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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago

Note

Hiii girl! Can I make a request for a prequel to I swear I’ll never leave? Something super angsty on how y/n and Terry got to that point in the first place🤍

I Still Don't Want You To Go

Pairing: Toxic Baby Daddy!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. ANGST, cursing, teasing, mentions of loneliness, depression, brief mention of harm against a child, bad ass child, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, my mom is distracting me.

Summary: A prequel to “I Swear I’ll Never Leave”. Four months ago, things came to a head for you, the loneliness getting too loud for you to ignore. You wanted your husband home, safe and sound with you. As you reminisce about the good times, it’s the bad times you can’t get over. And though your timing sucks, you have to finally tell Terry what’s really on your heart.

Word Count: 7,801k

AO3 Link | I Swear I'll Never Leave

A/N: WHEW. When I say this hurt MEEE. I'm exposing myself like a MF LOL. I see you sneaky anon, a prequel request. I'd love to know your thoughts on the angst, I wanna get better at it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Six years ago…

“Lovely Day” by Bill Withers crooned from your portable speaker on the marble countertop. The smell of meatloaf and mashed potatoes filled the kitchen, steam rising from the pot on the stove. You were working on the gravy, tasting as you went. Cadence kicked in your belly and you stopped to place a hand there.

“Alright babygirl, we almost there. You are so impatient already,” you said to her, rubbing your belly. You had a few months left to go but she was already kicking to get out. You’d have to put her in track or soccer or something. She’d run you ragged if you weren’t careful.

“How’s my two favorite girls?” Terry entered the room, following the scent of food.

You giggled. “You always know when the food is done!” You shrieked with laughter as Terry encircled your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He placed his hands on either side of your protruding belly.

“Can’t help it when I smell a snack,” he said, kissing your cheek.

You sighed at his corny joke but giggled anyway. “You get on my nerves,” you said with a shake of your head. This man of yours.

“I love you too. Time to eat?” He asked.

You craned your neck to look over your shoulder at him. He grinned, catching your eye, and then kissed your cheek once more. “You can’t be that hungry,” you said.

“For your famous meatloaf? Hell yeah, I’m that hungry,” he said. He swayed with you to the music and you closed your eyes, taking it all in.

“Didn’t you just eat like…?”

“That was my pre-dinner food. This is dinner. I got room,” he said.

You shook your head. Thank goodness you weren’t having a boy. You didn’t know what the hell you would do if you had two of them running around, eating you out of house and home. You were barely keeping up with Terry and his voracious appetite when he was home.

“You can’t possibly eat like this on base,” you said.

“I can pack away some food. But hmm, ain’t nothing better than being home,” he said.

“I worry about you. Help me with the meatloaf please,” you said.

“I need a kiss first,” he said.

You sighed and craned your neck to kiss his cheek. He shook his head, releasing you long enough to turn you around.

“A real kiss,” he said, suddenly turning serious. He furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned down, capturing your lips with his.

It felt like he was trying to tell you something with the kiss, but you weren’t sure what. He held onto you, gripping your waist as if you were the lone anchor and he had been out at sea for weeks.

You leaned back and looked at him. “Terry? Everything okay?”

&&&

Four months ago…

“Everything okay?” Terry asked.

“Huh?” You turned your attention back to him. Cadence fidgeted in your lap. You sighed and righted her once more so that she could look at the screen at her daddy. He was on base and you were talking to him on video chat, trying to make it a nightly thing for Cadence’s sake, but it was getting tougher.

She had sunk into her terrible six’s, getting impatient the minute she didn’t get her way. You blamed Terry of course. Spoiling the damn child and making it seem like you were the bad parent, always saying no and doing nothing fun.

“I’m just tired, Terry,” you sighed. You smiled, despite it all, but even that was getting exhausting. You were cranky, irritable, and at your wit’s fucking end.

Terry’s eyebrows furrowed but he took you at your word. Cadence flopped in your arm like she was over the whole thing. You corrected her again, holding down her arms and legs so she’d sit still.

She began to whine, paying attention to anything but her daddy. “When are you coming home?” Cadence asked, suddenly switching gears and leaning far into the camera.

“I’m not sure yet, baby. But I hope it’s soon,” he said.

“Will you be here for Mustard’s birthday?” She asked. Mustard, being her imaginary friend. She babbled endlessly to the mysterious Mustard who was usually to blame when Cadence acted out.

“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he said.

Cadence groaned, flopping into your arms once more. Ugh. You finally picked her up and set her down. She began to cry, trying to climb back onto you. “Aht aht, you’re acting out because your Daddy isn’t here. And you know better,” you said.

Cadence cried harder, fighting to get back in your lap. You looked at Terry. “I’ll call you back,” you said. You slammed the laptop shut without even hearing his reply. You were tired and fucking over it.

Cadence turned her cries into a full blown temper tantrum, stomping her feet and jumping up and down. You stared at the little devil and for a split second, just a split, you pictured tossing her ass out through the window. Fuck. That was an evil thought.

“Cadence. You have three seconds to stop and use your words. Acting like a damn barn animal,” you said, sucking your teeth.

Cadence continued to cry and stomp, falling onto the floor and screaming at the top of her lungs. You stared at her. At your wild, beautiful, terror of a daughter. You couldn’t scream. Screaming would only feed into whatever this fucking phase was. Screaming would turn you into your own mother, who forced you into a box when you were younger. Only to be seen and never heard.

You didn’t have the greatest relationship with your mother. You wanted a mom and she raised you to be the mother she never had. She thought you were the best of friends when you just wanted to escape. Be free from her constant judgement and disappointment.

You stared at your child as she screamed bloody murder and you didn’t know what to do. Terry didn’t have much family that you could turn to. There was Mike, but Mike was young. Mike didn’t need the responsibility of looking after his niece like that. He should be out and enjoying being young and free. There was your best friend Gianna, but she had her own life to live.

Cadence’s wails were like nails on chalkboard, making your brain itch in places you couldn’t reach. Great, heaving sobs trapped in your chest and you held it in. Held in the anger. Held in the frustration. You were a bad fucking mother and you didn’t know how to fix this. The only one who could was a few states away, off on base doing who knew what.

You stared. You hurt. You stared. She cried.

Cadence flopped on the floor, crocodile tears streaming down her face. “Cadence, off the floor. Now,” you said as calmly, voice ready to wobble but you kept on a brave face.

Cadence ignored you, flipped onto her stomach, and then kicked at the floor in her footie pajamas. You stared. And stared. You felt absolutely drained. Like there was nothing left inside of you to keep going. Keep moving. Keep doing this shit day in and day out.

But she was yours. You would not abandon her. She may grow up to hate your guts, never speak to you again like you barely did with your own mother, but dammit, you weren’t going to yell and scream at a child who didn’t truly understand the world yet.

You left Cadence on the ground to scream and yell while you went to your room to collect laundry. Let her fucking yell and scream. Maybe it’d tire her little behind out.

You grabbed the laundry basket from your room, picking up wayward clothes that needed to be washed. The famous chair was overfilled with clothes and Terry’s robe. An ache formed behind your eye, growing worse the more Cadence screamed. Cadence jogged into the room, rubbing the back of her eyes with her hand.

She continued to cry and scream and you turned to her. She looked at you and sat on the ground, snot running down her face. “Are you ready to use your words?” You asked.

She shook her head. “Then you sit there until you are,” you said. You scooted past her to her room to collect her dirty clothes. She followed you, continuing to cry her eyes out.

“So now you don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked.

Her cries turned to sniffling and hiccuping. She finally caught on that you weren’t going to feed into her nonsense. “No,” she hiccuped.

“No? You don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked.

“I do listen!” She yelled.

You tilted your head and gave her The Look. She rubbed her eyes with her hand and then walked closer, putting her head on your leg. “Where’s Daddy?” She asked.

“Daddy’s at work. You know that,” you said. You placed the basket on her pink princess bed and then dropped down to her level. You grabbed one of her hands and helped wipe her face.

“I didn’t raise you to act out. You have a voice and you have to learn to use it,” you said, tears threatening to spill down your face. How could you make her see how important it was to use her words? To use what so many people took for granted?

She was still too young to understand the nuances of being Black and a little girl. Your mother silenced your voice when you were younger. Placing the burden of being alive on you and not on her for not swallowing you instead of giving birth. You didn’t want that for Cadence. Didn’t want her to grow up, mincing her words, swallowing it all down, chest caving in whenever there was confrontation.

You wanted her to be strong. Full of life. Everything you weren’t. You blinked away the hot, itchy tears and smiled at her.

“I miss Daddy,” she said. “I don’t want to see him on the ‘puter.”

You sighed. You figured as much. But there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. He had a good job providing for you and Cadence. Maybe it would’ve been easier if he was a deadbeat. It would be easier to ignore the growing ache in your heart, missing him at home with you and Cadence.

“I miss Daddy too. But you can’t throw a tantrum whenever you don’t get your way. That’s not how young ladies act. And your Daddy would be very hurt to know you’re acting up,” you said.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said. She hugged you and you hugged her back. God, you needed this shit to end. This constant need to cry or yell or scream yourself. You weren’t a child anymore. You didn’t have the luxury of flopping on the floor whenever you were overwhelmed.

“Thank you, baby. Go wash your face and get ready for bed,” you said. You released her and then popped her on the butt to get a move on. She giggled, jogging out of the room and headed to the bathroom.

“With soap!” You called out. Cadence giggled like that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. You shook your head and continued grabbing her dirty clothes off the floor. You seriously had to teach that little girl to pick up after herself better. It was like once Terry was out of the house, she lost all pieces of her marbles.

You could relate. You distracted yourself with picking up her toys, crayons, and coloring books off of the floor and back into its proper places. You grabbed the laundry basket and left her room.

“Daddy says he may not make your birthday, Mustard. But that’s okay! We’ll take sooooooooo many pictures for him!” Cadence chattered on and on to her little friend.

You shouldn’t be…worried, right? Your daughter had friends but she only saw them at school. The other parents constantly asked you about playdates but you had so much to do between your own work, the house, and getting Cadence together, that you didn’t have it in you to take her for playdates.

You didn’t trust her with anyone else and you didn’t have time to sit and hang out with the mommies while they all gushed about their husbands. Gahh. The whole thing made you sick. They always managed to feel sorry for you. But always thanked your husband for his service.

Whatever. Fuck the service. Fuck the government. Fuck America and its bullshit. You wanted your husband at home. You wanted to crawl into bed and have him wrap his arms around you. If you knew that you’d be this damn lonely in marriage, you would have saved yourself the hassle.

You loved Cadence with everything in you. But it was never in your plans to raise her with no help. And it wasn’t fair on Terry. He was doing what he needed to do. But…you were tired of feeling like the bad guy when all you wanted was someone to hold you at night.

You finished up gathering today’s laundry and placed it in the laundry room. You tucked Cadence and Mustard into her bed, sitting down to read her a story while she drifted off to sleep.

You had a pounding headache from all her screaming and the unshed tears. But you sat for a while longer and prayed over your baby. Prayed she never ended up like you. Prayed she knew nothing but joy and love and how to reach out to people.

You were half alone, with one friend, and no family to help you. It was you, Terry, Gianna, Mike, and Cadence against the world. What a fucking family you all made.

You stood up and left the room and turned off the light. You left her door cracked and then made your way through the house, turning off lights, and running through a mental checklist of everything you had left to do tomorrow.

Making it to your room, you closed the door and flopped onto your cold, lifeless bed with a heavy sigh. You pulled the nearest pillow towards you and snuggled into it. Fuck. And you had to wake up and do it all over again.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Tears immediately welled in your eyes like it had just been waiting for you to be alone. You let the tears fall. Let your face get hot and puffy as you curled into a ball and cried. Your sniffling was muffled by the pillow.

You let it all out. The frustration from not being good enough for Cadence. The guilt over your disgusting thoughts about harming her. The loneliness from not having your husband there, beside you. Call you a weak ass bitch or whatever, but you just wanted your man home.

You cried over stupid shit, like spilling your coffee at work. Washing everything in the laundry but finding that one random sock that managed to miss the load. Watching Cadence play with Mustard and seeing Terry written all over her face. You curled into yourself harder and cried and cried, letting every last bit of it out.

You didn’t have enough strength when it was all over to clean your own face. So you flipped the pillow to a clean side and promptly went to sleep.

&&&

Six years ago…

You paced the length of the hallway in the hospital, trying to breathe through the pain. For all of Cadence’s kicks and tumbling, she sure as shit didn’t want to come out now. Your mother walked with you up and down the hallway, trying to tell you how to birth a child.

You held back whatever you wanted to say and rubbed your lower back. Fuuuuuck, this shit was painful. You were never doing this again. Fuck this. How did people have multiple kids? How did they birth a basketball team like it was nothing?

It felt like your insides were being scooped out with a rusty spoon. You stopped and leaned on the wall nearest you. “It’s gon’ be okay. Your body knows what to do,” your mom said.

You wanted to tell her to fuck off. So what if your body knew what to do? You didn’t. This was your first child and it was looking to be your only child. You couldn’t do this shit no more. And you sure as shit didn’t want to do it without Terry there.

Going through the last few months without him was bullshit. No one there to rub your feet or run errands when you were craving something stupid like ice cream and gummy worms. No one there to hold your hand when your panic over being a bad mom got too loud, too close to home, and you were spiraling.

But…you did it. You got through it. You could continue on. “Terry really ought to be here for this. I can’t believe he’s gonna miss the birth of his own child,” your mom complained.

“It’s not like he has a choice, mom,” you said, careful to watch your tone. Your mom never missed an opportunity to remind you that she was older and could still pop you in the mouth for being disrespectful.

“Don’t they have leave or something?” Your mom continued.

Can’t you fucking leave? You wanted to scream at her. You’d rather do this shit alone if all she was going to do was remind you that your husband would not be there. Would not be there to hear your child’s first cries.

You had planned and gushed over your baby together. You had theories on top of theories of who she’d favor more, what kind of personality she would develop, and what kind of life she would lead. He should be here.

Tears pricked your eyes but you beat them back. You had a job to do and it involved seeing this baby safely delivered. “I’m tired, mom,” you said.

“I know, baby. One more lap and then we’ll go sit for a minute,” she said. She grabbed your hand and your eyes ached from trying to hold back the tears. Sometimes your mom showed a bit of affection and like a kicked dog, you soaked it up. You reveled in the simple gesture, knowing that at any moment, her claws would come back out.

Squeaking tile made you turn your head. Terry leaned forward, the inertia from running making him rock on his heels. You locked eyes with him.

“Terry!” You yelled.

Terry power walked down the hallway dressed in his fatigues. He was clean shaven since he was on base and he looked so damn scrumptious you wanted to gobble him up then and there. He smiled as he approached, carefully taking your hand out of your mother’s.

“I knew you’d find a way to make it,” your mom said, patting Terry on the shoulder. “Otherwise I’d have talked shit.”

“Mom!” You said.

Terry chuckled. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Terry said. He grinned as he cupped your face. “How you feeling?”

“Better, now that you’re here,” you said.

Terry kissed your forehead and then grabbed your hand. With him by your side, it wasn’t so bad. You could get through it. You could do this. Still hurt like a motherfucker. Wait…You wailed as you held your stomach, feeling a contraction come on and ruin everything.

You gripped Terry’s hand with all the strength you could muster as you rode out the pain. You huffed and puffed as you calmed down from the intensity. You turned a side eye to Terry. “You’re never doing this to me again,” you said, your voice rough from wailing.

Terry had the good sense not to look dumb. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “Had fun making her though,” he said with a wink.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Nasty ass. Just like a man to enjoy all the benefits with none of the work,” you said.

Terry guided you back to your room. He walked slowly with you though his long legs could cover the distance in two seconds. “I wouldn’t say none of the work. I seem to recall you loudly begging –”

“Begging?!”

“Beggin’ me not to stop,” Terry said.

You chuckled and winced as it disrupted whatever the fuck Cadence was doing in your belly. Lord, you needed this child out neow.

Terry stayed with you every step of the way. He held your hand when you needed it and got lost when you cursed him ten ways from Sunday. He was there to make sure the doctors and nurses gave you what you needed, ensuring that your voice was heard and your concerns were met.

And when little Cadence Richmond came screaming into the world, Terry was right there grinning and laughing and kissing your forehead. “She’s fuckin’ beautiful. She’s so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against your temple. “You did so good, beautiful.”

&&&

“I can’t do this anymore, G,” you said, picking at the grass in your backyard.

Cadence jogged around the backyard with Mustard, running back and forth and screaming with laughter. That girl had a set of pipes. But it was a happy scream and you’d take that over anything else.

Your best friend, Gianna, flipped her locs over her shoulder and leaned back on her hands. “Do what?” She asked.

“Spend my life waiting for a man that don’t wanna come home,” you said. You looked down at the blade of grass and let the melancholy thoughts run wild. You knew your brain was a big, fat, ugly liar but sometimes that motherfucker made sense.

Terry went into the service to take care of you and Cadence when you were still two kids who didn’t know better. Now that Cadence was six, what was Terry doing? Why continue to stay on base?

The only logical answer was that he didn’t want to come home. He didn’t want to be here to help you. After years of practically living apart, the weight of your decisions made your head heavy.

What would’ve happened if you had joined him on base? Once it was proven that he wasn’t going to hop from state to state, or country to country, you could have joined him. But the thought of being a “military wife” tasted like sand in your mouth. You didn’t want to trade in a normal life for whatever the hell that was. You didn’t want Cadence to grow up coddled from the world.

No one was going to protect her because the world didn’t protect little Black girls. You didn’t want her to grow up with rose-colored glasses, thinking the world began and ended at the base. You wanted her strong but soft. Capable of taking care of herself but not hiding behind a steel wall all the time.

“Girl, you know that man loves you and Cadence. Have you talked to him at all?” Gianna asked. She shielded her eyes from the sun to look at Cadence doing cartwheels.

“Every time I try to, I get so choked up I can’t speak. And I don’t want him to see how much I’m struggling,” you said.

“He’s your husband. He’s supposed to see your struggle,” Gianna said. She leaned forward and looked at you. You felt her assessing gaze as if she was trying to see past your words. But there was nothing to see past.

Day by day, it became clearer that you no longer spoke the same language as your husband. He became a stranger before your eyes and you hadn’t noticed. Or had you not cared? You loved him still. You were very much still in love with him. But you weren’t going to hold him back.

The next time Terry came home, you were going to talk to him. Truly talk. And let him know that you weren’t going to hold him to a marriage he didn’t want to be in. Just thinking it turned your stomach sour. You didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want some other woman to get her claws in him. Didn’t want to “co-parent” with some chicken head with fake boobs.

You sure as shit didn’t want to see him kissing all over some other woman. Or have him create more children with someone else. But what was the alternative? Spend the rest of your life in a state of limbo. Longingly looking down the quiet street for a car that was never going to pull up?

The whole thing made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t know what you were going to do. But you knew this was your rock bottom. You couldn’t stand it another second.

“The other day, Cadence showed her entire ass screaming and all I could think was, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t half parent her. Not when he hangs the moon and I’m the monster under her bed,” you said.

“Where is this coming from? Why didn’t you call me?” Gianna took your hand in hers and shifted towards you.

“I thought I could handle it, is all,” you said and shrugged. Cadence was your child. Why should you pass the buck to someone else just to get a break? A break from your own child. That was your mom’s MO. She had to distract you in order for you to leave her alone. And now you were doing the same thing to your kid.

You were a mess and you were drowning. You were so far underwater there was no more light above you. And your light was a few states away toiling away at a job he loved more than you.

“Mommy! Auntie Gigi, loooook!” Cadence said, trying to turn a cartwheel into a flip but only flopped onto her butt.

“You be careful out there, little girl! But great job!” You said.

She got up and dusted herself off, nodding to herself. Then she kept practicing, falling over and over. But she kept getting up. You hoped she continued as she got older.

“You better talk to that man, you know he not gon’ like this,” Gianna said.

You squeezed her hand. Yeah. Yeah, that was putting it nicely.

&&&

Three years ago…

You sat down on the brown couch with a deep sigh. Terry chuckled and hummed tiredly, reaching his arm down from over the couch to pull you closer.

“You sound how I feel,” he said. Light from the TV splayed across his handsome face, a mix of colors dancing across his features. It was too dark in the living room to see his storm-blue eyes but you saw enough.

“That girl, I swear. I don’t know what kinda DNA you got swimming, but that is your child,” you said. You shifted until you were tucked protectively under his arm and against his chest. His heart thumped against your cheek and you closed your eyes briefly. Still your favorite song in the whole world.

“Nah, anything after seven is your baby. You never go to sleep on time,” he said.

“Yes, I do. Sometimes,” you said.

“What time you go to bed last night?” He asked. His thumb traced lazy patterns on your shoulder. The sound was muted on the TV but you looked at the picture. He was in the middle of some old movie from the 60s.

“That is beside the point,” you said, remembering that you didn’t go to bed until 2am. The night just made more sense to you to be awake. Day time was a burden and a half.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t believe we got her down. When is she going to grow out of her terrible fours?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I thought we were tiring her out. That wasn’t even her final form,” you said and groaned.

“I have a crazy thought,” he said.

“Mhm, what’s that?” You asked.

“What if we had another?” He asked.

You leaned away from him to look him in the face. He looked back at you with no change in his expression. He was serious. Like really serious. You leaned up further and faced him. “After today, you want another one?” You asked.

Cadence had been more than a handful lately. Since her Daddy came home, she had run him ragged taking up all his free time. She wanted to play princess or go for a horseback ride. She wanted to run around the backyard with him and push her stuffed teddies on the small swing set he built for her.

She wanted to lay down with him for her nap and yes, he had to climb under the Bluey blanket with her whether he fit or not. You did snap a thousand pictures and giggled to yourself while you got to some household chores.

After the nap, he had to watch TV with her. And he had to play dolls while he did so, non-negotiable. Then, for no reason at all, she ripped off her clothes and went streaking through the house. You two nearly gave up trying to chase her around.

Terry finally managed it and gave her a bath while you finally went to lay down. Goodness knew you needed it. Terry indulged in every little whim of Cadence’s and you told him often that he was doing nothing but spoiling her rotten.

“I know, but I can’t help it. She got me wrapped around her tiny finger. I miss so much,” he had said when you told him.

And now he wanted another?

“Yeah, before she gets too big. She could use a buddy. Our family is so small,” he said. His smooth voice trailed off, getting lost in thought as he stared at the TV. You wondered if he was even seeing it. Or if he was lost in a thought or a memory.

You cupped his cheek and caressed it with your thumb. “But are you sure?” You asked. Unlike Terry, you remembered what it was like trying to carry the child alone. You had no choice but to endure and handle it if Terry was gone during this pregnancy too. But sometimes, you got the sinking feeling that he was always looking for a way out and he just didn’t know how to tell you.

“You and Cadence mean absolutely everything to me. Yes, I’m sure,” he said. He smirked and bumped your shoulder.

“Remember all the fun we had making Cadence?” He pulled you closer and nuzzled your cheek with his nose. You held firm, refusing to give in to his charms. You were not going down that easy. You refused. Absolutely refused.

“I must’ve turned your little world. You stay bringing that up,” you said, pushing him away.

Terry held firm, moving his nose down to your neck and inhaling. He hummed, low and deep in his chest causing it to rumble. The sound carried up and down your spine, sending electric shocks through your brain. “Been waiting for you to do that shit again,” he said.

You giggled and leaned away. He followed and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Lemme give you a baby,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head. “You are out of your mind,” you said.

“You know you wanna be swollen with my baby again,” he said. He moved his hand to your shirt and searched beneath it, rubbing his fingers along your skin. You sighed with a moan, shifting your body closer. He was a cheating ass nigga.

“You get on my nerves,” you said. You feebly pushed at his chest but he was a mountain. Too immoveable. He grinned against your neck and then kissed it, his lingering lips sending pulses of heat straight to your pussy.

“You just wanna cum all up in this again. Admit it,” you said, giggling.

“I admit it. I confess. I am guilty,” he whispered against your neck.

You managed to giggle and moan at the same time, your brain in full on mush mode. There was nothing but the feeling of his hands on your tummy. He didn’t venture anywhere else, just ran the rough pads of his fingers against your skin.

It was more than enough. You pushed into him, needing more but not willing to say it. You couldn’t utter a single sound so you talked with your body. The only language you and Terry spoke well.

“Use your big girl words,” he said.

“You get on my nerves!” You said.

Terry smiled against your skin. “I love you too,” he said.

&&&

Four months ago…

“DADDDDDYYYYYYYY!” Cadence’s scream was loud enough to wake the dead ten towns over. As soon as Terry stomped into the house, light shining behind him, Cadence was on him like white on rice.

She launched herself into his arms and he had to kneel or get ran over. He scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tight. “How’s my babygirl?” He asked. He kissed her head and leaned back to look at her face.

His eyes softened as she talked a mile a minute, telling him every thought that came out of her head. Terry fixed her purple flowered shirt while she spoke. He nodded and asked her questions as he set his duffel bag down and closed the door behind him.

You stood off to the side, feeling like a sack of meat for all the enthusiasm Cadence showed you. You shouldn’t be jealous and well…no one said you had to be rational all of the time.

You stood rooted to the spot, knowing that whatever came next was going to hurt. It was going to break you. And yet it would shatter you if you didn’t.

Terry kept throwing glances your way like he knew something was up but couldn’t pinpoint what. He squinted at you and still paid attention to Cadence’s stream of consciousness.

“And then Mustard said that I was a booger, but that’s not true because boogers are green and I’m not green,” Cadence said.

“You tell Mustard to be nicer to you,” Terry said. He walked over to you and dropped a kiss to your forehead. His large palm cupped the back of your neck and he held his lips to your head. You closed your eyes and breathed in his uniquely manly scent.

“Welcome home,” you whispered. You leaned back and looked at him. He tilted his head and massaged the back of your neck. Your shoulders drooped as he rubbed, all ounces of tension leaving your body.

Why couldn’t he make this easier? It was just like your stupid heart to plum forget the past few months he was on base. You never could stand on business. Not with your mom and not with Terry. It was a curse, it truly was.

You and Terry fell into an unspoken truce while Cadence soaked up having her Daddy home. You spent most of the time in the living room, talking, laughing, and telling Terry about everything he missed. Everything you didn’t get to discuss over the computer.

Terry had to know something was up. He kept reaching out to you but you found ways to dodge or get up to do something. You weren’t trying to be a bitch. But you didn’t want to fall into his arms if he was only going to hate you later.

It’d be easier to stomach his hate and anger if you didn’t have his lingering touch on your skin. So you continued to move and fawn and shake him off anyway you could.

Cadence had to have Terry read her the bedtime story, not asking for you once. Not throwing a tantrum once. Not even a sniffle. Little booger.

You made some tea in the kitchen while Terry stayed with Cadence until she truly fell asleep. If she sensed Terry moving a muscle, she’d wake up groggily and ask for him. You waited at the dining table with a steaming mug of tea nestled between your palms but you swore you felt none of the heat.

Terry shuffled into the kitchen and sighed as he sat down in the chair. He looked so ragged. But beautiful as always. Loving Terry was like loving a precious jewel. It hurt to look at but it hurt worse to look away.

He leaned one arm on the table and leveled you with a stare. “What’s up with you?” He asked.

You took a deep breath and stared at your mug. “I have to talk to you about something important. And I didn’t want to get in the way of Cadence seeing you,” you said.

“What’s going on? Just tell me,” he said.

“I don’t want to be a single mother anymore,” you said. You held up your hand as Terry pitched forward, confusion twisting his features. “You’re an amazing father, Terry. But…I want my husband home. And I won’t make you choose between the Corps and me.”

“That’s not even a choice,” he said. You held up your hand again before he could continue to argue. Yes, it was a choice. He clearly loved what he did. And you knew he loved Cadence. But you were feeling pretty fucking unloved. You knew it wasn’t intentional on his part. You knew that if you just told him what’s up, he’d do everything in his power to make it up to you.

But you were terrified that he’d wake up one day and resent you for making him quit while he was ahead. You wouldn’t survive that.

“This isn’t something new for me. And I know it feels out of left field, but I think I’ve been feeling like this since we had Cadence. I kept waiting for you to say enough is enough and you’d resign from the service and come home. I kept waiting for you to make that decision but you never did. You kept going and going and going.”

“I did it for us. So that you and Cadence were taken care of,” he said.

“I know. Baby, I know,” you said. You gripped the mug hard enough to break it. The heat singed your palms but you let it. Your heart thumped too fast, stealing your breath. You vibrated with nervous energy, stomach twisting into painful knots.

You hated that confrontation made it seem like your insides wanted to crawl out of your skin. You hated the sinking feeling that you were hurting someone even though you were hurting too. You hated that your voice shook and tears threatened to fall.

“But you’re not here all the time. You don’t see that Cadence can be a fucking nightmare sometimes and it’s just me. I never thought it’d be just me when I had a family. I thought I’d have my husband with me. And I’m tired of feeling like a weak ass bitch for wanting that.

“And I get lonely. And sad. And tired. And I keep thinking that you’re not here. You’re off taking care of us and how can I be mad at you for that? But I am. I can’t stand it. I’m at my fucking limit, Terry, and I can’t keep going back and forth between hoping you came home and thinking it’d be easier if you didn’t.

“I won’t make you choose. Because I love you too fucking much,” you said. The tears came anyway, streaming down your face. Ugh. Now you were crying and he’d think you were manipulating him. It was the last thing you wanted him to think.

“You love me but you’re trying to leave me? This is fucking insane,” he said. He pushed away from the table and you nodded, looking back down at your mug. It was insane. You were definitely insane.

He paced the length of the kitchen, hands on his hips as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ unreal.”

You rubbed your head. “I can’t be stuck in limbo anymore. If I knew where I stood with you, I could move accordingly. But I’m not that strong. I am exhausted fighting my brain and my heart all the time,” you said.

“And what about what I want? What if I don’t want to let you go?” He asked. His voice strained and your heart ached for him. This was so fucking painful, like shards of glass embedded into every beat of your heart.

“I’m not happy. And I’m not trying to hurt you, it’s not you in particular that made me unhappy. I just am. I’m constantly feeling like a bad mother. I’m constantly feeling like a failed wife. Because why else aren’t you home? Why aren’t you here with me?” You sobbed harder, silently, tears falling in scalding streaks down your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” He asked. His voice rose and your tears only fell harder. You were just a failure of a person, not able to make your child happy. Your husband happy. Yourself happy.

“I didn’t want to make you choose,” you said.

“You keep saying that as if I wouldn’t choose you every time!” His voice rose higher, practically yelling at you and you swiped at your face. You hated crying. Pressure built in your face and made everything gross and full of snot.

Terry lifted fists to his face and knocked his forehead. “I knew something was up with you. I knew it and I just couldn’t name it. This is my fault, I know that,” he said.

“It’s not! You’re a good father,” you said.

“But a terrible husband?” He asked.

“I didn’t say that!” You said.

Terry paced the kitchen some more, rubbing furiously at his face. If he had his facial hair, he’d probably tug at it. “I thought you wanted me away. I thought…you hated having me here. It seemed like you never wanted to talk over the phone anymore or you barely looked at me on chat. I should’ve known that was my clue to check back in,” he said.

“Will you please stop saying it’s your fault? I’m in this relationship too and I haven’t been the best wife,” you said. You knew that you could have done better. Could have talked more openly. Told hm you were struggling over the years but you didn’t want him to feel guilty while he was at work. He was providing for you after all. And you thought you could be happy with that. But you weren’t. You were a basic simp. You wanted your husband. And you’d rather beg on the street with him than live in luxury without him.

“How could you say that? You’re an amazing wife. It’s my job to make sure that’s not a doubt in your mind,” he said.

You groaned. “M-Maybe we just need to cool off,” you said.

“No, no, we can fix this. Don’t shut me out!” He said.

“I can’t help it!” You yelled.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know!” You swiped angrily at your tears. “Because I’m broken? Because I’m a horrible person? I don’t know! I don’t know how to be happy. I don’t know how to let things go. I don’t know how to live and let live. My brain is fucking mean and every time we get off the phone, I start worrying that I’m bugging you? Holding you back? Am I selfish for wanting you at the cost of my happiness? Is that self love or destruction? I can’t fucking tell anymore, Terry, and it scares the hell out of me.”

You stood up and turned away from him, looking down at your left hand. You looked at the simple band he got when he first proposed. He promised to replace it as soon as you had two nickels to rub together but you told him not to bother. The band was to deter other men from talking crazy to what belonged to him. You just wanted him.

You never took it off. Never. It was practically glued to your finger. But you turned around and slipped it off.

Terry stood up and backed away. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he seethed.

His eyes were a raging storm, swirling with mixed emotions. His shapely eyebrows were curved downward, nostrils flaring. If you waved a red flag, he would surely charge you.

“I know I’ve been a shit husband. I…used the military as an excuse. That maybe we just worked better apart. But all I’ve been doing is hurting us both. Creating this distance between us. I want nothing more than to come home to you and Cadence. I’m on leave. We can talk this out,” he said.

“All you’re going to do is convince me that things will change. And the next time you go back to work, we’re back to the same shit. What kind of life is that?”

“I’ll put in my papers tomorrow. I’ll get a local job,” he said.

“And what will you say when you wake up years from now resenting me?” You asked.

“What the fuck is it going to take for you to believe me?” He asked.

You sighed. “I don’t know,” you said. You looked down at your feet. What would convince you? You weren’t sure. You didn’t want Terry to jump through hoops to prove that he was still the man you were in love with.

You lifted your gaze to him just in time to see him swipe at a lone tear halfway down his cheek. He stepped closer and you tensed, waiting for him to explode. To yell or scream or call you out of your name. But your husband would never.

Instead, he paused just beside you, facing forward. He didn’t move to touch you. Didn’t press for more contact than what you were willing to give at the moment. You felt fragile. Raw. Like you could collapse at any moment.

“Don’t you ever take that ring off your finger. I’m not done fighting for us. And until you figure out what it will take, I’m not letting you go. I swear to you I’ll never leave you and Cadence. Both of you are my reason for living and if it takes my last breath, we’ll be a family again. I’ll stay at Mike’s for a while, but I’ll be back in the morning to tell Cadence myself,” he said.

He walked out of the kitchen and like the coward you were, you let him. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. Because this was true agony. This was a hell of your own making and you still weren’t sure what the fuck was wrong with you.

Maybe you truly were that broken.

The end, end.

WHEW. I'm sorry, my loves. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist:

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@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

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@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

260 notes · View notes

vettelsvee · 6 months ago

Note

Hey, how's it going?I have been thinking, for me, Seb gives off a GREAT vibe of a big family guy, who has a big family with the person he loves, my opinion of course. Could you write something like this?

E a propósito, adoro tudo o que você escreve!!

ROADTRIP TO MONACO | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

retired sebastian vettel x wife!reader

word count: 2894

summary: seb and a pregnant y/n go and have a trip to monaco with their three little ones after seb's retirement

warnings: none, just mentions of pregnancy sickness as y/n is on her first term of her pregnancy! fluff, lots of fluff, and dad!seb

a/n: i love that seb. i actually love seb and oscar so much that the only thing i want to do is write about them. i'll be waiting your feedback, comments and requests please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated (also, so close to 1k! tysm to you all because i most of the times feel surreal with all of this and how much you seem to enjoy my fics). also, anon: hope you like this!

The soft melody of an alarm broke through the darkness of the bedroom Sebastian and you shared around one-thirty in the morning, interrupting the couple's deep sleep. Sebastian, still startled by the noise, managed to quickly stretch his arm to turn off the alarm in an attempt to fully wake up. Meanwhile, you rubbed your eyes, fighting against the tiredness.

"Is it already time to get up, sunshine?" you asked sleepily.

"Yes, darling, it's time," Seb nodded as he sat up in bed. "If we want to get to Monaco on time and avoid Charles from killing us. We should leave in about an hour and a half."

You yawned, curling up under the blankets.

"But it's too early, love… Don't you think we could, and should, sleep a little longer?"

Sebastian approached you and gently stroked your hair. He was aware that the fourth pregnancy was being a bit challenging for you compared to the previous three, despite being only in the second month.

If fatigue, nausea and dizziness were making life difficult for you at the moment, he didn't want to imagine how you would feel four months from now.

"Y/N, sweetheart, don't worry. Let me be in charge of waking up the kids and getting everything ready. You stay here and rest a little longer, okay? I promise I'll let you know when everything is ready so you only have to get in the car."

You looked at him with a tired but grateful expression. Still, you knew you had to help prepare the final details of the trip, and most importantly, make sure the kids were perfectly ready..

"Are you sure? I don't want you to take on all the work, really," you expressed with concern in your voice. "Even though I'm tired, I can help you..."

"I'm absolutely sure, darling," the man interrupted, smiling and giving you a warm kiss on the forehead. "These are the kinds of things I retired for, so focus on going back to sleep, alright? I'll see you in a bit, liebe."

"Sebastian…" you spoke again. "I'm really serious: we're in this together, and I don't want you to handle everything alone. It's a family trip, not a trip of Seb with his three kids. I want to help."

He admired your determination, but he wanted you to be treated as you deserved.

"I know, Y/N," he explained, "but I also know how tired you are. Really, allow yourself not to worry about your kids for once. I promise I'll wake you up soon enough so you can get ready."

You nodded, trying to avoid continuing the conversation and settling back into bed, closing your eyes and trying to sleep without thinking about how long your husband might take to prepare your kids.

Meanwhile, Sebastian left the room with determination and headed towards the children's rooms. Emily, Charlotte and Matilda slept all in different rooms, so he went from door to door, opening them gently and affectionately, and then approaching each bed.

He first woke up Charlotte, the middle one, who rubbed her eyes and looked at her father, confused.

"Dad, what's going on?" she asked, puzzled. "Did you have a nightmare and want to sleep with me? Or is mom having the baby?"

"No, no," Sebastian chuckled at his seven-year-old daughter's antics. "It's time to wake up. Remember we're going to Monaco today."

The little girl's eyes lit up immediately.

"Yes, that's right! We're going to your old workplace!"

After letting her fully wake up, the head of the family went to the room of the youngest, Matilda, who was four years old.

"Matilda, wake up, honey," whispered Vettel, giving her a gentle tap on her shoulder. "We have an exciting day ahead. We're going to see those fast cars daddy used to drive."

The youngest Vettel lazily stretched in his small bed and yawned. Sebastian then smiled, picking her up while she just wanted to hug Seb.

"That's what I like to see, little one," he commented, tousling her hair. "Let me dress you so mom doesn't have to worry too much, okay?"

Both the children and Sebastian hurried to get ready. There was no doubt that, despite the sleepiness, the family was full of energy and excitement for what awaited them in the country about seven hours from their residence.

After also waking up Emily, your eldest, and making sure all of them were ready, Seb put cartoons on the living room TV to keep the children entertained and returned to his room, where you were still resting, seemingly peacefully asleep.

"Honey, the kids are ready. They're waiting for us in the living room. Are you feeling better?" he whispered as softly as he could, gently stroking your arm.

You opened her eyes and sat up in bed, stretching aggressively. “Thank you so much for getting our little devils ready, I owe you one."

He tenderly kissed you on the lips.

"You don't owe me anything, you did enough effort to bring them into the world and act as both father and mother when I wasn't around. Let me help you get ready, we have a great day ahead."

Quickly, Seb helped you change you clothes, gently touching your small but already slightly prominent pregnant belly. Once you were finally dressed in sportswear for comfort, you both walked hand in hand out of the room and headed to the living room, where your children were already waiting impatiently.

After making sure everything was ready and the kids had no further needs, you all headed to the garage, quickly getting into the family car. While Sebastian made sure the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk, you took care of buckling the children up and offering them a few games or movies to keep them entertained on the way, although you were quite aware they would end up asleep.

"Are you all ready?" you inquired, turning around from the passenger seat and looking at her children with a smile as Seb began to start the car.

"Yes, mommy, let's go!" exclaimed little Matilda, who received cheers from her sisters.

With the car's engine purring softly, they set off on the Swiss roads amidst the darkness of the night, which, despite being synonymous with tiredness, brought a surge of energy to the youngest members of the family, where conversations and plans for Monaco came to the forefront.

"Do you think grandpa Norbert is going to come, Dad? I heard you talking to him the other day," exclaimed Charlotte, once again showing her admiration for Sebastian's sister. "Is grandma Heike coming too?"

"I want to hear the loud noises of the cars and see how fast they go," Emily added immediately, excited.

Sebastian smiled as he drove, very happy to hear the excitement of his children and, especially, to be sharing such an experience with you all not only after his retirement.

As the hours went by, tiredness arrived, and the children fell asleep. Quite the opposite happened with you: you woke up when you no longer heard the sudden conversations between the siblings. As you progressed along the winding roads and approached Monegasque territory, the sky began to lighten, giving them a beautiful sunrise.

"Look, honey, the sun is rising," you commented to Seb, pointing to the horizon stained with warm colors. "I can't believe we're finally arriving in Monaco after weeks of waiting..."

After a couple more hours of driving, and lively conversation among the family resulting from a brief stop for breakfast and in your case, vomiting a couple of times, you arrived in Monaco. The city looked completely different from any other time of the year as the streets were adorned with flags and banners for the Grand Prix. Furthermore, the grandstands, the paddock, and the countless yachts docked in the harbor made Monte Carlo seem even richer than it already was.

"We're here, guys," Sebastian announced to his children sweetly. "If you need something, just make sure to tell me, alright?”

Seb parked the Mercedes in a parking lot reserved for VIP guests, and then got out of the car to help you. He made then a phone call, possibly to Leclerc, your kids began to stroke your belly. You reacted early and quickly moved them away, aware that journalists and paparazzi could discover the secret.

"Let's follow dad, guys," you whispered to them, getting down to their level. "And remember: no one, not Uncle Charles or anyone who asks you, can know that dad and I have made a little baby, okay?"

The children nodded in response to your question, which somewhat reassured you were still nervous. However, the excitement began to set in as you walked alongside your kids, following Seb towards the place where the free practice sessions would take place, partially pushing aside your worries. The sound of the engines grew louder with each step you took, with the youngest of the family covering her ears with his little hands.

"Look, mommy: there's the Ferrari team!" exclaimed Emily pointing towards the red team's garage.

Charles appeared in his racing suit, as Free Practice was set to begin in just thirty minutes.

As soon as he spotted your husband, who was slightly ahead of all of you, he raised his arms in the air with great joy at seeing him again on the circuits, a wide smile adorning his face.

"Charles!" exclaimed Seb when he finally reached the Monegasque, giving him a strong hug. "Thank you so much for inviting us. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. The kids are very excited to be here, and especially to see you."

Leclerc returned the hug to the German, reminiscing about the two years they were teammates.

"You don't have to thank me, Seb," replied the Ferrari driver. "I'm sure Emily and Charlie remember something, but I know it's all new for Matilda. Anyway, I'm sure they'll enjoy it like the first time, just like Y/N!"

As the conversation continued between the two men, you and the kids surrounded the Ferrari driver, who felt a bit shy seeing the children's excited faces.

"Thank you, Charles," you expressed with your little ones embracing you somewhat shyly. "We're very grateful that you made it possible for us to come," you leaned closer to the Monegasque and whispered: "and don't tell anyone, but despite Ferrari's shitty strategies, you're doing great."

After a few minutes of conversation catching up on your respective live, and where Seb almost revealed you were expecting your fourth child, Charlotte, Emily and Matilda crowded around Charles, excited to see their father's former teammate again. Despite the constant denials from the team engineers, he managed to let your kids have a close look at his car.

"Look," said Charles, excitedly, pointing to the vehicle, "this is the car I'll be practicing with today, and that's my teammate's, Carlos," he pointed to the car beside it. "What do you think?"

The children's eyes widened with passion as they began to examine the car closely.

"Can we touch it, Uncle Charles?" asked the four-year-old, grabbing Leclerc's race suit pants.

Charles smiled, nodding enthusiastically, inwardly melting at the scene he was witnessing. He wished he could see himself like that with Olivia in a few years.

"Of course, but do it quickly so you father doesn’t get fined again," he said jokingly.

While the kids explored the car, and after you joined them shortly after, Charles and Seb began to converse animatedly yet seriously about the expectations for the Grand Prix and the sensations he had so far in the 2024 Formula 1 season.

The sudden hustle in the Ferrari garage made it clear that Free Practice 1 was about to begin. Sebastian and Charles had their conversation interrupted when Leclerc's beloved engineer insisted he get into the car as soon as possible. It was finally time for you to head to the corresponding grandstand to enjoy the practice session.

The Monegasque was forced, much to his regret, to interrupt his conversation with the your husband. Seb, however, understood, and immediately turned to you all, who were eagerly waiting to go to the best spot to watch the cars go around.

"Come with me, kids," notedhim, "it's time to go up to the VIP grandstand to get a better view of the session."

Taking Matilda in his arms, holding his daughters' hands with his free hand, and with you on his left, you all formed a little chain to avoid getting lost in the commotion on you way to the designated spot.

You were moved by the scene you were witnessing. Holding onto Seb's free arm, you tried to control your tears as your followed your husband's lead.

Minutes later, you had found your reserved seats, but numerous fans who had recognized Seb had delayed him. You were used to this, as were your kids. Moreover, none of your minded as they were aware that Seb had done great things for and in the world of motorsport.

“Look dad!”, exclaimed Emily excitedly as her father sat down next to her, “That's Charles! He's going really fast!”

"Yes, he's going fast indeed, Emily," Seb answered, still in shock at what he was witnessing after many time.

As the practice hour progressed, you captured some moments of the family with your camera, all of them fully caught up in the energy emanating from the circuit at that moment. The applause and words of encouragement, though impossible to hear for the drivers, were felt as the local hero made his appearance on the track.

When it came to an end, faster than they thought, you all made your way back to the Ferrari garage, where Charles had promised to meet his former teammate after the session.

Once there, you saw the blue-eyed with his girlfriend, Alexandra, engaged in lively conversation, likely about what had happened on the track during the previous hour. Charles, upon seeing Sebastian with you at the garage door, hurried over as fast as he could.

"Seb, I thought you'd be gone!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I didn't get to see you: you know, speed problems," he laughed at his own bad joke, "but I'm sure you had a good time, and your amazing wife and kids did too, right?"

Matilda and Charlotte shouted in unison. You and Emily nodded quickly.

"I'm really impressed, Charles," Vettel said enthusiastically. "Apart from the track being in wonderful condition, the weather cooperating, and not having too many idiots running around today, your performance has been incredible."

Alex joined the conversation, greeting your and the kids first, and then Seb.

"It's been wonderful seeing you in the stands. I wish I didn't have to stay locked up in the garage all day, but there are these crazy Charles fangirls out there..." she joked.

You laughed at the comment. If she only knew all that you had to go through in the early years of your relationship with Seb…

"Anyways…" Leclerc began, placing his arm around his girlfriend's waist. "Alex and I have been talking these past few days and we'd like to ask you if you'd like to join us for dinner tonight. It would be nice for us to spend some time together, just relaxing, and celebrate that you've finally come back around here," he explained, looking directly at your husband.

"But really, if it's any inconvenience for you," she hurried to add, "or if you need to head back home or..."

Sebastian looked at you, who nodded excitedly at the proposal.

"It would be an honor, Charles."

After exchanging details for the dinner, they bid farewell momentarily due to Leclerc's press commitments. During that time, you returned to the hotel where you would stay for a couple of days to freshen up and prepare for dinner, as managing three children wasn't an easy or simple task.

When you met again, this time at the restaurant, you were warmly welcomed by its members. Dinner unfolded amid laughter and lively conversations, mostly revolving around Formula 1 anecdotes and your private lives.

As the night progressed, Seb and Charles delved into deeper topics about the world that absorbed so much of their lives. Alex and you, on the other hand, got to know each other more and realized they had more in common than you initially thought.

The children, meanwhile, were having the time of their lives: Charlie, Emily, and Matilda, who fell asleep early, spent the night playing games with the young couple, who still seemed like kids in your eyes.

"I hope you've enjoyed the day, guys," Charles said, raising his glass of wine. "I hope we can enjoy many more moments together, especially when the little one comes because, Y/N, I know there’s a reason why you’re not drinking alcohol when you like wine so much."

"Cheers!" you all exclaimed while you tried not to get nervous and more shy than you actually were, laughing at the revealed secret.

As you continued to enjoy the delicious food, along with the laughter and entertaining stories, you knew that trip to Monaco would become a cherished memory in the years to come. There was no doubt you should definitely do this more often and, above all, around the world if given the chance, something you had been waiting for years.

323 notes · View notes

scribbly-artist · 1 month ago

Text

Gently, Please

Summary: Jayce is at a breaking point now that he’s on the council, he wasn’t expecting all of this responsibility put onto him. He goes to the place (and the person) that puts him most at ease.

Author’s Notes: For some reason I struggled with this one and I wasn’t really sure why. I feel like they’re a bit OOC, but you guys can judge that or let me know if I’m overthinking it. 🤔 I feel like I write a lot of angst/comfort tickles, someone should tell me to write some sass with Jayce and Viktor one day, I feel like it’d be fun.

Thanks to the anon for giving me this prompt! I hope you like it. :)

Words: ~1,300 | AO3 Link

Jayce couldn't take much more.

He missed being in the lab with his partner. Being in the council was fine, he supposed. It gave him a lot of opportunities to help with their Hextech research outside of the lab. Getting investors and funding really helped.

But honestly? He'd rather be in the lab.

That's how he always felt - he wasn't used to telling others what to do, wasn't used to all this responsibility. He needed a break, even for an afternoon.

And that's what he intended on doing as he made his way to the lab - his second home - pushing the doors open upon entry.

Viktor was working away - as usual, he practically lived here - his back turned to Jayce. As Jayce approached, he could see Viktor was messing with… some sort of new device at the workbench.

The sound of Jayce’s footsteps alerted Viktor, resulting in him swivelling around in his chair, pushing his goggles up to his forehead.

“Hello, stranger,” he commented, looking Jayce up and down. “I haven't seen you in a while - mm, how are things with the council?”

Jayce’s expression changed to something troubled. “It's a lot to take in. I'm not used to all of this. If I'm being honest, I'd rather be here.”

“Would you be comfortable talking about it?” Viktor enquired, using his cane to lift himself off his seat, and then lifting himself to sit up on the workbench, waving a hand to offer Jayce his seat.

Jayce sat down, the chair bouncing a little as he lowered his weight on it.

“I didn’t ask to be on the council. I know there’s a lot of benefits to it. For our research, for me, for you. This is all new to me, though.” Jayce leaned over, laying his head down on Viktor’s lap, the other placing a loving hand gently on his head. “I’m a symbol - an icon now. I’m the Man of Progress, making Piltover’s future brighter. But it’s a lot of responsibility I didn’t ask for.” Jayce let out a sigh as he finished speaking.

“It’s a lot to take on, that’s why I try to not be in the public eye,” Viktor spoke, carding his fingers through Jayce’s hair. Viktor knew it soothed him in times of heavy stress. “I apologise for that. Perhaps if I did, you wouldn’t be bearing this feeling all alone.”

“No, Vik, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable having so many eyes on you,” Jayce moved one of his hands to rest on Viktor’s knee. “I just have to bear it. For us, for our work. For our Hextech dream.”

“I’m always in the lab if you need someone to discuss this with, Jayce. All you need to do is ask, and I will always assist you when you need it.”

“I’m grateful you’re on my side, Viktor.” Letting out a relieved sigh, Jayce closed his eyes. “It’s good to get things off my chest. Though, it didn’t make me feel as good as I thought it would.”

“Mm, Is there anything I can do to make it better perhaps?” Asked Viktor, his fingers tangled in Jayce’s hair.

Jayce thought for a moment. Well, he noticed there was always something Viktor would do for Jayce whenever he was stressed out. He always struggled to find the words to ask, though…

“Can you do… that thing?” Asked Jayce, craning his head so he could look up at Viktor.

Viktor raised a questioning eyebrow. “That ‘thing’?”

“Yeah, you know, that thing you always do whenever I'm stressed out of my mind… or when I’m annoying you too much.”

Viktor tilted his head in confusion at first. He had to flip through his memory for this one.

Whenever Jayce was being stubborn or particularly irritable, mainly when Jayce was running low on sleep, Viktor had a few tricks up his sleeve to try to make Jayce relax. Sometimes, he had to pull out the big guns… ah, he remembered.

Jayce wanted Viktor to tickle him. He realised Jayce had the most roundabout way of asking for it, though…

“Ehh, you can use your words, you know.” Viktor had to tease Jayce just a little with a chuckle.

Jayce moved his hand to cover his eyes with the back of it, his cheeks a little red from the conversation. “It's embarrassing… it makes me feel weak. But I never seem to mind whenever you do it.”

Viktor’s hand trailed from Jayce’s head to the nape of his partner’s neck, scribbling his fingers against the skin. “Well, how could I decline?”

Jayce was already starting to crack up from the small simple touch alone. “Ahaha, can you just– hehehe, be gentle?”

Viktor scoffed at that. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yeheheah, but extra gentle thihihis time.” Was Jayce’s giggly request.

“Whatever you say.” Gently pushing Jayce’s head so Viktor could slide off the bench, he propped his cane off to the side so he could use both hands. He reached forward, gently wiggling his fingers against Jayce’s sides.

Jayce was already giggling, even more so now. He reached out and latched his hands on Viktor’s wrists, but made no attempt to move his hands away. In fact, it was to keep Viktor’s hands in place. Viktor’s hands moved up to gently squeeze at Jayce’s ribs, causing Jayce to throw his head back and laugh.

“You know… mhm, whenever you want this, you can just say the word. You don’t have to bug me while I’m trying to concentrate. And you don’t have to beat around the bush when you’re upset, you understand? Even without saying it directly, I can always tell when you’re in a mood… for this.” Viktor wanted to know Jayce was safe to tell him these things.

Jayce nodded his head in reply, scrunching up his nose when Viktor hit a particularly sensitive rib. Viktor always liked to watch his face change whenever he tickled him. He looked different with a carefree smile stretched across his face.

Viktor started to slow down, figuring that Jayce had had enough. He pulled his hands away, placing them on his hips instead. “How was that? Did it make you feel better?”

Jayce was slowly catching his breath, even gently tickling took his breath away. “Yehehes, thank you, V…” he gazed up at Viktor with a smile, getting up from the chair.

“It’s definitely a strange thing to ask to make yourself feel better… but it makes sense when it’s you, somehow. Very odd, but endearing.” Viktor gently teased and gave a small smile.

Jayce’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest at Viktor’s comments, his face growing more beet red. “Ahem, anyway… before anyone starts looking for me, why don’t I help you out for a while? Knowing Mel, she’ll start wondering where I am.”

“Of course, I’d be pleased. You haven’t been in the lab for quite a while now. I appreciate the assistance, and the company.”

They both wandered over to the blackboard to discuss some new ideas for Hextech. They could be lab partners for a little while longer.

He really missed this.

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alchemistc · 7 months ago

Text

Catie's Big Ass bucktommy fic rec (Part One)

So I'm not gonna lie, I have most of these fics priv. bookmarked because I HAVEN'T COMMENTED ON THEM YET AND I FEEL REALLY GUILTY ABOUT THAT. But more than one anon has asked for this and it tickles me pink that y'all like my writing enough to trust in my recs. So. Please, please, be better than I am and make sure to kudos and comment if you enjoy any of these works.

(Guys, there are SO MANY amazing writers in this fandom. So many truly breathtaking fics already. I got two hours into this and realized I was going to need to split this into parts because I have too many things to say about each of these and I want to do them all justice.)

Writers you can trust in:

@rcmclachlan /ao3 : I will sing RC's praises to the moon and back. There is something about the way RC injects humor into the tiniest of lines that makes me want to scream into a pillow until I pass out. You will see more than one of RC's fics in this list.

@kirkaut /ao3: kirkaut is the reason I jumped on this bandwagon. The unhinged spiral into LFJr obsession and the prevalence of well thought out meta and incredibly hot fic drew me in. If you are not following kirkaut, change that now.

@26-cats-in-a-trenchcoat / catfud_ohplease on ao3: Devastating prose. The ability to turn a theme on a dime and STAB YOU IN THE HEART with it. Mac owns my whole soul when it comes to really scratching that itch behind my eyelids for thematic imagery and really creative ideas for fic that aren't just run-of-the-mill smut/angst/fluff.

@devirnis / ao3: Ali only has one bucktommy fic up on ao3 but it is devine and I love it. Ali is also the only writer who has tempted me into reading buddie. This is not an indictment on buddie fandom or buddie fic writers in general, I just tend to be a one ship kinda gal and I don't really dive into fic for a ship I don't vibe with. Ali's writing has made me reconsider this position.

@beefcakekinard / thingbe on ao3: The domesticity. Literally just reread one of Rose's fics this morning and HAD to comment on it again because it made me want to fling myself to Jupiter.

(This is not a comprehensive list, but I just realized how many fics I have already bookmarked for bucktommy and I'm already under a readmore.)

Fics that make my brain go brrrr:

only fools rush in - somnum365 ( @firehose118)

Tommy lets Buck set the pace. Buck is ready for something.

Super hot and all about checking in. I've got a thing for discovering sex with a partner starting out with frottage and this delivers. The characterizations are so great.

Colin Firth Thinks You're Hot - IDontGoHereEither (@herrmannhalsteadproduction)

Buck is late for a special date night with Tommy, but he still stops to help a stranger stuck on the side of the road. Luckily, that stranger is about to help HIM.

Cute as fuck with a super fun guest star. Who doesn't want Mr. Darcy to think your boyfriend is hot?

sad girl poetic thursday night - screamlet

Date night menu: pasta primavera and emotional unpacking.

There's something about the pacing of this that sent me into a tailspin. The stream of consciousness that actually bleeds from the dialogue into the action and vice versa. Hng.

I Was Only Falling In Love - Princessfbi (@princessfbi)

Tommy in crisis mode.

There's a moment in this fic where Eddie has to pull Tommy back from the precipice of something and it lives entirely rent free in my head, forever and ever amen. The firefam taking care of Buck by taking care of Tommy.

let me count the ways - ashesandhalefire

Buck and Tommy in the aftermath of a good evening are chattier than they probably reasonably should be

There is something about this fic that feels like the witching hour is upon you, like you could live in this little pocket world Buck and Tommy have created for themselves forever. The dialogue is fantastic, and the way they communicate with each other is just *chefs kiss*

let's make it cinematic - kirkaut

Tommy helps Buck deal with some of his impotent rage in the face of the Gerrard of it all.

Listen, I do not have a praise kink. This kinda makes me wish I did.

"[...]Everything is.” He circles a finger around in the air. “It’s very spinny.” - this line of dialogue came for my fucking throat.

Sick with it - Mellow_Yellow

what if in an alternate universe babyslut Buck joined the 118 when Tommy was still in his closeted asshole era and they had a torrid affair??

The way this is a little fucked up. The way the characterizations aren't exactly familiar because they haven't aged into what we know them as in current canon. The way you can see in every broken line and every stutter step that Tommy is falling for Evan and has No Fucking Idea what to do with that. Ugh. Best Met Earlier AU I've ever read.

He blinked as Tommy walked by, eyes sliding closed again before he left. He felt a light touch on the top of his head but figured he was imagining it. He couldn’t think of anyone at the 118 who would touch him that carefully. - just absolutely fucking end me they're so good/bad for each other

A Full Body Workout - Persiflager

Tommy and Buck spend a day trying to distract Eddie from the *gestures vaguely* all of it.

The way this is so quiet in the way it shows you how Tommy and Buck care for each other. The way they are down bad but still so hyperaware of the pace they've set, the things they've talked about. The way they take care of their friend here. I'm obsessed with the tone of this one. Also, as a general theme, nothing draws me in more than well thought out dialogue, and this one has some fucking GREAT dialogue.

Your love is better than ice cream - Cecily_v, liminalmemories

An alternative meet-cute, where-in Tommy doesn’t know the 118 and decides Buck is worth it anyway. Buck is confused but figures some things out.

There is so much I love about this AU. How they meet. How their relationship progresses. How it feels glacially slow in comparison to the canon storyline but also how in character they both are. The foundation of their love in this fic is downright eatable.

just couldn't fall til we met - thingbe (@beefcakekinard)

Buck and Tommy spend a quiet morning in together.

This is the one that crossed my dash earlier today and made me eat fucking glass on reread. The closeness. The way they're both so tactile. The blink and you'll miss it hints at a life being built together. Eating this UP every time I read it.

The Premium Twunk Appreciation Society, President: Tommy Kinard - everythingremainsconnected

5 times Tommy almost faints like a Victorian maiden at the sight of Buck’s flesh, and 1 time he can do something about it.

“Hey,” Evan said, shoving Eddie out of the way and filling the screen with his playful glare, “organise bro time on your own time, I’m on the phone with– with Tommy.”

“With who?” Eddie repeated. Tommy didn’t need to see his face to hear the fondness in the mocking. “Who’s on the phone? I didn’t quite catch that.”

- They are so stupid about each other in this fic, please read it and watch steam blow out your ears at how sweet and hot and down bad for each other they are.

desire (i want to turn into you) - chthonicheart

The first time Buck’s really able to bury his face between a man’s tits, he nearly cries.

pwp but with a whole heaping of character study. HOT.

rule four (you were only waiting for this moment to arise) - middyblue (daisyblaine) [@middyblue]

Tommy has doubts.

There is a general mood to this piece that feels heavy in a way I can't quite explain. There was a weight on my chest all the way through this in the BEST way possible. The way Tommy navigates his mind and struggles to trust the little slice of peace he and Buck have carved out is just mindbogglingly beautiful.

Come Fly The Friendly Skies - RC_McLachlan (@rcmclachlan)

Buck meets their rescue mission's would-be pilot and is extremely normal about it.

"Throttling is what I'm gonna do to you if you don't shut up and let the nice man steal a helicopter for us,"

WHEN I TELL YOU I AM INCANDESCENT WITH RAGE over how funny and insightful this fic is.

Every characterization is picture perfect.

Maddie gives great hugs, but she's so small; if she had this guy's build and could basically fold Buck into her like an old blanket, they'd have to pry him out of her arms with the jaws of life.

In the back of Buck's mind, in a place he hasn't discovered, he's already picked out a venue and chosen his centerpieces. He's mentally putting together seating arrangements. This line of Buck's thoughts on Tommy Kinard told me so.

Please read this and join me in trying to destroy RC with my mind (lovingly).

little by little - MediaWhore

Buck & Tommy, during and after the wedding.

There is something so soft and gentle about this fic. The way Tommy just gives in to the exhaustion and props himself up against Buck because he knows he'll be able to take the weight (he wants to take the weight and Tommy knows it). The quiet flirting, the way they take care of one another. The jumpscare of Marge and Phil and how this fic is right at the edges of exploring that but Buck has me important priorities.

“It was badly done,” - the way this is so in character for Ma Buckley and the way it made me want to SHAKE HER TIL HER TENDONS SHATTERED AND SHE CRUMBLED LIKE A SATISFYING CASINO IMPLOSION

Soft and heartbreaking and mending all at once.

while you arranged flowers - newtkelly

Buck’s got a wedding date, but as far as today goes, he’s also got a regular one.

The way I want to wrap this Buck up tenderly and hide him from the people in his life who DON'T DESERVE HIS AFFECTION, HIS LOVE, HIS JOY.

The non-urgency of this, the absolute too-much-too-soon he's dealing with in his own mind while he grapples with the reality of seizing a second chance with both hands and getting to explore himself within the confines of a very lovely, very sweet and kind, VERY HOT man he wants to get on his knees for.

Beautiful prose, excellent dialogue, an insightful character study.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic rec #catie's babtfr #i you happen to find yourself on here and i haven't included a tumblr link lemme know #i did my best to search profiles and beg. and end notes but i know i probably missed one or two of you #thanks nonny for pointing out my misspelling of princessfbi. 'preciate you #i'm collecting your tumblr usernames like pokemon every time i come across you in the tags. jsyk

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olderthannetfic · 3 months ago

Note

It has already begun!

No offense, but I don't "Underage Sex" won't be the clarification you think it is since that tag can also apply to romance. There's gonna be a lot of confusion about this and people won't know whether to trigger tag for underage if it's an only-romance fic. Not the end of the world, but I would probably reconsider it.

(The comment was deleted a minute after I grabbed it, but it was made by someone with 668 works on AO3. 668! You'd think that after so long on the site, they'd know its rules.)

I second this. I've written a few underage fics where they don't end up having sex until years later, when the character in question is no longer underage. Or there's no sex at all, but a relationship/situationship is still very apparent. But I still tag it because it very much counts as underage, even if no sexual acts occur. This is just going to lead to unnecessary ambiguity and people running into content they don't want to read.

I don't know how helpful the underage change will be since underage *romance* exists as well in a different context and space than underage sex, since the content warning underage felt like an umbrella term for 'underage (relationship of some kind)'. otherwise if nothing really changes besides making the TOS more clear and userfriendly, this seems pretty good

I don't want underage to be changed tho, I like warnings that can accompass for all underage relationships, not just the s*xual part. Otherwise later on if fics have underage relationships w/o s*x, I wouldn't know and it would be a major jumpscare to come upon. It feels really specific and limiting.

I like the changes, but I do want to point out that for the Underage thing, Sex would then just seem to include that and not romance, too; maybe changing it to Non-Platonic Underage Relationships or something along those lines might be better?

And in the next hours and days, there will probably be a lot more stuff from people who haven't the faintest clue why archive warnings exist or how to use AO3 tags.

Ooh, anon has brought us the good stuff.

~felt like an umbrella term~

No one cares what it felt like to you! The actual rules have not changed!

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 10 months ago

Text

Cats&Coffee - C.SC

😻Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) with fem!reader 😺What: A lot of my brand of humour, perhaps borderline crack? Firefighter!Seungcheol. Business owner!Reader. Sort of a coffee shop au. Brother's best friend au. Reader is Shua's twin. [Simp!Chan as a background character but Simp!Chan is very important to me okay.] 😸Wordcount: 5.8k 🐱Warnings: Fire/arson mentions- nobody is hurt though and its not the main characters. Profanity. A lot of suggestive comments but no smut. More like sexual conversations. Reader is thirsty. Reader is kind of a brat but playfully. Mentions of bruises. Seungcheol calls reader princess&baby once. Implied Dom!Seungcheol but not actually shown. Let me know if I've missed any warnings, I'm terrible at knowing what to mention!

Summary; Okay, so here's the situation; you're just amusedly watching your best friend where he's perched up on a branch trying to convince the little cute fluff ball you are supposedly rescuing to get down, when some very attractive firefighters arrive to save the day. Low and behold, the leader of the bunch is the manifestation of your wettest wildest dreams; all buff and a little cocky and you're pretty certain he's showing off in that tight t-shirt for you. Do you; A- approach and flirt until he throws you over his shoulder or B- approach and flirt, and then completely forget to exchange numbers and only realise when he was long gone and then regret your very existence for the foreseeable future?

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist- Ao3 link

A/N; This all came from one of @sluttywoozi 's anon asks I saw that I then got caught on because they mentioned firefighter!Cheol. I don't have the link to the original ask but it's on her account! So inspiration credit goes to that anon!

Edited: 23/12/24

Lee Seokmin is probably the single sweetest person in the entire universe and everyone who meets the man will wholeheartedly agree. It is a unanimous decision that the man can do no wrong.

So, it's not his fault that the newest member of your cat sanctuary made a run for it out of the front door, which Seokmin hadn't closed behind him quickly enough, even though it kind of is. But nobody will ever say that, least of all to the Angel-On-Earth.

“I'm so sorry,” Seokmin apologises for perhaps the tenth time when he shuffles over to your side with his phone clutched in his hands and big, beautiful eyes staring up in a mix of worry and guilt at where Junhui is half wrapped around the branch under him with one hand outstretched trying to coax the brown ball of matted fluff to him.

“It's not your fault,” you assure, blindly reaching out to put a reassuring hand on Seokmin's left shoulder; you are too visually engrossed in what your best friend is doing in the tree to look over at Seokmin.

It isn't the first time that Junhui has climbed a tree to save a cat, or some other kind of dramatic action for the sake of a cat, but it never fails to amuse you highly.

“I should've closed the door,” Seokmin continues, lips pursed in a guilty little pout.

“It's fine, Seokie; Jun's part cat, he's made to climb trees.”

“Aren't cats really bad at getting down from trees?”

“No, they're actually good at climbing down.”

“Then why did Jun climb up after that one?”

“Because he's an idiot,” you snigger, your grin growing wider when your best friend yelps a little as he stretches too far and almost falls.

Well, almost is quite a stretch as his long legs are wrapped entirely securely around the branch and so is half of his left arm, but you're sure that it felt like he was about to fall at least.

“Hey!” Hansol calls, sticking his head out of the entrance door to the coffee shop you own with Junhui, though the main focus of Cats&Coffee is actually the sanctuary at the back.

Well, for you two and the staff, it is the main focus. You all are more than aware that the majority of the customers only visit the coffee shop with the intention of eyeing up the barista and well, you don't entirely blame them; Jeon Wonwoo is an unfairly attractive man.

“I'm going to go into your bag to get your notes, hyung!”

“Okay!” Seokmin calls back, giving Hansol a thumbs up in approval. Hansol returns the hand gesture and then goes back into the store, entirely oblivious to the customers ogling him.

Okay, so the customers don't just turn up for Wonwoo; they turn up for all of the men who are regularly in the building. But as Wonwoo is the sole barista and always in the shop out front and not the sanctuary out back mostly out of sight, you're pretty valid in saying the customers come for him.

“Do something!” Junhui calls after a few more attempts to reach the cat. You take your phone out and take a few pictures of your best friend. “Not what I meant!”

“I'm sending them to Kwannie, he'll be so pissed he missed this,” you muse, already tapping away on your phone to send the photos to Seungkwan, who you know will post them on the Instagram account he runs for Cats&Coffee.

Not because he is an employee or volunteer, because he isn’t, and technically it's not really an official account because the man made it himself one day after his own followers kept bugging him for more photos of the drinks and hot staff from the coffee shop. But because he enjoys posting embarrassing photos of the staff.

So Seungkwan runs what you and the other staff refer to as a fan account for the coffee shop and sanctuary, and he takes advantage of that joke to essentially thirst post about the men in a semi-serious way. Nobody knows if he does it for the sake of the customers, or if Seungkwan genuinely wants Wonwoo to 'grind him like those high quality beans'.

“It's okay, Jun-hyung! I've called for reinforcements!” Seokmin assures. “Just stay right there!”

“Just get the ladder and help me yourself!” Junhui whines in response.

“I'm scared of heights though!”

Junhui sighs and thunks his head on the branch slightly before he gets back to trying to inch along the branch carefully and grab the cat.

It isn't until you've put your phone back away a minute later that you register what Seokmin earlier said. “Hang on, reinforcements?” You question while turning to look inquisitively at the man still on your right where he’s watching Junhui carefully in concern.

“Yes, my best friend knows how to handle situations like this. He's done it a lot,” Seokmin answers confidently, so you accept his words and go back to grinning at the sight of your own best friend failing to win over a cat for the first time in his life.

Maybe you should've asked more questions though because when you hear Seokmin's name being called happily, you certainly do not expect to see a six-foot hunk of handsome fireman bouncing over with a wave and heart-shatteringly beautiful smile.

“Mingyu!” Seokmin calls back, smiling equally as bright and beautiful, and then the best friend is right with you and you're trying not to gawp up at him. “Thanks for coming. Jun-hyung went up to bring the cat down and now he's stuck and the cat won't listen.” Seokmin pouts over at the tree. Mingyu turns to look at the tree and pouts too.

How can a man be so cute and hot at the same time? You really have no idea but Mingyu pulls it off impeccably.

“Aw, poor Jun-hyung,” Mingyu coos sympathetically. “But no worries!” He perks up and turns back around to look at the pair of you. “We'll save them both! And by we I mean Soonyoung-hyung will save them; he's good at this. Animals love him!”

You notice two other men donning the same big jacket and trousers combination of a classic firefighter outfit approaching the tree and setting up the ladder. And hot damn if you aren't suddenly tempted to take up a new hobby of arson just to see them regularly because holy shit all three of these men are ridiculously attractive. You have to swallow thickly to keep the drool in your mouth.

The shorter of the pair by the tree holds onto the bottom of the ladder securely while the other climbs it smoothly. To your genuine delight, the man simply makes an encouraging noise while extending his hand out and the little furry demon of a cat trots straight over. You can't help but burst into cackling laughter as the feline climbs over Junhui as if he is nothing more than part of the tree while your best friend gawps in disbelief.

“Told you animals love him.” Mingyu grins proudly as you all watch Soonyoung traverse down the steps of the ladder, still as smoothly as he went up them even with one arm supporting the cat against his chest and its furry little head nuzzling into the man's jaw while Soonyoung giggles happily at the cute actions.

“A regular Snow White.” You grin.

“I'll be right back!” Soonyoung calls to Junhui and already walking over to the three of you. “Hi! I'm Soonyoung!” He greets brightly. “Your friend says to give the cat to you?” He tries to offer you the cat but it yowls and latches onto his jacket. Luckily, the material is thick and sturdy enough that the cat's claws don't actually reach the man's body.

“I think he likes you,” you muse.

“Aww,” Soonyoung coos and nuzzles the cat who loudly starts to purr. “He's so lovely, what's his name?”

“He hasn't got one yet. We run a sanctuary and he's our newest rescue.”

“A rescue?” Soonyoung turns round, sad eyes on you. “Is he okay.”

“Yeah, the vets gave him the go-ahead, he's just a little shit who wouldn't let them groom him at all. I think we might have to shave him if he doesn't let us.”

“But his hair is so beautiful.” He pouts. “It'll grow back well, right?”

“Of course,” you assure the man making his pout melt away.

“Uhm, hello?!” Junhui yells from the branch, gaining your attention back. Even the man at the bottom of the ladder hasn't been paying him any attention.

“Oh, right.” Soonyoung once again tries to hand the cat to you but the feline really doesn't want to let him go. You think it’s understandable. “Mingyu, can you go up and-”

“No way.” Mingyu shakes his head adamantly with wide eyes. “You know I'm scared of heights, hyung.”

“You're a firefighter who's scared of heights?” You deadpan. He pouts at you. “You're right; why do firefighters even need to climb ladders anyway? Just leave him in the tree, he'll get down when he falls.” Mingyu giggles a little.

“I got it,” a new voice calls, one you initially assume belongs to the man by the ladder but, oh are you so wrong.

A fourth firefighter appears; he’s clad in the same uniform as the others but something about the way he wears it seems more like it was made for him. He's already approaching the tree from the road where the fire engine is parked and he had been sitting inside in wait.

And you are unaware of this but he has definitely been checking you out the entire time and only got out with every intention of showing off.

He stops once at the foot of the tree and glances over his shoulder at the four of you before shucking off his jacket. Your throat dries at the sight of his broad, muscular torso filling out the fitted black t-shirt strapped over with the suspenders of his uniform trousers.

And talking of those trousers, holy shit does he fill them out well. You could've never imagined yourself wanting to bite someone's ass before but here you are, practically salivating at the curve of his plump backside in the ugly trousers. Which is only made more obvious when he starts to climb the ladder.

You don't even notice that the three men you’re standing with start to converse around you; your entire focus is on the epitome of your wet dreams manhandling your best friend down from the tree.

It probably says a lot that even though you have never and will never want to bone your best friend, the sight of the attractive stranger throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him down the ladder like he's nothing really does something to you.

And by that, you mean you'd really like it if the man would throw you over his shoulder, then promptly down onto his bed and climb on top. Or any surface so long as he puts himself between your thighs immediately afterwards.

And to top it off, the man doesn't even put Junhui down once both of his feet are back on the grass; he just turns and starts to approach. The man at the bottom of the ladder rolls his eyes and takes the ladder away knowing exactly what is happening here.

“I believe this belongs to you,” the man states once close enough, abruptly ending the conversation the other three men are having as they look at him. Though he's just staring you down with dark eyes and you're really not going to look away either.

“I wouldn't say he belongs to me,” you return, hoping he gets the hint that you are very single and very willing to mingle with him specifically.

“No? He told me you're his partner.” The fireman tilts his head a little, his left eyebrow raising in question.

“Work partners!” Junhui exclaims, still flopped over the man's shoulder and seeming to be rather willing to remain there for the foreseeable future. “Not romantic or sexual, gross! Not that's she's gross; she's really hot and I've heard good things from her ex-partners!”

Bless Wen Junhui for always trying to hype you up and get you a man.

“Good to know,” the firefighter murmurs, gaze blatantly checking you over. You take the chance to return the favour, and the three men with you quickly back up not wanting to be caught up in this very obvious and shameless flirtation.

Your phone suddenly starts to audibly vibrate in your pocket and you ignore it, more interested in the man in front of you.

“I think you're vibrating,” he points out amusedly.

“Mm, yeah, it's just my phone,” you confirm, half tempted to make a remark about how he could make something else vibrate on you if he wants, but pretty sure that's a little out of social protocol where first meetings with attractive strangers are concerned.

Next time though.

“Isn't he killing your shoulder?” You ask, nodding to Junhui's limp body.

“No.” Though the man still puts Junhui down carefully all the same as if reminded that he really should not stand there with a stranger draped over him any longer or it'd get really weird. “I can carry more weight than him for longer.”

“On your shoulder?”

“However I need to.”

“Good to know,” you return his earlier statement, gaze lingering on the way his chest is all but straining the material of his t-shirt. You don't notice his cocky smirk; you’re far too invested in imagining the material tearing open and freeing his beefy body for your viewing pleasure. Physical too, but those thoughts mostly come later when you're alone in bed.

Junhui stares between the two of you for a moment, wondering if either of you are going to say anything more or just continue to strip each other with your eyes. He figures it's the latter so walks off to try and claim the cat back from Soonyoung.

Neither you nor the hot fireman notice the world continuing to spin around you, up until Mingyu bounces over and pats the slightly shorter man on the shoulder with a; “Chief, we got a call; we need to go. Jihoon-hyung is already waiting to go.”

“Oh, right; work,” Chief replies, face twisting momentarily with displeasure, before he gets back into work mode and nods. “Alright, let's go.” He nods at you in farewell, and Mingyu waves brightly before the tallest rushes right back to the vehicle. The other detours to pick his jacket up from the grass then jogs to climb up into the vehicle too before it pulls away with its lights already flashing and siren kicking in when they're on the main road.

Kind of dazed, you toddle into the store and around the counter to lean dramatically against Wonwoo. There's a mystery stain on the sleeve of his hoodie near your face but you don't have the mental capacity to question it.

Wonwoo doesn't give you any attention until he's done with the customer in front of him.

“What's with you now?” He asks, pulling his arm around from where it's pressed against your chest to sling it around your shoulders instead and tug you more against his chest.

There's another mystery stain here and you vaguely recall that today is clearly a 'Wonwoo is trying to discourage is legions of fangirls' day. The man is dressed in an old, scruffy and stained hoodie and sweatpants combination; the hems barely even meet his ankles and wrists they’re so old, and he has to tie the waistband of the sweatpants up with multiple shoelaces strung together because the original tie was lost years ago. But his fangirls still stare at him as if he is Adonis reincarnated. You have to admit, he still does look unfairly beautiful like this.

“I'm in lust, Wonie,” you whine while squeezing around his waist as if you can get some of the frustration out that way.

The tall man makes a noise of understanding and pats your head as if you're one of the animals from out back. It actually feels pretty nice so you allow it. “Ah, the firefighter who carried Jun down. They told me you two were eye-fucking.”

“I don't want to eye-fuck him, I want to fuck-fuck him,” you complain, squeezing again.

Wonwoo wheezes a little and forces you to loosen your hold yet doesn't remove you from his body otherwise. “Then text him and arrange a date.”

You freeze, then jerk backwards to look up at him with a gaze so devastatingly heartbroken that Wonwoo immediately cups your face and starts to coo consolingly, even if he isn't sure why you look like your entire world is crumbling down around you.

“I forgot to get his number,” you wail.

Wonwoo's touch stills and his face falls flat, before turning unimpressed. “You're a fucking idiot.”

“I know.”

You know that if it wasn't for the new customer approaching the counter, Wonwoo would go on to tell you all the ways in which you are an idiot, but luckily for your currently very fragile ego, there is a customer, so he turns to take her order and goes back to ignoring you even as you attach to his back like some kind of sad-horny parasite.

For days you mourn the loss of what you have convinced yourself would be the best dick you will never be blessed with.

In this mourning, it does not at all cross your mind to simply ask Seokmin to ask his bestie to hook you up with his co-worker, nor does it cross Seokmin's mind either. It does, however, cross Wonwoo's mind; but the barista is kind of cruel at times and finds other's suffering amusing. Only when it's not serious though because Wonwoo can be a bit of a sadist but he's not an asshole.

Regardless of who does or does not think up the logical solution to your suffering, you continue to suffer for days.

Until you are pretty much handed the perfect opportunity to reunite with your lost lover by genuinely the last person you'd expect.

“Wait, what the fuck did you just say?” You demand, interrupting your brother's words as he talks away to Chan by the counter in an attempt to stop the youngest man from waxing poetic over your eyes, or ass, or maybe even your philtrum; you can never tell with your simp of a neighbour.

“I was telling Chan about the fundraiser I'm helping out with for my friends,” Joshua answers while giving you a long-suffering look; the same look he always wears around Chan because, well, who wants to hear someone blathering on about how hot their sibling is?

“You don't have friends,” you retort without thought.

“More than you,” your twin scoffs and picks up his mug from the counter to sip at happily.

Cats&Coffee doesn't actually offer a drink-in option due to how small the space is, so the mugs on hand are purely for the staff or your friends when they stop by. And Joshua, of course, has his own special mug because he's a pain in your ass, but you love him more than anyone else and let him pretty much do want he wants; include supply a hand painted mug for himself to drink his beverages from at the store. Even if you think it's ugly.

“I'm noona's friend,” Chan points out.

“You're her simp, you don't count,” Joshua corrects.

Chan immediately turns to pout all sad and cute at you. “I'm your simp and friend, right, noona?”

“Of course, Channie,” you coo while reaching over the counter to tap the tip of his nose. The younger beams happily and then sends your twin a smug look. Joshua just rolls his eyes. “What's the fundraiser for?” You ask, wanting to get back to the vital conversation.

“The firehouse-”

“When?” You gawp, leaning over the counter towards your brother with eyes wide.

“Tomorrow. Why the fuck are you looking at me like that? It's terrifying.”

“Ly beautiful. You mean terrifyingly beautiful,” Chan retorts simply without missing a beat before noisily sucking through his straw. Joshua chooses to entirely ignore Chan.

“I'm going,” you declare. “Tomorrow. I'm going to the fundraiser.”

“What? Why?” Joshua gives you a suspicious look.

“There will be a wet t-shirt contest, right?” You ask.

“What the fuck? No! This is a community event to raise funds for the family whose house burned down last week, dumbass. Not a fetish movie.”

“They're called porn, Shua,” you point out while pouting slightly at your horny dreams being broken so ruthlessly.

“So noona won't be in a wet t-shirt contest?” Chan asks, eyes sparkling with the thought.

“I'm leaving,” Joshua decides, picking up his mug to take with him and goes through to the sanctuary looking for a safe haven of his own away from you and Chan.

“Sometimes I think you two should just fuck and get it over with,” Wonwoo declares from where he's perched on the stool a little further down the counter munching away on the doughnuts Chan brought with him twenty minutes ago in an attempt to sweeten you all up and allow him to stay longer.

None of you will ever tell him that he doesn't need to bring treats every time he wants to hang around because truthfully, you are all useless at remembering to bring food to work or restocking the staff room, so Chan is often the only reason any of you eat in the middle of the week.

“I think so too,” Chan agrees wholeheartedly while nodding enthusiastically along.

Wonwoo grins in amusement. He always sticks around when Chan visits because he thinks it's the most entertaining thing ever how obviously obsessed with you the young man is. And, of course, Wonwoo thrives on goading the younger on and often making comments in regard to the one time you and Wonwoo fell into bed together.

Well, not bed exactly; more like over the counter late enough one night that it was really early the next morning. Regardless, Wonwoo likes to theatrically retell certain aspects of your tryst, which you know are exaggerated or entirely fake, just to watch Chan drool at the mental images.

“Ah, but once you've had a taste, you'll be begging for more,” Wonwoo replies dramatically.

“I already beg,” Chan is utterly shameless and it only makes Wonwoo's grin grow. “But I can beg more.” The younger looks at you now, but you're too busy texting Seungkwan to task him with getting all the information possible about the fundraiser the next day.

Chan wants to interrupt and ask you if him begging more is what you want him to do, but you look too focused and he loves it when you've got that serious expression on, so he just sighs dreamily and leans down on his elbows to stare adoringly at you.

Thanks to Seungkwan working his magic, Cats&Coffee snag a last-minute stall at the fundraiser where you, Junhui and Hansol set up all the merchandise left over from previous fundraisers.

Hansol always finds these fundraisers awkward purely because the Cats&Coffee special, limited edition fundraiser merchandise always consists of various items with photos of the men on them; the calendars of the men posing with cats are always a hit and a yearly preorder in November.

Junhui, however, doesn't even blink twice at seeing his own face staring back at him on the reusable travel mugs and keychains.

And Wonwoo happily avoids the stall to run the mini coffee truck a little to the right while pointedly ignoring the sign above him that boasts an old, edited picture of him. You and Seungkwan think Wonwoo looks absolutely precious with cat ears, whiskers and a little bell around his throat as he naps curled up with various cats. And you know the fans customers agree so the sign has remained for the past two years.

Usually, you love doing these fundraisers and get lost in convincing people to buy the merchandise, not that most of them need much convincing, to be honest. But you are rather adept at upselling with a way with words that would have the most skilled of grifters taking note, and you take great pride in it.

Yet today, you can't even enjoy watching Hansol awkwardly accepting payment for a photocard lucky dip that may or not be a little photo of his face, or Wonwoo trying to come up with new ways to discourage yet another of his fangirls from being a fangirl.

You're much more focused on watching the man of your wet dreams where he is giving tours of the fire engine and teaching people the importance of fire safety. You'd say teaching kids if you weren't positive that most of the kids are only standing and listening to him because their parents are there; and it’s very obvious which of the parents are present just to ogle the attractive man and don't give a single flying fuck about the words spilling from his mouth.

“Ohmygod, no, don't,” the familiar voice of your brother breaks you from your thirsting. You turn to look at him where he is standing between the coffee-cart and the gazebo you’re seated under. “Don't tell me you only came today because you've got the hots for Seungcheol.”

“Seungcheol?” You're up on your feet in seconds and grabbing a hold of your brother's weirdly sweaty face. You can't even focus on it; you have much more important matters to attend to. “His name is Seungcheol?”

“No,” Joshua mutters while trying to push your hands away from where you’re squishing his cheeks together into an unattractive pout. But he only has one hand free, the other holding an iced americano in a reusable cup with Seokmin's face on, so he can't really fight you off effectively or back up unless he wants to take a tumble to the gravel with Wonwoo.

“It is! Seungcheol. Man, that's a good name, sounds great. Feels great.”

“Stop it, ew,” he complains, looking genuinely pained at your words.

“Only when you tell me everything about him, but most importantly, is he single?”

“He's my friend, don't.”

“You've fucked my friends; I'm going to fuck yours whether you like it or not.”

Your brother whines wordlessly knowing that you have him beat there. He has definitely had various relations with various friends of yours in the past, and most certainly will again in the future too.

“Ugh, fine,” he concedes while slumping, so you make a happy noise and let him go.

Only now do you pay attention to the sweat on your palms and pull a disgusted face, before wiping them on his t-shirt, though that's not exactly in a much better condition. “Why the fuck are you so sweaty?” You eye him in pure disgust.

“Because Jihoon and I are doing demonstrations.” You give him a questioning look. “Exercise, you know; the thing people do to be healthy?” He rolls his eyes. “The guys asked him to lead a basic exercise demonstration to help encourage healthy habits and he asked me to help, you know, seeing as I'm a personal trainer with him.”

“Oh!” You make a noise of understanding. “Jihoon is your hot colleague.” Then another revelation comes to you and you gasp while hitting his arm a few times. He bats you in return, then pouts as he rubs at the impact spot on his bicep. “He was holding the ladder!”

“What?” Joshua looks at you as if you're crazy. Which, honestly, is a pretty common expression he wears around you or anyone who works at Cats&Coffee, or regularly spends time there.

You really do associate with a top-notch bunch of weirdos.

“The other day Junnie got stuck up a tree so Seokie called his hot bestie, who turns out to be a hot fireman with hot coworkers and the only one who I didn't talk to was Jihoon! I didn't recognise him in his uniform, and he's blond now and grew his hair out?”

“Mm, yeah, looks good right?” He enthuses and you nod. “I'll tell him you said that.”

“Mm sure,” you agree without care. “But back to the important matter here; Chief Seungcheol.” Your eyes are practically burning with how much they glisten at the thought of the buff man currently showing the hose attached to the fire engine.

Man, you wish he'd show you his hose; innuendo emphatically intended.

“I'm so going to regret this but yes, he's single.” Your brother sighs. “And now I know how you two met, I'm guessing you're the woman whose number he forgot to get after eye-fucking her with her friend on his shoulder.”

“Man, that was hot; he could throw me around so-”

“Okay, no, shut up. You're my baby sister, I don't need to hear that,” he complains, backing up with a shake of his head out of the gazebo.

“You're less than an hour older!”

“Can't hear you!” He calls back over his shoulder, already jogging back to his own station across the lot.

You turn to sit back down and happen to notice the Chief himself standing in front of the fire engine and no longer surrounded by visitors, while staring in your direction, with his big arms crossed over his big chest and a dark look in his eyes. You expect him to turn and get back to work, but he tilts his head when your eyes meet; a silent demand before he turns and walks past the huge vehicle and through the staff-only door to enter the firehouse.

“Fellas, I'm going to go get me some dick,” you declare, patting Junhui on the shoulder as you pass him to edge around the table.

“Ask him how to handle his big hose!” Junhui calls without looking up from the keyrings he is rearranging.

Hansol wonders how you two ever manage to run a business when you both always say such things so blatantly in front of customers, but then he notices the young women at the table all fawning over the merchandise obliviously and wonders no longer.

The interior of the firehouse is blessedly cool in comparison to the hot weather outside; even under the gazebo out of the sun's direct glare, you were starting to get a little sweat dappled.

“Hey,” the voice makes you jump slightly and you turn to find Seungcheol leaning back against a dinner table. You take a quick glance around behind him and realise it's the kitchen area. You're standing in the mostly open area of the ground floor, though there's a couch further to your right and you briefly imagine him pinning you down on it.

“Hi, Chief,” you reply while sauntering closer.

“You know Shua?” He asks bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush. He's pretty certain you both have one thing on your mind based on the way he has noticed you staring him down hungrily for the past two hours.

“He's my brother,” you inform and stop close enough in front of him that the tips of your sandals are almost touching the toes of his clunky uniform boots. You dread to think how hot his feet must be in those.

For a second, you're genuinely disgusted at the thought, but then you notice how his crossed arms bulge and threaten to rip the hems of his sleeves around his biceps and suddenly you don't even know what feet are.

“You're his twin?” He gawps, arms dropping to his sides in disbelief and crushing disappointment.

You hum with a nod and pout a little at the lack of bulging biceps in your vision. But then you realise you can now see his pecs stretching out the black material and you're happy again.

“Stop,” he mutters and reaches up to physically tilt your head up so that you're no longer blatantly checking him out with heavy eyes. “You know your brother is pretty much my best friend, right?” He genuinely looks pained. “I can't fuck you.”

“Yes, you can.” You smirk and step closer, pressing your palms to his chest. You can feel him inhale deeply when you make a home for yourself against him, your thighs locked between each other's and so close to applying pressure exactly where you both want it. “He's essentially given his blessing.”

“He has?” He doesn't fully believe you; that doesn't sound like the Joshua he knows, but he's a weak-ass man when it comes to you. Literally, he already decided he'd do some insane things from the moment he first saw your ass while he was checking you out in the fire engine the other day.

So he lifts his hands to initially settle on your hips but they very quickly, almost immediately, slide down to settle in your back pockets. Not quite touching you up but pretty fucking close.

“Mm, well, blessing isn't the right word. I told him that he's fucked enough of my friends that he has no say in which of his friends I fuck.”

“Do you plan to fuck any of his other friends?” He raises an eyebrow and tugs you a little closer.

“He doesn't have any friends,” you retort and he huffs a short laugh. “Just Jihoon, right? I mean, he does look really fucking good blond so-”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence, princess,” Seungcheol mutters darkly, almost glaring at you in warning. You bite back a grin. “So I'll ask again; do you plan to fuck any of Shua's other friends?”

“Depends on if you disappoint me or not, doesn't it, Chief?” You tease while winding your arms around his neck with a playful smile.

“You're never going to want to fuck anyone else when I'm done with you.”

“That bad, huh?” His face drops. It takes everything in you to not crack up laughing. “Going to put me off sex in general?”

“Shua's right; you're a fucking brat.”

“Mm, yeah,” you confirm shamelessly and press against him entirely. “Kinda think you're into it though, Chief.”

“Is that going to be a thing? Calling me Chief? Or do you just not know my name?” He wonders, head tilting a little and one arm wrapping tight around your waist, while his thigh between yours pushes up between your legs making your eyes light up with joy.

Finally you have him.

“I know your name, but shouldn't I call the boss by his title?” You coo faux-innocently.

“"I'm the boss, huh?” You nod and he smirks. “Damn fucking right, baby.”

Seungcheol doesn't wind up pinning you to the couch, not right away at least. He does, however, take you upstairs to the office and bend you over the desk until you have bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips and nothing but his name on your tongue.

And as it turns out; he was right. You never want to fuck anyone but him again.

A/N- I know this reads like it should end in smut and I did intend to write it but I'm very certain I would not do the vibes justice, I'm so out of practice with smut. But maybe in the future? But if you want some good smut, go read sluttywoozi's stuff fr, you will not be disappointed

Anyway, I hope you liked, please let me know what you think& reblog!

#wkcnet #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen seungcheol fic #seventeen seungcheol fanfiction #seventeen seungcheol fanfic #seventeen scoups fanfiction #seventeen scoups fanfic #seventeen scoups fic #svt seungcheol fanfiction #svt scoups fanfiction #seventeen au #seventeen seungcheol au #seventeen scoups au #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 1 year ago

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How to Leave Comments on Fanfiction

So, I recently made a poll to know if people might find it helpful to have a list of things they could talk about when leaving comments on fanfictions, be it on Ao3 or on here. A majority of people were interested in seeing the post so, well, I'm making it. I started writing and posting stuff online when I was a teenager, on a website where leaving constructive criticism was the norm. It's by far the place where I've gotten the most feedback and it was an incredibly formative experience for me as a young writer — and it taught me how to leave detailed comments.

Writing comments doesn't necessarily come easy. It's something that you may need to learn how to do, but the good news is that you can learn how to do it, so don't worry if you don't know what to say at first. Hopefully this list will give you some pointers on how to do that.

This is more or less the list I go through when I want to leave a detailed comment. Even if I don't have a specific idea at first, I'll go through the steps and I never come out empty-handed.

Comment etiquette:

What became apparent with the poll I made was that a lot of people worry about how they'll be perceived by the writers if they leave a comment. Now, obviously, writers aren't a monolith, but 99% of the time writers will be thrilled that you took the time to leave a comment to let them know what you enjoyed in their fic. I cannot stress this enough. We're not going to judge someone based on a positive comment they leave.

As it stands, on Tumblr and Ao3, it's seen as rude to leave negative feedback, unless the author has explicitly asked for it/agreed to it, so that's what I'll be going over here. Since quite a few writers did say on that post that they would like to get constructive comments as well, stay tuned, I'm trying to get something together to do that for authors. Other than that, you're good to go.

The main ways to let an author know your thoughts on a fic on Tumblr are:

reblogging a fic with your thoughts underneath it

reblogging with your thoughts in the tags, which is often less formal

leaving a comment as a 'reaction'

sending in an ask if they're activated on the blog (which means you can stay anonymous, if anon asks are allowed)

Reblogging means that your followers will see the post as well, and is therefore really appreciated on Tumblr.

As a note, you may find different systems work for different fics! Maybe leaving tag rambles works for you when commenting on drabbles, for example for me it's the system I use to leave comments on smut.

General advice:

Everything I'm saying in here is for people who want to be able to leave longer/more detailed comments and don't always know where to start. If, for whatever reason, you're not comfortable or you don't have time to do it at the moment, a simple "I love the fic, thank you for writing it" always goes a long way for an author.

The key thing to keep in mind if you're trying to find something else to say, I think, is to try making the comment specific to the fic you're leaving it on. It shows the writer what you took away from the fic and the fic's strong points, which is both meaningful and helpful to an author.

Comments don't have to be long to be meaningful. Don't stress about writing a ton; a one-sentence comment highlighting the fic's humor or how emotional it made you can be incredibly impactful.

With this out of the way, I'll go through things you can talk about in a comment, starting with what I think is the easiest and moving on to things that could require more thought. You don't have to do all of that. You may never use some of the things on that list. Leaving comments should not be a source of anxiety. So take what you want from the list, maybe come back to it if you need more inspiration, and don't worry too much about it :)

Favorite line(s) : pull from the fic to let the author know what your favorite line was. If you wish, you can expand on that by saying why it was your favorite: did it make you laugh? Did it make you feel something specific? Did the author nail the characterization with it? Was there some incredible metaphor? Did you find it beautiful or poetic even if you can't go into detail? Is there one line in particular at the beginning of the fic that hooked you in and made you want to keep reading?

All of that is very valuable for a writer to know. Some of my favorite comments I've gotten were a list of a reader's favorite lines from a fic with one or two sentences to explain why they liked them, so don't hesitate to do that more than once if you can!

Emotions: if there’s one thing I know about writers, it’s that we’re thrilled when we’ve made you cry. So tell us: how did the writing make you feel? Did you laugh out loud? If you did, was it the dialogue, or the narrator? Did it make you cry? Which part? Could you relate to one of the characters? Did it make you feel seen? Did the fluff make you feel all fuzzy inside or did the angst twist knots in your stomach? This isn't an exhaustive list, and emotions are great to draw from when you're leaving a comment!

Favorite element of the writing: Is there one thing in the writing that struck you as being particularly good, or what was your favorite thing to read? Is the author a master at writing dialogue? Are their descriptions so good you could see the whole scene? Are they really good at getting in a character's head and describing their emotions? Were you hooked from the start and couldn't stop until you reached the end?

Characterization: Now, this might be less instinctive, but if you've been in a fandom for a while, you'll probably be able to identify these things fairly easily. You can tell the author if you think they've nailed one aspect of a character. Did you have a favorite character in the fic? What did you think of them? Did the author manage to capture their voice? Was the attitude spot-on? Which parts of the character, if you can name them? Were there aspects of the character you particularly enjoyed? Did the author shine a light on something you hadn't considered or on something you don't think is highlighted often enough? Is there one thing from the fic you can actually picture/hear a character doing/saying in your head?

Style: I'd argue this is the hardest part, and you shouldn't feel bad if it's not something you can really comment on. As someone whose first language isn't English, I know I struggle with it. Style can be perceived as the way the author's voice comes through in the text. It can come through in punctuation, in the way sentences are formed, in the choice of the words themselves. If, when you read, you feel something intangible that doesn't fit well in the other categories, it just might be the author's style.

Here are some things (non-exhaustive list, of course) you could say about an author's style: it can be direct, straight to the point. The author doesn't bother with ornaments. Every sentence feels impactful. Maybe the writing feels intense. You're overwhelmed by the characters and their feelings and you feel truly engulfed in the story. Maybe the style is light and airy. It's so easy to read you don't even notice you are reading. Maybe the writing is intricate. Going through it is like piecing a puzzle together, sentences are foreshadowing and metaphors reveal deep truths about the characters. Maybe the style is rich. While not always the easiest, it's a pleasure to read through it, the author has a wide vocabulary, and you might want to compare it to a well-written novel.

If you identify specific elements of that style (metaphors, interesting use of punctuation, etc.), don't hesitate to point them out and let the author know you enjoy them!

That is it for this post, hopefully it doesn't look too daunting — again, you absolutely do not need to do all that in any comment, but maybe going through this list can help you leave comments for authors you enjoy.

I like to end my comments with 'Thank you for writing and sharing this with us', so I'll tell you thank you for reading, I hope this was helpful, and please consider reblogging if you'd like to save this or if you think it could help someone else!

As a bonus, my friend @elidebrey and I (but mostly her) made a 'checklist' for commenting, to help remember all this if that's something you'd like, so use at will!

A big thank you to @elidebrey, @yoongihan and @antoniorhinothethird for their precious opinions on this ♥

#fanfiction #ao3 #fic #fic things #fanfic #archive of our own #author things #fanfic comments #ao3 comments #writing #long post #very long post #fandom

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daddecember · 3 months ago

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Welcome to DadDecember 2024!

Everyone who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome in! We cannot wait to see what you create.

Please make sure to read this post carefully, as many questions have been answered here already. We have also answered all the questions that were submitted through our anon voting form already. If you don’t find what you are looking for there, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here. The mod team will get back to you as soon as possible.

If you wish to give a comment to the mod team without a response, feel free to use our questions, comments, and concerns google form: https://forms.gle/fRcZq2TsV2pgoNs97

This year’s AO3 Collection → https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DadDecember2024

Event Info & Rules

DadDecember is an annual prompt month featuring platonic father and child relationships. We have a collection of prompts for each day meant to inspire works to be created.

*Due to the nature of this event being, do not submit father/child incestual content. That is not the point of this event. This event is strictly platonic. Thank you for understanding.

There are 62 prompts this year with 10 alternative prompts. Each day has two prompts, one situational/trope prompt and one dialogue prompt. You do not need to use both. While we do encourage you to mix and match prompts with different days to fit your specific WIP, we do ask that you tag the prompt you used, not just the day.

This is a prompt month meant to inspire works, so please don’t take any of the prompts too seriously! If you want to get silly with it or really angsty, that’s up to you! How much of the prompt you use and how you use it is all up to you! If you think it fits the prompt, then it does. There is no gatekeeping in DadDecember.

It’s up to the creator how much they want to produce or what media form they want to create in! Anything and everything counts (and if you’re really unsure, you can always ask!). The idea of the event is to create, no matter in the manner you do so.

As far as “how much do I need to do in order for it to count?” – Well, that’s up to you! All participants, regardless of how many works they put out, will be recognized for their efforts!

A google form will be sent out after December ends in which you will be able to say how many works you completed. Works do not need to be published in any way shape or form to count. Participants will be ranked by completion in a tumblr post after the form closes and a custom role will be available for completionists in our discord server.

Should you wish to upload some of your DadDec content to Tumblr, use these tags:

Required tags:

#daddecember

#daddecember2024

#sfw or #nsfw

Optional Tags (but appreciated if used)

#DadDec No.1, #DadDec No.2, #DadDec No.3, ect.

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings and content warnings. Add “tw” or “cw” AFTER the trigger/content warning )

For the sfw/nsfw tag, please use your best judgment. A Mature or Explicit rating (for anything except gore) should be marked as nsfw.

Reblogging Policies:

Due to the nature of the blog and for the safety of all fellow participants, nsfw posts will not be reblogged. - These works are still very much welcome in the AO3 collection.

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Frequently Asked Questions

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much as you would like! Whether you can get out one piece between now and the end of December or 45, we are here to encourage you all along the way!

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. Due to time constraints, we may not reblog posts outside of December (pinging @Mod Addri via discord will always get you reblogged, though, so you can always try that ;) ).

Q. Can I combine DadDecember with other creation challenges?

Yes, as long as the other challenges allow it as well. Please reference their rules.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only will count once for your total completion number (unless combined with a different unused prompt).

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes, you can post WIPs. Snippets or other forms of WIPs are completely fine and will still count for completion! As long as you started it, feel free to count it!

Q. Is collaborating allowed?

Absolutely, we even encourage it! Collaborations can be an amazing way to get full completion status (especially if you’re competitive) without as much work! It would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before December?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a little over a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

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If you want your work reblogged, yes.

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Yes.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Best of luck,

Mod Addri

The full written-out list of prompts is below the cut.

2024 Prompts List:

1. Lost in the woods | "Cover your eyes"

2. Sick day | "I didn't know where else to go"

3. Accidents happen | "Are we there yet?"

4. Father's day | "Wait, wait, he's your father?"

5. Stars | "You're just like I remember"

6. First steps | "I have never hated you"

7. Learning to drive | "I'm sorry"

8. Alternate Universe - Age reversal / Role-swap | "Can you tell me a story?"

9. Tears | "Follow my lead"

10. Pillow fight | "Are you okay?"

11. Forever | "Can we do this every year?"

12. First pet | "Don't you dare..."

13. Demon Lord and Hero | "You're not my real dad"

14. Platonic Soulmates | "Can I have a hug?"

15. Similarities | "Please don't go"

16. Appearances | "Leave me alone"

17. Bring your kid to work day | "Can we make cookies?"

18. Promises | "I'll make it up to you, I promise"

19. Hypothermia | "What's with the long face?"

20. Time travel | "It's too late"

21. Finding a way home | "Be home by midnight"

22. Found family | "What did I say about..."

23. Patching each other up | "Santa isn't real"

24. Not quite asleep | "You came back?"

25. Holidays | "I'm proud of you"

26. Homework | "This is your birthright."

27. Bring your parent to school day | "Can you help me with this?"

28. Loss | "Happy birthday!"

29. Body Swap | "You remembered?"

30. Wings / Grooming | "Get down here this instant"

31. A new year | "Thank you."

Alternative Prompts:

1. A kind lie / A harsh truth

2. Giving gifts

3. Home alone

4. Snow day

5. Pillow fort

6. "Of all things"

7. Hidden

8. Another world - Universe Swap

9. Werewolves/Vampires

10. Family dinner

#daddecember #events #updates #multimedia events #multifandom events #daddecember2024 #fandom event #yearly events #prompt event

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l1v1ngd3dgrrl · 13 days ago

Note

Bestie pls hear me out 😩😩 your work on ao3 is mind blowing AMAZING! If you are taking requests can you write like a Daisuke/reader fic where they’ve been trying to sleep together (secret relationship type deal) but they’ve been getting cockblocked by every member of the crew until they finally get time of their own with pent up feelings

AN: I audibly gasped when i read this request, anon your miiiiiind. Fuck yeah let's do it! Also thank you for enjoying my work aaaaaaaaa, it makes me so giddy when i get comments like that! thank you for your patience <3

Alone Together [Daisuke x Reader]

word count: 2,503

Cw(s):getting cockblocked/sexual tension, Daisuke gets a little rough here and doesn't pull out, usage of babe/my girl, soft dom Daisuke(?), Shitty attempt at dirty talk again because ya ghoul cannot write it well at all. Leg locking?

Continuing my contributions to the Freaksuke agenda <- that is a joke, please don't get mad at me. I may have gotten a lil too carried away with this one (sweats)

MDNI banner: Cafekitsune.

Having a secret relationship wasn't something you ever imagined yourself doing. Especially with one of your co-workers. You've worked at Pony Express for about 3 years now, and never really found yourself drooling over anyone in your crew. (Okay there was that ONE time you thought Curly was really hot but that's over and done with.) It was unprofessional and would make things awkward.

That sentiment flew out of the window when you met the newest member joining you for this Haul, Daisuke was the new 22 year old intern working with Swansea. Unsurprisingly Swansea made it very clear from day one that he wasn't thrilled with it, which did affect him negatively causing him to be pretty shy when talking with the rest of the crew. Over time he warmed up to everyone, eagerness similar to a a cartoon protagonist at times but in the most endearing way.

Now this little (at the time) one-sided crush didn't happen all at once, It was about a month into your haul when you noticed that you'd get butterflies in your stomach whenever you heard him talk, laugh or do literally anything. He could breathe and you would just stare at him like he hung the moon. It was an interesting display on your part, hopefully he didn't catch you staring and think you were weird.

By the third month he let it slip that he thought you were attractive. The exact way he confessed it was a little hard to remember but it was in the dorkiest way possible-lots of fumbling of words and finger guns. Ever since then you two begun dating in secret.

The hardest part about all of this was trying to get more intimate. There were only a certain amount of places you two could do it with the lowest risk of getting caught. No place was truly 100% risk free, which became increasingly obvious when you kept getting cockblocked by everyone.

First it was Anya, as sweet as she is you slightly resent her for scaring the living hell out of you when she needed Daisuke for his psyche eval. She didn't see anything, and it's not like you two were actually fucking but you were pretty close to doing so. The sudden knocking on the door killed the mood and startled both of you.

"Another time, I promise." Is what he whispered before placing a kiss on your lips.

The second incident was when you paid a visit to Daisuke in the utility room, completely innocent at first. You had to run a binder to him. When Swansea grunted out that he was going on break and to not linger too long and distract him that's when the tension in the air boiled over. Alas, much like last time you two didn't get very far and had to scramble to get yourselves decent before Swansea could barge in and lecture the both of you.

"Next time we won't get interrupted?" he awkwardly said, not fully convinced in his own words.

The third time the two of you were giggling and placing heated kisses on each others skin, on your way to your sleeping quarters. Clothes were discarded on the floor and hands were wandering over bare skin, maybe this time was finally the time you didn't get interrupted.

The sound of a very grouchy Jimmy banging on your door for you to "Shut the fuck up and go to sleep." caused you to audibly groan in frustration. "Fine-Fine!, Just go away!"

Daisuke looked as if he was about to cry.

And of course the breaking point for the both of you was when your captain of all people almost caught you. Frustration was starting to eat both of you whole.

It was one night when everyone had gone to bed earlier than usual did Daisuke pull you into his sleeping quarters, kissing your skin feverishly and panting like a dog. "I can't hold off much longer please," he whined. "I don't even care if we get caught or whatever." You agreed wholeheartedly.

It's been nearly a whole month since the two of you had sex. yikes. You were probably more worked up than he is.

"We should at least move the desk in front of the door-as a precaution y'know?" you murmured. Daisuke nodded eagerly and rushed over to move the piece of furniture in front of the door.

It wasn't the heaviest thing in the world, but it often took you a bit to move it by yourself. Daisuke on the other hand was moving it with ease as if it weighed nothing. Hot.

After the desk was moved he turned to you and began pulling his shirt over his head, careful to avoid snagging it on his earrings.

This was your cue to do the same, you gripped the hem of your shirt and began to peel it over your head. In the split second that your vision was blocked by the fabric Daisuke had taken it upon himself to drop to his knees and start placing kisses down your now exposed abdomen. You giggled, the feeling of the kisses tickled and felt odd.

Once your shirt was fully off he stood back up and kissed you again, walking you towards your bed. Your knees hit the side of the mattress and both of you dropped backwards. He moved his knees on either side of your hips, as he sat back on his haunches eyeing you over wordlessly. "You're so hot." he blurted out. You giggled and pulled him in for another kiss. "I know."

Both of you didn't know where to start, there was an awkward pause as you both sat in silence thinking about what you wanted the most. You took the lead and reached over to his pants, palm instantly going over and rubbing him through his jeans. His hips jerk forward briefly and he groans, eyes rolling back.

It's dark, but you can feel the pre starting to seep into the fabric beneath your palm. Warm and slightly sticky. You bite your lip and wrap your hand around the bulge and proceed to jerk him the best you can through the denim. His breathing is starting to get heavier, huffing and groaning as he clutches the blanket underneath the both of you.

"I want more-fuck I need more." he says, heavy with want. You give him a firm squeeze before bringing your hand up to unbutton his jeans. With Shakey hands he helps you, happy to finally ease this tension. His pants hit the floor with a quiet plop and he's left in his boxers, the front of them wet with his arousal. "Lay back on the bed." You command gently, he obliges wordlessly.

This time you're the one on top, your knees spread on either side of his legs and kissing down his abdomen like he had done to you minutes prior, stopping once you reach his boxers. His breath hitches and you tug the fabric down. His erection springs free and he winces slightly at the temperature change.

You take him into your palm, thumb spreading the pre down his shaft as lubrication and pump him a few times. On the bed Daisuke grips the blanket and lets his jaw fall slack. You lean foreword and take him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head.

He keens and sits up ever so slightly, propping himself on his elbows. He likes the way your cheeks hollow around him, the feeling of your tongue as it spirals around the tip and then down this length. Before things could go too far he stops you, and you let out a disapproving whine.

"You deserve some action too." he says, his thumb coming up to wipe away some saliva on your lip. "I mean yeah, But I was having fun." He rolls his eyes and pulls you in for a kiss.

"Let me take care of you for a bit."

"ugh fine." you playfully groan. You stand up and drop your bottoms, much to Daisuke's surprise you weren't wearing underwear. "Nice." he grins and you lightly smack him on the shoulder.

He has you lay down beside him, legs spread and his hand trailing up your thighs. His fingers trace up your slit and he grins, "Wow you're like really wet right now."

"Can you blame me?" you ask, drawing in a shaky breath as rubs small circles on your clit.

"I can't," he presses wet kisses to your neck. "And I won't." His fingers begin to work inside you now, curling as he moves. You let out a low moan and spread your legs just a bit further.

He continues, relishing in the soft gasps and moans he draws out of you. Once he hits that one specific spot that makes you cry out he smirks and focuses on it, fingers pumping in and out of you faster. You're moans get a little too loud and he gently covers your mouth with his palm.

"I love hearing you, but I think I would actually die if we get interrupted again." He pulls his palm away and replaces it with his lips, groaning as you whine into the kiss.

His movements continue, and as you draw closer to your boiling point his movements cease. He pulls his fingers from you and pulls away from the kiss. Now it's your turn to protest, you were almost there!

Before you can even say anything Daisuke is moving to where he's hovering over you, elbows pressed into the stiff mattress. "Did you want it this way babe, or did you have another position in mind?"

"Lemme ride."

"You got it."

He trades places with you, laying on his back yet again and caressing your hips as you line up with his cock. You sink down on him slowly, biting your lips to suppress a moan. Daisuke has no intentions of quieting himself. "Hoh fuck-" He sucks in a sharp breath once he was fully sheathed inside you.

He holds onto your hips with an almost bruising grip, careful not to hurt you. You begin to rise and fall into his lap, skin meeting skin with a 'plap' sound. Quiet moans and gasps pour past your lips as you continue to ride him, the long over due feeling of feeling full is almost too intense.

Beneath you Daisuke is slack jawed, eyes darting between your face and where the two of you meet. Despite the obvious pleasure he's experiencing it's obvious that he's wanting more, clearly holding back something.

You lean down and graze the shell of his ear with your lips, the feeling of your breath so close sends a shiver down his spine and goosebumps to form on his skin.

"You don't have to hold back." You whisper, You sit back up to look at his face. His eyes widen. "Wait what?"

"Don't hold back, You're super tense right now."

He swallows thickly and his hands squeeze tighter on your hips. "I would but like-" he pauses and bites his lip. "I don't wanna hurt you."

You snort and roll your eyes. "If I didn't think I could handle it I wouldn't have asked." For a moment he just stares blankly, the cogs in his brain turning.

"Meaning..?"

"Meaning I want you to give it to me," You grasp his jaw lightly in one hand and tilt his head up to look directly at you. "Hard."

In an instant his demeanor does a 180 and a wicked grin stretches across his face. "Say less."

His feet press into the mattress and he begins thrusting up, pace brutal. You yelp and grip the sheet below you. "Daisuke!" He merely chuckles and continues, his hands pulling you down to meet his thrusts.

This side of him is something you thought you would never see. Not that you thought he was 'weak' or submissive or anything, he just didn't seem like the type. Though when you're constantly being cockblocked by your crewmates emotions get bottled up quick.

Your eyes roll back as he continues thrusting, jaw falling slack and letting any and all noises flow freely. Somehow it felt like he was deeper, his cock hit new spots in you and you thought you were gonna see stars. The room is filled with the bed creaking and the sound of your bodies slapping together, there's no way that the others didn't hear you.

Suddenly he pauses, gasping for breath below you.

"Tapping out?" You ask snapping out of your daze. "Not yet, Might need to change positions though." He eases you backwards, hovering over you as your back hits the mattress for a second time. He lines himself back up with your pussy and pushes in.

Instinctively your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer. His hips draw back and he resumes thrusting, your body bounces with each push and pull. Over the various noises you hear him mumble praises out to you, how good you feel and how well you're taking him. You moan his name unabashedly, head falling backwards and eyes squinting shut. Without a doubt you were going to be sore tomorrow, the ache starting to set in now. You didn't care, it felt amazing.

"That's my girl." he pants, his hands gripping the sheets beside your head and thrusting even harder. "I can't last much longer, Where do you want it?"

Wordlessly you tighten your legs around his waist and lock eyes with him. He swears and nods. "There? you got it babe." With a few more sloppy thrusts he's spilling inside of you.

He stays buried as he catches his breath, his hand coming up to trace your jawline. "God, You're beautiful."

"You too." He leans down brushing his lips against yours and pressing a few slow deep kisses against them. After he pulls away you point to the nightstand next to you. "I should have some tissues in the drawer."

He looks down to where both of you meet and snorts. "Oh whoops, yeah almost forgot about that." He slides out of you, and you feel his cum start to ooze out. He opens the drawer and pulls out the tissues you mentioned, grabbing a handful and cleaning you up first. It won't get all of it, but it'll clean you up enough.

Once the clean up part is over he climbs back into bed with you, pulling you close. "I uh- wasn't too rough with you right?" he asks, brown doe eyes searching your face eagerly. "You weren't too rough I promise," You brush hair away from his face and smile. "I kinda liked it." His face flushes and he smiles awkwardly "I'm glad you did, not sure if I'd be able to do that all the time though."

"We could always hold off for another few months." you tease. "Please don't." he adds on quickly, "I think I would literally explode." You snort and kiss him. "I'm kidding!"

#18+ mdni #mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader

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gvtted-ratz · 7 months ago

Text

BEFORE YOU READ:

- Read all tags/ratings if there are any. They are important and give you all you need to decide if you want to actually read. If you do not like the tags/rating, please do not read.

- We ask that anyone who is FEM aligning/identifying to not read our MLM fics. You can still send requests, however, we do not do FEM readers.

- You can find all our works on AO3. Only registered users can view/comment.

- Minors/ageless/blank blogs are not welcome, and you will be blocked. Respect our wishes or you will be blocked. We go through all our likes, followers, and reblogs.

Want to request? Find the rules: here!

Want to see all the fics? Find them: here!

A Boyfriend Who Dissociates (Will, Hannibal)

Last Edited: April 17, 2021 10:47 PM

TW: dissociation

Anon: Hannibal and Will (separate) with a boyfriend who dissociates a lot? (or, if you’re uncomfy with it, a boyfriend who gets lost in their own thoughts it okay too!)

Word Count: 228

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Will Graham

• “Don’t worry, Buttercup, I’ll take care of you.”

• Will knows what it’s like to just be in his own thoughts or feel disconnected from himself.

• There are times after each case where he dissociates and he can’t help it.

• He always tries to get his boyfriend what he needs and/or wants.

• Will just wants him to know that he’s there to help him through it and will always be by his side.

• Nothing will stop him from being right beside his boyfriend and even if his boyfriend says he doesn’t want/or need anything, he’s going to bring him his favourite snacks and tell him how much he loves and cares for him.

Hannibal Lecter

• “It’s quite alright, Mylimasis, I’m right here.”

• Hannibal has seen many patients dissociate and knows how to deal with it.

• He’ll ask him to focus on something in the room, ask him about the item, and ask him questions about it to ground him.

• Hannibal is very patient with his boyfriend, knowing that it can be tough when he dissociates.

• He’ll love him no matter what goes on and will always help ground him when needed.

• No matter how long it takes to get his boyfriend back from his dissociation, he’s right by his side, ready to help.

#x male reader #x reader #headcanons #headcanon #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x male reader #will graham x reader #will graham x male reader #gvtted-ratz headcanons #my hcs #mdni blog

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bamsara · 10 months ago

Text

A03 Questions Tag Game

I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

1,066,633

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia

5 – Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them

I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Not posted? Solar Lunacy

Ongoing? TROD

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pass.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now

#sara shush

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megamindsecretlair · 5 months ago

Note

Hey fren! ✌🏾

Whenever you got the time, can we get a nice little piece with Kofi, Tyrone, or Trevante (your pick lol) where him and his girl get into bad. It leads them to be mad as hell at each other to where they aren't speaking for like a day or two.

And our man finally gets tired of the tension and decides to make things up, but our girl is damn sure good at holding grudges so it takes him a leeettle bit more convincing to get her out of her feelings.

Also, no rush if you do decide to do this one! Love you babes 😘💜

A/N: I hope this hits. What can I say, the anon inspired me. Please note that this is not Mr. Black.

Don't Forget About Us

Pairing: Tre x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Established relationship. Smut, FLUFF, PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), anal play, dirty talk, cursing, all consensual.

Summary: See ask. You reached a breaking point with your boyfriend. He was constantly gone, nose buried in work making you go to bed alone and tired and lonely. After a screaming match, you both need time to cool your heels. But not for too long.

Word Count: 6,841k

AO3 Link

A/N: It's not that I lied, it's just that I failed lmfao. I hadn't had plans to release this but well, I miss himmmm. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @blackerthings @logansblackgf @henneseyhoe @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @westside-rot @prettypink-princesss @thadelightfulone @the-crystal-one @miyuhpapayuh @thecookiebratz @twocentuar @esachicaa @enchantedillumination @xo-goldengirl @tranquilfandomer @we-outsiiiide @hihellogoodbyebruh @babybratzmaraj @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @mochaaahooligan @ashleykeri @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @iv0rysoap @00aijia00 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @luckygirlszn @thecapodomme @chaos-4baby @multiversefanfics @tvchi @kittyken006 @avoidthings @makayla171

For the first time, in a really long time, you did not want to get out of your car and walk through the front door. You didn’t want to spend another restless night worrying over your boyfriend. He was such a work-a-holic and you were tired of the arguments.

The same old record scratch repeating over and over. You missed him like crazy. You wanted him warm and safe in your bed every night and you were sick of feeling guilty for wanting that. He would kiss you and make promises, but slowly, his word was losing its meaning.

You groaned and dropped your head to the steering wheel. You could not stay out here for much longer. You knew that and yet your legs felt like lead weights. You couldn’t make your body move even though your mind screamed at you to move. You honestly didn’t know how much longer you could continue doing this.

You heaved another groan and finally got out of the car, the quick beep letting you know that your car was locked and armed. You walked up to the townhouse you two shared, entering through the front door. You walked inside to the lights on and music playing somewhere in the background.

You closed and locked the door, removing your jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. You slipped out of your heels, sighing as that particular burden was removed. You followed the sound of the music to the dining room.

Your boyfriend stood there in soft black lounge pants and a black long sleeved tee to match. It molded well to his body, showing off his muscles. He smiled, instantly lighting up the entire room with that mega-watt smile of his.

A gold chain rested against his chest and golden studs glinted in the dim lighting. He held out a glass of wine, cocking his head. “Hey baby,” he said.

You sighed, wanting to melt into his arms. Wanting to hug him and turn your brain off for the rest of the night. A surge of bitterness shot through you, coating your tongue in acid. But you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to pick a fight. Didn’t want to be that type of girlfriend.

You smiled and grabbed the glass of wine from him and took a small sip. You felt awkward standing next to the man of your dreams and not knowing what to do. Whether or not it was okay to reach across that gap and touch him.

You scooted past and looked at the dinner on the table. Steaming short ribs were covered in gravy, sitting next to a vegetable medley and seasoned mashed potatoes. It looked amazing and your mouth watered, momentarily forgetting that you were mad at him.

Tre moved around you and slid your chair out. You thanked him and moved in front of it. He pushed the chair in as you sat down and then took his seat at the side of the table. He uncovered a bowl of salad, dishing some for you into the small bowl beside your plate.

You smiled and began eating, falling into a familiar pattern. You spoke about silly things like your work and his, the crazy people there, or what your friends were currently up to. You spoke about your family and their latest shenanigans and Tre spoke about talking to his grandmother earlier.

Safe, normal topics that didn’t disrupt the nice meal Tre prepared. You let yourself breathe for a moment, soak up the rare moment that he was home long enough to enjoy this. You laughed with him and you enjoyed seeing the little crinkle in his eyes. That devastating smile.

You relaxed in the chair, taking a moment to appreciate the comfortable lull in the conversation. You swirled the last bit of wine in your glass on the table, watching the red liquid swirl.

“You want some more?” Tre asked.

You smiled and shook your head. “I should probably get ready for bed, I got an early meeting,” you said.

Tre sighed. “I get it,” he said. He looked down at your hand briefly when the shrill tone of his phone rang in the living room.

You sucked your teeth while he cursed, grabbing his phone and looking at the caller’s name. It’d be so much easier if you thought he was cheating. That you could explain away in your mind. Men were dogs, it was what they did, blah blah blah. You would be hurt, you would get over it and move on with someone who actually loved you.

But no. You had to compete with four walls and a computer screen. You had to compete with spreadsheets and wet signatures and copy paper. How the hell did you beat something like that? Where would you even start?

“I’m sorry, I thought I put it on silent,” he said.

“It’s fine, take it,” you said. You smiled and stood up, getting ready to clear the table. Tre placed his hand on yours, stilling your movements. You looked at him without looking into his eyes. Your eyes were focused on his lips, on the tight lipped grimace.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“You cook, I clean. That was the deal,” you said, intentionally misunderstanding him. You pulled your arm but he didn’t budge. You sighed but refused to meet his gaze. His phone continued ringing and he cursed again, reaching out with his left hand to silence the ringing.

“Pick it up, Tre. Really, it’s fine,” you said. You yanked your arm once more and he let you go, let you bring the dishes to the kitchen. You hated doing dishes. But a deal was a deal. If you cooked, he cleaned. If he cooked, you cleaned. You packed away the remaining food, placing it in the refrigerator. You started filling the sink after plugging it, adding soap so it could bubble up.

Tre’s heavy footsteps entered the kitchen, feet tapping on the smooth tile. His massive frame took up your peripheral vision but you focused on the rising, steaming water.

“You won’t even look at me anymore,” he said.

You choked on a laugh, not expecting that to shoot out of his mouth. You bit your lip so that you could stop, so that it wouldn’t turn into theatrics and hysterics. You swore you’d never be this type of girl. You swore and you swore.

“You’re not here long enough for me to look at you,” you said.

“That’s not fair, damn. I did all of this to spend time with you,” he said.

You sighed. Feeling the oncoming headache. Was it even worth it? All you did was argue and yell around in circles. The yells like lashes against the wall. It was grating and nerve-wracking and you wanted off the struggle bus.

But if you didn’t say anything, would anything ever change? Did you want it to? You watched the water foam and bubble up as it rose in the sink. You were leaning on the sink, feet crossed at the ankle.

“Until the next time you need to go into the office. Or the next time your boss needs you to look at an expense report right this second, at three in the morning. Or you have this meeting or that meeting, your phone is constantly on. You might as well move into your fucking office. You never turn that shit off,” you said.

You turned off the water, the sharp creak of the handle loud in the silent kitchen. Music still pumped in from the other room, but it was too muted to understand the lyrics. Knowing Tre, it was something sweet and sensual. Finding songs with the perfect mix of longing and need.

You pulled on kitchen gloves when Tre’s phone rang once more. You smirked with no real humor behind it. “If you really wanted to spend time, you would have turned your phone off.”

“This is my job, baby. This is what I get paid to do. This is how I afford all of this,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and started scrubbing the plate. You poured your frustration into getting every last stain off of the plate. Every last smear of gravy or mashed potato. “I know that! I’m not saying quit your job, I’m not saying never work. I just want you home at a decent fucking hour,” you said.

You put the clean plate on the other side of the sink so that you could rinse it off later. You started in on another plate. The action would be relaxing if you didn’t have Tre’s fucking phone going off. His boss was worse than a thirsty bitch after your man. You swore, there were some moments where you caught his boss looking at you like you were the devil herself.

“Sometimes things come up that need my attention,” he said.

“At three in the fucking morning? What email or graph or fucking presentation is so important at three in the morning? When do you sleep? When do you rest?”

Tre growled, stepping closer to you. “It’s just for a few weeks while we try to finish up this contract. Our work on it will depend on if they’ll sign with us again,” he said.

You mentally said the words along with him. He’d said it so often, you had it committed to memory. “And what if you don’t have a few weeks? Because your body is breaking down, because you never rest, because you never chill? What then? You gonna rest when you’re dead?”

You glanced at him, at the pain in his eyes. His mouth was fixed in a grimace, eyes cold. No matter what you said, he was always going to think his way was the highway. He wasn’t going to budge. He was turning into a mountain before your eyes. You rolled your neck and continued washing off the dinner plates and wine glasses.

“I’m trying,” he said quietly.

“No, you’re not. If you were trying, this wouldn’t be the first dinner we’ve had together –”

His phone rang and you laughed, shaking your head. What was the point? Tre cursed and picked up the phone, screaming into the phone.

“I’m in the middle of something,” he said. He listened for a few moments, turning away from you as he continued with the conversation. You chuckled, amazed at how easy it was to sway him when it came to work. Yet you were pleading with him to do right by you.

Truly, why bother? Why fight for a relationship that he clearly didn’t want or need? You felt like you were a hindrance. Like you were in the way of him working himself into the ground. The sad part was that you just wanted him safe. And he just wanted to work.

He was gone for about ten minutes, likely somewhere in your double home office, clicking away on his computer. You fell into a silent rhythm, washing the utensils and then rinsing off the dishes, draining the other side.

You took off the kitchen gloves and then washed your hands. Tre re-entered the kitchen, sighing. “I’ll see you next time you decide to come home,” you said.

Tre smacked his lips. “I don’t know what else you want me to do here, baby. You said come home and I’m home. You said you wanted a home cooked meal and here it is,” he said.

You rubbed your head. “I want you home! And that means your phone is off, your mind is not on work, and you are here with me. Otherwise–” You shrugged and shook your head, the words pushing against your tongue. Pushing you to speak.

“Otherwise there’s no reason to be together.” You sighed, feeling like a weight had been shoved off your shoulders. You could breathe now that the words were out in the air. You couldn’t take them back. Couldn’t recall them.

Tre’s face crumpled before he turned around, throwing his hands in the air. “What the hell? You want to break up now?” He asked and turned back to you.

“I don’t know! I’m tired and I’m mad and I don’t want to look at you right now. Go to work, stay here, I don’t care. But you’re sleeping on the couch!” You yelled.

“Tell me if you’re trying to break up with me,” he said.

“I don’t know. You make me so mad and sad. And I’m tired!” You yelled. You brushed past him. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to a stop. You yanked your hand back. His phone rang and you turned to look at him. You looked pointedly at the phone in his hand and then at him.

“I hope that you don’t look up five years from now, sad and alone, because you chose work over living your life,” you said. You left him in the kitchen, left him looking at you as if you’d slapped him in the face.

Tears stung your eyes but you refused to cry. Refused to weaponize your tears to manipulate him into staying. You weren’t going to beg a man to stay. You made your desires clear, multiple times, over many arguments during the past few weeks. There were only so many times you could repeat yourself before you understood that Tre was doing this intentionally. He chose work over you and that hurt most of all.

Over the next few days, Tre slept on the couch while you continued to sleep in your big, cold bed. You avoided each other as much as possible, both unwilling to look each other in the eye as your words echoed in the silent halls.

You managed to move around each other, never speaking and communicating with sighs and grunts. He was spending less and less time at work, coming home earlier and earlier. It was something. But was it enough for you? Was he only doing this because he thought he didn’t want to leave you?

You were coming home more often to Tre already having dinner started or finished, phone nowhere to be seen. Your tempers flashed hot and burned easily, so by the fourth day, you were not surprised that Tre was leaving notes for you. Reaching out to grab your hand sometimes or looking at you with rare heat in his eyes.

That was definitely something you missed these past few weeks. He’d been too tired or too worked up to hold and caress you. To make love to you like you missed. Your previous hurt was still etched into your heart and you weren’t sure what it would take to believe this version of him. Believe that he wanted to change and this wasn’t just an act.

You were on the couch, curled up with a smutty book. Somebody had to get laid around here. You were in the middle of a juicy part, snuggling deeper into your emerald throw blanket as the words played a movie in your head. Tre’s thick thighs entered your field of vision.

You glanced up and was met with gray sweatpants showing a very impressive bulge. Tre at rest was already a monster to begin with. Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him. He grinned, scooting past you to sit on the couch. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, showing off plenty of tattoos that your mouth watered to trace with your tongue.

Tre cleared his throat, taking off his glasses and man spreading by putting his feet on the table. You were already annoyed by that, but he cracked open his own book, adjusting his body to get more comfortable.

Was this motherfucker for real? A flush of heat made you grip the throw blanket tighter around your shoulders. You curled into your end of the couch, pulling your legs to sit underneath you. Your thick thighs didn’t allow you to stay in this position for long, but you hoped the building ache kept your mind off of the fact that he was being an ass.

You focused on your book, on the heat and passion of the sex scene you were reading. But the actor you casted in your mind was quickly replaced with Tre. The female main character was swapped with you. You pictured Tre doing the same nasty things as the characters in the book.

You sighed for the tenth time, getting hotter by each word that you read. The male main character started talking nasty, growling in the girl’s ear. Your body shivered, practically hearing Tre’s voice saying those same nasty things in your ear.

Fucker. He knew those sweatpants were dangerous. You huffed again and Tre cleared his throat. “Something the matter, baby?” He asked.

“Nope, all good,” you answered too quickly, but you didn’t care. You were having an entire crisis where you sat while he sat there so peacefully. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye to see the hint of a smirk on his lips.

You loved a well-read man. You knew that he truly was reading and he also knew that it further turned you on. You huffed and adjusted yourself on the couch, moving your legs to the side of you. It relieved the burning ache in your thighs and calves and you hummed in relief.

You narrowed your eyes, determined to re-cast the characters in your mind. But instantly, your mind was creating an entire scene in your head. This was ridiculous. You weren’t going to be subject to this torture, not while Tre refused to apologize.

You stood up and let the couch throw blanket fall from your shoulders. Cold air hit your skin and you wanted to sigh in relief again, but you refused. You smiled at him and he smiled sweetly at you. “Goodnight baby,” he said.

You knew his back hurt from sleeping on the couch but you refused to be the first one to budge in this matter. He needed to do this because he wanted to and not because of some game between you. Though, it looked like he was winning so far.

You trudged up the stairs, intent on going straight to sleep. You laid down in the dark, thoughts of Tre blowing your back out lulling you to sleep.

Tre became unbearable. He was always catching you at the wrong moment, leaving you flustered and like he was inflicting ten plus psychic damage to your kitty. It was well on its way to purring every time he walked into the room wearing a combination that made your head spin.

First it was the gray sweatpants. Then he came home drenched in sweat, wearing compression shorts underneath his basketball shorts. He had a small white towel tucked in the waistband of his pants and you wanted to tug it down further so that you could see his Adonis belt.

If that wasn’t enough, you were trying to ignore that he was in the shower while you were laying in bed. He yelled for you to help grab him a towel because he forgot his. When you passed the soft towel to him through the door, you saw his reflection in the mirror. He winked at you as your eyes traveled down, down, down and then you shrieked and backed away. You felt insane for peeping on your own boyfriend, but his ass was well rounded, sculpted, muscles jumping.

You fanned yourself thinking of it. You had to get him back. Had to start playing dirty yourself. You went deep into your closet, pulling out the skimpy lounge wear. The too tiny shorts, the lady boxers, the oversized T-shirts.

You walked into the kitchen one Saturday morning, surprised to find him drinking coffee at the rounded dining room table. He had a newspaper in his hand, glasses on but he was looking over the rim. Now he was just being dramatic.

You sauntered into the kitchen, wearing a purple oversized T-shirt, the kind that rode up whenever you leaned over. You did such a thing, reaching up for the mugs at the higher shelf. Tre moved them some time ago, telling you he did it on purpose so you’d ask for his help.

“Need help, baby?” Tre asked, his voice gruff.

“No, thank you, baby. I got it,” you said. You managed to snag a mug without it falling on your head and then started the coffee machine. It hissed and roared to life, and you went around the kitchen, opening cabinets and closing them.

Tre cleared his throat. “Are you looking for something?” He asked.

“I’m trying to decide if I want to move things around in here. Or get rid of what we aren’t using. What do you think?” You asked. You lifted on your tiptoes, looking into the spice cabinet.

“Whatever you think is best, baby,” he said. He cleared his throat again and you looked at him over your shoulder.

“Are you okay, baby? Do you need something for that throat?” You asked.

“No, ma’am,” he said and flicked the newspaper, returning his attention to it. You moved to grab your coffee, doctoring it up how you liked. Then, you sat at the table with him and crossed your legs, in plain view. Tre watched your movements covertly, a smirk playing about his lips.

You smirked back. It carried on like this for another week, tension so thick in the house that you could cut it with a knife. He teased you mercilessly with things you’d told him were sexy on him. His loungewear or his jeans. The way he manspread all over the couch.

You continued to tease him, parading around in your bonnets and pajamas, short shorts, and leggings. You’d caught him staring a few times, biting his lip and that noticeable bulge getting thicker and thicker.

You were at your wit’s end by the time the following weekend rolled around. He had been consistently coming home, spending more time around the house doing things for himself. Getting back into his vinyl records, playing the odd game, or doing a few pushups and crunches on the floor of your home gym.

You were in the laundry room, pulling warm clothes out of the dryer and placing it in a wooden basket, when Tre cornered you in the room. He blocked you from leaving and bit his lip, looking you up and down. You weren’t wearing anything revealing, just some gray joggers and a tank top. He looked at you like he could see you naked beneath it.

Tre hummed and walked into the room, making you back away with a smirk on your face. “You think you’re slick,” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, all sugary sweet and innocent. You adjusted the laundry basket on your hip and continued backing away until your butt hit the countertop.

The marble surface was smooth and cold on your butt, providing some relief to the raging heat burning through you. Tre leaned in, smelling heavenly. Like green sage and sandalwood. He gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer and pressing a feather light kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy, please forgive me,” he whispered.

You were tempted. Tempted worse than a kid facing down two cookies if he waited and didn’t eat the first one. You took a deep inhale of his scent, bringing your nose closer to his neck. His thick beard tickled your cheeks but you kept going, wanting to crawl into his skin.

“Are you going to take me seriously?” You asked.

He groaned, stepping closer. “Haven’t I shown you that I have?” He asked.

“But how do I know that you won’t go running the next time your phone rings?” You asked.

He sighed, nudging your jaw with his nose. He inhaled your scent as well, breathing in the tropical, fruity lotion you wore. His breath fanned across your overheated skin. Your knees were weak, wobbly, and you were struggling to stay upright.

As if you summoned the damn thing, his phone rang in his pocket. Your smile dropped, body cooling. You smiled at him, hoping he didn’t see the hurt on your face. “Duty calls,” you sang.

You pushed against his body and he stepped back with a sigh and a frown. You avoided looking at his eyes, walking out of the laundry room. The air had turned stifling in the laundry room but now you had room to breathe. For your heart to calm down.

You went into the bedroom, wanting to sit on the bed while you folded laundry. But the soft click of the door made you turn around to see Tre. He turned his pockets inside out, showing you that there was no phone. He turned in a slow circle, lifting his shirt, and you got a great view of the curve of his ass and his back.

He held out his arms. “Phone’s off,” he said, sounding pleased as punch.

You held onto the laundry basket, using it as a barrier. You’d need it. Because if you gave in, if you let your libido speak for you, you were getting pregnant that damn night. After nearly two weeks of teasing and edging, you were ready to combust. Ready to explode. Your fingers curled around the stiff wood of the basket and you smirked.

“Cute,” you said.

He smiled. He stepped forward slowly, looking at you with that cute, mischievous smile on his face. “Forgive me,” he said.

You tilted your head. “Why should I?” You asked. Maybe you could pick a fight and keep him at bay. Keep that fire out of his eyes. He had to stop looking at you like that. Had to stop keeping one hundred percent of his focus on you.

“Because I heard you, baby. I don’t want to wake up five years from now, alone and watching my life pass me by. I want to build with you, grow with you, and show you that I am listening. I will do better because I know that I want you here, home, with me,” he said.

Was it possible to get pregnant with just a few words? There was a strange twinge in your belly that told you it just might be possible. You wanted to melt into a puddle and grin like a loon.

“Pretty words,” you said, some part of you enjoying poking him. He was unfazed. He put his hands on the laundry basket. When had he gotten so close?

He smiled as he gently tugged it from your hands. You stepped forward, not wanting to get rid of your last remaining barrier. That last bit of resistance. You didn’t want to believe this. Didn’t want to get comfortable with it only for him to fall into old patterns and leave you looking like Bozo the clown.

However, with him looking into your eyes and the way you’d been on edge the past few days, your arms started to slacken. If you didn’t find relief soon, the type of relief only he could give, the next time you brushed against a table you were going to cum on the spot.

Tre tugged the basket from your hands and placed it on the ottoman at the end of the bed. He invaded your personal space, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “What is it gonna take for you to forgive me?” He asked.

You looked towards the ceiling. You were on fire. You were in shambles. You were not okay with his proximity. It took everything in you not to jump his bones. But you were always folding first. It was time for him to grovel a smidgen.

“I’d have to know that you’re really, really sorry,” you said. You smiled, grabbing his hands and leading him to the bed. He raised an eyebrow, smiling and following you. The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed and you sat down.

You were eye level with his bulge, growing thicker by the second. He was back in heather gray sweatpants, dick print protruding through the fabric.

“How can I show that?” He asked, a light teasing in his voice.

You laid back on the bed with a self-indulgent smile. “Ravish me until I say otherwise.” you said.

Tre chuckled, leaning over the bed so that he could start tugging on your joggers and panties. He pulled it off of your legs in one quick snap and you shrieked from the rough action. Perhaps you weren’t the only one at your limit. Ready to snap.

Tre dropped to his knees, licking his lips as he caught a glimpse of your gleaming pussy. He smoothed his hands on your thighs, nudging them apart. He hummed, getting his first full look in a month and a half. Your pussy throbbed from the look in his eyes.

His thumbs dug into your meaty thighs, finding pressure points that made your teeth instantly chatter. He leaned forward, taking a deep breath, inhaling your scent. He sighed with his mouth open, air fanning across your damp pussy. Had you known that you were gonna have sex today, you might have cleaned up a little. Freshened up better.

But Tre had no reservation as he kissed your thighs. Kissed the side of your knees. He moved your thighs over his shoulders, rubbing his nose in your essence. You sighed with a light moan, closing your eyes. This was it. You were going to go off like a bottle rocket any moment.

“Baby, I want you to know that I am so, very, very sorry. I made you feel alone and I never wanted to treat you that way,” he whispered to your pussy. You almost felt like an intruder. You peeked at him over your belly and saw his eyes completely focused on the center of you.

His tongue darted out and licked up the slit of your center and you hissed, leaning away from him. With his hands wrapped around your thighs, you had nowhere to go. He successfully immobilized you as he continued to slowly coax you open. Your slick dripped down your pussy and you moaned, thighs tingling.

“Fuck,” you moaned. Unable to stand it. He had to go faster. Had to get you off as soon as possible. Couldn’t he tell that you were dying over here?

“I will never, ever, ever, abandon you like that again. You are what is most important to me. I will make sure you know that every day,” he said. He followed up his words with licks and groans, slurping on your essence. Your moans turned into desperate whimpers.

“Every, single, day,” he said, punctuating every word with a lick to your clit. His lush lips latched on and began to suck, wringing desperate cries from you. Pressure built in your tummy, building and building, going higher and higher, until white light flashed behind your eyes as you came on his tongue.

He moaned, continuing to eat you out through it. You were sensitive as hell, twitching with every new lick, every new moan, every new suckle. But it felt so good, that you were heading into another orgasm. Or it could be prolonged from the first. You weren’t sure as you thrashed your head back and forth, upper body twisting on the bed.

You pushed at his head, tiny cries and whimpers. Tre kept going, grabbing your hands and pinning them to the bed. You whined, moving your hips. But you only managed to move your pussy against his face, his beard tickling your pussy and thighs.

“Please, baby, please, baby, please,” you chanted.

“Cum f’me one more time,” he groaned. He increased his efforts, abusing your poor little clit. The sensitive bud was driving you insane but you continued to beg for more. You screamed into the room, releasing another orgasm. Tre’s satisfied hum vibrated against your pussy as he licked you until you came back down.

He pulled away from your pussy, long spit chain still connected you two. Your body was on fire, damp with sweat, as you panted and huffed from such intense orgasms back to back.

“Look at you, All nice and creamy. All wet and ripping. You making a fuckin’ mess,” he murmured. His voice was rough, deep, sending shivers up and down your spine.

Your pussy clenched and clenched around nothing. You didn’t know if you had another in you, but you were struggling against his hold. You needed him inside you right fucking now. You looked at Tre as he still glanced at your pussy. His beard was shiny with your mess. He finally let you go, wiping more of your juices into his beard, getting it nice and coated. It grew rough in the weeks he wasn’t worshiping your throbbing hole.

Tre stood up, rubbing the bulge over his pants. You sat up, licking his stomach and then looking up at him. He grinned at you. You grinned back and then bit his stomach, grabbing a big bite without clamping down. Tre chuckled, stomach jostling in your mouth. You released him and smiled.

You tugged his pants down, freeing his long glorious dick. Slightly curved, you missed his dick. You kissed the tip, unable to resist being apart for too long. You looked up at him and then opened your mouth.

Tre chuckled, grabbed the base of his shaft and tapping it against your tongue. He rolled his hips, rubbing his thick head against your tongue. He groaned, throwing his head back for a brief moment.

“You forgive me, baby?” He asked. He coated your lips with his precum and then slipped back inside your mouth.

“I’m getting there,” you groaned around his dick. It sounded a bit muffled but Tre laughed so he must have heard you. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, looking at you like you hung the moon.

It sent a wave of feel good chemicals flooding your system and you closed your mouth around his dick. Tre hissed, pulling out of your mouth. He stroked back inside, holding your face while he face fucked you.

You relaxed your throat and mouth, letting him use you exactly how you needed. You moaned at the salty taste of his precum hitting your tongue. You swallowed what you could, trying to re-learn the shape and feel of his dick. The curve made him accidentally poke your cheek and you looked up at him.

Tre moaned, sighing with a quick, rushed, “fuck.” He continued stroking, taking what he needed from your mouth. You slobbered and slurped on him, getting his dick nice and wet. He slipped out of you suddenly and you whined, looking at him.

“I wanna cum in that tight, dripping pussy, baby. On them knees,” he said and licked his lip. The gold chain around his neck twinkled from the overhead light. You grinned, getting off of the bed.

You stood up and turned around. Before you kneeled on the bed, Tre stopped you and lifted your tank top off of your shoulders. You lifted your arms and let him pull it off of you. You smiled over your shoulder while Tre kissed your neck. You moaned, tilting your head so he had more access.

His fingers came around your chest, fondling your breasts and pinching your nipples. You moaned, desperate tinny cries. He stepped forward, making you bend over the bed.

You climbed on, bending your knees and sticking your ass in the air. Tre hummed, running his hands over your ass. He squeezed and kneaded, putting you at ease and making you respond to his humming.

He placed two quick kisses to the globes of your ass, following it up with love bites. “Hey!” You said.

Tre chuckled. “Missed your cute ass. Forgiven me yet, woman? I’m trynna love on you,” he said.

“I don’t know. I think better with dick inside me,” you said. The air whooshed from your lungs as Tre shoved in, leaving you no room to prepare. You screeched, falling forward onto your face.

Tre hummed with deep relief, like stepping into a jacuzzi after a long day. You shrieked and shivered, feeling stretched out to the max. Fuck. You forgot how big he was. How deeply and completely he filled you up.

“Thinking more clearly, baby?” He asked, his voice full of teasing. You could hear the smile in his voice. Fucker.

You drew in deep breaths, getting acclimated to his size. You got onto your elbows and then stretched your back, giving you a better arch. Tre groaned, pulling back and then slamming back in.

“Fuck,” you choked out.

He repeated the motion, pulling out to the tip and then slamming back in. Your ass smacked loudly against his thighs, wet slaps echoing in the room.

“Gon’ answer me?” He asked.

“Fuck, yes, I’m thinking more clearly,” you whined. Your mind was clear. Fuck whatever he did, he just needed to keep stroking into you just as he was doing.

He made it worse. He started increasing his pace, slamming you back on his dick in quick, hard thrusts that shook your whole body with the force of it. You choked on your whines and moans, choked on his dick spearing you from the inside out.

You creamed on his dick and he moaned. “Goddamn, you feeling so good. So nice and wet, baby. You hear that?” He asked.

You nodded, but eventually let out a squeaky, “yes.” Yes, you heard your pussy sucking him down greedily. Yes, you heard the evidence of your arousal. He made you cum so many times already, but you were building towards another one.

“Hmm, I feel you clutching this dick. Show me what’s yours, baby,” he groaned. His voice was rough with his arousal, deep with his lust. He stroked so deep, hitting all your good spots.

He grunted and smacked your ass, gathering some of your slick with his fingers playing with your clit. You cried out and jerked forward, interrupting the rhythm. Tre removed his fingers, picking up the pace once more. Then he brought those wet fingers to your ass, rubbing his thumb around your tight, puckered hole. Your teeth chattered as he continued to push inward, push past that bit of resistance.

Now, you really felt full. “Oh, baby, fuck, please,” you cried out.

“Be a good little girl and cum on this dick,” he growled.

“Shit,” you whispered as you did just that, flooding his dick with fresh slick. He slipped more easily inside of you, grunting as you clenched around his throbbing dick. He moaned, increasing his strokes until he was soon following after.

His hot cum shot inside of you, painting your creamy walls with his cum. Your back bowed and he wiggled his thumb in your ass. Drool leaked from your lips as you came down from your climax.

Tre slowed his movements, pumping the last of it inside of you. He stilled his hips, kept you plugged up with his dick. You shivered and twitched on him, completely spent and out of breath. He kissed down your spine, rubbing your back. You groaned. Somehow, he zeroed in on your problem areas, the parts of your back that ached and ached all the time.

“Baby? You forgive me?” He asked.

You whimpered. He expected you to talk after something like that? You needed at least two days to recover.

“I forgive you, baby. Just…please don’t do that again,” you said, your voice small. Tre stilled with his lips against your back. He nodded once and then nodded again like he was confirming for himself as well.

“I won’t. I’ll be right here with you,” he promised. He softened inside of you and slowly slipped out. You groaned. Tre spread your asscheeks and watched his cum slowly glide out of your pussy.

He cursed softly. “Need to do this more often, you made such a mess,” he said.

You chuckled. You were a limp noodle at the moment. You were unable to move a muscle. Not a single twitch. Tre kissed your cheek, smacking your ass lightly while he went to grab a washcloth. He cleaned you off and then got onto the bed with you.

He pulled you into the crook of his arm, snuggling against your back. Your ass wiggled against his dick.

“Behave,” he grunted. He pulled you as far as you were able to go and wrapped his strong arms around you. You stayed in bed for the rest of the day, talking and laughing, and enjoying each other like you used to do.

You only left the bed long enough to get food, laughing your way back to each other. Renewing your commitment to each other with every smile, every joke, and every twinkle in your eyes.

There's more Tre to love! The Secret Tre Files

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vettelsvee · 8 months ago

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YOU'RE JALEOUS | Charles Leclerc

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles gets jaleous of lando when he sees him talking with his girlfriend

wordcount: 1529

a/n: it's been a long time coming but i'm finally here! i've actually had this saved on my drafts for quite a long time BUT never posted it. however, since we got charles pole today, i thought you might like this even tough is a crap (i'm so sorry, you absolutely deserve better works) :)

you can send your one shots requests here or via anon! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Charles and you decided to attend a party they had been invited by someone the driver didn’t even know, that took place at one of the most famous venues in Monaco. Although you initially felt intimidated because none of Leclerc's colleagues had appeared yet, as you drank a few drinks, the music seemed interesting enough for you to dance along with the twinkling lights.

To say that Leclerc was happy with his performance on the track that afternoon would be a li. His pride was immense because he had finally achieved the victory: winning not only for the first time in 2024 season, but also winning his very own home race for the first time ever. This had led to great acclaim not only from his fans but also from specialists, the press, the team, and even his colleagues, who were eagerly awaiting il predestinato's return to the victories.

In those moments, with his shiny black suit highlighting his appearance and, especially, his trained body, he felt unique, and even more so with you by his side. You were matching your partner perfectly with the dazzling dress you were wearing and that fit you perfectly.

As you enjoyed a drink in a quiet corner after a long time on the dance floor, Leclerc wrapped his arm around your waist, intending to bring you closer to his side. Your eyes met, somewhat mischievous, leading to a playful smile forming on your lips.

"Charles, you’ve been incredible in today's race," you exclaimed with excitement, proudly praising your boyfriend's talent. "I'm so proud of you."

Charles returned your smile, feeling filled with joy by your unconditional support.

"Thank you, darling. But what I'm proud of, and also lucky for, is having you in my life," he responded tenderly.

You continued chatting animatedly without an apparent topic of conversation, ranging from what would be your next holiday destination to the upcoming race, which would take place in Canada. However, when you started talking about a charity event that Charles would have the opportunity to lead, your gazes turned to a familiar figure approaching you: Lando Norris.

"Hey, Charles! Congratulations on that first place!" Norris exclaimed, excited to see his friend.

"Thanks, Lando!" the mentioned replied enthusiastically, patting the McLaren driver on the back. "You did great too. A sixth place is not what I expected from those cars, but it was truly impressive taking into account the strategy they had for you."

"Stop talking about McLaren when you know we can talk about Ferrari," Norris joked.

You observed the interaction between the two drivers with a mix of pride and curiosity. At first, you decide to give space to both guys, letting them freely discuss the day's events without the attentive gaze of a girl. However, when you finished checking your social media and posted a few Instagram stories with photos you took that morning, you decided to join the conversation.

"Lando, have you forgotten about me?" you teased. "I'm still in shock from today's race. It was a real spectacle."

"Thanks, Y/N!" He stopped looking at you and instead turned to his friend. "What do you think if we celebrate our incredible, but true, achievements together now? No one else is coming, and I talked to Carlos earlier!"

You looked at Charles, seeking his approval. He, a bit tipsy, nodded with a smile.

"I had other plans in mind but I think we can actually postpone them. Right, Y/N?"

With such a declaration, you three headed to the dance floor, not without first ordering something to drink to accompany you in your enjoyment full of laughter, excitement and dance moves that were surely the ones from someone who’s had enough drinks for a day.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, Charles noticed you stepping away from his side to join some members of the Ferrari team. He decided to follow you, ready to talk to his coworkers. To his surprise, you were chatting animatedly, in the midst of the crowd, with Lando, who had excused himself to go to the bathroom minutes before.

Jealousy and anger coursed through his body in a shiver. The Monegasque felt an urgent need to intervene and mark his territory. As much as he knew you didn't depend on him, and you were both completely independent individuals sometimes, moments like this were the ones where he felt a hint of insecurity about those who, apparently, dared, even minimally, to intrude on your relationship.

Forgetting his discretion and good judgment, Charles rushed towards you and the Brit, his eyes filled with determination and a threatening look on his face, ignoring the insults he had received from those drunkards he had punched.

"What's going on here?" he demanded to know in an authoritative and tense tone.

You and Lando turned, surprised, at Charles's intrusion. You looked at him, confused by the jealousy in your boyfriend's face. You were simply discussing with Norris the idea for a special party in Monaco the following week, just before the next Gran Prix, in honor of Charles’ recent victory.

"Love, you're misinterpreting things," you said, trying to stay calm. "We were just talking as friends," you emphasized the last word.

Leclerc clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger.

"I don't want you to keep talking to him," he communicated harshly, surprising you greatly.

Lando intervened, trying to alleviate the tension and, especially, to calm his friend's apparent sadness:

"Dude, you have no reason to make a scene in front of everyone over an insignificant bout of jealousy. We're just having a friendly conversation about something for next week, okay?"

Leclerc's expression became even tenser, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the symbiosis that you, his girlfriend, and Lando, his friend and opponent, seemed to have in hiding something.

"I wouldn't want to ask you again, so... What were you talking about?" Charles inquired in an even sharper tone.

Feeling you boyfriend's murderous gaze, you tried your best not to burst into tears over something as stupid as Charles's insecurity.

"Seriously, believe us," Lando spoke, trying to calm the brunette down. "You have to trust us, we were just talking about something we came up for next week just before Canada!"

The Ferrari driver tried to control his anger, if it was still possible. Meanwhile, he took his time to look at you with, once again, a mix of anger and disappointment, mainly for not answering him.

"And you, why don't you answer me? Are you only interested in him now?"

You looked at him surprised by such a comment, and tried to explain quickly:

"I'll repeat it again, honey: we were just having a friendly conversation! Lando is my friend and your rival, friend, or whatever you want to say it, but there's nothing more to it!"

Out of nowhere, Charles gently took you by the wrist and led you to a place where you could talk quietly. The green-eyed, despite having a bit more alcohol in his system than he should, knew he messed up and needed to fix it somehow.

"Y/N, please be honest: what were you talking about?" Leclerc asked with a concerned expression on his face for the scene he had caused.

"About what we could do in Monaco, here, next week, alright?" you responded, trying to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about anything"

"But why are you talking to him about racing?" the Monegasque insisted again, trying to calm his tone of jealousy. "I don't understand why you have to make plans with other drivers when you're my girlfriend."

"Charles, come on, don't be jealous!" you scolded with a playful smile. "Besides, what we were planning was a surprise party in your honor because, in case you don't remember, you just won your first home race ever. I don't think that's anything bad."

Charles felt really stupid at that moment.

"Are you jealous, my dearest friend?" Lando decided to intervene, who had been attentive the whole time to the intimate scene between the couple.

"What? No!" Leclerc replied as calmly as possible, his attempt in vain.

"Well, it seems quite the opposite to me," Norris said. "You should relax a bit. There's nothing wrong with your girlfriend talking to other drivers, even more so when she's preparing a party for you."

Il predestinato realized Norris was right and decided to calm down.You really didn't deserve the jerk behavior he was displaying at you at the moment.

"I guess you're right, Lando," he turned to you, timidly reaching for her hands. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have behaved like that."

"It's okay, Charles. I understand that sometimes jealousy can be hard to control, I feel the same way sometimes about your fans, but I manage, not like you just showed me tonight!" you answer with a smile, hitting him in his arm.

Charles felt relieved to see that you had no interest in Lando beyond friendship and planning a failed surprise party in the process. Therefore, he just enjoyed the rest of the night with you, with his friend, and without having to worry about anything else.

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scribbly-artist · 2 months ago

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Too Hard on Yourself

Summary: You’re working on an assigned project at Piltover Academy, and while most of the time you pick up new things quickly, this time, you haven’t. You’re frustrated with yourself, crying at your workbench. However, you old friend Jayce Talis is here to make you feel better.

Author’s Notes: Thanks to the anon for submitting this request!! They had asked for ler!Jayce and lee!reader platonically, and I was happy to deliver. This was my first time writing for Jayce, so I hope he doesn’t sound super OOC. :) I locked in so hard writing this one which I’m surprised with, as I’m dead tired from travelling this weekend. I hope you enjoy! If you’d like to see a fic from me, feel free to send in an ask request and I’ll see what I can do!

Words: ~2,000 | AO3 Link

A very long, exhausting day looks like it will end in tears for you as you lay your head straight down on the workbench, droplets escaping from your eyes that you couldn't control.

Why did everything have to be so hard? You were trying your best, but things just weren't going your way lately.

You've been enrolled into the Piltover Academy starting this year. It took everything within your mind and body to pass the exam to even get into it in the first place. You wanted to push yourself to do better, for yourself and for your city. For the most part, you enjoyed being here. The classes, the people, the teachers.

Though, sometimes, information and topics went way over your head, making tasks a lot harder than they should be. Usually, most subjects and instructions just clicked with you - you thought of yourself as a fast and efficient learner. But when you really didn’t get something and tried hard to combat the issue, your failures and lack of understanding really, really upset you. This project you were assigned was one of those difficult times.

Your class was handed blueprints to build this device. From the visual alone, it was quite complex, even for your class to handle. Some people started their tasks effortlessly, some had stayed back to try to get as much of it done before they left for the day to try again tomorrow.

Except for you.

The sun was setting, the orange glow bouncing off the walls and the pieces of machinery some students had left on their work benches. Fragments of light ricocheted off the countless shiny pieces of metal in just the wrong places, blinding you as you raised your head up to wipe at your eyes.

There were a lot of delicate and small parts concerning this device. You didn’t want to break anything accidentally, or screw it up at all. In your mind, everything had to be perfect. If it didn’t turn out perfect, to you it meant that your skills were severely lacking, bringing your self-esteem and self-worth way down.

Your mind was foggy, it was hard to think. Your anxiety was at its peak, you were so frustrated with yourself. Your head felt like it was spinning as it pounded, your eyes hurt from being wide open for so long, and you were so, so tired. Reaching up to your face, you rubbed your eyes, trying to will the tears away so you could attempt to calm down.

However, there was an echo of footsteps coming from the entrance of the room. You quickly attempted to clean yourself up, swiping the tears on your face and whipping your head around to see who it was.

It was Jayce Talis, your long time friend from way back when. Oh no. He was fast approaching with a smile on his face, as usual.

You didn't want him to see you like this. Despite knowing him for so long, you don’t want him to think of you as weak. You snapped your head back around, picking up the blueprints in front of you so that you could maybe use them to hide your face, or make yourself look busy. “Hi, Jayce…” you managed to croak out, trying to not let your emotions spill over.

“Hey, I see you're burning the midnight oil,” he commented, sauntering over to your bench, placing a hand down on the edge as he leaned his weight against it. His head craned over, trying to get a look at your face. “What do the professors have you doing this week?”

“They've just assigned us to build this thing…” you muttered, not engaging much in the conversation. You hoped that maybe if you were stand-offish enough that Jayce might leave, as awful as that sounded.

But Jayce noticed.

You never acted this way around him, you could light up a room with your presence and charm. Jayce knew something was up. “Is everything okay?” He quizzed, concern laced in his voice.

At first, you didn’t know how to respond. You were never one to really open yourself up when you had problems - you absolutely never wanted to bother or worry your loved ones. You wanted to stay silent, but from his question, emotions already started boiling like a pot on a stove inside you. “It’s fine, Jayce, really…” you mumbled, holding the blueprint close to your face, the paper nearly touching your nose. “I just need to brute force through this, I’ll get it eventually…”

He raised an eyebrow in suspicion, not believing your words. Then his expression softened as he saw your face. You were holding back tears, the liquid pooling right along the edges of your eyes. They looked red and puffy, same with your nose, he got the hint that you were probably crying way before he came into the room. He frowned at the sight, shifting his weight so he was now standing up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“There’s something obviously wrong,” he started, placing his hand on the back of your chair. His voice was soft as he spoke. “You can tell me anything… you know that, right?”

That was the moment your tears started to spill, flowing down your cheeks. You dropped the blueprint back onto the table as you buried your head down into your hands.

“I don’t get how any of this works, Jayce - I’ve tried so h-hard to understand, I… I should know how this works…” you breathed out between quiet sobs, muffled from your hands being latched to your face. Jayce placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as you shook. “Maybe I’m not cut out to be here… I should have just gone into the family business like m-my parents wanted…!”

“Don’t say that!” Jayce cut in, quickly going to another bench and pulling up a chair so he could sit next to you on your level. He placed his hand back on your shoulder. “It’s okay to not understand things - I know you pick new things up quick, but it’s okay to be confused. You can’t be a perfectionist at everything, no one can.”

You slowly turned your head to look over to him, the sight of your tear-stained face breaking his heart. “If I can’t get this right, then what’s t-the point? Everyone else seemed to know w-what they were doing… I don’t want people to think I’m stupid…”

“You’re far from stupid!” Jayce’s eyebrows furrowed together at hearing your words. “I’ve seen what you can do - all the amazing things you managed to make when we were kids! You impress me so, so much with your skill and creativity! There’s some things even I can’t do that you pull off effortlessly! Hell, you’re probably one of the smartest ones here!”

You sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand. You opened your mouth to speak, but Jayce spoke up once again, your mouth snapping shut.

“I won’t allow you to beat yourself up - you have so much potential! I know you do, because I’ve seen it first hand! Sure, sometimes things won’t click straight away. But I’ve seen how hard you work. If I believe in you, I know you can do it. You’ve got a brilliant mind you need to use for good!”

Silent at first, you weren’t sure how to take all of this in. Your eyes looked up at Jayce’s face, he looked so confident in his words. While you didn’t one hundred percent believe what he was saying just yet, his little speech did make you feel at least a little bit better. But only just a little bit.

“Thank you, Jayce… and, I’m sorry for ugly crying in front of you,” you let out a cough as you sniffled, using the back of your hand to wipe your face. “I think I just bottled up the frustration and it just… exploded.”

Jayce released his hand from your shoulder and pulled out a white handkerchief from his back pocket, bringing it up to your face to swipe at your eyes and cheeks. “I can’t bear to see you pull yourself down like that - you can do so much, and I want to see you do your best. You have so much potential you haven’t acted on yet.” The handkerchief was embroidered on its edge, the frills fluttering gently against your skin. The soft touch was starting to feel ticklish on your face as you scrunched up your nose, leaning back in your chair. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

“Jayce, seriously - I can clean myself up,” you spoke as you waved a hand in front of your face in dismissal, but Jayce’s face started to light up with a happy grin. You could see the gears turning in his head. “No, no Jayce, don’t get any ideas.” You warned, but your tone wasn’t serious by any means.

“Sorry, it’s a bit too late for that.” As soon as he spoke, his hands darted to your sides, ticklishly wiggling into your skin. You let out a loud laugh, hands gripping onto his wrists to stabilise yourself.

When you got upset when you were younger, tickling you was always Jayce’s way to make you feel better. He would tickle you silly, until you couldn’t even recall what made you upset in the first place. Though, he hadn’t had to do it in a long time - since you’ve just been letting everything negative emotion bottle up inside you.

His fingers continued their onslaught on your sides, scribbling up and down, up and down. You cackled as you threw your head back, hitting it against the back of the chair. Jayce let out a laugh of his own, a bright smile on his own face. “You needed this; I just know you did.” He teased you as he switched things up, one of his hands moving to prod at your stomach. You burst out with more laughter.

“Jayce— ahahaha!! Quit it!!” You exclaimed through your laughter, your cheeks growing red. Jayce just shook his head with a smirk etched on his face.

“Not until you’re feeling better. After all, isn’t laughter the best medicine?” Jayce commented as his wandering hands switched things up once again, managing to slip between your arms to attack your poor ribs. Your grip on his wrists tightened, nearly digging into the skin with your nails. You shook your head about, you were extra sensitive on your ribs.

The laughs that Jayce drew from you started to grow hiccupy, making you sound similar to a hyena. Jayce couldn’t help himself and laughed alongside you. But you were hitting a limit, and Jayce could tell, as tears — tears of happiness and joy — started rolling down your face to replace the tears of sadness that stained your face mere minutes before. “I-It’s— hehehEHEHE! Too much, Jahahahayce!” You begged through your laughter.

Jayce didn’t want to push you any further than what you were comfortable with, so he slowed to a stop, placing a hand on top of your head to ruffle your hair. You reached up with your own two hands to place on top of his, groaning with a laugh. “See, what wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Ugh, shut up,” you mumbled as you pushed his hand off of your head, standing up from your seat, Jayce doing the same. “Well, staying here anymore won’t do me any good.” You spoke up, getting an idea as you looked at Jayce. “If I still can’t figure this out tomorrow… would you maybe come and help me if you’re not busy with your research?”

Jayce’s eyes crinkled up with joy as he nodded his head. You very rarely ask for help, so knowing you’re coming to him of all people for assistance made his heart swell. “Of course - I’m glad you’re asking for my help,” he placed a hand on your back, and with a little push, you both started to walk towards the room’s exit. “Hey, let’s get something to eat before we go home. My treat.” His shining smile beamed down onto you as you looked up to him.

“Sounds like a plan.” You responded with your own small smile and a laugh as you both walked out. You felt much better already, you decided you’d ask for help much more often. It felt better to let everything out.

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