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formula-ghost · 3 days ago

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Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You’ve reached your breaking point with Oscar, but an unfortunate grand prix changes everything you thought you wanted.

WORD COUNT: 10.3k

WARNINGS: Conversations about sex and but no actual smut, degradation, angst. Mentions of cheating. Oscar is literally horrible. Mention of unhealthy family dynamics. Lots of cursing. Pain, so much pain. Mention of injury. I’m so sorry for all the emotional suffering this chapter will cause.

TAGLIST: @at-a-rax-ia @henna006 @linnygirl09 @cassielikereading @judelina @supertrashbread @fastandcurious16 @widow-cevans @czennieszn @irisesinthegarden @wierdflowerpower @sweetwh0re @reginalaufeyson-holmes @honethatty12 @suns3treading @obxstiles @mimiastroos @mrs-reeves-17 @milkysoop @amalialeclerc @starksztony @llando4norris @ginsengi @angxlzinthesky

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Accept message request from Lando_Norris?

Your fingers hovered over the “accept” button, nervous but curious. What would Lando ever want to talk to you about?

He had avoided you like the plague since that night in Italy, and you hardly blamed him. But as far as you knew, no one except you and Nicole knew that Lily was no longer in the picture; still, what would have changed to cause Lando Norris, of all people, to be messaging you at night?

“Who are you texting?”

You jumped, not having noticed that Oscar had turned over to face you, seemingly unable to sleep.

“No one,” you said. “Just scrolling.”

Oscar confirmed your suspicions. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” you said, short and annoyed.

Oscar didn’t respond, instead just moving on top of you, holding your chin in his hands to force you to look at him.

“You can’t even sleep until I fuck you like the little whore you are, huh?” He leaned down to kiss your neck, lips grazing over where only hours before he had left dark marks in the supple skin.

“Get off me, Oscar,” you said, and he immediately pulled back.

“You okay?” he asked.

You weren’t okay. In fact, you were furious. “You realize that you never even asked me if I was okay with you talking to me like that?”

The look in his eyes said only two words: Oh shit.

“YN, I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think of it like that. Shit, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you to treat me with respect.”

“I thought you liked it?” he said, running his fingers through his hair out of nervousness.

You sat up, the anger burning within you. You hadn’t planned to confront Oscar so soon after what you had overheard, but now that you’d gotten started, there was no stopping you.

“That’s not the point. Maybe I’m tired of feeling like your personal sex toy, Oscar. Oh, but I forgot. My feelings aren’t your problem.”

Oscar exhaled angrily. “Is that really what this is about?”

You just looked at him, bewildered. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked.

He began, “Look, I don’t know what you think you heard—”

“I heard you talking shit about me on the phone to your own mother.”

“It wasn’t like that, YN.”

“Then what was it like? What’s your excuse now?”

Oscar tried to begin, his mouth opening with no words coming out. He truly didn’t know what to say. “It’s been a hard time.”

“I know. I’m well aware, Oscar. Because I made your feelings my problem for years.”

“I know, and I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life—”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.”

“I’m not making excuses. I’m just trying to explain it to you.”

“Of course, you want to talk now that I won’t give you sex anymore,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Oh my God,” Oscar huffed, and it took every ounce of your strength not to curse him out then and there. “You act like I’m some fucking villian. You can’t get mad at me for fucking you when you wanted this too.”

“But how do you know that, Oscar? How do you know what I want? Have you ever asked me what I want?” Tears began prickling at the edge of your eyes. “You haven’t, because you don’t care.”

Oscar looked at the wall, his jaw tense. “I’m not doing this right now.”

“Am I not even deserving of an honest conversation?” you said, the tears now flowing down your cheeks. It had been years since he’d seen you cry, but Oscar wouldn’t even look at you.

You got up from the bed and started changing from your pajamas to your regular clothes. “If you don’t want to talk, fine. I can’t make you. But I’m going home.”

“YN—”

“Leave me alone,” you said, grabbing your purse and exiting the bedroom. You heard him call for you again, but you ignored his pleas, walking ahead out of the apartment and to your car.

When you slid into the driver’s seat, you finally broke down, resting your head against the steering wheel. No thoughts went through your head. You weren’t much of a crier, so when you finally gave in, it was more of an act of your body giving up.

So you took a few minutes to compose yourself before driving the short distance home through the streets of Monaco, a place you’d grown to love. But his presence was everywhere. The car. The streets. Your apartment. Oscar was inescapable.

And when you felt your phone buzz as you sat with a cup of tea on the balcony an hour or so later, this reality was confirmed. He was calling.

You didn’t answer the first call, or the second. But by the third you knew that your only options were to turn your phone off, block him, or answer.

Well, what did you have to lose?

“What do you want?” you asked upon picking up the call.

“I’m sorry, YN. Can we talk?”

“Say whatever you’re going to say.”

He paused. “In person? I’m in the hallway.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please?” he asked. You sighed. Why could you never say no to this man?

“Fine. Give me a sec.” You hung up the call, took another deep breath, and opened the front door before immediately turning around to go back to your balcony. You couldn’t bear to look at him, and you welcomed the sound of the soft waves lapping at the harbor as a buffer.

He sat down beside you, and even before any words were said, you felt the tears returning. Something about this felt…final. And your intuition had hardly ever been wrong before.

“YN, I’m so sorry. When I get frustrated I say things I don’t mean. I was really out of line earlier.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, unable to truly accept his apology.

He continued, “And you’re right. I shouldn’t have just assumed that all the rough stuff was okay. And I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

You waited a moment for him to continue speaking, but he didn’t. “Is that all you have to say?”

“I just…don’t know what else you want me to say.” You looked over to him. His head was hung low, like a child in trouble at school. Not like a man who was taking accountability for his actions.

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

“What?” he asked.

You just stared at him for a moment, gathering the courage to ask your question.

“Did you talk to Lily like that?”

“Huh?” he echoed.

“Did you call her all those names? Degrade her?”

“Don’t ask me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s…personal. I don’t think Lily would appreciate me talking about it.”

“She didn’t appreciate me being in your life, either. But look how that turned out,” you said, the malice lingering on every word.

Your statement cut a little too deep for comfort. But Oscar finally relented, answering, “...I would, sometimes. She didn’t care for it. But I just…get frustrated a lot. It helps me get all that pent up energy out. Half the time I don’t even think about what I’m saying.”

You hummed. The implication of his words hung in the air; you were a relief for his frustration, a thoughtless passtime.

When you didn’t respond, he got nervous. “Did I…hurt you?”

“Not physically, no,” you answered, your eyes never moving from the sight of the harbor in the distance. “But I don’t think you really care.”

“Of course I care.”

“No, you don’t.” Your lip quivered. You tried to swallow the tears that came up, but you couldn’t.

“No, don’t cry,” Oscar said, reaching out to embrace you, but you avoided him, getting up to lean on the railing. He followed you, this time not offering any comforting touch.

“What the fuck are we doing, Oscar?” you said, barely able to get the words out. He grasped for words but wasn’t able to find them before the flood of emotions spilled from you.

You began, “I used to think that the fabric of our lives was…like, sewn together. Like we were destined to always be in each other's lives. But ever since the breakup I’m so afraid that everyone who ever warned me about you was right. I feel like all these years you’ve just been using me, stringing me along so you could have someone there when things don’t work out. Like I’m just your backup plan. Like I’m not even good enough for you to treat me like a human being.”

“You really feel like I’m using you?” Oscar asked, his surprise horrifically genuine. “Was I just using you when I went out of my way to call you every week for 4 years when I was away in school, even during exams and races? When I got you this place because I wanted to live close to my best friend?” His tone went from gentle to frenzied—not angry, but desperate, like he couldn’t even fathom it. “I mean, YN, what, did you want me to cheat on my girlfriend with you?”

You looked up at him, and he realized again that he had messed up again.

“No, that’s not what I wanted. I’d never do that to Lily because you know it’s been done to me.”

“I know, and was I not there for you when you needed me?” In a way, Oscar was right. When you had broken things off with your unfaithful ex, Oscar was the first to your rescue, staying with you for days while you could barely even function. “YN, what else do you want from me?”

“I want you to be honest about what’s going on between us.”

“We’re…. hooking up, I don’t know.”

“Is that all I am to you, a hookup? A friend with benefits?” Your soft tears became full on sobs now. “Oscar, I am in love with you! You are the love of my life. And you can’t tell me that you haven’t known exactly how I felt, for years now.”

“Of course I knew,” he whispered.

“Then why would you do this to me? Why would you take advantage of me like this?”

Oscar had started crying now, too.

“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“This isn’t fair, Oscar.”

“I’m sorry.”

A thick silence fell over the balcony. You knew that the conversation should be over now. There was nothing else you needed to say. But you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing the pointless hurt.

“Do you even love me?”

“Don’t—”

“Can you even look me in the fucking eyes and tell me that you don’t love me?”

“YN—”

You didn’t even let him complete his sentence, instead walking back into your apartment and slamming our now cold mug into the sink. “Just go,” you said, your voice stern.

“YN, please—” Oscar said, following you inside the apartment.

“Go!”

“You want the truth?” Oscar said, raising his voice to you for the first time since you’d ever known him. His eyes now flooded with tears, staining his cheeks. His hair was tousled, his under eye bags puffy and pronounced. He looked like a mess.

“All I’ve ever wanted is the truth.”

“The truth,” he began, swallowing, his voice cracking as he spoke. “The truth is that I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen.”

“No—”

“Yes, YN,” he said, his voice raising again.

“No, fuck you, Oscar, that’s not true!” You were both sobbing messes now.

“Yes it is,” he begged, his voice ragged.

“Then why would you do this?”

“Because…” he paused, taking a deep breath and sniffling, trying to regain his composure. “Because we were best friends, and you lived with us, and I was so scared of fucking things up.”

“So you went and just found a girlfriend instead?”

“No, it…” he looked away from you and took a sharp exhale. “It wasn’t as simple as that. You…” He let out a frustrated sigh. “It was just…complicated. You were the girl who lived with us, like another sister, I mean, I couldn’t have feelings for you of all people. So I was so scared.”

He looked at the wall, scarating his neck, and continued. “And when I met Lily, it was all just…simple. Everyone liked her, she was nice, she’s smart. When I brought her home she fit right in, the fans loved her. She was everything I needed her to be, y’know?” He exhaled.

His gaze fell to the floor and lingered as he continued. “I didn’t love her at first. I mean, I liked her, she was great, but it was more about just…filling a need, I guess. But I did fall in love with her later. I tried to love her with my whole heart, I really did. I thought that what I felt for you would just go away but obviously it didn’t. And then she fucking left me. As she should, honestly.”

Oscar nervously looked around the room until he could no longer avoid your piercing gaze, face frozen in disbelief.

“You’re horrible, Oscar.”

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“You used me. You used Lily. And all of this from the very beginning was about… my family? I’m sorry you all had to take me in because no one else would. I’m sorry I didn’t go to a fancy boarding school in London. I’m sorry that my parents are two pieces of shit that didn't want to take care of me when I was a literal child.”

“It’s not that—”

“But it is. That’s what you said.”

“It’s not you, YN. I mean, it was, but we’re not kids anymore. I love you. It was just… awful circumstances.”

“And now? What’s your excuse? I cut off my parents. And Lily fucking left you. So why are you just using me now?”

“It’s just too much right now. The breakup, the championship…I know if I try, I’ll just fuck it up. I lost Lily, I can’t lose you too.”

“Why? Because then you’ll have no one to warm your bed when you’re sad?”

“You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone that you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with!”

“You’re right, I don’t. Because the person I want to spend the rest of my life with is you, Oscar. But you don’t want me. You never have. I’m your backup plan until something better comes along. That’s all I’ve ever been. I’m not good enough for you, you don’t love me. I don’t even know who you are any more.”

“You said I was the love of your life,” Oscar said, his voice lowered now.

“You are. But I’m not yours. I don’t care what you say you feel. If you really love someone, you don’t treat them like that.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s all I can say.”

You let out a shaky breath, exhausted of all energy from the fighting. You didn’t even have it in you to be angry anymore.

“We shouldn’t do this. We should just go our separate ways and be done with it.”

“No, YN—”

“You have a championship to focus on, don’t you?” you said.

“You’re my best friend,” he said through his tears. “I need you.”

“I’ll finish out my employment contract through the end of the season. You can sell the apartment. I’ll pay back Mum for anything she had to spend on me when we were younger.”

“YN, please,” he begged.

“Don’t, Oscar,” you said, your voice soft now. “Just let me go.”

“Can I kiss you?”

The correct answer should be no. You should have told him to get the fuck out of your apartment and never come back. But it was Oscar.

You didn’t answer him, instead just walking up to him and embracing him, letting him hold you in his strong arms as his lips met yours one last time. His lips were salty with tears, but for once his touch was soft and gentle.

When you pulled away, he stayed close to you, pressing his forehead down to yours. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Go home. You’ve got a flight to catch in the morning.”

You could call in sick to the United States Grand Prix in Miami; Oscar could not.

Well, theoretically, he could. God knows the reserve drivers would be happy to take his place and show off in front of the teams that were always scouring for new blood. But he couldn’t back down now. Not with a trophy looming so ominously over his head.

And especially not in Miami. Everyone hated Miami. Everyone except Lando, that is.

And as Oscar mindlessly paced the paddock back and forth, praying to God that no journalists would pester him for an interview, he couldn’t escape the reminder of his teammate’s victory.

“Well, things seem to be heating up here in Miami! The race continues between McLaren teammates Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris in this early battle for the World Driver’s Championship. Piastri is putting in a valiant effort, but who can forget Lando Norris’ first victory here last year? It’s incredible to see how far he has come in such a short amount of time—”

He really needed to stop walking past the commentator’s box.

This is usually when Oscar would try to find you in the paddock, or send you a text from halfway across the world. But he couldn’t do that anymore; you hadn’t quite barred him from communication, but what could he say?

He just needed to focus. Perform. Drown himself in the work. That’s what he told himself as he made his way back to the McLaren garage, away from the prying eyes of the media and the haunting words of the commentators. That’s what he told himself as he slipped on a set of headphones and nodded along as his race engineer spoke, acting as if he was paying attention.

That’s what he told himself as he climbed into the car, took a deep breath, and pressed his foot to the gas.

Thousands of miles away, in Monaco, you were supposed to be having dinner. Actually, you were supposed to be in Miami, taking photos of Oscar in all his glory.

But you couldn’t face him. You couldn’t eat. You couldn’t even sleep.

In the corner of your living room sat a box with Oscar’s old stuff in it. You stared at it as if it had the eyes to stare back. Your hand mindlessly swirled your fork around your remaining food, now cold and mostly uneaten.

Why did this feel like a breakup?

You wanted to scream, but you’d already gotten noise complaints from the fight days prior. So instead, your apartment was deadly quiet.

You sighed, moving to your bedroom and collapsing in the soft covers, having decided to give up and indulge yourself with a night of bed rotting. But even your bed felt empty. The sheets held a faint trace of Oscar’s scent. It would come out with a simple wash, but laundry was the furthest thing from your mind right now.

You needed a distraction. You grabbed your phone and immediately went to social media to mindlessly scroll.

But in your notifications was one you had nearly forgotten about: that message request from Lando.

You opened it without even thinking, unfortunately sending the read receipt even though you weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

Hey, not to be weird but do you know if anything’s going on with Oscar? He’s been acting odd recently.

You groaned in frustration. You couldn’t escape your best friend.

The message was sent a while ago—when the pair were in Bahrain, actually. You should have just deleted it and acted as if you never saw it. But you felt horribly awkward leaving Lando on read.

Yeah, he and Lily broke up :(

Was the frown really necessary? Should you say more? You didn’t have the energy to think, sending the message without much fanfare. You locked your phone and put it back on your nightstand.

But only a few moments later, it buzzed. Another message from Lando.

But…Lando was in Miami? At the circuit? He should be driving, not texting you. You opened your phone and clicked on the notification.

Damn, that’s rough. I thought they were endgame. You in the paddock?

You raised an eyebrow. Why would Lando Norris, of all people, want to know where you are?

No, I’m back in Monaco.

Another nearly instant reply. Ah, I was hoping to make a cameo on Oscar’s Instagram haha. You’ll be at Imola though?

This whole interaction felt…weird.

I will! I’ll be sure to get some good team shots lol

You tried to match his energy with your reply, but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that this wasn’t right. But as you finally did put your phone down and retire for the night, your mind kept racing, coming to wildly different conclusions.

Maybe Lando did want to be friends. Maybe, now that Lily was out of the picture, he felt more comfortable around you. Maybe he was just trying to smooth things over with Oscar in the championship battle. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Or maybe you were so used to Oscar’s lying and manipulation that you couldn’t imagine someone talking to you just for the sake of friendship.

You huffed to yourself as the thought crossed your mind. You pulled your blanket up and buried yourself in it, as if the thoughts were something physical you could hide from. You fell into a tense sleep.

Oscar couldn’t sleep, though. He could barely sleep back when he had you at his beck and call, let alone when you all weren’t speaking to each other.

How had he fucked up so badly? He brought his hands to his face and roughly exhaled. Like you, he had resigned himself to spend his night scrolling, until he too noticed an unanswered message.

Except it wasn’t from Lando. It was from Lily. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

She was brief and to the point.

I just wanted to let you know I’ll be at Imola for a company event. I doubt we’ll run into each other. Hope you and YN are well.

Her words stung. The professionalism where there once was warmth and love. The perfectly petty dig at him and you, assuming that he had already moved on (though, she wasn’t exactly wrong).

He wanted to throw his phone off his hotel room balcony. From the slight crack in the blinds, he could see palm trees, and the ocean far off in the distance. And he knew that back in Monaco, you’d be staring at the same moon, hearing the water in the distance as it lulled you to sleep. The miles between you during race weekends had always been numerous, but the distance wasn't—not until now, at least.

He slammed his phone on the nightstand and took yet another sleeping pill.

It was going to be a horrible week.

And, unfortunately, the morning wasn’t much better. Another oh so friendly interaction with his teammate.

“Hey, Oscar, wait up,” the Brit called, jogging to catch Oscar as they both entered the paddock. Oscar slowed his pace but didn’t stop, hopeful that this would be a clear sign that he wasn’t here for conversation.

When he did catch up, Oscar just gave Lando a small nod as a greeting.

“Hey, I, uh, heard about you and Lily. I’m so sorry, mate.”

Oscar turned, making a confused and irritated face. “Who told you?”

“YN. Well, I asked her if you were okay.”

The Aussie made a small grumbling noise.

“I was just worried, you know. You just seemed like you were going through some stuff. You know I’m always here if you need me, right?”

“I need to beat you,” Oscar said, but his words had no bite to them. There was no snappy anger anymore, just exhaustion.

“Of course,” Lando said, smiling, as if he thought his teammate’s championship ambitions were nothing more than comic relief. “But for real, man, I’m sorry and I’m here for you.”

“Thanks,” Oscar said, though he didn’t really mean it. He just wanted to be alone.

In Monaco, you were breaking your first cardinal rule of a breakup (even a friendship breakup) and turning on your TV to watch Oscar drive.

You had managed to go without watching the free practices and even quali, but you couldn’t bring yourself to not watch the Grand Prix.

And it was good that you tuned in, because he won.

You nearly threw your phone across the room when he finally passed the checkered flag. You had been practically holding your breath since he secured the lead in a masterfully timed pit stop mid race, beating out Max Verstappen to bring home his second win of the season.

So, maybe he wouldn’t hate Miami as much anymore.

Your phone—secured now on your nightstand to prevent any race-related breakage—loomed in the distance as you debated sending him a congrats text. It wasn’t like you all had gone through a true breakup; you weren’t even together. But you knew you couldn’t let yourself end up in his bed again. You knew that he was a broken man, and you couldn’t fix him.

So your friendship had come to occupy this odd liminal space in which neither of you knew exactly where you stood. At some point, this would have to be discussed, but clearly neither of you had learned your lesson on healthy communication.

You wanted to tell your best friend that you were proud of him. Was that such a bad thing?

It wouldn’t be, if you could ignore that voice now echoing in your mind.

Since when are her feelings my problem?

You nearly gagged at the thought. Yeah, you weren’t texting him.

And back in Miami, Oscar anxiously awaited a text that would never come.

“Oscar, mate, quit staring at your phone and let’s celebrate!” Lando teased, patting his teammate on the back.

Oscar just sighed, opening his phone again to find no messages from you.

“She’s not coming back,” Lando said. “So either you get drunk enough to call her, or you get drunk enough to find someone to replace her. Either way, you’re getting drunk tonight.”

“Really, Lando?”

“She destroyed a five year relationship over some stupid shit, and you just won another grand prix. So yes, I think you should get fucked up with me tonight!”

“Don’t talk about Lily like that, mate. And besides, I’m not even waiting on her.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Then who are you waiting on?”

Oscar’s defenses were wearing down, even while sober. “You know who.”

“And you still want me to believe that you two aren’t hooking up?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Spill.”

Under normal circumstances, Oscar was never the type to discuss his personal life at work, much less with his rival for the championship. But as the plan of going out was abandoned in favor of a nice bottle of Cuban rum ordered to the room, Oscar found himself spilling his secrets like a teenage girl at a sleepover.

“And then I just…” he hiccuped, “I told her everything. And she didn’t believe me, and I don’t blame her, but it fucking hurt, you know? And we were just screaming at each other, she said we should go our separate ways. What am I supposed to say to that? And I still haven’t heard from her, but her and Lily are gonna be at Imola. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“Mate,” Lando said, slurring his words, “You fucked this up worse than I fucked up the championship last year.”

The two drivers laughed—otherwise, they’d have to cry at the peril poor Oscar had put himself in.

But the time flew by, and soon enough Oscar found himself on a flight to Italy, which he secretly prayed would crash so that he could avoid this entire charade.

Of course, on all your respective flights, the feeling was mutual; neither you, Oscar, nor Lily really wanted to be there. But duty called, and you were nothing if not professional.

It was an odd place to be; on one hand, you loved this job. It was fun getting to explore the world with your best friend and get paid to take pictures and make silly videos. The electric atmosphere of the paddock was one that had always felt like home, like you belonged there.

On the other hand, every time you thought about seeing Oscar again, you wanted to puke.

Thankfully, when you did inevitably see him again, your lunch did not resurface. You operated like a robot; no banter, no friendliness, just stark professionalism.

And Oscar didn’t know what was worse; not having you there, or seeing you act like a stranger.

The one silver lining, at least, was that Lily was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t handle those emotions too.

So, again and again throughout the weekend, he repeated that manta to himself: Just focus on work. Just focus on work.

He said it to himself one last time before he hopped in the car for qualifying. Just focus.

But he just couldn't. From the seat of his car, the chaos of the pit lane and the gaggles of photographers were just blurs, unidentifiable blobs. I had always comforted him to think that one of those was you, watching him. Now it was haunting.

And somewhere, buried away in the paddock, Lily was there. Oscar could imagine it; her polished and professional demeanor, almost perfect, as she schmoozed up to that one executive from the company that he swore always had a thing for her.

He wanted to scream. Instead, he had to pull the car into the garage as the session was stopped due to an accident. It was raining heavily. Extra caution was advised, his engineer explained, but Oscar couldn’t focus. Not because of his thoughts—although, those certainly didn’t help—but rather because of what he saw across the garage.

You were chatting with Lando.

“Hey, YN!” Lando greeted as he hopped out of his car, seeing you in the back of the garage taking photos. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You too,” you said, though it wasn’t particularly true.

“Looks like we’re going to be a while,” he said looking over his shoulder at the storm brewing in the distance, “want to walk the paddock with me and get some candids?”

“Sure,” you agreed, though the request confused you.

The two of you left the garage and Oscar felt like punching the wall.

At first you walked in silence, your only emitted sound being the soft click of your camera. It was kind of pointless, though, since you were supposed to be getting shots of Oscar. You knew this. Lando knew this too.

“Can I ask you something, Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there any reason that you’ve been pretty…friendly lately?” you asked, controlling your tone so it came off as genuinely curious rather than suspicious.

“Honestly,” he laughed, scratching the back of his neck with nervousness, “I felt really bad about everything that happened on the trip. I was afraid I might’ve scared you off.”

Well, that didn’t make much sense. Lando was the one who had been avoiding you since the trip. But, after dealing with Oscar, you had simply accepted that men in general made no sense.

“You didn’t,” you said. “And, I mean, the only reason we ended up like that is because Lily was trying to get rid of me. But, you see how that worked out.”

“Really? She didn’t have the balls to tell you to leave her man alone?”

“Not until after you left,” you said, exhaling in exhaustion.

“Damn,” he said, looking away from you. You snapped a few photos of his candid side profile, admiring how the light hit his curls just right. “You know, the only reason I ran off in the club that night like that was because I didn’t want to get involved in all that? I mean, I wasn’t about to steal Oscar’s side chick.” He laughed. “But from what I hear, things have changed?”

You laughed. “Oscar’s side chick?”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t sleeping together?”

“Why do you want to know?” you laughed. Was Lando…flirting with you? No. He couldn’t be. He was Lando Norris, the most notorious playboy of the 2025 grid.

“Aw, c’mon. I want to know the drama!” he teased, flashing his boyish smile.

“Well, what if I want to know your drama?” you teased back, taking the opportunity to snap a few photos of him as you continued walking.

“Psh, I’ve got no drama. Just keeping to myself, trying to win.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You’re avoiding the question, YN,” he said, smirking. Holy shit, he was flirting with you. But did you really mind? It felt nice to have that playful banter, to see a man who wanted that back and forth more than he just wanted your body. What was wrong with having a little fun?

You sighed and told him the most technical version of the truth. “Oscar never cheated. But you really thought I was sleeping with Oscar and you didn’t say anything to Lily?”

“Wasn’t my business. Besides, I thought it was pretty obvious.” His comment left a bit of a sour taste in your mouth, especially knowing the fears that Lily had confessed to you so long ago.

“No, I wouldn’t do that to Lily,” you said, and it was true. After all, you were both women.

“And what about Oscar?”

You rolled your eyes. Having a nice conversation with Lando helped you remember how not nice your time with Oscar had been recently. “Oh, fuck him,” you said weakly.

“Well, did you?”

You paused, unsure of whether or not to confess. “I already told you that he didn’t cheat. Is what, or who, I do in my spare time really any of your business?” you playfully teased.

His lips curled upwards. “I like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

The double entendre wasn't missed on you. You glanced over your shoulder, scanning the crowds to ensure that no one was paying too close attention. “You don’t have to worry about me and Oscar. But you know I run his social media, right? So I see all the gossip pages, all the shit you get yourself into. It’s a bold claim to say you’ve got no drama.”

“Oh, darling, they don’t even know the half of it,” he smirked. You all had turned around by now, walking back in the direction of the paddock. The crows were thinner now.

He continued, “But what about you, huh? You’re all bored with Oscar and now you want some real fun?” He let out a small laugh. “No, you’re not like that. Too much of a good girl.”

“You think I’m too good? I’m here flirting with my best friend’s rival for the championship.”

“Are we flirting, is that was this is?” he asked, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing. “I thought we were just having a pleasant conversation, catching up on the gossip.” Unbeknownst to you, Lando had gotten all the gossip from Oscar after their drunken celebration in Miami. But he wanted to see exactly how much you’d reveal to him.

“Well, sure then. I’m sure you get tired of race talk all day, anyway.”

“You say that like you think race talk is boring. But I’ve seen you at enough races to know better. Don’t play coy, you love it, don’t you? You know more about racing than most of the drivers’ girlfriends.”

It kind of unnerved you, the way Lando knew exactly how to push your buttons. The subtle you’re not like the other girls implication; both you knew it wasn’t a compliment, but rather a statement meant to rile you up and see how you’d react. And it worked.

Your voice lowered, steady yet quieter. “It’s a bit sexist to assume that women don’t know anything about racing. And knowing more about racing doesn’t make me any better than anyone else.”

“I never said that, love.”

“Hmm, but you thought it.”

“Are you in my head now?” You playfully rolled your eyes. “So tell me about all the race talk between you and Oscar.”

“Is that a euphemism for something?” you chuckled.

“D’you want it to be?” he smirked. “No, no, really. Tell me what groundbreaking F1 opinions are inside that pretty little head of yours.” Yeah, he was definitely flirting with you.

“I’ve got nothing groundbreaking,” you said as your smile loosened, contemplating how you wanted to arrange your words. “I think Oscar has a good shot at winning the WDC this year, if he can get out of his own head.”

“And what about me?”

“I think you’ll give him a run for his money. But you care too much about what random people on the internet think,” you said, ending the statement with that on the nose jest.

“You’re probably right,” he smiled. “God, you sounded like my PR manager for a sec there.”

“Not exactly dirty talk, is it?” you joked.

You arrived back at the McLaren garage. Lando walked in first, seeing that Oscar’s back was to you, and positioned himself so that when Oscar looked around, he’d see him instead of you. You were none the wiser.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You still haven’t answered my question. How was he?” Lando’s face was plastered with a mischievous grin.

You playfully hit his shoulder. “Don’t ask me that!” you cooed, though you didn’t mind his closeness, the warmth of his breath on your ear.

Oscar didn’t like it, though. And when he turned around and saw your back to him, Lando leaned down next to you, and smirking, he wanted to run him over with his car.

Lando looked up for only a split second, but his eyes met Oscar’s, as if to acknowledge what he was doing. Or, as if to say, yes, I’m doing this, and you can’t stop me.

Oscar couldn’t handle the audacity of watching Lando flirt with you in front of his own eyes. Thankfully, you were tapped on the shoulder by none other than the new guy, who had broken his extremely expensive camera, and you were called away to help him figure it out.

Oscar crossed the garage to face Lando, never breaking his line of sight.

“Oh hey, mate, what’s up?” Lando asked, innocently.

“Why are you talking to YN?”

“Oh, she wanted to take some photos—”

“Don’t talk to YN,” Oscar said, his voice plain but stern.

“Mate, we were just having a chat. It wasn’t like that. Don’t be so paranoid.”

“I’m serious,” Oscar reiterated. “Don’t cross that line, Lando.”

“Okay, my bad,” Lando said, nervously laughing and carelessly throwing his hands in the air. Oscar still wouldn’t shift his gaze, even as both drivers were called to get back in their cars to resume the qualifying session.

There was something up about Lando, he could tell. But it’d have to wait. Now, he had a pole to get.

Well, he tried, but only managed to come in fourth. Lando got pole. Of fucking course.

Another sleepless night passed with no messages from you.

And the next morning, there you were as usual, staring at him only through the eye of your camera lens.

But then, across the garage, you had no problem chatting it up with Lando. He threw you a glimpse of his award winning smirk and Oscar felt violent. He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

You were doing it to spite him, that was obvious. You’d never be interested in a guy like Lando; too much of a playboy. And honestly, Oscar knew deep down that he deserved this. But it still made him sick to his stomach.

The feeling only dissipated when it was replaced by that primitive need within him to win. The lights before him went out and reason gave way to instinct.

Lando bottled the pole, losing the lead to Max after the first corner. Oscar fell back one place, narrowly avoiding a collision between Charles and Lewis, before overtaking them as they struggled to reorient their cars.

So it was just him, Max, and Lando. He could do this.

His body moved automatically. He could hear the roar of the engines, the chattering of the radio, and the screaming of the fans in the distance, but in his mind all was quiet. Laps blurred as he sped along the track, pushing inch by inch closer to overtaking Max.

Eventually he did, getting DRS and flying past the Redbull driver, pushing hard to get a good lead over him.

All that was left now was his own teammate.

“Okay Oscar, you’ve got enough space between you and Verstappen,” his race engineer said.

“I want to overtake.”

“A 1-2 is our goal right now—”

“Then he can be 2nd. I want to win.”

Silence befell the radio channel for a moment.

His engineer returned. “Okay. Papaya rules.”

Papaya rules. The phrase that haunted his dreams.

There was really no need to use the coded language anymore. The world knew what it meant—race, but keep it clean. Put the team above yourself. Don’t do anything reckless.

But Oscar was sick of being the good teammate, the one who always let Lando win for the sake of the team. He was tired of being gifted wins. Team orders were bullshit. This wasn’t about McLaren anymore. This was about his pride. This was everything.

So he pushed harder than he should have. He was wearing his tires out, he knew, but Lando just coasted along, as if nothing was amiss. As if his teammate wasn’t out for blood and gaining on him with every lap.

Lando glanced in his mirrors and saw Oscar behind him.

“Oscar’s getting close,” he said to his engineer.

“We told him papaya rules. Remember, our goal here is a 1-2.”

“He’s gonna wear out his tires.”

“Let’s just focus on keeping P1.”

But Lando knew it wasn’t that simple. This was no longer impersonal racing, just the best of the best competing against each other because it was in their nature to do so.

No, this was personal now.

Lando rounded the corner, feeling Oscar hot on his heels, but managed to defend his position. He knew that with DRS enabled at the next stretch, he wouldn’t be able to hold him off.

But in front of him, he was already close to lapping the backmarkers of the grid.

Oscar could see them in the distance; the familiar teal of Lance Stroll’s Aston Martin, and an even more familiar fumble as he drove erratically due to some mechanical issue with the car.

Lando slowed down, but Oscar couldn’t react. He swerved, hitting the barrier.

Back in the garage, the breath left your lungs.

You couldn’t resist the temptation of watching. You’d slid the headset on after Oscar had driven off, and you’d planned to leave before he got back to the garage and discovered that you’d ever been there. No harm, no foul. The allure of the purring engines and adrenaline-fueled racing was just too much to resist.

But now, hearing the violent scrape of carbon fiber against metal as Oscar’s car screeched along the barriers, your heart sunk into your chest.

“Are you alright, Oscar?” you heard his race engineer ask, his voice filling your ears.

But the silence afterwards was deafening.

“Oscar, can you hear us? Are you alright?”

All that came through was a metallic gargle of noise, a sign that the radio had been damaged in the impact. There was no way to know if Oscar was hurt or not.

A hush fell on the track as the safety car was brought out. Lando had effectively secured his win, with so few laps remaining.

Your eyes were glued to the screen, praying to whatever God would listen that Oscar would be okay. You watched as the marshalls rushed to the site of the car, huddling around the lump of broken parts that stood still on the sidelines.

Because of the force of the crash, the medical car had been deployed as well. You were frozen in place.

You had never been much of a believer in God, but all you could do now was beg.

Please, God. Please let him be okay. If he’s okay I can forgive everything he’s ever done. If he’s okay I will never let him out of my life ever again. Please, God, please let him be safe.

You chanted the prayer over and over again to yourself as the seconds ticked by like hours.

Finally, after an agonizingly long wait, you saw the marshalls carrying along an orange-clad form into the medical car.

You didn’t even think. You just reacted, taking off your headset and booking it towards the medical tent.

You weren’t the only one there, though. The tent was already swarmed with media, all craning their necks to see Oscar. You pushed your way through to the front, only to be stopped by security, since you had your media pass instead of your usual VIP pass as one of Oscar’s friends.

You panicked—to the eyes of security, you were just another reporter who was rudely trying to cut through the crowd to get to the injured driver.

“Please let me by,” you pleaded. “I know Oscar—”

“You can wait at the media tent.”

“C’mon—”

“Ma’am, we need you to leave.” You groaned, and you were about to leave before you heard the voice of your savior from out of nowhere.

“Hey!” he called. You turned your head to see who it was—the familiar, friendly face of Zak Brown.

He was on the other side of the barrier, but Oscar was still nowhere to be found.

“Oh, YN, am I glad to see you!” He turned to the security officer. “Let her in.”

“Sir, media personnel are not authorized—”

“She’s VIP, not media.”

“Sir—”

“Do you know who I am?” he said, an unusual sternness in his tone. The security officer glanced down at his pass and silently let you through.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Zak said, his boyish grin returning as he patted you on the back and led you along to the private area where they’d be bringing Oscar any second now.

You sighed as he pulled the medical curtain closed.

“Boy, was that a nasty crash,” he said.

“Is he okay?”

“Well, he’s alive. That’s as far as I know.”

Your heart sank again. But as if on cue, you heard the rumble of camera shutters and reporters chattering outside the tent as the marshals escorted Oscar into the tent. When he came up, the room was flooded with medical personnel, pushing you and Zak back to the edge of the curtained-off room.

A nurse rushed in. “Who’s his emergency contact?” she asked Zak.

“Her,” he said, gesturing to you. You were confused. Since when had Oscar made you his emergency contact?

“Stay here,” the nurse instructed, but even if you wanted to, you couldn’t move an inch. You resumed your prayers as Zak blabbered on and on, mainly to himself. One thing that you’d learned very quickly about Zak Brown once Oscar had gotten to McLaren is that he really liked to yap.

As the doctors and nurses filtered in and out of the room, you caught a brief glimpse of Oscar in the hospital bed, his eyes rolled back into his head, slumped over into his shoulder.

You wanted to wail.

But it was only a few minutes before everyone began to filter out of the room, creating enough space for you to finally see your friend. And when you did lay eyes on him, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you feared.

His eyes were closed; an attempt to rest, rather than a state of unconsciousness.

A nurse at his bedside turned to you. “Don’t worry. He’s going to be fine. We’re going to sedate him and transport him to a hospital, but he’s not gravely injured. He just needs some tests done that we can’t do here.”

You nodded along, not once taking your eyes off Oscar.

“And, yes, you are his emergency contact, so we’ll need you to come with us. He’s authorized you to make decisions in the event that he's unable to. But that is unlikely, of course.”

“Is he…?” you asked, gesturing towards him.

“He’s still a little shaken up. The best thing right now is to get him into a calmer environment.”

You nodded. “I’ll make sure that new guy doesn’t lose all your stuff,” Zak quipped, and you threw a smile out towards him. “I’ll meet you all there when we’ve wrapped up here.”

Ah yes, the grand prix was likely still going on outside, and Lando would have to climb the podium and take his P1 trophy home.

But as you sat in a hospital room in Italy next to your best friend, the podium was the last thing on your mind.

Oscar was still completely out of it. The doctors had come and gone, confirming that all of his tests had come back normal. No broken bones, no concussion, nothing major. Just a shit ton of bruises and a shock to the system that left him too exhausted to stay awake for more than 15 minutes at a time.

Outside, the sun was setting, but you couldn’t sit still. You held Oscar’s limp hand in your own, tracing patterns into the cold skin. You hadn’t held his hand since you were kids—no, Oscar had held your hands above your head as he pinned you to the wall only weeks ago.

You flung the memory away. Now wasn’t the time. Besides, you promise you’d forgive all that.

Either way, you couldn’t focus on that now. Oscar’s eyelashes were fluttering open, his eyes squinting at the fluorescent light above him.

“Osc!” you said, truthfully too energetic for the occasion. You dropped his hand, got up, and turned off the overhead light, leaving only the swiftly fading daylight from outside the window to illuminate the room.

He groaned as you sat back down, but still mumbled a small thanks.

“Where am I?” he asked, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes.

“A hospital in Imola.”

“Shit,” he sighed.

“Yeah. You had a pretty bad crash.”

“I remember that,” he said, his throat dry and cracked. He took a sip of water. “Lando brake checked me.”

“Is that what happened? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah. Fucker,” he cursed, his voice dripping with contempt. You didn’t know what to say.

“How are you feeling?” you finally said, tired of the lingering tension.

“Awful. Everything hurts.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” he said, reaching for his call button to request painkillers. “I’ve missed you.”

It was bold, doing this when he knew you couldn’t exactly be cruel to him. So, instead, you were honest.

“I’ve missed you too. I’m just glad you’re okay,” you said, reaching forward to smooth his hair away from his sweat-stained forehead. Your touch felt better than any painkiller. “We were really scared.”

“Nah, you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon,” he joked as the nurse arrived and wordlessly administered his meds. He let out a sigh as he felt the painkillers enter his system. “I run on pure spite. A little wall isn’t gonna take me out.”

You gave him a small smile. “You didn’t say anything after the crash,” you said, your voice just a quivering whisper, giving away the true depths of your fear.

“I had the wind knocked out of me. And then, everything just went black, I was fading in and out.”

“I was praying you’d be okay. It was so scary.”

“Hey, I’m okay. A little busted up, but I wasn't exactly a looker anyway, huh?” he joked, a feeble attempt to make you laugh. You sniffled and smiled.

He continued, “Can I use my near-death experience as an excuse for us to make up?”

Your smile dropped and you bit your lip. “Osc…”

“I just want my friend back,” he said, cutting you off. “Look, I can’t be the boyfriend you deserve. Not right now, at least. And I think, after all the shit I did, you wouldn’t want me to anyway. But I miss my friend.”

“I miss my friend, too.”

Your heart to heart was interrupted by a knock at the door. The same nurse from before poked her head in. “Excuse me?” she asked in an Italian accent, and you looked up. “There is a visitor asking to be let in. She said her name is Lily?”

You couldn’t help the face you made. What on God’s green Earth was Lily doing in Imola?

“Um, yeah, let her in,” Oscar said. He didn’t react, though you scooted away and sat at the edge of your seat, ready to leave at any second. “Stay,” he whispered to you, and you did.

A few moments later, you saw her walk in, and the atmosphere was thick.

“Hi Oscar,” she exhaled, grateful to see him okay. He greeted her back, but she didn’t even look at you. You got up to give them a moment, but Oscar reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Don’t go,” he said, and the look in his eyes was impossible to refuse. You tentatively sat back down.

“How are you feeling?” Lily asked, and the two exchanged pleasant conversation back and forth. You wanted nothing more than to jump out of the window that now showed the sunset over the trees. Normal visiting hours would be ending soon.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” she said, getting up to leave. “I’m glad you’re doing well. You too, YN,” she added on the end, but you didn’t believe it. You gave her a flat but polite smile.

“Actually, YN, could we have a word?” she asked, cocking her head in the direction of the hallway.

The look on Oscar’s face told you that this was a horrible idea. But one of you was confined to a hospital bed, and the other wasn’t. You ignored him and followed Lily into the deserted hallway.

She turned to you, voice full of venom. “How long have you been sleeping with Oscar?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she said, plain as day.

“I’ve told you before, Oscar never cheated on you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You turned your head in confusion. “What are you getting at?”

Lily angrily sighed. “You think that you can just waltz around the paddock talking shit about me with Lando, and that I’m not going to hear about it?”

Had Lily been at the paddock? Or even worse: had she somehow heard you?

“Well, if you actually heard my conversation with Lando, you’ll know that I stood up for you.”

“I thought you were a girl’s girl,” she said, deflecting from your defense.

“I am.”

“Then why were you in bed with my boyfriend 4 days after we broke up?”

“Your ex boyfriend,” you said, meeting her level of venom. “You left him.”

“I just thought, after all that talk, you’d have the decency not to prove me right.”

“Lily, I was honest with you. If you’re mad at Oscar, don’t take it out on me. He’s the one who suggested it. I told him it was a bad idea.”

“But you did it anyway.”

“And I felt horrible about it. So I stopped.” Your voice was sharp. “Who told you any of this?”

“It doesn't matter. I hope you’re happy.”

“I hope you are, too. Genuinely.” You lacked the words to say what you really wanted to. He treats both of us like shit. He used us. I am not your enemy. She wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. She wordlessly walked away, scoffing and mumbling to herself.

You didn’t say anything either as you walked back into the hospital room and slumped in the chair.

“I’m guessing that didn’t go well?” Oscar said.

“Nope.”

“Well, we were in the middle of something…”

Oh, right. The conversation where Oscar was trying to get back in your pants.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Oscar.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“We can let anything lead to that. Not again.”

“I understand,” he said. “I just want my friend back in my life. Like all of that never happened.”

“Could we even do that?” you asked. It felt like a line had been crossed, moving your friendship in a way that couldn’t be undone.

“I promise. And I know my word doesn’t mean much, but really, I promise. Never again.”

Haven't you promised that you’d forgive him?

“Okay,” you said, “Okay.”

Oscar smiled at you, showing off his bunny teeth. You still loved him. You couldn’t help it. But true to form, you could never stay away.

“Oh, and by the way, congrats on Miami.”

You fell asleep in the chair, having refused to leave Oscar’s side. He’d be discharged in the morning to make his flight back to Monaco, though it was questionable whether or not he’d be able to race in the iconic Grand Prix.

True to his word, though, Oscar got one final set of visitors in the dead of night.

The first was Zak Brown.

“Oscar!” Zak yelled, before Oscar shushed and pointed to your sleeping form. You stirred but didn’t fully wake, and Zak placed his hand over his mouth and raised his eyebrows as Oscar let out a quiet laugh.

“Hey Zak,” he said, his voice hushed.

“Glad to see you’re doing better.”

“Yeah, I made it,” he mused. “Hey, what did the FIA say?” Oscar’s phone had died since you had fallen asleep, and his charger had been left at the track.

Thankfully, Zak had brought his (and your) belongings, and he placed the bag at the foot of the hospital bed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the penalty, from the crash?”

“No one got a penalty.”

“But, Lando brake checked me.”

“Lando barely avoided a crash with Stroll.”

“I know, but he didn’t swerve, he slowed down. He had room to swerve, I didn’t. How did no one get a penalty?”

“That's just racing.”

“He intentionally slowed down to stop me!”

“Oscar, I highly doubt that that’s what happened. It was a crowded track, and you all had to react in a split second. These things happen, you know this.”

Oscar wasn’t at all pleased with this answer, and it was worsened by the appearance of his second visitor: Lando himself.

“Ah, there’s our grand prix winner!” Zak said, giving him a hearty pat on the back.

Lando smiled, and Oscar wanted to throw up.

“Had to bring it home for the team,” he said, smiling at Zak. “You doing alright, mate?” he asked.

Oscar was already tired of people asking him how he was feeling. “I’m fine,” he said.

“Lando gave Stroll an earful after the race.”

“Oh yeah, probably getting fined for that one…”

“Why? I didn’t crash because of Stroll. You brake checked me.” The pain was making Oscar more irritable. He’d need another dose of meds soon.

“No, Stroll was driving like an idiot out there, I had to slow down.”

“No, you had to move. You’re not stupid. You just didn’t want me to overtake, didn’t you?”

“Okay, boys, let’s save this for the track,” Zak interjected. Oscar just grumbled. “I’ll meet you outside, yeah?” he said to Lando, who nodded but stayed behind.

The Brit glanced at you, still fast asleep in the chair by Oscar’s bedside. “D’you tire out your babysitter?” he smiled.

But Oscar was relentless. “Don’t talk about her.”

“I thought you all weren’t on speaking terms?”

“Lando, mind your business.”

“I don’t know what your problem is, mate.”

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

“I’m not up to anything. I’m just trying to be a good teammate. Jesus, Osc, they should check that you didn’t hit your head too hard, you’re so paranoid.”

Truthfully, Oscar was bluffing. He had a horrible feeling about his teammate, but no evidence to back it up. But his intuition was hardly ever wrong.

“I ran into Lily after you left,” Lando said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told her you were here.” His tone of voice was so gentle that Oscar began to wonder if maybe he was being too paranoid.

“Yeah, she came by earlier.”

Lando’s eyes glanced back to your sleeping form, and Oscar felt his anger rise again. He didn’t even want Lando to look in your direction, let alone be speaking to you.

“Your heart rate is up,” Lando said, gesturing to the monitor that now showed the physical effects of Oscar’s anger.

“Look, Lando,” Oscar said, shifting to sit up in bed. “Stop acting like we’re friends. Stop talking to YN, stop trying to play this buddy-buddy game. We’re here to beat each other.”

“I was just trying to be kind, but I guess if you really don’t want to be friends, I can’t make you.”

“I’m serious. Leave YN alone. Don’t even go there.”

“She’s an adult.”

“And she’s mine.”

Lando laughed. “Seriously? That’s not exactly what she told me.”

The monitor beeped again as Oscar’s heart rate continued to rise. “I don’t care what she told you.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Try it. See what happens.”

A nurse gently knocked on the door, and Oscar was grateful for the distraction and relief of pain meds.

“Well,” Lando said, leaning on the door, “I guess I’ll see you all in Monaco.”

361 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 13 hours ago

Text

Hold You Tight: Part 18

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 17 | Series Masterlist | Part 19

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You open up to Bucky before he meets your friends.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon elements, heavy petting, tension, kissing, inner turmoil, backstory, reference to unsupportive parents, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Waking up in Bucky’s arms felt different than it had the night before. This morning felt a bit easier and, dare you think, it was natural. A hand moved up and down your back, but it was more of a soothing motion than trying to turn you on. It was so comfortable that it almost put you back to sleep.

“Morning,” he whispered against your forehead.

“Morning,” you whispered back, waiting for him to inevitably start groping you. He didn’t. “Wait, you’re not dry humping me today?”

He let out a sleepy chuckle. “Not unless you want me to,” he teased, leaning back to gaze at you.

You looked at him, too. It was the most relaxed and well rested you had seen him look since you met. And the happiest. You being in the penthouse really made a difference in the dangerous man.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, brushing a finger along your cheek.

“Yeah,” you answered. You hadn't meant to fall asleep in the living room, but he didn't seem to mind. “Did you?”

“I did.” He sat up after a moment and stretched. “I’m actually kind of glad we didn't sleep in our bed.”

“Why is that?” you asked.

“Because we haven't made love yet,” he answered in a low voice.

You ignored the heat flowing from your core. “I’m kind of surprised you're holding out,” you said. With the way he always had to touch you and the filthy things that spewed from his mouth, he had to be a ticking time bomb.

Your reaction to him surprised you, too. It was just days ago when you wretched from just the stress of him blowing up your life and everything. Yet last night, you got yourself on his thigh with his encouragement and you willingly slept in his arms. Did that say more about you or him?

He sighed. “Once I have you I won't be able to stop. That’s how much I want you and will keep wanting you,” he admitted, separating himself from you more. “But I want your trust and forcing you into bed won't build it. We’ll be back at square one.”

You blinked slowly. Bucky pushed your boundaries one second and backed off the next. He tore through your walls and rebuilt them just as quickly. The man was a puzzle you feared you’d never figure out.

“It isn't just my trust that you want from me,” you said. That wouldn’t be enough for him. “You want me to love you.”

His eyes bore into yours and it felt like he was letting a wall down for you. “Yes, I do want you to love me,” he said, his voice thick. “I want a life with you and whatever exists beyond that.”

You swallowed. The air was too thick in the room, the emotions raw. He wanted you to love him even after you were gone from this world. “Your Pisces is showing again,” you whispered like it was a secret.

“Well, you did say I was intense, passionate, and I want to be close to the person I fall for,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your lips and helping you slowly stand. “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

“I guess not,” you agreed, looking around. You hadn’t checked your phone at all since you went to his place. “What time is it?”

“Still early. Why don’t we have breakfast and then you can get ready for your day out?” he suggested.

That brought a smile to your face. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

His smile wasn’t as bright as yours as he led you to the kitchen and helped you take a seat at the island. “Eager to spend the day away from me?”

He sounded so sad you almost went to him to hug him. “I’m eager to spend the day with my friends,” you corrected him, watching him move around the kitchen with ease. “They’re kind of like sisters to me.”

“Sisters.” He paused and looked at you with a careful eye. “Do you realize you’ve never talked about your family with me? Not once.”

You kept a neutral expression, but you wrung your hands together in your lap. You were surprised it took him this long to point that out. “There isn’t much to say.”

He set two mugs on the coffee maker. “I think there is,” he said, facing you again. “You always mention your friends, your coworkers, Mrs. Crandle, and there’s always affection and love there, but never your parents. Why not?”

If he dug into your life the way he said he had, surely, he knew in some capacity. And it was too early to discuss them, but he would ask again later if you brushed it off. “Because they’re not exactly proud to have me as a daughter,” you sighed, trying not to reflect too deeply on that.

His mouth was set in a grim line. “Why not?” he all but snarled.

You shrugged and avoided his gaze. “I was just never good enough, you know? Whether it was my grades or sports or anything I tried, I was never… exceptional or special. Even when I did well at something it wasn't enough. It was always a toss-up between disappointment and indifference,” you explained. Your accomplishments weren't anything of importance in their eyes. “And when I said I wanted to be a florist I was pretty much told that my life was…” you paused. You weren’t going to cry. “A waste.”

“A waste?” The murderous expression on his face oddly brought you more comfort. “But you are exceptional. You lead with kindness and a good heart when it’s easier to be cruel or jaded. Your kindness saved my mom, and she knew you were special,” he said, shaking his head as he rounded the island. “It’s no wonder you never talk about them. It also explains more of why compliments make you feel uncertain.”

“It’s okay, Bucky,” you whispered.

Your parents weren’t bad people. They never raised a hand to you, and they gave you what you needed to survive in life, but not much else beyond that. No encouragement or affirmations of love. If you disappeared tomorrow, they wouldn’t know. You were invisible.

It was fine. You accepted a long time ago that you weren’t special in their eyes. The life you made in the city with your other loved ones was enough to give you a sense of family and it didn’t take away from the fact that you still loved your parents, but you refused to be like them. You’d still find ways to put kindness out into the world. You’d make others smile if you could. It wasn’t always much, but maybe it would make a difference in some way to someone.

And, well, who you were and what you did made a difference if you asked Bucky.

“It’s not okay,” he argued, framing your face. The intensity didn’t frighten you this time when you looked into his eyes. “And I’m so sorry I brought it up.”

“It really is okay,” you softly said, wondering how he got you to open up again. You would’ve had to talk about it sooner or later and there were people who grew up with much worse. “But you really think I’m exceptional? I’m just-”

He put his fingers to your lips, the thunderous look back on his face. “Don’t you dare say you’re just a florist or I’ll put you over my knee.”

Your eyes widened. He was serious. “I’m just… really hungry for breakfast?” you tried.

He exhaled deeply. “I’ll make sure you’re well fed,” he promised, going back to the task at hand. His shoulders were still stiff as he moved around. “When I compliment you, I mean it. And when I say you’re special or exceptional or anything else, I mean it. I won't let anyone make you feel less than what I know you are.”

Your chest tightened. “I know,” you whispered. The subtle threat to the cook for insulting your taste, beating up John for disrespecting you, he wasn't going to sit by and let people make you feel bad. Maybe one of the reasons he wanted to show you off to his loved ones was so you wouldn't feel invisible.

“Thank you for telling me, Kotyonok. I know that wasn't easy,” he praised.

“Thank you for asking,” you replied, allowing the warmth to settle in your chest.

“But I’m not asking your parent’s permission to marry you,” he blurted out, your eyes rounding. “They lost that privilege when they treated you the way they did.”

“They wouldn’t believe I was marrying you anyway,” you tried to joke. They would recognize immediately how out of your league he was.

“And they don’t need to come to the wedding either,” he snarled, carefully setting your coffee down in front of you when he looked close to throwing something. “It’ll be a small ceremony anyway. Just close friends and loved ones who matter.”

Your heart did a funny flutter. A small ceremony was exactly what you wanted. “Well, if my dad isn’t there, who will give me away?”

“Thor,” he answered without skipping a beat.

You burst out laughing, surprising both of you. The blonde would probably strut down the aisle. “I barely know Thor, but I feel like he'd probably shout something like ‘All rise for the soon-to-queen of the 107th’,” you mocked in what was a terrible impression of Thor.

Bucky laughed, too. “Not the best impression, Kotyonok, but you tried, and he’d probably say something exactly like that.”

“Well, whatever he says, I won’t walk down the aisle in some over the top dress. I want something beautiful, but simple. Same with the ceremony and reception,” you smiled. Something that was you. “And I get the final say in the flowers for obvious reasons.”

His eyes were full of love. Was he picturing you in a wedding gown? “As long as you get to be my wife, our wedding can be whatever you want it to be.”

Your smile slipped. His wife… You hadn’t shut down that you were going to marry him or pointed out how he was once again moving too fast. You even joked about your big day with him. “Um… breakfast?” Anything to distract you.

He had an easy smile on his face as he whipped up something quickly. Minus a quick thank you once he served it, you didn’t say anything else as you ate, and he didn’t push the conversation. Opening up a bit about your family and talking about marriage… Being in the penthouse destroyed your mental and emotional fail-safes.

“I should get ready,” you said, setting your finished plate in the sink and rinsing it.

“Me, too.” You felt him watching you. “If the weather’s nice tomorrow, we can have breakfast on the balcony. Maybe we can make it our routine on nice days.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked.

“If you want to spend the night again,” he casually replied, but you heard the want there. “Especially since we’ll be apart for most of the day.”

“Maybe,” you said. You had planned to just go back to your place once you got back from your day out. “We’ll play it by ear, okay?”

Disappointment showed for just a moment. “You said you’d spend time with me when you got back. That you’d let me know when you got back to the apartment so I could see you.”

“I did say that,” you agreed, remembering your promise when he tried to convince you not to go out today. “But maybe you can stop by the apartment. It could be fun.”

“I guess we’ll play it by ear,” he smiled.

You didn’t wait for him to follow as you went to get ready, but you did pause when you stood in the master bathroom. The left sink clearly belonged to Bucky. His toothbrush, cologne, everything was on that side. The right sink was yours. A toothbrush for you, a new bottle of perfume, deodorant, everything. It was like you were already living there.

You jumped when you felt a pair of lips on the side of your neck, your eyes meeting Bucky’s in the mirror. You hadn’t heard him come in, too distracted by your reality continuing to sink in. “I’ll miss you today,” he whispered, holding your hips.

“I’m not gone yet,” you whispered. You were there with him, in his grip. His touch would linger after he let go.

“I really hate having to share you,” he murmured, dragging his lips to your ear as your heart raced. “But I thankfully don’t have to share all of you.”

You gripped the sink when he snaked a hand between your legs. “Bucky,” you gasped.

“I know it’s selfish to ask when you’re spending time with your friends, but think of me,” he said, rubbing you through your pajamas and pressing his hips firmly against yours. Did being this close to you always make him hard? “Think of how much I want you.”

Your back arched when the metal hand moved to your breast and gently squeezed. You wanted to look away, but his reflection pulled your gaze to it. Trapping you, the way he had you trapped between him and the sink.

“Think of how much I need you,” he whispered, nipping your earlobe when you whimpered. The more he rubbed your pussy through the clothes the wetter the fabric got, the heavier your breathing became, and the more your head spun. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered. It didn’t matter where you went or who you were with, he’d find a way to seep into your thoughts.

He moaned, his nose moving along your neck before he stopped rubbing you. “That’s my girl.”

You didn’t let go of the sink when he stepped away, your body slightly shaking as you came down from the high he built within. “And you’ll think of me?”

“I’m always thinking of you, Kotyonok,” he said, running a comb through his hair like he didn’t have a raging hard-on. “Always.”

You believed him. “Are you… going to take care of that?” you asked.

He glanced at his crotch with a smirk. “I probably should.” He leaned over and kissed your temple. “I’ll put some music on so you won’t have to hear me this time.”

“How considerate.”

“I’m a considerate guy,” he winked, leaving you alone in the bathroom.

“How do guys walk like that?” you muttered.

You waited until you heard the music start before you went through your routine. He’d likely moan your name at some point while he jerked off. At least he let you be so you could get ready and change into your dress. He said he wanted your trust, but he still found ways to touch you and wind you up. The tension was going to snap at some point and you wondered just how soon.

Looking at yourself in the mirror once you were ready, you tried to smile. You looked admittedly beautiful and felt confident for a fun day out. Did any of that have to do with Bucky?

You emerged after hiding in the bathroom long enough and stared as you saw Bucky in the bedroom. You half expected him to be in bed jerking off or doing something else, but he was dressed for the day. Head to toe in black with his hair slicked back, he looked impeccable as always. The expensive watch and pinky ring fit him well. Did he ever dress down? Why did he have to look so handsome?

“Wow,” he said when he caught you staring. “You look… so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you said, your cheeks warm as he crossed the room toward you.

Your eyelids fluttered when he placed a gentle kiss on your lips and put something in your hand. When did he grab your phone? “Ray’s going to follow you from Addison’s place.”

It was nice that Ray would be the one to go today and not someone else. “Oh, okay,” you said, checking real quick to make sure you didn’t have any missed calls or messages. “You really know where Addison lives then?”

The subtle smirk made your throat go dry. “Let’s go.”

As he led you out, you wondered if Zemo also knew where any of your friends lived. He got to Mrs. Crandle, but didn’t harm her. Would he do anything else? Glancing at Bucky, the men almost seemed to be two sides of the same coin. The difference was that Bucky thought he loved you and he knew how much your friends meant to you.

A text from Addison came through and broke you from your thoughts. “We’ll be waiting outside!”

“On my way!” you sent back. “They’ll be waiting outside,” you told Bucky.

“The plus side of dropping you off is I get to meet your friends before Addison’s wedding,” Bucky smiled. “Do you think she’ll be the maid of honor for our wedding? I already know Steve will be the best man.”

Back to talking about your wedding day. “Most likely. And Dana and Gina as bridesmaids,” you said. They’d be so happy and would never know how everything came about.

“You know what would be fun? Cupcakes. All sorts of flavors so everyone has something they want, but we’ll have a small cake for the two of us,” he smiled more, reaching over to take your hand. “And we should have a two week honeymoon. Minimum.”

You almost choked on your breath. The man did say he wouldn’t be able to stop having you once he started. Was this the kind of love you deserved? Obsession? “That’s a long honeymoon.”

“It’s just a start,” he sighed happily. “Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?”

You glanced at him. “Sounds perfect,” you whispered.

He brushed his thumb over your ring finger. “I just need to get the perfect ring on your finger,” he whispered.

You bit your lip and looked out the window. You could’ve brought him back to reality or pulled away, but you didn’t. You did, however, tense up the closer you got to Addison’s place. This was meant to be your fun day out, but it was going to be about Bucky because your friends would see him. They’d ask questions. They’d be excited and happy for you, too.

Once again there’d be no going back.

Bucky tensed up, too, when he parked. The girls were waiting on the sidewalk and you couldn't help but smile. It was good to see them. “Here we are,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “And now that we’re here I don’t want you to get out.”

You took a breath. He couldn’t back out now. “I’ll think of you just like you said. How much you want and need me,” you promised him, giving his hand a squeeze this time. “And before you know it you’ll see me tonight.”

He took a breath, too. “I’ll count the minutes,” he said, getting out. You let out a sigh of relief when he went around and helped you out. He had your cardigan in hand, too. “And I have a surprise for you and your friends.”

“A surprise?” you asked.

“Hey!” you heard Addison call out. She waved happily when you made eye contact. “You’re here!”

“Hey,” you smiled, leaning into Bucky when he slipped his arm around you. “I’m here.”

Addison’s face lit up as you walked toward her with Bucky by your side. “Oh, my God. Is this him?!” she asked.

“Him?! Who is him?!” Dana questioned, sweeping an appreciative look over Bucky. She was in a happily committed relationship but appreciated a good-looking man when she saw one. “Who are you?”

“Yeah, who are you?” Gina added with a raised brow. Showing up with a guy wasn’t like you.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiled charmingly before he gazed at you. “Her boyfriend.”

Your face felt so hot you thought it would catch on fire. He spoke it into existence and made it happen. He weaved the threads of your lives to bring you to this point, to every point.

Addison did an excited little hop. “Yes! Yay! You’re her boyfriend!”

“Yeah, I’m her boyfriend. And you’re Addison, Dana, and Gina,” Bucky smiled, shaking each of their hands. Your blood froze. You never pointed out to him who was who, yet it was another reminder of just how much he knew. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“AHH!” Addison’s excited shriek made you wince. “She mentioned you were coming to the wedding.”

“I am,” Bucky nodded.

Dana’s jaw dropped. “Hold on. A wedding date?! BOYFRIEND?! Holy fucking shit!”

“Why are we just now finding out you have a boyfriend?!” Gina chimed in.

Bucky held his head high. He was loving this, wasn't he? “Um, surprise?” you lamely spoke, taking in the sight of their shocked and thrilled expressions. They were so happy for you and it nearly made you cry.

Bucky chuckled again and held you tighter. “It’s kind of my fault she hasn’t said much about me. It’s still new and I’ve been selfishly monopolizing her time,” he said. They had no idea how true that statement was. “To be honest, I even begged her to hang out with me today because I love spending time with her, but she was really looking forward to hanging out with you ladies.”

The chorus of “aww’s” would’ve been sweet in any other setting, but he was putting them under his spell. “Okay, but seriously, why are you here with us and not hanging out with your new man?” Dana asked, looking over Bucky again. “I’m on your side, Bucky. She could totally ditch us and we’d get it. Really.”

“I promised him I’d see him tonight,” you said quickly, resting a hand on Bucky’s chest. You didn’t want him to take the bait your friend was unknowingly giving him.

“Yes, you did. And I know you’ll have a blast today,” he said, kissing your temple. “Wait, you ladies weren’t planning on driving or taking a cab, were you?”

“We were going to get an uber or something once my cousin got here,” Addison said.

“Oh, no, no. You can’t take an uber to the winery. That’s your ride,” Bucky said, nodding across the street when a limo pulled up. “My treat.”

You gasped. So did your friends. “Oh, my god. Bucky?” When did he arrange that?

“Surprise,” he smiled, sneaking in a kiss. “And you don’t have to worry about paying for drinks or your meals today either. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“Holy shit. Are you loaded or something?” Dana blurted out.

“Dana!” Gina hissed. You almost laughed. Dana had no filter, but she meant well. “What she meant was ‘thank you’.”

“It’s fine. Believe it or not, I actually own The 107th, but I don’t really like to brag about it.” Bucky casually shrugged. You stared at him before sneaking another glance at your friends. They were intrigued and completely buying what a ‘sweet’ guy he was. “There is one small catch though, if you don’t mind.”

Addison raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

“Kotyonok, can you hand her your phone so she can get a photo of us?” he asked, pulling you closer against him and curling his lips in a small smile. “That’s the catch.”

“Oh, my god. He has a sexy nickname for her and everything,” Dana loudly whispered as you handed your phone over.

“A free limo ride with paid food and drinks if we take a photo of you two together? That’s not a catch at all. That’s so sweet!” Addison held the phone up as you tried to put on your best smile. Like it was a normal love story. “One, two, three!”

You stood still for a few seconds before you stole a glance at Bucky. He was looking at you, too, and leaned in for a tender kiss. It was a loving gesture, but you knew it to be possessive, too. Your friends weren’t a threat to your relationship, but Bucky would have all of your attention if he had his way.

“He’s totally enamored,” Dana whispered again.

“I think they can hear you,” Gina whispered back.

“Okay, you two are so photogenic,” Addison swore, handing your phone back. Your breath caught as you swiped through the photos. You two looked like you were in love. How did the camera not catch any of your fear or uncertainty?

Your friends didn’t see it either. All they saw was a happy new couple. Maybe it was better that way.

“I’m not the photogenic one. She is,” Bucky smiled, giving you one more kiss. “Do you mind sending me those, please? Maybe I can frame one of them.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the additional chorus of “aww’s”. “Sure.” You sent them immediately so he wouldn’t hound you for them later.

Bucky checked his phone when it went off. “Perfect,” he whispered. You thought your friends were going to swoon. “You’ll have to let me know how the winery is. I may have to do an event there in the future.”

Addison smiled and looked between the two of you. “Well, you could check the place out yourself if you want.”

Your heart plummeted and your best friend missed the pleading look in your eyes. “I don’t think-”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that. It’s your day out and me being there makes it feel like I’m crashing the party or keeping tabs on my girl,” Bucky said, rubbing your side.

Your mouth fell open. Were you in the twilight zone? All he ever did was keep tabs on you.

Glancing at the limo, you spotted Ray’s vehicle parked behind it. He couldn’t exactly get out and introduce himself without drawing suspicion because what excuse would he have to be there that your friends would buy? But he did say he could avoid being seen, and you had a feeling he’d still manage to keep a close eye on you today.

“Well, you know we’re going to spend the whole limo ride over hounding her about this new chapter of her love life,” Gina teased.

“I have no doubt,” Bucky winked. “I just hope I’ve made a good impression because she means the world to me and I know she values your opinions.”

“As long as you treat her well. Otherwise, we’ll have to get rid of you.” Addison gave him a hard stare before she smiled. “But I think it’s safe to say you’ve passed the first impression test with flying colors.”

You deflated a bit. That was what you were afraid of. It was better that way. It meant they were safe from Bucky’s wrath.

“I’ll treat her like a queen,” Bucky promised. Whether you wanted it or not. “My girl deserves nothing less than that.”

“You two really are a good looking couple,” Dana noted, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’ll bet the photographer snags some photos of you two at the wedding because how could they not?”

Bucky put a hand on his chest. “I’d love more photos of the two of us, but the focus should be on Addison and Brady since it’s their day.”

He knew all the right things to say.

“You’re too kind.” Addison smiled before her phone went off. Looking at the screen, she groaned. “Of course. My cousin’s just going to meet us there, so I guess we can go?”

“I’ll walk you over,” Bucky offered.

He dug his fingers in enough for you to feel it and you noted the stiffness in his stance as he walked you across the street. Sending you off with your friends was a lot for him, but he had to deal with it. With Ray close by he wouldn’t have to worry about your safety either.

“Thanks again for the limo, Bucky. That was really nice of you,” Addison said.

“No thanks necessary. Just have fun today and drink plenty of water if you do lots of sampling,” he said, pulling you against him before you could get into the limo with your friends. He looked so lost for a split second and immediately leaned into your touch when your hand rested on his cheek. “I love you, Kotyonok. Think of me,” he whispered.

You initiated a gentle kiss which he quickly deepened. It didn’t last long since he had to let you go, but it lingered for both of you. “I will, Bucky.”

You’d think of him after he helped you into the limo. He’d occupy your mind on the drive over. And you’d once again miss the other pair of eyes watching you as you tried to enjoy your day.

Let's hope the day is a fun one. Who is watching? What's Bucky going to do while you're gone? How excited will Thor be when he hears the big news? 😂 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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fear-less · 2 days ago

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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 what letter? sirius, what letter?

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, you never planned on talking to james ever again, not after your last encounter with him. Luckily Sirius saves the day.

an: omg last chapter, and its my fav.... hopefully this convinces some of y'all to watch anne with an e....I LOVE awae. ALSO!! i’m going to start writing all requests in my inbox, send some! i’m gonna start with the oldest then the more recent ones! also, im not ignoring your request if it takes a while😭 i’ll be writing then get stuck on what to do then move onto the next thing… bad habit but😭

Warnings: angst, fluff, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), another letter James wrote gets lost ayyyyy, literally that's all…

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

It was now June, the end of your final year at Hogwarts. The castle, which had been your home for the past seven years, seemed to hum with the bittersweet energy of goodbyes. If you had told your eleven-year-old self that you’d be leaving these halls without James, she would’ve been heartbroken—devastated, even.

Back then, you’d believed in the stories. You’d believed that the boy who made your heart race would be the one you’d leave Hogwarts with, hand in hand, ready to take on the world together. But life had a way of unraveling those childish dreams, weaving something far more complicated in their place.

James hadn’t spoken to you since that night—since you’d spilled your heart out and he’d told you to marry Finn. It wasn’t anger or malice that kept you apart, but a quiet, mutual understanding that too much had been said, and yet not enough to bring you back to where you were before.

You told yourself it was better this way.

Finn was everything a girl could hope for: kind, considerate, and endlessly patient. He never pressured you for answers when your mind drifted during a conversation, never asked why you’d go quiet whenever someone mentioned James. You were grateful for that. But as the end of term feast approached, with the prospect of leaving Hogwarts forever hanging over you, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything left unsaid.

James sat at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by his friends, but the usual Marauder energy was dampened. He’d won the Quidditch Cup, aced his N.E.W.T.s, and had offers from the most prestigious Quidditch teams waiting for him. By all accounts, he should’ve been ecstatic. But as he watched you sitting across the Great Hall, laughing softly at something Finn said, James felt hollow.

He’d told himself he was doing the right thing. That night in the common room, when you’d asked him if there was a chance for the two of you, he’d convinced himself that pushing you toward Finn was what you deserved. Stability. A future he couldn’t promise.

But watching you now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made a mistake.

“Mate,” Sirius said quietly, nudging James with his elbow, “you’re staring again.”

James tore his gaze away, his jaw tightening. “I wasn’t staring,” he muttered, though his friends knew better.

“You’ve got one night left,” Sirius continued, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “If you’re going to do something about this, now’s your chance.”

James shook his head, laughing bitterly. “What am I supposed to do? Walk up to her, tell her I’m an idiot, and beg her to take me back? She’s with Finn now, Pads. She’s happy.”

“Is she?” Remus asked quietly, his eyes flicking to you. “Because from where I’m sitting, she looks like someone who’s convincing herself she’s happy.”

James didn’t respond for a while, this was his last chance of seeing her–he couldn’t lose her.

“You're right. I’m going to see her tonight. I’ll tell her that I missed what she was trying to tell me!” James said, now in a bit of a better mood.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Once night fell, James made his way to your dormitory. He prayed no one but you would be there. Out of your four roommates, he only knew two, and he’d seen them sitting in the common room without you. That meant you had to be in your dorm, right?

The corridors were quiet but not empty. Most of the dormitory doors were open, with people wandering in and out. It didn’t take long for him to find your door—how could he forget it when he’d been inside so many times before?

James stepped in cautiously, but his heart sank when he realized the room was empty. You weren’t there. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. This was supposed to be it—the last time he’d ever get a chance to talk to you—and you weren’t even here.

His eyes wandered to your side of the room. It was unusually tidy, and most of your belongings were already packed away. The only things left were a few scattered pieces of parchment, a quill, an inkpot, and an envelope on the desk.

Before he even realized what he was doing, James sat down at your desk. His hand hovered over the parchment for a moment before he began to write, his thoughts spilling out faster than he could process them.

“Dear… (Y/N),” he murmured to himself as the words took shape. “I’m sorry... I was confused before. I’m not anymore. I love you. –James.

P.S. May I please... have Buddy back?”

James smiled faintly as he reread the last part. Buddy was the stuffed animal you’d gifted him on his birthday before you’d snatched it back after losing a bet. If things didn’t work out, at least he’d have something to remind him of what you two once had. Maybe he’d even pass it on to his future child—if he had one.

He quickly folded the note, wrote your name on it and placed it neatly on your desk.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

You’d spent almost the entire day with Finn, and at first, everything seemed fine. But, as always, the cracks begin to show, and yet another argument erupted.

“Do you not trust me?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended, though the bitterness behind it was impossible to hide.

“No, I don’t. No man would if they were in my place!” Finn shot back, his tone defensive, the edge in his words cutting deeper than he realized.

You scoffed, the sting of his accusation hitting harder than you wanted to admit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you need to stay away from James,” he said, his voice rising. “Someone told me they saw you two talking alone in a corridor. I know you used to be good friends, but you haven’t spoken in months. You’ve never told me why, so I can only assume the worst!”

“We stopped talking for a reason I don’t even understand myself!” you fired back, your frustration bubbling over, your voice shaking with the weight of the truth.

Finn’s expression darkened, his lips curling into a bitter frown. “Yeah, sure. I totally believe you. He definitely didn’t distance himself because he fancies you. He looks at you the way I do.”

His words were a gut punch, the weight of his jealousy and mistrust pressing down on you. For a moment, you stood frozen, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, taking a deep, steadying breath, you decided you were done dancing around the truth.

“He doesn’t fancy me,” you said, your voice trembling, though you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “And I know that for a fact. Since you want honesty, fine. I dragged James out of that party. I told him…” You hesitated, but the words came spilling out before you could stop them. “I told him how much I love him. That I’d leave you if he wanted me to. And do you know what he said?”

Finn’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, so you pressed on, tears now streaming freely down your face.

“He told me you’re a great guy. That I deserve you. He didn’t even tell me he loved me back.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Finn stood there, his expression unreadable, his jaw set like stone. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, hurt, or simply done. After what felt like an eternity, he turned on his heel and walked out without a word, leaving you alone in his empty dormitory.

You stood there for a moment, stunned, as the weight of what had just happened settled over you. Was this the end of whatever fragile future you’d tried to build with Finn? You didn’t know. All you knew was that the room felt stifling, the air too thick to breathe.

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you pulled yourself together enough to leave. Sitting here, drowning in your own thoughts, wasn’t going to help. You needed air, a distraction—anything to stop the whirlwind in your mind.

The cool night air greeted you as you made your way to the Black Lake. The walk was long, but with every step, your nerves began to settle. The gentle lapping of the water and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze worked to quiet the storm in your head, if only for a little while.

As you stood by the Black Lake, the moonlight dancing across the rippling water, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep your emotions from unraveling. Finn's words echoed in your mind, but instead of providing any sense of resolution, they left you with a heavier burden of confusion and regret.

You had laid everything bare—your feelings for James, your failed attempt to move on with Finn—and now, for the first time in ages, you felt unmoored. The certainty you’d desperately tried to force, the future you envisioned with Finn, had shattered. All that remained were questions, unanswered and painful.

You closed your eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over you, as though trying to cleanse the ache that lingered in your chest. Your heart still aches for James, despite everything. But what was the point in holding onto hope? He had made his feelings—or lack thereof—clear. And now Finn, the only thread that had tied you to some semblance of stability, was slipping away too.

After what felt like an eternity of sitting there in solitude, you made your way back to Hogwarts. When you reached your dorm, you didn’t bother tidying the mess on your desk. The next person who would stay there would find scattered pieces of parchment, half-used ink, and a neglected quill—unless the house-elves came to clean and dispose of it all.

You opened your luggage, only to realize you’d packed everything, leaving no clothes behind for the night or morning. That’s when your eyes landed on the small stuffed bear. A wave of emotions washed over you at the sight of it. You wiped away the tears you hadn't even realized had been falling. Sniffling, you stood up and made your way to the washroom to shower, hoping the warm water would wash away at least some of the weight on your heart.

Once you were out of the shower, the thoughts continued to swirl in your mind. After a long pause, you decided to write to James. You didn’t think you could face him—not after he rejected you, not when your emotions were still raw and all over the place.

Dear James, Since we are parting ways, perhaps forever, I feel I must unburden my heart. You are the fond object of my affection and my desire. You, and you alone, are the keeper of the key to my heart. Please don’t be alarmed--I don’t expect your favor--but I can’t, in good conscience, not reveal myself. I’m not engaged--nor will I be--unless, it’s to you, James. It always has been and always will be you.

With love, (Y/N)

PS: Here’s Buddy, in case you want him. I don’t think I can keep him without crying whenever I see him.

As you finished the letter, you sat there, staring at the words that held every ounce of your vulnerability. Your hands trembled as you carefully folded the parchment and slid it into an envelope. For a moment, you hesitated. Doubts surged in your mind—was this the right thing to do? What if he never read it? What if this only made everything worse?

But deep down, you knew it was the only way to find closure. You couldn’t carry these feelings any longer, locked away inside. This letter wasn’t just for him—it was for you too, a way to finally release the emotions that had weighed you down for so long.

You reached for Buddy, the small stuffed bear that had once brought you so much comfort. Seeing him now only reopened old wounds, but at the same time, he reminded you of the love you had for James—the love you still had, even though it wasn’t returned. You hugged Buddy tightly one last time, letting a few tears fall before tucking him into the package with the letter.

You had considered waiting until morning to deliver it, but the thought of sleeping on it felt impossible. You needed to let go of this weight before you could rest. So, once all your roommates were asleep, you slipped out of the dorm and made your way to James' room. The dorm was empty, just as you'd expected. Whenever there was a holiday, the boys would often roam the grounds late into the night, returning well after curfew.

You placed the package—Buddy and the letter—gently on James' bed. You glanced around the room, the usually cluttered space now oddly quiet and foreign. Standing in it alone, you couldn’t shake the feeling of how much had changed. With a final, shaky breath, you turned and left, the door clicking softly behind you as you disappeared into the darkness.

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It was nearing three-thirty in the morning when the boys finally returned. Sirius stumbled in, clearly drunk beyond belief, while Remus went straight to the shower, and Peter collapsed into his bed, too tired to think. James, however, stood frozen in his doorway.

His eyes were locked on a small brown-covered package resting on his bed. Confusion washed over him as he approached. He quickly tore it open, finding a folded piece of parchment with his name written in your handwriting—and Buddy.

His chest tightened with anger. "Oh, really, (Y/N)? You couldn’t even face me? World class!" His voice was laced with frustration as his eyes flicked from the bear to the letter. All he could focus on was how you'd read his letter and now returned Buddy.

You actually gave Buddy back? He remembered you promising, no—vowing—never to part with it, no matter what. Yes, he'd asked for it, but this… this was more than just a simple request.

Without thinking, James ripped the letter apart. His fists clenched around the torn pieces as he made his way into the empty common room. In a fit of rage, he threw the scraps into the fire.

As the flames flickered, a sudden thought struck him, and his stomach dropped. “What if... oh, shit!” he muttered, cursing himself. What if you had come to speak to him, only to find he wasn’t in the dorm, and in desperation, wrote that letter? What if it was your way of telling him that you felt the same, that you regretted everything, and that you still cared?

But now, it was too late. The letter was gone, burned to ash.

James stood frozen, clutching the remaining pieces of the letter in his hands, the ink smudging as he frantically pieced together the broken words:

Parting ways... Don't... Heart... Finn... Engaged... Don't love... Alarmed... Not... Alone... Forever...

What was all of this? Engaged to Finn? You just met him, for Merlin’s sake! And why would you tell him that in the letter? Did you want to make him feel worse, to confirm that you had truly moved on?

The sound of a door creaking open snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Remus stepping into the room, his expression one of quiet surprise. With Sirius and Peter asleep, James saw no reason to keep this to himself any longer. Remus was always the one who could make sense of things, the one who could calm him down when nothing else could.

“Remus, don’t go back to sleep, please," James blurted, pacing in frustration. "I’ve got breaking news! That night at the party? Forget it. Turns out (Y/N) doesn’t love me after all. She wrote me a letter explaining it—and told me she’s engaged to Finn!”

Remus paused, looking at him with wide eyes. “You told yourself—and us—that you would get over her. If she’s really engaged to Finn, then... let’s start now.”

James shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t, Remus.”

“You can, and you will,” Remus said firmly, his tone softer but still resolute. “Once you’re over her, you’ll be able to move on. It��ll be a new chapter, James—one without her in it.”

James’s face twisted in pain. “I want to be happy, Remus. I just can’t. (Y/N) is marrying the man of her dreams, and that man isn’t me.”

Remus sighed, stepping closer to his friend. He knew James too well, and knew how deep this went. “Let’s go to bed,” Remus said gently. “We’ve got an early morning ahead of us. Maybe you’ll have a chance to speak to her tomorrow? Tell her—and the others,” he added, gesturing toward Peter and Sirius, “maybe they’ll have a better plan for you.”

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You were on the train now, staring out the window as the platform slowly filled with students saying their last goodbyes. You were ready to go home—or at least as ready as you could be. Ready to return to your parents, who still thought you were with Finn. The truth of your relationship, however, was far murkier. You and Finn hadn’t officially broken things off, but the silence that followed your last argument felt louder than any words could. It was obvious, even if neither of you had said it out loud.

The weight of everything sat heavily on your shoulders as you watched the scene outside. Friends hugged tightly, some with tears streaming down their faces, while others exchanged laughs and promises to write over the summer. There was a bittersweetness to it all—a kind of closure, even in the goodbyes. But you didn’t feel that closure. Instead, you felt like you were caught in a loop of unresolved emotions and unanswered questions.

You’d managed to find an empty compartment. It wasn’t hard when you were one of the first to board while everyone else lingered, reluctant to leave the castle behind. The quiet was what you needed—time to think, to breathe, to let the ache in your chest settle.

Diana, who's your best friend and practically your sister from how close you two are and your friends had offered to sit with you, but you told them you wanted to be alone. They understood, of course. They always did. You’d confided in them about what had happened with Finn, and while they’d tried to offer their support, you knew this was something you needed to process on your own. They couldn’t fix what was broken—not with Finn, and not with James.

The hum of the train as it prepared for departure filled the air, a low, steady rhythm that somehow felt comforting. You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, watching as more students climbed aboard . You envied the lightness in some of the students—their laughter, their certainty about who they were and where they stood with the people in their lives.

For you, everything felt like it was in limbo. The argument with Finn had left you reeling, unsure of what came next. And then there was James—the boy who had once been your closest friend, who still lingered in your thoughts even after months of strained silence.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment as the train gave a soft lurch, signaling the start of its journey. Home felt both too far away and far too close.

The train began to pick up speed, the platform slowly fading into the distance as the familiar rolling hills of the countryside came into view. You opened your eyes, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The quiet of the compartment wrapped around you like a fragile cocoon, but your thoughts refused to settle.

James. His name echoed in your mind like a song you couldn’t quite forget. You hadn’t seen him at the station, though you’d looked for him instinctively. The habit was hard to break, no matter how strained things had become between the two of you.

You thought back to that day in Finn’s dorm, where everything had shifted. The weight of your confession to Finn, the raw honesty, and the pain that followed. But it wasn’t Finn’s face you pictured now—it was James’s. His messy hair, his lopsided grin, the way his hazel eyes lit up when he laughed. And the way those same eyes had avoided yours for months, the distance between you growing wider with each passing day.

You shook your head, as if the motion could clear your mind. It didn’t. Instead, it only made the ache in your chest deepen. The truth was, you missed him. More than you cared to admit, even to yourself.

It wasn’t just the friendship you missed, though that alone had been a loss. It was the way he’d always been there, the way he could make you laugh even on your worst days, the way he’d look at you like you were the most important person in the world. Somewhere along the way, things had changed, and you weren’t sure if you could ever get back to where you’d been.

The train rattled along the tracks, the countryside blurring past the window. You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you could ward off the coldness that had settled deep in your chest. For a fleeting moment, you wished James were here, sitting across from you like he used to. You could almost hear his voice, teasing you about something silly, his laughter filling the space between you. But the compartment was empty, and the silence felt heavier because of it.

You leaned your forehead against the glass, the cool surface grounding you. Maybe this summer would give you the space you needed to figure things out. Maybe time apart would help you understand what you really wanted, and what you were willing to fight for. But as the train carried you further away from Hogwarts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers you were looking for weren’t waiting for you at home—they were somewhere back there, tangled up in the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You closed your eyes again, letting the rhythmic motion of the train lull you into a state of uneasy calm. The journey home had only just begun, but you already felt like you were carrying the weight of an entire year’s worth of emotions with you. And no matter how far the train took you, there was one thing you couldn’t seem to leave behind: the hope that somehow, someday, you and James could find your way back to each other.

A knock startled you awake. For a fleeting moment, you hoped it might be James, but when you opened the door, it was Diana. Despite your insistence on wanting no company, you never minded hers. You mustered a small smile as she entered.

“So,” Diana began, sitting across from you, “you wrote him a letter saying you still love him?”

“Yes,” you replied softly, avoiding her gaze.

“And he hasn’t talked to you?”

“Mhm.”

“And you called it off with Finn?”

“Well...” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I still need to, but he despises me now. Once I get home, I’ll owl him. He’s... not exactly happy right now.”

“Because of the fight?” Diana’s tone grew sharper. “I know you lied to us. It wasn’t about your parents, was it? If you want to tell me the real reason, just say it.”

You hesitated, your throat tightening. “I... I ruined it with him. He got mad about James, and I snapped. I told him what I told James at the party. He didn’t even say anything; he just stood there, then left. We haven’t spoken since. I haven’t even told my parents yet—I don’t know if he’s told them.”

“Wow...” Diana’s expression was a mix of disbelief and frustration. “And James hasn’t said anything? You went through all that struggle, and he’s just blatantly ignoring you?”

“I know! But maybe I shouldn’t have told him how I felt again. Remember what happened at the party?”

Diana softened, reaching out to touch your hand. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I can’t imagine being in your situation.”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore,” you mumbled, though the lump in your throat betrayed your words.

“Of course it matters!” Diana said firmly. “Finn demanded the truth and then got mad when you gave it to him? That’s not fair!”

“Well, at least I won’t be engaged to him anymore.”

“When did he pro—” Diana started, but her words were cut off as Sirius suddenly barged into the compartment.

None of you had noticed him outside, and you had no idea how long he’d been listening.

“How much did you hear?” Diana demanded, her eyes narrowing.

“Enough to know that (Y/N) is no longer with that Finn bloke,” Sirius replied with a grin that was far too smug for the situation.

“Well, if you’d listened more, you’d also know—” Diana began again, but Sirius interrupted her too.

“(Y/N), have you even tried to speak to James about this?!”

“Had I had the opportunity, I would have,” you shot back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “In fact, I went over—”

“You’ve had every opportunity!” Sirius exclaimed, cutting you off again. You stared at him, then at Diana, who looked just as shocked as you felt.

“Admit it,” Sirius said, his voice rising. “You’ve been smitten with James since the moment you two met! The clues have been everywhere! And don’t deny that you were completely beguiled by him at the party—even though you were dating some random bloke you barely knew!”

“That’s not—” you started, but Sirius plowed on, his words tumbling out in a rush.

“Then you drag James out of the party, demand to know how he feels about you, and give him all of thirty seconds to decide your entire future!”

“Well, that’s because—”

“And worst of all,” Sirius thundered, ignoring you, “you callously ignored the letter James wrote to you, where he told you he loved you!”

If confusion were a person, it would have been you at that moment. You exchanged a bewildered look with Diana.

“What letter?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Even Sirius looked thrown off. “What do you mean, ‘What letter?’”

“Sirius,” you said more firmly, standing now. “What letter?”

“The letter was the whole reason he stopped talking to you!” Sirius snapped. “He put one in your luggage—slipped it into a pocket—and then left another on your desk yesterday!”

You blinked, your mind racing. “Which pocket? I don’t use most of them, and I left everything on my desk at Hogwarts—it was just extra parchment. Why didn’t he just tell me?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Sirius said with a shrug. “But what are you waiting for? Go find James! He’s crying like a bloody baby—that’s the only reason I came to find you. Took me five minutes to track you down!”

You nodded quickly and scrambled to your feet, your heart pounding like a drum. You knew exactly where James would be. After sharing the same train compartment for seven years, you could find it blindfolded, even in your sleep.

Without hesitation, you hurried down the train, determination and nerves tangling in your chest like vines. Your footsteps echoed faintly against the narrow corridor, your mind racing ahead.

Then you froze.

James’ laugh drifted through the crack in the door—warm, familiar, and effortless. It was the kind of laugh that made the world tilt, like gravity had shifted just enough to pull you toward him. The sound wrapped around you, igniting a fire in your chest and a tremor in your hands.

You pressed a shaky palm against the cool surface of the compartment door, drawing in a deep breath.

This is it.

With a steadying exhale, you slid the door open. The soft creak barely registered over the hammering in your ears.

“James,” you began, your voice trembling but determined. “Can we… could we talk? Please. If that’s okay with you?”

James froze mid-laugh, his body stilling like a snapshot in time. His gaze locked onto yours, wide-eyed and searching, as if trying to confirm you were real. Slowly, he nodded, his brow creasing in quiet confusion, curiosity flickering behind his eyes.

You stepped inside and let the door click softly shut behind you, the faint sound reverberating in the small, enclosed space. Here, at the back of the train, there were no prying eyes, no curious ears—just the two of you and the fragile weight of the moment.

For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt electric, thick with unspoken words and barely restrained emotion. James watched you carefully, his gaze tracing your face as if committing every detail to memory.

Your chest tightened, the words caught like a stone in your throat. You’d waited too long, carried this too far. But you couldn’t falter now.

Swallowing the lump of fear, you took a step closer, and then another, until the space between you vanished completely.

You weren’t sure who moved first—if it was him, or you, or maybe both of you at once—but the distance dissolved like it had never been there at all. His hands found your waist as yours slid up to cup his face, and then his lips were on yours. The world outside the compartment disappeared in a rush, the hum of the train fading into nothingness.

It wasn’t frantic or hurried. It was soft, almost tentative at first, like neither of you could quite believe this was real. But then, the kiss deepened, and with it came a flood of emotions—relief, longing, and something you didn’t dare name just yet.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. James’ cheeks were flushed, and his glasses were slightly askew. His lips curved into the smallest, shyest smile you’d ever seen from him. It was a look you wanted to commit to memory.

But the weight of why you were here—the reason you’d sought him out—pressed against your chest, demanding to be spoken to.

You took a deep breath, looking James in the eye as you began. “Sirius told me about the letters. The one in my luggage, the one on my desk… I didn’t even know they existed. I never read them.”

James blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. “You… you never read them?” he repeated, his voice breaking slightly.

You shook your head, your chest tightening as you stepped closer to him. “No. I only found out about them because Sirius barged into my compartment and told me everything. He said you hid one in my luggage, and the other was on my desk, buried under a pile of parchment I never cleaned up. James, I had no idea.”

James ran a hand through his hair, his face clouding with frustration and regret. “Merlin,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “All this time, I thought you knew. I thought you read them and just… ignored me.”

“Why would I ignore you?” you asked, your voice trembling. “James, I didn’t know because I didn’t even think to look. And the letter in my bag—I didn’t even realize there was a hidden pocket until Sirius told me.”

James stared at you, his lips parting as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he managed, “I wrote them because I didn’t know how else to tell you how I felt. I thought if I put it on paper, it’d be easier to say everything I couldn’t say to your face.”

“James, I didn’t read them, but you need to know something,” you said, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I wrote to you too. I wrote you a letter and left it on your bed with Buddy.”

His expression shifted, his brows knitting together in a mix of guilt and realization. “The letter with Buddy,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I tore it up.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and your heart sank. “You… tore it up?” you asked softly, your voice breaking.

James nodded, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I was angry,” he admitted, his tone thick with regret. “I thought you’d moved on, that you didn’t care anymore. I saw Buddy, and I just… I lost it. And when I saw you’d written me a letter instead of talking to me in person—well, I just… I thought you were giving him back to me because you didn’t need him anymore. I thought you were telling me that you were done with me, that you’d let go. So, I tore it up without even reading it.”

You stared at him, your heart heavy with the weight of the misunderstanding. “James, I wasn’t telling you that I was done. I… I was just too scared to face you. After what happened at the party… when you told me to marry Finn… I didn’t think I could bear hearing you reject me again. I didn’t think I could face you after that.”

James' face softened, his brows furrowing with understanding. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I thought I was doing the right thing, telling you to marry Finn, but it wasn’t because I didn’t care. I was trying to push you away, trying to convince myself that it was better if you were happy with him. I couldn’t bear to see you hurting, but instead, I just made it worse.”

You shook your head, your voice catching. “I didn’t think you wanted me, James. You told me to marry Finn, and you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you how I felt. I thought if I wrote the letter, maybe that was my chance to say what I couldn’t say face-to-face.”

James’ breath hitched, and he stepped toward you. “I was wrong. I should have listened to you, should have seen that I was the one hurting you. I was so confused. I didn’t want to lose you, but I didn’t know how to tell you that I felt the same.”

“James, that letter wasn’t about moving on. It was about you. I told you everything—how I felt, how I couldn’t be with Finn because my heart wasn’t his to have. It was yours. It’s always been yours.”

James’ breath caught in his throat as realization washed over him. “You… you said that?”

You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes. “I told you that I loved you. That I’ve always loved you, no matter how much I tried to deny it. And I gave you Buddy because I didn’t think I deserved to keep him anymore.”

James’ face crumpled, and he took a shaky step toward you. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For tearing up your letter, for hiding behind mine, for not saying what I needed to say.”

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “We both made mistakes, James. But I’m here now. And I’m telling you everything because I don’t want to waste another second pretending I don’t care.”

James reached for you, his hands cupping your face as he leaned in. “I love you,” he said, his voice raw and unguarded. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ve been such an idiot for not saying it sooner.”

You let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over you like a tide. “Well, you’re saying it now. That’s all that matters.”

He kissed you then, the world falling away as the weight of years of miscommunication and doubt finally lifted. His lips were warm and familiar, and when he pulled back, both of you were breathless and flushed.

“We’re terrible at this,” James said with a small, rueful laugh, his hands still resting on your cheeks.

“We really are,” you agreed, smiling through your tears. “But we’ve got time to figure it out.”

James grinned, his eyes shining with hope. “Together?”

“Together,” you confirmed, your voice steady and sure.

James kissed you again, slow and tender, as if he was savoring the moment. The warmth of his lips, the familiarity of his touch—it was everything you had wanted, everything you had longed for but been too afraid to claim.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath shaky, both of you flushed from the rush of emotions. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid finally settling between you in a peaceful, unspoken understanding.

“I don’t know how we got here,” James said softly, his voice hushed, as though he was still trying to piece everything together in his mind. “We both made so many mistakes, (Y/N). I hurt you, and I never meant to. I’ve been a coward, hiding behind my letters, my words... not telling you the truth when it mattered.”

You shook your head, gently cupping his face in your hands. “James, we both let fear dictate everything. We were both too scared to face the truth. But we're here now, right? That’s all that matters. We don’t have to figure it all out right this moment. We just have to start somewhere.”

James looked into your eyes, his gaze intense, as if he was memorizing every detail, afraid that if he blinked, the moment might slip away. “I love you, (Y/N),” he said again, this time with complete certainty. “I’ve always loved you.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you laughed softly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I love you too, James. I always have. I was just too afraid to believe it.”

James smiled, a real, unguarded smile, the kind that made his entire face light up. “So... do we get to be happy now?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.

You nodded, the warmth of his hands still holding your face. “Yes,” you whispered. “We get to be happy. Together.”

For a long time, neither of you moved, just stood there in the quiet, the weight of everything finally lifting, as if all the confusion and misunderstandings had just melted away.

James let out a soft laugh, breaking the stillness. “I’m not perfect, (Y/N),” he said, his thumb gently brushing the tear on your cheek. “But if you’ll have me, I’m willing to try.”

You smiled through your tears, your heart full to bursting. “I think we both need to try, James. And we will. Together.”

He kissed you one last time, and this time, it wasn’t hurried or filled with desperation. It was a kiss that held all the promises of a new beginning. The kind of kiss that said, we’ve found our way back to each other.

And when you pulled away, you both stood there, smiling through the tangled mess of emotions that had, somehow, become beautiful in their own way.

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#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshots #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #marauders x reader #harry potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter angst #james potter smut #james potter x reader #james potter #marauders #the marauders #marauders era

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bluebvrry · 2 days ago

Text

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ROMANTIC HOMICIDE⋆

Synopsis -> your heart was aching for affection from your girlfriend but what were you expecting from dating an idol? Now you’re sick of waiting patiently and think it’s time to end it

Parings -> idol!sophia x non-idol!reader

Genre -> angst, lovers to exes

Warnings -> toxic relationship, yelling, breaking up, crying, 3.04k WC, lmk if I missed anything that wasn’t mentioned

A/N -> the song says it all, mood cause I’m trying to move on from my crush 🙂↕️

You'd always known that dating Sophia, the charismatic leader of the global K-pop group Katseye, would come with its challenges. But you'd never expected it to be this hard.

At first, everything was perfect. Sophia was attentive, affectionate, and made you feel like you were the only person in the world. You'd spend hours exploring the city together, holding hands, and laughing until your sides hurt.

But then Katseye's popularity skyrocketed, and Sophia's schedule became increasingly hectic. She'd be gone for weeks at a time, performing in different countries, attending music shows, and endorsing various brands. You'd be left alone, waiting for her to come back, feeling like a ghost hovering on the periphery of her life.

Despite the distance and the stress, you held on, convinced that your love was strong enough to withstand the pressures of Sophia's career. But as the months went by, you started to feel like you were losing yourself in the process.

You were just an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life, while Sophia was a superstar, shining bright in the spotlight. You couldn't help but wonder: were you just a secret, a hidden part of Sophia's life that she kept from the rest of the world?

As you looked around your small apartment, filled with memories of your time together, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. That something was about to change.

You stood outside Sophia's dorm, hesitating for a moment before deciding to go in. You hadn't notified her that you were coming, but you didn't think it would be a big deal. After all, you were her girlfriend, and you'd visited her dorm countless times before.

As you entered the dorm, you were greeted by Sophia's stern expression. She was sitting on her bed, her eyes fixed intently on you.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice low and even.

You were taken aback by her tone. "I just wanted to see you," you replied, trying to sound casual.

Sophia's expression turned incredulous. "You just wanted to see me?" she repeated. "Do you have any idea how reckless that is? Someone could have taken a picture of you entering my dorm, and then what? Dating speculations would be all over the media, and my career would be ruined."

You felt a pang of hurt at her words. You knew that Sophia's career as an idol was important, but it hurt to think that she was more concerned about her public image than about you.

"I'm sorry," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. "I didn't think about that."

Sophia sighed, rubbing her temples. "You never think about that," she said. "You never think about how your actions could affect me, or my career, or my fans."

You felt a surge of defensiveness, but you bit it back. You knew that Sophia was stressed, and that she was just trying to protect herself.

"I'm sorry," you repeated. "I'll be more careful in the future."

Sophia looked at you, her eyes searching. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something else in her expression, something that looked almost like regret.

But then her mask slipped back into place, and she nodded curtly. "Good," she said. "Just be more careful, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You knew that Sophia was still stressed, but at least she wasn't yelling at you anymore.

"I'll go now," you said, turning to leave.

Sophia nodded, her eyes already back on her phone. "Yeah, go."

You left the dorm, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you. You knew that Sophia was busy, and that her career was important, but it hurt to feel like you were just an afterthought to her.

As you walked away from the dorm, you couldn't help but wonder if things would ever go back to the way they were before. When Sophia had time for you, when she laughed with you, when she loved you.

You sighed, shaking your head. You knew that those days were behind you now.

Meanwhile, back in Sophia's dorm, Lara walked in, a look of concern etched on her face.

"Hey, Soph, what's going on?" she asked, nodding towards the door. "I saw your girlfriend leaving, and she looked really upset."

Sophia rolled her eyes, not even bothering to look up. "She just dropped by unannounced," she said. "I had to yell at her."

Lara raised an eyebrow. "You had to yell at her?" she repeated. "Soph, that's not like you. What's going on?"

Sophia sighed, rubbing her temples again. "I don't know, Lara," she said. "I just feel so trapped sometimes. I have to be perfect all the time, I have to smile and wave and pretend like everything is okay, even when it's not."

Lara nodded sympathetically. "I get it," she said. "But maybe you should try talking to your girlfriend about how you're feeling. Maybe she can help you work through some of this stuff."

Sophia snorted. "You think she can handle it?" she asked. "She's just a normal girl, Lara. She doesn't understand what it's like to be in my shoes."

Lara frowned. "That's not fair, Soph," she said. "Your girlfriend loves you, and she's trying to support you. Maybe you should try meeting her halfway."

Sophia raised an eyebrow, her expression incredulous. "You think I should be grateful for her recklessness?" she asked. "She could have ruined my career, Lara."

Lara sighed, shaking her head. "You're not thinking about the bigger picture, Soph," she said. "You're so focused on your career that you're forgetting about the people who care about you."

Sophia's expression turned cold, her eyes flashing with anger. "I don't need a lecture from you, Lara," she said. "I know what I'm doing."

Lara held up her hands, a gesture of surrender. "Fine, Soph," she said. "But just remember, you can't keep pushing people away and expecting them to come back. Eventually.

As you collapsed onto the couch, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. The confrontation with Sophia had left you drained, both emotionally and mentally. You reached for your headphones and plugged them in, desperate to drown out the thoughts swirling in your head.

You opened Spotify, and the first song to pop up was "Romantic Homicide" by d4vd. You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the coincidence. But as you started listening to the song, you realized that the lyrics seemed to describe your current relationship with Sophia perfectly.

The song's themes of toxic love, obsession, and desperation resonated deeply with you. You felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of pain and heartache, and you couldn't escape.

As you listened to the song on repeat, you started to feel a sense of validation. You weren't crazy for feeling the way you did. You weren't overreacting. Your feelings were real, and they were justified.

But as the song continued to play, you started to feel a sense of hopelessness creeping in. You realized that you couldn't keep going on like this. You couldn't keep trying to make the relationship work, only to be constantly disappointed and hurt.

You started to think about all the what-ifs. What if you stopped trying? What if you focused on yourself and moved on? What if you took control of your own happiness, instead of relying on Sophia to make you happy?

As you thought about these questions, you started to feel a sense of clarity wash over you. You realized that you had been living in a state of limbo for far too long. You had been stuck in a relationship that was no longer serving you, and it was time to move on.

You thought about all the times Sophia had hurt you, all the times she had ignored you or dismissed your feelings. You thought about the way she had spoken to you earlier, the way she had made you feel like you were the problem.

And then you thought about the way you felt when you were with Sophia. You thought about the way she made you feel like you were walking on eggshells, never knowing when she would blow up at you or ignore you.

You realized that you deserved better. You deserved to be in a relationship where you felt seen and heard, where you felt loved and valued. You deserved to be with someone who made you feel good about yourself, not someone who constantly tore you down.

As you came to this realization, you felt a sense of weight lift off your shoulders. You felt like you could finally breathe again, like you had been holding your breath for far too long.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of determination wash over you. You were done trying to make the relationship work. You were done being the one to try and fix things. You were done being the one to apologize and make excuses.

You were going to focus on yourself, on your own happiness and well-being. You were going to take control of your own life, and you were going to move on.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. But as you sat there on the couch, listening to "Romantic Homicide" on repeat, you knew that it was the right decision. You knew that it was time to let go of the past and move on to a brighter future.

As the day went on, Sophia couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. She was used to receiving good morning texts from you, followed by a string of messages throughout the day. But today, there was nothing. No texts, no calls, no messages.

At first, Sophia thought that you were probably just still mad at her for what she had said the day before. She had been harsh, she knew that. But she had been stressed, and she hadn't meant to hurt your feelings.

As the hours ticked by, Sophia started to feel a growing sense of unease. She tried to brush it off, telling herself that you were probably just busy, or that you were still sulking. But deep down, she knew that something was wrong.

Sophia found herself checking her phone obsessively, waiting for a message or a call from you. But there was nothing. Just silence.

She tried to focus on her work, but her mind kept wandering back to you. What were you doing? Were you okay? Why weren't you responding to her?

As the day drew to a close, Sophia realized that she had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she had forgotten to eat lunch. She ordered some food and sat down at her desk, staring blankly at her phone.

Where were you? Why weren't you talking to her?

Sophia's mind was a jumble of questions and worries. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew that she didn't like it.

As she waited for some sign from you, Sophia couldn't shake off the feeling that something was very wrong.

You were taken aback by the sudden knock on your door. You hadn't expected Sophia to show up at your place, especially not after the way things had been between you two lately.

You got up from the couch, hesitating for a moment before making your way to the door. You peered through the peephole, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Sophia standing on the other side.

She looked frantic, her eyes wide with worry and her face pale. You could see the desperation in her eyes, and for a moment, you felt a pang of guilt.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You opened the door, and Sophia burst in, her words tumbling out in a rush.

"What's going on, y/n?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Why did you send me that message? We can't just break up like that. We need to talk about this."

You stood your ground, trying to remain calm despite the turmoil that was brewing inside you. "I think we've talked enough, Sophia," you said, your voice firm but quiet. "I've been thinking a lot about us, and I realize that I deserve better. I deserve someone who prioritizes me, who makes time for me, who loves me for who I am."

Sophia's face fell, her eyes welling up with tears. "You deserve better?" she repeated, her voice cracking. "What are you talking about? I love you, y/n. I've always loved you."

You felt a pang of sadness at her words, but you knew that you couldn't let your emotions get the better of you. You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm and focused.

"I know you think you love me, Sophia," you said, your voice soft but firm. "But love isn't just about words. It's about actions. And your actions have shown me time and time again that I'm not your priority."

Sophia's face crumpled, and she started to sob. You felt a pang of guilt, but you knew that you couldn't back down now. You had to see this through, no matter how hard it was.

As Sophia sobbed, you felt a pang of compassion and empathy. You knew that this wasn't easy for her, and that she was hurting. You took a step forward, and wrapped your arms around her, holding her close.

"Sophia, I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice soft and gentle. "I know this isn't easy for you. But I have to be honest with you. Our relationship has been struggling for a long time. We've grown apart, and we want different things. I deserve better, and so do you."

Sophia pulled back, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She looked up at you, her expression searching.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice shaking. "We've had our ups and downs, but I thought we were happy. I thought we were in love."

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

"We were happy, Sophia," you said. "We were in love. But that was a long time ago. Lately, it's felt like we're just going through the motions. We're not communicating, we're not connecting. We're just existing in this relationship, and it's not fair to either of us."

Sophia looked at you, her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I didn't prioritize our relationship."

You smiled sadly, feeling a pang of nostalgia.

"It's not just your fault, Sophia," you said. "We both played a part in this. But I think it's time for us to move on. You deserve someone who can give you the love and attention you need. Someone who can prioritize you and make you happy."

Sophia nodded, her eyes welling up with tears again.

"I'll always love you," she whispered.

You smiled, feeling a sense of closure.

"I'll always love you too, Sophia," you said. "But it's time for us to say goodbye."

As Sophia walked away from your apartment, she felt a sense of emptiness wash over her. She had never felt so alone, so lost. She thought about the things you had said, about how she had neglected you and prioritized her idol life instead.

Her mind drifted back to the conversation she had with Lara the other day. Lara had told her that she was being too harsh, that she needed to communicate with you and work through their problems together. But Sophia had dismissed her concerns, telling herself that she knew what was best for their relationship.

Now, as she walked alone on the darkening streets, Sophia realized that she had been blind to the truth. She had been so focused on her career, on being the perfect idol, that she had forgotten what it meant to be in a relationship. She had forgotten how to love, how to care for someone else's feelings.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she thought about all the times she had hurt you. All the times she had ignored your messages, or dismissed your feelings. All the times she had put her career first, and you second.

Sophia felt a wave of regret wash over her. She wished she could turn back time, wished she could go back to the days when their love was new and strong. But it was too late now. You had made it clear that you were done, that you deserved better.

As she walked, Sophia's tears began to fall. She felt like she was losing herself, like she was drowning in a sea of regret. She thought about all the what-ifs, all the things she could have done differently.

Why had she been so blind? Why had she let her career consume her? Why had she hurt you so badly?

Sophia's sobs grew louder, echoing through the empty streets. She felt like she was shattering into a million pieces, like her heart was breaking into tiny fragments.

She didn't know how to put herself back together again. She didn't know how to heal the wounds she had inflicted on you, or on herself. All she knew was that she had lost the love of her life, and she didn't know how to get it back.

#Katseye #katseye x reader #Katseye angst #Katseye fluff #angst #katseye sophia #sophia laforteza #sophia x reader #Sophia fluff #Sophia angst #katseye x female reader #Sophia laforteza x reader

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hoshifighting · 3 days ago

Note

Hiii, today I was scrolling through TT and found out that during THE act, the vagigas sometimes make the "farting" kind of noises because of the air inside. Soooo my first thought was, what do you think SVT's reaction would be if it happened during your nasty time👀

And also, God bless you and your talent, thank you for sharing your works and making my life a little better 🙏

seventeen reaction to queefing

WARNINGS: smut, sensitive content.

seungcheol: your eyes go wide, and you're immediately like, “oh my god, i’m so sorry,” scrambling to pull the blanket over your head like it’s a shield from embarrassment. this man doesn’t even blink. “baby, what?” he chuckles, all warm and raspy like he’s genuinely confused why you’re apologizing. “that’s normal. you think i care about that? nah, keep going. don’t even start, baby girl. you’re not running away from because of something like this.”

jeonghan: you freeze, horrified, your cheeks blazing as you blurt out, “oh my god, that wasn’t—” “hey, hey,” jeonghan interrupts, lifting his head to look at you with that stupidly pretty face of his. “don’t even think about it.” “it’s embarrassing!” “it’s air.” he raises an eyebrow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you groan, trying to cover your face, but he gently tugs your hands away, planting a kiss on the tip of your nose. “relax, babe. you think i’m gonna stop worshipping you over something that happens to literally everyone? no way.”

joshua: when you freeze faster than someone caught stealing snacks at 2 a.m. joshua pauses too, blinking like he’s processing it. then he tilts his head, a soft smile creeping onto his face. “its okay.” he says, his voice soft and reassuring, like he’s trying to calm a spooked puppy. “yeah, but it’s… ugh!” you groan, wanting the bed to swallow you whole. he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “y/n, seriously, it’s not a big deal.” when he moves to kiss you properly, his hands trailing up your sides, you realize he’s deadass unfazed. the man’s unshakable.

junhui: his first reaction is to get wide-eyed “woah, was that—?” “jun, no,” you cut him off, absolutely mortified. “nah, don’t do that.” his voice softens as he cups your face, looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. “it’s fine, babe, I swear..”

hoshi: you’d barely even noticed it happened, but he would. blinking like his brain just blue-screened. you’re already spiraling, trying to bury your face in the pillow. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—” “no, no, babe!” he’s quick to stop you, his voice practically tripping over itself. “it’s fine, it’s fine! actually, it’s kinda funny, right? like, pfft.” you peek up at him, and the man’s already cracking up, his laugh so contagious you can’t help but smile. “you’re not mad?” “mad? babe, why would I get mad?” you can’t even be embarrassed anymore because he’s so earnest about it, his hands gently pulling you back to him.

wonwoo: he blinks once, twice, and then tilts his head slightly like he’s processing. “dont worry, it’s not like you planned it.” h “yeah, but…” “no ‘buts,’” he interrupts, brushing his lips against yours. “then let me put it simply: i don’t care. i just care about you.”

woozi: then he clears his throat, trying to pretend he didn’t hear anything. but you’re immediately scrambling to apologize, cheeks flaming. “i swear i didn’t—” “stop,” woozi cuts you off. he sits back slightly, giving you space as his eyes meet yours. “you don’t need to explain. it’s not a big deal. it’s just air. you think that’s gonna scare me off or something?” you blink at him, his calm behavior throwing you off. “uh, i don’t know. maybe?” he huffs out a laugh, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “you’re ridiculous,” he murmurs. “it’s normal, and it doesn’t change how much i’m into you. so, relax, okay?”

minghao: you immediately stiffen, your hands flying to your face as you groan. “oh my god, hao, i’m so sorry.” he doesn’t even falter, just gives you a calm, amused look. “y/n, why are you apologizing?” “because—ugh! you know why!” “nothing to apologize for.” “but it’s so embarrassing.” “to who?” he counters, his hands sliding down your sides, grounding you. “not to me. now, can we move past this and get back to what we were doing?”

mingyu: holds you when you’re already trying to roll away from him, muttering a frantic string of apologies. “woah, woah, babe!” mingyu’s big hands are quick to pull you back, his voice full of concern. “what’s wrong?” “what’s wrong? you heard that!” he blinks, clearly confused for a second, and then realization dawns on his face. instead of laughing, he smiles. “oh, that? babe, that’s nothing.” “it’s still embarrassing,” you mumble, avoiding his eyes. “hey, you know I don’t care about stuff like that, right? it’s just us here. no judgment. ever.”

seokmin: it happens, and the room goes silent. you’re already halfway to a meltdown. he’s biting his lip, trying so hard not to laugh, but you can see the corners of his mouth twitching. “sorry, sorry,” he says quickly, waving his hands. “i’m not laughing at you, i swear.” “but you’re laughing!” you groan, trying to bury yourself in the sheets. he gently tugs the sheets down, his expression softening. “okay, listen. it’s not a bad thing, and then this little human moment happens, and it’s kind of adorable.” “adorable?!” he grins, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “yeah. because it’s you. now, come here and stop hiding from me.”

seungkwan: you immediately sit up, your face buried in your hands. “oh no kwannie,” seungkwan sits up too, rubbing your back gently. “y/n, it’s fine. seriously.” “it’s not fine! it’s so embarrassing!” “babe,” he says, his tone both gentle and slightly exasperated, “do you know how many awkward things I’ve done in my life? this doesn’t even make the top 100.” you glance at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile.

vernon: would 100% just act like it didn’t happen, not because he’s trying to be cool, but because he genuinely doesn’t think it’s a big deal. like, he hears it, goes, “huh,” and moves on with life. later, if you bring it up, he’d be like, “oh, yeah, that. it’s normal, right?” but also, he’s got this tiny smirk like he secretly finds it funny but isn’t about to embarrass you over it. chillest mf alive.

chan: this baby would be so flustered but trying so hard to play it cool. he’d pause, his ears would go all red, and he’d be like, “uh… are you okay?” and when you explain, he’d just nod all serious like, “oh, yeah, that’s normal. totally normal. happens all the time, i think. yeah.” but you know he’s silently combusting inside. later, he’d probably google it just to make sure he handled it right. adorably awkward but trying his best.

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muletia · 2 days ago

Note

ugh the optimus ruining your garden ask makes me wanna be mean to him. just a little 🤏. maybe he's being extra clingy when you're trying to get smth done or he accidentally breaks smth again. so you're scolding him while jerking his spike and he's trying to make a cohesive apology, but it's the 5th time you've made him cum and words are starting to be harder and harder to find. then you can tease him about how someone who's given so many inspirational, articulated speeches to his fellow autobots now can't even sob out a "sorry" :(

-💕

cw: sub!optimus, dom!reader, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, teasing

word count: 750

thank you primus for the existence of overstimulation and for allowing me to torture my favorite characters with it 🙏

"Really, darling, twice in a row is just too much." You click your tongue a few times.

Your hand moves steadily, gripping and tugging at the swollen but valiantly enduring spike. Your skin, slick with pink transfluid, glides smoothly over the impressive length, maintaining the same irritated rhythm, channeling your frustration caused entirely by Optimus.

"I already explained to you, don’t step on my flowers. And don’t even try to tell me it was an accident. I’m absolutely certain you did it on purpose just to get me to punish you a little."

"A little" is quite the understatement when you’ve forced him to overload multiple times in a row. You’ve completely worn him out. His processor is fried, helm’s insides reduced to mush, leaving him incapable of thinking about anything other than the pleasure flooding his entire frame. How exquisitely stupid and helpless he felt, to the point where he kept pushing his hips into your hand, desperately trying to match the rhythm you set. Syncing his movements with yours, chasing another overload. And then another. And another, if it meant more of your touch and your attention focused solely on him.

"I-I a-am so sowwrhy!" he stammers, barely capable of forming words anymore.

"I don’t know, I just don’t see any remorse on your face, Opti. Are you sure you’re truly sorry?"

With his optics rolled back and his intake hanging wide open, coolant dripping from its corners, all you can read from his expression is that he’s having the time of his life. Not a single trace of guilt, no regret for your poor, trampled flowers.

Which is why you don’t believe the dramatic nodding he’s offering you. Especially not when his spike spasms, already preparing for another overload, even though Optimus doesn’t have any more transfluid left to give you — not even a single drop. That doesn’t stop him from shooting blanks, still thrusting his hips without pause, while you relentlessly and methodically jerk off his hard spike.

"Well? Use your words, darling. Are you sorry?"

"Ah, hah!"

"Moans aren’t words," you sigh, propping your elbow on his overheated thigh and resting your head on your outstretched hand. "Try again."

"Y- ah! Yew... mmMm!"

"Should I stop milking your spike? Would that help you find the words?"

He shakes his head frantically. You can’t help the slightly sadistic smile that creeps onto your lips.

"Then keep trying, sweetheart. I won’t let you go until you properly apologize to me."

"A-ah, so-sowwhry!" he sobs.

Your grip tightens around his spike, your hand firmly pressing against the living metal. He knows he’s being punished; understands that he’s failing to accomplish this one simple task, but he’s no longer capable of forming coherent words — nothing more complex than moans.

"Is that supposed to be an apology?" you scoff, the sharpness in your tone drawing a quick yelp from Optimus.

"Sow-Sowrhy!" he repeats, once again. He tries, programmed to obey your every command, but the result is pitiful and pathetic as he fails, breaking down when he can’t manage even one simple word.

Not when his entire frame is focused solely on chasing the next overload. On your soft hand milking his spike, your elbow digging into his trembling, oversensitive thigh. On your voice, icy and cutting against his spark. On simple, easy-to-understand directives, because anything more complex is far beyond the capacity of his poor, overworked processor right now.

"Oh, Opti. Is that the best you can do?"

"Ah! So-hah!"

"The great Prime, gifted with the talent for composing beautiful, inspiring speeches, and he can’t even string together a single simple apology."

He scrapes his servo against the floor as another empty overload wracks his spent spike. Yet you don’t stop moving your hand, forcing him to prepare for the next one.

This time, he doesn’t even bother trying to use his vocalizer, reduced to mindless whimpering.

"I expected more from you. A full essay on how sorry you are. I thought you’d rise to the challenge. You’re Optimus Prime. Prime! The gift of stirring oratory runs through your circuits!"

"Hah, so-sowwh..."

"And you can’t even manage a simple ‘sorry’?"

"S-sorwh... AH!"

You sigh and subtly slow the pace of your hand on his spike. Playtime is one thing, but you don’t want to accidentally kill him.

Though, knowing his submissive tendencies, he wouldn’t have any objections to dying by your hand.

"Let’s try again. And this time, I want an apology worthy of a Prime."

#be silly #transformers x reader #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #obsessed!optimus #valveplug

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hyunjusgf · 2 days ago

Text

“Love/Hate”

pent up hate sex with the gf :3

fem!reader x cho hyun-ju

nsfw

note: hiii >_< so there was this one request (it won’t let me answer it for some reason, so the request could be attached to this, but yeah) where the reader and hyun-ju have pent up hate with each other + they end up hate fucking. i’m so sorry to the person that i couldn’t attach their request to thissss, i have no clue what’s going on with tumblr and i wrote this on my phone instead of my laptop this time :( i’m writing hyun-ju before she finished her transition :p i have another one-shot written where she finished her transition, so that will be posted soon ;3

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You walked through the front door, slamming it behind you; before your girlfriend could get inside. You were completely mad at her and did not want anything to do with her. You kick off your shoes, having them lie around on the living room floor instead of putting them away.

“Why are you treating me like a child? I’m not a child, I don’t need you babysitting me out in public every second! I can take care of myself.” You yelled as you walked into the kitchen.

Hyun-ju opens the door and walks in, now proceeding to close the door behind her.

“Y/N, I’m not babysitting you. I’m just trying to help you out, why won’t you take my help?” She asked as she takes off her shoes, now placing them on the shoe rack and follows you to the kitchen.

“The least you could’ve done was place your shoes on the shoe rack like a normal person instead of trying to trash the place up.” She added.

You open the cabinet where you store the liquor and as you try to reach for the bottle of vodka, but Hyun-ju wraps her hand around your wrist; yanking your arm away from the bottle and she closes the cabinet with her other hand. She proceeds to push you against the kitchen wall, her larger figure completely covering yours; making sure it was impossible for you to escape.

“Now love, you completely know better than that. No drinking when we’re mad at each other.” She says, but you could care less about what she had to say.

You pushed her away, “You’re not the boss of me, you can’t tell me when I can or can’t drink!” You screamed.

As you’re trying to leave the kitchen, she grabs you by your waist; now lifting you up and placing you on the kitchen counter. Proceeding to pull your pants down, revealing your black lace panties. She gets done on her knees, leveling her face to your core and she spread your legs out.

“Oh?” She said softly.

“But I can,” she whispered softly as she pushed your panties to the side, revealing your entrance and instantly slides her digits inside you. She wasn’t gentle at all, her digits were deep inside you; pumping them at a fast pace, causing you to throw your head back as your hands gripped onto the edge of the counter: trying to hold on for dear life.

She looked up at you, a smirk appearing on her lips in satisfaction as she watched you try to suppress yourself.

“What happened to you being loud?” She asked as her mouth hovered over your clit, her warm breath causing you to squirm a bit.

“I thought we were yelling, now you’re not.” She added.

You looked down at her, she was ready to eat you out right then and there as she was fingering you.

Her digits were hitting all the right spots, noises instantly leaving from your lips as you felt her tongue press against your clit; now licking your clit as she curled her digits against your g-spot.

You moved one of your hands from the edge of the counter and moved it behind her hand, tugging on her hair as you pushed her head into your core more as she picked up the pace.

“Right there..” you cried in sensation, your needy noises covering the entire kitchen.

She could feel that you were close, she could feel your walls tightening around her digits. Your legs started shaking slightly as you began to reach your climax and as you were just about to release yourself: she removes her digits from inside you and instantly moves her face away from your heated core.

You looked at her, “Why did you do that for?” You asked as you try to catch your breath.

She couldn’t help but chuckle, “Because I can.”

She got up from the floor, and as she was about to leave the kitchen. You got off from the countertop and grabbed her arm then dragged her out from the kitchen to the bedroom, opening the bedroom door with your free hand.

“And what are you doing?” She asked as she looked down at you.

You said nothing but giggled, you carefully pushed her on the bed then climbed on top of her. You sat on her crotch, now tugging on her shirt.

“My turn,” you whispered as you moved your hands down to the hem of her shirt and lifted her shirt off of her body: removing her shirt and tossing it to the side.

You wrapped your arms around her shoulders as you leaned in to kiss her, slightly grinding against her crotch as you made out with her. You could feel her cock underneath you getting hard as you kept grinding against her.

You pulled your lips away from hers, and moved off from her crotch as you unwrapped your arms from around her shoulders. You moved yourself down to her pants, unbuckling the belt, unbuttoning them, and pulled them down along with her boxers.

Her cock instantly sprung free and you looked up at her with a smirk on your face.

“You get hard easily,” you chuckled then you wrapped one of your hands around it as you gently kissed the head. You opened your mouth, instantly taking her whole inside your mouth.

Hyun-ju’s eyes widened as she watched you take her whole, your head moving upward and downward as you were blowing her.

She groaned softly as she slightly threw her head back, her hand getting tangled in your hair. You looked up at her and saw that she was enjoying herself, tugging on your hair; urging you to keep going.

She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold herself together to not let go but she wanted to. Her cock slightly twitching inside your mouth as she grew closer to releasing but you stopped and removed her cock from your mouth, wiping the line of saliva that got left behind.

You stared into her eyes, you could tell her was mad; she was not having it.

“Y/N,” she said.

Before you could reply, she grabbed you bought you close to her and moved her mouth close to your ear.

“Just you wait.” She whispered and she moved down to your core, slightly tugging on your panties as she removed them off from you then tossed them to the side.

She then wrapped her hands around your waist and picked you up, sitting you down as her cock slid into your entrance with ease causing you to gasp.

“Shit,” she murmured as she guided you at a slow pace.

Her hands never left your waist, she stared deep into your eyes; maintaining eye contact with you, enjoying feeling herself inside you. Little whines escaped from your lips as she started thrusting from underneath you, feeling the head of her cock kissing all the right places; making you see stars.

“Yeah? Right there, love?” She cooed as she helped you pick up the pace.

You tried your best to form your words, but you couldn’t. The only response she could get from you were your cries of pleasure as you felt yourself inching closer and closer. Your walls tightening around her length, the cries of pleasure growing louder and louder by each second.

She could feel herself getting close too, her cock twitching inside you, her groans growing louder until the two of you released in each other.

Hyun-ju moved her hands away from your waist, onto your face, cupping your cheeks and kissed you deeply then pulled away with a soft smirk on her lips.

“Oh love,”

“We’re just getting started.” She finished and removed herself from inside you then flipped you over, your back now pressing against the bed.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

She then inserted herself again, now placing her hands on your waist as she began roughly pounding into you.

“Fuck!” you moaned loudly as you threw your head back.

“What was that?” Hyun-ju asked.

“I didn’t hear you,” she finished as she continued to pick up the pace, moving herself deeper inside you.

Nothing but the sound of the bed creaking, the cries of pleasure filled up the room for hours. Never reaching a stopping point until both parties agreed that they no longer hate each other after the argument they had.

#hyun ju #squid game #squid game season 2 #cho hyun ju x reader #cho hyun ju #hyun ju squid game #fem!reader #femreaderxcharacter #squidgame x reader #squid games #squid game x y/n #hyun ju x reader #squid game s2

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urmum-lovesme · 22 hours ago

Text

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P13

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: Hey my Angel Babies! It's been a while since I've written this series and in all honesty I needed a few days to really decide on the next bits of the plot. Any who, here we are. Poor Y/n is dealing with the aftermath of the case, we get some of the group back together which is so cute, and then we have an unexpected crashout.... AND a little moment between two people whatever could that mean hmmm???

warnings: alcohol, drinking, mentions of s/a, vomiting, mentions of community service, crying, emotional turmoil, violent behaviour, injuries, blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The country club buzzed softly with the muted sounds of conversation and clinking glasses, but for Y/N, the world felt oddly distant. She sat with Topper at a small table on the patio, nursing a drink she didn’t particularly want but felt compelled to hold. The ice had melted, condensation pooling around the base of the glass, but she hadn’t taken more than a few sips. Topper, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully as though she might snap at any moment.

“I just can’t believe he won”

Y/N muttered, her voice low but sharp. She traced the rim of her glass with a trembling finger, her frustration palpable.

“It doesn’t make sense, Topper. I told the truth- I did everything right.”

Topper leaned forward slightly closer to the table. He studied her, his chest tightening at the sight before him. There was something different about Y/N these days, like the light she carried- the spark that used to make her shine in every room- had been dimmed. He’d seen it start to slip away even now, months later, it was like it was draining out of her completely. He knew what had happened was something impossible to just “get over,” but a part of him had hoped time would start to heal her wounds, that she’d slowly begin to rebuild herself. Instead, he’d watched her retreat inward, her laughter growing quieter, her eyes a little emptier. And it killed him to see someone so full of life now struggling under the weight of something so cruel. Still, he forced a calmness into his voice,

“I know you did, Y/N,”

Topper exhaled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “You can’t keep going over it like this, it’s not good for you.”

She shot him a glare, “That’s not helpful.”

“I’m not trying to be helpful,” he shot back as he took a swing of his drink, “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking okay?”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she leant forward speaking to him pointing to herself, “Oh, so now you’re all thinking I should just get over it? Move on like nothing happe-”

“-that’s not what I’m saying-” Topper began firmly shooting her a stern look, but she cut him off, her voice rising as she crossed her arms, head tilting slightly.

“Then what are you saying, Topper? Because it sure sounds like you’re all tired of me talking about it!”

He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a groan. “No one’s tired of you, Y/N. That’s not what this is about. We’re just—” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

“We’re worried about you.”

Y/N shook her head, as she lifted her glass to her lips, swallowing some of the cold liquid in the glass, her grip on the glass tight, sitting in silence for a moment, looking at the mint flattened against the side of her glass.

“Well I’m sorry that I don't know how to sit here and pretend I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” Topper said gently. “You’re allowed to be angry, Y/N.”

You have no idea how I feel

“I am angry.” she said, her voice bitter, her fingers running over the arch of her brow as she spoke.

“I’m so fucking angry I don’t know what to do with it...”

As if on cue, the sound of soft laughter drifted over from a nearby table. Y/N glanced to her left and caught sight of where it came from; a trio seated a few metres away, two girls and a guy. They were whispering to each other, their eyes darting towards her every few seconds. One of the girls leaned in to say something, and the guy snickered, not even bothering to hide his glance in her direction. Y/N’s jaw tightened. Topper’s brow furrowed as he noticed the sudden change in her body language. His gaze shifted to where hers had been moments earlier, landing on the trio and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. She turned back to Topper, but her mind was already elsewhere. The whispers, the glances- they crawled under her skin like insects, itching and burning until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“What?”

She called out suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the patio where they sat. The trio froze, their laughter dying instantly as the girl’s voice rang out.

“You’ve got something to say? Then say it.”

“Y/N…” Topper spoke out to her, but she ignored him, turning in her seat to face them completely, the group now looking at her in surprise. Her gaze locked on the three of them, and she raised her voice again.

“No? Nothing? Just gonna sit there and whisper like cunts?”

The two girls exchanged a glance, their cheeks flushing red eyes wide. One of them grabbed her bag, and the other quickly followed suit, not looking back. The guy hesitated, taking a sip of his whiskey, looking like he wanted to say something, but a single glare from Y/N sent him scrambling to his feet. Within moments, the three of them had disappeared inside the club, their table left empty. Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair with a huff.

Get the fuck out of here

Topper sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “You know they’re probably just bored, right? Gossip’s their only hobby.”

“I don’t care,” Y/N sighed out, “I’m not going to sit here and let them stare at me like I’m some kind of freak show.”

“You kind of just gave them one,”

He pointed out, grinning slightly. Her lips twitched, a small smile tugging on her lips as her hand came over the table to playfully shove his shoulder. Topper was mid-rant about the absurd price of Malibu boats when Kelce appeared at their table, holding another drink for Y/N. He set it down in front of her on the table, eyeing the girl with a teasing grin.

“You haven’t even finished that one yet,” he said, nodding toward the mostly untouched glass at her elbow. Y/N barely glanced at it, pushing it to the side with a small smile.

“I’m not that thirsty Kels.”

Kelce raised a brow, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated groan. “Not thirsty? What happened to you? You used to throw back five of these in, like, an hour.”

Her lips twitched in an almost-smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes as she forced a shrug.

“Okay well maybe I used to be an alcoholic-”

Kelce cut her off with a loud laugh tumbling past his lips, Topper snorted at her statement, shaking his head. “Right.”

“Uhuh, laugh it up,”

She muttered, not meeting their eyes. Her gaze flickered briefly to the untouched drink Kelce had brought, but the sight of it sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. She hadn’t been drunk since that night. Not once. Even the thought of losing control, of putting herself in a vulnerable state again, made her skin crawl. She’d never let herself feel that powerless again; but she didn’t say any of this to the guys. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly over her chest like it might hold her swirling thoughts at bay. Kelce rolled his eyes,

“Whatever you say”

Y/N ignored him, pulling out her phone and unlocking the screen. She swiped idly through a few notifications, but her thoughts were elsewhere, caught on the gnawing disappointment she didn’t want to admit to herself. Topper noticed the shift immediately, once again; he seemed to have become awfully observant with the girl. He tilted his head slightly, watching her with a knowing look,

“He’s not coming.”

“Huh?”

“Rafe,” Topper said, placing his bottle down onto the table, “He’s not coming, he messaged me earlier.”

Her stomach dropped, but she forced her expression to stay neutral, brushing it off with a shrug, “That's fine- I didn’t expect him to come.”

Topper’s gaze softened, his voice dipping lower. “He didn’t want to upset you, Y/N. That’s why he didn't tel-.”

“I said it’s fine seriously”

She said again, this time a little sharper. She flicked her eyes back to her phone, scrolling aimlessly as though she had better things to focus on. But the truth was, she did care. She cared more than she wanted to admit. She hadn’t seen much of Rafe recently, not since everything had gone down in court. He’d been tied up with his community service, his probation, and God knows what else. And she… she hadn’t been able to bring herself to go out as much. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the whispers, the stares, or the fact that there was a possibility she might bump into Cooper, the world outside felt heavier now.

And Rafe not being there- it made it worse.

Kelce and Topper were talking again, their voices buzzing around her like background noise, but Y/N barely registered it. She stared at the drink Kelce had brought her, her reflection rippling faintly on the surface of the amber liquid. It wasn’t just about the alcohol. As Y/N took a sip from her drink, trying to get some semblance of normalcy back, Kelce’s phone buzzed yet again. He glanced at it, his lips curling into a knowing grin. Topper raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Seriously? Another message?”

Kelce rolled his eyes, tapping a quick reply. “Yeah, yeah. What do you want me to do?”

Y/N smirked and bumped her shoulder into the boys sitting next to her playfully. “You want that cookie so bad Kels- you’re whipped.”

“Whipped?!”

Kelce scoffed, looking up from his phone. “I’m not whipped. I’m... dedicated. You guys wouldn’t understand.”

Topper chuckled, crossing his arms. “Dedicated? You're in deep, man.”

“Oh, come on,” Kelce shot back, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation laughing at the two. “What, you two jealous because I’ve got a steady girl?”

Topper leaned in, grinning. “Jealous? Me? Nah. I’m just shocked you’re getting tied down. I’m living my best life.”

“Best life?” Kelce raised an eyebrow, eyes twinkling. “Yeah, right Topper, it’s called avoiding commitment.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “You’re both hopeless if I’m being honest.” As if on cue, both Kelce and Topper turned to her with identical looks of mock offence, and the girl looked momentarily surprised at their unplanned co-ordination.

“Right, because you’re such a relationship guru.”

Kelce quipped, narrowing his eyes playfully. Topper smirked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the arm rests of his chair, “Okay Ms. Expert, you’ve been dodging relationships like it’s a full-time job.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing despite herself, “Please, I’m just selective. There’s a difference.”

“Selective, huh?”

Kelce teased, leaning closer. “Is that what we’re calling it?” He exchanged a look with Topper before adding, “because if we’re being honest, you’re not all that selective when it comes to a certain someone.”

Y/N froze for a fraction of a second, her lip pressing together to avoid a smile from breaking out on her lips. She asked, feigning innocence, but her tone lacked conviction,

“I have no idea what you’re you talking about-”

“-Oh, come on, Y/N. We’re not blind, we see the way he looks at you.” Topper grinned at her as he teased her.

“And the way you look at him-”

Kelce added, smirking as he wiggled his eyes, he cut off his words with a wolf whistle directed at the girl. Y/N groaned, throwing her head back dramatically.

“You’re both ridiculous. There’s nothing going on. Besides, it's- ... complicated…”

“Complicated?” Kelce raised an eyebrow as he mimed air quotes around the word, shooting her an exaggeratedly sceptical look, “Sounds a lot like you’re avoiding the question.”

“Rafe practically worships the ground you walk on, and you’re out here calling it ‘complicated.’ ”

Topper agreed, he couldn't stop himself from pressing the subject further, his grin softening into something more genuine.

“Come on, Y/N. You’ve known each other for years. What are you so afraid of?”

Stop

Y/N froze, his words hitting her like a freight train. For once, she didn’t have a quick comeback or a sarcastic quip. Instead, she sat there, fingers lightly drumming against the table as her mind wandered. In this moment she realised he'd never told them- not Topper, not Kelce. They didn’t know about what happened in the hut. About the way he’d pulled away at the last second, leaving her reeling, confused, and- if she were being honest- extremely hurt. She assumed he would’ve told the boys, they were his best friends after all, yet now she was wondering if maybe he didn't tell them because he felt bad for her… did he not want to embarrass her poor judgement? The memory lingered, an ache she couldn’t quite shake. She realised she’d been silent too long when Topper raised an eyebrow at her.

“Y/N?”

He prompted, his tone softer now, curious. She forced a shrug, reaching for her drink to busy herself.

“I don’t know, Top,” she said finally, her voice quieter than she intended. “It’s just... complicated.”

Kelce groaned dramatically, throwing his hands down onto the table. “There it is again!” Topper’s eyes stayed on Y/N as he spoke. He wasn’t laughing anymore.

“I mean, Y/N, Rafe’s not some random guy. It’s Rafe. He’d never hurt you-”

“Okay, enough,”

Y/N said quickly, waving her hand at them. Her cheeks felt hot, burning, she swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Topper’s words were meant to reassure her, but they only made her chest tighten.

“This conversation is over.”

Well there goes keeping your cool

The two boys quietened down at the girl’s sudden change in mood, realising thwy may have pushed her too far, but the tension was suddenly cut by Kelce’s phone intensely buzzing against the table again. Kelce laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat. “Phoebe’s coming to join us”

Y/N grabbed her drink, muttering under her breath, “You two are not real.”

The two boys just laughed, as Topper spoke up,“if you start bringing her every time we meet, we’re going to have to start charging a fee.”

Y/N smiled, placing her glass down, “If she can keep you in line, that’s a service I’d pay for.”

Kelce shot her a wink. “Well, don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll always be my number one girl- even if Phoebe’s around.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N teased. “You keep telling yourself that, Kelce.”

The banter continued, easing the tension that had built up over the past few days. It wasn’t a fix-all, but it was a damn good distraction. Kelce cleared his throat, all their glasses now standing empty, his playful grin slipping away as the tone in the air shifted. He leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on the table. Topper and Y/N exchanged a quick glance, both sensing the change in his demeanor.

"Alright, jokes aside," Kelce began, his voice quieter now. "We need to talk."

Topper snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Don’t tell me you’re cheating on her, man."

Kelce shot him a sharp glare. “Shut the fuck up, Topper.”

Y/N raised her brows, her curiosity piqued. “What’s going on?”

For a moment, Kelce hesitated. He sighed, his eyes drifting over the tables around them, before focusing back on Y/N. His usual easygoing nature had completely vanished, replaced by something more solemn, more deliberate.

“I was talking to some guys down at the beach yesterday,” he started slowly, his voice lowering as if he was about to share something important. Y/N leaned in instinctively, feeling the weight of the moment.

“They were saying things… I mean I didn’t believe it at first, but you need to know.”

He continued, looking down at the table for a second before lifting his gaze to meet hers. Y/N frowned, sensing the heaviness in his words. She could tell it was something serious, “Okay, and what does this have to do with me?” she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral, though her insides churned. Kelce bit the inside of his cheek, clearly uncomfortable, but he pushed on.

“They were talking about why Cooper left New York last year…”

Y/N’s brow furrowed, her instincts screaming for him to stop, to not go down this road, to just leave it and go home, not to ruin a good night. But she couldn’t stop now. Not when he’d already begun,

“What do you mean? He said it was family business, didn’t he?”

“Well," Kelce hesitated, his voice lowering further. "Apparently, there were two other girls—different ones, from New York—who accused him of… well, you know.” He paused, searching for the right words.

“Sexual assault.”

What?

The words hit her like a brick to the chest, knocking the air from her lungs. Y/N’s breath caught, her mind struggling to process what she’d just heard.

“...what?”

She questioned, her voice a little shaky as she sucked a breath in, sharper than she intended.Kelce took a deep breath as he continued in a hushed voice.

“People are saying he left because of it, that he tried to cover it up. His family... they got involved, trying to make it all go away. They left for a while, layed low, and let the whole thing blow over.” He looked at Y/N, gauging her reaction carefully,

“...I’m just telling you what I heard.”

Y/N sat back in her chair, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if to steady herself. Her pulse quickened, and she could feel her mind reeling. She didn’t want to hear any of this- especially not now, not after everything Cooper had already done. She felt queasy but she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the new found uneasiness. She sat in stunned silence, the words Kelce had just said still reverberating in her mind. How was she supposed to react- what was she supposed to say? The room felt like it was closing in on her, the quiet pressing in on her chest.

“Is it true?”

She finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief. She met Kelce’s eyes, waiting for an answer she wasn’t sure she could even handle. Kelce didn’t look away. He simply nodded, his expression grim, heavy with the weight of what he was about to confirm.

“Yeah. I think it is- but I'm not sure.”

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to digest the words, but they didn’t sit right with her. It didn’t make sense, yet it did. Everything was starting to fall into place, the way he avoided talking about New York, how he never introduced her to any of his old friends. Her mind was whirling, but there were no words for the storm inside her.

“Look,” Kelce began again, his voice softer now, “I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else. You deserve to know.”

. . .

“Yeah, um, thanks,”

Y/N shook her head, trying to dispel the swirling thoughts that were clouding her mind, she muttered, the words coming out stiff. She wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for the information, or for simply being the one to say it instead of randomly overhearing it, which would have made her feel even worse. She pushed back her chair, the scrape of it against the floor startling her in the sudden stillness of the moment.

“I think I’m going to head back-” she said, her voice faltering slightly as she fumbled for an excuse, “-I just remembered I promised my mom I’d help her with the flower arrangements for her charity event this Sunday,” she added, half to herself.

Topper and Kelce exchanged a look, both of them knowing full well she was lying, but neither of them called her out on it. They could see she wasn’t okay- she wasn’t even close to being okay, not for a while- but this wasn’t something they could push her on.

“Come on, I’ll drop you home,”

Topper said gently, standing up and offering her a small, understanding smile. Y/N shook her head, though the invitation was warm.

“You don’t have to-”

“Nah, c’mon. I don’t want to be the third wheel with Kelce and Phoebe anyways.”

He was already moving toward her, a playful grin now taking over his features as he cut her off teasingly. Y/N gave him a half-smile, nodding her head as she stood up.

“Thanks, Top.”

She turned toward Kelce, who was watching her quietly, his expression serious. She walked over and pulled him into a brief hug, trying to convey something unspoken through the gesture. When she pulled away, he looked at her, his expression softening with concern. He spoke, his voice much quieter now.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you-”

“-No, no, you didn’t upset me. I’m glad you told me.”

Y/N shook her head quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Kelce nodded, but he still looked worried. She nodded, back at him as she continued,

“Don’t worry about me, Kels. Enjoy the evening with your girl. Tell her I said hi.”

He gave her a small, understanding smile, then shot a glance at Topper. “Alright. Well, if you need anything.”

Y/N managed a faint smile before turning to Topper, who had his arm outstretched for her, a silent offer of support. She slipped her arm through his, feeling the weight of the evening starting to take its toll. Topper wrapped a friendly arm around her waist, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

“Let’s get you home.”

She gave him a faint nod, her heart heavy with everything she had just learned, everything she had yet to process. The thought of Cooper, of what he’d done not only to her- but to other women? It made the world around her feel dizzy. As they left the country club, Y/N’s mind was miles away, Topper’s soft rambling blurring in her ears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N sat on the cold bathroom floor, her back pressed against the wall, her head buried in her hands. She hadn’t even realised how fast the tears had started to fall until they were dripping down her face, mixing with the bitter taste of the vomit she had just expelled. Her stomach twisted in knots, the disgust still gnawing at her insides, even after everything had settled.

Fuck

She knew it was stupid to let a rumour, a whisper in the wind, make her feel so fucking broken. She wasn’t even sure if it was true. Yet somehow, it amplified everything that had been building up in her since the trial. The emptiness. The uncertainty. Cooper’s smirk still etched into her mind after the verdict was announced, and the weight of his actions felt like a suffocating fog that wouldn’t lift, no matter how many breaths she took.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to scrub away the aftertaste of bile and despair. Her phone buzzed on the floor beside her, sending a shiver through her. The sound was piercing in the stillness of the bathroom, and for a moment, she just stared at it, willing it to stop. It buzzed again, the screen lighting up with a name she hadn't expected to see,

Rafey

Her stomach tightened at the thought of him. She hadn’t seen him in days, not properly- only in fleeting moments between his community service shifts, or anger management classes. He’d been keeping his distance, but she couldn’t deny how much she missed him. It was... complicated. Everything was so fucking complicated.

She eyed the phone cautiously, her thumb hovering over the screen as she debated whether or not to open the message. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hear from him. She did. But with everything that had happened, with the weight of what she was processing, she wasn’t sure she could handle one more thing on her plate right now.

Rafey : You okay?

Rafey : You haven't replied to my texts.

The message was simple enough, but the way he asked, so direct and concerned, sent a ripple of warmth through her chest. But she hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to drag him further into this mess. What would he even say if he knew what was really going on in her head? She almost didn’t respond. But something about his message kept her glued to the screen.The phone buzzed again, snapping her from her thoughts.

Rafey : Just want to know you’re okay?

Y/N stared at her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen, unsure of what to type next. It felt like everything had been so difficult lately, and Rafe's message was the first real connection she'd had in days.

Angel : I’m good.

Angel : Helping mom organise some stuff

She read the message, pressing her lips together as she waited for him to reply. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a small bridge between them.

Rafey : That’s good

Angel : How was your service?

Rafey : Don’t wanna talk about it

Rafey : Tired of that shit.

Y/N sat back against the toilet seat, her heart heavy with guilt. If he’d never gotten involved in what happened between her and Cooper, he wouldn’t be stuck with this sentence. He wouldn’t have to endure the endless hours of community service, the stress, the constant reminders of his worthlessness from his father. The mess she'd dragged him into. She felt a sting in her chest.

Angel : I’m sorry

Rafey : Don’t be

Y/N sat there, her chest tight, as the seconds ticked by. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard again, and without thinking, her fingers moved on their own, typing out the words she’d been holding back for so long.

Angel : I miss you

Angel : I miss you so much

She stared at the message after sending it, her heart pounding in panic after she hit the send button. The little dots showed he was typing something.

Then they stopped.

She frowned, feeling the conversation slip back into that tense silence again, her eyes were stuck to the lit up screen of her phone, begging him to respond but nothing came. She could feel the lump slowly rising in her throat again.

No, no, no, no-

But a beat passed, and then suddenly his reply came.

Rafey : I miss you too angel

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She smiled, a small, sad smile, as she read his words. There was something so simple and yet so meaningful in them. Her fingers hovered again, wanting to say something else but unsure.

Then the phone buzzed again.

Rafey : Miss you every day

Y/N stared at the screen, she could feel the weight of the unspoken between them. She wanted to respond, to keep the conversation going, but for now, all she could do was sit there and stare at the screen, her smile turning sad as her mind drew her back to what Kelce had told her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was starting to set, casting a soft golden hue over the apartment as Y/N moved around the kitchen. The scent of garlic and herbs filled the air as she arranged plates and silverware on the table, her hands moving with a kind of routine that helped calm her racing thoughts. She wasn’t sure why she’d decided to invite the guys over. Maybe it was the tension of the past week- maybe she just wanted something normal, something that felt like a distraction from the storm in her head.

She placed the last glass on the table and stepped back to survey the scene. The table was set simply- nothing extravagant, just a warm and inviting arrangement. Y/N ran a hand through her hair, sighing lightly as she wiped her hands on her pink apron. She could hear the faint hum of the oven in the background, the dinner nearly ready.

As she adjusted the napkins, her phone buzzed from the counter. She glanced over at it, catching the name flashing across the screen.

Young Rich & Sexy

T-man : You’re not gonna believe it Y/N

Kels : We’re already on our way

T-man : Left 10 minutes ago

Angel : What?

Angel : You guys are early???

Angel : Now that’s a miracle

T-man : We decided to give you a surprise

Rafey : I'm 10 minutes away too

Angel : Rafe don’t text and drive, please

Rafey : I’m a professional

Kels : and me

Angel : …

Kels : fr?

Angel : boy idgaf

Kels : right

T-man : he’s literally swerving as we speak

Kels : anyway

Kels : HELL YEAH GIMME SOME FOOD

Angel : FATTYYYY

T-man : You two need to stop spending all your time on TikTok

T-man : You’re losing brain cells

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. She set the phone down, looking at the table once more. There was something almost surreal about it—this dinner, this small moment of peace amid the chaos. She hadn’t seen Rafe much lately with his community service, and there were still so many unspoken things between them, but having him here tonight felt like a small step forward. She checked the oven one more time and then hurried to tidy up a bit more- just a few stray dishes, a stray fork here and there. She didn’t want to be caught off-guard when the guys arrived.

Y/N heard the doorbell ring and quickly wiped her hands on her apron, making her way to the front door with a small smile. She hadn’t realised how much she needed the company until now. The sound of laughter and chatter from the group of friends outside was already enough to ease some of the tension that had been lingering in her chest for days. When she swung open the door, there was Kelce, grinning like an idiot. He immediately leaned in with a playful wink and said, his voice smooth as ever,

“What’s cooking, good looking?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her head tilting back slightly as she placed her hands on her hips, giving him an unimpressed look. Before she could respond, Topper walked in right behind him, his smirk matching the playful tone in the room.

“He’s been practicing that for the past ten minutes.”

Kelce playfully punched Topper in the arm, “Not cool, man, that was supposed to stay between us!”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling, as she stepped aside to let them in. They all trooped inside, Kelce and Topper bickering lightheartedly, but Y/N’s attention flickered past them to Rafe, who had been trailing behind the others. He was standing in the doorway now, his eyes meeting hers in that brief, still moment.

. . .

The space between them felt charged, like everything was suddenly up in the air, neither of them sure how to step back into this dynamic they’d shared before everything had gone wrong. But Rafe was the first to break the silence, his voice quiet but warm.

“Hey.”

“Hey” Y/N replied, her voice soft, a little unsure. She stepped aside to let him in, the faintest flutter in her chest at the sight of him.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Rafe’s gaze softened, and he nodded, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand as they stood close together. “Yeah. Just... been a long week. Glad to be here.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten at the sight of him. She didn’t know why but without thinking, she stepped forward, and before either of them could second-guess it, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

Oh-

Rafe hesitated for a second before his arms enveloped her, pulling her in close.

For a long, quiet moment, neither of them said anything. It was just the two of them, standing there in the doorway, holding each other. She could feel his breath on her hair, his arms a little tighter around her than usual. Neither of them was in a rush to let go, neither wanted to break this simple connection they’d been craving for so long.

“Cmon Y/n, a man's gotta eat!”

Seriously?

Kelces voice rang out with an exasperated sigh. Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away slightly, looking up at Rafe with a smile as they walked through the house to the guys in the kitchen . Y/N rolled her eyes, smirking at Kelce.

“I’m not making anyone wait. Go sit down your ungrateful ass down and I’ll bring everything out in a sec.”

Kelce immediately walked off from the kitchen into the connected dining room causing the girl to let out an amused scoff as he dropped into one of the chairs, his movements as if he’d just arrived at the world’s greatest feast. Topper spoke,

“Alright well, I’m ready to eat my weight in whatever you’ve got cooking.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his words, the boy carrying off some plates with him as he left. She headed to the stove to check on the food one last time, feeling a little lighter with each passing moment. As she adjusted the heat, she heard Rafe’s footsteps behind her. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the counter, watching her.

“You did all this yourself?”

He asked, his voice almost low, as if the question was both casual and somehow loaded at the same time. Y/N shrugged, trying to play it off cool.

“It’s no big deal. I like cooking.”

Rafe smiled, his eyes scanning the spread she’d prepared. There was something about the way he looked at her—an appreciation, a recognition that she was doing this for them, for him. She wasn’t sure if it was the tiredness from the day or the sheer comfort of their usual rapport, but her heart seemed to settle a little.

“Well, it smells amazing…”

He said, his voice steady. Y/N caught the way his gaze lingered on the dishes, eyes narrowing slightly. It wasn’t just the usual appreciation. No, this was different. Rafe’s eyes flicked from one pan to the other and then back to the food with a subtle sense of recognition, like he was trying to place the scent.

“Wait-”

Is that. . . ?

He trailed off, unsure whether to finish the question. Y/N gave a small nod of her head, trying to remain casual, though she could see the look of disbelief creeping into his expression.

“Um, yeah... I thought you could use some right now.”

She shrugged. Rafe stared at her for a moment, lips slightly parted, as though he couldn’t quite understand how she’d known. The dish- a comforting, aromatic smell with a richness that he hadn’t realised he missed- was something his mom used to make all the time. Something familiar and warm, a little taste of home he hadn’t realised he'd been longing for. It had always been the kind of meal she’d cook when he needed grounding, when everything else in his life felt too unpredictable.

“How- how did you remember that?”

I remember everything you've ever told me about you

He asked, his voice almost incredulous, his gaze locking onto hers as though she’d just hung the stars in the sky.

Y/N smiled softly, a touch of warmth spreading through her chest. “When you’d talk about your mum sometimes, you mentioned it. I don't know... it felt like the right thing to do.”

Rafe blinked, clearly moved by the simplicity of her gesture. It wasn’t just the food- it was the thought behind it. The fact that she’d listened, that she’d paid attention, and remembered the small things about him, things he hadn’t even realised he still held dear. They brushed against each other lightly, his hand grazing hers where it rested on the counter, the contact innocent enough, but it lingered in a way that made her pulse quicken. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Their shoulders brushed again, a small touch that felt intimate Before she could think too much about it, Y/N gestured towards the table.

“Let’s get them fed before Kelce blows up.”

Rafe chuckled, his gaze softening as he gave her a nod, “Lead the way.”

As the others settled into the dining room, the atmosphere lightened, the earlier tension of the week drifting away. Yet, for Y/N and Rafe, there was something more, something unspoken. It was the way they looked at each other when no one else was paying attention, the way their hands nearly brushed again, but neither of them reached out.

The plates were empty now, save for a few crumbs and remnants of sauce, the table was littered with empty glasses that had once held wine and water. The soft clink of ice in glasses and the occasional burst of laughter filled the room, creating an atmosphere that felt warm and easy, like the kind of evening that could stretch on forever. Y/N leaned back in her chair, a satisfied hum slipping from her lips as she glanced around the table. The food had been a success, and the company even more so. Rafe sat across from her, his usual intense, guarded expression softened by the easy chatter that had flowed between them throughout the night. He was laughing now, his head tipped back, eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine amusement. Topper, ever the troublemaker, had just finished cracking a joke, and they all burst into laughter. Once the laughter died down, Rafe, grinning, sat back with his drink, his eyes on Y/N, a playful glint in his eyes.

"You know, I still remember when you tried to make that lasagna when we were kids," Rafe said, a smirk forming on his lips. Y/N furrowed her brows, not sure where he was going with this. She blinked at him,

“What are you talking about?"

"Come on, you were like... what, 11? And you insisted you could cook for everyone," Rafe teased, leaning forward slightly. "You were so proud of it. You said you were going to make a ‘real’ lasagna like the ones your mom made."

Y/N’s eyes widened in realisation. "Oh my god, don’t remind me. That thing was so bad" she laughed, rubbing her forehead at the memory. "It was burnt on the edges and gooey in the middle, and I made everyone eat it anyway."

"I can’t believe made us eat it"

Topper chimed in, grinning wickedly. "And I’m pretty sure you cried when I said it was... well... an acquired taste." He burst into laughter, and Y/N shot him a playful glare. Kelce spoke up placing his glass back down onto the table,

“Man you said it was shit” The guys laughed at Y/n as she shook her head at them, a wide smile on her lips. She protested, her voice light-hearted,

"I was trying to impress you guys!"

Well you impressed me

Rafe spoke up, tone softening. "And I’ve never seen you so determined about anything in my life. Even if it did end up looking like-."

"-Hey! I was 11," she said, throwing her hands up in mock defence as she rolled her eyes. "Give me a break."

"Honestly, I don’t know how you thought that burnt mess was a ‘proper’ lasagna," Topper said, still chuckling. "But you were all in so, points for effort."

Rafe grinned, then added, "But the funniest part was that we all ate it because you asked so nicely. Even when we were pretty sure we’d end up with food poisoning."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment of the memory, but there was something comforting about the way they reminisced, as though they were all back in that childhood space, where nothing mattered more than getting through the day with each other.

"You guys are lucky I never tried cooking again after that," she said with a smirk, crossing her arms. "It was years before I attempted to make anything again."

"Well, thank God," Kelce teased, "or we’d be stuck with another shitty lasagna."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face didn’t fade. "Yeah, yeah," she said, her voice warm, almost fond. She looked at the empty plates on the table and started thinking about how she should start clearing the table when Rafe suddenly stood up, grabbing his empty plate.

"No, no, leave it,"

Y/N called out, quickly protesting against his actions. "I’ll do them later. Seriously, you’re my guest, Rafe. Let me do it."

But Rafe wasn’t having it. He grabbed another plate, shaking his head as he stacked them up, lifting them in his hands. "I’m not letting you do it by yourself" he said, voice firm.

"Rafael Alexander Cameron, sit down right now."

That was hot...

Shut up

Y/N’s words were sharp, and she stood up from where she sat opposite him, hands on her hips as she stared at him with a small frown on her brow. For a second, Rafe just stared at her, clearly amused. But before he could argue back, Topper and Kelce burst out laughing from the living room.

"Oooohhh, full government name, man!"

Topper cackled, leaning back in her chair. Rafe shot him a glare, his mouth twitching into a grin despite himself. "Seriously?" he muttered, but he was clearly trying not to laugh too. Kelce, still snickering, raised his glass and chimed in,

"She’s not messing around Rafe."

Y/N shot a playful smile over to Kelce, before turning back to Rafe, arms folded. "Sit. Down. You’re my guest, and I’m doing the dishes. End of story."

Rafe rolled his eyes, but there was no arguing with her. He slowly sank back down into his seat with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "Fine," he muttered.

"But next time, I’m taking the plates."

Y/N grinned, victorious. "Next time, I’ll make sure we have pizza, just so you can put the boxes in the trash."

Topper and Kelce both groaned. "That’s cheating!" Kelce said with a laugh, dramatically throwing his hands up.

"I don’t care," Y/N shrugged, grinning at them. Rafe leaned back in his chair, watching her as she turned back to the sink. "You’re lucky I like you," he said quietly, though there was a teasing edge to his voice. Y/N glanced over her shoulder at him, shaking her head.

"Don’t make me regret letting you eat my food."

"Too late for that," Rafe teased, catching her eye with a smile that made her heart skip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time had slipped by in comfortable conversation, the laughter still lingering in the air as Topper and Kelce made their way to the front door, grabbing their jackets. Y/N lingered in the hallway, watching them, feeling contentment. The night had been easy, almost like old times, but now that it was winding down, there was a small sense of unease creeping in.

Did I shut the window in my room. . . ?

"Thanks again for dinner, Y/N," Kelce said with a grin, his hand already on the door handle.

"You’ve been promoted to best cook I know- well, next to my mom, of course."

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. "Uh-huh, sure. It was pretty simple, but I’ll take the compliment."

"Don’t be modest," Topper added, giving her a playful wink. "That was a five-star meal, seriously if you ever invest in a restaurant, let me know. I’ll be your first customer."

Y/N laughed again, but she felt something tugging in her chest. The house was starting to feel a bit quieter, emptier now that her parents had gone on a business trip and the boys were getting ready to leave. She shifted on her feet, eyes flicking to Rafe, who was standing by the couch, casually leaning against the wall, arms folded. As Kelce and Topper said their goodbyes, Y/N hesitated for a moment, then turned to Rafe. She could feel her pulse quicken, though she wasn’t sure why.

Ask him-

"Hey, uh…" she started, trying to sound casual. "D’you wanna stay a little longer? It’s just I- don’t really like being home alone…"

Rafe’s expression softened immediately, his eyes flicking from her face to the door, then back to her. "Yeah, if you want me to, Angel." He sent her a small smile, Y/N’s chest warmed at the words. She offered him a small, grateful smile.

"Yes please."

Kelce and Topper exchanged a quick look as they made their way to the door, and then they both turned back to her with their signature playful energy.

"Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, yeah?" Topper grinned, giving Rafe a wink before he turned over to Y/n.

Dick

"Catch you later, Y/N."

Kelce followed suit, pulling her into a quick, friendly hug patting Rafe on the back with a suggestive look, flashing him a teasing grin as he pulled away. As the door closed behind them, the silence settled in. The atmosphere shifted a little, the weight of the quiet filling the space, but it felt different with Rafe still there. She turned to him, her voice softer now.

"Thanks for staying Rafey."

Rafe just gave her a warm, easy smile, the house felt quieter now, but not in a bad way. She glanced over at Rafe, who was already heading towards the kitchen, his casual stance making him look right at home.

"Come on," she said, "Let’s get these dishes out of the way before I lose my motivation."

Rafe smirked, following her into the kitchen, his hands already moving to gather up the empty plates. "You’re just trying to avoid doing the hard part by getting me to do it,. Is that why you asked me to stay hmm?"

Y/N chuckled as she began rinsing the plates, the sound of water running filling the space. "Maybe. I’ve never been great with dishes. But you know what? I think I deserve a break after cooking for you guys."

"Fair point."

He set to work drying the plates with a towel, his movements efficient but relaxed. It was strange- this kind of peaceful, mundane domesticity- something she hadn’t realised she missed. They were just two people, doing something as simple as washing dishes, but in a way it felt comforting, grounding.

"So, how’s your week been?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him as she wiped down a plate. "Any trouble with the um... community service?"

Rafe sighed, lifting a plate to dry it with exaggerated care. "It’s shit," he muttered, half-smiling. "I’d rather be anywhere else."

"... it’s better than sitting in jail?"

That was the worse thing you could've said

She smiled softly at that, her gaze lingering on him. There was something about his frustration, the way it came out in small bursts like this, that made her realise how much he had to give up—how much he was changing, just to make things right. Rafe looked up from his work, his eyes meeting hers for a moment, softening.

"Yeah. I guess. I mean, you know, it helps that I have a good... um, a good reason to push through."

Why did you say that!?

Y/N’s stomach fluttered slightly at his words, her scrubbing at the dishes slowing down. She wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion from the night but there was something about the way he looked at her, like maybe they were on the same page for the first time in a while.

The quiet continued, comfortable, with the soft sounds of clinking dishes and the low hum of the kitchen light. She was focusing on the task at hand, but she couldn’t help stealing glances at Rafe. He was standing so close, just in his own element, drying plates and listening to her talk.

"Thanks for sticking around," she said suddenly, her voice quieter now. "I know this is probably the last thing you wanted to do… stay at my place and help me with dishes."

Rafe met her gaze, his smile softening, and he shook his head. "No- it’s... nice. I like being here, with you. You make it... feel normal again, you know?"

I wish it was normal again

Y/N paused, his words settling between them. She wasn’t sure why, but the simplicity of them hit her harder than she expected and she turned her back to him for a moment, pretending to scrub a dish a little harder than necessary.

"Yeah," she murmured, "I get that."

The rhythm of washing and drying dishes continued, the sounds of water running and plates clinking blending into the background. But Y/N couldn’t shake the thought that had been swirling in her mind for hours now. She couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine, like Rafe was just... okay with all of this.

With her.

She placed the plate in her hands down a little harder than necessary, her breath catching for a second before she spoke up, her voice small.

“Rafe, I... I’m sorry I pulled you into all of this.”

She glanced over at him, her chest tight as she tried to gather the right words.

“I mean, this whole thing with Cooper and then taking him to court. And now you’re stuck doing this shitty community service because of me. I—" She shook her head, feeling that familiar weight of guilt press on her shoulders. "If I could go back, I wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have made you a part of any of this.”

There was a beat of silence, and her heart hammered in her chest. It felt like she had to say it, though. To get it out there, to finally apologise for everything she felt responsible for. But before she could continue, Rafe cut her off, his voice firm, but full of that comfort he always seemed to give her without even trying.

“Hey, c'mon- don’t do this”

He said, looking at her with a soft but serious expression. He set the plate he was drying back down and stepped a little closer to her, reaching out gently to touch her arm.

“It’s not your fault Y/n. None of this is on you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, her voice catching as she looked up at him, feeling the weight of the emotions she couldn’t quite keep in check.

“But-”

“-No”

Rafe interrupted, his eyes steady as he held her gaze. “Listen to me. This? It’s not on you. I’m doing this because I have to, yeah, it's a little shitty but I’m not doing it because of you, or because of some mess you dragged me into. I’m doing it because I want to make things right.”

She could feel her throat tighten, the words she had wanted to say now trapped. “I just feel like-"

“Y/N,” Rafe said her name softly, stepping even closer now, his voice lower and more intense.

“Stop blaming yourself. I don’t want you to carry this weight. It’s not yours to carry.”

I know

She felt a lump form in her throat, the reassurance she’d been needing finally coming from him. She wanted to protest, but she knew, deep down, that he was right. “I’m sorry,” she whispered after a pause, trying to blink away the tears that had gathered at the edges of her eyes.

“I just... I don’t want you to hate me for this.”

Hate you- ?

Rafe shook his head, his hand coming up to her face, thumb brushing lightly over the tear that had dropped down her cheek.

"I could never hate you."

His voice was low, steady, and certain, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/N allowed herself to let go of that constant worry gnawing at her.

“You don’t have to apologise for anything, okay? I’m here for you. And I always will be.”

The sincerity in his voice hit her harder than she expected, and for a moment, she just stood there, letting his words sink in. The quiet between them was heavy with emotion, and all Y/N could do was nod, fighting the urge to bury her face in his chest, but holding herself back for fear of overwhelming him. Rafe took a slow step back, giving her a little space, but his eyes never left hers.

“I’m serious, you don’t owe me an apology. We’re in this together, yeah?”

Y/N managed a small smile, her chest loosening just a fraction. “Yeah... together.”

“Good,” Rafe said, offering her that same soft smile. “Now cut out the distractions and finish those dishes”

She rolled her eyes, smile tugging at her lips. The last of the dishes were finally put away, and Y/N let out a small sigh of relief, wiping her hands on the dish towel. She turned to the table, where the remnants of their meal still sat- half-empty glasses, scattered napkins, a few crumbs left behind from the bread.

"Okay," she said, glancing at Rafe. "I'm going to move onto the table now."

Rafe, who had already started wiping his hands on a towel, nodded, shooting her a small, knowing smile. "Alright. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to use the bathroom."

Y/N gave him a quick nod, watching him as he turned to head out of the kitchen. She heard his footsteps retreating down the hall, the sound of the bathroom door closing gently behind him. For a moment, she stood there, looking at the table, unsure of where to start. It was always the little tasks that seemed the most mundane but were oddly soothing to her.

She grabbed the dishes one by one, stacking them up on the table, looking around at the surface deciding what to do next. The quiet of the house wrapped around her, but it didn’t feel heavy this time. Rafe’s presence lingered like a quiet warmth, and she found herself smiling softly, letting her thoughts drift. Y/N’s fingers paused in their movements as her phone buzzed from the edge of the table. She glanced over at it, instinctively reaching for it, her eyes immediately narrowing at the name flashing across the screen.

Hale.

Huh?

The lawyer who had represented her in the case against Cooper. She picked up the phone, her heart already starting to race as she unlocked it and opened the message. Her thumb hovered over the screen, reading the text in the dim light.

Y/N,

I hope this message finds you well, though I wish I were writing under better circumstances. After careful consideration and discussions with your parents, they’ve expressed that it’s best I’m the one to share this news with you directly.

Following a thorough review of the case and new information that has recently come to light, it’s become clear there were significant irregularities during the trial. Most notably, we’ve discovered that a considerable number of the jurors were brought in from New York- where the Miller family has influence. This raises serious concerns about the impartiality of the verdict, as it suggests the process may have been compromised.

Additionally, two individuals from New York have come forward with allegations against Cooper, detailing experiences eerily similar to what you endured. Their testimony, along with authenticating evidence, suggests a pattern of behaviour that casts further doubt on the fairness of the original trial.

With this in mind, we are formally requesting the reopening of your case. While this decision is not one I take lightly, I strongly believe that these new developments deserve the full weight of legal examination.

I understand how overwhelming and painful this must be to hear, and I want to assure you that I will do everything I can to assure we get a verdict that is right. I will be in touch with updates as soon as I have them. In the meantime, please don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything, whether it’s clarity on the process or just someone to talk to.

You’ve already shown so much strength, Y/N, and I deeply regret that you’re being asked to find it once more.

Warm regards,

Charlotte Hale

Her heart pounded in her chest, a bitter mix of confusion and a deep-seated frustration swirling together. Y/N’s fingers trembled as she placed the phone back on the table, her gaze lingering on the screen as if she couldn’t fully process what she had just read. The words felt like a slap, a reminder of everything that had been taken from her. The case that she had fought so hard for, the justice she had convinced herself was possible, was now wrapped up in layers of corruption and bias she couldn’t ignore.

The case reopened?

Her heart hammered in her chest as the anger began to rise. It wasn’t just disbelief now. It was fury- sharp and biting, gnawing at her insides. She had poured everything into this, had trusted the system, trusted the people she thought wanted to do right. And now this.

The verdict wasn’t fair?

She had been so close. So close to getting the closure she needed. And now… now, she didn’t even know if she could trust anything anymore.

This isn’t fair

Her mind kept replaying the way Cooper had walked out of that courtroom, free, smug, like it had all been a game to him. And now, this. The truth. It felt like a cruel joke- one that she had been too naïve to see through. The weight of the phone on the table seemed to mock her now, a symbol of how little control she had in this whole mess. Y/N’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, her mind a storm of thoughts she couldn’t process fast enough. Anger burned through her veins, a fire that had been simmering for so long, and now it was finally exploding. She could feel it- hot, blistering rage, every part of her body trembling with it.

She stared at the phone, her vision blurring, anger twisting in her chest like a fist. It was all a setup. All of it. She had been the fool, who thought she would win the case because he was being truthful. Without thinking, her hand shot out, grabbing the glass in front of her. The crystal was cold and smooth in her grip. She squeezed it so hard her fingers burned, knuckles white.

In one furious motion, she hurled it across the room.

The glass shattered against the wall with a sickening crack, fragments scattering like sharp confetti. The sound of it felt almost like a release.

But it wasn’t enough.

Her breath hitched as she turned, her gaze wild, she grabbed the next thing within reach- a plate, its ceramic cold and fragile under her fingertips. With a force she didn’t know she had, she threw it, sending it hurtling toward the floor where it shattered in a loud, jarring explosion. The sound echoed through the room like the breaking of everything she had worked for, everything she had trusted.

The anger surged again, unstoppable. Her hand shot out once more, knocking over her wine glass, sending the red liquid splashing across the table, staining the cloth beneath. She didn’t care. She was shaking, tears hot and angry as they rolled down her face, mixing with the fury that refused to dissipate. She knocked over another plate, hearing it shatter on impact. She felt no relief. She was beyond that now.

More glass.

More plates.

Her hands were raw from the force with which she threw each object, but it didn’t matter. She could hear the cracks and shattering as the world she thought she knew disintegrated in front of her, and the only thing she could do was rage against it.

“WHAT THE FUCK-”

She screamed out as she sent another glass flying, this one hitting the wall with such force it burst into tiny, jagged pieces, some of the hitting against her clothing.

She could hardly breathe anymore. Her heart pounded, a wild drumbeat in her chest, she wiped at the tears blurring her vision, angry that she was even crying. But the weight of it, the crushing feeling of being tricked, being lied to, was too much.

The table and the floor surrounding it was now a mess of broken glass and scattered debris. Her hands trembled, her pulse racing, but she was still moving- throwing, smashing, letting it all spill out in the only way she knew how.

Her breathing was frantic, her chest tightening as her body shook with the force of the emotions that had been building up. This wasn’t just about Cooper. This wasn’t just about the case. It was about feeling small, helpless, like nothing she did could ever change the outcome. She was drowning in it.

The sound of crashing glass echoed through the house, a juxtaposition to the tranquility that lingered moments before. Rafe’s head snapped up from the bathroom doorway as the sharp noises rang in his ears. His heartbeat quickened, and before he could even process it, his feet were carrying him down the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last.

The sight that greeted him when he reached the dining room made him stop dead in his tracks.

Shit

Y/N stood in the middle near the table, surrounded by the wreckage of shattered glass, ceramic and scattered debris. Her breathing was ragged, each intake of air coming in harsh, shallow bursts. She was shaking, her hands trembling at her sides, the furious anger that had consumed her only moments before now replaced with a hollow, devastated kind of exhaustion.

For a long moment, Rafe stood frozen in the doorway, his heart racing. He had never seen her like this- there was nothing left of the composed girl he’d seen all night. He stepped forward cautiously, his footsteps tentative as he moved through the mess of broken glass and spilled wine.

“Y/N…”

Talk to me please

He called softly, but she didn’t react, her gaze fixed on the floor as she stood amidst the destruction, the room echoing with the remnants of her rage. She didn’t even seem to register him at first, her body trembling uncontrollably, her face a mask of anger and pain. Rafe’s stomach clenched at the sight, his instincts kicking in. He didn’t even think about it as he moved forward to her. Slowly, her gaze lifted to meet his, her tear-filled eyes searching his face as if she were seeing him for the first time.

“Everything was a set up”

She choked out, the words broken and uneven as she sobbed. Rafe’s breath caught,

“What do you mean… what’s going on?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she took a shaky step forward, stumbling slightly before she collapsed into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her to his chest, and she melted against him, the sobs wracking her frame.

“Y/N, talk to me”

Rafe urged, his voice tight with confusion and concern. He could feel the shaking in her body, the way her entire being seemed to tremble with everything she was holding in.

“What do you mean it was a set up angel?”

“The case… The jury… It was all rigged, Rafe… They knew Cooper’s family… It wasn’t fair…”

She tried to speak but could barely get the words out. Her voice cracked, and her tears soaked into the fabric of his clothing, her body trembling violently as if the weight of it all was too much to hold. As Y/N continued to cling to him, Rafe’s gaze dropped to her hands. The sight made his stomach turn- her palms were covered in small, jagged cuts, blood trickling from the shards of glass that had embedded themselves in her skin.

“Shit”

He muttered, his voice low with urgency but he didn’t react to his words. Rafe didn’t hesitate. Slowly, carefully, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her body against his chest, her shaky form against him. She didn’t fight it; she just let him move her, her head resting against his shoulder, her sniffles filling the otherwise quiet air.

“C’mon”

He mumbled, gently guiding them to the kitchen. He sat her down on the counter, his hands on her waist as he steadied her. She looked at him, eyes still red and puffy, but she didn’t say anything. There were no words left in her, just the quiet sound of her sobs and the air between them. Rafe turned on the tap, running water over his hands, the cool stream contrasting sharply with the heat in the room. He grabbed a rag, wringing it out before gently dabbing it against her hands. The wet cloth was soothing against the cuts, and he could tell by the way she flinched slightly that it hurt, but she didn’t protest.

The silence between them was heavy, only broken by the soft sound of her sniffling as he carefully wiped the blood from her skin. He worked in silence, his focus entirely on her, on making sure she was okay, even though he didn’t have the answers to the mess she was feeling.

He stood between her open legs, his body close enough that he could hear every hitch in her breath, every tremble that ran through her limbs. His hands were gentle but firm as he continued to clean the cuts on her palms, brushing away the remaining chips of glass with careful fingers.

“I’m sorry”

Why are you sorry?

She whispered suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was raw, cracked, and her eyes were glazed over, lost in something he couldn’t reach, and they were locked on his hands, orking against her sore palms. Rafe shook his head, not looking up at her.

“It’s okay.”

No its not there's something wrong with me

She didn’t respond, just continued to sniffle quietly, the tears still slipping down her cheeks. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the unease swirling in his chest. He focused on her hands, on the delicate, small movements of his fingers as he finished cleaning them, his thumb gently brushing against the skin of her wrist. Y/N’s eyes met his gaze filled with so many emotions- grief, anger, exhaustion.

When he finished, he put the rag down, his hands resting lightly on her knees, his fingers gently brushing over her skin. For a moment, they just stayed like that- silent, still- before he lifted his eyes to hers, his expression soft.

“Better?”

She nodded slowly, her gaze shifting away from him, though her hands were still in her lap, the cuts visible, but the bleeding stopped for now.

“Thank you.”

She said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Rafe gave her a small nod, he wanted to say more, wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but he knew those words wouldn’t be enough, it wasn’t a promise he could make. Instead, he let the silence hang between them, letting her breathe, letting her process everything that had happened.

Yet deep down, he promised himself that no matter what, he’d be there for her- just like before.

Rafe set the damp cloth down on the counter, his fingers brushing against her knee as he took a step back. He looked at her, still perched on the counter, her hands now bandaged but trembling slightly in her lap. Her eyes were downcast, the weight of the evening still pulling her shoulders down like she was carrying it all alone.

“Let’s get you upstairs- you need to rest…”

He said gently, his voice soft but firm. Y/N shook her head weakly, her gaze flickering toward the mess in the dining room.

“I need to… to clean up. I can’t—”

I can't believe I did that. . .

“-hey,” Rafe cut her off, stepping closer again, his voice low but steady.

“No, you don’t. I’ll take care of it, but you need to stop Y/N. Let me take care of you.”

Her lips parted, like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out. She was too tired, too drained to fight him, even if the guilt of leaving the mess weighed on her. She barely had time to process before his hands were under her thighs, effortlessly lifting her off the counter. A small, surprised breath escaped her, but she didn’t resist, her body instinctively curling into his, her legs subconsciously wrapping around his hips. Her head rested against his shoulder, tucked into the crook of his neck, and she felt the soft scratch of his shirt against her cheek. One arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders while the other rested against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric for support.

“I’ve got you”

Rafe murmured, his voice steady and reassuring as he adjusted his grip on her. The warmth of his voice and the solidness of his hold made something in her chest ease, just a fraction. She pushed her face slightly further against his neck, her breath warm and shallow against his skin. Rafe carried her up the stairs like she weighed nothing, each step slow and measured, his arms secure around her. The house was quiet, save for the soft creak of the stairs beneath his feet and the faint rustle of her hair against his shoulder.

When they reached her bedroom, Rafe pushed the door open with his foot and stepped inside, careful not to jostle her. He gently set her down onto the bed, her head sinking into the plush pillow as she let out a small hum. He moved carefully, as though afraid he might shatter the fragile calm that had settled over the room. Leaning down, he grabbed the edge of the duvet and pulled it over her, tucking it around her slightly with care.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes flickering over her face. She looked worn out, her cheeks flushed from the tears she’d shed, but there was something softer about her now. Her gaze lifted to meet his, and he felt himself freeze under the weight of it.

“You okay?”

He asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. She hummed softly in response, her eyelids heavy but still watching him. Rafe swallowed hard, forcing himself to straighten. His hand, which had been resting on her arm over the covers, lingered for a second too long before he pulled it back.

“Alright, I’ll, uh…” He stepped back, clearing his throat as he tried to give her space. “I’ll let you rest. Just—” Before he could move further, her fingers reached out, gently wrapping around his hand. Her voice was soft, hesitant, but it stopped him in his tracks.

“Can you stay…?”

Please don't say no

Rafe blinked, caught off guard by her request. His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he nodded slowly, his voice tentative,

“Yeah… yeah, I can sit here.”

He gestured toward the floor next to the bed, already moving to lower himself, but her voice stopped him again.

“No, can you…” She trailed off, her gaze darting away briefly before returning to his.

“Can you sit on the bed?”

On the bed?

Rafe stilled, unsure for a moment. He hesitated, his mind racing- he didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. But the look in her eyes was enough to convince him.

“Okay”

He responded softly, nodding again. He moved around to the other side of the bed and sat down cautiously on the edge, leaving space between them. His weight shifted the mattress slightly as, but he kept his distance, his back pressed against the headboard, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

She nestled deeper into the pillow, her breathing evening out just a little as the tension began to drain from her frame. Y/n was on her side, her back to him, her figure curled slightly beneath the duvet. Her breathing was slow and even now, and for a moment, he thought she might’ve fallen asleep. He let himself relax just a little, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. But then her soft voice broke the silence.

“Rafe?”

His head tilted forward immediately, his focus snapping back to her.

“Yeah?”

His voice was quiet, laced with concern. There was a pause, and he watched the subtle rise and fall of her back as she inhaled shakily.

“Can you come a little closer?”

She asked, her voice quiet. Rafe froze. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right. He blinked, his heart picking up speed in his chest.

Move closer?

“Are you sure?”

He asked softly, cautious. He didn’t want to move if she wasn’t completely comfortable. She nodded, her head shifting slightly against the pillow.

“Please…”

She whispered, her voice cracking just a little. That single word unraveled him. Swallowing hard, he shifted carefully, inching closer to her, he slid fully onto the bed now, sitting up with his back against the headboard, a few inches away from her.

She didn’t move right away, her back still turned to him. But he could see her shoulders rising and falling, her breaths uneven, like she was fighting to hold herself together. He hesitated, staying on top of the covers. His eyes lingered on her back, on the way her figure seemed so small, so fragile in the dim light of the room.

He cared for her so deeply it almost hurt.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched, save for her soft breaths and the occasional rustle of fabric as she shuffled slightly. He didn’t move any closer, didn’t touch her, but his presence was steady, grounding. And even with her back to him, he didn’t look away, his heart aching for her in ways he couldn’t quite put into words. Y/N lay still, her back to Rafe, but her mind raced. She wanted to say something- needed to- but the words felt caught in her throat, tangled with her fears and doubts. She shifted slightly, her fingers clutching the edge of the duvet, and took a shallow breath.

“Rafe”

She mumbled again. He frowned slightly, leaning his head toward her.

“What is it, Angel?”

His voice was soft, concerned at the sudden sound of her voice again. She hesitated, her chest tightening as her thoughts swirled.

What if it is too much?

What if I scare him away?

But the ache for comfort, for safety, outweighed her fears. She tried again, her voice trembling. “Can you—” She stopped, clamping her lips shut.

“Can I what?”

Rafe prompted gently, his brow furrowing as he tried to meet her eyes, even though her back was still turned. Her heart pounded in her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut, taking a shaky breath, she forced the words out, barely audible.

“Could you… can you hold me - please?”

Rafe stiffened, his chest tightening as her words hung in the air. He looked down at her, the tension in her voice cutting straight through him. “Y/N…” he started, his voice trailing off as his mind churned.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…I don’t want to-”

“I trust you.”

She responded to his cautious response, her voice breaking slightly as she cut him off.

“Please. I just… I just really need this right now.”

The crack in her voice, the vulnerability in her words; it caused his jaw to clench as he wrestled with his thoughts. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to risk pushing her too far, what if he triggered a bad memory, what if he reminded her of what had happened. But then again, how could he say no to her when she needed him like this? Finally, he exhaled, shifting slightly on the bed.

“Alright. . .”

He moved slowly, deliberately, as though afraid to startle her. Sliding down beside her, he positioned himself carefully, his chest lightly brushing her back. His arm hovered above her for a moment, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, before he gently draped it around her waist.

“Is this okay?”

He asked, his voice barely audible. She nodded against the pillow, her breaths still shaky but steadying slightly as his warmth enveloped her. She whispered back to him,

“It’s perfect.”

Please don't let go

His heart panged in his chest as he felt her relax ever so slightly in his hold. He adjusted his arm, pulling her just a little closer, his hand resting lightly on her side. The curve of her back pressed into him, and he could feel the tension in her frame begin to ease. They stayed like that in silence, the soft rhythm of their breathing syncing. Rafe pressed his cheek against the pillow, his eyes fixed on the back of her head, her hair brushing his face slightly, the scent of her shampoo familiar, comforting.

He didn’t say a word, didn’t dare move, afraid to disrupt this newfound sense of intimacy between them. All he could do was hold her and hope that it was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk @sunny1616 @slut-4-gojo @louxmcl @stelleduarte @p0gue420 @maybanksgirl69 @godharryz @sinnerrsworld @rafe-cameronswife @chillgal135 @moneybaby07 @mrsdrewstarkeyy

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waitsobs · 2 days ago

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THE LONG GAME ⋆˚࿔ chapter thirty!

When popular actress y/n l/n's private account gets exposed, it is revealed that she has a crush on one of the girls from the girl group katseye. y//n tries to de-escalate the situation, but makes it worse, and loses her chance with the girl. The only way she think of winning the girl over is by playing the long game.

BEDROOM CONFESSIONS

When y/n walked into her room, she froze, her breath hitching in her throat as her heart skipped a beat. She had expected it to be one of her friends, but instead sitting on her bed was a girl with fiery ginger hair.

“Megan?” y/n questioned, confusion seeping through her words as her eyes widened. “What... what are you doing here?” Her chest tightened, as a rush of old feelings flooded her all at once.

“I texted you, asking if we could talk,” Megan replied, her voice quiet but steady. “You didn’t respond, so… this was the second best option.” A small, almost sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Yeah, I was hanging out with Minji. Sorry,” y/n muttered, her words feeling emptier than she intended as she quickly shut the door behind her, a wall of silence falling between them.

She could feel Megan’s presence like a weight in the room as she made her way to her bed, every step heavier than the last. As she glanced she swears she saw Megan's expression falter for a single second as she sat on the bed, assuring there was a few inches between them.

“I saw,” Megan said, her voice flat, like she was trying to act nonchalant about the mention of Minji, though y/n could feel the tension in the air between them. She cleared her throat, her eyes drifting away for a moment as if gathering courage, before speaking again. “I came here to apologize… for everything. For blocking you, for ghosting you… I’m sorry.”

y/n cut her off before she could say more. “Megan, I already told you, I’m over the whole blocking thing. It’s fine.” But even as the words left her mouth, a heavy bitterness coated them, like she was trying to convince herself more than Megan.

“It’s not fine,” Megan replied, her voice breaking just slightly. She looked at y/n, eyes glistening with something that almost looked like regret. “Everything’s not fine. We haven’t talked in six months, and those were the worst months of my life without you.”

Megan’s words hung in the air, heavy and raw, pulling at y/n’s chest in ways she couldn’t explain.

“And with the whole blocking thing…” Megan began, her voice trembling with the weight of what she wanted to say, but she was immediately cut off by y/n.

“Megan, you really do—” y/n started, her words sharp, but once again, she was interrupted.

“y/n, please, just let me finish,” Megan pleaded, her voice cracking on the last word. y/n hesitated, nodding in silence, her eyes unreadable but her heart pounding, waiting for Megan to speak.

Megan took a shaky breath before continuing, her words coming out slower, like she was afraid to say them, afraid of how they might sound. “I blocked you the first time because I was genuinely upset. You were pretending like you didn’t even know who I was.” Her eyes flickered up y/n’s. “And then the second time I actually don’t know why I did but now I’m wishing I didn’t.”

y/n didn’t know how to respond. She was frozen, She felt like she was caught in a storm of emotions she wasn’t ready to face. The silence between them thickened, each second stretching on like an eternity, neither of them moving or speaking.

y/n broke the silence, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Megan, I have something to tell you.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at her— everything felt too real. Instead, she turned her gaze away and took a shaky breath. “That private account… was mine.” The words felt like they had weight, a thousand emotions tied to them. “Everything that got leaked… it was me.”

When y/n finally dared to look at Megan, she was met with wide, searching eyes, with an emotion behind them that made her want to look away again.

“What?” Megan’s voice cracked, her expression a mix of hurt and disbelief. “Is that why you lied about not knowing who I am?”

“Yeah. When everything came out… I was scared. It all blew up so fast, and it was the only thing I could think of. I didn’t mean for it to go the way it did.” Her voice wavered.

Megan didn’t let her get any further. Her words were laced with something raw, desperate. “Is everything you said about me true?” she asked, her gaze piercing into y/n’s soul. “About you liking me?”

y/n’s chest tightened, the confession that had been lurking in the back of her mind now spilling out faster than she could control, but now that it was out in the open, there was no turning back.

“Yeah,” y/n breathed out, the words heavy on her tongue. “It was true.”

“Was?” Megan’s voice cracked with the weight of the question, her eyes searching y/n’s face for some kind of answer. “Meaning you don’t like me anymore?”

“Megan, I don’t know,” she said, her voice almost breaking. “It’s complicated. Between the blocking and us making up, and then you blocking me again, and us not speaking for two months... and then six months of silence... which, yeah, was my fault too... it got confusing.

Megan agreed, her voice quiet. “Yeah, I see how that’s confusing, and I don’t blame you. I was playing around with you and your emotions, and I’m sorry.”

Y/n let out a heavy sigh, trying to push down the knot in her chest. “Okay, you’ve got to stop apologizing now. I forgive you.” A small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips, but it was enough to let Megan know things were starting to between them were okay.

Megan hesitated, her eyes still searching y/n’s face. “So… are we good now?”

y/n nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Megan's shoulders visibly relaxed, a breath she’d been holding for what felt like forever finally leaving her. “Okay, well then I guess I’ll go then,” she said, rising from the bed, but her movements were slower now.

Y/n quickly tugged on Megan’s shirt, pulling her back down. “Wait a minute,” she said, her voice a little more playful this time. She couldn’t help herself. “You wanna stay a while and watch D.E.B.S.?”

Megan’s face lit up at the suggestion, her smile spreading wider. “You really know me,” she said, laughing lightly.

The pair sat in comfortable silence for a moment, finally free from the tension. It felt like they were starting over, in a good way, and y/n found herself laughing a little, the weight in her chest lifting with each passing second. They were going to be okay. (Maybe)

masterlist ⭑.ᐟ next

taglist: @saysirhc @urmom2314 @artrizzler19@yeetaberry127 @yjiminswallet @lara4eclipze@meiphobic @meizinisnumberone @meganskiendielsbtc @soobnotfound @linnnsworld @1luvkarina @raviolisupremacy @peranoo @vrtualstar @ssamlovr @gtfoiydlyj @firstclassjaylee @kristalag @xochitlisbest @yazzyminny @esccecvp @snoopyiz @vivilvr @fearnotfearmore @apersonwhowrites @blushmimi | taglist closed

#wlw #megan skiendiel #katseye x female reader #smau #megan skiendiel x female reader #black female reader #katseye #katseye smau #katseye x reader #megan skiendiel x reader

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mikanotes · 3 days ago

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heavenly way to,

hyunju x gn!reader

genre: angst comfort, established relationship. » warnings: death, blood, mentions of injuries, murder, firearms, canon divergence. » note: yes i’m back to writing for the series that basically started this blog. hello! i love her.

synopsis: Is sacrifice for your lover a gift to be grateful for, or a burden worth being cursed for? The thought grows heavy on your mind the longer you spend in the games.

“Why?”

Hyunju’s voice has never sounded so broken. She’s too astounded to even think of not letting her guard down, simply weak and vulnerable as she stares up at you. The shake in that one word, the sickening concern in her eyes— It almost makes you regret what just happened.

Almost.

“Because I care about you more than—”

“Nevermind…” she scoffs, eyes widening. She presses her lips together but it doesn’t stop the tremble of a sob waiting to escape her throat. Her gaze averts to a wall in the dormitory, silently putting a stop to whatever you were going to say.

You decide to give her space.

The bathrooms are empty, leaving you silence and space for thinking. You look at your reflection in the mirror, the blood on your face and neck. You did not kill anyone. You assured your safety. You did not kill someone. They were a problem. The thought repeats steadily in your mind as you turn on the faucet, letting water flow into your palms.

It’s as if you can see the overflowing blood on your hands, still. That player you fought to throw out of that room, the sight of the bullet shooting through their head once the door finally locked, the weight of their grip of the other the side of the handle loosening until a thud confirmed the end of a life. But they were in the spot she needed. You could not risk it. What if she had died? It was only right.

The blood washes off. The thought remains. You aren’t sure how long you spend staring at the mirror, barely even really looking at your reflection. You just know you’re asked to return to the dormitory, and that you go to bed, then the lights turn off.

You think Hyunju hates you.

You thought she would come to hate you here over trying to protect her, maybe. Now you realize, now that the blood is there, that she could simply hate you for taking away someone’s life— Even if indirectly. It makes sense to hate a now-murderer.

Yes.

Then, if she hates you, you’ll be able to sacrifice yourself for her sake if need be without wondering how well she’ll take the loss—

“Don’t just disappear.” A familiar soft voice speaks behind you. Hyunju’s arms circle around your waist and her head presses gently into your nape. She’s so warm. You almost forget your train of thoughts.

Once it comes back to you, your expression pulls into confusion. “Sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t think you would mind.”

“Were you trying to give me space?”

“Yeah.”

She sighs, but hugs you tighter. “Because I was angry? Angry that you got yourself in so much unnecessary danger for my sake? Try making some sense.”

Your body relaxes into her hold before you even realize it, and soon, you’re turning over to look at her. She just seems a bit sad. Your hand slowly moves to her face and cradles her cheek, caressing the skin with care. “I pushed someone straight to their death and you’re telling me you were mad because I was in danger?”

She doesn’t respond, simply pursing her lips. A silent yeah. Exactly that.

“In danger? Me?”

“One second off and they could’ve switched you out of the room. And then I would have been alone with someone who practically killed you. And that would have been it. No more you at all,” she explains, and her voice begins shaking, “No more— I wouldn’t see your face anymore, wouldn’t have you with me, wouldn’t have the knowledge you’re there for me when life fucks me over— Think about it, come on.”

She’s trying so hard not to cry and stay quiet you wonder how much it must hurt. So you were wrong. It isn’t at all that person’s death that made her look at you this way. It’s somehow even worse.

You turn fully to return her embrace, hugging her firmly and kissing her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t risk dying for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

She hides her face in your neck. “I love you.”

She says it with every single fiber of her being. After all, her touch, her tears, her words before this— They’re all marks of love. You feel her hand brushing over your arm, an injury you earned yourself during that game. She traces it gently and you think you could never promise her not to die for her.

“I love you too.”

#cho hyunju x reader #cho hyun jun x reader #squid game x reader #hyunju x reader #hyun ju x reader #x reader

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soleilpinto · 21 hours ago

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Cruising in Papaya: Private but not Secret ˚‧｡⋆🍁

“Life’s Better on Saturn ” ˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚ (Saturn, SZA)

Synopsis: Y/N Laurant, a glamorous socialite, meets Lando Norris during a race weekend, sparks fly between the two, but as their feelings deepen, they struggle to balance their secret relationship with their public lives, all while navigating the pressure of the fast-paced F1 scene.

Genre: (Some) Angst, Fluff, Romance

AU: Social Media and Written!au

Pairing: Lando x Afab!Socialite!Reader

Warnings: None

Note: Did not expect to become so busy lately, this is the final part before the actual finale so everyone buckle up 😭 Thank you all for the support once again and as always don’t forget to like + reblog as a form of support!

Cruising in Papaya Masterlist. (Prev./Next.)

@pitlanespy the way y/n and lando are handling their relationship is so refreshing. they’re not flaunting, but they’re not hiding anymore either. we love a balanced couple

@chicanechatter y/n and lando have mastered the art of keeping it private but not secret. leave them alone and let them enjoy their love!

@turn1drama ok but y/n keeping things private yet giving us hints every now and then is such a power move. the girl knows her pr

@papayaruIes well duh, she’s a socialite. she’s practically an expert

@f1gossipupdates I can’t believe Y/N and Lando are finally being open-ish. Like, she really said ‘we’re together, but y’all don’t need all the details.’ I respect it!

The short off-season break had been a rare pocket for you and Lando to relax without the rush of race weekends or the scrutiny of flashing cameras. It was a crisp afternoon in Monaco, the sun reflecting off the gentle waves as the two of you sat on the terrace of Lando’s apartment overlooking the harbor.

With steaming cups of coffee in hand and a blanket draped over your shoulders, the moment felt calm, natural—far removed from the chaotic world outside.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Lando broke the silence, his voice soft. “Being able to just exist without worrying about anyone watching.”

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It does. I was almost starting to forget what that felt like.”

The two of you had tiptoed the fine line between privacy and secrecy, but the responses to your soft launch had been surprisingly supportive.

Fans who had once speculated endlessly about your relationship now seemed to respect the boundaries you were trying to set. It was refreshing, almost liberating.

Lando set his mug down and turned to face you fully, his expression growing more serious. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he began, hesitating just enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

“That sounds ominous,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled but didn’t look away, his blue eyes searching yours.

“I don’t want us to hide anymore,” he admitted.

“I mean, I know we’ve already agreed to keep the details of our relationship private—and I want to stick to that. But I hate the thought of going to the next Grand Prix without you. It feels wrong now like I’m leaving a part of me behind.”

Your heart softened at his words, but you couldn’t help the cautious tone in your response. “Lando, you know how intense it can get. Even with the positive reactions, there will always be backlash. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

He reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything. I’ve been through enough to know that people will always have something to say, but it doesn’t matter to me. What matters is us—and I want you there with me, not just in the background but by my side. I think we can handle it together.”

You studied his face, finding nothing but sincerity in his expression. It was hard not to be moved by his resolve. You had spent so much time questioning if the two of you could make it work, but Lando’s unwavering confidence in your relationship made you want to believe it too.

“And you think it’ll make things easier if I’m there with you?” you asked, your voice teasing but soft.

He grinned, leaning closer. “I know it will. Plus, you being there might actually make all those post-race media sessions bearable.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Norris. You win. I’ll come with you to the next Grand Prix—but you’d better promise to share some of the attention.”

His face lit up with a mixture of relief and happiness, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Deal.”

As the two of you sat back, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow around you, it was clear that this decision marked the start of a new chapter. No more hiding in shadows or ducking behind corners. You would face the world together, one race at a time.

The soft hum of Monte Carlo filled the space between your words as you sipped your coffee, the warmth of the mug grounding you.

Pietra leaned back into the plush armchair across you, her curiosity palpable as the sunlight bathed your living room in a golden hue.

“So,” Pietra began again, her voice playful yet genuinely inquisitive. “Are we finally getting the tea on you and Lando?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you set your mug down on the table. “You’re so nosy.”

“Nosy?” she retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Please, I’ve been invested ever since that media meltdown since your birthday. There’s a difference. Now spill.”

Her lighthearted tone brought a smile to your face, but the memories of the past month made your chest tighten slightly.

Pietra had been one of your closest confidantes ever since you met Lando's close circle, one of the few who truly understood the chaos of public scrutiny and the complexities of trying to maintain a personal life within it.

If anyone could handle the details of what you’d been through, it was her.

Taking a deep breath, you began. “We’re good now,” you said, the words feeling like a balm as they left your lips. “Really good, actually. But it wasn’t always like that.”

Pietra’s expression shifted, her teasing giving way to concern. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “What happened?”

You hesitated, your fingers lightly tracing the rim of your coffee mug as you gathered your thoughts.

“When everything blew up, it felt like the world was against us. The media was relentless, fans were speculating every little thing, and it felt like we couldn’t catch a break. It all came to a head, and we ended up having this huge fight.”

Her brows knitted together. “Over the media?”

“It was more than that,” you admitted. “It was the pressure, the constant hiding, the fear that we’d never be able to have something real outside of all the noise. Lando was frustrated, and I don’t blame him. But he said some things…” You trailed off, the memory still stinging.

Pietra reached over, placing a comforting hand on yours. “Things that hurt?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. And I was so overwhelmed, I left. Went back to Saint Tropez. For a while, I thought that was it for us. I couldn’t see how we’d come back from it.”

She squeezed your hand gently, her voice soft. “But you did.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“We did. During the break, Lando found out I was in Monaco. He called me—said he wanted to talk, that he couldn’t leave things the way they were. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see him, but when I did…” You paused, exhaling deeply. “It felt like the right thing to do.”

Pietra’s eyes softened, her smile encouraging you to continue.

“We had a long talk. About everything—what we want, what we’re afraid of, what we’re willing to do to make this work. It wasn’t easy, but we both realized that letting go wasn’t an option. We care about each other too much to let all the outside noise ruin what we have.”

Pietra leaned back, her smile widening. “That’s huge, Y/N. It sounds like you both really fought for this.”

You nodded, the relief of the memory settling over you. “We did. And now, we’re taking it one step at a time. He asked me to come to the next Grand Prix with him. He doesn’t want us to hide anymore, and honestly, I don’t either. But we’ve agreed to keep things private—no oversharing, no giving the media more than they need. Just us, on our terms.”

Pietra’s grin turned mischievous. “Oh, I can’t wait to see the paddock’s reaction when you show up with him again. The fans are going to lose it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sure they will. But for the first time, it doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels… manageable.”

“That’s because you’re doing it the right way,” Pietra said confidently. “You’re setting boundaries, and you’re doing this together. It’s going to be okay.”

“Thanks, Pietra,” you said, your smile grateful. “It feels good to finally have some clarity, to know that we’re in this together.”

“Absolutely,” she said, a sparkle in her eye. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. You owe me every detail about how it goes when you’re back at the Grand Prix.”

You laughed, feeling a lightness you hadn’t in weeks. “Oh, trust me, I’ll have plenty to share.”

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of hope. For the first time in a while, the future with Lando felt bright, and you were ready to take on whatever came next—together.

liked by mclaren, lando and others

laurant.yn off-season kick off

francisca.cgomes 😍

mclaren starting the break right 🧡

lando ❤️

@f1landolove SHE POSTED HIM. SHE REALLY POSTED HIM. Y/N AND LANDO ARE OFFICIALLY OFFICIAL. I’M SCREAMING. 😭❤️

@paddockqueen_ Not me refreshing my feed 100 times today just to confirm it wasn’t a fever dream. Y/N posted Lando on her MAIN. THE MAIN!!! 🔥👀

@pitstopsocialite_ Y/N really said, “Soft launch era is OVER.” That pic of Lando is giving boyfriend energy. We love to see it. 🥰

@f1overdrive Okay, but I’m lowkey jealous… Y/N Laurant is the definition of having it all. Fashion icon + F1 driver boyfriend? Goals

@neutralnora Honestly, happy for them. Y/N seems like she keeps Lando grounded, and he deserves that. 🥹

@shadypaddock I give it six months. Relationships in the spotlight rarely last. 🙄

The energy in Singapore was electric, the vibrant city buzzing with excitement as race weekend loomed closer. You stood beside Lando, your suitcase rolling quietly behind you as you both exited the airport.

The humid air wrapped around you, mingling with the chatter of fans and photographers who had already spotted you.

Flashes of cameras ignited like small bursts of lightning, and the occasional murmur of your name reached your ears. You instinctively glanced at Lando, who gave you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.

“We’re really doing this,” you said softly, your voice a mix of nerves and determination.

“Yeah, we are,” Lando replied, his eyes meeting yours with steady resolve. “No more hiding. No more letting them control the narrative. It’s just us, and we’re not apologizing for it.”

The ride to the hotel was quiet, the occasional buzz of your phone from notifications breaking the silence. You knew the media frenzy was already kicking off—pictures and videos of the two of you had likely hit social media within minutes of your arrival. But for the first time, you didn’t feel the weight of it.

As you stepped into the hotel lobby together, the atmosphere shifted. Fans waiting in the lounge glanced your way, some pulling out their phones, their whispers barely audible over the soft music playing in the background.

“People are watching,” you said under your breath, your fingers brushing against his arm.

Lando chuckled lightly. “Let them watch. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

His nonchalant attitude eased the tension in your shoulders, and you found yourself smiling despite the circumstances. The two of you checked in without a hitch, the staff professional and discreet, even as you caught sight of a few camera flashes from outside the glass doors.

Once you reached the privacy of your suite, the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding finally began to dissipate. You sank onto the plush couch, letting out a long exhale.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you said, glancing at Lando as he placed your bags by the wall.

He sat beside you, leaning back with a grin. “See? I told you. We can handle this.”

You turned to face him, your expression softening. “It’s just… surreal. To finally be here with you, not worrying about every little thing. I mean, I know the rumors and gossip won’t stop, but it feels different now.”

“It does,” Lando agreed, taking your hand in his. “Because we’re not letting it control us anymore. We’re doing this our way, on our terms.”

You nodded, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “It’s going to take some getting used to, though. I’m sure the paddock will have a lot to say.”

“Let them,” Lando said with a shrug, his tone calm but firm. “I don’t care what they think, as long as you’re with me.”

His words sent a wave of reassurance through you, and you squeezed his hand gently. “You’re really good at this whole boyfriend thing, you know that?”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple. “I try.”

The two of you spent the evening talking, discussing how you’d navigate the paddock together, and agreeing to address any questions with a united front. By the time you went to bed, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t in months.

The Singapore paddock buzzed with excitement, the air thick with humidity and anticipation for the race weekend ahead. As you and Lando walked through the gates together, it was impossible not to notice the ripple of energy your presence caused.

Fans lining the barriers gasped, some clutching their phones tightly as they captured the moment.

“There they are!” someone whispered loudly, their voice barely audible over the collective murmurs. “It’s Y/N and Lando!”

Flashes from cameras and phones lit up around you as you kept a steady pace beside Lando. He was calm, his expression relaxed but confident, while you mirrored his composure, your hand grazing his arm lightly as if to reassure yourself.

Fans erupted into chatter, their voices mixing with the distant hum of engines.

“Oh my God, they’re actually together.” “Do you think this means they’re official-official?” “They’re not hiding anymore, but they’re still so lowkey. I love it.”

As you passed a group of fans holding up McLaren flags, Lando glanced their way with a small wave and a quick smile. You couldn’t help but grin when you heard someone squeal, “He looks so happy!”

Inside the paddock, the atmosphere was no less intense. Team members and media professionals stole glances at the two of you, some openly curious, others trying to act nonchalant.

You caught sight of a camera crew lingering near the McLaren hospitality, their lenses subtly but unmistakably trained on you and Lando.

“Ready for the circus?” Lando muttered under his breath, leaning slightly toward you.

You smirked, keeping your gaze forward. “I think I can handle it. You’re the one who’s got to focus on racing.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch. “I’ve got that part covered. It’s the rest of this that’s new for me.”

Before either of you could say more, you spotted Lily Zneimer and Hattie Piastri approaching from the McLaren hospitality, their faces lighting up when they saw you.

“You’re here!” Lily exclaimed, her voice full of excitement as she pulled you into a quick hug. “I was wondering when you’d show up!”

Hattie grinned, giving Lando a knowing look before turning to you. “And here I thought you’d keep us guessing forever.”

You laughed, your nerves easing slightly. “I figured it was time. Can’t keep hiding forever, right?”

“Exactly,” Lily agreed, linking her arm with yours. “And you’ve got us. The paddock isn’t so bad once you’ve got the right people.”

Lando excused himself briefly to check in with his team, leaving you with Lily and Hattie. You felt the stares around you but found yourself surprisingly unbothered, their presence grounding you.

When Lando returned, he didn’t hesitate to rejoin you, his arm brushing against yours in a way that felt both casual and intimate. He didn’t seem fazed by the whispers or the cameras subtly tracking your every move.

Instead, he leaned down slightly and murmured, “Told you we’ve got this.”

You glanced up at him, the corner of your mouth lifting into a small smile. “We do.”

As the two of you walked deeper into the paddock, side by side, it was clear to everyone watching: while you weren’t laying out the details of your relationship, you weren’t hiding it anymore, either. And from the way fans’ excited chatter filled the air, it seemed they couldn’t be happier to finally see you together.

Taglist: @bakingpiastries @linnygirl09

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channiesbakery · 1 day ago

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doggy play date —

prompt / request — "that's not even your dog.”

pairing — reader + non idol!dokyeom

word count — 882

genre — fluff

you were a regular at the cafe seokmin worked at. he’s had a crush on you ever since you came in for the first time months ago.

today, he finally worked up the courage to ask you out. except he made a teeny tiny mistake of asking you out on a play date for your dogs instead of a date with just you.

another mistake? he doesn’t even own a dog.

“can i borrow latte?” seokmin asks soonyoung the minute he walks into his friend’s apartment. “my… dog?” soonyoung questions, unsure if he’d heard the question correctly.

“no, your cup of coffee. yes your dog!” seokmin exclaims sarcastically. “but why?” soonyoung furrows his eyebrows.

“i may or may not have set up a date with a girl i met at a cafe,” he starts to explain. “good for you man,” soonyoung grins, patting his shoulder.

“except it’s less of a date for us and more of a play date for our dogs,” seokmin finishes as soonyoung just stares at him blankly.

“so you set up a date for your nonexistent dog,” soonyoung repeats. “i know i sound insane–” seokmin starts. “I’m surprised you didn’t go buy a dog,” soonyoung says.

“can i borrow latte or not?” he sighs. “if it’ll help your love life,” soonyoung smirks a little. “but you owe me big time.” he adds.

a couple days later, you meet at the dog park, letting your dogs get acquainted while you and seokmin sat on the bench, starting to get to know each other.

you start talking about your dogs, asking him questions about latte: when he got her, why’d he choose the name latte, etc.

seokmin felt like he was sweating, trying to come up with lies to answer your questions. he felt bad for lying but he wanted to go out with you so bad that the only way he thought of bonding over you was your pets. well, your real pet and his borrowed dog.

the entire time you chatted, his brain was screaming “that’s not even your dog!!!” at him but he didn’t want to confess his stupid lie just yet.

“hey, a new cafe opened close by if you want to get a quick bite? i hear they have some dog friendly treats so our pups can have something too,” you suggest.

“that sounds like a great idea,” he agrees with a smile.

you walk to the cafe, both of your dogs walking ahead of you on their leashes. your hand brushes against his a few times and seokmin fights the urge to intertwine your fingers.

even after spending nearly two hours at the cafe, neither of you were ready to part just yet.

“you’ve got to be one of the most charming guys I’ve ever gone out with,” you laugh as you walk along the sidewalk, not really having a destination in mind.

“oh so this is a date? i thought this was just a play date for our dogs?” he teases. “you saying you don’t want this to be a date?” you gasp. “no i definitely like the idea of this being a date,” he smiles.

“so much that I’m not ready for it to end,” he admits. “well, we’re not too far from my place… how about a drink? i don’t think latte’s ready to say goodbye either,” you nod towards the two dogs walking ahead.

the dogs run off as soon as you take their leashes off in your apartment while you lead seokmin to your living room.

he takes a seat on your couch while you step into the kitchen to grab two beers.

your conversations continue naturally, your topics going all over the place. neither of you notice it but you keep moving closer to each other.

seokmin brushes a stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. his eyes glance down at your lips before you lean in, waiting for him to close the gap.

his lips move softly against yours, his hand cradling the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he hears a bark from the other room, he suddenly remembers what led to his current position.

“okay i really need to confess something before this goes any further,” seokmin sighs, pulling away from your lips.

“uh oh. are you gonna tell me you’re a serial killer?” you tease. “okay it’s not that bad,” he chuckles. “so what’s the confession?” you hum.

“latte isn’t exactly… mine,” he says and you’re silent for a second. “oh my god, you kidnapped a dog? that might be worse than a serial killer,” you gasp.

“what? no! no, no! i didn’t kidnap her, I’m just borrowing her!” he quickly exclaims. “i’ve kinda had a crush on you for months and i fucked up when i asked you out only to make it a play date for our dogs,” he explains sheepishly.

“except you don’t have a dog, apparently,” you say, clearly amused with the situation. “i know, i know. i fucked up,” he sighs.

“it’s okay, i forgive you,” you hum, leaning in close again. “i kinda have a crush on you too. besides, you kidnapped a dog just to take me out on a date,” you tease, kissing him as he groans.

“i didn’t kidnap her!”

#dk x reader #dk fluff #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom fluff #lee seokmin x reader #lee seokmin fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt x reader #channiesbakery drabbles

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jjunbug · 1 day ago

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nico you get me so so bad,, hehe thank you so much for reading and i’m extremely happy that you loved it!! (´ω｀*) like if mc doesn’t want sunghoon then move over girl and let me handle it‼️‼️ also 14 year old you 🤝 13 year old me

BUT YES YES YES YOU GET IT!!!! perfectionism is so deeply ingrained into her that she then spreads that perfectionism to everything around her, especially sunghoon. even when the the evidence of how sunghoon isn’t as good as she believes, she refuses to believe it and instead starts gaslight herself that he’d never do something like that… he doesn’t even need to say anything when she’s doing all the gaslight and manipulation herself.

and yes!!!!!!! majority of the time when they’re intimate is him just committing her to his memory to use later, even if he doesn’t realize it or doesn’t mean to do it. it’s just who he is… call it obsession or devotion, but you can’t deny that he really does love her to his core in his own unique twisted way!!

trust me when i saw i was choking myself out too writing the whole smut scene like i need freaky dollmaker sunghoon DESPERATELY. or i will explode and die.

it’s crazy because she doesn’t even realize that she’s being manipulated, i don’t even think he realizes that he’s manipulating her (sort of, at least not in the traditional sense)…. to her, that’s completely normal… like yeahh the entire house is filled with dolls of me and my husband is currently trying to make a life-sized version, but hey that’s love right?!?!! and YESS!!!! even at the very end, when it all comes down to it, she’ll always go to him no matter what.

hehehe ily nico thank you so so much for reading!!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i hope i didn’t drive you too insane with all of my spoilers and thank you for giggling with me about how much of a freak dollmaker sunghoon is ♡♡♡

THE DOLLMAKER ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸ 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ established relationship, angsty & mature themes, smut, some fluff, husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic vibes, supernatural elements

warnings ⸝⸝ dark content, heavy dubcon, dollification, mentions of murder and kidnapping, really creepy dolls, sunghoon is actually insane lmao, heavy gaslighting, possessiveness, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, heavy body worship, slow sex to rough sex and back to soft sex (you’ll see), manhandling, handjob, cumshots, clit stimulation, fingering, brief somnophilia, slight dacryphilia, mentions of oral (f. rec), praise, petnames (my love, darling, doll), hair pulling (m. rec), cockwarming, a lot of skinship, teasing, brief nipple play, mentions of aftercare, they are very very codependent, traditional marriage aspects

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ went a bit insane writing this because why is the smut scene alone 5.4k words??? but it’s finally here!! my first post on my new blog (that’s not part of a series) and my first darker content fic!! this was really fun to write and opened a primal lust within me for sunghoon that made me crazier… hehe enjoy loves!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 14.8k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶. list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

You always strived to be nothing short of perfect, and you were immensely proud at the fact that you have never strayed from the path of the idealized woman in the eyes of their beholder.

And you were perfect. The perfect person, the perfect woman, the perfect wife. It was what you were born and bred to be, and with a smile you lived your life knowing that not a single frizzy strand of hair was out of place nor was there a single wrinkle in your dress. You were pretty, pristine, perfect. You’d ask for nothing more.

But, as the days started to pass—and your husband was out later and later for work—you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat. Gone were the days where you’d be set alight with how well you presented yourself—with how much your husband loved to stare at you. These days, you just wanted to be.

In the beginning, you loved to be under Sunghoon’s watchful eye. You loved how he’d dress you in perfectly fitting clothes suited to what he loved to see you in—frills and lace. Loved how he’d fluff your hair if it was too flat or if it wasn’t up to his standard, or smooth down the fabric of your dress. You loved when he treated you like his perfect little doll. It meant the world to you, especially when it came from such an expert dollmaker like your husband himself. In his eyes, it meant you were the best of the best, that no other doll that he has made could compare—his perfect creation.

Now, the more you think about it, the more your throat closes up. But, as much as you’re growing to hate the idea, you just can’t let go of the deeply rooted perfectionism you still strive for. It’s as if it’s embedded in your skin, as if it’s in the marrow of your bones and in the blood that pumps through your veins. You don’t know how to live a life that isn't perfect, and at this point, you’re too scared to find out what that life entails.

So you put on the dress Sunghoon lays out for you before work and you style your hair just the way he likes it—and you be perfect. Because that is all you know how to do.

You stare at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom, your brows knitted together. Confusion spread throughout your body as you tried to put a name to what you were feeling. Disgust, maybe? Hatred? You didn’t know. Sighing softly to yourself, you picked up your makeup brush and dusted more of the blush onto your cheeks.

Sunghoon had already left for work, so it didn’t even really matter what you looked like right now. You stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. Dolls of various sizes greeted your sight. Some had intricate and realistic outfits, the same ones that you wore, and some of them were more plainly dressed. There were dolls everywhere in your home, even some perched on the open shelves of your kitchen. It was a little girl’s dream home. The most unsettling thing about all the dolls around you no matter where you turned was how much every single one of them resembled you in some way.

It was as if Sunghoon could never quite capture your likeness exactly. With some dolls, their eyes were too big, their lips were too small, or the arch of their brow wasn’t quite right. Sometimes he couldn’t accurately carve the curve of your nose. You knew it drove him mad, not being able to immortalize you in his craft.

“You’re too flawless,” Sunghoon had told you once. You were laying in bed together and the tips of his fingers trailed along your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He used to always give you goosebumps, the good ones. Now it feels more like a chill down your spine.

You stared up at him from your pillow and watched as his eyes devoured your frame. His fingers twitched, briefly stopping their descent back down your arm, and you could tell he had the urge to test his hand at making you again. “I don’t think I’m flawless,” you smile at him, “I’m just as flawed as everyone else—just as human.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked up to your face, specifically to your smile, like he was committing it all to memory. He moved the hand that was trialing your shoulder up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently caressed the soft skin before he grazed it along your lips. There was a certain glint in Sunghoon’s eyes that you knew all too well.

“You’re flawless to me,” he stated. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and pulled it down a little. You watched as his pupils dilated and the mix of lust and fascination that swirled in them grew. Ever so slightly, his eyes widened, too. Sunghoon moved his thumb down to your chin before leaning down to press his lips to yours.

He captured them with a certain roughness—the type that always shocked you with how gentle it initially seemed. Sunghoon’s hand grabbed your chin harder, his fingers creating soft indents into your skin as he leaned your head back and further into the pillow.

You were so moldable for Sunghoon, a shiny lump of clay ready for his skilled hands to turn you into a masterpiece. He hummed into the kiss and his teeth delicately bit down into the flesh of your bottom lip, only enough to not leave a mark. You moaned into his mouth, your arms raising to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer. In response, Sunghoon pulled his lips away from yours. He pressed feather light kisses to your cheek and up to the shell of your ear. “You’re my muse,” he whispered, before his head dipped to the crook of your neck to leave kisses there too.

You suppose that being so perfect wasn’t so bad if it meant that Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off of you—if it meant that he couldn't keep his hands off of his tools to try and remake you over and over again. Perhaps you were viewing it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a noose around your throat, but a pretty handmade necklace crafted by his nimble fingers. If it meant that Sunghoon never leaves, then you could be as perfect as he wanted forever. If it meant that he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, then you would be his doll for as long as you lived.

Maybe it wasn’t perfectionism at all, but an act of complete devotion—an act of love.

Sunghoon left open-mouthed kisses along your chest and moved further and further down until the lace of your lingerie blocked his lips from your skin. He pulled away from you fully and looked down at it like he was offended. You squirmed beneath him, your chest heaving as you tried to take in any air that you possibly could. “Please,” you inhaled, looking up at him desperately.

You weren’t quite sure what you were begging for exactly; maybe for his lips to be back on your skin, or maybe for him to quell the heat radiating from your body. “Please,” you said again, your voice coming out quieter and more forlorn.

Sunghoon ran his hands underneath the sheer fabric at your stomach and you gasped at his touch. “So soft,” he sighed contently, hands trailing further up until they physically couldn’t anymore and were blocked by the lace at your breasts. His calloused hands were a stark contrast to your velvety skin and the slight roughness made you shiver.

He pushed the sheer fabric up your stomach with the movement of his hands until the bottom half of your body was completely bare under him. Sunghoon must’ve decided that he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear to take the extra second to lift the lingerie over your head, because the harsh sound of fabric ripping filled your ears and the swift coldness of sudden exposure had you gasping again.

Sunghoon tossed the tattered fabric somewhere off to the side next to the two of you and in the corner of your eye you saw it fall to the floor below. His hands surged upwards, no longer bound by the restraints of your lingerie, and grabbed your breasts. Sunghoon’s thumbs rubbed against your hardened nipples and you arched your back off the mattress to give him more access. His hands dropped down to your thighs and he pushed them towards your stomach as he spread them further apart.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched when his eyes finally got a look at your glistening pussy, completely on display for him. His hand then moved from the back of your thigh and he dragged his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips. “Perfect,” Sunghoon breathed out.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he did to you every night—left you in a heap before cleaning you off and making you new again. You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy. You knew that it was just a morbid curiosity. As long as he remained by your side, you were content in being a pile of doll parts for him to play with as he pleased.

In your bedroom, your eyes landed on a doll that wasn’t there when you had stepped into the bathroom. It sat in the center of your bed, dressed in the same lingerie that Sunghoon had ripped up. It didn’t look at you, but at the entrance of the room, with the hint of a smile that you knew was carved into the doll but couldn’t help but feel was mocking.

No matter how often it happened, you’ll never get used to the fact that the dolls moved around on their own. It only happened when you were home alone. The dolls never dared to move when their maker was home, but you still felt their eyes on you nonetheless. You had told Sunghoon about it—the two of you even waited around to see if one of them would move, but they never did. It was extremely frustrating.

You sighed at the doll and straightened your back. Leaving said doll where it was without a word, you left your room to put a start to your day.

What you weren't expecting was even more moved dolls in your kitchen. You stopped in your tracks as different, mini, and almost identical versions of you stared directly at you from the kitchen table in a circle. Usually it was only one doll that moved here and there, but this many moved dolls in the span of minutes was completely odd. Cautiously, you stalked towards them to see what they were surrounding.

It was the TV remote. You scoffed.

You grabbed the remote with a roll of your eyes. Aiming it towards the tiny box TV in the kitchen, you clicked it on and placed the remote back down onto the table next to the dolls. You let whatever channel it was left on play in the background as you started making breakfast for yourself.

“We’re here with the mother of one of those young girls today. Can you tell us a little about your daughter, ma’am?” you heard the news reporter ask. You took a pan out from under the lower cabinet and placed it onto the stove, ticking on the heat. You watched as a flame ignited, quick and large as lightning, before calming to something smaller.

A grief stricken voice filled your ears next between your soft humming. You didn’t realize that it was the tune Sunghoon always hummed when working from home—something he didn’t do as often anymore. “She was the most beautiful girl in the world—the most gentle and kind. She loved everyone and she loved love. My daughter was the single spark in this bleak night. Please, if you know where she is, please let a mother know.”

You moved about the kitchen, ignoring the way the dolls’ eyes seemed to follow your every move. Cracking the egg, you let it fall into the pan with a sizzle, fanning away the sudden smoke that rises. “The news station also has an anonymous tip hotline open for anyone who may know any information. The search for the six missing girls is still on. This Friday, the mayor will hold another search party and encourages everyone who can to join.”

Turning to throw away the shell of the egg, you caught a glimpse of the TV. “This has been—” You gasped, the shell falling to the tile below with a soft crack as your hand flew to cover your mouth. On the small screen were the pictures of the six missing girls—six missing girls who all looked eerily alike to one another, eerily alike to you. You rushed forward towards the screen, desperately needing to get a closer look at the girls’ image.

Fear and panic prickled at your skin and clawed its way up your throat. What if you were next? What if whoever was taking these girls had their eye on you to take next? You glanced around the kitchen, the dolls suddenly gone from the kitchen table and perched back in their rightful places on various shelves. What if one day you stepped out of your home to run an errand only to be met with a cloth to your nose and mouth?

You began to tremble as you focused your attention back onto the TV. Did the police have anything on who was taking the girls? Any physical descriptions or perhaps a drawing? You waited for the news to mention anything else, but they didn’t.

Lightheaded, you felt yourself begin to spiral. Your hands grabbed tight to the kitchen counter as you tried to steady yourself and not let the fear cloud your mind. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe you just happened to look like those girls but the perpetrator was after someone else. You inhaled sharply, trying to swallow down the fear and panic and let the oxygen get through instead.

The sudden loud ringing of the smoke alarm startled you and made you jump. The eggs. They were still on the stove! “Oh!” you breathed as you hurriedly moved to turn off the stove. You accidentally stepped on the egg shell in the process. “Oh no,” you said softly under your breath as you moved from the stove to the trash can. You scraped off the burnt eggs, your appetite suddenly gone. You sat the pan in the sink for you to wash later.

Bending down, you meticulously picked up the pieces of egg shells on the floor to throw away as well. When you turned from the trash, there was a singular doll back on the kitchen counter. You jumped again.

It pointed towards the hallway to get to your living room, unblinking. You stared at it for a moment—at yourself. Why were the dolls doing this? “Fine,” you say, smoothing out your dress, “I’ll play along.” You need a distraction from the missing girls anyhow.

You left the kitchen and made your way down the hallway that the doll pointed to. As you slowly made your way down it, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary besides the way the various dolls’ eyes followed you. You make the bend to the end of the hallway and freeze.

At the end of the hallway was the displayed dollhouse that you didn’t touch. Sunghoon didn’t even let you clean it, opting to clean it himself. It meant a lot to him and he took great care for it to be in as pristine condition as possible. The dollhouse was a perfect replica of your home, down to the welcome sign you weaved on the front of the door. You’ve never even seen the inside of it… until now.

There was a crowd of dolls on the ground below it, more than you’ve ever seen moved before, pointing up at the scene portrayed in it. Swallowing thickly, you stepped further forward as a chill ran down your back.

In the dollhouse were only three dolls: one of you, one of Sunghoon, and one that you couldn’t even begin to understand what it could be. You took another cautious step forward, leaning in to get a better look and taking care to not step on any of the dolls. The scene depicted in the dollhouse was quite simple. You were upstairs in you and Sunghoon bedroom, asleep. Sunghoon was in some room you’ve never seen before, carving away at a doll that you could only assume was of you. Behind him was the other doll, covered in different, mismatched layers of fabric. It was so covered by copious amounts of fabric that it didn’t even seem to have the body of a doll anymore. It was almost grotesque looking, in a way.

Very quietly, almost indistinct, you heard the same melody Sunghoon hums when working. Your eyes widened in shock as you furiously tried to digest and decipher the scene. You shook your head a little. “I don’t understand,” you say, the confusion dripping from your voice. “What does this mean? What is that behind him?”

There was a creaking behind you and you swung around at the sound. More dolls were behind you, pointing. You weren’t sure if they were pointing at you or the dollhouse. Maybe it was both. You swung back around to the dollhouse when you heard something move.

Now Sunghoon was in front of the other fabric-covered doll. His doll was slightly bent at the torso and his head was tilted. The thin, wire-framed glasses he wears sat low on his nose bridge. You knew that look—that inspecting look. That morbid curiosity. It felt as if the dolls were screaming at you, “Do you understand now?” You still weren’t sure that you did. Too many puzzle pieces were missing from the board and it hindered you from seeing the whole picture. The sound of Sunghoon’s humming still filled your ears and you didn’t know what to do to stop it.

More creaking and you turned to look behind you. More dolls. They filled the entire hallway, their tiny fingers pointing at you, trying to force you to understand what they were trying to show you. Behind you, the dollhouse began to violently shake and you gasped as you looked at it. Sunghoon was now back in the bedroom with you. He stood over you, his hand hovering over your arm. You knew the action it was trying to convey—you could feel the tips of his fingers trailing up and down your actual arm now, making you shiver.

You stumbled backwards, even more confused and scared at the shaking dollhouse. The front of the dollhouse slammed shut, locking in the scene of you and Sunghoon inside, and stilled. Your chest rose and fell heavily and you clumsily stumbled your way out of the hallway and into the living room, avoiding any pointing doll that you could.

Later that day when Sunghoon came home from work, you didn’t mention the moving dolls or the dollhouse. It was as if nothing happened at all, every doll was where he placed them and the dollhouse was just as pristine as he left it. You especially didn’t dare mention the scenes depicted in the dollhouse. You feared your husband would think you were crazy.

You carried the plate of hot food to where Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table. “Eat up!” you smiled placing the plate in front of him before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You felt him smile before you pulled away. You were turning to make yourself a plate when Sunghoon grabbed your wrist to stop you. You jumped, a gasp slipping between your lips. Trying to cover it all up, you turned back to Sunghoon with a smile.

His own smile faltered and his thick brows drew together. “Thank you, darling…” he trailed, the words falling from his lips one by one. “What’s wrong? You’re never so jumpy.”

You’d been jumpy since he got home, still shaken from the morning’s encounter. It was so bad that you nearly burnt yourself on the stove while making dinner, suddenly startled by the sound of the front door opening and Sunghoon returning home from work. When he kissed you hello, his arms coming to wrap around you, you jumped then too. You tried to distract him with your smile, but you should’ve known that nothing gets past your husband.

“It’s nothing,” you say, smiling again and giving him a slight shake of your head. “I guess my body is just getting used to not being by itself now that you’re home.”

Sunghoon sighed and pulled you back towards him by your wrist. You let yourself be pulled into his lap. Sunghoon buried his head in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words coming out muffled. “I know I've been working more and more lately and I haven’t had much time for you.”

You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Can’t you work from home?” you asked meekly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Like you used to? You work so much and you’re always gone. I miss you when you’re not here, and in return I’m sad the whole day.”

Sunghoon’s black hair tickled you as he lifted his head to press his lips to your neck, right where the thumping of your heart could be felt. His eyes met yours and the gentle pout of your lips. “I don’t have all the tools here that I do at the shop,” Sunghoon responded. When you sighed again and looked away, he continued. “But, I might be able to work from here tomorrow… I already finished most of the workload. We can spend tomorrow together, what do you say to that?”

You glanced back at him, trying to not let the happiness you felt break through your sulky demeanor. Clearly, it didn’t work, because the smile returned back to Sunghoon’s face even larger this time. “I suppose that’s okay,” you grumbled, the smile tugging more at your lips by the second.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Yeah?” You nodded, giggling at the way he dragged his nose along your cheek and the coldness of his glasses. “I love that sound,” he says, holding you closer. “I want to hear it forever.” He pulled away from you just enough to get a good look at your flustered face. Sunghoon brought his lips to yours, capturing them in a sweet and slow kiss.

Giggling more into the kiss, you broke away from him with great effort. “Eat,” you say, standing to your feet. Sunghoon didn’t let you get far. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Your dinner smells amazing, my love, but I think I want something else on the menu,” Sunghoon replies. You swatted him with the kitchen towel hanging from the pocket of your apron, your mouth falling into an open-mouthed laugh. Sunghoon just laughed more. “Do what I said,” you scolded him.

Sunghoon pulled you down to chastely kiss your lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

That night as you were getting ready for bed, you gathered all the courage you had. As you moved about your bedroom, Sunghoon watched you from the bed, his eyes trailing your figure and never leaving it. He was lounged up against the bed frame, his head tilted and the wire frames of his glasses low on his nose bridge as he stared. You were in the middle of brushing your hair, trying your best not to get crushed underneath his heavy stare. You were as bare as you could be without taking your clothes off.

When you stood from your vanity, the flowy fabric of your short nightgown moving with you, you met his gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke and you just stared at each other. “Those missing girls…” you started, finally finding your voice, “on the news… Isn’t it odd that they favor me?” Your voice shook slightly and you swallowed down the lump forming in your throat.

Sunghoon sat up straighter, his eyes still on you as his brows drew together. You looked away, shakily climbing into the bed next to him. “I-I mean… how they favor each other. And I favor them too, don’t you think?” you continue. You really hoped that you didn’t sound crazy. That your time alone in the house hasn’t started to drive you mad and see things that aren’t there—that aren’t true. Finally getting settled as the words poured from your mouth, you looked over to him. For a split second, his face was completely devoid of anything—no emotion, not even a quirk of his eyebrow, nothing. Then, in a blink of an eye, his face was how it was before you looked away from him. Maybe you were crazy after all.

“I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you said in the gentlest whisper, “What if I’m next?”

“Missing girls?” Sunghoon says, “I’ve heard about them. But, don’t worry—” he reached over to caress your cheek “—I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here, with me.” His hand on your cheek trailed down to the crook of your neck and then to your shoulder before he pulled you towards him. The two of you laid down onto the bed and Sunghoon enveloped you completely in his arms. You rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “No one but me will ever touch you,” Sunghoon muttered against your hair.

His comforting words did nothing to dispose of the uneasy feeling you still harbored. The images of those missing girls were burned into your mind and every time you tried to close your eyes and sleep, you saw them staring back at you. While Sunghoon fell fast asleep, him still keeping you protectively in his arms, you lied awake.

Your mind shifted from the missing girls, to the moving dolls, and to the dollhouse. What did it all mean? What were they trying to tell you? You went over the scenes portrayed over and over and over again and still didn’t get it. The answer seemed so close, but so far away at the same time. What were you missing?

You thought about the scene of Sunghoon standing over you while you slept. Did he always do that, stare at you like that? How often did he do it? You wanted to ask him, but you didn’t want to risk him thinking there was something wrong with you—didn’t want to risk him thinking that you weren’t flawless like he believes. And the way he trailed his fingers over the soft skin of your arm… Perhaps it was just him checking on you. Maybe he left the room for some water and when he came back he was making sure you were okay. Yeah, that sounded logical.

Him touching you wasn’t something new—he always touched you at any chance that he could. Always admiring every curve and plane of you completely, it’s normal for him to do so. The tension in your shoulders finally dissipated and you relaxed, snuggling more into Sunghoon as you let your tired eyes flutter closed. You didn’t know what the dolls’ game was, but you didn’t like it. Sunghoon was just being a good husband, is all. It even showed subconsciously in the way his hold on you tightened as you leaned into him. He loves you. He’d never do anything that came remotely close to hurting you, ever. You were more sure about that than you were sure about anything in the entire world.

Slowly, you began to drift off—your body getting heavier and heavier in his arms—and you let sleep overtake you.

A couple hours later, you were suddenly awoken by the sound of something falling onto the hardwood floor. You jumped, eyes flying open. You were met with the cold bed, Sunghoon nowhere to be found in your bedroom. Sitting up, you looked around the room to see what fell.

You sighed as your gaze landed on the doll, it was laying on its side on the ground, staring at you. “Enough,” you said lowly, another sigh pulling from deep within you. “I don’t know what you all want from me.”

The moonlight peeked into your bedroom through the curtains and gave a little light to see with in the dark. You slipped from the bed, deciding to see where Sunghoon was. Smoothing down your bedridden hair and wrinkly nightgown, you opened the door to your bedroom and was immediately met with another mini doll version of you waiting by the top of the stairs. You couldn’t keep doing this.

You passed the shelves on the wall filled with dolls of you and other trinkets as you made your way towards the stairs. You didn’t even give the doll a second look as you made your descent down them.

Sunghoon wasn’t in the kitchen either, but there was another doll there, pointing down the hall again. You tilted your head up at it and followed its directions. He wasn’t in the lounge room or the dining room either. You turned the corner in the hallway and your eyes landed on the closed dollhouse. It was backlit by the hallway sconce, the light making the dollhouse look illuminated.

You dipped into the living room and Sunghoon wasn’t there either. None of the bathrooms were occupied as well. You were convinced that he just wasn’t in the house at all. You stood in front of the dollhouse, annoyance coming off you like steam. Your arms were folded across your chest and you glared at it. It was closed this time, and you were deciding on whether it was not to play into the dolls’ game and open it or just go back to sleep and question Sunghoon in the morning. Alas, you were too curious for your own good.

You slowly opened the front of the dollhouse, expecting to see some confusing scene waiting for you inside. Instead, there was only one doll inside—the grotesque looking one covered in different scraps of fabric. It was in the same exact place that it was in earlier, except this time there was no doll of Sunghoon inspecting it. It was alone.

Taking a closer look, you tried to figure out where this mystery room supposedly was in your home. In the dollhouse, it was located between the living room and the hallway bathroom. You looked at the hallway you were currently standing in with its own mini dollhouse inside. Your brows knitted together in even more confusion. According to the dollhouse, the room should be right where you were standing.

That couldn’t be right, unless the room was in front of you and behind the wall where the dollhouse was displayed. Closing the front of the dollhouse, you moved closer to the wall, inspecting it. There was no outline of a suspected door, no uneven floorboards that could suggest the entrance was underneath you. There was only the hallway, the small bookshelf filled with your cookbooks and Sunghoon’s doll making books, and the dollhouse. You placed your ear against the wall; maybe if there was a room behind it you could hear something.

After a few moments, you almost gave up, deciding not to play the game anymore and just go to bed. But, right when you were about to lift your ear from the wall, you heard something—humming.

It was the same tune you hummed earlier, the same tune Sunghoon hums when working. The same tune Sunghoon hummed when the dolls showed you him working in the dollhouse. This time, you knew it was real. You stumbled backwards from the wall, your elbow knocking the doll over that was suddenly perched there. You gasped before quickly covering your mouth.

Frozen in fear, you swear you heard the humming abruptly stop. You then heard slight creaking, like someone was walking towards you. Scurrying back around the curve of the hallway, you peaked around it to see if anything else would happen.

What if Sunghoon wasn’t even in there. What if it was some stranger living in your walls, and you were just assuming that it was him—that the dolls thought it was him. Or, maybe they were trying to warn you of the stranger in a way that they knew you would listen. What if Sunghoon wasn’t in the house at all right now? Your hand pressed harder into the wall and you began to shake.

More creaking broke through the air, and you watched as the small bookshelf slowly began to push off the wall like a make-shift door. You ducked further behind the wall, just enough to ensure you weren’t seen. You saw a shadow dancing across the floor as the bookshelf slowly closed again.

You were so scared they could hear how fast your heart was beating. So sure that they could feel how hard you trembled through the floor. Hear your heavy breathing like a hawk listening for its prey.

The shadow got larger and you saw a figure start to be illuminated by the light on the wall. A hand reached from the shadows and towards the doll of you that had fallen over—Sunghoon’s hand. He stepped into the light and you could finally see him clearly; saw the way the warm light bounced off his skin, the way the light reflected off his glasses, and how his dark hair fell into his eyes. You pressed your fist to your mouth to keep quiet.

Why did Sunghoon have a secret room in the house? Why did he never tell you about it?

He fixed the doll; shifting its dress so it laid properly and flattened its messed up hair. You saw the corners of his mouth raise as he placed the doll back on the shelf above the dollhouse. It’s big eyes bored into you.

Without a sound, you made your way back to your bedroom as quickly as you could. You closed your bedroom door silently and slipped back into bed, willing your body to stop shaking and your breath to even out. You closed your eyes.

You tried to remember what the inside of the secret room looked like from the dollhouse. From what you could remember, it looked to be some sort of workshop, similar to the one Sunghoon would have at the shop. If it was just a simple place for him to carve dolls, why hide it? It was possible he kept it hidden so you wouldn’t worry about how much he was working. Sunghoon knew how much you disliked him getting obsessed with his work, always carving and shaping dolls until the tips of his fingers were scarred. You relaxed again.

You’d be upset and worried, yes, but he didn’t have to hide it from you. You would understand his dedication to his craft.

A couple moments later, you heard the door knob twist. As you heard Sunghoon’s footsteps near you, you hoped you looked like you were still asleep. His presence covered you like a blanket. Just before you could feel the heat of his fingertips on your skin, you turned to look at him.

With false sleepiness in your voice, you ask, “Why are you out of bed?”

Sunghoon smiled down at you, lightly shaking his head. His hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, my love. I was just getting a jumpstart on work so we could have more time together. Go back to sleep.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he was trying to lull you back to sleep with his voice alone.

You sat up more. “Well, I’m not tired anymore,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips. Sunghoon’s hand at your shoulder raised to smooth your hair before coming to your chin to lift it up. He leaned forward and delicately pressed a kiss to your lips. “No?” he asked in that same soft and gentle voice.

Sunghoon was already climbing on the bed and on top of you before finishing his question. He placed more delicate kisses around the edges of your mouth, his hands dipping lower. You shook your head. His hands slowly lifted your nightgown up your stomach. “You’re sure you aren’t tired anymore?” Sunghoon asked, the corner of his mouth raising ever so slightly. He was lifting the nightgown over your head so you were in nothing but your panties underneath him.

Light giggles left your mouth as you shook your head again, “Yes.”

Sunghoon’s fingers hooked underneath the hem of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your thighs. His eyes were completely focused on the way each tug revealed more and more of your cunt and how it glistened with the strips of moonlight coming through the window. You heard him exhale softly, like he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “Fuck…” he muttered lowly, “I don’t think I’ll ever get use to seeing this, and it’s all for me to admire.”

He fully pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere to the side of the bed. Sunghoon spread your legs open and pushed them up towards your chest so he got an even clearer view—just like he always did before taking you apart. He moved his hands so they splayed out on the back of your thighs right near your pussy he was still admiring. You squirmed a little, the air suddenly cold on your skin and from laying there completely open for him as you waited. “Entirely,” you said hushed, looking up at him. His glasses reflected the moonlight and covered the look in his eyes. “It will always be all for you—I’ll always be all, entirely yours.”

You gasped, body jolting when a thumb was pressed into your eager cunt. Sunghoon ran his thumb along your folds, collecting the gathering slick that was forming by the second. Bringing his other thumb to your cunt, he spread you apart even more, like he wanted to watch the arousal drip out of you himself. A soft whine left your lips. You were completely naked and under your husband’s watchful eye while Sunghoon was still completely dressed. He hasn’t even pulled his pajama pants down despite the way you saw him strain against the thin fabric.

“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked, his gaze finally flicking up to you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and you inhaled sharply when you finally saw that all too familiar dark look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way people dissected animals, excited to see its insides and how the body worked. Just beneath it you saw his intensely desperate, fiery hot need for you. The two expressions folded on top of each other over and over like an endless piece of paper, like he couldn’t decide what made him more excited. But, you knew which one would win tonight—which one always won.

You nodded slowly at his question. After all, no matter how bitter the idea of perfection tasted in your mouth, it was nothing compared to the sweetness of your husband’s love. It overshadowed everything, clouded your mind until you could think of nothing else. You lived for it, you’d do anything for it—to keep it. And Sunghoon, he loved you for it. So, the cycle continued until you forgot what the bitter aftertaste even belonged to.

Was it so wrong for you to love the suffocating attention he gave you once he wasn’t busy? Maybe. Maybe you should feel some shame for how obsessed you were with Sunghoon. But, at least you knew the feeling was mutual. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be surrounded by a house full of dolls that looked nearly identical to you made all by his hands. Right? Doll making was a labor of love, and Sunghoon never shied away from showing you how much he loved you.

Sunghoon leaned over you. You felt his arms brush against your thighs as he pushed his soft pajama pants down. His face hovered over yours and you stared at him with big, doe eyes. His lips brushed against yours, pulling away slightly when you tried to chase them. Sunghoon tossed his pants and boxers to the side and you felt his cock slap against your thigh, sending a wave of arousal throughout your entire body. The entire time, Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. “Like my own, personal little doll,” he continued, his voice low. “The real thing, not any of these flawed imitations. Complete perfection, and all under my hands to do with as I see fit.”

His lips captured yours in an unexpectedly rough, hungry kiss. He moved further over you until his body shadowed you. His hands were on either side of your head as he pinned you to the bed with his body, the kiss deepening and growing hungrier. Sunghoon pulled away from you, lips plumped and wet with saliva that still connected his lips to yours. He tenderly caressed your cheek and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”

With his other hand, Sunghoon grabbed his cock so he could line himself up with your entrance. He quirked a thick eyebrow as he waited for your answer, eyes trailing the way your chest rose and fell heavily and your breasts pushed more against his own chest. “How much,” he continued, slowly slipping the tip of his cock inside you, “I’d do for you? How I’d do anything?” Your mouth fell open as your back arched slightly at the action. Sunghoon’s gaze returned to you, his hips halting once his thick tip was completely inside you. “Do you?” Sunghoon asked you once again, his heavy gaze weighing down on you.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart. You used to be scared every time it happened, still not learning to expect it. You should be ashamed that you did let it happen. But, as time went on, you began to like being taken apart; began liking how each time you’d blink away the fog, you were more perfect in his eyes.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply. “I do,” you say quietly, meeting his swirling dark stare. “And I love you just as much. I’d do just as much.”

“No,” Sunghoon spoke plainly. You drew your brows together, confused. “The way I love you, it’s… cavernous. Deep and dark—pitch-black. There is no end, no beginning, it just is.” His hand trailed down to your chin. “It consumes me, my love for you. I can’t control it… I can’t control the things I’d do to ensure you’ll always love me. And you will… won’t you? Always love me?” Sunghoon asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“Yes,” you say meekly. Despite the way Sunghoon’s body blocked the little light in the room, you could still see the way he fought the darkness inside of him. “I’ll forever love you. There’s nothing that would ever change that, Sunghoon. I promise.”

Sunghoon’s body relaxed over you, and his eyes briefly fluttered shut as he shakily breathed in to further calm himself. “Good…” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear despite him being so close. “Because sometimes… The thought of you no longer loving me… i-it drives me completely insane.” His grip on your chin tightened and he bent down to sloppily kiss your lips. Sunghoon’s lips slowly worked against yours, like he was using you to calm himself even more. Like he was basking in your love for him like you did with his love for you.

He pulled away, just enough that with each word from his mouth, his lips brushed against yours. “It makes me want to rip you limb from limb. Polish all the parts so you can see it—see how much my love for you breaks me apart.” With a harsh thrust, Sunghoon pushed himself into you completely. You cried out, the sound being muffled by his lips so close to yours. Your nails dug into his shoulders at the action. Sunghoon pulled out of you until just the fat tip of his cock remained inside. With each word, he thrusted into you. “My sweet love, my perfect wife, my doll.”

Loud gasps rang from your mouth and Sunghoon took your hands from his shoulders and pinned them above your head with one of his own. His eyes never once left yours. He wanted to see how you cracked and shattered beneath him. He wanted to witness it. Sunghoon trailed his other hand down the side of your face, his thumb running over the soft skin of your cheek before it moved closer to your mouth. His eyes shined when he dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly swirled your tongue around it, his own mouth opening. Sunghoon’s pace slowed as if he was remembering himself. The languid strokes drove you crazy and your hips lifted off the bed to gain more friction.

It was a constant back and forth of back to back harsh thrusts that felt like it was splitting you open to slow, sweet thrusts that had you begging for more. With your arms pinned about you, you couldn’t even really move besides the slight lift of your hips, and they could only lift so high with how close Sunghoon pressed himself into you. He had complete control over you; over how you moved, how deeply and at what pace you felt him, and over what sounds you made with his thumb in your mouth. Your eyes began to get glassy with how much you wanted him.

You guessed that you liked being used—liked being his toy, his plaything. You guessed that you liked feeling desired, feeling like his doll. You glanced around your bedroom, back arching and loud, unashamed moans falling from your lips at the way Sunghoon fucked you. It felt as if every single doll was looking at you, watching you. Watched you succumb to your husband and watched as the cracks in your porcelain body began to crumble. Watched how you loved every second of it. How wet it made you to the point that Sunghoon was slipping in and out of you with ease and how the vulgar gushing sounds bounced off the walls.

Sunghoon’s pace slowed and he watched how his cock slowly disappeared into you before he slowly pulled it back out and examined how it dripped with your arousal. A soft chuckle left his parted lips as he did it over and over. You clawed at his arm still holding yours above your head, a loud whine came from the bottom of your throat and your body shifted in any way that it could to feel him deeper, to have his cock drag against your walls faster.

He replaced his wet thumb with his mouth, completely silencing your moans and whines. Sunghoon’s mouth worked slowly against yours once again, soft groans vibrating against your lips as he kissed you.

“You feel so good,” Sunghoon whined, barely able to get his words out before his lips were back on yours. He let out another moan, his shallow strokes growing quicker. “Taking everything I give you so well, my love. It’s like your body was made for mine.” Sunghoon finally let go of your arms, giving your body some space as his lips traveled down to your chest. He left wet kisses all over it, teasingly kissing around your perked nipples while you dragged your hands through his hair and pulled at the tips of the strands. Everytime his lips touched your skin it felt like white-hot coals were being placed on you where they touched. Sunghoon looked up at you over the rim of his glasses, lips pressed to your skin with a hint of a smile. “Do you feel good, darling?”

Sunghoon’s hips picked up speed, just barely, but enough to make your head spin wildly. His pace was agonizing and you were sure your frustration showed in how you tugged harder at his hair and pulled his head back and the way your hips pathetically raised to meet his. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and he let out a laugh. “Please,” you begged him, your eyes filled with unfallen tears, “please.”

He sat up, lips brushing against your skin one last time before he pulled away. Sunghoon pushed down on your hips with his hands to stop them from moving, his own still continuing at that agonizing pace. “Please, what?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he watched you squirm beneath him and claw at the bedsheets. “What are you begging me to do to you?”

You whined when his hands moved up to your waist and sent tingles throughout your body. Through your blurry, tear-filled eyes you could see his smile. Pitiful moans escaped your mouth and your chest rose and fell so heavily you would’ve thought you weren’t breathing at all—instead trying to gasp in gulps of breath. “Please,” you begged again. Sunghoon inhaled sharply at the way you clenched down on him, at how your whiny moans filled his ears and the way the corners of your eyes flooded with tears. He halted his movements and pulled out of you completely.

“No, no, no!” you cried and leaned up to reach for him. He pushed you back down to the bed gently. Sunghoon’s own breathing picked up as his wet cock hovered over you. He took one of your hands in his and guided it towards it. “I’ll continue once you can tell me—” his breath hitched once your hand wrapped around his thick length “—what you want.” Sunghoon guided your hand up and down his cock slowly, his hand tightening on top of yours so you squeezed him more. His breath shuddered as he watched your hand work, his stomach tightening every time your hand squeezed his mushroom tip. He moaned again at how easily your hand slipped over him from your arousal, and his moans grew louder when he’d move his hips to force your hand back down his length again and again.

“Tell me…” he breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed, once you still didn’t give him an answer. Sunghoon’s hands laid flat against the back of your thighs—right next to where you needed him the most.

“I… I-I want you…” you stuttered out, voice small. Sunghoon hummed in question, bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed circles into it at the same speed he moved his hips. You gasped, back involuntarily arching off the bed. Your hand paused mid-stroke of his cock before his hips rutting against it stirred you back into action. “Closer…” Sunghoon says through a grunt, “but, I’m going to need more than that from you, my love. Don’t you want to be good for me and do what I asked?”

A soft whine left his lips when you squeezed a little too much at the base of his cock. “I want to hear those pretty moans of yours as I fuck you with my cock… see your pretty face as you cum around it. Won’t you give that to me? Do you really want to settle for my fingers tonight, darling?” Sunghoon continued.

How could you tell him what you really wanted? Explain the deepest desire that you had right now? He told you about his inner battle with how much his love for you consumes him. He told you the things that it made him want to do. You wanted him to let go and do it. You wanted him to wipe you clean so you watched it all—saw it all. Enough with holding back—like he tried to do every single night without fail. It was no use when you both knew what was coming. You wanted him to lose control. You wanted that swirling darkness in his eyes to take over. You wanted him to do what he said he wanted to do if you didn’t feel the same way he felt about you. How do you express that to him?

“Do it…” you say, your words coming out strained. A sweet moan left your mouth and you looked him dead in the eyes as the tears finally slid down your hot cheeks. “I w-want you… to do it.” Your voice was just above a whisper, loud enough that only his ears could hear your words despite being the only two people in the entire house. You squeezed down onto his thick cock more as your wrist worked harder. The hand he wasn’t using to rub circles into your puffy clit grabbed your thigh tighter, his fingers surely leaving indents into the plush skin. Sunghoon’s head hung lowly as he tore his gaze away from yours and went back to watching your hand.

Sunghoon plunged two fingers deep inside your dripping entrance and you felt like you could finally feel the oxygen reach your lungs. He pushed them in and out of you, his gaze flicking over to his movements instead of yours to relish in the way his fingers came back out more and more wet. As his fingers curled inside you, causing breathy moans to leave your willing lips, you watched the way his stomach tensed and his hips faltered. Without saying a word, you could tell what was running through his mind right now. You could see his eyes grow more and more darker, fill up more and more with desire. Sunghoon finally looked back up at you, his wire-framed glasses low on his nose bridge. “Do what?” he asks, his voice just as quiet as yours was.

You didn’t have to say anything else. Sunghoon’s hips froze and his stomach tightened even more as a pretty moan ripped straight through him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingering waned and you lifted your hips to chase his hand. Sunghoon’s warm cum shot all over your stomach and splattered up to your breasts in thick spurts. He let out another moan, this one dragging out from deep within him as his body finally relaxed. You helped him through it all—hand never stopping as he rode out his high and marked more of your stomach with his cum until you were painted a creamy white and he was completely empty.

His eyes blinked open and he looked down at how messy you were. Something in his demeanor shifted as his eyes grazed over you and you couldn’t tell what had changed until he looked at you. You inhaled sharply at his stare, your breathing picking up. His own chest still heaved from his recent release. Sunghoon took his wet fingers out from your cunt, taking a moment to drag them through your folds to spread your arousal even more, all while his eyes never left yours. Gone were the barriers that held him back, that darkness took him over full force.

Meek whimpers escaped your lips and you dug your nails into the bedsheet beneath you. “You like being my doll, don’t you?” Sunghoon asks. His voice was almost flat, and he was still speaking in that hushed tone. His expression was decidedly blank except for the subtle way his brows drew together. “Don’t you?” he asked a little louder when you didn’t answer him. His hands squeezed the back of your thighs and his fingers dug into the soft skin there. You timidly nodded, not daring to look away.

His hands relaxed and his thumbs brushed over where his fingers dug into you comfortingly, his eyes finally leaving yours. Sunghoon grabbed his cock and rubbed his flushed tip in between your folds, the wet sounds it made piercing the silent bedroom. “You know,” he starts, his voice no longer so low, “you really are truly flawless, doll. My muse…”

Sunghoon is already slipping back inside you before you can process the way his thick cock completely stretches you open. You cry out as more unshed tears fall from your eyes. He continues, “It angers me how much I can’t capture you fully. How none of these dolls can compare to the real thing—the real you. It makes me… so angry…”

He’s pulling back his hips as he speaks, the tip of his cock just barely leaving your pussy, before he roughly thrusts his cock back inside of you. Another loud moan emits from you and your vision blurs from more tears as your face gets hot. You could barely hear Sunghoon’s wry laugh over the sudden ringing in your ears.

Sunghoon’s pace is brutal, and you’re suddenly regretting whining so much about how slow he was once going. It gave you whiplash, how fast he fucked into you, and the only thing you could do to keep yourself grounded is tightly wrap your hands around his wrists at your hips. Your arms smeared and got sticky with his cum but you didn’t care. With each thrust, your body shook and pushed you further into the mattress. With your iron-clad grip on Sunghoon’s wrists, your tits pushed together and bounced in accordance with his hips against yours. Sunghoon was fucking you like he wanted to break you in half.

“S-Slo—” you tried to speak but was cut off by the waves of sudden pleasure hitting you one after the other. Sunghoon just shushed you, his hands pulling your hips towards his so you’d feel him deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you couldn’t think about anything other than the way he was making you feel so, so good. You wanted to feel this way forever. Wanted him to stay lost so you never escaped this feeling of immense pleasure. Wanted him to use you to take out his anger at himself—at you—like you meant absolutely nothing, just a doll for him to handle and put back in its place.

You adore it, the way he makes you feel.

Such nasty sounds fill the air, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care about it. If anything, it turned you on more just how loud and demanding to be heard it was. With how much the sounds of the sex the two of you were having penetrated your ears, you would’ve thought that you’d be getting multiple noise complaints at any moment. You both definitely weren’t trying to be quiet in the slightest.

Between your moans, you heard Sunghoon speak. “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” His voice was almost scarily plain, like he thought this over time and time again before. You blinked away tears and finally got a clear view of him and the way he stared down at you with a hint of a smile, head tilted as he watched you crack and begin to fall into yourself. “Forever my perfect little doll, to bend—” he pushed your knees closer to your chest so you were practically folded in half “—and to break—” he roughly thrusted into you once more, his hint of a smile growing into a smirk as you clenched down on him “—and to put back together and play with as I please.”

“Sunghoon,” you sobbed as your stomach tightened and you started to shake. You didn’t get the chance to get another word out before you were violently orgasming, your cum pouring out of you and leaving a white ring around the base of Sunghoon’s cock as he roughly fucked it back into you. Wet, gushing sounds came from his cock plowing into your pussy and your cum poured out from around him and down the curve of your ass. You could scream at the sudden overstimulation.

“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says as he watched you shatter. He used your hands still limply wrapped around his wrists to pull you up off the bed and halfway into his lap, his cock still buried within you. One of his hands supported your back and the other came to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Pretty dolls don’t cry.”

Sunghoon brought your hands to his shoulders and you held tightly onto the soft fabric of his shirt. His own hands dragged down the expanse of your stomach and he wrapped one of his arms around your back. Sunghoon lowered his head so he could look you in your eyes, his free hand lifting your chin to raise your head more. “I love you,” he murmured, pausing a beat to make sure you heard him, before roughly moving his lips against yours and cutting off one of your watery whines.

Your hands moved from Sunghoon’s shoulders to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you. You deepened the kiss, letting Sunghoon open your mouth so his tongue could slip in and dance with yours. You’d give anything to keep his lips on yours forever.

Sunghoon began to thrust into you again, his hips moving slow at first before they rapidly picked up pace. You moaned against his lips, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt Sunghoon’s lips pull into a smile, “I love you so much.” He said it like it was a confession.

Head falling into the crook of his neck, you cling to him tighter with your last remaining strength and whimper into his warm skin. Your body shook all over until it felt like you might explode. It felt like Sunghoon kept repeatedly turning and turning the winding key in your back, going way beyond the motor’s limitations. It made you nervous for when he would let go and you would burst into action.

His deep moans and grunts rang in your ear and his arm around your back tightened. With his other hand, he pulled you back so he could look at you. Your face was tear-streaked, splotchy with drying tears and you tried to not cry even more. Your brows were knitted together from the overstimulation and whimpers fell from your lips. Sunghoon’s cum stuck to your stomach and your forearms and parts of his shirt, your own cum covered your pussy and Sunghoon’s cock. You were a mess.

Over and over, three words came from Sunghoon’s lips like a mantra as he filled you up with his cum to the brim and past that too. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

Finally, silence rang through the air besides both of your heavy breathing. After another moment, your body finally stilled. The silence was so thick that you felt like you couldn’t move at all. Delicately, like he held the shards of you in his hands, Sunghoon laid you back down onto the bed. He pressed feather-light kisses to your jaw and cheeks before they finally landed on your lips.

You were so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that you couldn’t feel anything at all. Your head was still foggy and your only penetrating thoughts swirled around him. Despite your eyes being wide open, your vision was cloudy.

Sunghoon kissed you again. “Stay here,” he says, pushing away from you. Your arms fell to your sides limply. He leaned back and pulled his cock out of you, eyes shining with adoration at the way yours and his mixed cum spilled out and dirtied the bedsheets. Sunghoon rubbed the tip of his cock through it a couple times, ignoring how you squirmed and whined. “Absolute perfection,” he said under his breath before standing to his feet.

You laid there on the bed, still spread open and a mess of cum, as your eyes went in and out of focus. When the clouds in your vision did part, all you saw were all of the dolls and how they stared at you. Sunghoon came back a couple moments later, his face coming into focus as the moonlight bounced off his glasses. He climbed over you and began cleaning you up.

You were barely aware of the way he meticulously made sure every nook and cranny was polished nor how he moved you to put new bedsheets on the bed. Your mind didn’t start to come back to you until he was pulling you over him and sitting you onto his cock. You came alive at his hands trailing the expanse of your body before landing on your hips. You moaned quietly, your gaze dripping to look down at him. The darkness in his eyes was not quite all the way gone.

Sunghoon brought you down to lay on his chest. “I could fuck you all night…” he trails and his voice vibrates throughout your whole body as he shallowly thrusts up into you, “and into the morning, too.” His hips stilled and instead his fingers caressed your back. “But then we wouldn’t have the full day together, would we, my love?”

You shook your head slightly and Sunghoon wrapped an arm possessively over you before pulling the blankets overtop of you both, his other arm caging you against him completely. As the moonlight filtered through the window of your bedroom, the two of you slowly fell asleep.

In the morning, you were awoken by kisses on your neck and your pussy fluttering around Sunghoon’s slow strokes. He lifted your leg into the air and you turned your body towards the warmth at your back, blinking away sleep. You hummed, a soft whine pulling from your throat as you looked at him.

His glasses were off, which let you know that it hadn’t been long since he woke up himself. Sunghoon leaned down to press his lips to yours, his cock still dragging at a snail’s pace against your walls. “Are you sore?” he asks, pulling away from your lips to kiss your shoulder.

You nodded. Him still inside you, lazily fucking into you felt good, but you couldn’t ignore the way he stretched you open and the deep soreness that came from it. “A little,” you say.

Sunghoon turned you onto your back so you laid beneath him and he pulled out of you completely. “I’m sorry, my love,” he says and his lips meet yours again. “Let me make you feel better.”

He kissed your lips once more and started trailing kisses down to your jaw and along the length of your neck. Sunghoon looked up at you through the strands of his black hair, kissing lower down your body to your breasts, his hands massaging them as he kissed at your perked nipples. Soft moans left you at his touch.

His kisses spread to your stomach, to your hips, and finally right above where you were already wet for him. He spread your legs open more. “I’ll be gentle,” Sunghoon says, placing a kiss to your clit before his tongue poked out to lap at your entrance.

Without Sunghoon around, the idea of perfection was bitter on your tongue—acidic in your chest. But, when your beloved husband was around, finally in your arms again, you understood why people strive for it. You love it.

If perfection was how Sunghoon saw you, then you’d forever be the most absolutely perfect person, woman, wife you could be.

Days pass and you are once again left alone in the vastness of your home. Sunghoon stood true to his word as best as he could, spending as much time with you when he didn’t have to work, but it still wasn’t enough. The house still felt empty, and the occasional early nights when he would come home didn’t help.

It felt like the early nights home he took came at a price. Most nights when he would finally walk through the front door, you were already asleep or close to it. He would wake you up with a kiss and a content sigh. It made your chest ache even more than it already did when he is away.

You were in the middle of washing the dishes, mind trailed off to someplace else as you idly let the sounds of the TV float around you. “The search for the six missing girls is still going strong. Police still has not found the perpetrator, but an interview earlier with the Chief says that they are very close to finding out who has taken these girls. Our anonymous tip hotline is still up and running for anyone who may have any valuable information on where these girls might be.”

The words brought you back to life, and you gasped quietly as you looked towards the tiny screen. You examined the bold numbers at the bottom of the screen. It reminded you of the secret room behind the dollhouse that you completely forgot about. You quickly finished the dishes, leaving them in the strainer to dry completely as you dried your wet hands.

Slowly, you took quiet steps towards the hallway where the dollhouse was displayed. You looked to the front door to ensure that it was still locked. Sunghoon could walk through it at any moment and you didn’t want him to know that you knew about his secret workshop before you had the chance to see what was inside.

You recalled the way the door to the room opened—the pushed opened small bookshelf that revealed the make-shift door. You tip-toed to the bookshelf, examining its sides and the books on it.

You didn’t really look at the books on the bookshelf besides your own cookbooks. Sunghoon’s doll making books were something you rarely touched, if at all. But, you took a hard look at those too, your fingers running over the spines. They all felt like books, the spines hard and sturdy, but something about them still felt off to you. You looked at Sunghoon’s books again, pulling each one out a little to take a peek at the covers.

In the middle of you pulling one of the books, you heard a quiet click and the bookshelf came loose from the wall. You took a step back, shock showing all over your face. Gently, you grabbed the side of the bookshelf and pulled.

The bookshelf creaked open and revealed an opening that you had to bend down a little to enter. When you stepped inside the surprisingly large room, your eyes did a sweep of what was inside. You froze, your stomach dropping as you stared at what was in front of you, absolutely horrified. You didn’t even really know what was in front of you… It looked like an amalgamation of various body parts, stitched and sewn into one. Its skin was weirdly shiny, almost like it was made of some kind of plastic or resin while still keeping its elasticity.

You disregarded the rest of the room, instead taking careful steps towards the strange creation in front of you. It didn’t look neither dead nor alive and that confused you even further—it barely looked human. Its eyes and lips were sewn shut and it was completely hairless. It was held up onto its feet by long strips of silk hanging from the ceiling that was tied around its naked body. Next to where it stood was a table with thick locks of hair tied with ribbons of your favorite color.

Maybe this was the final crack in your mind and it was crumbling completely, but it kind of looked like you too. Even the hair on the table matched yours perfectly. If you looked past all the stitches, the weird shiny skin, and the lack of hair, it almost seemed like you were looking in a mirror. It looked like an unfinished, life-sized doll of you. Your stomach turned in on itself.

The fear in you raised tenfold in you when it started to twitch. You took a couple steps back from it when it began to pull on its restraints a little. It seemed to start to panic and its shiny arms pulled at the restraints keeping it up even more as it tried to reach out to you. You jumped back more, fearful tears filling your eyes. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words would come out.

The uncanny creation tried to speak, though, before realizing that its mouth was sewn shut. When it began to frightfully hum—the sound off tune and terrifying—did your body start to feel heavy and limp. It pulled at its restraints with all the little strength it had as it reached out to you and began to hum wildly… it hummed Sunghoon’s melody, the one he hummed when he worked.

Realization hit you like a tsunami. Not only was you dear husband making dolls of you, but he was trying to make a real, life-sized human doll of you. And it seemed that every part of this surreal creation was taken from another until it resembled you as close as he could get it. Your mind flashed to those six missing girls—the six missing girls that all looked eerily similar to you. Despite having all the puzzle pieces right in front of you, your mind refused to see the whole picture.

You backed up further, the back of your thighs hitting the desk that was against the back wall near the make-shift door. You twisted towards it, chest heaving as you scanned the scattered papers and opened books. You picked up what looked to be a journal Sunghoon kept and read over the open page with trembling hands.

The entry remarked at how the experiment was working well and how none of the body parts were rejecting like they did before. He praises how the process was much smoother than last time, how the girls he chose were the perfect fit. The journal dropped from your hands.

Those girls going missing due to Sunghoon was no longer speculation. Your eyes snapped back to his “experiment.” It must be those poor girls, their bodies sewn into one to look like you. You still didn’t want to believe it.

Tears poured from your eyes as fear sunk its claws deep within you and forced its way down your throat and into your heart. Your entire world came crashing down around you and quiet sobs left your mouth as you fought against the idea that your husband wasn’t who he said he was—that he was a kidnapper, a killer.

You rushed forwards, your arms raised towards his creation before you wrapped them around yourself and remained a safe distance. “No!” you exclaimed as you rapidly shook your head. “No, this is all a misunderstanding—a mistake! Sunghoon wouldn’t do this… He isn’t that type of person!” You wiped at your eyes, almost believing your own words until you dropped your hands.

Dolls completely surrounded the peculiar creation—Sunghoon’s experiment. It was even more that the ones that surrounded you in the hallway when they were showing you the scene in the dollhouse. They all looked at you for a moment before slowly turning to look up at how the amalgamation of stolen girls thrashed towards you, still frantically humming.

The dollhouse.

It was a warning. Those scenes the dolls showed you… it was all a warning. This was what they were trying to tell you this entire time. This wasn’t just any ordinary experiment for Sunghoon, a dollmaker going completely mad in his craft—no. This experiment was for you. He was using these girls, tearing apart their bodies limb from limb and creating some freakish doll of them that was meant to be you. It was practice… He was doing all of this so he knew exactly what to do when he laid his tools down and cut into the real thing. You were next.

Sunghoon’s words rang in your ears and bounced around in your head: “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” You finally understood it now.

Suddenly, all thrashing ceased and the humming finally abruptly stopped. The only thing that filled the silence was your muffled sobs. “I’m sorry,” you cried, unsure if it even heard you. “I’m so sorry.”

You stumbled towards the opening of the room and barely missed hitting your head on the way out. You didn’t even wait for the bookshelf to click back into place before rushing through the hallway and to the kitchen. For once in your entire life, you hoped that Sunghoon had a long night at work.

Nearly falling into the kitchen counter, you shakily grabbed the landline on the wall. Those bold numbers of the anonymous tip hotline flashed behind your eyes and you rushed to put in the numbers, putting the ringing phone to your ear. “This is the anonymous tip hotline for the six missing girls. Please only share useful tips that could help a breakthrough in the case. Do you have any information to share?”

Your breathing came out heavy and you tried to force the oxygen to reach your lungs, inhaling sharply as you tried to find your words. “I… I-I think my husband kidnapped those girls…” you breathed in a whisper. The woman on the other end of the line started talking, but your focus was abruptly taken when you heard another, more familiar voice behind you.

“Something scare you, darling?” Sunghoon asks, his voice gentle and filled with worry. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine.

You jumped, pressing further into the kitchen counter as you spun in place, the phone leaving your ear. Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his thick brows knitted together. You didn’t even hear him come back home. Despite the landline being away from your ear, you still heard the woman on the other end asking you questions, frantically asking if you were still there. You were completely frozen.

Sunghoon rose to his feet and the stove light illuminated him. You saw him differently now. No longer was he your loving husband, he was something else. Still, you hated the way your heart soared when you locked eyes on him. How your body relaxed, even in the slightest. You hated how you felt complete now that he was here and how you wanted to run into his arms.

He crossed the short distance to you, his arms coming to rest against the counter on both sides of you. You inhaled shakily now that you and Sunghoon were face to face. Without his eyes leaving yours, Sunghoon took the phone from your quivering hand and hung it back up on the wall. His arm returned to its position next to you, completely caging you within his arms.

Sunghoon leaned his forehead against yours. “I thought I told you that you had nothing to be afraid of, not when I’m here.” His voice was still gentle—soft—and it was lowered as he moved one of his arms to take one of your shaky hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him and wrap your arms around him simultaneously. You felt exhausted.

You voice shook, “Y-You kidnapped those girls, didn’t you? Turned them into… into…” Sunghoon drew back to look at you, his head falling to the side as his brows pushed together. His confused look made you start to question if you had been imagining everything—the dolls, the dollhouse, the hidden room, the experiment. “Into… what?” Sunghoon asks.

“...Into me!” you exclaimed, more tears running down your already wet cheeks as you choked out a sob. Sunghoon’s hand tightened around yours. “You killed them… and who knows how many others! Am I next? Are you going to kill me too?”

Sunghoon let go of your hand so he could cup your face with both of his hands, his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes to get rid of the fallen tears. “They aren’t dead!” he says. “And I swear to you that I’ll never hurt you, my love. You know that. Think of them as… reborn.”

You started to tremble in his arms and tried to shift away from him, but Sunghoon wouldn’t let you go anywhere. “Is that what you’re going to do to me? Was all of this—” you gestured around the room at all the dolls of you sitting pretty on the various shelves around the kitchen “—just practice for the real thing?” you spat out. You tried to move again, but Sunghoon’s hands dropped from your face to your upper arms to keep you in place.

“No!” Sunghoon started, his voice coated in disbelief that you would even ask him that as he shook his head. “No… can’t you see? This—” he used a finger to motion around the kitchen at the dolls “—is a reflection of how much I love you. My devotion to you. You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.”

“A-And that experiment of yours—the missing girls? Behind the wall?” you asked.

“That… is my dedication to you—m-my oath.” Sunghoon was completely desperate. He pleaded with you, his eyes wide and begging you to believe his words. His eyes were watery, like if you didn’t believe him he might cry as well, and he looked at you over the rim of his wire-framed glasses that slipped down his nose bridge.

You didn’t know what to believe. Didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to go upstairs with Sunghoon and lay in your bed and forget about everything that you’ve witnessed as he held you close to his chest. It was all too much, and your resolve was starting to crack and shatter. You wanted to smooth down your wrinkled dress and fix your messy hair, but Sunghoon didn’t let you move a single inch in fear that you would run from him. You couldn’t tell which one of you was more terrified.

His hands slid down from your upper arms and down to your hands, grasping them so tight that it started to hurt. “Come… Come with me…” he trailed, gulping thickly. You stared at him with wide, frightful eyes, suddenly unwilling to move, but Sunghoon desperately pleaded with you. He looked like he was seconds from getting down onto his knees. “Please,” he begged, pulling you into him, as his voice cracked. “You know I’d never do anything ever to hurt you.”

Sunghoon took a step back, hoping that you would follow after him, and you did. You let him guide you down the hallway all the way to the bookshelf and into the room behind it, his grip on your hands never once loosening. He led you in front of the uncanny image of you that he created. “I know how it looks,” Sunghoon says, his voice hushed. “But there’s no pain, no sorrow, nothing.”

It didn’t try to reach out to you like it did earlier and all the dolls that once surrounded it were gone. It didn’t hum that out-of-tune, terrifying version of the melody Sunghoon hummed when he worked either. It just hung limply from its silk restraints. “It just is,” Sunghoon continued. “And when it’s fully done, and completely polished, it’ll be flawless.” He delicately took your chin and guided your head to the side so you looked at him. Your body finally stopped fighting against itself and you relaxed in his grasp. “Like you are.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, hesitantly pausing to look at you again before bringing his lips to meet yours. He pulled you into him, his body wrapping around yours, and you timidly invited him in.

His lips felt so good against yours, and you knew that once you parted for air you’ll miss the feeling of them forever until he kissed you again. It felt right—it felt like home. The home where the two of you were always together and he held you like he was holding you now—like he was afraid that if he let go he would lose you. That if he didn’t hold you like a delicate porcelain cup you would chip and crack and shatter. And you would.

When Sunghoon’s lips moved against yours like they did in this moment, everything fell into place. All your worries slid off your back and for a brief minute, it was just the two of you in the whole wide world. Nothing existed but him, and his body enveloped in yours, and his touch that made you burn. And the flames danced so beautifully for him, didn’t they?

Just when you were about to pull away to quell the heaviness in your lungs, you felt a sudden sharp pain in your neck. You hissed, breaking away from Sunghoon’s lips just barely. Sunghoon chased your lips, holding the back of your head and pulling you closer against his body as he kissed you harder.

You whimpered against his lips, your nails digging into his arms as you tried to free yourself from his vice-like grip. It was no use, Sunghoon was never going to let you go. You felt your body grow heavy in his arms and he had to hold you up. Your vision began to spot black and fray around the edges, and your ears rang terribly. Just before you passed out completely, and over the ringing of your ears, you heard Sunghoon’s muffled voice as he kissed your neck where the pain stemmed.

“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, I truly do.”

You fade in and out of consciousness as time passes around you. Sometimes you see blurred glimpses of Sunghoon, sometimes it's just an array of colors until you black out again.

You aren’t sure how long it’s been when your eyes finally do open and you remain conscious for good. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you examine how you're laying on the couch in your living room. Your entire body aches and it feels stiff. Your head is pounding and you almost close your eyes again to ease the pain you feel. You notice how you’re in different clothes and there’s a blanket over top of you. Too late do you notice the figure in your peripheral, and your eyes shift to look at them.

Sunghoon hovers over you, his expression a chaotic mix of hopeful, relief, and worry as he stares down at you. He’s wearing different clothes too, and his hair is a complete mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his glasses almost slide completely off his face. “Are you here, my love?” Sunghoon asks quietly. His voice sounds slightly hoarse.

You give him a confused look, pushing the blanket off of you and crying out from the pain you feel as you try and sit up. Sunghoon rushes to your aid, tossing the blanket to the side without a single thought, and helps ease you to your feet. Your gaze drops to your legs as he helps you stand and you notice how weird they look—shiny. There’s slight indented lines at your knees, too. You look at your arms and they’re the same.

You look doll-like.

Once you’re steadily on your feet, Sunghoon moves a step back to take you all in. You notice how done up you are and when you carefully raise a stiff and sore arm to your hair you feel how it’s styled. Your gaze lands on Sunghoon’s face, his eyes meeting yours.

His eyes are shining—completely full of love and pride. You’ve only seen him look like this when he first came to you with one of the dolls he made that looked the most like you, and when the two of you are in bed and his fingers are gently caressing your skin as he admires you. But, it was even more intense than in those scenarios. Confusion clouds you and you wait for Sunghoon to say something, and he does. One singular word.

“Perfect.”

[ kipo’s note . . . ] would it be wrong to say how i absolutely #needthat #desperately… like hehe yes i’ll be your perfect doll for you forever and ever and ever (๑´ω`๑)

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @fancypeacepersona @deobitifull @tinycatharsis @strawberryshoujosundae

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