy she had entered the room with caused something in you to shift. “Why am I not good enough for you and mama?” You cried out, the sight breaking Wanda’s heart. “Baby don’t say that!” Your mom cooed as she pulled you up into her embrace “you are good enough for us darling” she said. “You just want me to be like Peter” you sobbed “you’d rather him be your kid” you tried to push away from Wanda’s hold, but she tightened her grip around you, “we don’t think that y/n” she said. “I know I’m not as good as him at combat and weapons and stuff but I am good at other things! Why can’t you see that? I’m trying so hard to make you proud of me but nothing I ever do is good enough!” You cried.

Without realising, a second pair of arms had been wrapped around you, a steady hand was trailing through your hair. “Mama?” You mumbled as you looked up to see her green eyes. “I’m never gonna be good enough for you am I?” You said as you melted into her arms. Natasha had been stood outside your room for a few minuets listing to yours and Wanda’s conversation. She felt so guilty when she heard what you said and came running to your side, crying along with you. “Oh my little spider, look at me” Nat said as she cupped your cheeks, bringing your gaze towards her. “I promise you’re enough baby girl, I’m so sorry I made you feel like you weren’t. Your mom and I are so proud of you but we’ve been blinded by our own want for you to become an agent. But it’s not what you want is it?” She asked. You looked at her confused for a moment, finally starting to calm down again. “Your artwork” Natasha whispered.

“Mama you remembered?” You asked. “Of course we did sweetie” Natasha said “baby you’re a fantastic little artist we loved when you used to bring us all your drawings” Wanda said as she brushed your hair back from your face. “But I thought you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted me to focus on being an avenger” you cried “you never had any time for me” you mumbled as you laid in your moms arms. “You’re right baby girl and mama and I are so sorry” Wanda said as she kissed your forehead. “Y/n being an agent and an anger is all your mom and I have ever known” Natasha said “we’ve not put being mothers first and we know that now. We thought we were putting you first by pushing you into training but we weren’t and we are so sorry” she finished. You sat up so both your moms could see you, you took a deep breath as you prepared to tell them the truth “mom, mama” you whispered “I don’t wanna be an avenger” you cried out “I’m sorry” your moms both scooped you up immediately, both now crying with you.

“We know that now sweetie” Wanda calmly said “you don’t have to be sorry” she said. “I don’t wanna disappoint you” you mumbled as you wiped your nose “dekta you could never disappoint us” Natasha said “this is your life and you’re old enough now to decide how you want to live it, all we want is for you to be happy” your mama said. It was like a breath of fresh air had hit your bedroom, everything you had wanted to say was finally out in the open. “I think I know what I wanna do” you said looking up at your moms “what is it darling?” Wanda asked “after I finish school, I wanna go to college, to study art. Is that ok?” You sheepishly asked. “Oh y/n of course it is” Natasha said “it might be expensive though” you frowned “well that’s what uncle Tony is for” Your mama giggled “and besides we’ve got some money put away from you, it’s plenty enough to get you where you need to be” Wanda said “really?” You asked, trying hard to hide your excitement. “Really baby” Natasha said “whatever you need, we’ll sort, we’re your moms and that’s our job” Wanda said as she ran her hand under your chin. “I love you mom” you said to Wanda “I love you mama” you said to Natasha.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

HBCU CONFESSIONS.

Part Two

The Great Conversation: A Historical Introduction to Philosophy sat on a circular table within the study hall of the dorm building. Erik was dressed down in a red graphic hoodie that read Lost Tribe in black letters with the map of Africa on the back. He paired it with grey joggers and Jordan retro 11’s. He checked his I-watch for the fifth time. It was going on 5:20 pm and Valencia hadn’t shown up yet. Erik wished he’d gotten her number.

Two minutes later, Valencia came rushing over, carrying her books in the crook of her arm and a flustered expression on her face. Erik sat up straighter in his seat and his eyes couldn’t help but scan her body. She was still wearing the same curve-hugging dress she’d worn earlier that day. Her braids were now up in a ponytail with a few hanging in front of her face.

She sat her bag down beside the table and before she could even pull out her own seat, Erik was behind her in a flash. Valencia’s back stiffened and she gasped. Erik gripped the back of the chair and slid it out across the carpet. Valencia couldn’t help but notice how Erik towered over her. He was standing at 6’3. She looked up at him with a faint smile and bashful eyes.

“Thank you, Erik.” She says with a light voice.

“You’re welcome.”

They each took their respective seats. Valencia opened her bag to retrieve her book and her notes. Erik waited patiently, staring at her with a slight, dimpled smirk.

“I’m so sorry, I’m all over the place.”

“No worries, Valencia.”

She finally had everything in order. Valencia exhaled and sat her palms down on the table to calm herself. She giggled and Erik couldn’t help but to laugh himself.

“I’m not always late, you know.” Valencia said to her defense.

“Can’t always expect to be on time every single time.” Erik replied with a smirk.

“I knowww,” Valencia tucked a braid behind her ear, “But you’re a TA. This isn’t a great first impression.”

Erik folded his arms against the table and leaned in. He quirked a brow up at Valencia, staring her down through his gold-rimmed glasses.

“You have a point,” Erik swiped the bottom of his lip with his tongue, “Prove to me that you know your shit, and I won’t hold it against you.”

Valencia turned away because she couldn’t stare him in the eyes.

“You have a deal,” her eyes darted towards his face then down towards her lap.

Erik’s eyes burned with mischief. He loved that she was shy and he wanted to push her limits. See how far Miss Valencia could go.

“Aight, let’s get started.”

Erik opened his textbook.

“Where exactly are you in class?” Erik asked.

“Free will,” Valencia sorted out her notes, “Yes, Free will.”

“Okay…”

Erik combed through the textbook until he found where he needed to be.

“What do Philosophers believe about free will?”

“Uhm—”

“Don’t look at your notes, tell me.”

Valencia was startled by Erik’s command. She cleared her throat and started playing in her hair.

“Uh—well I know that it’s a requirement for agency, rationality, creativity…”

“Okay, that’s good. So, as far as accounts of Free Will, what exactly is the Faculties Model of Will?”

Erik glanced over at Valencia. She was pondering his question.

“…It’s the dominant view of the will for much of medieval and modern philosophy…their possession of certain powers or capacities…”

“Very good. They also possess the capacities for intellection and volition. Another way of saying this is that free agents alone have the faculties of intellect and will.”

Valencia clicked her pin and scribbled down what Erik said like a good pupil. Erik continued to throw questions and topics at her, challenging Valencia. It was the way he did it that helped her retain the information.

“I’m so used to just…reading from my notes over and over.” Valencia said.

“It’s the active recall. Don’t get me wrong, using notecards is okay, but all that time you spend creating fifty cards, you can use this study technique by asking questions about the subject you want to learn after reading the subject, which will help you retrieve information deeper. You want it to go deeper, right?”

Valencia stared at Erik with a dazed look.

“Valencia? Did you hear me?”

“Ye–Yes—”

“I said, deeper, right?”

Valencia chewed on her bottom lip. Erik wanted to chew on it himself…

“I do. I want to remember the information better. The method helps me out a lot.”

Erik smiles at Valencia and she glanced up at the ceiling with a blush. He couldn’t visibly see the heat creeping up her face, but her cheekbones and half-smile was enough to tell. They went on to cover one last topic, Epistemology. After another thirty minutes, their study session was complete.

“You got it, just a little more practice and you’ll be set.” Erik encouraged.

“I hope so. How did you get so good at everything?”

Erik laughed, “Everything?”

Valencia giggled into her hand. She couldn’t stop smiling. It was the most adorable thing Erik had ever seen. Her giggling and smiling was infectious. This is probably the most Erik has ever smiled and laughed in one sitting.

“I mean—what I’m saying is—I saw your achievements and you’re pretty impressive. I aspire to be like that.”

“…Thank you. What are you studying again?”

“Psychology. I want to branch off into Neuropsychology. I plan to go back to school for my PhD.”

“There’s so much you can do in psychology. Believe it or not, I wanted to major in psychology at one point but engineering just stuck to me.”

“Why engineering?”

Erik gave Valencia a lopsided grin that showed off a glint of confidence. She focused on his plump lips, porcelain teeth, and gold slugs.

“There’s so much you can do. You can choose to work on projects that benefit society, help clean the environment, develop prosthetic aids, create clean and efficient transportation systems, find new sources of energy, alleviate the world's hunger problems, and increase the standard of living in underdeveloped countries. The possibilities are endless. And on top of all that, you make a lot of money…”

Valencia couldn’t tell you everything he was saying honestly. This man was too fine. The way his voice sounded to her ears felt like asmr.

“…job security and excellent job prospects—”

“You’re like, very attractive.”

Erik rested his hands in his lap and cocked his head. Valencia jerked her head in the direction of the window and shook her head.

“That came out unexpectedly,” Valencia laughed with embarrassment, “But you are—”

“Thank you.” He drew in a long breath, “Coming from someone as beautiful as you…”

Valencia held her breath. She hung her head and smiled. Internally, she was jumping up and down.

“Thanks,” Valencia fidgeted.

“Anytime, beautiful,” Erik continued to stare at her while his fingers tapped on the table.

“Are you from Houston?” Valencia questioned with a timid voice.

“Nah. I’m from California. That’s where I live currently but I decided to come back here for my doctorate.”

Valencia nodded her head. She crossed her right leg over her left thigh and leaned in with her elbow on the desk. That gesture showed that she was warming up to him.

“I love California. I have an aunt and a few cousins that live there currently. They’re in San Francisco.”

“That’s where I’m from. Oakland. I’m staying in LA right now though. Are you from here?”

“Yes. Born and raised in Houston.” Valencia replied.

Erik stretched his arms above his head.

“Tired?” Valencia asked.

“A little. I worked out really early this morning and I had to deal with that party.”

Valencia giggled, “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. I didn’t see you there.” Erik said.

“Rochelle used to let us get away with a lot…”

Valencia looked over at Erik.

“I know. Which is why she’s no longer your RA…”

Her body shivered slightly. The air was too cold in the building. She thrust her chest out unknowingly and Erik could see the outlines of her erect nipples through her dress. He leaned back in his chair to admire her fully.

“I’m not an uptight motherfucker but I’m not gonna let these students walk all over me. I have a great rep here at TSU and I wanna keep it that way.”

“Oh, no, I totally understand,” Valencia reassured him, “I love that you follow the rules. Rochelle acted as more of a friend and she really didn’t know how to discipline…”

Hm,” Erik licked his lips, “I’m really good with discipline.”

“Oh?” Valencia says. She felt her body tremble.

“I’m very assertive. I tend to…take the lead in situations. It can come off as aggressive…sometimes I have to work on that.”

“Okay…”

Valencia rubbed her arms.

“Cold?”

“A little—”

“Here…”

Erik stood up and proceeded to take off his hoodie. Valencia paused, staring at Erik’s torso. He had on a white T-shirt underneath that clung to his biceps and chest. The muscles put her in a daze. He handed her his hoodie from across the table. Valencia accepted it and pulled it over her. It fit her like a dress. She fixed her braids and smoothed down the wrinkles in the hoodie. It smelled like him. She fought to press her nose into it.

“It looks good on you.”

“You think so?” Valencia wasn’t so sure.

“Yeah. So Valencia, do you mind if I have your number?”

She was not expecting that. Her eyes went wide with surprise.

“Is that okay?” Erik asked with furrowed brows.

“YES!”

She covered her mouth with her hand. She didn’t expect to scream it. Erik was cracking up.

“Yes, it’s okay. I’m sorry I don’t know why I yelled like that.” Valencia toyed with one of her braids, “Yes you can.”

She retrieved her phone and unlocked it. Erik did the same. They exchanged numbers and switched back.

“That way, you know how to get in touch with me if you have any questions about philosophy or just…anything in general really.”

“Definitely. Thanks so much, Erik. I really appreciate you.”

“Anytime. And you know you can always knock on my door…”

Oh, yes. He does have a dorm on the same floor as hers. She beamed at him and he smiled back.

“Sure…I can do that.”

They both stood up and gathered their things.

“Well, this is goodbye for now. I have to get ready to meet some friends tonight.”

“I hope I didn’t hold you up,” Erik tucked his textbook inside his bag.

“No, no.”

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Valencia broke eye contact first and turned away to leave. She glanced back at Erik, giving him a final wave goodbye before heading towards the elevators. Erik returned the wave with a smirk, his eyes never leaving Valencia.

—————-

Cindy, Skai, and Brielle were sitting in a booth nursing mixed tequila cocktails. Skai was sitting next to Brielle and Cindy was third-wheeling. She rolled her eyes every time Skai and Brielle would eye-fuck each other. Valencia texted Cindy’s phone that she just parked and is on her way in.

The Poetry Party Live is a college hotspot. They’re known for playing great music, having tasty food, and drinks that sneak up on you. It was definitely a more romantic vibe that Friday evening. So many couples were on dates. Cindy spotted two professors in the booth in front of them. Professor Boyd and Professor Parham.

Valencia came in and she searched the throng of people until she recognized Brielle’s ginger coils. She changed into an orange dress that compliments her mocha skin. Cindy looked up and over her shoulder, waving Valencia over with pleading eyes.

“What took you so long?! I’m dying over here!”

“My bad. I had a tutoring session that ran a little late.”

“They’ve been torturing me,” Cindy cringed, “And Dior isn’t here yet.”

Valencia frowned.

“Who invited Dior?”

Cindy pointed to Skai. Skai sipped her drink with a guilty look.

“I’m sorry! She really wanted to come. You still don’t like her?”

“No, I don’t, Skai. She’s weird.”

Skai rolled her eyes. Brielle laughed.

“Is she drunk already?” Valencia asked.

“You know she is. This is her third one.”

“Brielle!”

“It’s a Friday night and I passed my lab practical!”

“WOOHOO!!

Skai bounced up and down in her seat. Valencia squealed, reaching over to shake her friend excitedly.

“YES BITCH!—oh shit, I’m loud as fuck.”

Andrea looked up from her seat in the booth over and noticed Valencia. They locked eyes and waved to each other. Brielle glanced over her shoulder at Andrea. James turned around with a smirk on his face and a glass in his hand with dark liquor.

“Oooh! Ya’ll on a date?!” Cindy teases.

“Yes, we are,” James replied with a chuckle, “Hope you’re ready for that test on Monday, Cindy.”

Cindy shot James a playful glare that had everyone laughing.

“I’m kidding! Enjoy!”

James turned back to his date and the girls snickered.

A waiter brushed past Valencia and Brielle shouted to get her attention. She halted her footsteps, long ombré braids swaying against her back. She smiled and made her way over to them.

“Need anything else ladies?”

“Our friend just showed up! Can you get her a—”

“Long Island Iced Tea please.”

“Okay! Can I see your ID?”

Valencia opened her small white Telfar bag and plucked her license from her wallet. She showed the waiter and she put a thumbs up.

“Almost your birthday!” The waiter said.

“Yeah! Twenty-two.”

The waiter sauntered off and then a round of applause erupted around them. A full-figured woman with sister locs made her way on stage. She stopped in front of the mic, testing it to make sure it was on. She scanned the crowd with a warm smile before introducing herself. The instrumental to Floetry Say Yes started playing. She was blanketed in spotlights and the rest of the club was shrouded in low ambience.

“This one is called Enticing Night…”

whisper light, a sigh so deep,

In tangled sheets, secrets keep.

Your touch ignites a fevered glow,

As fingertips trace paths below.

On velvet skin, my hands explore,

Each curve, each line, I yearn for

more.

She paused, appreciative hums making her words all the more real.

Breath mingles in the heated air,

A rhythm builds, we're lost in where.

Our pulses race, in sync they beat,

In this embrace, our worlds complete.

“Thank you…”

Snaps filled the room.

“That was good,” Valencia accepted her drink.

“Dior!”

Skai stood up to get her attention.

Valencia looked up at Dior fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t understand what Dior didn’t like about her, maybe it was because of Isaiah? As far as Valencia knew they weren’t together. And she didn’t want him anyway. Dior scooted next to Skai, directly across from Valencia.

“Brie, Cindy, Val…”

“Hello,” Valencia waved.

“Why ya’ll chose this place? Ya’ll don’t wanna shake some ass?”

“Girl, we did that last weekend. It’s okay to switch it up,” Skai argued.

“I feel like I need whatever Brie sippin’ on because she is lit!”

“Peach Tequila!” Brielle shouted.

“Okurrrr. I’ll have that then…who the waiter?”

Cindy pointed at the young girl who was currently clearing off a booth.

“She got a phat ass butt,” Dior bit down on a long acrylic french nail, “She can have all my monies…”

“You’re such a whore for some booty, Dior.” Skai jokes.

Valencia giggled. She swirled her straw around her drink before taking another sip. Cindy rocked back and forth in her seat, singing along to Beyoncé Check Up On It.

“Hi! I’m Chanel…”

“Hi, Chanel, I’m Dior. I wanted to order what she had.”

“Okay, ID?”

Dior flashed her ID at Chanel while giving her a seductive look. Valencia and Cindy share a look before laughing into their drinks.

“you fine. You like girls?”

Skai slapped Dior on her arm. Chanel laughed at Dior.

“I have a man, but thank you.”

It was so cringe.

Chanel walked away and Dior’s eyes were glued to her ass like flies on shit.

“You need to chill. What’s up with you and Brooke?”

“That bitch? Girl…”

Dior and Skai talked about her drama while Valencia excused herself to the restroom. Brielle ended up following her. They entered the bathroom and Valencia let Brielle go first since she was on the verge of pissing herself.

“You never told me who you tutored with!!!!” Brielle yelled.

“My crush,” Valencia smiled.

“For real?! What does he even tutor?”

“A lot of shit but it was for philosophy. He asked for my number.”

Brielle flushed and damn near shoved the door open. She gawked at Valencia before they switched places. Meanwhile, Andrea exited the stall next to theirs and she walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

“So basically that means he’s into you? So the HBCU blog was the right thing to do, huh?”

“Yep! If it wasn’t for the advice the owner of the blog gave me, I wouldn’t have made it this far!”

Andrea slowly dried her hands while hanging onto their every word. Valencia flushed and left the stall. Andrea tossed her paper towel and stood within the mirror to fix her ponytail. Valencia caught her eye in the mirror and smiled.

“How’s everything going this semester, Valencia?”

“It’s going good. A little harder than last semester but I’m close to graduating so that’s good.”

Andrea nodded her head with a bright smile.

“You got this girl. And good luck with your crush…”

Valencia giggled. Andrea left the restroom, holding the door open for a woman to enter.

Back at the table, Andrea scooted into the booth to find another drink. She gave James a look and he chuckled.

“You know I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, James.”

“That’s why you need this drink. Take a damn break.”

Andrea rolled her eyes sassily before grabbing her drink. She toasted with James before taking a sip.

“What took you so long to ask me out?”

Andrea peeked at James from the top of her glass.

“I didn’t want to cross any boundaries. I didn’t wanna look like that guy friend who only wants one thing. That’s not what it is with you.”

“I get it,” Andrea sat her drink down, “I’ve crushed on you hard since undergrad…”

“Same. I always thought you had a thing for Daka though.”

“Seriously?” Andre laughs, “Everyone says that.”

“I see now it’s like a brother and sister thing.” James said.

“I used to sit back and watch you run after all these chicks…Thinking back to that Kappa party, my Delta sistas kept hassling me to tell you how I felt…”

Andrea traced the rim of her glass with her finger. James watched her intently.

“I’m just happy both of us get to sit here and express how we really feel.” James said.

“Me too.”

James cracked a smile before reaching over to grip Andrea’s soft hand. He stroked the top of her hand with his thumb.

Valencia and Brielle walked past their booth and settled into theirs.

“…That D9 party is gonna be lit tomorrow night!”

“I’m tryna go. Took y’all long enough!”

Brielle slipped past Dior and Skai to take her seat. Valencia sat down and pulled out her phone.

“You still talking to Isaiah?”

Valencia looked up at Dior.

“No. I’m over him.”

“Oh wow, what happened?”

“He wasted my time and he’s annoying as hell.”

Dior let out an obnoxious laugh, “YEAH. I could have told you that.”

Valencia looked towards the ceiling.

————

-I know it’s late, you’re probably not up. I just wanted to thank you again for your help 🥰 he asked for my number today! I don’t think it was because he’s interested but it’s a step, right?

Valencia sat alone in her dorm room wearing Erik’s hoodie and some panties with her braids tied down with a satin scarf. She sat at their desk with the television on in the background.

-I’m here ☺️ I’m happy I could help. If he asked for your number, I’d think it’s because he’s interested. It’s a big step actually.

Valencia typed a reply.

-You think so? I mean, he did flirt a little today. I just get so nervous around him.

Erik was in the middle of sprucing up his gold boots. He’s wearing a pair of red briefs with no shirt. It felt weird staying in the dorms when he has his own room at the Omega Psi Phi house. He picked up his phone to see the message that Valencia sent him.

-Don’t be. Try to be more open with him. See where it goes 😏 did you do anything special tonight?

-I went to this poetry club with some friends. Had two drinks and I’m a little tipsy now. It was an okay experience.

-...Is there anything that could have made it even better?

-yes 😭 if I was spending it with Erik. I wonder what he’s doing right now.

-you should text him. See what happens.

Valencia looked over at her phone next to her.

Fuck it. She had a little liquid courage.

Valencia: Hi ☺️

She made her way back to the blog

-I did it! 😭

Erik fell back against his bed. He typed a reply.

Erik: Hello 😌

Valencia: I hope I didn’t wake you.

Erik: I’m up. How was your night?

Valencia: it was alright. You?

Valencia nibbled on her nails anxiously.

Erik: Hazy. Had a little smoke session.

Valencia returned to the blog.

-Is it too late for a dare?

-Definitely not lol. This is fun. What’s the dare?

-I dare you to send a risky text. However you want to.

-How risky though?

-😈

Erik waited to see what she would do. He wanted to see how far she would go. The fact that she would have preferred to spend the evening with him made him wonder what they would have gotten into.

Erik: Did you crash on me?

Valencia:

She couldn’t believe she sent that picture. She tossed her phone on the bed and stood up from the desk. Valencia paced back and forth. Hands covering her face, heart racing, stomach in knots. Did she do the right thing?

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…

That picture was meant for Isaiah and boy was she happy she sent it to Erik instead. She’d heard her phone vibrate minutes ago but she was too scared to see what he said. Valencia walked over to the bed and picked up her phone. She pressed it against her chest, scared out of her mind. Overthinking per usual. Finally, she looked at his text and boy was she glad that she did.

Erik: Shit girl 😍

Erik: 😍😍😍😍

Erik: I can’t stop staring 😩

He didn’t expect that at all. That was the furthest thing from what he expected. He sat up in bed and drooled over that picture. That ass up and that beautiful arch. He wondered what other pictures she was hiding. He loved her body so much. He knew exactly what to do with all of that. Play into his size kink. His dick was brick hard. No pussy in almost a year. The longest he’d ever gone without sex. He could have easily linked with his ex girlfriend on campus but he pictured himself digging Valencia’s guts out whenever the fuck he pleased.

Valencia: 😛

Erik: You tryna tell me something? 👀

Erik: I see you do like it deep…That tutoring session was necessary after all 😍

Valencia was over the moon thrilled at Erik’s reaction to her pic. So much that she was jittery. Back on the blog, Valencia quickly typed.

-I can’t believe I sent him a risky photo. I thought he wouldn’t have liked it but I was wrong 😂

Ping.

Erik went back to the blog messages. Wouldn’t like them? Was she crazy! He loved them! Boy was he happy that he found out about Valencia when he did. He wanted to put her in that position. Arch that pretty back over the edge of his bed, slip her panties to the side, and slide his dick in deep and slow. He wanted her to feel his length. He had a big toy dangling between his legs. Girls with that type of body can take dick. Girls who arch their backs like that need the dick.

-No. if the feeling is mutual, why would you think that?

-IDK. I’m always overthinking shit. 😭

Valencia had to take a second to rethink what she was doing. Sure, she wanted to do unspeakable things with Erik. Nasty things. But she felt she was coming on too strong. Maybe she should dial it back a little…make him …yearn for more? Tease him. He’s older and definitely has more experience. He’s probably used to woman throwing themselves at him. No. Valencia was going to do the opposite. Who said she couldn’t be shy and purposely excite and sexually arouse while withholding gratification?

She left him on read.

Valencia logged out of the blog and shut off the light for bed. She pulled her duvet back and just then, Brielle came in. She had her curly, ginger hair up in a puff. Her pleated skirt was situated higher around her waist, showing some of her ass. Her cropped shirt was dangling from her shoulder and she looked freshly fucked.

Brielle noticed Valencia was still awake and she gave her an enigmatic smile.

“I’m surprised you’re still awake.” Brielle whispered.

“I’m surprised you’re still walking,” Valencia laughs.

————

It was 6 am and Erik stood on the race track and stretched his quadriceps. Flexing his toes in his green Nike running shoes, he took off running. He liked to go for a run around the track before he did any strength training. AirPod Max Pro’s over his ears, shirtless, and black running shorts on, Erik was a mission. In the zone, the heavy bass from the rap song he was listening to fueled him.

Erik made it around the track once before stopping to take a sip of water he’d left at the bleachers. He jogged over to grab a drink and when he looked up he saw his ex girlfriend from undergrad, Jeanette, stretching her hip flexors. She glanced up at Erik and waved to him. Erik returned the gesture. She stood tall and made her way towards him. She’s wearing a track and field outfit, similar to what she wore back then when she ran.

“Stevens. It’s been a while. How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Great. Have you been avoiding me?”

Erik arched a brow.

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know…you’ve been back for a minute now and I haven’t had the chance to catch up with you. It feels like you’re dodging me.”

“Nah, Jeanette. I’ve been busy. What happened to that dude? The one that keep running his mouth?”

Jeanette broke out in a fit of laughter. Erik was dead serious. That nigga better be lucky he don’t go to TSU. That nigga better be lucky Erik didn’t find him yet.

“Erik, relax okay?”

Jeanette caressed Erik’s sweaty bicep. Erik eyed her down with a stony expression.

“What do you really want, Jeanette?”

“Whatchu think?”

Erik carefully moved Jeanette’s hand away from his arm. She kissed her teeth at him.

“I haven’t seen you in years. You look good…real good.”

“I know,” Erik smirked cockily.

“Still got that big ass ego…”

Erik glanced down at his I-watch. He needed to finish his run.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Jeanette. I gotta finish my run…”

“Mhm, am I gonna see you at the D9 party tonight?”

“Of course I’ll be there.”

Erik backed away towards the track. Jeanette placed her hands on her hips, eye-fucking Erik while continuing her stretches.

“Ima put this AKA ass on you tonight, Daka!”

Erik sprinted off with a shake of his head.

Some time later, Valencia had finished swimming laps and doing a bit of water aerobics with weights. Her body was sore and drenched. After taking a shower, she gathered her things and walked out of the gymnasium. On her way back to her dorm, Valencia wasn’t paying attention and she almost collided with someone as she was leaving.

She didn’t have the best workout today because her mind continued to wander. She still hadn’t replied to Erik. The thought made her smile to herself. She shouldered her gym bag and took sips from her water bottle. As she approached her dorms, the man that distracted her was busy texting on his phone while listening to music. His head popped up and he paused in his tracks, staring Valencia down hard.

Valencia spotted Erik opening the door for her and she automatically grew timid. She tucked her chin and gave him a shy wave. Seeing him in person was completely different from texting him last night. The recollection of what she sent him hit her like a freight train. Her heart was practically rattling around in her chest cavity. The closer she got, the more his penetrating stare commanded her.

“After you.”

“Thank you…”

Valencia felt so exposed in her little gym shorts. He was directly behind her. She could smell his natural musk and it sent shivers throughout her body.

“Mm…mm…mm…”

She couldn’t contain her shaky exhale. He was probably picturing himself bending her over right there…

“Sleep well?”

Valencia blinked her eyes up at Erik.

“H–Huh?”

“…sleep? Did you get some rest?”

“Yeah! Sorry…”

“I figured you went to sleep since you left me on read and shit…”

Erik pressed the button for them to get on the elevator. Valencia avoided his gaze, her eyes looking around her.

“Valencia?”

She snapped her head in his direction. He was already on the elevator. She could tell he was fighting a laugh. Embarrassed, she walked in.

“You’re hella distracted…I’m the one that should be acting like that after what you sent me last night, girl...”

Valencia took in a breath. He did things to her body she couldn’t control. The trembling, the uneven breathing, the wetness that drenched her panties. She was in lust for this man and she needed him to fuck her. She wouldn’t say that to his face though.

“I…I have a lot of work to catch up on…and I’m really hungry…”

They left the elevator and Erik walked slowly so Valencia could catch up with him. She spotted Skai and Cindy sitting in the lounge studying and when they noticed her they gave her a weird look. Erik looked down at Valencia, biting his bottom lip openly so she knew that he was feeling her. Valencia slowed down her footsteps in front of her dorm room door. Her eyes discreetly roamed Erik’s body. His russet skin glistened with sweat and his muscles looked defined and sculpted. His locs were messy and resting against his forehead. He looked so fucking edible.

“This is me,” Valencia pointed to her door, giving Erik a quick glance with a smile, “I guess I’ll see you later…”

“You guess?” Erik cocked his head back.

“I—I didn’t mean it like that.” She spoke with a barely audible tone.

Erik startled her by reaching out to caress her arm. His hand stroked from the back of her upper arm, past her elbow, and down her forearm until he was holding her hand in his firm grip.

“You know you have a lot of explaining to do, girl.” Erik whispered.

He smelled so fucking amazing. His natural scent crowded her. She wanted to press her nose against whatever area that had exposed flesh. Lick his skin to see what his sweat tasted like—

“Do you know about the D9 party tonight?”

Valencia twisted her lips to fight a smile.

“I do. Are you asking me to go?”

Her eyes dropped down to her hand in his. She swayed from side to side.

“I am. I wanna see you there.” Erik said.

Valencia’s cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling. She tried to hide her face so Erik took it upon himself to lift her chin.

“You gonna be there, Valencia. I want to see you there.”

She blinked at Erik slowly. His eyes dropped down to her juicy lips. He wanted to taste them…

“I’ll be there….”

“You better.”

Erik stroked her chin with his thumb. It sent shockwaves throughout her body. Straight to her pussy. It was such a small gesture that held so much dominance. Erik finally let go and backed away, his eyes dancing up and down her frame while he drew his plump bottom lip into his mouth. His eyes were low and almost sleepy-like and it made him look dreamy. Valencia giggled and looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

“We should get lunch later.” Erik said raising his brows.

“I’d like that.” Valencia replied.

“Aight, I’ll see you then, beautiful.”

He turned and strolled down the hall with a gait.

[hannie-dul-set]

PATIENCE, PATIENCE.

p — SIM JAEYUN x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, making out, secondhand embarrassment aka the hannie-dul-set fic triumvirate + a good amount of public indecency. 1.5k words.

requested by — anon: cocky jock (who loses that cockiness around you) x reserved student librarian (who loses that cool because of him).

note — loosely inspired by a moment from the manhwa "unstoppable hayoung" ifykyk. in a prev fic i alluded beomgyu to a mosquito, in this one jake to a pest. i think i'm seeing a pattern here.

a pest has been following you for quite some time now.

“sim jaeyun.”

his name falls icy off your tongue, prefacing it with a sharp inhale yet the man in question is unfazed. he’s trespassing the barrier that’s preventing you from socking him in the face: the front desk of the library where he’s decided to prop his arms over, leaning into the surface, smiling oh-so-handsomely at you as if you aren’t politely telling him to fuck off with your eyes alone.

then again. you don’t really expect him to understand social cues.

“for the dozenth time, please leave me alone.”

so you verbalize your intent instead.

“i can’t do that, baby,” he replies. “not until you agree to go out with me.”

you suck in a deep huff of air, close your eyes, and dig your fingers into your thighs to ward away the distress.

“just one date. please?” he prods, nudging himself closer over the desk as if the scrawls of paper you’re trying to organize aren’t as important as his incessant badgering. “are you really going to keep saying no to this face?” the face in mention looks particularly punch-able right now. you’ve always taken pride in yourself for being a very patient, patient individual. jake sim from philosophy 102 is testing that patience.

“the library is for reading,” you say through gritted teeth. patience, patience, patience. you’re a daffodil on a breezy field, a piece of driftwood on a steady river. you will not fight a man in your workplace. you will keep your job and maintain inner peace.

“i am reading,” he argues. “i’m trying to read your mind because i don’t get why you don’t want to go out with me.”

holy crap. he’s insufferable.

“i’ve already told you dozens of times, jake.” now, you don’t know a thing or two about the ball sport he does, but that pink varsity jacket is starting to look abhorrent. it’s being shoved into your face the more he tries to throw himself over your desk. a bright jarring color, unsafe for the eyes. “i don’t want to go out with you. also, i’d appreciate if you stop ruining my work.”

one of the documents got wrinkled under his elbow. his mouth opens, “oh, sorry!” and he quickly backs off, ironing the sheet with his palms. “but at least tell me why you don’t want to go out with me. you keep rejecting me with a blank face but i don’t know why.”

your upper lip twitches. 

because this is all because of a dare, that’s fucking why.

no, even that aside, the way he keeps arrogantly trying to hit on you, expecting you to just accept it and go is grinding your gears. you’re calm. you’re usually calm. but something about this guy just pushes all your buttons in one go, makes you spew out bullshit you’d never dare yourself to say to anyone else.

“hey,” your rouse. “can you kiss me right now?”

two can play at that game, bitch.

it works. it works really well because jake is suddenly as pink as his jacket. well, you don’t blame him. the library isn’t safe from gross, hormonal activities, but those are usually done in between the shelves— not at the front desk near the entrance. 

you’re mimicking his stance, leaned forward, arms crossed over the desk and all. “like— like a peck on the cheek?” he stutters.

“no. like tongue in mouth kissing me like a starved man and it’s your last meal on death row,” you clarify. it’s funny how you can see his brain circuits crashing in real time. serves him right. you let out a breath and stand up, seeing the clock tick closer to your break. you quickly gather your things and circle out from behind the desk, now in cross-armed disappointment next to your persistent pest. “this is why i don’t want to go out with you, jake. you don’t even have feelings for me. you’re doing this because your friends told you to, and i don’t—”

suddenly, you feel something soft on your lips.

suddenly, your knees are weak, your mind is fuzzy, and you’re exchanging spit with jake sim in the library lobby.

wait, you gasp into his mouth and he responds with a grunt. wait, your eyelids flutter, air knocked out of your chest that’s somehow now pressed against his because wait— this wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

how dare he actually do what you told him to? how dare he give you the best damn kiss you’ll ever have in your life? 

“what the fuck?” you breathe out in intermittent huffs, hands on his chest as you pull yourself back. jake’s hazy eyes are looking at you in a way that makes your brain jump in circles, coupled by the arm that he has looped around your lower back. he’s crazy. he’s fucking crazy. “why— why would you do that?!”

“you told me to kiss you!”

“and you did?!”

your eyes widen at the volume of your own voice, quickly slapping a hand over your swollen lips, but making noise is at the bottom of your library sins today. you see your supervisor’s attention on you from the corner of your eye, and your face flushes. “why would you go this far for a dare?” you say in a quieter voice, still manic, still frantic, and jake flinches hard when you jab a finger to his chest. “you’re nuts, you’re actually nuts, oh my god—”

“wait, what do you mean dare?” your finger seems to be hurting him because he grabs your wrist and brings your hand down. “a dare? a dare to do what?”

you seethe. “don’t play dumb with me, jake. overheard you and your little soccer friends last time—”

“it’s football—”

“i don’t care.” your voice is getting louder again. jake flinches once more. “the problem here is you keep asking me out to date you because your soccer friends are betting on who can bed the quiet library assistant first and— and i’m not going to play dumb just because you’re a good kisser. i’m angry and disgusted and—”

“do you mind continuing your argument outside?”

your mouth is hanging open, paused mid-speech. when you peer to your left, you see that your supervisor has teleported right next to you. oh, god. there goes your job. jake apologizes for the both of you and skews your frozen figure out the door. you’re screwed. your patience could handle six months at starbucks and three months babysitting three toddlers, but i cannot handle one sim jaeyun.

“so,” the perpetrator’s voice snaps you back to reality. you’re both now outside the library, and he’s looking at you with a smugness that begs a kick to the balls. “you think i kiss good.”

your face bitters. “is that your only takeaway from all that?”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i also got that you’re rightfully mad at me for something i have to clear up.”

here we go. you’re curious to see what excuses he’ll make, how many sorry’s he’ll impart, and if he’ll get down on his knees. jake. but his starting words aren’t what you’re hoping for. “there isn’t a bet,” he starts. “my teammates were just trying to tease me because i didn’t have the balls to ask you out. dumb, i know, but they were dumber because they were all like, ‘if you don’t make a move soon, we will, blah, blah, blah’ to provoke me so—”

jake is matching his varsity jacket again.

“long story short, i made them run fifteen laps and decided to get it over with by asking you out on a date.”

you’re brought back to the first instance jake had asked you out— it was in the lecture hall, right after class, and he was wearing the same pink jacket that at this point seems like his second skin. the color isn’t as jarring as you initially thought.

“but rejection didn’t feel nice. so i thought i’d try again.”

you narrow your eyes. “again, as in like, eight times?”

“you counted?” he muses. you are unamused. he clears his throat and continues. “you’re always so calm and collected, but your eyebrows would furrow and your face would scrunch up whenever i threw you the question. it’s cute. i got addicted. you can’t pin all the blame on me.”

you let his words simmer, and with each passing second of silence jake grows more nervous, fidgeting in wait. you decide to spare him the agony, letting out a deep and heavy sigh. “okay. you’re forgiven.”

it’s instantaneous how his face lights up. now, you’re the one flinching.

“nice! does that mean we’re dating now? can i kiss you again?”

“now hold on,” you stop him, mildly appalled, mostly flustered. “i said i forgive you. i never said we can start making out in a public area again.”

he bats his eyes at you. “in private then?” 

you want to hit him. you want to hit him so bad. sim jaeyun is the pest that has been following you for quite some time now. you fear that at this point, there’s no getting rid of him now.

PATIENCE, PATIENCE. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.