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mountainsandmayhem · 2 days ago

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BDSMaid - Chapter 9

Series Summary: In order to save money for law school, you accept a job working as a maid for high end clients. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in more than just your curiosity peaks. Word Count: 5k CW: see small red lettering below the cut AN: I'm going to miss them!! I'm absolutely heartbroken that I'm done, but so fucking proud of myself for what I've created. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being my beta from pretty much the very beginning. I am so grateful to you and so honoured (yes, with a u because I'm Canadian lol) to call you my friend. Also little shoutouts to @for-a-longlongtime, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for listening to me go on about them for 80% of 2024. As always, graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: unprotected p in v, one spank, multiple orgasms and Overstim hinted at, pining, heartbreak

Eight Months Later

Joel

“I got yelled at by a feisty brunette last night at that gala,” Tommy says as the two of them sip whiskey at the bar of the club.

“Probably deserved it.” Joel deadpans and closes the folder of invoices he’s looking over.

He should be doing this in his fancy, and newly renovated, office across the street. He was in the large office for all of three minutes the day after you left when he could only see the ghost of you. From the chair you sat in when you first asked him to teach you how to be a sub, to the door he pinned you against and confessed how out of his mind he was over you, everything was you, and it had to go if he had any chance of following what you needed from him. Joel hasn’t even been in his room at the club out of the fear of what it would do to him. Would I still be able to smell the lavender of her shampoo in there? Still be able to hear her beautiful cries of pleasure and pain bouncing off the walls?

“She thought I was you,” Tommy says, glancing over at his brother and interrupting Joel’s impending spiral.

Joel sighs, slipping his reading glasses from his face before taking a long pull of the amber liquor from his crystal glass. Tommy looks straight ahead as he continues.

“She’s doing great, by the way. Or at least that’s what her friend said when she was scolding me.”

Joel winces at his words, “Of course she is, Tommy.” Even though it's been almost a year since you left, just the mention of you rips his barely-mended heart back in half. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, he still feels like he did in his kitchen.

The very fibers of his being ache just as hard for you now as they did then. He longs to see you and touch you, to feel your warm, soft skin under his hands again. Anyone before you was always, ‘Yes, Mister Miller,’ even when they weren’t in a scene; but not you. You weren’t afraid to be curious and unapologetically yourself. He hasn’t laughed as hard with anyone, including Tiffany, as he did with you. But the part that he misses the most is the way you look at him the first time you see him. Your eyes soften, velvety pink lips parting slightly before they curl into a smile that makes his heart hammer behind his ribs. Then, he watches your shoulders relax and it makes him feel like he hung the moon and stars for you, and if he could have, he would have.

He clears his throat and then rasps, “She’s too smart to not be doing well.”

Tommy stands, bringing his hands to rub at Joel's shoulders. He squeezes his tense deltoid muscles and with a hint of mischief in his voice he says, “Lots of pretty girls here tonight if you feel like moving on.”

Joel shakes his head and pulls away from Tommy’s grasp with a grunt. “Never gonna happen. Get outta here before you get yelled at two nights in a row.”

“Just too bad for me that you aren’t a hot brunette,” Tommy says with a laugh.

“I have brown hair,” Joel replies defensively, running his fingers through the grown out curls.

“Not to kick you when you’re down, but it’s mostly grey at this point.”

Joel holds up a single finger at Tommy over his shoulder as he laughs and walks away.

Two and a half years later

You

You’ve been up to your eyeballs in studying as you prepare for your finals. These last few years in California have been the hardest yet most fulfilling time of your life. Two nights in a row now, you’ve fallen asleep in the library, only waking when your Spotify would switch from the white noise playlist you use to help you focus, to your “getting ready” playlist. After dragging yourself to your dorm room in the dead of the night, you’d get a few restless hours of sleep before heading right back to your favourite studying spot. You can’t believe that in just a few short weeks you’ll be graduating and stepping into the life you’ve always envisioned for yourself.

The unmistakable FaceTime jingle fills your AirPods. Jamie’s name is splayed across the screen of your phone, along with a photo of the two of you at Albany Beach when she visited this past Christmas break. You put your highlighter down and slide the answer toggle over.

“Hey!” She says, her warm smile shining up at you. You squint, trying to place where she is. You don’t often let yourself think of Joel, but the cracks across your screen make FaceTiming difficult, and the selfish side of you always wishes you had grabbed that new phone before you left. Your head cocks to the side; broken screen or not, you don’t recognize the background.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m good, thanks. How are you?” She jests with a mocking eye roll. “I’m at a cabin.”

“What cabin?” You say, glaring at her jokingly. A deep laugh comes from the otherside of the phone and your eyes widen. “Who’s that?”

The man's voice comes from offscreen, “I can’t believe you thought she wouldn’t ask where you were. She’s going to be a lawyer, for god's sake.”

“Jamie, who is that? What is going on here? Blink twice if you need rescuing!” You joke.

Jamie blushes, looking over the phone at whoever that voice is coming from. “I just wanted to call to see how the studying is going, and to let you know that I got the graduation tickets.”

A glass of white wine appears in front of Jamie and she smiles before puckering her lips in a kissing motion towards the man in the room with her. “Ok, seriously, who the fuck is that and where are you?”

“I was also calling to let you know that Laren can’t make it anymore and Odette is in New York,” she takes a small sip of her wine.

“Oh, well that’s ok,” you say, trying to squash the disappointment and hoping it doesn’t show in your voice or face. You wished that at least two of your three best friends would be there for you. “It can just be me and you, baby!”

“Well…I’m wondering if I could maybe bring my boyfriend? Might be a good opportunity for you two to meet.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You say, officially abandoning all study materials until you get some answers. Jamie raises a perfectly manicured finger and calls the mystery man over.

You swallow hard as Tommy Miller appears beside her.

Jamie glances up at him, her bright green eyes full of admiration, his mirroring hers. The starry look in their eyes tells you everything you need to know; they’re so far gone for that even a search and rescue team wouldn’t be able to save them. She looks back at you. “Meet again, I guess.”

You try to push for answers, but either of them give in, claiming you need to focus on finals. Before you hang up, Jamie promises to tell you the entire story when you see each other next. You’re happy for your friend, especially seeing the way Tommy looked back at her. Even through your cracked screen you could see the love, but as you try to go back to studying you have a hollow feeling in your stomach.

Graduation Day

You

The late afternoon sun fills your dorm room, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around you. After walking the stage tonight, you are going out to dinner with Jamie and Tommy, and then he has paid for a hotel suite so the two of you can have a girls’ night. You can’t wait to hear how Tommy went from, in Jamie’s previous words, “my dad’s new asshole friend” to her boyfriend.

You step in front of your floor length mirror, zipping up the black graduation gown over your knee length, form fitting, deep emerald velvet dress. The California sun has been good to you, your tanned legs and sunkissed nose and cheeks are glowing. You place your blue and yellow Berkeley Law stole over your head and then grab your cap, ensuring the ‘Class of ‘28’ tassel is secure. You fluff your curls one last time as a light knock comes from your door.

“Ready to graduate, gorgeous?” Ronan smiles at you, eyes trailing down your gown. He’s the type of handsome that’s almost painful to look at, but more importantly - you wouldn’t have made it through these last three years without him. You met the first day - the lock on your door wasn’t working, and he waltzed in on you half naked when he mistook your room as his.

You smile at him in your doorway now; remembering the way you screamed at him that first time, trying to cover your chest, and him scrambling to close the door. His eyes were clamped shut, and he slammed his finger so hard that you had to take him for stitches. Now, several years later, he fills out his graduation gown perfectly with those wide rugby shoulders, a sight you couldn’t even have imagined back then. Whichever angel made him didn’t make a single mistake - he’s tall and insanely broad, with dark sandy blonde hair, and clover green eyes that in the right light are a golden hazel. He’s easily one of the smartest men you’ve ever met and an incredible athlete. The cherry on top, because of course there’s more: he’s an international student and has a panty-melting Irish accent.

“Beyond ready. Let's become lawyers, babe.”

He steps aside, one arm out in a ‘ladies first’ gesture. Handsome, charming, and thoughtful - a dangerous trifecta. You slide your hand in the crook of his muscle-lined arm and walk across campus together.

Ronan jerks his head towards the coffee cart. “Remember when you spilled your entire coffee on your new puffer jacket?”

You glare up at him, you saved for weeks to buy that jacket. “No, but I remember you throwing up in that trash can after the Halloween party last year.”

“Well, if Beach Party Barbie had helped Lifeguard Ken with all those shots we wouldn’t have had that problem, would we?” You laugh as Ronan puffs out his chest, but you both know he was more than willing to take your half of the ‘Best Couples Costume' shots.

Finally, you reach the courtyard where the law students will be walking across a stage that acts as the symbolic bridge to the rest of their lives. I’m a lawyer, you think to yourself and try to force a smile. The magnitude of the day only really starts to sink into your bones as you see the friends and families of your classmates start to take their seats. The excited feeling you had earlier starts to morph. You’re proud of yourself for what you’ve done these last three years, and this was just the first step. You have so much to look forward to, so why do you feel a sense of dread building in the pit of your stomach?

Ronan walks you to where you need to line up alphabetically, kissing your cheek and then, after leaning in and placing his large hand on your lower back, he whispers a joke about how you better not trip. You glance around the thick crowd for Jamie and Tommy. After realizing it’s hopeless to try and spot them in a group this large, you slip your cap over your hair and get in the procession line.

You try to soak in every minute of the day, from the speeches to the birds chirping in the background, but something akin to loss flutters at the base of your spine. You’re just as sad to be leaving Berkely as you are excited to carve out your future. Leaving here isn’t what’s causing you to feel this way, however. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’s just nerves; even with all the job offers coming in from your internships, it’s normal to be nervous about what comes next.

As the student union president gives his toast to the family and friends, you look down at your lap, pushing back the cuticle on your left thumb. Maybe it’s leaving Ronan. He’s been an anchor for you, grounding you almost every day of the last three years and you don’t know how you let yourself become this dependent on anyone, especially a man, again.

You shake your head at yourself and try to move your focus to the cuticle on your other thumb. Seeing the skin clean from the nail bed eases the tension slightly for you. ‘I’m allowed to be nervous when leaning on people, but not everyone will leave me,’ you recite almost automatically in your mind, the mantra you’ve had these past few years whenever you feel yourself getting this anxious. Just as you finish the thought, a car revs in the distance and the realization of what - or who - you’re actually missing slams through you so hard that you almost feel winded. Your lungs ache, tears pushing behind your eyes as his name rings loudly through your mind.

Joel.

You kept yourself busy since the minute you left Austin. The busier you were, the less time you had to focus on the void in your heart. During the school year, you didn’t have to find things to stay busy with; law school nearly chewed you up and spit you out. Over the summers, you worked as an intern and visited your friends. There was never a quiet moment, never too much time alone with your thoughts, and it was better this way. You can confidently say that you’d only thought of Joel six times since you walked out of his house that day: when you fell asleep on the beach and were so sunburnt you could barely move for three days; when you failed your first test; when your rusted SUV, that acted as your ticket to freedom at eighteen, died on the freeway in rush hour (from that point on you had to rely on public transportation to get you to the homes you cleaned). When you experienced your first earthquake; when you stayed up for forty-two hours straight after your partner in a group project didn’t have their side of the work done; and, lastly, this past New Year’s Eve when you were in Austin and thought you saw him at a party.

“Is he here?”, that little box of feelings that you shut away in a vault long ago wonders. “Has anything changed for him in the last three years?”

The small smile that pulls at your cheeks, and the excited flutter of your heart when you think about the possibility of seeing him again, proves that maybe nothing has changed for you. As the minutes tick by, your mind races with all the possible scenarios for after the ceremony. What if he is here? What will you say? What will he say? How will Ronan react, you know he has strong feelings about what happened between you and Joel. Even worse though, what if he’s not here? But maybe he’s at the hotel where Tommy and Jamie are staying?

Before you know it, your row is standing and walking single file towards the stage. With each strike of your high-heeled strappy sandals against the concrete, a memory of Joel floods your system. The toast he made you in his kitchen, the kiss in that dimly lit hallway on your birthday, the way he walked you through his club and how calmly he talked about you being in charge before going into the voyeur room. The multitude of orgasms he gave you within the four walls of his private room. Him singing on the small stage of the dive bar you found, followed by him spanking you right there in the bathroom with his hand clamped to your face to keep you quiet. His strong hand grasping your thigh as he drove you to his house. The way he tasted on your tongue. The smell of his skin: all ash and leather, occasionally mixed with whiskey or mint. The feel of his body: hard, broad and hot. His shuddered breaths as he confessed so many things in so few words.

‘It’s only you, sweet girl.’

‘Just call me Joel.’

‘I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.’

You carefully walk up the stairs, forcing the thoughts of Joel from your mind, just in time to hear your name announced as a graduate of Berkeley Law. You float across the stage, grabbing the piece of paper that acts as your degree until the real one comes, shaking the hand of the Dean who flips your tassel before you walk to the stairs on the other side; the stairs that symbolize the ending of your time here and the beginning of the rest of your life.

As you reach the top of the steps, you look out into the audience and see Jamie. She pumps her fist in the air and before you can process the empty seat beside her, you feel it; a strong tug from behind your navel. It takes you less than a heartbeat to find him and the sight before you floods your body with a familiar warmth. Standing under a large tree at the edge of the audience, dressed in all black, and holding his Stetson hat to his heart, is Joel. For the first time in years you feel whole again.

You keep your gaze on him, worried that if you so much as blink that he’ll be gone. You are supposed to follow your classmates, but you veer left, walking towards Joel. The closer you get, the more at ease you feel. He’s real, you think, he’s here. You stop a foot or so in front of him.

“Hi, Freckles,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes dance around your face, almost as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. You can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling exactly how you are.

“Hi, Sweet Cheeks,” you say, the same tremble in your voice, as you try desperately to hold it together. “You’re here.”

He nods and you give him a tight-lipped smile as your mind races. There’s so much you want to say, but now that he’s standing right there in front of you after three years, you don’t know where to start.

Joel breaks the silence, jutting his chin in the direction of the other graduates as he says, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend. When I saw you kiss, I was going to leave, but I made you a promise.”

You knit your eyebrows together and take a step closer. “Boyfriend?”

“The man you walked over here with,” Joel says, his black Stetson sliding down the chest you so desperately want to touch as he drops his hands to his sides. He’s left no barriers between the two of you except the heartbreak that’s evident on his face.

You laugh quietly, “No, he’s - that’s Ronan.”

Joel nods. “Okay.”

“He’s my friend,” you clarify, and when Joel’s face stays the same, you add, “And he’s still as gay as the day we first met!”

Joel lets out a whoosh of a breath and closes the distance between the two of you, his free hand comes to one of your curls, twirling the end of it around his thick fingers. Soft and silky meets rough and calloused. “I’m so proud of you, Freckles.”

You don’t miss how he watches your tongue dart between your lips, “Thank you.”

“So? How does it feel?” He gives you a soft crooked smile, his dimple carving into the short facial hair of his salt and pepper beard. Between that smile, and the way his brown eyes wash over you, you’re overcome with affection. He let you go. He did exactly as you asked him. He didn’t chase you or try to convince you to stay. You told him if he really loved you, then he’d do exactly this; and in turn, he did what he said he would.

He showed up.

“I love you,” you state and the air between you turns electric, almost like this moment could either set you both aflame or act as a generator for your future together. Joel gives you that look, the one that makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. He lets the curled end of your hair slip from his fingers, reaching up towards your graduation cap but hesitating.

“May I?” He rasps and swallows hard.

You nod, and knowing exactly what he’s going for, you take the Stetson from his other hand and place it on your head after he removes your cap. The brim of it blocks out everything but the two of you.

“Say that again, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” it’s barely a whisper this time. “Even after three years apart, you are everything to me. I asked you to let me go so I could accomplish this, and you did. You’ve always done what I asked, what I needed. I’m not sorry for what happened between us, but I am sorry that I missed out on getting to spend the last three years with you looking at me how you are now. I love you, Joel Miller.”

He brings his lips within a breath of yours, and your body practically vibrates with the knowledge that if you leaned just a bit forward, you’d finally have his mouth on you again. You can almost taste the mint on his tongue as the familiar fragrance of ash and leather surround you. “I have dreamed of hearing those three words leave your beautiful lips more times than I can count, baby. You’re it for me. I’ll do anything for you, even if it means breaking my own heart, but I’m always going to be here for you, rooting for you and encouraging you. I’m glad you’re not sorry, because I’m not, I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you, too, my sweet girl.”

Finally, he presses his warm, firm lips against yours while pulling you tight to his body. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding the black cowboy hat against your head with your other hand. It doesn’t matter that the ceremony isn’t done, or that there are hundreds of people to your right. For the first time in three years, everything goes quiet. He hums contentedly and you feel yourself melt against him, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss. He parts his lips, letting you take the first swipe of your tongue against his. Need floods your system, and based on the way he grinds into you, he’s feeling the same.

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours. “Take me home,” you practically purr.

“Where do you want home to be? I’ll go anywhere,” Joel rasps, running his nose down the bridge of yours.

“Austin,” you respond, your breath catching as his lips ghost along the side of your mouth.

“I sold my portion of the club to Tommy and Tess. I don’t have anything holding me in Austin anymore, sweet girl. If you have a job offer you really want, that’s where we’ll go.” You pull back to look at him. You can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s serious.

“I want to go to Austin. I have a job offer there.”

“Good thing I told Tommy not to touch my room at the club then.”

“That’s a very good thing,” you moan and then pull him in to kiss again. The audience behind you erupts into cheers, celebrating the accomplishments of every student in that crowd.

You’re a lawyer, and suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary.

Joel

Taking you home to Austin that night unfortunately wasn’t an option. After finding Jamie in the crowd, and being formally introduced to Ronan, he called the car to pick up the three of you. You all met Tommy at the restaurant, celebrating with all the expensive homemade pasta and overpriced wine that you wanted; even though seeing you in that curve-hugging velvet dress was slowly killing him. Joel had kept at least one hand on you since seeing you again, and he doesn’t plan on changing that anytime soon.

He didn’t want to rush you on your big night, so he waited patiently, listening to you tell stories of your last three years, and revelling in the evident joy that you and Jamie share over being together again. When dessert comes around he catches Tommy’s attention and gives him a small smile. It’s fitting that the two brothers, who have been so close their entire lives, would fall in love with best friends.

Once in his room, he spent two hours stripping you down at an almost painfully slow pace. He kissed every inch of your skin twice over and has pulled five orgasms, and counting, out of you so far.

Now, Joel is seated in the wide velvet arm chair in the corner of his hotel suite. His cock is buried deep inside of your tight cunt as you straddle him. Your skin feels like butter under his hands as he trails them along your back and the globes of your perfect ass. He’s missed tying you up, but this is what he longed for: the earth shattering intimacy he feels with you in these moments.

“Please,” you mumble into his neck, desperate to move your hips.

“Not until you answer me,” he demands softly. “How many times was it that you needed me, but were too stubborn to reach out?”

Earlier tonight you told him about the six times you really needed him. He’d kissed you softly after each confession, returning the trust with a time he needed you. After the last one, he’d pulled back to look at you with dark eyes. He’d hated that you needed him and he couldn’t be there. He’d clenched his back molars twice before he said you’d be denied six orgasms the next time you were at the club, but tonight you have permission to come as often as you need to.

He swats your already reddened ass cheek and your pussy flutters as you cry out. “Mister Miller, stop. Please, just let me move.”

“Do you need to use your safeword?”

“No,” you respond with a pout.

“How many times?” He says again through gritted teeth, even though already knows the answer.

“Six,” you sob.

He tuts and then growls, “That doesn’t sound like my good girl, does it?”

You shake your head against his throat and moan a sound of disagreement.

“Do you want to come for me again?”

“Yes, Mister Miller. Please!”

He trails his fingers up and down your back again, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin makes it easy for him to caress you. He smiles to himself at the shiver that racks through your body at his touch. You react so beautifully to him. “Yeah? You wanna grind your swollen little clit on my piercing, baby girl?”

“Please,” you whine again, stretching out all the vowels in the word.

“Show me. Ride my cock, take what you need.”

You lift your head from the crook in his neck and pull back slightly, rocking your hips back and forth; a sultry laugh leaves his lips at your eagerness. You look at him with hooded eyes, hair stuck to your forehead. His eyes trail down your neck to the bruises he sucked into your collar bone earlier and then to your breasts; both of which are covered in his marks. He watches the little gold nipple clamps, and the chain that connects them, bounce with each flick of your hips.

“That’s it, sweet girl. You look like a goddess, my goddess. Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours, baby,” you say through shallow breaths. He pulls at the chain and you cry out in pain. “S-sorry, Mister Miller.”

“Again, sweet girl. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Oh fuck, y-you, Mist -” his hands come to your face and when he whispers your name the rest of your sentence dies on your tongue.

“Just call me Joel.” The commanding voice of his alter ego is gone as he says it.

Your hips slow, changing from a frantic back and forth to a sensual swirling motion. “I’m yours, Joel. Forever.”

He kisses you softly, a silent telling of how vulnerable he is at this moment. “Don’t ask me to let you go ever again.”

The smile you give him causes his heart to skip, “I won’t.”

“You might, sweet girl. I won't survive it if you do, so I’m going to remind you of this moment as often as possible for the rest of my life. Remind you how much you’re loved and supported. You’re mine, Freckles.” Your hips swirl and he feels you tighten up around him. “Come for me, my sweet girl.”

“Fuck, fuck, Joel!” It’s a cry and moan all at once.

“I’m here, it’s ok, baby.” With that, your body shudders and you fall into him as you shatter. Your pussy clenches and releases rapidly around his length. His cock twitches, and once he can’t hold it anymore he relaxes, letting his orgasm rock through him in time with yours.

“I’m yours, too,” he gasps as he melts into you.

The End

Coming Soon:

Curious how Jamie ended up with her "dads new asshole friend?"

Part 2 of the BDSMaid Trilogy coming mid 2025!

Also, stay tuned for the epilogue for Joel and Sweet Girl.

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f1cflcfic · 2 days ago

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The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris)

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over – rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Part II can be read here! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

#lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #rpf x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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noxitsnox · 3 days ago

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if we get too closе, would it be okay?

hyun-ju x gn!reader - highschool au

summery: hyun-ju came out to her- now ex- girlfriend who spread the rumor around the whole school.

tags: trans/homophobia (the word tr**ny is used one (1) time), bullying, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff i promise, let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: i am obsessed it's not fair. this is pre-t but i'm still going to use she/her pronouns for hyun-ju <3 also english is not my first language and this isn't proof read, so i apologize for any mistake. @exactlyinfp

hyun-ju didn't want to go to school that day. her girlfriend, ex girlfriend now, broke up with her just because she trusted her, because she didn't want to hide anymore and she believed that her girlfriend of almost two years would understand. but she didn't. she called her all kind of names and blocked her everywhere.

she hoped this was where it ended. that they could just ignore each other and keep living life as it is. it would have been so much easier that way. but the moment she entered the school hallway she knew something happened. the looks she was getting were strange, full of hate. definitely not the looks you receive when you just broke up. she tried to ignore it and walked to her class with her head down.

it was early. a lot of time passed before some of her classmates entered the room. maybe it was better if they stayed outside. their chatter died down as soon as they saw her. one of them, who was seated next to her, took his desk and dragged it as far away from her as possible. “you're sick”, he said under his breath. “stay away from me.”

she stayed silent as the realization hit her. if he knew, everyone else did too. fighting tears, she forced herself to keep cool.

slowly people filled the room. everyone ignored her, even her so called friends looked at her with disgust. only y/n seemed to be acting as if nothing happened. maybe they didn't know about it yet. they’ll turn their back to you like everyone else, she thought.

“oh hyun-ju, how are you?”

y/n waited for an answer that never arrived. so, with a sad smile, they spoke again. “it's fine. you don't have to talk with me. you have my number in case you change your mind.”

———

for the rest of the week she ignored everyone. she was barely alive.

every morning she entered school feeling like a criminal. her locker in the changing rooms was filled with insults. some guys even tried to push her on the ground. that was the only moment she reacted. she could ignore words, but physical aggression was were she drew the line.

every night she cried herself to sleep, wishing she had someone on her side, someone to talk to. her family didn't know about what was happening in school and she hoped for it to stay that way or she wouldn't even have a home anymore.

it was on saturday afternoon that she lost it. she was out, getting some groceries for her mother at the local market, and she saw her ex with her friends. she tried to hide before they could notice her, but she wasn't fast enough.

"oh god, isn't that that tranny you used to date?", one said pointing at her.

"don't say that out loud, please. what will people think of me?"

hyun-ju ran away without even taking food from the market stall. she kept running until their voice became indistinguishable echoes.

she sat on the side walk and took out her phone, looking for y/n contact. she started crying, the tears blurring her vision.

their words came back to her. you have my number in case you change your mind. were they serious? she hesitantly called them, hoping for the best.

y/n didn't take long to answer and for that she was grateful.

"hey, you called!"

"i- yes... listen can you, can you come here?"

"oh hyun-ju, you're crying? is everything okay?"

"i don't even know anymore. please, just come here." and with that she hung up the phone, quickly shared the position with them.

she hugged her knees as she waited.

———

y/n was happy that hyun-ju called, even if the situation wasn't ideal. even though they weren't intimate, they cared about her and it made them sad to see her suffer. especially if she was being ridiculed for something beyond her control.

y/n tried to get to her as fast as possible. they went out in their sweats without bothering to put on something nicer. they didn't like the idea of hyun-ju seeing them in that state, but they also realized that they had to put vanity aside at the moment.

as soon as she saw y/n she got up and hugged. they remained in that position for a while. hyun-ju cried and cried while y/n rubbed her back, doing what they could to comfort her.

"sorry... i don't know why i did that", she said as she let go of them.

"you don't have to apologize. do you feel better now?"

"i do, thanks."

an awkward silence fell until y/n suggested they start walking with a wave of their hand, "do you wanna talk about what's happening?"

"i just want to forget about it. can we talk about something else?"

"oh sure", y/n looked at her and smiled. "do you wanna hear about this manga i'm reading?"

a/n: i realize that for an xreader the reader is barely there 😬 sorry. let me now if you liked it!!

#squid game #squid game x reader #cho hyunju #hyun ju x reader #hyun ju #hyun ju squid game #x reader #squid game x you #squid game x y/n #squid game season 2 #🦑:sg

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14dayswithyou · 3 hours ago

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How cutiesai made 14 Days With You

I've received quite a few requests in the past asking how I made 14DWY, what resources I used, how I organised my lore, etc. — so I figured I'd make one big post and share it with everyone else as well! It features a buuunch of helpful stuff I wish I'd known when I first made 14DWY, so hopefully this will help others too!

⚠ This is all copied & pasted from a Discord post I made back in early 2024! I'll also be adding to it over time, so feel free to check back every so often! ^^

What engine do I use?

14DWY uses the Ren'Py engine!

There are two preinstalled games (called "Tutorial" and "The Question") that give you a basic rundown on how to use the program!!

Zeil Learning's video called "Ren'py Tutorial For Beginners" is also a good place to start for those who have no idea where to begin with Ren'Py!

I also really recommend these Ren'Py resources:

Lemma Soft Forums

Ren'Py Discord server

Ren'Py subreddit

Zeil Learnings, ElaineDoesCoding, Visual Novel Design, and Ess Ren'Py Tutorials on YouTube

Searching through the "Ren'Py" tag on itch.io for community-made assets and resources (make sure to give credit if you use someone's asset(s))!

Feniks and Wattson offer some really helpful stuff!!

Not Ren'Py related, but helpful for creating a VN:

Obsidian and Notion for planning and worldbuilding

Visual Studio Code and Atom (comes preinstalled with Ren'Py iirc?) for scripting/coding

Pixabay and Pexels for royalty-free images and stock photos

DOVA-SYNDROME for music

Clip Studio Paint (paid) and Krita (free) for drawing

Toyhou.se to store your littol guys (If you need an invite code, I have over 300 to give away lmao ^^ Send in an ask to @cutiesigh if you'd like one!)

An itch.io account to upload your game for free and share it with others

General tips to keep in mind:

Make games for fun, not for fame. Too often, I see new developers create VNs with "trending tropes" because they see how successful it is and want the same level of popularity. As harsh as it sounds, this only makes your game feel hollow and superficial, and players will notice.

When using Ren'Py, it's better to have multiple .rpy files rather than putting everything into one large file!! It makes organising and finding things easier, and if something gets corrupted... at least you won't lose everything!

Plan everything beforehand, but give yourself room to expand and implement new ideas.

Start small and slowly expand over time. Don't start off with an overly ambitious project, as it can be disheartening when you put all this effort into something just for it not to gain any traction. Also, be grateful for your earliest supporters, as they're the ones who will lift your project off the ground!!

This is a personal preference, but I recommend starting off with itch.io as your main distribution platform. Most storefronts take a cut from your donations and revenue, and sites like Steam require a $100 fee just to publish your game on their platform. Itch is free, and you can even toggle off revenue sharing in your profile settings! (I like to keep it at 10% though, because I'm grateful for everything the site provides ♡)

If you ever need help with Ren'Py, you're always welcome to join the 14DWY Discord server and ping me in the help channel!

#💖 — 14 days with queue.#🖤 — shut up sai.#to be tagged later #faq

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earthchica · 12 hours ago

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Make It Right

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: Terry makes it right and apologizes to you for his words and his behavior; soon, you and Terry talk through your issues, getting a better understanding of each other and rebuilding your communication.

warnings: angst, slight communication issues, serious conversation, explicit smut (18+), light daddy kink, oral (f), rough pent-up sex, making out, flirting, fluff, domestic life, romantic dinner, family vacation, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, mama, baby girl & more ] words: 5k

note: please enjoy, but there may be some errors.

sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist previous chapter { everything I ever wanted }

You heard the soft creak of the bedroom door as it opened and then shut, the sound echoing in the quiet bedroom. Suddenly, a familiar warmth enveloped you as Terry wrapped his arms around you, trying to pull you into an embrace.

You could feel the weight of his body pressing against yours, but frustration bubbled up inside you. “Get off of me, Terry!” you exclaimed, your voice sharp and annoyant as you firmly shoved him away.

You shifted towards the head of the bed, separating you from the man you hurt your feelings. Terry stood there, a blend of guilt and despair washing over his features.

“I’m sorry, baby. I-I,” Terry stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush as his eyes roamed your face, searching for a glimmer of understanding.

The remorse in his gaze was sincerity, which struck a deep chord within you. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” He sat on the bed and moved closer, extending a hand as if trying to bridge the emotional depth that had formed between you.

“I’m so grateful to have you; you’re such an incredible wife and an amazing mother to our son.” His voice cracked slightly, laden with the weight of his apology, as he pleaded for you to see the truth in his words.

"No, why would you say you're tired of me? How could you say something like that to me of all people?" you yelled, your voice rising as a flood of emotions engulfed you.

A mix of anger and hurt made your heart race. "Baby, I didn't mean—" Terry started to respond, his voice still remorseful, but you couldn't let him finish.

You cut him off, allowing your pent-up emotions to spill like water gushing from a broken dam.

"Do you even grasp how I've been feeling these past few months?" your voice trembled, each word charged with frustration and hurt. "It feels like I'm carrying the whole load on my shoulders, all alone."

"If you’ve been feeling this, why didn't you communicate that to me? You know I'm not a damn mind reader!” Terry shot back, his tone rising and more urgent.

"So it's my fault again?” you retorted, your frustration boiling. “Why don't you take some accountability for once, Terry? You used to know how to support me or recognize when I was struggling without me having to spell it out for you."

Your words hung in the air, charged with the weight of unspoken expectations and the longing for understanding that felt increasingly out of reach.

Terry took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he faced you directly, the moment's weight heavy between you. “Look, I know I messed up badly,” he began, his voice low and sincere.

“I hurt you, and that’s not right. I should have never said I was tired of you. That was just disrespectful. You deserve so much better than that.”

Terry paused, searching for the right words, his eyes filled with regret. “I see how hard you work every day taking care of our son. You do everything for our family; I have taken that for granted. I haven’t been there like I should have been, allowing my frustrations to cloud my judgment.”

Terry stepped closer, his hands outstretched, palms up. “I got no excuses. What I said was wrong, and I’m ashamed of it. You’ve been carryin’ so much, I’m sorry, for real. I wanna make it right, whatever it takes. I'll support you better, listen more, and be the husband I know I can be.”

As he spoke, you could see the love and remorse etched on his face—deep lines of worry creased his brow. But it was hard for you to process his words fully at that moment.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger decrease slightly. "I hear you, Terry,” you said softly, almost dismissively. “But right now, I just need some space…I think you should sleep on the couch.”

You get off the bed to grab your shower cap, go to the bathroom, and close the door. You hear Terry leave the bedroom, the silence filling the space again.

After your shower, you take your time with your night routine, meticulously applying your skincare products as if the physical act could somehow cleanse the emotional turmoil still swirling inside you.

Each motion rhythm felt almost meditative, yet the weight of the conversation earlier loomed heavily in your mind. You are dressed in a comfortable tank top and pajama shorts, feeling the fabric against your skin, a small comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

Finally, you climbed into bed, the sheets cool against your skin, but the emptiness beside you felt overwhelming. The thought of Terry not being close to you despite the hurt made the room quiet.

You wrapped the thick blanket tightly around you, trying to find solace in the familiar fabric, yet you couldn't shake off the need for his presence.

Deep down, you craved the warmth of his body next to yours, the security you felt when he embraced him, even if your heart still stung from his words.

With a shaky sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and decided to seek him out. You padded down the hallway, glancing at the clock—it was already late, and you wondered how long you’d been lost in thought.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the sight of him slumped over on the small loveseat in the living room tugged at your heart. His long frame seemed crammed into the little seat, the edges of the cushions barely accommodating his size.

“Terry…” you called softly, barely rising above a whisper. He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, eyes widening with surprise and a hint of hope.

“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his voice thick with fatigue. “Um...” you started, crossing your arms over your chest, unsure how to proceed.

The remnants of the hurt and irritation still lingered, yet the sight of his uncomfortable state and weary expression stirred something inside you.

“Come to bed,” you said softly with no expression, and his expression shifted to relief. “Are you sure?” Terry asked, a mixture of cautious optimism laced in his tone.

“Yeah, just…come on,” you replied, trying to sound more convinced than you felt. Terry was always so imposing as he stood up but looked helpless and small.

Without another word, he followed you back upstairs, and the silence between you felt thick. As you entered the bedroom, you climbed back into the bed, the sheets still warm where you had been.

Terry lingered by the door momentarily, hesitation clear on his face. “Are you still upset?” he asked, his voice soft yet heavy with concern. “I am,” you replied, not wanting to lie or sugarcoat the situation.

“But I don’t want to sleep alone. Maybe we can talk more tomorrow when we’re both in a better headspace.” You said softly. Terry nodded, understanding and regret evident in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, he climbed into bed beside you, leaving a respectful and cautious distance between you. The silence hung between you until it was almost suffocating, but neither knew how to break it.

Instead, you both lay there, staring at the ceiling and pretending to be asleep. Eventually, sleep found its way to you both. The night felt long, but eventually, morning came with the promise of a new day.

As the sun peaked through the curtains, you stirred awake first, feeling the warmth of Terry's body against you, and you glanced over at him; your heart softened just a bit as you watched him breathe softly.

After last night's argument, some of you wanted to stay angry and distant from Terry, but another part just wanted things back to normal. You knew in your heart that you two would work this out somehow.

You turn over, gently reach over, and place your hand on his cheek before returning to sleep. Terry stirred slightly and cracked open an eye if you felt your touch even in his sleep.

Terry softly smiled at your sleepy state, knowing he had to make things right. He reached for his phone, the soft glow illuminating the dim room.

Sitting up, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for a tough day ahead—not at work, but at home. He scrolled through his contacts, dialing in to call your uncle.

“Hey, Uncle Eddie,” he said after a few rings. “I won’t be coming in today…yeah, personal reasons. I need to be home…Okay, thank you.” As he hung up, he glanced over at you, still half-asleep.

Terry slid out of bed quietly, careful not to wake you. Padding softly to the baby’s room, he gently lifted Elijah from the crib. Cradling him in his arms, he marveled momentarily at how small and innocent his son looked.

“Good morning, little man,” Terry whispered, bouncing Elijah slightly as he went downstairs to the kitchen. He set the little one in the high chair, securing him safely with the straps.

The baby’s sleepy gaze slowly transformed into a wide-eyed curiosity as he watched his daddy move about the kitchen. With Elijah happily sitting in his chair, Terry began preparing breakfast.

Terry rummaged through the fridge, pulling out eggs, milk, and fresh fruit. As he cracked the eggs into the skillet, their sizzling brought a sense of calm.

Cooking had always been a form of therapy for him. “Let’s get you some breakfast, too, huh?” he chimed to Elijah as he quickly poured him a bottle.

Terry could hear Elijah's soft noises of delight, making focusing easier. Deep down, he hoped that doing this would show you his sincerity.

After feeding Elijah, Terry made a generous portion of the breakfast for you and himself and set the table. As you wake up to an empty bed, you glance at the time and feel slightly panicked.

However, you hear Terry's voice through the baby monitor, talking to Elijah in the kitchen about you, hoping this would be the start of you forgiving him for your argument last night.

As you got out of bed, rubbed the sleep from your eyes, went to brush your teeth, and washed your face before strolling downstairs towards the kitchen.

The aroma of breakfast wafting through the air, making your stomach rumble. Terry turned as he caught sight of you, a sheepish smile lighting up his face.

“Morning,” he said warmly, his voice brightening the atmosphere. “I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite,” he added; you tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “My favorite?”

“Yeah,” he replied, setting a plate on the table before you. “Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. I know you usually love a little bit of everything.”

As you sat, Elijah babbled enthusiastically in his high chair, excited to see both of you. You couldn’t help but smile at your son and kiss his forehead. "Good morning, baby boy"

You started to eat, the first few bites eliciting a sense of normalcy you desperately craved. “Thanks for making breakfast, Terry,” you said softly, focusing on Elijah. “It smells amazing.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” Terry admitted, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I know.....last night. I hate that we left things unresolved.”

You looked up from your plate, gauging Terry’s expression. His eyes were sincere, mixed with an undercurrent of regret. “Yeah, I appreciate that you’re trying this morning.”

Terry nodded slightly, the weight of his guilt apparent in each motion. “I just want you to know again I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated, and I didn’t handle it well.”

You paused before responding. “I get that, Terry, but when you said that to me...my heart broke, and I thought we were locked on this, I thought-.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone dropping to a more serious level. “It’s just so hard sometimes, balancing everything— Elijah, work, our marriage. I let the stress get the best of me and took it out on you.”

"Well, I think we really need to work on our communication because ever since Elijah was born, I feel like we've lost sight of that strength we've built," you said, your voice filled with realization.

Terry acknowledged the tension in his shoulders, easing just a bit. “You're right. I've noticed it, too. I miss how we used to talk, how we could share anything without worry.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of those words resonating deeply. “Yeah, me too. Remember those late-night talks we used to have? We'd stay up for hours just dreaming about our future, making plans together. Now it feels like we're just trying to survive the day.”

“Yeah,” he said, his expression softening. “I want to go back to that. “We have to find a way to carve out time for us, even if it's just small moments here and there.”

“What do you think that looks like?” you asked, genuinely curious. “How can we make it happen?” you added. Terry took a moment, clearly contemplating.

“Maybe we could set aside a few minutes each night after Elijah goes to bed. We could just talk about our day or even watch something together. Something light and fun.”

“That sounds nice,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. “I would love that. But I also think we need to be able to have those conversations when things get tough. It can't all be about being positive; we must address the heavy stuff, too.”

Terry thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You're right. I think it's so easy to avoid conflict, thinking it will just resolve itself. But it won't, will it? We have to face it head-on before resentment builds up.”

“I can be guilty of that too,” you admitted, feeling the weight of the past few months crash over you. “I've been just bottling things up instead of expressing my feelings. It’s easier to keep the peace, even if it eats away at me.”

“I get that,” he said softly, his gaze steady on you. “But I promise to do better. I want to hear what you say, baby, no matter how difficult. I care about your feelings and will be a better husband; I want to be a better husband.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Terry. That means a lot, and you are a good husband and a father. We're in a tough patch, and I'm sure we'll get through. I want you to feel the same way. We need to make this a mutual effort. If I ever say something that bothers you, please don't hesitate to let me know.”

Terry reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “You have my word. And I hope you know I'm committed to strengthening our marriage. There's nothing more important to me than you and Elijah; “I love you, baby.”

"I love you too, Terry." With those words lingering in the air, you both shared a transformative moment of understanding. It wasn't an immediate solution to all your problems, but it was a solid step.

The past few weeks have been a turning point for both of you. Communicating openly like you used to, sharing your thoughts and feelings without the weight of tension lingering in the air, had lightened the load on your heart.

As you and Terry cuddled on the couch, the warmth of his body against yours felt comforting. The lamp's soft glow lit the room just enough to create an intimate atmosphere.

You watched Elijah through the baby monitor, sleeping peacefully in his crib. “Wow, you came through, huh?” you said playfully, playing with his ears.

“I feel like I barely had to lift a finger with the housework and Elijah. You got my back like that?” You said with a smile. Terry chuckled, leaning closer to you.

“Well, if I keep you happy, it’s a win-win situation, right?” He pretended to flex his muscles, and you both laughed at the moment's silliness.

“You’re so crazy,” you teased, smirking at him. “But real talk, I appreciate it. I feel like I can finally breathe again. It’s been a minute since we had this together.”

“Right? I missed this, alot, I mean a lot a lot ” Terry expressed, his face turning soft. He brushed his thumb along your cheek, making your heart flutter.

“You know I love you, sweetheart, I wanna see you shine and be happy,” Terry said, and you smiled, feeling a little bashful under his gaze.

“Aww, Terry, I love you too so much. I know I can get caught up in my head often, but having you step up like this? It just makes me feel so much better.”

Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “You keep saying how I stepped up, but it’s us together making it work. You’re the heart of this whole household, baby.”

Terry paused momentarily, still gazing into your eyes, and you could feel the heat rising between you. “We’ve been keeping things going in the house lately, being a team.”

“True, that's how it's supposed to be. And it feels good to be back in sync,” you responded, feeling at ease. “It’s nice to know you’re all in, and I’m all in too.”

With that, Terry leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a slow kiss. It was sweet at first, but gradually, it deepened, both of you melting into the moment as your bodies relaxed against each other.

A playful glint sparkled in his eye when he gently pulled away, hinting at a fun idea. “You know,” he said, his voice brimming with excitement.

"We should plan a little family getaway. Somewhere we can kick back and truly relax.” He said deeply low. “A vacation?” you replied, raising an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Really?” you asked, and Terry leaned closer, the enthusiasm contagious as he continued. “Yeah! How about we spend a weekend at that villa we used to visit in Cancun?"

"And we could invite your parents to join us. It would be an excellent opportunity to unplug from all the chaos and have fun.” His eyes lit up with the thought, a sparkle mirroring his excitement.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, imagining the warm sands and gentle ocean breezes. “That sounds amazing! I adore that place. It holds so many wonderful memories for us."

"—it’s where it all began. Plus, this would be Elijah's very first vacation! What a special way to introduce him to such a beautiful location.” You gasped.

Terry chuckled softly, “So, you wanna do it?” You nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across your face. “Let’s do it! I can already envision the memories we can make.”

Cancun, Mexico

The sun hung high in the cerulean sky, casting a warm golden glow over the peaceful Cancun shoreline as the day unfolded—a perfect Sunday morning.

The gentle sound of waves lapping against the soft, powdery sand created a soothing rhythm while a refreshing breeze played against your dark-brown skin, carrying the faint scent of salt and beach flowers.

Elijah giggled uncontrollably as he splashed playfully in the sandy oasis around him. Tiny grains of sand stuck to his little fingers and toes, glistening like miniature jewels in the sunlight.

You and your mom were fully immersed in the moment, working together to construct an elaborate sandcastle. Its towers rose proudly, decorated with seashells and bits of seaweed, as you all hoped it could withstand the approaching tide.

“Look at you, Eli! You love the sand, huh?!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection. The moment's joy was captured forever as you snapped a picture of his bright smile, his hazel eyes sparkling with delight.

Elijah's laughter echoed around you, filling the air with pure joy as you and your mom continued to shape the sandcastle. Your dad strolled, still wet from his time on the jet skis, with a broad grin.

“Y’all got some serious skills over here!” he called out, surveying the castle. "That’s lookin’ like a real palace for my grandbaby!" Your mom chuckled, smoothing out a rough edge of the sandcastle.

“A palace fit for a prince! Ain’t he just the cutest?” She looked down at Elijah, who was now trying to pick up a handful of sand and giggling when it slipped through his tiny fingers.

“Right?” you replied, grinning. Your dad squatted beside Elijah, chuckling as the baby reached out toward him, his little hands covered in sand.

“Hey, Eli? Are you makin’ masterpieces over here? You tryna start a sand empire?” He asked. Elijah let out a squeal of delight, and your dad couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aww, look at that smile! He’s sayin’ ‘I got this, grandpa!’” Just then, Terry wandered back from the jet skis, a towel draped around his neck.

“What's going on? Y’all makin’ a sandcastle? I wanna see!” Terry said, leaning down, peering curiously at Elijah. “And there’s my number one fan!”

“Look at him, Terry!” you exclaimed, scooping Elijah into your arms as his face lit up at the sight of his daddy. “He’s ready to take on the beach. He’s got sand in places I didn’t even think was possible!”

Terry laughed, reaching out to tickle Elijah’s belly, causing him to burst out in another fit of giggles. “Man, how did we get so lucky? He’s a whole treasure out here!”

“Right, such a blessing!” your mom chimed in. You looked at the happy scene around you—your parents, your husband, and your precious son—and felt your warm heart swell.

“This is what it’s all about, y’all. Family!” You said softly, and Terry smiled at you sweetly. “That's right!” your dad agreed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“We gotta make the most of these days, y’know? Family, fun, and all this love. Ain’t nothin’ better!” With everyone laughing and loving on Elijah, the sun shone brightly overhead, casting a golden glow over your little beach paradise.

Later.

The afternoon unfolded beautifully as your family gathered around the spacious dining table at the villa, sharing a delightful lunch filled with laughter and stories.

The warm sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow on the cozy living room where everyone eventually settled in. Plush cushions beckoned from the oversized sofas, and the aroma of delicious food lingered in the air.

Your parents, visibly relaxed and content, cherished their time with Elijah, engaging in lighthearted conversations that filled the room with joy and warmth.

Terry leaned over to you, a playful grin on his face. “How about a little adventure?” he whispered, eyeing your parents, who were busily playing their grandson.

“What do you have in mind, handsome man?” you asked, intrigued. Terry glanced toward your mom and dad. "Well, I would you love to take you out for dinner? Just the two of us?”

Your heart raced with excitement. “Really? What about Elijah?”

“Don’t worry,” he replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ll ask your parents to watch him, so we can have some time for ourselves.” You couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of a romantic evening.

With every detail, he sparked a thrill in your heart that had been dormant for too long. “Okay, you’ve got a deal!” You said with a smile, you rushed upstairs to freshen up.

You pulled out a multicolored sundress adorned with shapes and designs. You applied some light makeup, focusing on a touch of lip gloss that shimmered in the fading sunlight.

Staring at your reflection, you felt nostalgia and excitement, feeling beautiful and ready for the evening ahead. When you returned to where your parents and Elijah were gathered, your dad raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

“Wow, look at you, miss thang! Someone’s got a hot date!” He teased, and you laughed. “Just a little dinner with Terry. He has a surprise planned for us.”

"Sounds wonderful! And you two deserve it, sweet pea." Your dad said with a light smile on his face, and your mom clapped her hands together.

“Yeah. We’ll take good care of Elijah. You both go enjoy your night!” Your mom said with a smile, and you nodded, giving Elijah a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

You met Terry at the beach's edge, his eyes lighting up as he took in your dress. “You look stunning, baby,” Terry said, taking your hand as you walked together towards the car.

The drive was filled with easy conversation and laughter. As you neared your destination, you noticed a seaside restaurant nestled under twinkling lights, music wafting from within.

“Is this our spot?” you asked, excitement bubbling. “Yup! I figured we could have a nice dinner followed by some dancing,” he said with a wink, holding the door open for you as you stepped out.

Inside, the ambiance was warm and inviting, with flickering candles on the tables and soft music playing in the background. After being seated, you both ordered and sipped on lemonade while discussing anything.

Terry leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “So, you got any plans for when we take over the dance floor, huh?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You chuckled softly, tilting your head. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Mr. Smooth! I’m ready to turn this place out.” You twirled strands of hair around your finger, feeling the chemistry between you.

Terry raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh really now? Do you think you can keep up with me? I might spin you so fast you'll forget where you are!”

You laughed, biting your lip playfully as you met his gaze. “Honey, I was born ready! Just wait till I hit you with these hips. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Is that a challenge, baby girl?” Terry asked, feigning shock as he leaned closer. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a warm hug.

“Because if it is… well, I’m here for it.” His voice dipped low, drawing you in. The waiter arrived with your appetizers, but neither of you paid much attention.

Your eyes were locked in a playful duel. “You know I never back down from a challenge,” you replied boldly, lifting your glass in a mock salute before sipping the lemonade.

He watched every move you made with a smile that made your heart flutter. “And that’s exactly why I love ya,” he said softly, his tone turning more sincere.

It felt like old times, just the two of you in each other's company, the laughter ringing like music. After dinner, the music softened, and the atmosphere turned more romantic.

Terry stood, extending his hand to you. “Shall we?” With a smile, you took his hand as he led you to the dance floor, where the soft light danced around you like fireflies on a warm summer night.

As you swayed together, you felt the rhythm of the music seep into your bones. Terry pulled you closer, his hands resting gently on your lower back, confidently guiding you.

The world around you faded, and it was just him and you, lost in this moment. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings that made your heart swell.

“Look at you, movin’ like you own this floor,” Terry murmured, admiration dripping from his voice. “Ain’t nobody can do it like you can, sweetheart.”

You felt a rush of heat at his words, a giddy thrill igniting your chest. “Terry,” you replied, biting back a smile as you twirled under his arm, relishing how he effortlessly caught you again.

“You know how to make a girl feel special.” You said, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart sync with yours.

Terry chuckled lowly, tilting your chin up to meet your eyes. “Nah, baby girl, it’s all about you. Every move, every glance— I can’t help but be mesmerized,” he said earnestly.

“You’re my whole world.” His gaze held yours captive; it was intimate and raw, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace.

“You know what you are doing!” You laughed lightly as your cheeks warmed under his adoration. “Maybe...but I'm just speaking the truth,” he whispers, kissing your lips.

The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush that sent shivers down your spine. Time seemed to slow as you melted into him, the world around you fading.

You could taste the sweetness of the lemonade mingled with the warmth of his breath, an intoxicating blend that left you craving more.

As the music swelled, so did your passion. Terry deepened the kiss, his hands roaming from your waist to your ass, pulling you closer as if he wanted to erase any space between you.

“Baby,” Terry breathed against your lips, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You gotta know what kinda hold you got on me.”

You laughed softly, feeling emboldened by his affection. “Oh really? Is that right?” You leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his cheek, an invitation that promised more.

“Yeah...hey, I have something else special,” he replied with a playful smirk. His eyes sparkled as he twirled you again, then pulled you back into him, letting the music guide your movements.

“After this amazing dinner, what could you have else planned, Terry?" You asked as your bodies moved harmoniously, hips swaying together like they were made for this dance.

This moment where nothing else mattered. "You'll have to see, come on," he whispered, took your hand, leading you back to the table to settle the bill.

“You ready for this?” he asked, glancing at you with that glint in his eye that always made your heart skip. “Ready as I’ll ever be! Let’s go!” you answered, excitement bubbling over.

You stepped out into the cool night air, hand in hand. You two were in the car again and eventually made where you two were going. “Terry, where we goin’?” you asked, curiosity bubbling up like champagne, your heart racing as he pulled you along.

“Just trust me, baby,” he said over his shoulder, his smile mischievous and inviting. “I promise it’s somethin’ real special.”

You squeezed his hand, excitement surging through you as he navigated through the small villa. Every step was a tease; every turn held the potential for surprise.

Finally, he stopped in front of an ornate wooden door. He turned to you, letting go of your hand just long enough to pull out a small key from his pocket.

“Now, don't be peekin',” Terry said with a grin as he unlocked it. Your anticipation heightened as the door creaked open, revealing a cozy space bathed in warm golden light.

“Oh wow…” you breathed as you stepped inside, your heart leaping at the sight before you—a smaller villa impeccably decorated with rich crimson roses scattered across the bed and soft candlelight illuminating every corner.

“Surprise!” Terry announced proudly, closing the door behind you both. “I figured we needed a little time on this vacation just for us.” You spun around to face him, unable to contain your joy.

“Terry! This is, this is so beautiful and sweet! You really thought of everything!” You said softly, looking at him happily.

“Aww, you know I had to treat you right, baby. “Ain't nothin' but the best for my queen,” he said, his voice smooth like honey as he stepped closer, closing the space between you two.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, sending shivers down your spine. “Terry, I love you,” you replied with a grin, your heart fluttering like a butterfly in spring.

Terry's eyes danced with mischief as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear. “Oh, baby, I love you too," Terry said, reaching for your waist.

Terry pulled you against him as his lips met yours with an urgent hunger. The kiss ignited a fire within you, deepening as he playfully nibbled on your bottom lip.

“Taste so sweet,” Terry murmured against your mouth before pulling away just enough to gaze intently into your eyes. His hands slid down to cup your ass, lifting you up slightly to the bed.

“I've been wanting you all night” Terry growled, his breath hot against your skin as he sat you on the bed. The soft sheets beckoned you both as he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Look at you” Terry teased, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he traced a finger along your jawline. “Got all dressed up and ready for me; now it's time to rip that shit off.”

With that, he started peeling off your dress, bra, and panties like they were the layers of an onion, revealing every inch of your skin to him." fuck baby,” he said appreciatively, feasting his eyes on your body.

“You're so damn stunning.” His voice dropped low, sending shivers through you. “I could get lost in you.” He added. “Oh, Terry…” you breathed out, feeling the heat between you two intensify.

Terry leaned closer, his hands exploring every curve and dip of your body before trailing down to your thighs. “You smell good, too,” he murmured as he kissed down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

“I bet you taste even better.” You could feel the electricity crackling as he moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. “Gonna make you scream my name tonight,” he promised with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Baby, don’t tease me like that,” you replied breathlessly, biting your lip in anticipation. His presence was intoxicating, and every moment felt like it was building to something spectacular.

“I ain’t teasin’; I’m just gettin' started,” Terry responded, his voice dripping with a sultry confidence that sent heat racing through your veins.

Terry grinned, eyes glinting as he knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. “Now open up for me, mama,” he commanded softly, the authority in his tone making your heart race even faster.

“I wanna taste that sweet, wet pussy of yours the way you know I can.” He said sensual and you shivered at the intensity of his gaze, feeling wholly exposed yet utterly safe in his presence.

“Terry,” you gasped, your body arching instinctively toward him. Terry smirked as he spread your thighs wider, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.

With no warning, he dove in hungrily, lips wrapping around your most sensitive spot and sucking gently while his tongue flicked teasingly over you.

The sensation hit you like a tidal wave, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending. "Oh, shit! Terry," you moaned, gripping the sheets as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

“You taste so damn incredible,” Terry growled against you, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through your core. “Like candy…I could spend all night down here.”

His tongue danced expertly, swirling and teasing as he took his time savoring every inch of you. “Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” you begged, your voice breathy and filled with desperation.

You could feel it building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to burst. “I’m close, baby! Just like that!” You cried out, the words tumbling from your lips as his mouth worked its magic.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Terry growled, deepening his rhythm as he added a finger, sliding it inside you just right. “C’mon, let me feel you.” He watched with satisfaction as your body responded to him, arching and writhing beneath his touch.

“Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart,” Terry demanded, his voice thick with desire. You could barely form words; each syllable was swallowed by the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“It feels… so fucking good, Terry!” you gasped out, your hand finding the back of his head, pulling him closer as if that could draw him deeper into you. “Don’t stop… I need to cum.”

“Then do it for me,” Terry urged, his tongue flicking faster against your sensitive bud while pumping his fingers in and out of you with expert precision. “Let me taste all that sweetness.”

And just like that, the coil inside you snapped. You cried out his name like a prayer, waves of ecstasy washing over you as your body quaked in pleasure.

“Oh ahhh fuck, Terry!” Your voice echoed in the room as you caved to the bliss. He lapped at every sweetness that flowed from you, savoring your release as if it were the finest delicacy.

“Damn, baby! You’re so beautiful when you cum,” Terry said, kissing along your inner thighs. You were panted, barely able to catch your breath.

“That was…” You couldn't get the words out; they were still coming down from your high. “I know, baby girl,” he said, winking at you as he got off the bed to take his clothes off.

Terry climbed back on top of the bed, his muscular arms flexing as he positioned himself between your legs. His eyes locked with yours as he pressed the tip of his big, throbbing dick against your wet pussy.

“Tell me what you want, sexy,” he purred in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want Daddy to make love to his good girl or fuck her senseless?”

You looked into his eyes, the fire igniting a corresponding flame within you. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you growled, the words leaving a wake of desire in their path. “Fuck me 'til I can't walk straight.”

"You got it, baby," he said with a mischievous grin. Terry slammed his dick inside you, filling you to the hilt and setting every nerve ending ablaze.

"Damn, mmmm...you feel so amazing!" His breathing was labored and erratic as he pulled back out slowly before slamming back in even harder.

"Goddamn, yes, Terry! yes, Fuck me like you mean it!" Your words mixed with moans as he relentlessly pounded into you. "Harder, Terry! I want it harder!"

"No problem, babe," he grunted, picking up the pace. Sweat beading on both your brows as your bodies slapped together in carnal rhythm. “I’m gonna give it to you so good,” he said with a moan.

"I know you will, Terry," you moaned. "I know you gonna fuck me senseless."

"You better believe it," he growled, reaching around to roughly squeeze one of your plump breasts, tweaking the hard nipple between his fingers.

"You like that, huh? You like it when Daddy squeezes your tits while he fucks you?"

"Yes! Yes, Daddy, I love it!" you cried out, arching your back to meet him stroke for filthy stroke. "Squeeze them harder, make me cum again!"

Terry obliged, pinching and twisting your nipples as he continued to pound into you mercilessly. Your moans filled the room, bouncing off the walls in a symphony of lust and desire.

"Oh shit, baby, I'm close," Terry grunted, his breath coming in short pants. "I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"

"Cum inside me! Cum deep inside of me and show me how much you love me!" you screamed, your own orgasm building up once more.

"Damn, my nasty girl," Terry groaned before picking up the pace even more. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart. Feels like heaven. fuck I love you.”

As if that were the final push needed, both of you came undone together. Terry roared out his release as he pumped hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

"Terry, Terry, Terry" you screamed, chanting his name at the top of your lungs as your body quaked with another mind-shattering orgasm.

Your bodies trembled together as the last waves of pleasure washed over you. Terry collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence as you both struggled to catch your breath.

After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms. "That was…incredible," you panted, nuzzling into his chest. "You're incredible," Terry murmured, kissing your forehead tenderly.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as your heartbeats slowly returned to normal. You lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow.

#Terry Richmond x Black Reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond #terry richmond x black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black fem reader #terry richmond x black! fem plus size reader #terry Richmond x plus size reader #terry richmond x fem reader #terry richmond fluff #rebel ridge #terry richmond angst

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isagispuzzle · 2 days ago

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Hihi, congrats on 200 followers!! I'm a relatively new follower, and im absolutely OBSESSED with your writing (speaking of which, I apologize if I have been spam liking. I try not to but damn I really need your work injected into my brain or something)

Anyways, could I request childhood friends to lovers for your event? I don't know how or why but one day something just clicked in my brain and it's been my favorite troupe for years

thank you so much for your support!! i love it when people spam like my stuff because i just imagine someone sitting down to read what i've written, and it makes me so happy to know my writing is letting someone enjoy a few minutes of their day hehe, i hope you'll enjoy this little piece too!

itoshi rin is bad news. at least, that's what your classmates tell you in the stands of the u-20 match.

even though you've known him since he was barely a metre tall, it's the first time you've seen him like this. rin is darting across the field with crazed eyes and his tongue out, engulfed by a desperation that puts the despair he felt on the night sae came home to shame.

you can't jump to his defence this time, though. ever since you were kids, rin would smash his toys together so hard the plastic crumbled in his hands and tell you how and when he wants to die, although kids that age have barely started to think about living. so you keep your mouth shut but your heart hopeful, because despite his destructive tendencies, rin is still your friend, and deep in his eyes, you still see his seven year old self.

it's hard not to blame sae for this. you know how much rin respected his brother when they were younger, but you also know how their relationship soured, at least on rin's side of the story. you tamp down the resentment. no matter how much blame you want to throw around, it doesn't change that what rin needs is reprieve.

days later when rin hugs you at the dock, he thanks you. it's rare for a sixteen year old boy to speak so vulnerably, what's more if said teenage boy is itoshi rin, so you listen silently, lest the moment breaks.

rin doesn't elaborate further, but he hopes his heart gets through to you. he hopes you know how grateful he is for your tenderness, even when he's anything but. he hopes you continue to welcome him into your arms and trace featherlight circles on his back, and hopes you continue to come to his matches and never look away no matter what ugly side of him comes out on the field. he hopes you know how terrified he is right now, placing his heart in your palms and his neck to your blade.

it's only when rin feels your fingers in his hair that he realises he's mistaken. you've never held a knife to his pulse. instead, you give him your toys when he breaks his, you bring your friends to amplify your cheers for him in the crowd, and you're the one with your heart in his cold, calloused hands.

you've always been the salvation to his destruction, and unlike everything else he's ever laid his hands on, rin swears to never break your heart.

#isagispuzzle hits 200 followers!#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #emma is thinking...

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slushiepizza · 1 day ago

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A Thank You and Goodbye from me and Guy

Hi, everyone. I apologize for the long absence and disappearance, but after being gone for a while, I realized that I'd rather not leave without saying goodbye.

Sadly I have lost interest in Redacted and will no longer be active in this account. Although I might still use my ao3 account to post writing in other fandoms and things that catch my eye. This account will still be up! As I understand how painful it is to lose archive of the things you like, I won't deactivate the account so everything will still be here to come back to.

Creating art and writing for this account got me through a very difficult period of my life- and it's all thanks to the support that I've gotten from everyone. Slushiepizza has felt like home for me for a long time, and it's given me the chance to talk and interact with really kind and talented people. But it's time for me to pack my bags and move on to other things.

I'm very grateful to have found all of you, and I'll always look back on the fandom, Guy, and the friends I have made here very fondly.

And If you're wondering about the lack of resolution in my Guy comics, just know that in my mind, he and Honey are getting ready for work in the morning with the sunlight passing through the curtains of their room. Guy has had his most recent screenplay approved, and Honey is very proud of him. They're still very in love.

It's post new years, and they're awaiting the future with open arms because they know that things are good and will get better.

Everything will get better.

I hope this year and the next and the next and the next treats all of you just as kindly as you have to me. See you around! Thank you so much for everything.

#slushierambles #redacted audio #redacted guy #redacted asmr

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chrystal-ink · 1 day ago

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Shadow X GN Reader

Intertwined

Based off of one of my favorite Dodie songs Shadow has a nightmare and you comfort him back to sleep lot of hurt/comfort with lots of sweet cuddles.

-Enjoy

It was his thrashing that woke you up. with the sheer amount of trauma it was never a bother to you, his nightmares. you were used to them at this point it. Still seeing the love of your life suffer at the chaos in his own mind made your heart break just as much as the first time you saw it.

you learned to proceed with caution, waking him up prematurely could cause him further confusion which would only make the situation worse. sometimes as much as your hand pressed against his back was enough to calm him down no waking up necessary. unfortunately, tonight was not one of those nights.

Shadow bolted upright out of bed letting out a cry of agony his eyes shot open as tears began to stream soaking his face and dripping onto the bedsheets below.

"Hey, hey, hey, I'm here it's okay." you leaped into action speaking gently as you made your way into his line of vision. "Take a deep breath it was just a dream. you're safe, I promise."

Shadow obeyed as you gently cupped his face wiping the tears from his eyes. He was shaking whatever he was dreaming about really must have messed with his head.

you wrapped your arms around him attempting to steady him. he buried his face in the crook of your neck wrapping his arms tightly around you, as if you were to disappear if he let go.

You waited for him to speak. It always took him a moment to collect his thoughts after a particularly bad nightmare.

"Are you sure you're safe with me?" He finally broke the silence.

"What? Of course I am, What makes you think that?"

"I know that people want me for my power, they can't hurt me, they know that, but what's keeping them from hurting you? Eggman he took you, tortured you, and let you die in front of me. all while I was powerless to stop him."

"That's not going to happen Shadow."

"How do you know?"

"Because, You won't let it, and neither will I, you trained me to protect myself remember?"

"yah but-"

"There will always be a but my love. Being with you, being with anyone really, there is always some sort of risk. I chose you and will continue to choose you despite those risks. Not because I don't care about them, but because every second you're in my life it makes all of those risks worth it. Feel this." You placed his hand on your chest so he could feel your pulse. "I'm still here, see? and you're here with me, which means no matter what even if an enemy crashes through that door right now I am still safe because were together."

"I still worry about you."

"I know, and I'm grateful just relax and lay with me for now, tell me everything I want to hear it you don't have to go through it alone.

You laid down, Shadow following suit placing his head on your chest so he could hear your heart beat, the rhythmic thumping calming him as he wrapped himself around you.

'Skin. Heat. Hair in your mouth, feet touching feet. you and I, safe from the world, though the world will try.'

you stroked the top of his head feeling him melt into you as your hand moved along his silky quills.

"You know you're the only one who can do that right?" He commented

You giggled "Yah, I Know"

You felt him smile against you.

'Numb, Fine, You create the rarity of my genuine smile. So breathe, breathe with me.'

Shadow began telling you about his nightmare, all the horrible details of an event that would never come to pass. He told you about the anxiety he felt when he couldn't find you. how he hated himself for letting you get hurt even though it was just a dream. he didn't want his mind to go there it just did on it's own.

'Can you drink all my thoughts cause I can't stand them'

Shadow wrapped himself around you further, as if he were trying to merge your bodies together, so you would never have to be apart again.

"I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you on my watch, I can't lose you, not in the way I lost everyone else."

"I know dear, that's why I won't let it happen."

'Intertwined. Free. I've pinned each and every hope on you, i hope that you don't bleed with me.'

the more shadow talked the more at ease you felt him become, his grip loosened on you as his muscles relaxed, his head grew heavy against you easing you into a relaxed state as well.

When he was done you thanked him for telling you everything, you reassured him that everything would be fine, as long as the two of you worked as a team which seemed to comfort him.

'I'm afraid of the things in my brain. but we can stay here and laugh away the fear'

you hummed mindlessly as you stroked Shadows head lulling him to sleep, you followed suit not long after. The rest of the night was silent as the two of you slept in each other's arms, fighting off whatever nightmares came your lover's way.

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow #x reader #sonic fanfiction #not beta read #hurt/comfort

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zylokv · 3 days ago

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VOW UNDONE. — myoui mina

❝ you're my spouse on paper, however you're not my responsibility.❞

synopsis — the betrayal hits harder when it comes from someone you thought had your back.

word count ! — 10.4k

— myoui mina x reader !

notice — heavily inspired by @neoplatinum, aswell as cozuzi and a bit of queen of tears.

disclaimer ! — this story is a work of fiction. the portrayal of characters, events, and relationships does not reflect the real lives or personalities of any individuals mentioned. themes of infidelity and emotional conflict are explored, but the intention is not to glamorize toxic behavior.

series masterlist !

part five !

your fingers hover over the screen as the video ends, but you don’t move. the room feels colder, quieter, suffocating in its stillness. you blink, but the tears that well up refuse to fall, blurring the edges of everything.

your chest feels tight, the kind of ache that spreads, starting small and then consuming you, piece by piece. your hands tremble, gripping the usb drive like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored.

because you know. deep down, you know.

you try to take a breath, but it hitches, a sharp, jagged thing that only makes your head spin more.

“fuck,” you whisper, the word cracking as it leaves your lips.

the realization feels too big, too heavy to hold on your own. you stand abruptly, pushing back your chair so hard it scrapes against the floor, the sound grating.

you need answers. you need someone to tell you why.

grabbing your coat and keys, you shove the usb drive into your pocket and head for the door, not even bothering to lock it behind you. the drive to sehun’s office is a blur. the tears don’t fall, but your chest burns with the effort of holding them back.

it’s only when you burst through his office door that the dam finally starts to crack.

“you,” you choke out, voice already raw.

sehun looks up, startled, his usual smirk wiped clean off his face when he sees yours.

“hey, what’s going—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice trembling. you take a step closer, your hand gripping the back of a chair like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

he stands, his brows knitting in concern—or maybe it’s guilt. “okay, let’s take a breath—”

“don’t you fucking tell me to breathe,” you snap, your voice breaking.

the anger rises first, sharp and hot, and before you know it, your fist slams against his desk. the pain shoots up your arm, grounding you for just a second before you’re looking at him again, eyes wild and brimming with unshed tears.

“you knew, didn’t you?” your voice shakes, but the words spill out anyway. “you knew what was on that drive, and you still gave it to me.”

sehun’s face hardens, but there’s something softer in his eyes—pity, maybe. you hate it.

“listen—”

“no, you listen!” you’re shouting now, the tears finally spilling over, hot and relentless. “do you have any idea what it’s like? to see that? to feel like your entire life is a fucking lie?”

your voice cracks on the last word, and you falter, your shoulders trembling as the weight of it all comes crashing down.

you sink into the chair, burying your face in your hands. the sobs come, harsh and unrelenting, ripping through you like a storm.

“why?” you whisper, your voice muffled but desperate. “why the fuck didn’t you tell me? why would you let me find out like this?”

sehun steps closer, his expression conflicted. he hesitates, and you feel the weight of his gaze, but you can’t look at him.

“i thought…” he starts, then stops, running a hand through his hair. “i thought you deserved the truth. even if i'm your enemy and even if it hurts.”

you laugh bitterly, wiping at your face. “well, congratulations. it fucking hurts. you've defeated me.”

he sighs, leaning against the desk, watching you like he doesn’t know what to say.

you don’t wait for him to figure it out. you stand, your legs shaky but determined, and head for the door.

“wait—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice hollow now. “just don’t.”

and with that, you’re gone, leaving him and his half-formed apologies behind.

-----

the house is unnervingly quiet when sana steps inside, calling out, “hey? you here?” her voice echoes faintly in the stillness. it wasn’t like them to leave without saying anything.

she looks around, her gaze darting to the empty couch and the untouched pile of toys in the corner. she frowns. it was rare for the place to feel this lifeless, and a strange unease creeps in.

“they better not have forgotten we had plans,” she mutters under her breath, slipping off her shoes.

she’d come over to hang out, and return something she borrowed, something you had been frantically searching for last week. she’d laughed about their scatterbrained tendencies at the time, but now, standing in the oddly quiet house, the humor felt distant.

her gaze catches on the faint glow coming from the slightly ajar office door. they never leave their office like that.

curiosity gets the better of her. “are you in there?” she calls, stepping closer.

the desk is a mess—papers scattered, a mug half-empty, and the laptop on but unattended. her eyes land on the screen. a downloaded video file is open, frozen on the first frame.

she reaches out, brushing the mouse to wake the screen fully. the video stutters to life, and her breath catches as the image sharpens.

mina.

with him.

sana freezes, her stomach plummeting as the scene unfolds before her. her heartbeat thunders in her ears, and she stumbles back a step, the chair bumping against her leg.

“no,” she whispers, her voice shaking.

her phone is in her hand before she realizes it, dialing their number with trembling fingers. it rings, and rings, and then cuts to voicemail. she curses softly, trying again.

still nothing.

panic surges. sana presses a hand to her forehead, pacing the small space. she glances at the screen again, her chest tightening painfully at the implications.

thinking quickly, she scrolls through her contacts and dials mina instead. the line barely connects before mina answers, her tone calm, composed, and unaware. “sana? what’s wrong?”

“where are you?” sana’s voice is sharp, trembling with urgency.

“what?” mina sounds taken aback. “what are you—”

“where are you.” sana cuts her off, her voice rising.

mina pauses, clearly unsettled. “at myoui residence. why? what’s goin—”

but sana doesn’t wait to hear more. all she can think is that you're probably with mina. she hangs up mid-sentence, shoving her phone into her pocket as she storms out of the house.

her hands tighten around the steering wheel as she speeds toward the myoui residence, her mind racing with every possible scenario. the image of the video lingers, vivid and damning.

“damn it, mina.” she mutters under her breath, the weight of what she’s just seen pressing down on her chest.

-----

you could feel the anger seeping into every inch of your body as you drove to the myoui residence. the tight grip on the steering wheel, the pounding in your chest, the way your pulse seemed to quicken with each passing second—it was all too much. you were trying to keep it together, trying to maintain some kind of calm, but every thought of what had been happening—the lies, the betrayal—pushed you closer to snapping.

when you finally pulled into the driveway, your fingers still gripping the wheel like you might break it, you took a deep breath. calm. you had to be calm. but you knew that as soon as you stepped out of the car, it was all over.

you walked up to the garden, taking slow, deliberate steps, trying to compose yourself, but it didn’t help. your eyes immediately landed on the scene before you—mina, sitting there, too damn composed as always, and bambam, joking with momo and laughing like nothing in the world mattered. momo was playing with hiro, and there it was. that was the moment.

your heart pounded in your ears. they were here. he was here. everything you had been holding back was threatening to break.

you took one more deep breath, tightening your jaw as you walked over to the butler. “take hiro inside. now.”

the butler didn’t ask questions. he just nodded, understanding the tension in the air. within moments, he had hiro in his arms, retreating inside the house, leaving you alone with them.

suddenly, rushed footsteps entered the garden but you paid no attention.

sana’s voice broke through the air then, frantic and high-pitched, practically running as she rushed toward you, her face a mask of panic. “yah! are you okay?” she asked, her hands reaching for you, trying to make sense of what was happening.

but you couldn’t even look at her, not with the way your rage was bubbling up inside you.

mina, watching from her spot, saw right through it. for the first time, she was confused. her calm, collected expression never wavered, but you could feel the tension crackling between you two.

“what’s going on?” mina asked, her voice deceptively soft, like she hadn’t just thrown you into this mess.

before you could answer, bambam stood up, still smiling like a damn idiot. the sight of him made your blood run cold. it was the last straw. you didn’t think, didn’t plan, didn’t care. you moved faster than anyone could stop you, rushing at bambam and slamming your fist into his face.

the first hit landed with a sickening crunch, his head jerking back. he barely had time to react before you hit him again, and again, your fists connecting with his face,—each blow fueled by the seething anger you could no longer control.

“you think you can just come in here like this? like you’ve done nothing wrong?” you spat, throwing another punch, this one aimed at his nose. your knuckles cracked against his bone, the sickening pop of bone ringing in your ears.

bambam swung back, his fist connecting with your lips, the pain sharp and instant. blood dripped from your busted lip, but you didn’t care. you kept going.

mina tried to step in, reaching for your arm, but you shoved her off with a violent force that sent her stumbling backward. her shock and confusion were clear, but it didn’t matter. not right now.

“stop! what are you doing!?” momo's voice cut through the chaos, frantic, as she rushed forward, hands gripping your arm in a desperate attempt to pull you away. but you shrugged her off with a force so brutal that she nearly lost her balance.

sana stood frozen, her face pale, eyes wide with fear. she tried to say something, to call out, but you were too far gone.

it wasn’t until your fists slowed, your breath heavy and ragged, that you finally pulled back. bambam was on the ground now, panting, bloodied, and dazed. you stood over him for a moment, chest heaving as you wiped your lip with the back of your hand, smearing more blood across your face.

then you turned your eyes on mina, and the anger was so intense, so palpable, that it felt like the air itself was burning.

you turn to mina then, your eyes dark and furious. your lip is split, but you don’t care. you pull out the USB from my pocket, the one that’s going to show her exactly how far this shit’s gone, and you throw it at her with everything you've got. the impact is sharp, and she flinches as it hits her chest.

“figure this shit out,” you muttered, your voice low and threatening.

momo stood there, shocked, unsure of what to do as she knelt beside bambam, checking on him, her face a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

you took one last look at mina, but she didn’t move, didn’t try to comfort you like she always did.

instead, you turned your gaze to sana, who was still standing off to the side, clearly terrified, but she was the one you let approach you. she hesitated, but only for a second, before stepping closer, reaching out with caution.

mina’s gaze flickered between you and sana, and for the first time, she seemed to understand. she didn’t move.

you stepped back from sana’s touch, but you let her get closer. because it was never going to be mina. not now.

-----

you turn around, throwing the wedding ring down the concrete floor, but before you could even get out of the garden, you heard her voice.

“wait!” mina’s voice cracked through the air, sharp with panic. “please, what happened!?”

but you didn’t stop. you didn’t even look back. you couldn’t.

you knew she was standing there, her hand reaching out, but you couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her have this.

and then, you heard the sound of footsteps. someone running, frantic, close behind you.

it was sana.

“hey—hey!” she called out, her voice trembling. you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. but she didn’t hesitate. she came after you, her steps faster, more urgent than mina’s ever could be.

you didn’t care. you didn’t want anyone. you didn’t want to feel this anymore.

you reached the outside, silently cursing at how giant this place was when you just wanted to get to your car, soon sana was there, standing in front of you, out of breath. “please,” she begged, voice cracking. “let me in. just—just stop.”

but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t stop. not until—

you broke.

it happened all at once. all that control, all that anger, every piece of you that had been holding it in for so long just collapsed in on itself. your chest tightened, and the tears you’d been fighting so hard to keep back came pouring out. sobs wracked your body, violent and raw, like you couldn’t breathe.

sana didn’t say anything. she just wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close as you fell apart in her embrace. it wasn’t like the hugs you’d had before, not with her, not with anyone. this was different. this was you—shattering—and sana was there, holding you together with everything she had.

"i can't do this anymore," you choked out between sobs, your hands clutching at her as if she were the only thing keeping you from falling completely apart. “she—she’s been lying to me. she’s been cheating. i—I saw it. i—saw it, sana."

her hands were trembling as she held you, and you could feel her own breath hitch in her throat, like she was trying not to cry with you. she didn’t say anything at first. she just let you break.

but you needed to get it out. needed someone to hear it.

“she hurt me, sana. she did it—and she doesn’t care. did i even fucking matter?” your voice broke, and you couldn’t keep going without falling deeper. “i’ve been so fucking stupid. i thought—i thought maybe she cared, but—fuck, i—i thought she was mine.”

the words burned your throat as you cried harder, a deep, aching sob that felt like it was ripping you open. sana didn’t let go. she held you tighter, her arms around you like a lifeline. but even that wasn’t enough. nothing was enough to fix this.

you didn’t know how long you stood there, sobbing in her arms, but when you finally pulled back, your face was soaked with tears, your lip still bleeding from the fight, your chest heavy with emotion.

sana looked at you, her face pale, eyes wide, but she wasn’t scared. she wasn’t pulling away. she didn’t look at you like mina did. sana saw you—really saw you. and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel alone.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “i’m sorry for being like this, for—for everything.”

sana’s eyes softened. her hands gently cupped your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears, the blood. she didn’t say anything for a long moment, but when she finally did, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“you don’t have to be sorry,” she said, her voice cracking, like she was holding back just as much as you were. “you don’t have to carry this alone.”

and in that moment, for just a second, you felt something. something close to hope. because sana—sana—was the only one who didn’t look at you like you were broken. like you were something to fix.

you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely, letting yourself feel it all—the hurt, the loss, the betrayal—and in her arms, for the first time in a long time, you finally felt like it was okay to fall apart.

------

the bar was a haze of dim lights and murmured conversations, but to you, it was just noise. you were slumped over the counter, swirling the amber liquid in your glass like it held the answers to every question you didn’t dare ask.

“another,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse. the bartender hesitated but poured anyway, his eyes flickering with concern.

your phone buzzed on the counter, her name lighting up the screen. mina.

you stared at it, the weight of her name pressing down on your chest until it hurt. when it stopped ringing, you exhaled shakily and knocked back your drink.

“you look like you’ve been through hell,” a voice chimed beside you.

you turned sluggishly, eyes landing on a woman with a bunny smile and a glint in her eyes.

“you don’t know the half of it,” you muttered.

she extended a hand, her confidence cutting through the haze. “nayeon.”

you blinked at her hand, then shook it half-heartedly. “nice to meet you, nayeon.”

“your turn,” she said, leaning on the counter. “what’s your name?”

you hesitated, the weight of the question heavier than it should’ve been. finally, you gave it, your voice quiet.

“so,” she said, resting her chin in her hand, “what’s got you looking like the world’s most tragic main character?”

you barked a laugh, hollow and bitter. “life. that’s all.”

“well, lucky for you,” she said with a playful grin, “i’m excellent at making people forget their problems.”

her words hung in the air, an unspoken offer. and for a moment, just a moment, you considered it.

but then you saw her—mina, not here, but in your mind. the way she looked at you when she thought you weren’t watching. the way she whispered your name like it was something sacred. and then the memory twisted, her face replaced by that night. her betrayal. her lies.

“thanks,” you said, your voice cracking, “but no.”

“no?” nayeon echoed, clearly surprised.

“i have a wife,” you said, and the words felt like a knife to your chest. “even if she doesn’t deserve it, i made a vow.”

nayeon’s smile faltered, and she nodded slowly. “you’re a good one,” she said softly. “even when it hurts.”

"for better, for worse" when she left, the silence was deafening.

“you’re a goddamn mess,” a familiar voice broke through, sharp and cutting.

you didn’t need to look to know who it was. “go away, sana.”

“not a chance,” she said, sliding onto the stool beside you. “do you have any idea how many times i’ve had to drag your sorry ass out of here?”

“too many?” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

“exactly,” she snapped.

you sighed, the weight of her words crushing you. “what do you want me to say, sana? that i’m fine? because i’m not.”

“i don’t want you to say anything,” she said, her voice softer now. “i just want you to stop destroying yourself.”

you laughed bitterly. “you don’t get it. you don’t know what it feels like to love someone so much it physically hurts. to have that love shattered.”

“stop talking nonsense,” she said, her tone steady. “i do know what it looks like when someone’s drowning.”

her words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

“come on,” she said, standing and offering you her hand. “let’s get you out of here.”

you stared at her hand, your vision blurring. and for the first time in a long time, you let someone pull you out of the darkness.

outside, the night air was cold and biting, but it felt almost cleansing.

“you don’t have to do this,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“do what?” she asked, glancing at you.

“be the one to save me.”

she stopped walking, turning to face you. “i’m not trying to save you,” she said quietly. “i’m just trying to remind you that you’re worth saving.”

"doesn't make sense." you mumble sassily as you let her dragged you chuckling slightly at her offended expression.

but as her words sank in, you felt something shift—just a little, but enough to make you believe it might be true— but, ofcourse you're too stubborn.

-----

the office was too quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside, muffled by the walls of glass that once made her feel untouchable. myoui mina sat in the dim light of her desk lamp, her hands trembling as she stared at the photograph in her hands. your smile, so bright and genuine, next to hers, a practiced elegance she could barely recognize now. and in the corner, hiro, beaming in a way only innocence could bring.

the frame was cracked, the glass splintered across your face. she hadn’t meant to drop it, but now it felt fitting. she set it down gently, her fingertips lingering on the jagged edge of the frame.

the myoui name had always stood for power, poise, and perfection. mina embodied it effortlessly—every step, every glance calculated, every word weighed with precision. she was untouchable, a pillar of composure even under the harshest scrutiny.

but tonight, myoui mina was crumbling.

“i ruined it,” she whispered, her voice raw. it wasn’t just a statement; it was a confession, one she’d been too proud to make aloud until now.

her breath hitched, her chest tightening as the memory clawed its way back to her. she hated bambam for pushing her, for planting the seed of insecurity she thought she’d outgrown. his words still echoed in her mind from that night—dripping with something she mistook for comfort, laced with just enough poison to make her falter.

"you deserve better than this," he had said, his hand brushing against hers. "they're way too busy with work, what if they have someone else too?"

she hated herself more for listening, for letting his words crawl under her skin and fester until they became louder than your love.

her fist slammed against the desk, papers scattering. “stupid,” she spat, the word aimed at herself. “so fucking stupid.”

her sobs started low, breaking through the practiced calm she always carried. she glance at the picture frame reaching for it as she slid off the chair, her knees hitting the hardwood floor with a dull thud. her hands clutched the picture frame at her chest, as if she could tear out the guilt that was choking her.

she sat on the cold floor of her office, the world she had meticulously built feeling like it was closing in on her. her pristine dress, usually a symbol of her unshakable authority, was rumpled, stained with tears. her hair, always styled to perfection, clung to her damp face.

"you loved me," she cried, her voice cracking. "you loved me, and i... i threw it away. for what? for what?"

the room spun, the weight of her actions crushing her. she thought of your face, the way it looked the last time you saw her—betrayed, disappointed, as if the very sight of her was a burden. she had done that. myoui mina— the epitome of coldness had turned her warm love into resentment, warmth into coldness.

“why did i listen to him?” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "why wasn’t i enough?"

she tried to steady herself, but the weight of it all pressed her back down. she clutched the frame to her chest, the broken glass cutting into her palm. the pain was sharp, and droplets of blood started to drip down her hand, but it was nothing compared to the ache that consumed her.

she had been the picture of grace, of strength. yet here she was, on the floor, pleading to a god she didn’t even believe in.

“please,” she cried, her voice hoarse. “please... let me fix this. i’ll do anything. anything.”

she crawled to the edge of her desk, her bloody fingers fumbling for her phone. the screen lit up, your picture staring back at her. she dialed a number she hadn’t used in years, her voice shaking as the call connected.

"it’s me," she said, barely above a whisper.

"i need you to... take care of something. i don't care how. i'll give you that damn company if you want to."

-----

it was late, and the silence of the room was suffocating, broken only by the occasional clink of ice in sana’s glass. she sat across from you, her playful demeanor dulled to something sharper, something simmering beneath the surface. you were frustrated, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a vice, and sana—sana of all people—was here trying to tell you how to feel.

“you wouldn’t understand,” you snapped, pacing the room. “you don’t know what it’s like.”

she stiffened, her lips thinning as her grip tightened on the glass. “don’t i?” she said quietly, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and something else—hurt, maybe.

you glanced at her, frowning. sana rarely looked anything other than confident, but now her eyes were glassy, her jaw tight.

“remember when i resented you?” she asked, the words coming out clipped, like they were dragged from some deep, hidden place.

you blinked, confused. “yeah, i remember. you never said why, though.”

she laughed bitterly, setting her glass down with a sharp clink. “because i didn’t want to admit it. not to myself, and definitely not to you.”

“admit what?”

her gaze met yours, steady and unflinching now. “that i liked bambam. and bambam—he liked mina.”

the words hit like a small crack in the foundation of your understanding. “...what?”

sana leaned back, crossing her arms. “since we were kids. he was always looking at her like she hung the moon, and she—” her voice broke slightly before she caught herself. “she treated him like he was her little brother. never gave him a chance. but that didn’t matter to him. and i was always in her shadow.”

“why resent me, then?” you asked, still grappling with the revelation. “i couldn’t control that.”

she hesitated, her bravado faltering. “because i thought—i thought you’d be just like her. like you’d walk in, marry her, and look down on me too. like you’d make everything worse.”

you stared at her, the sharp edges of your frustration softening as you watched her struggle to keep her composure. “sana...”

“i know—,” she interrupted, her voice softening. “back then, i was insecure. jealous. i was convinced you were going to ruin everything just by existing.”

you let out a dry laugh, running a hand through your hair. “sana, if i could’ve ruined everything by existing, i’d have done it years ago.”

she snorted despite herself, the tension breaking slightly. “okay, fair. but still... i hated you for all the wrong reasons. and when bambam and mina—when i saw that video... it felt like it was happening all over again.”

you looked at her, and for the first time, you didn’t see the bright, confident sana everyone else saw. you saw someone who’d been carrying a weight for far too long.

“i get it now,” you said quietly. “you don’t hate me. you hated what i made you feel about yourself.”

she nodded, her expression unreadable. “yeah. and i hated how easy it was for you to just... fit in. like you belonged here more than i ever did.”

“sana,” you said, leaning forward slightly. “you belong here. more than i do.”

she blinked, startled by your honesty. “you’re just saying that because you feel bad.”

“no, i’m saying it because it’s true,” you replied, managing a faint smile. “and because if you don’t, who’s going to annoy me into staying sane?”

she finally laughed, the sound breaking through the heaviness in the air. “you’re such a sap when you’re exhausted.”

“and you’re still annoying,” you shot back, but there was no bite to it.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you just sat there, two people who’d been at odds for so long finally finding common ground.

“thanks,” she said quietly, after a long pause. “for not being the person i thought you were.”

you shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “anytime.”

the silence that followed wasn’t heavy this time. it was almost... peaceful.

-----

the rain batters down relentlessly as mina steps out of her sleek black car, her stilettos sinking slightly into the muddy ground. she’s dressed in a pristine, tailored coat, the sharp lines of her outfit untouched by the disarray she feels inside. her hair, always perfectly styled, now clings to her face, the rain smudging her usually flawless makeup. it’s a picture of elegance—on any other day, she’d look untouchable.

but today, she looks ruined.

her legs feel like lead as she climbs the steps to sana’s door. her chest heaves with the weight of a hundred unspoken words, the cold rain doing nothing to numb the fire of regret burning in her lungs.

she knocks once, twice, and then her fist pounds against the wood, her desperation bleeding through. the polished, composed woman the world knows as myoui mina is nowhere to be found.

when sana opens the door, her breath catches—not because mina is standing there, but because of how she’s standing there. the regal heiress, who has never known hunger, never tasted real rejection, is utterly wrecked. her soaked clothes cling to her trembling frame, the harsh rain accentuating the cracks in her usually impeccable facade.

“sana,” mina rasps, her voice raw and trembling. “please. tell me where they are.”

“what the hell are you doing here?” sana asks, her tone sharp, though her eyes flicker with unease. she’s never seen mina like this—not even close.

mina steps forward, her knees buckling slightly, and without warning, she collapses to the ground. she doesn’t care that the expensive fabric of her coat is now caked in dirt. her head bows low, her hands pressed together like she’s offering her soul.

“i need to see them,” mina whispers, her voice cracking. “please. tell me where they are. i’ll do anything.”

sana flinches. this is not the mina she knows. this is not the woman who moves through life untouchable, who always has the upper hand.

“get up,” sana snaps, trying to steel herself against the flood of emotions threatening to pull her under.

mina shakes her head violently, her wet hair whipping against her face. “no. not until you tell me.”

“you’re making a fool of yourself,” sana says, though her voice wavers. “look at you. this isn’t you.”

“don’t you think i know that?” mina cries, her voice rising as her composure shatters. “do you think i care? i’d give up everything—everything, sana—if it means i can fix this. please, just… just tell me they’re okay. tell me they don’t hate me.”

sana’s lips press into a thin line, her jaw tight. she looks away, unable to bear the sight of mina begging like this.

mina’s knees buckle slightly, but she forces herself to stay upright. “i was scared, sana,” she says, her voice trembling. “i was scared of how much they mattered to me. i thought… i thought if i sabotaged it first, it wouldn’t hurt as much if they ever left. but i was wrong.”

“no shit,” sana mutters, crossing her arms.

“i destroyed everything,” mina continues, tears streaming down her face, indistinguishable from the rain. “but i can’t just give up. i can’t let this be the end.”

sana looks away, her lips pressed into a thin line. the sight of mina—always so composed, so untouchable—reduced to this mess of tears and desperation is unsettling.

“why are you even telling me this?” sana asks, her voice softer now, though her expression remains guarded.

mina takes a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping. “because you’re the only one who knows where they might be. and because…” she hesitates, her voice breaking. “because i need someone to tell me if it’s even worth trying anymore.”

sana’s jaw clenches, her hands curling into fists. she hates this—hates seeing mina, drenched and desperate, breaking apart in front of her.

“you’re pathetic,” sana says, her tone biting. “you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter your whole life, and now, when it all comes crashing down, you can’t even face it.”

mina nods, her tears falling harder. “i am pathetic,” she whispers. “i know that. but they’re everything to me, sana. they’re the only thing that’s ever made me feel…” she trails off, struggling to find the words. “like i could be more than what people expect me to be.”

sana exhales slowly, her expression softening despite herself. “they loved you, mina,” she says quietly. “probably more than you deserved. and you threw that away.”

mina lets out a broken sob, sinking to her knees on the wet porch. her hands press against the ground, her head bowed as she cries. “i know,” she whispers. “but please… please… just tell me where they are.”

sana hesitates, her heart twisting at the sight. this wasn’t the mina she knew—the cold, calculating heiress. this was someone raw and human, stripped of all pretense.

“even if i did,” sana says softly, her voice laced with sorrow, “what makes you think they’d want to see you like this?”

mina looks up at her, her face a portrait of anguish. “i don’t know,” she admits. “but i have to try. because if i don’t…” her voice cracks, and she presses a hand to her chest. “i’ll never forgive myself.”

sana stares at her, arms crossed tightly, her face a mask of disbelief and guarded pity. “you think crying in the rain is going to fix this? you think they’ll just forget what you did?”

mina shakes her head violently, droplets flying from her soaked hair. “no,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rain. “i don’t expect forgiveness. i don’t… i don’t deserve it.” her voice breaks, her shoulders trembling as she forces herself to continue. “but i need them to know… it wasn’t because i didn’t love them.”

sana’s expression hardens. “and that makes it better? what were you thinking, mina? how could you do something like that to someone who gave you everything?”

mina raises her head, her tear-streaked face a mixture of anguish and raw vulnerability. “i was scared,” she admits, her voice shaking. “i didn’t know how to love them the way they deserved. i didn’t know how to let myself be loved. do you know what it’s like to grow up in a world where every connection is transactional? where every ‘i love you’ comes with strings attached?”

sana’s jaw tightens, her silence an unspoken acknowledgment of the truth in mina’s words.

“they were different,” mina continues, her voice rising with desperation. “they saw me, not my name, not my title. just… me. and that terrified me. because if they left—if i ever lost them—it would destroy me.”

she presses a hand to her chest, the pain almost suffocating. “so i did what i thought i had to do. i distanced myself. i… i made a mistake, a horrible, unforgivable mistake, because i thought it would hurt less if they hated me first. but it doesn’t. it doesn’t hurt less, sana. it hurts more than i ever thought possible.”

sana looks away, her throat tight as she struggles to hold onto her anger. “you say all this now, but what about then? what about when you made that choice?”

mina bows her head, her tears falling freely. “i wasn’t thinking. i was selfish and scared and so, so stupid. i didn’t think about what it would do to them, to us. all i could think about was how much it would hurt if i let myself love them completely and they left me.”

her voice breaks, and she collapses further onto the ground, her hands gripping the wet earth. “but they didn’t leave, sana. they stayed. they gave me everything. and now… now i’ve lost the one thing that made me feel alive, and it’s my fault. it’s all my fault.”

sana’s chest tightens at the sight of mina—the composed, untouchable heiress—reduced to this trembling, broken figure. this wasn’t the mina she knew. this was someone raw and desperate, someone who had finally realized the weight of her own actions.

“you’re a mess,” sana says quietly, her voice tinged with both anger and pity. “you always thought you were untouchable, didn’t you? but look at you now. you’ve destroyed yourself for them.”

mina nods, her sobs choking her words. “i have,” she whispers. “and i’d do it a thousand times over if it meant they’d hear me, if it meant they’d give me a chance to make this right.”

sana sighs, running a hand through her hair. “you can’t just beg your way out of this, mina. they’re not some business deal you can negotiate. this is their heart, their trust. and you shattered it.”

“i know,” mina cries. “i know i can’t fix this overnight. but sana, please… tell me where they are. tell me what to do. i’ll give up everything—my name, my fortune, all of it—if it means i can have them back. i’ll spend the rest of my life proving to them that they’re my everything.”

sana’s hands clench into fists, her own emotions warring within her. “you want my advice?” she says after a long silence. “start by figuring out why you deserve a second chance. because right now, mina, i don’t think you do.”

sana stares at her for a long moment, her emotions a storm of anger, pity, and something she can’t quite place.

sana doesn’t respond immediately. she turns her head, her gaze fixed on the rain streaking down. when she speaks again, her voice is barely above a whisper.

“you’re pathetic, mina.”

mina doesn’t argue. she just kneels there, her head bowed, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her like a physical force.

“but they love you,” sana adds, almost reluctantly. “for some reason, they love you. so maybe… maybe you still have a chance.”

mina looks up at her, hope flickering in her tear-streaked eyes. “do you think so?” she whispers.

“don’t ask me,” sana says, turning away. “ask them.”

with that, sana steps back and closes the door, leaving mina alone in the rain.

mina collapses completely, her forehead pressing against the cold, wet ground. her sobs echo into the storm, a haunting sound of grief and regret. this wasn’t just about losing you—it was about losing the one chance she had at being more than the hollow shell her upbringing had created. and it was her fault. all her fault.

-----

the buzz of your phone stirred you from a restless sleep. you squinted at the clock on your nightstand—2:34 a.m.—and groaned. dragging your hand across your face, you grabbed the phone, your voice heavy with fatigue.

"who is it?"

a small, hesitant voice came through. "it's me."

you froze, the weariness in your bones suddenly eclipsed by a familiar ache. "mina?"

"yeah," she murmured, almost like she didn’t expect you to pick up. "sorry for calling so late. i know you’re... probably tired."

"what do you want?" you asked, your voice flat, as you sank back into the bed.

there was a pause, and for a moment you thought she’d hung up. then, softly, she said, "we’re going back to myoui town. it’s my mom’s birthday next week."

you rubbed your temples, exhaling slowly. "okay?"

"hiro’s been crying," she continued, her words gentle, deliberate. "he misses you, but i thought it’d be nice for him. and for my mom. she... she really missed you too, you know."

"yeah, well," you said, cutting her off, "tell her that that maybe she shouldn't."

"that’s not—," she said quickly, her voice breaking slightly. "you’ve always been good to us of course she will..." her words trailed off, and the silence that followed felt like a weight pressing down on your chest.

"why are you telling me this, mina?" you asked, shifting under the covers. "you don’t need my permission to go."

"i know," she said softly. "but i thought you’d want to know. about hiro, at least. and..." she hesitated, her voice trembling. "i just wanted to check on you."

"i’m fine," you said, though the exhaustion in your voice betrayed you.

"are you?" she asked, the regret heavy in her tone. "i know i’m the last person you want to hear from, but i worry about you. i—" she stopped, taking a shaky breath. "i can’t stop thinking about... you."

you closed your eyes, the familiar ache creeping back in. "don’t do this right now, mina."

"i’m sorry," she whispered. "i just... i wanted you to know. and i wanted to say thank you. for picking up. for still being good to hiro, even when you hate me."

you stayed quiet, too tired to argue, too drained to tell her how wrong she was. you didn’t hate her—not entirely. but you couldn’t forgive her either. not yet.

"i hope you’re okay," she said after a moment, her voice so small it made your chest tighten. "i hope... one day, we’ll be okay."

"i—" the words caught in your throat, and you clenched your jaw, swallowing hard. you didn’t know what you wanted to say, or if you even had the right to say anything at all.

you can hear hiro’s laughter echo faintly through the phone, and you closed your eyes, the sound twisting the knife deeper. you could picture him there, carefree and happy, unaware of the mess surrounding him.

"take care of him," you said finally, your voice strained. "just... make sure he’s okay."

"i always do," mina replied, and there was a weight to her words that made you ache even more.

the line went quiet after that, neither of you willing to hang up but both too drained to say anything else. eventually, you ended the call, dropping the phone onto the other side of the bed and burying your face in your pillow.

the thought of them leaving—of her leaving—was a sharp reminder of just how much had slipped through your fingers. and yet, all you could do was sit there, alone in the darkness, trying to convince yourself that it didn’t matter.

but it did. fuck, it did.

-----

mina adjusted hiro’s jacket for the third time, her fingers tugging gently at the fabric to make sure it fit snugly against the chill in the air. the little boy was more interested in the blossoms overhead, his tiny hands reaching skyward as they walked through the old town.

“you like that, hm?” she murmured, her voice soft, almost lost in the gentle breeze. hiro giggled in response, his face lighting up with pure delight.

she smiled, despite herself.

it was quieter here than in the city, the hum of life replaced with the rustle of leaves and the faint sound of a bell in the distance. her parents had always said this place felt timeless, and for the first time, mina felt it too.

but that weight in her chest—the one that had settled there ever since you’d stopped coming home—it hadn’t eased.

hiro babbled something incoherent, his chubby little hand pointing toward a cluster of vibrant pink blossoms hanging low on a branch. mina crouched down, lifting him in her arms to bring him closer.

“careful,” she said, her tone laced with a tenderness that had become second nature with him. he grabbed at a petal, his grip clumsy but enthusiastic.

she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket but ignored it for now. instead, she reached for the camera app, snapping a picture of hiro against the backdrop of the blossoms.

he looked so much like you in moments like this.

her heart clenched as she stared at the screen.

after a moment’s hesitation, she opened your chat. the thread was mostly one-sided these days—updates on hiro, little notes about his milestones, reminders that she was trying.

trying to keep you tethered. trying to remind you there was still a place for you here.

she attached the photo and typed:

“hiro loves the blossoms. he’s so curious about everything here. thought you’d want to see this.”

her thumb hovered over the send button. for a split second, she thought about deleting it. but she hit send before she could think too hard.

hiro wriggled in her arms, and she adjusted her grip, letting him rest his head against her shoulder. she started walking again, her heels clicking softly against the cobblestone path.

her phone buzzed, and she fumbled to unlock it, her breath hitching when she saw your reply.

“looks good. bet hiro’s loving it. you look…”

her heart skipped, her thumb scrolling slowly.

“miss you.”

she froze.

the words blurred slightly as her eyes filled with an emotion she didn’t want to name.

you miss me? after everything? after i broke us?

hiro babbled again, drawing her out of her spiraling thoughts. she kissed the top of his head, her lips brushing against his soft hair.

with trembling fingers, she replied:

“we miss you too.”

it felt like a small step.

a tentative bridge.

her chest ached as she added another message:

“mom’s birthday is soon. she’s been asking about you.”

she slipped her phone back into her pocket, her gaze lifting to the blossoms again. they were beautiful, fleeting.

please come back to us, she thought, her arms tightening protectively around hiro.

as they reached the edge of the path, she glanced at her phone once more, hoping, praying.

when your reply came, she exhaled shakily.

heavily disappointed she let herself move slowly glancing at hiro sadly while pointing at some falling leaves seeing hiro babble excitedly made her heart clench and she let herself drown in her thoughts.

-----

you sit at your desk, fingers aimlessly scrolling through the same set of documents you’ve been staring at for hours. the work isn’t hard, but the focus? yeah, that’s another story.

your eyes flicker to the family photo on the corner of your desk. it’s the one mina insisted on framing—a candid shot of the three of you during a rare moment of peace. hiro’s baby grin, your awkward smile, mina’s soft, rare laugh.

your chest tightens.

a soft buzz on your phone pulls your attention. it’s a picture from mina: her holding hiro in her arms, standing against a backdrop of vibrant cherry blossoms. hiro’s chubby little hand is reaching for a petal, his face lit up with curiosity. she’s smiling—soft, maternal, and glowing.

"hiro loves the blossoms. he’s so curious about everything here. thought you’d want to see this."

you stare at the screen longer than you mean to. a knot of emotions you don’t quite know how to unravel builds in your chest—annoyance, longing, maybe even something bordering on desperation.

you set the phone down, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. maybe it’s the way she looks so damn serene in that picture, like she hasn’t turned your world upside down a hundred times over.

or maybe it’s because it’s been too long. too long since you’ve felt her touch, heard her laugh, even fought with her properly.

before you realize it, your thumbs are moving.

“looks good. bet hiro’s loving it. you look…” you hesitate, then type, “beautiful.”

a pause. delete. rewrite.

“miss you.”

short, simple, but it feels like ripping your chest open. you hit send before you can second-guess it.

and the second it’s gone, you’re frozen.

what the hell did you just do?

you stare at your phone like it’s going to explode, the words glaring back at you as if mocking your moment of vulnerability. for a split second, you think about chucking the damn thing across the room, but then—what if she replies?

your hands are clammy, your heart’s racing, and suddenly your office feels ten degrees hotter. you pace back and forth, running a hand through your hair like it’s going to do anything to untangle the mess you’ve made in your head.

“what is wrong with me?” you mutter under your breath. “am i drunk? i’m at work! i haven’t even had a drink!”

you stop mid-step, gripping the back of your chair like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. your mind replays the text over and over, each loop digging deeper into your pride. miss you.

the audacity. the weakness.

you glance at the framed photo on your desk—the one of mina holding hiro on her hip, the both of them laughing under the sunlight. your chest tightens, and you groan, dragging your hands down your face.

“this is so stupid,” you hiss to no one in particular. “she’s probably laughing right now. probably showing her mom, ‘look at this idiot, still hung up on me.’”

but even as you say it, you know it’s not true. mina’s not like that. or, at least, she wasn’t.

you sit down heavily in your chair, glaring at your phone like it’s personally betrayed you.

god, why did i have to send that? why couldn’t i just say… nice blossoms? or cute kid? or nothing at all?

your phone buzzes, and you nearly fall out of your chair scrambling to grab it.

the notification lights up the screen:

“we miss you too.”

your breath catches.

it’s not much. not an apology, not an explanation, not even a promise. but it’s enough to make your shoulders sag, the knot in your chest loosening just a little.

you sit there for a moment, just staring at the message, letting it sink in.

and then another message pops up.

“mom’s birthday is soon. she’s been asking about you.”

you blink, reading it twice, three times, like the words are in a language you’re still trying to learn.

your thumb hovers over the keyboard.

“tell her advance happy birthday;”

you hit send, and this time, there’s no panic.

no pacing, no muttering, no spiraling.

just… quiet.

you sit back, exhaling slowly, staring at the photo again. maybe you’re weak for her. maybe you always will be.

you set the phone down and stare at the photo again. your thumb rubs over the edge of the frame absentmindedly.

you’d go.

maybe it’s for hiro. maybe it’s for mina. maybe, just maybe, it’s for yourself.

-----

the traditional myoui family estate in japan was alive with celebration, the grand hall filled with the soft clinking of glasses and the hum of polite laughter. mina stood near the entrance, perfectly poised as always, though her hands fidgeted slightly—a rare display of unease for someone so collected.

her mother’s sharp voice broke through her thoughts. “mina, where is your spouse? it’s my birthday, and yet they’re nowhere to be found.”

mina straightened her posture, masking her discomfort. “they’re busy with work,” she began, her tone measured but unconvincing. “something urgent came up—”

“work?” mrs. myoui interrupted, her lips pressing into a thin line. “on a day like this? unacceptable. i don’t understand? do they think work is more important than my birthday?"

before mina could stammer out another excuse, the double doors to the hall swung open, stealing everyone’s attention.

“apologies for the delay,” you announced, stepping in with a confident stride. a bouquet of lavish flowers in one hand and a beautifully wrapped gift box in the other, your presence immediately commanded the room.

mina’s breath caught, her carefully composed facade momentarily cracking.

“fashionably late as always,” mrs. myoui said, her disapproving tone softened by the glint of amusement in her eyes.

you bowed politely, offering the flowers to her. “only for the most important occasions, mrs. myoui. i hope these can make up for my tardiness.”

she chuckled, accepting the gifts. “you always know how to charm your way out of trouble.”

“it’s a skill i’ve perfected,” you quipped, your voice light. but as your gaze shifted to mina, the warmth in your tone faded, replaced by a distant professionalism. “myoui mina,” you greeted curtly, with a nod that felt colder than the winter breeze.

mina’s jaw tightened, but she forced a smile. “thank you for coming,” she said softly, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

you didn’t respond, turning back to her mother instead. “it’s an honor to celebrate such a special day with your family.”

as the evening wore on, you maintained a polite but distant demeanor, mingling with the guests and exchanging pleasantries. mina, meanwhile, found her attempts to approach you rebuffed at every turn. when she brushed her hand against yours while passing, you didn’t react. when she tried to make small talk about hiro, your answers were clipped and polite, but devoid of warmth.

from across the room, she watched as you charmed her family and the guests, her chest tightening with a mix of regret and longing. every time you glanced her way, it was with a composed indifference that stung more than outright hostility.

it wasn’t until later in the evening, as the festivities quieted down, that mina found herself standing alone near the balcony. she turned when she sensed you approaching, her heart leaping for a brief moment. but your focus wasn’t on her—it was on hiro, who was being carried by one of the family attendants.

you reached out, taking hiro into your arms with practiced ease. “hey, buddy,” you murmured, your voice softening as you cradled him close. mina watched, her throat tightening as she took in the sight of you and hiro together.

when your eyes finally met hers, there was a flicker of something—an unspoken tension, a shared history that neither of you could escape. but just as quickly, you turned your attention back to hiro.

as the evening progressed, the guests began to drift toward the dining hall, leaving mina and you momentarily alone on the balcony. the cool night air brushed against her skin, but it wasn’t the chill that made her shiver—it was the frigid distance you’d placed between the two of you all evening.

“you’re good with him,” mina said quietly, nodding toward hiro nestled in your arms, his tiny fingers clutching at your shirt as he drifted off to sleep.

you didn’t look at her. instead, you kept your gaze on hiro, gently adjusting the blanket around him. “he’s my son. it’s not exactly a choice.”

the words landed like a slap, and mina’s breath hitched. she took a step closer, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “i didn’t mean it like that,” she said softly. “i just… i wanted to thank you for coming. it means a lot to my family.”

finally, you turned to face her, your expression unreadable but your eyes sharp. “i didn’t come for your family, mina. i came for hiro. let’s not pretend otherwise.”

but it feels like a blatant lie with the way your jaw clenched almost disgusted at yourself for feeding yourself lies.

her composure faltered, and she bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the ground. “i know i’ve hurt you,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “but i’m trying—”

“trying to what?” you interrupted, your tone cutting but quiet enough not to wake hiro. “fix what you broke? erase what happened? you think showing up with a smile and a few kind words will make everything better?”

she flinched, visibly shrinking under the weight of your words. “i’m not asking you to forgive me overnight,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “but i miss you. i miss us. and i’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “missing someone doesn’t mean much when you’ve already proven how little you cared when it mattered.”

her eyes glistened, and for a moment, she looked utterly vulnerable—a stark contrast to the poised heiress the world knew her as. “that’s not true,” she said, her voice breaking. “you have no idea how much i—”

“don’t,” you said firmly, cutting her off. “don’t stand here and tell me how much you cared while i was the only one crying trying to pick up pieces of myself.”

mina’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes pleading as she stepped closer. “please,” she said, her voice cracking. “that's not— i've also—"

“good night, mina,” you said curtly, brushing past her as you carried hiro inside.

she stayed on the balcony, frozen in place, the weight of your words crushing her. she blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, but it was no use.

as the door clicked shut behind you, mina sank onto the balcony railing, the sound of the distant laughter and celebration inside only amplifying the silence that now surrounded her. she had always been so sure of herself, so in control—but tonight, she felt small, powerless, and utterly lost.

-----

the quiet streets of the traditional japanese town were bathed in soft moonlight, the air carrying the faint scent of blooming wisteria. myoui mina sat on the edge of a wooden bridge, a bottle of sake beside her, her poised demeanor long abandoned. she was disheveled, her elegant blouse slightly wrinkled, her usually sharp eyes glassy and red-rimmed.

in her hand, she held a small daisy, its delicate petals trembling between her fingers.

"they like me," she murmured, plucking a petal and letting it drift down into the stream below. her voice was tinged with mockery, a hollow laugh escaping her lips.

"they like me not." she tore the next petal with more force, the bitterness in her tone cutting through the stillness of the night.

hidden just beyond the bridge, you leaned against the corner of a nearby building, out of sight but close enough to hear every word. you’d stumbled upon her by accident during your aimless walk— aimless? or did you just see her leave the residence and was worried? no— it doesn't matter. you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

mina continued her ritual, her voice growing quieter with each petal. "they like me… they like me not…" her hands trembled, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she fought back the tears threatening to spill.

when she reached the final petal, she stared at it for a long moment.

"they like me," she whispered, her voice cracking. she gave a bitter, humorless laugh, tossing the petal into the water. "as if. they don’t even look at me anymore."

her laughter died, replaced by a shaky breath. "i don’t like them either," she muttered, the lie barely holding together. "i hate them."

she froze, the words hanging in the air like a broken promise. then, as if something deep inside her had shattered, her shoulders began to shake.

"i don't like them," she repeated, her voice breaking completely. "i love them. i love them so much."

her head dropped into her hands, and she began to sob openly, her elegant facade crumbling like a fragile mask. "i love them," she choked out, the admission spilling from her lips like a dam bursting. "and they hate me. they hate me, and i deserve it."

your heart ached at the sight of her, the woman who once seemed untouchable now falling apart before your eyes. you wanted to step forward, to say something, but your feet remained rooted to the ground.

mina’s sobs echoed in the quiet night, her vulnerability cutting through you in a way you hadn’t expected. but instead of approaching, you turned away, your chest tight with an unspoken heaviness.

you walked away slowly, your steps careful and silent, leaving her alone on the bridge. the image of her broken figure stayed with you, etched into your mind, and as much as you tried to push it aside, it lingered, a painful reminder of everything unresolved.

behind you, mina remained on the bridge, her cries fading into the stillness of the night, unaware that you had been there all along.

-----

the morning sun painted the myoui estate in warm hues, the tranquility of the traditional japanese town a stark contrast to the tension simmering beneath the surface. you wandered the garden aimlessly, still dressed in your rumpled pajamas, the cool breeze doing little to shake off your lingering exhaustion.

the faint sound of footsteps made you glance up, and there she was—myoui mina, beautiful as ever despite the shadows of sleeplessness beneath her eyes. her gaze locked onto yours, determined, though something fragile lingered behind it.

"we need to talk," she began, her voice even but strained.

you sighed, dragging a hand through your hair. "about what, mina? i don’t have the energy for this."

"we have an interview this afternoon," she said, stepping closer.

that caught you off guard. "an interview? for what? we’re not doing any gala or charity event."

"it’s about us," mina clarified, her words deliberate. "our marriage. how we fell in love."

your brow furrowed, and a humorless laugh escaped your lips. "are you kidding me? mina, we don’t need to answer any of that. it’s useless."

mina squared her shoulders, her voice gaining an edge. "it’s not useless. it’s about keeping your dignity. your name. your reputation."

you stared at her, incredulous. "my dignity?" you snapped, the fatigue giving way to anger. "you want me to sit there and talk about a marriage that doesn’t even exist? why don’t you do it, mina? you’re good at putting on a show."

her expression faltered, but she held her ground. "how can i?" she asked, her voice cracking despite her effort to keep it steady. "it’s for couples. they’ll know something’s wrong if you’re not there."

your frustration boiled over, your voice rising. "then tell them we’re fine! tell them we’re doing great, that we’re more in love than ever!" you stepped closer, your words sharp and cutting. "Lie, mina. You’re good at that too, aren’t you?"

her breath hitched, but she didn’t respond, her eyes searching yours desperately.

you took a step back, shaking your head.

"you’re my wife on paper, mina. not my responsibility."

the words hung in the air like a slap, the finality of them echoing between you. mina stood frozen, her composure cracking.

you didn’t wait for her reply—not that she had one. and as you walked away, the ache in your chest twisted, sharper than ever, because deep down, you knew:

it wasn’t her who had lost everything. it was you.

-----

end of part five.

a/n — i'm so sorry for this shitty chapter bruv it's my birthday and it's like 1:43AM, i've been drinking and i have a throbbing headache. I decided to rush this so i apologize deeply for any wrong doing because frankly i don't even remember what i wrote.

#kpop girls #mina imagines #mina x reader #myoui mina x reader #myoui mina #twice mina #twice sana #angst #cheating #bambam #hirai momo #twice mina x reader #sad shit #kino.

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qadmonster · 2 days ago

Text

Sorry, words!

I got rid of my photoshop and illustrator subscriptions which won't be missed and I can always sail the high seas for later if desired. I'm also lowering the monthly payments on a debt which has been doing a lot of damage over the last half a year.

I was able to get my rent in on time this month to avoid late fees thanks to generous ko-fi donations, but I hate relying on a life line like that. I'm just so grateful (like seriously beyond words full of gratitude) that there are some good willed people that really helped me out again. I still don't have any money left to do much else so it's rice and lentils until I get paid again. I have an upcoming dental procedure and I don't even want to think of how far back that's going to set me. My dentist is pretty chill, but still, another debt owed.

The world is a capitalist hellscape, I'm tired of being bled dry every month by EVERYTHING.

I'll try to get to the ko-fi doobles when I can. I'm taking on extra hours so I can buffer my paychecks a bit, so it might be a while. I'm very tired. Even though it might take me a while to get to it, please consider supporting me on ko-fi and leave a monster prompt

#there's no real easy way out of this but I'm trying to make the most of it #which I think is what is causing so much burnout and exhaustion #i wish i could draw for fun more #feels like it's just more work now

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dreadnoughtus101 · 2 days ago

Note

hiii!!! I saw you were taking requests so I am taking my chance

Reader being nekoma’s third year manager and daichi having a crush on her.

And seeing each other at the training camp

ofc Tanaka, noya and yamamoto act like they always do when they see a pretty manager

thanks!!!also love your work!

Aww I love this!!

How Pretty

Daichi Sawamura

_____________________________________________________________

Nekoma and Karasuno were having a practice match during training camp. You, being a first time manager over a sports club, awkwardly followed behind when your team walked into the Karasuno gym.

"Don't worry, I'm nervous too." Lev piped up, "I noticed you look a bit nervous.." He trailed off when you looked up at him. "Why would I be nervous?" You chuckled, playing it off. You looked at all of the boys on the Karasuno team, and took a deep breath. You were helping your team unpack their bags, setting out their water bottles, when suddenly two boys from the other team ran towards you, screaming inhocerantly.

You jumped, and they immediately bowed down on the floor, "We're so sorry for scaring you! Our names are Tanaka and Nishinoya, please forgive us!" They practically screamed. You looked around to see both teams staring at you in silence, before one boy walked over yelling at them. "You two, back off!" You were grateful for the rescue, and confused on what was happening.

The two boys stood up slowly and were looking at you with a glimmer in their eyes, before running off giggling. You looked at the boy who rescued you, expecting him to be just like his team mates. "I'm really sorry about them.." He paused, looking down at you. "They just don't know how to act when they see a pretty girl." He chuckled. Your eyes widened, unsure of what to say, before he added onto his sentence. "I'm Daichi, Karasunos captain."

"Ah," You nodded, "I'm Nekomas new manager." You saw his brown eyes gazing over you, taking in your features. He only smiled before they called everyone to practice and you sat on the bench with Kiyoko. "Apologies for the two." She said, looking at you. "They can be a bit much, but they mean well." Her voice was calm and low. You giggled, "Are they like that often?" Kiyoko nodded, smiling "They go after any girl they can see." You looked at them, watching the teams play. "Being a manager at first can be scary, but it's pretty rewarding to see them win after all the hard work they put in." She said, watching them with you. "Hey, Kiyoko-" You both looked at each other and you paused for a brief moment, "What about..Daichi?"

She looked at you for a moment, unsure of what you were asking, "What about him, y/n?" You weren't sure if she was the right person to ask, but you already started the conversation. "Is he like.. flirty..?" You tried to sound casual, unable to hide the edge in your voice. She laughed and shook her head, "I've never really seen him with anyone, why?" You shrugged, "Just asking."

When you turned back to face the court, you saw him staring at you. Unsure of what to make about it, you just gave him a small smile. It was hard to read what his intentions were, but you would rather assume he was just being overly friendly than anything else. The rest of the day was full of quick and short moments of eye contact and smiling at each other.

When leaving, he followed by your side, thanking you for helping out with everything and held the door open for you.

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

On the last day of camp, both teams had gotten together for a barbeque. You stuck next to Kiyoko, her being the only other girl you actually knew, surrounded by a ton of boys.

You both were sat at a bench eating your food, when Daichi suddenly sat next to you with his plate. "Hey y/n, it's been nice having you around." He looked at you, taking a bite of his food. You felt a blush warm your face, "Oh, thank you!" You stammered a bit, your eyes briefly meeting Kiyoko's, who was watching in what only appeared to be shock. "Could I get your number?" He said it calmly, as if it wasn't anything to be nervous about. You looked past him to see the two boys from the other day, Tanaka and Nishinoya, watching with their jaws dropped, holding two fully loaded plates in each hand. "Oh- uh- Yeah, of course."

You were sure your face was at least five different shades of red by now, while he was calm and collected, pulling out his phone and handing it to you. Your shaky fingers typing in your number, you heard what now sounded like a group of boys, giggling and shouting about you two. You saw Daichi shoot them all a dirty look and they quieted down. Handing his phone back, he gave you a big smile and thanked you before standing up and walking back to the group of boys from before.

You heard them all shouting and whooping, and saw Daichi do a fist pump in the air, laughing and high fiving them all.

"So clearly that was some sort of group effort.." Kiyoko said, breaking your trance. "

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

You guys had been texting the entire night, him being the one to make the first move. You liked his charm, the way he was the one to make the first move and be assertive yet calm about it all. It started with small talk, asking about why you chose to be a manager for Nekoma, and why you would even want to go to that school to begin with. You found it funny how much he slandered your school.

When the conversation had started to slow down, he got more bold. He started asking you things like if you had a boyfriend, what your type was, that sort of thing. You started to reciprocate his energy, mirroring his questions with the same curiosity. It wasn't until he asked you if you were free that Saturday, that you started to get nervous. You of course, told him no, which lead to him asking if he could take you out for dinner at a nice restaurant. You agreed, your curiosity piqued. He seemed like a gentleman with genuine intentions, why not?

He offered to pick you up, which you agreed to. The both of you went to bed that night with a smile on your faces, imagining how the weekend would go.

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

A few minutes before he was meant to be there, you looked in the mirror, flattening your dress out and checking your makeup for any imperfections, when you heard the knock you had been so expecting.

You opened the door to see Daichi in a white button up and black pants, holding a bouquet of roses to you. You saw a slight tinge of red to his face for the first time, as you giggled and thanked him for the flowers. Setting them in a vase, he stood with his hands in his pockets, admiring how beautiful you were.

He was sure to open all doors for you and let you go ahead of him. In the car, he had low music playing. "If you want to change it, I don't mind, this is just what was playing.." You had a small feeling that this was not "just was was playing" so you didn't, which gave him a small grin when you told him it was okay.

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

You sat at a booth, across from each other. You admired how fancy the place was, chandeliers everywhere and polished cutlery wrapped in white fabric.

"Daichi, this place is really nice.. Can I pay for my half?" He looked at you, almost offended. "C'mon, Y/n, do you know how long it took me to get this reservation? The least you could do is let me be a gentleman." He gave a goofy smile, putting on a half serious tone. You giggled, agreeing, even though you had the slightest bit of guilt in the back of your mind.

To say Daichi splurged on you was a bit of an understatement, he ordered an appetizer, encouraged you to get anything you wanted, and dessert. The entire date was filled with laughter and smiles, with him even reaching across the table and holding your hand while you both waited for dessert to come out.

When the check came out, he refused to let you look at it, let alone offer any sort of money to pay. He showed no second thought paying for it and even leaving a nice tip.

The car ride back was nice, he held your hand on your lap, his face stained a blush with a small grin. He occasionally glanced over to look at you, which you returned with a sweet smile.

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When he dropped you off at his house, you two stood on the porch in the doorway, holding hands.

"I had a really great time, Daichi.. Thank you." You looked up at him, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling. You leaned up to him, breath shaky. He inched closer, before finally landing a kiss on your lips. Wrapping your arms around his shoulder and his around your waist, you both felt that you could've stayed there forever.

He pulled back, looking into your eyes.

"I think I love you..y/n."

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leonastarry · 7 hours ago

Text

{ 3 } My baby. ✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭s.jinwoo x fem!reader

☆ I like the way my baby hold my waist lovingly.

One thing you noticed when you started dating Jinwoo was that he seemed to really like hugging your waist. Anytime you two were near each other, he would wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to him. Or when you two were out, he would wrap one arm around your waist possessively, declaring to everyone that you were his.

It's not that you feel uncomfortable or anything, on the contrary, you feel warm because of it. It shows that he is not afraid to show his love for you in front of everyone.

☆ I like the way my baby cherish me.

You are his precious treasure, the light that shines into his life. So he always tells himself to cherish you with all his heart.

Jinwoo is willing to give you the compliments that he thinks are the most beautiful. No matter what your appearance is, you are still the most beautiful person in his eyes. He is always grateful for your presence and appreciates everything you have done for him. And at times when you feel the saddest and most disappointed, he will always be there to remind you how wonderful you are in his eyes.

After all, for him, no presence is more precious than you.

☆ I like the way my baby pamper me even though I'm still a bit arrogant.

Not gonna lie, his pampering of you is so much that sometimes you act like a child.

Whatever you like, he will buy it for you. Whatever you want to eat, he will cook it for you. Wherever you want to go, he will take you and make sure you are always happy.

Sometimes you feel like he pampers you too much, you say you will become spoiled. He just smiles and kisses the corner of your eyes.

"I only have one girlfriend, why can't I spoil her?"

☆ I love the way you hold my hand, I love the way we face each other.

During some free time, you and he will sit and talk about what happened. Or just you talk, he will listen to everything. At that time, he will hold you and intertwine your fingers, holding tightly. If you are not too busy and eager to tell him what you find interesting, you will catch his gentle eyes looking at you attentively and passionately.

☆ I love the way my baby kiss me, and let me know that I'm very special.

Jinwoo loves kissing you. He thinks that even though it can't express all his feelings, it's a great way to show you how much he loves you. It could be a kiss on the cheek, the corner of the eye, the top of the head, or the forehead… Sometimes, he holds your hand and kisses your knuckles.

After each kiss, he will whisper sweet words into your ear. He always tries to show you how special you are to him and how his world wouldn't be complete without you.

He's not the type to open up easily, so if he says he loves you, he means it for the rest of his life. You are something he can't lose, something he needs to care about.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

After all, with all that you have been through, in the midst of a life full of dangers, you both understand that it is very difficult to find each other. Therefore, you both choose to cherish your lover in the way that you think is the most perfect. And perhaps, this love will never be broken no matter how much time passes.

......

Sitting on the soft grass and looking up at the starry sky, Jinwoo pulled you closer to him, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head and whispered in a loving and sincere voice.

"I love you in every universe."

English is not my first language, so the story can be not so good 😅😅

#sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo #sungjinwoo #dream.✧˖*°࿐#leona.star

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 1 day ago

Note

((Umm...... Lucifer did grab their rings 😅))

He had to make heaven think he was serious and that he wasn't going to be coming for Adam so it wouldn't be obvious, how could Adam seriously think he didn't matter to him?

Lucifer risked everything for him, he beat the shit out of an archangel for him! He was a little more focused on making sure they got the fuck out and didn't die.

He ran his hands down his face, he's so tired and he just wants to hold his fucking husband but he can't even have that.

Lucifer growled and hit his fists on his thighs only to hit something in his pocket: Ow!! The fuck is in there?

Angrily he shoved his hand in his pocket and he touched something small and smooth. Two somethings. Pulling them out part of wanted to fucking cry and the other wanted to throw them in frustration.

Their wedding rings. He forgot he picked them up when he grabbed Michael's sword.

Would have been nice to remember that five fucking minutes ago.......

Lucifer slipped his on his finger and looked at it, he remembered when Adam gave it to him and how amazing it felt and how happy he had been. How could he think any random replacement ring would have been okay? It would look okay, but they would be the real rings the true symbols of their love.

Lucifer cried, he found a piece of paper placed Adams ring on it with his name on it and placed it somewhere he would see it.

If he even wanted it anymore. Or him.

Lucifer never should have taken his fucking ring off and he never would again, he'd super glue it to his fucking finger if that would make Adam happy.

He left for what was now his office, maybe he could find something about this extermination day. Though he was certain it was exactly as it sounded.

Opening the office door, Lucifer was grateful that Satan was well organized the place was in good order.

Lucifer sat down and got to reading, he supposed he should know these things as King now......

Oh who the fuck was he kidding, he was as much a King as that fucking pen was.

Charlie: That was amazing!

Adam: See? There's a lot you can do kid.

She felt so energized and it was nice to finally have some one on one time with Adam. They had been at it for hours and now she was a little pooped.

Charlie: Adam? Can I ask you something?

Adam: Yeah sure.

Charlie: Are you two okay?

Adam froze: Look, that's-

Charlie: Because we spent a week working out the perfect plan to save you and the first thing you do when you get home is fight......... I know you're hurt.... But he loves you.

They spent a week on a plan to help him?

Adam: Charlie -

Charlie: Look, maybe it's none of my business but he made a mistake. Haven't you made mistakes?

Adam has made plenty of mistakes especially in their relationship. His biggest one killed Lucifer.

Adam: ...... Let's just call it a night.

Charlie sighed but nodded and went to her room. Adam probably should find him and talk about..... Even a little.

Adam: Lu?

He wasn't in the throne room, but a piece of paper caught his eye...... With a ring on it.

With a shaky hand, Adam picked up the ring. His ring. He could tell from the wear and the engraving on the inside..

Adam: Fuck....

He slipped it onto his finger and it was a perfect fit. When did he get this?

He needs to find him.

Adam walked around until he found the office where Lucifer was sitting behind the desk. He tried not to laugh, Lucifer looked so small sitting behind that giant desk. Papers everywhere, he looked so tired and broken.

And he had his ring on.

Adam: Lu?

Lucifer jumped, he didn't hear him walk up. He felt his heart break, was Adam here to tell him it was over? For good? He really tried not to cry but he should have known he never deserved to be with Adam, who was a fucking God of all things.

Lucifer: Y-yeah?

He was going to cry this was too much.

Adam came closer and before he could say anything Lucifer just broke down crying and apologizing.

Lucifer, his voice thick with emotion: I-I-I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry! I just wanted to get you back, I wasn't thinking. You mean everything to me, I-I-I love you so much, please I'm so sorry.

He sobbed and he didn't care, if Adam wanted to take his axe and split him in half he'd let him, he didn't care.

Lucifer didn't want to live in a world where Adam didn't love him.

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

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heartbreakgrill · 1 day ago

Text

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 9; "Never seen that color blue."

“No, yeah, of course! Noo…no! Thank you! I seriously appreciate all of your help and understanding during this! I hope you have a wonderful day! Yeah, aw, thanks! You, too! Yeah- okay- bye!”

My faux smile dropped as soon as my hand did, phone falling to a silenced settle on my left thigh. I breathed a shallow breath of somehow anxious relief, so ironic that it made me want to scream.

Max reached across the bed and rubbed my knee comfortingly, “You okay?”

I wanted to snort, yell, kick my feet, and laugh hysterically. Throw a temper tantrum, wish on a star, kiss a fucking frog. Fall on my knees, beg the skies. Change fate's cruel course of time.

But my expression was blank as I shrugged, “What can ya do?”

The corner of his lips lifted into the saddest smile. His thumb brushed my skin, “It’s gonna be alright. Once you settle back in, things will start to feel normal. You can start…moving on. And, hey, I’m visiting in just a month. You have that to look forward to. School starting, your new role at the clinic. So many good things, Daz.”

He was right- I had so much to be excited about. I really should’ve felt excited, grateful. A better woman would have. A better woman would have seen the blessings all around her and felt so full of life and love. God, she would’ve respected herself enough to not be in this situation in the first place.

Yet I couldn’t help but feel resentful, knowing that I would trade all of it for-

for him.

For Oliver.

I would give up everything for just another moment, hanging onto his lips like a vine. Just a second of growth, even if being ripped away meant digging up the roots and my leaves dying.

I just gave Max that fake smile, knowing full well he was aware that it meant nothing. “You’re right. It’ll be good for me to be home.”

He squeezed my knee before removing his hand. “You wanna finish packing? Or maybe take a break? Get some food?”

I glanced around at the mess of clothes across Sam and I’s hotel room. My bags lay open, a few piles of my stuff already stuffed inside. But there was more than half to be done. So much to be done before I went…before I went home tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Less than 12 hours from now. I’d be heading back to reality. Closing the doors on Europe, on everything and everybody I’d be leaving here.

There was just one week left on the European leg of the two. Tomorrow morning, everyone will be leaving for Germany. I’d go to the airport with them, like normal, but depart at a separate gate, at the same exact time. Those who needed to know, well, I was going to tell them. And those who needed to know the reason why would, too. Sam was going to think I was going home because of an offer for a higher position from the clinic I worked at. But this was only partially true. Training for that wouldn’t even start for another 3 weeks. School wasn’t for a month.

I was leaving for me- for clarity, fresh air. Oliver was right- London was foggy, full of pollution and shitty, selfish men.

I needed to get away, out. Back to routine and home. Back to what I knew- what wouldn’t hurt me.

I looked back to Max, “I'm gonna finish packing. Get it over with. Before Sam gets back. I think it might hurt his feelings to walk in and see this…mess.”

Mess might have held a double meaning. I had looked better, for sure. Max understood, I think, for he knocked his shoulder against mine, then stood from the bed. “We got it, Daz.”

I stood up quickly, knowing the only way to get started was to just start. Stand. Move. (I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.)

It took us another hour or so to finish stuffing my belongings into their bags. I had bought maybe one too many souvenirs, so we struggled to find a place for everything. When we were done, I slew myself across the end of the bed, breathing heavily, sweating a little bit.

Max groaned from the floor, “Why do you own so many things?!”

“Dude, I don’t even know. It’s gonna take me 12 years to unpack!”

He chortled, half-heartedly, patting his stomach as an afterthought. “I am soooo hungry. What do you wanna eat?”

I sat up as he did so, shrugging a bit, “You pick. I don’t have the energy for all that.”

“I’m good with the hotel restaurant if you are.”

“Fuck it.”

So, we sludged our way downstairs. I hadn’t been leaving my room much, worried you-know-who would cross my path and shake things up again. Though, I doubted he was looking for me. He hadn’t so much as texted me since last week. Oliver was probably sulking, convincing himself that he was the victim in this whole thing. The thought made my blood rush a little bit. I clenched my fist as the elevator doors closed, trying to focus on breathing and not screaming.

The past three had been probably one of the worst of my life. I was so…so sad. So angry. Confused. Nothing made sense, yet all of my fears had come true. It was like I knew all the answers, but my bones felt so put off by how they manifested themselves. Like, what do you mean the cold, dark, distant boy turned out to be a cheating, manipulative liar? Right on the money.

My rational mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that it still felt so…disappointing? Wrong? Fucked the fucking fuck up.

The doors slid open. I followed, quietly, behind Max as we headed for the inlet to the left of the front counter. This was a usual part of my new found routine, grabbing food with Max. Albeit, sneakily, with numerous texts between the two of us (me, badgering him) ensuring nobody else (Oliver) was down here. In avoiding him, I had been avoiding everybody else, too.

I could already see their knowing looks. Sam could read me like a book. Ronnie was way psychic and usually felt the vibe of a situation long before it occurred. Adam, obviously, already was aware. And I'm sure he would have relayed the information to Cyrus.

I was exuding this aura of heartbroken, school-girl-fantasy-crushed, sad-puppy shit. I felt tired, and I’m sure my eyes looked it, too. Any passerby probably could have read my emotions pretty well. No matter, I’d be out of here soon. Back home. I could heal, rest, relax, find somebody else to fuck and get the fuck over this dumb ass white boy.

My dumb ass white boy. I’d tried not to think about him, so deeply sunk into this angry feeling that I couldn’t even fathom the idea of missing what had hurt me. Alas, every once and a while (between every other curse I thought of) something would flash through my mind. A distant memory, an image of his deep-ocean blue eyes shining with flames from the rooftop firepit, triggered by a breath, a catch of the wind, a sink in my heart. I’d feel a little moth flicker in my chest. An air bubble, taut in my stomach, would have me hiccuping from gushing tears in an instant.

I think it was the deep blue suede of the hotel bar’s stools that did it this time. I brushed a hand, slowly, watching the color shift from the movement of the fabric. The lighter color reminded me of a time he felt the way I did right now. Sadness. Maybe it hadn’t meant as much to him, maybe his depravity was not comforted by me. But that moment, when I held him, when he nuzzled his head into my neck and began crying-

“Wanna drink?” Max rested a hand on my shoulder, drawing my attention back from where I was trudging through fleeting, erasing moments.

I ceased my body from flinching, willed away the wetness in my eyes, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s get a drink.”

Which was a mistake.

One drink turned to appetizers turned to three drinks turned to main courses, 5 drinks, 2 shots, and dessert. Before I knew it, Max and I were cackling over some typo on some Twitter post. I gripped his shirt sleeve and hoped I wouldn’t slide off the bar stool. For the first time in a week, I wasn’t concerning myself with the logistics of sticking around in this public area as long as we had been. I wasn’t even thinking of Oliver. In fact, Max and I were discussing some of our favorite shitposts about American politics. My mind was far away from dumb Brits and idiotic Europeans.

Of course, the world had a very funny way of spitting in my face.

Adam, Cyrus, and- low and behold- Oliver came strolling into the bar right when Max and I finished ordering another drink. I felt a little sick, watching as they neared us. Oliver wasn’t paying attention. He never did. His head, sunken into his hoodie, hands shoved in his pockets. He moved like the Grim Reaper. I wondered if he had come to take my soul away.

Adam and Cyrus seemed…on edge. They noticed Max and I only after they’d made it halfway across the room. Adam hesitated on his next step, catching my eye, worriedly glancing between me and Oliver.

Max was aware, at this point. He cut himself off mid sentence, swiping a hand across his lips. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself. “Daisy…let’s go.”

His fingers brushed through mine in a desperate grasp to pull me along with him, towards the door. I was drunk. I was not thinking. I was hysterical, sad, heartbroken, angry. I tugged my hand away, instead flipping into the air to wave and cheerfully catch the group’s full attention.

“Cy! Adam!” I couldn’t quite catch his name on my tongue. I thought I might puke. “Hey, girl!”

Oliver looked up at the sound of voice. He stopped, but three feet from our little round table. The light, dim from the overhead lamps and LED strips behind the counter, caught the round pupils in his eyes. I watched as he blinked once, twice. Blue.

“Oliver!” There it was.

He met my eye. The corners of his lids wilted, like the petals of a flower, aged, saddened. Drops of rain dropping them in weight. Max looked between the two of us. Cyrus busied himself with buying a drink. Adam slouched in the awkward, pregnant air. Oliver ignored me, moved around our group to sit as far away as possible.

I clenched my jaw. Rage. Utter, pure anger. How dare he deny me even now? The fact that he had not come to my door in the past few days, on his knees, begging for my forgiveness- I was seething. And, now, he goes back to his old tricks. Pretending like I don’t exist.

I turned to Max, who was bracing for impact. His hands were wary, held up near me as if to catch my fall. I shrugged, smiled cheekily, wrinkled my nose. I bumped Adam’s shoulder with mine and declared, “Shots on me?”

He continued his smug slump in the bar stool for the next hour. Adam, Cyrus, Max, and I hung like the old pals we were, cracking jokes, swapping stories like we were surrounding a campfire. I glanced at Oliver every once in a while, hoping to accidentally make eye contact like we used to. He stared down at his phone or his glass. I was surprised the device worked considering he’d fucking forgotten my contact existed or something.

Ugh.

What a fucking ass hole.

Adam asked me a question, pulling my attention back in. “Are you excited for Germany?”

Oh. I’d almost forgotten all about this little plot. I knew that if I spoke loud enough, Oliver would hear. He’d react. I could almost hear it, the little hitch in his breath. The tickle in his throat. The flit of his tongue across his lips, the patter of his holey heart.

I felt my own chest jitter with the excitement, the want of a reaction I needed from him. The shock. The idea that I would be an ocean away from him. No longer at an arm’s length.

I turned towards Adam and rested my chin on my fist. I frowned, almost playfully, “Ugh, I hate having to tell you guys like this!”

Cyrus slowly lowered his glass from his lips, having been mid-drink, “What’s up?”

“I’m going home,” my brows furrowed in a naive look. Adam and Cyrus’ chins dropped a sliver. I pouted my lip, “Stop! I know! I’m so sad!”

I wanted to wait until the conversation was over to look down the bar, to see if even a fragment of what I was saying had affected him. But, I didn’t need to wait. Oliver had flinched. He literally flinched.

“Yeah, me, too,” Adam touched my hand. “Why so soon? I thought you were staying through August?”

“I was planning on it, but…they offered me a better position at the clinic I work at. I have to get home to start training,” I continued, a satisfied smirk teasing my mouth.

Cyrus lifted his glass, “Well, there’s nothing to be sad about, then! To your new job.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” the smirk slipped into a genuine smile. I really would miss these guys, but my drunken, stupid mind wasn’t thinking about that. I wanted more from Oliver. I wanted a white flag or a look or a…fuck, I wanted him.

I pushed, “I’ll really miss you guys. Max, with your corny-ass pick-up lines, Adam’s mom vibes, Cy’s ability to knock back more drinks than fucking- I don’t know, Spider-man, and not get drunk? Shit’s insane.”

I drank in the laughter for a moment, eyes lingering down the bar to Oliver. Then, I added a name to my list and narrowed my gaze, “Oliver,” he wouldn’t look. “With your need to ignore me in every room we’re in. I’ll really miss your cold fucking shoulder.”

Any laughter that may have hung onto our past moment faded. I heard Max take a sharp breath in through his teeth. Adam pressed his lips together. Cyrus looked over his shoulder at their friend. I didn’t know if he really knew, but he had to understand just a little bit. The vibes were always there. We thought we were sneaky, but we were so sickly up each other’s asses. We’d even run into Cyrus and Adam in the hallway that one time. I guess we were all really good at being hopefully fucking stupid and blind.

I leaned on my palm and stared that man down. I watched as he kept his chin, pointed ahead, like he was playing brave in the situation. His Adam's apple bobbed. Oliver clutched his glass, swung it back, slugged the liquid down. Slammed it back on the counter. Then, he stood up, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and threw a wad of bills onto the bar. He adjusted his hoodie and left.

I was dizzy. I stuttered back a step. Max touched my wrist, murmuring something or the other about heading back upstairs. Telling me I was too drunk.

I felt slow, felt dizzy, felt scared, felt angry, felt sad. I felt so sad. I felt so angry and so sad and…

And, my eyebrows furrowed in anger, the shock erasing itself from my frame. I took a deep, drunken breath and followed his trail. Fast. Legs pumping, arms swinging at my sides.

He was at the elevator, looking down at his shoes. I couldn’t get his name out. I think if I did the tears were going to fall out, The sobs were going to ricochet through my whole body and knock me over and kill me and I’d die and I’d never get to see that dumb asses blue eyes any more. Ever again. I wanted to see his blue eyes again. I wanted him to look at me and see me for what he sees me as. I wanted him to touch my hip and wring my neck and tell me I was the only one he wanted. I’d take it. One more time, then he could go back to her. I just wanted a goodbye.

He was stepping into the elevator. The doors were closing. I jammed a hand between and he flinched, again.

I stepped in just as the doors began to shut again. His eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them. He was frozen. Frowning. He looked…sad.

I almost reached a hand out, almost caressed his cheek and pulled him into me. But, I didn’t. Instead, I said (yelled?), “What the fuck is your problem?”

He stammered, “Wha-what?”

I struggled to repeat myself. I needed to cry. It was going to open. But, for another moment, the anger took over, “You fucking heard me. What is your problem, Oliver? What the fuck did I do to deserve this kind of shit? I don’t wanna hear more sad excuses about your fucking mental health and your-your fucking anxiety. God, I- I fucking…I don’t even k- you fucking ignored me back there! I looked right at you and I said your name and I smiled at you and…I’ve been so nice to you. I’ve been nice to you all summer and you treat me like a piece of fucking shit. God, I’ve…I’ve told you so much. I told you about my mom and…and you laid there and you told me all this bullshit about how much you liked me! And then you…youre a fucking-”

I cut myself off, out of breath. I was sweating a little bit. I think I had spit a few times. And I paced the elevator so much that I was flush against the wall. I leaned my shoulders back against the cool metal, wringing my hands, tugging at my hair.

He didn’t say anything. I breathed, hard, I thought, long. I kept thinking, and I kept getting angrier. I turned back to him, rearing up again. I had more to say, I just, I just needed to get some more concise- more thoughtful thoughts, right, exactly. Yes. I can…

“And who the fuck is F-”

“Daisy.”

There it was, my name. It was my name, soft and angelic, and holy. And a moment on his lips that he carved out of time and held a space for, for me to hear.

I stopped. I felt nothing for a moment. I looked at him and he was already waiting to see my eyes. My bottom lip wobbled.

“You’re obviously upset. And, drunk. Why don’t we talk about this in the morning? We can both get some rest.” He was always so good at two very distinct things: pushing stuff (people) aside and speaking to me in a way that felt like a cloud was wrapping itself around me. Like the cloud wanted me to lay in its arm and would coo me to sleep. Like I was safe and loved and-

Loved.

He made me feel loved.

I straightened up a bit at the thought. I pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Who the fuck is Fiona? What the fuck was that all about? Oliver, I’m not going to stand here and beg for you to love me. Or beg for you to come back to me. I just want a goddamn apology. For wasting my time, for playing with my fucking heart. For stringing me along. You knew-”

The tears came. Perfect timing. “You fucking know that I love you. You have known for a very long time. And you are an idiotic fool if you still don’t believe it. But I am not going to play this game with you. I told you that already and now I seriously mean it. I broke my back this summer to make sure that I was who you wanted me to be. So I was cool and chill and could take as much space as you wanted me to. I went with everything you asked of me, I was there when you needed a warm body. I comforted you and…and tried to fucking fix you like I knew you wanted me to. But, I am done. I am done with this. I am done-”

My voice cracked. I swiped an angry, shaking hand across my face. Vision blurred. “I am done with you. This is ridiculous. I don’t know if you meant to, but you have manipulated this situation so that you have been the one benefiting. I’m tired of letting you think you’re some broken, sad puppy dog on the side of the road that needs to be taken care of. Grow the fuck up. And, now I find out that there’s some other woman? That I- I’m the other woman, maybe? That you’re cheating on her with me? That I’m your fucking slut? Side hoe?”

I had paced again, this time, towards him. He was taller than me, but my anger was making me taller. He was almost…cowering. I pointed my finger again, nearly chest to chest with him.

“Fuck you, Oliver. Fuck you and fuck London and fuck your stupid fucking music.”

The doors opened, on our floor. I walked out, but turned to face him before he was really gone from me. I wanted to see his eyes one last time.

He was crying. I popped an arm into the door again, buying myself more time to kick him while he was down. I thought this would bring me closure. I thought I’d feel better if he knew, truly knew, the entirety. Every thought. Every hurt I felt.

“You asked me at the beginning of the summer what I was searching for. I thought that it was you. And I thought that I had found you.”

I shook my head sadly. The doorbell on the elevator rang. I stepped back, “I was right. There is no deeper meaning. Goodbye, Oliver.”

I stood there for a second, as though I could still see his blue eyes, boring through the metal doors.

Then, I sludged my way to my hotel room. I opened the door, shoulders slumped, body aching. I knew my makeup was smeared all over my face. My hair was wrecked. I couldn’t stop sniffling or whimpering. I walked into the room.

Sam sat up in his bed. Ronnie was beside him. I barely made it two more steps before Sam caught me in his arms.

–

The sky was gray. The weather in Europe usually was, especially up here on this side of the continent. I wasn’t surprised when, on our drive to the airport, it started spitting rain. I shivered underneath the cover of my hoodie, yet walked slowly through the entrance.

I remember when I had first dropped down in London, wide-eyed, hopeful. I think it had been raining then, too. But, I hadn’t cared. Come to think of it, it was raining pretty much everyday we had been in London.

Oliver was right about a couple things.

Back then, just three months ago, I hadn’t cared about the sun’s shadow curving from behind the clouds, nor did I mind that it was usually quite chilly outside. Now, I felt anger, annoyance at the weather, at the people, at the world.

At him. The stupid weight of my suitcase. The drag in my step. The wetness of my clothes and the chill of the wind.

I felt older, in the worst way. I was a different age, considering my birthday had passed while I’d been here. But, I felt old in a way that was draining. I felt like I had wasted so much time, energy, and all I had left were weary bones and sadness. Just how much I had left, I didn’t know. But I did know that as soon as I got back home, I would be rotting in my bed for a day or two.

Sam, Max, and Ronnie came to the airport early with me. My flight time had been pulled forward by an hour, so I needed to get here sooner than I thought. I wasn’t complaining, though. I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of the hotel. Out of here. Out of London.

I hurried the process of packing my last few things. Stuffed my breakfast down my throat. Impatiently waited in the taxi, knee bouncing, as Sam and Max loaded the trunk with all of our things. Ronnie slid in beside me and became the first reason that I cried that day.

She reared a look over her shoulder, out the back window, to check on Max and Sam. Then, with an awkward sigh, she turned her knees towards me, “Peaches?”

I glanced up from my lap and the bounce of my knee slowed, “Yeah?”

Upon noticing the somber gaze in her eyes, my brows furrowed. “What’s up?” I added, fully presenting her my full attention.

Ronnie rubbed her nose in a seemingly nervous manner, “I just wanted to say…um, ew. Sorry.”

I softly giggled at her disgust with whatever sentence she was trying to form. “What is it?”

She finally met my eye in a fervently forward manner, “I usually have fun on tour. But this summer was…it was extra special. Getting to know you has been…so cool. I don’t know. I just…I love you, Daisy. You’ve become like a sister to me.”

I couldn’t help but feel the tears well up in my eyes. “Oh, Ronnie,” I sniffled, hugging her around the shoulders.

She pulled me close to her and I swear I heard her sniffle a bit, too. “I’m sorry for not noticing what was happening. I should’ve been there for you more. I got caught up in my own-”

“Don’t even apologize,” I reared back with my reply, “No. It’s nobody’s fault. I’m not even blaming myself for what happened. It was a stupid, weird situation. It was my responsibility to come to you if I needed help. I just needed…I just need to go home now.”

Ronnie smiled a sad, peaceful smile. “I hope I get to see you again soon. I don’t know what I will do without your bright light.”

“Oh, you will. You guys will be in the US soon. Sam said he was gonna drop by. I am positive you’ll be there, too,” I dropped a sly wink.

Ronnie watched my face for a moment, “I mean, of course you know now. But…” she narrowed her eyes, grinning in shocked realisation, “Fucker. You knew the whole time?!”

“Of course I knew the whole time. Sam is-” I snorted, “Sam is not hiding his lovesick, puppy-dog eyes.”

Ronnie’s gaze widened slightly, “I-”

The doors of the taxi popped open as the boys joined us, Max in the back on my other side, Sam in the front. He saw our laughing, secretive expressions in the rearview mirror and turned back. “What are you two doing?”

I brushed my hands across my cheeks to clear whatever tears might’ve been rolling still, then shook my head. “Nothing, Sam-Ham.”

He turned his eyes to Ronnie and tilted his chin forward. She shrugged, a smug smile contorting her once saddened face. Ronnie dropped a wink, “Nothing at all.”

The second person to make me cry was Max. Out of everyone, he was probably my best friend at this point. We had spent so much time together, out drinking, dancing, holed up in my hotel room with trays of room service, movies on the tv. He had been there through one of the most terrifying, exhilarating, strange summers of my life. We were bonded forever, now. I could feel it.

He was helping me check in while Sam and Ronnie headed to drop off our baggage. They were all just planning on hanging for the extra hour until it was time to check in for their flight. I was grateful they all wanted to sacrifice the time for me. To them, though, I knew it was second nature.

Some people made it easy, loving me.

I shook away the thoughts because the attendant was handing me my ticket. She reiterated boarding time, twenty minutes from now, and wished me a safe flight. “Thank you,” I nodded before turning back to Max.

The tall blonde was watching me. I could tell he was on the verge of tears from just the way that his shoulders shrugged forward. It made my heart swell, knowing how much of an impact I had had on them.

He tried to straighten up as I looked him in the eye. Then, he opened his mouth to say something. I threw myself into his arms before he could. Hugging me tight, Max brushed a hand down the back of my head.

“Oh, sweet, lovely angel. I am going to miss you so.”

I didn’t need to hear anything else to start crying into his chest. Max felt the rock of my shoulders and sniffled into my hairline. “Don’t start, love. I won’t be able to stop, myself,” he chuckled shortly.

We stood like that for a few minutes, maybe more, before I stepped back. I rubbed my eyes on the inside of my sweatshirt, knowing my face was flushed and probably swelling. Max touched his fingers to my wrists and gently brushed aside my hands. He took in my visage, so delicately, and sighed. “Can I just say…”

“Oh, no!” I exclaimed through a sob. More tears fell.

Max rubbed my shoulders, “No, no, no, love. It’s okay. No more tears, okay? We’ll be okay. Just…I just want- I need to tell you how important you are. I know you’re going to go home and things are going to start to settle and you’re going to start to think so many things about yourself. You are so easy to love, Daisy. It is like breathing to me, to Ronnie, to Sam, Sasha. It is breathing. And you are worthy of it, too. That’s all. I just…I just needed to tell you, okay?”

I didn’t say anything else. I just whimpered and pulled him in closer to me.

Sam was the worst.

Since the evening before, when I had broken down in his arms and told him, through my blubbering, a short synopsis of what had happened, we hadn’t spoken much. I didn’t know if it was simply because we didn't have enough time. But, I was feeling worse because of it.

I needed my big brother more than anybody else. Sam knew me better than anybody else, even if we hadn’t been around each other as often as we used to. He still understood me. We shared the same blood, for God’s sake.

Yet, as we sat there, in the waiting area of my plane’s gate, he didn’t even look at me. He stared down at the floor, hands folded in his lap. He sat across from Ronnie, Max, and I, making it known that he wanted nothing to do with the conversation. When he first sat there, the aisle a wide gap between us, I furrowed my brows. But, then, Ronnie and Max striked up some topic that I invested myself and my attention into.

It didn’t seem like that big of a deal until they called for me. I stood up, faster than I should’ve, to be honest, and began to gather my things. Phone, bag, jacket, passport. I ran the list over in my head, three times over.

All the while, Sam slowly stood, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and watched his feet as he scuffed his sneakers across the carpeted floor.

I passed my eyes over him for a moment, holding my breath. Surely, my brother would have something to say to me.

He didn’t make a move.

I began walking the short distance to my gate. Before I moved to get in line, though, I turned back to my friends. Max jumped for a hug first, barely allowing me enough time to fully settle back on my heels. I dug my feet into the ground to gain traction as his ginormous body came toppling into my arms. Ronnie joined in the hug yet struggled to toss her arms over Max’s tall frame. He adjusted as we all shared a laugh and tucked her in beside me.

He called over his shoulder, voice muffled, “Get in here, Sam-Ham!”

I heard my brother elicit a laugh. It felt refreshing to hear. Then, I felt the hug grow tighter as he joined in on Max’s other side. We didn’t stay like that for long. It was stuffy and I wasn’t getting much air.

So, I tapped Max’s back and said, “Alright. Let me go.”

I gave individual hugs to everybody, voicing my own grateful, somewhat short, goodbyes.

Then, I turned to my brother. He evaded my eye contact for a moment or two. Then he pulled me in. Tight.

Out of nowhere, “I’m sorry if he ruined your summer.”

Tensing up from the words, the mention of him, I slowly pulled back from Sam’s embrace. He held onto my back, sort of cradling me. The guilt lying in his eyes was far worse than anything I’d ever seen flash across his face. My own gaze softened from the taut expression it had anxiously contorted to.

“What?” I breathily inquired, unsure if I had heard him correctly, saddened that he was obviously carrying so much hurt from my stupid mistakes. “Why? Sam, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, Daz, I just…” Sam’s arms fell from around me. I missed the warmth as soon as the chill of the vast room settled in around my sweatshirt. He ran a veiny hand across his forehead, “I'm supposed to be there for you. Protect you. And I already suck at the first part.”

“Sam,” I grasped his wrist, slipping his fingers between my hands. “It’s not your fault. It’s…honestly, if my summer was ruined, it was because of my own shitty decisions. Besides, you don’t suck at being there for me. I can’t believe you would even think that!”

I clasped his hand tight between mine, brows furrowed. To hear him blame himself, to hear him look this way…This whole summer, I had spent my time obsessing over somebody who didn’t even want me. I should have paid more attention to my brother, who was part of the reason I was here in the first place.

The farther I got from the start of this journey, literally and figuratively, the blurrier my original dreams became. There was no meaning to find here- only what was already there.

The thought made me lick my lips in nervous realisation.

Sam let out a frustrated, breathy chortle. “Don’t give me so much credit. I’ve been…gone. Running away from home. For so long. Worried about getting out of that apartment and town and away from…from anything that could remind me of her. Remind me of mom. I left you behind in the process.”

The wetness in my eyes began to pour over. “Oh, Sam,” my lips trembled out as I dove back into his arms. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as though an airplane would dive down and pull him away. I needed this. This kind of hug. This moment.

Clarity was nearer than ever before.

“Listen,” I pulled back, “I need you to understand, okay? My summer was not ruined. It wasn’t. This entire experience has been the most amazing, wonderful, awesome, cool time. I got to spend so much time getting to see you, getting to see your world. And, don’t ever blame yourself for getting away. You had to. I see it now- You had to come be a part of this wonderful band, go with them on all of their amazing tours. I see it on your face, Sam. This is what you’re supposed to do, okay? My mistakes are my own. Not yours.”

“I just…” Sam stared at the floor for a moment, tongue quick to go and defend his original claim But he paused and let the information process. “I…I just wish I could punch him in the face or something. What a douche. Dragging you into his mess. I should’ve known, too. The way he treated you- it was so obvious. For that, I am sorry, Daisy. I should’ve said something. Honestly,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I should beat his ass.”

Max and Ronnie, who had been trying to make it appear as though they were not eavesdropping, laughed at the last line. I opened up Sam and I’s moment by taking a step back. I gave them space to join us here. Ronnie clasped Sam’s hand and rested her head on his shoulder, “As funny as that would be, he is still your boss. And your bandmate,” she nodded to Max.

The tall blond rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Don’t worry. I’ll try to keep it civil.”

It was my turn to scold. I punched Max in the shoulder to gain his eye contact, “Don’t try. Just do it. He’s not a bad person. He just…sucks. A little bit.”

Talking about him, living in the truth of the situation, confronting all the dark realizations- it was a heavy weight to bear. I felt my shoulder slinking forward, as though I were Atlas with the dark, cloudy sky above me. Though I didn’t want to be rid of these three, I needed to be gone already. I needed to go before it all came crashing down again. I didn’t want anybody else to see me cry again. It was…embarrassing, to say the least.

So, I allowed one last hug from each of them and then turned towards my gate. I boarded the plane, mindlessly, going through all of the motions. Like I was used to leaving, like I was good at it. Like I was strong. But, I felt weak. I felt heavy and sad and angry and…

The city was gray. I remember it being sunny, summer-weather, though there had been a chill in the air. He always said it was. Maybe it always had been and I was…crazy. Wide-eyed. Desperate or naive or whatever.

But it was clear as day now, how dreary it looked from this airplane window. The wind whipped at the airline workers, shuffling luggage to their places, green vests billowing up. My breath fogged at the window which narrowed my pointed gaze. It seemed the plane was being pumped full of heat. I hadn’t realized it was that cold outside.

I guess fall was coming.

“Ladies and gentleman, this is your reminder to place your devices on airplane mode. We are approaching take-off,” a thick, European accent declared over the PA system.

I wrestled to retrieve my phone from my bookbag, which was squished in between my feet. When I was able to lift it towards me, the screen lit up. There was a buzz from the device that vibrated my hand then the appearance of a text message.

Oliver: Daisy, I need to tell you…

The message cut itself off, only the sneakpeek visible due to the system settings I had on my device.

It was ominous, though, like it had chosen to cut itself off there.

The tail end of that message could be- anything.

Daisy, I need to tell you…you’re a dumb bitch?

…I fucking hate you.

I love you?

Please, stay?

I don’t think I wanted to know.

My thumb hesitated over the screen, barely gracing it’s smooth glass. If I tapped on the message, if I saw what he said…would it change things?

Would it make me hate him even more?

Would it make me want to stay?

I didn’t want anything else to make my decisions anymore. I wanted to make my own choices, based on my own actions, thoughts. I was tired of living up to everybody’s image of me. If that was all I learned this summer, to be true to what I wanted, to be true to myself…then maybe this summer wasn’t so bad after all.

Maybe there had been something to find- maybe that something was me.

The shaking in my hands must’ve made the screen react to a ghost of my fingerprint. The option to scan my face ID came as soon as a flight attendant passed by my section, a bright smile on their face.

“Hi, friend! Did you put your device on airplane mode?” They asked with a slight gesture towards my phone.

I glanced back at the screen as she pointed. The message was open. That’s where it had ended, what Oliver had sent to me. “I need to tell you something.” But, he was still typing, still coming up with words to say.

My hands moved quickly, sliding down the menu and thumbing the airplane option. If he were still typing, I couldn’t see it anymore.

And any messages he may try to send would go green, undelivered, lost.

Forgotten, in the skies, somewhere between London and Germany, during the beginning of a cold, cold autumn.

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