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#but season four really feels like the start of her taking some of that for herself
A picture-Perfect Hello.
Spencer Reid picture-perfect.
Spencer Reid had no idea when he came home from a long case that his new neighbor would be the love of his life. And together they would create the picture-perfect life.
A four-part series.
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Warning Contains spoilers for Season 13 as well as Season 12. Post prison Spencer Reid.
Ages 18 and over. Contains oral sex. Penetrative sex. Reader on birth control pills.
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Spencer came home from a long case. A six Day one to be exact. He was surprised to see a pile of boxes sitting in the hallway in front of an apartment building that he assumed was still to be empty when he came back home. It's not that he didn't want new neighbors. He just didn't expect there to be any, given that that apartment has been vacant for the past seven months.
he was So exhausted from the trip back home that he really just wanted to go to sleep. But he knows that that would be rude not to even try to offer Any help to his new neighbor. So he unlocked his door and put his satchel inside. Going over to the refrigerator to grab something to drink, leaving the front door open So he could see if the new neighbor passed by. After a few minutes, he decided to shut the front door and go stand out in the hall. He made it to the front of his sofa before he saw a pile of boxes walking by his door.
"Oh, here, let me help you" he said, running out of his door.
" Oh my gosh, thank you so much that this so kind of you." He heard a woman's voice coming from behind the pile of boxes.
" Sure, no problem. Let me just grab these" he said, pulling two boxes off the top of the pile.
Spencer couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the woman that was behind the box. a Brunette with Short hair. And blue eyes.
" Hello" he managed to get out. " My name is Spencer, Spencer Reid. I live in this apartment right here". He told her, using his thumb to point back at the door.
" Hello my name is y/n It's so nice to meet you. I didn't know if anybody lived in this apartment. I've been moving in for the past two days and I haven't seen you."
" I was at work. I.. I'm, I'm an FBI agent, so I wasn't home for six days."
" Ohh wow. An FBI agent? That must be really exciting."
" It can be. It has its moments that it's exciting. Yes, I, you know, I I definitely enjoy the work that I do, putting away the bad guys and all that. Definitely rewarding, yes. Kind of tiring though as well if I'm being honest. But still, it's.. it's really nice work." Spencer began to ramble.
" Would you like to come in and put those boxes down?"
" Boxes? Ohh yes yes. But I would love to put the boxes down" Spencer answered, not even realizing anymore that he was holding boxes.
" Just try to find a place to put them down at. I'm sorry I haven't really officially moved in yet. I'm staying with a friend of mine while I get everything out of my dirtbag ex boyfriend's apartment." She explained to Spencer she was waving her finger around the room with her other hand on her hip.
"Oh, sure, no problem. It it's going to take some time to move in. I'm sorry about your boyfriend."
" Oh, don't be. He was a lousy piece of crap that wasn't even any good in bed. I mean, it is seriously Exhausting having to fake orgasms all the time. It would have been nice if I could have had a real one during the two years we were together." She huffed out angrily.
Spencer's face must have lost all color or the opposite turned as red as a strawberry when she was saying this. As she stopped right in her tracks and they started apologizing.
" Oh my God, I am so sorry. I don't know why I said that. I mean, I just met you like what, 5 minutes ago if that. And here I am already talking like this. Please forgive me. I understand if you don't want to help me bring in any more boxes and if you want to pretend that I don't even live here, I completely understand. Have a tendency to over share my feelings when I'm angry and Needless to say, I'm angry."
" no need to apologize. I understand you being angry and you know, I hear a lot of stuff being an FBI agent. Plus I do have three women on our team, so, you know, I I hear things."
"Wow. Three women on your team. That's impressive. I just assumed that the FBI thought that that was men's work. You know? Good to see that we're making a little progress in the world."
" Ohh no. The FBI is full of women. You really have made a lot of progress in the work world. You know, it's been statistically proven that women are more effective at catching serial killers than men in some cases." He Explained to her.
" Really? well. I guess if you piss us off enough, we'll hunt you down."
" I guess you could say that, yes. Uh, there's three agents that I work with that are women. And then there's our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. She's wonderful as well."
" Well, that's good. Got to get rid of those bad guys, right? And bad ladies, I'm sure as well."
"Yep" He said, rocking back and forth from his toes to his heels. Kind of uncomfortable now that the conversation has ended.
" So do you have more boxes you need me to help you bring in or?" He asked, waving his hands around nervously.
" Yes, I do. I have five more boxes out in the car."
" OK, well here let me help you with that."
"So does you being an agent mean that I'm not going to see you much? Because that would be really sad. I think you're really cute. And you obviously are smart."
"OH no. I'm home when I can be most of the time. And if I'm not home or out on a case, I spent a lot of time on a jet too. You know, going to the crime scenes. It's a lot easier for me when it's local because then I get to come back home. It gets a little tiring having to be in hotels all the time. Sometimes it's really nice to just come home to the comfort of your own apartment and bed, you know?"
"It is."
After Spencer helped her bring in the rest of her boxes, she went over to a box marked kitchen and pulled out a coffee pot.
" Would you like some coffee? I love coffee and I can't live without it." Asked, holding up her pink coffee maker.
" Really. I love coffee too. Yes, I.. I.. I would love some. My friends always put me down. Well, my my coworkers. But they're like my friends. Actually. They're like my family. They make fun of me sometimes for loving coffee so much."
" Why would they Make fun of you for that?. Oh well. Between you and me, we could probably empty out the entire state of coffee beans."
" Yeah, we probably could." He said with a big grin on his face.
" So how long have you lived here?" She asked him.
" 14 years."
"Wow, 14 years. That's amazing. Must be really nice here. Well, for the amount of time that you hear, I guess you couldn't really judge."
" Well, I've been here long enough, yeah, to know that. That's. It really is nice. Yeah, but you're right, the amount of time that I'm actually here for. Really can't judge, but sometimes I am here for a week at a time."
She walks into the kitchen and plugs in the coffee pot.
" I know exactly where my coffee beans are. They're in that box over there marked coffee."
" Spencer Looks over at the box. "Ohh here let me get it for you."
" Thank you. You're such a gentleman. I mean, not only helping me move in, but also helping me make coffee. You'll find mugs in that same box, by the way."
When Spencer opens the box, he sees 5 bags of coffee and seven mugs.
" Ohh wow my friend Penelope. She would love your mugs. She's the queen of coffee mugs. Although in her case sometimes it's also hot tea, so mugs in general."
" I think I'd really get along with this, Penelope."
" She is wonderful." Spencer tells her where the chuckle.
Spencer hands her a bag of coffee, a pack of coffee filters and two mugs. A pink mug with a rainbow on it and a black mug that says I love coffee.
" I think this will be my favorite mug" he told her, holding up the one that says I love coffee.
" Well then, we will make that your special mug for when you come over, and that is if you want to ever come back."
" I want to come back. I I look forward to it."
Spencer Reid being a man of science, never really believed in love at first sight. But there's something about her he feels that he could spend the rest of his life with, even though he's only known her for about an hour tops at this point.
"You know, if you come back tomorrow, I have been known to make some pretty good muffins. By then I should be able to find my baking stuff. But that is only if you would like to. I understand. If you don't want to, it's. Completely understandable."
" No, not at all. I would love to come over. Muffins sound really good. Muffins and coffee? That's. That's really good. Yeah." He said with a chuckle, so happy that she would like for him to come back.
" OK then uh 8:00 be OK?"
" That'd be great. I don't start teaching until 10:00, so. 8:00 would be good."
" I thought you were an FBI agent".
"Ohh. Well, yeah, I ...I am. I am an FBI agent. But I also teach sometimes because I'm not Fully on the team at the moment, but that's a that's a long story for. Another time so". Spencer said nervously. What was she going to think if she asked him why he wasn't on the team full time? What if she doesn't like that he was in prison even though he didn't really commit the crime he was arrested for?
" OK, well, another time it is."
" So I can be here at 8:00." Spencer asked, wringing his hands.
" Unless 7:30 would be better for you."
" 7:30 would be great. That would be great. That would give me half hour more to be able to get ready to go and teach my class."
" OK, 7:30 it is. I should already be started by the muffins, by then"
" Great" Spencer said.
" Do you take your coffee?"
"Black with sugar." Spencer answered, placing the two Mugs next to the coffee maker that was just about done.
" Black with sugar, You got it."
There was a little bit of awkward silence as the coffee finished brewing. Before y/n Poured 2 mugs of it, adding the sugar into both mugs and going over to the refrigerator to get some Creamer.
" I know it's strange. I already have Creamer in my refrigerator, but says I said I've been moving in for a few days, so I don't really know why I have Creamer in my refrigerator. Didn't even have my coffee maker yet, but I'm a weird one. "
" Not at all. " Spencer said.
After the coffees had been made, the two of them sat down at her little kitchen table.
" You know, this table was actually left behind from the previous renter. I don't know why, but hey, I was happy to have it. " y/n said.
" Yes, well left behind furniture is always good. Unfortunately, nothing came with my apartment. "
" Wow. Usually somebody leaves something behind. " she says taking a sip of coffee.
" So can I ask what you do? Or do you not have a job yet in between jobs?"
" Ohh yes, I'm a Blogger."
" Spencer said, not really knowing what that was.
"Do you know what that is?" She asked him. Putting down her mug.
"No, not really. I'm sorry."
"No problem. I have a blog. It's a computer thing. It's on the Internet. It's a page Where I show you how to do things like highlight your hair and things I used to do. I also show a lot of cooking things, like how to make the muffins I'm going to make tomorrow, along with other things that I make."
" Oh, so you teach people how to do things via the Internet?"
" Yes, exactly."
" Ohh like life's important things like faking orgasms." He said with a chuckle as he took his first sip of coffee.
y/n Almost spit her coffee out at his response.
" Yes, exactly. I I really did do one of those. It was my most popular video to date, actually." She told him, laughing.
" Well, at least you're helping people with the important things in the world. Ohh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I really need to be getting to work. Umm, so I can come back tomorrow, right?"
"Absolutely. I look forward to it."
After Spencer went to teach another class, knowing that people really weren't going to be paying him any attention anyway. He was just kind of going through the motions. His mind, even though he was trying to teach about serial killers, just kept going back to His beautiful new neighbor and how he couldn't wait to get back to her apartment tomorrow.
Once class was over and he stopped at the grocery store to pick up something for him to eat for dinner. He went back home. He was so tempted to knock on his neighbor's door to see how she was doing. Or really just to see her face again. To ask her if she would like to come over and share his dinner, but he didn't want to be too forward, she said. I'll see you tomorrow morning, so tomorrow morning it would be.
He ate his dinner, took his shower, got in his pajamas, brushed his teeth and went to bed. Unfortunately though, for Spencer, sleep did not come easily to him. He just kept thinking about the beautiful woman next door. But was she doing? Was she sleeping? Was she lying awake, thinking about him, The way he was laying awake? Thinking about her?
He really needs to stop these Thoughts that are running through his head and try to get some sleep morning would come soon enough and he would be at her front door again, tapping on the wood, waiting to get inside.
Eventually, morning came and he did just the thing that he said he was going to do, ran out his front door before smoothening out any wrinkles that may be on his sweater. Before knocking lightly on her wooden front door.
" I'm coming, he heard being shouted from The other side of the door. He waited for a few seconds before he heard the deadbolt on lock the door opening, revealing the woman that he's awaiting all night to see. Wearing a light pink tank top and a purple apron. That had some baking flour stuck to it.
In all honesty, she was so beautiful and the fact that she was making muffins for him, it took all he had not to drop to one knee right now and ask her to marry him. It wasn't just because she would serve him muffins. It was because no one was willing to make anything like this for Spencer and his entire life. And even though he had only met this woman one day prior, he knew he was in love with her. He knew that this was the woman that he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.
" Hi, come on in. I'm so sorry I had to run to the store. So I'm a little bit later making the muffins and I thought I was going to be. I didn't have any flower. I forgot that I threw it at my ex when he told me that he didn't need my cooking anymore. It was juvenile, I know. But it was in the heat of the moment. So I just threw it at him."
" Oh, wow. OK, no problem. Take your time. If if you don't have the time to make the muffins right now, it's OK. I can come back tomorrow."
" Ohh no no, she cut him off. I have the flour, I'm just measuring it out now."
"OK, sure, can I help you make the muffins? I've never really baked anything before."
" Really. You would like to help me make muffins? OH my gosh yes. Thank you so much. I would love for you to do that. You know my boyfriend Will, my ex sorry-ass boyfriend never would have offered to help cook with me. He thought that cooking and baking was stupid and that it was just. Useless hobby."
" Well, that's not nice. Baking is a wonderful hobby. Cooking. We all need to eat to survive, right? So he didn't have any right to pick on you for that. I'm so sorry that he was like that to you. I promise I will never be that way to you. I mean, not that we're a couple. You know, I'm not presuming that you would want to be in a relationship with me. I'm just saying if it should ever come to that, I wouldn't be that kind of boyfriend. I'd be loving and supportive and help you with anything that you wanted." He began rambling.
" That would be wonderful, you know, if we ended up being together and cooked together, married one day. Just think. We would tell our children how we met and they would think it was so sweet."
Now Spencer's mind was really racing again. She's considering a life with him. She's actually thinking about a life with him and having children with him and telling them about how they met one day.
" Spencer?" He heard her saying.
"yes?" he answered.
" Would you like to come into the kitchen and help me?"
"Oh, Oh my gosh. Yes, yes, I would love to. OK, umm, So what do you need me to do?"
" Well, unfortunately I don't have a spare apron. And if you're planning on wearing this Sweater. You may not want to mess with the flour, but you can wash off the blueberries for me.
"Oh yes, of course." Spencer said, opening up the pints of blueberries and pouring them into a pink strainer to wash them off.
" I'm so sorry that you have to wait longer for the muffins because I forgot to get flour.
" It's OK. I'm actually happy that it happened because now I get to be a part of the muffin making process." Her as he finished straining the rest of the water off of the blueberries.
" That's so sweet, you can take and dump them into the bowl right there with the sugar."
The two of them stood side-by-side preparing muffin batter.
Before placing the batter into baking cups and putting them in the oven. y/n Pouring some coffee for them while they wait.
" So how did you sleep last night?" She asked, putting the two mugs of coffee down.
How did I sleep? OH my gosh how can I tell her that I couldn't sleep? Because all I could think about was her. How much I wanted to come back over here and see her. How I know she's the love of my life. How can I tell her that without her thinking that I'm crazy? Spencer thought to himself.
" I slept rather well, thank you." He told her he feels so bad about lying to her, but how can he tell her about his true feelings without scaring her away?
Once the muffins were done and they started eating them, it was the most delicious blueberry muffin Spencer had ever had.
" These are incredible" he told her before stuffing and other piece into his mouth.
" Thank you so much. I'm so glad that you like them. You know, I also make coffee cakes and strudels and stuff like that, so, you know, I could keep feeding you if you're interested."
If Spencer could have his way, he would make breakfast with her every day for the rest of his life.
" I would like that. he told her with a smile.
The next two weeks went on like this, meeting every day. Went to teach, unfortunately his teacher. Come to an end and he was forced to go back to the station.
" I'm back on FBI time now, so I may be gone for a little while. I'll let you know if I have a case. That way you don't start making something for me and I'm not here to get it." Told her, looking down at his thumbs that he was twiddling.
" OK, well, I'm going to miss you if you have a case, but I have a lot of muffins leftover. Would your team like some?" She asked him.
" I I think they would, yes, they're amazing. And if they don't want them, well, I'll gladly eat them."
" OK, great. I'll pack some up for you."
Spencer reluctantly left her apartment to go to the station, carrying with him a large basket of blueberry muffins. They placed them on the table of the round table room.
Luke came into the room and saw the basket of muffins along with Spencer sitting in his usual chair.
" Hey, welcome back Reid" Luke said to him.
" Hey, Luke. Thanks. It's nice to be back."
" Muffins. Are those for anybody or are they just for you?" Luke asked.
" There For anyone. My new neighbor Likes to bake, so she sent me to work with some muffins for you guys."
" She Ohh. I'm I'm not prying just is she someone that You might be interested in. I'm. I'm not meaning to pry. I just. I worry about you. You know, you go back to your apartment all by yourself and you don't really get any visitors. It would just be nice for you to have someone."
" I really like her, Luke. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know how to tell her. You know, I know that I'm the age that I am, but I don't have much experience with women. The only girlfriend long term that I really had got murdered in front of me. So I don't know how to talk to women." Spencer said sadly.
" Well reid. I can honestly tell you if a woman is willing to make you muffin's. And allow you into her apartment, I'm assuming."
" She did. I helped her move in."
" Then yes, she likes you." Luke told him before taking a bite of muffin.
" Really?" Spencer asked.
" Yes, really. And if she makes muffins like this my God man, go back home now and ask her to marry you. These are delicious."
Unfortunately for Spencer, he was going to have to wait to see his ladylove again. he had to go away on a case. The next three months' time continued to go this way. He would be home for a day or two enjoying the baked Goods with Her before having to go away on another case. They really didn't get to spend much time together anymore. They were both afraid that the feelings that they had for each other would fizzle away. But maybe, just maybe, people were right. Time apart does make the heart grow fonder. It left them both wondering though. Feel this way about each other. They're just neighbors, and they've never even kissed. Just enjoying talking about things over coffee and baked goods that Spencer often helped make. He really enjoyed the baking process and the fact that it gave him more time to spend with y/n but all of that changed quickly after Spencer finally had some time off since he was teaching again. So she invited him to come over and watch a movie. That was for the best, considering that Spencer really didn't have any movies that weren't foreign films.
"She picked (your favorite movie) To watch She Thought that Spencer would really enjoy it.
" I can't believe you've never seen this movie. I've seen it about 1000 times and can say just about every line with it". She told him.
" Well, I haven't seen very many movies that aren't in foreign languages, so this will be a fun to experience for me."
That night was a turning point in their relationship. As they sat on the sofa together, they realized neither one of them was really interested in the movie. They were more interested in each other. They've been away from each other for too long, and tonight was the night they were finally going to kiss.
However, Spencer Reid being amazing at everything was also in the world's greatest kisser. We've got turned on so much by the kissing that it wasn't long before Spencer was asking against her lips. "Can we take this to the bedroom?"
y/n Moaned a Yes, against his lips.
If Spencer picked her up off the couch and carried her into her bedroom, he knew exactly where it was. Not because he's been to her apartment so many times, but because the layout of her apartment was exactly the same as his own. Before he knew it, he was peeling off her clothes and kissing her passionately.
Shouldn't she was doing the same to him with the same urgency.
However, before Spencer removed her underwear. He asked if it was OK for him to do so.
y/n Couldn't get the word "yes" out fast enough. As soon as she was bare to him, he looked up into her eyes to make sure that She was OK with what he was about to do.
She panted out a yes before he licked right up her center. Causing her to moan out his name. Something that, if he was being honest with himself, was something that he was dying to hear over the past 3 1/2 months.
He took his time with her, loving the way that her fingers felt running through his hair. After he gave her two mind-blowing orgasms, he couldn't wait anymore. He needed to be inside of her. 
"Do you have any protection?" He asked her, praying to the gods, anyone of them that she would have something. 
"I'm on the pill and I'm clean". She panted out
 the smile on his face, almost taking up his entire face at this point. 
"Good" he panted out. Before slowly pushing inside of her. They both moaned out at the feeling. Something that they were both longing for, for so long. As he slowly moved inside of her, his fingers intertwining with hers.
The only sounds in the apartment at this point was the sounds of their moans and lips smacking.
" Where do you want me?" Spencer asked y/n Feeling that he was close told him.
" Inside, inside Spencer, I want to feel all of you."
And be more thrilled at these words. They both orgasm together and it was like pure heaven.
Spencer helped her ride out her high, and as he did, he couldn't help but stare into her eyes, seeing how beautiful she is.
Spencer eventually had to pull out. So sad for both of them since they both waited for so long. Both of them hoping that it would happen again.
They laid in her bed. Spencer's arms, holding her tightly to his body.
" Are you sorry that it happened?" Spencer asked sadly. As y/n Hasn't said anything since they orgasmed.
" No, not at all. Are you?" She asked with full of worry.
" No, absolutely not. I was worried that you were going to be sorry. I mean, it's been silence for a little bit." Spencer said with a gulp.
" No, I'm so happy that it happened. I waited for so long, you know, Honestly, I wanted you from the very first time I saw you, but I didn't want you to think that I was Trashy." She told him, running her hand up and down his bare chest.
" I would never think that, and honestly, I was the same way about you." Spencer told her with a smile.
"Who would have ever thought that me walking by with a stack of boxes would have led to this? that just a simple hello would have led to where we are today."
" I know. I guess you could say it was a picture-Perfect Hello." Spencer said before kissing her again.
Thank you so much for reading. Comments will be greatly appreciated and I look forward to writing the rest of this story. there should be another chapter out by the summer.
@thebloomingeagle
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strangerwheelerthings · 3 months
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I don't know if it's because it's been too long since I last watched Stranger Things, but I genuinely don't remember a happy Nancy scene post Barb...
This is such an interesting thing to think about because it's not as if Nancy looks miserable in most scenes of the show. In fact, she often looks determined and occasionally excited even. She has smiled before, but excitement about progress in a case, something she's passionate about because of Barb, isn't necessarily happiness. So this is something you have to look beyond face value for.
Nancy suffers quite plainly with survivors guilt and with a lot of trauma. She isn't healed from what happened in Season One, and I don't think she even let herself really start until after season three. Not with so much unresolved. She also hasn't had the help she really needs either. However, Nancy has experienced happiness since Barb's death. There are moments she forgets. It’s only healthy that she's not so obessively mired in her misery that she can't have moments to breathe.
It's been a while since I've watched the show, too, so I can't say if there's a Jancy scene where she's just happy. Their get-together scene was very in the middle of Barb trauma, the wake up together scene is very stressed and rushed. Jonathan has been good to her, but all their scenes are a very mixed bag of emotions with happiness not really being the predominant one.
There are three small scenes from season four that come to mind. The first is Lucas's game. Nancy is quite genuinely proud and happy for Lucas in that moment of success. It's such a small shot, but it's one of a few scenes that show us that Nancy cares a whole lot more about Mike’s friends than she ever says.
The second is the scene with the dog, right before the plot plummets Nancy right back into her guilt complex. She's starting to live, and she lets herself be, for just a second, when she steps away from a murder investigation to just play with a dog. This is the first real evidence that her passion for her work is not just about Barb anymore.
The last scene is the officially friends scene with Robin. It's simply a moment of establishing connection, and both girls are just so warm in that moment. It's another sign of Nancy starting to actually heal. She's happy to have a new girl friend, not scared or guilty like she would have been before.
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missnxthingg · 2 months
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I CAN'T LIE TO YOU ✮ LN4
pairing: Lando Norris x bestie!Reader (childhood best friends to lovers) summary: Lando Norris decides to surprise his best friend after being a long time away from home. What she didn't expect was that he had a big secret that he couldn't share with her words: 4.5K - warnings: swearing, suggestive content & not proof read author's notes: I'm back once again! Now you just know I'm a sucker for childhood besties to lovers. Also, I may have already started writing a part two for this one... let me know if you want it!
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The days in England have become more boring with time. Y/N was losing her mind over the repetitive routine that follows the life of a college student. Work, study, beer with close friends and bed. So when her mother invited her for a family dinner, she worried about how excited she got with the event. It wasn’t supposed to be anything special, just her parents and a few of their close friends gathered to catch up over nice food. 
Coming home felt way too good. It’s a feeling most college students get when they go back to their hometown, leaving their crappy flat in university to be served with their parents pampering during their quick visit. Y/N was supposed to be back to her place in just a couple of days, but she felt satisfied to be in a different place than the four walls of her house. Not to mention that she was having a good laugh with everyone at the table.
Her mother always takes dinner parties to another level, serving the best food in her special crockery, saved for moments like this. So Y/N packed a nice new outfit; a cute long-sleeved dress that looked perfect with tights and heels. Not that the guests cared about how she was dressed, but it felt nice to look beautiful and all put together for once after months of hoodies and leggings.
As usual, her parents invited the Norris family, as they’ve been the best of friends for the longest time. Not only they lived next to each other for years back when she was younger, all of their kids were really close friends with Y/N. But the spotlight always goes to Lando, who is the same age as her, making them grow up attached to the hip.
They all grew up going to the same school, not to mention that she would always tag along in Lando and his brother’s karting sessions, having the best time watching them drive flawlessly on tracks. He always enjoyed the times when she’d steal her parents cameras so they could make some homemade videos of their time together. Or when they would sit back, watch their dads play golf every Saturday and share candies in the cart. 
  Y/N and Lando have been inseparable since the age of four, growing up side by side, going through everything together. She was so important to him that, when he joined Formula 1 and had to choose a number to race, he chose the age the two of them had become friends. 
“The number four is for my best friend, Y/N. She was the one to suggest it, and the meaning behind it is very cute. Actually, I don’t want to tell you to not spoil anything, but I can only say that it’s very dear to my heart”, Lando said once in an interview during his second season in F1, making every single one of his fans curious about the meaning.
But it’s been a while since the infamous duo had been together. They supported each other from afar; Y/N sometimes joining him for race weekends and Lando coming back to see her on birthdays and weekends in London, while he visited the McLaren factory. But the last time they had been together was four months ago, during summer break, when he dragged her to join him for his crazy trips around the world. When racing and university was back on, they lost a little bit of touch; almost no calls and only a few texting breaks so they wouldn’t fall apart.
A lot happened in those four months. Lando had a new gorgeous girlfriend; a model who everyone had become obsessed with her TikTok videos for beauty tips. They had been seen together a few times around the world, her joining him for the races and a lot of make-outs behind DJ booths at parties. Y/N, on the other hand, was lacking in the dating department. But the friends she made over the past year made everything worthy. After years of pretty much having Lando as her only very close friend, she finally found new people to go out and have fun as a normal 20-year-old.
With that, Y/N and Lando’s friendship got weird. He had been avoiding her for a while, with the excuse of being too busy with racing, but actually not wanting to talk about his personal life with someone who knew him like the palm of her hand. Meanwhile, she was having a good time with her friends to be bothered by anything. But lately, life had become more boring and Y/N felt like having Lando back would bring some more fun into her life again, with all the epic parties and the good times they always managed to happen.
“Only one month left”, she thought, as winter break was approaching, meaning that Lando would finally be free to come home for the holidays.
She was pushed out of her thoughts by Adam Norris, who now seemed interest in Y/N’s life after a long catching up with her dad. “Tell us more about college! Are you having fun? Learning anything special?”, he asked with a kind smile.
“Oh, I’m graduating this spring, so it’s been… rough”, she chuckled. “But everything has been amazing, you know? The internship is so cool and the people are nice as well”.
“I just can’t believe it will all be over soon”, his wife, Cisca, responded. “It feels like it was just yesterday when you joined uni and Lando started his first season in F1. Time really flies, uhm?”
Every mention of his name made Y/N smile like a fool. But lately, it has been accompanied by a ting of pain on her chest. God, she missed him so much.
“What is it that you miss?”, Cisca asked, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. Shit, did she say that out loud?
“I said I missed your pie so much, Cis. You know I have always loved it growing up”, Y/N tried to cover it up by stuffing her mouth with the cheesy pie, trying to keep her thoughts of being spoken out loud. But something caught her by surprise.
“Yeah, mum’s pie is the best in the world, isn’t it?”, a male voice said from behind her, one that she hadn’t heard in person for a while. Her eyes widened when she realized who it was, only to turn around and see Lando standing right behind her tugged into his signature comfortable hoodie, with a giant smile plastered on his face, and a bouquet in his hands. “Surprise!”
Y/N brought her hands up to her mouth, trying not to cry at the sight. She couldn’t believe what was standing in front of her. So she jumped out of her seat and jumped into his arms, not caring about anyone else in the room or the flowers being crumpled up in his hands. Lando buried his nose in her hair, taking in her scent, making him feel at ease for once
“What are you doing here?”, she leaned back, holding his face between her hands. His soft eyes looked down at her, his smile never faltering.
“I thought I could surprise my best girl”, he admitted, digging one of his hands into her hips, making her securely close to him. “I had a break before the end of the season, and it had been so long…”
“Shut up, you idiot. I just want to hug you”, she cut him mid-sentence, burying her face in his neck, making his smile even wider, if that was possible. Everyone on the table laughed at her reaction, but let them have their moment after months without seeing each other. It felt too good to be true. 
“I missed you so much”, he whispered in her ear, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head.
“I missed you too. Welcome home, Lan”, she leaned back and kissed his cheek, making it tinted red. Lando was so cute when he blushed. “You brought me flowers! How cute is this?”
She took the giant bouquet filled with red and pink roses out of his hands, bringing it close to her body. “It’s an apology for not being here as much as I should”, he said, making her heart so warm with the thoughtful gift.
“You being here is enough”, she pressed another kiss to his cheek and quickly pulled him for another hug. They just couldn’t get enough of each other.
“Alright, we all know you both really miss each other, but you can catch up after dinner. Food is getting cold and poor Lando must be starving”, her mother cut them off, making Y/N look back at the table, her face burning in embarrassment. He laughed at her behavior and pulled the chair next to her so they could sit together.
Through the whole dinner, Lando told all of his amazing stories traveling the world, leaving all the ‘best friends only’ parts for later, when he would be alone with Y/N. She felt so happy to finally have him by her side, making fun of her table manners, resting his hand on her knee and cracking any bad jokes just to see her roll her eyes. And even though he lived those many adventures, Lando knew life couldn’t get better than having his favourite person in the world back on his side.
“So, Lando, what finally brings you back home?”, Y/N’s father asked, making him shrug.
“You know, the championship could’ve been better and I feel really tired, you know?”, Lando searched for his best friend’s hand under the table, entwining their fingers once they met. Then he looked at her with an adoring smile on his face. “I just need some recharging. Thought I could use some home time before the last few races of the year”.
“You’re always welcomed to recharge in our house if you want to, Lando”, her mother said before the conversation was taken somewhere else once again.
While everyone else chatted, Y/N and Lando updated their phone gallery with new pictures of them. A lot of cute selfies and pictures of their homemade dinner which soon found their place on their Instagrams.
y/username
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liked by landonorris and 3,419 others
y/username: always feels good to have my best friend back in the house
tagged: landonorris
landonorris Besties reunited LFG!
↪ y/username you’re such a bore
fanacc1 FINALLY SOME Y/N AND LANDO CONTENT
fanacc2 Wasn’t him dating a model?
↪fanacc3 He is, but Y/N is his childhood best friend
fanacc4 ugh, if i was his gf, i would be so jealous of them together
↪fanacc5 I bet his girlfriend actually hates them
fanacc6 Does this mean more Y/N around the paddock?
The dinner was coming to an end with the delicious sweet treats they prepared for dessert. At that point, Lando and Y/N were just existing at the conversation. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and she found a comfortable spot to lean into him and keep sipping on her wine while they shared a slice of cake. But even though they were quiet, they surely weren’t tired. So as the rest of the adults continued with their chat, they took their glasses of wine to the backyard, just so they could have some alone time.
Lando chuckled when he saw what was still standing strong in her backyard. “You still have our old treehouse?”, he asked and she nodded excitedly. “Wow, it looks so much nicer than before”.
“It’s because I renovated it, you fool. Haven’t I told you?”, she asked, but Lando shook his head. “Oh my… you have to see this! Now it’s a grown up treehouse! Take a look”.
Y/N dragged him to the small construction and made him climb all the way up to the house. It changed a lot with the renovations. Their wall doodles from when they were little kids were preserved by a varnish coat on the wood. She also substituted the old toys for books and her collection of vinyls, making the place look extra cozy. There was even a table for afternoon tea and card games, a TV and a huge futon, with lots of cushions, so they could just lie down and spend the rest of the day hidden from the world.
“What a glow up!”, he joked. “I loved it. This is amazing”, Lando took a place next to the window, where the moonlight invaded the room. Y/N sat next to him and almost immediately pulled out her camera just to capture the moment. And just like old times, they had fun doing a tiny photoshoot together, only to be cut off by his mom, calling them from the ground.
“Are you coming, Lando?”, Cisca asked, making him look over to Y/N, who replied for him.
“I’m not letting him go anywhere, Cisca”, she joked, throwing her arms around Lando, making his mother laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your son”.
“Have fun you two”, they waved at her and sighed after finally being left alone for a proper catching up between best friends. Lando had a satisfied smile on his face and he felt so calm at that moment. He threw both of his arms around his best friend and hugged her tightly.
“Home, at last”, his cheek was pressed on the side of her face, making her giggle with the contact. “I want to know everything going on with you. Just blurt it all out. I owe you this”.
“Oh, nothing great happened”, she shrugged. “Nothing that you didn’t know already. The internship is nice, but it’s coming to an end soon and I’m not sure they’ll keep me with them. And college is almost finished, so that’s kind of bittersweet”.
“I thought you were excited to have a degree”, he said, making her sigh. “Are you not happy about graduating?”
“Of course I am. You more than anyone knows how important this is to me”, she answered. “And I made so many good friends and I’ve been having the best time with them. I know graduating will make us grow apart”.
“Endings aren’t always nice, uhm? But you have to look at the bright side of things”, he started. “You’re finally achieving something great and you managed to have a really good time along the way. Made friends and worked really hard to become the best professional out there. I’m so proud of you!”
Lando has always been her biggest supporter on pursuing her academic path. He remembers all the talks they had about her wanting to master in communications. While he didn’t get to finish school to up his game in racing, he was there for every step his best friend took until enrolling in university. So when they talk about it, he always has that beautiful proud smile on his face, to which Y/N loved seeing.
“Thank you”, she smiled shyly. “And what about you, Mr Worldwide? You’ve been everywhere these past months. How was it?”
“Oh, always amazing”, he beamed. “I got to see so many amazing places around the world. You would’ve loved all the clubs I went to. The DJ booths are amazing. Oh, and the golf courts… breathtaking”.
“Yeah, I saw all the pictures”, Y/N arched her brows and rolled her eyes. “You didn’t even bother on calling, telling me about your adventures”.
“Sorry, I lacked in that department”, he apologized. “Even though everything has been amazing, I’m so tired of this year. I could’ve done better on the track and the last few races have been exhausting. I knew that I needed to recharge before the last two races, so I came back to you”.
“It’s always a pleasure to have you home”, she ran her hand through his curls and smiled. Lando always saw Y/N as his home. She always brings him that sense of familiarity, and her absence in his travels around the world were taking a toll on him.
Not to mention that hiding a big secret from his best friend also wasn’t doing him any good.
“But I’m not here to talk about me. I want to know everything about you”, he poked her side with his index finger and smirked. “Anyone special appeared in your life in the past few months?”
“Please”, she rolled her eyes. “The last time I had a proper hook up was during our summer trip to Bali with that guy on the club”.
“Come on, it can’t be that bad”, he giggled, but Y/N’s face was burning in embarrassment.
“I had a few dates in the past months, but fuck me, they were annoying”, Lando laughed at her statement. “One of them found out you’re my best friend and spent the entire time asking questions about you. And the only guy who was actually decent came in his pants when we were making out in his car. Didn’t even get to touch me”. 
“Oh, poor you”, he giggled. “So no boy to be my new best friend? I mean, come on, we need more male energy in this friendship”.
“Sorry, Lan. No boyfriend this time”, she said. “You, on the other hand, started dating this gorgeous model and forgot to tell me about everything.”
And there she said it: the topic Lando had been avoiding the most throughout the whole night. He really didn’t want to talk about it with Y/N, because his big secret had been hiding right there. He knew he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, lie about anything to her. And he also knew that he really needed to vent about this secret with her as well.
Lando turned really quiet, and looked away, avoiding her eyes. “Don’t start now, Y/N. I mean, there’s not much to say, to be fair”, he mumbled.
“Come on, I want to know everything about the woman who stole my bestie’s heart”, she poked him, but Lando didn’t dare to look Y/N in the eyes. “I mean, everybody loves her and she seems sweet. Why don’t you want to tell me about her?”
“Because we’re not together”.
“What do you mean? I’ve seen the Instagram pictures and the gossip pages posting videos of you two kissing in the club. I thought you were becoming a thing”.
“Y/N, don’t push it”, he asked, his voice bargaining on his throat.
“Why don’t you want to tell me about her?”
“Because we’re not together, I told you”, he sighed. “She’s a PR stunt. She’s not my girlfriend, and it’s been consuming me from the inside ever since we started this little thing”.
Lando finally looked her in the eyes and Y/N saw them brimming with tears. As an immediate response, she rested a hand on his arm and waited until he was ready to talk more. He leaned into her touch and the tears started to stream down his face. He’s never one to cry for anything, so the tears meant that it was so much more than he was letting show. Her heart broke at the sight of her best friend.
“Is this why you look more tired than usual?”, Y/N asked and he nodded, making the tears fall harder. “Oh, Lan… Come here”.
She pulled his head to rest on her chest and Lando wrapped his arms around her, needing some sort of comfort. He didn’t say much for a couple of minutes after, feeling his heart aching on his chest. He wanted to talk about everything with Y/N, because he knew she would understand him. He always feels vulnerable and safe enough to talk about anything with his best friend. 
“Everything is so fucked up, Y/N”, Lando cried out. “God, I can’t take this fake relationship anymore. Do you know how disgusting it feels to pretend to be in love with someone you’re not? And to lie to everyone, hiding it from my parents. From you. I can’t stand it”
“I’m sure you have a good reason to be doing so”, she said, fingers running through his curls and making him sure that she was right there with him. Y/N felt his fingers clinging tighter onto her. “You’re just doing your job and that’s okay. This won’t last forever”.
“I feel so lonely, you know? I was doing so bad on the last few races and I missed home so much. I missed talking to my dad and hugging my mom. I missed making fun of my sisters and going for a drive with my brother. And I missed you so much. I wish I could just stay here for a long while”.
“Soon you’ll get to be here for as long as you want, baby”, Y/N pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando sighed in comfort. It ached a little less with her there. “And we’ll get to spend so much time together. You can come over and we’ll have sleepovers. We can take the car, drive around and go clubbing until sunrise. Whatever you want”.
“God, it would be so easy if it was you”, he whispered, still holding onto her as if his life depended on it. What did he mean with that? Just those single words made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. Truth is, while her heart ached for her best friend, she was relieved he’s not in love with someone else. Did he have feelings for her? 
“You know, I looked over my so-called girlfriend one night while we were hanging out at the club and I wanted to shout to everyone that it was all an act. She’s like a solid reminder of how lonely I am all the damn time. It’s ridiculous”, he grunted. 
“Come on, look at me”, Y/N pulled his face to look up and held his head between her hands. “Lan, you are never alone, okay? Even if you feel like you are, and even if I’m not there physically, you know that I’m always with you. I’m right here”, she rested a hand over his heart, making him smile through his tears. “I've been in your heart since the moment we met”.
“I…”, he started, but couldn’t get to say the rest. After all this time, Lando was afraid that the next move would ruin their friendship forever. But looking her in the eyes, comforting him through this rough time, he knew she felt the same. “I love you, Y/N”.
She was expecting anything. ‘I know’, maybe. That was so much bigger than what she imagined. Lando had said he loved her countless times over the years they’ve known each other; after all, they grew up together, almost like brother and sister. But this time, it was different. Y/N knew it, and Lando knew it too.
Y/N was too stunned to speak, so he continued with his confession. “I always have, you know? And I only hid everything from you because I can’t lie to you. And because I thought you’d never look at me the same way if you found out”.
“Lando, I…” she stopped mid-sentence, trying to catch some air. “Fuck, this is a lot. Just wait a second”.
They giggled together and he leaned his forehead against hers. “It’s okay to not say anything right now. I just dropped a giant bomb on your lap. This wasn’t the way I wanted to confess to you, but I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore”.
“Are you saying this because you’re emotional? Because I swear to God, if you are, I’m gonna kill you for misleading me”, her eyes were brimming with tears and Lando whipped them away.
“I’m telling you the truth”, he assured. “I think I’ve loved you my entire life. With all the crazy things I’ve experienced in my life, you were the only constant. You’re home, Y/N”.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”, she asked and he took a deep breath.
“Because I was afraid of losing you. Scared this might ruin our friendship somehow”, he admitted. “You’re the most precious thing in my life. Do you know how scary it is to fall in love with your best friend when you’re just a kid? And then grow up, and those feelings never go away, just getting stronger every day. I just didn’t want to lose you”.
“You weren’t going to lose me, Lan”, her eyes softened at his confession and now he was the one wiping her tears. Y/N brought him back for a hug and even though he didn’t have an answer, deep down he knew she felt the same.
“I’ve loved you since we were four. There’s a reason why I always carry this number with me”, Lando confessed. “God, look what you do to me. I never cry”.
“You only cry for the important things”, she reminded. “That’s why I love you, Lando. I’ve been in love with you for my entire life too, idiot”.
His eyes widened as he looked up to her, who had a smirk plastered on her face. “Can I kiss you?”, Lando asked, but before she could properly shake her head in agreement, he crashed his lips into hers. He needed to be home, and Y/N has always been home for him. It was the most intense kiss they ever had, like years of lingering had finally paid off for both of them.
Lando pulled her closer with a hand on the back of her head. She wrapped her fingers around his neck, smiling into his lips. Then, as if it wasn't enough, he pulled her to sit on lap, making them closer somehow. She slowed down the pace, making the kiss needier and more delicious. Lando even let out a satisfied throaty moan, his heart speeding on his chest. Her touches made him feral, knowing that after years of pinning, he finally had his dream girl.
“Thank you for this”, he whispered against her lips, a wide and satisfied smile on his face. “Thank you for all the years, all the times you've been here for me, to tell me everything is going to be alright.”
“Always, Lan”, she played with the hairs on his nape. “I love you so much”.
“I love you too. So much”, he left one more peck on her lips before hugging her again. “I don't know what I'd do without you”.
“Yeah, me too”.
The story of how they fell in love with each other was long, but beautiful. Lando and Y/N sat in that tree house all night and shared all of those stories with each other. And for a second, he really believed everything was going to work out. After all, if he had Y/N, Lando would be just fine.
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
Text
Officially announcing my new series: Careful.
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A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.
'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'
The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.
THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!
(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)
The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.
Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.
Preview Word Count: 1,800
Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.
...
The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully. 
You had a son. 
… 
When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 
The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep. 
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 
Shock. 
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 
“Y/N,” 
He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 
This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret. 
Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 
And that was when you finally spoke. 
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?” 
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” 
You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 
You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure. 
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 
… 
You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well. 
Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent. 
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply. 
Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly. 
He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them. 
“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 
“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 
“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 
“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 
“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 
You already knew what he was going to say. 
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 
“No.” You rushed to say. 
But it was a lie. You knew. 
You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 
You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 
And you knew exactly when. 
The night was so vivid in your mind. 
… 
He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 
When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question. 
“Do you have a condom?” 
It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 
“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. 
When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 
“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 
(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 
He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 
He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you. 
This was always his favorite part. 
The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. 
It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. 
It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 
With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t. 
“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 
“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 
Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 
The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 
He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 
… 
It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why. 
Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 
He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were. 
But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.
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finelinefae · 20 days
Text
sick bug [tattooH x innocenty/n]
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synopsis: y/n works too hard and harry just wants her to be okay
word count: 3.5k
contains: fluff
a/n: hope u enjoy the first of many blurbs for flower !!
. . .
Y/N never ever, ever gets sick.
Ever since she was a little girl she had always had a strong immune system and even when she had the slightest hint of a cold, she’d gulp down a few pills and get on with her day. 
It was a trait within her family to never let anything stop you from working, not even a sick bug. She distinctly remembers the first and only time she had caught something during high school. She had been one of the last people to catch a bug that had been travelling around groups of students and it just so happened to be during exam season. 
Despite the hammering headache and the constant shivers, she went straight to school to complete her exams after her mother had given her herbal medicine she couldn’t seem to name- that she believed had some kind of magical healing properties- and a packet of ibuprofen. 
Now that she ran a flower shop most days of the week, getting sick was a total inconvenience. There was always too much to do and not enough days in the week, so getting sick would just be a waste of time that could be used to get things done.
That’s what she kept telling herself, over and over, as she blew her nose into a tissue for the third time in the last ten minutes and swallowed two headache pills to ease the throbbing in her skull. 
She was arranging flowers into vases as customers wandered around the shop. Her eyes could barely focus on the flowers she was cutting and arranging; she was constantly taking them all out and starting again. What was meant to be four vases of perfectly arranged flowers, was only one. 
She was uncomfortably warm. Even though she had layered herself with three jumpers, she did so only because there were moments when she would suddenly feel cold and shivery. The heating was constantly up and down despite the fact it was the beginning of spring. 
This was another reason she couldn’t allow herself to get rest. Spring was the busiest season, flowers were beginning to bloom and people were rushing to buy new flowers for the season to decorate with or send to loved ones. 
There was just too much all at once and being sick was not allowed.
The morning had gone by in a blur - literally. Y/N couldn’t seem to remember who walked in and out of the shop too busy thinking about not throwing up every five minutes. It seemed the only person who could gain her attention as he walked past the shop window, was her tattooed boyfriend next door. 
She quickly pulled out her purse and took out a pressed powder to powder her nose with, hoping it would hide the redness of it. She stretched her cheeks and forced the biggest smile she possibly could when the bell rang and Harry stepped in through the door. 
In his hand, he had her bento lunchbox that he had prepared for her the night before like he always did because she seemingly always forgot to eat whenever she worked. “Hi flower,” His voice was like warm soup that soothed her belly. 
“Hi Harry,” She walked into his arms and nuzzled her face into his soft, fuzzy sweatshirt. He smelt like pine and ink and all the things she loved that made her feel warm and cosy. Her arms wrapped around his middle as her eyes fluttered shut, she could have drifted off as his hands pressed against her back, playing with the ends of her hair. 
“Y’ tired sweet girl?” He murmured, “Working so hard?” 
Y/N squeezed him tighter, wanting to mould herself into him so she’d never have to leave the comfort of his warmth, “Not really,” She lied, finally looking up at him. 
Harry held her face in his hands and brushed the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone, “Remember we’re going out tonight so don’t work too much,” He warned her, knowing she was prone to working herself too hard and passing out once they stepped into his or her apartment. 
Y/N’s stomach plummeted. She’d completely forgotten that Harry had asked her to come with him to a birthday dinner down at a bar that evening. She had made a mental note earlier in the week to pick out an outfit but had completely forgotten about the entire thing. She felt awful especially since Harry had been looking forward to introducing her to some of his friends and just spending time together in general. It was all the more reason why she had to hide her sickness, just until the end of the night. 
“I won’t,” She forced a smile, “For the rest of the day I’ll sit right here and won’t move a muscle,” 
Harry chuckled, “Yeah? Sit there and look pretty? Tha’s not so hard for you m’love,” His lips pressed against her forehead. She hoped he couldn’t feel how warm she was. “C’mon flower, made y’ favourite for lunch.” 
By the end of the day, Y/N had hoped she'd feel a bit better, enough to join dinner at least, but she felt even worse than she did in the morning. 
Her movements were slow as she closed the shop for another day, trying not to move so much or she’d feel her stomach turn. The mere idea of going out, let alone eating something with her upset stomach, made her feel queasy but she’d push through for Harry. 
She had little energy to tidy everything completely so she pushed it all to one side and switched the lights off before locking up. Harry wouldn’t be finished with work for another hour which gave her some time to pick out an outfit before the dinner party. 
With laboured breaths, she ascended the steps to her apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last, until finally, she reached her front door and pushed it open. Marshall rubbed against her leg as she tried to kick her shoes off of her aching feet, “Hi Marshy,” She mumbled, stumbling over to her bedroom and straight to her wardrobe. 
She plucked a few things off of the hangers, none of them matched or looked fancy enough for dinner, but she wanted something comfortable. Her eyes glanced at her bed as she held the dresses up before the mirror. It looked so inviting, all made up and cosy. She'd been longing for a nap all day and maybe if she took one now she’d gain some of her energy back for dinner. 
With a sigh, Y/N dropped the clothes on the floor and succumbed to the temptation of her bed. She pulled out her phone and set a timer for twenty minutes, knowing Harry wouldn’t be back before then. 
As she slipped under the covers, the warmth and comfort of her bed enveloped her. It was what she had been seeking all day - to cocoon herself in blankets and fall asleep so she didn’t have to deal with being sick. Her eyes fluttered shut and it wasn’t long before she drifted off into a much-needed nap, hoping it would ease the discomfort she had been feeling all day.
. . .
“Flower,” His voice was in her dreams, “Can y’ wake up f’ me a sec?” 
Y/N frowned, feeling something cool and damp pressed against her forehead. Soft kisses press against her exposed arm, “Harry?” She mumbled, her eyes slowly opening only to realise she wasn’t dreaming of him at all.
He was right there in front of her, sitting on the edge of her bed and pressing a damp cloth against her forehead. “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed. 
“You’re here,” She sighed, her eyes groggy from sleep and her head heavy against her pillow. She reached for the hand that wasn’t holding the cloth, clutching it to her chest. 
“M here, lovie,” He sighed, “I wish y’ would have told me y’ weren’t feeling good.” 
“I’m fine,” Y/N lies, her eyes falling shut again to block out the light in the room. 
“Y sure about that flower? Found you up here passed out when I came to pick y’ up for dinner,” The word seemed to trigger Y/N’s memory as she shot up in bed, ignoring the pulsing of her head and the way the room spun. 
“The dinner! Harry, we can still go, I set an alarm and we still have time, I made sure of it.” Her head whipped in the direction of the clothes she had left on the floor. 
Two hands curled around her wrists to pull her attention away from the thoughts that were whirring in her mind, “Baby,” He murmured, “The dinner started an hour ago. I told them we couldn’t go as soon as I found you lying here all feverish.”
Y/N’s lips parted, registering his words as he waited patiently for her to respond. Suddenly, her eyes burned until tears began falling from them, rolling down her cheeks. Harry’s eyes widened, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears before they could even fall onto the duvet. “I-I’m sorry Harry,” She cried, “I know you were so excited to go to dinner with your friends. I never get sick, I don’t understand why this is happening.” 
Harry’s eyes softened as she clung onto him, “Flower,” His heart was hurting for her. He always knew she worked hard, he saw it every day with his own eyes, but not to this extent. He figured this was from more than just a sick bug and that she’d been over-exhorting herself to the point where her body was turning against her to get some rest, “Hey, what are these tears for hmmm? No more cryin’ m’love.” He kissed her tears away, tasting the saltiness on the tip of his tongue. 
“‘Course I was excited for dinner,” A fresh set of tears filled Y/N’s eyes but Harry quickly continued, “But only because I like spending time with you. M’ friends will still be there but you are always, always, my first priority in everything.”
“You’re not mad?” She whimpers, feeling more angry at herself than anything.
“Not about tha’ but I am a little angry y’ didn’t tell me y’ weren’t feeling good. Never seen someone so warm in m’ life flower, scared me half to death.” He was trying to be stern with her but he couldn’t help but also show his worry for her. “Think you’ve been working yourself a little too hard hmmm?” He stroked her head, pushing her hair back from her sweaty forehead.
“I haven’t been sick in so long,” She admits, “I was hoping it would go away by the end of the day but, honestly Harry, I feel terrible. M’ throat is all scratchy and my tummy hurts too.”
“Think y’ body jus’ needs a well-needed break from all tha’ running about you do. Honestly Flower, never seen anyone work as hard as you do.” He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Gonna let me take care of y’ tonight?”
She nods, relaxing at his words of comfort, “Okay Harry,” She whispers. 
The corner of his lip twitches, “What am I going to do with you?” He sighs, completely in love with her. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers, not minding the warmth radiating from her in fact he welcomed it, “You’re everything to me. Can’t have y’ getting sick.” 
Her eyes fluttered shut feeling his cool breath blow against her lips like he was trying to breathe new air into her to get rid of the sickness, “I really am sorry for not being honest and for the dinner.” 
“S okay but y’ tell me from now on? Everyday okay? Tell me the truth about how y’ feeling,” He needed that from her and she promised she’d give it to him. 
He smiled when he received a quick nod in response to his request, “Alright then, are y’ hungry? Want something to eat?” He asked. 
“Not really,” Y/N pouts, the thought of food didn’t exactly appease her stomach right now. 
“Y’ don’t want soup? I make a mean cup of soup, flower. I hear it can cure even the worst of sicknesses.” Her eyes squint and he’s desperately holding himself back from rubbing his thumb over the dark circles under her eyes. 
“What kind of soup?” She questions, her eyebrows furrowing.
He leans forward, puckering his lips against her top lip, “S a secret.” He murmurs. 
“Can I help make it?” Her eyes round because she knows it will persuade him - it always does. 
“You can sit down and keep me company but I don’t want you up and about.” She sighs but accepts the answer and holds her arms open. Harry smiles and lifts her up, his arms under her butt as her legs wrap around his waist. 
He walks to her kitchen and places her on the kitchen counter, moving around to the different cupboards as though he owned the place. He knew exactly where she kept everything, gathering ingredients to create the delicious soup he knew she would love because it had all her favourite things hidden in the recipe. 
Once the soup is cooked, he pours two servings into pink, china bowls and places them at the coffee table in front of the couch. He helps Y/N, carrying her over and sitting her in her spot and tossing a blanket over her legs. “Want me to put on y’ show, love?” He asks, referring to her comfort show Gravity Falls. 
“Yes please,” She replies, politely. 
Y/N picks up the spoon that feels like it weighs more than it does and sips some of the soup she watched Harry make. “Mmm Harry, it’s delicious!” She hums, taking another spoonful.
“Yeah?” He grins proudly at her reaction.
“I already feel much better,” She nodded. He knows she’s feeding his ego but he accepts it all the same.
When they’re both finished eating, he takes both of their bowls and goes to tidy them up, leaving Y/N lying on the couch under a blanket he’d put over her. He hears her tired giggles when something funny happens on the small television, his heart aching at the raspiness of her voice but he’s happy she’s no longer upset. He also cleans up the dishes from this morning and does some of her laundry too, wanting her to rest as much as possible in the upcoming days. 
His phone buzzes in his pocket. A notification appears from the group chat he was in with the friends they were meant to go to dinner with. Pictures of them at dinner pop up, his eyes glancing over to his girlfriend as he sends a quick reply. He walks over to her and finds her no longer in the sweater she was once wearing but completely stripped down to just her underwear. Her eyes gaze up at him, “S too hot,” She sighs, her cheeks bright pink.
He tugs off his shirt and pulls it over his head, nudging her over to lie in the spot beside her. The couch was much too small so she ended up laying half on top of him, her head resting over his heart and her palm over his chest. His thumb slides under the waistband of her panties as it brushes the skin on her waist. 
She mindlessly played with the chain around his neck and his lips quirked every time he’d spot the small inking on her arm whenever she moved it a certain angle. “I love you,” He murmured, kissing the top of her head. He couldn’t remember if he had told her already but either way, he wanted to tell her. 
Y/N craned her neck to look up at him, his palm pushing back the hair from her face, “I love you too,” She puckered her lips and he leaned forward to kiss her. 
Halfway through the first season, light snores fell from the girl lying across his chest. Harry carefully manoeuvred himself to grab the remote control and switch the TV off. He gently moved her enough so he could stand up and hooked his arms around her to carry her to her bedroom. 
“Harry,” Y/N mumbled as he lay her on her mattress. She reached out for him, needing his close proximity to stay relaxed. 
“M right here, lovie,” He reached for her hand that she held out for him and kissed the back of it, “I’m just gonna get you a glass of water.” Y/N liked having a glass of water on her bedside table in case she got thirsty in the night. He remembered the first time he stayed around her apartment and she forgot to grab one before she went to sleep. She woke Harry up in the middle of the night to ask him if he could come with her to the kitchen because it was too dark for her to go by herself. 
“You’ll come back?” She pouts, half asleep.
“I’ll be back in thirty seconds, flower. Y’ can count if y’ want to.” He chuckles when she starts counting, whispering softly as he walks to the kitchen.
He comes back before she reaches thirty with a glass of tap water clenched in his fingers. He places it on her side of the bed - because they have those now and he was obsessed. Hers was always the right in both his and her bed and his was always the left. 
“Told you,” He says as he lays beneath the blanket in the bed beside her. 
“You did,” She hums, curling into his side once he’s settled, “How come you’re always right?” 
He cradles her in his arms as she buries her face in his neck, wanting to be as close to him as possible. “M not always right but I think M right about you most of the time. You’re all I know, flower, I know how to love you and take care of you.”
She sighs blissfully, he can feel her eyelashes against his neck as they flutter open and close like she’s trying to fight off sleep, “There you go again, right as always.” 
He laughs, “Rest now baby, you’ll be back t’ watering y’ flowers and being my noisy neighbour in no time.”
He knows she’s asleep from the lack of sassy responses he gets. 
. . . 
“This is pretty,” Harry tugged on her skirt as she walked past him sitting on the chair at the front desk holding a bouquet of flowers. She looked beautiful every day but after days of being sick and in bed, she was practically glowing with fresh energy as she moved around the shop. Her hair was in a high ponytail with a white bow secured around it, she wore a dress with puffy sleeves that swayed as she moved, and her heels clicked against the ground with every step she made. 
The flower shop had been closed during the time Y/N was sick. She was beyond stressed about it the first few days, worried that she would be so behind on her work the longer the shop was closed, but Harry made sure everything would be alright. He suggested she keep the shop closed for the whole week so that she could work on the things she needed to before opening it again.
 As much as he wanted to stay with her, Y/N insisted he go to work in the day, especially since the most she would be doing was sleeping. He worried about her often in the day, he couldn’t help it, and he hadn’t realised how big of a presence she was until she wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t hear the chiming of the bell as people walked in and out of the flower shop and he missed the clicking of her heels against the floor as she walked into his shop to eat lunch with him or sneak around the back buildings to kiss him. 
“Thank you, I bought it online a few days ago,” She gleamed as he rubbed the fabric between his fingers. 
“Ahh,” He smirked, “So y’ were buying pretty dresses instead of sleeping whilst I was down here working?”
“Something like that,” She shrugged, biting her lip.
He yawned his head falling forward to rest against her stomach. She ran her fingers through his curls, “Are you tired?” She asks. 
“Hmmm,” His eyes flutter shut at the sensation of her hands in his hair.
“Harry?” She frowns, holding his face in her hands as she tilts his head back. Her hand cups his forehead, “You’re burning up.”
“I am?” He sighs.
Y/N’s eyes soften, “You are,” She replies, “Seems as though it’s my turn to take care of you now,”
Harry grins lazily, “I like the sound of that, Flower.”
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saiidahyunie · 27 days
Text
ballroom extravaganza
minatozaki sana x f!reader || cont. of fake and true ! pt.3 here
synopsis: you scored the date with the girl from the bar, things are shaping up for the better (maybe/maybe not), and your cousin mina is starting to raise some suspicions.  
warnings: fluff ; smut!! ; sana giving/recieving ; reader recieving/giving ; fucking in the car/office/bedroom (freaky deaky) :D ; sana being needy ; sana praising ; cursing ; anything else i didn't let y'all know ; might be proofread
a/n: dang y'all really like sana don't ya? (bias wrecking me ill never recover) hope you guys enjoy this second part as much as the first one!
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you’re basically jumping out of your own skin when you hear the knock on your door, and twirl around to see the bedside clock. 
8:29 
a minute early. you’d be impressed to keep the hefty lunch in your stomach to not vomit it out. 
“coming!” you cry out, before taking a second to fuss with your current appearance. you played it simple, the flashiest part of the red dress that shuhua loaned you. like the black one, it’s slim-fitting and short, the neckline cutting above the swell of your breasts. your lips are a stained deep red, just to match. tzuyu always said to you that the color was striking for you to pull off. 
after straightening the dress, you step out of your room and walk towards the entryway of the door, taking a second to toe on your black pumps. and then, with a steady exhale, you open the door. 
sana stands on the other side of it, one hand in her pocket of your black slacks and the other carrying a bouquet of roses that she promptly shoves at your chest. you take them, cradling to your body, and look up to find her already gazing at you, eyes raking from the top of your head and down. again and again. 
“hey.” 
“hi.” you smile at her. “these are really beautiful, thank you.”
sana jerks her head in acknowledgement, and you can see the faintest flush of pink spreading to the tips of her ears. you bite your lip as you set the flowers down, staving off the rare urge to giggle. 
she’s still standing by the door, holding her arm out. “so are you ready to go?” 
you take it, curling a hand around her bicep, letting her lead you out. “please.”
“alright,” sana says, laying her menu flat on the table, staring at you with grave seriousness. “speak.” 
“huh?” you look away from the giant, crystal chandelier hanging above you two. the restaurant she’d take you to was only slightly less fancier than the one at the four seasons hotel. 
slightly. 
“i can tell you want to say something.” 
you smile nervously. “yeah, about your driving, maybe. i thought we were gonna—” 
“y/n.” she says firmly; it has the same affect as dumping a bucket of ice water over your head. “no bullshit. you might as well say what you wanna say.” 
“fine.” and this is easy to sink into, your mode of no-nonsense: the compartmentalization of what stresses you. “why did you give me the money?” 
“because i wanted to.” 
“i know, but why? did you feel bad for me?”
“a little.” 
you grit your teeth. “did you pity me?” 
“no.” 
“then what?” 
“i’ve been in your position before. kind of.” 
“what do you mean.” 
“struggling college student, a shitty job, caming from harebrained ways to get money. everyone who’s gone on the path to grad school, doesn’t matter if it’s med, law, blah blah blah whatever, knows how fucking hard it is to survive.” 
your cheeks flush from sana’s words, picking at the white table cloth. “so you empathized with me?” 
“basically.” sana says, sitting back in her chair, smiling at you. your eyes follow along the lazy draw of it. “i didn’t expect you to be so difficult about it.” 
“it’s not like it’s common to give strangers hundreds of dollars within an hour of meeting them. forgive me for being concerned.”
“do you still want to give the money back to me?” sana asks. 
“yes.” 
“okay. then let’s change the subject.” diverting to the basic cookie cutter icebreaker in existence. “what are you majoring in?” 
“sana—”
she reaches across the table and grabs your hand, squeezing it slightly. dazzling brown eyes swallow up your field of vision as she leans into you. “what are you majoring in?”
you bite your tongue. you don’t want to relent into sana’s charms; mina would have your head if she knew that sana was running away with it. but she’s making it so so easy, smiling when you answer, “i’m finishing up my bachelor’s in child education. aiming to get my masters in child’s psychology.”
“you like kids?” 
“yeah,” you reply, visibly softening to sana. “last summer i did my internship at a local kindergarten and i love it. kids are…easy in a way that people aren’t.” 
“what do you mean?”
“they don’t expect anything from you. not anything beyond food or water or playtime. you know, nothing super sophisticated or adult. and they’re easy to talk to. they don’t care what you say to them or if you don’t talk much in general. they’re not judgy and it’s nice.” you hit that right out of the ballpark, and sana stares with lips parted as the facts are laid out for you. 
“i’ve never thought about them that way,” she says, her hand shifting atop your own. her thumb skims across your knuckles. “it sounds nice.” 
your heart thrums like a hummingbird against the walls of your chest. every languid caress pulls a shiver from you. “you don’t like kids?” 
“i don’t dislike them. i’m neutral, i guess. i know i’d like to have my own.” sana replies. 
“do you have any siblings?” 
“nope. i’m an only child.”
“i would’ve never guessed,” you say dryly. 
“ha! has anyone told you you’re funny?” sana inquires, and you’re stifling a laugh while she’s smiling at you, gaze fond. “what about you?” 
“well, i’m an only child.” you reply. normally you’d leave it at this. you don’t really like the notion of getting into the nitty-gritty of your past, but sana’s presence robs any reticence from you. “my parents passed when i was younger so i was raised by my aunt and her cousin.” 
“oh.” sana slips her fingers into the spaces of your own and squeezes gently again. “i’m so sorry.” 
“it’s okay,” you say, smiling awkwardly. “it happened when i was little. i’m kind of accustomed to it now.” 
“can i ask you a question?” 
“a personal one?”
the corner of sana’s mouth quirks. you want to trace it with your fingers.
“if you were in that desperate of a situation, why didn’t you ask her for help?” 
“i can’t afford to take any money from my aunt or cousin. she can’t afford it.” 
“did you try asking?” 
“i’m not saying she would’ve said no. but if she tried, i wouldn’t have accepted it.” 
“sounds startlingly familiar.” 
you pull your hand from hers with a smile and an eye roll before picking up the menu in front of the table, raising it up high enough to cover sana’s face. 
“can we order something now?”
when you get back in the car, you’re warm, languid with a stomach full of risotto and red wine. sana’s hand rests on the gear shift between you, the other one on her wheel. you like watching the motion of them as she drive, like the curls of sana’s knuckles and the rasp her palm makes against the wheel when she turns it. you wish to feel the warmth of it against your leg. 
well, in a city like new york, it’s nothing more than unpleasant. 
“you know i wasn’t kidding when i told you that you’re a horrible driver.” 
“do you own a car, y/n?” 
 “i usually take the subway.” 
“okay. pro-tip if you ever do drive in these streets, better to be offensive than dead. or stuck in traffic for two hours. which, believe it or not, is fucking worse.” 
but despite sana’s words, she seems to listen to you. the drive stretches longer, and you lean into the plush leather seats as you stare out the window, dreading the sight of every familiar building, the street signs that you know lead to your apartment. for a moment, you debate asking to get ice cream, or go to the park, a movie theater–-anything and everything to extend this. you don’t want to leave the pleasant warmth of her car. 
“y/n?” 
you look over to see her smile. “i thought you were asleep.” 
“i’m not tired.”
she takes her hand off the gear shift, thumbs a lock of your hair without breaking your gaze. unwavering. 
“neither am i.” 
when she pulls into your squat, little apartment complex, you’re gripping the edge of your seat, nails squeaking against the buttery leather. she smoothly pulls into an empty space, parking backwards—what a show off—-before turning to you. with as huddled into the seat as you were, her hand is behind the headers, arm bracketing you, you feel consumed. surrounded by her scent, in her car, the engine humming beneath them, with her so close. you can’t breathe without inhaling her.
sana’s noticed it too. her eyes have gone dark, swallowed by her pupils. 
“i had fun,” she says. 
“me too.” 
her mouth twitches. “you gonna try giving me the money back now?” 
you jolt at the reminder, bending to snatch you purse, but sana’s hand flies from her headrest to your hand, hot over your knee.
“i was kidding. i don’t want it back. i don’t need it.”
“sana—” 
“y/n.” she interrupts firmly. “i don’t need it. and in my opinion, i think you can do a hell of a lot more.” 
your defenses waiver before they crumble completely, and you feel your chin wobble. to your horror. “you’re too nice to me.” 
she grabs it, pressing her thumb into the plush of your bottom lip. your stomach clenches as sana’s eyes flicker down, anticipation making your headlight. 
“i don’t think i’m nice enough,” she whispers, but it barely registers. you’re already reaching for her, mouth open to beg; hand on her wrist, and she meets you half-way, swallowing your muted please. 
sana’s kiss is desperate, intense like the rest of her. one hand buried in your hair while the other presses against your knee, a searing, overbearing heat that sinks into your insides, coiling tingly in the pit of your gut. despite your furious protestations to tzuyu, you haven’t felt this in a while, the wet-warmth of another mouth against your own, the life of someone else’s tongue, opening you up further. 
you press closer, so frantic you almost climb over the armrest, but sana pushes you back down to your seat. she breaks away from your mouth to kiss down the line of your throat, flicking her tongue out to taste your overheated skin, smiling when you sigh. your hips jerk beneath her hold when she sucks at your pulse point. 
she grins, teeth nipping at your jawline. “you like that, sweetie?” 
there’s a shock-wire running from the heat of her mouth to her clit. sana’s barely touched you and you’re already keyed-up, on the cusp of euphoria. if you touched yourself now, you’d be so far gone, but you’re not sure she’d let you.
sana returns to kissing your throat, pausing to suckle at it with teeth and tongue, laving it against your skin in soft, wet strokes. she uses the hand in your hair to tilt your neck towards her, directing you like a puppet on strings. her other hand roves up and down your exposed thigh in gentle motions, more exploratory than anything, as if she can’t keep from touching you. and the thought sends a jolt of electricity to pass through you, sparking between your legs. it makes your hips can’t, makes the desperate need for friction a burying, voracious thing, primed to consume you. 
when she kisses the swell of your bottom lip, it comes out of you in a breathless pant, nails biting the seat. “p-please touch me.” 
“where?” sana asks, thumbing the hem of your dress, close enough to be a physical pain. “where, baby? here?”
“n-no.” 
“then where, y/n?” your eyes are black, eager with predatory intent, and you hate how much you love it; the consuming weight of her attention, like she wants to eat you whole. 
without much coronation, you take sana’s hand and shove it between your thighs, spreading them wide. you’re initially afraid that she’ll keep teasing you, that she’s lost in the power trip, but she surprises you when she groans and kisses you roughly, fingers tracing up your slit. 
“so fucking wet you are,” sana raps when she breaks away, almost crazed. she dips her hand beneath the waistband of your panties, the sensation of her fingers against your sensitive skin sending your eyes rolling. your hips buck, demanding delicious friction, and she surges in, laughing into your mouth. 
“you can cum just like this, can’t you?” she asks, voice rumbling against your cheek. her thumb slides up and down the seam of your cunt, the heel of her palm adding the barest pressure to your clit, but it’s good. the mere taste of it almost enough to send you over the edge, just for the sweet torture. 
her knuckles pull against the gusset of your panties as two of her fingers center over your clit. her pace at first is light, slow, exploratory like the way it’d been on your leg. her eyes on your face are focused. she wants to know what’ll take you to the edge, and you know it isn’t this. so you grab sana’s wrist and raise your hips to force pressure. 
“faster,” you pant, liquid gaze cutting to her. “h-harder. i like it–” 
she steals the words from you, kissing again with a mouth full of bite. the motions of sana’s fingers quicken, slide down to the tease of your e trance while you grind frantically into her palm. you’re so wet you easily accept the glide of her first finger, and when she pushes in the second, the stretch is sweet, a welcome thing. you thrust onto them, wishing vainly that she’d toss you into the backseat and fuck you with something more.
the thought makes you clench around her, and she curses loudly, burying her face into your sweaty neck. 
“are you always this depsrate when you’re getting fucked?” sana hisses, thrusting her fingers into you harder, without relent. “you always feel this good?” 
you choke out a sob, feeling the familiar swoop in your belly, the swelling tide that welcomed euphoria. as you clutch her wrist, chasing it, sana rests her head atop your shoulder, her voice going soft, reverent. 
“you’re so good, y/n,” she says in a frantic stream, mad with want. “so good. so, so fucking good. my perfect girl.” 
you keen when it washes over you, that white-hot heat that robs you of sense. you shudder beneath sana’s grip, clutching her wrist as you ride it out. she helps you come down from it, kissing you languidly and keeping her pace inside you slow. when you can breathe again, she pulls them out of you. you flush hotly when she sticks her fingers in her mouth, but the embarrassment doesn’t linger long. you surge toward her, hands flying towards the button of her pants. meets her in another frantic kiss.
“i wanna make you feel good now,” you whisper, palming her. “i want—”
sana uses her hand in your hair to bind you up against her and kisses you again, long and full enough to make the words melt from your tongue. you’re hazy when she pulls away, pliant. 
“i think,” she says. “that there’s always next time.” 
“next time?”
“next time,” sana repeats, rubbing your cheek with her thumb. “it’s late anyway. you should go to bed.” 
“oh,” you say blankly. “okay.”
sana kisses you again, twice on your nose, before leaning over to open your door. you stumble out of her car, binding your purse tight against your chest. you wave at her from the entrance of her building before you step inside, and see the shadow of sana’s hand as she waves back, driving off. when she turns onto the street, you rush inside, a hot, sharp balloon swelling in your chest. 
your hands shake when you slot the key into your door and turn the knob, switching on the lights. you kick your shoes off and toss the purse onto the couch, moving on muscle memory. you can’t think beyond the warm, floaty haze that’s clouded your mind, and when you shut the door behind you, you laugh. 
over and over. carelessly. all the while remembering the firm grip of sana’s hand and the scent of her, clogging your nose even now, a smell you want to bottle up and keep. 
next time, you think, giddy, nearly dancing in the small space. she said there’d be a next time. 
just then, you hear the high trill of your phone and dart to the couch, yanking open your purse to fish it out. you flush a pink when you notice the notification next to sana’s name– a text that reads, goodnight- and as you go to type your response, another notification pops up. one from venmo. 
a cold spike of adrenaline shoots through you when the app opens, fingers trembling. you almost drop your phone entirely at the number attached: $1,000 dollars. 
“for school,” it reads. 
your breath quickens. the hot balloon in your chest expands and expands until it pops, a physical pain against your ribcage.
i thought— your eyes burn. the realization sinks into your like molasses. i thought she—
the night you met sana, she expressed concern when she learned why you were there. she’d condemned jihyo and implied that you deserved something more, something better. she’d left you money as a gift, to be kind. 
a gift, sana told you. you don’t owe me anything. 
so why is it, then, that you have the distinct impression that jihyo had been simply outbid. 
you’re thinking about next time. sana said that there’d be a next time. 
that next time would come, then twice.
then a third.
and after.
the day after that, and the day even after that. 
the room is reverberating the echoes around you, loud with the sounds of heavy pants and wet slaps of skin. you’re clinging to the sheets beneath you, pushing yourself up, moving your hips to meet the frantic pace of sana's fingers curled up inside you. sana then buries a hand into your hair and hitches you up for a kiss that never takes. it’s broken quickly, leaves both of your swollen mouths parted and breathing of each other’s oxygen. you’re relishing the intimacy of the moment. 
when the building pressure at the base of your stomach grows to become too overwhelming, you fall back on the mattress, unmoored without sana’s presence, but she follows you as she always does. she’s binding her arm around your waist and raises you up, hand cupping your cunt while she’s all over your neck again. 
“c’mon,” sana says, voice wrecked, torn from her. “c’mon, honey, one more.” 
you gave sana the opportunity to sit on her face earlier, brown eyes flashing dark and predatory at you while you grind all over her mouth. the hot curl of her tongue relentless against you, reducing you to a living nerve ending. sana wrung out two splintering orgasms out of you, flipping you on your back before you could even recover. you loved it, and you still do, seeing all the ways that you can challenge sana. 
her slender fingers dip down to your clit again and causes you to moan loudly, rocking into her as she circles it firmly: rough, fast motions that she’s learned that you love. to bring you back to that edge quick. 
sana kisses you again, her other hand slipping to your breast above and squeezing. she’s groaning into your core, it’s making you fall deeper into the madness of your situation. 
“you’re so—” she barely mumbles out, her hand on your breast slides down to clamp the divot in your hips. sliding the pillow under the arch of your back in one seamless motion. she’s too good with her hands. “fucking unreal, and perfect.” 
her mouth against your other mouth starts the chain reaction. you’re moaning out more strain behind it. a star-burst of affection igniting in your chest. sana continues to swipe her tongue, the unyielding pressure that makes your vision swimmy, and you let go. 
you’re sobbing out while your hands are trying to find what’s left of the comforter as ecstasy steals over you. sana continues to drive her fingers and tongue into you, letting you feel it: in the air, at the base of your throat, between the rapid, uneven pacing of thrusts from her fingers. when you’re all tuckered out, the clenching fading out from your cunt, soaked with slick while it gets on different parts of your skin; from the leg, to one of your obliques, to the small peak of your boob. 
“o-okay, that’s e-enough.” 
“you taste so fucking good,” sana murmurs, mouth hot against the column of your neck. her hands trailing up and down your stomach. “when you clench around my fingers is just—” 
fucking shit this woman. “sana, please.” 
she sits up with a chuckle, and you’re at the same level too, instantly resting your head on her shoulder, kissing it. sana wraps her arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head, her fingers are tapping away at the v-line. you look up and she kisses you, grinning with delight. 
“will you stay over?” you ask, too plaintive when she pulls away. sana’s smile falters and you feeling the realization, disappointment inbound. 
“i can’t.” a spike lances through you. “my department has a meeting early in the morning. i can’t skip.” 
“oh.” you hate yourself for being upset—she’s a doctor, of course she’s busy—but the feeling rises up anyway, along with the insidious notion that she’s gotten what she wanted and so has little use for you now. without thinking, you start to drift away from sana in slow little increments that she catches, and she pulls you up tight against her, pressing her lips to your hairline. 
“i wish i could say,” sana whispers. “if it were up to me, i’d be here with you everyday.” 
the words are cruel, considering what they are–what you are—but the pain is stamped down. masking it with teasing. “how would you work then?” 
“i’m sure my supervisor could find someone else to fill my place. someone as equally ecstatic to dig their hands into some guy’s intestines.”
“you’re so…casual when you talk about your job.” you say out of respite. 
“are you worried?” sana asks. 
“no.” answering while tracing fingers across sana’s chest, over her still-racing heart, before tapping her chin. “but it makes me wonder if i should be.” 
“is the child psychology major going to psychoanalzye me right now? when i’m twenty-nine years old nearing thirty?” 
“you know the issues of childhood can be far-reaching. you never stop feeling the effects of it.” 
“incredible.” you laugh when sana dips her head and takes your finger in her mouth, biting it gently. “but i’ve always been this way.” 
“which is?” 
a half-feral grin spreads across sana’s face before she abruptly flips you over. you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you, long and slow, and settles over you. she breaks away, still grinning. “crazy about you.” 
you’re flushing hotly, which makes her bark out a delighted laugh, and sana kisses you again. over and over and over. her lips trail from your fluttering eyelids to the tip of your nose to your chin, every nook and cranny of your face that she can reach. when her lips meet yours again, you can taste the sugar on her tongue.
“god, i wish i could stay,” sana rasps, breaking away, and you cling onto her. 
“then stay.” 
“if i did, i’d have to leave at 5 to get ready at my apartment in order to be at the hospital on time. also you have an early class tomorrow. chances are i’d wake you up and you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.” 
your jaw tightens, and teeth catch your tongue. you don’t want to accuse sana of making excuses, because you know she’s right; it’s happened before. and that’s what burns you, the idea that your angst could have no standing. the operating off of your injured feelings and nothing substantial. this is transnational after all. 
“okay.” you say, coolly. “guess this is goodbye then.” 
“bye y/n.” sana says, kissing your mouth. “goodnight.” 
sana kisses you several times, smothering you in affection. she only stops after you simple, nipping at your nose once before rising off the bed. you watch as sana peels away off the bed, walking around your room, picking up her clothes from the floor and pulling them on. when she’s done, she strides over to you and slides a nick of your hair back, kissing your forehead. 
“i’ll call you tomorrow, sweetheart.” 
“okay.” 
sana ducks down, skating her nose along the edge of your hairline, keeping her mouth close to your ear. “i’ll see you later.” 
you move your head and catch sana’s lips. against them, whispering. “mn, see you later.” 
you notice with some satisfaction that sana’s eyes are fevered as she pulls away, dark with wanting, and you shove your face back into the pillow, clinging to it. sana mutters a soft curse and makes her way to the door, only to immediately jam the knob when she goes to close it. she mutters a curse again, much louder. 
“just give it a little wiggle,” you say, sitting up. “it gets a little tight sometimes when you twist it.” 
“how long has it been like this?” 
“since i got the apartment.” 
“what the fuck?!” sana exclaims. “did anything else come broken?”
“sometimes the water pressure in my shower is really low.” 
“jesus christ, y/n.” sana says again, louder, angrier. “why haven't you told your landlord?” 
“trust me, i have.” you say shrugging your shoulders. “if i said anything more than that he’d just shut off the water entirely.” 
sana sounds pressed, jiggling the knob harder. “i’ll kill him then.” 
“it’s really not that ba—” 
“i’m coming back next week with a repairman,” sana interjects, tone brokering no argument. “i can fix the doorknob myself but i’ll get a plumber for the shower.” 
you duck your head, embarrassed. “you really don’t have to do that, sana.”
“i want to,” she replies, eyes softening when she looks at you. “i don’t want you living in some shit-hole with no running water.”
“i have running water.” 
“we’ll see what the plumber says.” and with that, sana gives up on fixing the jam and breezes past the doorway. a few seconds later, you can hear sana at the front door shut behind her. with a deep sigh, you fall back into the bed and reach for your pillow, thick with her scent, and curls around it to fall asleep. 
in the morning, you wake up to a ten dollar venmo notification for coffee and the contact information of the plumber sana mentioned. 
“why haven’t you got my calls or texts?” is the first question that mina asks when you answer the phone. you stifle a laugh. 
“well, good to hear your voice mina.”
“you haven’t called me,” she says again. “is everything okay?” 
you sigh and sink into your loveseat, socks skipping over the fractured leather. your fingers cradle the coffee mug. “nothing’s wrong.” you say. “i’ve been really busy.” 
“with what?” 
“school,” is what you reply with. “not sure if you’ve kept up, but i’m in my last year now. i’ve been getting most of the important work done as much as i can.” a second passes before you add, “and communication is a two-way street. you haven’t been calling me either.” 
“busy with work.” is what mina says in defense. 
“see?” you quirk, a sip of coffee passing through your mouth, tapping your fingers on your knee, waiting for mina to speak. neither of you are particularly verbose, so the shared calls usually play out like this: tense silence, quick updates, the voids that harbored resentment. but you’ve grown far from the desire of mina to be soft for you (she has, doesn’t want to admit it) and you’re just accustomed to the dispassion. 
for the final question on the script: “do you need any money from me?” 
“no, mina. i don’t need money from you or auntie.” 
“i assume the tips are good at your job then?” 
“even better.” 
she hums, like this was real answer, saying, “if you ever need anything, call me.” 
“you know it when i do.” 
“okay then.” 
mina hangs up with a click before the goodbye is even truly articulated on the tongue. 
your ears perk up when a knock is heard on the door, moving from your kitchen to walk to the entrance. curious, you open it, only to be swept up into sana’s arms before you can even say hello. she kicks it shut behind her and pins you to the old wood, lips roving over your face. 
“what—” she kisses your mouth twice in quick succession. “—are you doing here?”
“left the hospital for my lunch break,” sana breathes, hitching you up so that a leg is wrapped around her waist. she dips to suck your collarbone, mouth curling when she hears you mewl. “decided to come here.” 
“d-did you eat?” 
“no.” 
sana’s hand slides up from the curve of your ass to your breast, squeezing gently. you moan softly, head thumping against the wood. “you—you should.” 
she separates from your throat to shoot a sly grin. “i’d rather eat you out first.” 
mindless, spurred by sana’s passion, you surge down to kiss her. tightening your legs around her, thighs squeezing as sana’s hand cups your clit. with every pass of the hand, you can feel the shift of your underwear, panties clinging. 
sana buries her hand into your hair, yanking back to expose your throat. she ducks her head to you for another kiss, trailing her lips up and down the line, tongue darting out to taste. her other hand dips down to your ass to bind you up against her, rolling until your toes curl. you sigh and slide your hand into sana’s hair. it would be so easy to just cum from this, but you’d rather put sana’s mouth somewhere else. 
you pull her up by her hair, stomach clenching at the naked want on sana’s face. her eyes, half-lidded and hazy, are trained on your open mouth. when you lick them, her thumb catches your bottom lip. 
“please,” you gasp, moving against sana’s hips. arching. “we need to go to my—” 
sana grins, almost madly, and kisses you hard enough to steal your breath. “what? you’re afraid your neighbors might hear me fuck you again?” 
you blush hotly and sana laughs, but ultimately decides to appease you, heaving you off the wall. she seeks out your lips again and stumbles into the room. impatient, sana kicks open the door, heedless when it slams loudly into the wall. 
you hardly notice also, giddy when sana pushes you onto the bed. it’s a race to get clothes off, pairs of hands fulmbling with the zippers and buttons until sana bats her pants away, you yanking your sweatpants off, meeting for another kiss as she lowers herself over you. you moan loudly when her fingers tease the opening between your legs, feeling the wetness in an instant. 
“my god,” you sigh out, clinging to sana, blood burning beneath your skin; every movement a siren call to your own pleasure. “please, just—just touch me, sana.” 
sana grins rakishly, eyes glittering with mirth. ever the eager observer to your own demise. 
“you’re always so polite, sweetheart.” sana says, and moves down to kiss you. you yourself arch to meet her, pulse skittering at her proximity, at the heady invertibility of mindless pleasure, and—
the lights go out. 
sana stills above you. at first, you’re surprised, waiting for them to flicker back on. this happens sometimes. i mean—the building is old as in 1920s red stone–faulty wiring and out-dated, but nothing comes to fruition. 
“fuck,” you spitt, arousal plummeting to now nothing. you move from under sana. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—” 
“what’s wrong?” sana asks. you rise from the bed and she follows you to the kitchen. you snatch a pile of envelopes from your counter to dig through them, only to stop when you notice that the lighting outside is too dim to see. you sigh heavily, marching over to your couch to read by the flickering candles. sana sits down beside you, eyeing cautiously. “what’s wrong?” 
“the light bill,” you croak. “the rental agency upped the price recently but i must’ve paid the old amount without ven thinking. god, how could i be so stupid?!” 
“you’re not stupid. don’t talk like that,” sana snaps. she then takes a deep breath, voice much calmer when she adds, “and this is an easy fix. if you pay it now, it’ll be back on in a few hours. this shit happens, y/n.” 
“but i don’t–” have the money. you clench your jaw tight, forcing the words down, but sana can see the pain on your face, can hear it lingering in the air, unsaid. 
“i’ll help you—” you shake your head; you don’t like this, the reminder—” let me help you.” 
“no, sana.” 
“it’s not a big deal. i want to.” 
“i can’t ask you to—”
sana suddenly shifts closer and grabs your face, cupping it between her palms. she looks int your eyes, gaze probing.
“let me,’ she cajoles. “you don’t have to bear the burden of this all on your own. if i’m offering to help you, let me help you.” 
your heart swells. with relief. with dismay. “okay.” 
she pecks your lips before standing up, thumb trailing down your cheek. “where’s your laptop? if your account is set up online, i can pay it now. i still have about forty-five minutes until i have to get back so i can wait with you until then.” 
“it’s on my desk.” 
sana nods once, turning on her heel to march into your room. the second she’s out of sight, you bury your face into her hands, burning with shame. 
right after class ends, your phone vibrates. 
you pick it out of your pocket, thumb grayling over your cracked screen to see sana’s contact photo flashing up at you; it was the one taken three weeks ago, with her smiling while you pressed a kiss to her cheek. you’re clicking the green button. 
“hello?” 
“i just realized you’ve never been to my apartment,” sana says, surprising you. “we’ve been together for almost two months and you’ve never seen my house.” 
“oh.” your cheeks flush, pulse skipping at together. “you’ve never really brought it up before.”
“like a fucking idiot. do you wanna come over?” 
your body warms in a near–sudden response, to your eternal horror, and with a bite of your lip. “sure.” 
“cool! i’ll pick you up right now.” 
“you're not working today?” 
“no. i worked eighty hours last week so they gave me a day off. i’m on call, though, which is shitty anyway.” 
“i’m sorry.” 
“it’s fine,” sana dismisses. “so you’re still on campus?” 
“yeah. i just got out of class.” 
“alright, i’ll be there in twenty.” 
“okay. bye.” 
“bye.” sana says, but lingers on the line. for a moment, you think she’s forgotten to hang up, and moves to do it for her until she adds, softly, cutely you might think. 
“i’m excited to see you.” 
your heart thuds, and she hangs up before you can even say something back. 
for twenty minutes, you wait near the entrance of the school, fiddling with your phone until sana texts you to come meet her. finding the car quickly, walking towards the sleek, gray two–seater of her vintage mercedes, and opens the door to see sana grinning at you. a pair of dark sunglasses sit on the bridge of her nose. 
“hi,” sana smiles. 
“hi.” you say back, hating at how shy you still get around her, considering. sana, though, always appears to take a bit of pride to it. 
she chuckles, leaning back in her seat and shifting the car into drive, pulling into the main road. you settle in to watch the hypnotic motion of her hands as she turns the wheel—it almost makes you nostalgic for some reason. 
“so,” sana says, turning onto the street. “how was class?” 
“fine. just sat through a lecture.” 
“about?”  
“well, just the study of psychosocial development of erickson. how the different stages can be embedded by sociological challenges. you don’t want to hear the rest from me.” 
“ah.” you suck a smile in; seeing the cogs in sana’s brain turning. “sounds interesting.” 
“it’s a lot to cover. my professor was telling us about how some guest speaker that’s gonna be presenting next month. apparently she specializes in existential psychotherapy so i’m thinking of seeing that when it comes.” 
“that’s really cool. do you know the name?” 
“no.” you appreciate the effort that sana is showing. elizabeth, as wonderful and cool she was, tended to block you out sometimes: on the occasion she ever needed to. “what about you? how was work?” 
sana groans. “terrible. a guy was rolled in with a bullet wound and was hemorrhaging like crazy. i was able to stop the bleeding and get the bullet out, but the anesthesiologist almost od’d him and killed him. idiot.” 
“wow,” you say. “is he okay now?”
“yeah. but i’m never having that dumbass with me at the table again.” 
“you might have to, though. you’re a new doctor, sana, i don’t know if you have the luxury of writing off your co-workers.” 
sana smirks. “i might.” 
flicking the blinkers on, she turns on the road that leads them deeper into the upper west side. sana drives into a small parking lot behind a tall building before pulling into a space. once the car shifts into park and the keys are yanked out, you step out, mouth parting as you take in the veritable skyscraper in front of you. 
“you live here?!” 
“yeah,” sana says, taking your hand. seeing the stupefied expression, grinning and leading you inside. a red-headed doorman greets sana as you make your way across the lobby. the elevator didn’t even feel like an elevator and once you got past sana’s front door, you’re in full flabbergasted mode—eyes open like saucers. sana smiles at your gasp but when her eyes flicker to you they narrow. 
“i thought it would be a penthouse of sorts.” 
“trust me, it is but at the same time it isn’t.” 
sana’s apartment may not be as lux as you initially thought, but it’s still nice regardless. you can tell that it was costly, dark furniture andwide, open spaces and tall windows. the walls are painted with a light grey. a flat-screen plasma tv hangs in her living room, mounted over a fireplace. the black velvet leather couch is in front of it, clearly brand new. 
her voice echoes the walls. echoes. you’re left marveling. “are you hungry?” sana asks from the dining area, “i have some food from the other day.” 
“what do you got?” 
“some leftovers from this dimsum place, pretty good actually.” 
you giggle. “i thought you would have a much more sophisticated diet to fall back on.” meeting her at the kitchen island while she opens the box of food, tossing a bite into her mouth while you’re scanning through the dumplings. 
“this is delicous.” you say in between bites, sana leaning over pressing a kiss to your temple. “you’re not eating as much, not enough craving?” 
“i had some food earlier.”
“how earlier are we talking?” 
“before i scooped you up.” 
you hum while she feeds you another bite of the warm dumpling that melts so tenderly into your mouth. 
the relaxing downtime with sana felt like a completely different world in her house. you got to know sana’s rough run down backstory of how she got to some form of power when it comes to dealing with which practitioner helps with her or not. being well-connected in her line of work was something to be fortunate with, but sana doesn’t like the idea of wealth being wrapped around her. sure, her clothes may be nice, demeanor brash and language abrasive at times, but she sees the world in a more different light compared to tzuyu and elizabeth on the topic of privilege. 
as for how she got into her career of being a surgeon, she signed up for dual-enrollment in the last two years of her high school to graduate early. the calling of med school already being long in terms of time, so the sooner she could get out, the better. 
“i like that,” you say. “i like how your mind works. i like—”
you. you almost say it. and it aches to not project it, the sudden sting of yearning. you, you, i really like you.
but catching yourself tripping up was something more of a simple defensive mechanism. “the story,” you finish. “pretty funny.” 
“i have better ones.” sana says, grin lighting up her face, more radiant than sunlight. and her obliviousness burns twice as hot. “do you wanna hear about the time my friend bang chan and his best friend felix got mutual restraining orders back in college?” 
you’ve read the name of tobio kageyama for probably the thirtieth time in two manga volumes before your mind decided to call for a needed break. 
sitting upright from the couch, stretching and popping joints across the body. a look at the clock shows that it’s a little past eight, realizing that you’ve studied for roughly about two to three hours. too bad you didn’t notice it before because your brain is already bugging and battered into mush. 
so you head to the kitchen, glass cup filled before drinking it once or twice before noticing that sana hasn’t drank any water since she took up a fortress in her office two hours ago, claiming that she had a work call. you fill another glass again, dropping a few ice cubes, before making your way towards her office door–knocking once, “hey, you busy?” 
sana’s voice sounds muffled, weary. “no, come in.” 
entering the room, hesitant like you were intruding on some sacred space. like the rest of her house, sana’s office was nice, richly-furnished. she has a tall, wooden desk in front of her, several files and stacks of paper placed on top. there’s a bookshelf behind in the corner, thick tomes marked by names that you don’t even want to try to read or recognize. the walls are also painted in a dark gray, and there’s a leather couch off to the left side with a blanket placed over it. even sana needs to have her naps sometimes. 
sana then calls for your attention, glasses perched on the bridge of her perfect nose. “did you need something?” 
“no,” you say, inching closer. raising the glass, “i just wanted to get you some water.” 
she smiles in thanks, taking it from you while she approaches with an outreaching hand, grabbing the glass downing it in one gulp. frowning with a mild concern once she gave you back the glass, “were you thirsty?” 
“a bit. i didn’t feel it until now.” 
“are you hungry?” 
“not right now. i’ll eat when im finished with this.” 
“you should take a break,” you say, stepping towards sana. you lean back with your butt to the edge of her desk, half sitting. up close, you can see sana’s stress more evidently, eyes low with exhaustion. “sit on the couch with me. we can watch something together.” 
“i can’t do that, y/n.” 
“why not?” would a short film be better?” 
“i have paperwork. a lot of paperwork. not to mention forms, test results, patient files. i want to try to get through them by tonight.” 
“and you will,” you reply softly, stepping between her legs, resting your hands on her shoulders. “just ten or fifteen minutes of your time, please.” 
“no way we’re watching a movie in ten minutes.” 
“not the movie, you idiot. i was gonna say food instead, you should eat.” 
“‘m not hungry.” 
“not even a snack?” 
sana lets out a smile, placing her hands on your hips. “i appreciate you for being concerned, baby, but i’ll be done soon. i promise. then we can go get something to eat together.” 
looking down at the ground, hands still on shoulder. you’re smoothening the crinkles of sana’s large shirt, fingers brushing up from her neck up to her hair. you lean down and kiss sana fully on the lips, slowly, once, twice, a few times, and rest your knee on her chair between her legs. you break away a bit to pepper languid kisses across the slope of her jaw. 
“relax,” you croon. “take a break with me.” 
sana sinks into you, sighing like she’s expelling a pressure from deep within her chest. her eyes flutter closed, hands twitching around your waist, and when you dip down to kiss her throat, you feel the flushing heat rising from her body.
desire races to the forefront like a freight train, bowling over you with its inteistiey, and you’re running a hand up her thigh towards the center. sana gasps sharply into your parted mouth, fingers clutching around your waist. you’re nearly smiling. 
“you’ve eaten me out before,” you whisper. “but you’ve never let me do the same for you.” 
sana laughs but it’s off, brimming with echoes of a dark promise. “i find it more enjoyable when i eat up your pussy then have you eat mine. better for me to see you cry the way i want you to.” 
there’s a thrill pulsing through your body, throbbing dully in your cunt. you’re ducking down to kiss her again, practically panging into sana’s open mouth as you palm her through her pants. her face is screwed up with a tight coil of pleasure, eyes shut. her fingers dig into the leather armrests at her side. 
“let me,” you whisper again, almost begging. “i want to.” 
sana’s eyes crack open, solely, regarding you as though you were something to be consumed. i want to, you think with a sort of nameless, desperate sense of urgency. i want you to. 
she nods, and you kneel at her feet. 
you’re kissing through her jeans first, soft, affectionate little pecks that make sana groan, fingers sliding up her legs again. you help sana clumsily unbutton her pants, shucking it down and off her thighs. the panties are quick to follow, only first with a trail of your lips over the black-laced fabric, soaked with her wetness that fills up your nose. sana is wrecked with the effect you have on her, just some light kisses and heavy petting, making your cunt fucking clench; you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who’s wanted you even half as much. 
when sana’s panties are gone left with her shirt; the scent is intoxicating. her folds are glistening. she sighs of pure bliss when you lick up her slit, mouth lingering on her clit. her hips twitch from the initial contact. you stifle a smile when you shower a few more kisses, and she groans loudly when you part her legs, squeezing her inner thighs tightly the more you shove your face into her cunt. 
you’ve eaten out girls before, but sana was more of an anomaly. to play it safe, you experiment, trying to see what she likes best. licking at her, teasing her walls with a finger, leaving teased kisses to the area outside of her pussy. sana can’t contain herself when she pulls your head back in with her hand, moaning into her core, the vibrations too overwhelming coming from your mouth to her legs. 
“fuck,” sana moans. “fuck, y/n–baby, fuck. i’m gonna—” 
nodding at her, you don’t let up the pace of tearing up her cunt. fingers in walls and grunting into her. she doesn’t even let you breathe. the heels of her feet on your shoulders as her hands are on the back of your head, nails scratching the scalp the more you’re lapping her up. only then you pull away as she coos out locking eyes with you, the sight of licking your mouth lean with your tongue from her slick almost makes her lose it from the seat. 
“i’m gonna ruin you,” sana promises, snarling, gaze devouring, mad with want. it sends a deep vibration into your cunt while she looks up to the ceiling. “you won’t be able to walk.” 
you could’ve just came right then and there, vision whiting out at the edges. somehow you kept your sanity in check, ducking your head for more fully. humming and sliding your tongue over her cunt, nibbling on her clit and with a sudden jerk followed by a sharp groan, she cums. 
a whole assortment of papers, files, pens, and pencils are scattered to the floor as sana digs her hand beneath your shirt and rips it off of you. your lips meet hers for another frantic kiss, laying back as she’s settling over you. 
she shoves your sweats down along with your panties, letting them dangle from your feet. sana then moves back to your chest, hands moving like a firebrand, searing your skin with every touch. desperate to feel more of it, you sit up slightly and unclasp your bra. the second you’ve tossed it, sana’s hands are quick to palm, mouth hot against your own as she swallows your keening sigh. 
“you have the most perfect tits in the world,” sana breathes, thumbs circling your nipples, forefingers roving down to pinch. the sweet pleasure-pain sparks a heavy throb in your core, and she arches into you, spreading your legs wide. you moan when sana’s mouth is around your breast, the other hand folding you. 
“god, sana, please,” you beg, clinging to her. your hips are twitching, the emptiness inside you turning into a physical ache. 
“what is it, baby?” sana switches over to your other mound, tongue laving over your nipple. your eyes fluttering, mind spinning at the sight. “what?” 
moaning helplessly, and her hand slides down to your cunt, thumb sliding up the wet gusset of your panties to find your clit. when she presses down, your hips jerk forward, shrieking. she’s laughing around your boob. 
“yeah, there we go,” sana sighs out, rubbing at you languidly, moving slow with the roll of her hips. “that feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“ye—ah—yes, yes it feels good.” 
“i know.” sana kisses up to your throat, sucking the soft spot beneath your jaw, lips deceptively sweet. “but you want more, don’t you.” 
more. 
your stomach seizes at the thought of it, the promise. you grasp at her wrist and sana hisses, dipping her hand beneath underneath your underwear to slide a finger inside you. keening when she adds another digit, stretching you open—another sounds leaves your mouth and sana laughs when you’re clamping around her fingers.
“you feel so good like this, y/n. so good.” she watches as she fucks her fingers in and out of you, transfixed by the sight. almost resentful of her own body. “i wish i could live in you. i wish—” 
“you could,” somehow croaking that out when she has four fingers inside. “i’d let you.” 
sana lets her intrusive thoughts get the better of her, growling while she surges down your body. your panties are up in the air as she raises a leg up, thumb petting your clit. you’re rearing up with a shout, a splintering sound, bursting, but sana doesn’t give you any breathing room. next thing you know, she has the flat plane of her tongue swiping upward that pushes your undoing even faster. 
it’s good enough to cry, you can feel the salt on your tongue when sana leans up again for another kiss before trailing down to your pussy. there’s a malformation with how the kisses are sloppier on your lips above and below, but the pleasure is good. she makes you feel like euphoria is an ever-present force that is kept within you, and it’s much deeper than the sex. the sprawling root of it is happiness, and sana. 
“c’mon, y/n, my lovely girl,” sana says tightly, jaw clenching when she breathes over your clit. her eyes hazy like she might be the one to cum again. “give me another.” 
you wrap your legs around her, canting up so that her mouth and tongue go deeper, and you both moan from it. sana’s finger finds your clit again, so wet the sound is purely obscene, but it only strokes the fire of your pleasure, makes it build higher and higher. 
“that’s it. there we go. t-there—” 
sana stops short. a bitten-off cry, and she doubles down on your clit. her fingers clench around your walls, and there’s a gentle wave—mouth parted to sigh. 
she stays for a second, pulling her hand out examining the slimy fluid between the fingers, licking them seductively that makes you roll your eyes and look away. sana just laughs at you, “fuck you, for making me like this.” 
your head hits the desk, “not sorry. i like it when you’re needy for me.” 
she huffs out, “little minx. when i’m done with you—” 
“what? i won’t be able to walk?” 
sana’s face falls flat, but her eyes spark with lurid determination as she leans in and whispers, “everything i’ve gotten in life, i’ve had solely because i wanted it badly enough. you think that doesn’t apply to the things i wanna do to you?” 
your heart hammers like a jack-rabbit. red-hot heat slowly consumes your face. “i—”
she moves off of you but keeps her arms bracketing your hips. “we’re moving to my room,” she interjects. “i need a bed if i want you to sit on my face.” 
eyes were wide open while you managed to slip out of sana’s hold, scurrying to the bedroom down the hallway. sana’s signature laugh echoes as she chases you down behind. 
it’s a bit chilly outside when mina calls you, the autumn weather creeping beneath your new coat to settle into your bones. hitching the collar up your neck for cover, and the phone is out from your pocket to see your cousin’s name. you’re repressing a sigh, picking up, 
“hey.” 
“yo.” mina has many greetings. “where are you right now?” 
“i got out of class, walking to the subway.” 
“are you by yourself?” 
“yes,” you say. “obviously. why wouldn’t i be?” 
“you usually have that slightly taller girl tagging along with you. the one with the model face.” 
“tzuyu.” you correct sharply. “and you’re not wrong, but she has her own life. you know? a girlfriend?” 
“and you? you got anyone?” 
frozen, stumbling in your tracks. mina could be asking for curiosity, but you know your cousin too well; she’s not the kind to be asking unnecessary questions. 
“no, i don’t,” you answer cautiously. 
“are you sure?” 
“why even bother asking me?” you retort, voice clipped. “even if i was seeing someone. i’d mention it right away, even with thanksgiving around the corner.” 
“i don’t see what thanksgiving has anything to do with it.”
“most normal people introduce their partners to family, mina. not everything personal is some dirty little secret.” 
“don’t you dare try to get snippy with me. i was just asking a question, not cuffing you to a table for an interrogation. chillax.” 
you’re cringing with knitted brows, stepping down the stairwell into the subway station. it’s a lot warmer, “whatever. i just wanted to know why you were asking.” 
“i was asking because you haven’t been calling me lately. i figured that someone else was taking up all of your time besides auntie.” 
your jaw tenses. there’s this wave of guilt that makes your clinch your lip, voice much gentler when you follow up, “i’ve just been busy, mina. you know that.” 
“yeah?” the customary ten seconds of loaded silence pass before mina adds, “speaking of busy, don’t come down for thanksgiving this year. i’m gonna be busy with work.” 
work. the nameless occupation mina had never bothered explaining to you, not since you were in your teens. you’ve had your own suspicions and theories, but you never even had the frame of mind to confirm them yourself. 
even with the disappointment; it’s actually comforting in a weird sense. “that’s fine. i have finals to get ready for anyway.” 
“you’re not upset by this?” 
“no.” 
“and you’re not lying to me about anything, right?” 
“no, mina.” you say, smiling ruefully. “why would i? when have either of us ever lied each other about anything?” 
good as dammed, but there’s no care for it. i wouldn’t even matter anyway. it comes as a concern for how little tinges of that feeling is there still. 
mina sighs out. “talk to you later then, if you do call me.” 
you hang up after. the lasting thought of mina doesn’t even come afterwards. 
not even more than two steps into the entrance hallway when the doorbell calls you. 
you’re freezing, eating away at the fragile patience, but when you look through the peephole. you don’t think twice about opening the door. “tzuyu?” 
she’s standing across from you, arms folded, foot tapping, and pouting. “you’ve been neglecting me.” she accrues.
“huh?” you ask stupidly while blinking in a fast state.
tzuyu rolls her eyes and breezes past you, chilling air carrying the rich scent of yves saint-laurent. you follow her into the living rom, watching her shuck off her louis vutton jacket and tosses it onto the seat. 
“well?” she demands, whirling around to face you. “tell me what did she do to you?” 
“what?” 
“your little sugar mommy-doctor-girlfriend.” 
“tzuyu–” 
“whatever she did, she’s good enough to keep you from calling or texting your best friend for a week.” 
“what?” you’re gasping out again. “a week? i haven’t…” 
with a rush of the phone, you’re pulling up messages only to notice that you have, in fact, been ignoring tzuyu’s texts for the better part of a week. all of your besties messages. the only person you’ve kept consistent contact with is sana, and the last text you sent her was–
well—best to the imagination. 
“i’m so sorry,” you breathe out, throwing your phone off to approach tzuyu, taking her mittened hands, gently directing her to sit on the couch. “i’m so sorry, tzuyu. i didn’t mean to ignore you or shuhua or irene or anyone, i just—” 
“you’ve been preoccupied with your new girl?” 
“yeah,” you admit, bit of shame hanging, but adding, “and school. dooyoung–the guy editing my thesis—says it’s coming together really nicely, so.” 
tzuyu whoops, reaching out to shake your leg. “and you’ll be presenting it next semester! how do we feel about that?” 
“pretty good.” 
suddenly, her eyes soften, shifting closer. “i was mostly kidding, by the way, about you neglecting me. i remember how i was when i first got with shuhua. you couldn’t get me away from her.” 
“it’s different, though.” 
“what makes you say that?” 
“because shuhua is your girlfriend and sana is my—” 
you stop, horrified by the abrupt burn of tears. you turn away to conceal yourself, blinking hard, but tzuyu was always quick to notice. she wraps her arms around your elbow, leaning into your shoulder. “your sugar mommy,” she finishes gently, but you flinch like it’s a slap. 
“yeah. that.” 
“if it bothers you so much, then why are you staying with her?” i’m sure she’s given you enough that you have time to figure out another way to get money. it’s not like you need her.” 
“yeah,” you reply dully, still not meeting eyes with tzuyu. your mind is playing the denial aspect a lot more tougher now. “you’re right. i don’t.” 
with all things and struggles, you compartmentalize. 
you’re refusing to think of the blooming feelings for sana more than you have to, and in the even that you can’t, distraction was the solution: school, work, friends. and on the rare occurrence as crazy it would seem, shopping. 
“an IKEA drawer?” sana asks, baffled. you keep your phone between shoulder to ear. “why the fuck did you go to IKEA?” 
“i needed to,” you answer, pushing the giant box inside of your apartment, leaning against the wall as it’s on the wall. “my other drawer was broken. i’ve had it for like, seventeen years, so i figured that it was time for a change.” 
“and you could afford it?”
a rhetorical question. what sana’s really asking if the two bundred she sent you last week was a decent enough amount that you could splurge on. clenching your teeth, flushing. 
“yes.” 
“y/n, baby. i sent you the money so that you could go shopping.”
“i did. and i shopped at IKEA.” 
“are you gonna build the drawer now?” 
“yeah.” 
“let me come over. i can build it for you/” 
“sana, it’s fine. i’ve built furniture before.” 
“so have i. in fact, i bet i could have it done in half the time it takes you to read the instructions.”
“oh really now?” cocking a brow in disbelief. “how soon can you come over?” 
time didn’t really pass, staring at sana from the bed, chin resting on your palm as you watch her hiss and curse to herself, pink screwdriver in hand. the sweat rolls enticing down the hard ridges of her abs, her hair is up and out of her face in a knot. the most exhilarating part in all of this was watching him use her shirt as a sweat rag. 
“are you sure you don’t—”
“i’m almost done,” sana snaps, eyes flashing with indignation. “just give me ten more minutes.” 
true to her word, she was nearly done. the drawer stands tall in front of her, most of the pieces already constructed and put into place. all that’s missing is the top set of the drawers, which she has in her hands right now. 
still, it’s only mildly entertaining just to watch sana. you debated studying to pass the time, but the focus wasn’t enough on your book to make it stick. reading was also out of the question, and texting irene went nowhere after she revealed that she was on a date and couldn’t speak. the news that things with her and seulgi were going well and exciting to hear, but not long after. sana’s shirt was off. 
“it’s really fucking hot in here,” had been the excuse mainly. 
“is this supposed to keep me distracted? you ask. 
“i’m not trying to do anything. if you’re distracted, that’s your prerogative.” 
liar. she’s been annoyed the second you stopped foching on her long enough to try facetime tzuyu. 
you sigh, spitefully debating on what you can do to fluster sana. the limited options, though, tend to lean more in one direction and the idea of willfully doing any of them was embarrassing. 
suddenly, she whoops. “i finished!” 
you roll over on your stomach to see sana sliding the drawer into the top slot, circling it, pulling on different knobs to test the tightness and checking for smoothness of the pulling out and pushing in of the drawers. she grins at you, triumphantly. “i told you i could do it.”
“i never said that you couldn’t.” 
“it was in your tone.”
you smile, and sana straightens up to bend something in her body. a loud crack sounds, followed by a pained sigh, and her eyes open more glazed. “fuck.” 
soon after sana is laid flat on the mattress when you motioned her, face turned towards you with a look that says are you okay? 
“my back. it’s been annoying me since work—fuck.” 
you nick your head as you cautiously glide your hands over her skin, kneading the muscle softly, and sana just hums with relief. “keep doing that.” 
straddling on sana’s ass, languidly moving your fingers up. she just melts. sana perks up when you giggle. “what?” 
“nothing.” 
“tell me.” 
“i think it’s kinda bad for you to have back pain at your age, and it’s kinda mindblowing how active you are.”
“don’t be that dramatic, i’m not that old.” 
“for someone that’s near thirty.”
“that’s a bit harsh.” 
you giggle again before leaning down, lips skimming sana’s ear lobe. “i’m just teasing you.”
“you’re so fucked up for saying that, i’m only twenty-nine still.” 
“don’t be so sensitive.” you say pressing a kiss to her nape. “not bad if you're in your early late twenties early thirties while i’m in my early twenties.” 
sana sinks into you, like clay in your hands. when you move to the ridge of her cheekbone, she leans into you, turning her head to catch your lips. a languid kiss is shared, tongues melding, unhurried, but that fire is sparked between your hips and it becomes urgent. it’s a slow grind that’s rolled out, eyes fluttering at the friction. 
you pull away while sana breathes out, “fuck,” and flips you over now that you’re straddling over her front. your hands are on her waist, and sana moves her leg up between your legs, doubling down on the notice that you’re not wearing anything underneath the shorts, lips parting. 
she leans up to kiss you. sana always kisses you, mouth consuming like she wants to suck you inside. “i didn’t know you watching me build furniture would get you so hot.”
“everything you do gets me hot.” 
sana moans and binds you up against her, hips bucking, delicious friction sending stars behind your eyes. you wrap your arms around her neck, panting into her mouth, so euphoric that you want to weep. so happy. 
when she breaks way to squeeze your breasts, a loud knock sounds at the door, startling you. sana, however, is unmoved.
“ignore it,” she says, breath hot on your neck. “ride me.” 
your eyes flutter and you’re grasping at her hair, already picturing it, the slick coming out of you on her leg, the fruition and contact deep enough to send you reeling. and then you hear it: 
“y/n!” another loud knock, more insistent. “open the door!”
shit, you think, cursing, the word flying form your mouth now. “shit, shit.” 
sana pulls away from you, concerned, but you’re already beating her in the scramble. she watches you rush to the mirror to fix your hair. 
“what’s up? who is that?” 
“mina,” you breathes, cold panic pulsing through your veins. “my cousin.”
“oh, well—”
“it’s a bigger deal than you think,” you snap. “and stay here. she can’t see you.” 
sana’s eyes widen. “what–?” 
“stay here, sana.” 
you rush out of the room and hurry towards the front door. through the peephole, you see mina on the other side, arms crossed and expression stoic. you exhale deeply before opening the door, forcing a smile. 
“hi, mina.” 
she hums in greeting, shoulders knocking as she walks past you. when she spots the IKEA box, she stops short. 
“you bought furniture?”
“yes,” you answer hesitantly, clammy fingers clasped behind you. “i needed a new drawer.” 
“why didn’t you tell me?” 
“i need to call you every time i buy furniture?” 
“no. but these things sell for three hundred bucks. it’s expensive.”
“this one was on sale. one–fifty.” 
mina makes a deep sound in her throat, unsatisfied, but her journey is continued throughout your apartment. 
“so, uh. what are you doing here?” 
“it’s thanksgiving tomorrow.” 
“oh. i thought…you told me not to come. you said you were busy.” 
“some time opened up in my schedule,” she says, and finally stops long enough to look at you. her eyes were shrewd, filled with knowing. it only raises the sirens going off in your head louder. “i decided to come see you.”
“ah,” you breathe. “well, um. i didn’t buy any food. maybe we can order–?” 
“why are you so flustered? mina interrupts. “is there something going on?” 
“what? no, no, of course–”
“mina?” icy pinpricks poke your skin, and you slowly turn around to see sana standing in the hallway. her clothes and hair have been fixed, and she smiles at mina with a polite curiosity. 
your cousin’s expression sours instantly. “who the fuck is this?” 
“mina!”
“who is this. why is she in you apartment?!” 
sana walks towards mina, unphased by the insult. she sticks her hand out, “my name is minatozaki sana. nice to meet you.” 
mina peers at sana, neck tilted at an angle that would be comical if not for the fact that you feel like throwing up. finally, she looks at you again. 
“we need to talk.”  
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stevie-petey · 4 months
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we thought love was something (we weren't meant to find)
﹂ season two of "come home"
as you approach a year since will's disappearance, things seem to be back to how they were. you still have jonathan and the boys, hawkins is boring again, and you and steve harrington aren't really friends. you convince yourself that it's fine, but time can't heal all wounds, and you sure as hell have your fair share of them. when will starts having episodes and your brother hides a literal monster from you, junior year becomes a lot more painful than it already was. (and because you can never win, steve gets dragged into it). (more complicated feelings arise). (as usual).
episode one: MADMAX - what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !
episode two: trick or treat, freak - you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.
episode three: the pollywog - you lecture jonathan about daddy issues and then have an intellectual debate about healthy relationships, you play Mr. Love Dr with Steve, nancy and jonathan go on a sick side quest (and actually inform you this time !), meanwhile: you're about to put a leash on your damn brother.
episode four: will the wise - jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?
episode five: dig dug - you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.
episode six: the spy - dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.
episode seven: the mind flayer - jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).
episode eight: the gate - you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.
⌑ set between seasons 2 and 3
﹂ episode nine: the fall - surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !
⌑ status: FINISHED
⌑ season two title based on this song x
⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x
⌑ “come home” season masterlist
*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)
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ktsumu · 5 months
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A CHILDHOOD BEDROOM tw: allusions to divorce/his family dynamic, holiday comfort for the soul
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Ushijima’s bedroom is nothing like the one you share. 
His walls are bare, save for a few frames with pictures that are older than the two of you. There’s a bulletin above his desk that’s naked down to the cork, a few tacks littering it at random.
He has his dresser, a small mirror on the wall hanging above it. The room is nearly devoid of colour aside from beige and navy, but the Christmas lights from the house across the street give it some red and green. Not much, but it’s good enough.
You walk along the perimeter of the room, the floors cold, hands tracing over his desk and chair. He watches you from the doorway, the door closing softly behind him as he does. You hear the same floor creak beneath his feet as he crosses to his bed, the frame sighing under his weight.
A print-out picture of him and a redhead (Satori, he’s mentioned) standing side-by-side in school uniforms is framed on said desk, thumbs up on all four of their combined hands. A team in maroon stands tall beside it, and he’s dead center. A three-person family — father, mother, boy — takes up the space beside that, the frame much more sophisticated than the others. He looks about ten.
The clock on his wall tells the time wrong; it hasn’t been reset since he graduated and moved out at eighteen. It looks like it’s a few hours behind, but it’s really telling you time six years back. 
“Your walls are so bare,” you comment, turning back to look at him where he’s sat. He offers an almost unnoticeable, lopsided smile. “Where are all the medals, huh? I’ve heard big things about Ushiwaka the Great, you know.”
You’re joking, but he answers, “In my drawer.”
(You check; it’s full of them.)
Ushijima watches you hold them, looking at all of the engravings before setting them back, the years stretching further back the deeper that you dig. It’s like your chest is swelling with pride over things he won before you knew him. 
“What is it?” he asks, eyes following you as you cross over to his bed, sitting down to face him. His brows furrow, leaning his back against the headboard that looks so comically small; then his lips tug up at the sight of gold around your neck. His teenage pride rests on your chest.
There is something so invasive about a childhood bedroom, about wearing what once was his entire life as he looks at it — a whole life you didn’t have the chance to watch lays itself out in front of you. This childhood doesn’t exist anymore (maybe it never really did) and yet you see it around you all the same. 
(It is invasive, but it is full of love. An empty room that feels so full.)
“Why doesn’t your mother display your medals in the house?” you ask, tilting your head. “Hell, my mom would’ve lined mine up in the window. And your desk is like a trophy factory.”
 “It’s not practical, I suppose.”
“So they just sit in here?”
Ushijima looks at you like he’s in thought. 
He shrugs. “Mostly,” he says, “my father has a few in California. My player portrait is on his office wall. My mother shows her affection in her own way.”
“Can we take some back home?”
“Why? They’re old.”
“I don’t mind,” you say, shrugging. “I’ll display them around the room for a bit, swap ‘em out when you rack some up this season.”
Ushijima just chuckles shortly, shaking his head as he moves down the bed, laying down flat. His feet hang off the end a bit, and the pillows are the same as they always were. “If you wish. You know I never stop you from anything.”
You hum. “God, does it echo in here?”
“Sometimes. It never used to.”
“When did it start?”
He knows when. “I’m not sure.”
You know, too. “That’s okay. Our room at home doesn’t echo, at least.”
“No, you won’t let it.”
“Never.”
Ushijima reaches out a hand, his left, and he twirls the medal you picked in his hand. You wear it still, and it looks like it gleams. His eyes flicker up to yours. 
“I love you,” you tell him. “You and your empty room.”
He sighs a laugh, one you taught him how to make, and he pulls you into his chest by the ribbon around your neck. He breathes, your head rises and falls with his chest, and the room comes alive; breathing with its maker, welcoming him home the best it can. You certainly help.
Ushijima looks at his bedroom walls, his broken clock; the house is not resetting, his parents’ old bed will always be half full and half made, but he thinks this is enough — coming back with you was enough. Now, when he leaves, he will remember a warm bed and leave to sleep in a warmer one. 
“Love?”
“Mm?”
“When we find a home we like enough to live in,” When. Not if, when. “I’d like to paint the walls with you.”
“Ooh, what colour?”
“Not white — or beige.”
You grin, angling your head up to see him. Ushijima is looking up at his clock, six years behind like he just got home from training camp, his boxes packed for the city.
(He meets you two years later.)
“Pick a swatch, baby. Just no neons.”
“Oh. I was thinking of a traffic cone orange.”
“Ha-ha.”
629 notes · View notes
slutforln4 · 4 months
Text
SUMMER BREAK
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🖇️ in which you and your new teammate get off on the wrong foot.
🖇️ request from a lovely anon who i totally don't know personally! hope it fits your expectations :)
🖇️ warnings: it's pretty lengthy, enemies to lovers.
🖇️ lando norris x mclaren.racer!reader
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mclaren
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, yourusername and 574,784 others
mclaren Welcoming our newest driver, Lando Norris, to the Papaya family! @/landonorris 🧡
comments
landonorris 👊🧡
user1 omg i'm so excited for this new duo
mclaren
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 598,837 others
mclaren First race of the season 🧡
tagged | yourusername, landonorris
comments
yourusername rockstars as fuck
landonorris trackstars, more like?
yourusername do i look like i run
landonorris wouldn't know, i'm usually ahead of you 😇
user2 PLSSSS
user3 what's this rivalry, where did it come from..
user4 lando be nice
landonorris don't wanna
user5 lord give us patience with these idiots.
yourusername
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liked by mclaren, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 768,983 others
yourusername pit? stopped. p? ONE BABYYYY 🧡
comments
mclaren 🧡
yourusername best team ever
user6 lando's probably fuming rn
danielricciardo omg congrats girlie 🥹🌟💕
yourusername ty princess 💪
landonorris 🙏(🙄)
yourusername what's that about being ahead of me?
maxverstappen1 Is this the appropriate time to use the term "gagged"?
yourusername yes
maxverstappen1 Gagged.
landonorris i hate you guys
landonorris
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liked by mclaren, danielricciado, carlossainz55 and 758,847 others
landonorris P5 for my first race with McLaren, not bad. 💪🧡
comments
mclaren coming in strong 🫨
landonorris you know it 💪
yourusername how's the view from back there?
landonorris you stink
yourusername i know you ain't talking...
user7 PLS I LOVE THEM SO BAD 
user8 girl they hate each other... 
user7 let them cook, you'll see
[little interview moment]
interviewer: Amazing race today! How's the new car? Overall emotions for the new season? 
y/n: The car is so smooth, the McLaren team did such a great job with it this year. I'm so excited to be back and driving, and it feels really nice to finally get back on the track, y'know. Been training over the break and i feel like I'm ready for this season. 
interviewer: That's amazing. Seems like all that training paid off, huh? 
y/n: Always, I have the best personal trainers and the best support system within this team. It's what's kept me going for four seasons now. 
interviewer: And, speaking of, you have a new teammate this year. What's that like? How're you getting along with Lando Norris?
y/n: I'm always excited to see how I'm able to work with different types of people, and he's... different, to say the least. It'll take some time adjusting to our dynamic, but I hope we can work well together on the track. 
interviewer: The internet seems to be speculating some rivalry between you two. How do you think that'll impact your relationship on the track? 
y/n: There's not much to say honestly, I feel like he's just adjusting to this new team, as well as having a strong competitor.
---
interviewer: Lando! Amazing start to your first season with McLaren. 
Lando: Yeah, somewhat. 
interviewer: Fans seem ecstatic about you working with McLaren, especially y/n. Though, they seem to be wondering whether or not you're intimidated by her, because of the sudden rivalry between you two. 
Lando: I'm not intimidated by her at all, neither is she intimidated by me. I feel like there's a lot I could learn from her, maybe some strategies for a win, which is what I'm aiming for. 
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No matter how many of them you attend, press conferences don't get any less stressful. 
You're sat in front of a room full of people with raised hands and cameras aimed at your face. To the left of you sits Max Verstappen, happily chatting away with you while your teammate, Lando, sits to the right of you. He has his arms crossed over his chest, brows knitted together in thought. 
"Okay, let's start," one of the interviewers begins when he's allowed by the manager of the conference. "Good to see you, Y/N, still in your champion pace. Can we expect that from you for the whole season?" 
From the corner of your eye, you see Lando quietly scoff, still with crossed arms and furrowed brows. "Uh," you avert your attention back to the question. "Yeah, I mean. I've been at this pace for four seasons now and I'm positive I can keep it up." 
Lando, once again, rudely scoffs.
Sure, you've been winning races left, right and centre, but that's been the case for your whole career at McLaren. Lando knew who he'd be competing against when he joined this team, so why is he being so childish? 
The next interviewer asks Lando about his experience with McLaren so far. "Well, I'd say it's been going well." 
"Do you think you will get some wins this season?" Another interviewer asks, annoying Lando with the question. 
"Absolutely," he answers, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "I'm here to learn from the best and get more experience in racing." 
"I bet Y/N could teach you lots." The interviewer smiles at Lando, but he simply shakes his head. "Tha-" 
"I wasn't talking about Y/N," Lando cuts the interviewer off. "There's plenty more racers with more experience than her who I'm willing to learn from. Just 'cause she gets wins doesn't mean she's the best." 
Those words caused an awkward silence to settle in the room. Lando's eyes were on his watch and your eyes were on him. 
Max leans into a microphone, "Someone shat in Lando's cereal this morning, sorry. I'm pretty sure he meant that Y/N is far too advanced to teach at his level." 
The interviewers laugh at his joke and you turn to Max with a soft smile, he reciprocates the same. "Thank you." You whisper quietly enough for only Max to hear. 
The press conference continues as usual, except that Lando doesn't get any more questions. You and Max answer them all and cause the interviewers to laugh at your jokes all while your teammate sits there, bored out of his mind. 
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You feel upset and very confused as to why Lando's being so rude to you. You've been letting him do his thing, never got in his way in the garage and barely engaged in conversation with him. 
Even when you did, he'd be snarky and reply using sarcasm most of the time. But this? This was new. He has never insulted your skills on the track, and you didn't even know he felt like that. 
You never considered yourself as 'the best' driver on the grid, and obviously there's people that are more experienced than you, but the way Lando expressed himself made you quite confused. 
You catch Lando in the McLaren lounge when he's alone and walk over to him. He's sat on the couch, scrolling on his phone when you approach him and tap his shoulder.
Lando turns his head to look at you. "What do you want?" 
"Can we talk?" 
Lando's brows furrow and he already looks annoyed. "About...?" 
"Why you're being a bitch to me." Your answer causes Lando's eyes to widen, yet his lips rise at the corners into a small smirk. 
"I'm not," he shrugs and goes back to scrolling on his phone. You roll your eyes and grab the phone out of his hands. "Wha-" 
"I don't know what exactly is wrong with you or why you're being a fucking cunt to me, but we're both part of the same team so act like it." The anger in your usually calm voice made Lando confused about whether he should feel threatened or turned on. 
You take a breath and continue speaking. "If this is about me winning races-" 
"It's not." He sharply cuts you off. You notice a hint of something in his voice, but choose to ignore it. 
"Then what the fuck is your problem?" You push further, noticing the slight smirk of his. 
"Nothing." Lando shrugs. "Can I have my phone back?" 
You roll your eyes, dropping it in his lap before turning around and walking as far away as him as possible. 
There were a lot of teammates you've had. All of them were so different from one another, but none of them were as insufferable as Lando Norris. 
There's something about him that irks you. Maybe it's his competitiveness, maybe it's him being younger than you by a few years but acting like he's still a middle schooler. 
Maybe it's the fact that he's good enough to beat you, soon.
Lando’s feeling… something. 
There’s some sort of deep-seeded feeling blooming in his chest when his eyes fall on your figure, standing in the McLaren garage and talking to some of the engineers. It’s part envy, part anger, part… attraction? No, can’t be. There’s no way he finds you attractive. 
There’s absolutely nothing about you that he could find attractive. Not a thing. 
Yet, despite ‘not being attracted to you at all’, his eyes are stuck on the way your face doesn’t change emotions when speaking. He can’t tell if you’re excited or bored. That intrigues him. The only time he saw emotion in your face was when you confronted him in the lounge. Maybe that’s when he started noticing you more. 
Maybe that’s when he started to grow a sort-of liking to you. 
Yeah. Lando’s screwed. 
He knows he’s more screwed when he’s so zoned into you, he doesn’t notice when your figure comes closer to him. 
You’re right in front of him when he snaps out of it. “You alright?” 
“Uh,” he looks down at you, slightly confused. Since when do you worry about his well-being? That’s kinda sweet, albeit odd. “Yeah? Why?” 
Lando watches as your shoulders rise with a shrug. “No reason.” He notices the small smirk playing on your lips as you turn your head and look at something. 
“Spit it out,” he rolls his eyes, despite being intrigued by you. 
You look back at him, biting your bottom lip to suppress your growing smirk. “Just wanted to make sure you’re ready to see the back of my car again.” 
And there it is. 
The cockiness never left your system, even after your little argument in the lounge. He notices the smirk now freely playing on your lips. Considering the fact that you’re usually rocking a resting bitch face, Lando found that quite cute, yet infuriating. “Wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you.” 
Your eyes go wide and the smirk slowly dissolves at his words. “Right, uh. Good luck with the race.” You mumble and Lando can’t help but watch as you scurry away, with a small smirk on his face. 
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landonorris
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liked by mclaren, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 857,938 others
landonorris P1 Monaco baby!!! 🧡
comments
mclaren 🧡💪
user9 omgggg he did it 🥹
user10 so proud of our boy 🫶🏻
yourusername 💪(🙄) 
landonorris lightwork 🥱 
maxvertsappen1 💀 (Am I using the emoji right?) 
yourusername who’s it meant for 
maxverstappen1 I wanna bully Lando 
yourusername you’re using it perfectly 🫶🏻
landonorris i hate both of you so much. 
user11 LMAOOO 
user12 are we forgetting the interview … 
user13 everyones trying to forget the interview.
user12 you’re right, i’m sorry
user14 i’m convinced the only reason y/n comments on his posts is the pr team forces her, cause who in their right mind would want to interact with lando nowins 💀 
user15 you saying this under the post where he won… awks 
user14 my point is that he’s absolutely unbearable! the interview proves it! 
yourusername i commented because he deserved to win and the banter is all in good fun :) don't take it as an opportunity to hate on my teammate, thank youuu liked by landonorris
mclaren
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liked by landonorris, yourusername, danielricciardo and 987,847 others
mclaren Lando in summer fashion before the break. 🏖️ (Why is there no beachball emoji?)
comments
user16 admin asking the real questions 
landonorris facts. why IS there no beachball emoji?
yourusername you should sue apple 😝
landonorris i so should, thanks for the tip 
yourusername you’re welcome 👍
user17 uh. what
user18 lando rockin the helmet but yn’s out here SUPPORTING HIM? 
user19 no bc what is this madness
user20 mom pick me up im scared
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, mclaren and 1,353,857 others
yourusername i love the beach but i miss racing so bad, someone take me home (the track)
comments
mclaren miss you! 🧡
yourusername miss u more ☹️
user21 who is that man
user22 MOTHER???? WHO IS THAT
user23 why the fuck is this post liked by lando. 
landonorris i could take you home 😏
yourusername i’d rather sleep on a bed of nails, thanks 
maxverstappen You tell him girl 😜
landonorris 😐
user24 lando must’ve hit his head because what the fuck. 
user25 did lando just?
user26 i think he did. 
user25 no but what happened to …??
user26 i wish i knew. 
user27 not lando flirting under a post with her new man… uhmmmm
danielricciardo
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liked by landonorris, yourusername, charles_leclerc and 643,837 others
danielricciardo reppin' that Enchanté drip 💪
tagged | landonorris, yourusername
comments
landonorris you know it bro 😎 
user28 is that y/n in the background 🤭
user29 i was fine without knowing this thanks
user30 i’m connecting the dots. 
user31 closing my eyes, ignoring the obvious
user32 the obvious being… 
 user31 y/n in the background. she’s literally tagged. 
user32 oh! 
user31 out of sight, out of mind 💅
landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,283,837 others
landonorris 🌞💛
comments
mclaren 👀🧡
user33 what.
user34 double soft launch from the mclaren racers??? what is today. 
user35 anyone else wondering who their partners are? 
user36 girl i have some NEWS for you
user37 who’s that woman. 
landonorris daniel ricciardo
danielricciardo babe i thought we weren’t telling people… 
landonorris sorry 😏🧡 can’t keep you a secret much longer
maxverstappen1 You can’t be serious. 
yourusername can confirm they kissed in the ocean, was very romantic
user38 what is this fucking break. 
user39 put them back in their cars, they’re going crazy  liked by yourusername
There’s a thin line between love and hate. 
You and Lando learnt that the hard way. All those insults and all the banter wasn’t because of some random hate for one another, but rather some sort of attraction. Lando was first to notice it. 
A month before summer break, he approached you and asked to talk. With no clue what could go right, you agreed and he took you to his racer room. 
You noticed that glint of something in his eye, that hesitance in his voice and the barely-visible shake of his hands. One odd thing after another couldn’t have prepared you for what he’d say next. 
“I wanted to ask if you’d like to go out to dinner sometime.” 
There was a tinge of hope to his voice, a shaky exhale following his question. You looked at him for a second, trying to find the moment he breaks out into a laughing fit for making you ‘hopeful.’ But he didn’t. And you felt bad, because you laughed at his question rather than accepting it, like you were going to. 
Before you could stop him, he was walking out the room with a pained look in his eyes. Something in your chest felt like it broke. You had run after him, but to no avail. He wouldn’t turn around no matter how much you called for him. 
A week later, everything felt like it went back to normal, or as normal as you and Lando’s relationship could get. He was back to bantering and you were back to teasing, and you wished him luck on the race he managed to win. 
Lando thinks you may be the good luck charm he needed. 
Sure, he’s been a bit of a dick, but it’s all because he was so confused about his feelings. That doesn’t excuse it at all and he knew that when he spoke to you the second time. 
The second time around, you didn’t laugh. You stood there, watching as he subconsciously tapped his fingers on the table as he sat on it, telling you his side of things. 
“I didn’t want to be a dick, but I didn’t know how to be nice without digging myself a hole I wouldn’t be able to climb out of.” He admits. 
You smiled at that. “Seems like you did that anyway.” 
Lando exhaled a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in, a small chuckle escaping past his lips. “Yeah.” He bites his bottom lip to hide the small smile on his face. “So, uh. I’m sorry for all of that and I completely understand your reaction when I asked you out last time.” 
“You left before I could answer.” You pointed out, his ears perking up and eyes immediately locking onto yours as he anticipates whatever you say next. “I laughed because it seemed silly to hear something like that coming from *your lips. But now it makes sense, I guess.” 
“And…?” Lando urges. He’s as impatient as you knew he was and that made you smile a little. 
You walk up to where he sits on the desk, your hands coming up to flatten out the suit around his shoulders. “I’d love to go out to dinner with you, Norris.” 
So, you went out to dinner the following day. And then again the next day. And then, after about five dinner dates, Lando suggested you came over to his and he’d cook dinner for both of you.
That went as well as you’d expect it. But thankfully, Lando’s place is close to a pizza shop so you two ordered a delivery, laughing about Lando’s inability to cook for the rest of the night. 
When McLaren was closing up for the summer break, you, Lando, Daniel, Carlos, Max and Charles planned a trip to the prettiest beach you could find. 
Conveniently, you were assigned a plane seat next to Lando. He slept on your shoulder and you held his hand. But he wasn’t actually sleeping. How could he fall asleep, when your touch made his heart speed up faster than the car he races in? 
At the beach house, Daniel purposely planned out the rooms so you’d have to share with Lando. Charles was paired up with Carlos, Max was paired up with Daniel, so that meant that you were left with Lando. The best part? Neither of you minded. 
And guess what. The room you two had left was the master bedroom with one bed. Not much sleeping was done for the first two nights. 
Lando laid awake on the first night, as far to the left of the bed as possible while you laid comfortably on the right side. You were sound asleep, quiet snores falling from your parted lips. Lando watched as you slept, feeling like a creep, but also feeling so hopelessly in love. 
You woke up halfway through the night, Lando still awake but pretending to be asleep, just so he doesn’t seem like a total weirdo. Lando listened as you got up and made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, grabbing his phone and pretending you woke him up. He heard the pitter patter of your feet and closed his eyes half-way, looking at his you with a squint. 
Even at four in the morning, you looked absolutely breathtaking. 
“Did I wake you?” You ask, when you set your glass down on the nightstand and sit back down in bed. Lando feels bad when he sees the apologetic look in your face. 
“No, I’ve been awake.” He admits, lying back down comfortably, as far away from you as he could be. 
You furrowed your brows at him. “Why are you so far away? Come here.” Your hand pats the middle of the bed and you scoot closer when he does. Lando’s hesitant, but when you lay your head on his chest, all the worries leave him. His arms wrap around you and finally, he falls asleep to the feeling of your soft breaths on his bare skin. 
The next night, neither of you could fall asleep. Mostly due to what happened during the day. 
You were at the beach and having fun with all of the guys. Lando was sat beside you, in front of you, Daniel was playing football with Max and the two Ferrari drivers were out to buy drinks for the evening. 
The sun was warming up your skin, tan-lines guaranteed to be seen when you get back inside. You were lying on your stomach and watching Lando as he watched you, a small smile on both of you’s faces.
It felt like the perfect moment. The moment.
Lando started leaning in and so did you, and the next thing you know, Daniel’s laughing at the ball landing beside you and leaving both of you sandy. 
Angry looks were shot Daniel’s way and he just shrugged, suggesting they all got into the water to wash the sand away. Lando immediately un-buttoned his shirt and dropped it on your beach towel. You did the same and ran after him into the water. 
You noticed that Daniel didn’t get into the water and that he grabbed his camera, for whatever reason. 
The water’s warm, salty, relaxing. Completely opposite your job, yet it made you miss it. Lando swims around you and when his hands creep to your waist, you wrap your arms around his neck. He doesn’t waste time and leans in, connecting his lips to yours. 
Daniel, of course, snaps a few pictures and sends them to Lando. And Lando posts one of them. And you’re not sure how to feel. Obviously, he didn’t point out that it’s you. He didn’t tag you, didn’t even say anything in the caption, but it made you uneasy. 
The picture you posted was just of your shadows, so no one could really tell who it could be, meanwhile Lando’s picture had a clear outline of you. And everyone under the post were pointing it out.
You didn’t tell Lando that it made you feel uncomfortable, and you didn’t need to. He knew. 
“Can we talk about it?” Lando turns to you, after what feels like eternity. You look at him. “I should’ve asked, I’m sorry.” 
“It’s fine.” You brush it off. You lay on Lando’s chest again and he wraps his arms around you. You don’t want to say that what irks you most is that he hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. 
Lando doesn’t want to rush it. He’s not sure how to act without ultimately screwing it all up. 
But, after Daniel urging him and Max bullying him for taking so long, Lando does ask you. 
The day before you fly back home, he sits you down and asks you to be his. 
yourusername
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yourusername slim shady (my cat) loves him and i do, too 🤍
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© 2023 slutforln4. all rights reserved.
🖇️ why the fuck can i only upload 30 images. how's a girl meant to format a fic cutely with only 30 pics? so fake.
562 notes · View notes
greynatomy · 6 months
Text
protective
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arsenal x reader
some family dynamics with reader and the team
———
You signed your first professional football contract when you were seventeen with Arsenal. Ever since then, your teammates became very protective of you. You were assigned to live with Lia, who instantly took you under her wing.
At the time, Lia and Caitlin had been together and became your team parents. They would make sure you’ve packed everything you needed for away games, packed you lunches, whatever parents did and you very much enjoyed the attention. Even when you went on loan for a season all the way to California for Angel City, they made sure to get Christen’s phone number to make sure you were bing taken care of.
What you hated though, was how protective they were of you and that protectiveness passed onto the rest of your Arsenal teammates and when you were called up to the Lionesses, Leah and Beth’s protectiveness passed onto the rest of your national teammates.
Fast forward four years later, you’re now twenty-one, still living with Lia, minus Caitlin. You loved to call yourself a child of divorce, the ex-couple finding it amusing.
Right now, you and Lia were walking into Emirates Stadium to get ready for the match. You walk over to your cubby right next to you other mom.
“Hey, babes. Did you take a nap?” Caitlin pulls you into a hug, kissing the side of your head. You only nod, still feeling the sleepiness.
You get ready in your game kit, putting your warm up shirt over. Grabbing your hairbrush and some hair ties, you walk over to where Steph is, sitting on the ground between her legs, where she starts doing your hair, no questions asked, on of the perks of being the team baby.
Running onto the pitch, you start to warm up, partnering with Kyra. Couple minutes in, the fans started cheering, louder than any cheer you’ve heard just during warmups.
“Hey, isn’t that the girl you’re always watching?”
“What? Like I’m some stalker?” Your eyes wide, not sure what Lia meant when she walked up to you.
“No, like movies and that show she did. What was it? Wednesday or something?”
You look up to where she’s pointing on the big screen, seeing none other than Jenna Ortega. Your eyes instantly lights up, not knowing she would be at your match, or even in England.
Before your teammates knew it, you were up in the stands giving her a big hug.
“That doesn’t look like a very platonic hug, doesn’t it?” Katie asks Caitlin.
With her brows furrowed, she walks over to her ex-girlfriend asking if she’s seeing the same thing.
“She needs a good talking to.”
“Her or the girl?”
“We’ll talk to our kid and make Leah talk to the girl.”
“Ah. Good thinking.”
Walking towards where you were on the stands, they both call you over, saying it’s time to go back through the tunnel.
“Well, those are my mums. I’ll see you after the game so don’t go anywhere.”
You give Jenna a crooked grin. She lifts a hand up to cup your cheek, giving it a little pinch.
“You’re too cute. I’ll be sure to stay here.”
“Okay. See you later!”
Giving her a quick hug, you run off to Caitlin and Lia, them wrapping an arm each around you.
“Who was that?”
“Yeah, when’d you get a girlfriend?”
Your eyes go wide and purposefully ignore the questions, running away from them.
———
The match starts with Arsenal’s possession. Everything’s been all back and forth so far.
Meanwhile, Leah makes her way to the stands where your very popular guest is sitting.
“Mind if I sit here?” Leah asks, pointing at the empty seat next to the brunette.
“No, go ahead.”
Getting comfortable, the two watch the match, not really acknowledging each other. Leah, the great speaker that she is, is having a hard time to give the apparent girlfriend of her little cub the ‘talk’.
“How rude of me. I’ve not introduced myself. I’m Leah.”
“Jenna.” She shakes Leah’s hand that was held out to her.
“It’s very nice to meet you Jenna.”
“You as well.”
“Okay. Now, I saw that you know our baby gunner over there.”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, yeah. We’re close.”
“How close would you say is close?”
“I’m not comfortable sharing things about my private life.”
“Uh, how do I put this, I have been given a job by her mums to basically find out more about you.”
“You know her moms?”
“Well team mums. I’m like the big sister, so I guess I’m trying to give you the ‘talk’ which is not going so well right now.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought you were a fan.”
“It’s all good. The whole team is just very protective of Y/N. We’ve known her since she was seventeen and filled in familial roles for her.”
The two were chatting it up, Leah getting to know the actress and paying attention to the match going on. Disappointment ran through both Leah and Jenna when the opposition scored in the twenty-fifth minute.
After that, everything’s been going back and forth, not much else happening. The Arsenal fans were losing hope once the ninetieth minute came. However, on the ninety-second minute, you stole the ball from your opponent, dribbling around her. Everyone was on the edge of their seat. You kicked the ball through their legs and shot a banger right passed the keeper’s gloves, equalizing the match.
You ran towards where Jenna was seated, seeing Leah next to her, but not thinking much of it, and sent a kiss her way, making her blush. Leah pretends to grab it and put it into her pocket making you laugh as you celebrate with the team.
Just two minutes after that, you sent a pass to Alessia, who makes it into the back of the net, giving you the lead. You run up to her and jump into her arms, screaming. The final whistle blows not long after, sending the fans cheering.
Leah as Jenna to follow her as she was going to the pitch, wanting to celebrate with her teammates. You, on the other hand, went to where Jenna was seated, not seeing her anymore, when hands cover your eyes.
“I can’t see!”
“You’re so cute.” You recognize the voice making your turn to face her.
“Jenna! I thought you left!” You wrap your arms around her waist, hers around your neck, standing up straight, her legs lifting off the ground because of your much taller form.
“I told you I wouldn���t.” You let her go, but keep your hands on her waist.
“Babes, you’re needed for an interview.” You tune to your right to see Lia and Caitlin.
“Ugh.” You throw your head back, not wanting to do an interview.
“Off you go. Don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”
“Wait for me again?” You ask Jenna, getting a nod in response.
Once you leave, Caitlin and Lia step closer to Jenna.
“Hi, I’m Lia, this is Caitlin. What are your intentions with Y/N?”
“Well, when she’s done, I intend to take her to this restaurant she’s been wanting to try, but not without me, so I’ve reserved a seat for us there. And for the future, the same thing I’ve been doing which is to be patient and love her all the same, even more.”
“Woah, you’re good.” Caitlin didn’t expect that response.
“Yeah, I’ve tried to give her the talk, very likable person she is.”
“Hey, guys! What are we talking about?” You join back with them after your interview.
“Your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? I-uh-d-don’t have a-a—”
“They figured it out.” Jenna interrupts your stuttered response.
“Fine. I have a girlfriend. It’s so cool right!” You give everyone your famous bright smile.
Caitlin and Lia wrap an arm each around you, walking towards the tunnel.
“We still have to give you the talk thought.”
“What? No, please don’t!”
561 notes · View notes
diana-rose-25 · 6 months
Text
— Let's Dance
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PART 1
STYLE INSPIRATION
pairing/s: BEBE! Bada Lee x Jam Republic! Reader x Wolf'Lo! Chocol
warnings: None so far, an unrealistic description of being an exchange foreign student, might confuse some words in ballet (as most of them are only through research and not based on experience).
description: A professional ballet dancer in Street Woman Fighter Season 2? (Y/N) Bae, a 23-year-old ballerina and dance prodigy enters the fighting arena alongside the infamously known crew, Jam Republic. Making the team's aura and presence far more intimidating despite being clad in soft pink and white clothing, adorned with astonished faces and friendly smiles. As the young woman entered the arena with curious eyes and small smile, the other teams couldn't help but awe at her beauty and elegant aura, unknowingly capturing the eyes of two charismatic dancers.
status: unedited
word count: 4.5k
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"They're the last one to enter."
"This crew is intimidating."
These are just some of the comments circulating around the arena as they waited for the last and final crew to come out.
"It's amazing that JAM REPUBLIC is here," Akanen, Tsubakill's leader, stated in awe. Looking at the empty space where the last crew of the show have yet to enter the small arena.
A certain buzz was felt in the air as the other contestants waited for the anticipated arrival of JAM REPUBLIC. More notably, they were excited to meet the celebrity of all dancers, Kirsten Dodgen.
"We'll see Kirsten in person," Biggy stated admiringly.
Dancers expressed their love and admiration for the pink crew's leader and her arrival. One member from Deep N' Dap even stated that she cried when Kirsten cancelled on her classes due to visa issues after she signed up for all four of her classes. Her leader, Mina Myoung, promptly scolded her. Stating firmly that "this is a serious competition." Despite this, two of her members joked around, lifting up the atmosphere that turned heavy just before.
The longer the dancers wait, the more nervous and excited they get to finally meet the members of the crew.
"Wah, Kirsten is here," Yeni, a member of Wolf'Lo stated. The said woman bounced a little on her seat, the adrenaline rush pumping into very veins so fast she could barely contain it.
"Hey," she perked up, turning to Baby Sleek as she remembered something important.
"Hey Baby Sleek, is it true that (Y/N) was once your student?" Her question caused all the members to look at their oldest curiously and for confirmation.
A fond smile crossed Baby Sleek's face as she shrugged her shoulder. "Yeah," she confirms making her members awe and shout in disbelief as she rarely takes in students. "She was for a short while. (Y/N) trained under me for more or less than three years." The other crew turned to Wolf'Lo when they heard the commotion, curious to know what made them react in such a way.
"Wow, what was she like?" Haechi questioned. "Is she really that pretty in real life?"
Baby Sleek nodded, "when I first met her, I was so shocked at how pretty that kid is. I thought she was an idol. In my mind I was like, what the hell? How can this kid be so pretty at her age?" The members laughed at the whiny tone of her voice.
"But putting her looks aside, (Y/N) really is a monster at dance. A natural. At first, I was hesitant at her skills since she is more focused on the ballet genre, but after a few lessons, the girl was a beast. As if she was dancing hip-hop since she could walk! Of course, there were times where she would struggle with something, but her dedication and hard work pushed her through it all. It was really admirable."
The other members were floored at the high regards and compliments Baby Sleek showered you in. Suddenly feeling much more intimidated by the crew that isn't even present yet. Yeni, Haechi, and Halo nodded for the respect they felt for the Jam Republic member while Chocol and Mini sat rigidly in their seat.
"Yah, I'm starting to regret picking her as my No Respect Dancer," Mini laughed nervously before faking a cry and shoving her hands to cover her face. "Why didn't you say that before we pick the weakest dancers?!" She whined.
"They're not even here yet calm down," Chocol said, patting Mini on the shoulder in a mock comfort. "Have confidence, we can probably give her a good fight and win at the end of the day."
Halo and Baby Sleek giggle at the antics of their members and nodded encouragingly.
"Aya, don't mind. The both of you probably have more freestyle and dance battle experience than her. Don't doubt your capabilities now," Halo, their leader, commented while patting their heads.
"Right. Be confident, but keep your guard up. We saw her list of accomplishments before, so let's be prepared." Baby Sleek said seriously, shaking her hands a little to expel the nerves of the upcoming competition as her mind slowly shifts into battle mode.
〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜
Meanwhile, the pink crew of Jam Republic waited patiently for their cue to enter the arena in their given room.
(Y/N) tapped her hands against her thighs repeatedly. "I'm so excited and nervous at the same time."
Her members giggled at her but also felt the same energy as her. Ling, who sat next to her on her right, held her right hand to squeeze it gently for a few times.
"Me too. But don't worry, we got this." (Y/N) smiled at her as she intertwined their fingers together and squeezed her hand back.
"You'll be fine girl, we got your back." Latrice said, smilingly comfortingly at her as she sat next to Emma who gave you a nod and a finger heart to which you giggled.
Audrey, who sat next to her, leaned her head against her shoulder and looped her arm around her. "Yeah, calm down and let's just have fun! There's nothing to worry about." (Y/N) smiled fondly at the youngest member of the group, patting her knee in gratitude.
"I mean come on," Kirsten said, clapping her hands out of excitement and to hype her fellow members up, "this is us we're talking about!"
"Okay, okay, okay!" (Y/N) shouted, now pumped and excited, "Let's do this!" The girls laughed at her sudden mood change and hyped each other up even more. Even though some of them just met a couple of days ago, they were now starting to form a bond with each other. She smiled at the sight before her, feeling the warmth that bloomed in her chest, leaning back on the couch to compose herself.
The moment (Y/N) closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the TV screen came to life, signaling to their crew that it was time to enter the arena. The Jam Republic girls simultaneously yelled in surprise and excitement. Feeling gittery, Kirsten stood up and the rest of the girls followed her lead.
"Okay guys, are we ready?" She asked.
The members giggled a positive response albeit the nervous, quiet laughter that accompanied it as they form a circle.
"Shall we do this?" Kristen asked, placing a hand in front and the members followed one-by-one. "Entrance is going to be fire, three, two, one, wee!"
"Wee!" They followed along, laughing and giggling as they exited their room and walked towards the arena.
"Let's dance!"
The group walked down the narrow hallway of the building. Audrey clinging to (Y/N)'s arm and squeezing her hand gently with a bright smile on her face. She couldn't help but find the youngest so adorable! The dimples on her cheeks made (Y/N) want to pinch her cheeks really hard.
She then gestured to Emma who was falling behind a little, signaling her to walk beside them. Once she fell on step with (Y/N) and Audrey, the former girl wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Which was quite easy as the ballet dancer was noticeably the tallest amongst them (in her crew at least). The girls stated their excitement as they walked, feeling the nerves and adrenaline creep in.
Kirsten walked in front of them, leading the crew around the place until she momentarily stopped at the entrance.
"Ooooohhhh!" she cooed, placing both hands on the sides of the opening as she marveled at the sight before her.
"Holy damn!" Ling exclaimed once she saw how huge the room is. As they walked, they couldn't help but look around in amazement, eyes sparkling and hearts beating.
"Wow! This is so exciting!" Latrice and Audrey commented. (Y/N) giggled at them, enjoying their reactions that made her feel less conscious and nervous.
She'll be seeing her old teacher again, and she can't wait for it. After all these years, (Y/N) wanted to prove to Baby Sleek that all her training had not been in vain.
As soon as the other teams heard them, almost all of them perked up in their seat and looked up towards the stairs where they'll enter shortly.
"Oh, they're coming," Yoonji, a member of Mannequeen said in an excited tone.
"Wah, we'll be seeing them soon omg," Yeni clapped her hands lightly. Looking at the stairs in anticipation for the awaited group.
"You'll see your protegee soon Baby Sleek after all these years," Halo nudged her, "how are you feeling?"
"I think I might cry once I see her," Baby Sleek's answer made the members giggle fondly at her before cooing at the sight of her face. She looks like a mother waiting for her daughter to come home after all these years.
It wasn't long before the figure of Kirsten made her way down the stairs followed closely by the other members. The rest of the crew gasped in shock as soon as they saw her.
"Welcome to Korea!" A girl stated as the girls descended slowly down the stairs.
While descending, (Y/N) holds onto the railing of the stairs to look around the room to find her former mentor, taking advantage of the height to seek her out. She was so focused on finding her that she failed to see the looks of shock and awestruck faces of the other teams as soon as she turned around. Her eyes met Baby Sleek's, a bright grin soon adorned her face once they made eye contact and an excited giggle escaped her lips.
Unbeknownst to her, a certain dancer on the same team as her former mentor was blown away the moment she set eyes on you.
"Wow..." She whispered breathlessly, keeping her eyes on you.
Once the girls adorned in pink, white, and black clothing landed on the bottom of the stairs, they were once again looking around in astonishment and bowing to the people around while the others made comments about them.
"Wah, look at Kirsten's figure. It reminds me of Gabee."
"Their aura is so intimidating."
"Omo, Audrey is really pretty."
"She looks like a doll."
The team closest to them, BEBE, stared at Audrey in awe.
"Why is she so pretty?" Bada commented in awe, leaning back slightly in her seat while Tatter looked at her in wonder. "She looks like Anne Hathaway." She commented.
"I can't see (Y/N)," Lusher whined. The girl had her back facing the blue team making them unable to see her face. "I didn't see her clearly just now."
"Oh my god is that (Y/N)?!" The mentioned girl and her team almost jumped in shock at the loud voice that called out to her. They turn around to find a girl standing with a shock expression complete with a hand to her mouth as she stares at the girl she yelled for. Jam Republic laughed loudly and clapped their hands.
(Y/N) giggled and covered the bottom half of her flushed face. "Hello, nice to meet you." She said in fluent Korean and bowed down to the girl that was still standing.
Harimu, a member of 1 Million and her team yelled in surprise yet again, causing another laughter to roar out from Jam Republic.
"How can someone be that beautiful?!" Harimu yelled aloud, causing laughter to erupt from the room as she whined and stomped her foot to the ground in a faux tantrum manner.
Feeling even more flustered (Y/N) turned to hide her blushing face, fanning it down to compose herself but accidentally made eye contact with one of the hottest and trendiest choreographers today, Bada Lee.
So pretty, (Y/N) thought.
She regained her composure and grinned at the girl who was now staring at her with wide eyes and an agape mouth.
"Hello, nice to meet you all," she greeted the team, forcing herself to look away from Bada's eyes to bow down at every member of BEBE.
"Omo!" Lusher yelled, grabbing onto Kyma's hand, who was sitting beside her in shock. "Oh my god!" The rest of the team could only stare in shock at the woman still smiling, all of them shared similar looks of shock and admiration.
(Y/N) gave them one last smile and a bow before returning to her team, choosing to stand behind along with Audrey.
"Did you see her?"
"Oh my god her visuals are out of this world."
"My god, have you seen her height? She could be a VS model."
"Or those cliché movies about princesses."
"Bada-unnie," Tatter called out to her, giggling once she saw the still awestruck look on Bada's face, her gaze still trained and focused on (Y/N). "Our leader is still in a starstruck trance everyone."
"Looks like someone has a crush~," Minah teased, poking the shoulder of her leader with her pointer finger.
Bada snapped her gaze away once she heard the teasing tones of her team members and light shoves on her shoulder. She groaned and hid her flushed face away.
"Shut up!" Bada's voice came out muffled but the others still heard it loud and clear.
"Wah, she's a young woman now," Halo looked at Baby Sleek who commented in a soft voice. Despite the fond smile that painted her face, tears began to well up in her eyes. The leader chuckled softly and wrapped her arm around her for a side hug, rubbing her hand up and down her shoulder.
Chocol stared.
Even though (Y/N)'s back was facing them, she stared. Taking note of her poise, the way she stands and holds herself. Shoulders back and standing tall, petite that of a standard ballerina but somehow oozes that aura of regal elegance. Wow, Chocol thought. She's like some sort of royalty.
The large screen above suddenly made a noise, effectively catching the attention of Jam Republic and everyone else.
"Oooh," (Y/N) said, holding onto Audrey's hand when the younger one sought hers out. "Evaluation time."
Jam Repuiblic stood in front of it, anxiously awaiting the thougts, opinions, and evaluation of them by other crews with a smile on their face. Although (Y/N) nervous, she had a feeling that most of these aren't going to be friendly since this is a competition show. They need something for drama after all.
"The strong point of Jam Republic is the fact that they've been on the great stage. We can't ignore this."
(Y/N) smiled at the sweet comment, though, that didn't last long.
"All the members of Jam Republic think that they're number 1. Everyone wants to be the main dancer. Can they really be united?" Ah, there it is.
(Y/N) subtely side-eyed Akanen who commented on the video. She has respect for the dancer and leader of Tsubakill, admires her even, but she can't help but smirk towards her. She understands her point, but it still wasn't enough to hide that but of irritation towards her comment. Akanen, who was looking at Jam Republic when her comment was shown, gulped when she made eye-contact with (Y/N) and swiftly looked away.
"Wah, she didn't like that comment." Momo commented when she saw the three second interaction of the dancers.
"I know, I'm suddenly scared," Tsubakill giggled quietly at Akanen.
The next few comments of the evaluation targeted Kirsten and her affiliation with the world renowned crew, The Royal Family. (Y/N) titled her head in confusion when a dancer tried to insult Kirsten by looking for Paris Goebel instead of her.
"They do know you're one of the key members for a reason right?" She nudged at her leader, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Kirsten just nodded and smiled in response with her eye glued to the screen in front.
"A fake Royal Family?" (Y/N) couldn't help but gasped humourly at the harsh comment.
If that wasn't enough, the next comments are targeting Audrey. (Y/N) felt the younger girl squeeze her hand; she turned to look at her face to find the girl trying to keep a small smile despite the harsh criticisms thrown her way.
"She looks like an amateur dancer. The skills of a baby dancer."
"Audrey is a pretty doll. As she's a pretty doll, standing and doing nothing would be enough."
"Oh my gosh," the taller girl clicked her tongue in annoyance towards the comments. Are they really doubting her skills because she's young and pretty? "That's a shallow critic."
Jam Republic giggled in shock when those words came out of her mouth. The other teams, on the other hand, looked at her face nervously. The happy and excited face of the tallest Jam Republic member, now, still has a small smile; but eyes devoid of any emotion.
"She looks like she's seething with rage right now." Bada commented, leaning forward with clasped hands, resting her elbows on her knees whilst keeping her gaze on the girl in pink.
"She's like an older sister who wants to fight the bully of her younger sister," Tatter said, the rest of the crew agreed with her after taking a swift glance before looking back at the screen.
"(Y/N) is another pretty face," ah, there goes the comments about her. The mentioned girl straightened her back and inhaled deeply. Mentally preparing herself to receive the harsh comments thrown at her.
"(Y/N) is a professional ballerina who had performed on broadways before and competed in ballet genre on competitions. I don't think some people realize how hard it is to compete in ballet and make it look so easy. I really have so much respect for her." The said girl couldn't help but bow in gratitude at the praise she received from a member of Mannequeen, Cera.
"Thank you so much," she whispered. Audrey grinned brightly at her and nudged her teasingly.
"(Y/N) is a ballerina, right? And a pretty one at that. She could stand on pointe all day and stand on a music box, let it spin her around, and people would appreciate her dancing."
"I honestly don't think she could perform well in any other type of genre since her main focus is on ballet."
"Yeah, like a one trick pony."
The gasps could be heard echoing throughout the room after the comment. (Y/N)'s and her team members' jaw dropped in shock, "ouch, that hurts."
The former girl clutched her chest in exaggeration and pretended to lose her balance. Audrey held on to her and laughed at her dramatic antics.
The room suddenly erupted in shock when the screen showed how many No Respct stickers each Jam Reublic member will receive. Above showed their names in huge, bold, and bright fonts their name and the results:
Kristen - 2
Latrice - 0
Ling - 1
Emma - 1
(Y/N) - 4
Audrey - 6
An overwhelming amount of people chose Audrey as their No Respect Dancer. The youngest member of Jam Republic cheered and held her thumbs up in the air, whilst (Y/N) just clapped slowly with a smile, still looking at the results.
4 No Respect Dancer stickers might not be much compared to Audrey. However, the message was still loud and clear that there are people who are doubting her as a dancer.
"Okay, okay," she said, turning to Audrey as she held up a hand, "let's show them what we've got." The two girls high-fived each other with matching grins.
As they made their way to their designated seats. (Y/N) made eye contact with Baby Sleek. She grinned towards her and gave a small wave, bowing down in greeting towards Wolf'Lo who sat beside them.
(Y/N) sat at the top of the seat with her back straight, a trait she acquired after it was conditioned in her body. She was still quite frustrated at the one trick comment she received. She clicked her tongue in frustration and puffed her cheeks, inhaling and exhaling deeply through her nose.
"You okay?" Kirsten asked and patted her thigh.
"Yeah," she nodded - albeit partly lying. "Don't worry, Audrey and I will make sure they'll eat their words after they see us dance."
Audrey shot her finger guns with a wink, "that's right mama!"
She laughed at her adorableness and pinched her cheeks. Inhaling deeply one last time, she forced herself to relax and remember that it's all part of the show. (Y/N) gathered her hair all together in her hands and placed them behind her back when she heard a sound of awe.
Startled, the girl turned her head to the side. Staring at her was a woman with bright red hair that it almost looks orange. She thought it suited her very well and loves the boyish look the other woman adorned.
Chocol flushed furiously when her eyes suddenly met (Y/N)'s. One moment, she was admiring her side profile, then the next, she's looking into her eyes. She gasped as she placed a hand on her mouth and bowed deeply.
"Nice to meet you! I didn't mean to stare, I'm sorry!"
(Y/N) giggled and bowed to her as well, waving her hand dismissively at the poor woman whose head was still bowing down. "Nice to meet you too! And don't worry, it's fine, thank you!" She grinned with a blush on her face.
Haechi laughed at her flustered team member, garnering second-hand embarrassment from her. Both of their teams turned their attention to the commotion behind them and laughed at the flustered state their two members are in.
"Look at Chocol's face! It's almost the same color as a tomato," Buckey commented as she watched their interaction. Mannequeen giggled in amusement.
Wolf'Lo seemed intimidating when they first arrived. Now, one of their members are left in a flustered mess against a member of Jam Republic.
"I guess even Chocol couldn't resist (Y/N)'s charm." Redlic commented.
Once the commotion died down (there's still a red hue across Chocol's face), the room cheered once again once the judges were introduced: Shin Monika, Son Hyun-woo (Shownu), and the guest judge; Mike Song.
After the introduction, all the crews were instructed to return to their hideout rooms to change and prepare for their first mission: No Respect Battle.
Jam Republic debriefed about their evaluation after they've changed as they waited for their cue to return back to the arena. The members lounged comfortably at the couch while Audrey was left standing to voice out her frustrations.
"It's like, you can't even see my face! It's the shoulders! They're focusing on my shoulders!" She laughed in frustration.
"I know! They see one video of you doing markings, and suddenly, they deemed you as the worst dancer!" (Y/N) replied, leaning against Ling as she hugs the plush bunny tightly.
There's a visible frown etched upon Audrey's face. She understands her frustrations and sadness that the youngest might be feeling right now. So, she stands up and makes her way towards her. (Y/N) placed her hands on her shoulders as she bends her knees to be on Audrey's eye level.
"What they said about you isn't a reflection of all the hard work and dedication you've put into your craft. Don't let their comments get into your head too much. They don't know what you bring into the table."
(Y/N) tilted her chin up with her finger when Audrey smiled at her. "Chin up, darling. Show them what you've got. "
Back in the arena, the tension in the air thickened. Dancers stretched and prepared for the upcoming battle; the first bettle and mission of the season. Everyone wants the win for themselves; everyone wants to prove themselves and the stregths of their team.
Jam Republic conversed to themselves as they stretched. (Y/N) was in middle spilts as she conversed with Emma and Latrice.
"Who do you want to battle (Y/N)," Emma asked as she stretches her shoulders.
"Oh, definitely Cera of Mannequeen." She answered instantly before standing up. "We have the most similar style out of everyone, and I love her power and charisma when she battles. She's so cool."
(Y/N) was about to add onto her comment when she saw BEBE enter the arena, more specifically, their leader. Bada came into her view dressed in oversized clothing and a cap in her head, almost covering her eyes. Her outfit and confidence boosted her charisma, which left (Y/N) speechless.
Bada took a sip of her drink before scanning around the room. Initially, she did this to scout out her competition when she met the wide eyes of a certain member of the pink team.
(Y/N) chocked in her saliva in shock when their eyes met. She immediately turned her head and buried her face in her hands.
"What's happening to you?" Latrice laughed at the girl, taking note of her red ears. She looks at the direction the latter girl was looking at and grinned teasingly. She patted Emma's hand to direct her attention to the tall woman who was staring at their member.
Bada was still staring at (Y/N) with a smirk on her face. She chuckled lowly when she saw how the girl became flustered under her gaze.
"Cute," she commented before taking a seat. Mentally forming a plan to make herself acquainted with the girl after the camera's stop rolling for the day.
"What did you say?" Tatter asked when her leader muttered something inaudible.
"Nothing. Dont worry about it." Bada patted the blonde's head. Tatter was confused at the giddy mood her leader was in but ultimately dropped it for the time being.
Back with Jam Republic, Latrice and Emma share an amused look on their faces as they watch (Y/N) fan her face.
"What?" The girl asked, knowing full well what it is about.
"Nothing," they replied simultaneously. She narrowed her eyes at them and pouted her lips.
"Stop teasing her guys," Kirsten commented. "Let her focus on her stretching. Otherwise, she might focus all her attention on a certain blue team member." The rest of the team burst out laughing. (Y/N) flushed even more as she glared at Kirsten. The leader looked back at her with an innocent smile and fluttering eyes in faux innocence in response.
"Whatever," she muttered before standing tall to prepare herself to position herself into an arabesque.
"Still can't get over how flexible you are," Emma commented. Watching her effortlessly pull the move.
(Y/N) hummed in response before inhaling, feeling the deep stretch on her core, back, and legs. She always loved the feeling of deep stretches. It's like letting your breathe after a long day. She held the pose for as long as she could before she exhaled and released her leg.
"Woah, she's so flexible," Redy stated as she watched the girl pull the move. Harimu and her had been observing her for quite a while now. Lia, their leader, watched them in amusement before glancing at who they're looking at.
"Hey, stop that and focus on the mission," she scolded them.
It wasn't long before Kang Daniel, the host of the season, welcomed them back and introduced the rules of the mission. (Y/N) bounced her feet in anticipation and wiggled her shoulders.
Mind and body ready for the fight that's about to begin.
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note: italized names can't be tagged. I'm sorry 😭😭😭
next part>>>
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Your back! Hi! :D Ok, the guys adore and are protective of their female human best friend (fem reader). She shares a strong bond with them, and they with her. So, if she ever gets injured or sick, the guys are protective for a while. She is ready to help them again (as much as she can with being a human and all) but what she doesn't realize is that this time it's close to their spring season, making them very protective, territorial, and aggressive to outsiders. How would this play out as they are close to their primal time of the year, and she wants to go with them as they're about to leave on patrol, but they won't let her? Fluffy ending. 🥺(maybe some turtle noises and behaviors too)
Protective TMNT headcanons—reader wants to come on patrol
Bayverse, 2003, or 2012 if it suits ya. 🤷‍♀️. SFW! Mentions of "spring season" for the boys but nothing s*xual. hope u like it @pokemew119 !
Leonardo:
• Like Leonardo, we'll be straight to the point with this one—he's not going to want you going out with them. Normally, he doesn't want you to. Now he really doesn't want you to
• Due to their biology, springtime can be pretty dreadful for the bunch (for Splinter, too, he's the one having to manage them). Aggression, sensitivity, protectiveness, fussing over their rooms, etc. So you asking Leo to go out on their nightly patrol with them was a "this really isn't a good time" moment for him
• "The Lair is warm and safe, why would you want to come out here, anyways? Leave the fighting to me. That's what I'm here for, that's my job."
• Can be a little bit of an ass about it ngl, because he just wants to know you're home with someone he actually trusts to protect you, their father
• You heard Leo bark your name as you started up the ladder out of the sewers. Blue eyes giving you a suspicious look. You were trying to sneak topside so you'd be out there before he was able to protest. "No, no, go ask Master Splinter to show you some stuff if you want something to do so badly."
• Pats you along back to the Lair, watching to make sure you actually go back inside
• If you DO end up out there with them, he's going to be stressing a little more than usual about the setup because it throws him off having someone he feels he needs to constantly look out for, unlike his brothers who are more or less self-sufficient. But you bet you're always going to be his first priority, no hesitation
Michelangelo:
• For once, the heightened senses of springtime had Mikey thinking slightly more rationally than usual
• "Babycakes, you sure you want to come? It's ugly out there, smells bad, full of dudes always asking for a beat-down, maybe you should stay." Ruffles your hair for reassurance. "We can play games when I get back!"
• Secretly tries to dissuade you from even wanting to go out with them in the first place with promises of fun back at home
• If you do go anyways, he's taking every chance to show off his nunchaku skills
• Gets annoyed at his siblings for taking your attention away from him (oop there's the possessiveness)
• Very touchy, constantly hanging off of you or trying to play-fight, sit close to you on the sofa, scoot his chair towards you at dinner, etc.
• You ask if you can go with them on their way out and you catch Mikey
• He smiles big and sheepishly shakes his head, "Sorry, y/n, not tonight! You're kickin' back in my beanbag tonight and hanging out, not running around New York." End of conversation. You try to say something, he interrupts you, thumping your shoulder. "I'll text you! See ya, angel!"
• More passive about his protectiveness and isn't so outright about it like Leo, but on the inside, still doesn't fully understand why he feels that way (even though Donnie has explained over and over again)
Donatello:
• "You want to come out with us? Not gonna work, y/n, this is real stuff," he said amicably, raising his brow ridges. "There's been a three-point-four percent increase in crime rate just around the next four blocks, and that's with us kicking tail every other night. Statistically, you're liable to become a target and..."
• Donnie gets real irritable in spring and tends to avoid his brothers, argues with Leo about about their rooming situation bc he wants to be alone (except for with you)
• Sets up an entire cozy corner in his lab for you to chill in while he's gone and hopes you'll use it, even though he'd definitely rather be home and not topside at this time
• When you ask him to tag along on their patrol, he starts spouting off all the reasons you shouldn't and ultimately wins that debate
• Compromises by letting you man his tracking/observation station and communicating with them on their missions from the sewers
• He actually loves knowing you're on tap while he's out in the city and he can just radio in whenever he feels like it
• "See, isn't being our control center way better?"
Raphael:
• Raph already has a huge attitude problem, make that tenfold in spring.
• Gets waaaaay too overprotective at times, verges on bothersome levels of spazzing over what you do and where you go
• "You wanna go on patrol? With us? Just, out in New York City? With the Foot? Ahah, ain't happening, y/n. 'You said 'maybe' last time?' Well, I'm sayin' no, this time. You'll be bored?" He shrugs. "Watch TV or something. But you're not comin'."
• If you do somehow manage to go (highly unlikely), he's going to be grumpy and complain the whole time because he's secretly just worried and his hormones are out of whack
• Gets overly aggressive defending you from anything and probably stirs up more conflict over it tbh
• "It ended up fine that time, but don't do that again, ya hear?" He doesn't want to seem like he cares too much, so he flicks your head. (That man is head over heels for you)
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enluv · 6 months
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(almost) six missed chances.
pairing: park jongseong x mentioned fem!reader
wc: 796
synopsis: in which jay can count all the missed chances he’s had with you on one hand, until he can’t.
genre: volleyball player!jay, pure fluff, light teasing (menace heeseung), and a lovesick jay!!
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one evening he watches as you sit two tables infront of from him, chatting excitedly with your friend about your weekend plans. jay thinks he’d like to go out with you for the weekend too, only if you’d let him, but the professor starts class before he can think to ask.
“maybe if you asked instead of staring at her all class, she’d agree to go out with you.” his friend playfully chastises as he watches jay’s eyes never leave your form.
“shut up.” he mumbles back, quickly averting his gaze away onto his book.
two small waves are sent his way, and he feels like he’s seeing things. did he really see that right? had you seriously waved at him? him? as he himself? jay park? you knew he existed? his smile beams.
“dude why didn’t you wave back? that was so awkward! I had to do it for you! are you seriously that in love that you can’t even fathom waving back to her?” heeseung scoffs, pulling at his friends arm to guide him through the sea of students getting out of class.
it’s in that moment jay realizes, he didn’t wave back.
three times he’s seen you here now, it could be a coincidence but heeseung swears you’ve never come in before. he taunts that you’ve only started coming since jay started, and his heart races at the thought.
“you’re like a lovesick puppy, an idiot really!” heeseung scolds watching his friend shamelessly admire you from afar.
“she looks really pretty today, brown is pretty on her.” he mumbles mostly to himself, moving around useless items on the counter.
“you’re sick!” heeseung yells as he swats jay away to finish taking orders.
four boys sit at a table complaining about their classes, volleyball season is among them and their schedules are tight, fitting in time with one another outside of practice is hard, lunches are sacred. a jab to his side brings him out of his endless thoughts.
“are you tired or something? you haven’t said a word to us since we sat down,” asks one of his friends.
“maybe that spike to the head really got him, do you need to see the team medic or something?” dotes another.
“he isn’t hurt idiots, he’s just in love. he does this in class too, stares at the wall imagining it’s his girlfriend,” heeseung points out, rolling his eyes at jay’s behavior, he’d witnessed it so many times before.
“she’s not my girlfriend!”
“but you want her to be!”
“please ask her out soon, I’m tired of you drooling over her in class, seriously dude all you can see is the back of her head, what’s so pretty about that?”
“everything about her is pretty…” he trails off, once again daydreaming.
five whistles blow to signal the stop of practice, jay huffs in annoyance. right before the whistle he was sure he would land his serve. the same one he’d been working to perfect since the season started.
“i have an announcement boys, you’ve whined to me so much about getting ya’ a team manager so I finally did it! don’t say I never do anything for you all cause I did this so don’t ask for nothin’ else!” the boys look between one another, some in confusion, others in excitement.
he’s sure his eyes are playing tricks on him, cheeks flushed bright red from practice and now as he watches you walk in, this has to be a some kind of sweet sick mirage.
“this is your new team manager brats, be nice to her or I’ll keep you on the sidelines, I mean it! if she quits because yer messin’ with her I’ll spike a ball to yer head,” his playful threat falls flat on the ears of the team, they all stare in awe at their newest team manager.
“looks like you might have some competitionnnnn,” heeseung sings as he walks past jay, shaking his head at his friend who is still staring in disbelief.
“fuck no.”
six boys, one coach, and a number of others watch him as he strides across the gym, the confidence oozing from his stature quickly diminishing as he stops right in front of you.
“i think you’re really pretty, and smart, and so fucking funny, it’s been killing me ever since I first saw you, you’re all I think about, day and night! and I know you don’t know me but you could get to know me, if you go out with me on a date!” he’s stumbling the words out, no amount of practice sessions in his bathroom mirror had prepared him for this moment, it’s all too surreal.
“oh finally,” his eyes widen in confusion at your words, “i thought you’d never ask.”
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coco’s love note: firstly, thank you @malarign for reading it over for me hehe I love you bae!! 🤍 and secondly, this is my first post in a while and on top of that I’m currently stuck with a cold so please show it some love if you enjoy it 🥺 feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3
enhypen taglist — @yeoforce @bloom-bloom-pow @nikis-mum @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spoooooooooooon @enhacolor @yoongimooni @blaqpinksthectic @gyuuss @eternallyhyucks @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @jjunry @jwonsgirl @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @bobariki @vatterie @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @w3bqrl @heefys @haechan-nahceah @queen-klarissa @odxrilove @s00buwu @j-wyoung @jiawji
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magicfootballstuff · 4 months
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Dirty Little Secret - part 6 (leila ouahabi x reader)
Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.
Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader
Part 6/?
Read other parts here.
———
You’re a European Champion.
You don’t really know what to do with that information.
To be honest, after the first twenty four hours that pass in a hungover blur, you end up on a bit of a downer. You should be delighted, riding the high of being the first England team to win a major trophy in fifty-six years, but after two glorious months in camp with a group of girls you’re now bonded with for life, returning to your hometown for a couple of weeks before pre-season is a dose of reality that’s just a little bit too big to swallow.
You’re happy to see your family, of course. You’ve spent most of the summer away from them with only limited visits while you were in camp. But after the best summer of your life with a football at your feet, it takes all of about three days for you to be itching to get back on the football pitch again.
A few days into your two weeks off, a few of the girls get together for what is part post-Euro reunion and part farewell dinner for Georgia, who departs for Munich the next day. It’s a mixed group - a few Lionesses and some of the girls from Manchester City - but it’s the familiar dark hair at the end of the table that catches your eye, deep in conversation with somebody else you don’t know.
You’re surprised to see Leila who, apart from having her own Euro hopes dashed by Georgia’s extra time winner, has no reason to know Georgia.
You take a seat next to Lauren, who notices you looking at the two girls at the far end of the table.
“Oh, that’s Laia and Leila,” she explains. “I invited them. They’re still settling into the team and there’s so many City girls here, I thought it would be nice for them to get to know people a bit better.”
Leila must feel your eyes on her because it’s at that exact moment that she looks up and her dark gaze meets yours. There’s no change to her expression, no giveaway to anybody else that you know each other except for the fact that her eyes linger on you for longer than they would if you were just strangers who happened to make eye contact, until she finally turns back to her conversation with Laia.
You feel a rush of giddiness go straight to your head, blocking out all the sounds around you as you continue to look at Leila, admiring the sharp angles of her side profile. It almost feels like the Arnold Clark Cup all over again, having this secret that nobody else around you knows. You enjoyed your time in Barcelona with Leila and getting to be all coupley with her in front of her old teammates, but you’d forgotten how much of a turn-on the thrill of secrecy could be.
———
As the evening goes on, you don’t forget about Leila - how could you, when she is right there and looks so damn good - but you get a little distracted by everything else. There are enough Lionesses present that means you spend a lot of time talking about the Euros, reminiscing over the best summer of your life, then because tonight is about Georgia leaving, you end up talking about old times at City. It’s been years since you played for them, a scrawny teenager playing alongside Keira and Georgia, all three of you with big dreams and no idea that you would one day become European Champions together. But even as you reminisce, there’s always a part of you that’s aware of Leila’s presence at the other end of the table and you can’t help but glancing at her throughout the night.
“All us OG City girls are gradually leaving the nest,” Georgia says, smiling fondly at you and Keira. “I wonder who’ll be next.”
You notice that Keira is suspiciously quiet and has suddenly taken a deep interest in the ice cubes at the bottom of her empty glass. With the performances she’s just put on at the Euros, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got interest from other clubs too.
“City’s got some new blood now though,” you say, your eyes wandering to Leila once more. “Not that it’ll matter, Arsenal will still beat City this season.”
Predictably in a room full of mostly City players, your comment causes outrage. Arsenal and City are due to play each other soon for the first fixture of the new season and you always enjoy the rivalry against your old club. And with Leila on the other team, you’ve got extra incentive to go out there and put on a show this time.
You let them banter with you for a moment. Even Georgia, technically no longer a City player, takes great joy in slandering Arsenal. 
When the conversation finally moves on, your eyes wander back to Leila, and you tune out the voices around you as you stare, mentally trying to figure out if there’s a way you can subtly change seats to be closer to her without alerting the entire group to your motives.
There isn’t, and Leila chooses that exact moment to meet your gaze while her lips are still wrapped around the straw in her drink. She lets the straw slip out of her mouth but you still get a glimpse of the pink tip of her tongue and there’s no way in hell you can pay attention to whatever conversation is going on around you now.
You excuse yourself to the bathroom, anything to give yourself a chance to get away and recompose yourself, and thankfully they’re all too busy laughing at something Georgia is saying to pay any attention to the flush of your cheeks, nor the way that Leila’s gaze follows you as you go.
You hear somebody else enter the bathroom as you flush the toilet and when you exit the cubicle Leila is standing at the sinks checking her appearance in the mirror. Her dark eyes find yours in the reflection, and her mouth twitches in a smirk of recognition.
“Hi,” she says.
You glance around the bathroom, checking that all three stalls are empty, before you approach the sink to wash your hands and reply, “Hi yourself. How are you finding Manchester?”
“I like it. It’s a nice city.”
“At least the weather’s been nice since you got here. Just wait until it rains every day.”
You walk over to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands and Leila turns around, leaning back against the sink to look at you.
“Everything is always about the weather to you English people,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Too hot, too cold.”
“What can I say - we like to complain.”
“Are you going to complain right now?” Leila asks.
The air in the bathroom suddenly feels a lot thicker, the way that Leila is watching you as you dispose of the balled up paper towel, coupled with the teasing lilt to her tone, reminding you of just how attracted you are to her.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Actually, there is one thing I want to complain about,” you say, taking a couple of steps closer to Leila.
“What‘s that?” Leila asks, her eyebrows crinkling together in a frown.
“I want to complain about the fact that we’re alone in this completely deserted bathroom and you haven’t kissed me yet.”
“You haven’t kissed me either,” Leila points out.
“Is that an invitation?” you challenge her.
Your words have the desired effect of provoking a reaction from Leila, because her eyes flash in defiance and she retaliates, “I want to complain about how annoying-”
You don’t give Leila the chance to finish her complaint, because you grab her by the lapels of her jacket and pull her in for a kiss. She lets out a surprised little grunt when your lips collide with hers, but melts into the kiss quickly, her hands finding your hips as her lips settle into a familiar movement against your own.
You only realise now that you’re here, kissing Leila in a secluded bathroom like your life depends on it, that it’s actually been months since you last did this. In all your focus for the Euros, the hard work and the euphoria, you’d sort of forgotten that you hadn’t actually kissed Leila since you bid your goodbyes to each other in the departure lounge of the Barcelona airport after your brief visit at the end of last season. Not even after your game against each other during the tournament did you kiss.
And with the way Leila kisses you, stealing the air from your mouth with such hunger, you vow never to go another three months without kissing her again.
“I’ve missed you,” you mumble against her mouth, when you have to draw back for breath, to save yourself from passing out from sheer lack of oxygen caused by Leila’s kiss. “I’ve missed this.”
Leila’s hand finds the back of your head and she uses it to pull you closer, not for another kiss, but to rest your head against her shoulder as she wraps her other arm around your back. You snake your own arms around her waist, burying your face into her neck and savouring the feeling of her arms around you, not wanting this moment to end.
“I’ve missed this too,” Leila murmurs, her fingers stroking through your hair.
She’s right, it’s this that you’ve been craving. Not the kissing or the sex, though you’ve spent more time thinking about that in the nearly three months since you last slept together than you’d care to admit, but everything else too. The intimacy of being held, of having somebody to share the little moments with, the ability to go from teasing each other about the weather to making out against a sink to cuddling like this, with each of those things feeling just as natural as the last.
And maybe, just maybe, all of that will be easier to facilitate than it was when you lived in different countries.
“Stay with me tonight?” Leila asks, feeling her voice rumble beneath your cheek as much as you hear the words.
You’d been planning on getting a taxi back to your parents’ house on the outskirts of Manchester, or maybe crashing with Lauren or Keira if it ends up being a late one tonight, but that was before you knew that you’d see Leila tonight. Now that this offer is on the table, there’s nowhere else you want to spend the night.
“Of course.”
———
Waking up the next morning, there are two things that you feel. The first is comfort, Leila’s warm body wrapped around your own with your hips nestled back against her own, feeling happy and well-rested after a night of good sleep in her arms.
The second is the desperate urge to pee.
You try to extract yourself from Leila’s embrace without disturbing her, but Leila only tightens her arms around you to stop you from leaving and mumbles words that you don’t understand in sleepy Spanish.
“Leila,” you murmur, trying to wriggle free. “Leila, I need to pee. Where’s your bathroom?”
Leila reluctantly lets you leave her arms and mutters in Spanish again, before she says in English, “Left.”
You slip out of bed and leave Leila’s bedroom, following her directions by finding the bathroom through the next door to the left.
When you’ve been to the toilet and freshened up a little with some cold water to your face and running your fingers through your mussed hair, you exit the bathroom and immediately stop in your tracks when you see somebody sitting at the dining table eating breakfast and drinking coffee. You think you recognise her as one of Leila’s new City teammates, though her name slips your mind, but you wonder if you really walked right past her without noticing her on your way to the bathroom.
“Hi,” she greets you, an amused smile gracing her lips. “I’m Deyna.”
You glance at Leila’s bedroom door, which stands slightly ajar as you left it, then introduce yourself to Deyna.
“Arsenal, right?” she asks.
“Yeah,” you nod. “And you’re at City with Leila?”
“Teammates. Roommates.” Deyna pauses, then adds, “Just regular mates.”
“Cool,” you say, unsure whether you’re supposed to continue to make smalltalk with Deyna out of politeness, or if it’s acceptable to make your excuses and return to Leila’s room.
Luckily you’re saved at that exact moment by Leila herself, who emerges from her bedroom with sleep-tousled hair to investigate what’s going on.
“Oh,” she says, when she sees Deyna. From the expression on her face, she’s as surprised to see Deyna as you are. She turns to you, then says, “This is Deyna.”
“She knows that already,” Deyna grins. “We were just getting to know each other.”
“Coffee?” Leila asks you, as she walks over to the kitchen units and grabs a couple of mugs out of a cupboard.
“Yes please,” you reply. At the table, Deyna’s attention is now on her phone as she eats, and you say to Leila, “You didn’t mention that you had a roommate.”
“Don’t worry, I’m a deep sleeper,” Deyna interjects, glancing up from the screen of her phone with a smirk gracing her lips.
Your cheeks burn red and Leila retaliates with what you can only assume is a string of Spanish expletives. 
Deyna apologises, mostly directing it at you, before she asks, “So how did you two meet?”
“Champions League,” Leila answers, busying herself over the coffee again.
“We played each other twice in the group stage last season,” you elaborate.
“I beat her twice,” Leila says, glancing across at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes.
“Leila got a yellow card for trying to break my legs.”
“I didn’t … it was an accident,” Leila insists. “It was passion.”
“Strange way to flirt, but okay,” Deyna teases Leila.
“That’s what I said!” you exclaim in agreement.
Leila wanders over with two steaming mugs of coffee, one of which she offers out to you, and she leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips as she mumbles, “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”
You thank her for the coffee, bringing it to your lips and taking the tiniest sip from the mug, letting out a satisfied hum.
The only other time Leila has made you coffee was when you went to visit her in Barcelona, but the coffee is perfect, like heaven touching your tongue.
“You remembered how I take my coffee?” you ask.
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Thank you, it’s perfect.”
The domesticity of it is nice, as if you’re existing in a bubble where only you and Leila matter.
Until Deyna interrupts your moment.
“Go and be cute in your room,” she tells Leila, dismissing you both with a wave and a roll of her eyes. “I’m trying to eat.”
Leila nudges you back towards her bedroom and you soon find yourself nestled against Leila’s side again, propped up against the headboard with steaming mugs of coffee cradled in your hands.
“You promised me a tour?” she says.
“Of Manchester?”
Leila nods eagerly.
“You’re gonna have to wait a bit longer,” you tell Leila apologetically. “I can’t hang out today.”
The disappointment that flashes across Leila’s face is almost enough to have you reaching for your phone to call your agent to cancel your plans for the day.
“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be going back to my old junior club today. Helping out with some training, taking photos with the kids, letting them see my medal. Inspiring the next generation and all that crap.”
“It’s not crap,” Leila assures you. “Well, maybe for me if it means we can’t hang out.”
“Didn’t know you were so clingy,” you tease her.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” Leila replies flirtatiously.
You smile across at her.
“And I can’t wait to find out.”
———
You return to London a couple of days later, regretfully without having seen Leila again since that morning at her flat, but you start to message each other more often. Not quite every day, but a few times a week, little things like talking about your days. It’s more familiar than it’s ever been before, with most of your conversations prior to the Euros being laced with flirtatious pictures and suggestive messages. But this is different - you talk about mundane things like training, or what you’re having for dinner, or the latest English slang words that Leila has learned from her new City teammates. 
But that doesn’t mean your relationship has lost any of its spark. It’s still flirty, especially because Arsenal’s first fixture of the new season is away at City. It reminds you a little bit of those first couple of encounters in the Champions League last season, bantering about the upcoming contest in a way you hope leads to sparks on and off the pitch.
And then the game gets cancelled. 
All that build-up, the jokes about yellow cards, the promises that you’d let Leila do whatever she wants to you if she let you score past her, falls away into nothing the moment that the game is called off.
You feel empty. And not just because football is your life and you’d been looking forward to the league starting up again, but because once the season starts you don’t know when you and Leila will both get time off at the same time. It might be months before you get to see each other again.
———
Two things happen when the season finally begins and September morphs into October.
The first is that you pick up a hamstring injury. It shouldn’t surprise you too much, given that you pretty much went straight from last season into the Euros, straight into pre-season. You’re in your prime as an athlete, but you’re not invincible. You work hard on your recovery, even if you’re a little bummed to be spending so much time in the gym and staying on the sidelines as the Champions League group stage begins.
The second thing that happens is that fifteen Spanish players, including Leila, step back from their national team in protest of their working conditions. You don’t know the details but you remember Leila alluding to some problems during the Euros, when she pointed out that talent alone doesn’t win Championships.
You don’t really know what you can do to support Leila, especially from London. The story blows up in the football media world and you imagine it must be particularly hard for Leila, being so far from Spain and away from most of the other girls involved, but you don’t know if there’s anything you can do or say to make it easier.
You eventually settle on messaging her a few hours after the story hits the headlines.
You Proud of you for standing up for the right thing! Always here if you want to talk about it or if you want a distraction instead?
Leila likes your message after a few hours but doesn’t reply.
The red heart that taunts you from the screen of your phone is something you’ll come to realise is probably the beginning of the end.
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love-takes-work · 1 month
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WHAT WAS THIS SHOW ABOUT?
One thing I really love about Steven Universe is that each of the four major characters kind of got a chance to be What The Show Was About. I would have LOVED spending more time with all of them and delving into who they were and who they became beyond what we got, but what we got was . . . actually pretty special.
STEVEN
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As the ACTUAL main character and the show's literal namesake, it's obvious he's the protagonist. Our man has been through a lot and I don't suppose anyone would say he never got his moment considering he was there for the whole show. But except for some pretty important identity stuff that depended on his choices in the last episode of the OG show, a LOT of Steven Universe is stuff that happened to and around Steven. There was so much history and so much baggage that a lot of the story was about how he fended it off, dealt with it, fought it, reasoned with it, and managed everyone's emotions in the process.
Steven is set apart from the others in extraordinary ways: being half human, being extremely young, being Rose Quartz's son, and having Diamond-level powers and a claim to the Pink Diamond throne.
We had to wait for Steven Universe Future before the show was entirely focused on him, his development, his trauma, and his healing.
Some episodes from the original show focused on Steven's mental health and growth as a person--most notably "Mindful Education"--but we just didn't get to linger very long with his development until the epilogue show because plot stuff was always happening, other people's feelings were taking center stage, and worlds needed saving. I'm really glad we got Steven Universe Future for that reason. Some people disagreed, but I felt like it was a long overdue look into the soul of who he is--how his central defining character trait was his selflessness, and how desperately he needed to address that without having it manifest in a toxic way in the tradition of Jasper, White Diamond, or Pink Diamond.
AMETHYST
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It could be argued that Amethyst had the most careful, nuanced, significant character growth of the three supporting Gems in the show. And it started immediately in the first season, when she constantly squabbled with Pearl and revealed that she felt judged and stifled and treated like a misbehaving child as early as "Tiger Millionaire."
Amethyst is set apart from the others in extraordinary ways: She's the clear outsider as the one who didn't fight in the war, the only full Gem from Earth in the group, the only Gem who grew up with no Homeworld dogma but also no roots, the only Gem who'd never met another one of her own and longed on some level for that connection.
The show continues to check in with Amethyst's self-worth issues throughout, giving us "An Indirect Kiss," "On the Run," "Maximum Capacity," "Reformed," and even "Cry For Help" (which seemed like an Amethyst episode until Pearl did her thing). We get "Onion Friend" when Amethyst shows us she thinks she's boring and that nobody values her. And we get "Too Far" when Amethyst really starts to internalize her inferiority based on Peridot's assessment of her and revelations of her origin.
With her cooking on that, we end up spending a string of episodes with Amethyst as the focus character. She's still shaking off dust about not doing what she's supposedly made for when a fight with Jasper twists the knife. She's beaten and insulted and almost physically destroyed, having to be rescued by Stevonnie. Steven misguidedly tries to cheer her up by letting her win at video games and she reveals that she thinks she's "the worst Crystal Gem." She finds an ally in him but still wrestles with her inferiority to Jasper. And when she still can't beat her in a rematch, she breaks down and realizes her strength is in togetherness. From there, she begins the process of healing, helped along by additional support from her family and finding some connection with meeting the Famethyst. When "Tiger Philanthropist" comes along and reveals that Amethyst doesn't need the outlet of wrestling anymore because she DOES feel she's good enough, we can reflect on what she's been through and how far she's come, and how that leads to her being the one who doesn't fall apart on Steven in the face of huge revelations about his mother.
GARNET
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Garnet kind of peaked early, which is not to say it wasn't great. The final episode of Season 1 revealed her identity as a Fusion and further that she was "made of love," and then everyone was on the "Garnet is awesome" train.
Garnet is set apart from the others in extraordinary ways: being a Fusion all the time, leading the team and generally holding the others at an emotional distance, never asking questions, offering resources to the others for stability and balance, being the only Gem with Future Vision and a massive responsibility to use it well.
"Jailbreak" was a huge defining moment for Garnet, and as the "stable" character whose worst problems were mostly other people's problems, she did not seem to need a character arc. She was the culmination of a love story, always awesome and strong and dependable and everyone leaned on her, and in "Jailbreak" we found out why she has such an amazing foundation. But the show was not done with Garnet. Not by a long shot.
Pearl hurt her badly in "Cry For Help." Garnet's breakdown and subsequent focus on building Pearl back up was a significant look into how Ruby and Sapphire operate as a couple. Garnet is amazing partly because she is the result of all that work, but who is she as a person? As an individual who isn't an individual?
We see some of her struggle with leadership as the show moves on--most notably "Pool Hopping," and some of the last episodes when she can't make decisions in the Diamonds' shadow because everything's become about Steven's choices. But Garnet gets a spotlight again when Ruby and Sapphire feel differently about the Pink Diamond revelations and they worry Garnet only exists because of a lie. Digging into the real answers of who they are together through finally asking "The Question," and defining their fusion in their own image, was a move toward more authentic stability for Garnet. Her wedding made headlines, and watching her spearhead the immediate fight against the Diamonds on the beach was awe-inspiring.
PEARL
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Pearl is initially presented as "the perfect one"--she's persnickety, she's organized, she's hyper-competent, and she's all about rules. But something else is going on with her not far beneath the surface. The first Gem to die onscreen--because of overconfidence and a silly mistake. The first (full) Gem to cry onscreen (and then over and over and over), the first to have a breakdown (and then over and over and over), the only one of the four to have faced an impossible choice, a relationship that nearly destroyed her, and a secret that ate her up from the inside. She was the only one who had (nearly) the whole story. All along.
Pearl is set apart from the others in extraordinary ways: the oldest Gem of the group by far, the one who served a Diamond and kept Rose Quartz's secret against her own will, the one who doesn't eat, sleep, or shapeshift. The one who both sat at royalty's right hand and existed as the lowest form of Gem life--created to be a servant, with programming no other type of Gem must live with. Her anxiety, grief, and desperate loneliness makes her one of the most multifaceted and interesting characters in animation history.
We see some minor wigging out from Pearl in "An Indirect Kiss" and a more intense version of it in "Space Race," but we get a much clearer picture that Pearl is Not Okay in "Rose's Scabbard." At that point we assume she thought she was closer to Rose than she really was--that she thought herself special and partial to secrets no one else knew, but that it wasn't true. "Rose's Scabbard" is a different episode on rewatch. Pearl is right that she alone was the one Rose "told everything." She did have a special relationship with her that the others did not.
Pearl's insecurity continues to bite us in the face as the show goes on. She tries to mold Connie into a self-sacrificial super-soldier after her own image in "Sworn to the Sword." Her deep need for someone strong to tell her what to do leads her to betray Garnet in "Cry For Help." Her inability to appropriately make it up to Garnet further complicates our understanding of how she can be so lost. Her jealousy, inertia, and angst frustrate her relationships, with some nice resolution in "Mr. Greg." Peridot's lore drop about Pearls' slave status sheds light on this, and seeing her get underestimated and bossed around by other Homeworld Gems is disheartening as we move on, but when we finally find out that she was Rose's secret accomplice in a false murder that poisoned thousands of their own citizens and led to massive waves of death, and that Pearl's free will to speak about it was also ripped away from her, we finally know, we know why she's been so brittle she could snap all along. She's been trapped inside herself all this time--in an almost literal way--and it's a wonder she's managed to carry on. Pearl's arcs have often been deemed the most emotionally fraught and tinged with gray morality.
These characters all got some very important story arcs focused on them in the midst of moving the plot along. I think the show did a phenomenal job with not only emotional development but with fallout for the other characters. We got to see the Gems' (and other loved ones') reactions when Steven's mental health took a nosedive, and watched them learn more about how to be there for him. We got to see Steven's initially misguided attempts to hype Amethyst up when she was spiraling, leading to him offering her what she actually did need, along with Garnet and Pearl (as Sardonyx) misfiring a bit when they wanted to celebrate Smoky Quartz. We got to see Steven's curiosities and misgivings about Garnet's life as a Fusion, and how Garnet affects others when she does crack under the strain, and how Steven must step up to leadership when Ruby and Sapphire are separated and how Amethyst tries to take care of him while Pearl has a guilt spiral. And we see how Pearl's choices led to Garnet's silent treatment, Amethyst's sulky helplessness, and Steven's attempt to hold the family together; we see how Pearl's confession reformats everyone's understanding of who the Crystal Gems are and why they're even here.
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And even when the show is taking careful turns with each character to paint their nuanced feelings and troubles on the screen, it still managed to give us such a worthwhile overall story, with action and backstory and worldbuilding and everything. What's different about it is that the center was always its people--their relationships, their psyches, their evolution and education. I truly love the balance these creators chose, and I remain grateful that we got to experience this story.
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steddieasitgoes · 1 year
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Eddie is a rockstar at the Grammys and Steve is a clueless seat filler who sits next to him.
Walking around campus, Robin stumbles across a flyer encouraging people to apply to be seat fillers for the award season set to begin in Los Angeles. Robin brings it home to Steve and the two jokingly apply. They think nothing of it until three weeks before the Grammy Awards when they are sent a long email full of rules and NDAs for them to sign. At this point Steve tries to back out but Robin won’t let him -- promising that it’ll be fun and if it’s not he can take her to a basketball game of his choosing and she won’t complain once. 
Fast-forward to the event and it’s not as glamorous as Robin was expecting. They’re not allowed to talk to any of the celebrities they sit next to and most of the time they’re standing out in the hall waiting for someone to leave their seat. 
It’s a whole lot of waiting until 1/3 of the way into the broadcast when the artists start getting antsy and begin to mingle at the lobby bar. Robin gets sent out on seat filler business first and get shuffled around a few times before she winds up in the back of the line of fillers in the hallway. When another seat is vacated, she pushes Steve to the front since he hasn’t seen any of the show yet -- too busy letting others go in front of him because they are all more excited than him. 
The coordinator escorts him to a row near the back of the celebrity section and instructs him to sit in the seat next to a gorgeous long-haired men with the most beautiful brown eyes Steve’s ever seen. The man in question smiles and nods his head in acknowledgment before turning back to the conversation he was having with his seat mate. 
Several minutes pass and Steve waits for the coordinator to come get him but no one does. During the next commercial break, the gorgeous man turns and starts chatting with him. Steve knows he’s not allowed to talk to the talent, but he doesn’t recognize the guy so he figures he must be another seat filler. The guy’s not dressed in a suit like the rest of the celebrities and he’s all the way in the back of the section so he figures he must not be someone important. They spend the next three commercial breaks mindlessly chatting about the acts and Steve learns this guy is really passionate about music. 
If he’s honest, he’s sort of smitten with this dude and he doesn’t even know his name. He tells himself at the next commercial break he’s going to ask what his name is and spends the next several minutes brainstorming how to casually bring it up. 
All of it is for not, though, because suddenly the Grammy Award for Best Metal Performance is being announced and there’s a camera next to Steve pointed directly on the beautiful man beside him. The nominees are read and the beautiful man smiles bashfully at the camera when “Chrissy Song” Lyrics by Eddie Munson, performed by Corroded Coffin is announced. And then he’s leaping to his feet when the song wins and Steve watches in stunned silence as the beautiful man (aka Eddie Munson) graciously pats him on the shoulder before scooting past him to accept his Grammy Award. 
Steve feels embarrassed and tries to run for the hills -- surely he should have known who this Eddie guy was and yet all of that disappears when Eddie makes some comment about this being the best night of his life -- not just because he won a fucking Grammy but also because his manager is MIA leaving him sitting next to the cutest seat filler of all time. 
(Robin shouts at Steve for three whole days when they get back to their apartment and they watch the recorded broadcast. The shouting stops on day four, but starts back up on day five when she receives an email from the coordinator asking for Steve’s contact information. 
Eddie calls him half an hour later.) 
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