#lets go 2 years of french yeah

[chemsaway]

La vie en vert

est très belle avec toi...

[devotedlystrangewizard]

if theres one teacher i have to remember from my high school years it would have to be the technology guy. he looked like a mad scientist at all times. one time before i joined his class he sat next to me on a bench and talked to me for a bit. the first day of his class in the 3rd year he basically told us if he caught us using the cloud instead of usb sticks he would kick us out. phones were forbidden. when i told him i didnt like being put in the girls group (there were only 4 girls (including me not knowing i was trans yet)) he put me in a group with some of the boys instead no questions asked. he was probably the strictest of all the teachers ive had while also one of the nicest. he scared me a little. i miss him

[singmyaubade]

No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.

"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."

She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."

You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."

You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.

"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."

Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.

You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.

And then you got a letter from him saying,

Dear Y/n,

Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?

Sincerely,

Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.

You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.

Bullshit.

"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."

"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"

You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.

She shook her head, "Be safe!"

You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.

You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.

When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.

Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.

But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.

But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.

You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.

Compartment 222.

It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.

You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"

They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.

"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.

You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"

You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.

Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"

"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.

"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.

"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."

You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.

"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.

Your mouth agape, "Lily."

"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."

"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.

"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.

"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."

The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.

You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.

"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.

"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"

"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.

You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.

"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.

"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."

"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.

"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.

"Give him hell."

"So do it." She said.

They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.

And you had to start not caring about him.

"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.

Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.

Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.

Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.

You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.

You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.

He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.

"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.

"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.

"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.

"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.

"He insisted," Remus shrugged.

"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.

"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.

Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.

"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.

"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.

"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.

Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"

"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.

"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.

Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"

Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"

Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.

"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.

"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.

"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.

You could already tell it was going to be a long year.

After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.

You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.

"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.

"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.

"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.

You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.

"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.

When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.

"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.

You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.

"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.

You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.

"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.

"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."

You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.

"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.

You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."

He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."

Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.

"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"

He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.

For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.

His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.

Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.

You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.

You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.

Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.

What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?

It was stupid and pathetic.

You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.

So you did.

You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.

You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.

You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.

You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.

You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.

You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.

The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.

They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.

You never considered yourself a liar.

The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.

You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.

You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.

You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.

"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."

You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.

"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.

"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.

He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"

"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.

"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.

You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.

"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.

"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.

"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.

"Meadows on a date with me."

You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."

"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.

"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.

"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"

"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.

"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.

Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.

You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.

You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.

"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.

"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.

You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.

"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."

"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.

Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.

Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.

Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.

This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.

"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.

Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.

You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.

James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.

"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.

He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.

"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.

"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.

You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"

He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.

"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.

"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.

He didn't stop.

"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."

"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.

His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.

Did you really win?

A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.

taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26

[cmncisspnandmore]

All Hands on Deck- Part 2

Pairings: Poly!141 X Wife!Reader.

Warnings: Smut, this whole things is filth, some angst and fluff thrown in.

A/N: I had no intentions of this Poly141 one shot i wrote turning into a series, but i couldnt get their family out of my head so i started writing and now look at us. 9k words into a part 2. Ooopssss. This is also not beta read, all mistakes are mine.

Word Count: 9713

Part 1

“It’s really not that complicated, Johnny,” Simon sighs, resting his head in his hands, his fingers pushing through the unkempt blonde locks.

“Sod Off,” the scotsman huffs as he grabs the three strands of hair on Kira's head again. You watch over the top of your mug. Two of your husbands are sitting on the couch, your oldest twin Kira sitting on the floor between her Da’s legs. One of your middle children, Isla sat between Simons. Johnny had been trying to learn to braid her hair, something you or Simon did most days.

“Left, over middle, right, over middle, and just repeat,” Simon coaches him, showing him once again on Islas long brown hair. 

“Yeah yeah,” Soap grumbles as he tries again, earning a yelp from Kira.

“Ouch! You pulled my hair!” her hands on top of her head as she turns to glare up at her father. 

“Sorry hen, didn't mean ta,” Soap apologizes leaning down to kiss her forehead. Simon finishes the braids in Islas hair, the 6 year old leaning back against his shins. 

“Daddy i’m bored, can i go play with Theo and Joseph now?” She whines, batting her lashes at him. Simon gives her a small nod, and her smile grows. “Thank you Daddy, good luck Da!” she calls as she scrambles to her feet and flees from the room.

“Isla lets play cops and robbers!” Joseph yells as he meets her in the hallway, he peeks into the room giving you and the others a small wave before he bounds off after his sister.

You take a small sip of your caffeinated beverage, the warm liquid warming your stomach as you drink. John had made you a cup and promptly deposited it into your hands as you walked down the stairs this morning,you were still in your sleep clothes. He had murmured about having to go finish some papers in the office on the 3rd floor before he disappeared. 

“Aye! Look at that!” Johnny exclaims as he ties the hair band around the end of the horribly loose and uneven braid going down Kira’s back. Kira’s hands go to the braid, small fingers running over it, she looks over at Simon, a frown on her face. 

“Well you tried,” Simon laughs, before motioning for Kira to sit in front of him. His large hands carefully pulled the hair band from her hair. He runs his fingers through it and quickly re braids it into a neat french braid. 

“You make it look so easy,” Johnny sighs, looking over at you, “both you and Si can work some witchcraft on their hair that I just can't get the hang of.” 

“It’s alright love,” You smile as you walk over, sitting on the couch next to him. Satisfied with her braid Kira slips from the room, off to join her siblings in their games.

“I just want ta help,” Johnny mumbles, his arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you into his side. 

“I know, but hair is not your thing, and that's okay, you help in many other ways,” you press your lips to his cheek, earning a small smile from him. “It took Simon a while to learn too.”

“Really?” Johnny murmurs his lip brushing across your cheek.

“Oh yeah, after we found out about the twins, and that we were having a girl, I think he spent every night until they were born practicing on my hair. Don't let him tell you he’s just good at it, there were lots of terrible braids and my hair being pulled,” you narrow your eyes at Simon and he gives you a small smirk.

Simon had spent almost every night braiding your hair, or well, trying to braid your hair. The first few weeks he mainly just yanked your hair out while you tried to explain the process to him. Once he made such a huge knot in your hair you were afraid you were going to have to cut it out. Kyle had found you sitting on the bathroom counter, sobbing because you couldn't get the snarls out. Thankfully after an hour of you and Kyle working on the knots you were able to get it out. 

Simon had felt terrible about it, and didn't touch your hair for a week after that. It took you begging him to try again for the man to even brush your hair for you. Eventually he got good at the basic braid and you taught him how to do a french braid and a few other hairstyles. 

“Does that mean i can practice on ye?” Johnny's big blue eyes flutter at you, earning a harsh roll of your own.

“Maybe, if you're good.”

Simon stands from the couch, stretching his large body, black tee shirt pulling taught against his chest. “I’m gonna go shower, Lovie, do you need anything?” He looks down at you in Johnny arms, your head resting on his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” you flash him one of your signature smiles, his own lips curling up slightly at the edges. Simon leans down, his large hands cupping your face as he presses a long slow kiss to your lips. Love, adoration and happiness poured into the kiss, he nips your bottom lip gently as he pulls away. Johnny letting out a low groan at the display.

“Steamin’ Jesus..” the Scotsman groans, his head flopping back against the couch as Simon walks away, your cheeks flushed.

“Such a perv Mactavish,” You laugh, and he lifts his head, narrowing those baby blues at you.

“Can’t help it Mo Chridhe, watching you kiss the others does something to me,” he whispers, large calloused hands gripping your waist as he hauls you into his lap. Your knees settle on either side of his muscular thighs. Your hands resting on his shoulders as he blatantly stares at your breasts. “Shame, Hope’s weaning, I fuckin’ love your tits like this.” 

Air rushes from your lungs, your eyes fluttering shut as Johnny nips at the sensitive skin of your breasts. Your forehead rests on top of his head as his lips tease at the tops of your breasts, “Johnny…” you breathe.

“Miss you hen,” Johnny’s breath tickles your skin as he trails kisses up your chest to your neck. His hands knead the flesh of your waist as he pulls you down against his lap, his cock pressing against you through the fabric of his jeans. 

“The kids…” You breathe, your breath coming out in small pants as his lips sucks on the curve of your neck and shoulder. 

“The others can watch em’ they got their turn with you last night,” He mumbles.

He wasn't wrong, last night Kyle and John ravaged your body like it was lost treasure, the pair of them having cornered you in the kitchen after the kids had gone to bed. Simon was trapped in Theo’s room with the toddler sleeping against his chest, Theo had a cold and had been right miserable all day. Needing to be held by you or one of his dads. Johnny was putting Hope to bed, the now 14 month old going through a sleep regression, needing to be rocked to sleep. You werent exactly quiet as John and Kyle fucked you over the kitchen counter. Taking turns slamming into you, your screams and moans floating up the stairs. You know Simon and Johnny heard you, and it only added to your pleasure. 

A startled squeak leaves your lips and Johnny shifts you, tossing you over his shoulder as he stands from the couch. His hand coming down on your ass with a sharp crack. He carried you through the house, you slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You passed the kids in the playroom, Kyle sitting in a chair in the corner, his eyes lifting from his book as you pass. 

“Da? Why is Mama up there? Was she naughty? Is she going to time out?” Isla wonders, coming to stand in the doorway of the playroom. Her big blue eyes gazing up at you, although your view is mostly upside down you still see Kyle's smug smirk from the chair. 

“Aye Bonnie, She needs a time out,” Soap ruffles her hair with the hand that isn't hooked around your knees. “I’m just bringing her to her room, go play with your siblings. Maybe Dad will bring the lot of you downstairs into the basement for a movie in the theater.”

“Can we watch Encanto?!?! Please Dad!!” Isla yells, bounding over to her Dad. Kyle glares at Johnny, as your children swarm him all calling out different movies they want to watch. Even hope babbles happily at his feet. You give a small wave as Johnny carries you up the stairs towards the master bedroom. 

He flops you down in the middle of the giant bed you had custom made for all of you. You bounce slightly on the light green duvet, a laugh floating through the air. Johnny kicks the door closed, his hands finding the hem of his light blue shirt as he drags it off him. His toned stomach and chest are on display. He stalks towards you, like a lion hunting prey, his blue eyes dark with desire. 

Your cheeks flame, heart pounding against your ribs. Johnny cage's you against the bed, strong arms locking your wrists above your head. His lips brush against yours as he slots his knee in between your thighs. 

“Mmm.. want me all to yourself Johnny?” You whisper, looking at his face through half lidded eyes. 

“For now.. Haven't had you all alone for a while. Not that I mind sharing you with the others… I love watching them work you up, making you moan, bring you to the edge with their fingers, tongue and cocks…” His soft pink lips brush against your skin with each word. A shiver shudders through your body at his words. 

He shifts to hold your wrists with one of his hands, his other coming to squeeze at your breast. He kneads the soft flesh there, a moan dragging from your lips. A small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Steamin’ Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he groans, pressing his face into the side of your neck. Your hips lift to brush against his, earning another small moan your Scottish husband. Johnny kisses up your neck to your mouth, his tongue invading your mouth. Your tongue tangles with his, your breath mingling. Heat sweeps through your body as you grind yourself on Johnny knee between your legs. 

“Need you Johnny…” You whine softly as he slips his hand under your shirt. His cool fingers toying with your nipple. You’ve never been so glad you didn't wear a bra in your life. Your hands are numb from the tight grip he has on your wrists. Body trembling as he kisses you senseless. 

Johnny wasn't always gentle with you in bed, he loved to overstimulate you, pushing you to the edge. He’d love to watch tears roll down your cheeks as you begged him to let you cum. He was probably the worst when it came to edging you, he would go for hours if one of the others didn't step in and save you. He was too impatient for that today, his large hands travel down your body, over the curve of your hips. Fingers slip into the waistband of your sleep short as he harshly tugs them down your legs. 

“So wet for me already, want me to stuff you with my cock? Make you cum all over it?” His voice is raspy as he slides a finger into your slick heat. God those fingers were something else. He always knew exactly where to touch you to make you squirm. 

“Please…” you pant, cheeks flushed, chest heaving.

He curls his fingers inside you before adding 2 more. Your legs tremble as you peek up at him from the mattress. His blue eyes burn into you, white teeth flashing behind his pink lips as he smiles at you. 

“‘M gonna fill you up, put another baby in you just so i can watch your gorgeous tits grow again,” he shifts letting go of your wrists. Your hands tingle and burn as blood rushes back into them. The sound of a belt hitting the floor, the bed dips under his weight as he climbs back over you. His calloused hand grabs the puffy flesh of your thigh, hooking it over his hip.

Johnny moans softly as his hand glides over his thick cock a few times, the tip red and swollen. Precum leaking onto the bed between your thighs. You swore each of your men were hand carved by gods. Your cheeks burn as Johnny looks down at you, your shirt bunched up over your breasts, pupils blown wide.

“Can’t wait anymore Hen, I gotta be inside ya,” Johnny moans, leaning over you once again, his chest brushing yours. The smooth skin of his chest sends tiny jolts of pleasure through you as it drags across your sensitive nipples. You gasp as he slips through your wet folds, a low groan pulled from his lips as he thrusts into you. 

“Fuck, harder,” you moan out, eyes rolling back into your head as he stretches you open. 

You didn't have to tell him twice, he picks up speed, sitting back on his legs as he grips your hips in his large hands. He uses his hands to pull you up his thighs, pounding into you mercilessly. Red hot desire burns in your core, your walls fluttering around his cock. Each thrust brings you closer and closer to your release. He pushes one of your knees to your chest, changing the angle to hit deeper. His right hand leaves your hip so he can use his fingers to circle your swollen clit. 

“You’re like a vice grip on me, dinnae if i can last long Mo Chridhe, you feel too good wrapped around me,” he breathes, his pace brutal.

“Cum for me baby,” You whimper, your own high teetering on the edge. 

His expert fingers circle your clit faster, adding more pressure as he slams his hips into yours. It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re tumbling over the  edge, Johnny groaning his release as falls forward. Shaky arms on either side of your head as his face dips into the curve of your neck.

You both lay there on the bed, Johnny half hard cock still nestled inside you, your chests heaving as you both catch your breath. You trail your hands up his back, fingers sliding into the hair of his mohawk. The damp strands catch on the diamond of your ring.

“You alright?” you laugh slightly, Johnny's entire body weight resting on you. His large form crushing you, but in the best way.

“Think i died and ended up in heaven, must be my guardian angel,” his lips brush against your neck, his stubble tickling you.

“Get off my wife, MacTavish,” Price's voice breaks through your post orgasm haze. The older man stands in the doorway, his back against the white wood door. His arms crossed over his chest, a teasing smile on his lips as he looked over your half naked state and Soaps bare ass.

“Sorry Cap’n, something about this vixen makes me wild,” Soap laughs as he gently pulls out of you, and rolls off you. He flops over on his back, lower stomach glistening with your mess. John rolls his eyes, and leans down plucking a towel from the half full laundry basket by the door and tosses it at Soap. 

“Clean yourself up, Kyle’s stuck in the theater with the kids watching some princess film, and Hope needs a nap.” John walks to the bed, his thighs hitting the edge of the mattress as he wraps a hand around your ankle and yanks you down the bed to him. His light blue eyes trail over your body, his gaze settling on the glistening apex of your thighs. A flare of desire passes over his face before he meets your gaze again. 

“I’ll rescue him, need me some baby cuddles anyways,” Johnny laughs as he pulls on his clothes. He leans over the edge of the bed and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, giving you a wink. “I love you Mo Chridhe,” he smiles, his hand ghosting over your lower stomach as he stands.

You blink a few times, head still fuzzy from your activities with Johnny. The bedroom door closes with a soft click, leaving you alone with John. His rough fingers trail up the smooth skin of your calf to your thigh. Skimming over the curve of your hip and settling on the side of your ribcage. His palm rising and falling with each of your breaths.

“Johnny take care of you Darlin?” He murmurs, thumb brushing over the side of your breast.

“He did, are you here to have your way with me too?” You breathe, teeth sinking into your plush bottom lip as you blink up at him. 

“I wish I could Darling, I want nothing more than to make you scream my name, have my cum dripping out of you. But I have to get to base, Laswell called and said she had something for me to look at, but couldn't discuss it on the phone.” He sighs, his fingers trailing to your hands and he gently pulls you up. 

God he hates the way your brows furrow, a small frown on your beautiful lips. He hates that he has to go, but they’ve been home for almost 5 months now. It was only a matter of time before something like this came up. He wished he could retire, the entire task force. But they were needed. He knew it. The rest of them knew it. You knew it. But it didn't make it any easier, knowing that one day your perfect bubble would pop. That your men would have to rush out the door at some ungodly hour to run headfirst into danger. It seemed to get harder and harder as each kid grew to understand what their dads did. How they might not come back. 

You let out a long breath, and force a smile onto your face. “I understand, can I entice you into a shower with me before you leave?” 

The look on your face was enough to make any man fold, let alone one as hopelessly in love with you as John was. He couldn't resist your big wide eyes blinking up at him, thick long lashes fluttering. He couldn't say no to you, even if he would get his ass chewed out by Laswell for being late.

“Simon better make room,” He chuckles, hands gripping your waist as he hauls you into his arms. Not caring that your bare cunt is leaking cum all over his shirt and jeans. He tosses his boonie hat onto the bed, your legs wrapping around his waist as you press your face into the side of his neck. His beard tickles your skin, as he shoves open the bathroom door. 

Simon glances up in the mirror, a light gray towel slung low on his hips. Board chest and back on full display as he watches his captain carry you into the steam filled bathroom. His brown eyes track you in the mirror until Price sets you down on the cool quartz countertop next to him. 

“Hi Lovie, you look thoroughly fucked, did John do this to you?” Simon muses, his chapped lips brushing your temple.

“No,” you chirp, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Johnny got his hands on me, John’s going to shower with me. Care to take another?” You muse, earning a small chuckle from the tall blonde next to you.

“Wish i could Lovie, but I promised a very persistent 7 year old I would take her and her twin to the library so they can get a new book,” he roughly towel dries his hair with a smaller towel before he hangs it on a hook. 

Yu jut out your lower lip, “okay, fine,” you pout. 

“Don’t pout, your mouth is far too pretty for that. I’d much rather it be wrapped around my dick tonight,” Simon practically purrs in your ear. His teeth nipping your earlobe in promise. Price returns, and shares a look with Simon in the mirror before he stacks a fresh set of clothes for the both of you on the counter. 

“Be a good girl, I love you,” Simon kisses your lips softly before he leaves the bathroom.

“Love you,” You call after him as steam starts to billow out of the large walk-in shower, hot water cascading from the multiple shower heads. John settles between your thighs and grips the hem of your pajama top, pulling it over your head in one swift motion. Your own hands travel to the buckle of his belt as you quickly unlatch it, yanking it from the waist of his jeans and letting it tumble to the floor with a metallic clink.

Your deft fingers quickly undo the button and fly, one hand slipping into the opening to palm his half hard cock through his boxers. Your tongue darts out as you notice the wet spot on the front of his jeans from your and Johnny's mixed releases.  John inhales sharply, large hands wrapping around your wrist.

“Darling,” he warns, his voice low and tight.

“What?” You blink up at him, feigning innocence.

“We have to shower now if you want me to join you, can’t keep Laswell waiting all day..” He warns, but you don't stop. His cock growing under your tender touches. 

“We can shower…”  You purr, leaning forward your lips gently grazing the top of his boxers. John's abs contract as your breath tickles his happy trail, the smattering of dark hair that disappears under his boxers. Your tongue pokes out, licking a small wet line over his boxers, his now hard cock jumping as your warm tongue flicks over the tip through the fabric. 

The growl that leaves John's lips is almost feral as he grabs your hips and yanks you off the bathroom counter. He spins you, your hip bones hitting the edge of the counter, a delicious sting as they bite into the corner. John's gaze meets your in the mirror, his jaw set in a hard line, one hand pressing into the space between your shoulder blades. He forces you to bend over the counter, his gaze never leaving yours. 

“You spoiled brat, you want to be fucked is that it?” He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back. “Want me to fuck you into the bathroom counter like the slut you are?” He tugs sharply on your hair, a gasp forcing itself from you.

“Yes, god, yes,” You moan, nipples hardening as they slide against the cold counter.

“I won't be gentle with you, I have things to do, I'm a busy man,” he warns, but it does nothing but excite you. It wasn't often you pushed John, you usually understood when he said he had things to do. But a part of you craved it when he was rough with you. John was most always gentle with you. As if he was afraid to break you, treating you like something to be savored. It was Simon who you often turned to when you needed someone to throw you around, leaving bruises on your skin. But there was a side to Price only you could draw out, when you knew he was stuck in his head of the things he needed to do. Lost in the responsibility of being Captain to the others, the one who inevitably makes the call for them to leave your home and storm into a warzone.

It didn't take much sometimes, just a little bratty behavior when you knew he was in a hurry. If you had been a good girl like Simon suggested you would have climbed into the shower without protest. Let John wash you tenderly under the stream of the shower and kiss you goodbye as you blow dried your hair. But instead you had pressed him, edging the line of his control by palming him through his boxers. The kitten lick through the thin fabric was the final straw for him. 

Now as he pulled his shirt off, and shoved his jeans and boxers down to the floor you can't help but pant. You never take your eyes off him as he glares at you through the fogging mirror. One hand gripped in your hair, the other wrapped around his throbbing cock. 

“This what you wanted? Getting me all worked up when you know I have to leave?” He asks, giving himself a few harsh strokes. Your eyes trail over his hand, your brain short circuiting as you watch him jerk his cock.

A sharp sting across your ass makes you yelp, johns palm cracking across the silky smooth flesh. “Asked you a question, I expect an answer,” he grinds out.

Y-yes sir,” your words tumble from your dry lips, tongue feeling stuck as he lines himself up with your still wet pussy. He nudges your entrance, and your eyes flutter shut. The tip of his cock slipping between your wet folds.

“Eyes on me,” he demands, and your eyes fly open at the exact moment he slams his hips home. A loud moan falling from your lips as he pounds into you. His hand is still gripping your hair. Your hip bones bite into the rounded edge of the sink. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the bathroom along with the water in the shower. The mirror starts to fog with your breath and the steam from the hot water. The mix of John’s cock driving into you and the humid air of the bathroom makes you dizzy. Your fingers dig into the smooth sink, grasping for purchase. John's cheeks flush as he continues his harsh assault on your body. 

“You take my cock so well, such a good little cum slut,” He rasps. Your eyes roll back into your head as he releases your hair. His hands wrap around the curve of your hips so he can thrust into you harder. You were definitely going to be bruised later. But you didn't care, the sight of John losing himself in you was everything to you. 

His fingers dig into your hip bones, short nails leaving small crescent shapes on the delicate flesh. “You like it don't you? Huh? Like the feel of my cock filling you up, want my cum to drip from your tight cunt like Johnnys, huh Darling? Want us to fuck another baby into you?’ his hand comes down on your already red ass cheek, a biting sting, he doesn't bother to soothe the red skin. His smile grows as his hand print leaves a raised welt, if there was one thing in common between all of your husbands was they loved marking you. 

Whether it was Kyle leaving tiny love bites across your stomach and thighs. Simon's finger prints bruised into your waist. John's handprints on your ass. Or Johnny's teeth marks across the plains of your breasts. They all had their subtle or well not so subtle ways of letting the others know they were there.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” John pants, his thrusts becoming erratic as he gets closer to the edge. “Touch yourself, make yourself cum all over my cock like the good little slut you are.” 

Your eyes watch his face in the mirror as you slide a hand between your thighs and rub fast, tight circles on your clit. Your fingers gliding effortlessly over the swollen nub, the mix of you and Johnny making the perfect lubricant. It only takes you moments to work yourself to the edge, your body practically humming already. 

John shifts his hips slightly, hitting that spot inside you that drives you crazy. You both fall over the edge with a shout. John's hips slamming into yours with one last rough thrust as he stills inside you. His cock twitching, your walls milking him. You collapse forward, gasping breaths wracking your body. 

John reaches forward, brushing the hair from your cheek. His fingers tuck the loose strands behind your ear. “Didn't hurt you, right?”

Your other cheek is pressed firmly against the smooth bathroom counter, the overhead lighting reflecting off the mica embedded in the white quartz. You give a small shake of your head. “No, I knew what I was getting myself into,” You push yourself up on shaky arms as John  slips from between your legs. The mixture of his and Johnny's cum dripping down your thighs. 

A harsh knock on the bathroom door breaks the moment.

“Price? Laswell called again, said she couldn't get ahold of you, asked me to tell you she needs you on base Asap,” Kyle's voice drifts through the bathroom door and you groan, turning to face John.

“Rain check on the shower, Darling?” Price’s fingers grab your chin softly.

“Rain check,” You agree leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his mouth. He pulls away all too soon for your liking, wiping himself off with a towel before pulling on his clothes. Pulling open the shower door you step into the hot stream, your body shaky and numb from the mind blowing orgasms. You tip your head back allowing the hot water to wet your hair, your eyes closed. 

A soft hand slips around your waist, your eyes popping open to see Kyle. His short black hair is dotted with water that bounces off you. A smile forms on your lips as he gently pulls you toward him. The hard expanse of his chest is a welcome home for your head. He doesn't say anything for a few minutes, just holds you under the hot stream. His fingers absentmindedly stroking your soft skin. 

“It sounds to me like you had a very eventful morning,” Kyle teases, his lips brushing your forehead. 

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“You know how Johnny is after he gets his way with you, he's like a kid in a candy store. He’s put Hope down for her nap and then proceeded to offer to bake cookies with Isla and Theo. Knowing full well he was going to have to clean the kitchen after that fiasco.” Kyle laughs, “and you weren't exactly quiet with John a moment ago.” 

Your cheeks grow hot, even after all this time you still couldn't help but feel shy when the other men knew what happened without them. It's not that you were ashamed, it was more to do with your upbringing. Your parents were strict, sex was a taboo subject, you didn't even know the basics until they taught you in health class. Your parents weren't a huge part of your life, they chose to put distance between you and your family when they found out you were dating 4 men.

They showed face at your wedding though, playing the doting parents of the bride. But the cold shoulder your mother gave you when you told her you were expecting her first grandchildren told you everything you needed to know. They weren’t okay with how you chose to live your life, they just cared more about their image.

“Where did you just go?” Kyle asks, his fingers under your chin tipping your face up to his.

“Hmm?” you hum, brows furrowed. 

“You got stuck in your head, where did you go?” His own brows furrow as he studies you. His long fingers brushing a drop of water from your cheek.

“I was just thinking about my parents…” you shrug halfheartedly. You tried not to let them bother you, telling yourself that you were better off without them. That your kids didn't need that in their life, they had 2 sets of wonderful grandparents who loved them more than anything. Johnny and Kyle's parents would find a way to give the kids all the stars in the sky if they could. 

“Baby,” Kyle breathes, his face coming closer to yours. “You don't need them, don't get lost in their ignorance.”

“I know.. Just.. I don't know,” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek hard, the coppery tang of blood distracting you.

“Let me make it better,” he whispers, lips skimming yours. Kyle's kisses were always soft and sweet, just like him. His lips are as smooth as butter, as soft as cotton candy. He always took his time with you. Each movement is carefully thought out to bring you the most pleasure. His hands tangle in your wet hair, but unlike John there's no sharp sting. Just tender touches along your scalp as he slips his tongue into your mouth. 

The low moan that vibrates through your chest is enough to encourage him to continue. Kyle's fingers trail down your neck and spine to the curve of your ass. His fingers knead the soft flesh there, soothing the raised handprints left by Price. His fingers grip your thigh softly as he hikes it up over his hip, allowing his hard cock to brush against you.

“Kyle… please,” You whisper, rolling your hips into him.

“I’ve got you, Baby,” he whispers against your mouth. He turns you slowly, your back hitting the cool tile wall of the shower. He captures your swollen lips in another searing kiss, as one arm lips behind your back, causing you to arch into him. His other hand wraps around his thick cock as he slides into you. You moan into his mouth, your kiss becoming more clashing teeth and harsh breathing than before. Your hand grip his muscular shoulders, your nails biting into the smooth brown skin. You can feel his muscles flex and contract under your fingers as he languidly slides in and out of you. 

“You’re so good to us,” he whispers against your skin, ‘always taking care of us, take such good care of our babies when we're away. You’re ethereal, a true goddess on earth just for us.” 

Kyle's praise brings tears to your eyes, what did you possibly do to deserve him? Or any of them? Kyle drags his hips along yours, and your legs begin to shake. Your body was spent, between Soap and Price, you weren't sure if you had any more in you. But it doesn't stop Gaz, he just picks up his pace slightly. Nothing compared to either of the men before him, but enough that the coil in your stomach is now twisting tighter, and it’ll only be a matter of moments before you shatter in his arms. 

Gaz’z lips trail down your jaw and neck as he sucks along the smooth skin there. Quiet pants being coaxed out of you with each one. His lips seal around your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity skittering across your skin. 

“Fuck, Ky- I cant,” you whine, the burning in your core too much, as he drags his cock out of you before pushing back in at an agonizingly slow pace. His teeth graze your nipple as he pulls away. His mouth peppering your chest with wet open mouth kisses. His saliva mixes with the warm water leaving your chest shiny under the bathroom lights. 

“Yes you can Baby, I know you can. Just one more, for me,” he coaxes, his hand slipping between you, to rub your overly sensitive clit. His fingers tapping with the lightest of touches, and you break. Your walls are clamping down on him. Tears roll down your cheeks as you come with his name on your lips. 

His hips stutter as he follows you over the cliff, his own orgasm ripping through him as he lets your leg fall. Both your feet now firmly on the ground as he presses his forehead to yours. You both pants, the air between you becoming stifling with the humidity from the shower. You wrap your arms around his chest, allowing your head to lay over his rapidly beating heart. Your hair clinging to his skin as he adjusts the shower head above you, allowing more hot water to pour over the both of you. 

You stay like that until you're both able to breathe normally, and Kyle begins to gently wash you. He brushes the plush washcloth that's lathered in vanilla scented body wash over your body. He kneels in front of you, gliding the cloth up your legs to your thighs and ass. He's gentle where prices hands have left a mark. 

He presses small kisses to the bruises that are forming on your hips from the countertop. Before he stands, pouring some strawberry scented shampoo into his hands and working a rich lather into your hair.You both enjoy the quiet, neither one talking much except for when giving instructions to rinse off. 

After you return the favor of washing Gaz, he gets out of the shower, pulling two towels from the warming rack and wrapping one around his waist. The other he secures around yours. He spends the next 30 minutes lathering you with lotions and blow drying your hair. He glances at you through the bathroom mirror as he pushes up the sleeves of his shirt. His white teeth flashing at you as he smiles.

“You alright baby?” 

You nod, pulling on one of Simon's oversized black hoodies. It falls to the tops of your thighs, and you have to roll the cuffs of the sleeves up so you can use your hands. Kyle presses a kiss to your cheek, his warm lips lingering on your cheek for a moment.

“You look tired. Why don't you lay down for a nap?” he suggests, his fingers twirling a piece of your hair. 

You could use a nap, but you have things to do. Anxiety gnaws at you, you know that they’ll be leaving soon. It's not hard to interpret the messages behind Kate wanting to see John on base. That's how it normally went, she would ask him to come to base to discuss something. John would disappear for a few hours, sometimes late into the night before he came home.  He would talk to the others first, usually Simon, then Kyle or Johnny whoever he could find first. Then he would seek you out. He’d pull you into him, his beard tickling your cheeks as he peppered your face with kisses. 

Then he’d lay it on you, tell you that they were shipping out, either in the morning or in the next few days. You always tried to be strong, to put on a brave face especially if the children were still awake. Then you would watch as he told each of the children what was going on. Kira and Joseph would hold their younger siblings as they cried, begging their fathers not to go. Your heart shattering in your chest as you watch the four men in your life try to reassure them that they would be back. Eventually the younger kids would settle, the twins distracting them with games or snacks. 

It wasn't until they had left, and the kids were all in bed that you allowed yourself to fall apart. Huddled alone in your giant bed, surrounded by their pillows that you would let the tears fall. Sometimes one of the kids would climb into bed with you, their own attempts at comforting themselves. The time where your husbands were gone felt like wading through chest high mud. Each action needs twice the amount of effort than normal. You didn't have enough hands it seemed, there was always someone needing something. Someone had practice or a project they needed done. A baby was sick or going through a milestone. A faucet would leak or you’d forget entire meals when grocery shopping. You chew your bottom lip, spinning your engagement ring and wedding band around your ring finger. 

“No i'm okay, I’m gonna go see if Johnny needs any help with Theo and Isla,” you smile softly pressing a quick kiss to Kyle’s cheek before slipping out of the bathroom.

You can hear Johnny talking with Isla and Theo, his accented voice easy to pick out. You pad down the hallway to the kitchen. From the large archway you see Johnny standing behind Isla and Theo who stand on little helper stools. Theos light brown skin is dusted with flour, and his brown curls are pushed out of his face with a pair of bright purple bunny ears. Isla peers over the bowl, her finger dipping into the dough. A glob of cookie dough makes it way into her mouth, a sly smirk on her lips as she thinks Johnny didn’t see her.

But the demolition expert did see it, you can tell by the way his mouth slants upwards, the slight shake of his head. Theo reaches into the bowl, his little fist gripping the chocolate chip cookie dough like it was a life line. But instead of shoving it into his mouth he uses his other hand, attempting to roll the dough into a ball. It squishes through his fingers and lands with a wet plop on the counter. His big brown eyes look up in panic as the sticky dough clings to his hands. 

“Oi lad made a fine mess of yerself don’t ya?” Johnny laughs, scraping the excess dough from Theos outstretched hands. 

“Da, do you think mama will like the cookies?” Isla wonders, using a dough scoop to scoop out portions of cookie dough, she plops them on a baking sheet. A little too close together but Johnny just moves the small mounds over a bit.

“I think she’ll love em, your mama loves everything you make for her,” he ruffled her hair with his clean hands. Coming to stand behind Theo as he helps him scoop out his own dough with another scoop.

“Sometimes when all of you leave, I can hear Mama crying… Papa left to go see aunt Kate.. that means you’ll leave again soon…” Isla looks down at the cookie sheet, her bottom lip between her teeth. You can see her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath.

“It’s okay to be sad when we leave, lala girl. Sometimes Mama’s get sad too,” he crouches down next to her, his finger hooking up her chin as he looks at her.

“Why do you leave if it makes Mama and us sad?” She leans into his hand, her smaller hands coming to rest on his cheeks. Theo jams the cookie scoop into the bowl too young to understand the conversation.

“Well, papa, Daddy, Dad and I have really important jobs. And those jobs sometimes make it so we have to go far away to capture bad people, and stop them from hurtin others. Like how Batman stops the joker, and police officers catch bad guys.”

“Olice Officer! Wee woo wee woo!” Theo yells, the scoop clattering to the counter, as he claps.

“That’s right, “ Johnny laughs, “but we’ll always come back to you, you guys and your Mama are the most important things in the world to us. So we try our hardest to always come back. Can you do me a favor tho Lala girl?” He asks, and Isla nods eagerly.

“The next time you hear your Mama cryin’ I want you to give her the biggest hug ever okay? And don’t be afraid to tell her it’s okay to be sad too. I think sometimes Mama forgets she can be sad, because she’s so busy trying to make sure none of you bairns are sad.” Johnny gives her a soft smile.

“I can do that Da, can we finish the cookies now?” She grabs the scoop again and looks at Theo and Soap.

“Of course,” he smiles again and you duck out of the archway, just out of sight. Your eyes burn, but you blink back the tears and take a moment to compose yourself. You didn’t realize that Isla had heard you crying. You tried desperately to be quiet, but Islas' room was across the hall and she must've heard you while she went to the bathroom. 

You take another deep breath and step out into the kitchen with a smile on your face as you walk to the large kitchen island.

“Mama! Mama!” Theo yells, “We are making you cookies!” 

“Cookies? For me? Thank you baby,” You lean down pressing a kiss to his messy curls, the purple bunny ears poking you in the face. You look over the 4 large cookie sheets that are dotted with cookie dough.

“Wow it looks like you guys made enough for everyone, huh?” You smile at Isla and she nods. 

“Yeah! Da said we had to triple the recipe because there are soooo many of us,” She explains, scooping another ball of dough from the large metal bowl. 

“That's true, there are a lot of people in our house. Do you know how many?” You slip into a bar stool, your eyes catching Soaps above Theos head. He gives you a panty dropping smile and a wink.

“Uh,” Isla thinks hard for a moment, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “Theres Me, Theo, Kira, Joseph and Hope, that's 5… Mama, Papa, Dad, Daddy and Da. That's 5 too… and 5 plus 5 makes 10!” She beams. “There's 10 people who live in our house. Right Da?”  She looks over her shoulder.

“That's right Lass, 10 people so far,” he raises his eyebrows suggestively at you.

“So far? What does that mean? Why are Mama’s cheeks so red?” She scrunched her brows looking between you and Johnny.

“Nothing baby, Da is just being silly,” you roll your eyes. Isla shrugs and goes back to her job. Between her and Theo it doesn't take long for the cookie dough to be laid out on every cookie sheet you own. You help Johnny by putting them in the large commercial size stove, even with your giant oven you can only fit 4 cookie sheets at a time. After Johnny cleans up Theo and Isla he starts to work on the dishes, you perch yourself on a bar stool and watch as he methodically washes each dish. 

The sounds of Theo and Isla playing floats through the house as they play in the large playroom at the front of the house. Kyle comes into the kitchen and places his hands on your hips, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. 

“The cookies smell good, good to know Johnny didn't mess them up,” he teases. Johnny looks over his shoulder narrowing his eyes at Gaz.

“Oi, it was one time, and it wasn't even my fault!” He huffs.

“No you’re right you just decided to let the twins measure everything out and they put half a cup of salt instead of a teaspoon,” Kyle laughs.

“Shall we talk about your lasagna, then?” You look up at Kyle and his smile drops.

“You said you wouldn't bring that up,” he grumbles, his hands squeezing your waist softly.

“Did i?” You feign innocence, batting your lashes at him.

“Cheeky woman,” Kyle mutters, peppering your face with feather light kisses.

“Keep that up and I might have to steal you for round 2..” Soap's voice is rough and low as he looks at you and Kyle.

Your cheeks blush for what feels like the millionth time today, and you shake your head. “You’re insatiable,” you roll your eyes, slipping from the stool and walking towards the door. “Don't let the cookies burn!” You call over your shoulder.

“Ah Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny curses.

You walk down the hall, peeking your head into the playroom, to see Isla and Theo sitting in a large bean bag chair, Theo peering over the edge of the learning tablet Isla is playing with. A smile plays at the corner of your lips as you walk towards the staircase. You slowly climb the stairs, pausing briefly at Hope's bedroom door to look in. The 14 month old lays on her stomach, her bum up in the air, stuffed bunny tucked in her arms as she sleeps. You quietly close the door and climb the second staircase up to the 3rd floor of your house. There were 3 rooms up here, a small half bath, John’s office, and a guest room used only when Kyle or Johnny's parents came to visit. 

You pull open the french doors to John’s office, stepping into the warm room. The hunter green walls lined with heavy oak bookshelves, his large desk sat in the middle of the room facing the floor to ceiling window. An old leather couch sits along one wall and you sink into the soft brown leather. Your fingers brushing across the cracked and worn material. You pull the fluffy green blanket off the back and wrap it around yourself. Your knees pulled up to your chest, your chin resting on top of them as you stare at the landscape outside the window.

Your fingers picking at the loose threads on the blankets. You came up here to get some alone time. No one usually ventures into John's office when he isn't home. Your mind drifts as you watch the fluffy white clouds roll by. Your eyes grow heavy as you enjoy the quiet.

You must've dozed off, your body jolting awake when a hand touches your shoulder. Your head whips up, eyes meeting a pair of dark brown ones.

Simon. Those eyes belonged to Simon.

The tension leaves your shoulders as he crouches next to the couch, his broad shoulders block the light from the window. His blonde eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. Those dark eyes studying every part of your face. 

“Hi,” you whisper, voice still thick with sleep.

“Hi Lovie, you alright?” He asks, his large hand taking your much smaller ones.

“I’m okay, tired,” you shrug, your fingers wiggling against his palm. “How was the library?”

“Good, Kira and Joseph got 2 books each, and they brought home a few for the younger kids. They’re all in the kitchen eating cookies with Kyle and Johnny. Are you sure you’re okay?” He squeezes your hands again. 

You sigh, Simon had a way of seeing right through you. Your other husbands did too, but they often erred on the side of caution when it came to confronting you about it. At some point or another they had pushed just a little too hard when you were having a bad day and you snapped. Basically chewing their heads off before you burst into tears. The other 3 had panicked, not sure what to do, their efforts to comfort you had ended with you hitting their chest as you told them to go away. Cursing at them for pushing you on things you weren't ready to talk about. They had quickly learnt that you would come to them when you were ready. But Simon on the other hand didn't care. He welcomed your outburst, taking each emotion with stride. He’d let you beat on his chest until your arms hurt. Until your anger gave way to your true emotions. 

“No.. im not okay,” you relent. Simon just looks at you, waiting for you to explain.

“I know you're going to be leaving soon, and I know at this point I should be used to it. It's been 8 years of deployments. But it doesn't get any easier.. And now the kids are starting to get to the age where they ask questions, wanting to know what you guys do while you're gone. They're starting to understand that what you're doing is dangerous. I don't know how I'm supposed to explain to them what happens if one of you doesn't come home…” you trail off, feeling a weight settle on your chest.

“I can't promise we’ll come home, I won't lie to you and tell you that we will. I’ve never sugar coated that. But you’re stronger than you think Lovie, I know that you can handle everything here. You’re an amazing Mum to our kids. You’re so kind to them, so patient. I know it's hard when we're away. But I promise we won't be doing as many missions as before. Price has had a few meetings with Kate about us stepping back, training a new team to take our place. We don't want to lose any more time with you and the kids. Besides, I've heard through the grapevine that we have a more important mission here.” He brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Oh? What's that?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Something about knocking you up again,” he smiles like a cat who got the canary. He shifts forward on his knees. Large hands pawing at your sides as he drags you down the couch. His hand flicking open the button of your jeans. Your chest heaves as he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to the skin below your navel. Goosebumps erupt on your skin Simon flicks his tongue out, wetting your skin.

“Simon…” You breathe, your hands tangling in his soft blonde hair. 

“I know Love,” he murmurs against your skin, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your jeans and panties, tugging them down in one swift motion. You reach for his own waistband, undoing his belt in one swift motion. His brown eyes burn into you as he slides his hand up the inside of your thighs and drags them through the wetness that pools between them.

“Such a good girl for me, always so ready for me,” Simon praises, his eyes straying to the bruise marks on your hips from when John fucked you into the bathroom counter. “Looks like someone already played rough with you today. How did that to you Love? Those weren't there when i left you in the bathroom this morning, tell me was it Kyle or John who bruised that pretty skin of yours.” He slips a finger into you, and you groan, your inner walls fluttering around his thick digits.

“John..” you moan as he curls his fingers into you hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

“Did Kyle fuck you too?” He asks, his other hand palming his hard cock through his boxers. 

“Mmmm, yes..” you pant, your hands wrapping around his wrist as he fucks you with his fingers. 

“Must be my turn then, huh,” he kisses you softly, his lips slanting over yours for a moment, stealing your breath away. “Want me to fill you up? Stuff you full of my cum like the others? Fuck a baby into you?” 

“Ahh- yes, Si.. Please,” you gasp and pant. Back arching off the couch as you press your hips into his hand. Grinding your clit against the heel of his palm.

“Fuckin’ hell, such a good girl,” Simon groans as he pulls his hand from your dripping pussy. Shoving his jeans down his thick thighs, he grabs your ankles spinning you on the couch so your back presses into the cushions. Your thighs spread, ass hanging off the seat. He leans up on his knees, his cock nudging your tight entrance. One hand grips the flesh of your thigh as he holds you from falling off the couch. The other wraps around the column of your throat. He gives it a gentle squeeze, not enough to cut off oxygen just enough to restrict it as he bullies his cock into you. 

Your vision blurs as he thrusts into you, his pace steady and even as he fucks you into the couch. Loud moans tear from your throat as he pounds into you. Your body trembles as his cock rubs against your walls. 

“Cum for me beautiful,” He grunts, applying more pressure to your throat. Tiny black pin pricks dance in your vision as he picks up his pace. Your legs trembling, Simon's brown eyes stare into you, his hips faltering as he gets closer to the edge. You moan loudly, air flooding your lungs as he releases your throat, and rubs tight fast circles on your clit. Your body tingles from head to toe as your orgasm rips through you. 

“Fuck!” Simon shouts as he stills inside you, his release painting your walls with thick white ropes of cum. He leans down pressing his forehead to yours as he breathes heavily. You stay like that for a moment, catching your breath as your legs stop trembling. 

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his once more.

“I love you too,” he whispers back.

You and Simon change into your clothes, and he settles you in his lap, big arms wrapped around your waist as you snuggle into him. Your quiet moment doesn't last long, the tell tale sound of boots on the stairs causes both of you to look over at the glass doors. John stands just outside of them, Hope resting on his hip, a small smile on his face as he takes in the sight of you and Simon on the couch. Hope babbles happily in his arms, her chubby fingers grabbing at the brim of his Boonie hat. He pulls open the doors and steps into the room. Hope clapping her hands as she sees you. 

“Mamamamama” She babbles, reaching out to you, and you open your arms for her. John carefully puts her in your lap and brushes his fingers along your cheek. You glance up your eyes meeting his own, and that's when you see it, the hard lines around his eyes, the rigid set of his jaw as he watches you. 

“When do you leave?” You ask softly, focusing your attention on the baby in your arms as she yanks on your shirt.

“Later tonight, after the kids are in bed,” he sighs, “I'm sorry Darling, I tried to get out of it. But Laswell needs us.” 

Simon presses his face into your shoulder. There goes your bubble. Popped.

Next: Part 3

[xuchiya]

need to know [j.yunho]

₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

₊˚.༄ I heard from a friend of a friend That dick was a ten out of ten ₊˚.༄

  Yunho has been busy lately and you were not liking one bit of it. It has been weeks since you wanted to hang out with him and considering that he had been rejecting your invites; maybe it is time to spend some days without and let yourselves be on your own stories.

You can't blame Yunho for taking responsibility for his father's company so why would be a bad friend to him?

You dress up in less clothing for your stream much less by a short crop hoodie that shows a little of your cleavage then your tiny boxer shorts. A streamer of summer, that was your nickname given by your fans— Summer. You have always been a streamer for playing horror whether be a psychological or thrill chasing games, maybe sometimes by playing valorant.

    You were at first called out for dressing way too– short nonetheless you explain that you tend to be really comfortable with playing in less clothing and people see your excellence in playing. You throw on anti-rad glasses before starting your stream, “What is up my dudes! It’s your streamer– Summer and we’ll continue playing Poppy Playtime!”

 While waiting for the game to load, you read the comments, “Looking good as always …  Thank you … Playing alone today? Yeah since they didn’t want to play this one. San is too scared …  Where’s Yunho? Oh he’s currently busy— he’s been busy nowadays so I had to play this alone. “

  After the chapter ended, you were left with a heart attack and sore throat from getting sudden jump scare but overall you enjoy the whole game, you look towards at the camera, “Well that is it for the chapter 2 since the chapter 3 will be out soon and …” glancing at the time to see that you have been playing for just an hour, “aye it’s still early. Do you guys want me to play or just talk with you guys?”

  Some comments were saying to talk since it has been a while since you went live so you went with their request, “Okay okay I’ll answer some questions then …”

 “Since when did I start playing? I think it was around 3 years ago that I started streaming through the gameplays? I was 14 when I started doing my gameplays …”

“You dance? Of course, Yeosang and Wooyoung are actually my classmates in a studio we enrolled in.” 

“Where’s Yunho? Oh he’s at work, I’m little sad he has not been spending time with me like … Tell me your schedule, I got a lotta new tricks for you .. I’M KIDDING HAHAHA!”

“Do you like Doja Cat? Yes, a hundred percent yes, I’m a huge fan of hers speaking of that …” You opened your phone to show them your last song you listened to, “I swear this is my go to song when I’m feeling myself you know…” You chuckle showing them a hand gesture down to our body.  Some of your fans ask you to play the song, some of them want you to sing or mouth the lyrics, you cackle at the last one.

  “I can’t do that, it looks weird but we can still let this play and talk …”     The music plays—affecting not only your fans, not you who is feeling the actual lyrics but the one who has been watching from their phone ever since you started streaming. 

 “Do you want to know a french word? Je suis excite.. Je suis excite, that means I’m excited right? Excite probably is exciting .. Am I right?” you said your eyes were widened a little bit, looking at the comment section for confirmation and you see some were saying yes, right and correct.

 But little did you know, it meant something different else.

 Their pants had made themselves quite uncomfortable, tight and suffocating as their eyes not only stare at your gameplay but at your display cleavage. As much as they tried to not to look like a pervert but how could he— He has desires that he tried to stir away; afraid to ruin your friendship but with you said those words as if telling him that you are horny. Adding to the fact you just said something along the line of having ‘tricks’.

  “Ohmygosh I should go to sleep or Seonghwa-oppa would smack me in the head … I’ll see you guys soon.” You did your outro and the live ended.

  Yunho tucked back his phone, walking inside your shared apartment. He and you were able to share an apartment under your brother’s permission since they both work for the same company and he did not mind as long as you both had an agreement or house rules settled.

 Those words were a huge trigger to him as he had been evading your presence; as much as dumb it sounds, his dick can not cooperate with him. Whether you were in your hoodie or favourite pajamas, nothing beats when he wants you all for himself. Love you, praise you, worship you, choke you, dick you down—

  “Oh yuyu!” You were startled when you exit your room to see Yunho leaning on the counter with a cold drink in his hand, his eyes landing on your figure and all his last string snap when you just walk in with your zipper open, exposing your tits out.

  You tried to cover them last minute but Yunho was faster, grabbing your wrist, spinning you to pin you on his chest. He leaned down, voice gruff from the pain in his pants and overwhelming horniness spilling out of his body, “nice way to greet me … tits out? Do you walk around with this …” his other free hand ran up to your chest, playing with your nipple and giving it a squeeze, making you moan a little too loud but to Yunho's liking.

 “I-I thought you won’t be home … fuck! “ Yunho breathy laugh, giving your other boob the same treatment but this time adding a slap on it, your back arching in the pain and pleasure making your ass brush up on his hard dick in his pants. 

  “Feel that? you’re the cause of it … now be a good girl for me and choke yourself on my cock.” 

  

“F-fuck! … Yunho– Oh my God!” your face was red and sweaty from how many hours Yunho had you pinned down on your bed, taking you from behind; had his dick ramming himself back and forth, hitting every inch of your walls then his tip knocking at your cervix several times as if trying to reach a deeper part of you to bury his cum.

  “You don’t know how long i wanted to fuck you so dumb that it makes me want to go faster and harder on you .. do you like that? Do you want me to keep hammering you down on this bed like a bitch on heat?” You never knew Yunho was into this kind of thing, rough and mouthy.

 You were crying out of pleasure as Yunho drilled his cock deeper and deeper until you clench around him that had him smacking his (veiny) hands on your ass, “Yu-Yunho— eugh fuck– I’m gonna cum, gonna cum– !” Yunho continues slamming his hips as your eyes roll back as you reach your orgasm, creaming his dick and milking him dry. Yunho chuckles, wrapping one of his hands around your throat, pulling you closer, bottomless.

  “You like that huh? You like it when I fuck you this hard?” You dive on the sheets, Yunho's pace persistent in making his dick wet and creamy on your puffy pussy. You look over your shoulders, engulfed in overwhelming bliss, you speak with assertive tone, “clap me, choke me, bite me Yunho.” 

 Yunho pulls out, leaving just the tip inside as he adjust his grip from your throat down to your hips, in spite of that he shoves back while you pulling back, “FUCK!” you cried, your fingers circling around his wrist, “Yu-yu — wait you’re going too fast.”

 He shakes his head, his eyebrows arching, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, “I haven’t cum yet and we can fuck all night baby.” He keep thrusting back and forth,leaning forward to grasp both of your nipples in his fingers, twisting, pulling them.

  Your head swirling with so much euphoria that it sent electricity vibrating down your pussy as you were reaching your second orgasm quickly, this time a little different from the last one, long strings of ‘oh’ and ‘fuck’.

  “Tell me baby, i need to know one thing …” He licks his lips, pressing you on his bare chest, continue to pound inside of you, almost nearing his climax, “come on baby, i didn’t fuck you that dumb did i? Now answer me.”

  You were breathing hastily, orgasm around the corner but you know best that if you don’t speak now, Yunho won’t let you cum, “Wh-What is it?”

  “Have you been fantasising about this one? Did someone tell you?” You nodded, your head moving swiftly, you felt his chest vibrate as he breathy laughs, “Yeah? 

“ y-yes…”

“From who?”

  Your throat clogged yet you oblique, moaning when his tip brushes on your cervix once again, your dignity slowly crashing but who could you blame? You were fantasising all of this for the longest time that you slipped out to one of your friends about your huge daydream to Yunho that one of your friends may or may not slip about him.

  “I heard .. I heard from a friend of a friend … that your dick is better than their exes.” His hip halted, pulling out— groaning at the emptiness but you were taken back when Yunho pulled you off the bed and towards your balcony; your eyes widened as he pushes you the makeshift knitted lounge chair.

  “Well one …” yunho’s lips brush on your ears warmly, “I have never met your friends …” He inserted himself back in, slamming back on your pussy, “And second well .. they’re not wrong.”

 Yunho pace didn’t falter as he locked his arms on yours, your arms pulled on your back; your chest full on display, bouncing each time Yunho hammered back. Broken groans left Yunho and you were also reaching your climax, “Fuck yunho!” 

 “Take my cum like a good girl!” Your eyes were clouded in euphoria, feeling full as he spurted all his cum inside you, painting your walls white. Your hole clenches on his dick before gushes of your juice burst, wetting his dick and the lounge chair.

  Yunho let go of your arms and replace his softening dick with his fingers, brushing them left and right as you squirt, your lips puckering

“Oh look at that, such a good girl. Keep squirting baby~” Yunho slaps, wipe your pussy letting you ride on your orgasm before he pulls away. Your knees gave out, thankfully Yunho caught you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder and at the back of your knees. He leads you both to your bathroom, setting you on the cold marble tile of your sink.

   Yunho settles you on the bathtub, warm water with bubbles of rose were floating on the water. You sigh contentedly, “Is this what I get for flashing you my boobs to you?”

  He laughs, shaking his head as he settles at the other end of the tub, “You want a princess treatment?” His eyes watch you carefully, cheek flaring. You played with the foam bubbles, “If you don’t mind me being your girlfriend then yeah, I want a princess treatment.”

Yunho leans towards you, leaving a soft kiss on your lips, "Deal."

 It was something you and Yunho had in common. Straightforwardness. Yet here you both are, in a situation you thought is just all in your head and fantasy.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Is That Subway Surfers? - 1k Special

GUYS WE ARE OVER 1K FOLLOWERS! I NEVER EXPECTED THIS TO HAPPEN OH MY WORD

It's only been, what, two months since I started "To Do is to Dare"? That's crazy!!

So for celebration, here is a little backstory on how Arthur and Reader met and a little look into her early Dams days with him and Ollie!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED!

Thanks for all the love!!

December 2022

You hung your head as Vito went over the details one more time. 

“Ok, kid. Dams wants to sign you for your last year. And you’ll be partnering with Arthur Leclerc. You know him?” You manager questioned as he held his iPad. 

You only rolled your eyes. “I know of him. Isn’t his brother the Ferrari driver? Uh, Charles?” 

Vito nodded at your limited knowledge. “Bingo. Dams thinks that the two of you have similar driving styles and that he’ll push you to win the championship.” 

You looked down at your iPad that was in your hands. Arthur’s smiley face stared back at you. A list of his credentials were to the left of the picture. You looked back up at your manager. You were thankful for another chance, but you were skeptical. 

“Prema didn’t want to keep me for one more year?” You let out a scoff at the end for a good measure. The team that helped you through Formula 3 and your first two years of Formula 2 suddenly dropped you after a few mistakes: mistakes that honestly shouldn’t have happened. 

Vito’s hand dropped on your shoulder and he crouched down to eyelevel. He gave you a sympathetic smile. He knew you were nervous of the unknown and he wished Lorenzo could have been here for you. But, he was trying his best. 

“Kid.” You locked eyes with him, tears in your lash line. “I know it’s scary, but give the team a chance. This could be it.” 

It meaning your last chance to win the championship and maybe get a foot in the door for a future Formula 1 seat. Your next best bet would be to get a test driver seat for McLaren or even Red Bull. But your chances were slim as most of the top teams already had who they wanted with several year contracts in place. 

You put the iPad down and took multiple breaths. If you were to give the ok, you’d be meeting your future teammate very quickly. 

A trying smile formed on your face. “I think I’ll miss Ollie though. He was a cool kid.”

Vito granted you with another eyeroll. “You speak as if you’re like 5 years older than him.”

Realistically speaking, you were almost two years older than the British driver. But, his “childish” antics made you feel as though you really had to watch out for him. 

Vito continued, “And that kid loves you to death. You just need to get over your thoughts of you being unlovable.” 

Your head swayed back and forth and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s go meet this, uh, French dude?”

“He’s Monégasque.”

You clicked your tongue. “Ah.” 

Vito packed up his bag and the iPads and led you out of your small Nice apartment. The drive to the headquarters wasn’t a long one. You just spent the majority of it watching small raindrops fall down your window, hoping that the smaller one would win the imaginary race that was going on in your head. 

“Kid, we her-…” 

“DANG IT YOU SHOULD HAVE WON!” Your fist hit the door. You suddenly froze and turned to look at Vito, who was already staring at you. The two of you then suddenly burst into laughter. It took you two a while to calm down, but you eventually made your way into the large building. 

The hallways were a bit confusing, but you and Vito finally made it to the conference room. Sadly though, the two of you were the last ones there. A blond boy was sitting in one of the plush chairs, looking intently at his phone. 

You guessed he didn’t hear you come in, as you were able to take a seat right next to him. Your eyes barely glanced over, before you saw him playing your favorite mobile game. 

“Is that Subway Surfers?” you whispered as you watched Vito introduce himself to the other adults in the room. 

Arthur practically jumped out of his chair at the new voice right in his ear. His wide green eyes were met with you, trying not to laugh too hard. 

He stuttered out in broken French, “Je – je suis vraiment desole. Je ne savais pas que tu etais la et j’aurais du faire attention, et oh mon dieu, tu es vraiment jolie et maintenant je divague...” 

(I – I am so sorry. I didn’t know you were there and I should have been paying attention, and oh my gosh you’re really pretty and now I’m rambling…)

You only stared as he was falling over his words. You put a hand on his leg and he shut up quickly. 

“First off, I legit didn’t understand a word you said. And second, whatever it is, it’s fine! I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.” You flashed a bright smile at him.

Arthur tried once again, in English with a heavy accent, “I, uh, am sorry. I should have been paying attention. I’m Arthur.” 

He held out his hand for you to take. Your hand grasped his and you shook it. 

“Hi Arthur, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet my teammate for this season.” 

He flashed you an even larger smile. In your mind, you thought he was adorable. He let out a small laugh as he turned off his phone. 

“It was Subway Surfers. I love the game.” 

“So do I! It’s so much fun.” 

“Are you two done flirting already or can we begin to talk contracts?” Vito’s voice pulled the two of you from your little bubble. With sheepish smiles from both of you, you turned your attention to the CEO. 

The meeting was a few hours long, and by the end of it, you were starving. As you were leaving, Arthur grasped your hand, which made you stop. Vito just calmly said that he’d be waiting in the car. 

“Yes?” You cocked your head as you looked up at the taller boy. 

He had a shy smile as he looked down at you. “Would you like to join me and my friend for dinner? We’re just going to a local restaurant and it’s not too far.” 

As your brain was trying to come up with an excuse, Vito yelled from where he was standing by the vehicle. “She would love to! Just have her give you her address. Have fun kid!” 

And with that, he got into the car and drove away. All while you were standing next to Arthur with your mouth open. You quickly closed it to not look like a loser. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll come with?” It came out more like a question, but Arthur just went with it. He led you to his car and you were surprised it wasn’t a decked out Ferrari. 

You only smirked. “Not a Ferrari guy?” 

Arthur rolled his eyes as he got in the driver side. “That would unfortunately be my brother. I might be part of the academy, but we don’t get any fancy treatment.”

You snorted at that. “Yeah, I’ve never actually been a test driver for any team. I have my own management and everything.” 

Arthur raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask anything else. 

The ride to the restaurant was fairly quiet and not awkward. Around halfway through, he had finally turned on the radio. 

And although Arthur didn’t drive a fancy car, he was not above valet parking. 

“Hold on,” he told you as he quickly got out and skirted around the front to open your door. You looked up at him with a shy smile. 

“What a gentleman.” He hand firmly but gently grasped yours as he led you through the doorway. 

“My maman would have my head. Ah, there’s my friend.” Arthur pointed to a table near the back. 

But to your surprise, you definitely recognized the brunet that looked bored to death.

“Ollie!” you called out. 

The Brit’s head whipped up at the sound of your voice. A giant smile formed on his face as he stood up. You quickly brought him into a hug. 

“I didn’t know you knew Arthur?” He questioned as the three of you sat down. Arthur called the waiter over so that you could get a drink. 

You looked over at the green-eyed driver. “Hmmm, just met today actually.” 

Arthur sipped his water. “We’re teammates for this year.” 

Ollie looked back and forth, ideas forming in his mind. But, he wouldn’t be telling the ideas to you any time soon. 

“What is that smirk for,” you questioned. 

“You totally scared him when you met him. Didn’t you?” 

“You scared him too?” 

Oh, boy were you screwed for the next years. 

(What you didn’t know was that these boys would become two of you very best friends. And maybe one of them would become something more.)  

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 am I interrupting something? tagged: olliebearman and arthur_leclerc

liked by y/n_nation, y/n-fan, y/n_is_on_top, and 10,839 others

olliebearman no comment?

prema_y/n ahaha prema racers back together

y/n_fan well, until prema dropped her... y/nxarthur well, now we get ollie AND arthur content so I'm not complaining

arthur_leclerc btw I wiped it right off

olliebearman YOU TAKE THAT BACK y/n.89 girls, girls, girls, let's not fight

prema_trio your honor, I love them

best_rookie_y/n anyone else here from 2024 and is here to see how little y/n was

olliebearman has posted

olliebearman who's the third-wheel now hmmmm? tagged: y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc

liked by premaracing, olliebear2, y/n_lover29, and 15,983 others

y/n.89 still you?

y/n&friends they are so hot

ollie_is_my_guy I could take them (but not in a fight)

olliebearman he is not THAT funny

arthur_leclerc yes I am y/n.89 ollie is a certified Arthur haterrrrr olliebearman then you'd be a certified Arthur loverrrrrr y/n.89 shut UP

y/n_nation our girl and her boys :D

arthur_leclerc has posted

arthur_leclerc why are we always at restaurants? tagged: y/n.89 and olliebearman

liked by y/n.89, olliebearman, charles_leclerc, and 58,284 others

y/n.89 because we like food (and none of us can actually cook)

charles_leclerc felt arthur_leclerc go away

thur_thur_92 I wonder who won

olliebearman me arthur_leclerc me y/n.89 wrong, it was me

best_trio_2023 they all give chaotic gen z energy and I am here for it!

y/n_loves_ME its the fact that Arthur is technically the oldest cause he's 22 right now while y/n is 19 and Ollie just turned 18

y/n.89 yet he still acts like a child

rb_y/n we need this trio to get back together in 2024 ASAP

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 they watch kung-fu panda ONCE tagged: olliebearman and arthur_leclerc

liked by y/n_nation, f2_fanatic, prema_trio22, and 19,274 others

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[sports-on-sundays]

and I can change / CL16 / Part 2

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - Charles would do anything to convince you to forgive him. He'd do anything to revive his family.

Warnings: Again, Y/s/n is 'your son's name'. And again, his age is unspecified- you decide what you think. crying (LOTS of crying), mention of drunkenness, mention of sex, mention of cheating, broken relationships, broken family, censored cussing

Requested?: Yeah! Requested by some sweet souls who read part 1! @barcelonaloverf1life @architect-2015 @emz2092 @cilliansgirl @lunamelona @lightdragonrayne @leclercgirl16

Author's Note: You guys asked for it, so I gave it! I hope you enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Also I'm thinking after this part I'll write a part 3, and then after that maybe a little epilogue, to wrap this up. Tell me what you think. Also, this is the link to part 1 / and the link to part 3

"Y/n, people change.

"And I can change, too."

You lay on your bed, engulfed in the darkness of the room surrounding you. The darkness seems to go deeper than just your surroundings- deeper, and into you.

Over and over the scene plays through your mind. Those words that Charles had uttered. The way he had clutched your hand in both of his, as if it were his only lifeline. In that moment, the desperation his eyes had denoted was incredible.

Charles, why? Why couldn't you let go? You're making it all so much more complicated.

But you know what he would say. Why? Why, Y/n? Because this isn't just about myself. Don't you see the brokenness in our son? Don't you see it?

Guilt washes over you, and then rage.

I shouldn't be the one feeling guilt. He should. He's the one who messed up our family. He's the one who's fault it is!

The way he cried, though.

The desperation.

The thing is that he is feeling guilty. Or at least so it seemed.

But does he really deserve a second chance? Do you?

Your phone rings at 12:00 A.M. On the dot. Charles has always been on the dot. Unless he's drunk, that is.

Why is he calling?

Right when I'm thinking about him, too.

Although this really isn't too surprising, when you consider it. For the past week and a half or so, you've stayed up until roughly 2:00 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking, unable to convince yourself into peace and slumber.

And now a call comes.

Charles, why?

It feels terrible as you answer. "Charles. Don't call me."

"Y/n," he says in a calm voice. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you snap, trying to keep it down. Your son is sleeping (hopefully) in the next room.

"For reacting so emotionally. I'm sorry. For years this has weighed on me, but crying and begging won't get us anywhere."

"We're not going anywhere, whether you cry and beg or not." You hang up.

A month after that call where you rejected Charles for what you hoped would be the last time, there's a knock on the door on a Saturday. You walk to it, and freeze when you look through the peephole.

Why is Charles Leclerc here?

Anxiety hits you. The house is a mess, you've got no food to give him, you look like a mess in your pajamas and unbrushed hair-

How can he just show up at your door like this?

It's obnoxious.

You honestly are about to pretend you aren't home, but then Y/s/n suddenly runs in, squealing, "Mama, who is it?! Is it the mailman?"

You sigh at your son's strange fascination for the mailman. You're not completely sure why he enjoys the young, dry, monotone mailman, and for years just assumed because he was generally a nice bloke, and little kids are weird, until you realized with an ounce of dread that the mailman resembles Charles, in a way. After that, you've never encouraged his enthusiasm for the mailman, just in case that was the reason, whether conscious or not.

"No, no," you sigh, unlocking the door. "It's not the mailman, love."

"Who is it, Mama?"

As you swing the door open, you murmur, "Well, love, none other but your father."

"Daddy!" the little boy, still in his Lightning McQueen pajamas, squeals, running to hug his father. You glance away, staring at the floor.

Charles hugs your son, kissing him, and exclaims, "Aw, there's my little buddy! How are you, man?"

"I'm good, Daddy! Are you coming to live here now, Daddy?!"

"Ugh- Not quite..." He picks up your son, and looks to you, immediately saying, "Sorry it's such short notice."

You grit your teeth, murmuring, "You mean no notice?"

"Right," he nods with a quick exhale.

While the presence of your son is a burden for you, preventing you from showing your true feelings, it may be an advantage for Charles, to get across what he needs to get across. Whatever that may be.

Because this is all just a game. Everyone with their own different motives. Y/s/n wants Mama and Daddy to love each other because he wants one place to live. Charles' motives are unknown, but probably are just manipulative and selfish- about making himself feel better. And your motive? You don't want to relive the past, so will avoid Charles at all costs.

Charles' and Y/s/n's motives align more with each other than your's.

You look at your son. Who you love so much. He looks at you with hope. Charles looks at you with... a very similar expression.

These two.

How can you love one and hate the other?

They're both family, as much as you hate to admit it. Because one of them, you wish you could erase.

No. But you don't. Because if you'd never met Charles, Y/s/n would never have been born. And you can't even begin to imagine your life without him.

You hold the door open, and gesture to the couch. "Sit down, Charles. I'm going to get dressed, and then put the kettle on." You say all this through gritted teeth.

How can he just walk in as if he owns the place?

He nods. "Thank you, Y/n." You watch in the doorway to the hall as Charles sits down on the couch with his son on his lap. You watch as he says softly, picking up a toy car from off the rug, "This car is awesome, Y/s/n. Where'd you get it?"

"Mama got it for me! For my birthday!" Y/s/n takes it from his father's hand with much pride, and starts driving it across Charles' chest, up onto his neck, and eventually onto his cheeks. The whole time, Charles laughs, his hand on his son's back to keep him from tipping off his lap.

"That's a super cool car. Does it have a name?"

"Uhhh," Y/s/n frowns. "Zoom! Because he goes zooooom!"

"Oh, it's a he?"

"Of course," Y/s/n says, as if this fact should be obvious. Then he giggles, "Because girls smell."

"They smell?! No way. Girls don't smell."

"Yeah, they do," he crosses his arms, frowning at his father. "You don't know any girls. You only know... Uh, Cah-los."

Charles laughs out loud. "The only person I know is 'Cah-los'?"

"Yep! And Uncle Arthur and Uncle Lorenzo, but that's it!" your son claims in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Their conversation continues, but you finally turn to leave and get yourself fixed up. You quickly shower, brush your teeth and hair, put on moisturizing cream, perfume, and deodorant, and put on a beige hoodie, grey sweatpants, and slides, before going to make tea. The whole time, you mind swirls.

Why is he here? Why is he here on a Saturday? Why is he here, without even asking to come? It's so... obnoxious.

You finish making two cups of tea, finding with awe as you make them that you remember exactly the way Charles likes his tea, and you're doing it automatically.

Because I used to do this so much.

You walk back in with the tea and see the two boys sitting on the rug now. Charles is tickling Y/s/n's tummy, and both of them are laughing- Charles with more of a chuckle and Y/s/n with more of a squealing giggle. When Charles sees you, he slowly stops, saying with a little sigh, "Alright, bud. Mama's back with my tea, and I mean to drink it."

"But Daddyyy!"

"Nope!" he grins, standing up, ruffling his son's messy hair. He then walks to you, and you hand him his tea. He lights up when he tastes the tea and looks at you, muttering softly, "My God, you remembered how I like my tea...?"

"Don't jump to sh*t, Charles," you murmur, soft enough for Y/s/n not to hear.

"Right," he sighs, sitting down again on the couch.

You set your tea down, walking to your son. "Alright, love. I want you to go in your room now, okay? Remember the Lego plane you were building? Why don't you work on that? I want to see it once it's finished, okay? And if you need anything, call, okay? Don't come in here. Just call, and one of us will come."

He looks questioningly. "Why, Mama?"

"Me and your father have important things to talk about. And if you don't listen, there will be consequences."

He blinks, pouting.

"I'll turn on your storybook audio for you. Come on." You bring him to his room and get him set up, until you're sure he's completely distracted with the Legos and the storybook. Only then do you come back to the living room and sit down awkwardly next to Charles.

He's still wearing his red windbreaker from when he was outside, and a black scarf hangs loose around his neck. His hair is a bit messed up, but he looks perfect, like always.

Too perfect.

"Let me take your scarf and jacket. And your shoes."

"Right," he says with a swift nod, handing you his scarf, coat, and sleek black boots. You put them by the door, and sit down, viewing the cozy grey sweater adorning his frame. You have a passing thought, considering how much unnecessary money he might have spent on such a garment.

"So?" you ask in a tense voice. "What is this all about, Charles?"

"There are some things we need to work out. You're right- one of the many things I've done wrong to you is always being a f*cking coward. You're right. I didn't say what was on my mind, and I faked it, and I kept quiet, because I didn't want to upset you. But now I see that the only thing I can do now is speak up, be honest, and be a man. You rightfully left me because I wasn't being a proper man. I wasn't being your proper man. I was being a terrible husband and a terrible father. But now we need to uncover what's true- we both have different views, both of which are likely exaggerated or incorrect in different ways."

"I don't care, Charles," you say quickly, flat out trying to ignore his admittance to wrong. Perhaps because you don't want it to be true. Because if he's sorry, that means you have to forgive him.

"So you're telling me you'd rather believe lies, just because it makes you feel better? What kind of thinking is that?"

You hate to admit that he's right. So you say nothing.

There's silence. But then he says, "So tell me what happened."

"You know what happen-"

"Tell me, Y/n." His voice isn't rude, but definitely firm.

You swallow, shaking your head. You don't want to work this out. You want to forget Charles. But clearly, that's impossible. "You were irresponsible. You'd get drunk, never be home, never help me. I'd be all on my own... You... You'd use me for your own pleasure but never show true, selfless love... Then you came home drunk saying stuff about a pretty woman and sex and getting pregnant... So you cheated... And I divorced you because I couldn't take it any more." You can't believe it, but you're trying not to choke up as you whisper, "Charles, what we had seemed perfect. Until you messed it up." Your mouth tastes like poison.

Charles stares down, his eyes swirling with everything but empty, at the same time. "Y/n," he whispers. "I was terrible. You're right. I was never around because I was immature and scared. I didn't understand. To get away from it, I drank and had fun with friends."

Your lip curls. "You're not the victim."

"And I never said I was! I was scared of being a father. I was scared of messing up. I wasn't ready and I let everything happen too quickly. I was a coward and I left you. Even though you divorced me, I was the one who left you. That's what happened. I was stupid. I was a terrible person. It's all my fault."

"Why would you be any different now? There's no way for you to prove that. Before the marriage you were fine. It was when we married that you went downhill. It was like... you couldn't stand me."

He looks torn apart. "I loved you. I... I... I still do. I knew I wasn't being a good husband or father and to forget about it, I drank."

"And why wouldn't you still do it now?!"

"Because I don't. I feel more guilt now than I did then! I feel more responsibility now than I did then! And that was my greatest fear! Responsibility! But now I don't drink excessively! Now I don't avoid reality! Because I need you... Our son needs us. Together. Don't you need me?"

"Not the you I know."

"You don't know me anymore. I'm not the same person I was." His voice is so uncommonly firm, it slightly shocks you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

He goes on, "That night, I didn't cheat. I was intoxicated. A young woman was trying to seduce me, but I refused because I had you. You, my beautiful wife, both inside and out. I wanted to convey to you that I said no because you were my wife. However, I failed to communicate this properly, and the next morning, I had completely forgotten the conversation. I chose not to tell you because I thought it would be better if you didn't know. I was afraid you would be angrier with me for being in that situation. I was a coward, and I didn't want you to be upset with me. I didn't realize for years that you believed I had cheated. If I had known, I would have assured you that I didn't cheat, just like I am doing now, and that I never would. Because I didn't. Despite all the mistakes I made, cheating on you is something I would never, ever do. I have always loved you, and only you, far too much for that."

Your hands tremble in your lap as you stare at him, listening.

Now you're the one getting emotional.

Charles leans in close to you- too close for comfort- and whispers, "I've changed... Please. I just want a second chance... To right my wrongs and give you and our son the lives you deserve. I need to give my all to you... I need to make it up to you... It's... It's crushing me."

"Why do you need a second chance?" Your voice, for once, isn't aggressive. It's gentle. Softer. Your voice cracks as you say, "You should have done it right the first time."

You see him swallow. "And you know what? I didn't. I f*cked up. I f*cked up everything. I f*cked up your life and I know it. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and fix it and make it all better. I was stupid, Y/n. I was terrible. I hurt the most beautiful woman and her baby in the world. I'm the least." He takes your hand again in both his, but this time it's a gentler grasp.

"But you're not. You're famous. You have so many fans."

"Do you know how many times I've thought I don't deserve all this? If only I could share it all with you."

"Charles," your voice cracks again, and an unexpected, terrible longing fills you. "I want to believe you, but I can't. I'm broken, Charles, because of you. I can't afford to let you break me again..."

A tear rolls down your cheeks, and immediately he reaches up with his thumb, gently wiping your cheek, "No, Y/n, please don't cry... I don't want you to cry because of me any longer... Please..."

"Charles, I can't do this..." more tears fall.

There's hurt and confusion, but mostly longing and guilt in his eyes. "Please... If you'd only trust me, then we could make this right. I could make this right, after all I did wrong."

You can hardly believe yourself as you let your broken, silently crying self fall into Charles. You allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder, and you allow his arms to wrap around you, giving you his warmth. "Charles..."

"Yes...?" There's a painful hope in his voice.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you cry into his shoulder now.

He whispers right in your ear, "Just give me a chance. Let me be there for you... Let me prove to you... Let me..."

You can't give him a yes or a no. Two sides war inside you- the mask and the face. You feel him stroke your hair as you cry, at the same time as remembering stroking his hair when he was drunk and needed comfort.

This is some sort of paradox, isn't it?

"Charles," you murmur, leaning away after you've gained control of yourself. "The answer is 'I don't know' right now, okay... Consider it... better than hating your guts with an adamant 'no.'"

As he gazes into your eyes, he leans closer. Softly, he places a tender kiss on your cheek and whispers, "I'll be ready whenever you are. And I'll never, ever stop waiting for you."

Weeks pass, and Charles can't understand why, after all that happened that day, still you insist on avoiding him like the plague.

Well, the reason is just that- avoidance. You're avoiding Charles because you don't want to face the possible truth. You're avoiding him because you don't want to make big decisions. You don't want to try again. You don't want to...

Well, you don't want to fall in love again.

And on that day, the way he treated you...

It reminded you of the man you married, and not the man you divorced.

And that scares you. Because you'll never forget the man you divorced.

So you're stubborn and resistent, and you're avoiding him.

So you sit, staring at the screen of your cell phone. Rereading the text on it. Over and over.

Charles Leclerc: I'm sorry for such a long text Y/n but you probably won't read it anyway, so what does it matter? I need to talk with you and you're doing exactly what I've done, what I'm apologizing for. For years I avoided this stuff and one of the reasons we split was that i couldn't stand up and address and tell you my problems. I was being a f*cking coward. And I've said sorry more times than I can count. I thought you might be on the road to forgiveness, to giving me a second chance. I know you felt the same way as me when you leaned into me and let me hold you when you cried- there's something more here, and I don't want you to ignore this. Can't we just try this? Please Y/n? I'm finally willing to step up, be a man, work through all this sh*t with you. Talk about it. I'm finally willing to be brave, and as soon as I am, you're doing the same thing you've yelled at me for years for doing- staying silent.

Charles Leclerc: I love you, Y/n, and this is a problem I desperately want to fix, but the truth of the matter is that you're being a f*cking hypocrite.

Me: How does it feel to be in the position you put me in for years?

You feel mean for typing that, and you're not sure how much you mean it. Maybe you meant to be kinder.

But the anger took over and your thumbs did the talking.

Charles leaves that message on read.

You sit in the cold metal chair, surrounded by pudgy, middle-aged parents and their gross kids all around you as a lone young mother sitting by herself. You're only here to see your son, and none of the other aspects of this situation bring you an ounce of joy.

All of a sudden, a shiver runs down your spine as a firm hand gently lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps up, meeting the gaze of Charles Leclerc. A look of disdain crosses your face, causing your heart to ache as you bluntly ask, "Why are you here?"

Charles takes a seat beside you in the vacant chair and casually remarks, "I've come to attend my son's school concert. And you?" A glimmer of amusement dances in his eyes.

Your jaw tightens in pure irritation, and you manage through gritted teeth in a tense, quiet tone, "Why did you choose to sit next to me?"

Charles hesitates, his expression softening, as he makes an effort to hold your gaze. "Well... Because I..." He swallows and says, "I'm not going to give up on you. That's why. So I figured I'd sit down next to you to watch my- our- son's concert. So..." Abruptly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The veins in his hand are visible as he clasps yours tightly.

Your muscles tense, yet for some reason, you don't pull your hand away.

So throughout the whole school concert, Charles sits, gripping your hand, and seems to refuse to let it go.

And the moment the teacher is done on stage after the little production, thanking people for helping and the kids for doing such a great job and other stuff you don't listen to, Charles turns to you and says, "So, we have some minutes to spare."

Your eyebrows scrunch together. "Come again?"

He chuckles, but it doesn't feel called for. "You weren't listening to her? She said the students can be picked up from their classrooms by their parents in fifteen minutes."

Your jaw clenches again. "Charles, why?"

"Because I know you want it," he says incredibly earnestly. The inside of your heart melts as the outside hardens.

"But I don't think I do."

"But I know you do. Now come on." Your ex-husband stand up, pulling you up with him.

"Where are we going?" you ask. "And please let go of my hand. You've been holding it so long, it's starting to get sweaty."

He clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to either of these, then guides you down various hallways until you reach the school's exit. Finally, he sits down with you on a bench outside the school, and releases your hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's just hang out here for the next ten minutes, okay? We should talk," he says awkwardly, facing you.

"I don't get it. Charles, there's nothing you can do to-"

Charles interrupts, holding your face gently, gazing into your eyes. "Please, don't. Don't say that," he pleads, his thumb brushing your cheek. "There's something we can do. We can make this work... Please..."

His desperation, his begging, makes you want to cry. "Please just let it go... Let me go..."

"No, I don't want you to be trapped... Don't you see you'll be more free with me? You won't have to work as hard.. I'll take care of you and our son... I'll take half the work in the house you have to deal with... I'll... We'll... I just want you to believe that we'll be happier... I'm not saying we need to jump to anything today. I'm just saying, let's be kind to each other... Let's go out to eat sometimes, or go to our son's events together. Let's act just a little bit more like a family, even if we aren't yet. I just want to- I need to- I- I- I..." He trails off. His hands fall off your cheeks, and his shoulders slack. His head goes down.

It's like just the hard look in your eyes alone crushed him.

Like that alone is the huge weight he's bearing.

"F*** me, Y/n... F*** me," he whispers, his hands in his lap trembling. "I don't deserve you. I hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I changed. I still have to live through the consequences of my actions, don't I?" He seems to be talking more to himself, but you have no idea at this point. "Just f*** me." He exhales shakily, before suddenly standing up. He stares you right in your eyes, and your heart breaks when you see the hurt, the destroyed desperation. "It's fine, Y/n." He's trying to keep a level face. But his voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone. I'll let you go. I can see all this is just hurting you more. I never meant to hurt you more. I never meant to bring up the past to hurt you. I wanted to help you... I wanted to help you heal..." He drags a hand over his face. "But clearly I f***ing didn't. Clearly I messed it up again. I f***ing messed up again." He swallows. His eyes glimmer with wetness as he practically whispers, "The last thing I want is to hurt you. So I'll drop it. I'm just being selfish again, aren't I? I think this would be better, but you don't. And that's hurting you. And I never wanted to..." He swallows, his nose crunching up. Suddenly he yells, "I never wanted to hurt you ever again, because I love you, for f***'s sake! I love you, but I did hurt you, because, in the end, no matter what, I'm going to f*** it up anyway! So bye, Y/n!" Suddenly he turns on his feet. Like he doesn't want you to see him cry again. But you can hear the tears in his voice when the last thing he calls back is, "It will go back to normal, and we can pretend none of this ever happened! Pretend I'm a stranger! It's the best for you, anyway, apparently, and all I wanted was the best for you!"

You stare in shock as you watch him get in his car and drive away. You remain seated, gaze straight ahead. Tears well up in your eyes, and your body quivers, yet you manage to compose yourself, rise on unsteady legs, and compel yourself to return to the school to pick up your son.

But that just wasn't right.

I should have stopped him. I should have called him back. I should've.

How far can revenge go before it's gone too far?

For days, the guilt, the hurt, the rue- they weigh on you. Every moment of your days, it consumes your thoughts. Regret and confusion and anger fill you in every step, engulfing your every move. And if you thought you weren't getting any sleep before, now it's even worse.

You long to fix it, but you are unsure of how. Despite everything... You can't see how Charles isn't being honest. You want to have faith in him. A small part of you may even want to love him, just a little bit.

You're also fearful. Fearful of reaching out to him, because you don't know what you'd do. You have no idea.

But now you're dropping your son off at Charles's house. You swallow, and suddenly, on a whim, when you see Charles walking outside, waiting for Y/s/n, you get out of the car, too.

"Mama?" your son asks with a confused expression, still maintaining a little smile on his face.

You smile back down at him and say, "I'm walking you up to your daddy's house today, is all."

He shrug and nods, apparently accepting this.

He's such a good kid.

As you approach Charles, your smile twitches while you study him, but you say softly, "Hey, um... I... We..." Your tone sounds weak.

"Yes?" Charles asks, looking up. He looks perfect. As always.

Your eyes lock.

Please, Charles. I don't know how to say this. Please just understand.

His eyes remain blank. You let out a sigh.

And suddenly, you hug him.

Charles seems taken aback for only a moment, before he immediately hugs you back and says softly, "Hey... Want to come inside with me and Y/s/n?"

You nod. "Yes... Yes, please."

So Charles leads the two of you up to his flat. You sit down together on the couch, once again.

Last time you did this was the moment Charles cried out to you.

"Y/n, people change."

You swallow at the memory.

Is this another paradox? This time, will I be the one crying out to him?

Y/s/n is about to hop on the couch between you, but suddenly Charles scoops him up and says, "Hey, hey! I didn't get my hug from you yet, did I?!"

Your son giggles, getting comfortable on his father's lap, before giving him a big hug. "I scored a goal, Daddy..."

"You scored a goal?!" he grins. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! Mama cheered me on! I scored a goal when I played football!"

Charles looks so bright. Happy with his son. So proud. He doesn't get to see him as often as you do. "No way. You've got to be joking. Was it the winning goal?"

"Yep!" your son says proudly.

You find yourself smiling.

"Oh yeah, what was the score?"

Your son shrugs. "Dunno! But we won!"

You smile and mutter softly, "I think it was 4-1." Y/s/n plays in the little league team affiliated with his school.

"Yeah, but my goal made it 2-1, so I won it," he brags to his father.

Charles grins. "Oh, I'm sure it did. You know, I don't know where you got that talent for football from. Do you think Mama is good at football?"

Your son just shrugs with a grin, enjoying the affirmation from his father. "Dunno! But Mama is good at cuddling and playing with me."

Charles laughs. "Yeah, your mama takes good care of you." He glances at you with sparkling eyes, before looking back down at his son.

The two continue babbling on about sports and football and what not, until Charles finally ruffles his son's hair and says, "Well, buddy, I reckon it's time for me and Mama to have some alone time."

Y/s/n frowns. "Aw, why?"

"Because I want to talk with Mama about things that you won't care about. Boring grown-up stuff. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?"

Y/s/n shrugs, still looking uncertain.

"Hey, don't look so down. How about this? I'll go put on Cars for you. How's that sound?"

Your son grins at this, immediately jumping up, his demeanor changing abruptly. "Yeah, yeah!" he squeals, and you watch as Charles leaves with him to go set him up with that in another room.

But soon Charles is back. He gently shuts the door behind him as he enters the room, and immediately sits down next to you, facing you once more. "Hey, Y/n..." he says in a tentative but gentle tone.

You swallow. "Hey, Charles..." You feel yourself getting nervous again. "You're so... You're so good with Y/s/n."

He smiles. "You are, too."

There's no, And I'm sure we'd be even better with him together.

Charles meant it when he said he'd give up on it.

But you move closer to him. You take his hands. "This is a lot for me, Charles. I'm scared. I'm having issues with trust."

He nods slowly. "I know... I know..."

You swallow, and hug him again.

He holds you, hugging you back. He kisses your cheek. He whispers, "I understand if you're afraid. I understand if you're scared, or if you're having issues with trust. I'm so deeply sorry I've broken you like that."

Y/n, people change. And I can change.

The words come crashing into your mind like a ton of bricks, emerging from the depths of your memory.

"Charles-" you break in, your voice cracking. "Those words have haunted me."

"What words...?" he mutters softly.

You swallow. Breathe slowly. And you whisper, "You said to me 'Y/n, people change. And I can change.'"

"I have changed," he whispers.

"But," your voice cracks. "You said a lot of other s***, too. I remember, during our honeymoon..." A tear rolls down your face as Charles continues to hold you. "You said I'm yours and you're mine. You said we'd be forever. You said you'd do anything for me. You said we'd have three kids together, and you'd never stop loving me, and we would be a happy family. You said we'd grow old together, Charles. That's what you said. But all those promises- they were broken... They were broken."

"You didn't want them to be," he whispers calmly. "But don't you realize? Perhaps those promises were not broken, but rather, they have just not yet been fulfilled."

You look up at him, blinking. More tears roll down your cheeks. Charles gently wipes them away.

"I want to be able to fix what I did wrong. I want to be able to fulfill those promises I made to you. That's what I want, Y/n."

"Charles..." you breathe.

He looks so perfect.

"Yes?" he asks gently.

Your lip quivers, and you lean into his shoulder, and you sob.

And he lets you.

For however long, he holds you there, rubbing your back, letting you weep. Finally, you get a hold of yourself, and slowly pull away. You wipe your wet eyes with the backs of your hands, before sighing. "Charles, if we were to do this... If I were to give in..." You sniff. Your voice cracks again as you utter, "Please, don't hurt me again. I can't survive it again. I can't let you put me through that again..."

He pulls you to him again and whispers in your ear, "I won't. I won't. I won't let you down this time. Please don't be afraid of me... I want to love you... Let me love you... If you'll just let me, we can fix this... We have have a relationship in which we communicate more. Oh, Y/n..." he sighs. "Don't you realize how much I care? I- I would give my life for you."

You blink, staring at him.

Everything looks so promising. That's why you're scared.

It almost looks too promising.

"You say you would give your life for me. But would you really? Maybe you would you give your life for me if it meant losing it. But would you give your life to me while you're still alive? Would you clean the dishes? Would you help me when I'm sick? Would you grab an extra ingredient from the store if I needed it? Would you drive Y/s/n to school when you could? Would you really? You're gone half the year, as it is."

His jaw clenches, then un-clenches. "I would do anything and everything I could do for you. I want to share my life for you. Until death. And I'm one hundred percent sure on that. I've had years of thinking about this." There's hope in his lovely eyes.

So much hope.

You sigh, staring down at your lap.

"Y/n. I'm sorry. Please. Not only do I need your forgiveness. But your son does, too." He hesitates. "And I hope you know no matter what happens, the guilt of what I've done to you will weigh on me my whole life. That's why I want to fix it."

You gently slip your hand in his and whisper, "Please don't hurt me."

He wraps his fingers around your hand, holding it. "I won't."

You nod slowly, another tear rolls down your cheek, and it feels like all the molecules in your body are being ripped apart as you barely whisper, "Okay, Charles. We can try this again."

[footballfanficwriter]

International Friendly, not so Friendly

Summary:where Kylian is pissed about the game against Germany

"Maman?"

"Oui?"

"Where is papa?"

"Getting ready for his match love, that's why we need to get ready and head to the Stadium to watch him play"

Today is the first International break of the year  that means Kylian is gonna be back to Captaining the team again

"I can't find my shoe Maman"

"Here it is Babe"

"Thank you"

"You're welcome"

"Ok let's go"

Claire and I make our way out of the house and to the Garage where the car is parked

I buckle her up in her seat and we start making our way to the Stadium

When we arrive it's noisy, the sound of French people dominates the stadium, cheering and chanting the player's names as they do their warm ups

As we arrive I spot Kylian and he only notices us after 10 minutes and sends us a wave and a kiss

Claire gigles and kicks her legs that barley touch the ground  in her seat as she watches her father do what he loves

Kylian occasionally sends waves our way and the only thing they are doing is making claire more excited

The game starts a small Volkswagen car comes onto the pitch and Kai Haverts picks it up

The refs blows the whistle and Kai kicks the ball to Tony Kroos who send it to Florian Wirtz who shoots the ball and sends it hitting the back of the net

The German players Celebrate the goal

And the once dominating sound of the French has now stopped the only cheers coming from the German Supporters that only take up a small portion of the Stadium compared to the French that take up most of it

I watch Kylian's reaction and he doesn't look pleased to say the least, turning my head and looking next to me I see the once excited and giddy girl with her mouth open and eyes big, just like her father's in that very moment

"Maman what happened?"

"They scored ma cheri"

"Merde" she says

I turn with my head and looks at her with a shocked expression

"Claire who taught you that word?

"Uncle Ethan"

"I'm gonna kill him"

The game goes on and by the time it's full time Germany have won

Again the Sound of the French has now died down

Partly because some had already left in the 65th Minute when they saw how the game was going to end

The score is 0-2 and understandably all the French players want to get off the pitch as soon as possible

"Maman"

"Oui?"

"Can we go get Papa and go home now"

"Yeah let's go"

We make our way down and wait for Kylian to take his shower

After 30 minutes he comes out and gives Claire and I Hugs

"Ca va Papa?"

"Oui ca va ma cheri, je très bien" he says putting a fake smile on his face

We make our way to the car in silence, Kylian buckles Claire up and I go to the driver's seat and start the engine

The whole car ride home is silent, the tension is thick as hell, I don't want to say anything so I'll just keep quiet and focus on the road

When we get home Kylian gets out of the car, unbuckled Claire and they make their way into the house while I get that bags we went with

I enter the house and walk to Claire's room to leave her bag in her room and as I'm about to walk in i hear Claire and Kylian talking

"Why are you upset Papa?"

"We lost Claire" he says taking out some pajamas from her wardrobe

"But we'll get them next Time right?'

"Mhm, c'mon arms up so we can get you into this shirt"

Claire lifts her arms up and Kylian helps her get into her Pajamas

"Papa?"

"Oui?"

"Did you get hurt?"

"No, my love, I just need to get some ice on my foot it will be fine, c'mon teeth"

They walk to Claire's bathroom and she brushes her teeth

"Whach abut unchle TchTch, ish he gonna be fun?"

"What?"

Claire spits her toothpaste out and says

"I said what about uncle Tchou-Tchou is he gonna be fine?, he looked really hurt during the game"

"I don't know, but I hope he is, we need him for Tuesday's game"

"Yeah"

"Ok Bug, bedtime now, c'mon"

Kylian Carries Claire to her bed and tucks her in

"Bonne nuit papa"

"Bonne nuit ma cherie"

"Je'taime"

"Je t'aime aussi"

He closes her door and finds me standing in the passage

I don't say anything to him but I come in for a hug and he lays his head on my shoulder and sights

"Merde" he says

I slightly chuckle a bit and he looks at me and asks what

"Your daughter said the exact same thing when I told her they scored"

"Where did she learn that from?"

"Ton Fére" ( your Brother)

He laughs and we walk to our room and get ready for bed

The next day I'm woken up with my Daughter barging into the room and her hair all over the place

"Claire, tu veux quoi"( what do you want)

"Je veut mon pere"( I want my father)

"Kylian,  C'est ta Fille, Elle veut toi" I say (you Daughter wants you)

He wakes up and looks at Claire who's stood at the end of the bed

"Hello Bug, what can I help you with?"

"I made something for you" she says using her shy voice

"Ok let's see it"

She hands Kylian the card  she made him filled with a whole lot of glitter

She drew a picture of Kylian kicking a ball and scoring a goal

"I saw how upset you were yesterday so I made you a card to show you that next time you can do it pasque t'es mon pére"(because you're my dad)

Kylian smiles, gives her a hug and kiss on her forehead

"Where did you find the time to make this love?" I ask

"I stayed up all night"

"What Claire?"

"C'mon"

We walk into Claire's room and see papers and glitter everywhere

"Merde alors" I say ( Holy sh*t)

"Mon deiu" Kylian says ( My God)

"Claire, how did this room get like this?"

"I was making Papa's card and I thought if I'm making a card for Papa then Maman will feel left out and she'll feel bad and think I don't love her and don't want you to...

"Breath Honey" I tell her because she was rambling without taking breaths

She takes a deep breath and continues talking

"I don't want you to feel bad or think that I don't love you so I made you a card aswell, here" she says

She walks to one of her drawers and pulls out a blue card

"I made it in your favorite color so you'll like it more"

I take the card and look at the picture that Is drawn

It's a picture of me and Claire

"Aww, amore merci, c'est tres beau" ( love thank you, it's so beautiful)

"De rein Maman" ( you're welcome Mom)

"Now we need to get you to sleep because you're gonna be cranky the whole day if not"

I help her out of her pajamas since they have glitter glue on them and need to be washed, I then give her one of my shirts to wear and the stupid child starts imitating me, making Kylian laugh as he watches Claire being funny

I chuckle and say  "Go sleep in my room Claire"

"Ok, j'taime Maman"

"Je t'aime aussi ma cherie"

She walks to my room and climbs on the bed

"Get the brooms" I tell Kylian

"What why me?"

"It's your fault she did this in the first place"

While we're cleaning the room Kylian speaks up

"You know we're actually lucky to have her as our Daughter"

"Yeah we are, she really is an Angel "

"Well most of the time"

"We've birthed a Comedian"

"That's definitely true, can you imagine how she's gonna be when she's older?"

"Oh God please, don't say that, I can already see it"

He laughs and gets back to sweeping the Glitter the floor

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 2 - like a | art major ellie x dance major reader

first chapter | next chapter

ao3

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you

18+ MDNI | 3.7k words | tags; college au, pining, still sfw for now, texting, no use of y/n, not proofread

a/n: if you're not imagining the prof as nick offerman you're not doing it right.

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The song finally ends and all the other dancers in the studio scatter, just as breathless and exhausted as you are, leaving the room reeking with sweat and the remnants of unbridled passion.

You try to steady your breathing, leaning forward with a hand bracing your thigh, fanning yourself off by pulling at the collar of your tee. Today’s practice was more exerting than usual, especially since you were the one leading it. 

You might’ve showed off a little because you overheard some of your classmates undermining your talent; claiming they could do your own choreo better than you can. It wasn’t like what they said bothered you, however, you needed to set the record straight.  

You’ve always been an amazing dancer, you have the awards, the scholarships to prove it. You’ve scraped your knees bloody to get to this point in your life. You weren’t gonna let a few shit talkers ruin a great thing. So, yeah, you’re absolutely winded because you wanted to prove a point, but you don’t regret a second of it. The looks on their faces was enough to clear any doubts for the rest of the year, for sure.

You drag your feet over to your stuff huddled in a corner, dodging past everyone else in a rush to leave. You pick up your water flask, taking a much needed chug. Mid-drink, you hear the doors of the now empty studio swing open and you swivel around only to see Dina in her black leotard, clutching her bag on her shoulder as she jogs towards you with a suspiciously wide smile.

“Hey, D. You don’t look like you want anything at all.” You say sarcastically, scoffing as you set your bottle down. 

“Oh, come on! I can’t see my best friend?” Dina asks, resting her hands on her hips. All you can do is stare at her with an unmoving expression of doubt, folding your arms with a perked brow. 

“My best-est friend in the whole world. Ever.” Dina adds on. 

You don’t think Dina could make it any more obvious so you decided to wrap it up yourself. “Dina, what is it? I swear to god if you say Jesse…” 

The expression on Dina’s face pointed in every direction that it’d be about him. You groan, amazed that you’re having this conversation again. She’s been pestering you for weeks now about meeting this “amazing” guy she’s been recently dating. She insisted that he’d be like another gal pal, but obviously you doubted that. You’re sure he’s as great as Dina says, but you find it awkward to meet him like that anyways. 

“Just hear me out!” Dina practically begs, clasping her hands together and everything.

“Dina— I love you, but I don’t wanna be a third wheel for an hour.”

Her wide grin returns, looking oddly ecstatic to hear you bring that up. “Okay, well, what if I told you that you won’t?”

You already told yourself you made up your mind the minute this conversation started, but you gesture for her to continue anyway.

Dina’s face lights up as she goes on, “Jesse’s going to bring his friend too, then it’ll be the four of us!” 

You’re not sure how to feel, it does cancel out the one annoyance you had, but now it sounds like a straight double date. The thought alone makes you cringe a bit. 

Dina can tell, rolling her eyes before speaking, “His friend’s a girl, and she’s cool.” 

You just silently make out an ‘oh’ and Dina snorts at your expression. Well, now there’s nothing keeping you from going, but you don’t feel like letting Dina have this one that easily, so you intensely rub your chin as if there’s something else to be considered.

“I’ll buy you food! Cinnamon rolls!” Dina exclaims with a hint of desperation. You giggle and stop the act, finally giving Dina a smile and a nod. She’s already pulling you in for a sappy hug and you return it with an eye roll, making sure she doesn’t go too crazy now that she’s finally convinced you.

“So, when are we doing that?” You ask.

“Today. You're so sweaty, gross.”

“Rude— Today?!”

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After a nice shower and a trip to a small on-campus bakery, it was time to go meet Jesse and his friend with Dina. Just to make conversation, you tell Dina about your embarrassing encounter last night as you two walk around campus. 

“You mooned a stranger?! Listen, when I said you should hook up with someone while I was gone, I meant through a party or an app. Not the window!” Dina exclaims, not even attempting to hide the amusement in her voice. 

Honestly, you were amused by the situation too, it was hard not to be. “Shhh… I didn’t moon her, she just happened to be there. Plus, my ass was mostly covered.” You reply with a playful grin before biting into your promised cinnamon roll. You didn’t really have anything to be embarrassed about, either way it’s an emotion you deal with often. First of all, you’re a dancer; you’ve tripped during a routine before, danced a few humiliating moves. It’s a part of the process. Second of all, your ass is fucking great and we’re ending on that note. 

Dina tsks and shakes her head at you in pretend disappointment. Unable to take her seriously, you dissolve into laughter. 

You two walk across the courtyard and into the school commons; a tall and open building, with the walls of it being large windows. For the time of day, it wasn’t that busy. You decide to scope out the small crowd, and play a little game with yourself to see if you can find out who Dina’s man is before she tells you. 

Not him. Definitely not him. Maybe him? Nah. Who is that?

“Over there!” Dina taps your shoulder excitedly and points in the distance, but you were already looking that way. 

There was a girl, maybe an inch taller than you in a black, patch-covered varsity jacket that definitely didn’t fit her, facing a taller guy that looked exactly like Dina’s type. You weren’t positive why you were drawn that direction, all you knew was that there was something vaguely familiar about that girl. You tried to put the pieces together, but you gave up not even two thoughts later; shrugging it off. 

The guy looks towards you and Dina, smiling brightly as he beckons you two over. Dina links arms with you and drags you along before you can even acknowledge it. As you two start approaching, the mystery girl finally turns around and offers a small smile to Dina, only for it to drop the second she lays eyes on you. 

Your eyes lock on hers and you’re absolutely mortified. It was definitely that girl. Y’know, the one you saw through your window? That girl. Even if you didn’t see her all that well last night, the struck look on her face gave her away. This funny situation was getting less and less fucking funny as you and Dina stride closer. The panic starts to override your sensory abilities, the unusual feeling etching into your thoughts. Maybe you should just own it? Pretend you don’t remember? Should you run away? You think you should—

“— meet Jesse!” Dina says, looking at you expectantly. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice you stopped walking. Now the girl is way closer than she was last night. You could keel over and die now, really. 

It’s not like you’ll see her again. You wish you could turn back time and slap yourself for jinxing you like that. You glimpse up at her, and, fuck, she was looking back at you. You guys needed to stop doing that. Even worse, she’s just as hot as you were hoping she wasn’t. The hair, the outfit, the decorated carabiner hanging off the loop of her jeans? She’s a fucking lesbian wet dream. 

You whip your head away, and unbeknownst to you, she’s still staring; gawking, even.

For Ellie, ever since you walked up, all that’s been going through her head was, ’I wanna draw her’ over and over again. Seeing you up close was even better than she could’ve ever imagined. Your… everything was better than she imagined. She initially locked eyes on you when you were still passing the courtyard and she was in awe of that smile of yours. She was obsessed with how you laughed, how you threw your head back as you did. For a moment, she wondered what was funny. For a moment, she thought about what she’d give to hear it. She had to look away and face Jesse so her whole body didn’t turn red from just watching you. 

She only understood the gravity of the situation when you finally approached. What were the chances you were Dina’s friend? You were really in front of her now, an arm distance away. She has literally never been happier to go out before. She was genuinely glad Jesse dragged her out here for once. 

For as long as she could, she admired you; already color-matching the shade of your skin, your eyes. Appreciating the plumpness of your lips, how expertly your gloss spread across them. She wants to appreciate more of you, but from the way you looked away from her, she worries you might think she’s a pervert and honestly, you’d be well within your rights to think so.

Ellie catches her stare, dipping her attention onto her feet instead. You catch the sheepish action in the corner of your eye and it automatically tells you everything you need to know. If she hadn’t seen anything, she wouldn’t be acting like that, right? Let alone remember you. You wish you weren’t agonizing over this, catching these little traits was only making things worse. 

It’s painful; the situation. The whole thing didn’t even cross your mind until recently. You can’t make eye contact with anyone in front of you anymore, so you nervously say hello along with your name while looking out of one of the several windows. 

Dina forces a smile, since she already introduced you herself, giving you a quick ‘what the fuck’ look on her face before turning back to Jesse who still hasn’t caught a whiff of the tension. Your behavior was incomprehensible. You’ve never acted this way around new people. The whole reason Dina begged you to come was because you were so personable, so you can only imagine her confusion now.

Jesse and Dina exchange looks before Dina attempts to continue the convo. “So, Ellie, what’s your major again?” Ellie. Now the (extremely good-looking) face has a name, great.

“Uh, drawing. Art.” Ellie says, awkwardly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes darted everywhere but you. You were making it awkward, she was making it awkward, and all for different reasons. 

Dina nods along to Ellie before saying, “Oh, really? Didn’t think you guys left your rooms.” Dina teases, slow-turning to Jesse who already has a fist bump waiting for her. 

Ellie shakes her head with half a smile. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Yeah, I guess I needed some sunlight.” 

“Yeah, right. I had to bribe you out with a DC comic.” Jesse chirps in, his tone taking a dramatically repulsed turn. 

Ellie immediately punches him in the arm, “You haven’t even read the comics, asshole.” 

Jesse’s hand shoots up to soothe the spot as he laughs.

“Well… I think DC is better than Marvel if you ignore the movies.” You spit out and Jesse and Dina are immediately groaning at your comment. The only reason you said anything was because you felt inclined to take Ellie’s side since they were ganging up on her. Not to mention you might’ve traumatized her, so you might as well attempt to make buddy-buddy. You weren’t lying though, you read enough comics in middle school to know; even if your appearance and style might’ve indicated otherwise.

Ellie teeters at the side, not expecting you to speak at all, let alone take her side. She didn’t think she deserved to hear you speak more than she has already, but here you were, making her blush over a silly shared interest.

Ellie stuffs her hands into her jacket’s pockets, twisting her lips before gaining the courage to speak to you. “That’s because it is. They haven’t read Sandman yet.” 

“Oh, shit. Sandman was really good! Death was definitely my gay awakening now that I’m thinking about it.” You respond, glancing off as you dwell back on it.

Ellie definitely blacked out for a moment after hearing “gay” and “awakening” leave your mouth in the same sentence. Now there’s a part of her wondering if she has a chance with you.

She doesn’t say anything, she can’t say anything since she doesn’t trust her voice. You can’t tell if she’s super awkward or homophobic, but she doesn’t look like the latter. She just gulps loudly and you take note of… this whole interaction and store it in your brain for a later date, like a sleepless night.

With the sudden silence befalling, you both look over to see that Dina and Jesse are still passionately ranting and raving about how trash DC is, so passionately they look like they might kiss about it. Like, their faces are inches away from each other. You and Ellie are absolutely baffled at how this is even possible. They’re talking about superheroes. Superheroes! The sight makes you wanna hurl. You scowl and look elsewhere, catching Ellie grimacing in the process. 

Her brows are furrowed, lip upturned, and her nose is slightly scrunched up to the point where she kinda resembles a squirrel. You snort to yourself at the comparison. Okay, she’s adorable, so it took everything in you to contain your laughter. Obviously, you did a poor job since Jesse and Dina turn to your stifled giggling, following your eyes to see a plainly disgusted Ellie judging them. 

They get flustered, shyly laughing it off while Ellie pretends to scold them. “Welcome back. Now cut it out.”

Ellie turns to you with a surprisingly bewitching smile that catches you way off guard, and mouths out ‘gross’ while stealing a glance at the couple. 

“Pfft, I think it might be time to change topics.” You say, biting back the smile forming on your lips. Ellie is unintentionally endearing, you can tell because, well, she’s growing on you. Maybe you’ve been overthinking the whole thing? From the looks of it, she might’ve just needed to warm up to you. You like that conclusion much more than anything else. Anything else being a possibly unflattering angle of your ass cheeks.

Dina chuckles before nodding, “Okay, well,” Dina puts a hand on your shoulder and looks between Jesse and Ellie, “She’s a dance major too. The trendy kind.” 

“Trendy kind?” Ellie asks, focusing on you as she waits for an answer.

You roll your eyes at Dina for the silly description and fixate back on Ellie, finding yourself unusually nervous under her stare. “I’m focusing on commercial dance choreography. For singers, concerts, things like that.”

“She also did ballet for ages.” Dina chimes in. You nod reluctantly, since it was a long time ago, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t still use those skills. 

“Oh, that explains it.” Ellie says, looking directly at you, clearly without a thought. She doesn’t mean anything bad by it, it just explains why she was weirdly infatuated with your back; your posture. Either way, that was supposed to stay in her head and not for you to hear.

You raise a brow, barely tilting your head to the side as you ask, “Explains what?”  

You hold your eye contact with Ellie this time, silently waiting for an answer. 

“Oh— err—“ Ellie stammers. She has no idea how to save herself. Even if she did, she doesn’t think she’d be able to say it when you’re looking at her like that. Looking up at her quizzically, slightly pouting out your full bottom lip. You’re a bit intimidating, you’ve always been a bit intimidating to everyone. However, Ellie finds herself oddly attracted at the same time and it’s really fucking with her brain. You aren’t even trying to be threatening though, you only want to know what she thinks of you. For no particular reason. 

Ellie, flustered beyond comprehension, can only shrug and manage out, “Uh, nothing? I guess, um, that’s how you two met?” 

You calm your expression, afraid Ellie might melt if you put any more heat on her and for the record, she would’ve, but not for what you think. You couldn’t read her at all and it made you wanna rip your hair out. 

You end up giving her a small nod while a trace of curiosity lingers on your face. 

Coincidentally, Ellie can’t read you either. Do you know she was the one “creeping” on you last night? If you don’t, then maybe all hope isn’t lost for her. But, of course, she can’t fucking tell. One second you’re looking at her like she’s a ghost, the next you’re giggling at all her jokes. But she’s not an idiot, she knows that as long as she doesn’t completely scare you off; she can complete her final. The only question from here is if she’ll ever gain the courage to ask you. 

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The answer to that is no. No, no, no. You’ve been integrated into Ellie’s life for weeks now. Although it hasn’t been daily you always show up at least twice a week, over three when she’s lucky. It’s been weeks and she still can’t ask you. 

In her defense, you guys are never alone. You haven’t even walked by Ellie since the dance wing and art wing are nowhere near each other. You’re always with Dina, she’s always with Jesse. All four of you occasionally meet up for lunch, or spot each other at student events and parties. Never just you and her. Ellie has tried to rehearse just asking you casually with Dina and Jesse around, but that sounds like a fuckin’ humiliation ritual. Imagining you saying “ew, no” or bringing up how she was ogling you through your window in front of them. 

It’s not like you’ve been giving her the impression that you would. It’s actually far from that. You’re a walking ray of sunshine. You always, and I mean, always say hi to her first. Ellie might be a little nuts, considering it’s only between her and Jesse, but she swears you do. Sometimes, you even avoid him to get to her first and she thinks it’s the cutest damn thing ever, but as far as she knows, that’s just her imagination playing a sick prank on her delusion.

Good news is that her work has improved since she still gets to see you often. She steals glances at you, taking mental pictures of you whenever she can. If someone told her to draw you eating a damn french fry, she’d be able to do it perfectly. 

Her professor leaves less marks on her work than usual, and with finals rapidly approaching, Ellie thinks this is the best she’ll ever be able to do. It’s way better than before and the chances of you modeling for her are slim to none, so she’s trying to convince herself she’s perfectly fine with wrapping it up here. Acting like it doesn’t eat away at her to not be able to draw your full body, all its perfections and imperfections. 

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You’re chatting with some friends as you gather your stuff up to leave, when your professor calls out your name. Your head shoots up in that direction and you quickly excuse yourself as you walk over to a scruffy looking older man shuffling around paperwork.

“Yes?” You stand neutrally at his desk, completely unaware of what he has to say to you. 

“You’re failing. Failing horrendously,” He shifts in his seat to look at you better, “You know you are human right? You labeled the rectus femoris the tibialis anterior for fuck’s sake.” 

The… what? You had absolutely no idea you were failing and no idea what he was saying. Yeah, you spent zero time studying, but it’s human anatomy. It’s just a stupid mandatory course. The classes with actual dancing are what you put your time and effort into. What type of asshole teaches a science course at an arts school, then fails the students? Whatever.

You bite your tongue before speaking, forcing a faint smile. “Oh, well, can I make up the grade…?”

The man pinches the bridge of his nose before pulling out your paper from the stack and in front of you. “You’re not understanding, out of 640 muscles in the human body you got one correct. The pectoralis major.”

Honestly, you have no words. Seeing the paper in front of you was pretty humbling. 

He laces his fingers as he continues to gruffly speak, “I don’t know if it’s because you’re gay or something and the only thing you can identify are boobs, but this is an easy grade. You had to get at least 200 correct to pass.”

Did he just? Your jaw dropped ages ago, and you start to say something but he immediately cuts you off. “I don’t wanna hear it, take your paper. Study, and I’ll let you retake it. Do not make me have to fail you.” 

You purse your lips, conflicted with how he called you out and how he’s giving you a redo. You just snatch the paper and storm out of the classroom. 

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dina: LMFAOOO

you: its not fucking funny

dina: is it becus ur gay or something

you: STFU!!!!

you: what do i do ffs

you: finals week is coming up soon and im stupid

dina: you shouldve taken the course with me last semester

you: help me study

dina: foh i barely passed 

you: 😭😭😭im so screwed 

dina: no ur not

dina: don’t worry

dina: ask ellie 

Ask Ellie? Your thumbs shake over your screen. How could you ask Ellie? The amount of strength it takes to talk to her in real life without turning into putty is insane. You guys don’t even cross paths enough for you to comfortably ask for a favor, but you really need to pass this class. It definitely wouldn’t be the worst to finally talk to her one on one... hang out with her more… see her more… Fuck it.

you: what’s her number?

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what's this? click!

tag list: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee

a/n: marvel solos but i think ellie would love dc

[fillinforlater]

Monday of Appreciation: Part 101

Hello everyone, Smite here!

2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY of Monday of Appreciation!

My first MoA post was posted on the 20th of September 2021, two years. Time really flies, huh? I don't want this to be just another MoA 100 post, but I really gotta thank you all, especially because Part 100 received so much love, God, it made me so happy <3 It was a kinda cathartic moment, the series had an epic peak... all thanks to you.

I definitely also want to thank all the writers, without whom this all wouldn't exist. My way of thanking you all is by... featuring a FUCKTON of stories below. Even if you are not featured (first of all, I'm sorry lol), I still appreciate your work and comradery in the bunker. Y'all are amazing <3

LET'S GET TO IT!!!

No. 1: @dnd-writes: Way of Water ft. Eunbi

Ah yes, Waterbomb Eunbi. The event that captured us all. The idea with the backup dancer is straight forward, nice, but the greatest thing about this is the watersports. Waterbomb, watersports... you get it? Just read it.

No.2: @leafostuff: No Names Needed ft. Sheon (Billlie)

Thanks to Leafo for spreading the good word of Sheon and her... goddamn midriff. No more reasons needed, appreciate this girl already, ugh.

No. 3: @iznsfw: The Devil's Telephone ft. Yujin

Everything IZ touches skips the part where it turns to gold. Fuck gold, IZ just creates diamondtic-masterpieces. I was thrilled to learn about this fic and when I read it... IZ did it again! This portrayal of Yujin is everything. What are we to your might!

No. 4: @idyllicidols: Cheat Day ft. Wonyoung

Wonyoung gangbang with her fans? I bet you all are already foaming at your mouth. Go on. Read it. Leave some love for this talented writer after getting your loads off the screen.

No. 5: @rvp32: Whisper of Uncontrollable Desire ft. Chaewon

Let me tell you, rvp is great! They don't hold back, they go all out, they try A/B/O, they like futa (please write futa!) and they have a Gaeul series. This one fucking sent me <3

No. 6: @existslikepristin: Not Summer Yet ft. Jeongyeon

Thx ELP for the nice message on Part 100! Thanks also for giving us these crazy pieces again and again (well, this one isn't too crazy for your standards, but you get me). This felt really intimate, liked it!

No. 7: @dreamcatchers-husband: The City of Love and Secrets ft. Sejeong

You better learn French for this fic. But fr, now I wanna go to Paris and marry a beautiful girl before :floshed: filling her up because she truly is mine now ahhhhh

No. 8: @capslocked: SERENDIPITY ft. Eunbi

Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, what am I gonna do with you? Your fics are ALWAYS in my to read list and when I get to them... yeah, takes more than one attempt... more like five. Fuck you, I love you.

No. 9: @ggidolsmuts: Sin, Hormones and the Starlet's Boyfriend ft. Yunjin, Somi

HOLY FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK, that was so FUCKING hot, I caaaaan't stop meeeeee, this is so good, I need more of this. Yeah, basically every ddeun fic makes me go like this. What a fucking legend, man.

No. 10: @smuttysabina: A Pervert Bred by Perverts only Breeds more Perverts ft. E:U (Everglow)

As you can see, the title is quite elaborate on what happens in this fic. A bunch of perverts, a lot (and I do mean a LOT) of cum to breed and in the end everyone is happy. You too, you filthy pervert?

No. 11: @writingsomesin-amber: Puppies' New Toy Part 3 ft. LSFM, Xiaoting

FUTA, the best kind of futa. The one with Alphas, with Kazuha (who always has a HUGE cock), with boundless sex that's just horny nonsense. This is what I want to read. Thank you for writing it!

No. 12: @co-reborn: [PPV] BG SEX PERFECT PINK HAIR KOREAN COLLEGE GIRL RIDES AND GETS CREAMPIED - Full Ver ($30).mp4 ft. Jiheon

This is a sequel to probably the best porn focused smut to ever exist. Thank you, c.o, for creating this, for making it a universe and for dropping another Jiheon smut. She hot, you hot <3

No. 13: @pfxhk: Staircase: Prepotent Pleasure ft. Yuqi

Kaaajin <3 finally another Yuqi fic and a very good one at that. I want her hot lips wrapped around me too now.

No. 14: @rosiesmuts: After Dark ft. Rose

Rose little fuck doll. Her pics lately have been mind-fucking or sth like that, I dunno, just sex. Oh, and I know a lot of good things happen late at night.

No. 15: @akkaweo-akkaweo: Treatment ft. Jinsoul

That's the treatment wr allll want from our dear Jinsoul. Her gorgeous visuals have really stunned me since she joined Modhaus. Now paint that pretty face.

No. 16: @mode-lfy: Jinni (SMUT) ft. Jinni (ex-NMIXX)

Sooooo... when does Jinni unzip my pants, first thing in the morning finally come back?

Edit: SHE ACTUALLY IS?!?! LFG!

No. 17: @worldsover: link in bio top 0.1% creator ft. Jiheon

This one is the follow-up to c.o's [PVV], so we got a whole-ass universe with pornstar!Jiheon now. What a blessing, and it leaves us with no doubt that Jihron would reach that 0.1% if she'd show her cute face and bubble butt on cam... when tho???

No. 18: @allthekingssmut: She's Rough And Coarse And Gets Everywhere ft. Heejin

Star Wars is already a win in my book, pair it with hotness everywhere (the sun, a mechanic, her face) and it only gets better and better. The release to all the fucking tension between those two is EPIC. Great fic!

No. 19: @writerpeach: Overindulgent ft. Wonyoung

To say I have over-indluged in this fic would be a massive understatement. When Peach let's loose and pours out tens of thousands of words of unpure smut, we know we got ourselves a massive hit, no matter the idol. To make it even better, Wonyoung.

No. 20: @okaylikesmomo: Kampfyre Part 1 - Vocals ft. Winter

Just one word: vocal training. Wait, that is two words! So Imma a need okay to write a second part to this, because Winter has not been trained enough (imo).

No. 21: @pupyuj: Magic Words ft. Wonyoung (fem!reader)

More love to female reader fics! Especially thise one, with this sweet and spicy Wony that makes girls' legs weak and mine too xD Thank you for this great story and hot smut!

No. 22: @usedpidemo: Parasailing ft. Yuri, Minju

This story feels so nostalgic, so oddly familiar. Like I was there throughout it all and feel entitled to the release at the end. This fic has me gliding, high on their two perfect bodies.

No. 23: @summersault31: Concerto Pt. 1 ft. IU

Blowjobs under the table while tempting another woman into your sinful lifestyle... this combines a clichee with a hook that has you begging: Summer, where is Part 2?

No. 24: @midnightdancingsol: I swear, the Bear Poked Me! ft. futa!Minji x Danielle

Now for the futa appreciation. I think Sol is perfect for this, especially because the mere thought of Minji fucking Dani with her... HUGE COCK... so big and... were was I? Oh yeah, Hanni is also in this.

No. 25: @maemisnippets: You're Mine, Cheeks ft. Chaehyun (fluff)

In between 29 smuts, there is this one short fluff by our dear Maems. Well deserved, I must say. Keep it up, qt, always fun bits to read.

No. 26: @mintwithchoco: [CYMX-461] ft. Choerry, Jinsoul

Monopoly can be so much fun, if you are willing to strike some questionable deals to further your chances of winning and everyone's chances to have a good time. Bathtub sex?

No. 27: @nichuuu: Where our blue is ft. Rei

A beautiful story, it truly made me fall in love with Rei, her strive and determination, her failure, her rise---and the insane, drawn-out fucking at the end. Where our blue is has it all and I have to congratulate @nichuuu: In between all these great writers, this story really stuck out to me!

No. 28: @svndaysaweek: Niche ft. Hanni

Cute little Hanni in need of her step-brother, because she is so deeply in love with him... this was so adorable and sweet at the start and then went into an excessive smut part that fried my brain.

No. 29: @sinswithpleasure: You Can Watch, But You Can't Touch [At Least, Not Yet] ft. Mina, Sana, Momo

I. Would. Not. Last. There is no shame in me saying this, but I just couldn't, with these three hotties right in front of me. Blast it all over their bodies, hng.

No. 30: @xiakato: Ella Baila Sola ft. Xiaoting

Hm, maybe Xiaoting should dance alone, I'm not really good at it though my Just Dance scores would beg to differ.

Hey, if you read all of that, you're fucking awesome. I appreciate you, and hope, you have a great week ahead. Until the next MoA, goodbye!

[milaisreading]

Kisses and hugs do make a difference

Warnings: Reader uses she/her, but since she is crossdressing, guys refer to her as he/him. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

"(Y/n), why are you crying?" The 4 years old girl hiccups and looked up at her mom who was sending a sympathetic smile.

"I was playing with the football dad got me and fell down. Now my knee hurts." The girl started sobbing again as the older woman laughed a little and got on (Y/n) level to inspect her knee. It was red, but no scratches or anything.

"It hurts a lot?" The woman asked softly as the girl nodded her head.

"Here, I will teach you how to make all your boo-boos stop hurting." Hearing her mom's words, (Y/n) wiped the tears away and blinked up at her.

"How?"

"A kiss on the spot makes all the pain go away." The woman said soothingly and kissed the bruised knee.

"Huh...." (Y/n) looked curiously at her knee and then up at her mom.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Actually, no... Do kisses really help?!" The girl looked excitedly at her mom, who nodded her head while laughing.

"Of course. And hugs help when you feel down. Remember that, ok?"

"Ok, mom!" The woman smiled down at her while patting her head.

"Now, come inside. I made you some cookies."

Dream ends

Gasping, (Y/n) quickly sat up in her bed and looked around the room, trying to adjust to the darkness.

"Mom... dad..." She muttered as she looked around, only for her eyes to land on Kaiser and Ness, who were sound asleep. Her excitement soon diminished as she realized where she was.

'Oh...yeah, they are gone.' She bit her lower lip and looked at the digital clock next to her bed.

'It's just 2 in the morning as well.' (Y/n) let out a small sigh and laid down on her bed, trying to fall asleep again.

The next day was pretty much uneventful, with Noa and the other senior players in Bastard helping them practice, and Kaiser trying to force (Y/n) to assist him, which was something she kept ignoring. While practicing with Raichi and Kiyora, one of the staff members called out for her to stop her practicing for an emergency. With Noa's permission, the girl left the field and followed after the staff member, wondering what was going on.

"Did something happen? What is the emergency?" (Y/n) asked in worry as the man let out an exhausted sigh and rubbed his temples.

"There is something going on at the French stratum." (Y/n) felt a small spark of anxiety in her system at the mention of it. Did someone from the Blue Lock team get hurt?

"What...what happened?" She asked in worry as the man shook his head and told her to follow him.

All the anxiety she felt diminished the moment she entered the training field, and frustration taking over when she noticed Rin and Shidou yelling at each other.

'Did they seriously injure each other?!' She thought, her irritation rising as she noticed the bruises on their faces.

"Hi there, (Y/n)!" Charles cheered as he ran up to her, hugging her from behind.

"Hi." She said back and walked over to where Shidou and Rin were. Loki was the first one to notice the two, and besides the frustration he felt towards the two, he also felt frustrated at Charles' behavior.

"Charles, get off of (Y/n)!" Loki yelled at the boy, who shook his head.

"Rin,Shidou." The two stopped their arguing and their anger slowly turning into panic as they looked at (Y/n). The said girl looked eerily calm as a smile decorated her face.

"Well, they are dead." Karasu chuckled as Tokimitsu hid behind him.

Once (Y/n) had finished berating the two, both her and Loki took it upon themselves to patch up the bruises. Thankfully it was nothing too serious.

"Can't you be serious for once? Especially since Blue Lock is televised." The girl asked Shidou as she fished for a bandage in the kit. The blonde just rolled his eyes at her behavior then smirked.

"You are quite cute when you get mad. I might keep up the act." Shidou snickered as (Y/n) blushed a little, but ignored him.

"There..." She muttered, looking at the bandaged cheek. The girl looked at it for a while, her eyes softening as she remembered the dream.

'Mom...' She thought, kissing Shidou's cheek. The said boy jumped a little as he looked at (Y/n) in shock and a flustered face. Loki's mouth was agape as he held Rin back from attacking Shidou.

"Not fair! What about me?!" Karasu whined as Tokimitsu played with the hem of his shirt.

"I want a kiss as well." Tokimitsu muttered as Charles was eerily quiet.

"What the hell?" Shidou muttered as he touched the spot (Y/n) kissed, while the girl woke up from her thoughts, looking at the rest in confusion.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, don't worry- DID YOU JUST BITE ME, RIN?!" Loki yelled, struggling to hold the younger Itoshi back.

The next day was fairly normal, with Kaiser and Isagi bickering while Ness tried to get a rise put of (Y/n), in which he was failing since she didn't pay much attention to him. The dream was still haunting her.

'I wish I had more time to spend with them...' She lazily took a bite of her food when a flinch caught her attention.

"Huh? Kurona, are you alright?" Both her and Yukimiya looked at the boy as he rubbed his head, wincing while nodding his head.

"Yeah, I just wasn't paying attention and a football hit my head." (Y/n) blinked as she got up from her spot and walked over to him, inspecting his head for a moment.

"It just looks a little bruised, as far as I can tell." (Y/n) hummed as the boy nodded his head.

"Probably, I just feel a slight ache." She looked at the spot Kurona was pointing at previously, her eyes softening again.

'A kiss makes the pain go away, as mom said.' She thought, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on the boy's head. Kurona gasped a little as a red blush spread across his face while the rest stopped what they were doing to look at them. Ness had fainted from the shock as Kaiser looked at her like a kicked puppy. Isagi, Hiori,and Yukimiya pulled Kurona to the side with the fakest smiles to 'talk'. Meanwhile Kunigami and and Gagamaru each gave her a napkin to wipe jer mouth away.

"Huh?" She looked at the duo in confusion, finally getting out of her trance.

"Hmm..." a figure from behind the door mumbled while watching the chaos.

"Is everything alright, Chigiri?" (Y/n) wondered as she kicked the ball towards the sprinter, who just sighed and shook his head.

"No... I have been feeling down ever since this whole Neo-Egoist thing started." The redhead admitted.

"Really? Why? You are doing great so far." (Y/n) gave out a small praise as the boy blushed.

"It's just, the more time passes the more I am aware what my limits are."

"Still on the injury?" (Y/n) asked as the redhead nodded his head.

"It will be alright, Chigiri. You came so far thanks to your willpower and strength." The redhead felt his heart beat increase as she said that and pulled him into a short hug.

'A hug makes the sadness go away...'

Chigiri stood there frozen for a moment, until he hugged the girl back.

"Unfair! You never hugged us, (Y/n)!"

"I feel sad too!!" Came Reo and Nagi's protests.

Over the course of the week the other players finally understood what (Y/n) was doing and they tried to either get hurt, or pretend to be sad. They just wanted a hug or a kiss from the captain.

"(Y/nnnn) I fell on my knee! It hurts. A kiss and bandages might help."

"Huh? Sure, Karasu."

"(Y/n), I kind of feel sad today because someone age my breakfast. Can I get a hug?"

"Of course Gagamaru!"

"(Y/n), I cut my finger on my paper earlier. Can you kiss it to make the pain go away?"

"Uhm.. sure, Yukimiya. But we need to disinfect it as well."

"(Y/n)! I fell on my head! Kiss it better!"

"Again, Bachira?"

"Lukewarm, give me a hug. I saw my brother on TV again."

"Hmmm sure. But you should really talk to him soon."

"I really feel anxious because of our match tomorrow. Can I get a hug?"

"Of course, Tokimitsu!"

"(Y/n)! Hug me! I just saw a mosquito!"

"Sure thing, Isagi."

"Can you kiss my cheek better? Miroku kicked a ball into it by accident."

"That looks really swollen, Otoya. Sure I will, but we need to get you an ice pack."

"...."

"Do you want a hug, Kunigami? You look really down?"

"Please."

"(Y/n)... I had to talk to my parents today..."

"Do you want to talk about it, Hiori?"

"Can you hug me while we talk?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"Are you sad, again?"

"I just want to sleep while hugging something."

"Then go do that, Nagi. We have today off."

"Sure!"

"..."

"Nagi, I didn't mean to hug me."

"Instructions were unclear. Mission successful."

"(Y/n), I fell on my nose. Can you kiss it better?"

"Sure thing, Niko."

"Your fabulous friend is feeling sad today. Come and cuddle with me."

"Ok, Aryu!"

"..."

"...."

"Barou, do you want a hug-"

"Yes!"

"There. Does your hand feel better now, Reo?"

"It feel a little better. Just give it a kiss and it will be good as new."

All the while a certain French player was observing the attention everyone got from Blue Lock's midfielder, and he decided that enough was enough. He deserved his hug and kiss more than anyone, so he came up with a plan.

"You want me to what?" Loki asked in disbelief as Charles forced the football into his hands.

"Please. Please. Please. I swear, I will leave (Y/n) alone for a a whole week if you do this for me! Please!" The boy begged and begged until Loki sighed and finally gave in.

"Please, just don't freak him out. He is my closest friend in this place."

"Of course I won't!" Charles grinned.

And that's what got him here. (Y/n) holding an ice pack to his forehead as the boy held back a grin.

"And you say Loki accidentally kicked the ball to your forehead?" (Y/n) asked again, finding it hard to believe a prodigy like Loki would miss this bad.

"Yeah. I wanted to try a head shot and failed. Anyway, will you give my forehead a kiss now?" Charles quickly changed the subject as (Y/n) looked at him weirdly.

"You want one?"

"Of course!"

The girl sighed in defeat and nodded her head.

"Fine." She sighed and finally removed the ice pack, giving a short kiss to Charles' forehead. The boy sighed in bliss as (Y/n( went to put the ice pack away.

'Didn't think that everyone believed in kisses making the pain go away. Maybe mom was right..."

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Hope Morphin Q&A

About a few months ago, I got a message from a surprising source: @hmrphin/Hope Morphin.

In case you don't know, Hope Morphin is a model and makeup artist who the character of Marc was based on. I also made a post about how their friendship with Astruc had ended thanks to the Rising Sun Flag controversy, which they had actually read one day. We talked a little, and they told me to message them on their Instagram to confirm that this is the real Hope.

They said they'd be down to answer some questions, I came up with a few, and I got their permission to post this on my account. So, without further ado, as Sid the Science Kid once said, let's go get some answers.

Question: When did you and Thomas first get to know each other, and how?

Answer: It was years ago, when the series premiered on TFOU. There were a lot of people complaining on twitter that the characters of the show were in 3D instead of in 2D, and I answered one of Thomas' tweets saying that characters' butts looked better in 3D rather than in 2D (yeah, I had a terrible sense of humor back then, glad I don't do that anymore) and he answered "yeah we could say that lol". Then, it became a running gag between us on the web, and we met for the first time at a french convention called Japan Tours, the 2015 one. So yeah, I think it was when I was... 20/21 years old, something like that.

Question: It's okay. We've all been cringe at some point in their lives. Did you two meet up again after the convention?

Answer: Yup. In fact, after the convention, he sent me a friend request on Facebook. Then, we chatted for a bit and he asked me if I wanted to be a model for him, and I met him for the second time during that model session.

Question: How did Thomas approach you about creating a character in his show based on you?

Answer: So, it was after I modeled for him. It happened after S1 has ended, so when we were chatting, he asked me which one was my favorite character. I answered Nathaniel, because at this time I felt quite close to this one (we love the angsty artist boy lmao). He told me that he didn't understand people liking Nath because he found it was a very empty character aha, but then he told me that they were searching for inspiration to create a boyfriend for him. He told me he wanted the persons to be happy that he got a boyfriend and that they would “stop bothering him with Nathaniel”, and as he wanted to take inspiration on someone looking androgynous he thought I was a good inspiration, so I accepted.

Question: Interesting story. Didn't know Nathaniel was so popular before Season 2. Did you have any input in the creation of Marc in terms of stuff like his design or personality?

Answer: Yeah he rather was, I remember a lot of people wanted to see more of him ehe. Not at all, I even though that he was joking on the moment, then one day he sent me Marc's characters sheet. I had the same haircut back in the day. Also, I was always wearing armor rings and I was wearing those kind of rings when I had this conversation with him, and he told me that Marc was going to have one of those as his miraculous. I was also still writing a lot back in the days, so I guess he still did took some stuff there and there in my personality to create him.

Question: You mean this design?

Answer: Yup! I was wearing only black sooo yeah the red and rainbow wasn't in my wardrobe aha.

Question: Do you know why they made the design rainbow themed?

Answer: Nah, he didn't told me :/ My guess is to make him more LGBT+ themed...

Question: Okay, sorry. Next question: What are your thoughts on Marc as a character? What do you think of his relationship with Nathaniel and his respective villain and hero forms, Reverser and Rooster Bold?

Answer: To be honest, when he first appeared, I really liked him. I thought he had a lot of potential as a character, his villain form was really cool and I really liked the ideas behind him, and I liked the relationship that he got with Nathaniel, from enemies to associates ehe. But after that... meh. There wasn't nothing much on the LGBT+ relationship with Nathaniel (we had to wait until the end of season 5 to see them hold hands... wow), and I didn't really find myself anymore in his character. I liked the design of his hero form and I liked the concept of his power, but like the other heroes that appeared during this episode, we didn't see Rooster Bold that much and I think that doesn't really make him feel appealing. I have the feeling that Marc and many other side characters could be way more develop in very cool subthemes but this is never really done in the series. Instead, now, they are just the characters getting out a whiteboard and giving terrible ideas to Marinette for her to date Adrien =="

Question: Just for fun, do you have any personal headcanons for Marc?

Answer: Well of course ehe, I have ton of those :D

Mmmh... For example, I think he is a dog person, that he's also fond of fashion such as Marinette but that he just don't have the patience to learn how to draw and how to design clothes... Also have the headcanon that him and Nath often meet at one of their places to do some little workshops together to work on their series and on tons of other projects :D

Got also tons of headcanon for future!Marc, such as him being a model for lgbt+ brands and Nath designing his clothes, I would love to see this shy patootie being at the front of the spotlight ehe, full of confidence and all :D There's tons of ideas to have with this character, I remember when I saw lots of artists drawing him with alternate clothes back in the day, such as shishitsunari or hazy (will try to find them back but it's been a while lol). I wish those clothing styles would be canon, with Marc rocking those kind of genderless clothes.

Links to fanart of Marc with different outfits: (https://www.deviantart.com/hazydayclouds/art/72918-756895643) and (https://ladyofacat.tumblr.com/post/176231424098/rises-from-the-underworld-marc-is-perfect-i-want)

Question: This one's a little tough, so if you don't want to answer, that's perfectly fine. What exactly went down before Thomas blocked you? Did you have any conversation online or in real life regarding the use of the Rising Sun Flag in "Ephemeral", or did Thomas just block you with no warning?

Answer: Honestly ? Blocked me without any warning. We were talking less and less, and, since I have affective dependancy, I had the feeling that I said / done something wrong. He was often answering only when I was defending him on social medias during these times. But we didn't have any harsh conversation from what I recall. So, I did the tweet about ephemeral, pointing out the use of the rising sun flag, and, well, maybe he had a plugin on twitter that blocked everyone using the term "flag", and maybe it blocked me automatically. The thing is : he has my number, he has my address (well, my old address now, lol). He had many ways to tell me this was a misunderstanding and that he didn't want to block me. He didn't call me, didn't send me any text after that to talk about it, so he clearly didn't want to make anything to sort out the problem. To this day, he still hasn't send me any message to talk about it. He commented on some of my facebook posts I did last year (I posted some makeups I did for my school) just saying it was cool, so... Yeah, not the type of friend I want to keep. I still have him as a friend on FB if I ever get the guts to try to send him a message to tell him everything that was wrong towards me and towards other people, but I clearly have other things to deal with lately.

Question: So he blocked you and didn't say anything else?

Answer: Yup, exactly, blocked me and didn't say anything else :/ After years of supporting him lmao.

Question: I'm really sorry to hear that. And you still haven't heard from him after all this time?

Answer: Well, apart from some comments he made on my facebook posts (I posted my makeup from my makeup school and he commented "very nice!") nothing at all. But honestly I'm not too bothered by that. I heard new stuff that he did prior and I really don't think it's a good idea that I interact with him again. I keep him in my facebook friends because maybe one day I'll send him a message to try to confront him, telling him that he had a very terrible behavior towards me and other people... But not today, I have other stuff to deal with.

Question: Despite everything that's happened between you and Thomas, do you still keep up with Miraculous Ladybug? If so, what do you think of it?

Answer:

Well, I've kept up with it because I still have lots of friends who are watching it (for example Octolady, Kogenta and Candy...), and they help me keep a little hype.

So I watched the episodes... There are some stuff that I like. There's good LGBT+ representation, and I like seeing an international known cartoon doing that (especially a french one since we have lots of far-right rising lately).

But honestly, I don't have the same hype as before. At the beginning, I was hyped because S1 looked awesome and had lots of cool fights, lots of wholesome characters and all, but the animation problems and differences are really making me bothered. Also, I have the feeling there's a lot of characters who could be more elaborated and who aren't, and... That's kinda sad, because there's a lot of topics that could be explored thanks to them and not just brushed off in one episode.

Plus, to be honest, I didn't really like the ending of S5. And I don't like the idea of it going on for seasons and seasons and seasons, milked until there's nothing more for it. The fewer the better in my mind...

I also seen the movie and didn't really liked it. Too much fanservice and didn't really made sense. The animation was nice, though.

Honestly, I love the writing team, they are wholesome people and they are doing their best for this show, but people like Thomas and Zag are the kind of people I don't want to support anymore. So yeah... To sum it up : still watching it from afar to see if nice stuff is happening, been pleased with some little stuff, displeased with a lot more, but I don't think I'll keep watching it both because I'm not that hyped up anymore and because I don't want to support anymore these 2 people. I supported Thomas too much before, was too attached to him and was a terrible person towards fans who didn't deserved it because I was too blind, so yeah, won't happen anymore.

Still, I'm glad there's still some people who are fans of Marc and who felt helped thanks to this character. I really hope he will have a better representation in the future (clear relationship with Nath, maybe even some trans / non-binary representation ?) in order to inspire young people.

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

I'd like to personally thank Hope for being willing to answer my questions, and I highly reccommend giving their Instagram a follow.

[goodboyaudios]

is it true french and british people?

I'm assuming you're asking, are French people also British people?

To which I respond, actually kinda! Back in the years of the Anglo Saxons, England was considered to be an absolute paradise. It was a wonderful land that was considered a paradise to all who had seen it.

So both the French and the vikings wanted it. The vikings tried first but lost horrendously. However, as a result of the English moving all their troops up north to fight the vikings, that left an opening for William the Conqueror of France to swoop in and take the whole place over! That was almost a thousand years ago in the year 1066! I may have gotten a few facts wrong, tho so feel free to correct me.

One thing I know for certain is that England has never been invaded or conquered since. We talk a lot of shit about England begging the US for help during World War 2, but let's not forget about the blitz! When German bombers would rain hellfire over London, the londoners would simply hide away and then get out there afterward the next day and keep on going! That's some serious patriotism right there! Yeah, the country's being bombed to shit but I've got a business to run at 9 am! Let's keep calm and carry on! Makes me fookin' proud.

Never got invaded, tho! And if we make it to 2066, we'll have lasted for 1 millennium! The only country to do it!

[charles-eclair16]

New Beginning

0.4(Part 2)

: charles Leclerc

~ the one where he hopes for forever~

Part 1

Charles_leclerc

Liked by your_username, pierregasly, your_bestfriend and 89.9k others

Tagged: your_username

Charles_leclerc: I didn't think it was possible to love a person so much until you came into my life. You're the breath of fresh air in the morning, my motivation to do better, my other half, my best friend ,my biggest supporter, my favourite part in a good day and my comfort person on a bad day, you know how to make my bad days better and my good days even better. Baby life with you feels like my favourite romance movie and I'm so grateful for you. 5 years ago I wouldn't have imagined that naming you as my crush would be the best thing ever. I remember shaking when we first met I couldn't even form a single sentence together and mumbling a mix of French Italian and English but you understood and you have been understanding till now. You are my comfort person, my women, and the embodiment of the word love to me...I know what it is to love and be loved because of you. I knew the day you ate my half cooked pasta just because I wanted to surprise you with a home cooked meal that I was going to marry you. I remember my maman telling me the first time she met you that I was going to marry you and at that time I remember telling her that we are too young and she had smiled at me knowingly. She had been right amor... because here I'm 4 and a half years later asking you to spend your life together with me and I'm blessed that you said yes! My amor here's me promising to love and cherish you forever...I love you❤️

x

your charles

Comments are limited for this post

Pierregasly: finally! Do you know how hard it was to keep it a secret

>Pierregasly: I had to stop Charles from spoiling his own proposal

>Joris_trouche: please I had to watch him fumble the ring...I almost had a heart attack when he dropped it in the beach

Your_username: stop I'm going to cry again! I love you cha❤️‍🔥

>Your_username: I'm so happy...when you told me to pack my bags for a vacation I didn't know this was your plan...but I'm so so so happy😘 you make me the happiest ❤️❤️

>charles_leclerc: you make me the happiest too❤️❤️

Lilymhe: oh my god the caption!?

>Lilymhe: @alexalbon why can't you write captions like this for me?

>Alexalbon: You know I don't know how to Lily! But I love you

Carlossainz55: you better cherish the ring I had to sit for 4 hours when he went through ring after ring

>Your_username: I love it carlos

Arthur_leclerc: finally!! Congratulations guys🥳 now you can be officially be my favourite Leclerc y/n!

>Your_username: I'm already your favourite Arthur😌😘

francisca.cgomes: congratulations

>francisca.cgomes: I want all the details y/n!!

>Your_username: let's have a girls night when I get back!

>Carmenmmundt: yeah let's plan it

>Lilymhe: I'm already on it

Scuderiaferrari: congratulations to the couple❤️

LewisHamilton: congratulations to you both❤️

>Charles_leclerc: thank you lewis

Pascale.leclerc.355: congratulations my babies❤️ it was clear in the way you looked at her Charles

>Charles_leclerc: thank you maman and please stop exposing me

>Your_username: thank you Pascale❣️

Lorenzotl: welcome to the family y/n

>Your_username: thankyou Lo

[sofs16]

let you break my heart again—2

series link #SOF: biggest thank you to @rocksanneig for helping with the translations 🤍🤍

“hello! ”charles said to the (y/h/c), giddy that yn came.

the big part of him knew yn would come. she was always there. but he told himself not to be too confident and maybe there was a small chance she wouldn’t come. he told himself maybe she just needed a little more time.

but there she was, standing tiredly in front of him with her pillow hanging to her side, the pillowcase charles had gotten for her was hanging in between her finger tips.

yn had been complaining about the itchiness of her pillowcase and the next day charles was handing her a bag of soft pillow cases he had bought with some of his racing money.

“salut hi” she whispered, subconsciously using french as the language whilst she shivered from the sudden wind. “come in! ” charles opened the door wider, making sure she got in before closing the door behind her. he took her other hand gently and hurried to the living room. her heart rate had quickened at his touch.

all the leclerc’s were aware of them occupying the living room, pascale made sure arthur and lorenzo wouldn’t disturb the two teens. she had always loved yn as her own daughter and wanted nothing more for them to stop fighting — maybe even a confession.

“i am very very sorry, yn. i can not apologize enough but thank you for coming.” he sat her down the couch “ouais yeah” she mumbled, still unease with her paced heart rate and the situation.

“y/n/n, dis quelque chose say something” charles sighed, nudging her after a while of silence and she shook her head “'tu sais ce qu'on dit dans le code des filles -ou le code des garçons, charles ? on met pas ses amourettes avant sa meilleure amie. you ever heard of girl code— even boy code, charles? you don’t put ‘flings’ or whatever before your best friend”

“je sais, je suis désolé- i know, i’m sorry-”

“'Non tu sais pas ! T'es même pas amoureux de Lacy. C'est qui pour toi ? La troisième fille avec qui tu sors cette année juste parce qu'elle trouve que t'es beau et qu'elle t'aime bien ? C'est pas comme ça que ça fonctionne. no you don’t know! you don’t even like lacy. what is she? your third girl of the year just because they say they think you’re hot and they like you? it doesn’t work like that.”

“Tu te mets pas avec quelqu'un parce qu'il t'aime et que tu apprécies le fait qu'on t'aime; tu te mets avec quand c'est réciproque. Ça fait souffrir l'autre personne! you don’t get with someone just because they like you and you like that someone likes you; you get with them when you actually like them. it hurts the other person!”

“i.. i am not with lacy anymore” he mumbled, fiddling with the knit blanket. she raised a brow as if she had proven her point.

‘don’t expect anything’ yn quietly reminded herself

“she broke up with me” she looks at charles. what kind of an idiot would leave him? sure, charles had his flaws, but to yn he was the only man who she considered ‘perfect’ even in his own way.

she gave charles a hug. charles always found comfort in her hugs, an indescribable feeling to him.

“i’m sorry charles but that doesn’t excuse what you did. it may be small to others but the one day i asked for us to have, you leave me waiting for hours.” she whispers

“i know, i will never do it again! i promise!” and he stood by that. “sorry about your breakup though” she mumbles, pulling away from the hug “It is okay, at least we get to spend more time together, like before!” charles smiled “got any upcoming races?” she leaned back on the couch, changing the topic. she did not want a fight, she wanted him to understand, maybe a little too naive at the time.

“one next next week.” charles leans over to open a bag of chips, offering her some. “i wish i could go but i’ve been slumped with work” yn sighs, munching on her chips “don’t worry! i’ll ask maman to video it all so we can watch it together”

“i can’t wait for you” she says with a small smile before they fall into their usual chatter, forgetting to even watch a movie.

pascale finds them both sleeping on the couch, charles embracing yn. she takes a photo of them on the polaroid camera lorenzo recently got for the family. she puts it in a memory album charles doesn’t know exists. It has pages of them growing up together.

1 month later, october, is the peak of senior prom talk. the schools in monaco aren’t as large as others, meaning word spreads fast. charles recently got with another girl, heather, who he thinks is the one. but he’s 15, what does he know?

yn hasn’t bothered to speak about it since the last argument… rather, the lack of argument. she hangs out with charles once or twice a week and to her, that’s enough.

during a usual leclerc- yln dinner, charles mentions him going to prom with heather. the others indulge in that topic as pascale turns to look at yn. she sees the young girl looking down at her food, keeping her eyes trained on the pasta.

“what about you, yn? any cute boys?” lorenzo asks, making yn look up. charles looks at her as well.

charles hadn’t thought about that.

“um.. a few have asked but.. i didn’t really say yes” she shrugs.

“why not”

“how come”

“are you going alone?” the others push more follow-up questions. “i don’t really know... besides, shouldn’t we be talking about lorenzo’s girlfriend?” she smiles and tries to shift the conversation, which thankfully works.

ironically, the next day at school, one of the few boys yn may actually think is cute, asks her to the prom. “sure” she smiles. a little company can’t hurt anyone.

as mentioned, word travels fast in their school. hence charles storming into yn’s room at 9 in the evening. “you did not tell me” “charlie, it doesn’t hurt to knock sometimes” she says, putting on some moisturizer.

“you did not tell me you were going to prom with— what is his name? philus ?” he repeats “it’s philippe” she cocks her head to the side, setting the moisturizer down

“why did you not tell me?” “charlie, he asked me out today”

“and?” “charles, you literally just got home from your date with heather. why do you think?” she said, exasperated

“you could text me!” he bickers “why is this so important? i would have told you yesterday!” “Because we do not talk as much and I— I just want what is best for you” “And whose fault do you think that is?” she whispers

history repeats itself, another girl, another argument.

charles quietly leaves the room with a muttered apology but comes back, just as quickly, to hug her and wipe the tears away.

“stop ditching me for girls, its pathetic of me to cry over this” she mumbled in his sweatshirt “i am stupid, do not cry over me, please”

he then hasn’t understood the layers to the argument, yet again, but there was an unspoken rule to him that he couldn’t go to sleep with you two being in an argument, not again.

the next week, charles takes yn out for a joint birthday dinner. she ends up paying for it after multiple quarrels on who pays. it was his birthday, after all. she ends up giving him a bracelet she bought for him. he told her that he would never take it off.

november strolls by and charles has never been more enthusiastic for yn’s birthday. she deserved a good one. he spoiled her that day and dragged her away for a moment to give her a necklace with a friendship ring, both their initials engraved. she thanks him with a tight, bone crushing hug.

january break is spent supporting charles’ races, being present in all of them.

february, prom finally happens. it would have been much memorable to yn if she wasn’t still hung up on charles. her date was kind and good for her. charles and her would subconsciously both look at each other.

though, that night, they all get home with little giggles, yn and charles saying good night to each other as they enter their houses. and just before charles can shut the door, he notices a letter sitting under the door mat.

he picks it up, paying no mind, until he sees your name. his first thought of his, to return it to you, is stopped when he sees the stamp of oxford.

— INSTAGRAM FILE

yn.yln.16

liked by charles_leclerc, and 394 others

yn.yln.16 little dinner plans for birthday boy here! #16!

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charles_leclerc How come you get the good photo? ⤷ yn.yln.16 my face isnt even seen charles… you always get it at horrible times 😅

⤷ charles_leclerc I guess I will learn photography for you so you stop complaining 😝

october 16, 2013

yn.yln.16

liked by charles_leclerc, and 502 others

yn.yln.16 Finally my favorite number!!! #16! view all 121 comments november 3, 2013

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.yln.16, and 310 others

charles_leclerc Happiest birthday to my constant, yn.yln.16! It has been a tough year for us but I always knew we would make it through! :) Thank you for always sticking by me even if I can be very stupid at times and always supporting me, you are everything to me. I love you! And also, 16 is my number 😠

view all 24 comments

facebookmom1 Cutest couple! ❤️

yn.yln.16 charlie :,) I’m tearing up. yn.yln.16 Thank you so much !

yn.yln.16 16 Is my number! I’ve had it since we were 3, back off!

november 3, 2013

yn.yln.16

liked by charles_leclerc, and 439 others yn.yln.16 last semester!!!!!! #senior view all 21 comments

charles_leclerc So well deserved! ❤️

january 12, 2014

yn.yln.16

tagged: lorenzotl, arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, and leclerc_pascale liked by charles_leclerc, and 549 others

yn.yln.16 Boys insisted on a pre-prom drinking night to see my soda drinking tolerance😒

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leclerc_pascale 😍

charles_leclerc Nice necklace 😅🤪

⤷ yn.yln.16 Nice bracelet 😝

february 5, 2014

yn.yln.16

tagged: philippe_1996 liked by charles_leclerc, and 683 others

yn.yln.16 Prom 🤍

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philippe_1996 Beautifulllll❤️

charles_leclerc 😍😍😍

february 9, 2014

TAGLIST : @1655clean @uuzhanggggggg

@cmleitora @annie115

let me know if you want to be part of the list and your thoughts🤍

[junedenim]

not shy of a spark

part 2 part 3

one day with a stranger in a foreign country

word count: 16k

Alex notices her for the first time on the other side of the train's aisle. She's wearing a blue bandana around her head, tied under her chin, and looks like she belongs in a Godard film. Her dirty blonde hair peeks through and she's wearing sunglasses, like him. She's got wired headphones on and is staring out the window, just like him.

He's looking for too long. He knows it. She's going to catch on at some point. His eyes aren't hiding his infatuation but he can't help but look. There's no one sitting beside her and there's no one sitting beside him. She only has a saddle bag with her that's sitting on the empty chair.

He can't think of an opening but he can't stop staring. He tries not to look too suspicious but he's locked in looking at her during the train ride.

When they arrive in Brussels, she leaves before he can get out of his seat. Then, Alex spots the book sitting on her seat. All he can think is how big of a fool he must be if he wastes this chance to talk to her—a shy idiot who stares at a girl for the whole train ride and says nothing.

Once he gets off the train, he sees her by the escalator. She's looking through her bag and he assumes she is looking for the book. His heart feels heavy and he inches slowly toward her, not wanting to spook her.

"Excuse me," Alex says. She looks up at him. She's taken her sunglasses off and he can see her blue eyes. They're a calm ocean wave crashing into him. It takes him a second to spit it out. "This your book?"

She looks at the book in his hands and smiles up at him. Alex feels pride like he's achieved some Herculean task by giving the book back to her. "Yes, yes." She grabs the book from his hands and returns it to her space in her bag. "Thank you."

Alex can't let her walk away so he asks, "Is it any good?"

"The book?" She questions. He nods. "I like it so far. Have you read it?" He notices her French accent for the first time. It's light, not as strong as his English one, but it ebbs into the pronunciation of her words. It makes sense she's French. The book was in French. Haute Fidelite.

He shakes his head. "No, no. I saw the movie years ago."

"Oh, with Jack Black, right?" She giggles. She has a good laugh, an infectious one that courses itself through Alex.

He chuckles. "Yeah. You like Jack Black?" He wants to slap himself in the face and he thinks the wincing shows on his face. She laughs again, almost like pointing a finger in his face and saying Ha ha!

"I love Jack Black. Do you like Jack Black?" She turns the question on him with laughter.

Alex quails. "Who doesn't?"

She's about to say goodbye. Alex can feel her floating away from him and he can't let it happen. He doesn't want to be a creep but he doesn't want her to disappear forever without giving it a try. "Have you been here before?"

She nods and he exhales in relief that he has an in. "My mother is from here. When my grandparents were still alive we came."

"Do you think you could show me around a little? Point me to a good cafe or summat." He shoves his hands in his pockets. He must look nervous. He has to. Alex is sure his antsy behavior is creeping her out and the fact that he is breaking a sweat isn't helping.

But then she smiles and he thinks everything will be alright. "I could stop for pain au chocolat."

Alex grins. "You say it so French."

He's a dimwit English man because "Well, I am French." She smiles at his charm, which he would label stupidity. "I'm Charlotte but everyone calls me Lottie."

"Alex." She takes his hand and shakes it. A jolt runs through his arm like a nerve has been hit.

"Follow me? Yeah?" She instructs and he follows as she travels out of the station. Her dress, a simple white one, flows behind her and she looks as though she has the keys to the gates of heaven.

When they make it out of the station, she asks him, "What brings you to Belgium?"

That's when he starts lying to her. "I've never been before. I've always wanted to but kept putting it off."

"What about you? Why were you in London?" Alex asks.

She smiles at him. "I've got friends up there."

When they enter the cafe, Lottie takes the scarf off and he sees her full head of hair, glowing and cascading down her back like a rushing waterfall. "What would you like?"

"Oh." He forgot about that part. "A coffee, I guess, and a croissant." Relief comes when she orders for them.

They sit at a table outside. The air is breezy but not windy and the temperature sits firmly in no-need-for-a-jacket weather, even if he wears one still. "Do you mind?" She plucks a cigarette out.

"As long as I can bum one," Alex says.

She hands him one and a flame bursts between the two of them. "Do you usually ask strangers to be your tour guides in foreign countries?"

He chuckles. "Yeah. You get a translator and free cigarettes." Alex shakes his head. "No, no. I don't usually do this kind of thing."

"So, I'm the exception." Her smile sparks something in him. It implores him to be honest. He tells her that he's on a bit of a getaway, although he doesn't tell her what he's escaping. Brussels is the closest city by train from London and he'd never explored the city before. She tells him she's stopping her for the day before she heads back home for Paris tonight. She hasn't been here since she was a teenager.

After they've finished their pastries and coffees, she asks, "Do you want to see the peeing boy?"

Alex leans forward. "Pardon?"

She giggles and he feels like she's making fun of him. "You don't know anything about Brussels, do you?"

Alex bows his head shamefully. "I'll admit my research was lacking for the most part."

"Come on." She grabs his hand and drags him out of his chair. She lets go and he hates that she lets go.

On the walk over, she asks him what he does for a living. She must think he's a drug dealer or pimp by his evasiveness but he admits, "Oh, I'm, uh, a musician."

"What kind of musician?"

He's not helping matters. "I, uh, do a little, uh—I'm in a band."

"Oh, my ex-boyfriend was in a band," she says light-heartedly. "Do you like being in a band?"

It's oddly refreshing. It's not like everyone he comes across knows who he is but it's been a long time since someone has asked him what he does for work and doesn't know already. An especially long time since a pretty girl asked him.

"Yeah. I mean, I've known them—the guys—my whole life and it's a fun job to have."

"Not many people get to do their dreams for a living."

"What do you do?"

Lottie groans. "I'm a nanny but it's a temporary thing, at least, you know, for now. I'm kind of figuring the whole what I want to do with my life thing out."

Alex says, "That's perfectly respectable."

She scoffs with laughter. "Tell that to my parents. I think they would be supportive of me if they knew I had a passion for something. Like if I wanted to be a musician they would completely support me. I think they would, but I don't even have something like that."

"Well, what do you like?" Alex is fascinated and wants to know every little bit about her. Wants to understand what makes her tick. Wants to make her tick. He feels like a horny teenage boy but he can't help it. He swallows down his desires as best he can because listening to her talk is enough.

Lottie shrugs. "Euh, I mean, I have hobbies. I like to paint and I think I'm a good cook but...I don't want to do those things."

He nods. "I know what you mean. Music can feel that way sometimes. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't do that. Probably be a teacher like me parents or something."

Lottie smiles. It's bright and she stares at him like looking at a star up close would do to you. "Both your parents teach?"

"Yeah, yeah. Me mum's a German teacher. Me dad's taught science and music and stuff." He feels like an awkward gangly teenage boy in front of her. She's strong and moving and just has a way about her.

"Is that where your musical ability comes from? Turn down here," Lottie directs as they round a corner.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "I suppose. It kind of came about in different ways."

"Do you speak German?" She's quite the interviewer.

"A little but not really."

"Huh."

Alex chuckles. "Huh, what? You making fun of me for being a dumb Brit."

She's giggling and he doesn't care if it is his lack of intelligence that is making her laugh because she's got a laugh that'll crack you in two. "No, never," she says but really means yes, totally.

"You're ripping on me because the British education system failed me. If I could learn another language I would," Alex tells her as they walk down the steps to the tram.

"What language would you learn?"

They're walking shoulder-to-shoulder and he feels something shutter in him by the way her shoes click along the tile. "French would probably help me out a lot right now."

Lottie had been sparked, smiling, she asks, "Would you like me to teach you?"

Alex, passing through the turnstile, smiles and answers, "I'd like that."

"Do you know how to say bonjour?"

Alex rolls his eyes. "I'm not that far gone."

Lottie throws her head back in a giggle. "I don't know how much the British education system failed you."

"Bonjour, je m'appelle Alex."

They hop on the tram waiting for them. Lottie nods her head in approval. "Très bien."

"That means I did good, right?"

She snorts a laugh and nods. "You're a right old Frenchie."

The tram is decently packed so they stand by the door, holding onto the same pole. He's not much taller than her but he still smiles down upon her. The top of her hair has fly-aways coming off of it from when she pulled her scarf down but she looks like she looks like the embodiment of divinity.

There's a lull of silence as the tram moves. She breaks it by telling him, "In Ypres, where my bomma, my grandmother, is from, they hold this festival where people dress up in cat costumes and throw cat stuffed animals from a tower."

Alex chuckles. "Why?"

She throws her left hand up in the air, talking with it. "It's symbolic, I think. They used to throw real cats from the tower to rid the town of evil spirits and bad luck."

"So, it's probably for the best they just do the stuffed animals now."

"I think so," she agrees. "What about you? Where in England are you from?"

"Sheffield," Alex answers.

Lottie leans her head on the pole, gazing up at him. He gets lost in her eyes. Could stare at them for an extended period of time that some might consider staring or stalking but definitely creepy. "What's Sheffield like?"

Alex doesn't know how to answer. He's always felt where he was from was plain, especially in comparison to what this Parisian girl has experienced. "I don't know. I mean, I like it."

She giggles at him. "Do you still live there?"

"Yeah, technically I still live with my parents. That sounds a bit lame, doesn't it?"

She's nice about and shakes her head. "I don't think so. I live with the family I nanny. Not exactly luxury."

"A live-in nanny sounds luxurious," Alex comments.

"For the family maybe but they stuff me in a closet."

"Like Harry Potter?" He questions.

She hums, "Mhm?"

"You know, how he lives under the stairs," Alex explains.

"I've never read Harry Potter."

He throws his head back with a groan. "You're making me sound like a geek. I thought it was a general knowledge thing."

"Maybe." She shrugs. "I never read Harry Potter. I was geekier in other regards."

"Like?" He wants to know everything about her. Wants her to expose her insides to him like a game of Operation and poke around, find her heart, and keep it for himself.

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head. "I'm not going to scare you off yet."

"Oh, come on, I'm sure it's not anything as embarrassing as an unnatural obsession with The Strokes."

"I like The Strokes." She is the perfect girl. He delusional thinks that if she knows the Strokes she must know him but her eyes don't hint at that.

"You have to have one irredeemable quality, Lottie."

"Well, I don't know. I have this problem with my therapist."

He's taken aback. "Your therapist?"

"Yeah, I mean, that's a whole other bag of worms."

"Can of worms," he corrects the error with a chuckle.

"Right," she acknowledges. "We got into this disagreement over my ex-boyfriend. You know, he was a certifiable psycho and he had—this is our spot—he had this problem with, well, he was a porn addict."

Alex stills and doubles over in laughter and she has to drag him off the tram so it doesn't leave with him.

She furrows her brows. "What?"

"I just wasn't expecting you to say that."

Lottie sighs, "I don't pick the best men. That has been abundantly clear and my therapist has agreed with that for the past decade—"

"You've been going to therapy for a decade?"

She squints at him, "Are you sure you're not French? You're very judgy."

"Sorry, sorry." He doesn't want to upset her in any way, especially something he should probably be doing too. "I just don't know anyone who is in therapy let alone for a decade."

"I'm of the opinion everyone could use it otherwise they'll be spontaneously getting on a train to Brussels." She can read him like street signs. He says something and she knows exactly where he's headed.

"Hey!"

She grins at him. "Who said I was talking about you?" She continues walking straight. "I think everyone should be in therapy but my therapist is a certifiable nutjob but that's why I think she fits me. She's had a problem with everyone of my boyfriends, even the good ones. But my last one, who I broke up with because of the porno addiction, she told me that I give up too easily and I should work it out with him. I'm like 'You've told me to break up with my last 5 boyfriends but you want me to get back with the guy who has VHS tapes of porn under his bed."

"VHS?" Alex laughs.

Her head nods with amusement. "Yes, it was bad."

"Do you think you'll get back together with him?" Selfishly, he wants the answer to be no. He also wants her to say "Never, I want to be with you now." That's when he really feels like a foolish sad sack.

Instead, she says, "Uh, no. I'll just hop on a train to Amsterdam or something and continue to avoid my issues in Paris."

"You think you're going to keep traveling?" How's a world tour sound?

"I'd like to but I've got to head back to Paris for my job. They gave me the week off to visit my friends in London but they're expecting me back tomorrow morning. What about you? You off on a European tour?" Unknowingly, she's right.

"Nah, I have to get back to London for work too." Recording a second hit album more accurately.

"So, one night in Brussels?"

"That was the plan."

"Except you had no plans. Well, other than to prey on an unsuspecting French girl." She's simpering and he supposes that means she is fine with him preying on an unsuspecting French girl.

"I'm not preying on you," Alex insists. I just want to kiss you.

"You are totally taking advantage of me. I had plans too, you know. Now I'm stuck walking with you to look at a little boy piss."

Alex needs to know. "Is it seriously a little boy pissing?"

She giggles, "You'll see. We're only a street away."

"What were you planning to do here?" He doesn't want to drag her away from her plans and, if she'll allow him, he'd tag along with her anywhere.

"I didn't really have any plans. Reminisce. I haven't been back in so long I fear I made Brussels up in my imagination." She's reflective looking, eyes darting around the art nouveau buildings for answers.

"How does your memory compare to how it is now?"

"Not too far off." She points her finger. "Here's the pissing boy."

Alex sighs and closes his eyes in both relief and amusement. "It's a statue." A little boy elevated above a fountain basin, holding his penis, water sprouting into the bowl. Alex is an idiot.

Lottie throws her head back in a cackle. "Did you think I was taking you to watch a real boy piss?"

"I don't know what they get up to in mainland Europe. You're throwing cats off of towers here!" He's slightly embarrassed but her laugh, even if it's at him, relieves an ache of this being a moment he looks back on in regret. No regret with that laugh.

"Manneken Pis. He's a hero."

"If every man who whipped out their dick in Britain got a statue, I don't think there would be any room left in the country."

She giggles. "The story goes he saves Brussels by peeing on a fuse that was lit by enemies to explode the city walls."

"The moral is public urination?"

She clutches her stomach. "I guess." He can't help but join in.

They set off walking to nowhere in particular. They don't even discuss where actually their feet are taking them. They just use it as a pathway for conversation. She holds her hands around her waist and she talks in a hushed manner but clear. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he's sure his mumbling can't be easy to understand but she never asks him to repeat himself.

"Do you travel a lot?" He asks her.

Lottie replies, "More when I was younger. Mainly just in Europe but I went to New York once."

"My grandma took me to Disneyland once."

"Really? No one in my family would ever do that."

"Why?"

"They all hate amusement parks. Really, they all hate amusement." It shocks him considering she seems so amused by everything. So amused by him. The first to crack a smile, burst into laughter, and encourage him to do the same.

"Not the most wild bunch?"

"No, they're wild. My brother's personality takes up enough space for 4 people. My maman has this laughter you can hear from 3 towns over. But they're, euh, more sophisticated to say." She says it so delicately and intently, he can't but think there is more to the story.

He jokes, "Oh, us Brits are just rolling in the mud."

"Eh, eh, I'm not saying that! My family is uptight. I'm not saying I don't love them but I'm not the biggest fan. I'd like to go to Disneyland." She thinks for a moment. "No I wouldn't."

He laughs. "Why? Why the sudden change?"

She scoffs, "I hate lines. I have the patience of a masturbating boy."

Alex fears she's reading his mind and that she's calling him out like I know what you're thinking and you can't have it. He's also choked up in laughter. "What?"

"Oh, well, you know, I'm sure you know. It's quick and they have to have it now and god forbid maman walks in on you with the laundry so you have to get it down now and fast."

"You're crazy-sounding, Lottie." He shakes his head and catches his breath.

"Maybe but I'm not wrong. Do you want to go in here? You like records?" She points to a shop, a little off the way.

He mocks, "Do I like records?" Alex follows her head first into the record store. She greets the shop owner for them and heads straight to scouring her way through the records.

They stand side-by-side, throwing spare glances at one another, but the other never catches them. He embarrassingly sees one of his records in the eye and is eternally grateful the band made the right decision to not put any of their faces on the cover.

They make it to the Gs when she turns to him. "I have to be honest. I don't even have a record player."

Alex snickers. "You're missing out."

"I like the idea of it. We had one growing up but I don't even have a CD player. The family I nanny, they like music but they don't like loud things. They're the type that they gather around the piano every night."

"So it's not like they're for modernity, in fact, they're more old-fashioned than a record player."

"Precisely." They do this little dance. Showing each other a record in silence and either getting a nod of approval or a shake of dismay. By the end, Lottie has no records and Alex has about twenty.

"I can not carry all these back to London." He struggles to even pick up the stack.

She guffaws at him. "Why don't you pick 5 of them?"

Alex waves her off. "Nah, I don't think I'm going to get any of them."

She bulges her eyes at him. "Seriously. You're going to hurt the poor shopkeeper's feelings."

"Here, I'll get you one," Alex offers.

She laughs and shakes her head. "I don't even have a record player."

He selects one out of his pile and walks it over to the cashier. "This is my way of inciting you to get your first. I consider it marketing to get the vinyl industry back up and running."

The shopkeeper tells him, "12 Euros."

The cash only sign glares at him. "Oh, shit," Alex mutters under his breath.

Lottie smirks. "You don't have any Euros, do you?"

Alex sheepishly looks over at her. His wallet only showing the few pounds he had in cash. "Yeah, sorry."

She digs through her saddle bag and pulls at the cash from her wallet and hands it over to the shopman. "You really weren't prepared for traveling."

"I intended to get some at the train station. Got a little distracted." He feels like the biggest doofus but she's looking at him with heart eyes.

Lottie smiles and shakes her head in disbelief at him. "What did you get me anyway?" Alex picks the bag off the counter as they exit the shop. He pulls the record out of the bag and she reads aloud, "Love in Portofino, Dalida."

"I figured a little French to match your French, although some of it might be in Italian. I don't remember." He slides the record back into the bag but keeps carrying it.

"Well, thank you," she says. Their feet continue on the cobbled road with no direction in particular.

He dismisses the comment. "You paid for it. I stood there and looked stupid."

"The gesture was still there and I appreciate it." He's not sure if he's delusional but he swears she makes eyes over at him, batting her lashes with her hair blowing away in the wind. Her eyes zero in on him and he feels like he's drowning. A wave has taken him away and he can only gasp for air, steadily struggling. "The town hall is right up here. It's beautiful if you'd like to see it."

Alex isn't sure it can compare to the sight beside him but he is willing to give it a try. With a nod of his head, they set off in that direction. "What do you play in that band of yours?"

He's not expecting to talk about the band. He feels awkward, avoiding such a big subject of his life, but he's eager for this escapism. He desires to just be a boy with a girl in a European city with no cares of what is to come next. "Oh, um, I play guitar and sing."

"You sing?" She questions.

"Yeah." The way she says her question prompts him to think out loud, "Why? I don't give the impression I do."

"I never said that."

"Ah," he wags his finger at her, "but your tone did. You were surprised that I sing."

She explains, "You don't have the demeanor I imagine for a singer."

"Which is?"

"I don't know. I imagine it's a rock band, right?" He nods. "Then, I don't know, something like Elvis or something. You're not very cocky, at least not with me."

"You're not the first to say it and I understand why." His shyness is pretty obvious. "I'm not offended by it."

"Good." She smiles at him and he smiles back. They stand before the town hall, Saint Michael gazing down upon them but they are too occupied with one another to pay any mind to him. Somewhere between these glimpses at the other, Lottie breaks eye contact, and meets Michael's eye contact. "Here we are. Voila! That's here you are in French."

He can only utter, "Wow," but he's not sure who he is saying it to. The carvings of the gothic structure or the lulu leaving him rapt at every corner.

His eyes trace over every inch of the hall. Her eyes trace over him, not looking, not noticing. She's seen the town hall enough, she hasn't gotten enough of Alex, unguarded, relaxed, and enthralled in the building. He's got a cut on his chin, slight and almost unnoticeable. His hair is tamed in a rough manner that fits his personality, hiding himself away but messing about to stand him out in a crowd. His arms are crossed now, no longer hidden away in his pockets. His brown eyes trained forward but expressing something that you can't place your finger on.

They meet hers soon after. She points her finger at a street to their left. "If we go this way, there's a hill where you can look over the city."

Alex isn't sure if it's instinct or some form of confidence that takes a hold over him, but he grabs her hand, much like she did outside that cafe, and says, "Let's go then." Unlike her, he doesn't let go. Her palms are soft and wrap his calloused hands up in a gentle hug. On the walk over, he looks over with a smile to see that she's already returning one.

The incline ahead exercises their legs but they're never fully out of breath. Too deep in conversation to notice the beating of their heart and constricting of their lungs. "When I was younger," she tells him, "we'd come here every summer. You know, when Paris grew overrun with tourists, and I was on break from school. My papa would put me on his shoulders and I'd feel on top of the world. No fear of falling. I feel like I've been searching for that feeling ever since."

He wants to give her that. Wants to wrap her in his arms and soothe every ache. He knows it's some infatuation and, at first, he thought he was thinking with his dick, not his head. Now, he thinks he's thinking with his heart. She talks of feelings he forgot, buried deep inside his childhood self and forgot the wonder of. She's an innocent rush within a darkling.

"I used to beg to drive me parents car," Alex tells her, "when I was 5 or 6. One time, me mum sat me on her lap. We were in some abandoned parking lot. She let me drive the car around. She'd press the gas and break, of course, because I couldn't reach it but I steered and everything. Sometimes I wish for that control back."

"But you didn't even have it then," Lottie points out.

His brows furrow. He doesn't understand what she's saying. "What?" He had his hands on the wheel then. Now, it feels like he's strapped to the roof of the car.

"You weren't the one driving. Your mum decided when you stopped or started."

Something clicks in him. A knot gets undone. The analogy doesn't stop the car he's in from speeding down the highway but he feels he can ride with it, at least be in the backseat. "You're making me out to be one of those creepy boys obsessed with their mothers."

She wheezes. "It sounds like you're just fond of your mum, which is good. You haven't said anything too weird yet."

They're at a stoplight but their hands are still together, neither making a move to change that. He turns to look her in the eye. "Yet?" He squints at her.

"Are you an only child?"

He drops his jaw in an offended manner. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She drops her jaw in a chagrin manner. "You are!"

"What's wrong with that?"

She giggles at his affrontement. "Nothing. You're the one getting all frustrated about it."

He can't help but laugh along with her. "I am not."

Lottie points a finger at him. "Yes, you are."

They reach the peak, although it goes unnoticed amongst their laughter. Lottie turns to the view. "Here we are."

"Wow," Alex utters. They stand atop a peak of stairs looking outwards on an urban floral boom. Flowers line the cement down to the townhomes that stand on the ground floor. The town hall tower stands through the midst of buildings—Saint Michael's back to them.

"Let me get your picture." Lottie holds up her camera—a little yellow thing with a bright smiley face sticker on the front.

"What?"

She urges him forward. "Come on, you gave me the record. I'll give you a picture." He stands centered at the top of the stairs. His pose is awkward, unable to figure out where to place his hands. Her record in its bag hangs in his hand and he brushes a hand through his hair, although it does little to tame it. She snaps it leaving her with a bright smiley face.

"What's this building here?" Alex gestures beside them.

"The Magritte Museum, I think. That's what the sign says. Do you want to go in?" She's looking at him excitedly, fuck, he would do anything for that to continue.

He nods and they walk up to the porticoes where she admires every inch. "I think I could have been an architect in another life," Lottie tells him.

"Why not this life?" He asks.

"I suck at math."

He pays for the tickets with his credit card even if it means he's slapped with a large conversion fee. In the elevator, smushed together with 6 other people, he can't help but look at her. When their eyes meet, he feels something in him unlodge. Like that lump that's been stuck in his throat for the past 6 months has finally gone down. At last, he can breathe again.

When they reach the top floor, she reaches back for his hand and pulls him through the halls of the museum. He smiles down at their intertwined hands because what art is better than her touch? He's known her for 2 hours and he's saying shit like that. Fuck.

It's around Magritte's impressionist period that Alex finally has to whisper into Lottie's ear, "What the fuck drugs was this man on?"

She giggles, eyes trained on the painting "The Stroke of Luck" or, really, a pig dressed in a suit at a graveyard. "It's surrealistic, not drug-fueled mania."

"Then why is the pig looking at me like that?" He whispers and she giggles once more. That pig is eyeing him down and he knows it. Its eyes will follow him to every corner of the room, he swears.

"It's like Animal Farm," she tries to explain.

"Orwell?"

She nods. "Precisely."

"We should have gotten the audio tour. I don't understand anything," Alex whines.

"Don't doubt yourself. The pig feels pleasure at a cemetery. He stares at you insidiously. And you know, all men are pigs so."

She giggles from her riposte as he exclaims, "Hey! We aren't all bad."

Lottie rolls her eyes, but she knows. "Well, most are. Magritte doesn't seem like such a pig." She lets go of his hand and flounces off to the next section. He stands to watch.

At the end of the section, he asks her beneath a painting, "What's it mean?"

Her head tilts down from staring up. "The French or the painting?"

Alex huffs. "Both, probably."

"Well," she informs him, "the French is 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe' 'This is not a pipe.'"

He shakes his head in confusion. "But aren't I looking at a pipe?" He's staring at it, painted to near perfection. The shades in mahogany wood are clear. The cursive lettering insisting that it is, in fact, not a pipe.

She insists, "No. What are you looking at?"

"A pipe," he insists.

"But is it? It is both a pipe and not a pipe."

"Huh?"

"Could you smoke it?"

"No."

"Then it isn't a pipe."

He smirks.

"You get it now, don't you?"

"Magritte is a fucking genius."

She bursts out laughing so loud she has to clutch her mouth to contain the disruption. They quickly dart out of that room into the next.

Before Anne-Marie Crowet, Alex leans over and says, "It looks like you."

"The painting?"

He nods. "Not exactly. Not nearly as pretty as you."

She purses her lips. "You're trying to be suave."

"How am I doing?"

She just smiles.

They sit in the park afterward. It's across the museum and their feet hurt from standing in front of paintings for too long. They're on the grass, feeling every inch as the breeze breathes through them. He lies back on his hands and she sits in a criss-cross, picking at the little flowers that sprout from the dirt. She plucks one out and shifts over to him. He thinks she's going to hand it to him but she doesn't. She brushes his hair behind his left ear and places it there.

His heart is running a marathon and she looks pleased, the beauty of a flower growing from the earth or the sun at dawn or her. He has to do what he's been fighting against since his eyes met hers in the train window back in St. Pancras. He takes her face into his hands and kisses her. It's slow-moving but transmutes his system. She floods into him and his shore welcomes the wreckage. There's no point in stopping it and he can't think of a single reason why he shouldn't.

She pulls away from him with that oh-so-bright smile and rests her forehead on his. "I was worried I was going to have to make the first move."

"I just wanted to be sure."

"Pussy," she jokes. She giggles while she says it and he thinks she doesn't get to say the word often because she says it like a kid who whispers curse words behind their parents' back.

His hand is holding her cheek so delicately like her porcelain skin might shatter. "Just not a pig."

Her smile is overwhelming. She shakes her head lightly. "Not in the slightest." Kissing him again and shining light through all the cracks within him.

She leans upon him for a few moments. Head on his shoulder and heart in his hands. "What would you be doing right now if I hadn't become my tour guide?" She asks.

"Probably picked up some other girl," he jokes.

She elbows him. "Funny. You're trying to be funny."

Alex chuckles at her reaction. His arm brushes up her side and soothes her into him. "No, I'd probably be wandering around aimlessly having no clue where to go. Probably still trying to figure out how to get out of the train station. What about you?"

Her face changes and retracts. She stares off and hides herself away from his sights. "I don't know." He can tell she's lying when she shrugs him off.

"You can tell me," Alex tries to urge. "Or not. Whatever you want."

"I don't mean to depress the conversation." She looks back over at him. "Probably visit my bomma's grave. And sightseeing and such. Sorry to bring the light out of the conversation."

Alex shakes his head. "You're not. I want to hear about these things." Her mouth forms a small upturn. "Would you like to go?"

"No, I'll go another time," she tells him.

Alex stands up and reaches his hand down to her. "You should go. I'd like to come too if that's alright. If you would want that. I don't want to impose or anything."

She grabs his hand and he pulls her up. "You wouldn't be. I don't want to force you. We can meet up later if you'd like or part here, you know, I had a great time."

They're both too caught up in their rambling trying not to come off too strong. "No, no, you wouldn't be forcing me. I don't want to ruin your plans at all."

She finally grabs his hand. "Alex, let's go." She pulls him off the grass back onto the street. "It's up in Molenbeek so you can see a new part of the city. She's been dead for over a decade so it's not like I'll be weeping at her gravestone. I felt I had to go while I was here. Haven't been here since her funeral."

"Don't feel any pressure to hold anything in while I'm here. I want to know what you are feeling."

"Even though it's sad going to her gravestone, but being here in Brussels, remembering those things I did with her makes me happy. To be honest, I'm happy doing it with you. I think I'd be depressed walking around the city all by myself but sharing it with someone—with you—is a whole new pleasure. Thank you."

Alex shakes his head. "You don't have to thank me. I should be thanking you. You've been saving my butt here all day with your help."

"Well, you do have a nice butt that wouldn't be worth it to the world to risk." She is the glowing light around. A modern-day Aurora, except he's Sleeping Beauty, and she's snapping him out of the haze he has been locked in.

"You're pretty fucking beautiful too." She leans into him and puts her head on his shoulder while they walk. He kisses the top of her head and he feels like he has done this in a million other lifetimes. Whatever path the course of his life went down, he ends up here with her every time whether it's Brussels or Paris or London or Sheffield or the damn Moon. She's there.

His arm wraps around her shoulder and she guides the way with ease like she built these streets for them to walk down. She knows every curve and never leads them down the wrong way. She stops him from nearly getting hit by a bike and laughs at the little scream he lets out. Despite the gravity of where they are headed, she's smiling and joking around with him (or maybe about him) and he can't help but love every second of it. He never wants it to let up.

"When I was a baby, I got sick, some infant kind of sickness, and I was a crying baby, especially with this cold. My maman was beyond exhausted and she still had my brother to care for and my dad was working. My bomma came and the day she arrived everything cleared up. I wasn't sick anymore and I barely cried. She joked that my mother had made the whole thing up to get a visit out of her but my maman always says that I could feel the comfort of my bomma coming and I wanted to be on my best behavior. That's the relationship we always had."

Alex gazes down at her. Her eyes steady ahead but glance up at him with every passing sentence. He brushes his thumb back and forth on her head enclosed in his. "That's a great story."

"Yeah." She smiles in remembrance.

"You were very close?"

She nods. "Emotionally. Belgium wasn't too far but we always had distance and as she got older we had to travel to see her, which was mainly during holidays. Every time it was like a hug. The kind that is so warm you want to lie in their arms forever."

The cemetery is filled with trees, spring blooming in the distance. Their walk through the yard is silent. She lets go of his hand and stands before a small headstone, pulling a flower she picked from the park down on top of the stone. "When I was 5 or something, my bompa died. I don't remember much of him. He was a quiet man, especially compared to bomma. He was cremated and wanted to be tossed into this lake he fished at and we are going there and my bomma has his ashes in the little urn and she goes to pour them and the urn is empty. She keeps shaking it even though nothing is in there and she turns back to all of us, shrugs, and says, 'I knew he'd run out on me eventually.'"

She giggles so he feels permission to laugh. "What happened with his ashes?"

"Oh." Lottie laughs harder, which feels inappropriate for a cemetery but they are in a relatively secluded area. "She left it back at home. She brought the wrong urn to the funeral."

Alex chuckles and she grabs his hand. "We can go now if you'd like," she offers.

"We can stay however long you'd like." He doesn't want to rush her in any way. He can watch her stand in front of the grave and listen to her stories forever.

She shakes her head. "I'm good. I just wanted to think of her for a while. I'm ready for lunch. You need some mussels."

"Are you insulting my physique?" Alex jests, looking down at his triceps.

She laughs at him. "The food. Not the human variety."

Her feet clobber all over the street and his heart as she leads him to a restaurant. "I need to ask you something." They're going down that large hill now. It's easier than climbing it but now they have to worry about the fall.

"Yes?" She throws a smile back at him and he's losing his balance.

With his arm around her shoulder and her hand holding his hand, he asks her, "We've avoided the whole subject of boyfriends/girlfriends. You've got a fella waiting for you back home?"

She's smirking as if she could burst into laughter at any moment. "Would it change anything if I did?"

His eyebrows are raised but he's amused by her evasiveness, even if it concerns him. "Probably not. I've had my tongue down your throat."

"Ew." She squishes her nose up in this cute little wrinkled mess. It makes him want to kiss her, so he does. It's a wonder they don't trip over anything as he lays one on her. "To answer your question, no, not really."

"Not really?"

She twists out from under his arm like they're ballroom dancing. She walks backward sleekly down the hill, facing him. "I do this kind of thing in every country."

"Very funny." He chuckles but he wants an answer. "But seriously."

She returns to under his arm. "No, I haven't dated anyone since my porn-addicted boyfriend. That ended about 2 months ago and my therapist has been trying to get me back with him since then. You?"

He should have expected that, yet, he still feels that he has to let his guard down now. "That's kind of why I'm here."

"You're visiting your girlfriend?" Despite her joking about possible partners back in Paris, he feels her tense up at the idea of this.

Alex shakes his head. "No, kinda running away from it. I had a girlfriend for about a year or so and finally got to see her for an extended period since we've been long distance and right when I arrived, I got the feeling she wished it had stayed that way. She broke up with me about a week later. It's part of the reason why I'm here. Just need to have some time away from everything."

"The madness of everything?" Part of Alex thinks she knows who he is, but her eyes don't give that away. She just seems to understand what's going on in his mind.

"Yeah."

"Well," she sighs, "I'm sorry about the girlfriend."

Alex chuckles looking down on her face—looking up at him with a hidden grin. "No, you're not."

She giggles. "Duh." It's so adorable, sweet and teeth-rotting, he has to kiss her again. Teeth collide as she laughs away and they might nearly get hit by a car but it feels worth it.

Over a moules-frites and a beer each, she tells him, "I don't think I could do long distance."

Alex wipes away the remnants of beer lip. "Me and me girlfriend couldn't either. Clearly."

"I don't know why people feel such a pressure to make things work, you know. I had this boyfriend who went for a semester abroad in America and when he was there, he got an American girlfriend but still felt this need to make our relationship work even after he told me about her. I don't see it as a big deal, especially at our age. Why do we feel such a need to make relationships work? It's unrealistic to be with the same person forever, let alone at this age."

Alex shrugs. "I think we either feel a need to be like our parents or make up for our parents."

She continues her rant and he intently listens. "Exactly. I don't think things are meant to last. The greatest things have ended. But yet with relationships, even when we make mistakes, we feel the need to make it work. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes you don't have to force it."

"You feel very passionate about this kind of thing." Alex wants to make it clear he isn't mocking her. "I like it."

She rolls her eyes. "Passion is the key. Why shouldn't we go for the things that make us feel the most? I don't understand this whole 'tough it out.' Why should I deal with my porn-addict boyfriend? Why can't I just date a boy who isn't addicted to porn?"

"I don't think I have a porno issue," Alex adds.

"My therapist would not like you."

Alex tells her, "I think you should tough things out when they feel worth it. The struggle is sometimes what makes the outcome so good. When I've struggled with writing a song and then it's done, it's the accomplishment that keeps me going."

She's grinning at him. "You write songs?"

Alex is flushed red and trying to hide his head in his chest like a turtle. "Yeah, but we're not going to talk about that."

"Why not?" She's eager, he can tell, and if she really wanted to hear one, he'd play her something, but right now he wants to shield all that behind him.

"Because I don't want to tough that out." He uses her words against her. "I think the hard stuff can be worth it. That's all."

"You have a good point. I'm not getting back with my porno boyfriend though."

"Please don't." He doesn't want to sound like he's begging but he might be.

She explains further, "The impertinence of things is what makes them so wonderful in the first place, you know."

"Like some Hanging Gardens of Babylon shit?" His mouth is full of fries and he feels like he needs a kids' menu or something.

"So beautiful but we aren't even sure if it ever existed, right?"

He nods and finally swallows his chewing. "Partially. I don't think they ever found any physical evidence but they know the King of Babylon had these gardens built for his wife, who was a Persian princess or something. It was to help with her homesickness for the green forests of her home."

She chuckles. "You study this or something?"

"Read a book about it." It was actually a short article but a book sounds more impressive.

Her smile twists up and it twists his guts too. She lowers her eyes over him like she's examining him. "You're an impressive surprise."

"You don't expect me to read books?" He questions.

She shakes her head at him in disbelief. "Not about the Hanging Gardens of Babylon."

The sun has begun to set by the time they've left the restaurant, but their conversation of impertinence rings in his ears. After everything back home, he can't help but agree with her, but he can't help but panic about saying goodbye to her. He's holding tight and in no rush to let go.

They're walking slowly this time, in no rush to explore the city, instead focusing on knowing the way around one another. "Would you ever get married?" She asks him.

"You proposing?" The rush it brings to his chest is alarming.

She leans his head on his shoulder and wraps her arms around his chest. He hugs her close to him, fitting into one another completely. "Seriously. I've thought about this and I'm still not sure. I don't like the idea of marriage but I could imagine it for myself. It's a romantic idea and as much as I might not project that I'm a romantic person."

Alex points out, "You've been walking around with a complete stranger all day. That sounds like something a romantic would do."

"You're not a stranger to me anymore." It's the kiss that follows this sentence that seals it for him.

"I think I could marry someone if it felt right. I'd only want to do it once. If it didn't work out I don't think I'd give it another try," Alex confesses.

"Why not?"

"I failed at it once with someone I thought I could make it with. I wouldn't want to put that on another person again."

"What if it wasn't your fault? Like the other person did something unforgivable."

"Then, I never really knew that person. I think that's a little bit on me if I mistake a person for something they're not. That shite doesn't usually come out of nowhere."

She hums. "You're very intelligent, Alex."

He chuckles, slightly confused by the compliment. "Thanks."

"Emotionally. You don't find many men like that. At our age. Even at my parents' age." He doesn't feel like a man. So close to childish kooks and still having his mum do his laundry but she's earnestly saying it so he doesn't vocally disagree.

"I have a ticking clock in me. You can have kids at any age."

"I don't exactly have the passion to be a 70-year-old father."

She shrugs. "I don't even think I want children. They're too sticky."

A half hour or so later, they enter a sticky bar where she squeals about how cool it looks, which, in her defense, she's right. It's through this long hallway that looks like you're entering a church with stained glass windows before you enter a room that looks like Ozzy Osbourne pissed all over the place.

Gathered around a table in the corner with two drinks between them, they make out. It's not some impassioned tongue-down-each-other's-throats kind of kissing where you think the couple is about to have sex right in the middle of the bar. They're in a hidden, dark corner and it's the first time today when they haven't been in broad daylight. And, yeah, it is probably a bit sleazy looking but it feels overwhelmingly necessary for both of them to do.

"People are going to start throwing money at us," she says.

"What?"

"Like at a gentlemen's club or something," she explains.

Alex laughs and he unintentionally rubs his nose against hers and she wrinkles it up, all freckled and fucking cute. She separates them and sips her cocktail, prompting him to sip his bourbon. "Maybe I'll do that."

He snorts and the bourbon nearly drips out of his nose. "Be a stripper?"

She giggles at his reaction. "From nanny to stripper. No, I feel lost is all."

"Sometimes the best things come from being lost." Alex feels his mouth being forced to smile and he can't hide anything from her. "I was lost when I found you."

She blushes and, fuck, he's screwed. Her cheeks are pink and she's cherubic but at the same time talking about being a stripper and he wants to glue himself to this seat and watch her blush forever.

She leans forward placing her head on hand. She looks like Juliet standing on a balcony and, he supposes that makes him Romeo or at least Paris, which means he's going to die for her either way and he almost slaps himself because this isn't some Shakespearean tragedy and she's sitting right in front of him breathing, reaching her hand out for his, which he kisses the back of, which is very Shakespearean, so this might kill him.

"You make me flustered," she confesses.

It blows him away because he's 100% been the fool this whole time to this dream girl. "Seriously?"

She drops her hand from his and leans back, sipping away, keeping her glass in her hand. "Yeah, you're always saying these things and I'm stuck talking about being a stripper and rambling about my lack of direction and ex-boyfriend."

Alex wraps his arm around her shoulder and leans over to whisper in her ear. The bar is loud but he also just wants to be closer to her. "Can I tell you something?"

She motions for him to continue.

"I feel like the biggest fucking idiot talking to you. I basically feel like I'm gonna shit myself every time I open my mouth. You're very intimidating, Charlotte."

She gags at the sound of her full name. "How can I be intimidating?"

"Have you seen yourself? You're like some angel. I'm convinced there is a halo hidden under that head of hair."

She rolls her eyes and pulls away from him to face him more. "See there you go again being only Mr. Cool Guy. You do this kind of thing all the time. You know exactly how to make the girls swoon for you."

"I'm kind of interested in making only one girl swoon."

"Stop talking! It's like you're trying to kill me."

"How do you think I feel? I'm the idiot begging this beautiful French girl to help me after I stared at her the whole train ride."

She smirks. "You stared at me the whole train ride?"

He throws his head back and pinches his nose. He groans and she's laughing at him and how can you not feel like the fool when she's making him do shit like this? "I'm a major creep but I swear I'm not going to murder you."

She huffs. "Oh, how promising. Next, you're going to take me down a dark alley and I'll mysteriously disappear."

Alex hunches over the table and rubs his face. "You're making me feel worse."

She grabs both her shoulders and squeezes them. "Don't get in your head about it. It's a labyrinth in there. I'm here and you're here and I think we both know how we feel so no pressure. We don't have to ever see each other again if we find out things about the other we don't like. I don't think you're going to kill me and you shouldn't worry much about a girl who couldn't even win a thumb wrestle if her life depended on it."

Alex doesn't want to think about never seeing her again but he's done keeping his guard up and he's going to make the most of this day, even if it's the only one they spend together. "You want to thumb wrestle?"

She pulls back with a gasp. "You just want to feel like a winner. Piece of shit."

"Fine," he chuckles, "tell me a secret. What have you been hiding from me?" He hit his shoulder with hers before wrapping his arm back around her.

She toys with the ends of her hair. "Euh," she says, eyes cast away from him, and roughly bites her lip, "I left my book on the train on purpose."

Alex stares at her and suddenly everything shifts. He isn't the only fool. "Is that a technique you use? Pick up men through book leaving methods."

She giggles and finally meets his eyes, sparkling. "No, no. I had finished the book on the train and I, well, I could tell you were watching me. I'm sorry I acted like I couldn't but it made me seem like less of a sap if I didn't know. I figured if you were watching me, you'd return it, and if not I would lose the book. I'm glad I wasn't wrong."

He gazes. The entire day reframed in his mind. "You..." He isn't sure what to say. He's yielded completely but trapped thoroughly. "I can't believe it."

She smirks. "Worked out pretty good too."

"Holy shit" is all he can utter. His mouth gapes open and shut multiple times before he can even think of a thing to say. "And here I thought I was the sap."

She tilts her head back. "I'm a total maple."

"Maple?"

She explains by saying, "Maple sap."

Alex is overcome with laughter and completely dazed by her. "Can I steal that?"

She inches close to him and plays with his hand on the arm that is around her. "What's your secret?"

Alex admits he walked into that one. The unavoidable shielding he's been doing ever since he got on the train to Brussels. It's not that he's full of himself thinking she'll know him or know the band but the whole purpose, or part of it, was to get away from that part. After a year that most people wouldn't experience in a lifetime, he needed to escape himself.

"I'm sort of running away from that," he tells her.

"What? Did you kill someone?"

He awkwardly laughs. He's frazzled. Back against the wall and he sighs, it shouldn't be this big of a deal. "No, I've had this big year with me band and we're doing our second album now which is the first break we've had in a long time but it's not really a break since we're making this album. I love doing it but after the whole thing with me girlfriend, I just sort of feel like I'm not even meself anymore."

"So you went to somewhere where no one would know you," Lottie guesses.

Alex nods. "Sometimes I think the person I need to escape is me." He's been sucked into the black hole of himself. A constant loop of overthinking and ever since things ended with Johanna, he's been thinking that all he does is suck the life out of everyone else, including himself. He knows it isn't true. At least, not completely. The band is great and the guys are great but he's losing touch with everything he'd ever known. He doesn't talk about it much, not even with the guys, but he feels flipped on his head, drowned, and unable to come up for air, and the tide is only getting higher.

"It makes sense," she tells him. He looks down and she's looking back at him with those drowning blues and suddenly he's breathing again. The ocean is in her eyes and not suffocating him anymore. "The person you spend the most time with is yourself. I think I'm a horrible person most of the time but you do your best to find people who don't make you feel that way. If you're really lucky you found people that make you actually feel like a good person."

Alex pulls her closer and leans down, placing his lips close to hers, but not touching them. "You make me feel that way," he whispers.

He can see her smile, teeth like pearls in an oyster, allowing him to be whoever he wants. "You do too. For me." He kisses her. It's soft and serene and he's eager and she's eager, both tugging at one another. Her mouth tastes like cherries and he holds her face and she tugs on her lower lip. He's not going to force her to do anything more with him but he thinks she's thinking what he's thinking like they have the same mind and are joined in the ideas of one another.

She's heavy when they pull back. Red cheeks and out of breath talking. "Do you want to walk around more?"

Alex will follow wherever Lottie leads. He pays their tab and grabs her hand to walk the stone roads once more. The sky has grown dark and a light flickers outside the bar where a group of people stand smoking. The street is relatively empty, besides a few stragglers who are returning from work or couples reaching the end of dates.

He wonders if people think they are a couple. It would be an understandable assumption. They stand with their hands intertwined. Her other hand is wrapped around his elbow and her head lays on the corner of his shoulder. She seems sleepy whether from exhaustion or her drink.

They walk lazily down the street with no direction in mind, no need to end up anywhere. "I like Brussels at night," Lottie quietly says.

The night is placid and her body is warm. "Me too."

She stops them on a street corner and lifts her head. "Where were you planning on sleeping tonight?"

He's not trying to get his hopes up. Maybe this is goodbye. He doesn't think it, prays it isn't, but isn't sure of anything, except the way he feels. "I was going to look for a vacancy somewhere. You?"

Lottie tries to hide her smile. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen, like a child trying to hide a cookie they've stolen from the jar behind their back. "I wasn't planning on staying the night. I was supposed to go back to Paris about an hour ago."

Alex tries his best not to use wishful thinking but come on. "Are you going to go back tonight?"

She shakes her head.

"Do you want to—"

"Yeah."

He's not a horny person. He's not a porno addict, he's not obsessive with women's bodies, he's not thinking of sex, boobs, or ass every minute of the day but, fuck, does the blood rush south quickly.

She resumes their walking and, again, he's not trying to rush her but it takes everything in him not to bolt directly to the nearest visible hotel even if it looks like a place where sex rings are located. He holds his pace but then he feels her step quicken and he tries to not hold his breath but he's already out of it.

"Does this look fine?" She points somewhere.

"Yeah." It could be a bench. He doesn't fucking care.

It's a Hilton. Nice, clean, generic. It doesn't matter as long as it has a bed.

Lottie talks to the women at the front desk in French. He doesn't understand any of it. She hands Lottie a set of keycards and tells her, "Vous êtes dans la chambre cinq cent cinq."

Suddenly, they're heading off toward the elevators. "Did you pay for it? You didn't have to pay for it. I'm the one making you stay the night here."

Lottie presses the down button. "You're not forcing me to be here against my will."

"At least, let me pay for half," he insists.

"You can write me a check." They walk in the elevator and she presses the 5 button.

He taps his foot. He can't touch her. If he touches her right now, he'll fuck her. She's giving him bedroom eyes and a heartache and he thinks she might eat him alive and he thinks he might let her, if she's the kind of food that gives her salvation. He'll be the victim if she's the vampire.

She unlocks the door and turns on the lights. The room is basic and the sight of the one lone bed confirms everything he needs to know in his mind.

Then she turns around and says, "I'm not having sex with you."

Alex tries his best to not look disappointed and he thinks he does a decent job besides the quiver of a smile on Lottie's lips. "That's alright. I can sleep on the floor if you'd like."

A smile overwhelms her face. She's dipping into a fit of giggles before she throws her bag into the lone chair in the corner of the room. "I presume you have a condom. All men seem to have a condom in their wallet during these situations."

Alex scratches the back of his head. He tries to answer simply, "Uh, yeah." But she just told him they weren't having sex so the condom that sits in the hidden pouch of his wallet doesn't seem as useful.

"When I lost my virginity, the guy I lost it to pulled out a whole string of Trojans and threw them on my bed." She tells the story through laughter, recalling the details best as her traumatized mind will allow. "He had to have had at least 20 as if he even lasted long enough to count the first time as sex. He fell asleep about 2 minutes after."

Her giggles prompted him to tell her, "The girl I lost mine to provided the condoms because I was too nervous to buy them."

She claps her hands in delight. She's sitting on the edge of the bed. He keeps his distance, unsure of what she wants him to do. He leans against the wall, knee propped up, hands in his pockets.

"My porno boyfriend wasn't too good at sex, which is extra annoying because you'd think he'd know how to do it based on the amount he was watching."

Alex laughs and shrugs. "Isn't most porn kind of made for men anyway? It's just a woman writhing around at the slightest touches."

Her eyebrow is raised and the left side of her mouth smirks. "Have you read The Second Sex?"

"Is that some smutty novel?"

She bursts out laughing and he figures he made himself sound like an idiot. "You read romance novels?"

Alex recalls, "My friend, Matt—he's the drummer in the band—read one to us once. It talked about throbbing members a lot."

"Does your member ever throb?"

He isn't sure what she is asking him. "Have I ever gotten hard before?" He tries his best to decipher.

She ignores his question and asks, "How many girlfriends have you had?"

Alex answers, "Uh, 3, I guess. None of them really long-term until my last." She nods like she's studying him. She might as well be holding a pen and notepad in her hand and taking notes on him. "What about you?"

She avoids the question and becomes snarky. "I haven't had any girlfriends."

"Good one," he approves. "You should be a journalist. You’re very nosy."

She bends down and undoes her shoes with a smile pointed at him. "Sex is weird," she voices. "The idea of putting yourself in someone else or having someone else inside you and it being pleasurable is one of the funniest ideas I've ever heard."

He shrugs. "Why? I think being with someone, feeling so close to them, you want to be the closest you can possibly be, and that concept brings pleasure. It makes sense. I don't think sex is completely about that. The pleasure part."

"What do you think it's about?"

"The vulnerability of it. I mean, being comfortable enough with a person to be naked in front of them, let alone, allowing them to be a part of that nakedness, take part in your body. The goal is to give this other person relief. To bring them this immeasurable ecstasy." He looks down at his shoes. If he looks at her, he'll probably bust a nut. "I think it's one of the last untouchable things. I suppose until we're having sex with robots and all that."

He sighs and meets her eyes. She's blinking at him, slow and carefully, as if she's in a daze. He thinks he went on for too long and weirded her out with talks of being naked, ecstasy, and sex robots. Probably thinks he's trying to force her into something. Then, she bends down and unties her shoes. "I decided I was going to have sex with you when you said I looked like Anne-Marie Crowet. The rest has just been foreplay."

She leaves him speechless again. He isn't sure if that's the go-ahead or if she's just informing him until she stands up and takes off her dress and he's pretty sure his heart is in need of a defibrillator.

Her back is to him and the blue of her underwear is imprinted in his mind. She looks over her shoulder and teases, "Do I have to do the whole thing myself?"

He swallows a chuckle and tries his best to stand up straight. He pulls off his dirty trainers and makes his way over to her. His arms wrap around her and it's like the first time he's touching her all over again. The delicate movements he makes as if he might burn himself at the slightest touch of her.

Lottie helps him out and leans forward touching her boobs to his chest. She fiddles with the bottom of his shirt and he nods for her to pull it off of him. The lace of her bra imprints itself on his skin and he thinks it'll leave a tattoo. The roughness of the material combined with the feeling of her nipples poking into him makes the blood rush with such speed he thinks he becomes lightheaded. She's got this hungry look that kind of drives him a little crazy.

Then, her mouth is on his. It's red hot, hot and heavy, rough, but the way his hand lands on her cheeks brings a sweetness to it neither can endure thinking about for long when trains leave the station all the time and people never return.

He kisses her neck. It's right there, a stretch of soft skin begging to be touched. They stumble blindly toward the bed. The mattress bounces as they fall onto it and a squeal emits from her lips that breaks any remaining tension and makes both of them laugh, teeth clashing, both too hungry for it to pull away to breathe fully.

She sits up enough for him to undo her bra. It's thrown back, scattered with the other clothes. She urges him to remove his jeans, "It's only fair. Equal opportunity."

"I'll show you equal opportunity." He's kissing her neck then mouthing her left breasts, kissing everywhere. Every expanse of skin. She's warm, warming up every inch of him. He tries not to rub against her too much for fear he might implode as he grows harder by the millisecond. He's dizzy, drunk off her skin, drunk off her boobs, drunk off the giggle she lets out when he kisses her belly button, drunk off her.

Alex nudges her legs apart as he trails his mouth down her stomach. He kisses her clit over the fabric of those blue panties. She groans and he's in deep. His hands edge the line of the underwear but he looks up to know for sure. She gives a head nod and he drags them down her legs slowly. He wants her to feel what he's felt. This waiting, the wanting, while she's called the shots. He wants her under his thumb now.

He feels the crevices of her. Slowly, he moves his hands inward down the lines that connect her legs to the rest of her body. He touches his nose to the area above her clit, teases her, wants to please her but wants her to need it. Suddenly, her hands are in his hair, threaded through his strands, not pushing him down but urging him. He gives in then.

She tightens her hold on the strands of hair and if she were to pull any harder she might rip a few out. She lets out this noise halfway between a whine and a moan, and he feels addicted. Desperate to hear it again. She's some fucked-up form of heroin, the water after the desert, the tang of the lime after the tequila, the first flower after the kind of winter that cracks your skin.

He dives in heavier, sucks her clit, and it makes her gasp and makes him restless but he isn't going to let up. He stops and kisses her inner thigh, which only angers her as she drags his head back to her center. He laughs into her pussy and it makes her push his head down heavier. "Please."

"Please what?" He lifts his head and he thinks she might slap him.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me?"

"Fuck me," she begs and he grins, scruffy and desperate himself. He puts his fingers in her and you'd think he fed her a 3-course meal after months of only eating a shitty bag of petrol station crisps. He never considered himself to be too great at this kind of thing but she's shaking and he thinks he might be too but he's too focused on her to notice. She's crying out, coming, shaking, and breathless.

Alex wipes his mouth on his arm and kisses his way back up her body. Lottie leans up to capture his lips in a hungry, rabid kind of way, pushing him down on the bed. She snaps his waistband and he lets out a little scream, which makes her giggle, and it's a form of tit for tat. "You're annoying." She straddles him and he thumbs her hips.

"I don't know what you're referring to."

She crosses her arms. "Fine. You can sleep on the floor now."

"Only if you join me."

He leans up and kisses her and any teasing seems to have been forgotten because she reaches down and pushes off his boxers. Her fingers fumble before stroking him as if he isn't hard enough. "You've got quite the throbbing member." It's these tiny things that leave him rough and reeling and pushing any thought of never seeing her again out of his mind.

Alex pushes her over so she's on her back. He kisses her and says, "I need to get my wallet." She lets out a laugh as he goes to retrieve it. She sits up and watches him tear the packet with his teeth. Keeps watching him while he rolls it on, biting down on her lips, she pulls him close again, and touches him over it. Alex kisses her, long and good, trying to say everything he can't say out loud.

Everything becomes hazy. A mess as he enters her slowly before urgency takes over and she hooks her left leg over his hip and pushes him deep. A string of incoherent syllables fall from her lips and her brows draw together so tightly he sticks his thumb out to smooth it out. She catches his hand and kisses his palm. He hits this spot in her that forces this hitched gasp out of her and he swears he nearly cums from just that. She holds him tight, nails digging into his back. She could be drawing blood but he doesn't care. It feels good, everything feels good, electrifying, and killing. It's hard and rough and a real fuck if he's ever had one.

But it's more than that too because she keeps catching his gaze and holding it. Her arms are around his neck insisting he keeps his eyes on her, not that he'd look away, he doesn't have a choice but to take her in. She moans his name and Alex forgets for a moment that they are two bodies. He doesn't think his body belongs to him anymore. Its only purpose is to fulfill her.

He hits that spot again and she falls over the edge with a caught breath, nails digging deeper into his shoulder blades as he fucks her through it. For a moment, he's completely detached from himself, it's only her, nothing else, only her. Then, it's too much, and he's releasing into the condom and his body is on top of hers in a heaping pile of sweat-slick limbs and trembling bodies. His face is buried into the crook of her neck and he might suffocate himself.

Her arms are tight around him as if he might fly away into the night sky with a puff of smoke. He can feel her pulse race and the thought that he did that to her makes him want to already do it again. He presses his lips in the hollow of her neck and lifts his head. She brushes his hair back, all a mess in his eyes and he probably needs a haircut but who the fuck cares when her hands are running through it. "Is it always that good for you?" She whispers.

He's still out of breath as he shakes his head. "Fuck no." He doesn't want to remove himself from her but he disposes of the condom and she pees but they meet back in the middle.

The room is hot, even with the AC, it was cool when they entered but they've stunk it up with sex. She lies on top of his chest and his arms wrap around her and he has never had a girl fit so perfectly into that curve of him. As if they are curved for one another. "Best song to have sex to? Go."

He chuckles, still spent from what just happened but thinks. "I don't know like Marvin Gaye or something."

"Good answer," she approves.

"What's yours?"

"You know that Crazy Frog song." He doesn't think he's ever laughed harder in his life.

They run into an issue about a makeout session later. You see, Alex only had the one condom but is currently nursing a throbbing member, and Lottie isn't exactly cold either. "You think they sell them at the front desk?" She asks.

He throws his head back on the pillow. He can't keep making out with her because he can't go down in the hotel lobby with a raging erection. "I can't ask that poor lady at the front desk."

She bites her thumbnail in contemplation. "There's probably a store open down the street."

"Okay." He stands up and swiftly pulls on his boxers. "You can take a shower." She complained about being too hot and sweaty for about the last 20 minutes. "I'll get enough condoms to put virginity guy to shame."

She opens her mouth dramatically. "What are you planning on doing to me, Alexander?"

And, yeah, he nearly trips trying to get his jeans on after that. "I'll be back in 10 minutes tops. Do you want anything?"

She stands up on her knees on the mattress, the sheet is wrapped around her, and it's like she's trying to tempt him into a bad idea. "Oh, oh, oh!" She says excitedly. "You know those Lindt chocolates?" He nods, amused by her enthusiasm. "Get those but not the assorted kind, just the milk chocolate."

So, there he is at some grocery store, scared to buy condoms and chocolate for fear they'll talk to him in French. But the cashier is busy talking to his friend and doesn't so much as glance down at Alex or what he is scanning.

On the walk back (he thinks about running but that would probably be too dorky), Alex starts to spiral a little. Mainly at what has occurred in the past hours and the impending following hours. After their night together, what's next? A goodbye. If that's what she wants, he'll do it, but he doesn't want it that way. But is he really ready for a relationship? Let alone doing long distance again? He should probably be on his own for a while. Maybe they could be friends. Maybe this is a fond memory he'll look back at in his old age and remember the blonde angel who took hold of his hand and he never wanted to drop it. Suddenly, he thinks he'll be a single lone loser who doesn't find anything or anyone better than what he has and is forced to reminisce on a lost time. Or worse, he'll be with someone, but constantly thinking about what could have been.

He shakes the thoughts out of him and returns to the hotel. It's close to midnight and the lobby is empty except for the front desk which he gives a weak "Bonjour" to. The ride up the elevator is excruciating. Now that he is no longer spiraling, he's just thinking about her, naked. He fumbles putting the keycard through the slot and nearly drops the chocolates but he pops open the door.

And there she is. Naked, freshly showered with damp hair, lying on her side with her hands between her thighs. It's like she's shot him, he almost stumbles back, the sight is so holy, and he's so unworthy.

"Do you enjoy killing men?" He asks her. She smiles, giggles, and it pierces him completely. A force moving through him. She starts to sit up slowly and he quickly yells, "No, no, no, don't move!"

She lays back down pleased. "You bossing me around?"

The chocolates and condoms hanging at his side and his mouth almost hangs open. "Just want to take in the sight." And he tries his best to memorize every curve of her, the way her hand dances up her side, and how his heart is thumping away.

"At my museum, you're allowed to touch the art," she jokes.

Alex can't wait much longer anyway. He's fast. Rips open the box of condoms, takes a packet out, pulls his jeans and shirt off before toppling all over her. It's a laughing mess but soon their lips are connected and she's urging his boxers off of him. She ends up on her back, knees at his ribs, and his body braces above hers. Alex cradles the back of her head, pulling at her hair, and swallowing all her noises, those hitches, those gasps. He loves them, loves her, he's going to miss her like hell. He can't help fucking her as if he'll never get to do it again because he might not ever do it again (besides any later rounds they might have tonight). It has to be good, perfect, flawless.

She flips them over and moves down him, kissing every few inches. His hands thread through her hair. She's teasing him like he did to her and he could let her do it but he swears he'll lose it if she kisses her stomach again. He lifts her head off of him and she seems to get the message as he fists her hair into a makeshift ponytail. She takes him in her mouth, licks him like a lollipop up the sides, and he wants to be careful with her but he can't be gentle when he's dying for it. "Come on, don't make me beg."

She lifts her head with a raised eyebrow and he groans in discomfort. "Would you?"

He thumbs her lip and she kisses it faintly. "You know I would."

She takes him all the way in. She puts a quick, great effort into taking him completely in her mouth. Her nose brushes up against his hair before pulling back slowly. She begins to bob her head, working away at him that has him muttering, "Holy shit. Fuck." His eyes stay trained on her, even if he can't help but flutter. The sight itself is enough to make him shoot a load, let alone the actual feeling of her doing it.

Right as he's about to, she lifts her head up off of him and says, "You know, we could have done all this without the condoms right."

He's antsy, needs to grab onto something, he settles for fisting her hair. He laughs at her teasing but groans and bucks his hips up like come on, finish the job. She gets the message. Works away desperately. She wants him to cum almost as badly as he wants to. She takes him down all the way again and he goes then, right down her throat. She doesn't move, doesn't choke, swallows everything, and, fuck, he could cum again just from that.

He's panting, in dire need of air but never needing it again if she's doing things like that. She wipes her mouth and giggles at his reaction. Pleased with herself, the way she puffs her chest out shows that.

She takes the condom he's been holding this whole time out of his hand. "Did we really need this?"

Alex hooks his arm around her neck. "Yeah." He forces her onto his back, kissing her. It doesn't take much to work him up again and he brushes his fingers through her pussy and she's drenched and like that, he's ready to go again or he'll make himself ready to go again. He wraps himself up and rubs himself through her, has her writhing, has her moaning, has her clawing away at him.

When he enters her again, her voice gets raspy as he moans, "Alex." She kisses his neck and shoulder, and bites down in a vain effort to keep quiet before uttering, "Yes," and he's hungry for her to do it again. Snaps his hips into her quickly causing her eyes to flutter shut. His hand thumbs her clit and she pulls on him tighter. Her legs wrap around his hips and she tries to move closer to him as if it is humanly possible.

He flicks her clit again and he never considered himself to be amazing at sex but she makes him want to be the best and she's moaning like he might be. He tries to make it last, doesn't want it to end. He pulls out almost all the way before snapping his hips forward to get her moaning. Her fingers curl around the sheets, then around his hair. His hand grazes up her, memorizing. He's deep in her, both physically and emotionally. "Fuck," she groans. He tries to be slow, but she urges quickness before ordering, "Harder." He listens, bucking into her and she's melting away unable to focus on anything. His own pleasure is secondary. He hasn't even thought about his orgasm. He needs her to finish.

Their skin is coated with a sheen of sweat and he kisses away at hers. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into her tightly. It's enough to choke the light out of him but he doesn't mind because she's panting and unarticulately moaning before she's coming. Their pattern becomes messy before she sends him over the edge.

She tries to catch her breath and relinquishes her hold on Alex. "Holy shit," she whispers weakly.

Alex hums in concurrence. He runs his fingers down her sides to make her shiver—a quiver comes from her lips.

"Hi there," she says. Something in him swells. He pulls her by the waist and she yelps a little, surprised, and then bites down on a grin. Reaches up to push his hair from his face and she's cracked him open like an egg and now he's just spilling out. His eyes fall shut and he wraps her up in his arms, indolent from exertion, nuzzling her nose to his.

She sighs heavily and they're stuck in the post-sex silent glow. Absorbed with one another and nothing else. Much like the rest of the day. "Are you sick of me yet?" Alex jokingly asks her. He isn't sure of himself on many things but he's sure of this. She must be feeling everything he's feeling. She has to, right?

She sits atop his chest. "Never."

He pets his hand down her now unruly hair. It gives him intense pleasure to know he did that. She dances her fingers around his body, waist to shoulder. "What's sex in French?"

She smirks, returning to their old translation game. "Sex is sex. I mean, there's faire l'amour, which is make love."

"Faire l'amour," he repeats.

"There's se branler."

"Se branler."

"Which means to jerk off."

He pulls an offended face. "I just had sex with you. I'm not jerking anything off."

She giggles. "Fine, baise-moi," she offers.

"Baise-moi."

"Fuck me."

He laughs. "I'm not that quick."

"J'ai envie de toi," she says. "I want you." She curls into him. Her hair soft and arms tight.

The impending morning hangs over their heads like an anvil. "Are we ever going to see each other again?" He asks.

They aren't looking at each other anymore. She breaks eye contact with him to stare at the ceiling and his eyes soon follow to do the same. "I don't know. I have to be back tomorrow."

"Me too," Alex says. His thumb grazes back and forth on the corner of her shoulder.

"I don't want to do long distance," she confesses. "It always fades away. You know, two people say they'll keep in touch but that's never true. You send a few texts but then you're missing each other's calls and it's a mess. I don't want to do that with you."

"Me either," he agrees. He doesn't want to repeat history and he doesn't want to do that with someone like her. Someone who he's never felt this way before.

"If this was it, would you be okay with that?" She asks.

His head is screaming No, no I wouldn't be okay with that, screw those kids, stay with me. But he's not going to lose himself in fantasy so he nods. "If that's what you want."

She averts her eyes. She looks unsure of herself but doesn't say anything and tucks herself into him. "I don't know what I want."

He kisses the top of her head. "That's okay."

In the morning, those blinds they never closed allow the Sun to wake them up. Their limbs are thrown about around the other. Her eyes flutter and it's like a butterfly taking flight as she exposes those blues. She looks at him and starts laughing. Her hand drags across the side of his face. "You have lines all over your face."

He perks up at the sight of her and that laugh. "That means I had a good sleep."

She bites a grin. "I had a good sleep too." If you can call it that. They weren't paying the closest eye on time but he doesn't exactly feel like he slept for 8 hours straight. She leans up and kisses across his face and it's an eruption of giggles.

There's a feeling in the air that they might do it again but then her eyes catch something and she falls back. She bites her thumb, which he can tell is a habit when she doesn't want to say something. She exhales roughly. "I have to go now if I'm going make it back in time."

Alex can't say more than an "Okay."

She redressed and, soon after, he does too. There isn't much romance to the whole thing. Soon, they're making their way to the station. Not many words are spoken but halfway through the walk, she leans her head on his shoulder, and he thinks he might cry.

Her train leaves at 9:45, his at 10:15. It's 9:35. There are no words spoken but he follows her onto the platform in silent understanding. Her train is already there, taunting them.

She grabs both his hands and places them on her waist. She rubs her hands over his elbows. The station is full of noise but silence echoes. Then, she says, "I don't want to never see you again."

He lets out a breath, feeling air enter his lungs again. He leans his forehead down to hers. "I don't want that either."

She kisses him tight in a quick motion. She presses herself up against him completely and he holds her against him in the same manner, the finality of it rattling around them.

"Come to London," he wishes aloud.

She pauses any movement, breaths caught in her throat. She's stiff and unmoveable before shaking her head. "I can't do that."

He has to. He has to. He has to. "Yes, come on. You hate your job. You want to find a future. Find it in London."

"I like my life. I have friends—"

"You have friends in London," he recalls. "Come on, Lottie. Doesn't have to be forever." He's begging. He sounds pathetic, he must, but, my god, if she can get him to get on his train, then any begging is worth it.

Her eyes are filled with tears and the knife twists within him. She takes a deep breath. Then, perks up, and excitedly says, "What if—what if I visit in a couple of weeks? I'll sort everything out and then I'll visit."

He feels like someone punches him. "We'll be back on the road soon."

She deflates and her train is honking away. This can't be it. Both are thinking it.

Alex gets one last idea. "I'll be in Paris. In July. My band we're gonna be touring here. Come to the show."

She grabs a hold of him like he might float away. And he just might. "In July?"

"Yes," Alex confirms. "Arctic Monkeys is the name of the band. I'll reimburse you for the ticket and all that." He tries to end on a lighthearted note but the weight hangs heavy.

She smiles and kisses him. “Okay, I'll see you in July.”

Alex kisses her again. He has to savour it. Hold it completely in his hands, hold her, memorize the way she moves her lips against his. Last call for the train is shouted out and says, "See ya in July." He smiles hopefully and she returns it.

She goes to get on the train but turns back quickly. Kissing him tightly, hard, passionately, firework-erupting finale. "Have a good ride back and a good tour, Alex."

"You too, Lottie." It takes her laughing to realize his mistake. He slaps his forehead, which endears her completely as if she could be endeared anymore.

She squeezes his hand firmly. "I'll try my best." She steps aboard and gives him a final look before dropping his hand.

He lets it swing at his side. Watches her pick a window seat. Each party waves goodbye before the train pulls out of the station. Alex stands there for a moment. He can't think about it for too long. He'll be doing that the whole train ride. Every day until July. Every day after July. Until.

Alex catches his train back to London and he'll wait for her. And then wait some more.