❝ mornings in monaco ❞ — husband!charles leclerc x fem!reader
set in monaco where mornings are slow and soft, and husband!charles is a little too affectionate about his sleepy wife, refusing to let her start the day without a dozen small moments of love and attention.
warnings: pure fluff, established relationship, clingy charles, use of y/n, not proofread
word count: 793 , masterlist , a/n : charles crashing at barcelona-catalunya gp.. oof… but congratulations to lewis for p1!! first ferrari win yayy!!!🤍
mornings in monaco were always too bright. like the sun had no idea people were trying to sleep.
you were curled up on the couch in one of charles hoodies. blanket halfway on the floor, hair tangled in a messy bun you threw in before you fell asleep.
charles walked into the living room and stopped immediately.
he was frozen.
you didn’t even open your eyes, you just heard him walking. “if you say anything about my hair i’m divorcing you.”
he laughed. “i wasn’t going to say anything.”
you peeked one eye open. “liar.”
he walked closer slowly, an energy drink in one hand, phone in the other, looking way too put together for someone who had been up late with you.
he crouched down in front of you on the floor.
“y/n,” he said softly.
“hm?”
he tilted his head. “why are you sleeping like a small animal.”
you opened both eyes now. “what??”
he smiled. “like a cute raccoon.”
you stared at him.
“…a raccoon?”
he nodded very seriously. “yes. very cute one.”
you sat up slightly. “that’s not a compliment.”
“it is,” he said immediately. “i like raccoons.” he says with a smitten smile.
you threw the blanket at him but it was weak and he just caught it like it was nothing.
“you’re insane,” you mumbled.
“you’re cute,” he corrected, leaning in and wrapping his arms around your waist anyway, pulling you slightly forward so your forehead bumped his shoulder.
you sighed. but you didn’t move away.
“you’re supposed to be getting ready,” you said into his hoodie.
he hummed. “i am ready.”
you pulled back slightly. “you’re literally not..”
he looked at you like you were the confused one. “i have clothes on.”
“charles.”
he smiled. “what?”
you narrowed your eyes. “you have a meeting in forty minutes.”
he paused.
“…oh.”
you blinked. “oh?”
he checked his phone.
paused again.
“…oh.”
you leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. “you forgot.”
“i didn’t forget,” he said quickly. “i just… lost track of time.”
“you forgot.”
“i was cuddling you,” he said like that explained everything in the universe.
you pointed at him. “that is not an excuse!”
he leaned forward again immediately, resting his head on your shoulder. “it is a very good excuse.”
you tried not to smile. failed.
“you’re unbelievable.” you said.
he kissed the top of your head lightly.
“you’re warm.”
“that’s not relevant.”
he sighed dramatically and stood up, finally starting to actually move around the room.
“okay okay, i’m going,” he said, grabbing his watch.
you watched him for a second. “you’re stressing.”
“i am not stressing.”
you raised an eyebrow.
he looked at you.
“…i’m slightly stressing.”
you nodded. “better.”
he grabbed his shirt, then paused again, looking back at you.
you were still sitting there, blanket falling off your shoulder, watching him with half lidded eyes.
he stopped completely again.
“what now?” you asked.
he walked back over.
you sighed. “charles.”
he crouched in front of you again. “just one second.”
“you said that five minutes ago.”
“this is different.”
“how is it different?”
he didn’t answer right away but instead he just pulled you forward gently by your hands so you were closer to him again.
“what?” you said softer now.
he just looked at you for a second then smiled a little.
“nothing,” he said.
you narrowed your eyes. “you always say nothing and then do something weirdly emotional.”
“i just like you,” he said simply.
you froze a bit. he noticed instantly and smiled more.
“don’t start,” you warned.
“i’m not starting anything,” he said, still holding your hands. “i just… needed to see you properly before i go.”
you blinked. “you’re going to be late.”
“i know.”
“you’re not being very responsible right now.”
“i know.”
you scoff. “you’re impossible.”
he nodded. “i know.”
you tried to pull your hands back but he didn’t let go immediately.
just held them a second longer.
“charles,” you said again, softer.
“hm?”
you looked at him properly now. “go.”
he smiled at your words. he didn’t want togo but he did eventually let go.
he stood up, walked two steps away, then turned back again.
you groaned. “what now.”
he pointed at you slightly. “goodbye mon amour.”
you stared. “bye charles.”
he stood there and starred at you, smiling
you rolled your eyes. “go!”
he nodded, walked away again, paused at the door, looked back one last time.
you threw a pillow at him this time for real.
“GO!” you yelled.
he laughed and finally left.
ten seconds later you heard him shout from the hallway
“i love you!”
you yelled back without thinking, still half buried in blankets
“i love you too idiot.”
and even though he was already gone, you could practically hear him smiling.
pairing: pierre gasly x kika gomes x singer!reader
summary: my choker keeps you closer when she's goin' down on me
a/n: so I was listening to Hayley Kiyoko’s new album and this lyric literally had me clutching at my pearls — however I’m hard of hearing so didn’t really catch the rest of the song. So you get a banging threesome and not a revenge/break up piece 😂
a/n2: also i totally blame @sinofwriting and @residentheartache for encouraging this — i wrote this in like 3 hours total
Masterlist
yn
liked by francisca.cgomes, alexandramalenaleclerc, pierregasly, and 3,712,019 others
tagged: francisca.cgomes, pierregasly
yn: date night tonight with my 2 loves
view all comments
francisca.cgomes: you spoil us, sweetie 💜
↳yn: you definitely deserve it!
user1: face cards so lethal
↳user2: literally all of them 😭
alexandramalenaleclerc: and girls night tomorrow?
↳yn: you know it, darling
↳francisca.cgomes: on the edge of my seat already
↳lilymhe: let's go!
↳carmenmmundt: I can't wait!
user3: the fomo I have right now is insane actually
user4: such a…cute outfit!
↳user5: it's definitely a choice for sure
user6: my favorite couple!
pierregasly: I can't wait for tonight mon chérie
↳yn: 🥰🥰🥰
user7: this is pierre and kika's third?
↳user8: yup
↳user7:…oh
user9: I don't know who I'm more jealous of
↳user10: really? It's yn for sure — kika and pierre are the real prizes
comments have been disabled
ln_studios
liked by user, user, user and 2,813,913 others
ln_studios: transform, yn ln's 4th studio album, will be out XX/XX
view all comments
user11: OH MY GOD EVERYONE SIT DOWN THIS IS IT
user12: this is not a joke!!! Its on her website too!!
user13: another one??
user14: can someone say untalented nepo baby?
↳user15: I'll say it louder actually
↳user15: UNTALENTED NEPO BABY
↳user16: this! I've been saying it for years — she's not talented and the only reason she's still making music is because her family owns the studio
user17: while we're talking about things yn doesn't deserve…
↳user18: let's mention pierre and kika?
↳user17: yes! Like she's so…cutesy and immature for them?
↳user18: right? Like grow the fuck up girl
↳user19: she probably never will. not when her whole…thing…sells
↳user18: UGH
Private Messages: Pierre, Kika, and YN
ln_studios
liked by user, user, user, and 2,717,162 others
ln_studios: YN is back in the studio this week — a new single, unrelated to her album transform, dropping Friday!
view all comments
user20: another single? Dropping literally right before her new album?
↳user21: can someone say attention seeker?
↳user22: attention whore more like
user23: yay!! It's been a drought for so long and now we're being fed!
↳user24: I can't wait!
user25: if this isn't part of the album…does this mean it's like really new?
↳user26: probably!
↳user25: well now I'm even more excited!
Private Messages: Pierre, Kika, and YN
yn
liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt, and 2,913,992 others
yn: choker — out now
view all comments
user27: …oh my god???
↳user28: I'm shook. So so shook??
francisca.cgomes: yn! This is so good!
↳yn: I'm so glad you liked baby
user29: I'm blushing for them, oh lord
pierregasly: well.
↳pierregasly: mon chérie that is certainly a song, a very good song!
↳yn: 😘😘
user30: I've fainted dead away (apparently just like kika and pierre do for yn???) liked by yn
user31: my choker keeps you closer when she's goin' down on me????
↳user31: damn yn I didn't know you had it in you
↳user32: sounds like she's got a lot of things in her (and kika and pierre!) liked by yn
↳user32: girl i see you liking horny comments liked by yn
user33: when we got told we were getting a new single, I wasn't expecting such a explicit look into their sex lives…but I'm not complaining 🫣🫣
↳user34: neither am I! I would actually like some more!
↳yn: 😉
↳user34: what does that mean?? YN! What does that mean?!?
f1gossip
liked by user, user, user, and 4,822,172 others
f1gossip: Pierre Gasly and Kika Gomes arrive in style to YN LN's launch party celebrating her new album, transform. This comes immediately after LN released a single, choker — seemingly a closer look into their so far private sex life.
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user35: the difference between choker and transform…
↳user36: talk about whiplash
user37: transform is an amazing album and I'm definitely going to do a deep dive on it later…but choker literally has me by the neck
↳user38: apparently so does yn 🫣🫣
↳user37: 😳
user39: ok yn has always been one of my celebrity crush's but this song has elevated her to astronomical levels
↳user40: MOOD
user41: she heard you all calling her boring and untalented and not worth pierre and kika's time and said "not on my watch"
user42: ok but the jewelry on Pierre and kika match…is that a choker from yn?????
↳yn: maybe
↳user43: OH MY GOD YOU FREAK
↳yn: 😂😂
↳yn: can you blame me?
↳user43: no ma'am that's pure respect
yn
liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, maxvertsappen1, and 3,822,183 others
tagged: francisca.cgomes, pierregasly
yn: scratches down our backs, chokers around their necks, we're doing ok
comments have been limited
francisca.cgomes: 😳🥰
↳yn: 😘💜
pierregasly: come back to bed mon chérie
↳yn: I'll be right there my loves
landonorris: I'm…going to go bleach my eyes
↳yn: or maybe take some notes and learn something?
↳landonorris: rude! I don't need to take notes
↳pierregasly: you do but yn, you know you shouldn't bully the less fortunate
maxverstappen1: I knew you three were freaks
↳yn: I've seen your search history…keep talking
↳maxverstappen1: no I don't think I will
↳yn: good choice
charles_leclerc: …no thank you.
↳yn: 😂
↳pierregasly: 😂
Taglist
If you want to join my taglist, interact with my taglist post. I won’t be adding from anywhere else
summary: there’s no harm in grabbing lunch with your ex husband just to catch up, right? that doesn’t mean you guys are going to get back together, right?…right?
pairing: charles leclerc x ex wife!reader
request: i'll be attending with charles leclerc and would like to order a london fog & the host special with where is my husband? playing! for the london fog, can i get the exes to lovers be divorced to lovers. if that still counts as exes? - @tabisswag
warnings: fluff • suggestiveness - minors dni • brief suicide mention • time skips • likely a mistake or two
vicious speaks: another one!! i’m really having a blast bringing all of your tea party requests to life and i truly hope that you all have been enjoying reading them 💓
tea party masterlist | charles masterlist | read on ao3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
liked by charles_leclerc and others
yn an incredible time in venice 💚🤍❤️
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alexademie hottie ❤️🔥
⤷ yn you would know 😝
fan charles in the likes???
sabrinacarpenter wait marry me
⤷ yn say less
fan did i step into an alternate universe? why is charles in your likes 😭
selenagomez the best time with you 💞
⤷ yn 💓
fan 😍😍😍
isabelamerced we looked so good 🤭
⤷ yn very true 😌
fan can we talk about charlie boy being in the likes?
kitkatyfamilia ❤️
⤷ yn 💖
fan seems like so much fun 🤩
maudeapatow loved seeing you, pretty girl 😚
⤷ yn 😘
yncharles i’m being sooo normal about charles in the likes i swear i don’t even care (lying)
zendaya missed you!! let’s not go so long without seeing each other this time, kay? ❤️
⤷ yn oh for sure!! need to see you all the time 🫶🏼
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
liked by yn and others
charles_leclerc Venice 🇮🇹
view all comments
arthur_leclerc still mad you didn’t take me with you
fan what the fuck is happening
yncharles i’m being sooo chill
fan i’m starting a rumor
fan ynnnn
fan first you’re in yn’s likes and now she’s in yours…hm.
fan oh venice unlocked something for ya’ll, didn’t it 😭
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
texts between you and charles
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
yn has added to their close friends story
caption: can’t two people reconnect?
likes and replies
charles_leclerc liked your story
charles_leclerc 😉 ♥︎
kellypiquet liked your story
kellypiquet yeah, i saw this coming
arthur_leclerc liked your story
arthur_leclerc oh thank God, he’s been insufferable about you ever since venice 🙃
⤷ yn lol
maxverstappen1 liked your story
maxverstappen1 *pretends to be shocked*
⤷ yn 😭
kikagomes liked your story
kikagomes pierre is gonna lose it
flavy.barla liked your story
flavy.barla 🙊🙊🙊
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
texts from the baby got baku gc
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
texts between you and charles
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
winter break
liked by arthur_leclerc and others
f1gossip Guess it’s safe to say that Charles and Yn are back on! The divorced pair have been spotted all over each other in Monaco lately 😅 What do you guys think about this reunion?
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fan WAR IS OVER 🙌
fan i have no one to freak out about this with
fan JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN RELIEF
fan this is the best news ever
fan IT’S NEVER OVER
fan arthur liking this post is hilarious
fan they were always the best couple 🥰
yncharles NEVER KILL YOURSELF DIVAS YN AND CHARLES CAN GET BACK TOGETHER AT ANY MOMENT
fan I’M NO LONGER A CHILD OF DIVORCE 😭
fan this is the best day of my life
fan lmao i know that interview she gave after venice haunts her
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
yn has added to their story
♫ Raye・WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?
caption: found him 💋
likes and replies
charles_leclerc liked your story
charles_leclerc love you ❤️
flavy.barla liked your story
fan 🚨THEY ARE INSTAGRAM OFFICIAL🚨 🚨I REPEAT CHARLES AND YN ARE INSTAGRAM OFFICIAL AGAIN🚨
arthur_leclerc liked your story
fan IT’S CONFIRMED 🍾
kikagomes liked your story
yncharles I USED TO BEG FOR TIMES LIKE THIS
pierregasly liked your story
fan THE SONG? THE CAPTION? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US?
kellypiquet liked your story
fan SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP IDC THAT WE ALREADY KNEW IT ISN’T THE SAME
pascale.leclerc.385 liked your story
fan 😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️
maxverstappen1 liked your story
fan love isn’t dead after all 🥹
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
texts from baby got baku gc
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
liked by charles_leclerc and others
yn bad idea right is now yours 💫
view all comments
charles_leclerc it's me, i'm the bad idea 😏
⤷ fan HELP
fan "i only see him as a friend, biggest lie i ever said" HELLO
yncharles i don't know what i want to talk about first, the song or THE FUCKING COVER ART BEING A NOTE FROM CHARLES
fan you're a sick, sick individual (affectionate)
fan i’m gonna be so insufferable about this forever
fan "i told my friends i was asleep, but i never said where or in whose sheets", "i'm sure i've seen much hotter men, but i really can't remember when" yn, oh my God 😭
⤷ flavy.barla she never said where but we knew 🙃
⤷ kikagomes we totally knew lmao
⤷ kellypiquet yeah she’s really bad at lying 😂
⤷ yn alright 😭
⤷ fan i’m crying this is so funny they knew exactly what you were up to
fan THE NOTE!! THE SONG!! CHARLES' COMMENT!! HELP!!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
liked by yn and others
charles_leclerc it was very good idea, actually.
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yn very true ♥️ ♥︎ by author
fan i am incapable of being normal about them
fan 🥹🫶
fan still can’t believe you guys are back together
fan i know you’ve been DYING to post her
⤷ charles_leclerc you have no idea
⤷ fan how sweet 🥺
fan my parents <3
fan ❤️❤️❤️
fan cuties
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .
november
yn_leclerc and charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1 and others
yn_leclerc oops!…we did it again
view all comments
charles_leclerc our rings are finally back where they belong ❤️
⤷ yn 🥹♥️
fan MY GOD
pascale.leclerc.385 Et c'est la dernière fois, tous les deux!
⤷ charles_leclerc 😂 Promis, maman.
⤷ yn_leclerc What he said! ♥️
fan oh i didn’t see this coming!!
kikagomes 🩵🩵🩵 ♥︎ by author
fan how do i explain that i’m crying cause a vroom vroom man and his ex wife got remarried and while still sounding normal
⤷ fan you can’t 🥲
arthur_leclerc and suddenly everything is right in the world! ♥︎ by author
fan omg congrats 🥹
flavy.barla you can’t keep these two apart ❤️ ♥︎ by author
fan and now we’re back in the right timeline 😌
kellypiquet saw this coming as soon as i found out you guys were talking again 😂 congrats, you two! 🥰 ♥︎ by author
:: he might be good for your heart, but he's definitely bad for business.
CONTENT. fem.rea smau fluff sabrina carpenter as face claim
liked by oscarpiastri, tatemcrae, and others
ynln "bad for business" out now 🤍 view comments
tatemcrae 🥹🥹love it liked by creator
user1 an f1 driver in yns likes??? user2 WHAT user3 no RIGHT i was baffled when i saw
user4 why is no one talking about how she wrote this song about a man
user5 GOOD FOR MY HEART????????
liked by oscarpiastri, magui_corceiro, and others
ynln we are going to monte carlo view comments
user6 monaco..... grand prix...... oscar piastri....... user7 LITERALLY NO CORRELATION BETWEEN THE TWO this is so random
magui_corceiro can't wait to see you in the paddockkk liked by creator user8 WHAT user9 meaning yn's gonna be with mclaren... okay.... it's quite obvious now..
liked by oscarpiastri, mclarenf1, and others
ynln side quest #81 view comments
mclarenf1 Glad to have you with us today 🏁
oscarpiastri Did you have fun ynln yes i did actually! ☺️ user11 this is so random holy user12 I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS OMG
liked by tatemcrae, alexandrasaintmleux, and others
ynln getting lectured by your friends is NOT fun view comments
tatemcrae it's for the best babes ynln you don't know me like my baby 😕 user13 WRAP IT UPPPPPPPPP
ynslnsource is our yn cuffed? 😚 liked by creator
liked by ynln, landonorris, and others
oscarpiastri Late post from Monaco view comments
user14 yn casually in his likes after that whole analysis... okay...
landonorris great weekend liked by creator
user15 song rec plsss oscarpiastri Bad for Business user16 bros not even trying to hide it anymore omg
user17 i fell for the propaganda
liked by oscarpiastri, madisonbeer, and others
ynln a break from work view comments
ynslnsource we need more songs come onn ynln are love songs accepted user18 YES ACTUALLY
user19 the hand bro user20 this is practically a hard launch baiii
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others
ynln he's good for my heartttt view comments
oscarpiastri Hi sweetie ynln hi babyyyy user21 I hate my life
landonorris congratsss ynln fym congrats you've known for the longest time?????
user22 this doesn't feel real omg user23 so unexpecteddddddd user24 you must be blind then!
magui_corceiro so cutee liked by creator
ynlnsource congratulations to you both of you! so adorable 🎀
liked by ynln, landonorris, and others
oscarpiastri I love my girlfriend view comments
ynln I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND oscarpiastri Hopefully landonorris omg good luck yn ynln ????
maxverstappen1 Congrats!!
user25 i love these two 🥹
user26 im crying what do they talk about
ynln i love uuu oscarpiastri I love you more
liked by ynln, mclarenf1, and others
oscarpiastri My girlfriend is so beautiful view comments
mclarenf1 Congratulations! 🧡
ynln i know i'm beautiful nonchalant 6'7 AND a fine mama i know i know oscarpiastri Yes you are user27 oh he's downbad
user28 it was so obvious ever since he started liking all her posts OMGGGG
user29 manifesting a man like this!!!!
tatemcrae treat my baby right or you're ending up in p22 EVERY race
user30 okay great now we just need a few more years and ring oscarpiastri Years is too long ynln HELLO????? oscarpiastri Hi sweetheart ❤️
🎀 this is so bad oh my gosh i lost the plot like 50 times it's so rushed makes no sense the plot is NOT there guys don't attack me please i'm not made for smaus
❝ we were never just friends ❞ — charles leclerc x fem!reader
everything was always “just friends” until it started feeling like a lie neither of you could fix.
warnings: slow burn, jealousy, emotional tension, angst, kissing, not proofread
word count: 1.1k , masterlist , a/n : first fic yay
you and charles had a history that did not feel like a history. there was no beginning, no clear moment where things started. it was just a slow blur of two lives folding into each other until people stopped asking how you knew charles and started assuming you had always been there. which, in a way, you had.
you were there before the cameras before the podiums before the world turned his name into something loud. charles was there before your life got complicated enough that you stopped telling people everything. somehow you both stayed.
at first it was simple. late night messages that started with “you up?” and somehow turned into hours. voice notes from charles when he was traveling, half asleep, switching between french and english like he could not decide which version of himself to be. you sending him pictures of your day like he was part of it.
because he was. it was normal. too normal.
the first time someone pointed it out you laughed like it was a joke. one of his friends, leaning back on the couch, watching the two of you like he had figured something out.
“you two are weird,” he said. “you act like a couple but without the label.”
charles barely looked up. “we’re just friends.”
you nodded too fast. “yeah. just friends.”
too quick. too rehearsed.
the friend just hummed like he did not believe either of you. and maybe he should not have.
because there were moments. small ones you did not talk about because talking about them would make them real.
like when charles would instinctively stand closer to you in crowds, not touching but always there, like a habit his body learned before his brain did.
or when you would catch him laughing and realize you were not even listening anymore. just looking. the shape of his smile. the way he softened when he was not performing anything for anyone.
you started noticing things you had no reason to notice.
that was the problem.
it shifted after a race weekend. noise, cameras, lights, people pulling at him from every direction. you waited like always. not because you had to. just because it was what you did.
when he finally found you it was late. quieter than everything else. he dropped down next to you like his body finally remembered how to breathe.
“you ok?” you asked.
charles nodded. “tired.”
you gave a small smile. “you’re always tired.”
“yeah,” he said softly. “i know.”
then, after a pause that felt longer than it should’ve, he added:
“i saw her again.”
your chest tightened before you even processed it.
“her?” you asked, already knowing.
“yeah. the girl i told you about.”
oh.
right.
that girl.
you tried to keep your face the same. “she nice?”
“yeah,” he said. not looking at you. “she is.”
and something in that moment shifted.
after that, everything fractured quietly.
texts got shorter, calls ended faster.
you stopped sending him the small things.
he stopped sending them first.
and silence started growing between you like it had always been there, just waiting. you would see his name pop up and hesitate too long.
he would start typing and stop.
then came the night everything stopped pretending.
after an event, outside somewhere too quiet for how loud everything had been earlier.
charles found you like he always did. but he did not smile.
“you’ve been avoiding me,” he said.
you blinked. “i haven’t.
he let out a small breath. almost a laugh. but not really. “yeah, ok.”
you looked away. “i’ve just been busy.”
“so have i,” he said. then softer, “but i still show up.”
that made you go quiet.
because he did.
always.
you were the one who had started disappearing without meaning to admit it.
“you’re imagining it,” you tried.
charles shook his head. “no. i’m not.”
silence. heavier than before.
you swallowed. “i don’t know how to be around you anymore.”
that made him stop completely. like something in him had been waiting to hear that sentence.
“why?” he asked quietly.
you opened your mouth.
then closed it.
because the truth did not have a clean shape.
so you just said, “i don’t know.”
charles nodded slowly.
“me neither,” he admitted.
you looked at him then. and that was the mistake. because looking at him made everything worse.
“but i hate this,” he said. “whatever this is between us.”
your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. “so do i.”
a pause.
then, quieter: “then why does it feel like i’m losing you?”
that landed too deep. neither of you had moved, but it already felt like distance.
charles stepped closer. not rushing. not forcing. just closer.
“i don’t want to lose you,” he said, like it was obvious.
your throat tightened. “you already are.”
“no,” he said immediately. “no, i’m right here.”
and for the first time in a while, it felt true. you looked at him, really looked. and something in the space between you finally snapped into honesty.
“charles,” you said, barely above a whisper.
he answered just as soft. “yeah?”
you should have said something smarter. something safer.
instead you just shook your head a little like you were giving up on pretending.
“this is stupid,” you whispered.
his mouth twitched slightly. “yeah.”
a beat.
you let out a breath that almost felt like a laugh. “we’re actually so dumb.”
“very,” he agreed.
neither of you moved away. it happened slowly, like neither of you trusted it. charles lifted his hand first, barely touching your cheek like he was asking without words. you did not stop him. that was all he needed.
he leaned in first, hesitant in a way you had never seen from him before, like he was scared this would break something. you met him halfway.
the kiss was soft. uncertain at first. like both of you were still checking if it was real. then it stopped being uncertain. not dramatic. not rushed. just… real.
like something that had been happening between you for years finally caught up to the moment.
when you pulled back slightly, you were both still too close. foreheads almost touching. charles let out a quiet breath, like he was trying to steady himself.
“ok,” he murmured.
you huffed a small laugh. “ok?”
“yeah,” he said, faint smile now. “i don’t think… we’re just friends.”
you rolled your eyes a little, but your hand stayed on his sleeve like you were afraid he might disappear.
Hi, I don't know if you saw the Barcelona Fan Zone video of last year, where Lewis says that Charles is a great singer, that he can sing, so thinking about it, I was thinking about a story in which the reader is close to Charles (she can be the Leclerc sister or his partner) and she is a singer and she releases a new album where in this album there is some music where there is a background voice, a male voice and it's Charles, but no one knows and someone found out or she tells in some podcast or something like that. (I'm sorry for the bad English. English is not my first language. I'm trying not to use the translator)
—🇧🇷🦚
Masked Singer
Summary: Your fans hear a familiar voice in one of your songs and track it down to a popular F1 driver....
Song: Brazil · Declan McKenna
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
Word count: 2.3k
MASTERLIST - F1
The first time you heard Charles Leclerc sing, it wasn't on a stage or in a studio—it was in the shower of his Monaco apartment, steam fogging the mirrors as his off-key rendition of Queen’s "Somebody to Love" echoed off the tiles.
You’d been dating for three months, still in that secret, giddy phase where every stolen kiss felt like a rebellion against the world, and his terrible, enthusiastic vocals only made your chest ache with affection.
"You’re murdering Freddie Mercury," you’d laughed, leaning against the bathroom doorframe, but he’d just grinned, soapy hair dripping, and belted the chorus louder.
Months later, when you were hunched over your laptop in a dimly lit recording studio, wrestling with the final track of your album, it hit you—the raw, unfiltered warmth of his voice was exactly what the song needed.
Not the polished perfection of a session singer, but something alive, something real.
You didn’t tell him when you slipped the recording into the mix, just layered his harmonies under yours like a secret pressed between the pages of a book.
The album blew up faster than anyone expected. Critics raved about the "mysterious, haunting" backing vocals on Silhouettes, your breakout single, and fans dissected every note, speculating about the unnamed collaborator.
You bit your tongue through interviews, deflecting questions with practiced smiles, until the night a podcast host slid a question across the table like a loaded gun: "Who’s the man on track seven? The internet’s losing its mind."
Your pulse thudded in your throat. Charles was halfway across the world, preparing for qualifying in Singapore, blissfully unaware that his shower singing was about to become a global mystery.
The host leaned in, eyebrows raised. "Come on," they teased. "Who’s your secret weapon?"
You exhaled, fingers tightening around the edge of the table. The truth tasted electric on your tongue—how Charles had protested when you first asked him ("I sound like a dying goat!"), how he’d eventually caved after two glasses of wine, laughing into the mic as you hit record.
"Someone very special," you said carefully, and the host’s eyes lit up like you’d handed them a map to buried treasure.
You didn’t say his name, didn’t even hint at the way his voice cracked on the high notes when he got nervous, or how he’d buried his face in your shoulder afterward, groaning about how he’d "ruined your career."
The podcast buzzed with speculation—was it a famous producer? A childhood friend?—while you traced the rim of your water glass, biting back a smile.
Charles called you that night, breathless between practice laps. "They’re saying it’s Ed Sheeran," he hissed, and you could hear the grin in his voice, the way he was trying so hard not to laugh. "Should I tell them it’s just me?"
"Don’t you dare," you warned, but your voice was soft, fond. The secret thrummed between you like a live wire, exhilarating and dangerous.
By morning, the internet had spun a dozen theories, but no one guessed the truth—that the voice haunting every chorus belonged to Ferrari’s golden boy, who’d sung it barefoot in your kitchen at 3 AM, half-asleep and achingly sincere.
You spent the next few days holed up in his Monaco apartment, curtains drawn against the paparazzi’s lenses, playing the album on loop just to watch his reactions.
Charles would freeze mid-bite of croissant when his own voice floated through the speakers, cheeks flushing as if he couldn’t believe it was really him layered under yours.
"It sounds… professional," he mumbled once, staring at the ceiling like the words embarrassed him, and you laughed, pressing replay on Silhouettes just to hear him groan.
The third night, wine-drunk and giddy, you caught him humming your bridge in the shower—this time on-key, like he’d practiced when no one was listening.
You recorded it on your phone, the steam distorting his voice into something dreamlike, and sent it to your producer with a single line: Next album’s secret weapon. He replied with a string of exclamation marks.
Then came the tour.
You knew Charles would be watching from home—he’d texted you a blurry selfie from his couch, grinning with the TV remote in hand—but nothing prepared you for the moment the backing track for Silhouettes cut out mid-chorus.
The crowd’s murmur swelled as your own voice faltered—then his voice surged through the speakers, live and raw, harmonizing with yours like he was standing right there.
The audience gasped. You whirled toward the wings, heart hammering, just as a figure stepped onto the stage—hooded, masked, gripping a mic like he owned it.
The spotlight caught the glint of his Rolex as he lifted the mic to his lips, and you knew. Charles’ voice, unpracticed and achingly familiar, filled the arena as he slid into the verse you’d written about him.
The mask hid his face, but not the way his free hand found yours in the darkness, squeezing tight.
Later, backstage, he’d yank the mask off with a breathless laugh, hair mussed from the fabric. "I panicked," he admitted, pressing his forehead to yours. "Forgot the words."
You kissed him, tasting adrenaline and the champagne he’d stolen from your rider. The crowd was still screaming—for an encore, for answers—but all you heard was his whisper: Again?
Two days later, a paparazzi shot of Charles leaving your tour bus at dawn went viral—his jacket zipped to his chin, your lipstick smudged on his collar—and the internet imploded.
Fans spliced the podcast audio with clips of him singing karaoke in Monaco bars years ago, the evidence damning in its imperfection. Ferrari’s PR team sent seventeen unanswered texts, while your manager screamed into her phone about "leverage" and "brand synergy."
You ignored them all, curled in the hollow of Charles’ chest as he scrolled through memes comparing his vocals to "a lovesick seagull."
“stop watching that shit,” bf!katsuki groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. “you’ve seen it at least twelve times.”
“katsuki, i’m watching it for research purposes.”
“research, my ass. you’re staring at my chest the whole time.” he points at the screen. “i see how your eyes drift, you pervert.”
you gasp, placing a dramatic hand over your chest.
“excuse you!? i take this ad very seriously, just so you know.”
a smile threatens to break across your face, but you fight it.
“oh yeah?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips as well. “what’s the ad about then?”
you immediately freeze.
“ugh— it’s about…” your eyes dart to the screen. “uh…”
nothing. your brain comes up completely blank.
a second passes. then an idea hits.
“you don’t know your own ad, katsuki?” you fire back. “that’s so unprofessional.”
his smirk vanishes.
“hah?” he lifts his head, staring at you in disbelief. “what kind of comeback is that?”
“it’s a valid question.”
“no, it’s not!”
“it is.”
“you’re full of shit.”
a laugh slips out before you can stop it.
“sounds like someone doesn’t know his own ad.”
his eye twitches.
“don’t turn this against me.” he points at you accusingly. “give me that phone.”
“nope.”
“give it.”
“make me.”
the second the words leave your mouth, you regret them. his grin is immediate.
“oh, now you’ve done it.”
“katsuki—”
he lunges across the couch.
“no— katsuki!!”
you squeal, nearly dropping your phone as you scramble away. he grabs for it while you twist out of reach, both of you laughing and shoving each other around the cushions.
“hand it over!”
“never!”
“you watched it twelve times!”
“research purposes!”
“liar!” he barks, already trying to pry the phone from your hands while you laugh again.
a/n: nobody is watching that damn ad for the product he's selling. tags: @tokkushin @kamislop
── ✶ before you read: 1.4k words ; female reader ; established relationship ; very unserious influencer reader ; pro hero katsuki ; fluff and banter ; masterlist.
based on this post and amira’s hilarious comment
“Get ready with me to dump my pro hero boyfriend!”
You grin into your phone camera as you prop it up against a bottle of moisturizer on the bathroom counter. Beside you, Katsuki is brushing his teeth. The brushing immediately stops. You watch as his eyes narrow at you through the mirror, stifling a giggle.
“The fuck did you just say?”
You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. “Hi, guys!” you continue cheerfully, waving at the camera. “Today I’m getting ready to break up with my pro hero boyfriend. Some of you might know him as Dynamight—”
“Is this some bullshit new trend online?” He crosses his arms, toothbrush hanging in his mouth as he looks at you unamused.
“—who I’m leaving because, unfortunately, he’s become a huge burden in my life, and I need to cut him loose.”
The toothbrush leaves his mouth, falling into the sink as he gapes, “What?”
You reach for a makeup sponge. “Normally, I would start with skincare, but he buys me the expensive stuff, and since I’m dumping him and won’t have his wallet anymore, I have to make it last. Can’t be wasting it on him, you know?”
“Hah?” he snaps, inching closer as he stares into the camera with furrowed brows. You easily ignore him.
“I’ve been meaning to break up with him sooner, but I just didn’t want to handle all the crying and stuff—from him, not me, just to be clear.”
“I’m not gonna fuckin’ cry over your stupid ass video—”
“Unfortunately, he’s a very emotional person. Very clingy, too.”
“I’m not clingy. You’re the one who spams me with texts while I’m on patrol!”
You dab concealer beneath your eyes as he defends himself against every accusation you make, and it becomes far too difficult to hide your laughter. You let out a soft giggle, and he throws you a very offended glare. (Yes, Katsuki is smart enough to know that this is a silly little joke on your part just to be funny. No, that does not stop him from treating this as a serious matter in which he has to protect his dignity. Lucky for you, that only makes for better views.)
“Now, some people might think breaking up with a pro hero wouldn’t be very smart for my brand, but luckily, mine is very easy to replace.”
“Easy to replace?”
You have to look away from him because the expression on his face is making it ten times harder to pretend to take this seriously, and you’re barely keeping a straight face. “There are lots of blonde men in the world, so I’m sure I’ll easily find someone else to fit the role.”
“Who the fuck are you gonna find better than me, huh?” He challenges, particularly irritated by that statement.
“As you can see, he’s already in denial.”
“Oi! Don’t ignore me!”
“Anger is the next stage of grief.”
The phone is grabbed before you can dab on your blush, and he spins you around, pinning you against the bathroom counter as he gives you a dirty look. You break into a fit of giggles, wrapping your arms around his neck as you press an innocent kiss to the tip of his nose.
“Hi, baby,” you hum.
He raises a brow. “Don’t hi baby me, dumbass. You make sure you tell that camera that you’ll never dump your boyfriend and that there’s no other man—blonde or not—like him, and—”
You roll your eyes, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a soft, slow kiss, cutting his words off effectively. He melts into you, kissing back as soon as your lips touch his, and you like to think that your silly idea only makes him kiss you a little more seriously. A little more meaningful, just to prove something.
“Don’t worry,” you peck the corner of his mouth, “I was just kidding. I’d never dump someone with pro hero money from the number five spot.”
— — — — —
“Get ready with me to get proposed to by my pro hero boyfriend!”
You beam at your phone camera from your vanity. Behind you, Katsuki is sprawled across the bed, one ankle hooked over the other, scrolling on his phone while sipping on his morning coffee. The coffee immediately goes down the wrong pipe.
He chokes, and a terribly strained coughing fit erupts from behind you. You almost feel bad for disrupting his peace on his day off—almost.
“Now, the proposal hasn’t been planned yet,” you explain to your hypothetical audience while reaching for your moisturizer, “but I’ve decided I want it to happen today.”
Another coughing fit. “What?”
“Katsuki, are you okay? You’re coughing a lot today. Do you have a cold?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, woman—what the fuck are you up to this time?”
You give him an innocent smile as you say, “Nothing!”
You’ve decided to keep this little game going for as long as you can—a new scheme whenever you can to keep him on his toes. Partially because you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy his reactions, but partially because, truthfully, you think seeing a softer, more human side of Katsuki will do him some wonders in the public eye. And what sort of doting girlfriend would you be if you didn’t take your chances at helping his public image?
“Why do you keep lying to your audience through these stupid videos?” he demands.
You gasp. “Lying?”
“Yes, lying,” he gives you a flat look, eyeing you like you’re crazy for denying the accusation.
“Why would this be a lie?” You challenge. Then, dramatically, you gasp, clutching your chest in mock hurt as you hiss, “So are you saying that you don't want to marry me?”
“W-what? I didn’t fuckin’ say that—don’t put words in my mouth—”
“So, I guess this video is now becoming a get-ready-with-me to get dumped, because apparently Katsuki wants to break up with me because he fell out of love with me and found someone new. I think he’s been emotionally cheating on me with someone—a sidekick, I’d bet. Always trust your gut, ladies—your gut never lies.”
“Hah?! You—” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as he exhales tiredly and gives you a dry look. “You know what, that’s right. M’fuckin’ dumping your ass.”
You clap a hand over your mouth dramatically. “Everyone cancel him!”
— — — — —
“Get ready with me to make out with my pro hero boyfriend!”
You beam at your phone camera yet again. But today, for the first time in the history of these videos, there is no Katsuki behind you that is staring at you in disbelief or glaring at you in irritation. Instead, Katsuki is sitting on the bed, looking up from his phone as a wide, smug grin spreads across his face.
“Finally,” he says, setting his phone aside. “You thought of a good one.”
You blink. “Wait—”
“No, no, you can’t take shit back now. You wanna make out with your pro hero boyfriend, so that’s what your video is gonna be, baby.”
“Katsuki—”
He stands, hastily walking over as he says in approval, “Now we’re talkin. I like this video idea.”
He materializes in front of you, easily grabbing you by the wrist and tugging you up before he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. His lips start peppering kisses up your throat and along your jaw as he works his way up to your lips. You melt against your will, giggling a little as you hiss (weakly), “Kats! We can’t…you can’t kiss me yet!”
“And why the fuck not, huh? You got some other boyfriend to kiss? Bring ‘im here, I can fight.”
“I have to get ready first,” you huff, shoving him lightly, “that’s the point of a get-ready-with-me? You have to wait till my makeup is done.”
“What’s the point in that?” He hums, pressing a soft, delicate peck to your lips before he murmurs, “s’just gonna be a waste of all your hard work when m’done with you, yeah baby?”
You shiver at the tone in his voice, pupils dilating as you stare at him. His eyes are twinkling with amusement as he gives you a wolfish grin, reaching over and locking your phone, and cutting the camera off from recording. This video might not end up getting posted at all, you think—this one might just break community guidelines.
Here you both, known each other for three fucking years, trained together, fought together, insulted each other constantly and what nickname does he have for you? Woman.
Yup…thats it
For some reason he never mentions any of the weird shit you do or uses it against you. Like how you tripped over thin air, or misspelled the word ‘because’. Didn’t mention how dumb it was that you dotted your eyes with hearts. Or how your forehead has that stupid crinkle in it when you focus.
Bakugo never mentioned it…but he noticed it. He’ll bring it up to you in private. Like he’ll give you a new pencil since you kept bitting your old one. But never called you Pencil Muncher. Or wrote the correct spelling of a relatively easy to spell word on your paper when you didn’t ask. And he didn’t call you dyslexic.
But what he did call you was:
Woman.
“Damn, Woman! Move”
“Pick up the pace Woman”
“Fight harder Woman”
But why? Why nothing personal?
Well if it was gonna be a personal nickname, he would say:
Princess, baby girl, sexy…so for him..calling you woman would stop him from saying something less appropriate….
cw: smut, fem!reader, pro hero kiri, fingering, cunnilingus, praise, biting (his teeth aint sharp for nth), lmk if i missed anything <3
a/n: short drabble bc im moving rn cant post as much babies
𖤓 You were Pro Hero Red Riot’s prettiest little secret.
He hated it—hated tucking you away like something shameful. It went against every instinct he had, every loud, proud bone in his body. But the thought of some villain catching wind of you, using you to get to him… it made his blood run cold. So he kept you hidden. Kept you safe. And in return, he ruined you in every way that mattered.
That’s how you ended up on your back, thighs spread wide while two of his thick fingers worked deep inside your dripping cunt.
“Fuck, baby…” His voice was low, rough, almost reverent. He watched the way you clenched around him, slick glistening down his knuckles. “Look at you. So goddamn pretty like this.”
He curled his fingers, dragging against that spongy spot that made your hips jerk. A broken whimper slipped out of you and he groaned, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your inner thigh—sharp, possessive, leaving another mark only he would ever see.
“Kiri—ah—too much,” you gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets.
He didn’t slow down. If anything, he pressed in deeper, scissoring his fingers while his tongue soothed the fresh bite. “You can take it. Been thinkin’ about this sweet little pussy all damn day.” His hips rocked against the mattress, cock straining painfully against his pants. He had ten minutes. Ten minutes before he had to meet Bakugou for a stealth op, and he was spending every last one of them between your legs.
“Missed me that bad, huh?” he murmured against your skin, breath hot. “Couldn’t even wait. Dripping all over my fingers like you need it.”
You tried to close your thighs around his wrist but he tsked, one large hand pinning your leg open. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into you filled the room, mixing with your shaky breaths.
“Eijirou— you’re gonna be late—”
“Don’t care.” His voice was hoarse, almost desperate. He dropped his head and sealed his mouth over your swollen clit, sucking hard. The filthy, wet sound of it made your back arch clean off the bed. “Bakugou can wait. You can’t.”
His tongue flicked fast and relentless while his fingers curled again and again. The coil in your stomach wound tighter, unbearable. Your thighs started to tremble.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me. Make a mess—fuck, just like that—”
You shattered with a cry, squirting around his fingers, thighs shaking violently as he kept working you through it. He groaned like he was the one coming, lapping at you like he couldn’t get enough.
When your body finally went limp, he pulled back just enough to press a slow, lingering kiss to your twitching clit.
“Good girl,” he rasped, voice thick with want. His lips were shiny. “My good fuckin’ girl.”
He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, breathing hard against your thigh, like he was debating whether ten minutes was enough time to flip you over and sink his cock into you after all.
𖤓 childhood best friend!max x childhood best friend!reader
𖤓 note: read the Oscar version, Lando version and Kimi version here!
𖤓 Listen to "Ribs" by Lorde (summer is officially here gang!!) when reading this!
Childhood best friend!Max who was always the most intense kid on the playground. Even as a child, he didn't just "play" games; he competed to win them. And you were the only person he actually let win sometimes not because he was being nice, but because he liked seeing you happy.
Childhood best friend!Max who has a "no bullshit" policy with everyone in the world except you. He can be blunt, cold, or even a little arrogant to the media and other drivers, but with you, he’s surprisingly patient. He lets you tease him, roll your eyes at his intensity, and tell him when he's being a "typical Max."
Childhood best friend!Max who is incredibly possessive of your time. He has a schedule that is planned down to the second, but he will move mountains to make sure a window of time is cleared just so he can grab dinner with you or just sit in silence in the same room.
Childhood best friend!Max who uses you as his "emotional anchor." The F1 world is loud, chaotic, and full of people wanting something from him. You are the only person who wants nothing from him but his company, and that makes you the most precious thing in his life.
Childhood best friend!Max who is surprisingly observant of your moods through his "driver's eye." He can read a person's body language in a split second on the track, and he uses that same skill on you. He knows the exact moment your smile becomes "fake" and will quietly pull you away from a social situation before you even realize you're overwhelmed.
Childhood best friend!Max who shows love through "acts of protection." If he thinks a driver is being too loud or a reporter is asking you too many personal questions, he’ll step in with a sharp, intimidating look that says "Back off, she's mine," even if he hasn't officially claimed you yet.
Childhood best friend!Max who is a total "homebody" when it's just the two of you. He doesn't want the glitz of Monaco or the parties in Singapore; he wants to be in a quiet apartment, playing sim racing or watching a movie, with your feet tucked under his legs.
Childhood best friend!Max who gets incredibly competitive about your successes. If you win an award or hit a milestone in your career, he treats it with the same ferocity as a Grand Prix win. He’ll be the one bragging about you to everyone, making sure they know exactly how brilliant you are.
Childhood best friend!Max who has a very "low key" way of being affectionate. He isn't big on public displays of affection, but he’ll always find a way to touch you a hand on the small of your back as you walk, or his knee brushing yours under a table. It’s his silent way of staying connected.
Childhood best friend!Max who is actually a massive softie for you in private. He might have a reputation for being a "stone cold winner," but you've seen him vulnerable the way he leans his forehead against yours when he's exhausted, or how he lets you see the doubt he hides from the rest of the world.
Childhood best friend!Max whose confession is not a soft, poetic moment; it’s a moment of pure, stubborn truth. It happens after a high-tension race where he’s been on edge all weekend. You’re trying to give him space, but he’s practically vibrating with the need to be near you. When you finally try to leave his room, he catches your wrist, his grip firm and grounding. He looks at you with that piercing, blue gaze, looking more frustrated than he does after a bad pit stop. "Why are you doing this?" he demands, his voice low and rough. When you ask what he means, he scoffs, a dry, breathless sound. "The distance. The 'just friends' thing. It's driving me insane, Y/N. I've spent my whole life winning everything else, but if you're not mine, it feels like I'm still losing." He doesn't wait for a response; he pulls you in by the waist, his kiss hard, commanding, and possessive, as if he’s finally claiming the one prize he’s wanted since he was a boy.
3 TIMES YOUR SIBLINGS ALMOST CATCH YOU AND POLY!JANCY + WHEN YOU TELL THEM THE TRUTH
nancy wheeler x sinclair!reader x jonathan byers ( aka poly!jancy x reader )
all the times you three almost get caught sneaking around + finally breaking the news to your shithead little siblings ( 3.0 k )
a/n: oKAY i know i said send in your steddie asks and you guys did but ive been plagued with poly!jancy x reader 😭 theyre too cute i love them so much
tags: heavy making out, lovebites, weed mention, will gets anxious n angry, backgroud steddie, emotional support steddie, cursing, not proofread, cheating accusations but no actual cheating, everyone is bisexual
Nancy’s kissing drives you crazy, her hands wrapped around your waist as she holds you flush to her body. You’re biting and sucking all over her jaw, pulling the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard out of her pink lips.
Jonathan’s right behind you, kissing up your bare neck and sandwiching the three of you together. He turns your head towards him to slip his tongue into your mouth, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. You’re all a mix of spit and Nancy groans at the sight of the two of you putting on a show for her as Jonathan sucks on your tongue. She loosens her grip on your waist to fall back slightly, letting her body hit your wall and her hand anchoring herself on your desk.
Your makeup bag goes flying off of your desk as Nancy tries to hold herself upright and you all watch it fall to the ground with a deafening smack. You pray to god that your eyeshadow palette is okay. A string of spit still connects you and Jonathan as you both turn to look at Nancy.
“Shit,” she whispers wide-eyed as your brother yells, “What was that?”, from the other room. Jonathan pulls away from you before wiping your mouth with a big hand, tucking himself into your closet as Nancy follows quickly behind. She mouths a sorry before disappearing behind your collection of blouses. The closet door slides shut just as your bedroom door opens, hitting the opposite wall with a bang.
You wince as Lucas steps into the room, peering around to look for evidence of another person. You move back as he steps forward to kick Jonathan's bag under your bed with the heel of your foot. He’s completely unashamed as he peers at your bed and your desk, his eyes finding the makeup bag on the floor. “Hm.” he says.
“Get out, Lucas.” you sigh. Your younger brother looks at you strangely, eyes narrowed as he speaks. “There’s someone in here.” he states plainly. You flop down onto the bed, staring at your peeling ceiling stickers. “Nope, just me and a couple of dustbunnies. Now can you get out?”
He points a finger at your mussed ponytail. “You have makeout hair.”
You sit up from where you’re slumped onto the bed, nose scrunched. “Ew, dude. Why do you even know what makeout hair looks like? You’re like, 8 years old.”
“I have a girlfriend, you know.” he states matter-of-factly, arms strong from basketball practice crossed over his widening chest.
He looks so proud of the fact that you can’t help but smile. “Enlightening. I’m so happy for you.” You avoid all eye-contact with the closet door, throwing a decorative pillow at his head. “Now get the hell out.”
“Who is it?” Lucas asks, carefully inspecting your stack of books like he’d find a grown man hidden in between the pages of Slaughterhouse-Five, “Is it that guy from your work, Derek?” He pauses for a second before spinning around the room, hands cupped over his mouth. “Derek? Hellooo, Derek? Can you hear me?”
You hit him over the head in an effort to get him to shut up. “You really are 8 years old, stupid!” you yell. He rubs his head with a little sniff. “Even if it was Derek,” you continue, “I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Ok.” he shrugs, “I’ll just guess then. Not Derek, maybe Steve Harrington.” It’s mortifying how he pauses to look you up and down. “Hey, don’t you like girls too? Let’s add Robin to the list-” You give his thick curls a sharp tug that has his scalp burning as he screams.
“Get off me! Get the fuck off!” he screams as you pull harder, dragging him towards the exit. Despite the inches he’s grown over you, Lucas is still the little kid you’d push off the couch. “You’re so annoying, I was just kidding! Jesus!” he whines, patting his hair back into place.
Using your other hand, you maneuver him back out into the hallway “Goodbye, Lucas.” you say drily, slamming the door in his face. With an ear to your door, you wait for his grumbling to return to his room before sliding open the closet.
Jonathan’s back is crushing your array crop-tops as Nancy puts all her weight on top of him, sucking hickeys into the side of his neck with his hand in her curls. He’s biting the back of his hand to muffle himself as Nancy licks over his pulse point.
“Fuck, baby, you’re back.” he grits out happily.
Nancy presses a final kiss to his adams apple before turning to you. “Who the hell is Derek?”
You close the door in both of their faces.
-
Mike’s complaining to Nancy about something she’s half paying attention to before he snaps her out of her trance.
“-but I don’t think Dustin was right, like, at all. Eddie was 100% right but Dustin’s just got a funny schedule- hey, since when did you listen to Led Zeppelin?”
He curiously holds up a tape in his hand, inspecting Physical Graffiti. It’s your tape, but technically also Jonathans, considering you split the price when you bought it last week in Indianapolis. Nancy remembers that she told Mike she had spent the weekend at Robins. You and Jonathan affectionately call the tape, “our baby.” Nancy’s still smiling at the memory when Mike waves it under her nose.
“Hello? Earth to Nance. Are you turning into a hard rocker or something?” he jokes. Nancy has an expression on her face that Mike’s never seen before as she turns to him, tight lipped.
“It’s Y/N’s.” she says finally. Her face almost drops. Shit, she thinks.
Mike balks. “Y/N? Like Y/N Sinclair? Lucas’ sister?”
Nancy groans internally, trying to keep an easy expression on her face. “Yeah, that Y/N. We met at Eddie’s party a couple of months ago. She’s-” Beautiful? The funniest girl Nancy knows? A great kisser? “Cool. She’s cool.” Nancy finally settles on.
It pains her to dismiss you as just cool. Nancy wants to tell Mike all about how you looked last week dancing in her bedroom, about how your face lights up when you see her. Nancy keeps quiet instead, smoothing down the front of her blouse as she looks back at Mike.
“She left her tape at Eddie’s. He gave it to me to give back to her ‘cause we work near each other.” she explains quickly.
Mike looks at her sceptically. He knows she’s hiding something, he just doesn’t know what. “Okay?” he responds, handing her back the tape. He taps the tracklist at the back of the tape. “Have you listened to Down by the Seaside?” he asks curiously. Nancy’s flooded with memories of you humming the chorus with her head in your lap and Jonathan by her side.
“Yeah,” she turns to Mike with a funny smile, “I sure have.”
-
Will always knocks before entering. It’s just common courtesy, really. He trusts that Jonathan wouldn’t let him in if he wasn’t doing anything Wil wouldn’t be allowed to see, which is why he squeezes his eyes shut when Jonathan tells him to come in.
You’re sprawled out on his bed, joint in your hand with Jonathan's arm slung over your shoulder as you giggle. Will’s breath hitches when he realises your faces are a hairs width apart. It feels illegal, seeing his older brother curled up with another girl that isn’t Nancy, and Will can feel his pulse quickening. Mike is going to hate him and Lucas forever if he finds out that Jonathan is cheating on his sister with Y/N Sinclair.
“Hi, Will.” you smile softly. Too nice for someone just caught homewrecking, he thinks.
Jonathan clears his throat, putting some distance between the two of you but not removing his arm. He looks surprised despite being the one who told Will to enter. Will swallows thickly when he sees a dark purple lovebite stamped on Jonathan's neck. “Hey, bud,” Jonathan says, his voice strained.
Boys and girls can be friends, he thinks. In Will’s opinion, it’s rude and misogynistic to think otherwise. You and Jonathan are probably just friends. He’s not cheating on Will’s best friend's older sister with his other best friend’s older sister. He repeats it in his head like a mantra, but the whole theory goes to shit when he notices you’re wearing Jonathan's shirt.
Well, shit.
“This is Y/N.” Jonathan introduces. Will just nods. “I know,” he replies plainly. His older brother frowns. Will doesn’t mean to be rude, but he’s not sure how else he should react. Does he go and tell Mike? No, what if he’s not sure that Jonathan's cheating, and then everyone gets angry at him?
“What’s up?”
Will looks down at his feet, averting all eye contact with either of you. Plausible deniability. “I was just wondering if you were still taking me to the movies later.” he says quickly. Jonathan opens his mouth but Will interrupts him. “It’s okay though, I can get Steve to drive me.” he walks back towards the door, “I-I have to go.” he mumbles, before breaking into a sprint and down the hallway.
“Shit,” Jonathan curses, giving your lips a quick peck before jogging down the hallway to catch up with his frantic brother.
Will is standing over the family phone, fingers twitching towards the dial pad. Jonathan grabs him by his shoulders. “Will, are you okay?” he asks concerned, “What’s up with you, man?”
Will’s the angriest Jonathan’s seen in a while, and he backs away from the younger boy, hands raised in surrender. “What’s up with me? What’s up with you?” he jabs a finger into Jonathan’s chest, whisper-shouting, “You’re cheating on Nancy!”
Jonathan sighs. He knew he would have to explain it to Will one day, just not when he’s stoned. “I am not cheating on Nancy, Will-”
“Y/N’s wearing your shirt!” Will half-shouts.
“Bud-”
“She was under the covers. You’re in your underwear!" Will explains.
Jonathan looks down and groans at the sight of his plaid boxers. He’s not cheating on Nancy with you, but if he was, it’s pretty damning evidence.
“It’s not like that, Will, you don’t understand.” he pleads.
Will shakes his head adamantly. “What I don’t understand is how you could do that to her!”
“Are you going to tell Mike? Or Lucas?” Jonathan asks quietly.
Even Will knows he wouldn’t do that. He cares too much about Jonathan to spill a big secret that would get everyone turned against him. He puts his shaking hands in his pockets. “No,” he says, “b-but, I’m going to tell mom!” he yelps, rushing out through the kitchen back door and onto the street. Jonathan groans.
Your boyfriend returns to you sobered up and shaking. You press the still-lit joint back into his hands.
“Did you hear?” he asks hoarsely after a minute, blowing o’s into the afternoon air.
You nod wordlessly. “Y’okay, baby?”
“I’ll be fine. I know my mom won’t care, but she’ll want me to tell Will.” he groans into his hands as you rub his back.
You kiss his temple. “We should probably call Nancy.”
-
The air is tense in the Wheeler living room. Mike is surprised to see Steve and Eddie standing by the couch with you. You’re all muttering quietly (Mike didn’t even know Eddie could do anything quietly) and Steve has a comforting hand on your shoulder. Eddie nudges you when the three teenagers enter, and Steve gives you a quick hug. “You’re a fuckin’ rockstar, babe. You got this.” Mike can hear Eddie tell you.
He points at the boyfriends. “Why’re you two in my house?”
Eddie rolls his eyes while Steve explains, “Mediation, dingus. Go sit your butt down.”
Why is everyone acting so weird today? First, Nancy pulls him out of his room for a ‘meeting’, then Will and Lucas arrive looking stony faced and confused respectively and now you’re here with Steve and Eddie.
Will looks flighty as he sits down on the couch. Lucas takes the other side of the couch and turns to Mike? What the fuck?, he mouths. Mike shrugs in return. They both turn to Will, who looks at neither of them, opting to stare at the floor instead. Super weird.
Nancy and Jonathan enter, carrying three chairs from the dining room table. You sit in the middle, flocked by the couple with Steve and Eddie sat behind.
“Okay,” you start after a long pause, “you’re all probably wondering why we’re here.”
“Does it have to do with why Will looks like he’s going to keel over and die?” Lucas asks from the couch. You roll your eyes at him.
“No,” you continue, “It’s because we have something we need to tell you guys.” You nod to Nancy.
“You’ve all probably thought we’ve been acting…weird lately.” she starts tentatively, “And we don’t know what Will told you, but he saw…something yesterday. So, we feel that as your older siblings, we need to tell you what’s going on between us.”
Jonathan looks to the both of you and swallows. “We’re dating,” he finally says. You all hold your breath waiting for anything- a pin drop, a yell.
Eddie gasps and Steve hits him. “You already knew that, stupid.”
“Sorry, it’s just, like, the anticipation.”
“Oh my fucking God.”
Mike tilts his head, confused. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “we know you and Nance are dating.”
“Why are you here?” Lucas points at you. You shoot him a look that says, shut up and listen.
“Not for long.” Will mutters darkly. Jonathan sighs.
“Alright,” Steve yells, “shut up!” The younger teens quieten immediately. Steve probably has more control over Lucas than your mom, you think.
Your boyfriend shakes his head, indicating to you and Nancy. “No, guys, listen. We’re ALL dating.”
“I still don’t get it.” Mike says.
“Can you let them talk-?” Lucas chimes in.
“Nancy and Jonathan are dating each other,” you explain slowly, “but they’re also dating me.”
Mike does the math in his head, muttering, “Dating Nance and Jonathan… but Nance and Jonathan are also dating- what the fuck?” The couch erupts into shouts once the puzzle pieces finally click together.
Lucas’ hands fly over his mouth, jumping on top of the couch in his converse (much to Nancy’s dismay) to point an accusatory finger at your throuple. “I knew it! I fucking knew it!” he laughs.
“No you didn’t, stupid, you thought I was dating Steve!” you yell back. Eddie bursts out laughing from behind you as Steve guffawes. “What!” You sink further into your seat.
“Are you okay?” Nancy asks Mike gently.
“I didn't even know you swung that way.” Mike shrugs and Nancy winces, “But I'm fine. If you’re happy, then I don’t really care.” It’s a clear cut and obvious explanation; the Wheeler way.
Mike and Lucas are still gushing about it when you all turn to Will, his eyes glued to his lap. “I thought you were cheating on Nance.” he says quietly, “Sorry I jumped to conclusions. I didn’t- I wouldn’t have told mom.” he says earnestly.
Jonathan puts a hand on Will’s shoulder. “I’m not mad, buddy, I get why you were angry. I should’ve said something earlier.” he says sadly.
Lucas points at the boyfriends still giggling behind the three of you. “Wait, so you two knew this whole time?”
“And Robin too,” Steve reminds him.
Eddie’s brash reply comes instantly, “They all got together at my house. I think it would be weird if I didn’t.”
“Gross, Eddie.” the Wheeler siblings say in unison.
“Okay,” Jonathan says after the chatter dies down, “does anyone have anything they’d like to say?”
“Are you three in love?” Lucas asks plainly.
It catches you off guard, and you find yourself staring at Nancy, and then Jonathan. You’re flooded by memories: a road trip up to Indianapolis, Nancy sticking her head out the window as you drive. Holding Jonathan’s hand at the park, looking for the final piece of his photography portfolio. You smile, wide and proud.
Mike nudges your brother with his shoulder. “No shit they’re in love.” He rolls his eyes like it’s the most obvious thing on planet earth.
Nancy nudges your foot with hers and Jonathan puts a comforting hand on your knee. Your heart swells and you know your answer now.
nancy wheeler x reader x jonathan byers ( aka poly!jancy x reader)
while preparing nancy's surprise birthday breakfast with jonathan, you cut your hand on a broken glass. your birthday girl saves the day . . . ( 1.5 k )
a/n: i love them so much i thought this fic was so cute. jonathans a little anxious in this one but he has the spirit. also lowkey the way they're talking her through it??? hot. ( divider by @cafekitsune )
tags: hurt/comfort, angsty-ish with a fluff ending, descriptions of injuries, pain and blood, not sure how accurate nancy's fixing of r hands is, reader is kinda implied to be scared of blood, jancy is so cute here i love them so much
You’re slicing fresh strawberries as Jonathan next behind you, assembling a stack of fluffy pancakes onto one of Nancy’s favourite plates.
It’s the first of Nancy’s birthday you’re celebrating together since you added to their already loving relationship, and she’s always gone above and beyond to make you and Jonathan’s day, so you decided to treat your doting girlfriend, tip-toeing out of bed at the crack of dawn to cook a breakfast-in-bed. You’re already finishing up the rest of your preparation when it all goes to shit.
“Hey, baby,” Jonathan asks you, bumping you gently with his hip, “Can you grab a glass for me?”
You set the knife down on the chopping board, dusting your hands on Nancy’s apron before offering your boyfriend a slice of fresh fruit from in between your sticky fingers. “Taste this first for me?” you ask, bring your hand to his lips.
He gently holds your wrist to guide the strawberry into his mouth, teeth gently grazing your fingertips. “‘S good,” he praises through a mouthful of fruit. Your hand reaches down his wrist to pull him close to your body, your arms coming around his neck. You tip-toe to reach his face, kissing all over his cheeks and lips as he giggles. Jonathan’s lips find yours and you can taste strawberry and sugar on his mouth.
“Baby,” he murmurs with a peck to the side of your mouth, “I still need that glass.”
You press one more kiss to his lips with a lighthearted giggle, “‘Kay,”
There’s a comfortable silence as you work around each other: Jonathan assembling the rest of the pancakes with your strawberries as you search for an appropriate glass in your cupboards. You find one of Nancy’s favourites, a pretty cup with flowers around the base. You’re about to set it down on the clean counter when it slips from your grip. The world seems to move in slow motion as you try to catch it one-handed, watching the cup shatter into pretty shards shimmering in the morning light over your hand.
You blink as you come back from your daze, registering the feeling of Jonathan pulling you away from the mess on the floor and rivulets of blood running down your fingertips.
“Holy shit, Y/N,” he breathes out, eyes wide as he checks your hand for injuries, finding the jagged gash lying in the middle of your hand. When his hand meets yours, the shock finally wears off and the pain comes to the forefront, your hand on fire as a choked out sob leaves your mouth.
“Don’t look, baby,” he instructs you firmly, guiding you quickly into the bathroom with his hand holding your uninjured one tight. Fat tears roll down your cheeks as your breaths become more shallow, your pulse racing.
You sit down with shaky legs on the edge of the tub, your arm elevated resting on the sink. When you look at Jonathan, he looks like he might burst into tears too. “I have to clean the cut now, okay?” he says quickly, keeping his voice as steady as possible so he doesn’t panic you further, “It’s going to sting a little, honey.”
Your boyfriend gnaws nervously on his bottom lip as he turns on the tap, slowly bringing your bloodied hand under the rush of water. The pain is hot and instantaneous, and more tears leave your eyes as you kick your feet against the rug to minimize the sting. You let out a pained shriek as your tears come fast, Jonathan’s heart breaking as he crouches in front of you.
He brushes the hair out of your eyes and behind your ear, his hand stroking the back of your head as he talks quietly to you. “I know, baby, I know,” Jonathan says sympathetically, keeping his gaze away from the bloody mess in the sink, “It’ll be over soon, okay? You’re okay, baby.”
When you look up from your lap, Nancy’s stood in the doorway, her mouth open and her eyes wide. Your lip trembles and waves of embarrassment rush over you as you cry even harder. Today was supposed to be fucking perfect.
Jonathan looks over his shoulder, his eyes practically pleading.
She jumps into action immediately, looking as fierce as ever in her creased pink pajama set. Nancy shuffles behind Jonathan and over to you, peering over to look at the sink and wrinkling her nose at the metallic tang of blood. “Okay,” she breathes out, then again, firmer this time, “okay. Jonathan, can you please go grab my first-aid kit from underneath the bed? It’s next to the pink memory box.”
Jonathan nods quickly, tilting your head back down to look at him. “I’ll be back,” he says with a peck to your forehead before dashing down the hallway.
Nancy replaces Jonathan’s spot, kneeling in front of you while you shy away behind a veil of your hair. “What happened, honey?” she tsks, rubbing soothing circles into your bare knee.
You swallow in a lungful of air, wiping your nose on your sweater as you sigh. “We were-” you sniffle, “we were making you breakfast, for your birthday and it was going so well but I dropped your glass and it broke in my hand and now I’ve fucked everything up.” Your tears start to fall again and Nancy frowns, lifting up the bottom of your shirt to dry your face. It’s such a sweet gesture that you feel like crying again.
“You made me breakfast?”
Your hand throbs while you answer. “Yeah, we made you pancakes and everything. Fuck- Nance, I’m so sorry.”
Nancy lets out a little faux gasp, her face splitting into a smile as she tries to make you laugh. “You and Jonathan know how to use the kitchen?”
You let out a watery laugh that has Nancy’s whole body un-tensing as she kisses your cheek. “Oh my sweet girl, it’s okay.” she murmurs kindly, using her thumb to wipe under your blotchy eyes, “Your gift to me can be not worrying? Okay? You didn’t fuck up anything, baby, I just want you to be okay.”
“Okay,” you nod quietly and she beams.
Jonathan returns with the first-aid kit, setting the bag down on the counter as leans down to give Nancy a quick kiss. “Hi, birthday girl,” he greets, letting Nancy stand up as she unzips the kit, “how’s our girl doing?”
Nancy pulls out a tube of ointment and a large gauze pad along with a bandage roll. “She’s okay, she’s calmed down now.” she tells him, “No more tears, right, honey?”
You nod solemnly as Jonathan beams at you. “Still hurts?”
“Yeah, just a little now. Not as much as before.”
He frowns deeply at the memory of you shrieking as the cold water cleaned your wound. He definitely needs to have a look at the integrity of all the glasses in the kitchen now. “That’s great, baby.”
Nancy turns off the tap and gently pats your hand down with a towel. There’s no more blood running from the wound as she dabs ointment on your cut, wincing when you hiss at the sting. She moves quickly as lays a gauze pad on top of your wound, before securing the piece of cotton with a large bandage that wraps around your hand. “Ta-da!” she exclaims.
“Thank you,” you murmur as Nancy kisses your covered palm, pressing your lips against hers, “Happy birthday, baby, I love you.” You embrace her, breathing in vanilla and floral body spray as her delicate hands meet your waist.
“Thank you, Y/N,” she hums, curly hair tickling the side of your face.
Jonathan’s standing back in the doorway- you’re not really sure when he left -with the stack of pancakes you had previously prepared, now topped with candles and whipped cream. One of his mugs sits in the corner of the tray filled to the brim with sweet orange juice. It reads “WORLD'S BEST BROTHER!” on it in child-like handwriting. A gift from Will, you think. There’s a collection of cards next to the plate from the Wheeler family, you and Jonathan, and all Nancy’s friends.
She spins around as Jonathan clears his throat, a little gasp leaving her throat that has your heart soaring. “Oh my god!” she exclaims, her manicured fingers pressed to her lips in delight. She’s donning birthday nails that you paid for. “You guys really did cook!”
Jonathan lets out a faux affronted scoff as Nancy beams. Tears brim in her green eyes as she looks between the two of you, pulling you both by the shoulders into a group hug. Your boyfriend is careful not to drop any of the food, lest there be any more accidents. A tear rolls down her cheek that you kiss away.
“Thank you both,” she sniffles, with a kiss to each of your faces.
You all stand in your shared bathroom, hearts full and beating steady, all full of an indescribable love for one another. Jonathan’s eyelashes kiss his cheek as he closes his eyes in content and Nancy’s temple knocks against your cheek as she tilts her head. You forget about the sharp pain in your hand as your body fills with a warm fuzzy feeling.
Nancy’s still sniffling as Jonathan pipes up, voice quiet as he murmurs, “I feel like I should be crying too.”
You all laugh so hard that Jonathan almost drops the tray.
Nancy's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your head down toward her chest as she leaned back against the pillows, her blue eyes dark with desire. "That's it, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice soft but commanding, laced with that gentle authority that made your core clench. "Suck on my nipple. Make me feel good while Robin takes care of you."
You obeyed, your lips parting to take her hardened peak into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tight bud as you hollowed your cheeks. Nancy arched into you, a low moan escaping her lips, her free hand cupping the back of your neck to hold you close. The taste of her skin—salty and warm—flooded your senses, and you felt Robin's presence behind you, her hands sliding up your thighs with deliberate slowness.
"Look at you, already so eager," Robin whispered, her breath hot against your ear as she pressed her body flush against your back. Her fingers traced the edge of your panties before hooking inside and tugging them down, exposing your ass and pussy to the cool air. "Nancy's tits are perfect, aren't they? But I bet your pussy's even sweeter. Spread your legs for me, baby. Let me see how wet you are."
Your thighs parted instinctively, a shiver running through you as Robin's hand cupped your mound, her palm grinding against your clit in slow circles. You whimpered around Nancy's nipple, the vibration drawing a gasp from her. Nancy's hand tightened in your hair, not pulling hard, but enough to remind you who was in control. "Good girl," she praised, her voice husky. "Keep sucking. Robin's going to finger you now—make you drip all over her hand."
Robin chuckled softly, her middle finger dipping between your folds to collect your slickness. She teased your entrance, circling it without pushing in, watching as your hips rocked back toward her. "Fuck, you're soaked," she said, her tone affectionate yet firm. "This pussy's begging for it. Tell us you want my fingers inside you."
"P-please," you managed, pulling off Nancy's breast just long enough to speak, your voice breathy and needy. Saliva glistened on Nancy's skin where your mouth had been, and she immediately guided you back, pinching her other nipple between her fingers to offer it up.
"Louder, sweetheart," Nancy coaxed, her thumb stroking your cheek. "We want to hear how much you need it."
"Please, Robin—finger me," you begged, the words tumbling out as you latched onto Nancy's other nipple, sucking harder this time, your teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.
Robin's response was immediate: two fingers slid into your pussy, stretching you with a slow, deliberate thrust. She curled them upward, stroking that spot inside you that made your walls flutter around her. "Like that?" she asked, her free hand gripping your hip to steady you as you bucked. "You're so tight, clenching on me already. Nancy, feel how she's squeezing—our girl's a natural."
Nancy hummed in approval, her hand leaving your hair to trail down her own body, fingers circling her clit as she watched Robin work you. "She is," Nancy agreed, her voice soft but edged with command. "But don't let her cum yet, Robin. I want to taste her first. Bring her up here."
Robin withdrew her fingers with a wet pop, making you whine at the loss, but she soothed you with a kiss to your shoulder. "Patience, baby. Nancy's mouth is worth the wait." She helped maneuver you onto the bed, positioning you on your back between them. Nancy shifted down, her hands pushing your knees apart as she settled between your legs, her breath fanning over your exposed pussy.
"So pretty," Nancy murmured, her eyes locked on your glistening folds. She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to lap at your clit in a single, teasing stroke. The sensation was electric, your hips jerking up, but Robin was there, her hands pinning your shoulders down gently.
"Stay still for her," Robin instructed, her voice a soft growl as she straddled your waist, her own panties damp against your stomach. She leaned forward, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, her tongue mimicking what Nancy was doing below. You moaned into her mouth, tasting the faint hint of toothpaste and her unique flavor, your hands roaming up to squeeze her breasts through her shirt.
Nancy's mouth sealed over your pussy then, sucking your clit between her lips with gentle pressure, her tongue swirling in tight circles. She hummed against you, the vibration shooting straight to your core, and you broke the kiss with robin to cry out. "Nancy- oh god, you're tongue-"
"Shh, just feel it," Nancy said, pulling back briefly, her chin slick with your arousal. She dove back in, her tongue thrusting into your entrance, fucking you shallowly while her fingers spread your lips wider. Robin took the opportunity to strip off her shirt, her breasts free, nipples hard and begging for attention.
"Suck on these now," Robin said, guiding one breast to your mouth as she ground her hips down, her clothed pussy rubbing against your abdomen. You latched on eagerly, tongue laving over her nipple, teeth nipping lightly as she moaned above you. Her hand reached back, joining Nancy's between your legs—Nancy's tongue still buried inside you while Robin's fingers teased your entrance alongside it.
The dual assault had you writhing, your body arching off the bed. Nancy pulled her tongue free, replacing it with her own two fingers, thrusting in rhythm with Robin's teasing probes. "You're taking us so well," Nancy praised, her free hand kneading your thigh. "Gonna make you cum on my fingers while you play with Robin's tits."
Robin nodded, her breath hitching as you sucked harder, your hand pinching her other nipple. "Yeah, cum for Nancy—then it's my turn to fuck you with my mouth."
The pressure built fast, Nancy's fingers curling deep, hitting that spot relentlessly while her thumb rubbed your clit. Robin's grinding added friction, her wetness seeping through her panties onto your skin. You shattered with a muffled cry against Robin's breast, your pussy spasming around Nancy's fingers, gushing slickness that she lapped up greedily.
"That's our girl," Robin cooed, lifting your chin for a kiss as Nancy worked you through the aftershocks, her fingers slowing but not stopping. "One down—now switch with me, Nance. I want to feel her tongue on my pussy."
Nancy withdrew, licking her fingers clean with a satisfied hum before crawling up to take Robin's place. She kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on her tongue, while Robin stripped off her panties and straddled your face, her pussy hovering just above your mouth. Her folds were pink and swollen, arousal dripping down her thighs.
"Lick me, baby," Robin instructed softly, lowering herself until your tongue could reach. "Just like that—flat and wide, cover all of me."
You did, dragging your tongue through her slit, savoring the tangy sweetness of her. Robin rocked against your face, her hands bracing on the headboard as she moaned. "Fuck, yes—your mouth feels amazing. Deeper, use your tongue to fuck me."
Nancy watched for a moment, her hand sliding between her own legs to rub her clit, but then she turned her attention to your body. Her mouth latched onto your breast, sucking the nipple hard while her fingers trailed down to your still-sensitive pussy. She inserted two fingers again, scissoring them to stretch you, her thumb pressing against your clit in firm circles.
"Keep eating her out," Nancy murmured against your skin, her teeth grazing your nipple before soothing it with her tongue. "Make Robin cum on your face while I finger this pretty pussy."
The command spurred you on; you thrust your tongue into Robin's entrance, feeling her walls clench around it as she ground down harder. Your nose bumped her clit, and she reached down to hold your head steady, her thighs trembling. "Right there—oh shit, you're gonna make me—"
Nancy added a third finger to your pussy, the stretch burning sweetly, and pinched your other nipple between her fingers, rolling it roughly. The overstimulation from your recent orgasm made everything sharper, your body coiling tight again as Robin's juices coated your chin.
Robin came with a shuddering cry, her pussy pulsing against your tongue, flooding your mouth with her release. You swallowed what you could, lapping eagerly as she rode out the waves, her soft dom facade cracking into breathless praises. "Good job, baby—so fucking good."
She lifted off you carefully, turning to kiss Nancy over your body, their tongues tangling in a heated display that made your core ache anew. Then Robin slid down, her mouth replacing Nancy's fingers at your pussy. "My turn to taste you properly," she said, her tongue plunging into you without preamble, fucking deep and fast.
Nancy shifted, straddling your chest now, her pussy grinding against your sternum as she leaned forward to kiss Robin. "Eat her out like you mean it," Nancy ordered softly, her hand reaching back to spread your folds for Robin. "I want her screaming."
Robin's tongue worked miracles—thrusting, swirling, sucking your clit into her mouth with wet, obscene sounds. She added her fingers too, three now, pumping in time with her licks, while her other hand teased your ass, a finger circling the tight ring before pressing in gently.
"Relax for me," Robin murmured against your thigh, her finger breaching your ass shallowly, the dual penetration making you gasp. "Feels good, doesn't it? Filled in both holes."
Nancy nodded, her own arousal smearing across your skin as she humped your chest. "It does—look at her face, she's loving it. Pinch her nipples, Robin. Make her cum hard."
Robin complied, her free hand tweaking your breasts, pulling on the nipples until they throbbed. The sensations overwhelmed you: Robin's tongue on your clit, fingers in your pussy and ass, Nancy's weight and heat above. Your second orgasm ripped through you, stronger than the first, your body convulsing as you cried out, pussy and ass clenching around Robin's intrusions.
They didn't let up, Robin licking you through it while Nancy ground harder, chasing her own release on your body. "Fuck, that's hot," Nancy gasped, her fingers digging into your shoulders as she came, her wetness soaking your skin.
Panting, they both moved to either side of you, hands roaming your body in soothing strokes. But the night was far from over. Nancy kissed your neck, her hand cupping your breast. "Think you can handle more? We want to make you cum again—together this time."
You nodded weakly, and Robin grinned, positioning herself between your legs once more while Nancy knelt beside your head. Robin's mouth returned to your pussy, softer now, lapping at your oversensitive folds, while Nancy offered her breast again. "Suck while she fingers you," Nancy said, guiding you.
Robin's fingers—two in your pussy, one in your ass—thrust steadily, her tongue flicking your clit in lazy patterns. Nancy's hand joined, pinching your free nipple, and soon you were building toward a third peak, the pleasure drawn out and intense.
"Cum for us, sweetheart," Nancy whispered, her lips brushing your ear. "Show us how much you love this."
With a final curl of Robin's fingers and a suck on your clit, you tumbled over, sobbing their names as waves of ecstasy crashed through you. They held you through it, kisses peppering your skin, until you were limp and sated.
"Our perfect girl," Robin murmured, curling against your side.
Nancy nodded, pulling you into her arms. "Rest now—but we're not done with you yet." Her hand trailed down teasingly, promising more rounds of their soft, commanding touch.
context. a cozy day off between sabrina and you: kissing, making love, eating, movie marathon's, everything...
contents. fem!reader, making out, heavy smut, strap!usage, oral r!receiving, fingering s!receiving, strap r!receiving, p in v, sappy lesbians, sabrina and reader are literally the cutest ever
track. father figure - george michael
sabrina and you lay curled up under the sheets, the soft light of morning slowly filling the room.
your limbs were intertwined, your bodies fitting together like the last two pieces of a puzzle. her touch was gentle as her hand roamed over your skin, leaving behind tiny sparks everywhere she touched.
after a silent moment, sabrina shifted. she moved closer till her body was fully pressed against yours. her face buried in the crook of your neck, her breath hot against your skin.
you felt her lips brush softly over a sensitive spot, leaving behind a trail of goose flesh in their wake. a shudder ran through you, and your grip on her tightened.
“goodmorning to you too baby,” you rasped as your hands got lost into sabrina’s golden locks, leaning your head back into the soft pillow to give sabrina more access to the expanse of your hot skin.
sabrina hummed against your skin, the vibration making your breath hitch. her fingers trailed lazy patterns down your side before gripping your waist possessively.
"mm, morning," she murmured between kisses, "couldn't wait to touch you." her voice was thick with sleep, sending shivers down your spine as her teeth grazed your collarbone.
you arched into her, pressing your hips harder against hers as you tangled your fingers further in her hair, desperate to keep her close. her mouth traveled lower, her tongue teasing along the edge of your neck, making your breathing heavier with every passing second. just when you thought you couldn't bear anymore, she pulled back just enough to look up at you with hooded eyes, lips swollen and red, a smirk dancing across her face.
you whined softly at the beautiful sight in front of you and spread your legs instinctively to let sabrina slot in between your thighs, grabbing her neck and pulling her into kiss you.
sabrina let out a low groan against your lips as she settled between your thighs, her hips pressing down in a way that made your back arch off the bed. her tongue slid against yours hungrily, one hand gripping the pillow beside your head while the other traced burning paths along your side.
"fuck," she breathed when you bit her lower lip, "you're gonna ruin me like this." her voice was wrecked already, and she hadn't even properly started yet.
your body was electric, every nerve ending feeling oversensitive under her touch. you could feel the heat building up between the two of you, and you couldn't find it within yourself to care. you just wanted more. more of her skin against yours, more of her hands on you, more of her mouth, more of her.
"please," you whispered against her lips, nails digging into the skin of her back. you didn't even know what you were asking for, but she knew. she could read you like an open book.
with your desperate plea, sabrina began to roll her hips with expertise against your center.
sabrina let out a broken sound when she felt how soaked you were against her, grinding down with slow, torturous rolls of her hips. her lips crashed back onto yours, swallowing your whimpers as her fingers dug into your waist—like she was terrified you'd disappear if she didn't hold on tight enough.
"that’s it baby," she gasped between kisses, “let it out." her rhythm stuttered when you arched up against her, your bodies moving in a filthy, perfect sync that had her seeing stars.
sabrina’s breath hitched as your nails scraped down her back, her movements growing more desperate—less control, more need. her forehead dropped to yours, eyes screwed shut as she chased the friction between your bodies.
“can’t— fuck —can’t think when you’re like this,” she admitted, voice raw. her hips stuttered when you clenched around her, her name tumbling from your lips in a broken moan.
“f-fuck…” you moan out with desire, grabbing sabrina’s chin with your fingers and gliding the pad of your thumb across her lips before letting it sneak into her mouth, “look at me.”
sabrina’s eyes flew open at your command, her pupils blown wide as she sucked lazily on your thumb, tongue swirling around the tip before releasing it with a wet pop. her hips never stopped moving, each roll deliberate—achingly slow just to watch you unravel beneath her.
“there, you are," she breathed, voice wrecked as she held your gaze, her own desperation bleeding through. “wanna see you—every second of it." her fingers tightened on your hip, urging you closer, deeper—like she couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.
your stomach coiling in a tight, hot knot left you there helpless as your breasts began to shake with the rhythm of sabrina’s thrusts. “kiss me.”
sabrina obliged eagerly, her lips crashing into yours with a bruising intensity, devouring you, claiming you. her tongue pushed into your mouth roughly, demanding absolute submission as her thumb brushed over your bottom lip, coaxing your jaw to fall slack. she swallowed down every gasp and mewl that spilled from your lips, her teeth scraping over the sensitive skin of your neck, her nails biting into your thighs, marking you in all the right places.
her control was slipping, but your eyes kept snapping back to her face, watching every shift of expression.
“sab i need your tongue,” you pleaded as you looked down in between the two of you where her lower belly was glistened with your essence, growing hot all over at the sight.
sabrina’s gaze followed yours, her breathing labored. seeing the evidence of just how badly you wanted her, how wrecked you were for her, made her eyes flutter close briefly before opening again, dark and needy.
she leaned down, her mouth against your ear, voice a rough whisper, "then have it." she left a trail of open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat and your collarbone, moving further and further down, her destination clear.
your back arched off the bed, your fingers grabbing at the sheets beneath you in anticipation, when you suddenly realized something. your hand was in her hair, gripping it gently, and for some reason that realization just sent a shiver down your spine. you weren't just getting lost in this moment—in the sensations, in the pleasure, you were experiencing it. you were living it. the way she was moving down your body, the expression on her face, the way she looked up at you—everything was so real.
sabrina’s eye contact left you nervous and eager to see her ruin you completely. your mouth was open ready to let out any sound, anything. it was all for her.
sabrina drank in the sight of you like you were sustenance, her gaze hungry. her mouth hovered tantalizingly close to where you need her most, her breath hot against your skin, but she didn't move, not yet. she just waited, her eyes locked on yours, watching every tremble, every twitch, every desperate sound that slipped from between your parted lips.
you gave sabrina a small laugh as you held the back of her head gently and placed her tongue right where you needed it most. her warm, wet muscle bringing you to a sigh of relief.
sabrina moaned against you, the sound vibrating through your entire body as her tongue dragged slow, purposeful strokes that had your thighs trembling around her head. her grip on your hips tightened, keeping you exactly where she wanted you—trapped between her mouth and the mattress, completely at her mercy.
"fuck—love how you taste," she slurred against you, voice wrecked, before diving back in with reckless abandon, like she was starving for you.
and honestly? she was.
“oh god,” you moaned with a strangled tone, helping sabrina keep her hair out the way by making a makeshift ponytail of her blonde hair with your fist.
sabrina let out a muffled whimper against you, her hips grinding down into the mattress uselessly at the feeling of your fingers fisting her hair—guiding her, claiming her. her tongue worked faster, sloppier, her breathing ragged as she chased every shudder, every broken noise you made like it was her sole purpose.
“please,” she gasped when you tugged just right, her voice so wrecked it barely sounded like her anymore, “gonna —fuck— gonna make me lose it—”
“oh my god,” you yelped as the coil in your stomach snapped, “sabrina!”
sabrina groaned against you, riding out every last shudder of your climax with relentless devotion, her fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to leave marks. when you finally went boneless beneath her, she pressed a single, reverent kiss to your inner thigh before crawling back up your body—her lips swollen, her chin glistening, her entire body trembling with barely-restrained need.
“fuck,” she panted, collapsing half on top of you, her forehead pressed to yours, “you’re... you’re everything.”
“you really did your big one,” you smiled teasingly, holding the back of her head gently, “oh my god, i’m sorry baby.”
wiping off the remains of yourself off her lips and chin with your thumb.
sabrina groaned in protest, grabbing your wrist and bringing your thumb to her mouth, her tongue swirling around it lazily.
"don't apologize," she whispered huskily when she released your hand, her eyes darker than usual. her breath was still coming fast, and her voice was just this side of shaky, like she was still trying to get herself under control.
"that was... god, that was good." she nuzzled into the crook of your neck with a tired sigh, her weight settling comfortably on top of you.
you hummed in response as you trailed your fingers up and down sabrina’s hips, the tips of your fingers fixated on her beautiful stretch marks.
the sight making you grow eager.
“i love these so much…”
carefully removing yourself from sabrina and kissing her marks, letting your wet tongue trace in between each and every one.
“so fucking pretty baby…”
you were practically in a trance as you arched your back just to dwell deeper into sabrina’s skin, gripping for life on either hip as you would abuse the other one with your mouth.
sabrina choked out a strangled moan, her head falling back against the pillows as her body arched under your touch. her fingers tightened in your hair, her hips rolling shamelessly against your mouth—like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to escape or beg for more.
“shh shh my love,” you mumbled against sabrina’s skin, looking up at her with a smirk, “im here, im not going anywhere.”
sabrina let out an almost-broken sound, her grip on your hair loosening just enough to let her push herself up on her elbows. her chest was heaving, her cheeks rosy, her lips parted—she looked absolutely ruined. a sight you were responsible for.
"c'mere," she whispered, her voice still sounding wrecked—like just that short amount of time under your touch had her coming undone. her eyes were dark with need, but they softened as she reached out for you, "kiss me."
you obliged, crawling up her body and slotting your lips against hers, your hand cupping the side of her face tenderly. her skin was warm against your touch, her breath still hot and heavy. she melted under your ministrations almost instantly, a small whine slipping out between kisses—a sound that had you wanting to wreck her all over again.
her hands were running along the length of your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake, her touch leaving trails of fire across your skin. your body felt like it'd been set ablaze—and you loved every second of it.
you smiled mischievously into the kiss as you pulled back slightly, your lips hovering against sabrina’s.
“touch yourself.”
sabrina's breath hitched at your command, her eyes widening in surprise. but there was no hesitation in her movements, her body responding immediately—like she'd been waiting for this. her eyes flicked down to your lips for a second before meeting your gaze, and she nodded slightly as her hand trailed down her stomach, disappearing between her shaky thighs.
"is that what you want...?" sabrina's voice was low, and it sent a shiver down your spine.
you nodded with a smile at the beautiful, blonde before you. hearing the slickness between the two of you as sabrina’s fingers moved meticulously, on a mission.
you separated yourself from sabrina’s body quickly, sitting in front of her.
watching.
sabrina’s eyes raked over you as you sat back, taking in the view. her gaze lingered on your flushed cheeks, your heaving chest, like she was committing every last detail to memory. her hand worked faster, her breathing labored, her eyes never leaving yours.
"like what you're seeing?" she asked between gasps, her voice hoarse with need. a smirk played on her lips as she watched you watch her—like she knew exactly what she was doing to you.
“no talking baby,” you responded as you traced your fingers along sabrina’s ankle, still watching her.
sabrina’s jaw snapped shut immediately, her eyes widening just a bit, like your command had caught her off guard. but she obeyed without question, her fingers slowing down—almost reluctantly, like she was already missing that extra friction. her breath was still coming in ragged gasps, her cheeks flushed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth—but she stayed silent, her gaze locked on yours, waiting. submitting.
it was a calling to you. your fingers practically magnetized to sabrina’s center, your middle finger slowly easing in.
grabbing her hand that was previously touching herself and took her fingers in your mouth, moaning at her taste.
sabrina let out a strangled moan—like the sound was yanked from her against her will, despite all her efforts to keep quiet. her eyes flickered between your lips closing around her fingers, your hand between her thighs, the look on your face—like she couldn't decide what she wanted to watch most. her thighs shook softly, her hips shifting unconsciously against your touch, like she was fighting the urge to grind down against your hand for more.
"please," she gasped, her voice cracking with need, "please, please—"
her hand gripped your wrist tightly, like she was desperately clawing for something to ground her to reality. her eyes looked glazed, her cheeks flushed, her breathing unsteady. a part of her was holding back—trying to keep herself together—but she was rapidly reaching her breaking point. your touch was driving her insane.
"more—" she managed to gasp, her tone pleading, "i need... i need... i just need—"*
you added a second finger immediately and began to move around inside of her in circles while still hitting the gummy spot deep inside of her.
the filthy sound of her hole squelching around your fingers to keep you there.
sabrina’s entire body jerked violently, a strangled cry tearing from her throat as she arched off the bed—her thighs clamping around your wrist, her nails biting into your skin. she was trembling, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, her eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to process the overwhelming sensation.
“f-fuck—“her voice was wrecked, barely recognizable, “too—too much—” but she didn’t pull away. instead, her hips rolled weakly against your hand, chasing that dizzying pressure like she couldn’t help herself.
“you take this baby,” you moaned, gripping sabrina’s thigh and kissing her knee, “like a good girl.”
sabrina let out a soft, desperate whine when you called her that name, her hips bucking against your hand helplessly. her thighs trembled under your grip, her body taut with need—like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap at any second. she was getting close—so incredibly close—and you could feel it in the way her walls clenched around your fingers.
"yours..." she gasped out brokenly, “yours, all yours—" the words came out as a ragged plea, and it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard.
her hands were grasping desperately at the sheets, her eyes unfocused, her head tossed back against the pillows, her breathing erratic—she was teetering on the edge, holding back with every last ounce of self-control she had left.
sabrina looked wrecked—completely and utterly wrecked. and it was all thanks to you.
"please—please—" sabrina panted, her body trembling with the desperate need for release, “oh god—i can't—i can't hold on much longer—"please-“
“let go baby,” you moaned as your forearm began to grow with fire and twitch with every fiber of muscle inside.
“cream all over these fingers baby.”
sabrina’s whole body convulsed—a sharp, punched-out cry ripped from her throat as she shattered beneath you, her hips stuttering wildly against your hand. her thighs clamped around your wrist like a vice, her back arching off the bed as she rode out the waves of pleasure, her entire body trembling with the force of it.
when she finally collapsed back onto the mattress, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat, she looked up at you with hooded eyes—completely, utterly spent.
"fuck..." she breathed, her voice wrecked beyond recognition, "you—you’re insane..."
“i try my best,” you responded with a smile as you gave her knee one last gentle kiss, “be careful.”
slowly taking your cream coated fingers outside of sabrina.
sabrina's body involuntarily shivered when your touch left her, still sensitive from the aftershocks rippling through her. she managed a shaky nod, her eyes locked on the movement of your hand as her chest slowly rose and fell, her breathing almost back to normal.
"i don't think i'll be walking any time soon," she mumbled dryly, unable to stop the smirk creeping across her face, "you did a real number on me, you know.”
“thank goodness,” you replied, taking your fingers into your mouth and tasting every single bit of sabrina’s remnants, “i get to keep you here.”
sabrina groaned loudly, her head falling back against the pillows dramatically—but the way her breath hitched when she watched you taste her betrayed just how much that affected her.
"you're evil," she accused, but there was no bite to her words—just pure, breathless amusement. she reached out blindly, tugging you down against her chest with a tired sigh, “now stay. i'm not done with you yet."
~
sabrina was sprawled across the couch, half-draped over you like an overly affectionate golden retriever. her arms were wrapped around your waist, her face buried in your shoulder, her legs tangled with yours. she'd barely moved in the last hour—still blissed out and exhausted—but every now and then, she'd press a lazy kiss to your collarbone, just because she could.
"still think i'm the scary one?" she mumbled against your skin when a jumpscare flashed across the screen, her voice laced with amusement.
you didn’t respond.
you were long asleep with your eyes closed, still hugging sabrina close to you. twitching your eyebrows every now and then annoyed at the loud jump scares.
sabrina noticed your little twitches and immediately reached for the remote, muting the movie with a soft click. she shifted carefully, not wanting to wake you, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead.
"sleep, baby," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "i got you."
she kept one arm securely around you, her fingers tracing absent-minded patterns along your back as she watched the rest of the movie in silence—more focused on the steady rise and fall of your breathing than anything else.
when the final credits started to roll, sabrina carefully extricated herself from your hold, making sure to lift your head and place a pillow under it in her place.
she grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over you, tucking it snuggly around your shoulders before leaning back to admire her handiwork. she smiled to herself—you looked so peaceful, so damn adorable, she almost didn't want to leave.
almost.
ultimately, though, her growling stomach said otherwise.
sarcastically, you spoke, “was that you or the movie?”
sabrina froze mid-step toward the kitchen, her head whipping back to look at you with wide eyes—before a slow, mischievous grin spread across her face.
"oh, so you were awake," she teased, walking back over and leaning down to press her forehead against yours, "lying there all cute and shit, pretending to sleep while i was out here starving—"
her stomach growled again, louder this time, and she groaned dramatically, dropping her head onto your chest.
"traitor," she muttered, “absolute traitor."
you muffled a small laugh against sabrina’s golden locks and looked at her as she lifted her head off of your chest.
“god forbid i like to be babied and taken care of.”
kissing a small expanse of skin on her stomach where her shirt had ridden up.
sabrina huffed, her mock-hurt expression cracking into a fond smile when you kissed her stomach.
"you just like having someone else do everything for you, admit it you spoiled princess." she grabbed your chin in one hand, gently tugging your face up to look at her, "i oughta make you get the food yourself."
but the glint in her eyes gave her away, and she was already straightening back up, mumbling under her breath, "lucky you're cute."
“i’m gonna sit on your face bro,” you joked (kinda) as she praised you with affection and compliments.
sabrina paused halfway to the kitchen, slowly turning to face you with raised eyebrows—then broke into a grin, shaking her head.
"promise?" she shot back, voice dripping with playful sarcasm, "because last i checked, you were the one begging for my tongue earlier—"
she dodged the pillow you threw at her, cackling as she disappeared into the kitchen, her voice echoing behind her, "you love me! admit it!"
you stood up from the couch with a groan at your girlfriend’s remarks, making your way into the kitchen behind her as you hoisted yourself up onto the kitchen island as sabrina ransacked the pantry for food.
“please! please! right there!” you mocked, sounding all of sabrina’s moans from earlier.
sabrina spun around so fast she nearly dropped the bag of chips in her hands, her jaw dropping in mock outrage—but the blush creeping up her neck gave her away.
"oh, now you wanna act all tough?" she tossed the chips onto the counter and stalked toward you, her eyes glinting with mischief as she wedged herself between your thighs, "funny how quiet you got when my tongue was right where you wanted it—"
her hands settled on your hips, her thumbs tracing slow circles just above the waistband of your sweats.
"weird, huh?" she murmured, leaning in until her lips brushed your ear, “almost like you’re all talk.”
you squinted your eyes at your girlfriend’s mischievous tactics and tilted your head before straightening up.
“if you’re so desperate to fuck me against the counter just ask.”
“gosh…”
sabrina let out a surprised laugh—sharp and loud—before her expression shifted into something dangerously playful. her fingers tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against her as she leaned in, her lips grazing the shell of your ear.
"fine," she breathed, her voice dripping with shameless amusement, " i wanna fuck you against the counter. please.”
she punctuated the request with a sharp nip to your earlobe, her smirk audible in her tone.
"gosh," she mimicked, pulling back just enough to see your face, "was that so hard?"
“you think i’m joking,” i asked with a amused expression on my face, “i’m not.”
sabrina let out a mock gasp, looking up at you with exaggerated wide-eyed innocence.
"me, thinking you'rejoking? never."
but there was no mistaking the heat in her gaze, or the way her fingers tightened on your hips, pulling you closer against her. her eyes flicked down to your lips and then back up to yours, her pupils blown wide.
"got something else in mind, then?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low, teasing purr.
you pushed her off gently with a nudge of your knee to her stomach, “get the strap and we’ll see.”
it was fully serious. no teasing. no amusement. a dare almost.
sabrina's eyes widened at the command, her expression turning completely serious for a moment—and then a sly smile tugged at the corner of her lips. she took a slow step back, her gaze roaming over your face. she looked you up and down like a lion circling a gazelle, her eyes dark with hunger and... interest.
then she spun on her heel, disappearing into the bedroom. the mattress creaked faintly as she rummaged through the dresser. in less than a minute, she slipped back into the kitchen, the strap now in her hand.
by the time sabrina had made it back into the kitchen, you were already bent over the counter and scrolling on your phone nonchalantly.
nude.
sabrina froze in the doorway for a split second, her breath catching at the sight of you—posed effortlessly, like you hadn’t just turned her entire world upside down with a single command. she exhaled sharply through her nose, fingers tightening around the strap as she crossed the room in three quick strides.
"fuck," she muttered under her breath, her free hand immediately finding your hip, pressing you harder against the counter. “you’re insane—you know that, right?" her voice was low, rough at the edges—like she was barely holding herself together.
she leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she murmured, “you wanted this? then ask nicely.”
you set your phone down with a small chuckle, “i’ll just fuck myself if that’s the case,” tilting your head to turn a little to see her behind you already putting the strap on, “or not.”
locking eyes with her and offering her a bratty smile.
sabrina’s grip on your hip tightened, her other hand coming down to slap your ass—sharp enough to sting, but not hard enough to actually hurt. her breath hitched when you smirked at her, her gaze burning with a mix of frustration and sheer need.
"you’re unbelievable," she growled, leaning over your back, her lips brushing your shoulder, "but lucky for you, i’m in a generous mood today."
her hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against her as she nipped at your ear.
"beg."
when sabrina’s hand came in contact with your ass you initially moaned in surprise, but then chuckled afterwards as you turned your head to face the counter again.
“i guess ill do it myself.”
guiding your fingers in between your legs from behind.
sabrina let out a strangled noise—half frustration, half sheer disbelief—before her hand yanked your wrist away from where you were teasing yourself, pinning it to the small of your back instead. she leaned down, her breath hot against your ear, her voice shaking with barely restrained control.
"you think you’re funny?" she growled out, her free hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise, "try that again and i’ll leave you dripping with nothing to take the edge off."
her teeth scraped over your shoulder—warning, promise, threat—before she straightened up, rolling her hips against you just enough to remind you exactly who was in charge now.
"last chance," she murmured, "use your words."
“fuck me already carpenter,” you spoke, except this time it was almost like anger but not really at the same time. more like eagerness.
the second the words left your lips, sabrina’s grip tightened—and then she was moving, slamming into you with one rough thrust that punched a sharp moan from your throat. her breath came in ragged bursts against your neck, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate strokes—like she was savoring every second of your reaction.
“there,” she panted, her voice wrecked, “that what you wanted?”
her fingers dug into your skin, marking you, claiming you—like she couldn’t stand the thought of you forgetting who belonged to who.
(and if the way your legs shook was any indication? mission fucking accomplished.)
“jesus— fuck,” you moaned out immediately failing to hold yourself up, your chest falling to the cool counter as the side of your face did also. your hands still behind your back, sneaking them in front of yourself to hold yourself up.
sabrina leaned over you then, one hand planted firmly on the counter. the other slipping around your throat, tilting your head back so she could press her forehead against yours.
"you okay?" she murmured, her voice tinged with concern, her eyes raking over your face, just to reassure herself you were still here, still present. her grip on your throat loosened slightly, the touch more comforting than possessive.
“already going soft?” you moaned with a smile.
sabrina huffed out a low laugh against your cheek, nipping gently at your jawline.
"don't get cocky now," she whispered, her tone both warning and teasing in equal measure, “just because i care about you doesn't mean i’m not gonna break you."
she punctuated the words with a deliberate roll of her hips, her grip tightening just slightly around your throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to make sure you felt it when she breathed out, “mine."
“don’t stop baby,” you moaned against the granite tops, moving back against the rubber in between sabrina’s legs.
sabrina groaned against your neck, her hands gripping your hips tighter as she pulled you back against her with every thrust—her rhythm relentless, her breath hot on your skin. her teeth grazed your shoulder, her voice ragged and desperate.
"not planning on it," she panted, “not until you—fuck —not until you scream for me."
(and judging by the way your nails scraped against the countertop, she was dangerously close to getting exactly what she wanted.)
your hand flew behind you as you urged sabrina to slow down, the pleasure of the stretch and pounding overwhelming your body. moaning repeatedly over and over again.
sabrina’s hand clamped around your wrist, pinning it back against your spine—her other hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise as she leaned down, her lips brushing your ear.
“no,” she growled, her voice wrecked but firm, “you don’t get to slow down — take that shit baby.”
her thrusts turned sharper, deeper—chasing that spot inside you that had your vision whiting out, your moans turning into ragged, punched-out gasps. she was relentless, her own breathing uneven, her fingers digging into your skin like she was terrified you’d slip away if she didn’t hold on tight enough.
“mine,” she repeated, the word ragged, desperate—like she needed you to understand, “all fucking mine—”
sabrina was everywhere—her body pressed tightly against yours, her lips against your neck, her breath hot and desperate against your skin. her teeth sank into your shoulder like a brand, her fingers leaving marks on your hips, on your wrists—her possessive touch was everywhere, and you loved every second.
her voice was a low, guttural growl against your ear, like she was losing herself, unable to keep herself together.
"mine,” she repeated again, “say it. say it back—say you're mine.”
“y-yours mommy,” you cried out as the drilling in between in your legs made your breathing uncontrollable and body heat more, “i’m yours.”
sabrina's breath hitched at that, her hand on your back tightening, her thrusts faltering for just a moment.
"good girl," she panted, her voice rough and shaky, "god, you're so good for me, darling."
her lips traced soft patterns across your shoulders, tender and reverent, a stark contrast to the way her hips snapped against yours.
"say it again."
“need y-your—oh god— lips m-mommy,” you whined, cried, moaned, all of the above it was hard to tell.
turning your head weakly to search for sabrina’s lips as she pounded into your drenched hole.
sabrina obliged instantly, capturing your lips in a messy, desperate kiss—her tongue sliding against yours, her breath mingling with yours in ragged gasps. her thrusts never slowed, never faltered, even as she kissed you like she was starving for it.
"right here," she murmured against your lips between kisses, "not going anywhere, baby—fuck—not ever."
her hands cradled your face like you were something precious, even as her hips snapped against yours with bruising force—the perfect contradiction of tenderness and ruin.
you continued to kiss her until she began absolutely drilling into you like there was no tomorrow. you had no choice but to have your hand fly to hold the back of her head and grip onto her blonde messy locks, as you opened your eyes and moaned erotically. the rubber hitting the spongy spot inside of you over and over again.
sabrina groaned against your mouth—low, wrecked, her breathing uneven—as your fingers tightened in her hair. she loved that, loved the way you claimed her just as fiercely as she claimed you. her hips stuttered for a second, her rhythm faltering as pleasure spiked through her, but she forced herself to keep going, to drag this out for you.
"close," she gasped against your lips, “gonna—fuck—gonna make you come—“
her hand slid down your body, her fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, pressing in tight, relentless circles—just to make sure you shattered beneath her.
“holy shit,” you cried, your voice already raspy from how verbal you had been. you felt yourself growing tighter around the rubber , the sounds of sabrina’s hips slapping against your ass and the squelching of the toy repeatedly entering and exiting out of you, filled your ears.
sabrina's breath shuddered, every muscle taut with the effort it took to keep going, to keep herself together. your voice—wrecked, desperate, broken—was driving her insane, and she was riding that edge right along with you, every snap of her hips bringing her closer, teetering right on the precipice as she leaned down, her lips right against your ear, “need you to—make you come—please, darling, be a good girl for me."
the words were a command, a plea, a prayer.
with sabrina’s word, you immediately released all over the toy, the rim of the toy coated in your white, creamy essence. you called her name out like a prayer as your legs shook violently and your vision grew white.
slumping over the counter as your knees began to give out on yourself . trying to catch your breath.
seeing you unravel beneath her pushed sabrina over the edge, the sight unraveling something primal in her, her hips stuttering and faltering, her rhythm faltering before she stilled, her body pressed flush against yours. she leaned down, burying her face in you neck, her breathing ragged and shaky. her arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight against her—as if she was afraid you might disappear, as if your body was the only thing keeping her grounded.
a few seconds passed like that, your breathing slowly returning to normal..sabrina slowly lifted her head, a breathless chuckle falling from her lips as she pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
“fuck,” you chuckled out softly, “baby i can’t stand.”
your voice coated with embarrassment and nervousness.
a smirk played at the corners of sabrina's lips as you spoke, a deep sense of pride settling over her at the realization that she'd literally reduced you to trembling, shaking mess.
"i think you're just weak," she teased, her voice low and amused, “i wrecked you."
she punctuated the words with a possessive squeeze, her arms tight around your waist.
“baby,” you whined with a heavy rasp in your voice, “i need help.”
sabrina couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped her at the sound of your whining voice, her expression softening as she gently began to ease herself out of you. she scooped you up in her arms with ease—as if you weighed nothing at all—and carried you toward the bedroom.
"alright, princess, we'll get you all cleaned up," she murmured against your hair,” then I'll consider having mercy on your poor, trembling legs."
once you were both in the bedroom, sabrina gently set you down on the edge of the bed before disappearing into the bathroom, unbuckling and discarding the strap. you could hear the sound of water running for a minute before she returned, kneeling down in front of you, a damp washcloth in hand.
she carefully pulled your legs apart, her touch tender and gentle on your skin as she slid the cloth up and down your inner thighs, cleaning off the mess she'd made. her expression was almost reverent, her eyes fixated on the marks her touch had left behind as she spoke softly, "my girl."
once the sticky mess between your thighs was wiped up and the washcloth was thrown into the hamper, sabrina sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapping around you and coaxing you to lean against her.
she rubbed your back in slow, soothing circles, placing a gentle kiss to your temple as she pulled you closer.
"you okay, sweetheart?" her voice was soft and low, her hand gently pulling your chin up so she could get a good look at your face.
“tired baby,” you managed to get out as you looked at her while your eyes began to weigh heavier.
sabrina chuckled at your drowsy response, her eyes shining with tender affection as she cradled your face in her hand.
"i can see that, sweetheart," she murmured, brushing a lock of hair from your face, her touch feather-light, almost reverent, “c'mere. get comfy."
with gentle, careful motions, she laid you back against the pillows, crawling up beside you and gathering you into her arms.
“i love you brina,” you sleepily rasped, closing your eyes as you held onto sabrina while she protected you in her arms.
sabrina exhaled softly—not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh—but something impossibly fond, her fingers tracing idle patterns along your spine as she pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.
"i love you more," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, like it was a secret just for you.
she stayed like that—holding you close, listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing—long after you’d drifted off.
(and if she tightened her arms around you just a little more before finally closing her eyes? well. that was between her and the moonlit room.)
synopsis: coming to coachella to watch your girlfriend headline was a quick, on the spot decision. at first, you couldn’t make it due to being booked for the entirety of the day both weekends, but then your management moved things around and worked with sabrina’s management team to be able to surprise her; or, you surprise your girlfriend at coachella and she hard launches your relationship at the end of her set!
cw: ermmm nothing, reader gives off girly vibes but you can work around it if you want +++ outfit i imagined for reader is in the header!
wc: like… really short; 1.4k
suzi speaks: sabrina’s coachella performance this year for weekend one genuinely had me star struck guys that’s my girl please ++ there’s like no wlw sabrina fics on here so i hope someone needed tbis as much as i did LMAO also guys i’ve came to the conclusion that bigger text looks a little bit better for the main part of the story so bye bye little text…kinda 💔
coming to coachella had never been part of your plan.
your schedule had been packed, painfully so. calls, fittings for your upcoming movie, appearances stacked on top of each other until there was barely room to breathe, let alone fly out into the desert for something as spontaneous as watching your girlfriend headline one of the biggest stages in the world.
you had told her you couldn’t make it and you remember the way sabrina had smiled through it on the phone: soft, understanding, a little too quick to say “it’s okay, i get it.” like she didn’t want you to hear the small disappointment tucked underneath.
and you let her. for about…24 hours.
the decision happened fast: management shifted things around, flights got booked, someone somewhere pulled a favor, and suddenly you’re in a car driving through the heat-hazed roads of coachella valley, heart beating a little too hard against your ribs.
your outfit feels like a mix you and ‘brina: light, soft, and a little too pretty for the dust and smell of weed around you, but you don’t care. you never really have.
you clutch your phone in your lap, staring at the last text she sent you.
wish you were here </3
you smile to yourself. “yeah,” you murmur under your breath, eyes flicking up as the festival grounds come into view. “me too.”
backstage is louder than you expected.
not in volume, but in energy. everything moves fast so fast. people talking over each other, headsets crackling, racks of clothes being wheeled past like they’re part of some kind of organized chaos.
you’re guided through it all carefully, thank god.
“she’s about to go into a transition,” someone tells you, one of her stylists you think, clipboard tucked against her chest, eyes scanning everything at once.
she pauses when she looks at you properly, gaze softening a little in understanding.
“she’s been a little…” she hesitates, searching for the word. “bummed, i guess. trying not to show it.”
your chest tightens at that. “yeah,” you say quietly. “i know.”
the stylist gives you a small, knowing smile before stepping aside. “she’ll be in there. just uh don’t scare her too bad.”
you almost laugh. almost.
the music outside shifts. cheers start to swell, then dim, then rise again like a wave breaking against the stage.
and then, the curtain moves. she steps in hastily and you see her before she sees you.
slightly breathless, cheeks flushed, still glowing from the stage lights, energy clinging to her like something alive. she’s laughing at something someone behind her says, already halfway to the chair where they’re going to fix her hair, change her outfit, send her back out again.
but then she looks up and everything stops.
“-what?” it comes out barely above a breath, and you don’t move at first, suddenly nervous in a way you hadn’t been five seconds ago.
“hi baby,” you say softly.
and that’s all it takes before she’s crossing the room, not worried about anyone stopping her, hands finding your face like she needs to make sure you’re real and actually there, her big eyes wide and glassy and so, so bright.
“you’re here,” she says, voice breaking on the second word. “but you…you said-“
“i know,” you laugh a little, breath shaky. “i lied.”
she doesn’t even pretend to be mad. “you’re actually here,” she repeats, like she can’t quite process it, like if she says it enough times it’ll settle into something real.
you nod and that’s when she kisses you.
it’s immediate and overwhelming. her hands still on your face, pulling you closer like she’s been holding this in all day and doesn’t know how else to let it out.
you feel her smile into it before someone behind her clears their throat, half-laughing, half-reminding. “you’ve got like, thirty seconds.”
she pulls back just enough to look at you again, forehead resting against yours. “you’re staying okay,” she says, not even a question.
“i’m not going anywhere.”
and that grin on her face, brighter than anything you’ve seen on stage, made everything you did to get here worth it.
“okay,” she breathes. “okay, i - god, okay.”
she squeezes your hands once, quick, grounding herself and you, before they start pulling her back into the whirlwind.
right before she disappears again, she leans in, presses one more quick kiss to your lips.
“watch from the side,” she says. “not the crowd. i want to see you.”
so you do.
you stand just off the stage, near where security lines the barricade, close enough that you can see everything clearly, far enough that you’re not actually in there’s crowd.
the lights hit harder from here and the music especially feels louder.
and sabrina, she’s different now. you can see it in the way she moves, the way she seems more lighter now, like something someone inside her clicked back into place.
her eyes sweep the side of the stage mid-performance, and when they land on you, you see it: that spark in her eyes and that oh so beautiful smile. and it’s not the performance smile, not the polished one, it’s yours.
the final moments come too soon.
the crowd is deafening now, lights flashing, energy peaking as everything builds toward the end.
then, that vintage convertible you’ve grown familiar with after 7 months of watching her plan rolls out onto the floor, headlights cutting through the haze, the moment cinematic in a way that almost doesn’t feel real.
she climbs in like she’s done it a thousand times.
the music swells and the crowd screams and the car starts to move.
you think that’s how it ends, until it doesn’t. because when she starts to get closer to the exit, near where you’re standing, it slows then comes to a complete stop.
there’s a split second where everything feels suspended. the crowd is confused.
you see her eyes search the crowd before landing on you and she leans out of the car.
“come here!” she yells, gesturing to you.
you don’t even remember moving. just the feeling of your heart in your throat, the sound of the crowd shifting into something curiois.
her hands reach for you, guide you just enough towards her, and then you’re there, right at the window of the car.
she grabs you, pulls you in like she did backstage, but this time there’s nothing quiet about it.
the kiss is deeper and more intentional than backstage.
the crowd erupts but you barely hear it, their screams just start to fade into background noise.
your hands are in her hair, her fingers tight against your waist
your hands sneak their way into her hair, her fingers tighten around your waist to pull you in deeper, and for a second it feels like it’s just the two of you in the middle of something impossibly loud.
when she pulls back, she’s smiling like she can’t help it. “hey there,” she says again, softer this time.
you laugh, breathless. “hi.” and then she’s gone again, the car starts to move away and the lights explode into their final sequence.
and the night ends with your heart somewhere still back on that stage.
the morning after is quiet, much more softer in a way the night never was.
sunlight spills through the curtains, warm and slow, settling across the bed where you’re half tangled together, bare limbs heavy with sleep and everything that came after the show.
she’s already awake. you can tell by the way her fingers are tracing absent patterns along your arm, slow, thoughtful, like she’s still processing everything.
“you came,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
you hum, eyes still closed. “i did.”
there’s a pause. then she shifts closer, pressing her face into your shoulder. “i’m really glad you did.” she mumbles.
that makes you smile. you turn slightly, brushing your nose against hers. “me too.”
she looks at you like she’s memorizing something.
then her phone buzzes. once. twice. again.
you both glance over at it. “…should we?” you ask.
she groans softly. “noo.” it buzzes again.
you laugh. “it’s probably bad.”
“it’s probably insane,” she corrects, but she’s reaching for it anyway and you grab yours too.
notifications flood the screen, all being mentions, tags, clips, screenshots.
comments stacking faster than you can even read them.
you glance at her and she’s already looking at you. slow smile spreading on both your faces.
“well,” she says, voice still rough from sleep, from singing, from last nights post-show activities. “guess that’s… out there now.”
you laugh softly, setting your phone down again like it can wait. “yeah,” you say and then, quieter now, “i think i’m okay with that.”
she leans in, presses a kiss to your lips - slow, unhurried, nothing like the ones from the night before but somehow just as full.
───୨ৎ─── QUIET IN THE LIBRARY II N. WHEELER X FEMME!READER
summary: your tutor can't control herself when you walk into your tutoring session wearing a short skirt and revealing shirt.
content: popular!reader, femme!reader, rich!reader, smut, mouth covering, minor breath play, sub!reader, public sex, grinding/dry humping, one use of good girl, not at all proof read i'm sorry wc: 0.9k note: femme!reader and tutor!nancy will return...
nancy wheeler taglist: @yyunju
nancy tried to control herself, she really did, and yet the second you walk into the library, wearing a tiny little skirt that'd be sure to get you dress coded if you weren't rich enough to have teachers not want to be on your bad side, any sense of composure goes straight out the window.
"so what are we doing today, wheeler?" you begrudgingly ask, sitting down opposite her. the way you lean over to get a peak at her book only serves to push up your cleavage, and nancy swallows, silently begging herself to return her gaze back to her notes.
she's been tutoring you for the better half of two months now, ever since she was told to by the principle. there's absolutely no way she would ever volunteer to spend time with you, the school's resident mean girl, of her own volition. maybe she hasn't gotten over the way you insulted her sweater the first day you met, or maybe she hates the way her stomach flips when she sees you, but she's only agreed to help you in order to look good for college applications, and you, despite initially protesting, had no other choice but to let her. your parents might be rich, but they can't pay their way past you failing ever single class.
"english literature," nancy mumbles, still staring at your chest.
"are you looking for your notes in my tits or are you staring for another reason?"
nancy snaps out of it, cheeks flushing a shade of red at the realisation that you noticed. if anything, and certainly judging by your smug expression, you were purposely trying to make her look.
"your outfits are... distracting," she grits out once she's composed herself. every session is the same; you show up in something remotely revealing and nancy keeps her composure for roughly five minutes before slipping off to fuck you somewhere scandalously public.
"wanna do something about it?" you smirk, cocking your head at the nearby bookshelves. "i seem to have left.... whatever book we're reading for class at home, so i suppose we'll have to go fetch me another one?"
nancy knew this would happen, so she tucked another copy in her bag before coming here. she could slide it over to your side of the table and be done with this whole conversation. even though you'd most likely resist at first, you'd eventually open it up to whatever page she instructs and get on with the work, no doubt complaining the whole time. or, she could pretend.
"you forgot your book again?" nancy chooses the latter, standing up from her seat. "fine, let's hope they have another copy."
the second you enter the secluded classics section, nancy is on you, pushing you up against the shelf without any remorse for the way the books dig into your back. her lips meet yours in that rough, punishing way you like best, her hips moving against yours.
"what happened to....getting my book?" you try to be cocky, but your words falter as nancy's kisses trail down to your neck, sucking at the soft skin there. in fact, your whole facade does. without nancy pressing against you so hard, you doubt you'd be able to stand.
when nancy first discovered this side of you, it opened worlds. you can act indifferent and above everything, but the second nancy asks you to jump, you'll respond with 'how high?' the complete power trip it gives nancy is intoxicating, to see you reduced to such a pathetic mess for her and her only.
with all the kissing and pulling at clothes, you find yourself with your shirt half unbuttoned, and your hips slotted against her thigh. just to try it, you slowly grind, a hand grasping her shoulder when you do, so hard you swear you break a perfectly manicured nail. it's the best sensation you've ever experienced. "oh, oh shit, nancy...."
"you like that?" nancy scoffs, but she places a hand on your hip anyways, guiding your motions against her. as much as she hates to admit, she likes it too.
"don't care, so...so good...gonna—" a loud moan slips past your lips without permission. thankfully, the library seems to be mostly deserted today, otherwise you'd surely be in a lot of trouble already.
"quiet," nancy hisses. you might be popular, but nancy isn't sure the librarian is going to let lesbian sex in the classics section slide. when you continue to moan, nancy has no choice (or at least she tells herself that) but to cover your mouth. "that's more like it."
just from a bit of grinding, you're already so close. nancy has half a mind to mock you for it, but instead she uses her thumb and index finger to cover your nose as well, completely unable to lie to herself that it's to keep you quiet this time. it's exactly what you need to push you over the edge, reaching your peak with a muffled sob. "good girl," nancy softly whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple so light that, in your daze, you can't be sure if you felt it or not.
you sag against her, head resting against her shoulder in a temporary moment of tenderness. then, once you've recovered enough, you whisper in her ear, and despite not being able to see your face, nancy knows your smirking when you say, "i know you brought another copy in your bag."
