#yours always make me chuckle and make my day haha

[novicedraws]

Hi!

I've been screaming at your art in my tags, but it's time to pluck up the courage and say it face to face in your ask as well. XD

Your art is amazing and inspiring and I'm completely normal about it aagfhhhhhhhh I love the way you draw faces, and how you work with shapes, and your clean lineart, and all the ideas... I screech like a wild animal every time I see a new post from you, thank you for making our days better with your work! 💖💖💖

KAHDNSOAHAISJS?????????

Thank you??!!! That’s so sweet 😭😭😭😭

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"His only one." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

You are his only one, Daryl told you that the day you got married, that's why you don't mind the neighbors' blatant flirting with your husband, but the third time's the charm, and at that moment, you make clear to that woman that his ass belongs to you (literally)

A/N: Someone here asks for someone to write about Daryl and the flirty neighbors making him feel uncomfortable haha ​​so this is my failed attempt, although it made me smile a little so I hope you like it at least a little, too. Thanks!

The first time it happens, you let it go.

It's not that you don’t care, but you know that a relationship is built on trust, and if there is one person you trust even after someone had put a blindfold on you, that’s Daryl. Daryl was quiet most of the time, but his personality was actually very funny after you saw who he really was when you two were alone, when you saw his true self behind his crossbow and the way he used to push others away for fear of getting too attached. But when Daryl became open about showing his own vulnerabilities, only with you, it was so easy to fall for him, plus, the love and shyness in his gaze every time he saw you coming was sweet—a love only reserved for you.

After Daryl let you in, you realized he had a lot to offer as a person with a good and brave heart, so willing to protect others even if it put his own life at risk. Daryl was always a good company: he spoke little but paid attention, remembering even the smallest detail that you swore was unimportant, just because to him, everything related to you was important. But when he asked you to marry him along the way, that was a big surprise. However, you found a shelter in his arms, a real home with him: and maybe because his gaze always made you trust that there would be no one else, you never doubted him even after you saw how the neighbors turned to look at him. Maybe it was also because everyone was focused on his exterior, on that almost pornographic image that Daryl was, (with his broad shoulders, his arms in that sassy sleeveless shirt, and that face that seemed carved by God when HE was in a VERY good mood) but no one paid attention beyond the obvious, so you never felt threatened.

Now, slowly, like a pretty moving photograph, the sun starts to hide away in the infinite horizon, painting the calm sky of that new world with beautiful shades of orange. The end of the day is quiet on your home, with your husband sitting on the porch steps, carving an arrow because several are never enough, Carol on the wooden floor close to you while she solves another crossword puzzle, and you, rocking lazily in the rocking chair, eyes and mind on the book you managed to find in the last search for supplies.

A comfortable silence abounds in the air, until Miss Ellie walks by on her way to her own home.

"Hi, neighbor." She practically purrs, with a bright smile and the way the corner of her lip curls like a kitten's.

Like meerkats when danger is latent, the three of you raise your heads (almost in a comical way) to see her walking away, watching her lowering the hand with which she had just greeted Daryl, and only Daryl: although his first reaction is to look in your direction, like he’s asking for help to understand what the hell was that. You know Daryl has a tough exterior, but his personality, when it came to accepting flirtations, almost reached the point of stuttering.

“Wait a sec, weren't there three of us here?” Carol asks, frowning playfully.

“Yeah… did we suddenly become Casper the damn Friendly Ghost?” You chuckle, turning your attention back to the book. “Not to state the obvious, but I think the neighbor has a crush on you, love.”

Carol chuckles too, but your disinterest in the matter and his best friend's mockery makes Daryl frown even harder.

“Whatcha waitin' for, woman? Go over there and defend yer husband’s honor.” He says with a swing of his hand.

Carol shrugs, agreeing with him.

“Well, she just looked at Daryl like he was a piece of meat, (Y/N).”

You nod, but you don’t even bother to look up.

“I know. But going there would only prove Daryl has some interest in her, and since I know he doesn’t, I don’t see why I should bother.”

Daryl scoffs, but he knows you are absolutely right, so he returns his attention back to the arrow.

“I see yer not even the slightest bit afraid of losin’ me, woman.”

Carol chuckles at your silence.

"Yeah, (Y/N), I mean, Daryl's such a great catch, especially with his gruff personality."

You chuckle.

“I know. I know the neighbors have been staring at him ever since we arrived in the community, but I don't blame them because, look at him..." From top to bottom, you point at him with one hand, still paying attention to the words in the book. "Daryl is like walking porn."

Carol laughs, longer this time, but your unfiltered words make Daryl blush under the sunset as he keeps his eyes down, still carving the same arrow.

The second time it happens, you are a little far to say something.

At the end of the day, you arrive last to the community meeting after your rotating job at the infirmary, taking your place against the concrete wall in Deanna’s backyard. Alexandria’s head keeps talking, directing people and you pay attention for a moment, until your sight catches the image of Mary several steps away from you, who is probably one of the most striking neighbors, and the way her mischievous fingers try to touch the exposed skin of Daryl’s bare arm as she keeps trying to make a conversation with him, who looks like a kitten cornered in an alley by a pack of dogs, while giving her weird looks that she doesn't seem to notice.

The comparison makes you laugh, but you stifle the laughter with a gentle smile when some of the neighbors in front of you turn around. Waving back, they turn their attention to the front, and you keep your eyes ahead too even after you feel your husband’s presence next to you, after a very short while.

“What did I miss?”

Daryl shrugs.

“The same shit as always. How was work?”

“Quiet, just two people with a cold and a baby who came for his second vaccine.” You try to keep a calm expression as you speak your next words through a softer voice. “You are a grown ass man, Daryl Dixon, and yet you looked terrified of a small woman.”

Embarrassed, he grunts.

“What do ya want me to do? Fight her? That’s yer job n' ya ain’t doin’ it.”

You chuckle.

“I don’t fight over a man, love, never did, never will.”

Daryl crosses his arms over his chest, eyes still ahead.

“I forgot ma wife is the most unbothered person in this damn world.”

You chuckle again.

“There are priorities even in this life, my dear husband, but if you want, next time we go on a supply run we can take her with us, and something mysterious can happen to her. We can make it look like an accident.”

You’re joking and Daryl knows it, so he chuckles, the corner of his lips curling adorably.

When the meeting is over and everyone returns to the safety of their homes, you and Daryl are one of the first to leave, walking side by side to your house that is almost on the other side of the community. The weather is warm during that season, and for the first time in a long time, the night doesn't grow deeper, darker or scarier. However, your gaze travels from the moon to your hand when you feel your husband's on yours.

You frown, making an amused expression.

"What are you doing?"

Daryl mimics the look on your face.

"What? I can't take ma wife's hand?" He scoffs.

You shrug, looking ahead again, but knowing that some neighbors are behind you, with Mary between them since her house is close to yours.

You know why he's doing that like never before. Daryl is reserved with his married life, always keeping his displays of affection within four walls or while being alone with you, too shy and slightly awkward to let other people see how needy for your love he became sometimes.

"But… uh, ain’t yer job to mark yer territory or some shit like that? Like, make it clear to her that m’ yer husband?"

You frown playfully, looking back at him.

“I'm not a damn dog, Daryl. Or do you want me to pee on your leg?"

A little surprised, Daryl chuckles.

"Are ya really not worried? Or slightly jealous?"

You shrug again.

“No. I mean, I trust you, but if you start bringing squirrels just for her, that’s when I will get worried. You are like those cute penguins who bring the most beautiful stone to the love of their life: believe me, the squirrels are your stones.”

Daryl chuckles again, letting go of your hand only to slide it over your shoulders and pull you into him, doing it because he wants to.

The third time it happens, you intervene.

A few minutes earlier, you walked out of your house to sit on the rocking chair with a sandwich on a plate, eager to continue with your book after a successful supply run. Daryl and Rick took the lead to leave the things found in the community warehouse, walking down the street towards your house about half an hour later. But too engrossed in old poems from the last century, you miss the way Daryl is intercepted by Ellie two houses away, until the voice of one of your family members catches your attention.

"Aren't you going to save your husband, (Y/N)?" Rick chuckles, standing near the porch steps. You follow his gaze, lingering on the way that every time the female neighbor tries to make a subtle step, Daryl takes one back. “Please, do, this went from being funny to being sad.”

You roll your eyes, leaving the book aside.

“Fine.”

“Wait... are you going to fight her?” With his gaze slightly more open, Rick stands there as you walk past him. “Because I've seen you take out walkers for less.”

“Goodnight, Rick.”

He chuckles, walking towards his own home.

Maybe it's your height, maybe it's the way your gaze turned serious, with a quiet but menacing personality when the occasion called for it, but there's something about you that makes the neighbor take a step back when you stop next to them, slapping your husband’s butt playfully but shamelessly, almost making him jump in place.

“Whatcha doing, buttercup?” You smile at him, with his surprised look on you, even after you turn your attention to Ellie. “Hi, neighbor, I didn’t see you there like you didn't notice me last week when you greeted my husband. Ellie, right?”

She nods, surprised by your calm outburst.

“Don’t be scared please, I’m not going to hurt you, although, I could, you know? But I just wanted to ask you nicely not to try to suck all the air out of my husband’s face because you make him uncomfortable, and he’s not going to do anything about it, but I will: trust me, I’ve killed people for less, so imagine what I’d do for his ass, which is mine, so… yep, I guess that’s it.” Keeping the cutest smile you can muster, you take Daryl’s hand to make him walk with you. “Say goodbye to the neighbor, sweetheart.”

As all words have left Daryl’s mind, he simply waves goodbye once. And he lets himself be guided in silence until you’re within the four walls of your home, but once the door lock has clicked and a second after you let go of his hand, he catches it again to pull you towards him, lifting you up in those strong arms of his until you have no choice but to tighten your legs around his waist.

Daryl is smiling, in the way he only does with you.

"Fuck, woman, I don' know if m’ scared of ya, impressed, or turned on."

You chuckle, holding his face in your hands.

"Your ass is mine, Dixon, why do you think I married you?"

He chuckles along with you, before pressing his lips to yours.

@fluffy-dixon

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello, hope you're a having a good day

Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu

Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.

So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Come on. Come at me.”

Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.

Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.

Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.

Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.

Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.

You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.

“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.

It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.

This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.

Fucking beautiful.

Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.

“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”

With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.

You’re completely trapped beneath him.

And in a completely inappropriate position.

From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.

Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.

“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.

“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.

The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.

“Soap—”

His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”

“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.

The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.

Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.

Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.

One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.

“You—”

“Are we interrupting something?”

You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.

Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.

You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.

But Johnny’s has.

With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.

“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.

The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.

Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.

“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.

“Hate me that much?” he teases.

“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”

Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.

“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”

He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.

Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.

Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.

You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.

As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.

You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.

Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.

“You’re improving,” he says.

“I have a good teacher.”

Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.

He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.

Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.

“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”

His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.

John Price

Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.

"Again."

Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."

"And you need practice," counters Price.

He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.

Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.

Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.

You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.

Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.

"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."

Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.

"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.

That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.

Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.

"You need to do better-"

"Captain."

Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.

"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."

Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.

"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.

"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.

"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."

Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.

“What?" you snap

"Pointers," he repeats.

"Oh, fuck off, Simon."

He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Your posture is terrible."

"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.

"Are you sassing me?"

"No."

Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”

“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”

“What was that?”

You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”

Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."

You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.

"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."

You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.

"Again,” nods Simon.

"Really?"

Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."

"What way?"

“Grab your knife and find out.”

Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.

Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.

Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.

"Again,” he growls.

Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.

"Again."

Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.

This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.

"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."

You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.

Awareness settles in.

Simon is all hardness over you.

"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.

His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.

“I have one,” he murmurs.

Bet I can guess.

“How do you want it?” he continues.

"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.

It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.

There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.

Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.

It's only a tease. You want the real thing.

"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.

Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.

That one. Got it.

“We should—”

A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.

“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.

He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”

You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”

Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”

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[abbotsanatomy]

okay hi!! jack request. i’m thinking about him getting jealous and territorial over someone he knows he has no right to get so riled up about 👀 a forbidden / situationship kind of romance x jealous jack would be so fun. i love the angst if you can’t tell haha

⨳ SEEING GREEN

pairing: jack abbot x chief resident!reader warnings: age gap (28 and 49), resident/attending relationship, power imbalances, workplace situationship, awkward jealousy, angst :(. author's note: this came out a little angstier than expected, forgive me!

Anyone who works the ER night shift knows it's very common to get flirted with on the job. More drunks, less serious injuries, and the inherent attraction patients have for their doctors. It's the holy trinity for inappropriate ER flirtation. You've become used to it. It's why you aren't too bothered when it's a patient you're actually attracted to flirting with you.

Male, mid-30s, third-degree burn injury on his arm, and you've totally met him before. You just can't remember where.

His hair’s a dirty blonde, he’s got a Pitt University hoodie on, with the sleeves pulled up to reveal his injury. This guy’s the kind of pretty anyone would fawn over.

However, he’s got pretty bad luck, because right now he's in an ER chair, with you and nurse Gloria flitting around the room, hooking him up with IV fluids and prophylactic antibiotics.

“You come here often?” he jokes, trying to hold his arm up.

You smile courteously, nodding in his direction.

“Unfortunately,” you respond.

You have to ask for his name to proceed with care, but you don't want to seem like a moron for forgetting it.

If you could just remember...

“Oh. You're Matt. From the dog park, last year?” you almost yell, turning to face him fully.

Matt is one of the many, many flings you've had in the last few years. You'd met him at a dog park, when you were dog-sitting for a friend. He'd asked for your number, and you'd gone on a few very nice dates. It fizzled out eventually, like they always do.

It's totally because you work night shifts and you're way too busy for dating. Totally not because you have a huge, fat, world-ending crush on your attending. The very same attending you seem to be in a push-pull situationship with.

Matt's grinning awkwardly, looking down at the ground, “Ouch. You couldn't remember me?”

“I'm sorry. I've slept exactly three hours in the last two days. I can barely remember my own name,” you explain, pulling a crash cart close.

He closes an eye tight and tilts his head to one side like he's thinking really hard. “Oh, yeah. What was it, by the way?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” you deadpan.

You break out into a fit of laughter the moment he does. You can sense Gloria side-eyeing you both. So, you clear your throat to remind him and yourself that you are still in an ER.

“So, how'd this happen, Matt?” you ask.

“I was making a late night cup of tea. Can't sleep, y'know,” he narrates, and you nod in understanding. “Then the water from the kettle fell on my arm, and I came rushing so I wouldn't lose it.”

You chuckle at that, “You won't be losing it. We're just going to have to remove all of the dead skin surrounding the wound so it heals well.”

“Do you feel any pain?”

“No, it stopped hurting a little after it happened,” he tells you.

His eyes are no longer focused on you, though. Instead, they've drifted to someone else outside of the little curtained cubicle you're occupying. You instinctively turn around to be met with none other than the very same man who's been interrupting your romantic endeavors for years.

“Doctor Abbot,” you greet, even though you've already seen him many times tonight.

Jack just nods. It's a little off, but you won't comment on that. He doesn't have to become miraculously happy every time he sees you, even though he usually is.

“This is my attending. Dr.Jack Abbot, one of our finest,” you introduce, turning back towards Matt.

Jack crosses his arms over his chest. He smiles at the patient, but it's a tight, imperceptible thing. There's a palpable tension in the air.

Proceeding with care is probably your best option in this situation. So, you pull the top drawer of the crash cart open. You're sliding your nitrile gloves on when Jack stops you.

“Present the case,” he demands, saying your last name in a way that sends a thrill down your spine. He isn't even looking your way, his eyes are dead set on Matt.

Is he serious? you ask yourself.

It doesn't make any sense. You're a senior resident. This is a case way below your skill level. He knows this. You know this.

So, you just stare at him for a long beat. You almost forget Matt's even there, until he clears his throat loudly. It pulls you back to reality.

“Um, alright,” you surrender.

“Matthew Morgan, thirty-seven. He just has a third-degree burn on his arm.”

Obviously, you almost say.

Jack walks over to assess the IV you have set up, “What do you have him hooked up with?”

It's such a trivial question, you're offended to even be asked it. Doctor Abbot isn't only your supervisor, he's also someone you respect deeply. So, you won't argue with him here. You're saving that for later.

“Electrolytes, and antibiotics.”

He nods, and he's still staring daggers into Matt. It's almost turned into this weird power play where he's trying to show this guy you'll answer whatever question he asks, you'll do whatever he wants. He's staking his claim over you.

Suddenly, it feels like the room's gotten a lot hotter. You can feel the fluorescent light of the ER beat down harder on your face. When you finally find your voice again, it's slightly angrier than usual.

“And we were just about to proceed with debridement.”

“Perfect. Wouldn't you rather the new intern try it out for the first time?” he's asking it like a question, but his tone leaves no room for argument. Not right now, anyway.

“I could oversee,” he offers. “Doctor Shen's about to perform an emergency thoracotomy for a lobectomy, if you'd like to go help out.”

The last time you heard of a procedure so intricate happening during the night shift at PTMC, you were probably a second-year resident. It's the most excitement the night shift's had in a very long time. Of course you want to help out. He knows you do.

It's no surprise when you shoot Matt an apologetic smile and tell him Jack and the new intern, Sarah, are going to be taking over. The moment you're out of sight, you sprint to trauma room two.

You're not sure whether you should thank Abbot or murder him.

The hinges on your locker creak as you pull it open to grab your things and finally head home. You're about to grab your jacket, when you spot Jack heading into the bathroom. The one with the broken lock.

Before you can even think twice about this totally horrible decision, you've already infiltrated the bathroom. Thankfully, when you look up, he's just washing his hands.

“This bathroom's clearly not empty,” he informs you, still washing his hands.

You nod and walk to stand closer to him.

“Yeah. I know.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, but he's smiling at you through the mirror.

“I just wanted to give you a taste of how intrusive it feels to have you micromanaging my cases,” you cross your arms in over-exaggerated disapproval.

“I mean, that's not even your job.” You hope that drives the point home.

Jack turns around, and there's about five inches in between you now. He's maintaining so much eye contact, that your eyes start going back and forth between his and the dirty, tiled floor.

“You mean assigning you cases? That's absolutely my job,” he reasons, wiping his hands down with the tissue.

“That's not what that was. I don't even know what the hell that was back there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you want me presenting the case one minute, and then you want me off of it completely the next. So, forgive me if I'm a little confused.”

Jack turns away to throw the paper towel into the trash can, letting it fall closed with a loud clang.

“What exactly is it you're confused about?”

You just blink at him for a long moment. He genuinely has no idea. You're not the one confused here. He is.

“You're not my boyfriend, Jack,” you whisper.

Jack's eyes are on the floor the moment you say it. He smiles like a man who's just realizing the tragedy in life's comedy. Your words hang in the air for a moment.

“Believe me, I know that,” he murmurs.

You shake your head in confusion, “So, what's up with you acting like you don't? You can't—”

You pause to take a breath.

“You have to know, when you do things like that. Back there. It confuses me. It fucks with my brain,” you sigh shakily.

You step back, “I can't keep doing this, Jack. I can't keep going out with guys, taking them back to my apartment, kissing them, and then having to kick them out ten minutes later.”

His eyebrows are set into a deep frown. He's putting his hands into his pocket, and just staring.

“Because every single time I do it, all I see is you. And your eyes.”

“I'm stuck,” you confess.

When the tears start falling, he moves quickly. His arms are wrapped around you in seconds, your face buried into his chest.

“It isn't fair,” your voice is muffled into the fabric of his uniform, but he understands you perfectly.

His fingers are slowly threading through your hair. You can feel his breath grow heavy on your skin. Your tears are staining his scrub top. He nods slowly.

“I know. I'm sorry,” he says, his voice raspier than usual.

He pulls your face up, with a hand on each cheek. Your eyes lock, but you can't stop crying. His thumbs gently wipe away the tears there.

“I know. It is,” he affirms.

You know it won't happen, but you wish he'd just kiss you, right here, right now. You want so badly the one thing you can't have.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Your biggest fan

pairing: seungmin x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, college au

word count: 9.8k

warnings: sex work(kinda), masturbation, sex toys unprotected sex, face fucking, degradation, bondage, spanking, lowkey pain kink, squirting, dirty talk, orgasm control, sexting, reader is called slut and loves it hehe (lmk if i missed some haha)

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this, please reblog if you did, i had fun with the college au🫶🏻 also, my first full seungmin fic🥹💕

check out: Masterlist

Saturday night. In any student's case that would be the perfect time to go out and party, unwind from the whole week, get drunk and maybe score a one night stand.

Not in Seungmin's case though, he has found another genre of ...entertainment. He was never the type to go out to parties, finding alcohol something that just upsets his stomach and seeing people acting even dumber than they usually do only served to make him mad, not relaxed.

His roommate Hyunjin is the exact opposite, practically surviving the whole week just for any party organized nearby, and today was no different.

"Do I look good?"- Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at Seungmin, after trying on the fifth outfit and asking the same thing every single time.

"Why are you asking redundant questions? You got a mirror."- Seungmin rolls his eyes at his roommate who was looming over his frame as he layed on his bed.

"Because like, I need to know if you'd fuck me?"- Hyunjin says nonchalantly and Seungmin makes gagging noises at him as he sits up.

"I'd never fuck you."- he shakes his head and Hyunjin groans.

"Okay but like if you were a girl or into guys, would you?"- he tries again.

"If saying yes gets you off my case, then yes."- Seungmin sighs and it's Hyunjin's turn to roll his eyes with a playful smirk appearing on his lips.

"You're so boring."- Hyunjin sticks his tongue out at Seungmin.

"And you're so childish. Let me be boring in peace."- Seungmin waves him off.

Hyunjin makes snoring noises as he grabs his jacket, barely missing the pillow projectile Seungmin aimed at him.

"Don't bother coming back, peasant!"- Seungmin yells and the door is closed with a thud.

He sighs, sitting in silence for just a few moments, waiting for Hyunjin's long legs to take him away from the dorms.

When he's sure that his roommate is far away, Seungmin gets up to lock the door before making his way back to bed.

He grabs his laptop and opens it up, typing up the familiar page into his search engine, looking for his favorite user, the one he spent so much money on. Money he made working hard during the summer, but who cares when he can spend it on whatever he wants.

Every week he waits for Saturday, his favorite day, when she does all her livestreams. Even though she never showed her face on camera, Seungmin is convinced she is the most beautiful woman to ever grace the planet.

Judging only by her beautiful curves and the way she moves and sounds when she pleases herself only fuel the fantasy of her that blooms inside Seungmin's head.

This weekend she's wearing pretty pastel pink lingerie, delicate and frilly, the tiny see-through fabric leaving nothing to the imagination except her face that Seungmin wishes he could see.

"Oh hello, MongMong22. You're finally here! I was waiting for you before I start!"- Seungmin listens to her seductive voice, imagining her smirk and a wink she'd send to the camera.

She always gives special hello's to him, always fulfills his requests because he's been there almost since day one, a constant source of payment for her.

"I have some new toys I wanna try out today."- she reveals, spreading her legs tentatively, slowly sliding her hand between them as she presses her fingers into her clit, circling it.

Seungmin lets out a breath through his nose, his boxers are already getting tight and she didn't even start with anything.

~ Let us see your tits, please!

She chuckles at the comment someone left, moving her hand away from her panties that now had a wet spot formed on them.

"Okay, when you asked so nicely."- Seungmin can hear the smirk in her voice. She undoes her bra, taking it off slowly and Seungmin palms his growing erection at the sight of her beautiful tits.

"You want me to play with my tits? Imagine it's your hands touching me?"- she cups herself, slowly massaging her breasts as a little moan escapes her lips.

~ Play with your nipples.

Someone comments what Seungmin thinks, and she brings her fingers on her nipples.

"You want me to play with my little nipples? Mm it feels so good."- she whines as she starts pinching them and rolling them between her fingers.

"How long should I play with them? Until they're all tender and swollen, so sensitive for you?"- she moans, pinching them harder.

Seungmin twitches and pulls his boxers down so he can grab his throbbing cock, pre-cum spilling out and coating his length.

"You tell me when to stop, pup."- Seungmin's dick twitches in his hand, he knows she's talking directly to him, with the nickname he chose whenever they direct message.

He slowly starts moving his hand, only on his tip, the stimulation making his gut stir as he watches her torture her nipples while she lets out the prettiest moans.

Seungmin imagines how it would feel to actually be the one to touch her nipples, reduce her to a mess of moans while only playing with her breasts.

"Are you imagining you're touching me? Or perhaps you're imagining your lips around my nipples, sucking on them like a good boy?"- Seungmin lets out a quiet noise as his hand slips down his length, now completely lubed with his pre-cum.

He moves his hand very slowly, trying to make everything last as long as possible, after all it's been a week since he's last seen her.

He stops her only when her nipples are swollen and red, when she's whimpering and begging, rutting her hips against her bed, her wet pussy dragging on the sheets beneath.

~ Touch yourself. Push your fingers inside your pussy.

Seungmin types out, now completely succumbing to the arousal traveling through his body right to his red throbbing cock.

"Of course, MongMong. Tell me how many fingers?"- she sounds sweet, and he can imagine her batting her eyelashes at him.

~ Three.

She whines at his comment, sliding her panties off and spreading her legs wide so everyone can see her pretty pussy, glistening with arousal.

"Three fingers for my pup."- she moans, playing with her clit a little before she slides her fingers on her wet folds. She slowly pushes three of her fingers in, her little pussy struggling to take so much before any preparation.

Seungmin's head is dizzy, thinking about how tight her pussy actually is, how it would feel to sink his cock inside her, open her up only to take him. He tightens his hold on his cock, imagining it's her velvety walls squeezing around him.

The schlick sounds that her pussy makes as she starts fucking her fingers into it together with her sweet whines, make Seungmin move his hand faster.

He cups his balls with his other hand, giving himself more stimulation as she plays with her nipples and fucks herself.

"Ahh, are you thinking of having your way with me? Pushing your cock inside me and fucking me raw? Filling me up, full of your warm cum? Mm, I hope you are cause I'm thinking about it too!"- she whimpers loudly.

"Come on puppy, tell me when I can cum!"- she adds, fucking herself faster, her legs shaking as she brings her hand harshly into her hole.

"Fuck!"- Seungmin curses, his cock twitching hard in his hand.

~ Cum for me.

He types out when he feels close to his own high and she lets out a little gasp.

"Yes, puppy, cum with me too! I want you to cum all over me ahh!"- she moans and Seungmin's hips jerk upwards as he cums hard, at the same time she almost screams, pulling her fingers out as she squirts, her pussy visibly clenching around nothing.

Seungmin milks his cock dry as he looks at her beautiful flushed body, her pussy and thighs covered in her juices, her breasts shaking lightly with her ragged breathing.

"I hope you came with me. Now tell me which toy should I start with first? Or should I use both of them, fill both my holes?"- she giggles and Seungmin feels his spent cock twitch against his thigh.

Oh, it's just the beginning of the night.

-

Monday comes around, the day everyone dreads but not Seungmin.

It's another day he looks forward to, because he has lectures with you.

He barely knows you, you exchanged only polite hello's and a few sentences about your assignments and professors, you being Felix's friend who is Hyunjin's friend, brought you together as sometimes the four of you sit at the same table during lunch time at the cafeteria.

You're mostly quiet, hiding in big sweaters, your hair is always up in a neat bun or ponytail, your glasses sliding down your nose as you stare at your book.

Seungmin thinks you're adorable and also unapproachable as he, himself is a little shy and he tried to take the lead a few times, only for you to bite back short answers, your voice timid and your cheeks rosy.

You were like that with Hyunjin too at the beginning, shy and barely responding to him, but since he tries to fuck anything that walks and of course tried to flirt with you one too many times, you started being sarcastic and sassy with him, turning him down every time.

Seungmin wouldn't admit it out loud but he was enjoying every time you brought the cocky Hwang Hyunjin down to earth.

You seemed to only be somewhat relaxed around Felix, probably because you've known each other for quite a while, being friends even before college started.

Seungmin wishes he could be more like Felix, more extroverted and joyful, maybe then he'd get more of your attention, maybe then he'd get to talk to you more, find out about your desires, fears, dreams and interests.

"Well, I gotta go, I have a hot date."- Hyunjin stands up first, wiggling his eyebrows. "Any of y'all are welcome to join in for a little threesome."

"Ew."- you and Seungmin say at the same time, making Felix choke on his food as he tried to laugh and swallow the meat at the same time.

"Both of you are boring."- Hyunjin puts both thumbs down and Seungmin reaches up to slap his hands, making Hyunjin trip over his feet and almost fall as he tries to avoid him.

"Don't kill him. Yet."- Felix chimes in after a chug of water.

"I see you're siding with the snores. I'll catch you later then, my little retirement squad."- Hyunjin slips away with a smirk and a salute.

"Oh shit!"- Felix gasps suddenly, scrambling to get up. "I forgot I had a study date! I'm already late, I'll see you guys later!"- he grabs his stuff in a frenzy, running away comically as he tries to balance everything in his hands.

Seungmin and you watch as Felix almost bumps into another student carrying their tray of food, apologizing profusely as the person glares at him.

"He's a disaster sometimes."- you shake your head and Seungmin is taken aback, almost forgetting you're still sitting there. With him. Alone.

This is the first time that neither Hyunjin nor Felix are together with the two of you and Seungmin gulps, his heart picking up speed as you tilt your head at him, looking at him through your glasses.

"Yeah, he is."- he answers quickly with a nervous chuckle and you seem to already move on, your nose in your book again.

"W-what are you reading?"- Seungmin tries a poor attempt at starting a conversation, when he can clearly read the title and the author since you're holding the book up.

You close the cover, looking at it like you've forgotten what you're reading.

"The giver. I've read it multiple times. I just read it sometimes between new books. To have like a familiar story before I move on to something I've never experienced before. It's comforting."- you talk, your cheeks reddening with every word you utter, your eyes darting down to your book as you scan the words you almost know at the top of your head.

"What's it about?"- Seungmin asks, actually interested in knowing what kind of story you find comforting, one you can repeat over and over again.

"It's about a seemingly utopian world where everyone has equal everything but the more details you find out about the world, as well as the role of the giver, the more your eyes open up to see it's far from being utopian. I won't spoil much in case you wish to read it someday."- you smile at Seungmin, pushing your glasses up, your eyes sparkly.

"Wow."- he exhales as he stares at your face. "I- I mean, it sounds very interesting. The book. I might give it a read."

"Let me know if you do. I wanna hear your thoughts."- you say and his heart flutters.

You wanna hear his thoughts.

"Well, it was nice talking to you but I have afternoon lectures. See you around."- you stand up, hiding your face from Seungmin and he feels a kind of longing wash over him, longing to be in your presence just for a little while more.

You quickly gather your stuff, and he sees a glimpse of your reddened cheeks as you wave bye to him and walk out, your sweet perfume lingering even after you're far down the road and Seungmin is still sitting there, his heart hammering in his chest.

He finds The Giver in the library that very same afternoon and hurries to his dorm to start reading as soon as he can.

-

Seungmin finds it easy to fall into the fictitious world of your comfort book, with every word he sees, he reads it in your voice, imagines you with your little bun, a few strands of your hair falling into your eyes and framing your pretty face, as your glasses slide down your nose.

He reads and reads, and then he thinks about you, your pretty lips and he wonders how you taste. He wonders how his hands would look while holding your face, the look you would give him as he leans in closer right before he seals his lips with yours. He wonders how it would feel to press his body against yours, to melt into your embrace. And how it would feel to be inside you, how beautiful you would be with nothing but your glasses on.

Seungmin's pants get terribly tight, but it feels wrong.

So wrong to touch himself at the thought of the sweet and kind you, so he turns to the only source of pleasure he knows. That familiar site he's on every Saturday, and when need hits, sometimes during the week too.

Like today, while his roommate is luckily away, off to fuck someone somewhere while Seungmin looks for her.

~ Hey, are you online?

Seungmin quickly sends her a message and the three dots indicating that she's typing pop up in an instant.

~ For you always, pup. Tell me what you need.

Seungmin swallows, his cock straining in his boxers.

~ Could you send me a video of you playing with your favorite toy?

He sends, and adds a generous tip immediately.

He waits for a little while, the erection painful in his boxers so he decides to shuck them off and slowly wrap his hand around his length.

~ video attachment

Seungmin jolts and clicks as fast as he can. She's completely naked, save for cute white thigh highs, her legs are spread open as she runs her favorite dildo on her wet folds.

"Mm, pup I wish it was you here with me now."- she says lowly, before she slowly starts pushing the toy into her desperate pussy.

Seungmin watches as it stretches around the dildo, sucking it in greedily and he jerks himself off faster, his legs trembling.

"I wish it was your dick stretching me, fucking me raw. I would let you cum inside me, puppy."- she moans as she pushes the whole toy inside her.

"Ahh, fuck!"- Seungmin moans a little too loudly as his cock twitches hard in his hand.

"I want you to fuck me dumb, pup. Ah, please!"- she whines desperately, fucking herself faster and harder. Seungmin moans quietly as he matches her pace, almost throwing his head back in pleasure but he doesn't want to miss a moment of her sweet pussy taking it.

"Ahh, I'm gonna cum for you!"- she moans before exploding around the toy, coating it in her release.

Seungmin's eyes roll back as he fucks his hand relentlessly, on the brink of his release.

"Cum inside me puppy, please!"- she keeps fucking herself, taking out another orgasm out of her pussy as she squirts all over herself. That tips Seungmin over the edge and he cums, spurting all over his hand and stomach.

"I hope you enjoyed that."- she giggles before the video ends.

~ Tell me if you need something more, I'll do it for you MongMong<3

He sees the last text as he clicks off the video, after saving it of course.

~ I wish I could see your face.

He types out after wiping himself off.

The typing bubble pops up and disappears a few times before she finally answers.

~ I'm sorry pup, that's the one thing I can't do.

Seungmin knew she would say that, and he understands, she doesn't even know who he is, how old he is, what he looks like. He could say he's whatever age he wants to be or send a picture of someone else, it's easy to hide behind a screen. It makes sense that she wants to keep herself safe.

~ I understand. Thank you for the vid.

~ Anytime!<3 Ty for the tip, handsome<3

Seungmin watches the video a few more times before his roommate stumbles into the dorm, and he hides his phone away, pretending to be asleep.

-

Felix and Hyunjin are deep into a heated conversation about some game characters, and Seungmin has tuned them out long ago. His attention is only on you, as you fumble with your glasses, your book resting on the side of course.

"I finished the giver."- he starts and you look up from cleaning your glasses, your eyes big and eyebrows lifted as your cheeks redden.

"Wow, that was quick! You're a fast reader."- you say, putting your glasses on and smoothing out that strand of hair that always falls out of your bun. Seungmin wishes he could reach out and put it behind your ear himself.

"The story was engaging."- he chuckles and you let out a small giggle. "Actually, it was really sad at some parts. And it ends with an open ending, we never know if they survived or not."

"I like to think they did. That's what's comforting to me."- you shrug, looking down at your plate.

"Could you imagine a world like that? To be robbed of everything that makes you unique, that makes you who you are?"- you add suddenly and Seungmin shakes his head.

"Sounds terrifying."- he says and you hum in agreement.

You seem to be contemplating something, sifting through your food with your fork as your cheeks become even more red.

Seungmin can see you muttering to yourself and he finds it so endearing.

"T-there's a book fair happening this weekend. I was wondering if you'd like to... go with me."- you say quietly, your eyes meeting his in a shy gaze.

Seungmin's heart hammers fast in his chest.

"I'd love to!"- he says a little too quickly, cringing at himself.

"Great! Um, maybe we could meet up in front of the cafeteria at 5pm?"- you ask, smiling at him.

"Sounds good."- Seungmin nods, trying not to look affected but deep in his mind he's clawing at the figurative wall.

"Where are y'all going?"- Hyunjin butts in suddenly.

"Nowhere of interest to you, Hwang."- you answer with a slight scowl on your face, and Seungmin suppresses a laugh behind his palms.

Hyunjin lifts his arms up in surrender, feigning an innocent look.

"Just say it's a date and I'll be out of your hair."- he says and you almost suffocate on your own saliva. "It's about time my little MongMong gets some."- he smirks and Seungmin is quick to punch his arm hard, making Hyunjin wail dramatically as he almost falls off the chair.

Felix is laughing histerically, holding up his phone as he films the whole chaotic scene.

Your eyes seem to widden at the nickname, the color draining from your face.

"You broke my arm!"- Hyunjin yelps, making a few people turn to look at him with an annoyed look on their faces.

"I'll break the other one too if you don't shut up."- Seungmin threatens while you sit quietly.

"Ugh... I gotta go. I'll see you Saturday."- you look at Seungmin before patting Felix on the head and saying bye to the whole table as you rush out of the cafeteria.

Seungmin stares at the door swinging after you ran out and Hyunjin smirks.

"You better get that p-"

"Finish the sentence, Hwang. I dare you."- Seungmin glares at him with his fist lifted and Hyunjin yelps.

"See! He bullies me! He beats me up!"- he says to Felix who shakes his head, chuckling.

"You're the one who starts it."- Felix says.

"Y'all are against me. I'm leaving."- Hyunjin gets up.

"Goodbye."- Seungmin says and the two of them unceremoniously flip each other off as Felix laughs at them.

"Be nice to y/n. She's a close friend of mine."- Felix says to Seungmin as soon as Hyunjin is out of earshot.

"Oh... Yeah, of course. I promise."- Seungmin says and Felix smiles.

"Good."- he nods and just then Seungmin becomes aware of the butterflies in his stomach.

-

Seungmin doesn't know how he managed to sleep the night before. Saturday was always his favorite day, but today it was even more special.

"How do I look?"- he's the one to ask Hyunjin that this time around, as his roommate lazes around on his bed, playing some dumb game on his phone.

"Yeah, I'd fuck you."- Hyunjin smirks.

"I didn't ask that, you asshole!"- Seungmin snaps and Hyunjin just laughs.

"It was implied."- he wiggles his eyebrows and Seungmin grabs his pillow.

"See this? I'm gonna suffocate you with it if you keep being gross."- he threatens and Hyunjin just smirks again.

"I mean, if that's what you're into, I'm okay with a little breath play."- he says.

"Oh my god, I am leaving. You're sick."- Seungmin makes gagging noises at his roommate, grabbing his stuff as fast as he could.

Hyunjin is giggling, loving the way he can always annoy his roommate and friend.

"Get that pussy, MongMong!"- he yells after him.

"Shut up, Hwang!"- Seungmin yells back, slamming the door as he steps out into the hallway.

Finally.

He arrives in front of the cafeteria a little too early, and he's shuffling from one foot to another, his heart stuck in his throat. Is this really happening?

Maybe he's just dreaming. If he is, he hopes he'll never wake up because there you are, walking towards him.

Seungmin almost sputters when he sees you with your hair down, wearing a dress and an oversized sweater over it.

It seems like he fell right into a scene from a movie where the protagonist finally gets the girl, and she's walking towards him in slow motion, her hair cascading down her shoulders as the wind blows through it, her face breaking into a smile as she notices him and waves.

Seungmin is absolutely stunned.

"Hey."- you say as you stand in front of him, your perfume and shampoo mixing and filling up the space between you and Seungmin melts.

"Hi. You look... different."- you dumb idiot, he thinks. You look different? What the heck is that?

"T-thanks, I guess?"- you chuckle quietly. "My hair is down, maybe because of that."- you conclude, tucking that one strand behind your ear and Seungmin's hand itches.

"Yeah, could be."- Seungmin hopes the earth swallows him up. Why is he so embarassing?

"Shall we go?"- you ask and Seungmin nods, as the two of you start walking.

Luckily, the location is only a 10 minute walk from your campus, so you didn't have to take the bus.

The two of you walked in silence at first before you found a common theme, talking about your lectures and professors.

Seungmin's worries kept slowly melting away as your conversation flows naturally.

Arriving at the fair, Seungmin had no idea it would be this big. The crowd really was something and there were so many stands with books and trinkets, somewhere down the line there were even stands with drinks and food.

"Oh wow, what a turn up this year!"- you say, your body buzzing with excitement.

"Yeah, I didn't think there'd be a crowd this huge."- Seungmin nods.

"That's not a problem, right?"- you ask, your eyes big and sparkly and he melts.

"No, of course not. I'm excited to see what they have here too."- Seungmin smiles a blindingly bright smile at you, noticing your cheeks becoming redder as you look at him.

You avert your eyes in favor of scanning the books perched on the stands, looking for a new fantasy world to immerse yourself in.

Seungmin quickly found out just how passionate you are about your reading, as you talked and talked like someone opened up a tap of water and the words kept spilling out of your lips.

To say he was delighted to see this more excited, bold side of you was an understatement. He absorbed every single thought you let out in the open, like a man with a hard addiction he wanted to hear more, he wanted you to keep talking so his brain could get a well craved dose of you.

All the talking and walking made the two of you hungry and you made your way towards one of the little fast food stands.

Your hands were occupied with two bags of books and Seungmin held two books that you recommended to him, ones that he planned to read religiously as soon as he could just so the two of you have even more to talk about.

"Let me help you with that."- he says, offering to carry your bags. You almost shy away, saying that it's not necessary but he insists so you give in.

You both get hot dogs and sodas, sitting at one of the high tables.

As you sit and eat, making small talk, Seungmin's eyes fall to your wrist, where you rolled up your sleeve.

A dainty bracelet with a little sun and half moon pendant adorns it and he wonders why it looks so familiar to him. Until it clicks.

Sunbeam28. The woman of his dreams, the one that sends him hot videos on demand, the one that calls him puppy and fucks herself in front of thousands of horny eyes. She has the same bracelet.

Seungmin swallows, it can't be.

It's just a bracelet. Maybe many other people have it, it must be. He gathers his thoughts as you sense his stare and look up at him.

There's no way someone as sweet and innocent as you says the things she says, does the things she does.

"Um, your bracelet. It's pretty."- Seungmin comments.

"Oh!"- you look at your wrist and smile fondly. "Felix got it for me, on my 18th birthday."

"Oh, that's really nice. So you and him?"- Seungmin trails off.

"He's like a brother to me."- you smile, wiping your hands on the napkin.

"Yeah, I figured."- hoped, is what he wants to say but doesn't. "It's nice that he found that bracelet for you, I mean it suits you well."- Seungmin tries again.

"He got it made for me. It's one of a kind."- you say and he almost chokes on his drink.

"Seungmin, are you okay?"- you panic as he coughs, lifting to your feet and tapping his back.

"Mhm."- he nods quickly, swallowing and then drinking again. "Fine. I'm fine."

Completely fucking fine.

That can only mean one thing. You and Sunbeam28 are the same person. Seungmin lets out a quiet incredulous laugh. Out of everywhere in the world the woman on his screen lives on the same campus as him. Out of everyone, he fell for you twice.

But the sweet shy girl with red cheeks in front of him looks nothing like the sexy seductress that could have him wrapped around her finger in a matter of seconds.

He wonders how much you hide away, and he comes to the realization that he already saw everything.

His face feels hot and you look up at him expectantly.

"You sure you're okay?"- you ask.

"Yeah, more than okay."- he tries to reassure you and maybe himself too.

It's almost your streaming time, Seungmin thinks as the two of you walk back towards the campus.

"I had a really good time."- you say shyly when he walks you to your dorm.

"Me too."- he smiles, watching you tuck your hair behind your ear.

He gets an overwhelming wish to taste your cherry colored lips.

"Well, see you Monday."- you say, before turning around and leaving hurriedly.

"See you!"- Seungmin calls behind you, clutching the books in his hand.

-

He's logged on as soon as Hyunjin disappears off to party at 11pm like clockwork.

"Hi, MongMong22. Glad to see you here again tonight."- a seductive voice says.

Again? Again, like another Sunday or again as in you somehow know?

There's no way you could know.

"Tonight is a special night. I'm feeling extra giving so I will let my viewers take complete control over me. I'm talking what toy I use, how fast or slow I go, where I put it, when I cum... Everything is in your hands my dear viewers. I'm looking forward to tonight."- you let out a little chuckle, and Seungmin is 100% sure now. You are Sunbeam28.

~ We want you naked.

Someone comments and you giggle again.

"Your wish is my command, chat."- you say and take off the flimsy see through black bra and panties.

"Here we have a selection of all my toys. I'm counting on you to be creative."- you say, spreading your legs and letting everyone see your pussy, already glistening with arousal. The thought of being at the mercy of faceless viewers excited you so much.

~ Put on the nipple clamps.

Seungmin types out quickly. He wants, no needs to ruin you. How can you walk around so shyly, your nose always in your books, while here with the promise of anonymity you're such a horny little thing. He can't wrap his head around the duality.

"Anything for you, puppy."- your voice is low as you grab your pretty shiny nipple clamps. You tease your nipples a little, pinching and pulling on them, before you put on the clamps.

A whimper spills from your lips at the pain shooting through you, bringing pleasure to your core as arousal gushes out of it.

You flick your nipples a little, moaning quietly.

~ Does it hurt?

Seungmin asks, his hand palming his hard cock through his boxers.

"Mm it hurts so good pup. So good."- you whimper as you play with them, pulling on them and biting on your lip. Wishing you could close your legs to create some friction for your throbbing pussy but you want your dear viewers to have a good look at your greedy hole the entire time.

~ Use the vibrator

Someone adds and giggles spill from your lips as you take a hold of your toy.

"On my clit?"- you ask, playing with the settings.

~ Yes

Comments pour in and you press the tip on your clit, engorged and throbbing from arousal.

"How high should I turn it on?"

~ Highest. And don't cum unless I tell you to.

Seungmin gets bold, his cock now free from it's confines as he strokes it, his pre cum lubing it up perfectly.

"Mm yes pup."- you moan, turning up the settings to the highest point you could, pressing the vibrator into your clit hard.

"Ah!"- you moan wantonly, the pleasure coursing through your veins.

Seungmin curses as he can now imagine your pretty face, all fucked out, your eyes rolled back and tongue out as you moan, your legs shaking with pleasure, your tight little pussy clenching and begging to be touched and fucked.

He wonders if you still have your glasses on.

You're on the brink, barely holding in and the chat is exploding with different comments but you're waiting for him to tell you to cum.

"P-please, puppy. I wanna cum for you. Please!"- you whimper and Seungmin smirks behind the screen, flicking his wrist and also edging himself, just so he can follow your pace.

He doesn't answer yet, waiting a little more as your legs shake violently, arousal constantly gushing out of your pussy and soaking the bedsheet underneath you.

You play with your pinched nipples, the added pain makes your mind so cloudy and you keep begging.

~ Cum for me.

Seungmin fucks his hand as you grind on your bed.

"Ah, thank you puppy!"- you whimper as you cum, squirting on the bed in front of you, the liquid slides down your ass and you whimper, grinding against your own release.

Seungmin waits, he didn't come yet, not until you fall apart.

~ Let's see that little pussy take the biggest cock.

It's like something possessed him when he types that out, he's always had requests for you but he's never been this crass.

He could see your pussy clench at his words.

"Ah puppy, you wanna see my little pussy stuffed full to the brim? See it take this monster cock inch by inch just for you?"- he can hear the smirk and the need in your voice.

~ Yes. Don't make me wait.

"Ahh my puppy is so bossy tonight."- you tease, grabbing some lube to help you out, pouring it on your hands and the dildo generously before you start spreading it as you pump the toy.

"Watch closely."- you say, the tip of the dildo slowly pushed between your folds, as it catches and slips through and your eyes roll back as the toy breaches in, stretching your little pussy around it.

You whimper, pushing more of the toy in, determined to take as much as you can, push your limits as the thick long dildo forces your cunt open.

~ Fuck yourself faster

He comments and your moans are music to Seungmin's ears, together with the wet sounds your pussy makes as you start pounding your cunt. He fists his cock, matching your pace as you strain your wrist, your hole swallowing more than half the monster dildo.

"Ahh fuck puppy, I wish it was you! Fucking me, ruining my little pussy with your cock!"- you whine as you fuck yourself, the thought of when Hyunjin called your crush MongMong the other day flying through your mind. And you imagine him.

You imagine Seungmin pounding the absolute fuck out of you and you speed up, your head thrown back, not even caring about the camera anymore.

On the other side, Seungmin's legs are shaking as he watches you come undone, his cock twitching and he can't hold it in anymore, his warm cum shooting out in spurts as you babble and fuck your cunt until you explode all over yourself.

"Ah, shit!"- you curse. "I got carried away, chat."

But the comments are overwhelmingly positive as your eyes scan through them, trying to focus on the screen.

~ Please wanna see u fuck ur ass

Someone comments, and you chuckle.

"I'm afraid time's up. But next Saturday, I will wear the prettiest buttplug just for you."- you cheekily click your tongue.

Seungmin is still trying to catch his breath.

And he still can't believe it's you. Sweet y/n. Such a desperate little slut.

He wants to make you his.

-

It's the only class all four of you have together and Seungmin has a skip in his step after the weekend.

When he sees you standing and talking to Felix, all his confidence crumbles and his face burns as he remembers what he typed out and how sinful you were during that live.

As soon as you notice him, you quickly avert your eyes, your face matching his in color as you both blush. Felix smirks as his eyes travel between the two of you.

"Hello, Minnie."- Felix teases and Seungmin narrows his eyes at him.

"Don't call me that. Sounds like you're calling me short and I'm taller than you."- he says and Felix gasps, grabbing at his chest.

"Damn, don't have to rub it in my face."- he jokes and Hyunjin appears behind him, throwing his arm around Felix's shoulders.

"Who's rubbing what into your face? I volunteer."- he smirks.

"Ew."- you and Seungmin recoil at the same time again, making the two of them chuckle and exchange knowing looks.

"Moving on."- Felix shakes Hyunjin's arm off as he pouts on the side. "Y/n and I were just talking how fun it would be if the four of us would do the assignment together. Specifically, I'd like to pair up with Hyunjin."

"Ah, I know you want me Lix. We can arrange something."- Hyunjin smirks.

"Get your head out of your ass, Hwang."- you chime in and Seungmin can't help the cackle that falls from his lips. But you notice the little blush blossoming on Felix's face and your eyes widden.

Of course he fell for the playboy's charm.

"Anyways! Seungmin and y/n can work on their part together."- Felix continues, playing with his fingers nervously as Hyunjin keeps smirking at him.

"Alright, I like that mash up."- you nod, your cheeks dusted in pink and Seungmin's heart skips a beat.

"How about you come to my place tonight and we can start?"- when did you get so bold, Seungmin thinks. Is he even breathing right now?

"S-sure, that sounds good."

"Great, Lixie you can come to our dorm then. The snooze fest will happen over at y/n's dorm and you can have the only fun person here all to yourself."- Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows at Felix.

"I'm sure he's absolutely estatic about that."- Seungmin shakes his head, missing the way Felix fumbles over his words.

"I promise I'll behave."- Hyunjin winks.

He definitely will not behave, Seungmin thinks, but as he looks at Felix he concludes that maybe Felix would like that.

-

The evening comes around quicker than anticipated. Seungmin is in front of your door, checking his hair, his breath and his heartbeat a hundred times.

He brought his laptop and stuff to work on the project together but that's the last thing in his mind right now.

He's gonna see the room. The bed. The one you do the most sinful things on, in front of the camera.

He knocks and you open the door, looking comfy and sweet, your hair up in your famous bun, the strands falling into the frame of your glasses and you're wearing a cute pyjama set, complete with shorts that reveal your pretty legs.

That must be on purpose, Seungmin thinks, or hopes.

"Hey, I hope it's not messy. I had to help my roommate pack, she's had some family emergency so I didn't get to clean up everything."

"No, it's completely fine. I understand."- Seungmin smiles as you lead him to your room.

"Let's just go to my room, my computer and materials are there."- you say and he follows, visibly gulping.

The moment he steps in, recognition settles in his stomach.

"Sit wherever you want."- you say. Will he dare to sit on the bed?

Yes, he will.

He sits down and looks up at you, you're biting at your lip like your were contemplating something, your eyes averting away from his, your cheeks becoming rosy again.

"Let's begin."- you quickly snap out of whatever you were thinking about and sit at your table.

Seungmin is disappointed but he's convinced you'd never make the first move even if you did want him and somehow he feels he'd have to break that ice soon or he might miss his chance with you.

-

Two hours later, both of you get a little tired and hungry from all the work you've done so you decide to order some food. In the meantime you show him some of your favorite books from your book collection (part of it that you could have in the dorm), and his heart swells at your excited babbling.

The food arrives shortly and you invite Seungmin to sit next to you so the two of you can eat. The table is small, your hands keep brushing against each other as you reach for different side dishes, your knees pressed against each other.

Something stirs inside him and Seungmin watches you as you wipe your lips with a napkin, that damn hair getting in your eyes again.

He can't ignore the need anymore, his hand reaches to tuck the strand behind your ear. You freeze before you look up at him.

"You're really pretty."- he says suddenly, surprising himself.

"Seungmin-" - you start, a little gasp escaping your lips as his hand cups your cheek.

"No, let me finish. I need to say it now when I feel brave. I- I really like you. Well, more than that. I'm falling for you, y/n and I don't know if I've read the signals wrong but I think you might feel the same."

"Oh..."- you look shocked, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "I do, I really do. I've had a crush on you ever since I first saw you."- you confess, playing with your fingers.

Seungmin feels delighted, like a weight has been lifted off of his chest and he smiles brightly and sweetly at you.

"Can I kiss you?"- he asks quietly and your heart skips a beat.

"Please."- your voice almost comes out in a whimper and both of you lean in, your lips touching, figurative fireworks exploding around you as you sigh a breath of relief into each other, your lips moving perfectly together.

The kiss becomes heated quickly, as you keep leaning closer into each other, hands roaming on your bodies.

"S-Seungmin, I need to ask you something."- you whisper against his lips and he leans back, looking at you with hazy eyes.

"Anything."- he nods.

"Are you... Are you MongMong22?"- you gulp and his eyes widden as he gasps.

"You know?"- he asks and you chuckle nervously.

"Hyunjin called you that one time. Did you know I was-"

"Sunbeam28? Found out recently. Well I figured it out by your bracelet."

"I knew you knew. As soon as you asked me about it."- you say and a glint of something dangerous shines in your eyes.

"Are you uncomfortable that I know your secret?"- Seungmin asks.

"God no. I can just skip explaining it to you, if we're gonna date. I want to be transparent about it and somehow knowing you know and that you're... well, my biggest fan is somehow comforting."- you chuckle.

"I am your biggest fan."- Seungmin smirks, his gut stirring.

"What now?"- you swallow.

"Now, I'm gonna kiss you again."- Seungmin says, his eyes darkening as he leans in and kisses you slowly, his tongue pushing your lips open and playing with yours. You moan into the kiss, holding onto him desperately as his hands ground you.

"Wanna move this to the bed?"- you ask and Seungmin lets out a chuckle as he stands up.

You stand up too, fully expecting him to take you to your bed but Seungmin grabs you, making you squeal in surprise as he turns you around, pressing you into the table, and pressing his semi hard cock into your ass. His hand grips your bun and he pulls your head back.

"A-ah!"- you whimper in surprise and arousal.

"What's your safeword?"- he asks and you shiver.

"Are you familiar with the traffic light system?"- you ask, your voice trembling.

"Of course."- his breath ghosts on your neck, lips brushing against your skin.

Your lips open and close a few times but no coherent words come out as he starts grinding his cock between your plush asscheeks.

"Is this what you craved all this time, hm?"- his voice is low as he whispers into your ear.

"Mm, yes."- you let out a shaky breath as you grip at the shelf before you.

"You act all innocent and sweet, hiding behind those big glasses when you're nothing but a little slut looking to have all her holes filled."- he says and you gasp as his free hand comes up to grab your breast.

Good thing you didn't wear a bra today.

Seungmin turns you around, his long fingers wrapping around your neck before he leans in to kiss you hard, dominating you as he presses his body against yours. You melt as you wrap your arms around him, you can't believe this is actually happening and neither can he.

For some reason it feels natural as he leads you to the bed. Before you can lay down he stops you as he smirks.

"Strip."- he orders and you listen immediately, getting rid of your pjs and your panties. You had no problem showing your body on camera, and now even less with Seungmin, knowing he loves it, knowing he came so many times just because of you.

There's a kind of power you feel in that moment, and you decide to put everything in his hands, let him take the reigns this time, knowing you definitely have him wrapped around your little finger.

Seungmin pushes you down and you sit on the bed where he's seen you sit many times before, but this time he can see your pretty face together with your beautiful body that he's seen so many times on the screen and craved to touch it.

You reach to take your glasses off and he stops you.

"Leave those on. You look so sexy like that."- he says and you whimper quietly, spreading your legs tentively.

Seungmin chuckles, hands gripping your plushy thighs.

"Already spreading your legs? So eager."- he smirks.

"Yeah, don't you want me to?"- you bat your eyelashes at him, your pussy on display, gushing with arousal, knowing that you're at his mercy now.

"Keep them open then."- he says, spreading you even more, until there's resistance and your inner thighs hurt but you stay spread for him.

"Anything for you, pup."- you smirk and hearing you say that nickname in real life makes his dick twitch. "Whatever you want I-"

"You talk too much."- he stops you, fingertips on your lips and you part them, allowing him to push two of his fingers in.

You whimper around his digits, your eyes rolling back as his other hand slides down to caress your breast and play with your nipple.

You start sucking on his fingers as he pushes them as deep as he can, pinching and pulling your nipple harshly. You jolt, moaning around him again as he hovers over you.

"You like being pacified like this?"- you nod weakly. "Maybe you need something bigger, hm?"

You keen as he pulls out his fingers, his hands moving to remove his belt and unbutton his pants.

The belt is placed aside, and he lets his pants fall to his ankles before he steps out and pushes them aside.

His shirt comes off next and you almost wanna grind on the bed from the neediness you feel.

Seungmin is smirking as you eye his bulge, gulping at the size of it.

"Whenever I watched your live streams, I wished I could see your face, so many times I've wanted to ask you to send me a video of you sucking on your favorite toy. I'd make you take all of it. I don't care how but you'd do it."

"I would! I swear!"- you whimper. "Please!"

"Please what?"- Seungmin grips your hair, your bun messed up now.

"Let me make your fantasy come true but even better."- you look at him with a mix of lust and cheekiness and Seungmin really wants to stuff your face full of his cock.

He finally gets rid of his boxers, his hard cock springing out, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

"I wanna be on my knees for you, puppy."- you whimper, and Seungmin's cock visibly twitches.

"Be my guest."- he smirks and you get down on your knees, wasting no time as you wrap your lips around his head, tongue lapping at the pre-cum.

Seungmin sucks in a sharp breath, his hand coming around to grip and hold onto your messy bun.

You suck eagerly and he chuckles a little.

"I think you want more."- he slowly slides more of his length in as he holds your head down and your eyes flutter as you look up at him hazily, folding your hands on your back.

Seungmin fucks your face slowly at first, pushing a little bit more in with every thrust, watching your pretty eyes stare at him through your glasses.

You take it, relaxing your throat and steadying your breathing, you've trained yourself to not gag and be a perfect slut, especially if one day you'd wanna reveal your face and suck on your toys in front of all your eager viewers.

Seungmin easily slides all his length into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, your nose buried in his pubic hair.

Your eyes roll back and so do his, you're so warm and compliant, like your mouth was made for swallowing his whole cock.

"Tap my thigh if you can't take it."- he says, a bit breathless before he grips your hair harder and starts fucking your face.

Your eyes are blurry, tears sliding down your cheeks, as Seungmin abuses your throat with his thick, long cock but you love the feeling of choking on him every time his throbbing tip hits the back of your throat.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, your arousal dripping down your inner thighs and you press them together.

Seungmin's eyes are trained on your face, you look so pretty like this, all eager and full of him, your glasses sliding down your nose, strands of your hair framing your flushed teary cheeks.

"Fuck, you're beautiful."- Seungmin's cock twitches inside you, and he's already close.

Just the image of you taking it drives him crazy and he starts fucking your face wildly, you wonder how your glasses don't fall off from the strength he's fucking you with.

"I'm close."- he whines and you moan around him, more tears spilling out.

"You're gonna take all of it. Swallow like a good slut."- he moans as he fucks into you hard.

Your eyes flutter at his words and his hips stutter before he shoots his load right into your throat and you almost choke on it. You swallow as quickly as you can, taking everything he's giving you.

"Shit."- he leans away, his cock slipping out of your mouth and you cough a little, a dopey smirk on your face as he reaches to wipe your tears away.

He helps you up and kisses you until you're breathless, tasting himself on your tongue.

Your body is pushed down on your bed and Seungmin slots himself between your thighs.

"Tell me, is your collection of toys hidden somewhere around here?"

"Oh, yeah. You wanna see? Maybe use some of them on me?"- you bite on your lip.

"Another time. Tonight I want you to only know the shape of my cock."- he smirks, dragging his already semi-hard cock on your soaking wet pussy.

"S-Seungmin!"- you whimper, your pussy pulsating with arousal and need to be filled up.

He moves back, leaving you wanting more, his hands splayed on your waist and then hips before he quickly turns you around on all fours.

You gasp a little, grabbing at your pillow and you hear the buckle of his belt jingling.

"I want your hands above your head."- he says and you obey, he ties your wrists together and your hands to the bed with his belt.

You whimper as he spreads your legs more and lands a smack on your ass.

"Wanted to feel you for so long."- he runs his tip on your wet pussy, the folds opening up and inviting him in.

"Wanted to make you mine."- he growls lowly, the tip sliding inside you, one of his hands on the back of your neck, holding your head down and the other holding onto your hip.

"Make me yours, Seungmin! I want to be only yours!"- you moan as he slowly pushes in.

"Only my slut, yeah?"

"Yes, only your slut!"- his cock slides in easily due to your wetness and eagerness, he bottoms out quickly, filling you up to the brim and making both of you groan at the feeling.

"S-so full."- you moan, pushing your hips back into him.

"Yeah, you feel full?"- Seungmin chuckles, dragging his cock out before slamming it back into you with force, making your body lunge forward.

"M-more!"- you beg and Seungmin grips both your hips, knowing you can take it hard and fast, he's seen how you fuck yourself multiple times.

His hips start moving faster, slamming into you, his cock abusing your wet hole, the squelching and slapping sounds filling up the room.

"S-spank me, please!"- you moan desperately, your fingers clutching at the belt that's digging into your skin deliciously.

Seungmin indulges you, spanking you hard with every thrust, bringing his weight down onto you as he hovers over you. Your upper body is pressed into the matress, only your ass is up as you take his cock deep inside.

His other hand tangles in your messy hair, gripping a fistful of it.

You're a crying, whining mess as he rips you apart, his cock is unforgiving inside you, better than any plastic toy you have.

"Fuck, you take my cock so well. You're nothing but a little slut. Wouldn't you like it if I turned the camera on now, let everyone watch you get fucked?"

"Mm yes, yes!"- your mind is mushy and you're close, feeling like you're going to explode.

"Cum for me slut. Only for me."- Seungmin growls as he spanks you hard, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

"Ah yes! Seungmin!"- you whine loudly, exploding around his length, and he pulls out quickly cumming on your ass as you squirt.

The feeling of his hot cum on your skin makes you whimper as you grip at the belt harder.

The only thing that can be heard for a few moments is both of you breathing heavily before you hear Seungmin standing up and leaving to your bathroom.

You lay with your eyes closed, trying to come back down from the high and he comes back with a warm wet cloth, gently cleaning you up.

"How long are you keeping me tied up?"- you smile cheekily and Seungmin chuckles, your hair is a mess, your glasses lopsided and your cheeks tear stained. You look absolutely adorable to him and he falls into you even more.

"Just a few more moments."- he teases, wiggling his eyebrows, but he reaches for the belt, untying it and freeing your hands.

Your wrists are red and Seungmin gasps a little as you turn around, he gently takes your hands in his and brings them to his lips.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you."- he says.

"No, it's fine. I can take it."- you bite on your lip as he leaves little kisses all over your heated skin.

"I wanted to ask you out on a date but um... I guess we fast-forwarded a little."- Seungmin chuckles as you slowly sit up.

"I'd love to go on a date."- you smile, your hand inching closer to his, your fingers tangling together.

"Could end up a double date with Felix and Hyunjin though."- you add, giggling behind your palm.

"I thought I picked up on that but I wasn't sure."- he shakes his head.

"We'll see tomorrow."- you shrug.

"When's your roommate coming back?"- Seungmin asks, suddenly seeming timid.

"Oh, not in a few days probably. You can stay the night if that's what you're asking."- you smirk and pull him down, grabbing your blanket and throwing it haphazardly around the two of you.

Your legs tangle together and you look at each other, hands gently roaming everywhere.

"Do you mind me stripping and doing all that stuff in front of the camera?"- you ask and Seungmin chuckles.

"No, as long as I'm the only one who gets you in real life."- he kisses your forehead and your heart flutters.

"I like the sound of that."- you smile and settle into the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around you.

Sleep comes easy to the both of you.

-

The next day as you approach the cafeteria, the two of you see Hyunjin and Felix walking towards you, holding onto each other's pinky fingers.

"Look at that."- you laugh as you near them.

Felix quickly rips his hand away from Hyunjin when he notices both of you walking towards them.

"Hey, why are you ashamed of me! I'm like the hottest guy on campus!"- Hyunjin flails his arms dramatically.

"See, it's that attitude."- Felix comments and both of you laugh.

"And here I thought you liked my cockiness."- Hyunjin narrows his eyes at Felix, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"This is what I put up with."- he shakes his head at the taller boy.

"Is there something the two of you would like to share with us?"- you smirk.

"Only if the two of you also have something to share."- Hyunjin smirks back.

"How about we share a double date on Friday?"- Seungmin asks, winking at you.

"Finally! A foursome!"- Hyunjin exclaims and Felix smacks his arm.

"No more foursomes for you."- he hisses and everyone laughs.

"Alright, alright. You can keep me all to yourself."- Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows and Felix smiles shyly, his cheeks rosy.

You and Seungmin intertwine your fingers, your palms pressing together as you smile at each other.

Maybe it was meant to be like this from the beginning.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! How does a beast cookies x reader sound? Also the reader has a calming effect on cookies and is basically the groups therapy cookie. Like what if-

Shadow milk after episode 8: DO YOU KNOW WHY IM LIKE THIS?!?

Reader:Wanna talk about it?

SMC: haha..hahahHAHAHA-

*ten minutes later*

SMC leaning on our shoulder: And that was after Mystic started going off the deep end-

Reader calmly listening: mmhm

Interesting 👀👍

I'd like to imagine they're a Legendary who's been around for as long as the Beasts have, travelling the world to give therapy and healing to those who need it. So they're def more powerful than the average cookie

......

As a Legendary Cookie, it was your job to help give all denizens of Earthbread healing--mentally and emotionally, that is.

Your calming abilities enable virtually any cookie to feel relaxed in your company. Even those who are totally closed-off and were baked with the hardiest dough will eventually confide in you about whatever's on their minds.

And you give them advice, always knowing what to say, or simply listen and let them express their emotions.

You've been around for as long as the Five Beasts have, so you've seen a lot in your travels...including the many days and nights they spent terrorizing the world after they twisted their virtues into vices, trying to ease cookies' fears.

The Witches deemed them monsters worthy of being locked up in the Silver Tree...yet you realized they have never once considered why they fell from grace.

Having spent so much time helping the normal everyday folk, you felt some guilt in not checking in on the Beasts to make sure they were okay.

They were adored and revered figures..but even they might've needed somebody to talk to every once in a while.

Maybe they wouldn't have fallen down that dark path if you paid more attention to the signs....

But after they break out of the Silver Tree and face the Ancient Heroes who've "stolen" their soul jam, they hide away until they can figure out how to restore their powers and take their revenge.

That's where you come in, having visited Gingerbrave's kingdom and hearing about the Ancients' encounters with them.

You decided to go on a quest to Beast Yeast, hoping to find them and simply talk, which obviously wouldn't be easy had it not been for your powers.

They have some resistance to it, but one by one...their walls come down and you start to understand them better.

Shadow Milk

Of course, the last one to fall from grace had to be the first one you come across.

It's not long after his retreat from his Spire, still not back at his full strength, wanting to get away from Candy Apple and Black Sapphire Cookie for a while.

They finally saw him be defeated and..humiliated by Pure Vanilla Cookie, yet they're willing to stay and follow his every word?

Either way, he wanted to be alone--but unfortunately for him, that doesn't last long as you seize your opportunity to talk to him.

"Shadow Milk Cookie. The Fount of Knowledge-"

"Pah! Dunno who that other guy is. Only Shadow Milk Cookie is....here..?" He spins around, his eyes comically wide as he instantly recognizes your face. "You....you're-"

"Not dead? I've been around for as long as you, my friend." You chuckle. "I don't crumble easily."

"...it's amazing you haven't. Thought you would'a cracked under the weight of everyone's problems by now. But you're still trying to play the hero, huh?" He sneers. "Just like.....him. Riddle me this, [y/n] cookie...do you feel any guilt?"

"...I do."

"HAH! Well you...wait, you do?" He blinks. "Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes."

"..you're terrible at following this script. You're supposed to be confused and scared-"

"We're not on a stage, Shadow Milk Cookie. I'm not fooled as easily." You cut him off, firmly yet gently. "This is reality. And the reality is...you've been hurt so profoundly. Watching so many cookies embrace deceit instead of your gospels of truth must have been...difficult. You felt betrayed by them."

"........"

"Ever since..that day..I've felt guilty for not reaching out to you or the others sooner. I probably wasn't clear about my doors being open for you, too. I've been waiting for a chance to talk to you again. To help you feel heard, even though this was long, long overdue."

"Wow...and I thought Nilly had the biggest savior complex." He scoffs, trying to resist your magic's advances on his psyche. "Nice try, but you're not gonna get inside MY head, too. Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm not one of your fragile-minded cookie who unloads their entire sob story in one measly conversation!"

"It's not fragile to-"

"Besides..we haven't spoken in eons, so you don't even know HALF of what I've been through!! Not within the Silver Tree! NOT with Pure Vanilla Cookie! Not even before I turned to deceit!!"

Despite his anger, you remain unperturbed. "Exactly my point. So..why don't you help me understand? Let's talk about it."

"....like....right now?"

"Yeah? Unless you have an important date tonight."

"....hahahaha...AHAHAHAHA. Didn't you hear me, stupid cookie?! Obviously not, so allow me to rephrase it.......THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL THAT I'M EVER GOING TO-!!"

Fast forward to sometime later, when Black Sapphire Cookie finally finds his master...leaning on your shoulder while basically trauma dumping. The deceitful Beast was speaking from his mind, unfiltered, to a Legendary Cookie he's never met before.

"-and that was after Mystic Flour Cookie started going off the deep end. But could anyone blame her? No. Those damn cookies got greedy and began asking for the impossible."

"Mhm." You simply nod. "And after seeing her like that...what was going through your mind?"

"...like we were all just...losing it. So I guess hopeless? Scared that we were getting out of hand? I dunno. All I wanted was to be their teacher, to show them the truth....and look at me now!! I warned Pure Vanilla Cookie he'd fall down the same path if he continued the way he was headed...that traitorous prick.."

"He did tell me you rejected his friendship. But..would you consider revisiting that?" You hummed.

"I...no. I mean..I....I-I don't know.." He seems confused with himself. "I told the guy I hated him! What doesn't he get? He could have finished me off! Why does he still try after all I did to him?!"

"Because he sees the good in everyone, even you. I don't fully understand the soul jam connection, but...it seems like he's aware of your true feelings. Your loneliness after all that time spent in the tree. And you keep trying to deny them, afraid to draw back the curtain and express what you really feel."

"But when you've been a ruler of deceit since forever..why would I ever do that?! I don't need anyone! I....I especially don't need you or that stupid goody two shoes soul jam thief! But he....he just...why doesn't he just quit already?!" His voice cracks at the end. "H-He knows I'm a lost cause.."

Even though you can't see his face, the eyes on his hair are weeping, and that prompts you to put your arm around him. "It's easy for you to lie to others, but lying to yourself is way harder."

Despite not saying anything back, he doesn't reject the comfort.

In fact he unknowingly leaned against you more.

Black Sapphire can't believe what he's seeing--almost certain it's an illusion, but no.

This was the master of deceit confiding in someone else. Someone more familiar.

Despite feeling slightly jealous, he decides to leave you two be, distracting Candy Apple Cookie so she doesn't barge in and ruin things.

Burning Spice Cookie

"Ah, Burning Spice Cookie. Herald of Change, time hasn't been kind to-"

"You DARE utter that title?!! It is dead to me..just like you will be in a few moments!!" The Great Destroyer looms over you with his axe at the ready, scowling as you crossed paths with him in the ruins of his Spice Temple.

It was considerably difficult to even speak to him alone, especially with the last remnants of the Wild Spice warriors and Nutmeg Tiger Cookie trying their damnest to fight off your calming abilities...but not even their hardy dough can block it forever.

They let you through to see their master at his lowest point, even though he was still on a high from battling the recently awakened Golden Cheese Cookie.

"That's too bad. I was hoping you'd remember me. I was there when you once held that title with pride" You huff. "You welcomed me into your kingdom with open arms, allowing me to speak to the Wild Spices who had troubles on their minds, and the warriors who came home scarred by the things they've seen."

"....ah...you do seem familiar." He muses. "That's right. You're [Y/n] Cookie. The Legendary warrior of words. I bet you've never lifted a weapon in your life."

"My tongue is the only weapon I need, Burning Spice Cookie." You counter with equal sass.

Least to say...you intrigue him. You didn't cower, and even after all this time and knowing the things he's done, you sought him out anyways.

All just to....convince him to share his feelings?

He had a lot to say, but didn't even know where to begin.

He wondered where you were when kingdoms crumbled around him.

He wondered where you were when he kept watching those he loved die while he continued on living.

He wondered where you were when he decided that the only cure to his pain was destruction.

"Well, it's useless here. You could never understand what I-"

"So help me understand. That's why I do what I do. To better understand all Cookies I meet." You frowned slightly. "You were so convinced that you had to be strong for your people. To act like the passage of time hadn't dimmed your light. I understand why you never visited me. And for that, I apologize. I should've put more effort into-"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing you could have said or done to change the way I felt back then." He growled. "What would have been the point?"

"Maybe not, but talking about what and how you're feeling is better than keeping it all inside. You have your generals, sure..but you seldom speak with them. Not wanting to seem weak or soft-doughed in their eyes."

"When they only ever see you as a god, why would...." Suddenly, he's aware of the vulnerability he was showing, and his whole demeanor flips on its head. "GRRRAHH!!" He slams his axe down, nearly splitting the earth between you. "All I feel is pissed off that you're trying to get inside my head! Who told you where I was, mind reader?!!"

"Oh..just a little golden birdie." You calmly reply. "I heard you two had a glorious final battle."

"...ah yes. In spite of my loss, it was...the most entertaining battle I've had in a long time." He grins, recounting that fight.

"Really? Do tell."

Before you know it, he's back to talking again--about the battle, what happened before that, and the rest is history.

Your calming powers have been hard at work, but you've finally gotten him to open up a little more, and somehow he feels...lighter?

It's weird feeling. Weird, but new.

At that time, Nutmeg Tiger returns to her senses and sees you talking to him, furious that she let her guard down and that you were speaking to her lord without permission--

Only for you to calmly stand up and walk away, while she's shouting for you to come back and explain your actions.

"Hexing a Wild Spice is one thing, but turning your back on one will be your LAST mistake-!"

"Enough, General. They will not trouble us anymore."

"...they won't? But my lord, they put a spell on us-!"

"I said enough." He snaps. "I've known [Y/n] Cookie since before you were baked. Has their spell impeded your duties?"

"No, but-"

"Then return to your post."

"....as you wish, Great One." She eventually leaves, and he continues to ponder over your talk with him.

Mystic Flour Cookie

Tracking her down in Beast Yeast was a rather simple task.

All you had to do was look where the white fog has gathered. Luckily, your abilities grant you immunity to the apathy that ordinary cookies would easily be overwhelmed by.

When Mystic Flour laid waste to the world with pale ailment storms, doctors, nurses, and healers dealt with the physical symptoms of patients--while you assisted with the mental.

They may not be crumbling and have flour-white dough anymore, but apathetic thoughts linger in their minds long after treatment. Passions are lost and replaced with nihilism, and your duty was to bring them out of those dark places and remind them of what they loved and how it's all worth it and meaningful in the end.

Luckily, you were able to guide them back on the right path again, and suddenly their eyes regained their spark; their dough's color was returned, and you'd send them off to resume their normal life.

After the Dark Cacao Kingdom was 100% liberated from the flour storm, you ventured to Beast Yeast to find her, eventually meeting Cloud Haetae Cookie, who had been revived.

They didn't seem bothered by the fact their own master killed them, taking you personally to see her and giving you steamed rolls as they talked about her battle with Dark Cacao Cookie.

"She almost convinced him to accept futility. She was so, so close..but then that fool had to go and summon these two dragons to help him-"

"Who are you speaking to, Cloud Haetae Cookie?"

Before you could respond, Mystic Flour takes one look at your face and immediately knows who you are.

"[Y/n] Cookie. You're the reason why my clouds of apathy have lifted.."

"Well..having a bunch of nameless, faceless cookies moping about doesn't exactly make the world go round, my dear." You jest, although you fall silent as she just stares through you. "I know your heart carries a most heavy burden. The burden of not being able to satisfy everyone..and being a victim of-"

"You have not once set foot in my Ivory Pagoda to talk. And now, after all these years..." Given her pause...you knew her emotions were trying to bubble to the surface. Like yeast rising.

"I understand. I've heard it from the others already. This...comes much too late." You bow your head. "I remember seeing those lines, and I didn't wish to be perceived as another beggar. I'm sure you already knew my wish."

"They always expected you to solve their problems." She continued. "But it never feels like enough, does it? Don't you grow weary of their endless demands? Their pleas for you to "fix" everything wrong with them? You can only help them so much before they bleed you dry and give you nothing, [Y/n] Cookie. Not even a "thank you". Trust me...I have been there." Her face darkens. "We are not so different."

"Perhaps not. We've always looked out for the best interest of cookies...at our own expense." You agreed. "But I know a lot of them have appreciated my help. I'm sorry they never gave you that same respect, Mystic Flour Cookie."

"I do not dwell on it, for it is futile. It's a shame that you would never come to accept that same futility."

"I don't see a reason to start now," you chuckle, before you talked to her more about your recent work and the cookies you've helped, including Shadow Milk and Burning Spice.

It's clear that you reminded her of her old self a lot--before all the selfish cookies came along and attributed to her pain and corruption and imprisonment.

She thought she could talk you out of that path, certain you'll realize what true futility is like she did...

But you remain steadfast in your duty to help all cookies you meet. Even her.

[jobean12-blog]

My Hero

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: ~1K

Summary: Joel comes home from work and no matter how many times he does you’re always the happiest to see him-domestic fluff

Author’s Note: @lizette50 shared the pic below with me and even though it’s from Freaky Tales I thought of husband!Joel bc the wedding ring and overall look works AND RING! Haha always gets me! Thanks my friend for fueling my addictions. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always❤️❤️❤️divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: fluff, kisses, sexiness, domestic fluffs, a spider…

The sun dips low in the sky, dusting you in a golden hue as the quiet of dusk settles in the house.

“Darlin?” He whispers, watching as you stir on the couch, the blanket falling from your shoulder.

Your bare skin, like always, looks soft and inviting and he wrestles back a groan.

“What time is it?” You ask as you stretch your legs out.

“Lil’ after seven.”

He slowly approaches and the closer he gets the more goosebumps appear on the slope of your neck, highlighted by the setting sun.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you hold his gaze from under your lashes.

Awareness.

You’re always so fucking aware of him.

He reaches the couch and stands over you, leaning down slightly to trace the curve of your shoulder.

You sit up and he wraps a gentle hand around your throat, lifting your eyes to his with a brush of his thumb just under your chin.

“What did you do all day without me?” He asks.

“Miss you.”

Your hands lift to his belt buckle and with quick ministrations you have it open and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.

He hums and slides his hand from your throat, down to your breast to massage the softness.

When he falls to the couch you move onto his lap and he drags his lips slowly across yours.

“Oh yeah?” He simpers, smiling against your mouth.

Your breathy response is swallowed by his hard kiss, his fingers splaying and sliding along your skin to tug you closer.

Your head falls back to expose your neck and at the drag of his beard along your skin you moan out his name and rock your hips.

With the tilt of your head and your gaze upward you catch sight of something hanging from the ceiling.

At first it looks like a string of dust but when it starts to wiggle and climb you go still and your body tenses.

“Angel?” He asks, immediately removing his mouth from your skin, concern clouding his features.

“Joel.”

“Yeah…?”

“There’s a GIGANTIC spider hanging from the ceiling. Oh my god.”

He chuckles, his nose a soft bump against yours when he whispers, “ain’t nothin’ to fret about.”

You shake your head, tightly gripping the front of his flannel.

“No. Nope. You have to do something!”

He pauses with his lips hovering above yours.

“Now angel?”

“Right now!”

With a pained sigh he lifts you off him and stands, walking toward the door to grab one of his large boots.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice rising to a frantic tone.

“Takin’ care of the spider.”

“You can’t kill it!”

He turns to you with a look of disbelief.

“Then what do you want me to do with it? Walk him outside and put him in the garden?”

You swallow and look back at the spider then to Joel.

“Yes please.”

His eyes narrow.

“You ain’t jokin’ darlin’.”

You crawl to the edge of the couch and grab his hips.

“Just put him outside somewhere safe!”

He stares down at you, jaw set in a hard line before his expression softens and he purses his lips.

“Fine.”

He sets down the boot and lifts onto his toes, his open jeans sliding further down his hips to reveal the dark trail of hair below his belly button.

You reach out and trace your fingertips through it, making him wiggle.

“Darlin,” he warns.

You refrain but your eyes never leave the spot, lips wet and parted.

“I can feel you starin’,” he says through a smile.

“Just staying focused on something other than the spider.”

His large hands are delicate as he wraps a thick finger around the silken strand and pulls it off the ceiling.

With sure movements-while also careful not to bring the arachnid too close to you- he heads toward the door.

You get up in a rush and skirt around him to open it. He walks outside and to the garden, bending down to gently set the spider inside a potted plant.

When he stands and turns to you, his pants still undone but a soft smile on his face, you’re overcome with love, rushing out to fall into his arms.

“You’re my hero,” you whisper into his chest.

“Love you angel,” he murmurs. “And that little cockblocker better be happy now.”

[cillians-sweetheart]

Secret Boyfriend - Thomas Shelby

Thomas Shelby(39) x Fem!Reader(18)

Plot: Y/N has a new, secret boyfriend who she meets up with late in the night to avoid judgement from her parents as he is not quite what they would want, but perfect for Y/N in pleasing all her needs.

Content: Smut, age-gap, pet names, secrecy, oral (m), rubbing (m & f), car sex, riding, dirty talk (m & f), huge daddy kink, no protection, Tommy sounds kinda pervy but romantic too

(Modern day Thomas Shelby in this story)

Laying in my little white bed, I kick my feet and grin at my screen while I text my new boyfriend, Thomas. I’ve met him through the internet and have met with a few times late at night when my parents were asleep. 

I couldn’t have them find out I had been seeing a man almost 3 times my age. I was freshly 18, and still a child to them. They’d never understand what Tommy and I have. He was tall, and fit. And each time I’d see him he’d wear the type of suits he wore to work. Perfectly tailored to his figure, and always smelling rich and manly. There was no way I could keep my hands to myself when I was with him.

Most nights I’d run out to his car in the dark and we’d drive around the city to an empty road where he'd kiss, and caress me until the sun rose. His lips were always so gentle. And during the day I’d sneak away from everyone to text him. 

{“I miss you”}, I texted while smiling and giggling like a high school girl. I mean technically I was, so it made sense.

Just seconds after a new message pops up on my screen. {“I miss you too my girl ;)”}

{“how was work?”}

{“Ah, it was fine, just boring office stuff. Nothing interesting.”} Thomas sent while sitting alone in his house, still in his work clothes and also grinning to himself.

{“Can I see you tonight?”}

{“Won’t your parents be home, baby?”}

{“Please daddy… I need you”}

Thomas chuckled to himself, {“Haha baby, don’t do this to me. I really want to come and touch you but I don’t want you getting caught”}

{“When my parents go to sleep I can sneak out and come meet you. No one will see me”}

{“Oh baby, you’re just tempting me. You know I can’t resist feeling you… I’ll be there tonight.”}

{“Ok thank you daddy, I’ll see you soon”} 

I sent the message with my cheeks a flustered shade of pink. I quickly jumped up from my bed and changed into nicer clothing and quickly applied makeup on my smooth face. It was getting late anyway so I’d get ready now. 

Thomas too got up and grabbed his car keys. He loved how I begged for him, and how I’d do anything just to see him. And soon enough he arrived outside my house. He was nervous for me, but couldn’t wait another second longer to touch me. 

{“I’m here love. Whenever you’re ready”}

{“Coming daddy”} I quickly replied and quickly ran down the stairs to the front door. 

When I came outside, Thomas was leaning against his expensive car with that handsome smirk he always got when he saw me. I quickly ran to him with my short dress flowing in the wind and brushing against my thighs. I wrapped my body around him in a tight hug, and inhaled deeply his rich scent and felt his toned chest through his shirt.

“Oh my princess…” He smiled and kissed the top of my head. “Come on baby.” He led me to the passenger seat and opened the door for me. 

We drove around through the dark empty roads. His big hand lightly rubbed my bare thigh with intimate caresses. Slowly I began to slide down in the seat making his hand go higher and higher between my legs. He got the hint and trailed his hand up my dress to gently tickle me through my thin, lacy pantries. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off him from beside me as he rubbed me with his finger. I bit my lip and whimpered at his touch. He looked over to me, his eyes scanning from my shivering legs up to my baby doll face. 

“You’re such a cute girl… couldn’t wait to see daddy, couldn’t you?” He asked with his voice so smooth, and silky on my ears. 

“Mhm,” I nodded, looking down between my legs at my growing wetness for him. 

Eventually after several minutes driving through the quiet streets, Thomas parked at the end of a dead road. There was nothing but trees and darkness all around us. Thomas turned off the car and turned to me. 

“Give daddy a kiss.” He leaned in closer to me, moving his hands up to hold my face. I instantly fell into him and my lips latched onto his hungrily. Sweet little moans escaped my lips each time they’d separate even the slightest. 

Thomas pulled back to look closely at my face. With his thumb he traced my bottom lip, and in return I kissed his skin lovingly like a little puppy. “Such a good girl… you know exactly how to please your daddy, hm?” 

I nodded, continuing to kiss his thumb and over his whole hand. My submission was more than obvious for him. There’s nothing I’d not do for him. 

I pulled my lips away from his hand and Thomas leaned back to get out of the car. I watched him outside just briefly before he got back into the car in the backseat. He sat right in the middle with his legs spread and his bulge showing through his dress pants. 

“Come here.” He sat back, watching me with amusement as I crawled to him. “Good girl… Crawl to daddy.” His voice was low and sensual, making my legs shiver. 

In the backseat I straddled Thomas’s lap and looked into his blue eyes that I could barely see in the dark, but I could feel the lust in them. 

My hands felt around on his muscular chest and unbuttoned his shirt as my hands travelled lower and lower down his torso. His skin beneath was hot, and smooth and the hair on his chest, and below his belly button made my panties wet as I touched it. His legs spread wider, and his pants grew tighter. I felt as his hardening cock poked and rubbed me through my pantries. It made my mouth water.

I moved to the side on the leather seat next to him and looked up into his eyes while I eagerly undid his pants. His hips moved lower into the seat and his head laid back against the leather. He felt his cock just aching to be touched, and sucked. 

“That’s good baby, keep going.” He groaned under his breath while I pulled his big, needy cock from his pants. My eyes glared up into his while my face and lips slowly lowered to his hot, wet skin. I kissed and licked at his pink tip like a little kitten while making eye contact the whole time.

Thomas petted my silky hair while looking down at me with admiration, “My good baby… pleasing your daddy so well,” He groaned to the feeling of my lips hungrily sucking and kissing on his tip. His hand gripped in my hair and he tilted my face up to look at him while he pushed my mouth down the length of his thick cock. He groaned and cursed while I loved on his sweet, sensitive skin. I needed to give daddy more and slowly bobbed my head and sucked in my cheeks around him. “Hmh… god… just like that baby, just like that.” 

I sucked and swallowed him like it was the last thing I’d ever do. I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. He tasted so good, and making my daddy feel good was all that I lived for. 

I pulled my mouth up from his dripping cock with a pop when he tugged on my hair. “Come.” He patted his thigh and I obediently sat up and straddled his lap. “Let daddy see that little pussy…” He was voice rough and hot in my neck and he lifted the straps of my pantries off and down my hips. I leaned back and let him strip me until I was completely naked on his lap, sitting and waiting for the attention I craved. 

“So cute,” He whispered glaring down my body and between my legs. His fingers slipped between my legs and slowly he rubbed my wet clit in gentle circles.

I was so sensitive from my growing arousal, and my sweet sounds and whimpering just encouraged him more. 

His fingers felt so perfect, rubbing faster and harder. I grind against his fingers eagerly spreading my wetness all over his hand. “You wanna cum?” He asked with his breath hot in my neck. 

“Mhm… Mhm daddy, please” 

“Cum on my cock… rub it.” He turned to lay back onto the seats and I sat on his cock against his lower stomach. My wet lips stroked his length, and my clit rubbed against his smooth veiny skin. I moaned and whimpered all sweet and desperate while I rubbed my pussy on him. 

Tommy gripped my hips, “fuck…,” he groaned with his head falling back. My soft lips were practically milking him and filling his stomach with precum. And eventually, I came with loud needy moans, and my fingers digging into his chest. His cock was absolutely throbbing by now and was bigger than it's ever been. 

“Oh, that’s such a good girl…” he praised sitting back up on the seat, me still on his lap. Tommy’s hands reached up into my hair holding my face close to his. We kissed sloppily while I sat and lowered myself down onto his aching cock. It filled my little hole so perfectly. Made purely just for him, as he’s the only one who’s ever used it. 

My hands held onto Tommy’s bulky shoulders, and he lifted his hips to forcefully thrust. My high pitched moans were in sync with his quick movements, and echoed throughout the car. The windows fogged and the air around us got hot and humid. 

Tommy’s lips sucked and kissed at my neck leaving his mark of property. My fingernails dug into his back and shoulders while trying to muffle my pleasurable whines in his hot neck. 

“Yes… Yes!” I yelled pounding my hips down onto him. “Daddy!” My body trembled and grew weak. Thomas took control using all his strength to buck his hips up against mine, his cock reaching deep inside. 

Thomas’s hand held tightly onto my plump butt, moving me up and down. Both of our skin grew damp with sweat and arousal. The movement between us got sloppy the closer we got. Neither of us had a proper thought but the feelings in our bodies. Everything between us with our bodies and lips, it went so fast like time hadn’t existed. Nothing existed when he and I were together, nothing but each other. 

And eventually over those last few, sloppy thrusts, Thomas’s cock shot his hot cum deeply into my cervix. His hips bucked up into mine forcefully which broke me into spilling my fluids onto his lap. I held onto him tightly as the sensitivity grew and faded and as our bodies began to slow down to a stop. 

I breathed heavily with little whimpers escaping with my exhale. I could feel Tommy relax and soften while still inside me. And before we moved we took the time just holding each other and gently kissing with the little energy we had left. 

I could feel the love Thomas had for me from the way he’d caress my bare hip and kiss me ever so gently. There was always a difference between him -in the way he acted-  before and after sex, but I loved both sides equally. He was rough and dominant but also gentle and romantic. And in the end he’d drive me home and kiss every inch of my face before I’d go back inside to sleep peacefully. 

“I love you my sweet girl,” He’d say each time. 

And from me, “I love you too, daddy.” With a kiss on his cheek. 

[mxmis]

The way they sleep with you~ Arcane

A/n: a short fluff writing about how they would sleep with you sfw finished the show recently and can’t stop thinking about these characters

Vi~🥊

Probably gets to bed at an alright time most nights but can’t help coming home late

She will be quick to make it up to you if you stay up waiting for her

Big spoon 90% of the time she loves the contact of your heartbeat close to hers helps her stay calm if she’s got something bugging her from that day

The other 10% or less is when she has had a really bad day or a very serious intimate moment between you two

She feels vulnerable during this time and wants you to be the one to hold her, facing each other her head close to your chest your arms locked around her neck and shoulders

Usually up before you due to being used to prison schedule and her own daily workouts

Wakes you up by softly stroking your forehead to your jaw with the back of her hand

“Hey cupcake did you sleep good? Well every night I’m with you is a good night ;) Haha well I’m just telling you the truth. Love these moments with you y’know. Just you and me no stress no frustrations just us”

Jinx~🦋

Most cuddly of them all

No big spoon or little spoon just the two of you in a pile of entangled limbs, smiles, and kisses

Has not preference on how you cuddle or any position just likes being close to you

There is an exception, if she’s having an outburst and mental breakdown she will attach herself to you, her head against your chest and her legs wrapped around you

She will lie there for a while even after the voices stop. She’s listening to your heartbeat and greatly appreciates you letting her

Very lazy morning person and probably the worst sleep schedule Actually more like no sleep schedule at all

You will be the one waking her up more often than not and you are usually met with a groan and a “five more minutes” as she’ll wrap her arms around your neck and pull you back down

Will be in contact with you throughout the entire time she’s asleep it may be a hand or a leg or most likely her entire body

“Mmmh wake me in a year. Who says I can’t stay. Ugh right right big ol responsibility bleh. Who needs all those responsibilities when I’ve got everything I need right here. Yup my tools, gadgets, plans and bed. Yeah yeah I guess I would say you’re on that list. I’m just kidding you’re at the top of the list *mwah*

Caitlyn~🔵

Alright sleep schedule, sometimes gets caught up in her cases and loses track of time you usually have to remind her of time and bring her to dreamland

More focused on what you like in these types of situations, if you want to be held she’ll hold you and the same for if you want to hold her

Will read you to sleep if you ask but sometimes if your gently playing with her hair or being really soft with her she’ll fall asleep to your touch

No preference on being big spoon or little spoon as long as she is with you she doesn’t care and if you carried her to bed then she’s already too asleep to care

Will somehow wake up ready to go basically every morning, her superpower is restful sleep and somehow she always looks amazing no bed head or anything

“Morning love” she leans down and softly kisses your forehead lingering for a second as if she’s debating another one “Breakfast is ready, I decided since you helped me to bed I’ll help you out of bed” she chuckles

[sports-on-sundays]

Hello hello, I am back with another request! It's with Oscar again but friends to lovers. Hear me out, the most cliche thing ever. Oscar loves her, she loves him but both too dense to realise it. They are out and about and another dude corners her and tries to make out with her, Oscar saves the day (make him protective and violent pls, make him punch the guy (side note: I would pay money to see Oscar actually punch someone, don't ask me why idk🙈)). So then he comforts her, takes her home and she asks him to stay. I will leave the rest of the convo to you🤗. Let there be a first kiss and cuddle I beg I am the biggest sucker for those bcs Oscar seems like the best guy to have your firsts with.

Holy hell that's a long ass request haha. Thank you for reading all that🤣 have fun with it and feel free to change things up a little bit if you want to!

be / OP81

Summary: Oscar x female!best childhood friend!Australian!reader - You and Oscar are finally forced to realize your feelings for each other.

Warnings: panicking, someone forcing himself onto another person, blood, crying, i did change up the request a little bit 🤏, feeling sick

Requested: Yes! And don't worry about the long request, I really liked it, and thanks so much for requesting! Long requests are better sometimes anyway.

Author's Note: Guys I'm starting to think I seriously need my very own Oscar Piastri....

"It wasn't even that funny-"

"It wasn't even that funny!"

Both you and Oscar look up to who it was mockingly imitating Oscar's friendly teasing, and your eyes set themselves upon Lando Norris, smirking obnoxiously.

"What's your problem?" you demand, crossing your arms, most of the laughter from Oscar's joke that he made fives minutes ago (yes, you were still laughing your head off at it) gone.

"What do you mean? I'm just kidding. It's just funny how your boyfriend can make the most dumb joke, and send you both into a ten minute laughing fit-"

"Boyfriend?" you and Oscar seem to ask incredulously in sink.

The smile falls off of Lando's face this time, and is replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. "Waaaait... So you're trying to tell me you guys aren't dating?"

Oscar blinks a few times in confusion. "Y/n and I are just friends. We always have been."

"Yeah," you add quickly, nodding. "I don't know why everyone thinks differently."

Lando's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Maybe because you guys act like you're mad in love...? Like, all the time? Or maybe the fact that you come to every single one of our races? Or maybe it's the way you look at each other with heart eyes, like the other one is the only one in the room? I mean, I don't know. It could be the way you're always giggling and talking and yapping to each other... But, oh, what do I and everybody else know?"

"Good question," Oscar deadpans. "What do you know?"

Lando shrugs, rollings his eyes, and struts away. As soon as he's gone, Oscar turns back to you with a little shrug and says, "Sorry about that. I guess nobody gets that two people can love each other as friends without feeling romantic feelings..."

You nod, shrugging. It makes sense to you, simply because that's how it's always been with you and Oscar, forever. The two of you practically slept in the same crib (not literally!). You always just assumed he's like a brother or something, and it doesn't pay to consider anything else. So you haven't. Too risky, and besides- that's not worth it to waste your time thinking about. You like things just the way they are, no need to change them.

"-Y/n?"

"Hm?!" you look up, snapping out of your pondering.

Oscar smiles at you, his brown eyes soft, like they always are when he looks at you. You smile back, eyes equally as warm as he says, "Did you hear me?" in amusement.

You chuckle, "No, sorry."

He nods, giving your shoulder a little pat as he stands up. "I've got to go now get ready for the race. First of the season. Wish me luck!"

"Luck isn't needed," you say with a little grin. "You've got enough skill alone to win it."

He grins. "I guess. But luck never hurts, does it?"

"Not at all." You stand up with him and give him a quick half-hug, saying gentler, "Drive safe, and bring it home. I'll be cheering you on."

"Like always?"

"Like always."

"Hey, Y/n?"

You look up from your phone, shutting it off. You're sitting alone, long after the 2025 season opening race, the Australian Grand Prix, has ended. You haven't seen Oscar since the race ended, and have just been sitting around, not wanting to go home until you have a chance to talk with him. And there he is, standing there, back in his regular clothes: a black sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers, looking thoroughly sleepy.

You immediately stand up, smiling, saying simply, "It was a great drive."

"Well, I-"

"Hush. You scored points after what happened, and that's enough, for goodness' sake."

He smiles softly, and though his eyes say a lot more, he just nods and says simply, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. As always."

You nod promptly and say teasingly, "I know!"

He just rolls his eyes and says, already in a better mood just by talking to you, "Mum wanted you over tonight for dinner."

You grin, "She did, did she?"

"You know she always does, whenever I'm around, want me to bring you over. She adores you."

"She's the sweetest," you chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't mind one of your mum's home cooked meals."

Oscar nods, grabbing his coat, and saying, "I agree; that would hit the spot right now. C'mon."

You two make it to the car and get in, before you start heading to Oscar's mother's home. The car ride is mostly silent, but neither of you really mind. It's a comfortable, good kind of silence.

Towards the end of it, though, you ask simply, "So, that's the end of the first race week of the season. How're you feeling?"

Oscar shrugs, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "Hmm... I guess I'd have to say tired, but very hopeful."

You smile. "Good. You just need your beauty rest, huh?"

He glances at you with a cute little smile. "Right."

Dinner is nice. Warm, and reminds you of home, and your childhood, and everything good. And it's perfect for a rainy day like today.

Once he's finished eating, though, Oscar stands up, stretching, from the table, and says, "Well, I should be off to bed..."

"Oh, Oscar, you will give poor Y/n a ride home won't you?" Oscar's mother asks.

He looks over at you with a little smile and nods, saying, "Oh, right, of course."

You walk to the door together, but before Oscar opens the front door to leave, you gently grab his arm and say simply, "Osc."

He looks up from unlocking the door, meeting your eyes. "Hm?" he asks gently.

"You don't need to drive me home. I could get a cab or take the bus or whatever. It's all good. You've had a crazy week, as it is, much crazier than mine-"

"I mean, I was thinking maybe it'd be fine if I didn't drive you home, too, but you don't have to get a cab. I'm sure if I asked, my mum would be fine with you just staying the night or something."

You blink in surprise, but smile at the suggestion. "Oh. Well, I'd hate to bud in-"

He smiles. "You're family, Y/n. Don't worry." He takes your hand, tugging you back towards the dining room, calling, "Mum! Would it be fine if Y/n just stayed the night? We've both had a long day!"

"Oh, of course, honey! Tell her she can make herself just all nice and comfy and at home! Y/n's such a sweetheart, anyways. She's always welcome!"

Oscar smiles, looking at you. "You heard that, right?"

You smile back up at him with a little laugh. "Yeah, I heard that."

He nods, saying, "C'mon, let's go to my room."

The two of you head there, both of you knowing the way to Oscar's childhood bedroom from all the years you used to spend in there together. When you walk in, seeing all the dressers in the same place they always were, and all Oscar's old decorations from his karting days, memories seem to flood back, just like that, and both you and Oscar feel it. You crawl onto his bed, just like you always used to do, flopping down against his pillows, making yourself at home.

Oscar smiles and crawls in next to you. Just like he always used to do, too. "Last time we were both here was..."

"...right after you joined McLaren, right?" you smile at the memory.

"I guess so." He smiles down at you.

"I remember distinctly, one time, you had been gone so, so long, and I asked your mum if I could surprise you when you got home..."

Oscar starts laughing, clearly remembering it to. "Ohhh yeah. I threw open the bedroom door and flopped on my bed, even though you were on it. By the time I saw you and yelped, it was too late."

"Yeah, and I wrapped my arms around you and started tickling you," you say giggling.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. "I remember. By the end of it, I was gasping and near tears. God, Y/n, you know I was tired."

"I know. But I made you laugh and smile, didn't I? And I made you feel better, didn't I?"

"I mean, I was just happy to see you," he says, his gaze comfortably resting on yours.

"I was happy to see you. Do you know how much I missed you those months?"

"You miss me if you don't see me for a week, Y/n, still."

"Why do you think I come to every race that I can?"

"Because I pay for you to?"

You roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms, "I mean, yeah, but that's not the sentiment I was going for!"

He laughs, giving your shoulder a little playful tap. "I know, I know."

You sigh deeply, the sweet silence settling between the two of your for a little while, before murmuring, "And I hope you remember after that tickle attack, when your face was red and you were nearly crying from laughing, I gave you the biggest hug of all time..."

Oscar's face warms at that as he leans a bit closer to you. "Yeah... Yeah, I remember. You wanna know why that moment was special to me?"

"Why?"

"Because that was the moment I realized that there are some people in my life that never truly will leave me. Even if I leave them. And you're one of the best of them. That was when I learned what family is."

You nod slowly, thinking about that for a few moments, before saying, "That's... so sweet. I like it."

Oscar smiles. "Me, too. I like it too. I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you."

"And I so lucky to have a best friend like you."

Oscar smiles at that, nodding, satisfied, before letting out a big yawn, reminding you if a sleepy cat, before folding his hands up into fists and rubbing his watery eyes.

And, as if it's contagious, you let your own yawn, a few moments later.

Oscar smiles, this time more sleepily at you, before slipping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you a little closer to himself. You flop your head to lean against his shoulder, and murmur, "Time for us both to get the much-needed rest our bodies are begging us for?"

"Mmm-hm. Yeah. Whatever you said," Oscar murmurs as he drifts off, the hint of a smile still lingering on his mostly relaxed face.

And you both drift off, surrounded by that perfect warmth and tranquility that feels just like home.

A little under a week later, you're sleeping against Oscar in a very similar position, feeling like you're just as at home in China than you are in Australia, simply because of the person you're resting against, when you're awakened by the painful claims, "I ship it, the mechanics ship it, the other teams' drivers ship it, the fans ship it. My God, even my mum ships it! Literally everyone can see you're mad in love except you and her!"

You stretch, your eyes fluttering open, and murmur before you're even sure it's Lando's unwanted yapping torturing your ears, "Landooo shut uppp..."

Oscar gives your shoulder a squeeze, groaning to Lando in his perfectly alert awake state (contrary to yours), "Look at that, Lando, you made her wake up!"

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you'd hate for her to stop sleeping against y-"

"Lando, stop, it's not like that."

"How come every time a girl and a guy are friends, everyone ships them? I think that's society's problem," you comment as you rub your tired eyes.

Lando snorts, saying, "It's not every time. You guys are just obvious. And oblivious. You just need to admit it to each other."

"There's nothing to admit to each other, Lando," Oscar comments as he watches you slowly lean off of him, slipping his arm off your shoulders.

"Yeah, we're, like, brother and sister."

"Well, I wouldn't say that-" Oscar begins quickly.

"I mean, yeah, like-"

"We're more like just really close friends," Oscar finishes confidently.

"Yes, that's true, I agree," you say quickly, looking up at him. "We're family, but not brother and sister."

"Ah, so you're family, but it's not like siblings. What else could you be other than mad in love but just too dense to realize it?" Lando asks.

You just glare, crossing your arms, and Oscar comments, "I don't know, but it's not like that."

"Maybe it's just not like that simply because you both refuse to admit what you really want."

"Lando, I don't need you of all people being my psychologist. Could you just leave it?" you comment, feeling Oscar's eyes watching you.

Lando sighs (overdramatically), shrugs, and says, "Suit yourself. I'm just saying, you guys have got to get together soon, or else you'll drive yourselves and everyone else insane. We can all tell you guys just need to kiss already." And with that, he once again struts away.

As soon as he's gone, you whine, leaning your head into Oscar's shoulder, "I hate Lando!"

"Don't say that. He's just kidding," Oscar says gently.

You sigh. "I know... it's just..."

"Hm?" Oscar prompts gently.

"I don't want people thinking something that's not true."

"Who cares what they think? We both know how we feel about each other, and that's all that matters." But do we? Oscar's brain echoes.

"Yeah, you're right," you murmur, nodding, comforted by his words, not even picking up the way he stares forward, eyebrows knitted together, deep in thought.

You've heard what you think you want to hear, and that's all that matters to you.

The moment you see Oscar after his podium, after he stood on the first step, winning such a solid race as that, you run into his arms, causing him to laugh as he hugs you back, saying, "Hey, Y/n."

"I'm so proud of you!" you say excitedly. "Amazing drive- amazing!"

"Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. I'm so happy you were here to cheer me on."

You grin up at him. "Me, too, Oscar. Me too."

He celebrated with his team after the race, you staying in your hotel, since Oscar promised you he'd like to bring you home with him to Monaco, and have a more low key celebration, without as many people. Besides, you'd like it that way better anyway. And this way, you can get some extra sleep and try to avoid some of the jet lag from the long flight to Monaco.

Now you stand in Oscar's bathroom back in Monaco, gazing at yourself in the mirror in your white crop top and silver skirt, knowing that when you step out of the bathroom, all you need is for Oscar to tell you it looks nice, and then all your worries will vanish.

And once you do, of course, he stands up from the living couch and says, "You look really pretty. Ready to go?"

You smile softly, sighing in relief, and nod. "Yes. I'm ready to go celebrate with the winner of the 2025 Chinese Grand Prix." You laugh a bit, and add as you head out to the car, "Oscar, you know I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He grins. "I know, I know." You know he loves your lavishing, even if he wouldn't admit it. He's never gotten enough of it; you're one of the people that appreciate him the most, you think, at least. You appreciate him a whole lot, anyways.

Soon you get to your destination, and the night starts off really fun, you and Oscar just sticking with each other, laughing, singing, drinking, and dancing. But after too long, the air becomes stale, the noise becomes too loud, and the drinks turn bitter. You're tired, and Oscar's off somewhere, swept away with his other friends. You sigh deeply, leaning against the wall, running a hand through your hair.

It's then that you feel a hand on your shoulder, and it makes you flinch. It's unfamiliar.

It's not Oscar's hand.

You look up to see a man around your age with tangled overgrown curly brown hair and dark, cold eyes. He's wearing a gold chain around his neck and a football jersey. It's then that he shows you his unflattering smirk and says in a thick French accent, "I'm Jordan."

You just kind of nod, showing a fake smile and crossing your arms, not really in the mood for any antics with any strange guys.

His eyebrows raise as he says, "Do you have a name, or am I going to have to give you one?"

Your lip immediately curls up as you look at him from the corner of your eye, still not tilting your face directly towards him. "You're not smooth. My name is Y/n."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl. A sassy girl, too, at that. I like that."

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes in utter annoyance at this guy 'Jordan.' "Good for you..." you murmur, trying to send him the message that you really don't want to talk with him.

Jordan just hums and steps closer to you. You glance up at him for the first time, really, feeling a bit sick from how close he is to you. You murmur awkwardly, "Could you please step away?"

"No, I don't think I will. I'm enjoying your reaction too much."

"Please, stop."

He roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You swallow deeply.

"I really like your skirt..." he purrs, leaning in closer to you, completely ignoring your protests. His hand slips onto your thigh and grips it tightly.

"Stop... I don't care-"

"You don't, don't you? Well, what a shame... I reckon there's not much you can do about that..."

"St-"

He lips meet yours in a nasty, rough kiss. Your head pounds and spins as your knees begin to shake, panic of what's happening sinking in, your thoughts raging with anxious thoughts at the same time as your head being completely empty. You push at his chest, but he pushes his whole body up against yours, pinning you to the wall, further into a shadow.

You gasp, the panic sinking in deeper, and hardly register what happens next.

Oscar's familiar voice in all the chaos says in one of the angriest, coldest tones you've ever heard from his mouth, "Get your fucking nasty hands away from her."

Jordan tears his lips away from your mouth as Oscar grabs him, Jordan turning his head to look behind him, but before he has a chance to react, you watch as a fist comes flying across and hits him square across the face. He stumbles back and as blood begins gushing from his nose. For a moment, his eyes meet yours in shock, as if he expects you to help a dog like him, but it's then that you watch Oscar grab him by the collar and murmur in the darkest of tones to him, "I told you to get your nasty hands away from her, and you didn't. That's my girl, and no one dares to touch her like that. You better not think you can go on like this, and I hope this can be a reminder for you not to." And with that, Oscar throws another punch, hitting the guy in his eye. You slowly slip down the wall, still watching in shock as Oscar finishes him off by handing one more punch to him on his bloody jaw, before letting go of his collar, letting him fall to the floor, finishing with a yell, "The pain you're feeling right now is nothing compared to the pain you deserve!"

You watch as Jordan scampers up and, just like that, without even considering a fight, stumbles off, out of sight.

And then, everything hushed, Oscar turns, and his eyes meet yours. His hair is a little sweaty and messed up, falling over his forehead. For a moment, you see that remaining burning anger, but as soon as he takes you in, that vanishes, and is replace by the familiar warmth he seems to always look at you with.

And the moment your eyes lock, the tears start coming, and you break down.

Oscar is immediately by your side, pulling you into his arms, sitting on the floor next to you and holding you in his lap, gently stroking your hair. After a while, you hiccup, slowly leaning away, your body still shaking, and murmur, mopping up your eyes with your hands, "Os- Oscar... That was scary. I'm scared."

He gently takes your hand. "You don't have to be. I'm here. Are you ready to go home?"

You nod slowly, and Oscar helps you up, leading you out back to his car, his arm around your back protectively the entire time.

Once back in the car, as the events of what just happened replay through your head, you hiccup, more tears threatening to flow. Oscar gently takes your hand, murmuring in the dark of the parked car, "Tell me what I can do for you, and I'll do it. I hope you know I'll do anything for you to feel better."

You sigh shakily and just lean into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you for a few minutes, before you lean away again and murmur, "Let's just get home..."

Oscar nods. "Good idea." He turns the car on and begins driving, and as soon as he does holds his hand that he's not using to drive out to you. You put your hand in his, letting the warmth from it fill you and comfort you.

As he drives, you suddenly say in the empty silence, "'That's my girl.' That's what you said."

Oscar just nods a little. "I know. I did mean to say that, you know."

You swallow, thinking for a few moments, before murmuring the simple question, "Why?"

"Because you've always been mine and I've always been yours, haven't I?"

You swallow. "I don't know what that means."

"Forget what it means. You're the most important girl- the most important person- to me. You're my girl, and I'm not going to let anyone be messing with you."

That feels right to you, and good to you, to hear that. And you're glad, in a way, that he's so confidently figured that out. It frees you to say back, "Well, yeah, then... I guess that makes you my boy, then..."

Oscar smiles very softly, giving your hand a little squeeze as you arrive at his home. Once you're both inside, before you have a chance to start worrying, Oscar says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder, "I want you to be comfortable. What do you need? I could get you something to eat, run a bath for you, get a change of clothes, all three, whatever else you need-"

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it-"

"Hush," Oscar suddenly interrupts, shaking his head. He moves to stand right in front of you, before gazing down into your eyes, and saying in all sincerity, "Look, I want you to be honest. I want to take care of you if that's what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

You swallow, nodding a bit, before murmuring, "A bath and a change of clothes might be nice... I'm not hungry, though."

Oscar nods, putting his hand on your back, leading you to his room. He opens his closet and says, "You can wear whatever you can find. I'm going to go run that bath for you; I'll call you when it's ready. I'll get a towel for you in the bathroom, too."

You nod, find one of his bigger McLaren T-shirts and a pair of black sweatpants, and head to the bathroom just as Oscar is calling for you.

Oscar smiles at you gently when you walk in and say simply, "Anything else you need?"

You shake your head 'no,' saying, "Thank you."

He nods. "Of course. I'll just be in the living room, you can come there when you're done. Call me if you need anything. And take your time, too."

You smile weakly, nodding. "Alright. Thanks, Osc."

He nods, leaving you to have your bath. You peel off your clothes and sink into the water, feeling its warmth surround you like an embrace. You let out a long sigh of relief as the water touches your sore, tense muscles, soothing them. After the night you've had, it feels good to just be. To just experience something genuinely good and calming, knowing Oscar is just in the next room.

Oscar. The way he stood up for you, was so protective of you, and beyond that, has been taking such good care of you... You know Oscar a good man... He was always a really sweet boy, and he's grown up to be a really very upright and sweet man. It was crazy- crazy- to see him go off on that stranger, and beat him up the way he did.

But somehow, it felt right. It was just proving he's good. That he cares so much about and for you, he won't let anyone hurt you without knowing the consequences of it from him.

How much does he really care about me?

The question almost feels good to ask, because you have a feeling the answer is one you like.

And then the way he so confidently called you his girl.

'That's my girl.'

Just looking back on it, for some reason, it makes your heart skip a beat. It's that chest-tightening nervous affectionate feeling you get often when Oscar does or says little things. Although this time, it's not little, and every new thing he does seems to make your stomach flutter a little more. It's a familiar feeling that you're sure you've gotten hundreds of times before with Oscar, but for some reason, you're only realising it now. Why, you have no idea, and what the strange feelings could mean, you have even less of an idea.

Soon, you finish your bath, and after drying yourself put on Oscar soft, comfortable clothes, no matter how over sized they are on you. Besides, you don't care in the slightest about that as soon as you inhale his familiar, comforting scent when you put them on. You go to the living room and see Oscar laying on the couch on his phone, now in a T-shirt and sweatpants, just relaxing. As soon as you walk in, though, he looks up.

"Osc...? Do you have a brush I could use for my hair?"

He nods, hopping up from the couch, and says, "Yeah, I do. Wait here, I'll be right back. Just get yourself comfy."

He leaves, and you shrug, taking his advice, and curl up on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He takes longer than you expect him to, but soon enough, he walks back in and sits next to you, saying, "Why don't you just relax, and I can brush it for you?"

"Seriously? You don't have to," you say immediately, secretly wanting badly for him to brush your hair for you. You love the feeling of other people playing with your hair- and if it's Oscar, even better.

He smiles at you. "I know, but I want to." And with that, to both of your delight apparently, begins gently brushing through your hair. When he's done, he slowly start running his fingers through it, starting from the bottom and going up to the top. You sigh, leaning back into him, and Oscar just simply loves it. After a while he says, softly amused, "You just seem to melt when my hands are in your hair."

You shrug, smiling a little, and say, "What can I say? It feels really good."

He chuckles that low comforting chuckle that feels just like home. "I can tell." After a few more minutes he says, "I found a hair tie I think you must've left here at one point. Do want me to braid your hair or something?"

You smile, glancing back at him, and say, "You can do that? I don't know if I can trust you."

He just smiles back at you. "You should. I'm good at it. Remember, I grew up with three sisters."

You shrug again before saying, "Well, alright..."

He chuckles softly again, before he gently begins braiding your hair, his fingers gently weaving through your locks, slowly, until he finally finishes and ties it on the end. Once he's finished, you turn around to face him.

He smiles at you.

You smile back, taking his hands in both of yours.

"You're beautiful," he suddenly says, looking right into your eyes. "I don't think I've told you that enough. Because I think it all the time, whenever I look at you."

For some reason, your friend saying that makes you blush. There are a few moments of silence, before you look down at your joined hands and murmur, "Crazy that the hands that beat up that guy are the same hands that just gently braided my hair."

Oscar shrugs, smiling a little. "They have different uses in different moments. And I don't regret what I did for a moment, not any of it. I would do the exact same thing if I had to do it all again. In fact, just thinking about it makes me really angry. But what matters most is that you're okay."

You sigh slowly, nodding, your head a bit dizzy at the thought of it all. "I'm just so thankful for you, throughout it all. You, like, saved the day..." you chuckle wryly.

He shrugs, nodding a bit. "I guess." A little laugh.

More silence.

You stare down once more at your joined hands. "But Oscar..." you begin hesitantly.

"Yes?" he prompts gently.

"...I'm sorry."

"Y/n... for what? You did nothing wrong-!" Oscar begins somewhat incredulously.

"It's just... You were celebrating your win..."

"Oh, Y/n..." Oscar begins, his tone softening. "Come on, now. Look up at me, will you?"

You sigh, doing so.

"It's not your fault, what happened," Oscar says. "It's that idiot's fault, and we both know that. What happened happened, and there was no preventing it. And if you're worried about me, don't be. I had a perfectly good time celebrating in China with my team. This was more that I wanted to do something with you, for you. But look at this right now. Here we are, sitting together, anyway. Isn't that what matters the most anyway; isn't that the point? So why don't we just make the most of this moment, right now, hm?"

You sigh again, nodding slowly, before saying, you heart almost feeling like it's being squeezed, "Okay."

"Hey," Oscar murmurs, his hand touching the bottom of your chin. "You're looking down again. Talk to me." He gently raises your chin.

You swallow, and suddenly, words that you hardly knew you even thought start coming from your mouth, and only now as you hear them in your voice do they even begin to make sense: "I guess it's just that... You're so caring and gentle with me, and protective. And we like each other so much and get along so well and we've known each other for years and... I guess sometimes I wonder about us... You know, our relationship, like, what even is it? I mean, I think we'd both readily admit we most definitely love each other, but I guess... well, I don't know..."

Oscar nods slowly, before whispering, as if it's some long kept secret, "You guess you just wonder in what way we love each other?"

You swallow, nodding. "Well, yes, exactly. Because... well, I don't know."

"Can I tell you how I feel about you?"

You study his face for a few moments- his handsome face- and nod.

"I feel about you the most deep feeling I've ever known, deeper than I ever thought I could experience. The love I have for you is beyond anything I could describe in a physical sense- it's beyond a romantic love or and family love or the strongest kind of named love I could think of. All I know is that when I look at you, I see fulfillment, and happiness. I see everything I've ever needed, plus everything I've ever wanted. I see a priceless jewel- the sort of thing that anyone would honor and protect with their life. I see beauty herself, on the inside and out. I see my best friend, my favorite person, the one I would spend any and every moment with, if I could. I see comfort, I see love. I look at you and know the great lengths I would go for you. I know it's all so cliche, but it is a love beyond words. It is. I just..." he trails off, before leaning in and whispering, "Are you crying?"

You sniff, looking away, your heart pounding. "No..."

He smiles gently, his hand leaving yours to reach up and wipe a tear away off your cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

"That's just so... sweet... and... everything I exactly feel, too, put into words..."

"Y/n..." he hums gently with a little chuckle. "I don't want you to cry, though."

"Don't worry," you say with a little hiccupy laugh. "They're good tears."

He smiles a bit, grabbing your hand again and giving it a squeeze. "Okay."

You swallow, before daring to ask, "What would the difference be, if you were my boyfriend instead of my best friend?"

Oscar eyes seem to light slightly at the question, and he says simply, "Nothing at all, except for one thing: we would be able to express that deep love for each other in different ways."

You nod slowly, swallowing.

Oscar leans in closer to you. "How does that sound to you?"

"I... I think it could be just what I need."

Oscar smiles softly. "I mean, I feel like... it would be nice to not just have to use my words to tell you how much I love you. You know, to be able to kiss you, or something, instead."

You find yourself smile a little at the words, nodding as pinkness gets to your cheeks. "Yeah... that doesn't sound so bad."

Oscar smiles, just gazing into your eyes. "Yeah?"

"It's just that... with tonight, with what happened..."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning we had to do anything tonight- just to think about. You know...?"

You nod slowly, before muttering, "But maybe... Just maybe tonight is the night to do it." You pause, before continuing, "You know, with all that happened, maybe if we just decided... tonight, let's just take a little step... it would help me to leave that. You know, it wasn't my fault... and I have someone who really does love me."

Oscar smiles. "And I really do."

You smile back, looking back up into his sweet brown eyes.

He slips his hand out of yours and gently brings it to your cheek, muttering, "Well, is it okay if I kiss you? Just a little kiss?"

You smile wider, feeling your stomach flutter at the sincere question. Nodding, you reply, "Yes, I reckon that is okay."

Oscar nods, his thumb stroking your cheek a bit as he leans in, his other hand gently touching your waist. His hand on your cheek shifts to cup the side of your neck, and he whispers, his warm breath on your ear, "You still okay?"

You nod.

And with that, he leans in, and, pulling you closer to himself, kisses you in the most perfect way. His adoration and love for you flows through the kiss, while still keeping it short and gentle. When he leans away, he whispers, "How was that?" with a little adorable smile.

You just sigh shakily and murmur, "I think you should do it again."

And he does without a second more of hesitation. His lips meet yours as he pulls your body closer to himself, lost in the kiss, lost in his emotions. When he pulls away again, he's pulled you onto his lap, but neither of you seem to care, both too swept up in each other's gazing eyes.

"I didn't realize for how long I needed to do that..." he whispers gently.

You smile a little. "I didn't realize how long I needed that from you."

He smiles back. "We'll call that both of our first kisses, okay?"

You nod. "Does this mean I'm your girlfriend now?"

"I like the sound of that."

You smile and throw your arms around him in an embrace. He pulls you closer to him, leaning back so that you can lay your head on him, and rubs your back, whispering, "I love you so much, Y/n. So, so much. To the moon and the stars and all the way back."

You smile up at him. "I don't know about the moon and the stars for me Oscar, but I'll tell you this: I love you enough to want to spend my life with you. I love you enough to want to grow old with you."

At those words, Oscar's arms tighten around you, and he chuckles, "See how sappy we suddenly get as soon as we decide to just give it up and kiss? My God."

You grin into his chest. "Yeahhh... But I don't mind it."

"Oh, trust me, I don't either." He shifts, moving you with him, making you both comfortable, so that you're laying together, cuddling.

"I really like this."

He hums. "Me too."

"You know we'll never hear the end of it from Lando if he finds out."

You feel the vibration of his laugh in his chest. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's just relax. I just want to be. Be with you."

"I think that sounds like exactly what I was made for. To be with you."

He smiles, and you shut your eyes, content to listen to his heartbeat and just be.

Just be with him.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Just to Learn That You Never Cared

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

requested/idea by @usoppsstar

Masterlist

“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.

“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.

Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.

“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.

“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.

“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”

“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.

“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”

“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.

“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”

“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”

“Oh, I love that place.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“

Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.

“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.

“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.

“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.

“I love you too.” Peter sighed.

“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.

“No.” Peter quickly lied.

“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.

The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.

“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.

“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”

“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.

“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.

“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“We can.” Carly mumbled.

“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.

“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”

“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”

“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”

“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.

“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.

“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.

“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.

“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“

“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”

“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.

“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.

“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“

“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.

“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”

“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”

“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.

“Huh?” You said louder.

“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.

“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”

“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.

“So you didn’t know about this either?”

“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.

“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.

“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.

“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.

“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.

“What?”

“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”

“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.

“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”

“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”

“Why would we do that?”

“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”

“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”

“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.

“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.

“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.

“No.” He admitted.

The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.

“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.

“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.

“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.

“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.

“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.

“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”

“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”

“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.

“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.

“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.

“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.

You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.

“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.

“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”

“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.

“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.

“What?” You asked him.

“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.

“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.

“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.

“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.

“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”

He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.

“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.

“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.

“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”

Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.

“What?” You asked him.

“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.

“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.

“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”

“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.

“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.

“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”

“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”

“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”

You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.

“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.

“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.

“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.

“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”

“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.

“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”

You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.

That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.

“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.

“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.

“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.

“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.

“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.

“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.

“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.

“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.

“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.

“blue”

“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.

“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.

“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.

“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.

“if ur the Chase then who am I?”

“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.

“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.

“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.

“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.

“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.

“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”

“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.

“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”

“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.

“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.

“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.

“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.

“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.

“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.

“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.

“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.

“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.

“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.

“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.

“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.

“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.

“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”

“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.

“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.

“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.

“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”

“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.

“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.

“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”

“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.

“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”

“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.

“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.

“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.

The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.

“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”

“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”

“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”

“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”

“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”

“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.

“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.

“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.

“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“

“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.

Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.

“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.

“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.

“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.

“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.

“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.

“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.

“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.

“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.

“Like what?” Peter gulped.

“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”

“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.

“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”

“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.

“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.

“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.

“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.

“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.

“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.

“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.

“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.

“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.

“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.

“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“

“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.

“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.

“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.

“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”

“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.

“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.

“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“

“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”

Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.

“Peter-“

“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”

“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.

“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.

“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”

“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”

“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”

“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”

“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”

“It was all I had.” You shrugged.

“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”

“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”

“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.

“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.

“Sit back down.” You told him.

“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.

“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”

“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”

“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.

“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.

“Or we could do your thing.”

Tag List 🏷️

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[diremoone]

it’s just a scratch! (it isn’t) | sylus.

a/n:: apparently receiving a head injury leaves plot bunnies behind too lol [ sylus fluff ;; tis mildly selfship coded ;; i whipped this drabble up in about an hour haha ]

Sylus watches you pause as you lift the mug to the cabinet. Your brows furrow and proceed to slowly spin the mug around curiously.

“Sylus?” You halfway turn to him to look from your peripheral.

He glances up and replies, “Yes?”

“What am I doing?”

“Unloading your dishwasher, I believe.”

A pause, then a small, “Oh,” escapes your lips. Then you put the mug up and close the dishwasher. He’d finish it for you later.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks, eyes glancing up at you from the book in his hands.

“About the same… Uhm…” You space out, staring at the TV for a good ten seconds before coming back to reality. “Maybe more dumb than usual.”

Sylus chuckles. “You’re not dumb. You just sustained a head injury.”

“Which has made me feel dumber,” you point out.

“Which is why I’m here,” he adds.

“To tell me I’m dumb?”

He scoffs in disbelief and closes his book as he remarks, “To make sure you don’t smack your head into anything else while you’re recovering and on leave, sweetheart.”

You feel the fluster creep to your shoulders and your cheeks at the nickname, ducking your head down bashfully.

Sweetie, when he’s teasing. Sweetheart, when he’s being soft and caring. You often hear more of the latter nowadays.

“It’s just for a few days. My symptoms should clear up come the day I go back for a checkup,” you grumble. “And it wasn’t even that bad. My elbow took the brunt of it.”

“I’m aware of all that. And until then, I’ll be sticking around to make sure you’re okay, kitten.”

But the cute moment ends when you cuss profusely, hands flying to your head in the spot where you’d gotten hit. Sharp pains crawl down from the spot, nearly debilitating and making you hunch over.

You faintly register something hitting the couch, followed by large hands guiding you by your shoulder and waist to sit down.

Sylus doesn’t like the way your body rocks in his hold, head bobbing up and down while your eyes are screwed shut from the pain, hissing when it flares. He takes his hand and gently cradles the back of your head, pulling you to his shoulder to find rest. If you had been standing, he’s sure he would’ve had to catch you before you hit the ground.

Thirty seconds in total pass before the pain in your head finally dies down. You still feel a tingle, but don’t mention it.

You inhale, then speak softly, “It passed.”

It takes a few seconds for Sylus to reply. “That was the worst one yet.”

“That you’ve seen,” you try and joke. But the grumble of dissatisfaction tells you he’s anything but amused. In fact, you might’ve just put him in a worse mood.

“I guess that means I’ll be staying over for quite some time, even after your next doctor’s visit.”

You lift your head from his shoulder and stare pointedly. “Sylus, no.”

“What? You don’t like my company?”

“It’s just not necessary for you to stay and watch me. I’m a big girl,” you argue.

“A big girl with a head injury,” he “corrects” you with a grin. “And don’t worry about your little friends. I’ll disappear for awhile when they decide to come over.”

You sigh in defeat. “You’re making my head hurt.”

“Then stop arguing, kitten.” And then Sylus’s voice drops an octave, expression changing from cheeky to concerned. “Let me take care of you. Your head meeting that table after that giant Wanderer tossed you wasn’t pretty to watch, you know.”

This time, you finally hear him, and he sees it.

You know where this is coming from. You know this comes from whatever past you two had together that you can’t remember (but apparently Sylus does) for the life of you. His concern for you is always genuine, you know this. Underneath every layer of teasing and cheekiness, you know Sylus means it when he says he wants to take care of you. And you can only imagine what you must’ve looked like getting tossed like a ragdoll by that Wanderer you’d fought.

You sure as hell know what your head feels like.

“Alright, you win.” You shift yourself onto his lap, getting cozy and laying your head back on his shoulder and closing your eyes. “Just make sure to jet when my friends come over. The last thing I need is a tremendous headache about how the leader of Onychinus is in my living room tending to me.”

He chuckles, then presses a long, sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Deal.”

[the-offside-rule]

Patricio O'Ward (Arrow McLaren) - Taste Of Home

Requested: yes

Prompt: Y/n is the youngest Leclerc and is missing home so Pato brings home to her

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Y/n sighed as she leaned back on the couch in the house she now shared with her boyfriend, Pato. It had been an exciting move, leaving behind her life in Monaco to support Pato in his IndyCar career, but tonight, the homesickness gnawed at her more than usual. The city was bustling, yet felt so different from the cozy streets of Monte Carlo, and she missed the warmth of home, the chatter of her brothers, and the comfort of her mother’s cooking. Pato turned his attention away from the TV as he heard his girlfriend moving beside him, noticing the way she was staring blankly at her laptop, her mind far away.

“You okay, mi amor?” Pato asked, his hand strokingher knee. His dark eyes were full of concern. “Yeah, I’m fine." Y/n smiled softly, though her tone betrayed her. "Just missing home tonight, I guess." Pato shifted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "What do you miss most? Besides Charles making fun of you?" Y/n chuckled at that, leaning her head on Pato's shoulder. “Everything, really. Charles, Lorenzo, Arthur. My mom's carbonara, and just being surrounded by family. It was weird being the youngest sometimes, but they always made me feel you know, like I belonged.” Pato's soft smile turned to a flat line, thinking of what he could do.

“Tell me a story,” Pato suggested, wanting to cheer her up. “About you and your brothers.” She thought for a moment, her face softening as memories surfaced. “Okay, I’ve got one. So, when I was about seven, Charles and Arthur thought it’d be funny to teach me how to ride a bike. But they didn’t tell me how to brake properly." Pato laughed. "That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

“Oh, it was." Y/n nodded with a smile. "I rode straight into our neighbor’s garden and crashed into her rose bushes. I was crying, covered in thorns, and instead of comforting me, Charles was laughing so hard he was practically rolling on the floor. Arthur was trying to hide so he wouldn’t get in trouble. But Lorenzo, being the responsible big brother, came and pulled me out of the bushes, all while giving Charles and Arthur a lecture.” Pato shook his head with a grin. “So Charles was always a troublemaker?”

“Always.” Y/n confirmed with a fond laugh. “But he had his moments where he was sweet too. He’s protective, you know? When I went to my first school dance, he grilled the poor boy who asked me to be his date. Charles practically had the poor guy sweating.” Pato laughed louder this time. "Yeah, that sounds like him. Protective older brother mode.” Y/n had loosened up a bit, reminiscing on the past she had in Monaco. “Yep. And Arthur’s no better. Honestly, they all think I need constant watching.” Y/n yawned softly, her tiredness creeping in after a long day at university. “I miss them, though.”

“I know you do.” Pato said, kissing her temple softly. "You should get some rest. It's been a long day, amor." Y/n looked at the time on her laptop. "Yeah, I think I will.” Y/n stood up, stretching. “I’ll head to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.” Pato smiled as she leaned down and placed a delicate kiss onto his lips. “Goodnight, mi amor. I love you.”

“Love you too, Pato.” Y/n smiled before turning and heading for the stairs. As soon as the door closed, Pato pulled out his phone, an idea sparking in his mind. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Charles’ number and sent a message.

Pato Hey man, quick question. Y/n’s feeling really homesick tonight and I was thinking… can you send me your family’s carbonara recipe? I want to surprise her tomorrow.

Pato stared at his phone, unsure if Charles would respond quickly. But within moments, his screen lit up with a reply.

Charles Hey, mate. Of course, I’ll send it over. You trying to impress my sister with your cooking? ���

Pato Haha, yeah, something like that. She told me she misses your mom’s carbonara, so I thought it might help.

Charles Give me a second, I’ll write it down for you.

A minute later, Charles sent over a series of detailed instructions, with a few extra tips for making sure the dish turned out just right. Pato read through the messages carefully, determined to get it perfect.

Charles And don’t overcook the pasta! I swear, if you serve it mushy, Y/n will never let you live it down.

Pato Haha, I’ll do my best. Thanks, man.

With the recipe in hand, Pato felt a surge of excitement. He could picture Y/n’s face lighting up when she came home to find a taste of Monaco waiting for her.

The next day, after Y/n left for her morning classes, Pato got to work. He drove to the store, carefully selecting only the best ingredients for the pasta dish. He came home, cleaned up a bit and set to work cooking. No one said it would be easy and it certainly wasn't for such a simple dish. He followed Charles’ recipe to the letter, carefully whisking the eggs and cheese together, cooking the pancetta until it was crisp, and boiling the pasta to al dente perfection. His kitchen was soon filled with the comforting smell of home-cooked food, and he couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for pulling it off. Pato had managed to spill sowm egg here and there, a bit of sliced guanciale on the floor (nothing Norbi couldn't help with), but he got there. He had done it. He had to admit, he ate a bowl or two whilst waiting for Y/n to get back.

Just as he was plating the carbonara, he heard the front door open. Y/n walked in, looking exhausted but surprised when she caught the scent wafting through the apartment. “Oh that smells delicious! Pato, what are you cooking?” She asked, setting her bag down. Pato turned to her with a grin, holding up two plates of the golden, creamy pasta. “Surprise! I made your family’s carbonara.” Her eyes widened, and her heart melted instantly. “You what?”

“I called Charles and got the recipe,” Pato explained, walking over to hand her a plate. “I know you’ve been homesick, and I wanted to bring a little bit of home here for you.” Y/n stared at him, her eyes soft with emotion. “Pato this is amazing. You didn’t have to do all this.” She smiled, her hand caressing his cheek. “I wanted to,” Pato said, his voice gentle. “You mean the world to me, Y/n. I want you to feel at home, even here.” She smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and took a bite. “This is perfect,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “It tastes just like home.” Pato sat down beside her, watching as she ate with a soft smile. “I’m glad you like it.” Y/n leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” Pato whispered, feeling a wave of warmth and contentment wash over him. He’d brought a piece of Monaco to Miami, and in that moment, it felt like home; because Y/n was with him.

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by doomsday, lizzy mcalpine , true blue, boygenius , cool about it, boygenius !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

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[scarletwinterxx]

Every second from now I'm gonna love you completely - dad jaehyun scenario

helloooo ~ maybe i've been missing jaehyun a bit more these past few days so i wrote this. if you're new here or been here for a while🤣 my first ever series i wrote was a dad jaehyun au, it's like my first born. when i wrote that i was still trying to find my writing style, all i know was i wanted to write it. so excuse my mistakes there haha but in case you haven't read it or want to re-read it, click here !!

sooo yea, i have a few more stories lined up. thank you all sooooo much for the love🤍

my x acc - niniramyeonie 😊💛

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025. Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re sitting on the couch, flipping through a book, when Jaeyoon, your husband’s carbon copy, plops down beside you with a loud sigh.

You glance at him. “What’s up, baby?”

Jaeyoon props his chin on his hands. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

You smile knowingly. “You’re always asking me something, Jaeyoon.”

He grins, then immediately launches into his first question. “If a fish gets thirsty, does it drink water?”

You blink. “Uh… technically, yes. But freshwater fish absorb water through their skin, and saltwater fish drink water through their mouths.”

Jaeyoon’s eyes widen. “Woah. So fishes are just drinking and absorbing all the time?”

You chuckle. “Pretty much.”

He nods like he’s processing something groundbreaking. Then—“Okay, next question.”

You raise an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Do clouds get tired from floating all day?”

You stare at him for a second before bursting into laughter. “Jaeyoon, where do you come up with these?”

Jaeyoon shrugs, completely serious. “I just think about them.”

You shake your head, pulling him into your arms. Your once little newborn now here having the most random conversions with but you won’t have it any other way.

“You have the biggest brain.” you mumble against his hair

Jaeyoon grins, cuddling into your side. “And I have one more question.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Last one?”

“Last one,” he promises. Then, looking up at you with those big, curious eyes, he asks

“Why do you love me so much?”

Your heart melts on the spot. You hug him even tighter, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Because you’re you, Jaeyoon. You and your sister is my heart beating outside my chest, you’re the best parts of mom and dad”

Jaeyoon sighs happily, snuggling closer. “That’s a good answer, Mom”

You smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He yawns. “Okay, I’m done asking for now.”

You smirk, stroking his hair. “For now?”

But Jaeyoon doesn’t answer—he’s already drifting off, safe and warm in your arms. And you know that tomorrow, and every day after that, there will be a million more questions.

A few hours later, the sky is darker outside. Jaehyun is sitting in his home office, fingers gliding over his laptop keyboard as he reviews a contract. It’s the weekend but he’s trying to catch up on some work after taking a family vacation. The room is quiet except for the occasional clicking of his mouse—until the door swings open without a knock.

Jaeyoon, his youngest who is now 5, marches in “Appa, what are you doing?”

Jaehyun doesn’t even look up. “Working.”

The little man who looks just like him pads closer, tilting his head. “What kind of working?”

Jaehyun sighs, glancing at his mini me. It’s like whenever he looks at his son he sees himself, something you always say is unfair but still love completely

“CEO work.”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically. “Woah. That sounds so important.”

“It is.” he chuckles at his son’s amusement at such a mundane adult thing. 

Instead of leaving, Jaeyoon clambers onto Jaehyun’s lap, making himself very comfortable. Jaehyun automatically moves his arm to keep the documents from getting messed up, but he doesn’t protest.

Jaeyoon peers at the screen. “What’s that?”

“A contract.”

“What’s a contract?”

“A business agreement.”

“What’s an agreement?”

Jaehyun sighs through a chuckle. “When two people decide on something together.”

Jaeyoon nods like that makes total sense. Then, after a beat he speaks again “Can I type?”

Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow. “Depends. Are you going to send my company into chaos?”

Jaeyoon beams. “Maybe!”

Jaehyun shakes his head but moves his laptop slightly so Jaeyoon can reach the keyboard. “Okay, go ahead.”

Jaeyoon excitedly taps a few random letters: hgfldj.

“Wow,” Jaehyun says, nodding seriously. “That’s some next-level business strategy.”

Jaeyoon grins. “I’m a CEO too now.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun leans back. “What’s your company called?”

Jaeyoon thinks for a moment, then dramatically announces, “Jaeyoon’s Snack Empire!”

Jaehyun laughs. “Sounds like a profitable business.”

“Yep. We sell ice cream, barbecue and cookies.”

“Smart.” Jaehyun grins. “I’d invest.”

Jaeyoon gasps. “Really?”

“But I want 50% of the company.”

Jaeyoon narrows his eyes. “Appa, that’s too much!”

Jaehyun smirks “Negotiation. That’s part of being a CEO too.”

Jaeyoon groans dramatically, sliding off Jaehyun’s lap and climbing onto his desk instead. “This is so hard.”

Jaehyun just chuckles, adjusting his laptop. “Welcome to my world, buddy.”

Jaeyoon sighs but doesn’t leave, now playing with a paperweight on the desk. Jaehyun lets him, continuing to work as his little boy fidgets and chats about everything. And even though Jaehyun is busy, he doesn’t mind at all because no matter how important his work is—his little CEO-in-training will always be more important.

Chaeyoon bursts through the front door, kicking off her sneakers without much care. Her backpack slides off her shoulder as she yells, “Mom! You won’t believe what happened today!”

You glance up from the kitchen counter, where you’re slicing fruit for Jaeyoon’s afternoon snack. Your five-year-old son is sitting on a stool, swinging his legs while munching on a cookie.

“What happened, sweetheart?” you ask, wiping your hands on a towel.

Chaeyoon drops her backpack with a thud, walking over with wide eyes, as if she’s about to share the most shocking news of the year. “A boy—Mom, a boy—asked me to get ice cream with him after school.”

You blink, taking a second to process. “Oh?”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically beside you. “Noona, are you getting married?!”

Chaeyoon groans. “Jaeyoon, no! It’s just ice cream!”

You bite back a smile, setting the knife down. “So, who is this boy?” you ask, keeping your tone light

Chaeyoon sighs, pushing her hair back. “His name is Minho. He’s in my class. We sit next to each other in science, and I guess we’re kinda friends?” She pauses, then adds, “But I didn’t say yes yet.”

“Why not?” you ask curiously.

She frowns. “I dunno. It felt... weird?”

Jaeyoon leans closer, eyes shining. “Did he say you’re pretty?”

Chaeyoon glares at him. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

You chuckle, running a hand through her hair despite her protests. “Well, I think it’s sweet that he asked. Do you want to go?”

She hesitates. “Maybe? But also... I don’t know what Dad would say.”

Ah. There it is.

Jaehyun, your loving but sometimes very overprotective husband, has always been a little sensitive when it comes to his little girl growing up.

And you can already imagine his reaction.

You smile, wiping your hands on a dish towel as you watch your daughter shift nervously. “Well,” you say casually, “if you want to go, then you can tell your dad. I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

Chaeyoon’s eyes widen in pure betrayal. “Mom!”

Jaeyoon giggles beside you. “Appa is gonna explode!”

You laugh, ruffling your son’s hair before turning back to Chaeyoon. “Sweetheart, your dad never says no to you. If you tell him, I bet he’ll—” you pause, thinking of Jaehyun’s usual soft spot for his kids, “—well, I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

The truth is, even you aren’t entirely sure how Jaehyun will react to this one. He can’t say no when Chaeyoon asks for another bedtime story or when Jaeyoon wants to sleep in your bed after a nightmare. He folds instantly when they give him their puppy-dog eyes.

But this? His little girl being asked out for ice cream by a boy? This might be the one thing that actually shakes him.

Chaeyoon huffs, crossing her arms. “You just want to see what he says.”

You grin, leaning on the counter. “Maybe a little.”

Jaeyoon claps excitedly. “I wanna tell Appa! I wanna see his face!”

Chaeyoon groans, but she’s laughing, too. “I should just say no and avoid this whole thing.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what you want?”

She hesitates, then sighs. “No. I think I wanna go.”

“Then you should tell your dad,” you say simply, enjoying this way more than you should

Just as you say that, the front door opens, and Jaehyun walks in, loosening his tie with one hand. “I’m home,” he calls out, his voice warm but tired from the workday.

Jaeyoon immediately jumps down from his stool and runs to him. “Appa! Noona has big news!”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Chaeyoon groans again. “Jaeyoon!”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of them before his eyes land on you. “Big news?” he repeats, stepping further inside.

You give Chaeyoon a small smile. “Go on, sweetheart. Tell him.”

And as she shifts nervously, you watch Jaehyun. He’s completely unaware that his world is about to be shaken.

Jaehyun’s brows furrow slightly as he looks at Chaeyoon. “What’s going on?”

Chaeyoon groans, shifting on her feet. “Ugh, this is so embarrassing…” She glances at you for help, but you simply smile and motion for her to go on.

Jaeyoon, impatient as ever, blurts out, “A boy asked Noona to eat ice cream with him!”

Silence.

Jaehyun blinks. Once. Twice.

Then, very slowly, he turns to Chaeyoon. “What?”

Chaeyoon groans again, covering her face. “Ugh, I knew this was going to be a thing.”

Jaehyun stays completely still, processing. You watch as his jaw tenses ever so slightly, and you swear you see his fingers twitch like he’s fighting the urge to tighten his tie again. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying this.

Jaehyun clears his throat. “So… a boy.”

Chaeyoon nods reluctantly.

Jaehyun continues, “And he asked you to get ice cream?”

Another slow nod. Jaehyun blinks again, still looking like his brain is buffering. Then, he shifts his gaze to you, as if asking for backup.

You shrug innocently. “I told her if she wants to go, she should ask you.”

His eyes narrow slightly. He knows exactly what you’re doing.

Jaeyoon tugs at Jaehyun’s sleeve. “Appa, are you okay? Your face looks weird.”

Jaehyun exhales slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. Then, after a long pause, he looks at Chaeyoon again. “Who is this boy?”

“Minho,” she mutters.

“Minho,” Jaehyun repeats, like he’s committing the name to memory for later investigation. “How old is he?”

“He’s in my class, Dad.”

Jaehyun nods, still processing. Then, in a very calm but very careful voice, he asks, “And why does he want to take you out for ice cream?”

Chaeyoon shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe because we’re friends? And he likes ice cream?”

Jaehyun exhales again, then finally looks at you. Help me, his eyes plead.

But you just smile sweetly. “So? Can she go?”

His lips part like he wants to say no. You know he wants to say no. But this is Chaeyoon, his baby girl. The same baby girl who used to sit on his lap and call him her prince. The same one who still kisses his cheek before bed. And as much as he wants to protest, Jaehyun has never been able to say no to her.

He sighs, finally dropping his shoulders. “Is he coming here?”

Chaeyoon shakes her head. “We were just gonna meet there after school.”

Jaehyun nods slowly. “Fine. But—” he raises a finger, his CEO voice slipping through, “—I want to meet him first.”

Chaeyoon groans but smiles. “I knew you were gonna say that.”

Jaeyoon pumps his fists. “Noona’s going on a date!”

“It’s not a date!”

Jaehyun mutters under his breath, “It better not be.”

And as you watch him struggle between being a protective dad and trying to respect Chaeyoon’s growing independence, you can’t help but laugh.

Jaehyun shoots you a look. “You set me up.”

You grin. “Maybe a little.”

Later that night, after the kids are asleep, you and Jaehyun finally crawl into bed. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the walls.

Jaehyun lets out a deep sigh as he sinks into the mattress, rubbing a hand down his face. “Today was… a lot.”

You chuckle, turning to your side to face him. “Oh, you mean finding out your baby girl is growing up and might actually hang out with a boy?”

Jaehyun groans dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh, scooting closer and resting your head against his shoulder. “You survived.”

“Barely,” he mutters.

You trail a finger along his arm, feeling the tension still lingering in his muscles. “You know, you are going to have to deal with this eventually. She’s not always going to be your little girl.”

Jaehyun removes his arm from his face, turning his head to look at you. “She’ll always be my little girl.”

You smile softly. “I know, but she’s also getting older. And you can’t scare away every boy who looks at her.”

He smirks. “Wanna bet?”

You laugh, swatting at his arm. “Jae”

He sighs again, rolling onto his side so he’s facing you. “I just… I know she’s smart, and I trust her. But the thought of some boy liking her—of her liking him back—it makes me insane.”

You gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Because you don’t want to let her go.”

Jaehyun exhales, his eyes softening. “Yeah.”

You press a kiss to his forehead. “You don’t have to. She’ll always need you, just in different ways.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “You always know what to say.”

You grin. “That’s why you married me.”

Jaehyun chuckles, his grip tightening slightly. “One day, some boy is going to look at Chaeyoon the way I look at you.”

Your heart warms at his words, but you also see the slight panic in his eyes. You press your palm against his cheek, making him meet your gaze. “And when that day comes, you’ll be okay. Because you’ve shown her what real love looks like.”

He stares at you for a moment before exhaling and burying his face in your neck. “You’re too good at this.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I just know my husband.”

Jaehyun hums against your skin. “Remind me to keep Jaeyoon small forever. I can’t handle two of them growing up.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Good luck with that.”

He tightens his hold around you, as if holding onto this moment—onto you, onto the family you’ve built together. And even though you know he’ll always be a little overprotective, a little reluctant to let go, you also know that no matter what, Jaehyun will always, always be the best dad to your kids.

You’re still wrapped up in Jaehyun’s arms, the warmth of his body keeping you perfectly comfortable, when you suddenly feel something or someone climbing onto the bed.

A small hand pats your cheek. “Mom.”

You groan softly, burying your face into Jaehyun’s chest. “Mm… too early, baby.”

Jaeyoon isn’t deterred. He pats your cheek again, more insistent this time. “Mom. Appa.”

Jaehyun grumbles lowly, his grip on you tightening as he tries to stay asleep. “Five more minutes, buddy.”

Jaeyoon ignores him completely. “Noona is going on a date today.”

Both you and Jaehyun immediately open your eyes.

Jaehyun sits up so fast that Jaeyoon nearly topples over. “It’s not a date!” he says, voice still groggy but fully alert now.

Jaeyoon giggles, climbing onto his lap. “But Appa, they’re getting ice cream.”

Jaehyun exhales, running a hand down his face. “Why does this feel worse when you say it like that?”

You stifle a laugh, sitting up as well. “Sweetheart, did you come in here just to remind us?”

Jaeyoon nods enthusiastically. “Uh-huh. And also because I’m hungry.”

Jaehyun groans, flopping back onto the bed. “This family is going to be the death of me.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning to Jaeyoon. “Alright, let’s get you some breakfast.”

Jaeyoon claps happily and slides off the bed. But before he leaves, he turns to Jaehyun with a mischievous grin. “Appa, what if Noona kisses Minho?”

Jaehyun sits up again. “That’s not happening!”

Jaeyoon giggles and sprints out of the room before Jaehyun can say anything else.

You shake your head, laughing as you reach for Jaehyun’s hand. “You okay, babe?”

He groans, throwing himself back onto the pillows. “No. I need coffee. And maybe therapy.”

You chuckle, tugging him up. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get through today first.”

Jaehyun sighs dramatically, but when he looks at you, there’s warmth in his eyes. “Only because you’re here.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “Always.”

Later after school, you’re in the living room with Jaeyoon who’s sprawled out on the floor, coloring in his favorite book. He hums a little tune as he draws, completely unbothered by the fact that his Noona isn’t home yet.

You, on the other hand, are very aware of the time. Not because you’re worried but because you know who will be. Right on cue, the front door opens. Jaehyun steps inside, immediately loosening his tie and checking his watch. Again.

You don’t even get the chance to greet him before he says, “What time did you say Chaeyoon was coming home?”

You smirk. “I didn’t say.”

Jaehyun lets out a long sigh, kicking off his shoes. “It’s already past five.”

Jaeyoon looks up from his coloring. “Appa, you checked your watch like a hundred times.”

Jaehyun ignores him, turning to you instead. “Have you heard from her?”

You shake your head, amused. “She texted when she left school. She’s probably still with Minho.”

Jaehyun visibly clenches his jaw. “Still?”

You chuckle, patting the couch beside you. “Babe, relax.”

Jaehyun does not relax. Instead, he pulls out his phone, scrolling as if that will somehow make Chaeyoon text faster. “I should’ve picked her up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And then what? Sat between them at the ice cream shop?”

Jaeyoon bursts into giggles. “Appa would’ve stared at Minho like this.” He scrunches up his face, narrowing his eyes into an intense glare.

You laugh. “That’s exactly how he’d look.”

Jaehyun groans, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t funny.”

You reach over, tugging him down to sit beside you. “It’s a little funny.”

Jaehyun grumbles but lets you pull him close. He leans back against the couch, checking his watch again.

“She’ll be home soon,” you assure him. “And when she gets here, you can interrogate her all you want.”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically. “Appa’s gonna use his CEO voice!”

Jaehyun huffs. “I am not.”

Jaeyoon grins. “Are too.”

Jaehyun doesn’t argue because maybe he is. Just a little. Just as Jaehyun is admiring Jaeyoon’s latest masterpiece, a crayon drawing of your family with an extra large version of himself. There’s the sound of the front door unlocking.

Jaehyun immediately checks his watch again.

You smirk. “See? She’s home at a perfectly reasonable time.” Jaehyun doesn’t respond. Instead, he stands up, crosses his arms, and waits.

Chaeyoon steps inside, setting her backpack down before kicking off her shoes. “I’m home!” she calls out casually.

Jaeyoon runs up to her, arms flailing. “Noona! Did you have your date?”

Chaeyoon groans. “It wasn’t a date, Jaeyoon.”

Jaehyun clears his throat. Loudly. Chaeyoon turns her head and there’s her dad. Standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, looking exactly how she expected him to.

She sighs, dragging her feet toward the couch. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Get what over with?”

“The interrogation.” She plops onto the couch, throwing her arms over the backrest. “Go ahead, Appa. Ask your many questions.”

Jaehyun doesn’t waste a second. “How long have you known him?”

“Like a year, we’re classmates”

“Why haven’t I heard about him before?”

She sighs. “Because you’re like this.”

Jaehyun ignores that. “Does he have good grades?”

Chaeyoon blinks. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I need to know if he’s responsible.”

Chaeyoon groans. “Yes, Appa, he has good grades.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. “What did you talk about?”

“Ice cream. School. Normal stuff.”

“Did he—” Jaehyun’s expression turns even more serious. “—hold the door for you?”

Chaeyoon stares. “…Yes?”

Jaehyun exhales, nodding slowly. “Okay. That’s a start.”

You shake your head, fully entertained by this. Jaeyoon climbs onto the couch beside Chaeyoon. “Did you hold hands?”

Jaehyun immediately looks at her.

Chaeyoon gags. “EW. No.”

Jaehyun nods approvingly. “Good.”

Chaeyoon groans again. “Ugh, Appa, you’re so dramatic. It was just ice cream.”

Jaehyun eyes her for a moment before finally sighing, sitting down beside her. His posture softens a little. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Chaeyoon leans against him with a small smile. “I know. And I promise, Minho is just a friend.”

Jaehyun lets out another deep breath, wrapping an arm around her. “Okay. But next time, I want to meet him.”

Chaeyoon pulls away, eyes wide. “Appa. No.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “I need to make sure he understands that you have a very intimidating father.”

Chaeyoon groans dramatically, flopping onto the couch. “You’re impossible.”

Jaeyoon grins, climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap. “Appa, when I get a girlfriend, you can meet her, okay?”

Jaehyun blinks. “What?”

You burst out laughing as Jaehyun looks like he’s about to have an entire crisis.

Chaeyoon smirks. “Yeah, Appa. You have two kids to worry about.”

Jaehyun groans, rubbing his temples. “I need another coffee.”

And as the kids giggle, and you lean into him with an affectionate smile, you realize you wouldn’t trade this chaotic, loving family for anything.

The call from Jaeyoon’s school comes in the middle of the afternoon. You answer, and the moment you hear the words "Jaeyoon had a little accident during an activity," your heart skips a beat. The teacher quickly reassures you that he’s okay ust a scraped knee and a little bump but you’re already grabbing your bag.

Jaehyun, who had just gotten home early from a meeting, notices the shift in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You exhale. “Jaeyoon tripped at school. He’s hurt, but they said it’s not too bad.”

Jaehyun’s face hardens. “Let’s go.”

Within minutes, the two of you are in the car, driving to the school. Jaehyun grips the steering wheel tightly, jaw clenched. He doesn’t say much, but you can tell his mind is racing.

When you arrive at the nurse’s office, Jaeyoon is sitting on the little cot, his legs swinging as he stares down at his bandaged knee. His face is scrunched up in frustration. The moment he sees the both of you, his lips press together in a thin line, and he immediately sits up straighter.

“Hey, buddy,” Jaehyun says softly, crouching down to his level. “What happened?”

Jaeyoon crosses his arms. “I tripped during the race.” His voice is a little wobbly, but he clears his throat, blinking rapidly. “But I’m okay. I didn’t cry.”

You exchange a glance with Jaehyun before sitting beside Jaeyoon. “It’s okay if you want to, sweetheart.”

Jaeyoon shakes his head stubbornly. “Big boys don’t cry.”

Jaehyun sighs, reaching out to pull Jaeyoon into his arms. And the moment he does, Jaeyoon completely melts  He buries his face in Jaehyun’s chest, his small fingers gripping onto his father’s shirt. A choked little sob escapes him, and then, suddenly, he’s really crying.

Jaehyun just holds him tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head. “It’s okay, buddy. You can cry.”

Jaeyoon sniffles, his tiny shoulders trembling. “I tried so hard, Appa.”

“I know,” Jaehyun whispers, rubbing his back. “And you’re still the bravest boy I know.”

Jaeyoon clings to him, sobbing softly. Jaehyun doesn’t rush him, doesn’t tell him to stop he just lets him feel everything, lets him be small in this moment.

You stroke Jaeyoon’s hair gently. “You know… being strong doesn’t mean not crying. It means getting back up even when you’re hurt.”

Jaeyoon sniffles, pulling back slightly to look up at Jaehyun. “Really?”

Jaehyun nods, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. “Really. And you did get back up, didn’t you?”

Jaeyoon nods hesitantly. “Yeah…”

Jaehyun smiles, kissing the top of his head. “Then you’re the strongest boy I know.”

Jaeyoon lets out a little hiccup, then slowly finally smiles. “Okay.”

You and Jaehyun exchange a soft look, hearts swelling with love for your little boy.

And as Jaehyun lifts Jaeyoon into his arms, holding him close all the way to the car, you know no matter how big he gets, Jaeyoon will always have a place to feel safe.

The drive home is peaceful, the soft hum of the car engine filling the quiet night. Jaeyoon and Chaeyoon are completely knocked out in the backseat, their heads tilted at awkward angles, mouths slightly open.

Jaehyun glances at them through the rearview mirror and smirks. “Didn’t even last five minutes.”

You chuckle, watching Jaeyoon’s little chest rise and fall steadily. “I knew Jaeyoon would fall asleep fast, but Chaeyoon too? She must’ve been really full.”

Jaehyun shakes his head fondly. “She tried to act like she wasn’t, but I saw her struggling with that last piece of meat.”

You laugh softly, resting your head against the car window. The streetlights blur past, casting a warm glow over the quiet city. The moment feels so calm—just the two of you, with your babies fast asleep in the back.

Jaehyun exhales, one hand still on the wheel, the other casually resting on his lap. “Feels like just yesterday they were tiny.”

You smile, your heart swelling at the memories. “I know… Remember when Chaeyoon was born? We had no idea what we were doing.”

Jaehyun lets out a low chuckle. “You figured things out fast. I was freaking out every five seconds.”

“You were not.”

“I was.” He shakes his head, eyes still on the road. “I was scared to even hold her at first. She was so small.”

You glance back at your daughter, now twelve, long legs curled up on the seat. “She’s not so small anymore.”

Jaehyun sighs. “No, she’s not.”

There’s a beat of silence before he smiles softly. “Jaeyoon, though… That boy came into this world yelling.”

You laugh, covering your mouth to keep quiet. “Oh, God, he was so loud. The nurse literally said, ‘Wow, this one has a lot to say.’”

Jaehyun grins. “And she was right. He hasn’t stopped talking since.”

You sigh, glancing out the window. “Sometimes I wish we could go back. Just for a little while. Hold them when they were tiny again.”

Jaehyun reaches over, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “I know.” His voice is soft, full of understanding. “But we’re still here. Still watching them grow.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his. “And freaking out over ice cream dates.”

Jaehyun groans, tilting his head back. “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “You’ll survive, babe.”

He glances at you with a smirk. “Will I?”

You grin, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Of course.”

Jaehyun chuckles, eyes crinkling as he pulls into your driveway. “As long as I have you.”

And as you sit there, watching your babies sleep peacefully in the backseat, you realize—these moments, the quiet ones, the ordinary ones—are the ones that make life so beautiful.

[rwshfordgirl]

KENAN YILDIZ IS YOUR FIANCÉ?

where her students discover that kenan is her fiancé

pairing: kenan yildiz x teacher reader!

a/n: i want to thank 🪐 anon, you helped me improve this story haha but a few years ago i wrote a story similar to this one with ben chilwell, but those were pandemic times :/ unfortunately i no longer have the original post, but rewriting it was really cool.

requests are open | check here my masterlist

The mayor decided to hold classes remotely for a day due to an event that would leave the streets of Turin busy. You don't mind teaching and being at home, and the children wouldn't mind changing for one day either, in fact they are curious. When they received the news that they would have online classes, they shared loud and clear that they wanted to see what your house was like.

"I'll only show you my house if you show yours."

You made your 9 year old students laugh.

The office on the third floor of your house was made for events like this. In fact, you teach Italian classes remotely to people from all over the world. However, a leak must leave the space closed. And today, you will have to teach on the kitchen counter.

"Kenan, love. It'll take me an hour in the kitchen, if you need anything, text me."

Your fiancé appeared in the room, he seemed to be looking for something.

"It's okay, I won't bother you."

Yildiz gave you a kiss on the cheek after grabbing a drink from the fridge and going up to his room, he intended to make the most of his day off from training. Since he couldn't stay with you, he decided to watch whatever was on TV.

"Signora, your kitchen is very beautiful." Your student's high-pitched voice was the first thing you heard when you entered the virtual classroom.

"Thank you, Amelia." You smiled at the screen. "I'm glad to see you guys with the camera on, I thought you guys would be embarrassed."

"You said you would only show us your house if we showed us ours."

"You guys really took this seriously." You chuckled subtly. "But come on, we have to start studying."

You heard countless sounds of children snorting, which made you laugh out loud. They turned on the microphone just to do that.

"You guys are very lazy. But don't worry, we're just going to practice what we saw in class yesterday."

Out of the corner of your eye you quickly saw a figure pass by. Which made you jump back slightly. It was Kenan, he looked at you with an awkward smile.

"I forgot my cell phone." He whispered, but not quietly enough.

"How is there with you, Signora?"

His gaze was divided between the computer screen and Kenan smiling embarrassedly, knowing he couldn't be there.

"Stop taking care of your teacher's life."

Someone who shared the same room as one of the children, screamed.

"Oh my God." Your student said as he kept his eyes peeled for Kenan's figure passing behind you trying not to be seen, "Kenan Yildiz. Do you live with Kenan Yildiz?"

The children began to talk together, some wondering who Kenan was and others almost crying.

You turned your head back a little to look at Kenan. "Sorry." He mumbled.

You gave the Turkish man a reassuring smile. "It's okay."

Not enough reason to be mad at Yildiz. You knew that the kids would find out sooner or later that Kenan was your fiancé. In fact, you don't know how they didn't find out before, your photos wearing the Juve jersey at the stadium on match days appear on several gossip portals.

You reached out to gently pull Yildiz by the sleeve of the long shirt he was wearing. Seeing the children's reaction to seeing him up close made you laugh out loud, again.

"I want you to meet someone very special to me." You saw Kenan's cheeks flush "My fiancé."

"I can't believe my favorite teacher is engaged to my favorite player."

"Kenan please, come visit us at school."

Like you, Kenan laughed at their reaction. What’s more, he felt proud knowing that the children felt so much affection for you. Seeing you becoming a teacher, as you always dreamed of, makes Yildiz feel happy.

"I'll visit you only if you pay attention in class today, okay?"

Total silence. The children just nodded.

"Great. I'll leave you guys alone now." He walked away smiling and waving at the computer camera. "Love you, good job." You read his lips and blew a kiss in his direction.

Your students were in awe, you laughed at their reaction after Yildiz's cameo. They couldn't believe.

"I can't believe my teacher is Kenan Yildiz's fiancée."

The days passed, and they couldn't get Kenan out of their heads. You even tried to get Kenan to come to a cultural event that was going to be held at the school, but the busy schedule didn't allow them to go.

But Kenan was eager to meet the school, the staff, and the kids. After all, you always speak so highly of them. Why wouldn't he enjoy meeting the people you like?

And it was on a random Thursday that he decided to pick you up at the school where you teach. Kenan arrived a few seconds before the bell rang and the children were released. He was outside the car, leaning on the side of the vehicle and smiling as he watched you say goodbye to the students.

"Miss, your fiancé is here." One of the girls warned you and you saw him waving as you looked up.

The children crowded around you. "Call him to come here, please." The sly voice made you smile and do as asked.

Yildiz was happy when he saw you waving, calling him to come in. And he promptly followed towards you.

He was hugged by several children, even those who weren't even his students. He looked at you with a smile that took up almost his entire face.

"They were waiting for this moment anxiously."

"I imagine, I promised them I would come."