#but it's 2am and i'm not going to look for any more

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[obsesssedblerd]

dating satoru and suguru pt. 2 (nsfw hcs under the cut.)

when satoru is away on long missions, you and suguru both practically live in his hoodies that have his scent on them until he comes back

speaking of scents, satoru enjoys expensive colognes, body care, and hair care. if it smells good, he wants it. of course, that meant that you and suguru also had the best brands stacked in the bathroom.

when suguru finally gets you and satoru out of bed, he prepares to-go breakfast sandwiches for all of you.

suguru asked you and satoru if he should cut his hair one day, and both of you screamed "NO" and told him to never ask that crazy shit again

suguru will whisper in yours and satoru's ears just to see how flustered you get. it works. every time.

"let's go to an arcade!" "satoru it's 2am." "so?" (spoiler alert: you three do, in fact, end up at the arcade despite it being 2am)

if satoru isn't suggesting an arcade at 2am, then you're suggesting to go get food. a 24/7 diner in your neighborhood HATES to see you three coming. (especially satoru. remember that scene with the burgers? lmao he can EAT.)

digimon marathons! (you and suguru are NOT allowed to say no)

"uh... whose turn is it to do dishes?"

when suguru notices someone else looking at either you or satoru with interest, he'll kiss you hard. he doesn't share.

both you and suguru call satoru "pretty boy" and he blushes every time

all three of you have a stuffed animal that matches your hair color.

nsfw hcs under the cut [mdni]

satoru and suguru were ALL of your firsts. suguru was the first one to kiss you, finger you, and fuck you; satoru was the first one to suck your tits, eat you out, and cum inside of you.

suguru was super, super gentle during your first time. he was also satoru's first. he loved you both so much and wanted you to be comfortable.

neither of them like it when you touch yourself. if you're horny, they want to take care of it.

suguru is a brat tamer. he handles you and satoru's bratty behavior effortlessly. he loves putting you two back in your place more than anything else.

when satoru was acting up all day, suguru tied him up, then fucked you in front of him. he was only allowed to watch and not touch. by the time you cum on suguru's cock, satoru's stuttering his apologies and begging to touch you both.

suguru loves to watch you and satoru make each other feel good. he'll stroke himself while you ride satoru. even from the side, he was still in charge. you and satoru knew better than to cum without permission.

high tension after an argument? you'll fuck it out.

satoru enjoys pushing suguru until he explodes. suguru's always so irritated bc of work and he'd rather hold it in instead of talking about it, and satoru gets under his skin, so he'll snap and take out all of his frustrations on him.

you do the same. you love it when he's rough. besides, anyone would need the stress relief after putting in long hours as a sorcerer.

suguru also relieves you and satoru's stress. nothing is ever one-sided. he'll please you until you can't take it anymore.

satoru loves your tits. he's obsessed with them, actually. you don't think there's been a day where there weren't any marks on them.

amazing aftercare. all of you spoil the hell out of each other. so much cuddling, so many gentle kisses, and food. all of you love food after sex. you and satoru always whine when suguru leaves the bed to get something from the kitchen because you want to cuddle. "i'm literally going right down the hall. i'll be back."

you're wiping some frosting off of satoru's cheek when he asks you and suguru to watch more digimon. you can't refuse, especially when he's adorably looking up at you both with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

[harksness]

Or also milf Agatha who’s just recently divorced ( from a man ) and kind of always had to be the “ perfect submissive wife “ so when she meets you at a bar when Wanda had dragged her to go out, all changes.

Agatha slowly learning she likes to be more in control and being such a good domme to you like AHHHHHHHHH I NEED HER TO BE MY MOMMY AGATHA SAUR BAD

PLLLSSS YOURE MAKING ME GO ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED SDJNIAGFLDJFG MOMMY AGATHA IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEED IN MY LIFE

I WENT WAAY TOO OVERBOARD W THIS ONE OOPS MY HAND SLIPPED AND I WROTE A WHOLE FIC WHEN I SAW THIS AT 2AM ?? i didnt know i had this in me atm but the horny brainrot for mommy agatha was just too real it's like that + the sleep deprivation possessed me

mommy agatha would fix all my problems in life rn i need her so bad auughghghghghghg

"I'm sure it's been a long time since you've had some fun. We need to find you some action."

Wanda winks at Agatha and the older woman rolls her eyes with a soft scoff as she raises her drink to her lips.

"Oh please, nothing with Ralph was ever fun. It was just... Sex."

Agatha sighs, a crushing feeling weighing down on her when she realizes just how miserable her life with that man was. How.. Unfulfilling.

You're told as a woman to marry a good man, be a good, submissive wife, make sure to make him happy. A few months ago Agatha came to the crashing realization that maybe what she wanted wasn't what she had been told to want her whole life.

Then she realized just how bad the sex actually was.

And she promptly filed for a divorce not long after. There wasn't much love lost on her end, the years had worn on her and she was ready for this a while ago. The only thing lost on her end was time. And she doesn't want to waste any more of it.

After confiding all of these heavy feelings to her dear friend Wanda, this was the idea she came up with to help. A popular bar in Westview.

"Okay, so.. It's your first night of freedom, of being able to decide exactly what you want for yourself and from sex. What's the first thing that pops into your head?"

Wanda smiles at her, resting her elbow on the table in front of her and plopping her head into the palm of her hand. Agatha pauses for a moment in thought.

What does she want?

Her bright blue eyes scan over the crowd of people in the dimly lit bar, hoping for the realization to smack her in the face.

"Honestly? A young, pretty girl that can help me learn a thing or two about myself.."

Agatha says plainly, and Wanda hums out in thought, eyes scanning over the crowd.

"Oh! What about her?"

Wanda points across the room, and Agatha's eyes catch on you. Her eyes widen as she takes you in. You're standing with your friends, pretty smile on your face, a tight dress hugging the curves of your body. She's eagerly drinking you in, eyes dragging over every little detail on your figure.

"You think she's cute."

Wanda giggles, and Agatha can tell that her friend is a bit tipsy.

"Oh she's more than cute."

Agatha admits, and Wanda's pushing herself out of her seat. The older woman looks up at her curiously.

"What are you doing?"

Wanda winks.

"Helping you get some fun."

"No, Wanda, not like this-"

All hope is lost. Wanda is already walking across the room towards you, navigating through the thin sea of people to reach you over at the bar. Agatha fights the urge to slump down in her seat and hide from embarrassment. If Wanda's going to be going about it like this, though, she might as well commit to the bit.

So, she pets her hair into place and straightens her posture as Wanda approaches you. She watches in horror as the two of you seem to quickly strike up a friendly conversation.

When Wanda gestures back towards where she's sitting and sipping on her drink and your eyes flicker over and land on her, Agatha's brain short circuits. You smile brightly and wave shyly over at her, and she thinks it's the cutest thing she's ever seen. Agatha leans forward and waves back.

Your friends are playfully pushing you towards the table, your features flushed red as you begin making your way towards her. When you reach the table, Agatha quirks a curious brow at you.

"Agatha, I'm guessing?"

You ask with a sheepish smile. The older woman nods her head.

"That's me, I assume my drunk friend said some very embarrassing things about me that somehow charmed you into coming over here?"

You laugh softly at her words, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Agatha feels her throat go dry, and she's raising her glass to her lips.

"Oh, yes, definitely. But I was more charmed when I looked over here at you."

Agatha grins up at you, butterflies making a fuss in her stomach.

"Do you want to sit with me?"

Eagerly you nod your head, and Agatha scoots over, wanting you to sit close to her. She gestures at the space she just made, hoping you'll slide in right next to her. And you do.

You tell her your name, what college you go to and what you're studying. You make fun, light small talk for a bit, enjoying getting to know each other. You share all of the embarassing things Wanda shared about her with a cute giggle, and Agatha can't even be mad because it got you to come over and sit with her.

Agatha insists on buying you a drink, and you're being so polite and insisting it's okay, you don't want her spending money on expensive cocktails for some girl she's only known for a few minutes. You keep trying to pull out your wallet when she quirks a brow at your politeness.

"Sweetheart, you're a college student. I'm assuming you don't have a ton of money lying around. Now, I do, so be a good girl and let me treat the sweet, cute little thing I'm growing rather fond of to something nice, hm?"

You freeze at her words, eyes wide, and Agatha's worried she screwed up with her forwardness. But a bright smile crosses your features, cheeks flushing as you fold your hands in your lap and nod your head.

"Y-yeah, I mean, if you insist.. Thank you very much."

You stumble through your words, and she notices how you cross your legs. Agatha feels something swirling in her chest, a bit of an ache growing between her legs at your shy compliance. A smile grows on her lips as she orders your favorite cocktail for you.

Agatha decides to be a little more bold.

"Oh, anything for you, honey.."

She coos, breath hot against your neck as she leans in and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. A smirk grows on her lips at the way you squirm, her eyes glancing down towards your chest as you heave in a deep breath.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do for you, hm?"

Agatha asks sweetly, one of her hands landing on your exposed thigh, squeezing the soft skin gently, giving you a chance to tell her to back off if you wanted to. She watches you hopefully.

You laugh shyly, nervously meeting her gaze. You part your lips to speak when the waiter sets your drink down in front of you, severing the tension like a knife. Agatha goes to pull her hand away, disappointment weighing heavy in her gut when your hand darts out to grab hers.

"W-wait.."

You mumble and Agatha's grinning excitedly.

"I mean.. You're just- like, really hot.. It's flustering me a bit.."

Your face is flushed deep red, your gaze avoiding hers.

"So you're okay with this?"

She asks, and you nod your head. She tsk's at you, raising a hand and hooking her finger under your chin as she guides you to look at her.

"Use your words, baby."

Your pupils blow wide at her words, gaze heavy with lust as your eyes flicker down to her lips.

"Yes. Yeah, I'm really okay with this.."

You mutter out softly and Agatha smiles.

"Good girl."

She melts at the way you gasp when her lips connect with yours. It's soft and sweet, and immediately you're returning her kiss, lips moving eagerly against one another. Agatha already feels addicted to your soft, sweet mouth.

You pull back first, and she's disappointed.

"Do you want to leave?"

The disappointment is quickly replaced with excitement.

"I'd love to. Would you be alright going to my place?"

You nod your head and quickly the two of you are out of there, abandoning your untouched drink on the table. Agatha is holding your hand, guiding you through and out the back of the building as you go to the back parking lot.

It's dark out, the cool night air chilling you skin as you wind between the parked cars, the lights of Agatha's car flickering as she unlocks it.

You tug softly on her hand and she turns to look at you.

"Please, kiss me again.."

You beg so sweetly for her, she's giving you what you want before she even realizes it. Agatha grabs you by the hips, fingers biting softly into your plush skin as she presses you against the side of the car. You gasp at the force, moaning softly as she presses her lips firmly into yours.

She's eager to tear more desperate words out of your mouth. It's the only thing on her mind as she nips at your bottom lip, you snaking your arms up and around her neck to pull her closer into you.

You're letting out little muffled noises into her mouth and she's in heaven, dropping her head to pepper lingering wet kisses against the column of your throat. You let out a sharp sigh.

"Fuck, you're so hot.."

Agatha groans against your skin and you let out a pathetic whimper. She raises her knee between your legs, pressing up and against your center. A moan tears out of your throat as your hands scramble to dig into her back, and Agatha feels dizzy at the look on your face. Your pretty plush lips parted so sweetly, bright eyes lidded over with desire just for her.

Oh, Agatha very quickly figured out what she wants.

She wants you, whimpering and begging and falling apart for her.

You can't control yourself as you start to softly grind against her thigh, rocking your hips back and forth as your teeth dig into your bottom lip. Agatha laughs softly as she leans down to pepper more kisses across your neck.

"Oh? Did I really work you up in the bar?"

She asks, a taunting edge to her voice. You nod your head.

"Use your words, pretty girl.."

Agatha coos, chest swelling at how eager you are to obey her.

"Fuck, yes.. I don't want to wait.."

You whimper out pathetically as you squirm against her thigh, moonlight highlighting your desperate features so beautifully for Agatha. She smirks down at you, raising a hand to cup your cheek.

Her thumb traces over your bottom lip, softly tugging it down and pressing on it before she releases it. Agatha wants to bite your bottom lip, dig her teeth in and have you gasping in pain and pleasure into her mouth so she can swallow every sweet noise you make and have it be part of her forever.

When she raises the digit once again you eagerly part your lips for her. Her smile widens as she traces the outline of your lips with her thumb before pushing it past your lips and into your mouth.

Agatha lets out a hard, controlled breath at the feeling of your hot, wet mouth wrapped around her thumb. Sucking her, pulling her in as your cheeks cave in but you hold her gaze. She leans further into you, grinding her thigh up into your wet cunt. You whimper around her thumb.

Agatha drags the digit out of your mouth, smearing your spit across your bottom lip.

"What do you want?"

She asks lowly, and you moan.

"Fuck, please, please just fuck me in your car. I don't wanna wait."

The teasing has reached its breaking point, you throw your head back and it softly thumps against the car. Agatha grins down at you, cooing softly as she affectionately runs her fingers over your cheek.

"Of course, sweet pea.."

Dropping her leg from between your thighs, the two of you take a step back so she can open the back door. Agatha gestures you in first, and you crawl over the smooth leather seats to the other side in order to make room for her.

She's following close behind, the car swaying a bit with how forcefully she slams the door shut. With a soft click, Agatha ensures the doors are locked and the two of you are secure inside.

You're laying back on the seats, propped up on your elbows as Agatha climbs over you, hungrily drinking you in.

"Fuck, what do you want me to do for you?"

Agatha breathes the words against your neck, her hands desperately roaming over your body, feeling electric with her need to touch you.

"I want you to do whatever you want to me.. Please.."

You beg and her brain short circuits. She can do whatever she wants to you? Her mind starts flying through the endless possibilities, eyes flickering over your body in hungry passes as she tries to make up her mind.

"First, lets take this off.."

Agatha tugs on your dress and you're eager to comply, she helps you pull down the zipper and your lift your hips up off the seat as the two of you get it over your head, leaving you in your underwear before her, laying on the cold leather seats.

She kneels between your spread legs, ghosting her hands over your soft thighs as she admires you spread out before her, your perfect, beautiful body lay ready for her to use however she pleases.

Agatha licks her lips before she leans down, leaving kisses all up your neck before moving down to your collarbone, littering it with more kisses that have you rubbing your thighs together before she moves downwards.

She eyes your breasts hungrily. Pushing the bra straps from your shoulders, she pulls the cups down and frees your chest, an excited sigh dropping past her lips as she dives in for them.

You immediately begin to whimper and squirm under her treatment, one hand eagerly pawing at your right breast while she runs her tongue all over your left, desperate to taste every inch of your skin.

Eventually she moves to your nipple, taking it into her mouth and eagerly sucking. You arch your back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the action. With a soft pop she releases the bud, running the tip of her tongue along it in apologetic passes.

She spends so long worshipping your breasts that your voice grows hoarse, eventually you're pawing and clawing at her desperately.

"Hm?"

Agatha asks, licking her lips as she raises her head from your chest, brown curls wild with how they're falling in disarray from her bun. You're shaking, whimpering pathetically.

"Please, please.. Touch me, Agatha..."

You hadn't noticed the tears that had welled in your eyes and she coos softly down at you, running her fingers along your cheek.

"I'm so sorry sweet girl.. I promise I'll take good care of you.."

She whispers the words apologetically against your cheek, leaving soft kisses on your skin. You nod your head before she continues downward, licking a stripe down your sternum before planting kisses on the soft skin of your tummy, dragging her lips over each of your hips as she hungrily kneads at your thighs.

The woman is crawling back on the seats, lowering herself so that she's between your thighs, licking her lips hungrily as she pulls your underwear to the side. You can't help but feel a bit flushed and embarrassed under her intense gaze, all while loving every second her adoring blue eyes are focused on you.

Immediately when her mouth latches onto your center, your eyes roll into the back of your head, your hands scrambling for purchase on the door behind you as you let out a loud, desperate moan.

"Shit.. Feels so good.."

You whimper, her mouth hot between your legs, messily running her tongue between your wet folds as she groans into you. It already feels so intense, and you know you won't last long as she begins to sloppily assault your clit.

The woman quickly figured out the question she had at the beginning of the night. This is exactly what she wants. A pretty little thing like you, so eager and pliant and willing to take whatever she gives.

It makes her shift, clenching her thighs at just how fucking turned on she is seeing you fall apart beneath her, for her. Every little moan, every word, every tremble and gasp and every bit of sweetness that spills between your thighs is all just for her in this moment, and she's hooked. She can't get enough

Agatha moves her hands to paw at the plush of your thighs, an ache growing between her legs she's never experienced before as she watches you whimper and moan out desperately for her.

Your features scrunch up, mouth hung open in pleasure as she alternates between sloppily sucking and running the flat of her tongue along the little bud.

She grins against you as she feels your thighs begin to tremble against the sides of her head, desperate, breathy noises spilling past your pretty lips as you scramble for purchase, your back arching with every jolt of pleasure that shoots through you.

She groans into you, thinking that she would be happy to suffocate between your soft thighs. As she digs her fingers into your hips and pulls you against her eager mouth, a gasp escaping your lips as the sound of your soft curses reach her ears.

The older woman leans back, and you nearly die at the sight of her pushing her wild brown hair out of her face with the back of her hand as she licks you off of her lips, humming at the taste.

She leans forward, pressing her cheek against your knee as she looks down at you with adoring blue eyes.

"Fuck, you're so pretty, baby.."

Agatha coos down at you, soft smile on her lips as she raises her fingers up to the wet mess between your thighs. You let out a desperate, wanton noise, scrambling to grab at her forearm as she drags her fingers through your folds, taking her sweet time to feel you and toy with you. Her eyes flicker over your glistening center to your pretty face, distorted with pleasure as you thrash against the seats.

"Are you doing okay, sweet girl?"

She asks mockingly, loving the feeling of your nails biting into her forearm. You twist beneath her, writhing in pleasure as you press the side of your face against the leather seat, hair spread in disarray like a halo around your head.

"Yes! Yes, please don't stop.. So good, Mommy.."

You sound so pathetic as the words escape your lips in a broken wheeze, and something snaps in Agatha when you call her that. She thought she couldn't get any more worked up and desperately horny then she already is but fuck, you keep surprising her.

"Call me that again.."

She demands, high on her power over you as she drags her soaked fingers back, carefully easing them into you. You groan out at the stretch, at the intrusion of her long, slender fingers easing you open and sliding deep inside of you.

"Mommy.. Please fuck me.. You're so good to me, Mommy, I need more.."

You didn't even hesitate to obey her, turning to look up at her with your wide, pretty eyes drunk on pleasure.

Your desperate, broken voice has her responding automatically to your pleas for her, carefully curling her long, slender finger as she fucks her hand into your sopping pussy. You're so wet and messy, there's a soft squelching noise with every thrust.

Agatha loves it. You whimper, embarrassed.

"M' sorry.. A-ah.."

You try to apologize, finding yourself unable as you throw your head back in pleasure, so sensitive under her calculated movements. She's smirking down at you, leaning forward and over you with her fingers still buried in your wet cunt.

"Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, angel.. You're absolutely perfect.."

She sighs against your neck, running her tongue along the column of your throat, enjoying the taste of your salty sweat on her tongue as she carefully slips a second finger into you. You let out a loud noise, hand flying to pull at the shirt on her back as she stretches you out, curling her fingers up to hit that sweet spot inside of you with every careful thrust.

"You got such a perfect pussy.. Mommy can't get enough.."

Agatha breathes the words hotly against your neck, her palm soaked with your arousal as she grinds it up against your clit, harshly rubbing against the little nub.

"O-oh! Shit! Fuck!"

You curse, the sensitivity getting to you. You curl your legs up and over her hips, pulling her down into you, as close as you can possibly get her and Agatha moans, her hand trapped inside of you between your two bodies as she grinds her palm against your sensitive clit.

She laughs breathily down at you before leaning down to pepper kisses up your jaw and across your pretty face.

"C'mon baby.. Be a good girl and cum for Mommy.."

The way she speaks those words so hotly against your ear, her warm breath fanning over your skin and words dripping with want and arousal, it's what tips you over the edge.

You let out a loud, broken moan as you wrap your arms around her back, pulling her tightly against you.

You throw your head back as the words burst past your lips in a desperate shout, your mind barely coherent as everything around you goes static and you seize up around the older woman.

"Oh! Mommy, cumming!"

Agatha groans at the sight of you, how you squeeze and drip around her fingers that are buried all the way to the last knuckle inside of your pussy, the heaving of your chest and how your pretty features contort in pleasure, mind numb and lost under the onslaught of pleasure that she gave you.. That she's responsible for.

Pride swells in her chest as she guides you through it, whispering soft little praises into your skin as you tremble and slowly come down from your high. With a deep gasp for air your legs fall numbly from around her waist, and Agatha leans back slightly to look at you as she carefully pulls her hand from you.

You laugh breathily, heaving for air as a wide smile crosses your features. Agatha smiles down at you as you raise your hand, pushing your messy hair from your features.

"Holy shit.. You're- wow."

You breathe out, dropping your hand to look up at her. She purses her lips proudly.

"Mmm.. I could say the same thing about you."

The older woman winks down at you, hair messy and sticking out at odd angles. Her stunning blue eyes are pinned right on you, and you don't think you could ever get enough of her gaze lingering on you.

"I barely did anything!"

You laugh and Agatha shakes her head.

"You were perfect."

Your heart swells at her words, and Agatha raises her hand. You flush at how soaked her fingers are, your arousal dripping down her palm and to her wrist. She raises it to her mouth, holding your gaze as she licks you off of her hand, dragging her tongue from her wrist, up her palm and to the tip of her fingers. Your chest heaves at the sight.

"You taste absolutely amazing."

She smirks down at you, and you smile sheepishly, pushing yourself up onto your forearms.

"Well.. Is there anything I can do to say thank you, Mommy?"

You bat your eyelashes at her sweetly, and her gaze flickers to your soft mouth, her mind running so far ahead of her with everything she wants to do with you that she can't keep up.

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 8

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: lando makes an appearance in this one. abusive language used, including sexist name calling. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 3.9k words a note: here it is babies!!! the last one in this series. i know it's been different from what i usually write, but this has been so much fun. extra special thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl as usual for beta reading and holding my hand at 2am when i wake up struck by an idea hahaha <3

Aftermath - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Aftermath - Chapter 5 Aftermath - Chapter 6Aftermath - Chapter 7 Master List

madmaxx1 posted

52 likes liked by ferrarisprince16, babyleclercpriv, jadebby, and others madmaxx1 pretty pretty girl ferrarisprince16 hey! so this is insane! >>>artiebartie yeah! stop thirsting over our sister >>>madmaxx1 never babyleclercpriv <3 jadebby god you two are so cute it's gross

missleclerc posted

missleclerc surprise! some new pieces are debuting at @/nessasgallery TONIGHT. I'll be there to discuss this new direction my art is going in along with what (and who) inspired me to try such a drastic new approach to painting. I hope you'll drop by and take a look, it would be lovely to see you! maxverstappen1 does this make me your muse??? >>>charlesleclerc hey! my car is up there right next to you! that means I'm a muse too! >>>missleclerc you two are ridiculous >>>user0298 uhhhhhhhh... user1029 ferrari and red bull without a mclaren in sight. iiiiiiinteresting >>>user1100 i think this is all the breakup confirmation we need user455 oh shes in LOVE LOVE with max >>>user444 oh this is so messy. i love it. give me 12 more seasons right now.

“If we don’t leave in the next ten minutes, we’re going to be late for your own event, pretty girl.” Max tuts at you from the doorway of your bedroom but there’s no bite behind his words. 

You glance up at him from your vanity where you’re sitting doing the last bits of your makeup. He looks heartbreakingly handsome in crisp white button-down underneath a tailored navy blue sport coat and matching slacks. His hair is combed neatly to the side, gelled into submission in a way that makes you want to rake your fingers through it just to muss it up. 

“I’m nearly ready, mister bossy pants.” You shoot back before switching off the light on the vanity and standing up. 

Max rolls his eyes but takes advantage of you walking towards him, smile on your face, and blatantly ogles you. The way the navy blue lacy dress hugs every dip and curve of your frame has Max checking his watch, wondering just how late you two could be without raising suspicion. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” You giggle, wrapping your arms around Max’s waist before pitching up onto your toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You were just scolding me that we can’t be late and then you come in here looking at me like that.” 

“It’s not my fault you look like a goddamn masterpiece in that dress.” He murmurs against your neck as he drags hot, open mouthed kisses down towards your collar bone. 

The way Max talks to you now, the reverent way he looks at you like you’re a piece of art in the most normal of situations, the way he always has to be touching you even with just the tips of his fingers, it’s everything you’ve ever craved from a relationship and everything you thought you didn’t deserve. 

Two weeks have passed since that night in your studio and while Max had to be gone for half of it for a race, one that you had solidly refused to attend until the dust between you and Lando settles a little more, it’s almost as if you two have been together for years now. The way you’ve slotted yourself into his life and Max into yours is so settling, so calming that you’ve caught yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’ve caught yourself waiting for him to behave like Lando, to push you away or do something that proves that Lando was right all along. 

Max knows you’ve been waiting for it so he’s made an extra effort to prove to you that it’s never going to happen. He knows you’re still healing, still recovering from what the British driver did to you so he hasn’t pushed. He hasn’t pushed to label whatever it is you two are to each other. It doesn’t matter to either of you because if you’re both in Monaco, you’re together. Max comes down to your apartment to watch while you cook dinner or you go up to his to cuddle on the couch and spend the night. It’s been a blissfully quiet time but you can both feel that private time coming to an end. 

The comments on your post from earlier had been mostly positive but it was pretty apparent fans had put two and two together. People knew you and Max were…something. They had figured out that a breakup had taken place even if nothing had officially been announced. You knew that once you arrived to the gallery tonight, hand in hand with Max, that was all it was going to take to confirm to the public that you and Lando were over and you had moved on. 

The thought of what Lando might do after he sees the coverage of tonight, and you know there will be coverage, has anxiety sitting heavy on your shoulders. Max clocks it instantly, shaking his head. He reads you so easily now, he always has but since that night in your studio, he’s been even more in tune with you and your moods. 

“Don’t go there. It’s going to be fine. Everyone who loves you, who matters, is going to be there and we won’t let anything or anyone ruin tonight, okay?” 

You nod, attempting to tamp down the anxiety that blooms hotly in your chest. You hated how much control Lando still had over you sometimes but you were getting better, bit by bit. “Thank you.” You whisper, nuzzling into the crook of Max’s neck while inhaling the scent of his cologne. 

“I have something for you.” Max murmurs into your hair in an obvious attempt to distract you. 

You pull back, eyes sparkling up at him. “You do?” 

Distraction successful. 

Max reaches into the back pocket of his slacks and pulls out a rectangular velvet box. You blink up at him in confusion. “Max…” 

“It’s just something small to show you how proud I am of you, how wildly in love I am with you.” He says, the words skittering up your spine before settling deep in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never been loved in the way Max loves you and it’s always seemingly knocking you off your center. “Go on, open it.” He whispers, watching as you turn the velvet box over in your hands. 

The hinges on the box whisper open and you’re momentarily speechless when you see what is nestled in the black satin. A diamond tennis necklace winks up at you with dozens of brilliant cut diamonds set in what looks to be platinum, stealing the very breath from your lungs. The stone that sits nestled in the center though is what renders you completely speechless. A large emerald cut brilliant blue sapphire stone sits in the middle of the necklace, the color a perfect match to the navy blue of Max’s Formula 1 car. 

“Max.” You whisper, unable to find any other words beyond his name. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, eyes searching yours earnestly, looking for approval in your face. 

“It’s…” The words to describe the beauty of the piece sitting heavy in your hands escapes you. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, a small, involuntary gasp escaping your lips. The diamonds, so bright they seem to shimmer with the captured light, blur and swim together as tears prick at your eyes. “Max,” You manage again, your voice thick with emotion that you struggle to get a handle on. “It’s breathtaking.” 

He reaches for the necklace, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a surge of pleasure down your spine. His touch, simple as it is, is familiar but charged with a new intensity. He lifts the delicate chain, the cool metal a stark contrast against the warmth of his skin, and fastens it around your neck after you spin for him while lifting your hair out of the way. The weight of the piece settles against your skin, a physical reminder of his affection, his love for you. Love. The word echoes int he quiet space of your mind, a sound so heavy but exhilarating that it has fresh tears threatening to spill over. 

“Turn around.” He murmurs, voice husky. Max takes a step back, eyes raking over you, a slow appreciative burn in their blue depths. 

You obey, your movements a little stiff and unsure. As you turn, the sapphire catches the light, flashing a vibrant, rich blue against the pale glow of your skin. You spot your reflection in the mirror across the room just as you turn back to face Max and your breath catches again. The necklace transforms your outfit into something extraordinary. It’s not just beautiful, it’s…meaningful. It’s a symbol of his belief in you, his pride in being with you, his acceptance of you, flaws and all.

 It’s a promise, whispered against your skin. 

“It’s too much.” You whisper, the words barely audible. The sheer extravagance of the gift, the depth of the emotion behind it, is almost too overwhelming. 

Max steps closer, his hands slipping around your waist as he pulls you against his body. “It’s not too much.” He says, his voice gentle but firm. “You deserve the world, everything beautiful and bright and good. And this?” He gestures to the necklace clasped around your neck, the sapphire resting in the hollow of your throat, “This is just a small token of my love.” 

“Thank you.” You whisper, the words wholly inadequate and insufficient to describe the way your stomach is swirling with emotion but it’s all you can manage in the face of such overwhelming emotion. You reach up, your fingers tracing the cool surface of the center stone. It feels like a piece of him, a tangible representation of the connection you both share. And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet him of unspoken emotion, you know that whatever happens tonight, whatever Lando might do to ruin the night or in the future, you’re not alone. You have Max. And that, you realize, is more precious than any piece of jewelry that Max could ever give you. 

f1.gossip.news posted

f1.gossip.news in a move that shocked...absolutely no one, charles leclerc's little sister stepped out hand in hand with new flame max verstappen tonight. while her and lando never officially announced their split, we've all seen the writing on the wall. her insta post announcing her new artwork debuting tonight featuring the red bull driver was all the confirmation we needed that her and the mclaren driver are dunzoooo. what do we think, chat??? user7575 she is GLOWING! good for her. >>>user0209 seriously, i haven't seen her or max look this happy in ages. user3221 i can hear the dishes breaking in lando's apartment from here in london >>>user0202 seriously. imagine losing the championship last year AND THEN YOUR GIRL to max verstappen. WHEEEEW BOY. user1992 this is so messy. i love it.

The light from the gallery spills out onto the sidewalk, casting a golden glow out into the street that guides you and Max towards it’s doors. It doesn’t escape your notice that the last time you walked down this sidewalk at night towards Nessa’s gallery for a show of yours, you were alone and desperately sad. 

Tonight though? Tonight is completely different. Your arm is tucked securely in Max’s elbow as he walks with towards the gallery with you after dropping the car off with the valet. The necklace he’d given you that night sits securely around your throat, an outwardly sign of the budding relationship between you two. As you approach the gallery, you see your brothers waiting for you but this time, all of their significant others are also waiting for you as well. 

Charles is the first one to intercept you, catching you up in a tight hug before whispering how lovely you look tonight in your ear. You’re passed first to Arthur and finally to Lorenzo, who makes a joke about the rock around your neck. Through it all, Max sits back quietly, watching you glow under the attention of your brothers. Jade, Alexandra, and Charlotte all make a fuss over your outfit and paw at the necklace, swooning over how it practically sparkles under the gallery lights. 

When you finally make it into the gallery, there are dozens of people already there. Nessa sees you walk through the door first and pounces on you instantly. 

“My darling!” She coos, wrapping you up in her arms and squeezing you tightly. “You are shimmering with happiness.” She comments, eyes darting to where Max stands behind you, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he talks with Charles and Arthur. “And I suppose we have that man to thank for that.” 

“Partly.” You agree, but you know it’s more than that. You feel as though you’ve been given a second chance tonight. You were so close to losing everything, to succumbing to everything that Lando had put you through over the last three years that this first night out feels like your first taste of what life should feel like. You knew you had Max to thank for a lot of that, but it also wasn’t lost on you how much you had also fought to be there for yourself. “I’ve done a lot of work on myself the last few months too.” 

Nessa nods, running a protective hand up and down your bare arms. “I know, your art has changed! It feels lighter but also there’s so much more depth to it. I’ve had several inquiries about the one of your man after Brazil.” She says, eyes alright with dollar signs. 

“Unfortunately, that one is already sold.” Max cuts in, slipping his arm around your waist before handing you a glass of red wine. 

You startle, not realizing that you had already sold a piece so early on in the night. “It is?” 

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. “I came in yesterday afternoon while you were taking a nap and bought it.” 

Your head snaps to Nessa, looking for confirmation. “Paid twice my asking price.” She murmurs, smirk playing at her ruby red lips. Traditionally, she never sold a piece before it was debuted but Max had been persuasive and insisted on locking down the piece without you knowing before hand. 

“Max!” You hiss, bumping a shoulder into his. “I would have just given it to you if you’d asked! I was planning on doing that anyway!” 

Max shrugs, small smile on his face. “I wanted to make sure no one beat me to it. And of course I paid for it! Allow my girl to give her work away for free? Just because I’m the muse doesn’t mean I get special treatment.” 

You’re fairly certain you blush deeper a deep red than the scarlet of your brother’s Ferrari at the praise Max heaps on you. Nessa hides a knowing grin behind her own wine glass before excusing herself to go talk to a client that had just walked in. 

Max and you are left alone in the center of the room and for a moment, the silence that settles over you two is a comforting blanket. It’s not hurried or anxious, the energy between you tonight. It’s a calm, steady thrum of energy that passes easily from Max to you without having to do much more than exchange a glance or quick brush of fingertip against bare skin. You watch your family swirl around the room, each gently checking in on you in their own time as they mingle and you feel yourself relax into the vibe of the evening. 

You’re two glasses in and having a hushed conversation with Jade as Max stands beside you, backs to the door, when a sudden tension snaps through the gallery. On the opposite side of the room, the door at the front of the gallery snaps just a touch too loudly, pulling your attention in that direction. 

The figure that stands just inside the gallery sends your stomach dropping through your toes. 

“Shit.” Beside you, Max’s hand finds yours and he instinctively shifts to put himself between the rest of the gallery and yourself. 

You knew this was going to happen. You had felt it in your bones tonight as you had gotten ready. You knew that Lando would never let you have this. Knew deep down that he’d never let you fully get away from him without having the last word. If there was one thing that Lando couldn’t stand, it was being made a fool of. And you knew that showing up here tonight on Max’s arm, wearing Max’s jewels would set him off. 

You deserved what was coming. 

You try frantically to step around Max, feeling the need to absorb the fire you knew Lando was going to spew everywhere. But Max won’t allow it. Without a single glance in your direction, Max shifts his weight once again and you find yourself even further away from Lando now. Somewhere to your left, you sense Charles and Arthur step in front of you two and you’re certain Lorenzo is around somewhere. 

“Typical LeClerc behavior. Hiding behind others who are more powerful than you in order to save face. Learned from the best, didn’t you baby?” The venom in Lando’s voice sinks it’s claws into your bloodstream, threatening to drag you under. 

Around you, conversations cease instantly, all attention on the scene happening in the corner of the room. 

You weren’t going to let Lando win this though. You were done giving him the power to control you, done dodging the confrontation in an attempt to quietly end things between you. He just wasn’t getting the hint and if he was going to behave like this, then fine. You were fed up. 

Pushing through Max and Charles, you stand in front of your ex-boyfriend, head held high. “Lando, this is neither the time nor the place to do this.” Your voice is deceptively calm, not giving away a bit of the fear that trembles just below the surface. 

Lando sneers, rolling his eyes and then his gaze snags on the necklace at your throat. The navy blue stone catches the light, winking over at him with an antagonizing shimmer. He takes half a step closer and you feel Max shift again, but this time he comes to stand beside you instead of in front of you. 

“Wearing his collar already, huh?” He bites out. A chorus of gasps ripple through the gallery but you just tip your chin up higher, used to his attempts at humiliation. Lando’s gaze shifts to Max beside you and a cruel smile curls at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me, Verstappen. Does she still make that little cooing noise right before she comes? It was always the sweetest little sound, you know the one I’m talking about, right?” 

Humiliation burns through you, hot and bright as Max reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. Another ripple of disbelief peppers through the crowd but Max barely blinks. “You know, I’ve never heard her make that particular sound.” He pauses and Lando’s face lights up in a brilliant smile, as if he’s won. “Usually, she’s too busy screaming my name when I make her come though so she’s never been one to make quiet little sounds with me.” 

Silence. 

“I always knew you were a cheating whore.” 

A sickening crack rings out in the otherwise silent room as your brother’s fist connects squarely with Lando’s jaw. 

“Charles!” You gasp, hand flying to your throat as you watch Lando stagger back. 

Charles shakes out his hand, received to be able to move all of his fingers. He can’t imagine that call to Maranello going well if he’d had to phone about a broken hand. 

“Keep my sister’s name out of your filthy fucking mouth, you piece of trash.” Charles spits, voice a mask of sheer deathly calm.

Max steps forward, a silent demand for order radiating from the way he stands. “Enough.” His voice is unwaveringly calm as he watches Lando struggle to his feet, clutching at his left eye where a deep blue bruise is already blooming. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the police. I don’t think Zak would be to happy to hear about tonight’s shenanigans or enjoy having to read the media coverage after his star driver gets arrested for harassment.” Max takes half a step towards Lando and you enjoy the way the Brit scrambles away. “If you so much as sneeze in her direction ever again, I will make it my life’s mission to see your entire life ruined, Norris.” Max is practically nose to nose with Lando now, his glare cutting down your ex-boyfriend so he appears about two inches tall. “Are. We. Clear?” 

****

Later that night, Max startles awake, unsurprised to find himself alone in your bed. He knew you were restless tonight. It had taken him nearly twice as long as it usually did for him to pull your body to release underneath him. And after, when you had tumbled head first into sleep, naked beside him, you weren’t settled like you usually were when you slept beside him. 

So no, he wasn’t surprised to find you gone and the bed long cold beside him. 

Pulling on a pair of boxers, Max wanders into your spare bedroom that’s morphed into somewhat of a second studio space. He finds you exactly where he expects you: facing away from him sitting in front of a half finished canvas. You’re bathed in a brilliant blue moonlight, wearing nothing but his white dress shirt from earlier and his necklace you still haven’t removed. 

“Come back to bed, my love.” He murmurs into the crook of your neck as you drop your head onto his, sinking into the warmth of his embrace. 

A soft sound of agreement hums in the back of your throat as you place the brush on the table beside you. Max is a touch surprised with how pliant you are, instantly following his suggestion without much fight but he also knows today took a lot out of you and the thing you sometimes craved was the ability to shut it all off. 

“I wasn’t getting much work done anyway.” You murmur, standing and leaning into his embrace even more. The room is chilly anyway and you find yourself needing Max’s touch more than anything else in that moment. 

You allow Max to tug you out the door towards your bedroom, knowing that he’s able to read you perfectly. He doesn’t rush you though. He lets you linger for a moment in the doorway, your gaze snagging lightly on the painting behind you. It’s a gorgeous landscape that you’re known for, something you haven’t been able to paint in what feels like a lifetime. The moonlight paints silver streaks across the floor, illuminating the painting that you had spent the last hour just starting at. It’s a peaceful scene, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had filled your day. A small, contented sigh escapes your lips and Max squeezes your hand just enough to pull your attention back to him. 

Once back in the bedroom, the chill of the room sends a shiver down your spine. Max, ever attentive, pulls back the covers, gesturing for you to climb in first. He watches as you curl up on your side, tucking your knees up in towards your chest. The white shirt slips off your body, revealing the delicate curve of your spine. He slides in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Max reaches out, his hand finding the curve of your hip and gently pulls you closer until your back is flush against his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach. 

You melt into his touch, the warmth of his body radiating through you. His breath is warm against the back of your neck and the steady rhythm of his heart is a soothing lullaby you’ve come to depend on at night. The events of earlier linger in the back of your mind, but here, in Max’s arms they start to feel a little more distant, muffled almost. He kisses the nape of your neck softly, a quiet reminder of his constant presence in your life now, how he’ll never allow you to be alone of face anything by yourself anymore. 

“Better?” He whispers, voice low and rumbling against your bare skin. 

“Mm-hmm” You hum, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You reach down and take his hand that sits on your belly, intertwining your fingers with his. The simple act of holding his hand grounds you, reminding you that you’re not alone anymore. You turn slightly in his arms, just enough to look up at him. His eyes, even in the dim light of the bedroom, are filled with tenderness and understanding. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 

Max smiles, a soft, reassuring smile that makes your heart ache in the best way. “For what, liefje?” His Dutch accent is thick now, as it gets when he’s tired and emotional. 

“For everything.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “For being here. For understanding. For taking care of me.” 

He pulls you closer, his hold tighenying slightly. “Always.” He murmurs against your lips. “Always and forever, my love.” 

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you know that no matter what happens next, you and Max will face it together. This, right here, in his arms, is your happy ending that you’ve been chasing after your entire life. 

Tag list:

@shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164

[mantou-rin]

Midnights With You

Prompt: You can't sleep and your boyfriend's lap looks too comfortable

Characters: Kozume Kenma, Reader

Genre: Fluff, comfort?

Word count: 551

A/N: I wrote this at work so please do not expect much, I'm just here to fuel your delusions. Also I didn't proofread this so I'm sorry if there are any errors

Aside from the clicking sounds of a keyboard, the room was otherwise silent. You lay aimlessly on the bed as you scrolled through your phone, your eyes taking in the various contents social media had to offer. 

It was pushing 2am, and you knew very well that you should be going to bed soon, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep for some reason. 

Looking up from your phone, you took in the sight of your boyfriend focused on the computer screen, his fingers moving expertly across the keyboard as he played his game. 

Right. He did tell you there was a new update today so that was probably why he was so set on playing it tonight. 

The lights at his table had been dimmed to a comfortable setting, one which he knew you had no problem falling asleep to. He was also a quiet gamer for the most part, so why was it you couldn’t fall asleep? 

Perhaps there was a lingering feeling of you wanting to spend more time with him, but the two of you had already been out the whole day - both of you visited a cat cafe this morning and proceeded to go to a gaming pop-up exhibition that he had been looking forward to for weeks. You acknowledged that he had spent a good chunk of his time with you, and you also understood that he needed his alone time to wind down, which is why you didn't object when he told you he wanted to spend the night gaming. 

So why were you being so needy right now? 

You found your body moving unconsciously, and before you knew it, you were standing by your boyfriend’s side. He sensed your presence and immediately looked up from his game, his eyes meeting yours. Just a quick glance and he could tell you were exhausted, your shoulders were slumped and your eyes were about to close. Given he was smart, so he also concluded that somehow you had problems falling asleep despite the optimal environment he set for you. 

Naturally he removed his headphones and adjusted his position in a way that you had easy access to his lap. He gestured for you to come take a seat and you felt your body falling into his, your head finding a comfortable position on his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“Kenma…” you mumbled. 

You felt one of his hands rubbing circles on your back, while the other held your head close to him. You felt so comfortable it was almost therapeutic. 

Kenma went back to his game shortly after, and you could vaguely feel his arms moving, but his body was relaxed. 

“He must be winning right now” you thought to yourself. 

You weren't sure how long more you stayed awake, but you remembered falling asleep soon after - which was unfortunate because Kenma wore the faintest smile on his face and his cheeks were tinted a soft pink, a rare sight which you were not able to witness. 

“I guess the gaming can wait” Kenma softly mumbled to himself before turning off the computer. Gently his hands found themselves in the same position as before - one hugging you tight and the other holding your head close to him.

Very soon he too, fell asleep. 

[fairyhaos]

◈ the worst day of the week // choi seungcheol

seungcheol x gn!reader, 1.2k+ words

tags: requested by anon, fluff, established relationship, slight hurt/comfort, soooo domestic oof

warnings: pet names (baby), reader eats cereal at 2am

summary: everyone has days where they don't want to go to work. for you, it happens every monday, but fortunately, you have a lovely boyfriend who will do anything to make you smile, even on your worst days.

“What are you doing?”

You flinch at the stern words that sound over your shoulder, and pause with your hand held midair. You can't turn around, frozen in place. 

“Um.” You swallow nervously. “Nothing?”

There's a tense silence, and you can hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as you breathe slowly, too afraid to make any more noise. The person is still standing behind you, a looming presence, and maybe, if you hold still for long enough, then they might end up going away—

Seungcheol sighs, and walks around the kitchen table until he's facing you. “Y/N. What are you doing?”

Your shoulders slump as your boyfriend's face comes into view, his hair all sleep-mussed and his eyes droopy with drowsiness. But his gaze is focused on you, the disapproving turn of his lips clear even in the faint light provided by the lamp in the corner of the kitchen. 

Weakly, you attempt a smile. “I'm having a bowl of cereal?”

Seungcheol blinks. A long, slow, unimpressed blink. “You're having a bowl of cereal at two in the morning?”

“Yeah. It's like… the new ‘it’ thing. Everyone's doing it.”

He raises an eyebrow. You slowly shove another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

“No, they're not,” Seungcheol says, and with a sigh, tries to reach over and pull the bowl away from you. “Y/N, baby—”

“Hey, no, don't take my cereal away,” you protest, grappling for the cereal and tugging it towards you before he can take it away. Seungcheol frowns disapprovingly, and you wilt a little. “It'll go all soggy if I don't have it now. I need to eat it.”

“You need to sleep,” he returns firmly, and then sighs again. “Y/N, it's two in the morning, and you have work later. Why are you awake, and eating cereal? You don't even like this kind of cereal.”

He's right, and you don't, because it's the tasteless variety that grates irritatingly against your gums but you just needed something to do, because it's a Monday tomorrow and it's literally the worst day of the week and you don't want Monday to come. 

Well. Technically, it's already Monday. But thinking about it like that makes you feel even more terrible, the little worms digging even uglier holes into your stomach, and you grimace. 

So that's why you're awake now, shoving tasteless, soggy cereal into your mouth because you don't want to go to bed. 

Seungcheol regards you with sad eyes, like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

Knowing him, you think sulkily, he probably really does.

He doesn’t say anything, though, and just continues watching you with those sad eyes as you slowly eat your cereal. His gaze makes you feel strangely guilty, heart twisting weirdly in your chest as you eat, feeling like you’re doing something wrong.

By the time you finish, your boyfriend still hasn’t said a word, but he does pinch your cheek fondly and take the bowl from you once you set down your spoon.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, and he's looking at you with those big, earnest eyes, the sincerity and warmth making his gaze meltingly soft even in the darkness of the room. When you hesitate to answer, his eyes seem to melt even more. “Do you want a hug?”

And oh, there's something about the way he says it that makes you begin to tear up, feeling so overwhelmingly comforted by his voice. 

“Oh, baby…”

Before you know it, he's gotten up from the table, walked over to you, pulled your chair back and enveloped you in a hug. 

He's wearing one of his oversized hoodies, and the material is soft under your fingers as you cling to his shoulders, burying yourself into the crook of his neck as he holds you securely. He just smells so much like him, all gentle and kind and willing to be there for you and all your worries and fears about the dreaded day ahead of you make you dissolve, kitten-weak, into his arms. 

“Shh, don't worry baby,” Seungcheol murmurs, still bent over you, hands rubbing secure circles into your back as you cry. “Don't worry. It's okay, shhh, don't cry, I'm here. I'm here for you.”

It only makes you cry harder, hearing the care in his voice, but Seungcheol doesn't seem to mind. He stays over you, hugging you, until your tears begin to subside, and then he helps you out of the uncomfortable kitchen chair, one hand around your waist and the other keeping your fingers interlaced with his own as he guides you out and up the stairs, back to your room again. 

He's gentle, the entire way, whispering words of comfort and pressing reassuring kisses to your temple as he helps you up the stairs. 

“There we go, that's it, I love you,” he says softly, when you make it up the final step. He squeezes your hand, once. “I love you.”

He's babying you, even more than his normal boyfriend-level of Doting™, but you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed about it, more focused on how nice it feels to be held by him, to be treated so delicately. And even when your nose is still running and your eyes feel all horribly swollen, Seungcheol still calls you beautiful, still says he loves you. 

“Here we are,” he says, smiling, as he tucks you into bed before moving round to the other side to climb in himself. “Rest, baby. You need to sleep now.”

You mumble something, incoherent even to yourself. Seungcheol just chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. 

“Rest,” he repeats, the word warm against your cheek as he kisses you again. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” you say, a little drowsy. A beat. “Still don't wanna go to work t'morrow.”

Seungcheol chuckles again. “I know, baby. But I'll be here when you come back home, you know? You won't be at work forever. I promise.”

“Mhm. Feels like forever, though.”

“Maybe.” Seungcheol is silent for a moment, thoughtful. “How about this. After work tomorrow, we'll go out on a date.”

You look over at him. “A date? On a Monday?”

“Just a small one,” Seungcheol says, and you can see his mildly embarrassed smile, even in the dimness of the room. “It'll give you something to look forward to, no?”

It certainly would. You can't help but smile, a blush creeping up on your cheeks because he just somehow makes you feel so loved even when he's smiling bashfully at 2am on the absolutely worst day of the entire week. 

“Yeah,” you say, and roll over to snuggle into him, rubbing at your swollen eyes until they feel a little better, relaxing into him with a contented sigh. “Thank you, Cheol.”

“Of course, baby,” Seungcheol says, and then presses another kiss to the top of your head, gathering you in his arms. 

You look up at him, and with your eyes, you trace the adoration on his face even in the darkness. You smile. 

“I love you.”

Seungcheol squeezes you against him, and kisses your forehead yet again, his lips as warm and soft as the gentlest of promises.

“I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @kikohao

[kamospeach]

told you i like gentle giants so you softened up .ᐟ

plot: ceo!sukuna and the woman he was forced to marry finally learning to get along.

content warning: none at all. it's not 18+ but if i make a fic it will be.

peachy's yap: i wanna make this into a fic but im not 100% sure yet, lmk ! no smut just a small fluff to test out the waters. one last one shot coming until i go on a lil break.

this wasn't what you wanted at all. ever since you were a little girl you planned to get married to a caring man. years later give birth to a love child hold he or she in your arms as you and your loving husband smiled at one another.

that dream was gone now and here you were a year after your wedding. terrified to even knock on the door of his study knowing his temper was off the wall at the moment. when you were cooped up in your hobby room you could hear him barking orders. while you sat in silence writing novel after novel he forbade you to publish.

this was your everyday, wake up alone, eat alone, write alone, shower alone, watch movies alone, and even go to sleep alone. he was in his study night and day until his hefty body slipped into your shared bed waking you at 2am. he didn't bother to apologize he just turned away going to sleep himself. and yet you found yourself wanting to be close to sukuna.

you sighed already knowing the conversation you both were bound to have today... just like every month for the last year. you were given to him for your writing and negotiating skills. his father the previous boss offered to pay your father millions to suspend the contract at your job for you to work for them. all for money. you raised your hand knocing on the wretched door.

you and sukuna moved into this house 6 months ago and it felt like you'd been locked away in a tower. although sukuna never listened to your ideas or let you have your way about anything he left the house details to you. he stood back as you worked with the sketchy architect who purposely looked down your blouse (his words).

he let you pick out the number of rooms, and bathrooms. the ceiling height, the shape of the pool, even how many patio chairs you wanted. he let you decorate the house pick the colors, even would let you throw splashes of pink and purple where ever you pleased. but you never did it, you didn't want to do it if not with sukuna.

but to sukuna none of this mattered because his work was more important. in his words he said 'i'll let you deal with less important matters. at least im positive you won't fuck that up.' did that statement hurt? hell yeah but even then you still wanted to be close to him.

"s...sukuna?" you stuttered waiting to hear his gruff voice.

"get in here." he said sternly and you pushed the heavy doors open, struggling at the weight. once you pushed in you stood by the door hands behind your back fingers laced. "sit." he said pointing to the chair in front of his desk and you scurry not wanting to anger him.

"i'm sorry i didn't come sooner i was writing and i had a idea i couldn't lose." you plead his eyes never left yours. he face expression neither annoyed nor pleased.

"why must you continue writing, when you have a duty to fulfill here." he grumbled and you looked down at your thumbs.

"sukuna you wont let me go with you to negotiate that's all m'good for." you say and he scoffs at your excuse.

"you are here to write contracts and negotiate deals you have not done any of that over the last year!" he said his voice raising, by no means were you a push over. scared of this big, brolic, hunk definitely but one thing you'll never be is a punk.

"you have yet to assign me any work. i know what you'll say 'you should come ask me if there's anything to do' but you are my boss. you instruct i follow, i refuse to do anything for you if you can not request it on your own." your reply was calm, you didn't want to anger him further.

"i don't want to overwhelm you," he sighs. his strict facade dropping as he handed you papers and you hum. looking down at the papers it was full of stats and numbers that made your head spin. "this is everyday work for me, i need your help but i must figure it out alone."

"the numbers are a bit crazy but it's not much to find a way to make a deal that'll pretty up the numbers." you tell him and he nods.

"how?" he asked and you looked up at him. this was the first time sukuna had asked for your help. you were shocked that he even let you know that he needed help.

"i mean your the statistics man. once you work out the numbers we can talk negotiating." you tell him with a smile hoping the sly compliment of him being good with numbers didn't slip past him. his red eyes looked up at you through his thick lashes. the corner of his lips tugging upwards as if he wanted to smile and couldn't.

this day was the first day you sat next to sukuna behind his desk. your knees touched and even that amount of contact was enough for you. you helped him clean up his desk and he didn't object he just said 'make sure you put them where i tell you'. and you did picking up the papers on his desk and organizing them for him. placing them in different stacks based off who and what they were from.

little did you know sukuna admired your every move. he watched how you walked around his office complaining about how dull it was. how your curls bounced with every step you took. he watched you search up paint colors and decor for his office. not once did this distract him, he either hummed in agreement or disagreement as he worked on the numbers.

even days later the connection between sukuna and you began to grow. he listened to your opinions and even stepped out of his office during the day. he came to your writing room to sit and drink coffee with you at 3am when you felt like you had a good idea. he even showed you the room you called the 'junk room' that was quite literally filled with sukuna's junk. he pulled out an electric guitar bragging about how it was signed by one of the best.

he tells you the name as you face scrunches up in confusion never hearing of this man ever. but even your disinterest in that didn't deter his sheer audacity and gall. he called you a degenerate and said you were a bug under a rock. you replied with 'more like a boulder' as you looked him up and down judgingly.

this comment made sukuna laugh, yes actually laugh. from that day you never held in a joke, letting anything on your mind loose. sometimes sukuna would look at you as if you said the stupidest shit on earth. most times he'd shake his head with an endearing smile but 2 times out of 10 he'd laugh.

day after day the more time you spent with sukuna the more you were pulled out of the depression. you watched movies of families with a smile even thinking about having a child with that demon.

in return sukuna became more comfortable approaching you. initially he was scared to anger you or say something that would hurt your feelings. heeding his father's warning 'don't talk to her too much. you know how you are, you'll hurt her feelings.' so he listened avoided starting conversation, leaving the bed before you woke up and coming in after you fell asleep. ate in his office and never ever entered your writing room.

that day you came in and told him he was your boss changed his brain chemistry. his father was wrong, he wouldn't hurt your feelings because you wanted him to act like your boss. you could dish it out and take it. that day was when sukuna thought to himself 'i could really get used to this'.

that's why after a month of the two of finally getting along sukuna instructed you to meet him at the dining table. dining table was a stretch as it only had 2 chairs. as you waited for him assuming it was about work you were shocked for sukuna to slam down your houses floorplan.

"it's about time we made this house into a home don't ya think?" he asked looking at you and you smiled. and the two of you sat there all night you sipping on a shirley temple and he drank whiskey. he promised he'd make you cocktails from now on since you found out he was a bartender for all of 3 months.

you planned and brainstormed until the next morning. you were leaned on the table drool coming out of your mouth. sukuna smiled at how comfortable you had became around him. he lifted you and carried you up the stairs. that was the first day sukuna felt like he was really a husband. that day was when sukuna swore to himself that he would be a husband.

[eviiesstuff]

"You say it's big, but you take it."

Hi loves, this is my first time properly writing one of these, so feedback is totally welcomed. I take requests if you have anything specific for the next one, and it would be appreciated so I have more inspo on what to write, so feel free to leave one. Hope you enjoy! :)

!Minors DNI!! 18+ mature content!

Your new partner Joel is all you could possibly want and more. But he becomes even more to you when you see what he hasn't shown you yet.

Warnings;

(ingestion of alcohol, swearing, sexual/dirty talk, smut, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex)

(No Outbreak Joel, Sarah is not present in this scenario)

The smell of fresh air compared to the sweaty and sticky air in the club was almost god-given as you stepped outside, a cold breeze fluttering against you, cooling the damp and hot skin.

Time had flown by, and 2am had approached. You weren't the type to abandon your friends, but after they became too drunk to function and nearly threw their own guts up on your shoes, you simply called them an uber hoping at least one of them were sober enough to direct the group into the car. You watched as they drunkenly piled into the car, babbling on that they would pay you for the ride. They weren't going to be anytime soon.

You sighed, watching the Uber pull away into the road and disappearing down the street. You would've gladly hopped in if there was room, but unfortunately not.

"fuck," you cursed quietly.

Home was nearly half an hour away, and by the god awful feeling of the ache in your heels. It was clear that the walk back was not happening, and neither was the 175 dollars you would have to pay for an Uber home as it was so late. Your fingers worried over the hem of your dress, thinking of a solution to your current lack of transport.

Joel.

Was it too late to call? 2am might be a stretch for him. Your thumb hovered over his contact on the phone screen after you entered the phone app, but you clicked on it anyway, not like you had any other choice at this point. The trill of the calling sound had happened many times, and hope was slowly easing away after each ring came and went.

"Hello?" His voice sounded somehow lower than usual, seemingly full of fatigue. A sense of relief came over you as his voice filled your ear. "Hey, I didn't wake you, did I?" You answered with an edge of worry to your voice.

"s' all good sweetheart, what's wrong?" he replied, his choice of gentle tone putting you at ease. You paused, biting down harshly at the skin of your lip. "I know it's late, but I'm kinda stuck outside the bar with no way to get home.."

"Y' need me to come n get you?" he practically finished for you, "Yeah basically," you offered.

A soft grunt came from his end of the line, like he was getting out of bed. "Send me your location, I'll come n get you," he said after a short moment. A smile spread to your lips. "Thanks," you whispered.

"You got it baby," he replied before the call was abruptly ended. You finished messaging him with your location before you clicked the phone off. Minutes passed, the ache of your feet grew in your heels, as well as the shiver from the briskly chilled air. It didn't take longer than 15 minutes to pass before you recognised a certain shined navy pick-up beginning to slow down as it advanced towards the side walk outside the bar.

You slowly walked over as it came to a stop, watching as Joel leaned over the centre console to open the passenger door before you got there, to which you happily slid into the leather seat, taking in the heat of the car gratefully. "Late night?" he asked with a smidge of amusement at your look of slightly drunken drowsiness. "Clearly," you muttered, leaning your head back against the leather rest behind you, eager to feel the relief of sitting in a warm space. You heard him huff a laugh, "alright just askin' " he protested. A hand came to your dress covered thigh, though you could still feel the heat from Joel's skin over the fabric. Watching his strong hand softly squeeze the flesh there, fingers flexing and moulding around the skin, the veins present on the back of his hand bulging more than usual. The feeling and the sight makes something stir quietly inside of you.

His grip doesn't waver when the truck pulls away from its parking space. "Yours or mine?" You hear him ask in a murmur.

"Yours."

The car ride can't seem to get any faster, as if it wants you to feel even more tortured. Joel's hand hasn't left its place since it got there, fingers grazing slightly higher, bringing the hem of your dress with it, causing the skin of your upper thigh to appear. His thumb dares to push its way between your inner thigh, dragging it in a sweeping motion against the skin absentmindedly. Your eyes flicker to him, gazing at his stern side profile as he drives, staring at the curve of his nose, and the sharpness to his stubble covered jaw, which clenches every now and again.

His thumb trails between your two legs, rubbing at the skin on the inside of your thigh, and you dare to squeeze the both of them together. It's as if he doesn't notice, or he simply isn't fazed when you do. His hand annoyingly doesn't move any further, and disappointment clouds your mind. Its as if he knows your thinking about it, can't help not teasing you in the process. He side eyes you, noticing your defeated expression, and the corner of his lip tugs upwards into a subtle side smirk, turning back to the view of the road.

You thank the Lord as his driveway and house come into view, and he pulls up infront of the garage. You breathe a sigh of relief as he retreats to get out the truck. However you immediately miss the warm feeling of his hand on your skin. The passenger door opens, and his hand is on you again, placing itself on the small of your back to guide you up the driveway. "Thanks for pickin me up," you whispered against his firm shoulder, resting your cheek against the soft sleeve of the t shirt he sported. His lips came to your temple, and you closed your eyes, feeling the sensation of him pressing a chaste kiss against it. "No problem baby," he replied, the soft vibration of his drawl in your ear making you nearly shiver.

The scent of wood faintly fills your nose once the both of you step inside, and you take notice of the crackling flames inside the Woodburner pride of place against the wall of the living room. Joel's house always felt comfortable, the man loved his wood burning.

You shrug off your jacket, and it's placed on the sofas arm. "Y' have a good time?". Joel is buisied in the kitchen, pouring an amber liquid into a thick glass. "Yeah," you replied slightly dazed. You simply watched, shamlessly staring at his back which looked as broad and imposing as ever, the rolled sleeves of his shirt struggling to hold in the muscle beneath, the skin slightly bulging out of the hem.

Everything about him was just so big. You'd thought a shameful amount of times about how big he could be elsewhere, but those thoughts had been passed to the back of your mind. Sure, you and Joel had fooled around, but it was early days in what you had going on. You were yet to discover other things about him, that you wished you knew, you really wished you knew.

After finishing the alcohol in a matter of seconds, he turned away from the counter, and you averted your eyes from his muscles. Your head gradually tilted upwards as he came nearer. Soon enough his hands braced at your waist, sliding one to your back as his eyes fell to your face. "Y' wanna go to bed?" he murmured, his eyes flickering all over your features.

You were tired, sure. But not tired enough. "Not yet," you replied, curling your hands around the fabric of his shirt, subtly tugging down to ask him to lean down. He caught on, pressing his forehead against yours, before he dipped down and his mouth pressed to yours. The kiss lasted for a gracious moment, his hands roaming and grabbing at any bare skin he could get. You felt his tash graze on your upper lip, but you didn't care, you had much bigger things swirling around in your mind.

His lips broke from yours, and you took a breath of air alongside him. He noticed your look, eyes silently begging for something he hadn't caught on to, lips slightly swelled and parted for more, so much more.

His finger trailed across your jaw, upwards to your lips, smoothing his thumb across the softness of them. "What t'is it baby?" He drawled.

"Joel," you whispered, instinctively leaning into the touch of his fingers, as you looked up to him. "Mm?"

"Y'need to tell me, or I can't help you sweetheart,"

"N' that's what I wanna do," he added.

You hesitated, taking in the gentle expression he held, his eyes boring into yours fiercely.

"I want..I want to do more," you responded, "More than what we've been doing,"

He hums in response, dragging his thumb into your hairline, pushing the baby hairs that fought against the style you'd done, carding his fingers through the strands. His eyes are thoughtfull as always, staring down at you deeply. "Yeah? that's it?" he asks, to which you nod a little to fast.

His gaze travels across the expanse of your face, neck, and the beginning of your collar bone. "So fuckin' beautiful, so perfect," His lips brush against your jaw, placing short yet purposeful kisses that continue down your neck, feeling the damp spots appear on your skin. You sigh at the sensation. He eventually captures your lips again, pulling you into a kiss that begins painfully slow, but he wastes no time, gently gripping the back of your head to apply even more pressure to the kiss, his lips slotting and moulding against yours, tongue sliding against them, and you let him in with greatfullness.

The feeling of his tongue breaching your mouth, eagerly licking into it makes you moan softly, slipping your fingers into his hair, dragging them through the locks ontop of his head, pulling delicately at the roots to which he grunted. Your tongue joining the kiss as it clashed and swirled against his hungrily, lips becoming slightly sore from the sheer pressure of the action, yet it felt awfully good. "I'll give you everythin baby, everythin you want," he whispered between breaks, the both of you gasping for air against the heat of the kiss, your body desperately pressing against the firmness of his chest, his sturdy arms caging you in in response.

His hand moved to the zipper of your dress, breaking from the kiss momentarily to give you a look of ask. "Please," you urged, pressing your hips firmly against his as even more of a 'yes'. He groaned softly, eyebrows creasing at the action. He pulled at the zipper, sliding it down enough so he could push the straps of your dress down, whilst hiding his face in your neck as he slathered kisses all over your skin. "Oh-" you gasped, inhaling sharply as he slid the top of your dress from its place exposing the lace of your bra. The sight making him sigh once he lifted his face from your neck, eyes travelling hungrily over your breasts covered by the bra.

His arousal deepened, and you felt it clearly through his jeans, gasping softly at the feeling of his hardness against your clothed cunt. It simply made you want more faster. "Joel-" you urged. "I know baby," he replied, still marvelling at the sight of your breasts before him. "Joel- let's go to bed," you encouraged, to which he pressed another kiss to your lips, and again. "The bed can wait," he retorted, hands bracing at your hips, acting as a guide to push you to the couch, looking up once you hit the couch, watching him stare you down, a stare that caused fluttering throughout your body, warmth growing rapidly in your stomach. Not a moment later he's caging you in, arms either side of your head as you fumble with the buttons of his shirt, kissing his lips sloppily as you go.

Your no longer drunk only on alcohol, but on Joel. His smell of the masculine cologne that emitted from his neck. His large hands gripping at your flesh, broad shoulders crowding your whole self. it was all too much and not enough all at once. You unbuttoned his shirt keenly, sliding it down his shoulders to expose the tanned skin of his bare torso, your eyes flickering down to the prominent v line that disappeared underneath his jeans, which had become significantly tighter. You almost moaned at the sight of him half bare, trailing your hands along his smooth skin, feeling the toughened and firm muscle under your fingers. "Joel," you uttered, grasping at his fore arms to pull him closer.

"I know," he replied, "I know darlin' "

Your hips pushed upwards against his, desperately seeking some friction as you grinded your hips against his. He groaned as your clothed cunt made firmer contact with his crotch which was painfully hard by now. staring down at you with a fierce amount of hunger behind his eyes, pupils blown wide with lust and need as he gazed at your half exposed chest. Tugging at the fabric, your dress slipped further down your body, and he eagerly grabbed at your bra, one handedly unclapsing it at the back. "y' want me to touch you baby?' he murmured, smoothing his hand across the valley of your now bare breasts upon the whine you emitted. "God- Please," you urged. "you gotta tell me sweetheart," he responded, his face visibly twisting in pleasure at the sight of your perfectly shaped breasts, his hand big enough to take one in his hand, kneeding the soft fat of them as he watched your lashes flutter excessively and listened to the gasps that left your lips. "Gotta tell me what you want,"

"touch me please" you replied, looking up to him through your lashes, purposely pressing yourself against his erection growing heavy in his jeans. You could practically feel how big he was through the denim, see the shape of his dick through the fabric. You felt yourself growing increasingly aroused, wetness collecting between your thighs, feeling it dripping and dampening the flimsy cloth of your panties and shuddering at the feeling.

Joel hummed in response, "Can I take his off?" he asked softly, gesturing to the dress halfway down your waist. "Please," you whispered, nodding eagerly. You watched as he slid the fabric further down, his hands dwarfing your waist as they travelled down your body, until your dress was off, leaving your soaked panties the only source of cover. Joel groaned lowly at the sight of the wet spot on the lace cloth. "You're so damn wet already," he mumbles, "So fuckin wet, all for me?"

"All for you," you whined, watching him slide the flimsy underwear down your legs, and your body is all bare for him to see. "so pretty, so fuckin pretty," he praised, hands gripping at your hips, one slipping down to graze your inner thigh, "You want me to touch you? touch you here baby?" He asked, gently swiping his thumb up and down your pussy, gasping lowly at the feeling of how dripping you were for him. "Yes- Please god," you pleaded, your hips bucking up into his touch, "Don't stop Please," you begged, shuddering at the feeling of him thumbing at your clit.

"I won't darlin' your doing so good, so damn good" he praised, marvelling at the sight of your glistening cunt that was no doubt aching for him to touch more. His fingers circled around your clit like he loved it, completely engrossed in the sweet sounds you were making.

"that's it baby-" he murmured, watching your face contort with sheer pleasure as he circled his finger around your entrance, feeling it dripping with arousal. You let out a choked moan as he pushed a finger gently into you, stopping when it reached the knuckle. "Oh fuck- joel," you whimpered, "Fuck," you whispered, the sight of his large and calloused finger sliding in and out of your pussy made you moan, feeling so full by just one of his digits. "Good girl," he praised, his other hand traveling upwards to cup your breast, kneeding the soft flesh as he set a pace of sliding his finger in and out of your dripping entrance, moments later adding a second. Your cunt clenched around the size of his now two fingers entering you at a staggering speed, you craned your head down to capture the sight below, Joel's large dampened fingers slipping in and out of your pussy as his thumb rubbed against the most sensitive place on your clit. Gasping and clenching helplessly, the warm feeling deep in your stomach grew, filling you with esctasy.

The sensation was so big, so much that you felt close already, your whines becoming more louder as you reached that euphoric feeling you were chasing. "Joel, God im gonna-fuck joel!" you cried out desperately. "thats it, cmon baby," he urged, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, not giving you any relief, not that you wanted any anyway. you gave a strangled moan, struggling to catch your breath as the warmth in your stomach grew and grew, and it finally snapped, gripping onto Joel's bicep for support as a indescribable feeling of pleasure washed over you.

Your body shuddered as you came, your cunt clenching and fluttering around his fingers as he watched your eyebrows knit together in pleasure, eyes closed as you moaned at the feeling of your orgasm. "Fuck," he groaned.

His eyes marvelled all over you, gasping lowly at the sight of your glistening pussy before him. Damp, sweaty skin shivering from the aftermath of your orgasm. "Fuck baby," he commented, hand rubbing at the soft flesh of your thigh encouragingly.

Your hands tugged on his biceps, urging him into a kiss as you came down from such a high. Your tongues roughly intertwined as you grasped the back of his head, yours and his damp skin clashing and smoothing together. His hands swept round your back, gently gripping the skin. The both of you pulled away for air, and you looked up to meet his eyes.

Half lidded eyes flickered up to meet yours, his styled hair had come loose, tumbling over his forehead as it stuck to his skin, lips swelled and parted in breath. "I wanna feel you," you whispered between pants. His eyes studied yours for many seconds. "Fuck-" he mumbled, giving you a swift once over before his hand came to the back of your neck. "yeah? " he drawled lowly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The buttons of his jeans soon came undone, and he discarded them swiftly as they came down his legs. Not much was left to imagine when you saw his hardened dick against his boxers, the sheer size behind the dark fabric causing you to shiver.

The more skin uncovered, the more you yearned and ached to feel him, to wrap your hands around his broadness. To have his hold you firm against him whilst you took in every single sensation. You audibly moaned at the thought as he rid himself of all clothing, staring at the sight infront of you.

He was so big, beyond what you imagined, your mouth felt wetter than ever before. The muscles of his stomach and the prominent v line that drew the path to his dick were unbelievable. His dick was hardened, thick and glistening at the head with pre-cum, enough to make your mouth water. "Joel," you uttered, grabbing at his shoulders once you had took him in, but it still didn't feel like you'd looked enough. "I know sweetheart," he replied, sitting back into the couch as you swung a leg over his, his hands finding your hips. "You sure?" he suddenly interjected, giving your sides a encouraged squeeze as you nodded. "m' sure," you replied a little dazed, feeling the wetness gathering between your thighs once again.

You felt his dick against your cunt, and the both of you gasped. Joel rose from lying back on the couch to meet you, desperate to properly wrap his hands around your middle. Almost immediately, you lifted your hips. Watching as his cock came even nearer to your entrance as you lowered yourself down. The head of his cock breeched you, and you gasped as the sensation, his dick nudges inside of your dripping cunt, and you gladly let it. Joel groaned as he felt and watched you sink down onto him, welcoming your pussy as it clenched around him immediately. "Joel-" you choked out, biting down on your lip harshly once you reached the hilt. "So fucking big," you groaned, and he huffed a laugh. "You can take it baby trust me,"

"trust me, just relax," you hear him whisper into your neck, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the skin on your shoulder.

His hands pressed against your hips, uttering a curse as you began to move, rocking your hips weakly against his. "Fuuck," he whispered, watching your face stirred with pleasure as you moved up and down on his cock with a quickened pace, the hands on your hips guiding your moments encouragingly. "So good baby," he urged, groaning as your cunt clenched around him. Your whines filled the air, the sounds heightening when his cock hit a particular place inside, sending a indescribable feeling down your thighs, and a chill spreading down your spin.

Joel watched as your tits bounced in a soft motion at the movements, so perfect looking, just like the rest of you in this moment. "That's it sweetheart," he said, capturing your lips in a searing kiss right in the heat of the moment, pressing you against him as you rode him. Your nails scratching at his back, clawing at the skin. Your head was in the clouds, moans muffled against his lips as his tongue ran against your bottom lip, kisses sloppily shared. That familiar feeling was building in your stomach, the warmth beginning to heat up, swirling. "M' close," you whined between kisses. clenching your thighs around his legs to hold onto him tighter. "I know baby,"

The sounds filled the room, skin slapping together, quickened and desperate pants and breaths, groans and whines that grew louder as the two of you became significantly closer. Joel raised his hips up to meet yours with every bounce you did on his cock, beginning to fuck up into you, fingers digging into your skin daring to leave bruises from the pressure. Your eyes rolled upwards, lips parted to form an 'o' shape as he fucked up into you. The size of his dick was overwhelming, filling you to the near brim with pleasure, smacking against that one place deep inside that made you groan and curl your fingers into his hair, shuddering at the relentless pace of his thrusts.

"good girl," he lowly reminded, his perspirated skin pressing against yours, even firmer with every motion. "knew you could take it," you hear him groan into your skin as he grew closer and closer, you knew by the act of his thrusts becoming sloppier and his moans becoming more strangled.

You came probably harder than you had ever before, crying out from the sudden snap of your orgasm, launching a burst of pleasure all at once as you writhed and clenched around his dick still pushing in and out of you, but Joel wasn't far away from his either way. He groaned shakily as you felt him swiftly pull out just after he got you through your high. You shuddered as you felt him leave you, immediately missing the feeling of him being so far and deep into your pussy. Seconds later thick stripes of white painted your stomach, and the both of you collapsed on each other, bodies heaving and panting as you both came down from your high's, Joels arms still cradling your back tightly, hands smoothing up and down your warm and damp skin.

He looked ridiculously good even now, the small collection of fine lines coated with a sheen of sweat, and his eyes slightly weary as he looked you over. "okay?" he murmured, smoothing back your unruly hair, to which you nodded.

"Joel?"

"Mm,"

"we can go to bed now,"

Thank you for reading! Make sure to leave a like, or give your requests, would be very much appreciated. I will start writing for other characters and will release a list soon on who i will write on. Thanks lovely's <3

[captain-huggy-bear]

"Can- Can you come over please?" (I believe prompt list 1 number 80?) with whoever you're inspired for please 😊 thank you! - em

Em, it was giving soft boy Luke who's maybe feeling shitty after a bad game, so I hope you like it. First time writing Luke so I'm super sorry if it doesn't feel right for him (as we think of him because obvs we don't know him but still) Also I like how I was like let's write something short and then...just kept writing...😂 Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

You'd been friends with Luke Hughes for almost as long as he'd been in New Jersey, both of you new to the city at the time had stumbled into each other quite literally one wintery afternoon. Your coffee going all over his hoodie, his doughnut squishing chocolate icing over your sweater. You'd expected him to yell, instead you learnt that day how utterly sweet and kind Luke Hughes was. He replaced your coffee and refused to let you buy him a new doughnut, but did let you invite him over so you could put some stain remover on his hoodie.

You might be thinking, 'are you crazy? Inviting a strange man to your apartment?', but you can only explain your risk through two pieces of information: 1) You knew roughly who he was. You weren't a fan of his by any means but you followed Hockey and had heard about the newest addition to the Devils, so you at least knew he wasn't a criminal, 2) Luke Hughes had been wearing snoopy socks and something about that had screamed 'non-threatening'.

Looking back it was probably slightly insane on your part, but it bagged you a close friend who you may or may not have had a massive crush on, so you couldn't really say you regretted risking it.

It wasn't unusual for Luke to phone you after a game, more often than not you got a quick phone call or a few texts sent through while he was out celebrating or commisserating with the team, often being invited out even when he knew you weren't much for late nights out on the town.

It was unusual though for that phone call to come in at 1 in the morning while you were sleeping.

You're groggy and half awake, hand patting the bedside table until you grip your phone, Luke's ringtone blarring through the speakers only because he was one of your few exceptions. One of a handful of people who could call you after 11pm without being sent straight to voicemail, the others being your family.

"Lukey? It's..." You stop to squint at your alarm clock, "1:41 in the morning, what's wrong?" You knew the game had ended late, but Luke should have been in bed by now or he should have been out partying with Jack and the boys, definitely not phoning you. You half expected him to be drunk on the other end of the line, maybe having phoned you while out with the team.

Instead his breath is shaky on the other end of the line, voice raspy like he's been crying and that's what has you sitting upright and swinging your legs out of bed before he even finishes his question.

"Can- Can you come over please?" His voice is scratchy and strained, a rasp that sounds defeated. You don't even considering getting changed from your pajamas, you just throw a jacket on from your closet.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, what's wrong?"

"Just...just come over please, angel" You're quick timing it as you shove your feet in a pair of shoes and grab your keys off the side, locking your apartment door behind you. It didn't matter to you that it was nearly 2am or that you hadn't brushed your hair or that you were half-asleep, all that mattered was Luke and the way he sounded like the world might be just a little too much for him right now.

"Okay, okay, want me to stay on the line?"

"No, just...drive safe?" You pause in the hallway, heart hurting at his concern, that even now when he's begging for your help he cares that you're safe.

"Yeah, course, Lu, i'm leaving right now, sweetheart." He lets out a shuddering breath on the line, right before he hangs up and you're certain you might cry because God, Luke shouldn't sound like that, so utterly defeated, so fragile.

You do your best to honour his request on the drive to his and Jack's apartment, even as you want to break a hundred traffic laws just to get there sooner, but you don't. It doesn't take long, but ten minutes feels like one hundred when all you want is to be see Luke and make sure he's okay.

He's at the door from the first knock and you don't say anything, just take him in. His tall form hunched at the shoulders like he's trying to hide within his hoodie, hood pulled over his head and eyes red rimmed, blotchy. There are dark, deep circles beneath his eyes and his lip is bruised and split, a few neatly placed stitches holding it together.

You don't say anything, just step forward and wrap him in your arms as best you can, tiptoeing to press your chin to his shoulder, arms tight around him as if you can protect him from whatever is going on in his head.

He grasps as you like you're a lifeline, fingers digging into your jacket, face pressed so tight to the crook of your neck that you're certain he'll fuse there.

He doesn't protest when you pull him into his apartment, door slamming shut. Doesn't protest when you pull him to his room, asking where Jack is, only to get a short clipped reply of 'club'. Doesn't protest when you sit him on his bed and join him, shoes being kicked off. It's not until you try to pull away from him that he really seems to come to life, hands grasping you firmer, pulling you back, "Don't go, please don't go..."

"'m not going anywhere, Lu, it's okay..." You pull back just enough that you can pull his hood back, fingers carding through his brown curls gently like he might break. "What happened?"

"Just needed you..." His face presses back into your shoulder as your fingers work through his hair like it's a perfectly normal thing to say to your best friend, like he didn't call because he had a shit game, because he doesn't want to talk about it."

"Lu...talk to me, baby"

There's a stark silence, broken only by a shaky breathe that comes from Luke as if the idea of talking is enough to make him cry for the second time that night. "I'm...i'm not good enough for the team, did a shit job tonight and we lost...it's my fault. Played like shit."

"What did Jack say?" You're gentle with it, soft voice, soft fingers on the nape of his neck. It's silly, he knows he's being dramatic, he also knows that it's not a friend thing to do. Knows he wouldn't call any of his other friends at near 2am because he needs them, knows he wouldn't beg for their fingers in his hair to sooth him or feel better just by the smell of their laundry detergent and shampoo. Luke knows he called you because he loves you, pretty sure he loved you the moment you excitedly showed him you'd gotten the coffee stain out of his UMIC hoodie.

"I was being too hard on myself, that it wasn't the 'Luke Hughes show'." He immitates Jack's voice, a pouty sort of tone riding his voice because he knows his brother is right even if he refused to sit moping with him and went out drinking instead.

"He's right. Hockey is a team sport, Luke, you aren't even on the ice the entire time! You do not get to decide that you're the reason a game is won or lost, you don't get to shoulder that."

"But.." Your palms cup his face, pulling him up to look at you. Your face is dead serious brows furrowed, lips pursed.

"No, you're a good hockey player. They picked you to play for them because of what you bring to the table and maybe you didn't play your best tonight , but you deserve to be on the team. You can't always be at 100." Your thumbs brush his cheeks under his eyes, like you might be able to wipe away the dark bags there. He looks worn, exhausted, tears just welling in those green eyes of his.

You're not entirely sure he believes you, "If I said I wasn't good enough because I had a bad day at work, what would you say to me?"

"To shut up and stop being mean to yourself..." Luke frowns at you like you're insane for even suggesting something like that, and it's what makes you smile for the first time that night, as if to say I told you so.

"Exactly, so stop being mean to yourself, Lu. You're amazing, i'm always in awe of how you skate..." You brush a curl from his eyes and watch them flutter closed slightly, throat tightening a little because you know this isn't the way you're supposed to feel about your best friend.

"Really?"

"Really..." You watch him carefully, the way he just leans more into your hands like he trusts you entirely to hold him up, the deep swelling of his lip, the beauty marks across his cheeks. "What do you need from me, right now?"

He takes a moment, like the words are stuck on the tip of his tongue whether unsure of how to ask or worried to make things weird. Both of you always toeing the line between friends and something decidedly more romantic.

"Can...can you just hold me? Just stay the night?" He blinks up at you with such big sweet eyes that you're not sure anyone would be able to refuse him, so you don't.

"I can do that."

You treat him delicately, like he's not a nearly 200 pound hockey player that regularly gets body slammed against boards and ice, who's covered in bruises and currently sporting a split lip. You pull him to lie down with you, curling around him like a protective blanket, pulling his face back into the crook of your neck, legs twisting with his. It's definitely not what friends do, but it's what he needs, so he grips you back tight, presses his face firmly into your neck and pulls your leg over his hip to be as close as possible.

You don't move more than the brush of fingers through his hair or down his arm, across his back. Even when you can hear soft snores, the sign of him having fallen asleep, you don't move because as much as Luke said he need this, you kind of need this too.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Sorry Im really in a request mood right now so heres another idea if you have time.

24.. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Reader having sleeping problems and cant sleep. Quinn wakes up after she left the bed and went to the living room so she wouldnt disturb him.

It's 2am...guess who can't sleep?

It had been one of /those/ nights. 

One where no matter what you did, you couldn't stay asleep for more than an hour at a time. You had tossed and turned the whole night, shocked you hadn't woken Quinn even once. He was sound asleep on his side, his back to you and seemingly unphased by all of the restless episodes you were having. Annoyed with the constant pursuit of sleep that always seemed to allude you, you slipped out of bed and tiptoed from the room.

By this point, you were wide awake, but it was two-thirty in the morning. Too early to decide to just stay up and start the day and too late at night to do anything, not that wouldn't disturb Quinn in the other room. Back when you lived alone, you would have baked some cookies, or had a hot bath and watched a movie, but since moving in with Quinn, all of those insomnia fixes were harder to do now. 

Dragging your feet to the living room, you'd pull a couple of blankets from the back of the sofa, and try to make your self comfortable. However, like in the bedroom, you simply couldn't get that level of comfort you so desperately craved. Your back was beginning to bother you now, only adding to your inability to get any adequate rest. 

Looking up at the ceiling, you'd give one of your best signature Quinn sighs but it would fall on deaf ears. All you wanted to do was curl up against him and finally drift off to sleep, but you didn't like being the big  spoon and also didn't want to wake him. You had been lucky enough to get out of bed without disturbing him, so it seemed silly to go back in there now. You'd just have to settle for a solo night on the sofa instead. 

Being lost in your own thoughts, and not of counting sheep, you'd flip on the television and try to find something to watch that might finally coax you to sleep. Not that you were surprised, but there was absolutely nothing on at near three o'clock in the morning. You'd settle for some old Forensic Files episodes, as it was one of the few shows always on at all hours of the day. You were convinced that there were ten-thousand episodes of that show, as you never seemed to catch a re-run. You wouldn't find your eyes getting heavy --quite the opposite-- you found yourself engaged and eager for the justice outcome at the end. And because you were engrossed in the show, you wouldn't notice that Quinn was up and out of bed.

"Baby, what are you doing up? It's three," he said with the biggest yawn that made the tail-end of his statement hard to understand. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, Quinny-- I'm sorry I woke you up."

"I rolled over to find you and you weren't there, then I heard the TV." He shuffled over to you, looking down with a concerned expression on his face, faintly illuminated by the glow coming from the LCD "Come back to bed."

"I can't sleep," you replied, as he sat down beside you on the sliver of left-over cushion. 

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, I just can't stay asleep."

He yawned again slightly concerned as he questioned you, "Did I do something to keep you up?"

"No, baby. It's just a bad night." 

"Is there anything I can do?"

You shook your head, giving his back a slight scratch as he sat next to you. "I don't think so, but thank you. You should really go back to bed, baby. You need your rest."

"Come with me" he pleaded, giving a pout.

"Quinn, don't you dare pout!" You teased. "That's not fair. I'll just keep you awake."

"I have an idea, please?"

You huffed, knowing you had already lost when that bottom lip of his made its appearance. "If I can't get back to sleep, Quinn, I'm just going to come back out here."

"You won't need to," he mumbled, pulling himself to his feet, extending his hand to you. "Hand-- please."

Hand-in-hand, Quinn would guide you back to the bedroom. He was first under the covers, getting himself nestled back in though the bed had grown cold having been empty. "Come on, my cute little spoon," he said, smiling in the darkness. 

That was all you needed to hear to know where he wanted you. Once you got into bed, Quinn wasted no time engulfing you in his arms and pulling you close to his body. There wasn't a gap between the two of you and his warmth transferred to you within a few seconds. His left arm locked you in to his embrace his breath hot against your neck. 

"Comfortable?" He asked, eyes already closed, nose buried in your hair.

"Yes, thank you." 

"What else do you need?"

"Nothing, Quinn. I'm okay."

He didn't say much after that and just let the feeling of you up against him reassure you that you were safe and being looked out for. He'd give you all of the stars if it were possible and he would always admit that he slept best with you. It hurt him when you decided to sleep on the sofa instead of his bed, but he understood you had your reasons, most having to do with not disturbing him and that he remained asleep. 

"Good night, babe," he whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," you said to him, your eyes finally finding the desire to fall closed. "Wake me up when you get up in the morning, please?"

He giggled, "No chance. I'll get you up at noon." 

[sturnioloszn]

CHERRY - M.S

summary; you finally decide to lose your virginity to your boyfriend, and he pops your cherry.

warnings; smut, losing virginity, pet names (nothing crazy people, just baby and stuff), tit sucking, fingering, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it up, ho).

a/n; i'm writing this at 2am so let's not expect shakespeare up in this bitch. anywho, if you have any suggestions/recommendations for other content, then lmk!

'Hey baby, just finished filming'

'I'm driving to urs rn'

Matt's texts came up on my phone, and I instantly got a spark of excitement. We haven't been able to see each other often because he's been busy with filming, and I've been busy with work.

I get up from my bed and decide to squeeze in a quick shower before he comes. Walking back into my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my body, I picked one of Matt's shirts, which he left the last time he was over, and a black, lacey thong.

Just as I was about to throw my hair up in a bun, I heard a knock at my door. I pranced to the front door and swung it open.

"Hiiiii," I squeal lunging into his chest for a hug, the smell of his cologne taking over my senses. God, he smelled so good; Matt always smells amazing.

"Hi, baby," He replies, engulfing me in the hug completely. He brings his hand up to cradle my head and softly moves his thumb back and forth.

"I've missed you," I muffle into his chest. We haven't seen each other in almost two weeks, which was an insanely long time considering we live ten minutes from each other.

We eventually make it from the front door, and we are lying on my bed watching Spongebob. But I can't concentrate on the cartoon with Matt so close to me.

I know we've been dating for over a year, but I still get so nervous around him. He's my first real boyfriend, and of course, he looks like he was sculpted by God himself. I really don't know what I did to get so lucky.

I turn my head to look at him, and he's concentrated on the tv. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed from how focused he was on the episode, and his jawline was covered in stubble.

The more I looked at him, the bigger the heat between my legs grew. I subconsciously pressed my thighs together to create some kind of friction, but it didn't help at all.

At that moment I decided that I was ready. I was ready to give myself to him completely. I was ready for him to make me his in every way possible.

"Matt," I whispered.

My words are so quiet that I wasn't even sure if Matt had heard me. I repeat myself, and he turns his head to make eye contact with me.

"I'm ready, Matt," I say shyly.

I don't know how he was going to react. I know Matt has had a girlfriend before me and that he lost his virginity to her, so this might not be a big deal for him, but for me, it was huge.

The furthest me and Matt have ever gone is some heated-makeout touching. We've never seen each other below the waist, so this was definitely a big step for me.

"Ready for what, my love?" He asks, with genuine confusion in his tone.

"To lose my virginity," I'm so embarrassed admitting this, but he doesn't seem to be disturbed one bit. Actually, he seems surprised.

"Baby, we don't have to do anything, you know that, right?" He says, trying to reassure me, but I know what I want.

"I know, I want to," I say, my confidence growing. I crawl over to him and throw one of my legs over his lap so that I'm now straddling him.

He brings his tongue out to wet his lips before analysing my face for anything other than certainty. He then moves his hands to my hips, resting them there softly.

"I love you so much..." He speaks carefully, "...and I don't want to hurt you, so you have to tell me to stop or slow down if I do hurt you even though I'll try my best not to," his face is completely serious and there isn't a hint of laughter in his voice.

I nod in agreement to his statement, and he nods back, making a silent promise to eachother.

He then brings his left hand up to my cheek and tilts my head as he brings his soft lips to mine. The kiss was painfully slow and tender, as if he could break me by moving too fast.

I move my hands to the nape of his neck, tangling my fingers into his curls. I tug at his hair carefully, and a low groan escapes his lips. Fuck, I'm so wet for him. This is when I remember I'm only wearing lace underwear, meaning my wetness is likely seeping through and marking his clothes. That shouldn't turn me on, but it does.

The kiss begins to get heated, and my need for relief is growing. I subconsciously begin to rock my hips on his thigh, and his hands dig into my skin.

He pulls away from the kiss and moves his mouth to my ear, "Let me take care of you, baby," He whispers.

He delicately flips us over so that I'm now lying on my back, and he's hovering over me, his hands sinking into the mattress near my head. He leans down and peppers kisses on my neck, slowly moving further down onto my collar bone.

One of his hands begins to wander, making sure to touch every curve on my body. He then reaches the hem of my (his) shirt.

"Can I undress you?" His words are so innocent, but they drive me insane. I want him to do more than undress me, I want him. Now. But I know I have to be patient. I nod at his request.

"I need words, baby, please," He pleads. God, could this man get any sexier. I was losing my composure by the second.

"Yes, please, take it off," I reply, in the same tone. He wastes no time sliding the oversized shirt off my body, and I can see his breathing halter when he comes face to face with my bare tits.

He slowly lowers his mouth to the valley of my breasts and places a row of meaningful kisses before shifting his attention over to my left breast. He places a kiss on my hardened nipple before taking it into his warm mouth, I gasp at the feeling.

He plays with my nipple as he swirls his tongue over it and then lightly sucks on it. I let moans spill from lips, which only encourages him to keep going.

After a few moments, he releases it from his mouth and pays the same attention to my right one.

"Matt, please, I need you," I say, beginning to get restless. He's showing me attention in all the wrong places.

"You've gotta be patient, baby," He speaks, a smile forming on his lips. I bet he finds this so amusing; getting me all hot and bothered but not relieving any of the pressure he's creating.

He finally begins to make his way to my last piece of clothing, and without warning, I feel his hand cup me over my underwear. He runs his thumb back and forth over my clit, making me shudder.

By now, I'm a water park. I'm soaking, and my wetness has seeped through my underwear completely.

"You're so fucking wet," he says, bringing his fingers to toy with my wet underwear. I moan at his words.

He hooks his fingers on each side of my panties and slowly shimmies them off me, leaving me completely naked in front of him. I feel the blood rush to my face. I can't believe I'm completely naked in front of him. He can sense my embarrassment and instantly clears me of any doubts.

"Baby, you're so beautiful, I'm so blessed that I get to see you like this. Thank you for blessing me,". I melt at his words. His words instantly reassure me, and my embarrassment fades away.

He places both of his hands on my thighs, slowly parting my legs so that he could see me in my entirety. My wet cunt is now exposed to him and see his breathing hitch.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," he whispers underneath his breath, taking in the view before him. He brings his middle finger to my slick folds, collecting all the wetness he could, then bringing that same finger to his mouth and sucking it clean.

My pussy is throbbing for him. I need him so unbelievably bad. He then looks at me before speaking again, "I need to stretch you out a little before we have sex. Otherwise, it'll hurt a lot more. Will you let me do that?".

His words were soft but yet firm. He really did want to take care of me and ensure that I was enjoying every bit of this as much as he was.

"I trust you," I reply, giving him a small smile. He returns the smile and lowers his gaze again.

He once again brings his middle finger to my pussy but instead of messing around, he went straight for my hole, slowly sinking his finger into me.

I instantly threw my head back. This was nothing like I've ever felt before. He looked back up to me to make sure I was okay before slowly taking his finger out and pushing it back in.

"Fuck, Matt," I breathe out, slowly gripping the sheets beneath me.

"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so good," his praise makes me even wetter, allowing for his finger to slide in and out of me easier.

"Think you can take another one f'me?" He says, watching my pussy swallow his finger.

"Mhm," I can't get any words out with my bottom lip pulled between my teeth.

I then feel another slender finger approach my hole. He slowly pushes the second finger in and it definitely hurts more than the first. It's almost a burning sensation, it hurts so good.

He let's me adjust to the feeling of both fingers in me before beginning to pump them in and out similarly to the first time.

After a few moments of pumping, he pulls both fingers out completely. I shudder at the loss of contact and was about to question why he stopped until I saw him reaching for his belt buckle.

This is what I've been waiting for. Fuck, I'm so nervous but so excited too.

"Baby, are you sure this is what you want?" He asks once again.

"Not really, I'm only doing this for you," I say jokingly.

He halts his movements completely, "I don't joke about consent, baby," He says firmly.

"I'm sorry, of course I want this this baby, I promise," I say, reassuring him. He nods before going back to unzipping his jeans.

Before removing his jeans, he brings his hands to his top, removing both his shirt and vest in one swift move. He then pulls down his jeans, leaving him in only his boxers. I look at the imprint of his cock on his boxers and fuck did he look big.

He finally slid his boxers down, his cock springing out, glad to finally be free from all restraints. I gulp at the sheer size of him. I didn't expect him to be so big. He's at least seven inches, and his tip is red, glistening with pre-cum.

I can see something crosses his mind and he immediately becomes upset.

"What's wrong?" I asked confused.

"I don't have a fucking condom," He sighs annoyed. It's silent for a moment before I speak up.

"Can't you pull out?" I ask innocently.

"I can if you want me to, I'm just scared I'll be so consumed by you that I'll forget completely," he says half seriously and half joking.

"I already told you, Matt, I trust you," I assure him, he nods at my words.

"Alright, my love, if it hurts or if it becomes too much, please tell me to stop, push me off you, tell me to fuck off, anything, just stop me, okay?" He says. I know this is the bare minimum, but the way he cares for me and the way he wants me to also enjoy this is so meaningful to me.

"I promise I will," I say, smiling at him once more.

He adjusts himself so that he's now hovering over me, with one hand near my head on the mattress and his other hand between our bodies, guiding his cock to my entrance. I feel his tip at my entrance, and he slowly grinds his hips forward so that his cock can just about enter me.

He pushes more and more forward until a slight look of discomfort is present on my face.

"Fuck, you're too big, Matt," I say, looking down to where our bodies are connected and seeing that he's not even half way in. There's no way his entire dick is fitting inside of me.

"I know, baby, but you can be a good girl and take it, can't you?" He says, lowering his head to my neck.

"Mhm, I'll take it so good for you," I agree. His words make me even wetter, my wetness coating his cock.

He pushes himself further into me, and there's a burning sensation again, but it's not too noticeable due to the fact that Matt had just previously stretched me out. He was right. It definitely did help.

With one final buck of his hips, I felt his pelvis against my folds. He was completely in. I let out a sigh, feeling him entirely inside me.

As he's pulling out, I look down at our connection. This is when I notice red stuff on his cock. I became confused. Is that blood??? Was I bleeding? Fuck, that's so embarrassing. But it didn't even hurt that much, there's no way I'm bleeding from that?

Questions and concerns fill my mind to the point where I can't keep it to myself.

"Matt..." I speak softly.

"What's wrong, my love?" He instantly notices something is wrong.

"Am I bleeding?" I say, looking back down between us. He follows my gaze and sees the blood coating his cock.

"Oh babyy, don't worry about it, you had me worried," he says as if I'm not literally bleeding.

"Why am I bleeding?" I ask, I want to know why this is happening.

"It's just because I broke your hymen baby, in other words, I popped your cherry," he smirks. He's essentially saying that I'm officially not a virgin anymore.

I can tell this turns him on. The fact that he was the one I trusted with this special moment means a lot to him, and it means a lot to me too. I'm glad I'm able to share my 'first' with him.

He resumes his movements and begins to pump his dick back into me, this time at a slightly quicker pace. My pussy adjusts to him very quickly, and from this point forward it's all pleasure.

A few moments later and he's established a rhythm. It's not too fast but not too slow, and he's hitting all the right spots. I can't stop the moans from spilling out of my mouth, which motivates a few moans and groans to also flee his lips.

"M-Matt, fa-faster...please," my broken request is immediately fulfilled as Matt's hips pick up the pace. I feel my orgasm building up, and if he continued like this, I'd be coming all over his cock in a few minutes.

He continued his movements without faltering once, and the only sounds that could be heard is the sound of our skin connecting repeatedly with the mixture of my moans and his panting.

"I'm s-so c-close, Matt," I moan.

"Fuck, me too," He says, speeding up ever so slightly. He then brings his hand down between our bodies to rub my clit and this was my final straw. My orgasm came crashing down, and I almost saw stars. I felt my pussy spasm around his cock which was still rhythmically pumping in and out of me.

"FUCKK, JUST LIKE THAT," Matt moans as he pulls his cock out from me and jerks it off at the speed of light. His mouth falls open and his eyebrows are scrunched together. That sight was almost enough to make me finish again.

Suddenly, hot, white cum shoots out and lands on my stomach. He milks his cock for all of it before pressing his sweaty forehead against mine.

"Shit, babe, that was amazing," he pants, before getting up to get a towel to clean us up.

"Are you okay?" He asks as he's wiping his cum from my stomach.

"Yeah, I'm just in shock," I smile. He smiles back and he grabs my shirt from the floor, and pulls it over my head. He then gets back in bed and pulls me onto his chest.

The rest of the evening was mundane, we watched more tv, ordered food, and cuddled until we fell asleep but this is a day I will never forget.

The care and love that he treated me with was indescribable and I will forever be grateful to him that he made my first time as special and memorable as possible.

a/n; this was lowk longer than I thought it was gonna be lmaoo. anywayy, i hope you enjoyed reading it. if u have any suggestions for future fanfics or other content in general lmk! love you sm <33

[chahnniesroom]

some loves

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

word count: 6.9k

tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic

read it on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.

Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.

He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.

“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”

“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”

“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”

“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”

“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”

“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.

“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”

Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.

There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.

“I’m in,” Chan agrees.

“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”

“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”

“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.

“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”

—

Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.

Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.

“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”

“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.

“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”

“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”

“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”

“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.

“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”

They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.

HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.

“Y/n,” Chan breathes.

You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”

Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.

It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.

It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.

Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.

As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.

You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.

“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”

Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.

“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”

The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.

The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.

You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.

It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.

Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.

“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”

You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”

“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”

You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.

“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.

“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.

Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.

Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.

—

Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.

That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.

In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.

The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.

Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.

Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.

When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.

“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”

Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.

“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.

Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”

“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”

“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”

“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”

“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.

“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”

“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”

“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”

“Please,” Chan pleads.

“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”

It suddenly clicks.

“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”

“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”

“But really, we were never-”

“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”

“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”

“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”

“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”

“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.

“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”

“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”

“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”

“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”

—

A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.

After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.

“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”

That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.

“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.

“What happened?” he prods.

“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”

“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.

“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.

“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.

“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.

“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”

Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.

“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”

“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”

“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”

As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.

At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.

“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”

Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.

Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.

[Received - 8:04pm]

Channie-oppa~

[Received - 8:04pm]

This is Y/nnie

[Received - 8:05pm]

Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/

[Received - 8:09pm]

But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?

Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.

[Sent - 8:10pm]

Hey Y/n!

[Sent - 8:11pm]

No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too

[Sent - 8:13pm]

I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ

[Received - 8:13pm]

Gangdong-gu?

[Received - 8:14pm]

Ohh JYPE

[Received - 8:14pm]

My bad, forgot that you guys moved

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Yeahhh

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry

[Received - 8:18pm]

Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

Wait, really?

[Sent - 8:18pm]

No no no, don’t take the subway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min

[Received - 8:19pm]

Wowow

[Received - 8:19pm]

Private driver?

[Received - 8:20pm]

You’re a real superstar now haha

[Sent - 8:21pm]

alsfjshkafs noooooooo

[Sent - 8:21pm]

It’s just faster

[Sent - 8:21pm]

and safer

[Received - 8:22pm]

I’m not complaining

[Received - 8:22pm]

but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you

[Received - 8:23pm]

If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭

[Sent - 8:24pm]

Knew it

[Sent - 8:25pm]

You’re just using me for my fame

[Received - 8:26pm]

Ah you got me this time

[Received - 8:26pm]

*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks

[Received - 8:27pm]

Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up

[Received - 8:27pm]

Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?

Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.

Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.

[Received - 8:32pm]

?? Speechless that I caught on?

[Received - 8:36pm]

I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped

[Received - 8:40pm]

Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked

[Received - 8:42pm]

It was nice knowing you I guess

When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.

[Sent - 8:53pm]

Sorry, lost track of time

[Sent - 8:53pm]

They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything

[Received - 8:54pm]

Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts

[Received - 8:55pm]

But thanks

[Received - 8:55pm]

Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?

[Received - 8:55pm]

I’m honoured

Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.

“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”

“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.

“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”

“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”

“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”

“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”

“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”

“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”

“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”

It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.

“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”

“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”

“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”

“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.

“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.

“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.

"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."

“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”

"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”

"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."

“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”

“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.

“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”

"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.

"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.

"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"

“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.

“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.

“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.

Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.

“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."

You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"

"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."

"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."

"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."

Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.

Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.

"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"

You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.

"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."

At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.

"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[caramelkoo]

my soul back home. [1]

pairing : Jungkook X reader

genre : frenemies to lovers, writer!jungkook, pilates instructor!oc.

summary : your best friend receives your wedding invitation and realizes he doesn't have much time left before he loses you once and for all.

warnings : slight angst, they fight over a packet of pasta, bickering, oc is a pilates girly yayyy, Jungkook is super protective of the oc, misogyny, body positivity, strong language, hate at first sight.

a/n : heyy my besties, i just wanted to show my gratitude to all of you who read my last work. im so so so grateful to each one of you. it's almost 2am for me and i just couldn't wait to share this. Enjoy and let me know how you like it. xoxo. 💕

༺♡༻

6 years ago

Jungkook's growling stomach diverts his attention from the five page essay he's been trying to work on but barely has written a word. Blaming it on his hunger, he gets and up and decides to make himself some white sauce pasta also known as his comfort food. His mom used to make him when he was a child back in the days just so he can get done with his homework without making her work for it.

When he got into a fight in seventh standard and came back home with a nasty cut under his lip, his mom made it again. It's been his go to ever since.

"Shit" as soon as he enters the kitchen though, he realizes that he ran out of pasta last week when his friends came over.

Picking up his car keys he drives up to his closest supermarket. The lady behind the counter smiling at him as per usual. She must be around 60 year old and every time Jungkook has stopped by to pick anything up, she has been super sweet to him. Not to mention how badly she wants him to meet her granddaughter. He wonders if her granddaughter knows about her grandmother trying to set her up with a stranger.

"How you doin' today, boy?"

"Hey miss Cathy, you having a good day?"

"So far so good" Jungkook walks further inside the store and searches for the pasta packet he came here for. When he spots it, he reaches for it unaware of the hand that goes for the very same packet.

The vanilla and caramel like scent hits him like a truck and when he looks beside him, he freezes. The girl which stares back at him has brown hair which matches the color of her striking eyes. There are freckles all over her nose and cheekbones making it look like a group of stars decided to make a home there on her face. Her glossy lips are parted in surprise, her almond shaped eyes wide. Why does he feel warm all of a sudden? Is the air conditioner off?

"hello?" her voice breaks him off his trance. The girl's eyes have gone narrower now.

"I need the packet." He hears her say again. As beautiful as she might be and as badly as he wanted to get on his knees and.. no !! not going there, he couldn't let her take the pasta. Not when it's about his essay. if he doesn't finish it soon his professor is going to have his head on a platter.

"Oh no no no no no no, I need this and I saw it first so I'm getting this"

"Okay first of all that doesn't make any sense. People can see it things from outside the store, does that mean they own it? plus can you not buy it from some other store?"

now he was getting irritated. she had the audacity to look so gorgeous and on top of that she was fighting over a pasta packet?

"It does. No matter how badly you need it, I need it more."

The girl takes a step forward, "Listen, I have no idea what do you need it for and not that I'm interested but I have to make my little sister her favorite pasta with extra cheese or she is not going to leave me and my boyfriend alone."

See, Jungkook is a simple guy. He likes something and he goes for it. If it was some other place, maybe his college or a restaurant, he would have approached the gal and asked for her number oh so politely but this right here? It's a war and he hates losing. No matter how cute the opponent is.

"I'm sure you can persuade her with a popsicle or two. you can find them at the counter right there" he points towards the counter. "Now let me have the pasta because I need to eat my weight in it so that I can finish my essay and be done with it, alright?"

She scoffs, "You're infuriating you know that?"

"Heard somebody call me that once but I believe they were looking for the word 'lovable'" he shrugs and snatches the packet before making his way to the counter silently hoping miss Cathy does not mention her granddaughter again.

The pretty girl yells behind him, "HEY!! WHAT ARE YOU? 5?"

He places the item on the counter and pays the amount before walking out of the store. God, he was starving. Much to his disappointment, someone calls him out.

"Boy, wait!!!" Fuck, it's Miss Cathy again.

He turns towards her forcing himself to smile, "Yes, ma'am?"

"You know my granddaughter-"

"Miss Cathy, I wish I could give you a minute but I'm actually in a hurry. You see, my brother is visiting with his two year old and it's been a long journey for him and he's starving and I need to-"

Jungkook tried his best to lie through his teeth, he really does until a voice interrupts him. That very same voice.

"Really now? And here I thought somebody was so hungry, they started twitching just by the thought of someone else having that packet of pasta" the pretty girl in yellow sundress folds her arm over chest. "Does she know her tits push up when she does that?" Jungkook thinks.

She continues, "Grans, I didn't know you let liars into your shop?"

Wait, WHAT?! Did she just call Miss Cathy "Grans"? Would you look at that? They weren't lying about the world being small. Who would have guess that the girl he's been trying to avoid is the same girl he can't ever avoid for the life of him.

Miss Cathy's loud wheeze echoes through the store, "Trust me y/n, he's a good fella. Jungkook, this is my granddaughter, y/n. The prettiest, my girl."

She looks so proud while introducing her and rightfully so, if she were his, he would also take pride in that. Minus the pasta fight, though. The thought scares the shit out of him and maybe that's why he runs. His feet move rapidly not stopping until he's facing his car in the parking lot.

How the hell did he even let that thought enter his mind? One minute he was sneering at her and now he wanted to make her his? He began imagining what would it be like to call her, his? Quickly starting the engine he drives himself to his apartment. Later that night, he takes a cold shower and fucks his hand while thinking about the same vanilla and caramel scent.

༺♡༻

present time

Jungkook has always loved being alone, his solitude has been something which he absolutely appreciated. Being the eldest son of his family he's been the one to pick up everyone's pieces but when it came to him, nobody served that purpose so he ran. Ran away from his home, from the chaos, the noise and most importantly the responsibilities. That's not to say that he's a quitter but when you have a father sitting on your chest all the time and making it extremely hard for you to live your life, you might as well be called one. He chose his peace and he does not regret anything about it.

Unfortunately though, he left something very precious back home and as much as it hurt him to do so, he knew he couldn't not escape.

The room is quiet enough that he can hear his heart beating straight out of his chest and his breathing turning ragged. When he came back from his early morning run he did not expect to find a wedding invitation in the mail box. he wasn't even planning on checking the damn mailbox if it wasn't for the small part of him wanting to do so.

The man had the whole day planned and now he was standing in the middle of the hall feeling like somebody dropped a huge rock on his chest and said "deal with it" with a piece of paper in his hand he can't wait to burn or tear into pieces. He needs to sit down.

He unlocks his phone and finds your number at the very top of his dial list. You guys were talking last night only about your studio being renovated and it confuses him to the core as to why you didn't mention anything about your wedding.

"Hey, what's up?" your voice greets him, cheery as always.

"You're getting married?" the words seem bitter on his tongue.

"Oh my god, finally. You got the invitation" a dagger through his stomach would hurt less right now. He runs his fingers through his hair, messing them up and continues.

"Were you ever going to tell me about it?"

"No because I wanted it to be a surprise. I asked Taehyung and Cynthia to do the same as well. Aren't you glad you happened to check your mailbox, huh?"

Jungkook blinks, once and then again. He was having a hard time comprehending all of this. Hadn't he checked the mailbox, would you have gotten married and never told him about it? He was going to throw up. When he replies his voice is brittle.

"Listen, can i call you again? I need to run some errands"

"Sure, but don't-" he hangs up and runs to the bathroom before emptying his stomach.

༺♡༻

5 years ago

Sweat drips down from your forehead, your chest moves up and down from how fast your breathing has gone. A moan slips out as you spread your legs a bit wider.

"Just one more aaaaand perfect. Now release" the Pilates instructor's voice reaches to your wet ears. You place yourself down on the mat.

"Fuck, she'll kill me one of these days" Your routine has already been fucked up because of your college exams and after finally being fed up of sticking your nose in the books, you had decided to get on with Pilates. You fell in love with it a year ago.

After working your body in the gym and realizing that high intensity workouts are no good for you, you gave low intensity workouts a chance and boom! The clouds parted and now you're almost in the best shape of your life.

You have never loved your body as much as you do now and if your 13 year old self could look at you, she'd give you a pat on the back. She wouldn't believe that people no longer make fun of her for not having thigh gap or slender arms. Indeed, it took several lunges, roll ups, spine twists, ab burners to get there.

It's not like you have the most anime like body, no. But you have finally stopped beating yourself up over it, accepting the fact that people's negative opinions are just a reflection of their own insecurities.

Your phone pings with a notification and you pick it up. It's the guy you've recently began talking to on hinge. Your boyfriend, now ex, broke up few months ago because he suddenly thought sleeping with his manager would be something you'd look past. Clearly, he was wrong and now he can choke on a thorny dick for all you care.

When your best friend, Cynthia had suggested to join a dating app just for the plot, you did it. Besides, what more could go wrong? An hour of swiping left and two cups of coffee later, you came across a guy with pictures of a guitar, a black cat and a chess board. In your defense, his cat was cute.

The texts reads, "Are you free on the upcoming Saturday? My buddy said there's a new coffee shop and they sell the best hazelnut frappe in existence."

You think before replying. According to the stats, it's the ninth day since you have started talking. Isn't it too soon to be going on a date? Although, there is a small part of you who wants to say "fuck it" and go. Before your thoughts go spiraling you go with the latter.

"Sure. Hazelnut frappe is my favorite" locking your phone you prepare to take a long hot bath. After all, you've earned it.

༺♡༻

Turns out the nerdy guys possessing a hobby of playing chess are not worth it. At least this one isn't. You wonder if you killed a bunch of kittens in your past life because seriously? When you said yes to the date two days ago, the thing you expected the least was your date constantly talking about how many hours he spends in the gym, which protein shake he drinks, even mansplaining about the NHL team he's been obsessed with. Guess you should have seen it coming from the way he couldn't even wait till ten days to ask you on a date.

Honestly, whenever you go on dates you can't help but expect the other person to be on their worst behavior. For example, you can expect the guy to dress badly, smell badly, show up late or conventionally not show up at all. This guy right here is outright insane and has failed to stay in his lane. You were getting agitated at this point.

"And then BOOM!! he shoots the most legendary shot of his life. This is what happens at NHL, you-" he stops when you stand up from your place.

"Excuse me, I'll just be back in a second" you place the napkin on the table as you grab your purse hoping the washroom has a secret exit or something.

But before you could even take a step forward, his voice stops you.

"Oh I know where this is going, You'll excuse yourself politely and then run away like some coward huh? Typical escape plan for you girls?" His voice sounds so nasty and when you turn towards him he's scowling at you like YOU'RE the one who was being a twat the whole time.

you mumble, "What do you mean?"

He stands up and walks towards you. You really try to ignore people staring at you but you're only human. The sudden rush of emotions have caused your mouth to go dry. It's hard to process what's happening.

"What I mean is that you're probably gonna go in there, call your best friend and ask her to help you escape because you can't stand another second with me" he raises his right eyebrow up.

"Sir, please you're causing trouble for everyone. I suggest you to please sit down"

This is beyond embarrassing. If you were planning to give this guy another chance earlier, there's no way in hell you're going to do that now. Over your dead body. So you do the only thing that makes perfect sense. Your hands fly and you hit his cheek with so much force, you swear you hear his jaw pop.

There are several gasps around you. If you're going to get booed on, you might as well make the most out of it.

His face turns sideways before he stands up straight. He raises his hand to hit you back but suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand grabs his forearm and yanks it away. You instantly know who it is. It's the same arm you wanted to twist a year back at the grocery store.

"Get your filthy fucking hands away from her"

After an year of trying to forget about him, he's here yet again and he's saving you from this asshole. You couldn't decide if you should be thrilled about him coming at your rescue or worried about him being back.

[hoe4hotchner]

The Final Lap

Pairing: F1 driver!Hotch x fem!reader | WC: 2.3k | CW: A little swearing, one midly suggestive comment, champagne, I don't know - is sweat a cw?

A/N: I finished writing this at 2am, so some of the environemt might not make sense, I'm not changing it though ;)

The Ferrari garage was electric, the air thick with the buzz of movement as engineers murmured over headsets, eyes glued to the data screens, pit crew readying themselves for the next stop, and the unmistakable scent of fuel and burning rubber that clung to the humid night air and only got stronger with each lap.

Yet despite the organized chaos around you, your world had narrowed to one thing: the red blur blazing around the track.

Aaron Hotchner.

A two-time World Champion, one of the best drivers this generation of Formula 1 had ever seen. But tonight, that was all coming to an end. He was retiring. Mid-season at that. It had shocked everyone in the paddock.

Retiring in the middle of the season? Unheard of.

Speculation had run wild—injury, contract disputes, internal politics, a baby?—but no one had guessed the truth. Hotch wasn’t leaving because of any of that. He was leaving because he wanted something more than the endless race weekends, the constant jetlag, the hotels, the pressure of performance, and the fear of injury. He wanted a life, and that life had you in it.

For the first time in over a decade, Hotch had found someone he didn’t want to leave behind every other weekend. Someone who made the circuit feel small, someone who was waiting for him to come home, not just to a race but to a life beyond the track and parties.

Right now, he was in P2, chasing down Max Verstappen with only a handful of laps to go.

The garage was tense, every engineer hanging on the telemetry. You stood in the garage, chewing your lip, arms crossed and fingers digging into your skin as you watched the screen, tracking his every move.

“Gap to Verstappen, 1.2 seconds,” his race engineer, Paul, relayed over the radio. “He’s struggling with tire degradation. If we push, we can get him.”

Hotch’s voice came through, steady and composed. “Understood.”

God, you loved him.

You loved how focused he was, how in control he remained even when every part of his body must’ve been screaming for release, for a break.

But not tonight. Not when this was his last race.

A sudden thought struck you, and without hesitation, you turned to one of the engineers, pointing at a spare headset on the workbench. “Can I say something to him?”

The engineer hesitated, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, but then smirked. “Make it quick.”

You pulled the headset on and pressed the comms button, taking a deep breath. The air in the garage felt thick with anticipation as everyone waited for you to make your move, but in that moment, you only had one person on your mind.

“Hey, handsome.”

Silence.

Then, a breathy response came through the radio.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was softer than it ever was during a race. Always so composed, never losing focus—never even swearing, like many of his opponents—yet you could tell by the slight drop in his tone that he was smirking.

You grinned, your heart racing. “You look good out there.”

The air shifted in the garage, the engineers going silent as they eavesdropped on the comms.

“You should see me up close,” Hotch murmured back, and you swore you could feel the weight of his words in your chest.

Hotch flirting mid-race? The fans were going to have a field day with this recording you thought.

You bit back a laugh, suddenly feeling a flutter in your chest. “I’ll hold you to that,” you teased, voice dropping just slightly. “But I think P1 would look even better on you. Let Max eat your exhaust fumes”

A breath from him, holding together a laugh. Then, a low and steady reply:

“Copy that.”

The garage went completely still. The next few seconds would determine everything.

Lap traffic ahead. Two backmarkers. Hotch’s team didn’t even need to tell him twice. He saw the gap, recognized the opportunity, and now it was up to him.

The roar of the engine shifted, the engine note rising as Hotch pushed harder. Paul’s voice cut through the static. “Verstappen’s losing time in Zone 4. This is our chance.”

Hotch didn’t hesitate. He was already setting up for the move.

As they approached the Anderson Bridge, Max hesitated behind the Aston—which was unlike him. It was the opening Hotch needed.

ERS deployed.

He dove down the inside at Turn 12, braking impossibly late. The Ferrari twitched, almost losing the rear, but Hotch held it steady, centimeters from Max's rear.

And then—he was ahead.

The garage exploded into triumphant chaos. “He’s done it!” “He’s in P1!”

Your heart raced, your hands trembling as you pressed the comms button again, breathless with excitement. “Aaron, you absolute machine.”

Through the radio, you heard his low chuckle. “Told you to hold on tight.”

Final lap.

You barely registered the world around you. You were all but consumed by the sheer will of the moment. Every corner was a battle. Every turn was his. The world around you blurred into the background, the only thing that mattered being Hotch and the finish line that was now within reach.

Turn 17.

Turn 18.

The final corner.

The checkered flag waved.

“AARON HOTCHNER WINS THE SINGAPORE GRAND PRIX!”

The words rang in your ears as the Ferrari surged across the line, the crowd roaring, the Tifosi screaming in unison. It was over. The moment had arrived.

The Ferrari garage erupted. Headsets slammed onto tables—clearly not caring if they broke—engineers leaped into each other's arms, and bottles of champagne were already being cracked open. On the pit wall, a sea of red uniforms flooded the monitors, clapping, shouting, barely able to contain themselves as the realization set in—Aaron Hotchner had just won the Singapore Grand Prix. Your breath caught, hands pressed to the headset, every nerve in your body still wired from the last ten laps. The tension had been unbearable—Max had been defending his spot like his life depended on it, and for a while, it seemed like P2 was where Hotch would finish his racing days.

Until he didn’t.

The radio was full of cheering, the entire Ferrari team shouting over each other. Hotch’s voice finally broke through—breathless, steady, softer than you expected. “Yes!” A rare burst of raw emotion. “That was—unbelievable. Thank you, guys.” Paul, his race engineer, was practically laughing.

“Aaron Hotchner wins in Singapore! What a move. What a drive. P1, baby!”

And you? You pressed the comms button, voice teasing. “Told you P1 would look good on you.”

A chuckle—low, warm, the kind of laugh that curled through you like fire on a cold day. “Guess I couldn’t let you down.”

Your fingers tightened around the headset. Out on the circuit, he was still weaving his car side to side on the cool-down lap, burning the last of the fuel, fans screaming his name from the grandstands. Red flares ignited in the sky, casting a glow over the Marina Bay circuit.

The final results came in:

🥇 Aaron Hotchner | Ferrari

🥈 Max Verstappen | Red Bull

🥉 Charles Leclerc | Ferrari

A Ferrari double podium in Hotch’s last race. If the garage had been loud before, it was deafening now. But you stayed rooted in place, eyes locked on the screens.

He pulled into parc fermé, stopping in front of the #1 marker. Engine off. Helmet off. You watched as he climbed out of the car, sweat-soaked fireproofs clinging to his body, hair damp, chest rising and falling as he took in the moment, before climbing on top of his car, with his helmet raised to the sky.

And then—That smile. Not the usual, small, controlled one. This was real. Wide, bright, a kind of happiness he couldn't control. Mechanics surrounded him first as he climbed back down, clapping his back, congratulating him. He took it all in stride, shaking hands, hugging his engineers. But then—He started searching for something.

No, not something.

Someone.

You.

The second the cameras shifted to the post-race interview area, you ran. Through the garage, past team personnel, ducking under barriers as you weaved through the sea of red. And then he saw you. A split second of recognition—Then open arms.

You collided with him, the scent of fuel, sweat, and somehow champagne already clinging to his suit, but you didn’t care. His arms locked around you, tight, body still thrumming with adrenaline. His voice was hushed, just for you.

“I was waiting for you.” Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the hammering heartbeat. “Had to make sure you really won.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “You doubted me?”

“Never.”

The Ferrari crew around you whistled, someone muttering something about "Hotch getting a different kind of trophy tonight." You flushed, but Hotch only laughed under his breath, fingers brushing the side of your face before a team official clapped his shoulder.

“Podium time, Hotch.”

You squeezed his wrist. “Go. I’ll be watching.” His gaze lingered before he nodded, turning towards the podium ceremony.

The circuit was alive with energy. Red flares burned, fans roared, and the Ferrari team crowded together in the pit lane, waving flags and cheering.

At the top of the paddock, the podium gleamed under the bright floodlights, a red carpet leading up the stairs where FIA officials and race stewards stood waiting. Above, the massive digital screen displayed the final race standings: Aaron Hotchner in P1. Max Verstappen in P2. Charles Leclerc in P3. If anyone was unsure of the standings.

You stood just below the stage with the rest of the team, heart racing as you watched Hotch climb the steps. His suit was still damp with sweat, the red and black fabric clinging to his body, and yet he carried himself with that same unwavering confidence, like a man who had done this a thousand times before—which it felt like he had. But this time was different. This was his last time.

The podium announcer’s voice echoed across the circuit, listing the finishing positions in order. Charles was introduced first, stepping onto the third-place podium to a chorus of cheers. He shook his head slightly as he adjusted his collar, still breathless from the race. Then Max, accepting his second-place finish with the usual tight-lipped nod, the competitive edge in his eyes refusing to dull—no doubt he would power through several simulations the following days.

But it was when the announcer called Hotch’s name that the world seemed to explode.

Everything erupted. Fans chanted his name, flares burned brighter in the night, and as he stepped onto the highest tier of the podium, he exhaled slowly, drinking it in. His final podium. His final win. But instead of sadness, there was peace in the way his shoulders dropped slightly, in the way he ran a hand over his jaw before placing the Pirelli cap on his head.

Even with the weight of history, of legacy, of an entire nation behind him, his gaze still searched for you.

The American national anthem played first, Hotch standing motionless as the flag was raised above him. Then the Italian anthem, and if the fans had been loud before, they were deafening now. Every single word was sung, voices carrying over the circuit, filling the air with pure, unfiltered passion. And through it all, Hotch stood tall, head slightly bowed, fingers flexing at his sides. You had never seen him look so at home.

One by one, the trophies were presented. Charles accepted his first, shaking his head with an exasperated smile before turning to congratulate Hotch with a playful nudge. Max followed his grip tight on his trophy, still smirking slightly like he was already thinking about the next race. And then, finally, the presenter stepped forward with the massive gold-plated winner’s trophy.

The weight of it was nothing compared to the moment itself, but Hotch lifted it with ease, raising it high above his head.

The second the trophies were set down, the champagne bottles were cracked open. Charles was the first to strike, popping his bottle and immediately drenching Max, who let out an indignant shout before retaliating. The two of them descended into absolute chaos, but Hotch, ever the strategist, waited—watching, calculating—before launching his own attack. He shook his bottle furiously, angling it just right before absolutely soaking Charles in champagne. Charles yelped, attempting to shield himself, but the cameras had already captured his fate. The crowd ate it up, loving every second of the carnage, knowing that they would miss the relationship between Hotch and Charles on the track.

Through it all, you watched, heart swelling with something deeper than pride, something warmer than admiration. You had loved him in so many ways, in so many lifetimes, but seeing him here—drenched in champagne, racing suit and fireproofs sticking to his frame, a rare, boyish smirk on his lips—you had never loved him more.

And then, before you could react, he was moving. Away from the cameras. Away from the podium. Away from the crowd. And toward you. Not caring about the interviews.

His fingers curled around your waist, tugging you in until you were flush against him. He was still damp, still smelled of adrenaline and gasoline, but you didn’t care. His lips brushed your ear, voice low, teasing, the same voice that had made your heart race over the radio.

“I think I like winning.”

You let out a breathless laugh, pressing your hands against his chest. “Then why retire?”

He exhaled, warm against your skin, fingers grazing the small of your back. And then, softly and simply smiled—

“You know why.”

Because it had never been about injuries. It had never been about losing. Aaron Hotchner was retiring from Formula 1 because he had already won the most important thing of all.

You.

[junkissed]

can't get you out of my head

member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense. 

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[writingwithciara]

across the hall; part 5 -quinn hughes-

summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care

word count: 2.2k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader, toxic ex-boyfriend x reader

notes:

it was just after 2am when y/n finally got off of work. she had worked for over 12 hours and she was exhausted. all she wanted to do was go home, take a hot bath and put abby to bed.

but then she remembered that quinn had texted her during her break and informed her that abby wanted to stay at his place for the night. so when she got home, she would be alone.

she loved her daughter but there was not a whole lot of time she got to herself since becoming a mother. this was just one of the many reasons why she was thankful to have quinn in her life.

when she pulled into her parking spot, she spotted a familiar car a few spaces away from hers. and suddenly, she was hesitant to enter the building.

she did promise andy she would talk to him later, but in her mind, later meant the next day or maybe days from then. but he was persistent. so she headed up to her apartment.

just as she predicted, andy was sitting outside her apartment. when he saw her, he stood up and dusted off his pants.

"i was starting to get worried about you." he looked at her, seeing if there was any damage to her body. when he concluded there was not, he let out a sigh of relief. "quinn told me you would be home around midnight. so i've been waiting."

"yeah i figured." she sighed. "look, andy, i've had a really long and stressful day and i know i promised that we could talk later, but i just don't have the energy for that right now."

"that's what i thought was going to happen. but you don't have to do any talking. just listen, please?"

"3 minutes. that's all i can handle."

"can we go inside?"

"no. because if we do, i'll be too exhausted to make you leave and we both know that will not turn out well."

"i've changed, y/n. i really have." he took a hesitant step closer. "i know you may not believe me but i've been going to therapy and i've been making a ton of progress in making myself better. into a man who actually deserves someone as great as you or abby in my life." he looked at her. "i know it'll take some time but all i want is for you to give me one chance to prove it. please?"

"i'm tired, andy. can we talk more about this tomorrow?"

"can i take you out for lunch?"

"if that's what it takes to get you leave right now, then fine." she unlocked her door. "i'll meet you at the cafe that's 10 minutes from here."

"okay. thank you." he went to walk away. "can you bring abby?"

"i will not allow abby any time with you until you have proven to me that you're a changed man."

"okay fair enough. see you tomorrow." he walked away and y/n fought against her will to go inside. the logical part of her brain wanted her to go across the hall and see quinn but the tired part wanted her to just get some rest. she would see quinn tomorrow.

by the time she climbed into bed and got comfortable, the only thing on her mind was the man across the hall.

the next morning, y/n woke up earlier than she wanted. even with the 8 hours of sleep, she was still exhausted. but she had promised to meet andy for lunch so she had to get ready. she did it slowly but the end result was fine enough.

she went across the hall and knocked on quinn's door. he was rubbing his eyes when he answered but when he saw y/n, he smiled.

"good morning."

"good morning." she smiled back. "would you mind watching abby for another hour or two?"

"why? what's going on?"

"i stupidly told andy i'd meet him for lunch today to hear him out."

"oh." was all quinn said.

"yeah." y/n looked at him. "will you watch her?"

"of course." he smiled. "go hear him out. we'll be here when you get back."

"oh you're the best." she leaned up to kiss his cheek and headed towards the elevator.

that was twice in less than 24 hours that y/n had kissed his cheek and left him frozen in place. things continued to get confusing.

he shut the door and went to the kitchen to make abby some lunch. it was a good thing he was an excellent chef who was good with kids or else he wouldn't be doing this.

he chuckled when that thought crossed his mind because even if he wasn't either of those things, he would still keep an eye on abby because y/n asked him to. at this point, he would do anything she asked him to do.

-----

y/n looked at the coffee and sandwich in front of her as she mindlessly listened to andy explain how he wanted to be better for her and abby. she wanted to believe him but there was so many factors from her past that contradicted what he was saying. stuff that caused her to lose her trust in almost everyone.

"do you hate me?"

"why would you ask that?"

"you've been zoning in and out of this conversation for the last 10 minutes. either something is on your mind or you hate me."

"can't it be both?" she cracked a smile.

"i understand why you hate me, but please, don't deprive our daughter of a life without her father."

"it's not really entirely up to me, andy. i'll talk to abby and get back to you."

"if it helps, i brought presents for her for every holiday and birthday i messed up on. and i have stuff for you too."

"keep it. i don't want any of it."

"but what if abby does?"

"that's up to her." y/n sighed. "i'm taking her to the park later. if you happen to stop by, i can't stop you from seeing her, i suppose."

"so what does this mean then?"

"you're on probation, andy."

"fair enough." he stood up and paid for everything. "thank you for this chance."

"yeah yeah. it's your only one so if you screw this up, you won't be getting another one."

"understood. i'll see you later."

y/n sighed and waited another 10 minutes before heading back to the apartment. she walked into quinn's apartment without knocking and froze when she heard abby's giggling coming from the hallway. seconds later, quinn was running out with abby in his arms, guiding her around like an airplane. when he spotted y/n, he slowed down.

"we have arrived at our destination." he smiled and set her down on the floor. "go get your stuff, abby."

y/n watched her daughter run down the hall before turning to quinn. "i may have made a mistake, quinn."

"i'm guessing the talk didn't go well."

"no. it went better than expected, honestly." y/n looked at him. "i told him i was taking abby to the park later and that if he jut so happened to be there too, i couldn't stop him from seeing his daughter."

"oh."

"tell me if i made a mistake."

"i don't think you did. it's important for a girl to know her father. and it's up to you to set those boundaries." he smiled. "also, i've noticed that you've never made a mistake in the time i've known you. you always think every decision through before making one."

"thanks, quinn. i truly appreciate you and everything you do."

"i appreciate you too." quinn pulled her into a gentle hug. one that she melted into without a thought.

"can quinn come to the park with us today, mom?"

"i would love to, but i got plans with some of the guys from the team. maybe next time, sweetheart." quinn bent down to give abby a hug.

"okay, quinny." abby smiled and headed across the hall. y/n turned to quinn with a grin.

"quinny?" she giggled.

"she started calling me that last night." quinn smirked. "think she likes me."

"dude, she loves you. you're great with her and i appreciate it."

"anything for you." quinn touched her shoulder gently and left her in the hallway. y/n blinked for a few seconds before going to her apartment and grabbing abby.

an hour later, the girls sat down for a picnic when y/n saw andy approaching them. she gave him a signal to stop for a second before she turned to abby.

"hey. um, your dad wants to visit you. would you be interest in that?"

"i guess. he's gonna come around even if i say no, isn't he?"

"yeah i guess so." y/n waved her hand towards him, telling him to move slowly.

"hey. mind if i join you?" he looked at abby. she nodded and looked back at her food, not wanting to engage with him.

andy took a seat next to y/n and set his bag down. "remember the gifts i mentioned?"

"mhm." y/n looked at her phone, wanting nothing more than to text quinn.

"well i brought a couple of them with me and was hoping you girls would accept them."

"presents?" abby set her food back on the plate and turned to face andy as he pulled out 3 gifts. he placed them on the table and abby began opening them.

"i told you i wasn't going to accept any gifts from you, andy." y/n eyed him for a second and went back to her phone.

"i know. but i was hoping you would accept this one." he placed a small jewelry box in front of her, finally catching her attention.

"you really think this is going to make me forgive you, andy? it's going to take a lot more than a necklace." she opened the box and she felt her eyes begin to water. inside the box was a locket with abby's name & birthday, while inside the locket was a picture of the sonogram & a picture of abby when she was 2. y/n's favorite picture. "i'll accept this one gift. but that doesn't mean you're forgiven."

"that's okay. it's a start, right?" he smiled his trademark smile and picked a piece of cheese off y/n's plate.

he ended up being so good with abby and everything he was doing was proving he really was a changed man. y/n hated that she was starting to fall back into his orbit so easily.

later that night, y/n actually let andy into her apartment for dinner. he even joined her in tucking abby in for bed. it felt like they were a family as andy put his arm around y/n when they walked out of the room. she walked him to the door and before he left, he turned to her.

"i just want to thank you again for allowing me to have this day with you guys. i know i've been a terrible person in the past but i hope today was proof that i'm really trying to change. and not just for abby. i'm trying to be a man that deserves someone as wonderful as you."

"you're still on probation, but if i'm being honest, your behavior today has shown a lot of promise."

"i'm glad you feel that way." he slid his hand down her arm and gently grabbed her hand. "i missed you, y/n."

"goodnight, andy." against her better judgement, y/n leaned up and placed a kiss on andy's cheek before he left. just as she was about to shut the door, quinn came out of his apartment.

"hey. how was your day?"

"it was surprisingly good. i think andy may actually be a changed man."

"well, be careful with who you give your heart to. i'd hate to see you get hurt, y/n."

"i appreciate you looking out for me, quinn. but i promise not to get too invested in this, just in case."

"you know i'm only saying this because i care about you, right?"

"i know. and i appreciate it." y/n touched quinn's arm the way andy had touched hers earlier. "thank you."

"you're welcome." he smiled and looked at where her hand was placed. "are you and abby free tomorrow? i have the day off before we have to go on the road for a week and i wanted to spend the day with my favorite girls before i go."

"i'm sure abby would love that, but i won't be able to make it. i work in the morning and i don't know when i'll be home."

"oh." quinn looked at her. "i totally understand. your job is important."

"i'll let you spend the day with abby tomorrow and the first day you get back from the trip, we can spend the day together. i'll make sure to book it off. i promise."

"okay. i would really like that."

"i'll drop abby off before i go to work, alright?"

"sounds good. i'll see you in the morning."

"good night, quinn." y/n kissed his cheek and headed back to her apartment.

quinn was never going to get used to the way she could freeze him with just one simple action.

----------

tags: @alwaysclassyeagle @justagingerliving @marroonwitch