#I was already to old to begin with but yeah LOL

[12luckyone]

...

[sketchtastrophee]

old art again!! this time a rough animation of sawyer and yarnaby 😎 (looks better if u click to view 😭)

im working on a short ppt animation rn. im thinking i should post it to my youtube channel, though im not sure if people here would see it. i think i can link videos on here?? idk

okay I'm gonna talk abt more chapter 4 stuff.. this time about prototype's previous identity.. ch4 spoilers and also a theory below..

hiding the solo yarnaby under here LOL

people theorized 1006 was elliot, which was recently disproven in the chapter 4 tape where poppy refers to elliot as her dad and wishes he were there. in the same tape she addresses prototype as a completely different person. also recall that elliot died in the 90s, meanwhile prototype met theo in 1989. so yeah, they aren't the same person

I've also seen people say rich is prototype, which cannot be true either. in a ch4 tape he speaks to one of the employees under his supervision. the kid mentions his coworkers joking about him going missing. before the bbi, it would not make sense for this to be a common rumor at the company, which means this tape had to happen after harley was hired in 1990; at a time when the company would have a reason to silence people

prototype existed in 1989 at the minimum, but considering he says "it's always been about you and me" to poppy, he's likely the prototype of HER. she's elliots daughter, she died in the 60s, meaning prototype was probably created around that time as well.

this means that rich can't be the prototype because he was human long after prototype was made

if you want my take on who prototype truly is, i'd say his identity doesn't necessarily matter. i don't mean to say his origins aren't important, just that his name and specific role in the past probably doesn't mean anything in the long run. i've never believed he was elliot or rich, and maybe in the future i'll be proven wrong but for now i'll tell you the theory i've had since june of last year

elliot's daughter dies in the 60s. he divorced his wife in 1930, so his daughter is probably in her 30s when she dies. she gets sick or injured, maybe she's actively dying or already dead by the time elliot begins his research. he looks for ways to bring her back, but it doesn't work on the rats (as he mentioned a note in the 2nd chapter)

so what does he do? he tries it on something bigger as he said he would: a human. of course he's not going to try this experimental method on his own daughter, even if she's already dead, so he finds someone else to use it on. we know that elliot wasn't evil or anything, so it's unlikely he killed anybody to use for the experiment. considering the orphanage isn't open yet (it opened in the 70s, not the 60s), prototype probably wasn't an orphan child either. if i run with my simple version of the theory, elliot may have dug up a body in a graveyard and used that. maybe a fresh one, who knows. he tried it, it worked, then he revived his daughter with the same method.

this is likely what harley wanted to know about in the chapter 3 tape (the "i learn something new about you every day" one), and also what prototype is asking harley to figure out in the ch4 tape they're both in. in that case, sawyer never actually figured out how to revive people with the poppy substance. sure, he can transfer people into the toys, but he can't bring anybody back to life

more reason to believe prototype and poppy are of the same "batch" is because it seems they are the only two who don't need food. it's outright stated about him in the ch1 trailer, and insinuated with her saying the "toys will starve otherwise" when she's talking about how nasty them eating humans is. she refers to them, not herself. her and prototype are probably the only 2 who were ever brought back from the dead, which circles back around to his monologue and gives meaning to the "it's always been about you and me, poppy. what we are". when i heard him say that i felt like my theory was lowk confirmed 😭😭

no guarantee this is right, but it's been my guess for a long time

[hhaechansmoless]

LIGHTS OUT PT.2

pairing: f1driver!haechan x PRmanager!femreader

genre: fluff, angst, romance

description: Part of the Beyond The Grid series. Haechan, bold, aggressive and unrelenting, is back after a narrowly missed opportunity to become the world champion in 2024. This time, he's set his sight on making it all the way to the top. You, as his newly appointed PR representative, are assigned with the task of keeping up with a world of high stakes, unpredictable twists and well, him.

warnings: strong language, stressful situations, descriptions of car crashes and physical exhaustion, slowburn, honestly quite f1 heavy

w/c: part 1 - 17.8k part 2 - 15.8k glossary taglist a/n: the last part!! for any errors in descriptions of any of these places, reminder: i've never been there LOL. Writing Haechan in this threw him back into my bias list (very up high too) and it was so fun :)) this is the biggest fic i have ever written and i think that I'd like to be proud of it. I hope you all like it too! (If you do, i may or may not have a ferrari scoups fic in the working to make this into a series for all my caratzens 👀 so please be on the lookout for that as well!) This might have a few typos ngl...proofread this half late at night so excuse them 😔Please feel free to comment or send an ask about your thoughts on this. Feedback is always appreciated <3

COLOGNE, GERMANY

September 12th

You: Haechan you’ve been to Cologne before right? What was the name of that restaurant you said you really liked? In Alstadt. [12:47]

Lee Haechan (RB): Are you in Cologne rn? [12:47]

You: Yeah!!! My sister and I decided to go on a little girls trip since yk there’s a break. She has a college sem break now too so the timing was perfect haha Anyways, what's the name? [12:48]

Lee Haechan (RB): What the hell 😭 omg where are you exactly rn This is INSANE I’m ALSO here with my SISTER ??? [12:48}

You: NO WAY??? We’re walking back from the cathedral rn Old town’s like 2 mins away by walk where are YOU? [12:48]

Lee Haechan (RB): There’s this lock store thing nearby in old town My sister wanted to buy one for her and her boyfriend so we’re going to head there after lunch 🙄 We should eat togetherrrr ask your sister Mine’s fine with it. [12:48]

“Rina,” You call your sister to grab her attention. She hums as she turns one last time to take another photo of the cathedral looming in the distance, “Promise me you won’t freak out.”

She turns to look at you then, furrowing her brows, “Why?”

“So I asked the friend that I told you I’d be asking…” You grimace as she stares at you for a moment before it clicks.

“Ah! The guy you lowkey have a crush on but will not admit it. Yes, why?” She grins, looping her arm through yours as you begin to walk again.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes, “Coincidentally, he’s here too and he’s wondering if we can catch lunch together. He’s with his sister too.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the excitement coursing through your sister, a small jump in her next step as her hand tightens around yours.

“Yes! Tell him we’ll come,” Rina giggles, “Oh, I can’t wait to meet this guy!”

You sigh again, regretting your decision already, “Please don’t embarrass me? And don’t say anything I wouldn’t want you to say, okay?”

She nods her head, lips stretching into a smile, “Go on, tell him!” 

You pull your phone out of your coat pocket.

You: We’ll come!! Are you sure your sister is fine w it? [12:50]

To your surprise, your phone buzzes in your hands, Haechan’s profile pic flashing on your screen.

You quickly swipe to answer, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. “Hello?”

“Hey,” his voice is casual, but you can hear the underlying excitement. “I figured it’d be easier to call. Are you in Alstadt now? My sister is really excited, by the way.”

You take a moment to look around the old town. It’s a charming sight, cobbled roads with colourful, narrow buildings leaning against each other. The air carries a faint scent of fresh pastries from cozy cafes nestled between quaint shops selling handcrafted trinkets and souvenirs. There’s a relaxed and calm energy in the air from the soft murmur of laughter and conversation drifting out of the many breweries in the area. 

“Yep, where do we go?”

“Awesome. Okay, see the fountain in the middle of the square?” Haechan asks, his voice clear through the phone. “We’re at this brewery right behind it. It’s got these big wooden barrels outside and a green sign. You can’t miss it.”

You look up, spotting the fountain just ahead, surrounded by people taking photos and chatting. “Yeah, I see the fountain. We’re heading over now.”

“Cool,” Haechan replies, his voice light. “I’m standing outside so you can spot me.”

You can’t help but smile. “Alright, see you in a bit.”

“See ya,” he says, and the call stays connected, neither of you hanging up.

It’s strange how comfortable it feels, just having him on the other end of the line. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to hang up first or if he’s waiting to spot you. You don’t have the heart to hang up either.

Your sister, on the other hand, has no qualms about your situation. She pokes your shoulder, her voice loud enough for Haechan to probably hear. “Are we going or what?”

You snap out of your thoughts, feeling your face heat up. “Yeah, we’re going.” 

The sun shines bright over the square, but there’s still a chill in the air. It’s pleasant and frankly it’s exactly the weather you love. As you pass the fountain, the sunlight glinting off the water, you promise Rina that you can take photos on your way out. Just beyond it, you spot the brewery Haechan described, the wooden barrels outside and the green sign hanging above the door. And there he is, leaning casually against the wall. 

He’s wearing a slightly oversized beige knit sweater that looks warm and comfortable, the fabric soft and relaxed around his shoulders. It contrasts nicely against his black jeans. His hair falls messily over his forehead, tousled by the breeze, and he looks so put-together that it takes you a second to remember how to breathe.

I see you,” you say softly, your heart doing a little flip.

You see him perk up, his eyes searching the crowd before locking on you. A bright smile spreads across his face, and he waves.

You wave back, suddenly feeling shy before you cut the call.

“Is that him?” Rina whistles. Haechan stands a little awkwardly, hands tucked into his pockets as he waits for the two of you to come over. As you come closer though, Rina gasps.

“What the fuck? That’s Haechan.” She stops in her tracks, hand falling out from yours.

You nod sheepishly, scratching your neck, “Yeah…”

“You have a crush on Lee fucking Haechan, shut up.” Her mouth falls open. You grimace before pulling her along again. 

“Please behave yourself.” 

“Do you think I could ask for an autograph?” She pipes up, “I didn’t want to ask you till now cause I didn’t know if it would be appropriate but holy shit, you like him and by the looks of it, he does too so I think it would be fine.”

“Rina, stop.” You grit out, still smiling.

“Hey, you made it!” Haechan’s smile grows wider when you approach. Without thinking, he moves in closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders for a brief second, a quick, casual side hug as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s barely more than a brush, just enough for you to feel his warmth against your side, his fingers resting lightly on your shoulder before he pulls away just as quickly. 

Rina grins at you, making you narrow your eyes as you turn back to Haechan. 

“Haechan, meet Rina, my sister. Rina,” You point at him, “This is Haechan.”

He holds out his hand for her to shake, which she takes willingly.

“I don’t mean to make this awkward,” Rina begins, “And she’s probably going to kill me for saying it so soon, but I’m a big fan! You were really cool in Austria!”

Haechan laughs, eyes flitting over to you once, “Thank you. She’s really mean about it though, isn’t she? She never tells me that I do well.”

“I just don’t want to inflate your ego,” You roll your eyes defensively, “And hey! I do tell you sometimes.”

He nods, but you see the look he shoots your sister, making her giggle in agreement.

“Anyways, let’s go in, Dahyun’s already caught us a seat.”

—

The plates on the table are mostly empty, remnants of lunch scattered between glasses of half-full beer and water. The lively chatter coming from the other side of the table contrasts the comfortable silence between you and Haechan.

You lean back in your chair, eyes fixed on Rina, who’s explaining something to Dahyun, her hands moving wildly as she talks. Dahyun watches her with rapt attention, nodding along enthusiastically, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“They’ve really hit it off, huh?” Haechan’s voice is low and close, his shoulder just barely brushing yours as he leans in.

You smile, nodding. “Yeah. I didn’t expect them to get along so well.”

Haechan hums, “Dahyun’s usually shy around new people, so this is a nice surprise.”

You glance at him, taking in the soft, fond smile on his face, “She’s cute. I was honestly worried that Rina might be a bit too much. She’s—if it’s not obvious already—the extroverted one between the two of us.”

“You talk to a lot of new people, though,” Haechan turns to look at you, “Quite confidently, too.”

“It comes with the job,” You shrug.

“Speaking of, it’s nice to meet outside of work, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re probably glad I’m not eating your ear off about saying the right things, no?” You joke, expecting him to laugh and retort. Instead, he looks slightly taken aback.

“No, I don’t mind it.” Haechan tells you, but when you shoot an unsure look, he continues, “I mean, at first it was a bit weird. You were all business, all the time. But then I got used to it... and now...” He trails off, his eyes flicking to yours before quickly looking away. “Now, I like having you around.”

Your pulse quickens, not expecting him to sound so serious. “Oh,” is all you manage to put out.

He seems to want to say something else when a burst of laughter from across the table catches your attention. Dahyun and Rina are completely lost in conversation, their heads bent close over Dahyun’s phone as they snicker at something.

“It’s kind of crazy how we’re both at the same place, if you think about it.” Haechan scoffs, smiling at them, “And crazy how they’re getting along. So random.”

“I’m pretty sure I overheard them exchanging numbers too.” You giggle, “Guess it was just meant to be.” You glance at him.

Haechan’s gaze is already on you, his eyes softening, “Yeah, maybe it was.”

You’re not sure who looks away first when the moment is broken by Dahyun.

“Oh! The love locks!” she exclaims, her eyes bright as she turns to Haechan. “We’re going after this, right?”

Haechan sighs, “Yeah, yeah.”

Dahyun beams, turning to Rina. “There’s this bridge nearby where couples put locks on the railings and throw the key into the river. It’s supposed to be, like, a forever thing. Isn’t that cute?”

Rina’s eyes widen with excitement. “That’s adorable! We should put one too,” She looks at you.

You laugh, “Hey, you can’t get rid of me. We’re already sisters forever, or whatever.”

“Still,” She insists.

“Oh my god,” Dahyun gasps, “We should all put one together! Like... as a memory of today!”

Her words hang in the air. All of you? Together? Your eyes flick to Haechan only to find him already looking at you. His expression is unreadable, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he looks away, a small smile playing on his lips.

Rina claps her hands excitedly. “That’s such a cute idea! And we can write the date on it too!” She turns to you, her eyes sparkling. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

You hesitate, feeling strangely shy. “I mean... yeah, I guess that could be cute.”

Haechan leans back in his chair, his arm resting casually on the back of yours. “You sure? Thought you’d think it's cheesy.”

You scoff but your lips curve up anyways.

It’s just a lock. It’s just a silly little tradition, you try convincing yourself.

But the thought won’t leave your mind. The image of writing on that lock, snapping it in place on the bridge... standing next to Haechan, side by side, surrounded by hundreds of other locks glinting in the sun. You can almost feel the warmth of his shoulder against yours, hear his soft laughter as you fumble with the key. It’s silly. Completely unrealistic. But the thought makes your chest flutter all the same.

“Okay!” Dahyun announces, breaking you out of your thoughts. “It’s settled then. We’re all getting one!”

She looks so excited that you can’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright. I’m in.”

“To be fair,” you turn to Haechan as you get up from your seat, slipping your arms into your coat, “This seems like the kind of thing you’d call cheesy too.”

He shrugs, helping you pull the sleeve as you struggle with your left arm, “Yeah, but it’s different if it’s with you.”

You freeze. His eyes are bright, reflecting the golden afternoon light. You don’t see the playful spark in them that’s present whenever he pulls pranks on his engineers and mechanics. Are you just imagining it, or does he look the most sincere you’ve ever seen him?

You tear your gaze away, clearing your throat, “What is that even supposed to mean?”

He laughs, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “C’mon, let’s catch up before they leave us behind.”

Without a second thought, he holds out his hand to you, palm open and waiting. You try not to stare, hesitating for a moment before slipping your hand into his. 

Haechan’s fingers curl around yours, slowly, maybe a little unsure now that he’s already done it. You lose your breath at the way it feels so right.

For the first time, as he leads the two of you out, you stop trying to convince yourself that it doesn’t mean anything. Right now, it’s starting to feel like everything.

SINGAPORE, MARINA BAY STREET CIRCUIT

Thursday, Media day October 2nd

Haechan walks out of the meeting room with a lot more on his shoulders than he had walking into it an hour ago. There's a sense of finality, excitement in him as he peeps into the corridor, wondering where you are. At the same time, it feels like the biggest burden ever. Six years he's prepared for this, fought for this and now that the weekend is already here, he is overwhelmed beyond words. Even though he's known that it's been coming this entire season, even though he came close to it last year, Haechan realizes that no matter how many times it happens, he might never get used to it.

He sees you walking towards him, turning into the corridor he's in. Your eyes are stuck on your tablet, strides long and in a rush.

He realizes you're the first one he's going to tell. It's electrifying.

You come to a stop in front of him, beginning to greet him when he stops you by putting both his hands on your shoulders. His hand shakes a little and you notice it.

“Are you alright? Do you feel si-”

“They said I could win the championship this weekend.” 

Haechan watches as you smile, like you already knew. Do you?

Your smile grows, “I know! I just got the news. The press will probably ask you about it.” 

He leans against the wall, hand coming up to his heart, “I can't believe it, honestly.”

“You can do this!” You grin, “I'm so happy for you, genuinely. Finishing the championship with like 6 more races left is crazy and you're so close to it.”

“You think I can do it?” Usually Haechan asks such questions when he's completely confident and digging for compliments, but today you know he really means it.

“I believe in you, come on.” You drag him, “You will be fine. Right now, there's a press conference to get to.”

“You're going in with Seungcheol, Doyoung and Jeonghan.” You inform him as you leave the hospitality and head towards the FIA building. “They will definitely ask you about the drivers championship and since Choi is also there, there'll be questions about the constructors too. There's no need to make digs at anyone right now, so be careful.”

“What do I tell them if they ask about the drivers championship? Fuck, I really don't know what to say.” He sighs, shaking his head, “It feels kind of unreal.”

“It's better to play it safe right now. I'm sure that this weekend decides if you're going to be champion, not Jaehyun, right? So even if you don't win here you don't have to be too worried. Don't freak out so much. You only have to tell them that you're focusing on the race here. There's no need to commit to anything beyond that.” You bite your lip, “Honestly Haechan, you'll be fine. Say what comes to your mind, just don't sound overconfident, alright?”

He nods. You give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder as the two of you enter the conference room. You'll be sitting behind the reporters, right there. He has nothing to be worried about.

The moderator begins to speak as Haechan sits down next to Seungcheol, “Good afternoon everyone. Welcome to the FIA driver's press conference ahead of the Singapore Grand Prix. Joining us today, on my right we have Doyoung from Mercedes, Jeonghan from Williams, Seungcheol from Ferrari and Haechan from Red Bull.”

The first few questions from the moderator are directed towards the other three, with Jeonghan answering questions about how it's getting more competitive in the midfield right now, to Doyoung talking about the problems he's been facing with the car as of late. The next question, though, goes to Seungcheol.

“Seungcheol, Ferrari are in contention against Red Bull for both the Driver's and the Constructors’ Championship, and it seems the team’s focus has shifted more towards Jaehyun’s title fight. How are you balancing supporting the team’s goals with pursuing your own results this weekend?” The moderator asks.

Haechan can tell it ticks off the man beside him.

“The team’s goal is to secure the best possible result in the Constructors’ Championship, and I’m fully committed to contributing to that. Jaehyun’s in the title fight, and it makes sense for Ferrari to back him. But that doesn’t mean I’m just here to play support. I’m still a competitor, and I’m racing for myself too. My focus is on maximizing my own performance, and if that helps the team, then that’s a win-win.” Seungcheol asserts before setting his mic down.

“Thank you, Seungcheol. Moving on to our championship contender. Haechan, you have a chance to secure the driver's championship this weekend. How are you managing the pressure of that possibility, especially at a track as challenging as Singapore?”

Haechan clears his throat, “Yeah, I mean I'd be lying if I said there was no pressure. But it's a part of the job. I've learned that the moment you start thinking too ahead, you lose focus of what's in front of you right now. So I'm trying to take this entire weekend one step at a time. Singapore is a tough track, nothing's guaranteed. I'm going to approach it like any other race. Try to give my best. If it happens, it does. Otherwise we keep pushing.”

The moderator nods, “Well, all the very best to you. We'll now open the floor to questions from the media.”

A journalist in the first row stands up, “My question is for Haechan.”

“Hello,” Haechan smiles, earning polite laughter from the journalists.

“Both Seungcheol and Doyoung have been in your position before. Have you sought any advice from them on handling the pressure of a title decider?”

“I mean,” Haechan laughs a little, “Not really? I've seen first hand how they've handled it and that in itself has been sort of a lesson. But at the end of the day, all drivers experience things differently and deal with things differently. But who knows, maybe I should ask them.” He turns to look at the two world champions sitting near him.

Seungcheol throws a small smile, “You'd have to ask nicely.”

Haechan rolls his eyes at this, playfully poking the inside of his mouth with his tongue in mock irritation.

Doyoung laughs along with the rest of the room before speaking, “Honestly, with the way he's been driving this season, I wouldn't say he needs our advice.”

The next journalist stands up with a question for Seungcheol.

“There have been rumors going around since Monza that you might be in the talks of leaving Ferrari. Do you have anything to comment on about that?”

“Rumors are just that—rumors. Nothing is confirmed till you hear it from me. Right now, I'm focused on the constructors. Anything beyond that, we will talk when the time comes.” He says with an air of finality, giving the hint that he will not entertain more questions about this.

—

Lee Haechan (RB): Can you wait for me? I'm almost out of debriefing We're going to the same place anyways, I'll drive you [20:29]

You: stalker much? I'm in front of the Ferrari hospitality. [20:34]

Lee Haechan (RB): More like I saw you leaving in the morning Where are youuuu [20:36]

“Hey,” Haechan greets as he walks up to you.

You take his arrival as an excuse to leave, bidding farewell to Jaehyun's PR manager.

“God, you came at the right time, really.” You groan as the two of you walk into the parking lot.

“Why? She's that bad?”

“Don't even get me started,” You let out, exasperated, “I pity Jaehyun, honestly.”

Haechan lets out an offended noise as he opens the door of his car for you. You slip inside, too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice the gesture. When he gets into the driver's seat, he sighs.

“You can't pity my competitors, come on. Unless it's because of what's coming for them.” He jokes.

You sigh, swatting his arm, “No that's not it. She's weirdly really open with whatever is going on at their team. I think if we’d stayed a few more minutes she would’ve straight up started talking about the contract situations in Ferrari.”

“My first PR manager was like that too. And I think because I was a lot younger, he thought he could just control me and boss me around.” Haechan exhales as he drives out of the gates. 

It makes you bristle. “I hate people like that, honestly. Like you’ve got one job, it’s really not that hard to stick to it while being a nice person too.”

Haechan hums, nodding his head. 

“You know, thinking back on it, she was like that in college too. Never knew how to keep things to herself. She had this grand nickname— The Leaky Faucet.”

It makes him laugh. You can’t help but stare at him while he drives. He looks like he feels better than he did in the morning, his shoulders are more relaxed and his head gently moves to the beat of the song playing on the radio. The soft, dim glow of the dashboard makes his features look softer and more innocent.

You look away before he can catch you gazing. “Is the hotel far from the track? I didn’t really have the time to notice it in the morning.”

“Nah,” Haechan glances at you for a moment before focusing on the road again, “We’ll be there in like five minutes. Come to think of it, this is the first time you’re sitting in a car that I’m driving.”

You gasp, “Wow, it is! I’d give you a 4.8 rating out of 5.”

“Where did the 0.2 go?” He scoffs.

You sigh, sinking back into the seat, gazing outside the window at the Marina Bay Sands hotel outside, forever illuminated. “Nowhere. I need to keep your ego in check.”

“You wound me,” He says, making you laugh at the way it sounds so monotone, “By the way, I called my parents up today and they were so excited, I’m pretty sure they already booked tickets to fly in for tomorrow.”

You coo at that, unable to stop your lips from smiling, “That’s great! It’s insane honestly. I mean, you’ve probably heard it from so many people already, but I’m truly very excited for you.”

He pulls into the hotel entrance, shaking his head towards the valet to let him know that he’ll park the car himself. Looking back at you, he smiles. “Thanks pretty.”

If his words didn’t make your breath hitch, you’d be rolling your eyes right now, fighting the urge to pull him by the ears. Too bad you actually fucking like the stupid guy.

“Dahyun’s coming too, I think,” Haechan mumbles as he backs into a parking spot. He does it with only one hand, the other resting casually on the center console. He does it with so much ease that you have to blink a few times to snap out of your thoughts. The effortless way he controls the car, barely glancing at the mirrors, makes you wonder how many times he’s done this before. There’s something undeniably attractive about how relaxed and composed he is. You remind yourself that he’s a driver, for god sake. It would be concerning if he didn’t know how to park well.

“I honestly think she’s more excited to see you than see me win.” Haechan speaks again as he turns the ignition off, turning his body sideways to look at you.

Although you scoff, your heart warms at the thought of his sister liking you, “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Believe what you will,” He shrugs, “I’m telling the truth, though.”

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you. For a second, you let yourself savour the idea of being more involved in his world.

“You’re exaggerating, Haechan. But do tell her I’ll be happy to see her as well.” You say, getting out of the car. He follows you, gently shutting the door before locking it behind him.

As the elevator doors close, Haechan speaks up again. “I'm glad you two like each other, honestly. Hope your sister doesn't mind me either.”

You're about to laugh it off and tell him that Rina would love him anyways when the first part of his sentence hits you. A part of you wants to ask him why, wants to put a name on this, wants everything cleared up. The other part wants to let everything die down before you address anything.

Tonight, you ask anyway, sure that you'll regret whatever answer you hear from him. Both your rooms are coincidentally on the 25th floor giving you plenty of time to talk if you must.

“Haechan,” You begin, carefully, “Really, what do you mean by that?”

He looks at you properly, turning his entire body towards you. 

Haechan thinks you feel the same way that he does. Although you're professional most of the time, he's noticed the way you blush or look away when he throws something flirty at you. He's noticed the way you've become much more comfortable with him, the way you don't seem to mind how close you've become. The lines between coworkers and friends had been erased a while ago, but the line between friends and a little something more lies there in the space between you two, stretching long and thick. He wants to bend over it, hold your hand and jump onto your side to erase that too. He's just not sure if tonight is the night. So he makes himself, and hopefully you, a promise.

“Sunday,” He finally says, sounding a little short of breath but determined nonetheless, “I promise we’ll talk about this on Sunday, after the race.”

You nod. In a way you are relieved, but now that you know you're going to hear something from him, it keeps you on your toes. 

When the two of you get off the elevator on the 25th floor, Haechan stops you by grabbing your hand. You glance at it for a second and it makes him take his hand off. You wish you could tell him that you would rather him not do that.

“I hope this doesn't make it awkward between us for the next few days.” Haechan admits, looking down as he shuffles from one foot onto the other.

“Of course not,” You furrow your eyebrows, “It won't, don't worry.”

Your rooms are on two different ends of the corridor, so he shyly bids you goodbye and promises to leave only after he sees you go inside. You can't help the butterflies that rise in your stomach as you turn on your heels to go back to your room. You don't dare to turn back. You don't know if you can control yourself if you do.

—

Saturday, qualifying October 4th

“Welcome back to a crucial qualifying session here under the bright lights of the Marina Bay Circuit! We’re in for a tense evening, and one of the biggest stories heading into this weekend is Lee Haechan’s grid penalty. After taking a fresh energy store, the Red Bull driver will drop ten places from wherever he qualifies today.” 

“Yeah, and that’s a big blow for him. He’s got the chance to walk away with the driver’s championship this weekend, and on a track like Singapore, which is notoriously difficult on the drivers, that’s going to be a tough hill to climb on race day.”

Usually, you don’t sit through qualifying. There are more important things to do back at the hospitality. Articles to overview, media obligations to manage, last-minute preparations for whatever chaos might unfold post-session. But tonight is different. The Red Bull garage is packed, not just with the engineers and strategists and mechanics but with most of the crew that usually don’t attend. It’s an important qualifying that leads to an important day for not just Haechan but the entire team. The last time Red Bull had a world champion on their hands was a long time ago. 

His family is here too, in one of the corners of the garage where there are normal televisions to watch the qualifying. You see Dahyun wave at you and smile in return. You can’t walk up to her right now, but you’d already met her earlier in the day when her mother and her had stopped by the hospitality to grab a coffee before heading down to the garage during FP3. 

You turn your attention back to the screen when you see Haechan roll out of the garage for his first run. The RB21 glows under the artificial lights as he leaves the pitlane. 

“Out lap now. Track conditions look stable. Let’s build into it.”

“Copy.” Haechan responds. 

He’s worried. 

This grid penalty just had to fall on the weekend that mattered the most and there’s nothing he can do to even protest against it because it’s the team’s decision, and because it was done to maximise his performance this weekend in the first place.

As Haechan begins his outlap, he pushes the penalty out of his mind. He needs to focus on getting pole. It’s the only way he can lessen the damage. 

On the bright side, the car feels good under him. He approaches the corners confidently and the car is well balanced, taking the high speed straights well. Maybe the new energy stores were a good decision after all.

You watch as the first times come in. Doyoung sets the benchmark, a 1:35.982. Jeno follows, then Seungcheol. The screen flickers as sector times update, and you feel the tension build as Haechan’s name lights up purple in Sector 1. 

He’s faster than Doyoung by a tenth in sector 1. As Haechan approaches Sector 2, you’re on edge. If he can stay ahead here, sector 3 won’t be too hard. The screen flickers, and there it is—another purple. Faster than Doyoung again.

"Yes!" someone mutters under their breath. You can’t help but feel a surge of pride, even though it’s far from over. 

He hits the final stretch, and you watch as the seconds increase. The timing screens update, but this time, it's Haechan’s name that dominates. A 1:34.926. Purple across the board.

The garage erupts. The engineers shout in excitement, high-fiving each other. The team principal gives a nod of approval, but his focus is already on what’s next. Haechan’s provisional pole doesn’t guarantee anything yet, but it’s a damn good start.

The team radio crackles on Haechan’s side, “Mega job, Haechan. Mega. You can head in if you’d like.”

Haechan doesn’t have room to be satisfied with his performance. He will not, until he has a clear lead over the others. He wants to push, see how much more than a second he can go. Plus, Singapore is a track where the grip increases with more rubber lay-down.

“I’ll stay out.”

After a slow, recharge lap, the team watches as he winds up for another flying lap. It’s a gamble, his tires will have lost some of their peak performance, but if he nails the lap, it won’t matter.

“Alright, you’re clear,” his race engineer says. “Push now.”

Haechan’s first sector is clean and precise. He shaves off time where he can and maneuvers through the corners perfectly. Then comes sector 2. The garage watches as he approaches Turn 14, braking even later than before. The car responds sharply. The rear wobbles, side pods almost grazing the wall, so close that for a moment, everyone in the garage holds their breath. It’s the kind of moment where, if he gets it wrong, that’s the lap over.

But Haechan doesn’t lift. Doesn’t hesitate.

“That’s a purple sector 2. Doing good, push harder if possible.”

“I’m trying, man,” Haechan grits out. He’s already wringing every bit of performance out of the car.

He storms through sector 3, showing insane speed on the straights. You think that the people back at the factory who are most definitely watching right now, deserve to be really proud of themselves.

When Haechan crosses the line again, the times update.

1:34:582.

“What’s the gap?”

A beat of silence, then his engineer’s voice,“P1 by 1.4 seconds. You can box, box.”

And that is pole position occupied for the rest of quali, you think, unable to help the grin on your face as you watch his family celebrate.

The pitlane is still buzzing as the final cars complete their laps, but no one comes close. Haechan’s time remains untouchable. One by one, the names shuffle on the board, but his stays on top.

When the session ends, confirmation comes through. “Session over, P1 confirmed,” his engineer tells him. “We’ll start P10 tomorrow. Lots of work to do but good job, you did your best.”

Haechan knows it too. He climbs out of the car, removes his helmet, and though his face is calm, you know him well enough to see the flicker of frustration behind his eyes. Pole position means nothing when you have to give it up.

He barely has a moment to breathe before his family surrounds him, his mother pulling him into a tight hug before he can even react. He stumbles back a step, but his hands come up instinctively, resting on her back as she murmurs something only he can hear. Whatever frustration was lingering in his posture melts just slightly, replaced by something softer. 

Dahyun grins beside them, waiting for their mother to let go before nudging Haechan in the ribs. “Fastest man on track,” she teases. “Shame you’re not starting there.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, but there’s the briefest twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he wants to be annoyed but can’t help himself. His father claps him on the shoulder, saying something about how he drove well regardless, and for a moment, the tension of the session is forgotten.

You hesitate a few steps away, watching the scene unfold. You don’t usually get involved in moments like these. They’re personal, belonging to the drivers and their families, not to you. You know when to blend into the background, to let them have their time. But you also know when to step in, because there’s still a job to do.

Still, approaching feels different this time.

Adjusting the collar of your team polo shirt, you take a breath before stepping forward.

“Haechan,” you say, voice level, “we need to head to the media pen soon.”

He turns at the sound of your voice, eyes flicking to you before he gestures for you to come closer. “Oh, right—Dad, Mom, this is my PR rep,” he says casually, “She makes sure I don’t say anything that’ll get me fined.”

His father chuckles, holding out his hand, “Well, that must be a full time job.”

You shake it firmly, offering a small smile, “Some weekends more than the others. But he’s fine.”

“We appreciate it,” his mother says warmly. “This one can be a handful.”

Haechan groans, throwing his head back as he sets his helmet on the table, “Come on, I’m really not that bad, she said it herself!”

He turns to you, “Can we please leave before they say something that would actually look like I’m a PR liability?”

You laugh at that, smiling and nodding at his family before you leave behind him.

The paddock is still alive and will be for a few more hours to come. Mechanics start packing up, Jeno’s side practices a pit-stop, engineers bent over their data. Haechan walks ahead, his pace unhurried. He doesn’t look particularly frustrated, but you can tell the result is still sitting with him.

“You’re quiet,” you say as you catch up.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Just thinking.”

“You drove well.”

He hums, “Doesn’t matter, does it?”

“It could’ve been worse,” You point out, “You’ve done all that you could have.”

He sighs softly. “Yeah. Still feels shit, though.”

You don’t have anything to say to that.

The media pen is bright and waiting. You can see the other drivers and their representatives and trainers hanging around the area, probably waiting for their turn or coming out after finishing. The journalists wait, cameras and mics ready.

Haechan breathes in deeply, dragging a hand through his hair, fingers catching briefly before falling back to his side. Then, with barely a pause, he steps forward, and you follow.

—

The hotel is quieter than expected when you walk in. It’s a little late, but you did expect to see at least a few people from the team in the lobby. You step into the elevator, pressing your floor number before leaning back against the wall, already half distracted by your phone.

The doors are just about to close when a hand slides in between them.

Haechan.

He steps inside, the doors shutting behind him. You blink, caught off guard. It’s late. Too late for him to just be getting back.

“You’re back now?” you ask, brows furrowing.

He leans against the railing on the glass back-wall, hands stuffed into his hoodie’s pockets, eyes trained on the floor. “Meetings went on forever. The debrief was long and there’s a lot to do tomorrow.”

You nod to yourself. Of course there is.

“What about you though?” Haechan looks up, “Why were you down so late?”

“I went to dinner with a friend,” You shrug.

“How was it?” He hums before looking up at the floor that the elevator stops on. 16. Someone gets on and you step behind, closer to him.

“It was fine,” You reply, a little softer, “Did you eat?”

Haechan nods.

“In your dressing room like a lonely little kid?”

“I didn’t feel like sitting with anyone. Everyone’s just going to talk about strategy and I felt like I was going to lose my mind.”

The person gets off on floor 19.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask softly. He can feel your stare on him, but it doesn’t feel harsh or expecting.

“It’s been a while since I’ve mentally dreaded a race this much.” Haechan sighs, looking at his shoes again, “It’s going to be really hard. Singapore always is, but with this championship hanging on the line, it’s going to be worse.”

You shift, leaning against the railing beside him. “Yeah,” you say, because what else is there? He already knows what tomorrow is. He doesn’t need you to tell him he’ll be fine, or that he can do it. He just needs to say it out loud.

He exhales, pressing his lips together. “I just don’t want to fuck it up.”

“If it makes any difference, I don’t think you will.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “You sound confident.”

“Someone has to be.”

That pulls a quiet laugh out of him. His fingers rake through his hair, messing it up worse than it already was. “I’m supposed to sleep properly tonight, but I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

The elevator dings, doors sliding open. You step out first, Haechan falling into step beside you. When he doesn’t say anything else, you pause, looking back at him. He’s still stuck in his own head.

Before you can think too much about it, you step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down slightly.

You feel him tense for a second, like he wasn’t expecting it. Then, slowly, he exhales, his shoulders dropping as he leans into you. His hands come up hesitantly, resting against your back before wrapping around your waist. 

He sighs when you gently rub your palms up and down his back and it sends a chill down your spine. Haechan is warm and soft and smells like fabric softener. His grip tightens, just slightly, like he doesn’t want to let go yet. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and for a second, the weight he’s been carrying all weekend seems to melt away. His body molds easily against yours, the space between you completely gone, like this is exactly where he needed to be without realizing it.

“You’re good at this,” he mumbles, voice low and muffled against your shoulder.

You huff out a small laugh. “At what?”

He shifts, his chin grazing your shoulder. “Making things feel less bad.”

—

Sunday, Race Day October 5th

“Welcome to race day here in Singapore,” the commentary plays in the background. “Today, there’s more than just a race win at stake. For the first time in the track’s history, it may see a driver crowned world champion tonight. Red Bull’s Lee Haechan has a chance to clinch the 2025 World Championship at the Marina Bay Circuit.”

A slow pan across the grid shows the top ten, cars lined up in neat formation, waiting. 

“But it won’t be easy,” the commentator continues. “After taking a grid penalty for a new energy store, Haechan starts tenth, meaning he’ll need to fight his way through the field if he wants to leave here as champion.”

“There’s more,” His co-commentator picks up. “He needs to finish in the top two, and Jaehyun who is still mathematically in the fight, must finish P4 or lower. If that happens, the title is his.”

The team is gathered around his car, making final adjustments. His race engineer says something to him, but Haechan only half listens, nodding out of habit. He already knows what he needs to do.

“And let’s not forget—his teammate, Jeno, starts from P3,” the broadcast continues. “He’s not in the championship fight, but he could be a major factor today, whether that’s helping Red Bull control strategy or playing a defensive role later in the race.”

Haechan exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders back as the national anthem begins. He stands among the other drivers, hands clasped in front of him, eyes fixed straight ahead. He barely hears the music. His mind is already in the race.

There’s no point overthinking now. He’s already run through every scenario, every risk, every move he needs to make. All that’s left is to drive.

As the anthem ends, the grid stirs back to life. Mechanics move around him, engineers making last-minute checks. He reaches for his balaclava, adjusting his gloves, but just before he pulls it on, his eyes flick toward the front row.

Jaehyun’s had a bad qualifying, so Haechan thinks that at least he had a little luck on his side as he watches the former get into his Ferrari standing at P6.

Jeno’s car sits in P3, just ahead of the chaos Haechan will have to navigate.

Jeno is already getting ready, helmet on, listening to his engineer. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t have to.

Haechan knows he’ll be there when it counts.

He exhales, pulling his helmet on. The engineer beside him pats his back.

"Let’s do this."

The grid clears. Engineers step back, mechanics rush off, the final checks are done. Haechan is in the car, helmet on, visor down. You put your earplugs back in as the roar of all twenty engines amplifies, getting ready for the formation lap.

You should be thinking about the media responsibilities that will come if he wins, if he loses, if something goes wrong. That’s your job. That’s what you always do.

But right now, none of that matters.

Right now, all you can think about is him.

Everything he’s worked for. The pressure he’s carried. The way he refuses to let himself enjoy the good moments because there’s always something more to chase. The way he overthinks, the way he drives like he’s got something to prove, the way he wants this more than anything.

Your fingers tighten, nails digging into your palm.

You want this for him. So badly it makes your chest ache. 

Dahyun stands next to you, palms pressed together beneath her chin. She doesn’t talk. For all the teasing and affection she shows for her brother, she understands this moment isn’t one for words.

You glance at her briefly, catching the way her eyes stay locked on the screen, unblinking. There’s no joke poised on the tip of her tongue, no playful jab about how dramatic all of this feels. Just quiet, unspoken hope.

The two of you stand there, side by side, a little away from her parents, watching as the cars snake through the final sector. The pit wall is alive with movement, engineers murmuring into headsets, strategists making their final calculations. But none of it feels real. Not the voices murmuring in the garage, not the bustling of the mechanics as they settle down, just the car marked with the number 66, rolling into position on the grid.

Dahyun lets out a breath, barely audible. You don’t realize you’ve been holding yours until you exhale, too.

Haechan pulls into his slot. The rest of the field follows.

The engines rev louder than before. The first light flickers on.

Haechan’s grip on his wheel tightens. His hands stay still, his breathing steady.

Two.

The tension in your chest coils tighter. The grid is motionless, waiting, but the air feels electric, charged with everything that’s about to happen.

Three.

Haechan’s foot hovers over the throttle. The start will make or break his race.

Four.

Your palms feel sweaty. It feels like everything is balancing on the edge of a knife.

Five.

Make it count, Haechan thinks.

The lights hold. For a second, and then another.

Then, they go out.

Haechan gets a start so good it almost doesn’t seem real.

The second the lights go out, he’s moving—reaction time faster than most of the midfield teams, his car shooting forward while others hesitate for a split second too long. Before they even reach Turn 1, he’s already ahead of one, then another, slipping into the gaps before they close.

“He’s off to a flying start, already gaining places down the straight!”

The onboard feed flickers, his hands steady, engine roaring as he picks off another car before the braking zone. The midfield is tight, but he’s making space where there shouldn’t be any.

“He’s up to eighth already!”

The next car ahead is slower, leaving the inside open just enough. Haechan takes it without hesitation, braking later and edging forward as they go side by side through the corner. For a second, it looks like the Alpine will hold him off, but Haechan keeps his car planted, forcing him wide on exit.

“Nicely done! That’s seventh!”

The camera shifts, showing the cars funneling through the first corners, the Red Bull slicing through cleanly.

The field begins to stretch out as the front row cars start pulling away, but the midfield is still clustered together, the gaps tight. Haechan is right in the middle of it, eyes fixed ahead, mind already calculating the next move.

“He���s closing in,” commentary picks up. “He’s looking for another place.”

His Red Bull is practically glued to the car in front, catching on the straights, losing slightly in the slower corners. He needs to be patient. The driver ahead knows he’s there. One wrong move could ruin everything.

Haechan waits. The dirty air makes the car slide slightly through the high-speed turn, but he corrects it instinctively. It doesn’t shake him. He’s done this a hundred times before.

And then it happens. A small mistake, a hesitation on the throttle, a loss of momentum. Haechan doesn’t wait.

“He’s making a move! Down the inside!”

You barely realize you’ve shifted forward, hands pressed together, breath held. The car ahead squeezes him, forcing him tighter to the inside line, but he holds firm, braking just late enough to slip ahead.

“He’s through! That’s P6 for Haechan!”

The cars behind him start to grow smaller in his mirrors.

Haechan doesn’t need confirmation. He can feel it in the clean air stretching ahead. The midfield is behind him now. No more defending. No more fighting for scraps.

Now, he hunts.

His race engineer’s voice crackles through the radio. “Gap to P5, 3.8 seconds. We’re in a good window. Start pushing.”

“Pace is strong,” the engineer comes back. “You’re faster than the cars ahead.”

Good.

The numbers on his wheel flicker, confirming what he already knows. The gap is shrinking.

Another lap. Another sector. Another second gone.

The laps start blending together.

From Haechan’s perspective, the race has settled for now. No fights, no wheel-to-wheel battles, just the steady determination of closing a gap.

“Gap to P5, 1.6 seconds,” his race engineer updates. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Jaehyun is right there.

Haechan doesn’t need an engineer telling him the gap. He can see the Ferrari ahead, steady, controlled, the same way it’s been all season. The same team that spent last year pushing him to the limit, waiting for him to crack.

But not this time.

Mathematically, Jaehyun is still in it. He’s over a hundred points behind, but as long as the title isn’t clinched today, he still has a chance. He’s holding on, dragging this battle out for as long as he can.

But Haechan isn’t interested in waiting.

His grip on the wheel tightens, the tension settling deep in his chest. The car is working under him, the balance just right. He doesn’t have to overthink it. He just has to keep closing.

"Gap to Jaehyun, 1.4 seconds," his race engineer says.

In the garage, your hands are pressed together, fingers locked tight, knuckles stiff. You’re not praying, but it feels close to it.

The energy around you is suffocating. No one is talking, no one is moving. The mechanics are barely breathing, eyes fixed on the monitors. You can’t take your eyes off the screen. The energy is different now. This isn’t just about moving up the order anymore. This is the championship fight, laid out in front of you, two cars, two drivers, one of them about to take everything. He’s the last obstacle, the only thing keeping this title fight alive.

If Haechan doesn’t get past him, it all drags on. Another race. Another chance for Jaehyun to claw his way back.

Jaehyun isn’t making this easy.

Haechan knew he wouldn’t. Even with the championship slipping out of reach, Jaehyun isn’t the type to roll over. He’s still fighting, still defending, still forcing Haechan to work for every inch of track.

"Gap to Jaehyun, 0.8," his engineer calls. "You’re in DRS range."

Finally.

The Ferrari stays planted through the high-speed corners, Jaehyun’s placing the car exactly where it needs to be. No mistakes. No wasted movement. Haechan is faster, but faster isn’t enough.

He closes in on the straight, opens the rear wing, gains a few meters, but Jaehyun moves first, covering the inside, forcing Haechan to think twice.

You hold your breath as the onboard flickers on the screen. He’s close, but not close enough. Not yet.

Haechan tucks in behind him, barely lifting through the next corner, tires screaming for grip.

He waits.

Another straight. Another chance.

This time, he moves first.

A sharp flick to the outside, forcing Jaehyun to react and he does. Just a small shift, a split second of hesitation, enough for Haechan to dive back inside.

Side by side.

You can hear the mechanics shout out in encouragement, elbows on their knees as they bend forward in anticipation, the tension hanging heavy in the air.

They brake late, almost too late, tires locking, fighting for control. Jaehyun holds the line, refusing to back down, squeezing Haechan toward the curb but he doesn’t flinch.

He keeps his foot in. Holds his nerve.

For a second, they’re wheel to wheel, neither giving an inch.

Dahyun reaches out for your hand, her grip tight and lips muttering, “Please, please, please don’t touch.”

Then just before the next turn, Haechan edges ahead.

"He’s through! Haechan takes P5 ahead of the Ferrari! It’s an uphill battle now, to make it to P2 and make sure Jaehyun stays behind him.”

Dahyun jumps a little next to you, letting out a cry of relief. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding too. But it isn’t over yet. Not until Haechan sets a solid gap between him and Jaehyun.

Jaehyun is still there, still in his mirrors, still waiting for a mistake. And for a second, Haechan almost expects him to fight back immediately, to dive into the next braking zone and throw everything at it.

But he doesn’t.

The Ferrari stays close, but not aggressive. Not reckless. He guesses that this is the biggest difference between Jaehyun and his teammate.

The radio crackles. "Nice work. Let’s pull away now. Next car, 3.4 seconds ahead. How are the tyres feeling?"

Haechan exhales slowly, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

“Starting to wear, but I can hang on for a few more laps. Tell me when the Mercs and Ferrari pit.”

"Copy. We’ll keep you updated," his engineer responds.

Haechan doesn’t say anything after that, eyes locked on the road ahead. The Ferrari and Mercedes up front are still running strong, but their tires are wearing just as fast as his. The undercut is coming. He just doesn’t know when.

He settles into his rhythm, stretching the gap behind him little by little. Jaehyun is fading in his mirrors now, not close enough to be a threat but still there, lingering just out of reach. 

The radio comes back a lap later. "Ferrari in the pits."

Haechan exhales sharply, eyes flicking toward the pit lane as Seungcheol peels off early. That’s aggressive. Too early for pure tire strategy.

"He’s playing the team game," his engineer confirms. "Seungcheol could be pitting now to put pressure on Jeno. Joshua might try to hold you up."

Not because Mercedes is helping Ferrari, but because Joshua is racing for himself.

Haechan tightens his grip on the wheel. That’s a problem.

Joshua isn’t just going to let him through. And if he stays out too long, Haechan will get stuck behind him, wasting his tires while Seungcheol gains time on fresh rubber. If Red Bull reacts too late, Haechan could come out of the pits behind both of them.

No. That’s not happening.

"Stay out. We’ll extend and cover the overcut," his engineer tells him. "Let’s push now."

Fine. He can push.

Joshua is just up the road, P3 still in his grasp, but the Mercedes is holding position, taking defensive lines. He knows Haechan is coming. And he’s not going to make it easy.

Haechan exhales slowly. So this is how it’s going to be?

Ahead, Jeno still holds P2 and Doyoung leads the race. The fight up front hasn’t started yet, but the midfield is already shifting. One mistimed stop, one second lost, and everything could flip.

The radio crackles again. "Seungcheol is on hards. Jaehyun’s pit right after him. Jeno and Doyoung are still out."

And every lap spent behind Joshua is a lap lost to Seungcheol.

"Gap to Seungcheol, 19.3 seconds," the engineer calls. "They’re warming up the hards, let’s get past Joshua now."

Yeah. He knows.

The next straight is coming up. He tucks in behind, inching closer, feeling the slipstream pull him forward. DRS open. The Mercedes shifts slightly left, not a full move, just enough to discourage a late lunge.

Haechan lifts. Backs off.

Not yet.

In the garage, you feel the frustration creeping in. He’s fast enough to take the position. But every attempt costs time, and the gap behind is closing.

"Seungcheol is matching our pace," the engineer updates.

You feel a little sick.

Haechan has to go now.

He knows it, too. The moment he brakes into the next corner, his mind is already on the next opportunity. Joshua is covering the inside. Fine.

Haechan sets up wide and gets a better exit. If Joshua wants to defend, he’ll have to do it twice.

The next straight comes up fast.

This time, he doesn’t wait.

A sharp flick to the right, making it look like he’s going for the outside. Joshua shifts, just slightly, just enough—

And Haechan dives left instead.

Inside line. No time to react.

They’re side by side.

Joshua holds his ground, braking as late as he dares, keeping the nose of the Mercedes alongside but Haechan is already there, already committed, tires squealing as he forces the car through the corner.

There’s barely any space, but it’s enough.

Joshua tries to hang on, but the exit is compromised. Haechan is already ahead before the next turn.

"He’s through! Haechan into P3!"

The mechanics start falling into position, wheeling out the tyres. 

"Box, box," the engineer calls immediately. "We cover the undercut now. Let’s go."

It takes Haechan a split second to process it, his hands already moving.

"Understood."

Haechan dives into the pit lane, the speed limiter kicking in as he barrels toward his box.

The Red Bull crew is already waiting. The stop is fast. Clean. The car drops, the mechanics move  and Haechan launches back out onto the track.

"Good stop. You’re rejoining P7, ahead of Jaehyun."

He exhales, gripping the wheel tighter. That was the first hurdle. But Jaehyun is still there, still a threat. If he gets caught behind traffic now, that gap could disappear in seconds.

Back in the garage, the tension is barely contained.

The screens flicker, cameras shifting between pit exits and live timing. You don’t blink, don’t move, don’t realize how shallow your breathing has become until your chest starts to ache.

By the time the pit cycle is completed, the cars ahead disappearing into the pits to get fresher tyres on, Haechan is back to P3. 

“Jeno is pitting ahead of you, that is P2. He’s been told to stay back, so he will not chase you.” His engineer informs him.

Haechan barely acknowledges the call. He sees the Red Bull peeling off to the right, diving into the pit lane just as he flies past, officially taking P2.

But he doesn’t feel any relief.

The heat is suffocating.

His race suit clings to his skin, drenched in sweat. His gloves feel heavier, his grip on the wheel tighter than it should be. His mouth is dry, but drinking won’t help—the liquid in his drink packet is already warm because of the heat of the engine. He presses the drink button anyways, cringing once the warm water hits his tongue. 

He blinks hard, forcing himself to focus.

"Jeno is rejoining now… P3, just ahead of Joshua."

Good. That’s good. Jeno held out just long enough to help, but not long enough to ruin his own race.

But Haechan can’t think about that right now.

His breathing is heavier, his body dragging against the weight of the car. His shoulders burn from holding the wheel steady through every turn and his entire body hurts. So much. The exhaustion from all the pushing he’s done until now hits him as he finally comes up to a safe position.

“Where is Jaehyun?” he asks, voice rough, eyes flicking to the lap board.

Lap 61.

Two more. Just two more and it’s done.

The radio crackles back. “P6. He’s not a threat.”

He exhales sharply, but it doesn’t feel like relief. Not yet.

In the garage, no one talks. No one moves. The only sound is the low hum of the monitors, the voices over the team radios, the distant roar of the cars.

Your nails dig into your palms, but you don’t even feel it anymore. Lap 61. Two more to go.

You glance sideways at Dahyun. Her hands are clasped so tightly together that her knuckles are white. She hasn’t spoken since the last pit stops, her usual excitement replaced with something quieter, more anxious.

She exhales sharply, almost a laugh, but it’s breathless. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

You don’t answer. Because so do you.

Over the course of the race, Haechan’s parents have come to stand near you two. His mother holds onto his dad. You think she’s praying.

The camera flickers to Haechan’s onboard. His hands are stiff on the wheel, no wasted movement, but you can see it now—the exhaustion. The way his shoulders don’t sit as steady. The way his breathing is heavier through the radio.

The commentators pick up on it, too.

"He’s done everything right today, but you can see the toll it’s taking now. The heat, the intensity, the pressure, it’s all hitting at once."

Dahyun shifts beside you, biting her lip. "Come on, Haechan," she mutters under her breath.

Lap 62. The last one

He’s almost there.

The moment the lap board flashes past, Haechan’s breathing quickens.

One more. Just one more.

Everything hurts. His arms feel leaden, his fingers ache from gripping the wheel too tightly, his head is pounding.

But the finish line is right there, only one lap away.

“Final lap, Haechan,” his engineer says, voice measured, but he knows they feel it too.

He barely acknowledges it, eyes locked on the road ahead. Doyoung is too far ahead to catch, and Jeno is holding P3. The positions won’t change. It’s just him and the track now.

The crowd is deafening, even through his helmet. He can see the lights flashing from the grandstands, the energy building as he weaves through the final corners.

In the garage, you can’t breathe.

He hasn’t crossed the line yet, but the mechanics are already getting up from their seats to run to the pitwall. There’s not much to go wrong here.

The numbers on the screens blur together, and everything else—the people around you, the cameras, the noise—fades into the background. It’s just him on the monitor, his car flying through the final sector, the realization slowly, finally sinking in.

Dahyun has stopped fidgeting, but her hands are still clasped so tightly together that it looks painful.

He’s almost there.

The final corners. The final turns.

You remember the moment you were told that you’d be his PR rep for this season. It wasn’t meant to be anything special. Just another job, another person to manage, another year of handling media schedules and press conferences. You weren’t supposed to care.

But then the season started.

And you watched him race. You watched the way he carried himself, the way he fought for every position like it was the only thing that mattered, the way he never let himself get too comfortable, the way he refused to believe it was his until the numbers made it undeniable.

You’ve seen him exhausted, frustrated, drowning under the pressure. You’ve heard him at his most bitter, his most doubtful, when he let the weight of it all slip through the cracks.

And you’ve watched him get back in the car every single time.

Now, he’s almost done it. World Champion.

You don’t even realize your fingers are trembling until the moment his car crosses the line.

“He’s done it! Haechan finishes second with Jaehyun at P5, and with that— Lee Haechan is the 2025 World Champion!” The commentator exclaims.

The garage erupts.

Mechanics leap into each other’s arms, engineers cheering into headsets, the pit wall exploding into celebration. Somewhere behind you, someone is yelling, but all you can do is stare at the monitor, at the car with number 66 rolling past the checkered flag.

Dahyun lets out something between a laugh and a sob, hands flying to her mouth before she hugs you tightly. You swallow hard as you hug her back, unable to hold back the grin on your face. It’s an overwhelming kind of relief, not sharp, not explosive, just deep, sinking into your bones, settling in the way you hadn’t let yourself feel until now.

The crowd outside is deafening.

The cheers flood through Haechan’s radio. His engineer’s voice cracks with emotion. Someone from the pit wall is already yelling his name.

But all Haechan does is exhale.

His hands are still locked on the wheel. His arms are trembling, his body aching in ways he doesn’t have the energy to acknowledge yet.

It’s over.

And all he can think about is how long it’s taken.

Every year, every setback, every time he thought he was close only to watch it slip away. Every grueling season where it felt like no matter how hard he tried, it was never enough.

But this time, it was.

His vision blurs—not from exhaustion, not from sweat—just pure, overwhelming relief.

He breathes in. Breathes out. 

Sees the World Champion board where there should’ve been a P2 in parc fermé. 

When he parks, he finally lets go of the steering wheel, slumping into his seat. 

Jeno is the first to walk over, patting his helmet, his voice muffled but warm. Haechan barely processes it, only catching fragments—"Proud of you, man." Doyoung bends down next, saying something he can’t quite comprehend. The words don’t matter. He knows what they mean.

He nods, hands shaking as he reaches up, pulling off his gloves, his helmet, his balaclava. The rush of cooler air hitting his face is almost dizzying.

The moment he’s free of it, his eyes lift toward the barrier.

His team is there. All of them.

The mechanics, the engineers, the people who have been with him through every season, every late-night debrief, every painful loss. His mother, standing close to his father, hands pressed together as if she can barely believe it. His sister, bouncing on her heels, already reaching over the barrier.

And you.

Haechan doesn’t think. Doesn’t stop.

He moves on instinct, throwing himself out of the cockpit, barely registering his own exhaustion as his legs hit the ground.

And then, he runs.

Straight to them.

The second he reaches the barrier, the arms are already there, grabbing, pulling, holding. Someone ruffles his hair, someone yells his name, but he barely registers who is who. He just knows that this is his team, his people, and they’re all here.

Dahyun is the first to properly reach him, throwing her arms around him, squeezing tight. His mother is next, her hand cradling the side of his face for half a second before she pulls him in. His father’s grip is firm when he hugs him, yelling into his ears that he is proud, so proud.

He barely has time to think before another set of arms wrap around him, yours.

His breath catches for just a second. He can feel how tightly you’re holding on, how solid you feel against him despite how hard everything is still hitting him.

He shuts his eyes for just a moment.

It’s real. It’s over.

And he’s really won.

—

Monday, Post Race October 6th

12:05 AM

The dressing room is quiet.

For the first time in hours, there’s no noise, no cameras, no voices in his ear. Just the hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of his team still celebrating downstairs.

Haechan sits on the small bench, head tilted back against the lockers, eyes shut. His whole body aches, the exhaustion hitting now that the adrenaline has fully worn off. 

His damp hair sticks to his forehead and he can still smell the champagne on his race suit that he’s abandoned in a corner of the room. The shower did make him feel better, washing away the litres of champagne that he’d been doused in. His clothes, a normal t-shirt and sweats, feel so much lighter on him after hours of being in the sweat-soaked, heavy race suit. 

The door creaks open.

He knows it’s you before you say anything.

You step inside, letting the door click shut behind you. 

“You’re here,” he murmurs after a moment, voice rough with exhaustion.

“Your parents are waiting downstairs,” you say softly. “I told them I’d check on you first.”

His lips twitch slightly, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Checking to see if I passed out in here?”

“Something like that.”

You cross the room without hesitating, sinking down beside him. He doesn’t move, but when you lift a hand and press it gently against his back, you feel him lean into your touch, his shoulders losing the last bit of tension he’d been holding onto.

For a moment, you just sit there, your hand tracing slow, absentminded circles between his shoulder blades. The weight of the day still lingers in the air, but this moment feels different. Quieter, softer, just the two of you.

You let out a small breath, glancing at him. “You did it.”

His eyes flutter open, meeting yours.

“I did,” he says, barely above a whisper, like he hasn’t fully let himself believe it yet.

A small smile tugs at your lips as your hand moves up to the nape of his neck, raking through his hair. He hasn’t cut it since the first day you met him.

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

He watches you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

“Sunday,” He finally answers. You hum, a little confused.

“I told you we’ll talk on Sunday.”

You still. It had been the last thing on your mind during the race, so you’re a tiny bit surprised when he brings it up. You breathe in deeply before meeting his eyes and letting out a small laugh.

“Well, World Champion, I don’t know if you know, but it’s Monday now.”

Haechan shakes his head, turning his body to face you. “No, I know. But—” He cuts off, throwing his head back before he reaches out for your hands, “Hold on, I’ve kind of rehearsed this, but I’ve never done this before so give me a moment.”

You blink, a laugh escaping you as he stumbles over his words. “Rehearsed it? Haechan, what are you—”

“I just…” He takes a breath, looking at you with a sort of quiet, soft determination. “Okay, here goes.” He squeezes your hands lightly, his fingers warm against yours. “I’m not good with words, you know that. But I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and I—I just need you to know…” He hesitates, and for a split second, his confidence falters.

You watch him, waiting. Despite knowing what’s coming, you can’t help the way your heart races. You feel breathless for a moment.

“I like you,” he says finally, his voice steady despite the nervousness in his eyes. “I like you more than I ever meant to. More than I’ve ever let myself admit.”

The simplicity of his confession knocks the breath out of you. He’s not asking for anything, not trying to pressure you, but it’s clear he’s laying everything out there, raw and open.

“I didn’t expect this. Didn’t think it would be this important, but it is. And I need you to know that,” he adds softly, his grip tightening just a little on your hands as though he’s grounding himself in the moment.

He waits for you to say something, but the words get stuck. Your mind races, and all you can do is stare at him.

Haechan’s brow furrows slightly, unsure of your silence. “You don’t have to—”

“No,” you interrupt, your voice soft but steady as you squeeze his hand. “I’m just… surprised. I mean- I’m not, because you’re not very subtle about it. I just didn’t expect you to say it today, you know, after all that’s happened. But I—” You swallow, the truth coming to your lips before you can think. “I like you too.”

You can see the relief flood his face, his shoulders relaxing as though he's been holding his breath. But then, a playful grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Well, I think I knew too,” he jokes, the tension in his voice lifting with the teasing. “I mean, it wasn’t exactly hard to tell…”

You blink, surprised by the shift in his tone. “You’re a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Just a little,” he grins back, his eyes lighting up with that familiar spark as he shifts closer to you. “You know back there, after I got out of the car, I thought you’d go all WAG mode and kiss me on my helmet or something.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your hands away from him, making him laugh, “Oh, so I’m a WAG now? You know I'm really professional. So I’d never do that. In public too? Forget it.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining ‘cause I wouldn’t mind,” Haechan shrugs, “You should do it sometimes.”

You give him an exaggerated look of disbelief, but the warmth spreading through you makes it harder to stay serious. “You really think I would?”

“I’m just saying, it’d be a really nice surprise,” he says, his voice lowering, the teasing fading into something more sincere.

You hesitate for a moment, the playfulness still hanging in the air. And then, before you even fully process it, you lean forward, your hand finding the back of his neck. Haechan’s eyes widen slightly, but before he can react, you close the gap between you, pressing your lips to his softly, with a tenderness that’s more than just a playful kiss.

You can feel the warmth of him, his body moving ever so slightly toward yours, his hand sliding to your waist, fingers gently curling around you, anchoring you to him. The world outside this little bubble of yours fades into the background. Haechan’s lips slot perfectly between yours. He still tastes like champagne. You’re not particularly fond of it, but for him, you think you could make an exception.

 His hand slides up to your cheek, fingers brushing against the soft skin there as he tilts his head just slightly, deepening the kiss. You feel his pulse against yours, a rhythm that matches the way your heart begins to race, each beat a little faster, a little louder. 

When you finally pull away, your lips still humming from the closeness, Haechan’s forehead rests against yours, his breath a little quicker than before, as though he’s still coming back to reality. You can’t help but smile softly, feeling something in you settle, like a weight being lifted.

“Was that surprising enough for you?” you murmur, your voice just above a whisper.

His smile stretches slowly, like he’s trying to still comprehend. “Definitely.”

The two of you stay silent for a moment, processing and acknowledging whatever just happened when Haechan speaks up again, “But… just for the surprise to hit harder you could do it again.”

You huff out a quiet laugh, shaking your head, but before you can even think of a reply, he tugs you just a little closer, his lips brushing against yours again—lighter this time, but just as sure.

WINTER BREAK

December 21st

You hadn’t meant to spill the news to your mother this soon. It had just sort of… happened.

You had been on the phone with her one evening, catching up like you always did when you were both too busy to visit in person. She had been asking about work, about life, about whether you were eating properly, when she had casually slipped in, “So, are you seeing anyone?”

And because you hadn’t really been thinking, half-focused on something on your laptop, you had answered honestly.

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence. Then a distinct shift in her tone, lighter, curious. “Oh?”

Your stomach had flipped. There had been no taking it back now.

“Yeah,” you had said again, slower this time, as if easing yourself into the reality of this conversation.

“Since when?”

You had hesitated, glancing at the calendar on your desk. “A little while now.”

“And when were you planning on telling me?”

You had exhaled through your nose, already hearing the teasing smile in her voice. “Eventually?”

She laughed. “Eventually. Right.” A pause, then, “Well? Who is he?”

You had bitten your lip, then said, “Haechan.”

Silence.

Then, after a few seconds, a sharp inhale. “As in your Haechan?”

You had winced. “Yeah.”

“As in the same Haechan I see on TV? The same one you’ve been working with this season?”

“Yeah.”

She had let out an incredulous laugh, clearly caught off guard. “And when exactly did this happen?”

You had hesitated, because when had it happened, really? There had been no defining moment, no grand realization, just a steady shift, an unshakable pull toward something you had probably always known was there.

“It wasn’t all at once,” you had admitted. “It just… made sense.”

Your mom had hummed like she was turning that over in her mind. “Well,” she had said eventually, “if it’s serious enough for you to tell me, you should bring him home for dinner.”

Your breath had hitched. “What?”

She had repeated it like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Bring him home. If you care about him, we’d like to meet him properly.”

You had swallowed. You hadn’t thought this far ahead, hadn’t considered when or how you’d introduce him to your family. Not because you hadn’t been sure about him—you had, you really had—but because the idea of sitting at that table with him, of merging two parts of your life that had always been separate, had made everything feel so real.

But… wasn’t that the point?

You had let out a slow breath. “I’ll ask him.”

Your mom had chuckled knowingly. “Good. Let me know when.”

You don’t bring it up right away.

It’s not that you’re nervous about his reaction—you know he’ll say yes. But when you finally mention it, just a casual, “My mom wants you to come over for dinner,” he still pauses for half a second longer than usual.

Then he blinks. “Dinner? Like, ‘sit at the table, be on my best behavior, answer your dad’s questions’ dinner?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Haechan leans back, tilting his head at you. “So, just to clarify, there’s no ‘pretend you don’t know me and let me sneak out the back’ option?”

“Nope.”

He exhales dramatically, rubbing his hands over his face. “Alright, then. What do I call them? Should I be formal? Or do I go straight to ‘Mom and Dad’ to establish dominance?”

You snort. “If you do that, my dad might actually kick you out.”

“Got it. Saving that for the second dinner.”

You shake your head, watching as he stretches his arms over his head before finally settling back against the cushions. For all his joking, you can tell he’s actually thinking about it. He’s always been quick to roll with things, but this feels like something he’s mentally preparing himself for.

After a beat, he glances at you again, quieter now. “You want me there?”

“Yeah,” you say, just as soft. “I do.”

He holds your gaze for a second before nodding, more certain now. “Alright.”

—

Dinner passes in a comfortable blur.

Haechan is nervous at first. You can tell by the way he sits up a little too straight, the way his fingers drum lightly against his thigh as if he’s reminding himself to stay composed. But as the meal goes on, the warmth of your home eases him in. Your mom fusses over his plate, your dad throws in the occasional dry joke, and Rina’s teasing keeps him engaged. By the time the table is cleared and your mom waves you both off with a “Go relax, I’ve got this,” Haechan follows you upstairs looking much more at ease.

Your childhood room is just as you left it. Familiar, unchanging, a space to return to whenever you visit. You can hear Rina’s Frank Sinatra album playing through the walls. You remember when Rina was still small enough to curl up beside you on lazy afternoons, insisting you play music for her. You remember the way she’d hum along, her voice soft and uncertain, trying to match the notes, how she’d giggle whenever she stumbled over the lyrics. It takes you back to being seventeen, to the quiet comfort of these walls, the long stretches of time where it felt like nothing would ever really change.

But then your eyes land on Haechan as he steps inside, and the memory settles into something different. Not quite distant, but no longer the world you live in.

Seventeen was a lifetime ago. Before flights and paddocks, before conferences and championship fights. Before Haechan.

And yet, here he is, standing in the middle of it all like he belongs. Like there’s room for him here, too.

Because there is, You think fondly.

You watch as his eyes scan the space, gaze moving from the overstuffed bookshelf to the small collection of stuffed animals still tucked into the corner of your bed. He lingers on the little trinkets lining your desk, a few old keychains, a white dreamcatcher from a school trip years ago, a cup of dried-out gel pens you never threw away. It’s a time capsule, a version of you he never got to know.

But it’s the photos on your wall that really draw him in.

He moves closer, his fingers hovering near them but never quite touching. There’s one of you at five, or six maybe, in a navy blue sweatshirt with your hands cupping your cheeks as you smile so wide your eyes disappear. 

Haechan lets out a quiet laugh, turning towards your figure, flopped on your bed. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You were actually the cutest kid alive.”

You grin. “It’s one of my favourite pictures of me too, honestly.”

He nods, but instead of moving on, he lifts his phone and takes a picture. You don’t notice, too lost in the comfort of your bed, the warmth of the moment.

Haechan doesn’t say anything either. Just tucks his phone away and keeps looking, his gaze flicking over another photo from a class trip, where you and your friends are grinning wildly, arms slung around each other. A few graduation photos, one with your parents standing proudly on either side of you, another with Rina making a face behind your shoulder.

You watch as Haechan’s gaze lingers on the framed family photo that sits on your desk, his fingers hovering over the glass like he’s memorizing every detail. There’s something unreadable in his expression, not quite wistful, not quite sad, but thoughtful in a way that makes you want to say something before he gets lost in it.

“That was taken after dinner at my grandma’s house,” you tell him, shifting so you can see it from where you’re sprawled on the bed. “We almost didn’t get a picture because Rina kept running off to play. My dad had to bribe her with extra dessert to get her to stay still.”

Haechan huffs out a quiet laugh at that, his lips quirking up slightly. “I should’ve guessed.”

You nod toward the frame. “It’s one of my favorites too.”

He tilts his head, still staring at it. “I get why.” Then, after a beat, he exhales and glances at you, hesitating for just a second before saying, “This might be a little forward, but… I kind of wish we knew each other before. Like, what if I could’ve been one of those people in your class photos, or—”

“You would have driven me insane,” you interrupt, glancing at him.

Haechan lets out a laugh, tilting his head. “Oh, really?”

You nod, leaning back against your bed. “Absolutely. You would’ve been the kid who never sat still, who found new ways to annoy me every day, who somehow convinced me to break all the rules.”

He smirks, nudging your knee with his. “Sounds like we would’ve had fun.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe.”

Haechan hums, studying your expression for a moment before murmuring, “Still wish I was there.”

The words settle between you, soft but heavy.

You’d never really thought about before. About how your life would have looked if he had been there earlier.

But now, as he sits beside you, fingers tracing the edge of an old photograph, you can’t help but picture it.

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years old. Would he have been the boy who stole your notes in class? The one who passed you secret messages during exams just to make you roll your eyes? The one who always found a way to drag you into trouble, just so he could laugh at how flustered you got?

You exhale, suddenly aware of how fast your heart is beating.

Would you have fallen for him faster?

You sit up properly now, meeting his gaze, searching for something in it that you already know is there.

“I think you would’ve fit right in,” you say quietly.

Haechan’s lips curve into a small, almost shy smile, and he nods once, like he’s tucking the thought away for later. He looks back at the photo as he sits next to you. You take his hand in yours, gently rubbing the back of his palm with your thumb.

“Maybe next time, I’ll get to be in one.”

You squeeze his hand, “You will be.”

The two of you settle into an almost comfortable silence when the music from Rina’s room catches your attention.

"There is nothing for me but to love you… and the way you look tonight."

Haechan’s head tilts slightly, a slow, knowing grin creeping onto his lips as he turns to you. “Well, that’s convenient.”

You groan, already feeling the warmth rising to your cheeks. “Oh, come on. Don’t.”

His grin widens. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.”

He shrugs, leaning just a little closer. “I mean… if the music insists.”

You smack his arm, but he only laughs before resting his head on your shoulder. 

—

December 23rd

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Haechan pauses, one hand still adjusting a silver bauble on the tree. He turns to you with an incredulous look. “How can I possibly be doing it wrong?”

“You’re clustering all the ornaments in one spot,” you say, pointing at the lopsided section he’s been working on. “It’s all too heavy on that side.”

He scoffs. “Excuse me for trying to create a focal point.”

“It’s not a gallery wall, it’s a Christmas tree.”

“Same concept.”

You roll your eyes and get up from his couch, stumbling a little over all the boxes on the floor. He flinches, rushing forward to catch you. You don’t fall, but you end up in his arms anyway. You reach to move one of the ornaments, but he swats your hand away. “Nope, decoration rights revoked,” he declares. 

You stare at him in disbelief, eyes falling on the hand that swatted you away before moving to the one around your waist. “Hello? You can’t do that.”

“I absolutely can. My tree, my artistic vision.”

You give him a deadpan look. “I was the one who convinced you to get a tree in the first place. Otherwise, your house would just be sad and lifeless. I chose the tree too!” rolling your eyes, you continue, “Besides, your artistic vision looks like it got tired halfway through and took a nap.”

Haechan gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve personally offended him. “Okay, that was uncalled for.”

You bite back a grin as you place a red bauble exactly where he had just moved it from, making him groan in protest.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters. “I let you into my house, I let you touch my Christmas tree, and this is how you treat me?”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” You narrow your eyes at him, “Get your hands off me then!”

Haechan doesn’t even hesitate. “No.” He smirks, fingers curling a little tighter around your waist. “I won’t. What are you gonna do about it?”

You open your mouth, then close it, then sigh in defeat. “Nothing,” you mutter.

“That’s what I thought.” He grins, rocking you both slightly where you stand. The Christmas lights cast a warm glow over his face, and for a moment, neither of you move. He’s looking at you, not in the teasing, smug way he usually does, but in that softer, quieter way that always makes your chest feel too full.

Then you sigh, glancing at the half-decorated tree. “We’re decorating way too late.”

Haechan groans in agreement. “I know. If we started earlier, this wouldn’t be so stressful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, whose fault is that?”

He blinks at you. “Not mine? I won both championships before December. It’s not my fault they don’t let us go until all the races are over. Blame the F1 calendar instead!”

You sigh, relenting. “Okay, fine. It’s the calendar’s fault.”

“Thank you.” He grins, rocking back on his heels. “Finally, some sense.”

You shake your head with a laugh, nudging his shoulder before turning back to the tree. “Still, if we started earlier, we wouldn’t be scrambling to finish before Christmas.”

Haechan hums in agreement, reaching for another ornament. “Guess we just have to get better at this whole off-season thing.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “We?”

Haechan nods, his gaze flickering to you for a moment before he looks back at the tree. “Yeah,” he says simply, looping an ornament onto a branch. “We. We are quite good during the season, don't you think?”

He hooks another ornament onto a branch, “Oh, by the way, there’s fruitcake on the kitchen counter.”

You pause, your hand holding an ornament in mid-air and turn to look at him. “Oh?”

He nods, adjusting a light on the tree. “Yeah.”

You frown slightly. “But… you don’t like fruitcake.”

Haechan shrugs like it’s nothing. “Yeah, but you do.”

You frown slightly, touched by the gesture, “How do you know that?”

Haechan glances at you, lips curving up. “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Oh, please. When have I ever mentioned liking fruitcake?”

He hums, stepping back to take a look at the tree, “I think it was in Budapest. Jeno was talking about how he got sick from eating fruitcake off season.”

You laugh, pleasantly surprised that he remembered that.

“As much as I love fruitcake, it’s definitely not the best thing to have in any month other than December,” You admit, “Also, you really have to get the right ones. Some are loaded with too many spices, some are too greasy… I’d never complain about having too many nuts or fruit but I guess people wouldn’t like that either.”

His laughter is light as he lets his forehead rest against yours, his hands slipping to your waist. The tree lights flicker in the corner of your vision, a warm golden colour. They remind you of Haechan. 

“This is kind of the last thing I expected getting into this year,” he murmurs after a beat.

You blink, the playfulness between you both settling into something more serious and heartfelt. “What? Decorating a tree with me?”

His fingers drum lightly against your hip. “More like all of this. Us.”

You exhale, nudging your nose against his. “Yeah,” you admit. “Me too.”

Haechan hums, thoughtful. “I mean, if you told me at the start of the season that I’d win both championships and have you here at the end of it, I would’ve laughed in your face.”

You tilt your head. “Oh? What part was more unbelievable?”

“The championships, obviously.” He grins, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “You? I think at one point it just became obvious that you were inevitable.”

Your stomach flips, but before you can even think of a response, he reaches past you, placing the star in your hands.

“Go on, then.”

You eye him suspiciously. “No catch?”

He shakes his head. “Never.”

You glance at him again, making sure before standing on your tiptoes to place the star at the top. As you adjust it, Haechan’s hands settle at your waist again, steadying you without a word.

Once you step back, the tree finally completed, he lets out a satisfied hum. “Not bad.”

You turn around to look at him.

He looks back at you, tilting his head, a smile playing on his lips before he leans down

The first time you met Haechan, he barely spared you more than a glance, too caught up in the frustration of strategies and a season that hadn’t even begun. 

Now, Haechan kisses you like it’s second nature, like he’s done it a hundred times before and will do it a hundred times more.

His lips move against yours with a quiet sort of certainty, like he’s memorized exactly how to kiss you. Not rushed, not hesitant, just sure. His hands slide up, fingertips pressing into your back to bring you closer, and when you splay your fingers across the fabric of his sweater, you feel the way his heartbeat kicks up under your touch.

He exhales softly against your lips before kissing you again, deeper this time, slower. The world narrows down to the quiet press of his mouth, the steady warmth of his touch, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingering between you. You can feel it in the way he holds you that this isn't something that will slip away.

And then, just for a second, it’s like standing on the grid, the air electric, the whole world holding its breath.

Just before the countdown. Before lights out.

tagging: @yukisroom97 @awktwurtle

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Ten

Summary: Throwing a baby shower for your best friend should be fun but of course it wouldn't be you if something didn't happen to ruin it. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 3.7k~ (Shorter than the last chapter but it was at a good stopping point) Warnings: An argument and a little angst. A little bit of suggestive/almost sexual content but yeah lol a/n: So a bit of a time skip after the last chapter since I want the story to progress a little bit more but yeah...enjoy! p.s. Barely edited and I kinda decided last minute to post this but yeah lol Start from the beginning

"Jina?" Jungkook calls out for her from the backyard.

"Yeah dad?" she asks, coming out of the kitchen and walking over to him, seeing how he's struggling with the placement of the 'Baby in Bloom' banner.  

"Is this high enough?" having gotten one side secure but unsure as to how far apart or how high to put the other.

"A little to the left, up, up, up, stop! That's perfect" she says making his whole form tense up before reaching for the piece of tape he had pulled out for it. 

"Thanks dad" she smiles softly and he nods. "I want this to be perfect for you and the little one" he says softly, her placing his hand on her stomach when she feels her moving inside. 

"I think Jangmi's a fan" she chuckles and Jungkook's smile is too beautiful not to document.

They both hear a soft click from the camera I've been carrying around to take pictures of the flower themed bridal shower for Jina and her little one.

"I'm sorry, I just had to" I give them both a soft smile and show them the image on the digital screen. "Thank you" Jina says and mirrors my smile and I nod. "Of course" I respond but before either of us can say anything else the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it" I say and head to the front door where I can already hear the buzz of conversation on the other side. 

"Hi! Oh my gosh it's been so long since we've seen you!" a group of girls we had gone to college with come piling in, each of them saying something to that effect to me while they walk in, giving me a short hug while I direct them to the backyard where most of the party decorations have been put up.

Seems from their reactions that Jina hasn't poisoned them against me which is comforting. Although I can see a hint of confusion along with pity laced in their greetings, seeing as though the last time they had been here was for my engagement party.

I hover near the door, ready to greet everyone for Jina so she can enjoy being outside and mingling instead and soon Jungkook has found his way back over to me.

"You're a pretty good host" he says, placing a hand on my waist from behind before pressing a quick kiss to my temple. "I haven't hosted many parties before but I'm glad you think so" I turn back to look up at him, opening the door for the next couple of girls that walk in.

"Who are they?" he whispers in my ear, faces he doesn't recognize in the slightest. "Either friends she's made since we graduated or coworkers" I whisper back, giving them a welcoming smile and gesturing towards the backdoor where a mix of many different excitable conversations are coming from. 

It seems as though after a final trio has walked in the guest list has been completed since Jina sticks her head in and waves for us to come back outside. 

The backyard is now full of friends, old and new as well as a few members of Jungkook's side of the family, namely his mom and a few of his aunts.

Yes it was awkward to be reintroduced to them as his girlfriend. Yes they're still glancing over at us anytime we get close to one another. And yes I can tell there are mixed reviews.

Something in me though tells me that his mom can see that we're happy together although I'm sure the age gap is going to be a hurdle for anyone to jump over.

"Seeing how your family reacted makes me worried to tell mine" yes, we still haven't told anyone in my family about us.

"It might be a bit of a shock to them but they'll come around" he says softly and kisses the top of my head, hoping to ease my nerves but as long as his family and mine are uncertain about us I don't think I'll be able to truly relax. 

Or at least until we tell them.

Jina claps her hands together a few times to get everyone's attention and announces that the baby shower games are about to begin and I walk over to help her but he pulls me back and cups my face. 

"I love you" those three words from him are the thing that makes all this uncertainty worth it. This mess of emotions, heartbreak and betrayal have all lead up to this. Having him say those three words to me are something I never knew I needed so much.

"I love you" I reply shyly, closing my eyes when he places a kiss on my forehead before he nods towards Jina. "She needs you" he says softly and I look back and see how she's trying to decide on which game to go with first, a deep frown on her face and so I head over to help her sort things out. Essentially taking on the master of ceremonies role so she can enjoy herself.

~~~~

After the games are done and everyone has eaten to their heart's content we sit down to watch Jina open her presents.

Cooing and cheering are the reactions that come out as the various baby items are revealed, each one even cuter than the last. 

Moments later I hear a rather loud car pull up with music blaring, giving me a pit in my stomach making me immediately turn towards Jungkook, my hands slightly shaking.

He can tell who it is right away but luckily with the 'ooos' and 'awws' from the group of girls Jina hasn't noticed. 

"I'll take care of it" he says softly but I shake my head, "I'm coming with you" I say and before he's able to convince me otherwise I'm already halfway out the door, faced with the devil himself walking up our driveway.

"Heard my ex girl is throwing a baby shower for my baby mama. How quaint" Jared says, his cocky, smug smile is one I wish I could claw off of his face. I can feel how Jungkook is poised to step in whenever I deem fit but he knows I can handle him myself. 

"Ah, so I see she got you on a leash" he chuckles but Jungkook shrugs in response. "At least she cared enough to put a collar on me" he replies, his heir of giving zero fucks about whatever insults Jared might try to throw his way has me turned on a lot more than I'd like to admit.

Jared catches the shine that the delicate 'JK' charm  on my necklace casts and I can see a muscle feather in his jaw.

"What are you even doing here Jared?" his name tasting like poison on my lips.

"This is a baby shower for my baby mama and my little baby girl so I have every right to be here" he says, his try at staking his claim just makes him sound like a little boy, crying to his mom about getting a toy that he wants.

"Baby showers aren't for men. You weren't invited" I say and he clearly glances up at Jungkook to counter my argument but he knows it's pitiful at best and the look I give him is response enough. 

"Look, can I just talk to you? Alone?" Jared asks, revealing his true motive for being here since he's cracked under pressure within minutes of being here. 

"I have nothing I want to say to you and I have even less of an interest of being alone with you. Ever" giving emphasis to the last word, backing up a few steps to where Jungkook is, him placing a possessive hand on my waist.

"You know, I always thought you were naïve but I never thought you'd whore yourself out to the first man who gave you even a single shred of sympathy when you had your heart broken" he spits out and Jungkook snaps, his fist clashing with Jared's jaw. 

"Fuck!" Jared chokes out, coughing and on all fours, his world spinning with a single punch. I walk up to him and lean down, tilting my head an catching his furious glare. 

"What was that you said about a leash?" I chuckle and when he tries to say something else Jungkook kicks him in the stomach, the wind knocked out of him as he gasps for breath. 

"Try it" Jungkook says, egging Jared on but he quickly scrambles to his feet and spits off to the side to get rid of the blood in his mouth. "I could sue you!" Jared says but Jungkook scoffs, "I know the full extent of the law boy" he says, talking down to him and Jared's brows furrow, having forgotten the fact that he is an attorney.

"Then you know that means I could get you thrown in jail for this" he counters, practically shaking in his boots. "Which further proves that I know how to get around it" Jungkook says, shaking out his hand for a second. 

Jared winces as he tries to grind his teeth, cradling one side of his face with his hand, his fiery glare poised to kill if possible, aimed straight at Jungkook. 

"Go home" I say to Jared, his eyes coming back to me where again Jungkook is standing by my side, Jungkook's eyes in contrast are cool, calm but sharp, one wrong move ending with Jarred tied up in so much legal litigation he might as well take a plea bargain before even getting caught. 

When he tries to open his mouth again to say some thing I repeat myself, emphasizing both words until Jared realizes he's lost this round. 

But let's face it...he's never going to win. 

We'll just have to wait and see how stupid he is and how long it's going to take him to figure that out.

Once Jared speeds away in his shitty car that matches his equally shitty personality I turn to Jungkook and grab his right hand immediately.

"You're hurt" I mutter, assessing the bruising, swollen fist that he stretching out, a couple of the knuckles busted. 

"I'm fine darling, nothing a little ice can't fix" he says, cupping my face with his other hand after smoothing out the crease between my brows. He tilts my chin up to get my attention off fussing over him, distracting me from what Jared had said.

"Are you okay?" he says softly, looking in my eyes and showing that what Jared said couldn't be remotely true and I know that, deep down and at surface level I do but it doesn't make it hurt any less. 

I haven't let Jina or Jared's words get to me ever since everything happened but if I don't process it all soon I feel like I might snap, and the person I would snap at would probably be Jungkook.

"I'm sorry" I say, looking to the side and blinking back the angry tears that I feel are starting to fall. Angry at them, at myself, at everything. 

"I wanted this to be a day about Jina and I'm trying really hard to compartmentalize it so I can be happy for her but-" I cut myself off with a sob, covering my mouth to muffle the next.

Jungkook pulls me in, not telling me to stop crying, not saying anything at all. He knows I need time to ride this out since I usually stop it as soon as it starts.

I'm trying to mend the bridge between Jina and I and although things will never be the same I don't want him to feel like he has to choose between me or his daughter. Having her around more, seeing her pregnant and happy again has hit something in me that I didn't realize I had been missing. 

If things had been different maybe that would've been me.

If Jared was a different man, a man of respect and integrity then maybe I would've been the one expecting. Happily married and bringing a life into this world that was a symbol of the love I shared with my husband.

I don't want Jared. 

Not in the slightest but I guess I truly haven't morned the life that I thought I was going to have. 

One where I was happy and ready to share my relationship with everyone I know. 

One that people wouldn't judge at a moment's glance. 

One that would be accepted, celebrated even. 

One I didn't feel the need to hide from the ones that I love.

"Hey" Jungkook says softly, pulling back and cupping my face, feeling a shift in my cries, the tears I'm shedding different now. 

"You know I love you right?" he says, cupping my face again with both hands, wiping away the tears that haven't stopped but I nod weakly, my bottom lip jutting out as I try to choke back the sobs.

"And you know that no matter what I want you to be happy" I nod again and look up at him this time. 

"If this is too much for you I understand" he says, his eyes now changing, the way his brows are pinched together as if what he's saying pains him but he's forcing it out for my wellbeing. 

"No. No don't you say things like that!" I shake my head and pull away from him. "You don't get to say things like that because you think you know what's best for me"

"I was just-"

"No! If you can't handle this then fine but you do not get to make this decision for me" I say, my tears going from angry, to sorrowful, to heartbroken again. 

He takes a step closer but I take one back. 

"Tell Jina I'm sorry" I say and walk into the backyard, hiding away from the guests inside and going to that same clearing I had found months ago to process, not thinking that this time he would be one of the reasons for my tears.

~~~

The background noise of laughter and conversation soon dies down and I'm left alone with my thoughts, but when I hear a twig snap behind me I know my time of solitude has ran out.

"I don't want to hear it Jungkook" I say over my shoulder. 

"He told me what happened" Jina says, her voice catching me off guard, making me jump.

I wipe the now dried up tears off my face as though it would make me more presentable, my eyes no doubt a bloodshot red.

"I'm sorry" I mumble, hugging myself foolishly trying to keep the summer night chill away but a warmth is draped around my shoulders, her having brought out one of Jungkook's oversized coats for me which I accept, his scent bringing me comfort even if at this point I'm too scared to face him. 

"The girls were all raving about the party. Saying you did an amazing job with the theme and everything" she says, distracting from the true reason she came out here. 

"I hope I didn't distract you from the party" I apologize, feeling as though my dramatic exit from the short lived argument might've been observed from the inside.

"You didn't. I mean we were wondering where you had disappeared to but my dad just said you weren't feeling well and wanted the rest of us to keep having fun" she says, making me feel a little bad but I know that wasn't her intention.

"I know I fucked up...and I know you'll probably never trust me again. But if you ever need anything or want to talk...?" she trails off and I nod and utter a quiet thanks under my breath. 

"Maybe we shouldn't host parties here anymore...seems like this house is cursed" she makes a weak attempt at a joke and I hum, not really reachable at the moment. 

"My dad and I took care of cleaning up so if you want to go back inside now the place is back to normal" I nod again and she lets out a bit of a disheartened sigh.

"Thank you for the party, it really meant a lot to me" she says the last part a little bit softer and I turn around to look at her, not wanting her to think that I'm angry at her because truthfully I'm not.

"I'm glad you had a good time" I say and give her a sad smile which she takes as a small win. "Get home safe" I add and she says a quick thanks as well and takes her leave moments later but pauses just at the edge of the clearing and turns back.

"You guys are good together, and I can tell you really love him" she says, words I never thought I'd hear from her. 

"I do" my voice breaking and she nods, returning the sad smile I had given her just moments ago.

"I'm never calling you mom though" she jokes making me let out a halfhearted chuckle. 

"My dad says stupid stuff sometimes thinking he knows best but don't let it get to you" she says and when I try to say something she gives me a knowing look. 

"That's something you're gonna have to deal with while being with an older man" she chuckles and walks off, leaving me alone again with my thoughts.

~~~~

Ten or so minutes pass by before I decide it's cold enough to face going back inside.

When I walk in through the sliding glass door I see him sitting on the couch, waiting up for me. 

"If you stayed out there much longer I probably would've sent out a search party" his tone playful and I hum, sitting on one of the armchairs facing the couch.

"I shouldn't have sprung that on you while you were already feeling vulnerable. That was a bad call on my side" he admits, getting straight to the point. 

"It just hurts that you think my love for you is so fickle" I say softly and he immediately kneels in front of me, taking my hands in his. 

"I don't doubt your love for me. I see it every time you look at me. Your eyes, your smile, your body language are all very honest and show me just how much you care but I just feel as though being with me is a burden to you" he says softly and at that I'm starting to understand where he's coming from. 

He's doubting himself. He thinks he's holding me back. He thinks that he's hurting me.

I cup his face in both of my hands and make him look at me, seeing how his eyes have gone glossy, his furrowed brow now the one I'm smoothing out.

"Being with you is not a burden. You've shown me what true love is. Selfless, kind, passionate and unapologetic. Our love might not be the most conventional but there are so many things in life that aren't either and they're praised for that fact" I say and he smiles a bit. 

"In another life if we find each other again maybe things will be easier but I am very happy with the life we're living now" I say and wipe away a stray tear that had fallen from the corner of his eye.

"Are you?" I ask and he nods, sniffling a little and leans forward to kiss me. "So so happy" he whispers, a soft smile spreading on my lips. 

"Now no more sadness and no more trying to push me away otherwise I'll start to think you don't like me anymore" he tilts his head at that, acting as if he was contemplating my statement and I push on one of his shoulders making him lose his balance. 

He grabs my wrist and pulls me down with him as he falls on his ass from his knelt down position which mind you isn't a far fall but he makes it worse by pulling me with him, pushing him onto his back while toppling onto him.

"What'd you do that for?" I chuckle as he groans, acting as if it was such a hard fall. "You're the one who pushed me" and I roll my eyes, "You're fine, now come on" I say and hold my hand out to help him up. 

Once he's standing though he tosses me down onto the couch, making me squeal at the surprise attack, him hovering over me. 

"I think I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look today Bunny" he says, cupping my cheek and wiping away some of the smudged mascara off my cheek. "I probably look like a hot mess" I roll my eyes and he chuckles and shrugs, "Still hot" he counters as he peppers kisses along my neck.

"What's gotten into you?" my voice breathless making him smile against my skin. "Can't I make out with my girlfriend?" he pulls back and my nose crinkles.

"Don't say it like that" I cringe and he lets out a scoff. "Say it like what? You are my girlfriend still right? Or are you looking to change that already?" he asks, sliding his hand under my dress and up my thigh. 

"Girlfriend is okay for now" I shiver, goosebumps rising wherever he's touched. 

"So are you still protesting?" he hums, kisses more deliberate, more sensual. 

He knows what he's doing.

"No" I squeak out and he lets out a cocky chuckle.

"That's my girl. You did such a good job today, hosting and acting like the woman of the house" he hums, his hand now resting on my hip, grinding against me, my eyes fluttering shut. 

"Acting?" I breathe out, calling him on his bullshit.

"My mistake" he says and trails his kisses back up my neck, placing soft but lingering kisses on my lips. "You are the woman of the house. My perfect girl always taking care of me" he hums and I smile, wrapping a leg around his thigh, pulling him closer. 

"Needy tonight are we?" he says, his hips having more space now, grinding down harder, pressing against me so I can feel how much he wants me. 

"Fuck I can't wait to make you my wife" he mumbles out, my breath hitching at that. "You like that? Want to be my pretty little wife?" he taunts, his tone making me dizzy, whining when he bites my shoulder as a reminder to respond. 

"Yes" I breathe out and although this isn't a real proposal his true intentions show me he wants a future together, although he's always made that very clear.

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[flemingology]

first time ─ jessie fleming x reader

in which: you and jessie take the next step in your relationship

warnings: smut (18+), g!p sex, oral (r receiving), penetrative sex (r receiving), dirty talk

wc: 4.6K, used a couple prompts from @delusionisaplace!

a/n: Let's say jessie is still at chelsea here, just to make sense of the tiny bit of plot there is at the beginning of this fic, lol. also, this is... pure filth. I don't know why this was the fic that got me out of my writer's block but yeah, have it. also if the whole g!p thing is NOT your thing, then don't read it! the warning is there for a reason. it's my first time writing this dynamic, so I'm sorry if it's kinda shitty. as usual, not proofread. sorry for any mistakes.

You kept rolling your hips down into Jessie's lap, another whine escaping your lips as you could feel her growing cock pressing into you with every brush against her hips. Your head was buried in your girlfriend's neck, lips parted and softly panting as you fisted your hands in her hair. "Fuck, Jess, if we don't stop now we are not making it in time to Leah's," you said, with the last remaining bit of dignity lingering inside of you.

Leah had invited some of her Arsenal teammates and their plus ones over for a big dinner at her place, to which you'd eagerly agreed when you first got the invitation. After a bit of convincing, you'd managed to get Jessie on board too – the self-consciousness about being the only Chelsea player in a predominantly Arsenal-covered living room quickly washed away with the prospect of a little mingling with old and new friends in sight.

Right now, though, a dinner with friends was the last thing on Jessie's mind. Admittedly, it wasn't really at the front of yours either. Your every thought now laced with pleasure, you tried your absolute hardest to keep a little bit of self-control before you lost yourself completely in Jessie's touch, in the feeling of her burgeoning hard-on pressing against your awaiting core.

"Yeah", Jessie breathed against you, forcing her eyes closed because your blissed out face was pushing her towards an edge she didn't want to be at yet, "yeah, you're right," she said, but made no move to stop or get up, if anything she pushed your hips harder against hers.

You lifted your head from her neck in a vain attempt to regain some control, but seeing Jessie's baby hairs sticking against her forehead that was covered in a sheen layer of sweat, a frown etched upon her face as she concentrated on being good for you with her eyes closed, there wasn't a single cell in your body that wanted anything else but this.

"Fuck it," you mumbled underneath your breath, "we'll make up an excuse later," it was the last bit of encouragement that Jessie needed, already lifting you up from the couch before you even got a chance at finishing your sentence. You squealed as she lifted you up and you put your legs around her waist, hanging onto her while she manoeuvred the two of you up the stairs and into her bedroom.

You and Jessie hadn't gone much further than a few heated make-out sessions on either of your couches yet. The relationship was fairly new and as much as you were completely infatuated by her, you'd promised each other to take it slow. But the past week, anytime Jessie did anything but breathe near you, you wanted nothing more than to jump her bones – you were ovulating, in your defense. So when you rang her doorbell that night, having gotten ready in your own apartment for Leah's dinner, and Jessie opened the door in a white button-up shirt that was tucked into a pair of black slacks that perfectly hugged her muscular thighs, you knew you wouldn't have the self control to restrain yourself tonight.

Jessie's button-up shirt and your dress long forgotten – not without the promise that you'd wear it again for her – your girlfriend placed you on the bed and crawled on top of you. "You drive me crazy, baby, honestly. I need you so bad," she said, pulling a moan from you. Jessie had always been – and still was – quite reserved. She had her moments with you where she would turn into herself, but those were rare. With other people, though, it was rare that they would see Jessie let loose. So when you discovered that Jessie was quite the dirty talker in bed, it's safe to say you more than were surprised. Pleasantly surprised, that's for sure.

Your Canadian peppered kisses all over your face, your cheek and jawline until she reached the base of your neck, where she let her wet tongue glide over the sensitive skin all the way back up until she reached your ear, where she softly nipped on your earlobe. All your senses were overwhelmed with Jessie – you saw, heard, felt and smelled nothing but her. And you loved it.

A couple moments later Jessie still found her face nuzzled into your neck, sucking, kissing and licking all over the skin there. And as much as you liked it and it felt good, you were starting to feel quite the throb between your legs – and you wanted, needed, her to do something about it.

"Jess", you said breathily, to which she lifted her head. "Please, I need you," you continued, to which a small smirk tugged at her lips. "What do you need, love?" she asked. You groaned and threw your head back. "Your mouth, your fingers, your dick. Anything, Jess." A shiver rolled down Jessie's spine as you finished talking, purely due to the excitement of what was about to come.

The Canadian wasn't particularly someone for one-night stands, she simply loved too hard to be able to fuck someone without catching any sorts of feelings for them. That, combined with her busy schedule, meant she hadn't dated in a good while. Meaning that, for the last couple of years, the only relief Jessie could give herself was the pumping of her own hand. Merely the thought of her length being enveloped in your warm tunnel had her almost bursting.

She slowly made her way down, pressing open-mouthed kisses all over your body. You could feel her sucking your skin and marking you up, but you didn't have an ounce of self-control left in your body anymore to tell her to stop. She reached your underwear and teased you by dipping one finger underneath the waistband, but not trailing further.

"Can I take this off?" she asked softly, earning a nod from you. "I'm gonna need words, beautiful," she said, when you didn't speak up further. "I know you can do that for me," she continued, which caused you to blush. "Yeah-, yeah, that's okay. Only if you undress too," you replied. Jessie glanced down at her own body and noticed that she was still half-dressed, her lower body still covered. She stood up quickly and kicked off her trousers and socks – her swollen cock a little less restrained which caused her to sigh a breath of relief – before settling her body between your legs again.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips when she pulled your underwear down your legs, a string of your arousal connected to the garment. "You're soaked baby, god, you're so hot," Jessie mumbled.

Your girlfriend skipped the teasing and torturing and delved straight in, your scent way too intoxicating for the Canadian to wait any longer to taste you. Jessie licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance up to your clit, gathering your arousal in her mouth and spreading it all over your lips. You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips upon the feeling of Jessie's warm tongue against your heat.

"Fuck, Jess, that's so good," you said breathlessly. You had been uncertain and insecure about this moment for a long time, but you couldn't have wished for a better time to take the next step in your relationship. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Jessie took your sensitive nub in her mouth and teasingly flicked her tongue across it, earning a grunt from you. You tangled your hands in her curls and gave a sharp tug when you felt her teeth graze your clit, the sting subsiding quickly when she started sucking on it again.

It wasn't long before you started to feel a tightening sensation starting to bubble up inside of you. Jessie's tongue was working wonders against your core and you were seriously questioning why it had taken the two of you so long to get to this point. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the squelching of your drenched core, riling you up further – if that was even possible. Jessie hadn't even used her fingers yet and she had you teetering on the edge.

"Jess," you breathed, trying to form a coherent sentence while the Canadian was sucking and licking on you at a relentless pace. "I'm close, baby, you're gonna make me cum," you continued. Jessie hummed into your pussy, not relenting by any means. In response, she squeezed your thighs that were resting on her shoulders. Your moans rose in pitch as she brought you closer and closer to your high, not letting her pace waver once you started squirming and bucking underneath her.

"Oh fuck, Jess, fuck, I'm cumming," you mustered, right before you felt the coil in your belly snap. You arched your back off the bed and threw your head back, your thighs locking around Jessie's head whose ministrations kept going. You let out a loud moan as you started to come down, your girlfriend guiding you through your orgasm and eventually releasing your lips with a pop as you started growing sensitive.

You dropped your legs from Jessie's shoulders and rested them on the mattress, trying to catch your breath from the mind-blowing orgasm you just had. "Fuck, that was good," you said, not needing to glance at Jessie to know there was a smug smirk plastered on her face. She rested her head on your thigh and pressed soft kisses, waiting for you to come down from your high.

A couple moments later you managed to catch your breath, and opened your eyes to look at her. "You're amazing", you said, a light smile tugging at your lips. You couldn't miss the small blush that crept upon your girlfriend's cheeks at your words. "Thank you, baby, I love making you feel good," she replied.

Another few moments of silence went by before you spoke up. "What about you?" you said, wanting nothing more than to return the favor but not really knowing how to approach the subject. After all, you were quite nervous, to put it lightly. You had never had sex with a dick before, and you definitely didn't know whether you were going to be any good at it – whether you would like it even. Jessie and you had talked about it countless of times, talked about what you thought you would like and not like, because the last thing she wanted was to make you uncomfortable or to hurt you in the moment.

"What about me?" Jessie quipped back, but you didn't miss the glint in her eyes. She climbed up your body and laid her head on your chest before you replied. "I want you to feel good too," you said softly, to which she let out a little chuckle. "Pleasuring you is more than enough, baby," she said, to which you rolled your eyes. "I'm not having that, Fleming. You know what I mean."

Jessie chuckled and looked up at you. "Are you sure? I know we said we'd take things slow on this regard," she asked. She was right. You had told her that you wanted to take things slow. You were more than comfortable with the Canadian but you didn't want to rush into things. You nodded, taking a deep breath before continuing the conversation. "Yeah, you're right. I did say that. But this feels good. It feels right," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind Jessie's ear. "So if it feels right for you too, I'm more than willing to try some things."

"It feels more than right, you know that, but I just want to make sure that you feel okay with all of this. I'd never want to rush you into doing things you'd rather not," Jessie said softly, tracing patterns on your bare chest. You pressed a kiss against her crown and took her chin between your thumb and index finger, tilting her head up towards you. You gave her an appreciative look before you spoke. "You're perfect, Jess. I love how mindful you are being, but I promise that I'm okay with this. I'd tell you if I wasn't."

Jessie gave you a nod and a warm smile before rolling off your body and sitting up, seemingly a bit nervous about her next step. She looked around hesitantly around the room. "You okay, Jess?" you inquired, now sitting up against the headboard. "Y-yeah, I was just," she breathed, voice slightly wavering. You frowned, wondering what had gotten Jessie visibly upset. "We're on the same page, right?" she asked. You cocked an eyebrow at your girlfriend. "I think so, yeah? I don't know what you mean, but I don't see how we couldn't be."

Jessie seemed to relax a little at your words. "Is it okay if I grab a condom, then?" you chuckled at her question, shaking her head in disbelief before speaking up again. "Of course, Jess, why are you so nervous about that?"

"I don't know, we hadn't verbally agreed on what we wanted next and I didn't want to just grab a condom if I wasn't sure that this is what you wanted," she explained. A small smile tugged at your lips as you leant in and cupped her cheek, pressing a tender kiss against her lips before you replied. "You're adorable. Thank you for checking in. But yeah I can confirm that this," you gestured towards Jessie's hand that was resting on the nightstand and then down towards her still-hardened member, "is what I want."

Jessie's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and she cast her gaze away from yours, slightly embarrassed at her own uncertainty. Nonetheless, she opened her nightstand and rummaged around until she found an unopened pack of condoms. "It's been ages since I've used these, but I'm pretty sure they're not expired yet," Jessie said with a toothy grin on her face. "Well, we should make sure to get some new ones then next time we're grocery shopping," you said, a teasing smile adorning your lips as you spoke to your girlfriend. "Big plans huh?" she inquired, before bringing the condom packet to her mouth and ripping it open.

You watched on in awe as Jessie slipped the top of the condom over her tip and rolled the rest down her length. It was safe to say that Jessie's member was above average length. It was quite wide and thick. On another day, if your heart wasn't pounding in your chest, you would've probably made a comment about it. You had never had sex with a dick before, so it was safe to say that you were quite nervous about taking her, if you were going to be able to at all.

Jessie made her way back over to you and spread your legs again, settling her body in between yours as she sat back on her heels. She caressed your thighs gently and relented from doing anything, letting you set the pace for now. She could tell you were nervous. She offered you a warm, small smile before speaking up. "I'll be gentle with you, I promise. I wouldn't want to hurt you, ever," you nodded and gave your girlfriend an appreciative nod. She knew you'd never had penetrative sex with a dick before. She also knew you were nervous, so it meant a lot to you that she was reassuring you like this.

"I know. I trust you," you said, before you scooted a little closer to her, trying to wordlessly let her know that you were ready. Jessie got the hint and pushed her body towards you, hovering over you on her knees as she adjusted so her dick was lining up with your entrance. You watched on between your bodies in awe as Jessie grabbed her length and softly pushed it up and down between your folds, repeatedly bumping against your clit. You couldn't suppress the soft whimpers that escaped your lips. A couple moments later, Jessie looked up to you and searched your eyes for any signs of uncertainty. She wanted to make sure that you were fully comfortable before she pushed further. You grabbed her hand that was situated on your hip, keeping herself up, and gave it a tight squeeze.

Jessie took it as encouragement and lined herself up with your entrance, ever so slowly inching forward. She kept her eyes trained on your face as she entered you, making sure she didn't miss any signs of discomfort as she stretched you out. You closed your eyes and bit your lip as you focused on the feeling of Jessie's hardened member entering you. Despite a first orgasm, you hadn't loosened much and you could feel the way she was stretching you out. A frown was etched on your face as you tried to compose your breathing. You tried your best to relax and to loosen up for her, but Jessie couldn't push further.

"Just let it happen, baby, don't think about it too much. I can feel you tightening around me," Jessie spoke up softly. You nodded wordlessly, taking a deep breath in and trying to relax further. Jessie was still on her knees between your legs, patiently stretching you out. She, too, was having a hard time at remaining composed. Not so much because of discomfort, but mainly because she lost herself in the feeling of being wrapped up in your heat. She wasn't in deep, by any means, but your warmth was enveloping her tip and she loved the feeling.

A couple minutes, a lot of trial and error and deep breaths later, Jessie's hips were finally flush against yours. It hadn't been easy, but the feeling of being filled by your girlfriend was nothing like you'd ever experienced. Jessie was hovering over you now, wanting to be close to you instead of on her knees between your legs. "Does this feel fine?" Jessie whispered in your ear, not wanting to disturb you too much while you were adjusting to her length inside of you. You nodded wordlessly, letting your nails rake over Jessie's back. "Yeah," you breathed out. "Yeah, this is okay."

A couple more moments passed before you spoke up again. "I think I'm ready for you to move," you said tentatively. Jessie lifted her head and looked at you, searching your eyes for any discomfort. "Okay," she breathed, pressing a tender kiss against your forehead. Jessie slowly pulled her hips back, pulling out of you just until she reached the tip. She moaned softly at the sensation, pushing back inside of you and filling you to the hilt. "Fuck," you whimpered, "do that again, please."

Jessie eyed you curiously and pulled back once more, making sure her tip stayed inside of you. "Like this?" she asked, earning a wordless nod from you. She grinned slightly, pushing back inside of you and letting your warm tunnel envelop her length. "You feel so tight around me, darling, you're so hot."

By now, you had comfortably adjusted to Jessie's length. Even though you could still feel her stretching you out with every thrust, most of the uncomfortable feeling was now replaced with pleasure. Jessie found a steady rhythm that felt good to both of you, pushing in and out of you while making sure you were comfortable.

The room was now filled with the sounds of your shared moans and the squelching of your core every time Jessie pushed inside of you. You were undeniably wetter than you'd ever been. Not only the feeling of being fucked by your girlfriend and being so close to each other, the thought of her filling you up again and again was doing things to you too.

Jessie's breathing became slightly ragged the longer you continued. You could feel her thrusts were becoming a little less regular and you wondered if those were the telltale signs of her growing closer to her orgasm. You wished you could say the same, though. Although it felt good, you didn't know whether this was doing it for you. You realized that you should tell Jessie, because she wouldn't forgive herself if she came and you didn't.

You pressed your hand against Jessie's chest which caused her to halt her movements, looking up at you worriedly. "I don't think it's going to work like this, Jess. This feels good, but I don't know if it's going to get me there," you said, an inevitable blush creeping up your cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Jessie shook her head and spoke adamantly. "Don't be sorry, please. We have all night, okay? No need to rush," she said, while leaning down and pressing a loving kiss against your lips before she sat back on her heels and slowly pulled herself out of you, watching on amazedly as your core tried to suck her back in. "Like what you see?" you teased, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I do, this is hot."

Jessie pulled out of you completely and took your hands in hers. "Is there anything you would like to try? Something you think might feel better?" Jessie inquired. You shrugged, dropping the eye contact and looking away from your girlfriend. You had an idea, but you were slightly embarrassed to voice it. She frowned, grabbing your chin between her thumb and index finger and tilting your head towards hers again. "It's just me, baby, please tell me what you've got on your mind."

Your already-red face turned a shade darker, another blush creeping on your cheeks as you locked eyes with her. "Do you maybe want to, uhm, try a different position?" you asked softly, uncertainty laced in your voice. Jessie chuckled lightly and smiled brightly at you. "Of course I want to try a different position, love," Jessie reassured you, giving your hands an appreciative squeeze as you looked up at her.

You didn't really know how to progress further. You could tell that Jessie expected further explanation from you, probably an insight to what position you wanted to try. You were still feeling quite apprehensive about the whole situation, but you mustered up the courage to go further. "Maybe... uhm, do you maybe want to try from the back?"

Jessie's face lit up at what you said, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yeah," she chuckled, "I'm more than down to try from the back," Jessie sat back a bit to give you more room to work with, you shuffling from underneath her. You rolled your body over and pushed yourself up, holding your body up on your hands and knees. Jessie moved too, positioning her body behind yours and making sure the both of you were comfortably in the middle of the mattress.

"God, I wish you could see how good you looked from this angle," Jessie whispered. Her eyes were trained on your entrance, that was clenching around nothing. Your folds were sopping wet, your arousal smeared out all over them adding to the sensations. You turned your head and looked at your girlfriend over your shoulder, chuckling as you noticed her staring at you in awe. "You're a dork, you know that?"

Jessie let out a breathy laugh and shuffled closer to you, her dick lining up with your entrance again. "I know I am, that's why you love me" she said, not wasting another second and pushing herself inside of you again. "Oh," you said, your breath hitching in your throat at the feeling of being filled again. "Oh, yeah, that's good."

"Fuck, that's so much better, Jess. Keep going, please," you whimpered, Jessie's dick hitting your sweet spot repeatedly from the renewed angle. The Canadian propped one of her legs up next to your body for extra leverage and held your waist and started pushing in and out of you at a relentless pace. Now that she knew for sure that this felt good for you, there was no longer that mental barrier.

Your moans and whimpers only spurred her on, pleasure taking over her thoughts as her dick was enveloped in your warmth. "God, you feel so good inside of me, Jess, fuck," you got out. "Nothing will ever come close to the feeling of you around my dick, baby."

You started moving your hips back against Jessie's in time with her thrusts as a long moan escaped the Canadian's throat. "Fuck, you're incredible," she said, as you were adding to her pleasure. "You look so good like this baby, taking me so well. You're doing so good.

Her praise did inexplicable things to you. To know that you were making her feel good was working wonders on your ego. You'd been worried that you weren't going to be good enough for her, especially in the beginning as you'd have to find your footing in sex with Jessie, but tonight had blown all your doubts away.

Just as before, you could tell that Jessie was growing close to a release. This time, though, you could feel the same for you. The familiar tightening sensation started boiling up again, your breaths becoming uneven and your thrusts back against Jessie losing their strength.

"Are you close, baby? You wanna cum for me?" Jessie asked, seemingly reading your mind. You groaned deeply and mustered up a response. "God, yes, please Jessie, let me cum," you begged her. "Begging already, huh? I wasn't even denying you of anything," Jessie said with a touch of degradation in her voice which turned you on further, if that was even possible.

You threw your head down against the mattress and groaned again, not having the strength to muster up a smart response. "Go ahead, baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock," the Canadian said, finishing you off with a few harsh thrusts before you bursted all over her length, spitting out moan after moan. It wasn't long before Jessie came too, rutting harshly into you as she spurted ropes of cum into her condom. She groaned as she pulled your body flush against hers, now both of you on your knees as she fucked you through both of your orgasms.

Jessie brought of you down against the mattress when you had both come down. She laid wordlessly on top of you as she tried to compose herself and regain her breath, her dick softening and falling out of your still-drenched core. She rolled over onto her back and opened her arms for you to fall into, your head resting on her chest. You listened to her heart that was rapidly pumping.

You were the first to speak up after a couple moments. "God, that was amazing. You were amazing. I love you so much," you accentuated her words with a couple tender kisses against Jessie's lips. She smiled into the kiss. "If anything, all credit goes to you. You told me you'd never had sex with a dick before, but honestly I couldn't tell. You're everything and more," Jessie said, pulling you closer to her.

After cleaning each other up, you spent the rest of the evening in comfy clothing in each other's arms, sprawled out over the bed watching some tv. "We're gonna have to find a good excuse for Leah, by the way. I checked my phone earlier and noticed a couple missed calls."

Jessie chuckled and continued rubbed soothing patterns up and down your back. "Next time we'll make sure not to miss a dinner you agreed to. I just really couldn't withstand you this time," the midfielder confessed. "Well, that makes both of us," you pressed another tender, lingering kiss against Jessie's lips. Before long, you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[axelsagewrites]

could you make a robb stark x baratheon reader where they grow up together as friends and were promised to each other, at the beginning reader thinks robb doesn't wanna marry her but then he tells her he loves her

if you could please add smut at the end (afab reader btw)

Robb Stark*Arranged

Pairing: arranged marriage!robb stark x princess!reader

Word count: 2272

Warnings: arranged marriage, anxiety, talks of running away, making out, (smut in part two but this is mostly wholesome), fluff

Masterlist here

A/N: sorry this (and everything else lol) has taken so long but part two with the smut will be up in the next couple of days :)

despite being a Baratheon by blood, by title, and by name most days you felt more like a Stark than anything else. Your father had sent you up to the North on your eleventh name day to become a ward of Ned Stark as part of an alliance of sort. Marrying his eldest daughter to a well-respected and established house only strengthened your fathers claim.

It had benefits for you, well at least he told you all his reasons in the letters. You’d be safe under lord starks protection, able to grow up alongside Sansa Stark who was only a year younger than you, become the future lady of Winterfell, and most importantly, to you at least, marry your childhood crush.

Yes, that’s right from the time you met him at four, him being five, you were smittened. Your father had travelled north on business but also happened to attend the wedding of one of the northern lords. He and ned laughed loudly, clinking their glasses together, as they watched you force Robb to walk down a pretend aisle with you that Jon helped you set up with chairs.

Of course, it was just a silly crush. It’s not like four-year-olds understand what a wedding is. By the time you moved to the north at eleven it was just a fond memory of your fathers he would tell at dinner parties.

In the nicest way possible when you first arrived Robb didn’t even care you were there. He was twelve and running about with wooden swords to practise with Jon and Theon while you and Sansa would practise hairstyles in each other’s hair.

However, by fifteen something dreadful happened. You fancied him.

Sure, in theory it sounded great but there were so many awkward moments. After all you were only fifteen. You couldn’t help that your face went beat red when he gave you a necklace for your birthday and when he told you that you looked ‘pretty’ one day you could barely muster out a thank you, you were so shocked.

You did your best to shove it down and pretend everything was normal over the years, but the crush never went away. You got better at hiding it. you had to as you’d grown closer over the years. Since Sansa had no interest in horse riding you were left to go with the trio, as you called them, instead. It soon became one of your favourite past times and you quickly grew close with the three boys. Especially Robb.

You figured it was a good idea especially as the talks of your marriage began cropping up more frequently. Your parents started pushing you to go on chaperoned excursions to markets and walks through the gods’ woods. They had no clue, or at least pretended, about the unchaperoned ones. Often you disappeared into the gods wood for some peace or the fields behind Winterfell to race. Robb began to bring food in his satchel so your excursions could turn into late lunches in the few sunny days of Winterfell.

“I definitely won,” he grinned as he dismounted his horse.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed as you jumped down, “you cheated,”

“How?”

“You went before I said go!”

“It’s three, two, one, go on one,”

“No, it’s not. Its three, two, one, go,”

“As in go already I said one,”

“As in you’re a cheat,” you huffed as you sat down against a thick oak tree.

Robb laughed at your antics as he sat down beside you, pulling his satchel out, “Truce?” he offered as he pulled out a parcel of sandwiches.

You pretended to think it over before nodding, “Truce,” For a few moments you sat in silence eating the sandwiches before you finally decided to tell him the news that had been weighing over you for the past week. “My mother sent me a raven,”

“Oh?” Robb paused, mid bite with concern written on his face. Your father sent you letters on a weekly basis but so far, your mother had only sent three since you left. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, well, I think so. I’m not sure,” you paused for a moment before just blurting it out, “She’s coming next week. With a seamstress,” Robb stared at you confused, “For the wedding,”

“Oh,” the word shattered your heart. While you had become friends over the year neither one of you ever spoke about the impending nuptials. Sure, you wanted to marry him, but you were terrified. Not of marriage. He was a good man. He would treat you right whether he wanted this marriage or not. But that’s when the fear came in. what if Robb could never love you? “Aren’t most girls excited about fancy dresses?” he tried to joke, lighten the mood like he always did. Its what he always did whenever the wedding was brought up. Play it off, make a joke, laugh. It was all an awkward joke to him.

“I suppose, Sansa will be,” you laughed. She really had become like a sister to you over the years, “I suppose though this means it will be arranged soon,” you tried to look at him, but Robb just stared down at his food. “Unless we escape somehow,” you joked, copying his defence mechanism.

He looked up a smiled a little, “Quick you grab the horses, I’ll pack the bag. We’ll ride at dawn,” he joked.

“Imagine. Take all the back roads till we get to Riverrun,”

“Bribe the Frays into letting us cross,”

“Then straight down to Dorne,”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiled, knocking his knee against yours. “Jon would never forgive me if I left him behind,”

“Him and Arya can come with. We’ll become sellswords,”

“Sounds like we’ve got it all planned out,”

-

When you returned to Winterfell Catelyn ran up to you both in a tizzy, “Where have you both been?” she whispers shouted, smiling at a passing lord before scouring, “A messenger from the king has arrived,”

You knew she meant well but your stomach dropped. you both followed her to the hall but soon the sorrowful look on your face was replaced by a grin, “Uncle Tyrion,” you rushed up to him immediately.

“Ah my favourite niece. Finally returned from some dingy pub I assume,” he joked though Cat couldn’t help but frown a little. They were both protective just in their own ways. “Don’t worry I’m not here to stay long. Just come down on your father’s behalf to organise the wedding. Speaking of, Lord Stark I do believe this is the first time we’ve met,” he extended a courteous nod to a very nervous looking Robb.

“Lord Tyrion,” he bowed.

“It goes without saying if you hurt my niece, I will have to have my men kill you,” he said, head tilting to the side making Robb gulp, “But other than that it’s lovely to meet you,” he grinned widely like a jester.

“Don’t tease him uncle,” you shook your head, but Tyrion just laughed, “I’d say you’ll get used to him, but no one has so far,”

“You’re so kind niece, truly,” he laughed, “Now onto business The king has organised his travels and shall be in Winterfell by the first of next month so we shall have to act swiftly,”

Panic set on all three of your faces. Though Robb and yours was far different than Catelyn’s. “My lord that’s awfully soon. We may not have the provisions to afford so many guests so soon- “

“No fear my lady. I was also sent with my father’s gold. No Lannister shall have anything less than a golden affair,” you could see the relief melt from Catelyn but yours was just setting in.

-

For the next three weeks every discussion you had was about the wedding. cakes, flowers, food, music, dresses, veils, and most daunting of all; organising the preparation for Robb’s and yours new chamber. Tyrion even sent a seamstress to your room to organise an outfit for your wedding night. It was all quickly becoming too much.

You’d barely even seen Robb since the planning began. There was no time to calm down and no one to remind you to breathe. That was his job. Whenever you got nervous, he would gently grab your wrist under the table, running his thumb over the back of your hand. But he was nowhere to be found.

You eventually managed to find Jon who told you Robb was under the same stresses. His mother had him arranging with traders and mingling with the growing number of lords appearing at Winterfell’s gates. “Suppose this is the stresses of being a lady,” Jon joked.

It was only then it hit you. Soon this whole castle would be yours to run. How would you ever have time to breathe let alone enjoy your husband’s company if he would even have you.

Despite missing your family, the night before their arrivals, you cried quietly in your chamber. Their arrival tomorrow only marked the three remaining days you had left as a maid. Perched on an open windows ledge, the cold air stung your cheek but at least as you watched the birds fly you could feel a little of their freedom.

Then there was a quiet but rapid knocking. The faint sound brought your attention to the door which was shut less than a second after it was opened. “Hey sorry I’ve not come sooner- “Robb’s voice entered the room, for some reason making your tears sting more. Robb shivered from the cold, “Why’s the window open? You’ll freeze princess,”

Robb rushed to your side, leaning past you to shut the glass to preserve what little heat he could. His confusion fell from his face when he saw your tears, “What’s the matter?” his voice was soft and tender as he sat across from you to hold your hands, his thumbs stroking over the back on them.

“I don’t know,” you lied in a whisper.

Robb knew. He always knew when you lied. He just nodded gently though. “I’ll start a fire,” he was on his feet again.

“I can fetch someone if you wish- “

“But I’m already here,” he teased as he knelt by the fireplace.

As he got to work in silence you padded across the floor. The stone floor felt like ice against your bare feet making you quicken your pace till you could sit on the small sofa in front of the fire Robb had started. “Easy, see,” he said, joining you on the couch, “We’ll get a heat in you,”

“Thanks,” you sniffled.

You sat in an easy silence though when you left out another sigh Robb was compelled to place an arm around your shoulder. You leant into his touch, your head rested on his shoulder and his on yours. A few moments passed before he spoke, “Jon said you were asking for me,”

You weren’t sure why you tensed, “I just worry sometimes,”

“I know,”

You couldn’t stand the next silence that followed so made a joke, “Thought you’d ran away,”

“Without you?” he said, pulling back to grin back at you, “Nah we have a deal princess. Say the word and I’ll get the horses,”

His smile made your stomach drop. It all felt like one big tease, “I thought,” you began to stutter, “You may have been running from me,”

Robb’s face fell, “Why would I do that?”

You sighed, turning to face the flames again as the tears threatened to spill, “It’s not like you chose this marriage. You weren’t exactly ever given the option. I wouldn’t blame you if you objected to it,” you muttered.

When he pulled away you could’ve sobbed but it was quickly replaced by confusion when he knelt in front of you, “Why would I object? all I desire is to be a good and faithful husband to you and may gods help me I will be. I wouldn’t desire another option if I was given a thousand,”

“Why?” you could feel venom briming in your voice, “Because my dowery? Because the king commanded it?”

The hurt on his face felt like a stab to the gut but his words only twisted the knife, “Because I love you,” he took your hands in his, “and I understand that you don’t feel that way for me and may never, but nothing will stop the way I- “

You didn’t even realise you’d moved till you pulled back from the kiss. Without thinking your lips had found his and now you stared into his eyes. It only lasted a second before Robb lusted forward, reconnecting the kiss into a messy, desperate thing.

As you felt him raise, you followed, standing to kiss him as his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands rested on his shoulders, now fully able to appreciate his strength.

You wanted more but he pulled away, your lips chased his making Robb breathe out a laugh. “You’re something else,” he muttered, a grin on his face, “I can’t imagine not wanting to be with you,”

This time your arms tightened, burying your head into his neck as you hugged him close. Robb followed suit, his muscular arms keeping your warmer than the fire, “I feel the same way,” you eventually managed to stutter out, “But I- “

“You don’t have to say it,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head, “I understand,”

“How did I get so lucky?” you pulled back to smile up at him.

He just smiled back, “I ask myself that each night,”

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[vbecker10]

Hi Neighbor (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 (in progress)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You take Bucky grocery shopping for the first time and you're surprised when he suddenly opens up to you. What might be even more surprising is his reaction when elderly shopper mistakingly assumes you're a married couple.

A/N: This is going to be a multi-part series with a bit of a slow burn between you and your hot new neighbor. I'm not sure how many parts yet but I already have the ending all figured out. I was going to work on something else first but one of my favorite people specifically requested this be next lol. I hope you all like it! 💚

You push the shopping cart through the automatic doors and are closely followed by Bucky. "Produce first I think," you suggest when you see him looking around the large store a bit lost. He nods in response and stays close to you until he sees something that makes him smile.

He wanders over to the large display of fruit and picks up a plum with his vibranium fingers, squeezing it lightly before putting it back down and selecting another one. You watch him for a moment then decide to be helpful and pull a plastic bag from the stand. With a quiet but frustrated groan, you overcome your struggle to open the bag and thankfully he's too focused on the fruit to notice.

"Thanks," smiles at you when you finally hold the bag out so he can add the plums he's picked so far.

"You don't need to buy all them," you giggle when he adds a sixth one.

"I know," he agrees and puts back the one he's currently holding. "I just really like them."

"Yeah, I can see that," you say with a touch of sarcasm. "So, you can feel if they're ripe with your metal hand?" you can't help but ask even though you probably shouldn't.

He holds up his vibranium hand, looking at his palm then wiggling his fingers a little as he rotates his wrist. "Yeah, this is a lot better then the old one I had," he tells you.

"You're real arm?" you ask confused, pushing the shopping cart over to the bananas so you can grab a few.

He shakes his head, "No, I meant the one Hydra made for the uh..." he clears his throat then forces out the next words with his gaze focused on the back his hand metal as it hangs by his side, "The Winter Soldier."

"Oh," you respond, having no idea what else to say.

"Yeah, it was titanium," he explains and you lean against the cart, listening to him quietly. He tries to act like he's searching for the right apple, picking one up then placing it back down gently. You find yourself being thankful the store is nearly empty, shopping late at night has its advantages.

Bucky avoids looking at you while he begins to talk again, "The way they attached it... I could feel it, if it was grabbed or injured because it was connected to my nerves, bone and muscles but I didn't have, what did they call it?" He rubs his metal fingers together while he thinks. "Tactile sensation," he looks up from his hand but still doesn't look directly at you, "So I couldn't really feel anything."

"Other than pain if you got hurt?" you ask and he nods silently.

You wait quietly, watching him think. "It never really felt like that arm was a part of me, it was just some weapon they built for the Winter Soldier," he tries to explain. "I was almost relieved when it got ripped off, as messed up as that sounds."

"It got ripped off!?" you ask, barely able to imagine how horrific that must have felt.

"Yeah, that's a long story but the short version is it absolutely sucked," he says with a light chuckle. "It's not the first time I've lost my left arm though and like I said, it never really felt like it was mine."

You look at him a bit stunned and unable to figure out how to respond.

"This one is great though," he gives you a smile, relaxing more as he talks about his new arm. "The Wakandans made it for me out of vibranium. I forget how many sensors it has but I can feel everything now, even temperature. It's lighter too, even though it's a lot stronger."

"That's really cool," you smile back at him.

"And, it's dishwasher safe," he adds.

You laugh, "Shut up, it is not!"

He laughs and nods, "I swear it is! I used to use the one back at the Tower all the time."

"That's like a million dollar limb and you put it in the dishwasher?" you cover your mouth as you laugh harder.

"On a low setting," he smiles.

"You are so weird," you tell him.

"Yeah, I know," he clears his throat again and you notice he does that when he seems nervous or unsure of himself. "Anyways, I didn't mean to just throw all that out there... trauma dumping by the fruit wasn't really my plan for tonight."

"It's totally fine," you fight the urge to hug him and you're not sure why you resist it. He clearly could use a hug, you think but still you don't move. "I told you, I'm hear to listen and I meant it."

He walks over to stand next to the cart, for a moment it looks like he's going to reach out to take your hand but instead he grips the handle tightly. "Need anymore fruit?" he asks, changing the subject.

"Yep, oh how about those?" you point a few displays over.

"Grapes?" he chuckles when you seem overly excited and follows you.

You roll your eyes and pick up a small bunch to put in a bag for him, "Not just grapes, cotton candy grapes. They taste just like cotton candy I swear."

"Definitely never heard of those," he shakes his head, "But that sounds super weird and unnecessary."

"Of course you've never ver heard of them, it's like you lived in a cave," you sigh then freeze and put your hand over your mouth. I'm an idiot! Holy crap, why did I say that?! you yell at yourself.

"Technically, it was a secret underground military base in Siberia," he says with a straight face.

"Oh my god..." you lower your hand slowly. "I am so sorry! Bucky, I didn't mean that."

"It's fine," he insists, taking the forgotten bag of grapes from you and putting it with the other fruit in the cart.

"No, it's not. That was really messed up, I'm sorry," you tell him.

"It's okay," he reassures you. This time he does reach out to you, his right hand gently resting on your back then moving up and down slowly.

"Are you sure?" you ask, biting you lip and looking up at him.

"I'm sure," he smiles. "Don't even worry about it."

"Okay... but I'm buying you as many plums as you want cause I feel really bad now," you relax a bit and he removes his hand from your back.

He laughs a little, "I guess Sam's right, the whole guilt trip thing works on everyone."

"What do you mean?" you ask him.

"Oh, you know... you feel really bad about saying or doing something and then I get a little apology gift. It's how I got Tony to pay for my apartment," he informs you with a smirk.

"Wait seriously?" you ask following him in shock.

"Yep," he nods proudly. "Pretty much any time Tony says something stupid about my past or the Winter Soldier, which is pretty often, I get something fun like my bike."

"Wow," you laugh. "Really working the system huh?"

"It got me some plums didn't it?" he smiles at you and continues towards the vegetables.

You walk down the cereal aisle, looking for your favorite while Bucky pushes the cart behind you. With a groan, you step up to the shelf, of course it's on the top freaking shelf. Reaching for the box, Bucky chuckles behind you.

"Need help?" he asks.

"I've got it," you tell him and stretch as much as you can, lifting onto your tip toes and holding the shelf with your other hand.

"I can see that," you can hear the smirk in his voice while you struggle. After another moment of you pretending you'll suddenly get taller you feel his chest pressed lightly against your back. "This is getting sad," he laughs as he grabs the box easily.

"I had it," you tell him with a huff when he steps away to add it to the cart for you.

"You could just say 'thank you'," he smiles when you fold your arms across your chest.

"Aww, such a gentleman," an elderly woman says from half way down the aisle.

You both look towards her. "Thanks ma'am," Bucky responds politely with a smile.

"I wish I had a sweet, young husband like you," she laughs and you giggle knowing Bucky is older than her by at least twenty years. She continues, "You're such a cute couple."

You blush furiously at that and Bucky laughs quietly, his hand settling on top of yours on the handle of the cart. "You hear that sweetheart? She thinks we're cute," he says to you and you can barely believe how easily he's going along with this.

"Can borrow your husband, dear?" she asks you and points to something well out of her reach on the top shelf. "I can't seem to reach anything in this store lately."

"Oh, of course," you smile and push him gently towards her. "Go ahead handsome."

Without complaining, he walks towards where she is pointing. You notice he keeps his metal hand tucked away in his pocket and only uses his right hand to reach for the box.

"Thank you young man," she says excitedly and grabs onto his forearm tightly. It's clear she doesn't recognize him but it's also obvious she isn't going to let him go anytime soon. "I need a few more things, you don't mind do you?" she asks and he looks over his shoulder at you for help.

"You can keep him as long as you'd like," you laugh and wave at him when she pushes the cart further away from you.

(A few days later)

"Hey," you wave at Bucky when he opens his front door and you walk up the sidewalk from your car.

"Hi sweetheart," he responds, locking his door.

You sigh and look down, trying to hide your blush by pretending to be annoyed. "Don't you think that joke has run its course?" you ask him, walking up the few steps while he waits on the stoop.

"Nope," he smiles, lifting his backpack onto his shoulder.

"Look, babe..." you decide to throw in an awkward pet name to see how he likes it.

"Babe?" he practically cringes and you feel like you made a good choice.

"... it's not my fault the first woman who's hit on you in a century was half your age," you say sarcastically.

"Okay, there are so many things wrong with what you just said." He laughs and runs his metal fingers through his long hair then his smile fades, "Wait... how old do you think I am?"

You laugh and shrug despite knowing exactly how old he is, "Not quite ancient but pretty close I think, right?"

"Wow, thanks," he laughs, shaking his head. His phone beeps and he checks the message with a sigh, "Sorry to cut this short but I've got to go, work thing."

You jokingly ask him, "Going on a secret mission tonight?"

He smirks, "You know I couldn't tell you if I was."

You continue to smile but suddenly feel worried for him as he walks towards his bike. "Bucky," you call and he turns back to look at you. "Be safe."

"You don't need to worry about me sweetheart," he says with a wide grin as he starts the bike.

"I'm not," you mumble to yourself when he waves over his shoulder at you.

Covering your mouth, you hide a yawn then lean forward to stretch before laying back down on the couch. You pick up your phone, 1:32 am. Letting out a little groan, you place it back on the coffee table and try to focus on the end of the movie.

There's only fifteen minutes left, you think, then I'm going right to bed. Unless he's still not home yet. No, no, I'm not staying up just because he's still out at his 'work thing', whatever that means. This is stupid, I've been trying to watch this movie for weeks, it has nothing to do with Bucky, you argue with yourself about why you can't seem to go to sleep despite being absolutely exhausted.

You sigh deeply, holding the small pillow tightly against your chest as you yawn again when you finally hear Bucky's front door opening. Grabbing your phone, you can't help but open the camera app and check the video from moments ago. A wave of relief washes over you when you see him unlocking his door then pausing as he smiles and gives your camera a little wave.

You giggle and turn off the movie, you'll need to rewatch the last half hour tomorrow but right now it's time to go to sleep.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @multyunervisesuperfan @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @ash-muses @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @wolfsmom1 @sabspoetic @peaches1958 @catsladen @michellewgrt @crimson25 @jaidenhawke @mochie85 @itscomplicatedx @motherofmischief @enchantedbarnes @maryssong23 @hextech-bros

[oofmybad]

I loved your GOAT Talk imagine! Could you do one where Billie and reader are on Hot Ones Versus?

HOT ONES Versus

i love this request!!! it’s so nice writing out videos she’s done - just takes so long lol. but it’s a good excuse to watch the videos back teehee :P

warnings: fluff, suggestive jokes, not proofread

a/n: hi gang! i had my tattoo today, it was only five hours long so not too bad. i had planned to write a ton of requests while i was there but i ended up getting my right arm tattooed so no can do, whoopsie!

~~~~~~~

“you spin first baby, you wanted to” billie points to you across the table.

you take the hot sauce wheel between your fingers and spin it. after many turns it lands facing billie.

“you go first!” “my turn” you and billie say at the same time.

to your left, there is a stack of cue cards placed face down. you pick one up and begin to read out the question.

“as a songwriter, there’s a constant need to document your inner-most thoughts and feelings.” you pause to tsk, “read your last notes app entry out loud” you wince at billie.

“ruh rohhhh” billie sings, clearly unable to remember the last thing she wrote in there. she fishes her phone out of her back pocket and brings it up to read from.

her leg bounces in anticipation as she makes her way to the app.

suddenly, out of nowhere, billie lets out her signature loud cackle, throwing her head back in the process.

“yall! it’s a quoute from my dad” billie goes on to explain the context of the note before revealing what it actually says:

“your mom says i have bird eyes” she laughs, making you laugh with her.

she continues, “and that i look like a baby dinosaur”

“what the fuck, maggie?!” you chime in, “way to woo him” you joke.

“look at mom!” billie point over to maggie behind the cameras while laughing, “she’s like, ‘yep!’”

you notice that maggie is also filming the scene, so you decide to tease her about it, “she’s also filming as though there aren’t a hundred cameras in here. you know, just to get that magic shot” you quip.

billie laughs with you, before going on to read out the next question for you. “i just released my latest project, hit me hard and soft, were there any arguments while i was working on the record?” she reads out, looking to you once she’s completed the question. she takes off her glasses now, hoping to get a better look at you.

“ummm” you think, “yes” you say plainly.

billie laughs at your short sentence, “you gonna give any context to that, or?”

“i would come in the room a lot while you were recording a take and mess it up. that would piss you off” you say. billie laughs heavily in agreement.

“let me defend myself, though” you put a hand up, “i cant knock ‘cause that makes a noise, but i can’t just come in ‘cause that distracts you. so what exactly am i meant to do?”

“um, not come in” billie says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“bil, you were recording for like two years. sometimes i needed you” you explain, making eye contact with the cameras, looking for comradery.

“hell yeah you did” billie says like a twelve year old boy, turning your sentence dirty.

“shut UP! i did not!… well-” you trail off.

“sorry mom” billie giggles. you just grit your teeth in maggies direction, making an ‘eek’ face.

“ok next question pleaseeeee” you sing out, trying to move on from the now awkward conversation.

you pick up another cue card and read it out to billie.

“in addition to being a grammy award winning singer, you’re also a style icon. rate these classic billie fits on a scale from 1-10.”

“jesus christ” billie huffs.

you pull up the first image of her in a camo vest and grey sweatpants, already giggling at her.

billie deliberates, “one to ten? we’re gonna give that like a… three.” she goes on, “i had the idea, the idea was there, but the execution was off. it really doesn’t look good on, though.”

“was that at laneway?” you ask.

“mhm, in perthhhhhhh” she says questioningly, causing you to make fun of her cadense.

“p-u-r-r-r-r-r-th?” you spell out before picking up the next image.

“aw this was cute” you comment.

“that was cute. that’s like a 7/8. anything anime is like the coolest shit ever.” billie answers, “anytime i have a shirt with an anime character on it, it’s the coolest shirt i own.”

holding out the next image billie jumps in, “oof. this was a person who’s shit did not stink.”

“uhhhhh” you disagree, “she was, in a word: mean”

“hahahahaHAHA” billie laughs in her baby voice, “that’s not true!“

“don’t even, bil. you hated me back then” you mock pout.

“no i didn’t, i could never hate you” billie attempts to defend herself but you cut her off regardless, “you can and you have, bil.”

the two of you continue to score fit pictures, before billie gets too embarassed to continue.

she reads out the next question.

“as a fellow producer and songwriter, you’ve worked with everyone form justin bieber to kid cudi. name one person you’d never want to be in the studio with again” billie laughs out at the end of the question, a mischevious look on her face.

“hehehe” she devilishly chuckles.

“oh no” you hesitate to answer, already having someone in mind.

“yeah! YEAHHH!” billie screams in triumph, happy you’re gonna have to eat a death wing.

“um… um….” you blow a big puff of air out, “i don’t wanna punch down.”

“savage, y/n” billie quips.

“well?! i could punch WAY down” you laugh. “…sure, sure, i’ll eat a wing.”

you go to take a nibble out of the soy meat, the heat already hitting you like a cloud of smoke.

“woah! that was a fat bite, baby” billie exclaims.

“i’m hungry” you mumble back as you chew, but make sure to cover your mouth.

“careful with your eyes, pretty girl” billie warns you. you’re sat their with your hands out, palms to the sky, consciously putting them nowhere near your face.

“mmm, that’s yummy!” you shimmy your shoulders as you eat and go to pick up the next card.

“couple test! i’m going to write down my answer, and you have to guess my response. guess wrong and eat a death wing” you say the final part in a faux suspenseful voice.

billie chuckles at that.

“what is my favorite billie eilish song?” you ask.

the two of you both pick up ypur white boards as you ponder on your answers.

“i have no idea-“ billie beginds to say.

“dont over think it” you butt in.

“new or old?”

“new-ish” you reply, tryna help her out.

billie’s face shows utter confusion as she answers, “you like so many of my songs though”

“of course!”

“i mean, maybe skinny?” billie confirms her guess.

“good guess! it’s what was i made for”

“awww, you cutiepatootie” bille coos at you, “i literally forgot that song existed” she laughs.

“how?!” you question her, “i literally play it everyday.”

“i wanna eat a wing!” billie interrupts you, whining in her baby voice. the two of you really should have eaten before you go here.

“well you got it wrong so go ahead, baby” you laugh at her childish behavior.

“oooo, yum dude” billie comments once she’s taken a bite.

the director speaks to you from behind the cameras, “y/n, why did you pick what was i made for?”

“well,” you think on it, “i got to tag along with billie. we became part of the barbie entourage which was such a fun group to be part of. i just liked leeching” you joke.

“how’s the spice hitting?” the director goes on to ask billie.

“it’s great. just a little hard to think” she smiles at the camera.

now her turn to read a carsd, billie reads aloud, “couple test!” in a voice of mockery.

“what is my biggest fear?”

“surely it has to be something being under your bed. or furniture in general. you still jump up into bed from three feet out.”

“close! good answer. but nope. it is the salt monster” billie corrects you.

“oh yeah!” you laugh, clapping your hands in enjoyment.

“ok. fuck” you huff, preparing to eat another wing.

“i thought you were gonna get that one” she says

“sorry” you mumble as you take a bite.

“dont say sorry, my love. i just feel bad you have to eat another wing” billie reaches her hand out across the table for yours.

you smile at her kind ways.

“that one wasn’t so bad. the first one just lingers for so long. at least it’s yummy soy” you ramble on with your mouth full.

while you read out the next card, billie sits across from you, watching your mouth as you read. her own mouth is slightly swollen from the hot sauce. she looks how she looks in the bedroom… you shoudn’t be thinking of this right now.

“rank these artists form most to least tanented” you furrow your eyebrows as you speak, knowing this will be a tough one for billie.

“woah! who?!” she asks you, looking frightened already.

“tyler the creator, lana del rey, childish gambino, and justin bieber”

“i dont know if i can do it” billie shakes her head.

you nod understandingly, “ok, well, eat a death wing then.”

billie picks up a wing, bringing it to her face to smell it before she takes a bite. she hesitates and says, “it’s the lips that are a problem. the mouth is fine.”

“really? yeah, they do look a little red my love” you tease her.

billie goes ahead and takes a bite, doing her best to avoid her lips.

“you eat like a horse” you casually observe her, just saying what’s on your mind.

“hey! rude!” billie shouts back.

“not normally, just, with your lips all curled up like that” you scoff.

“mmm, yum!” billie expresses with her hand. “what’s awesome about hot ones is when the interview is over, we get to KEEP suffering.”

“true, true” you nod.

“alright,” billie says, “wildcard.”

as she says it, horns start to blare around the room, startling you both. you look utterly exhausted by the commotion whereas billie looks like a deer in headlights. she turns her head to the direction of the noise, her whole body jumping in a fright.

“what the fuck, dude” you say to the director, tired of their antics.

billie begins to read out another card, “it’s trajish- it’s a trajish- WOAH!” but her words come put as complete jibberish. clearly the spice is getting to her head.

you tease her blunder, “purrrr, exactly what i was thinking, bil!”

“shut up” she glares at you, “it’s tradition around here to put a little extra on the last wing. you and your opponent can add an extra dab to your final wings now.”

you simply let out a long sigh at the suggestion and take a sip of water whilst billie takes off her flannel.

“what’s the question?” you interrogate billie.

“give me a second, mama” she glares at you again. “don’t smile at me… challenge your other half to a compliement battle. first person to smile must eat a death wing.”

taking another chug of water, you say nothing, but silently hope for the pain in your mouth to ease. you just stare in front of you blankly.

“dude this is so sad” billie says, “i don’t like seeing you in pain.”

“that’s sweet, but not true” you side eye her.

billie’s mouth falls wide open and she kicks your leg under the table in annoyance at your innuendo.

“see! she’s even kicking me now” you make eye contact with the cameras.

the director steps in, counting you two down to your compliement battle.

“1… 2… 3… go!” he says.

billie goes first, “you’re the most talented person i know.”

no smile from you, the game continues.

“you’re a fast driver” you scoff, your face still neutral, “you’ve never been in a car accident, right?”

billie looks up and to the side, “um, nope. but is that even a compliment?”

she continues, “you’re the smartest person i know.”

“bil, i feel like you already said that.”

suddenly, all of your hearing goes black, all you can hear is a high-pitched ringing in your left ear. “i’ve gone deaf in one ear!” you cackle.

billie’s head shoots up like a meercat, she peers around the room looking for reassurance that you’re ok. her eyes fall on you now, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

you giggle the pain away, playing it off with a blasé “that’s crazy.”

billie begins to giggle alongside you, no longer worrying for her baby, but finding it funny now. she proceeds to put an extra dab of hot sauce on your wing, no regard for your recent injury.

“holy shit, billie. that’s so much” you take the wing and wipe some of the sauce off onto billie’s wing.

maggie cackles from behing the camera.

“uhm…” you think, “you look good in the DUMBEST fucking clothing” you ‘compliment’ her.

at this, billie lets out the loudest cackle, your favorite laugh of hers echoing around the room.

knowing she’s just lost, billie goes ahead and picks up the final wing.

“i laughed too, though” you pick up a wing as well, in solidarity.

“are you good, though?” billie checks in with you.

“it cant get worse” you shrug.

billie raises her eyebrows in a ‘for real?!’ look, “it can! it totally can.”

“well, bone apple teeth” you cheers your wings together

“love you” billie says before she takes a bite. as soon as she does, “ugh! that’s disgusting!”

“it’s a tie!” the producer calls out.

“a tie?! i didn’t take one sip of drink the whole time!” billie tries to bargain her way into a win.

“you’re so competetive” you roll your eyes, “billie, who doesn’t have enough trophies…” you joke, “congratulations, this is yours” you hand her the trophy.

billie holds up the plastic chicken wing triumphantly and makes a speech, “thank you so much for having me on the show…”

her sentence trails off and she just looks around the room for a long pregnant pause. the room fills with laughter at her comedic timing.

“stream hit me hard and soft… i’m like feeling the need to tell you all the people i’ve ever hooked up with for some reason” she rambles on.

“ahahaha” you burst out laughing.

billie goes to take a bit of the trophy but to no avail, “oh my god! you didn’t even make that a little bit edible.”

at his, the room erupts into applause and you two have finished the interview.

“good job, baby” you congratulate billie on her win.

“thanks, love” billie stands up and walks over to you. “are you ok?” she asks.

“i think i have hot sauce in my eye” you laugh while rubbing your eyes.

“come here” billie commands as she dips a clean serviette into her ice water. she goes to wipe your eyes and clean them out.

“better?” billie questions you, your face cupped in her hand.

“much” you cheese before leaning in for a kiss.

billie steps back and goes back towards her seat before yelling in a silly voice, “should i eat the last one… or nah?!”

you laugh at her, stopped by her hurling her chair into the distance.

“steve from blues clues throws a chair into the liminal space” you joke, causing billie to keel over in laughter.

[theseh00perscanh00p]

Par for the Heart: Part 11

paige x azzi

a/n: Okay so it's a lil short, sorry part 10 took a lot of brain power I'm not gonna lie lol. I was gonna post an even shorter version of this but woke up with some new inspiration so here it is. It's like 50/50 fluff to smut ratio on this one. Thanks to the anon with the idea hope you enjoy.

word count: 4.6k

"The Rhythm of Us"

It didn’t happen overnight.

There were no big declarations. No packed U-Hauls.

Just one moment at a time.

Day One: Closet Territory

Azzi came home from PT to find Paige elbow-deep in the back of her closet, old hoodies and half-folded gym clothes littered across the bed.

“Are we cleaning out skeletons or…?”

Paige peeked out from behind a row of hangers, flushed and focused. “I’m making space. For your stuff.”

Azzi blinked. “You’re… what?”

“You said your drawer was full. So I’m just—reworking the closet situation.” Paige held up one of her ancient crewnecks. “Like… do I need this vintage intramural bowling team sweatshirt?”

Azzi’s grin grew slow and fond. “You’re letting me take over your closet?”

“I’m making room,” Paige corrected. “You’re not taking over. It’s shared real estate now.”

Azzi walked forward, brushing a kiss to her temple. “You’re dangerously good at this whole girlfriend thing.”

Day Two: Packing the Old Life

On Saturday, Paige pulled into Azzi’s driveway with a trunk full of empty bins, her playlist softly humming a SZA deep cut.

Azzi stared at the bins. “You’re really gonna help me pack?”

Paige gave her a look. “Do you want to spend hours alone deciding which T-shirts are emotional support and which can be donated?”

Azzi laughed. “You’re right. I need emotional backup.”

They spent the afternoon sorting. Paige sat cross-legged on Azzi’s rug while Azzi held up items and told stories: this hoodie from a college championship, that pair of sneakers she wore to her first pro game.

Paige didn’t rush. She didn’t push.

She just kept asking: “Does this feel like something you want to bring into our home?”

And when they reached the kitchen, Paige carefully plucked the photo from the side of Azzi’s fridge—one from the day they met on the golf course candidly laughing together—and the heart magnet that had always kept it there.

She held it up. “This one’s coming too, right?”

Azzi nodded quietly. “Yeah. That one’s never staying behind.”

Day Four: Lowe’s & New Beginnings

It was Monday when Paige drove them to Lowe’s under the guise of “errands.”

Azzi side-eyed her when they bypassed every aisle except the key-cutting kiosk and the seasonal welcome mats.

“Subtle,” Azzi teased. “Really easing me into this domestic fantasy.”

Paige grinned, flipping through the mats. “Okay but hear me out—this one says ‘Welcome-ish. Depends who you are.’ That feels accurate, right?”

Azzi pointed to one that just said Home Is Wherever I’m With You. “Too on the nose?”

Paige read it twice. Then smiled softly. “Kind of perfect.”

As they waited for the guy to cut a second key, Paige placed the chosen mat under one arm and handed Azzi the freshly made key with a red heart on it.

Azzi turned it over in her hand. “So… this is really happening.”

“It’s already happened,” Paige said. “We’re just catching up.”

By the end of the week, Azzi’s sneakers were stacked next to Paige’s, her cereal box was in the pantry, and the photo and heart magnet were proudly fixed on the fridge like they’d always been there.

And one night, curled up on the couch with Azzi’s head in her lap, Paige watched their new doormat catch the last of the porch light through the open front door.

Home.

Together.

No question about it.

—-

The mornings had started to blur in the best way.

Not in chaos, not in stress — just in routine. Familiarity. A rhythm so smooth they barely had to speak to keep pace with each other.

Azzi was always the first one up. Not because she was a morning person, but because her body still woke her at 7 a.m. sharp whether she liked it or not. These days, she stayed in bed a little longer, scrolling, stretching, listening to the faint sounds of Paige’s breath beside her.

By 7:30, Paige would stir, eyes squinting open, her hand instinctively reaching for Azzi beneath the sheets.

“Coffee?” she’d mumble, already half asleep again.

“Already going,” Azzi would reply, leaning over to kiss her forehead before swinging her legs out of bed.

The kitchen was their shared dance floor.

Azzi moved slower these days, still a bit stiff post-surgery, but she had her groove back enough to putter around in Paige’s — now their — oversized hoodie and slide around in mismatched socks. Paige would join her ten minutes later, sleep-stunned and leaning against the counter like she hadn’t been awake for more than ninety seconds.

They didn’t talk much in the mornings. Just soft clinks of mugs and occasional hums from the playlist Paige always queued up — a rotation of soulful jazz and old-school R&B that made the whole house feel like a dream.

Somehow, without ever agreeing on it, they had their roles.

Azzi ran point on breakfast. Paige handled lunch. Azzi handled laundry. Paige took out the trash. Groceries were a team sport. So were Target runs. So were movie nights. So were late-night cravings for cookies and cereal at 2 a.m.

There was no learning curve. No awkward fights about drawer space or who left the lights on. It was like their lives had been quietly orbiting each other for years and had finally aligned.

And that was the part that scared them both a little — how easy it was.

Azzi leaned back against the counter one morning, sipping her coffee, watching Paige slice a banana to top their yogurt bowls. Her shirt was rumpled, hair a mess, and she was humming off-key to the song playing through the speaker.

Paige glanced up, catching her stare. “What?”

Azzi blinked. “Nothing.”

“You’re doing the staring in love thing again.”

Azzi smiled, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Paige’s shoulder. “You say that like it’s a crime.”

“I mean,” Paige teased, setting down the banana, “you could at least pretend you’re not obsessed with me.”

“Nope,” Azzi said, smug now. “Fully obsessed. You’re doomed.”

Paige laughed and turned to face her fully. “If this is what doomed feels like, I’ll take it.”

There was a pause. A soft, still moment as they stood there in their kitchen, surrounded by post-it notes on the fridge, two half-full mugs, and a faint scent of cinnamon still lingering from last night’s late-night toast.

And just like that — they went back to breakfast.

Easy.

Uncomplicated.

Like it had always been this way.

—-

The gym was nearly empty, save for the thud of a medicine ball hitting the floor and the low hum of whatever playlist Paige had thrown on shuffle. It was mostly old-school hip hop with just enough bass to keep them moving — and maybe a little showing off.

Paige had arrived straight from her swing session, already warm and riding a high from her coach’s praise. Azzi was mid-rep when she walked in, while she powered through banded hip bridges like she had something to prove.

They exchanged a quick kiss, sweaty foreheads and all, before diving in.

It wasn’t long before the room felt more like their own personal playground.

“Form check,” Paige said from behind Azzi, watching her posture through the mirror as she attempted a modified deadlift with a dumbbell in one hand and a stubborn determination in the other.

Azzi groaned. “You’re obsessed with my form.”

“I’m obsessed with you not hurting yourself again.”

Azzi looked at her in the mirror, smirking. “You just like the view.”

“Not denying it,” Paige muttered, eyes fixed and appreciative.

The hour passed in circuits and teasing — Paige counting reps out loud while purposefully skipping numbers to confuse Azzi, Azzi lightly smacking her with a resistance band in retaliation. But through it all, they stayed in sync. The kind of sync that came from trust. Knowing how the other moved. When to push. When to rest.

Azzi was cooling down, stretching against the wall while Paige finished a final round of incline push-ups, when it hit her.

The clarity was so quiet it almost didn’t register at first. Just the way Paige’s brows furrowed in concentration. The tiny satisfied breath she let out at the end of each set. The casual way she tossed her towel over her shoulder and turned to Azzi with a wink.

There was no performance here. No curated version of love.

It was just them — tired, sore, flushed, and whole.

And suddenly Azzi felt it in her chest like a quiet knock.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

Not just the love. But the partnership. The steady hum of compatibility that made hard things feel easier. That made sweat and sore muscles feel like a date. That made even the silence between sets feel… full.

Paige walked over and flopped down next to her on the floor, breath heavy, loose hair damp at her temple. “You good?”

Azzi nodded, eyes soft. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“Dangerous,” Paige teased, nudging her shoulder.

But Azzi didn’t laugh this time. She leaned in, pressed a kiss to Paige’s temple, and whispered, “You’re it for me, you know that?”

Paige stilled, surprised by the sudden seriousness. “Yeah?”

Azzi nodded. “You make the hard things feel lighter. The ordinary things feel bigger. The quiet things feel safe.”

Paige blinked, caught in the moment. “I didn’t even say anything this time.”

“You didn’t have to,” Azzi said. “You just… showed up.”

Paige smiled, reaching for her hand. “Well, good thing I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat there for a while on the rubber flooring, fingers intertwined, the sweat between them dried and replaced by something weightier — something sweeter.

Not a milestone.

Not a grand gesture.

Just a shared routine that somehow became proof of forever.

—-

They were tangled in bed, limbs wrapped, legs slotted between each other beneath the soft weight of the blanket. The glow of a bedside lamp cast a golden halo across Azzi’s bare shoulder as she lay half on top of Paige, tracing small shapes on her stomach with lazy fingers.

They’d been quiet for a while—quiet in that way only two people could be when the silence was full of safety, not space.

Then Azzi broke it, her voice a little hesitant but laced with curiosity.

“If I was a worm, would you still love me?”

Paige cracked an eye open, brow furrowing. “A worm?”

Azzi nodded seriously, though her lips were twitching. “Like—a little one. Real squiggly.”

Paige groaned, turning her head to bury it into the pillow. “Why are you like this.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“I’d keep you in a compost bin and feed you strawberries,” Paige muttered dramatically. “But yeah, I’d still love you. Even as a worm.”

Azzi grinned. “Okay, good. Now… would you still love me if I was bald?”

That got Paige to look up. “Bald??”

Azzi lifted a brow, feigning seriousness. “Yes. No hair. What if I had a bad haircut and had to shave it all off and start from scratch? What if my edges were gone forever? What then?”

Paige blinked at her. “That’s so random.”

“It’s not! It’s valid!” Azzi argued, trying not to laugh. “I just wanna know if your love is follicle-deep or not.”

Paige propped herself up on an elbow, eyes soft. “Baby… you could be bald, blonde, or blue-haired, and I’d still be in love with you.”

Azzi let her smile bloom fully this time. “Even if I had, like… one of those mullets with lightning bolts shaved into the side?”

“Okay,” Paige said, hand raised. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Azzi snorted, then went quiet for a beat—still drawing patterns absently on Paige’s skin.

Paige noticed the shift. “What?”

Azzi looked up, meeting her eyes. “Nothing.”

“Az.”

Azzi hesitated, then said it—soft and low, almost like she was still testing the words.

“Would you… still love me if I wanted to try something in bed?”

Paige’s expression didn’t falter, but something in her settled. She tucked a strand of Azzi’s hair behind her ear and asked gently, “What kind of something?”

Azzi gave her a look. That mix of shy and bold she wore like no one else.

“It’s not like… weird or anything. I just… I’ve been thinking.”

Azzi hesitated, her eyes fixed on her hand as it lazily circled Paige’s navel. “Have you ever, like… scissored before?”

Paige blinked. Then blinked again.

“…Do I get to plead the fifth?” she said, cheeks already flushing with heat.

Azzi’s grin was immediate. “You totally have.”

Paige groaned, throwing a hand over her face. “It barely counts. It was a disaster. Like—clumsy naked bumper cars with bad steering. We got so frustrated we gave up and ordered Thai food instead.”

Azzi let out a loud laugh. “I can’t believe you just called it that.”

“It’s accurate.”

“Well…” Azzi’s voice dropped an octave, her grin softening into something more curious. “I’ve been thinking about it. Not in like, a porn-y way. Just… being that close. That open. All that skin. It’s kind of hot.”

Paige tilted her head, watching her. “You’ve never tried?”

Azzi shook her head, a blush creeping in. “No. But I want to. With you.”

Something in Paige melted. She cupped the back of Azzi’s neck and pulled her in for a slow kiss—deep, tender, laced with promise.

“Then let’s find out,” she whispered.

Paige shifted onto her back, and Azzi followed, crawling over her, straddling her thigh with a nervous but eager glint in her eyes.

“Like this?” she asked, her slick center barely grazing Paige’s.

“Closer,” Paige murmured, gripping her hips. “I want to feel all of you.”

Azzi adjusted, lowering herself until their cores met—warm and wet and shivery. The contact made both of them gasp.

They started slow. Tentative rolls of the hips. Gentle friction. Azzi’s breath caught as they aligned just right, her clit brushing against Paige’s in a glide that sent a pulse straight through her spine.

Paige groaned, her hands anchoring Azzi tighter. “Oh, fuck. Just like that.”

They rocked together, rhythm syncing, laughter fading into soft moans and breathless gasps. Azzi’s movements grew bolder, more desperate as the friction built—a sweet, aching heat that curled in her belly and stole her breath.

“Oh—Paige—fuck—”

Her head fell back, jaw slack, thighs starting to tremble as pleasure surged higher, hotter, sharper. Paige was watching her like she was witnessing something sacred.

Then Azzi’s whole body arched forward with a strangled cry, her orgasm crashing over her—wetness flooding between them, soaking skin, thighs, the sheets beneath.

She froze.

Paige stared up at her, dazed. “Wait. Did you just—?”

Azzi’s face went crimson. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know I could—oh my God—”

Paige’s hands locked around her hips, holding her there. “Don’t you dare move. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Azzi tried to squirm away. Paige wouldn’t let her.

“Nope. You’re not escaping. Not after that. I need to see it again. Feel it.”

Azzi’s breath stuttered. “What are you—”

Paige was already shifting down, sliding between Azzi’s thighs with purpose.

“I want you to come on my mouth this time.”

Azzi whimpered, her body already oversensitive and desperate. Paige guided her up, positioning her above her face.

Azzi hesitated. “What if I—”

“I want all of it,” Paige growled, voice thick with hunger. “Drip for me, baby.”

The second her mouth met Azzi’s clit, Azzi broke.

Her hips jerked, breath hitched. Paige moaned into her, tongue circling, sucking, devouring her like she was starved. Her hands gripped Azzi’s ass, grounding her, pulling her in deeper.

Azzi was shaking, crying out, hips grinding harder with every pass of Paige’s tongue.

And when Paige sucked just right—deep and slow and greedy—Azzi shattered again.

A tidal wave of release rushed out of her, coating Paige’s mouth, her chin, her throat. Azzi nearly collapsed, limbs giving out as her orgasm rolled through her in tremors.

Paige was wrecked beneath her—lips glossy, face drenched, eyes alight with awe.

“Holy fuck,” she whispered. “I’m in love. And so, so wet.”

Azzi was still panting, dazed, barely able to speak. “You’re… insane.”

Paige grinned, licking her lips. “And you, Azzi, are a work of art.”

Azzi was still catching her breath, sprawled across the sheets with her head resting on Paige’s shoulder. Her body was warm and limp, skin flushed, thighs still twitching occasionally from the aftershocks.

Paige looked equally wrecked—lips swollen, face glistening, hair mussed beyond repair. But her hand hadn’t stopped moving—grazing over Azzi’s hip, then dipping lower to trace along her still-sensitive inner thigh.

Azzi whimpered. “Paige…”

“What?” Paige said, innocent as sin. “I’m just touching.”

“You’re touching like you’re about to start something.”

“I am,” Paige said, voice low, teasing. “You said you’d never done that before. We’re celebrating. Science says repetition improves retention.”

Azzi snorted, even as her breath caught when Paige’s fingers drifted between her legs again. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige turned her head, kissed Azzi’s temple, then her cheek. “Mmhm. And you’re still soaked. You feel that?”

Azzi whimpered again as Paige’s fingers dipped into the wet heat between her legs, slow and lazy. “Paige—”

“You can take one more,” Paige whispered, voice darkening. “Just one more. Let me make it messy.”

Azzi let out a shaky breath. “I’m already—so sensitive—”

“I know,” Paige said, dragging her fingers up to circle her clit in featherlight strokes. “That’s why it’s gonna be so fucking good.”

Azzi tried to resist—tried to stay still—but her hips had a mind of their own, grinding into Paige’s hand with a need that bloomed fast and hot. She bit her lip hard, eyes fluttering shut.

Paige’s touch stayed gentle at first, coaxing her open again, drawing small circles until Azzi was panting into her neck. “That’s it,” Paige murmured, nipping at her ear. “Let me feel you come on my hand.”

She slid two fingers in—slow, deliberate. Azzi arched into her with a gasp, nails digging into Paige’s arm.

Paige curled her fingers just right. “Fuck, yes. That’s the spot, isn’t it?”

Azzi couldn’t answer—her moans were spilling too freely now. Paige worked her open, fingers slick and sure, her thumb rubbing tight, dirty circles over her clit.

“I love how you fall apart for me,” Paige breathed, speeding up just enough to send Azzi spiraling. “So sexy like this, Az. Begging without even realizing it.”

Azzi’s legs started to tremble again, thighs clenching around Paige’s hand. “I’m close—I’m so—oh God—”

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Let go.”

And Azzi did—her third orgasm ripping through her with a strangled cry, her whole body bucking, hips grinding down hard as Paige fucked her through it, relentless and tender all at once.

Azzi collapsed again, completely undone—sweat-slick and gasping, legs twitching, her cheek pressed to Paige’s chest as she tried to breathe through the comedown.

Paige slowly slipped her fingers out, bringing them to her mouth with a hum of satisfaction. “You taste like victory.”

Azzi weakly slapped her side. “You’re the worst.”

“You love it.”

“Unfortunately,” Azzi mumbled, eyes closed. “You’re never allowed to leave this bed.”

“Deal,” Paige said, curling her arm around her. “But if we’re trapped here, I’m gonna need hydration… and maybe snacks between orgasms.”

Azzi opened one eye. “Between?”

Paige smirked. “We’re only at round three.”

Azzi groaned. “I created a monster.”

Paige kissed her shoulder. “No, baby. You unleashed her.”

And just like that, Azzi was grinning again—even as her thighs ached and her body trembled—because with Paige, even exhaustion came with a promise of more.

And neither of them was close to done.

Paige was lying there smug and satisfied, her arm draped lazily around Azzi’s waist, the scent of sex and sweat thick in the air. Her lips were still wet from Azzi’s last orgasm, and she looked like she could stay in that blissed-out daze forever.

Azzi let her.

For a minute.

Then, slowly, she started tracing a single finger along the slope of Paige’s ribcage, dragging her nails just lightly enough to make Paige twitch.

Paige glanced down. “What are you doing?”

Azzi didn’t answer. She just smiled—mischievous and dangerous—and slipped her thigh between Paige’s legs, nudging gently.

Paige’s breath caught. “Az…”

“You’ve been real generous tonight,” Azzi murmured, kissing her collarbone. “But I want to see you come undone.”

Paige opened her mouth to respond—but whatever she was going to say disappeared when Azzi slid her hand down her stomach and cupped her, fingers pressing into the soft heat between her thighs.

“You’re soaked,” Azzi whispered, lips brushing Paige’s ear. “You’ve been dripping for me this whole time.”

Paige whimpered, her hips shifting instinctively into Azzi’s touch. “You’re not playing fair.”

“I’m not playing at all,” Azzi said, voice low and dangerous.

Before Paige could recover, Azzi slid down her body, kissing her way lower—over her breasts, pausing to take one nipple into her mouth, sucking hard until Paige gasped and arched up into her.

Then lower still.

When she reached Paige’s thighs, Azzi didn’t rush. She kissed the inside of one, then the other, holding Paige open with strong hands and looking up with eyes full of heat.

“I want to ruin you,” Azzi said softly.

Paige groaned, head falling back. “God, please.”

Azzi grinned—and then her mouth was on her.

Hot, wet, relentless.

She licked from bottom to top, flat and slow, before circling Paige’s clit with the tip of her tongue—teasing, maddening. Paige’s hands immediately shot down to Azzi’s hair, hips jerking up as she moaned deep and broken.

Azzi kept going.

Sucking.

Licking.

Fucking her with her tongue.

Paige was panting, her whole body tightening. “Shit—Azzi—don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop—”

Azzi didn’t. If anything, she doubled down—gripping Paige’s hips, pulling her closer, fucking her deeper with every stroke of her tongue. She moaned into her, letting the vibration reverberate through Paige’s core.

It worked.

Paige was spiraling—hips bucking, thighs clamping around Azzi’s head, words dissolving into helpless cries. Her orgasm slammed into her fast and hard, stealing the air from her lungs.

But Azzi didn’t let up.

She kept going—eating her through it, over it, into it—until Paige was thrashing, another wave already building behind the first.

“Azzi—fuck—I can’t—oh my God—”

“Yes you can,” Azzi growled, voice dark and wrecked, fingers now sliding inside her—deep and slow and intentional. “You’re gonna give me one more. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers while you come on my tongue.”

Paige was gone.

Utterly undone.

Her second orgasm crashed through her with a scream, legs trembling, body thrashing so hard Azzi had to hold her down. She came hard—wet and raw and loud, until she collapsed back into the bed, boneless and dazed.

Azzi finally pulled back, mouth and chin drenched, eyes blazing.

She crawled back up, straddling Paige’s hips, dragging her fingers through the mess between them and bringing them to Paige’s mouth. “Taste how fucking good you are.”

Paige sucked her fingers in with a moan, dazed and glassy-eyed. “You’re a menace.”

Azzi leaned down, kissing her slow and deep, tongue slipping past her lips.

“No,” she whispered against her mouth. “I’m yours.”

Paige shuddered.

And smiled.

“Okay,” she said weakly. “But I need like… eight to twelve business days to recover.”

Azzi laughed, pulling her into her chest. “You’ve got twelve hours. Then I’m going again.”

Paige groaned. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Nah,” Azzi murmured, kissing her hair. “I’m just gonna keep loving you until you can’t see straight.”

—-

The morning sun was already creeping in by the time Paige finally cracked an eye open. Her body ached in that deliciously sore kind of way — muscles used, knees bruised, and thighs definitely still shaking a little. She rolled onto her back with a groan, one arm flopping over her eyes.

From the bathroom, the sound of a toothbrush being halfheartedly wielded echoed out.

“You alive in there?” Paige called hoarsely.

Azzi’s laugh was scratchy. “Barely. My legs are mad at me. You should be arrested.”

“I told you to tap out.”

“You said that after round four!”

“Exactly.”

Azzi emerged a minute later, her curls piled into a loose bun, one of Paige’s oversized tees hanging off her frame. She limped dramatically to the bed, flopping down beside her.

“You owe me breakfast and electrolytes,” she mumbled.

“You said, and I quote, ‘I’m an athlete, I can handle it.’”

“I also said I’d marry you if you hit that one spot again and you did so, like… you’re stuck with me now.”

Paige smirked, turning on her side to nuzzle into Azzi’s shoulder. “Noted.”

They lay there quietly for a while, sore and content, scrolling and occasionally stealing sips from each other’s water bottles.

Then Azzi rolled her head lazily toward her. “You know… if either one of us had a dick, we’d probably be pregnant right now.”

Paige burst out laughing. “Oh my god. Probably.”

“That was a full-blown Olympic marathon. We would’ve made twins.”

“Triplets,” Paige said, grinning. “Our legacy would be secure.”

Azzi snorted. “Not us having a starting five by accident.”

The joke passed between them like warm sunlight.

But Paige didn’t laugh again right away. She stared at the ceiling for a beat, lips pressing into a thoughtful line.

Azzi noticed.

“Hey,” she said softly. “What’s that face?”

Paige hesitated, then turned onto her side again, facing Azzi. Her fingers found the edge of Azzi’s shirt and toyed with it absently.

“I know we joke about it,” she said quietly. “The kids thing. But… I’ve always known that’s something I want. For real.”

Azzi blinked, caught slightly off guard by the sudden seriousness. Paige’s eyes searched hers.

“I’m not saying tomorrow or anything,” Paige added quickly. “But one day. I want a family. A house with too many shoes by the door. Chaos. Mornings that start early and never go to plan. I want that. And I think… I needed to ask if you want it too.”

Azzi was quiet for a long moment. Not because she was unsure — but because the weight of how much this meant to Paige was written all over her face.

Then, slowly, she reached out and took Paige’s hand.

“I do,” she said softly. “I want that too.”

Paige’s breath hitched.

Azzi squeezed her fingers. “I’ve thought about it. Even before us. I just… never imagined I’d feel safe enough with someone to even say it out loud. But with you? It’s the first time it feels possible. Like it could actually work. Like we’d make it work.”

Paige blinked fast. “You’re sure?”

Azzi smiled. “I’m sure. Though I will need a minimum of three years to mentally recover from last night’s trauma before raising children.”

They both laughed — a mix of nerves and joy and sheer relief — before Paige leaned in and kissed her slow and deep.

When they broke apart, Azzi rested her forehead against Paige’s. “You really thought I’d say no?”

Paige nodded a little. “I did. And I would’ve… figured it out. But it would’ve broken my heart.”

“Well,” Azzi whispered, “lucky for you… your heart is very much intact. And definitely overachieving.”

Paige beamed.

“Also,” Azzi added, “we are the hot moms at the school pick-up. It’s kind of a requirement.”

“Oh 100%. PTA moms will hate us. We’ll love that.”

“And our kids will definitely lie and say you used to be in the Olympics.”

Paige laughed into her neck. “I mean… it could still happen.”

Azzi pulled her close again, wrapping both arms around her.

It wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t a date set. But it was a promise — a shared daydream now fully spoken into existence.

And that was enough. For now.

[hollaforlyla]

Kai dating hdcs??????

dating the ninja: series (headcanons) | kai smith gn!reader!! ☆♡☆

warnings: some suggustive mentioned, no smut

finally some new writing <3

a/n: chat im obsessed with him ☹️

☆ feel like he will be the type of boyfriend to be so chill with you, be will start to be so sarcastic with you.

☆ "did you seriously eat all the cookies?" "no, it was a ghost." "bitch."

☆ he pulls you in for kisses whenever he can. literally does nor care who sees.

☆ in the earlier seasons, where the serpents were still ninjago's main villains; when lloyd was still a child before the spell. you n kai were non-stop kissing lol.

☆ lloyd and kissing was a huge ick for him at the time, so he would always stare at you two with a "brotha'ewwh" face

☆ teases you to the point you'll become redder then his gi. and he 100% uses it to his advantage!

☆ yall fight like an old married couple, i just feel like he will start stupid little arguments because he can.

☆ "I HATE YOUUUUU" "OH YEAH, WELL NEXT TIME DONT STEAL MY MONOPLY!!" "y/n... give kai the money- please-you landed on his property-" "NO! THEY'RE IN JAIL IM NOT GIVING MONEY TO A CRIMINAL!" "that's not how you...PLAYYYY!!"

☆ yes i did it lol

☆ his actually a good comforter, he grew up taking care of nya; so he has the big brother comfort DOWN!!

☆ "hey, you did amazing in training today!" "what are you upset about, cheer up babe, let's go get some ice cream!" "baby...baby...i see your upset, you can't keep frowning forever, you know?"

☆ "do you want cuddles?" he would already be holding you asking this question, his forehead touching yours.

☆ his favorite places to kiss you are the lips. was this not obvious in the beginning. his hands are on your hips, or around your shoulders...usually would also hump you up against his waistforcing your legs to wrap around his hips.

☆ when you two make out YOU TWO MAKE OUT!! dude is not playing when it comes to you and your body

☆ compliments the fuck outta you when making out. he loves your body, of course that is not the reason he is dating you, he may love your body but there were many other things he fell for when meeting you.

☆ loves to have sleepovers with you. LOVES COMING OVER TO YOUR PLACE!!

☆ when you offer sleepovers he begs to have them at your place. one, your bed is comfortable as fuck and two, you have so many snacks it makes him crazy.

☆ another reason being he loves sleeping with you. he hugs you in his sleep and wraps his legs around your own...you are basically his teddy bear.

☆ you do get too hot, which ends with you moving more around in your bed. once you woke up with your foot on his face and your head near his foot and yall were so confused.

(guys i love him so much, i'll add more tmrw<3)

[probablysimpledreams]

Let Me Take Care of Ya, Yeah? (Hawks x reader: NSFW)

a/n: holy shit I meant to finish this like 2 months ago but then it just sat in my drafts until today loll BUT here's a lil hawks smut for yall<33 been thinking about how much of a #freak he secretly is and how he'd enjoy period sex (a lil too much lol) so here's a pic on it!

cw: period sex (and Hawks is v into it), afab reader, possessive Hawks

wc: 1747

Despite only dating for a few months, you have already crossed off many of Hawks' "firsts." First date, first kiss, first blow job, etc. And after he woke up to you loudly cursing a new one was added to the list: first period he was home for.

Due to his insanely busy work schedule, he had actually never been home when you've started your cycle before. So between that and the fact you are the first person he ever dated, Hawks had no clue what to do. He stayed frozen in bed, watching as you scramble to get up and examine the mess you had unknowingly made in your sleep.

"Shit I'm sorry Kei," you apologize. He stays quiet as he thinks about and processes the situation, making you frown. All you can think about is how disgusted he must be.

"What? No don't apologize baby," he confidently reassures you. A handful of his wings detach from his back smoothly before quickly attaching to you and pulling you into the bathroom. "You just do what you need to feel good, I'll handle the rest ya?" He calls out from the bedroom as he begins changing out the sheets. His feathers move around the bathroom, drawing you a warm bath and rubbing against your face affectionately before returning to Hawks.

Now that you were out of the room, Hawks let his confident demeanor fall as he scrambled to grab his phone. He began going down a Reddit rabbit hole to learn about periods and, most importantly, what he as your boyfriend should be doing when that time of the month comes. He wasted no time flying off to store so that when you got out of the bath you'd be greeted with your favorite take out order, chocolates, and a sweet note before heading out to work.

As he patrolled the quiet city streets, Hawks couldn't stop worrying about you. He wanted to do more for you, the need to take care of you stronger than usual. He decides to fall back down the Reddit rabbit hole, hoping to find more he can do for you. His eyes widen, smirk tugging at his lips as he begins reading the benefits of period sex. After a quick read, he sends you a sweet text before sliding his phone back into his pocket, thinking long and hard on what the night will bring

---------

The sun setting marked the end of his patrol shift and thankfully the Commission had no other tasks for him. Hawks basically teleported home, happily entering the apartment as he headed towards the bedroom. The exhaustion in his body began washing away the moment he laid eyes on you laying in bed, wearing one of his old t-shirts and pair of boxers as pajamas while you scroll on your phone. The scent of your body wash and lotion becomes stronger as he moves further into the room, causing his wings to twitch in anticipation. Your attention moves from your phone screen up to your boyfriend, smiling as he climbs onto the bed. Before a word could leave your mouth, his begins kissing you rough and eagerly.

"Missed me huh?" you teased, giggling as you try to catch your breath. You start start playing with his hair, thinking he needs some gentle affection before heading to bed. However as his lips began trailing down your neck, lightly nipping at the exposed flesh, you realized his true needs. "Mmm K-Keigo....but I'm on my period," you weakly protested, trying to push him away.

"Yeah I know," he responds quickly before returning to kissing your skin.

"And you still want to have sex? You don't just want a blow job or something?"

He laughed at your question, making your eyebrows furrow. One of his hands goes to cup the side of your face, thumb rubbing your cheek gently as his other hand moves to your waist, fingers teasing the elastic of your underwear. He smirks as your expression relaxes, body reacting to his touches. "Let me take care of ya, yeah?" he whispers in your ear before kissing your forehead. "Gonna make you feel so good baby," his hand slides in your underwear, fingers rubbing between your folds causing you to squirm. The way your body reacts plus the wetness of your arousal and blood coating his fingers makes him moan. After a few more teasing touches, Hawks pulls his hand out and examines his fingers. The shine and hint of red on his skin made his cock and feathers twitch.

"Stay here, Imma grab a towel for you to lay on. I have a feeling you're gonna be messy~" he teases as he gets off the bed, heading into the bathroom. He returns quickly, allowing his feathers to place the towel over the sheets as he holds you in his arms before placing you onto the towel. Once back in bed he wastes no time getting both of you fully undressed, roughly kissing your lips before moving to your chest.

"Mmm ffffuck K-Kei!!" you cry as he kisses around your collarbone and slides two fingers inside you.

"God you're so wet baby," he groans as he fingers you. The sound of him fingering you echoes throughout the apartment and it drives him crazy. He loves pleasing you, so every sound from your body and mouth has him chasing more and more. He feels you clench around his fingers, a loud moan leaving his lips as you suck him deeper into you. He takes it as his sign to go faster, thumb rubbing your clit before the fingers inside you curl upward. The intensity of the pleasure and heightened sensitivity from your hormones cause your orgasm to wash over you without much warning. Hawks praises you as he fingers you through your high, cooing sweetly in your ear. But you can't focus on anything other than the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body as you grip onto his shoulders, crying and shaking before your body sinks into the bed. You feel sweaty, your mind cloudy, and body still trembling as you lay out on the towel. Once you regain some form of composure your gaze moves to your boyfriend whose expression was once you had never seen on his face before. You watched as he stayed above you, his gaze sharp on his fingers coated in your cum and blood. His expression was animalistic, hungry even. Hawks was no stranger to blood on his hands, but this was different. This was a piece of you. A new way to mark you as his, a new way to provide you pleasure. He had never seen you cum so hard and fast before, it was driving him wild. He takes his stained fingers and begins tracing circles on your inner thighs, chuckling as you whine and as the blood sticks to your skin like it does his. He felt closer to you than ever before, and was not ready to let that high go away. His wings puffed out as he grabbed his dick, whining as he pumps it slowly. Your cum and blood left on his fingers began mixing with the precum leaking from his dick, and the sight made him shudder.

"Ready for more baby? Gotta make sure ya feel real good," his voice is dripping with lust and it makes you want to rub your thighs together. You had never expected to see him like this, but you sure weren't;t complaining. You were so use to men not caring about your pleasure or needs, but here was your gorgeous boyfriend almost cumming from the site of pleasuring you during the time of the month you loathed.

"P-please Kei," you whine, all those needy and horny feelings washing over your body again.

"Anything for you ______," he leans down to kiss you gently before sliding his dick inside you. You both moan into the kiss as you feel him stretch you out and he feels you squeeze around him. "Fuck this pussy is so good...too damn good," he babbles as he begins fucking you. He starts out gentle, worried he may hurt you if you're still feeling overstimulated from earlier. The knot in your stomach is already forming but you're too overwhelmed by pleasure to speak, so instead you tug harshly at Hawks' hair to communicate your needs. He picks up instantly on the message, moving from slow thrusts to rough, quick ones. You whine and cry out his name, back arching off the bed as tears fall from your eyes. Your hands don't leave his hair, tugging at the messy golden strands as he pulls you closer and closer to that sweet release.

"Y-you like that huh? Like how-fuck-good I fuck you huh baby?"

"Y-yes yes ahhhh," you somehow manage to choke out the words. Your praise only makes him needier, pulling himself fully out of you before slamming right back in. It only takes a couple more rough, deep thrusts until you're cumming around him again. He fucks you through it, once again praising you as you come undone around him. You cry and whine as it takes him a couple thrusts more until he cums hard and heavy inside you, pushing it as deep inside you as possible. You watch as his wings spread out behind him, shaking as he fills you up.

The room now is quiet aside from you both panting, and the scent of sex lingers like a thick fog. He pulls out of you before collapsing against your chest, a stupid cheesy grin painted across his sweaty face. You couldn't help but smile back at him, pushing strands of hair out of his face.

"Cramps feeling better?" he asks, gently rubbing your lower stomach.

"Mmhmm," you nod, melting into his sweet touches. "However now I'm sore for a whole different reason," you laugh. His cheek flush before he laughs with you. The two of you stay cuddled up in bed, not caring about the sweat or blood sticking on your skin. He peppers a few more gentle kisses, nuzzling into your neck as he lets out a few soft coos. The vibrations from the sound against your skin tickles, causing you to squirm and laugh.

"I love you Keigo," you sigh happily, rubbing his back and smiling at the way his wing flutter when your finger tips grace over them.

"I love you too ________," he hums, eyes beginning to fall close. "So damn much."

[sinning-23]

Baby Mama (OPLA HEADCANNONS)

In honor of mothers day, here some little headcannons I cooked up for our faves! Hope yall enjoy lol

Luffy

-This mf was like...actually capable of conceiving a child lmao.

-There was really no like initial shock, it was more like overwhelming joy? There was honestly no need to reveal it to the rest of the crew since the second you told him he shouted it loud ad fucing possible.

-"Luffy, uhhh I think im pregnant." You huff, hand over your forehead as you try to figure out the next course of action.

"YOURE PREGNANT?! THATS GREAT!"

"Y/N IS WHAT?" Nami gasps, eyes flitting form you to Luffy, then to your belly.

"YOU’RE PREGNANT?! HOW?" Usopp questions, only to have Sanji interrupt,

"Well Usopp, when two people love eachother- or well... lets talk about he birds and the bee-"

"I KNOW HOW THAT WORKS DICKHEAD-"

-Luffy is a.....he's a great dad, just a little uhhhh...wild?

-You have to explain tho him that this baby cannot fucking eat solid food.

-He's learning and that’s all that matters. He knows when to get serious about his kid and when its okay to be a lil silly.

-Oh and be prepared for when your kid hits about 6-7 cause they're so much like their father its crazy-

Zoro

-He's thuroughly convinced its your fault because he knows for a fact he has impeccable pull out.

-"That’s not mine." He hums, pointing at the newborn with a raise brow.

The fucking liar this baby is his spitting image. Like your genes didn't evens stand a chance. The baby even fucking mean mugs like he does, that lil stoic face.

-"This isn’t yours?" You question, holding the baby up side by side with his obvious father.

"Nope"

-Once he’s like fully processed and accepted the fact that your pussy just so happened to weaken his pull out game, he will claim the child and make sure he's being helpful with both you and the infant.

-It was actually pretty fucking hilarious to see the baby try and latch to his nipple cause his tits are fucking massive. Heeee didn’t think it was that funny tho💀

-Just let the kid grow up a little bit and they’re all about their father, and even though he may not show it all the time, he adores his baby. And they will always be a baby in his eyes. And he things you’re a phenomenal mother even though it was sort of a surprise.

Nami

-You had come aboaded with a toddler. And sure enough they latched to Nami in a heartbeat.

-“AHT! No, you stay with me and let them work.” You reprimand, giving a quick apology to the tangarine haired girl.

“Oh no they’re okay. Hey, you wanna see something cool?” He hum, taking the 2 year old by the hand before you can protest.

-Auntie Nami accidentally turned to ‘mamami’ (Mama Nami) andddd it just stuck.

-one night the three of you had fall asleep in Nami’squarter and she had woke up and just, admires you both. She couldn’t help the way her chest squeezed when she thought about raising this child with you or how much she loved being a part of your lives.

Your eyes flutter open and you give her a knowing look, her face already tinted pink.

“Nami,” you begin, your free hand pushing hair behind her ear as she hold your wrist, placing a kiss there.

“Thank you, love you.” You hum, letting yourself fall back asleep.

-yeah she’s stuck with you two for life

-unironically calls you her baby mama

Usopp

-is literally the best fuckinf dad. Literally ever.

-he wants to make sure he’s an active part of your child’s life, being sure to keep you both in good health and high spirits.

-when you broke the news he was terrified. How good of a father could he be? He just don’t want to let you down.

-“W-What if our kid hates me?” He voices one night, hands holding your tummy.

“I doubt that’ll happen. You’ll be okay Uso.”

-Guess having impeccable aim runs in the family because by time your child is year they’re already throwing projectiles with phenomenal accuracy.

-you can’t tell me he doesn’t make most of your babies toys.

-he loves seeing you just have little moments with your baby, he definetly cried when they took their first steps.

-keeps a picture of the three of you tucked away

-hints at wanting another one from time to time

Sanji

-fainted when you told him.

-honestly he’s a little shocked. He didn’t really put ‘father’ on his goal list but here yall are lol

-he’s very supported and knows that morning sickness is a bitchhhh

-“how’re my girls…or boy” he greets, pressing a kiss to your tummy then to your lips.

-much to his surprise, he was right on both parts because you’re having twins! Yayyyyy

-you cuss him out when your in labor.

-“SANJI YOU ASSHOLE! YOU DID THIS TO ME! WHY DID I FALL FOR YOUR DELICIOUS FOOD YOU FUCK!”

-he’s not allowed in the delivery room lmao he fainted again when the nurse asked if he’d like to see what was goin on

-after 6 horrendous hours, your baby boy and girl are finally born and he’s too delighted.

-“good job baby.” He praises, peppering your tired face with kisses.

-when the kids are older he’s always falling victim to their puppy eyes and begging when they ask for dessert before dinner

-“please dad! We won’t tell mom! Pleaseeee!”

-he loves being with you and loves that he’s been blasted with a wonderful wife and two beautiful children

Shanks

-oh the minute he found out he was stunned! He was sure he already had an illegitimate baby somewhere but for one of the baby mamas to actually let him know was, a bit of a surprised?

-and that’s it. He doesn’t really go out of his way to go visit and see if it’s true. He goes on about his business truely.

-one day, he comes across a lady at a bar, her bright red hair thrown up and she waits tables, her gaze almost immediately locking on his as she frowns

-….what the fuck she looks just like him.

-she goes to a couple other of the waiters/waitresses and the minute they catch his gaze they’re nodding profusely at her.

-it took, shit you not. 3 hours for them to get a table and that was only because her boss came in and MADE her seat the crew.

-“what do you want.” She huffs, her notepad clenched so tight it crumples the paper.

Shanks only further studies the girl, her rage ever present as she slams the notepad down.

“I SAID, What. Do. You. Want. Quickly, or I’m leaving you here to wait 3 more hours. Spit it the fuck out you old bastard.” She spits, leaving him somewhat shocked.

-“How about the-“

-“we’re all out. Deadbeat.” She finishes, dropping her apron and notepad, then walking out.

Safe to say that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

-when he finds where you guys live and YOU answer the door thank god, he firstly apologizes (which you don’t accept right away) and explains how he already met your daughter.

Speak of the devil she had just rounded the corner asking who it was.

“Don’t let this fucker the house mom, please.” She begs, gaze flittering form you to her sperm donor.

-yeahhhhhh this is why he hardly ever makes the effort to see his unsuspecting kids. Doesn’t quite pan out how he thinks.

Mihawk

- you’re not the only one at all. He’s got plenty fucking kids running around and you’re fully aware of that, having run into more than one child that looks just mf like him.

-he won’t deny any of them, but he doesn’t feel like he owes them anything either? It’s weird and you usually feel bad that he picked you and your child when he could very well have done that for the rest of them.

-he often assures you that we’re were one night stand situations he hardly remembers after being so damn drunk.

-he’s a good dad though and a great husband. He makes sure you’re taken care of even is he’s gone a lot of the time. When you told him you were having a baby he didn’t leave from your side.

-when the baby is born he’s a bit suprised they don’t look like him but as soon as they open their eyes he’s so mf smug. Those eyes are a dead giveaways that’s his baby.

-don’t let that baby ask for something be used Mihawk will without a doubt give it to them no matter what.

-“Honey I-“

-there standing in front of the fridge, in laminated with its light are your husband and child. Their eyes wide like an owls, staring directly into your soul.

-“We wanted ice cream.”

Buggy

-he loves his babies. Hands down loves his fucking babies. Plural because of course you were blessed/cursed with triplets.

-two boys, one sweet girl, and not one of them look like their daddy, besides that faint tint of blue in their hair.

-and he’s maddddd, well. not at you but at his genes.

-“honey wait, they might just grow into it?” You encourage, trying not to laugh as he tried to figure out why his kids don’t look like him.

-thank god you were right because by time they were all 4/5 that blue had brightened and the little red glow of their noses were ever present.

-he’s so attentive with you, taking care of the three of them when you need rest or just in general cause how gorgeous wife needs rest after making three gorgeous babies

-freaks his babies out when he takes his head off

-then they won’t leave him the fuck alone about it and will often take pieces of him while he chases them around for them back.

-his babies get their own spot on the show and it fucking adorable watching toddlers dance to circus music with face paint they insisted they do themselves

-best dad buggy 100%

[umbrella-show]

https://www.tumblr.com/umbrella-show/764815509077311488/self-aware-crk?source=share

Hey if you take requests/ideas I wanna drop one off...a prequel of like y/n entering the cookie world and panicking that they are in said world aaaand how cookies take them I'm and how they got y/n to move em into castle instead of just letting them live in a house and so on...you get the idea lol!

(BTW I saw the tag of yandere and I'm curious when we will see the yandere parts...excited lmao!

Umm so this is really long and i don't think I have it in me to create a whole fic based off this so I put it in headcannon format.

Prequel

The Legend of the baker was a very well known story across Earthbread which entailed the story of a being more powerful than the Witches. A being that watched over Earthbread and kept it safe of harm and darkness.

The story was told to cookies, both young and old, and was meant to give hope to terrible situations. After all, the Baker will always protect Earthbred and its inhabitants.

Some believed the story, others didn’t. But it was still one of the most popular stories on EarthBread.

You don’t remember how you became stuck in this world. You just remember waking up in the middle of the forest that just so happened to be right outside of the Cookie Kingdom. You faintly remember stumbling across the large Kingdom, watching in shock and confusion as cookies, only a little shorter than you, roamed the kingdom.

You had soon been spotted by one of the cookies who fearfully ran and alerted other cookies of your existence. You remembered being surrounded, some cookies looking at you in curiosity, others in fear. It wasn’t until one of them yelled out you looked familiar to someone named ‘The Baker.’

And then, all of the cookies switched from skeptical to happy as they approached you and bombarded you with questions. They didn’t look scared anymore, instead becoming excited.

GingerBrave and his friends pulled you out of the crowd and to some place private, away from the crowd. 

They asked if you were the Baker. You told them you had no clue who that was.

Yet, they still called the baker, Wizard cookie claiming the resemblance was too close for you to not be the Baker.

You didn’t understand why they didn’t believe you.

They told you about Earthbred and did their best to calm you down. They looked visibly ecstatic from just being with you. You asked them if there was a way to leave this world. If there was a way for you to go home.

Home…Where was home again? You had paused when you realized you couldn't remember where home even was. In fact, you couldn't remember too much of your life before arriving here. Only general information about your family and friends. And even that was faint.

In your confused state, they had somehow convinced you to agree to stay in the kingdom for a while.

They gave you a tour of the kingdom and overall welcomed you into their world. You couldn’t help but feel better from their kindness. You didn’t realize it was getting dark until you could see the sun begin to slowly hide behind the trees. You had thanked Gingerbrave and his friends for the tour and offered to sleep in one of the free cookie houses for the night. To your surprise, however, they refused to let you sleep there.

“Oh no no no. You deserve much better, Baker!” Wizard cookie had proclaimed.

“Yeah! How about you stay in the Cookie Castle?” Gingerbrave said, already beginning to lead you to said castle.

Despite the amount of times you said it was fine, they insisted, and you couldn’t help but give in as they led you through the doors.

A few days after your arrival were spent in the Cookie Castle, being visited by GingerBrave and his friends and learning more and more about Earthbred from them.

And then one day, GingerBrave told you something that had changed your life.

“You know, all of the other cookies in the kingdom said they want you to rule over the Kingdom.”

You had spat out your drink in shock.

Rule the kingdom?! You couldn’t possibly do that! You just got here!

Everyone else, however, seemed to agree with the inhabitants of the kingdom.

“I-I think you’d do a really good job..” Strawberry cookie mumbled, making everyone nod their heads in agreement.

A crowning ceremony was arranged, and you were too overwhelmed to say no. How could you when everyone was pushing and begging you to take the throne.

And so, somewhat nonconsensually, you were officially declared ruler of the cookie kingdom.

All of the cookies cheered when the crown was placed on your head while you silently struggled under the weight.

After your crowning ceremony, a cookie named Pure Vanilla cookie heard news of your arrival and decided to pay a visit. When he saw how inexperienced you were when it came to ruling, he stepped up to teach you. He stayed with you, becoming an advisor and handling the more complicated duties that weighed on you while he taught you how to handle the easier ones.

He taught you polite manners and was generally very polite himself. He liked to take your hand while walking with you, and when you needed a break, he took you to the garden to admire the flowers and talk.

You slowly began to feel some of the weight lift from your shoulders from his help.

Yet, you still felt so out of place in this world. You thought’ you didn’t fit in. You thought you didn’t belong here. You couldn’t relate to anyone here.

This felt wrong. This felt so wrong. You couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable being in this castle. Sitting in this chair. You just stared down at your food, not bothering to pick up the utensils. You were lost in thought, but the voice of Pure Vanilla cookie forcibly took you out.

“Is the food not to your liking, Baker?”

You only shook your head, not making eye contact with him as you slowly picked up the fork and knife. You cut the jelly meat on your pate into smaller pieces so it was easier to eat.

“I’m fine.”

You softly responded, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin.

“Just thinking.”

Those thoughts lasted for a while, but slowly began disappearing into the back of your mind as you met the other Ancient cookies (minus White Lily cookie. Pure Vanilla never told you where she was). You were extremely nervous at first when Pure Vanilla brought it up.

“Do not worry. My friends are as curious as I about you.” He gently reassured you, taking your hand in his and squeezing.

You went to their kingdoms and met them personally. They were your first trips you took out of the kingdom. GingerBrave and his friends went with you while Pure Vanilla cookie handled kingdom affairs in your absence.

You found the Ancients to be quite interesting and unique in their own ways.

Your personal favorite was HollyBerry, though you’d never say it outloud to anyone. She was so welcoming and friendly and you couldn’t help but admire her strength and passion about helping and protecting her people. She could be a bit touchy and clingy at times, but you normally looked past it. She also gave the best hugs.

Golden Cheese Cookie was next. She gave you a tour of her kingdom, showing off her wealth and treasure to you, leaving you gawking at the amount. She seemed to be amused by your shock, taking that opportunity to blow your mind with the sheer amount of gold she owned. There were a few hints of possessiveness and jealousy that subtly slipped through her shiny and radiant exterior, but overall she was nice.

Finally, you met Dark Cacao cookie. You had to admit, you were a bit intimidated by him. You spent your time walking with him through his castle, idly chatting. He had a cold and serious exterior that put you on guard, but there were moments you could relax during your conversation with him. He’s gone through a lot, you’ve learned, having his trust broken more than once. You thought he didn’t entirely trust you, which you couldn’t blame him for. As quiet and serious as he was, you could appreciate how quiet he was compared to HollyBerry and Golden Cheese, who were more talkative.

You began to feel better with the new company you now had from the Ancients. You liked exploring Earthbread, you realized. The kingdoms you visited were so different from each other. It made you want to learn more about them.

Maybe.. Maybe there was more out there, somewhere on Earthbread, for you to explore.

When you brought this idea up with Pure Vanilla, he immediately shot it down. He said it was too dangerous. He said you didn’t know enough about Earthbread yet to even think about it. You tried your luck with the other Ancients and was met with disapproval.

Hell, you even asked Gingerbrave and his friends if you could go with them for at least one adventure, and they said no too.

You were upset at this rejection. You’ve been in this world for a while. You know enough about it, you believed.

That’s when you began to get desperate for something. Desperate for an exciting adventure. Desperate to explore. Desperate to escape these castle walls.

Yanderes

So literally almost all the cookies, both in and outside the cookie kingdom, practically worship the Baker. They try to give them offerings, free stuff, and overall treat them like a divine being. As nice as the offerings were, you were quick to protest, telling them to treat you like a friend instead of a god, because that wasn’t what you were.

Most of the Yandere behavior is seen by the Ancients when they see their baker begin to seem lower and sadder than usual because of their confinement to their kingdom.

They do their best to cheer you up in their own ways, while also becoming more protective.

Pure Vanilla doesn't really seem to change at all, but if you look closely, he has. You were always dependent on him. He was there almost since day one of your arrival, and has done nothing but help you. You don’t realize how dependent you’ve become to him, how you don’t know what to do without his guidance. He knows this well and subtly uses it to his advantage in keeping you here.

HollyBerry becomes even touchier, constantly having her arm around yours or on your shoulder. It’s her way of telling people to back off. Can’t they see your feeling sad and need her comfort at the moment? 

Golden Cheese cookie wants nothing to come in between your hang outs and gets irritated when someone does. She likes to gift you little shiny and golden accessories like bracelets or necklaces. It’s her way of signaling to everyone you’re someone she cares about.

Dark Cacao was also on who kept change in behavior discreet. Or maybe he didn’t. The only thing he really showed was a willingness to get closer to you and trust you more. You assumed his protectiveness and somewhat sternness was a result of that.

You didn’t realize how protective they all were until you began to yearn for more adventure. And by that time, it was too late. They would never let you go.

[just-jordie-things]

spidermanmegumi x reader kissessssss plsssss

HEARD !! ___

megumi often comes to visit you when he's done with his patrol. and you're always quick to meet him at your window. he barely gets out a "hey, sweetheart" before you're lifting up the edge of his mask and kissing him square on the mouth. it's practically an attack, the way you fly over to him. he teased you about it when you first started greeting him this way... but eventually he realized there's no other way he'd like to be greeted so he started keeping his comments to himself.

(old habits die hard, he can't help but tease you for every thing you do)

what he finds most interesting about it though? the way you never take his mask all the way off when you kiss him. you bunch it up in your hands, shove it just over his nose, but never further. at first he thought you were in too much of a rush to kiss him that you didn't bother with it. but after enough times... he was certain it had to be purposeful.

so now his question was just: why? was it a mask thing? did you have a mask thing? it might make him a little smug at first, but he couldn't be too surprised. you did admit to crushing on spiderman before you actually knew him. maybe that crush never really went away?

he doesn't want to mess up a good thing- he quite likes to be greeted by your insatiable need to kiss him hello- but his mouth gets in the way. (lol)

"sweetheart," he'll probably regret gently pushing back your shoulders until your lips detach from his. you already have a little disappointed knot between your brows when your eyes open. "you ever think maybe i could take the mask all the way off first?"

the disappointment doesn't linger, as it's quickly replaced by your brightened features.

"how come?" you ask, and he should've picked up on the playfulness in your tone, but it's hard to focus on anything when you're looking at him the way that you are.

"well... i'd like to get a decent look at you" he says, and he thinks he's so smooth too, smirking just a little bit at his own words.

you giggle. his smirk doesn't last long.

"you can't see through your 'lil eye thingies?" you ask, squinting at the design of his mask as though you were able to see through the finely crafted mesh.

"of course i can see through the- that's not the point," megumi huffs, realizing a bit too late that you were in one of your playful moods. he wanted a real answer, he couldn't get wrapped up in the banter. "sweetheart... do you have... a thing... for the mask?"

you blink, eyes wide and lips parted in your surprise at his ask. megumi's sure that he's figured you out, that's what it was all this time. it wasn't carelessness, it was a kink!

and then you're laughing again, and megumi thinks he's never won a conversation with you. (this is another realization that's come to him too late. perhaps by a few years)

"you been wonderin' that for a while?" you ask, draping your arms over his shoulders and linking your hands together before he could try to escape you. "you think i have a mask kink?" you can't help but laugh a little bit more when you say it. but the part of his face you can see, you can see that he's beginning to blush, and you decide to put him out of his misery. "gumi, i like to kiss you like this because it makes me feel a little nostalgic, s'all" you admit.

"nostalgic?" megumi repeats, confused.

"yeah," you shrug your shoulders with a sweet smile. "reminds me of our first kiss," you say, before adding, "well, kisses"

megumi's certain you're the only person in the world who could get him to soften the way you do.

he feels a little ridiculous now. of course it was rooted in something more genuine than some little kink. it was sweet, really, that you think about your first kiss with him whenever you kiss him with the mask on. maybe he should make an effort to wear it more often, just to steal a few extra kisses throughout the day.

you purse your lips thoughtfully as you regard him, before adding on to your previous explanation.

"but now that i'm thinking about it, it is pretty hot, too"

yeah, he'll wear it more.

[satorusluver]

Virgin!Choso x fem!reader

Minors DNI

Word count: 650 ish

Tags/warnings: she/her pronouns, hand job, blow job for like two seconds, premature ejaculation lol

Choso, who is 150+ years old but has never been intimate with anyone, so he's shy and nervous and so so sensitive when you two first start doing things. He audibly gasps when you first palm him through his robes, and at first you think maybe you've done something wrong. But when you ask him if he's okay he gives an eager nod, his dark eyes already glazing over with pleasure and you've barely even touched him. And when you ask him if he'd like to go further, he chokes out a desperate "please, my love" in that deep voice of his.

Choso, who lets out a soft whimper when you finally free his cock from its confines and an even louder one when you wrap your hand around it. His dick is hot and heavy in your hand, already twitching and throbbing and aching to be touched. It's even prettier than you imagined it would be, too -perfectly straight, long and pale with a girth a little thicker than average, and a dark pink mushroom head that's already weeping precum from how excited he is.

Choso, who's never been touched by anyone else in that way, who's surprisingly vocal for someone who's usually so quiet as you slowly pump him up and down, taking your time trying to figure out how he likes it. Except he likes anything you do, every touch is heaven to him. It's unlike anything he could have imagined to feel your soft hand on him, and when your thumb rubs along his leaking slit, he involuntarily bucks his hips up into your hand with a low "oh, fuuuck." Your slow but firm touch feels so good that after only a few minutes he's already beginning to feel that pleasurable pressure building in the pit of his stomach, feeling his abs tense slightly each time you stroke your hand up his length.

Choso, whose pale face is so red and flustered at the sight of his pretty girlfriend lowering her face down to his achingly hard cock. He can't help but note the size of it compared to your face, but all coherent thoughts fly out the window the moment your hand curls around his base and your tongue comes out. His breath hitches in his throat when you slowly, teasingly lick your way up his length, never once breaking eye contact. It's the hottest thing Choso has ever seen, you're the hottest thing Choso has ever seen, and before he can stop himself, he's blowing his load then and there like the pathetic virgin he is. He opens his mouth to warn you, but all that comes out is a strangled moan before his cock twitches violently and a thick load of cum spurts out messily, covering your face in the thick, white substance.

Choso barely has time to enjoy the sweet sensation before he's panting out an apology, his whole body still tingling with the aftermath of his orgasm. "I'm sorry, shit, I'm so sorry. I couldn't help it, you were so good and you know I-" he babbles on, his face only turning redder with every word. Choso is petrified, terrified you'll be angry with him, disgusted with him, that you'll think he's as pathetic as he feels right now. So it's much to his surprise when you let out an amused giggle instead of a repulsed groan. And even more so when you wipe a streak of his cum off your face with two of your fingers before bringing those fingers to your lips and sucking them clean with an all too pleased smirk.

"It's okay, baby," you reassure him gently, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." You lean down once more to place a brief kiss to his still half-hard cock with a little wink. "I'll clean myself up and then maybe we can try again in a little while, yeah?"

[o-sachi]

Dress to Impress Headcanons Pt. 1 - for WinBre Week!

ᯓ what's it like to play the roblox game dress to impress with the Wind Breaker characters? ᯓ characters; sakura haruka, suo hayato, nirei akihiko, sugishita kyotaro, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma (more characs in the next part hopefully) ᯓ tags; crack, some profanity lol, gn reader, no y/n, can be platonic/romantic

[🐟]: for day 8 - side missions prompt! (because dti is a side mission) @windbreakerweek

Sakura Haruka

"How the fuck do I win..."

It will take forever to convince him to play because apparently 'there is no way he's playing dress-up that's made for children' but will fold as soon as you tell him he's just saying that because he hates you.

He keeps forgetting where certain items are and keeps going in circles around the place. That's why he thinks 5 minutes isn't enough.

"Where the fuck are the heels with the pretty pink bows? Man." / "You're going in circles, y'know?" / "Not my fault this shit's a maze."

Pretty standard outfits. Like they're not terrible, but they're not impressive enough to get 4 or 5 stars.

He's more of a simplicity-is-beauty type of guy so that also reflects in the kind of outfits that he makes. But the kids in the server are not having it.

"What does 'ate and served' mean?"

SO SALTY WHEN HE LOSES. But he'll brush it off and pretend that he's cool about it because he is not about to let anyone know he cares about some stupid dress-up game.

Suo Hayato

"Oh, look. I got first place again~"

He was easier to convince. But only if you knew how good he'd be, you wouldn't have asked him to play with you. Why? 'Cuz your morale is plummeting by the second.

He doesn't even need to try. Suo just lets his natural sense of style bleed into the way he plays the game AND HE WINS. He's pretty and so are his outfits.

Suo knows that it's mostly kids playing the game. So when he figures out there are younger people on the server, he'll rate them pretty high to put a smile on their face. (HE'S SO SWEET).

"Suo... it didn't even follow the theme." / "But it's quite nice, don't you think?"

You notice that you rank faster when you duo with him. You've been exploiting this little feature.

"We make a pretty good team, don't we?" / "Huh? Oh, yeah. Haha totally..."

Nirei Akihiko

"OH, this one's good... No, but this one's really good too..."

Nirei is everyone's hypeman: yours, the fashion mavens', the ten year olds who can't follow the theme—literally everyone.

He actually gets better so quickly by observing the outfits of those who win a lot. Like dude is analyzing a whole ass Roblox game. Not that it's intentional—more like it's in his nature.

He falls deep into the DTI rabbit hole. You know because he eagerly waits for updates and hunts for codes on the internet.

"Heyyyy, guess who learned a new code hm?"

His face lights up when you ask him to play... as if he doesn't ask you to play every chance he gets already...

DTI actually becomes his door leading to his descent into the world of Roblox. Seriously, he starts playing more Roblox because you started him with DTI. He also starts asking the other Furin guys to play too.

"Guys, let's do an obby next." / "A what?" / "An obby." / "Again, A WHAT?"

Sugishita Kyotaro

"... I swear I can do better than this..."

This man... this man was even harder to convince compared to Sakura. In fact, you almost gave up. Soooo... you convinced Ume instead (which was easier) and in turn, that forced Sugishita to try it out.

Didn't even ask how it works. He's just reading the text that pops up and goes with the flow.

I'm sorry but... he has the blandest style out of everyone in the main Furin group. Like, he doesn't even try to win AT ALL. But, y'know, A for effort!

"Oh... I have to vote for them?" / "Well, yeah... actually no, just give me 5 stars, okay?"

He plays DTI for a grand total of 3 times, all of which were because Ume asked him to play with the rest of the guys.

He's not much of a gamer to begin with... really, he'd much rather watch you play DTI and see your dramatic reactions to whatever's happening.

Umemiya Hajime

"HAHAHA What's with these silly poses?"

It's like a switch flips in him when he boots up the game and the DTI background song starts playing. He looks waaaaay too happy playing it.

He only started playing because all the hype surrounding it. Ume just wants to be part of the conversation and that's why he tried it out.

Talks way too much in the chat. Usually people just use it to provide more context for their outfits, but Ume actually makes conversation with players there. It's pretty funny to see.

"Look. So many people added me." / "Huh... well ain't that a surprise..."

He almost threw the Ipad out of excitement when he saw that the theme was gardening. He said he had to win or he'd literally die.

A pose 28 spammer, obviously.

"Aw, my game started lagging." / "It's 'cuz you keep spamming poses too fast." / "Dang it."

Hiragi Toma

"I'm not that good at it... okay, maybe just a bit."

He's an old man so bear with him when he tells you that he doesn't even know what a 'Roblox' is. He thought it was a vape flavor by the way.

"So... I have to dress-up and make people vote highly for me?" / "Yeah, it's called Dress to Impress for a reason." / "Oh, yeah. Fair."

He barely tries, but somehow he's kinda good at it? He's not insanely amazing at putting together outfits... but for a guy who's not trying that hard—he's doing pretty well for himself.

But he'll be too embarrassed to admit it. Hiragi would click his tongue and tell you to knock it off once you start complimenting his DTI skills.

He's a bit lost with the Gen Z/Gen Alpha terms, but he's trying to learn—slowly but surely like a little baby lamb learning how to walk.

Will rate you 5 stars no matter what. Everyone else is getting 1 star. Hiragi doesn't care.

"I didn't know you could hit poses here?" / "Yeah, look at this one." / "What the fuck kinda pose is that? Who's doing that on the runway? Bffr." / "Did you just—" / "Told you I'm learning things."

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.