#don’t let them distract you from the truth

[luvoooenha]

Lucky charm!

Pairing- Boyfriend! Jake x Girlfriend! Y/N

Summary- Jake, the top soccer player at UNI, always relied on Y/N’s support—until a huge argument left him distracted before a big game. Without her in the stands, he struggled to play, missing shots and worrying his team. Realizing how much he needed her, a teammate called Y/N, who debated but ultimately showed up, looking her best. The moment Jake saw her, his focus returned, and he played like himself again. After the game, they made up, proving that Y/N was truly his lucky charm.

Warnings- FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF, anger, angst, arguments, happy couple… (jokes! Not really)

Word count- 1.8k

plsplsplsplsplspls dont copyyy my work!

“You don’t get it, Y/N!” Jake’s voice was sharp, frustration thick in every word.

“Then explain it to me, Jake! Because right now, it feels like I’m the only one trying.” Y/N’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her voice shaking between anger and hurt.

Jake let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t care? That I don’t appreciate you?”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Jake, I’ve been to every single game, every late-night practice, every stupid press conference where they ask you the same questions. And not once have I ever complained.” Her voice broke slightly, but she pushed on. “But the second I bring up how I feel, I’m the bad guy?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The look in her eyes—raw and filled with unshed tears—made his chest tighten.

“I can’t keep doing this if you don’t want me here, Jake.”

His stomach twisted. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. But his stupid pride got in the way, and instead of telling her the truth—that he needed her more than anything—he muttered, “Maybe it’s better that way.”

The second the words left his lips, he wanted to take them back.

Y/N’s face fell, her jaw tightening as she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

And just like that, she turned and walked away.

Jake stood frozen, watching her disappear into the night.

He had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

-

The silence between them was louder than anything Jake had ever experienced.

Y/N hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. Hadn’t shown up to practice.

Jake told himself he was fine. That he could focus better without distractions. But when game day rolled around, it hit him like a freight train.

He jogged onto the field, scanning the stands on instinct. But the seat where she always sat—third row, left side, just behind the team bench—was empty.

His stomach clenched.

He tried to shake it off as the game started, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. His passes were off. His speed felt sluggish. Every shot he took either hit the post, went wide, or was blocked by the keeper.

The frustration built with every mistake, weighing him down like lead.

The final whistle blew, and UNI had lost. Jake barely heard the post-game speech from his coach, too busy replaying every missed opportunity in his head.

When he got back to the locker room, he didn’t even bother taking off his cleats right away. He just sat there, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor.

Jay, his closest teammate, nudged him. “Dude. What’s going on?”

Jake exhaled slowly. “Nothing. Just an off day.”

Jay scoffed. “Nah, man. This is more than that. I’ve never seen you play like this.” He paused. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Jay sighed. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but it’s obvious you’re a wreck without her.”

Jake clenched his jaw. “She’s probably better off.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Then why do you keep looking for her in the stands?”

Jake said nothing.

Jay grabbed his phone. “I’m texting her.”

Jake should’ve stopped him. Should’ve told him to leave it alone.

But he didn’t.

Y/N sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, as she mindlessly scrolled through her camera roll. Each swipe brought a new memory, a new reminder of everything she and Jake had been before it all fell apart.

There was a photo of him grinning at her during one of their late-night study sessions, his notes forgotten as he balanced a pencil between his nose and upper lip, trying to make her laugh. She had rolled her eyes at the time, but she could still remember the way her stomach had fluttered when he looked at her like she was the best part of his world.

Another picture—Jake, covered in sweat but grinning like a fool after a big win, his arm slung lazily around her shoulders. She had been laughing, caught mid-cheer, his jersey draped over her like a second skin. She had been so proud of him. She always was.

And then, one of her favorites—a candid shot of them from a lazy Sunday morning. Jake, shirtless and half-asleep, stealing bites of her breakfast as she swatted at his hand, laughing at his shamelessness. His hair had been a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but he had looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Y/N’s chest ached.

She missed him. More than she wanted to admit.

Her fingers hovered over his contact, the familiar urge to text him creeping in. But then, like a cruel reminder, his words echoed in her head.

"Maybe it’s better that way."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, locking her phone. If that was what he wanted, then fine. She wouldn’t be the one to break first.

But then, as if the universe was laughing at her stubbornness, her phone buzzed.

Jay: Jake’s a mess. He needs you. Badly.

Her heart clenched.

She should ignore it. He was the one who pushed her away. He was the one who made her feel like she didn’t matter.

But… if that were true, why was he struggling so much?

Y/N exhaled slowly, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes betrayed her, filled with something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

She could walk away. Let Jake figure this out on his own. Prove to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her.

But that was a lie.

Because no matter how angry or hurt she was… she still loved him.

And she wasn’t sure she ever wouldn’t.

With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her jacket and touched up her makeup.

If she was going, she was going to make an entrance.

She headed out the door, her heart pounding.

Jake needed her.

And whether she liked it or not… she needed him too.

-

Jake jogged onto the field, his mind clouded with doubt.

His body felt heavy, his nerves shot. The last few games had been a disaster, and the weight of failure clung to him like a storm he couldn’t outrun. He tried to shake it off, stretching his arms and bouncing on his feet, but nothing felt right.

Then, instinctively, he looked toward the stands.

And everything stopped.

His breath hitched. His heart stuttered.

Y/N was there.

Sitting in her usual spot—third row, left side, just behind the team bench.

Jake blinked, half-convinced he was imagining it. But no, it was real. She was real.

And damn, she looked good.

Her hair was styled just the way he liked, her makeup subtle but stunning. She wore his favorite shade, the one he always said made her eyes stand out, and even from across the field, he could see the way her lips curved in something between challenge and amusement.

She came.

A rush of energy shot through his veins, the kind he hadn’t felt since before she left. His pulse pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves—it was from something deeper, something electric.

His lucky charm had returned.

And just like that, everything clicked back into place.

The whistle blew, and Jake was unstoppable.

Every pass was precise, every shot powerful. He weaved through defenders with the confidence he’d been missing, his movements sharp and deliberate. The frustration that had been drowning him for days melted away, replaced by pure instinct.

And every time he scored, he didn’t look at the scoreboard. He didn’t look at his teammates.

He looked at her.

Y/N sat there, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed. But he saw the way her lips twitched, the way her fingers tapped against her thigh. She was proud of him—he knew it.

By the final whistle, UNI had secured the win. The crowd erupted in cheers, his teammates swarming him with congratulations, but Jake barely acknowledged any of it.

His eyes were locked on her.

Without a second thought, he sprinted toward the stands, pushing past the crowd. Y/N had already started making her way down toward the field, and when she stopped in front of him, they just stood there, staring at each other.

For the first time in days, Jake could breathe again.

“I was an idiot.” His voice was breathless, raw. “I didn’t mean any of it, Y/N. I was just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “I was scared. Of how much I need you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed. “Yeah? I figured, considering how hard you flopped without me.”

Jake huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I deserved that.”

“Damn right, you did.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, but Jake didn’t miss the way her tough exterior wavered, the way her eyes softened just slightly.

He took a step closer. “Y/N, I mean it. I never should’ve pushed you away.” His voice dropped to something quieter, more vulnerable. “You’re everything to me.”

She sighed, finally uncrossing her arms. “Jake… you can’t shut me out when things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

“I know,” he admitted, his gaze never leaving hers. “And I won’t. Ever again.”

Y/N studied him for a long moment, and then, finally, she sighed in defeat. “You’re lucky I like you, Sim.”

Relief crashed over him, and before she could say anything else, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms arowund her and pulling her in tight.

She hesitated for half a second before melting into him, her arms circling his waist.

Jake buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, and everything felt right again. “I missed you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she teased, voice muffled against his jersey. “I could tell from your embarrassing game stats.”

He chuckled, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Guess I need you to keep me in check.”

“Clearly.”

Jake reached up, brushing his thumb over her cheek, his voice softer now. “So… does this mean you’ll be at the next game?”

Y/N smirked. “As long as you keep winning.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering, “Then I guess I have no choice.”

Because she wasn’t just his biggest supporter.

She was his lucky charm.

isa note! - lallalala first story!!! lalalall so excited! lalalalalla

taglist~ @firstclassjaylee

if wanted to be tag plspslplspsls let me know! 💗

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2024-2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[gyuyoungg]

ULTRAVIOLENCE

wc: 281 𑂴⠀ ֺ  Noeulxfem!reader ៶ 𠈔

ׄ︶⊹︶⏝ׄ ㅤ abusive relationship, toxic Noeul, she hits you, open ending! 🪼𓈒𓏸

It had been five months since you broke up with your abusive girlfriend, No-eul. You had fought to leave, struggled to deny your feelings for her, but you just loved her too much.

“Who was she?!” No-eul yelled, following you around the house. You grabbed your jacket and quickly threw it on, still searching for your keys. “I’m telling you, she’s a work friend! I asked her to drive me home today!” you yelled as you knelt in front of your nightstand to retrieve your house keys.

You quickly stuffed the keys into your coat pocket and stood up just as No-eul pinned you to the wall. “Cut the fucking crap!” Your eyes widened as she yelled at you, a familiar rage flashing in her eyes. No-eul wasn’t great at managing her anger issues, and this was all too typical for you. You wriggled in her grasp as she tightened her hold, “Y/N… don’t make me say it again.”

“I’m telling the fucking truth—!” you started, but her hand struck your face. Stunned, you looked at the floor, letting your hair fall over your face as you touched the growing red mark. “Don’t fucking cuss at me,” she demanded, but you finally managed to push her weight off. In a hurry, you left the shared bedroom—one that seemed to grow smaller by the minute—and stepped out of the apartment.

Yet, you couldn’t shake the thought that the slap felt like a kiss…

Leaving your home wasn’t difficult; as a known singer, you had plenty of money. What troubled you was leaving No-eul. You had loved her deeply, but you couldn’t endure any more of her abuse.

Now, you found yourself backstage for your headlining show at Coachella. You checked your outfit in the mirror and took the microphone from your manager. “You’re up in 30 seconds!” she yelled. Excitement bubbled within you; performances were a fantastic way to distract yourself, and you always enjoyed them. As the entrance opened, you stepped onto the stage, greeted by the audience chanting your name and screaming.

“HELLO COACHELLA!” you yelled with an amused smile. The crowd roared back, cheering you on as the intro to your first song began. What you hadn’t expected was to see a very familiar face in the crowd. Your gaze lingered a moment too long on the smirking figure watching you like you were prey.

“She hurt me and it felt like true love,” you sang seductively into the microphone, maintaining direct eye contact with No-eul. “We could go back to New York…

Loving her was really hard.”

a/n: why did I cook chat… ALSO HOW THE HELL DO I MAKE MY ONESHOTS LONGER THEYRE ALWAYS SO SHORT??

[saebyeokbliss]

could u do a fic of saebyeok in college, but she sells drugs. Only cocaine, marijuana, and ecstasy. She does it so she can take care of cheol ofc. Saebyeok is also known to be a hoe. Constantly flirting with girls around campus so they can buy wtv drugs she has, sleeping w girls and then treating them like the don’t exist the next day. Yet saebyeoks fast life came to a complete stop when she met you. A shy girl who’s very clever. Saebyeok noticed a guy hitting on u w u visibly uncomfortable so saebyeok came to rescue you. After she asked if u had any money to buy some drugs off her to which you said you did’nt. Saebyeok asked if u smoked. The truth is you didn’t, you hated all drugs. It was embarrassing ur a 21 yr virgin hanging around saebyeok who has had her head in between a fair share of womens legs. Any ways you and saebyeok become fwb (friends w benefits). She acts like she doesnt like you,she says you guys are only using eachother to get off. She’s not entirely wrong but what happens when u both start developing feelings and saebyeok tells u a bit abt her personal life when shes high?

(Can we pretend saebyeok is 22 and reader is 21 🙏)

-💝( still dk if ur doing emoji anons it’s ok if not! No pressure)

ALL THE STARS

pairing: dealer!college au!kang sae-byeok x fem!reader synopsis: kang sae-byeok had a reputation around your college. the dealer, the girl who could get anyone she wanted. however, just like anyone else, she had a past and a life beyond what people called her. and you just happened to be the one to change her. warnings: angst, language, mentions of violence, illness, past trauma, drug use (past), recovery themes, slow burn, emotional moments, hurt/comfort

a/n: had this one brewing for while hehe

The red ink on the paper burned into your vision, each stroke of the professor’s pen a reminder of your failure.

72%.

It wasn’t failing, not technically, but for you? It may as well have been. You had always prided yourself on your intelligence, on your ability to stay ahead of the curve. But this? This was unacceptable.

Slumping in your seat, you shoved the paper into your bag, avoiding the pitiful glances from classmates who knew how much this would bother you. As soon as the lecture ended, you all but stormed out of the hall, only stopping when a familiar voice called after you.

“Hey, hey, slow down.” Ji-min grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop. Her brows furrowed as she studied your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You exhaled sharply. “I bombed the exam.”

Ji-min blinked. “Wait—bombed?” She scoffed. “What’d you get, a 90?”

“…72.”

Her lips parted slightly in surprise before she quickly schooled her expression into something more neutral. “Okay, so not your best, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“It feels like it,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

Ji-min sighed, looping her arm through yours as she led you out of the building. “You need to relax. You’ve been overworking yourself for weeks, and it’s catching up to you. It’s just one test, and you’ll bounce back—like you always do.”

You didn’t respond, letting her drag you along as you sulked in silence. Ji-min was probably right, but that didn’t make you feel any better.

“Which is exactly why,” she continued, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “you’re coming to the party tonight.”

You groaned. “Ji-min—”

“Nope. No arguing.” She tightened her grip on your arm. “You need a night to unwind. And don’t even try to say you have studying to do.”

“I do, though,” you huffed.

“You always do.” Ji-min shook her head. “But just this once, let yourself breathe. Have a little fun. You don’t even have to drink—just come, dance a little, talk to people. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because that’s exactly what I need right now.”

“Yes, actually.” She grinned. “A distraction.”

You frowned, hesitating. The idea of going to a crowded, sweaty party wasn’t exactly appealing, but… maybe Ji-min had a point. Maybe you did need a night to forget about everything—just for a little while.

“…Fine,” you relented, sighing.

Ji-min squealed in victory, squeezing your arm excitedly. “You won’t regret it.”

You had a feeling you just might.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, second-guessing every single choice you had made for the night.

The black miniskirt hugged your waist just right, and the red lace top was a little more revealing than what you usually went for, but Ji-min had insisted that you “embrace your hotness.” Paired with delicate white lace socks and Mary Janes, you looked… cute. Maybe even really cute.

But was it you?

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts. “Come on, let me see you!” Ji-min’s voice rang through your small apartment.

You sighed, smoothing down your skirt before stepping out. Ji-min’s eyes widened the moment she saw you, a grin stretching across her lips.

“Oh my God.” She grabbed your hands and spun you around. “You look adorable—but also kinda sexy? It’s giving ‘innocent but could ruin lives.’” She wiggled her brows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No, I’m being correct.” Ji-min smirked, looping her arm through yours as she led you toward the door. “Come on, let’s go before you change your mind.”

The party was already in full swing by the time you arrived. The bass of whatever rap song was playing vibrated through the walls, and the air smelled like a mix of alcohol, weed, and sweat. People were packed into the house, some dancing, some making out in corners, and others just drunkenly shouting over the music.

You hesitated in the doorway, already overwhelmed.

Ji-min, on the other hand, was in her element.

“Alright, I’m gonna go kick some ass in Apateu,” she said, referring to the drinking game she was obsessed with. She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine, yeah? Just get a drink, talk to people. You look too good to be standing alone all night.”

Before you could protest, she was gone, disappearing into the crowd with a wave.

You sighed, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall, feeling out of place. You weren’t much of a drinker, and you weren’t interested in hooking up with some stranger, so what were you even doing here?

Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when someone stepped into your personal space.

“Hey,” a voice drawled.

You blinked up at the guy standing way too close to you. He was tall, decently attractive, but the cocky smirk on his face made you uneasy.

“You here alone?” he asked, his eyes shamelessly roaming over you.

You shifted uncomfortably. “No, I’m with a friend.”

He chuckled, taking a sip of whatever was in his red cup. “Haven’t seen you at one of these before. You new?”

You shook your head. “Not really. Just don’t go to parties much.”

“Makes sense. You seem… different from the usual crowd.” His smirk widened as he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “In a good way.”

You forced a polite smile, wishing Ji-min would miraculously reappear and drag you away.

“So, you wanna dance?” he asked, stepping closer.

You took a step back, your heart starting to race—not in a good way. “I’m okay, thanks.”

“Oh, come on.” He reached out, fingers brushing your arm. “Just one dance.”

Your stomach twisted. You weren’t scared, not exactly, but the way he was looking at you, like you were something to be convinced, made you uneasy.

And then—

A voice, smooth and slightly amused, cut through the tension.

���She said no.”

You turned your head, and there she was.

Kang Sae-byeok.

You had seen her around campus before—everyone had. She was infamous. Mysterious, sharp-eyed, and always carrying that lazy smirk that made girls fall at her feet, only to be discarded by morning. She was trouble, the kind of trouble that came wrapped in leather jackets and cigarette smoke, the kind that left a mess in its wake.

And right now, she was looking at the guy in front of you like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“She said no,” Sae-byeok repeated, her voice firm, yet almost bored, like she had dealt with this kind of thing a hundred times before.

The guy scoffed, his grip on his drink tightening. “And who the hell are you?”

Sae-byeok tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes glinting under the dim party lights. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you back the fuck off.” She took a step closer, her presence alone enough to shift the energy in the air.

The guy hesitated, glancing between you and Sae-byeok, clearly debating whether it was worth pushing his luck. He must have decided against it because he let out an annoyed huff and muttered, “Whatever,” before disappearing into the crowd.

You exhaled, realizing you had been holding your breath.

“You okay?” Sae-byeok asked, her gaze flickering to yours.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

She studied you for a moment, then smirked. “He bothering you before I showed up?”

“Kind of,” you admitted, shifting on your feet. “He wouldn’t take the hint.”

Sae-byeok hummed, like she had expected that answer. “Guys like him are everywhere,” she muttered. Then, her smirk widened slightly. “Good thing you’ve got me, huh?”

You blinked. “I—uh—”

She chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered expression. “Relax. I’m just messing with you.” Her eyes flicked over your outfit, and she let out a low whistle. “Didn’t know girls like you came to these parties.”

You frowned. “Girls like me?”

She shrugged. “You just seem… different.”

You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “Ji-min dragged me here,” you admitted.

“Ah.” Sae-byeok nodded knowingly. “That makes sense.”

You raised a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked. “That you don’t really belong here.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught between offense and curiosity. “And you do?”

Sae-byeok chuckled, but there was something unreadable in her expression. “More than you think.”

Before you could ask what she meant, she leaned in slightly, close enough that you caught the faint scent of cigarettes and something sweet—maybe perfume, maybe something else.

“You got any money?” she asked, voice low.

You blinked, confused by the sudden shift. “What?”

“For a little something to take the edge off.” She smirked, tapping her fingers against her thigh. “Coke, weed, molly—I’ve got whatever you need.”

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t do drugs. You didn’t even drink.

“I don’t—” You hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. “I don’t do that stuff.”

Sae-byeok raised a brow, clearly surprised. “Really?”

You nodded.

She studied you for a second before her smirk returned, this time softer, almost teasing. “Cute.”

Heat crept up your neck. “I—I should probably find Ji-min.”

Sae-byeok chuckled, stepping back slightly. “Go ahead.”

You hesitated for a moment before turning to walk away, but you barely took two steps before her voice stopped you.

“Hey.”

You glanced over your shoulder.

Sae-byeok tilted her head, her dark eyes flickering with something unreadable. “See you around, yeah?”

You swallowed hard. “…Yeah.”

And with that, you disappeared into the party, your heart pounding for an entirely different reason than before.

The children’s home was always quieter than you expected.

You had been coming here for nearly a year now, visiting your little sister, Yu-jin, whenever you could. And yet, every time you stepped through those doors, the sterile stillness of the place made your chest tighten.

Yu-jin’s face lit up the moment she saw you, her small frame practically tackling you in a hug. “Unnie!”

You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around her. “Hey, baby. Did you miss me?”

She pulled back just enough to pout up at you. “Obviously.”

Your heart ached. She was only eight, still too young to really understand why she was here, why your parents—if they could even be called that—had decided she was too much to take care of. But she understood enough to know that you were the only one who still came back for her.

You spent the next hour with her, playing board games, helping her braid the hair of one of her dolls, and listening to her ramble about the latest school drama—who stole whose eraser, who got in trouble for talking too much, and how she definitely deserved extra dessert at lunch today.

It was a small escape, a moment where you could pretend things were normal.

But eventually, visiting hours started to wind down, and you had to say goodbye.

Yu-jin clung to your waist as you knelt in front of her. “You’ll come back soon, right?”

You smiled, brushing some hair out of her face. “Of course. I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

She huffed. “Too late for that.”

Your chest tightened again, but you just pressed a kiss to the top of her head before gently prying her arms from around you. “Be good, okay?”

She nodded reluctantly, stepping back as one of the caretakers came to usher her inside.

You watched until she was out of sight before turning to leave, your heart heavy.

And that’s when you saw her.

Kang Sae-byeok.

She was walking down the hallway, hands shoved in the pockets of her oversized hoodie, her face unreadable. But what caught your attention wasn’t just her—it was the fact that she had just come from the same visiting area you had.

For a moment, she didn’t see you. But then, just as she was about to walk past, her dark eyes flickered up and met yours.

Recognition flashed across her face—followed immediately by something else. Something guarded.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe a simple “hi,” maybe a question about why she was here, but before you could get a word out, she brushed past you without a single glance back.

No smirk. No teasing remark. Nothing.

Just silence.

You stood there, stunned, watching as she disappeared through the exit like she couldn’t get away fast enough.

And for the first time since meeting her, you saw a version of Sae-byeok that had nothing to do with her reputation, with the confident, untouchable girl who flirted with strangers and sold drugs like it was second nature.

This was something else entirely.

And you weren’t sure what to make of it.

You really needed to start saying no to Ji-min.

Another party, another night of being dragged into a place where you didn’t belong. The music was loud, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and weed, and bodies moved together in a sweaty, chaotic rhythm.

You sighed, nursing the same half-empty cup of soda you had been holding for the past twenty minutes. Ji-min had already disappeared into some drinking game, leaving you to lean against the wall, watching the party unfold around you.

And then—

A familiar voice, smooth and teasing, cut through the noise.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here again.”

You turned your head, heart stuttering for half a second.

Sae-byeok.

She was dressed in her usual effortless way—baggy jeans, a fitted black top, and her signature leather jacket slung over her shoulders. But it wasn’t just her presence that caught you off guard.

It was the fact that this time, she was actually talking to you.

“I could say the same about you,” you shot back, raising a brow.

Sae-byeok smirked. “Pretty sure that’s not true.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “What do you want?”

She tilted her head like she was considering something, her dark eyes scanning over you in a way that made your skin heat. “Maybe just some company.”

You blinked. “You? Want my company?”

She chuckled, leaning against the wall beside you. “Yeah, why not?”

You hesitated. After what happened at the children’s home, you half-expected her to keep avoiding you. But now, here she was, acting like that moment had never happened. Like she hadn’t practically run past you without a word.

Maybe it was better not to ask.

So instead, you shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Fine. But I’m not drinking, so if you’re trying to—”

“I don’t care about that,” she interrupted, smirk still in place. “Just talk to me.”

And so, you did.

You weren��t sure how it happened, but somehow, you and Sae-byeok ended up spending the rest of the party together. She wasn’t as closed-off as you’d expected—she was sarcastic, quick-witted, and had a way of making you laugh without even trying.

She also had a way of making you nervous.

Because the longer you talked, the closer she got. A hand on your waist as she leaned in to hear you better. Fingers brushing against your arm, her breath warm against your ear when she made a teasing remark.

By the time you realized what was happening, it was already too late.

You wanted her.

And she knew it.

Which was probably why, an hour later, you found yourself pressed against your apartment door, Sae-byeok’s lips hot against yours.

You barely remembered how you got there. One second, she was murmuring something about leaving the party, and the next, her hands were on you, her jacket discarded somewhere on the floor as she kissed you like she had been waiting all night for it.

Your fingers tangled in her hair, a soft gasp escaping you when she pressed her body flush against yours. She tasted like cigarettes and something sweet, something undeniably her.

“This okay?” she murmured against your lips, her hands slipping under your shirt, warm against your skin.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah.”

That was all she needed.

The rest of the night blurred together in a haze of soft moans and tangled sheets, of Sae-byeok’s lips against your skin, her hands exploring every inch of you like she was mapping out something she planned to return to.

And when it was over, when you were both spent and lying in the quiet of your room, you half-expected her to leave.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she lay next to you, her breathing steady in the dim light. Not touching, not speaking. Just existing in the same space.

It felt like something shifted in the air between you.

Something unspoken.

Something neither of you were ready to acknowledge.

Not yet.

The thing about sleeping with Kang Sae-byeok was that it didn’t just stay in your apartment.

It bled into your everyday life—subtle but unmistakable.

At school, it was the way her hand would brush against your waist when she passed by in the hallway, her fingers just barely ghosting over the fabric of your skirt before she was gone. It was the way she’d smirk at you across the library, eyes dark with implication, as if daring you to recall exactly what she had done to you the night before.

It was in the stolen moments between classes, when she’d pull you into an empty classroom or an abandoned stairwell, pressing you against the wall with her lips on your neck, her hands slipping under your shirt just long enough to leave a mark—something only the two of you knew was there.

Yet no one ever caught on.

Not Ji-min, who still dragged you to parties without realizing you had already found the ultimate distraction. Not your professors, who had no idea that the reason you were sometimes a little dazed in class was because Sae-byeok had been between your legs just an hour before.

And certainly not the girls who still fell for Sae-byeok’s effortless charm, unaware that no matter how much she flirted, no matter how many lingering glances she gave them, she always ended up in your bed.

But if anyone should have noticed, it was Chae-won.

Chae-won was one of Sae-byeok’s old hookups—one of many, from what you had heard. She was also a regular customer, which was probably why she was currently pressed up against Sae-byeok outside of one of the campus buildings, whispering something in her ear.

You weren’t close enough to hear, but you didn’t need to.

You could tell exactly what was happening.

Sae-byeok, however, looked… bored.

She handed Chae-won a small baggie—probably molly, maybe coke—and took the cash in exchange, slipping it into her pocket without a word.

Chae-won, clearly expecting more, leaned in closer, her fingers trailing down Sae-byeok’s arm. “Come on, babe,” she murmured, her voice just loud enough for you to catch. “It’s been a while.”

Sae-byeok didn’t even hesitate.

“No.”

Chae-won blinked. “What?”

Sae-byeok sighed, stepping back slightly. “You got what you wanted,” she said, nodding toward the baggie in Chae-won’s hand. “Now go.”

Chae-won’s expression twisted into something almost petulant. “So that’s it? You’re just done with me?”

Sae-byeok’s gaze was flat. “Yeah.”

For a second, Chae-won looked like she might argue, but then she scoffed, shoving the drugs into her pocket. “Whatever,” she muttered before turning on her heel and stalking away.

Sae-byeok watched her go, her expression unreadable. Then, as if sensing your gaze, she glanced up—directly at you.

You raised a brow.

She smirked.

And just like that, she was walking toward you, slipping her hands into her pockets like nothing had happened.

The room was quiet except for the occasional hum of traffic outside your window and the soft rustling of sheets as Sae-byeok shifted beside you.

She was staying the night again.

It had started as just another hookup, another night tangled in each other, breathless and flushed against the sheets. But now, hours later, she was still here, lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling as she took another hit from the joint she had rolled earlier.

You watched as she exhaled slowly, the smoke curling lazily in the dim glow of your bedside lamp.

“You’re gonna stink up my room,” you muttered, but there was no real annoyance in your voice.

Sae-byeok smirked, turning her head to look at you. “You say that like I haven’t already.”

You rolled your eyes, but she wasn’t wrong. The scent of weed mixed with the lingering traces of sweat and sex—of her—was all over your sheets.

You expected her to just enjoy her high in silence, like she usually did. But tonight, something was different.

Because tonight, Sae-byeok started talking.

“You ever think about how fucked up everything is?” she mused, her voice slightly hazy from the weed.

You blinked. “That’s… vague.”

She chuckled, but there was something bitter underneath it. “I mean life. How some people just get fucked over from the start while others have everything handed to them.” She took another drag, then exhaled. “I used to think I could change that. Like, if I worked hard enough, I could make things better.”

You stayed quiet, sensing something deeper in her words.

Sae-byeok let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “But that’s bullshit. No matter how hard you work, if you’re born at the bottom, you stay at the bottom—unless you’re willing to do whatever it takes.”

You swallowed, watching the way her fingers tightened slightly around the joint.

“That’s why I do what I do,” she continued, staring at the ceiling again. “Selling, stealing, fucking people over if I have to. Because no one’s ever given a shit about me or my brother, so why should I play by the rules? The rules were never made for people like us.”

Her voice cracked slightly on that last part, and your chest ached.

You had known—or at least suspected—that her life wasn’t easy. But hearing it from her, hearing the raw frustration, the exhaustion, the pain in her words… it was different.

You hesitated before reaching out, gently taking the joint from her fingers and setting it aside in the ashtray.

She turned her head toward you, blinking slowly, her pupils blown wide from the high.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked softly.

Sae-byeok scoffed, but it lacked her usual sharpness. “Maybe I’m too high to shut up.”

You studied her for a moment before murmuring, “Or maybe you just don’t want to be alone with it anymore.”

She didn’t say anything, but the way her jaw tightened told you enough.

You moved closer, hesitantly brushing your fingers over hers. Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she turned onto her side, her dark eyes searching yours, something vulnerable flickering beneath the usual guardedness.

Then, suddenly, her lips were on yours.

It wasn’t like your usual kisses.

This wasn’t rushed, wasn’t just a means to an end. This was slow, deep, desperate in a way that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with something neither of you were ready to name.

You kissed her back just as fiercely, your fingers threading through her hair, pulling her closer, grounding her.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mingling in the quiet.

“I’m here for you,” you murmured. “Not just for this. For you.”

Sae-byeok tensed slightly, like she wasn’t sure how to process that.

But then, after a long moment, she exhaled and pressed her lips to yours again—softer this time.

The children’s home always had a certain stillness to it, but today, it felt different. Heavier.

You had barely stepped through the doors when the head caretaker, Mrs. Park, approached you, her expression unusually serious.

“Ah, you’re here,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “I was hoping to talk to you.”

Your stomach twisted. “Is Yu-jin okay?”

Mrs. Park hesitated, and that hesitation alone was enough to make your heart drop.

“She hasn’t been feeling well lately,” she admitted gently. “Nothing too alarming, but she’s been fatigued, hasn’t had much of an appetite, and she’s been getting a lot of bruises.”

You frowned. “Bruises?”

“She says she doesn’t remember how she got them,” Mrs. Park continued, concern etched into her features. “Normally, I’d assume it’s just roughhousing with the other kids, but… I think it would be best if you took her to a doctor.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Yu-jin was small, but she was tough. She rarely got sick, and when she did, she never complained about it.

If she was acting off, then something was really wrong.

“I’ll take her,” you said immediately. “I’ll call around and see if I can get an appointment for her soon.”

Mrs. Park nodded, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “She’s in the playroom. She’ll be happy to see you.”

You forced a smile, but your mind was already racing.

You didn’t have much money. Your parents had made sure of that when they dumped Yu-jin at the home and left you to fend for yourself. You could probably scrape together enough for a basic check-up, but if something more serious was going on…

You swallowed hard. You couldn’t think like that. Not yet.

Taking a steadying breath, you made your way to the playroom.

Yu-jin’s face lit up the moment she saw you, but as she ran toward you, you noticed it.

She looked pale. Too pale. And when she threw her arms around you, she felt too light, like she had lost weight since your last visit.

“Unnie!” she chirped, but her voice had a slight rasp to it.

You pulled back slightly, trying to keep the worry off your face. “Hey, baby,” you murmured, brushing some hair out of her face. “How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“Mrs. Park said you’ve been tired a lot,” you pressed gently.

Yu-jin pouted. “I just get sleepy. And my legs feel weird sometimes.”

Your stomach clenched.

You needed to get her to a doctor. Soon.

But how the hell were you going to afford it?

And Sae-byeok wasn’t stupid.

She noticed things.

She noticed the way your smile didn’t reach your eyes when you greeted her. The way your responses were shorter, more distant. The way you barely reacted when she slid a hand along your waist in the empty hallway between classes, when normally, you’d roll your eyes and tell her to behave.

At first, she didn’t say anything.

She just watched.

Waited.

But when you barely looked at her during the entire party Ji-min had dragged you to, she had enough.

The moment she got you alone—outside on the balcony, away from the swarm of drunken students—she pressed you against the railing, her hands bracketing you in, her dark eyes scanning your face.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked bluntly.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You’ve been weird all week.” Her head tilted slightly, searching your expression. “What’s going on?”

You swallowed, avoiding her gaze. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

Sae-byeok didn’t buy it.

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “You never get tired of this.” Her fingers brushed against your hip, her touch light but suggestive. “So what is it?”

For a second, you almost gave in.

Almost let her kiss the thoughts out of your head, let her hands distract you from the weight sitting heavy on your chest.

But you just… couldn’t.

Gently, you reached down and pushed her hand away.

“I’m just not in the mood,” you murmured, barely recognizing the words as they left your lips.

Sae-byeok froze.

It was small, barely noticeable, but you felt the way her body tensed for half a second before she pulled back.

She studied you, her expression unreadable.

Then, she scoffed lightly, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Huh.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” she muttered, glancing away. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”

And just like that, she was gone, disappearing back into the party without another word.

You exhaled, gripping the railing tightly as you shut your eyes.

You knew she wasn’t mad.

But you also knew that Sae-byeok didn’t do feelings.

And for the first time, you worried that she might take your distance as something it wasn’t.

That she might think you didn’t want her anymore.

When really, she was the only person you didn’t want to push away.

Sae-byeok hadn’t planned on staying long.

She never did when she came to visit Cheol. The children’s home always felt too sterile, too full of things she didn’t want to think about. But she came anyway—because Cheol needed her. Because she was the only one looking out for him.

But today, something was wrong.

The moment she stepped through the front gates, she noticed the emergency vehicle parked outside, its flashing lights casting eerie reflections against the windows. A group of caretakers stood near the entrance, their faces tight with concern as paramedics wheeled out a small gurney.

A child lay on it.

A little girl.

Sae-byeok barely spared the scene a glance. Kids got sick all the time. Accidents happened. It wasn’t any of her business.

She walked past them, slipping inside the building and heading toward the playroom where she knew Cheol would be.

When she found him, he was sitting on the floor, his coloring book open in front of him—but he wasn’t coloring. He was just staring at the page, gripping a crayon so tightly his knuckles were white.

Sae-byeok frowned, crouching down beside him. “What’s with you?”

Cheol glanced up, his face unusually serious. “Yu-jin got sick.”

Sae-byeok blinked. “Who?”

“My friend.” He pointed toward the door, as if she should’ve already known. “She was here with me. We were coloring, and then she said she felt dizzy. She tried to stand up, but she just—” He hesitated, swallowing hard. “She fell, noona. She wouldn’t wake up. The teachers called the ambulance.”

Something in Sae-byeok’s chest twisted uncomfortably.

She exhaled, ruffling Cheol’s hair in what she hoped was a reassuring way. “She’ll be fine,” she muttered. “Hospitals know what they’re doing.”

Cheol didn’t look convinced, but he just nodded, his small fingers still clenched around the crayon.

Sae-byeok sighed, about to change the subject—

Then, movement outside caught her eye.

She turned her head, glancing through the window just in time to see you rushing toward the caretakers, your face pale, your breathing uneven.

You were crying.

Sae-byeok went still.

You barely even spoke before one of the women gently grabbed your arms, trying to steady you, trying to explain something.

And suddenly, everything clicked.

The little girl.

Yu-jin.

Your sister.

Sae-byeok’s stomach dropped.

She had never asked much about your life. Never pried, never pushed. But she had seen you at this home before. She had known you were visiting someone.

And now, she knew exactly who.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched you wipe at your tears, nodding shakily to whatever one of the caretakers was saying before turning toward the emergency vehicle.

Sae-byeok wasn’t sure what she was doing before she was already moving.

Sae-byeok barely spared Cheol a glance as she stood up.

“I gotta go,” she muttered, ruffling his hair quickly before heading for the door.

She ignored the way he called after her, ignored the way her own pulse pounded in her ears.

Because right now, nothing mattered except getting to you.

By the time she stepped outside, you were still standing near the emergency vehicle, your hands shaking as you wiped at your face. The paramedics were already inside, shutting the doors, preparing to drive off.

Sae-byeok barely hesitated before striding up to you.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice sharp but not unkind.

You startled slightly, turning to her with wide, tear-filled eyes. For a second, you just stared at her, like you couldn’t believe she was actually here.

Then, your face crumpled, and you exhaled shakily.

“It’s Yu-jin,” you murmured. ���She—she’s been sick for weeks, but I thought—” You swallowed hard, gripping your arms as if to hold yourself together. “She collapsed. They think it’s aplastic anemia.”

Sae-byeok frowned. “What the hell is that?”

“It—it means her bone marrow isn’t making enough blood cells. She’s been pale, getting bruises, getting tired easily…” You inhaled sharply, shaking your head. “I should’ve taken her to a doctor sooner.”

Your voice broke on that last word, and Sae-byeok felt something clench painfully in her chest.

She wasn’t good at this. At comforting people. At knowing what to say.

But fuck, she hated seeing you like this.

So she did the only thing she could.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing your wrist firmly but gently.

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m coming with you.”

You hesitated, your lip trembling. “Sae-byeok, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “But I’m still going.”

You stared at her for a moment, like you were trying to find a reason to push her away.

But then, something in you gave in.

You nodded.

And without another word, the two of you got into your car and drove to the hospital.

Sae-byeok didn’t let go of your wrist the entire way.

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and something sterile, something cold.

You hated it.

You sat in one of the stiff plastic chairs in the waiting room, your knee bouncing anxiously, your fingers twisting together in your lap. The fluorescent lights above you buzzed faintly, but everything else had faded into white noise.

You could still see Yu-jin in your head—too pale, too small, strapped to a gurney with an oxygen mask over her face as they wheeled her away.

Your stomach twisted.

Beside you, Sae-byeok sat silently, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

She hadn’t left your side since you got here.

She hadn’t said much either—not since the nurse had told you that Yu-jin was being stabilized, that a doctor would come speak to you soon.

At first, you weren’t sure why she had come at all.

This wasn’t her problem. She didn’t do emotional support. She didn’t do waiting rooms or hospitals or sitting next to you while you tried to keep from falling apart.

But she was here.

And when your breath hitched, when your fingers clenched into fists against your thighs, she moved.

Wordlessly, her hand slid over yours, her fingers prying yours open, threading through them.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sae-byeok exhaled softly, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know.”

You turned to look at her. “She’s all I have.”

Sae-byeok’s jaw tightened slightly, her dark eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place.

Then, after a long moment, she squeezed your hand.

“No, she’s not.”

Your lips parted slightly, your pulse stuttering.

Sae-byeok didn’t elaborate.

She just kept holding your hand, grounding you, keeping you tethered to something solid as the minutes dragged by.

The waiting room had never felt so suffocating.

Every second that passed felt like an eternity, stretching thin over the weight pressing against your chest. Sae-byeok’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you grounded, keeping you from spiraling completely.

Then, finally, the doctor arrived.

She was a middle-aged woman with tired eyes and a clipboard tucked under her arm. She gave you a small, professional smile before sitting down across from you.

“You’re Yu-jin’s guardian?” she asked gently.

You nodded quickly. “Yes. How is she?”

The doctor sighed, folding her hands in her lap. “She’s stable for now, but her condition is serious. Aplastic anemia is rare, but it can be treated. However, it requires aggressive management—blood transfusions, medications, and in severe cases, a bone marrow transplant.”

Your stomach twisted. “A transplant?”

She nodded. “It’s the best chance for a full recovery, but it’s not easy to find a compatible donor. In the meantime, we’ll need to start her on immediate treatments to manage her symptoms.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears. “And… how much will that cost?”

The doctor’s expression softened, as if she had been expecting that question. “That depends. Do you have insurance?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it.

Your fingers curled against your jeans, gripping the fabric tightly. You could feel Sae-byeok watching you, waiting for your answer.

But you didn’t have one.

Because you already knew the truth.

You had nothing. No insurance. No savings. Just barely enough money to scrape by, let alone pay for something as massive as this.

But you couldn’t say that.

Not out loud.

So instead, you swallowed past the lump in your throat and forced a small, polite smile.

“Thank you for your help, doctor,” you murmured.

The woman hesitated, her gaze flickering over you, as if she could see the weight of what you weren’t saying.

But she just nodded. “Of course. I’ll have a nurse bring you the paperwork soon. In the meantime, you can see Yu-jin once she’s moved to a room.”

You nodded stiffly, watching as the doctor stood and walked away.

The second she was gone, you felt Sae-byeok shift beside you.

“You don’t have insurance,” she said flatly.

You inhaled sharply, keeping your eyes on the floor. “I’ll figure something out.”

Sae-byeok didn’t respond right away.

Then, quietly—

“You can’t pay for this, can you?”

Your throat tightened.

You couldn’t look at her.

Because if you did, you’d break.

So instead, you just squeezed your hands into fists, forcing yourself to take a deep breath.

“I’ll figure it out,” you repeated, but the words felt empty.

Because you had no idea how.

Lunch at school was usually loud—full of chatter, laughter, and the occasional shouting match over stolen food.

But at your table, it was quiet.

You barely touched your tray, pushing food around absentmindedly with your chopsticks. Your mind was still at the hospital, still stuck in that suffocating waiting room, still haunted by the sight of Yu-jin lying in that hospital bed, too small, too pale.

Sae-byeok sat across from you, watching.

She had been watching you all morning.

And when she finally spoke, her voice was calm. Steady.

“Here.”

You blinked, looking up just in time to see her slide something across the table toward you.

A thick envelope.

You frowned. “What is this?”

Sae-byeok didn’t answer right away. She just leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“Take it,” she said simply.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the envelope before finally picking it up and peeking inside—

And your breath caught.

It was cash.

A lot of cash. Stacks of bills, neatly bundled together, more money than you had ever held in your hands before.

Your stomach twisted. “Sae-byeok…”

“For Yu-jin,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head immediately, pushing the envelope back toward her. “No. No, I can’t take this.”

Sae-byeok’s jaw clenched. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, I do!” Your voice was quiet but urgent, pleading. “Sae-byeok, this is your money. You worked for this. I can’t take everything you have—”

“I don’t need it,” she interrupted.

You swallowed, shaking your head again. “Please,” you whispered. “Don’t do this.”

For the first time, something flickered in her expression. Maybe frustration. Maybe something else.

But after a moment, she exhaled, grabbing the envelope and shoving it back into her bag.

“Fine,” she muttered. “I won’t force you.”

You sagged with relief. “Thank you.”

Sae-byeok didn’t say anything.

She just nodded, finishing her food in silence.

You thought that was the end of it.

You thought she had listened.

But you should’ve known better.

Sae-byeok skipped her afternoon classes.

No one stopped her when she slipped out the back of the school, her bag slung over her shoulder, her hood pulled up.

She had a job to do.

Getting to the hospital didn’t take long. She had been there before, knew her way around well enough. And it wasn’t hard to figure out where to go—she had overheard the doctor say Yu-jin’s name, had seen the forms in your hands.

Kim Yu-jin.

When she reached the billing office, she didn’t hesitate.

The receptionist barely glanced up. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pay a bill,” Sae-byeok said smoothly, pulling out the envelope of cash and setting it on the counter. “For Kim Yu-jin.”

The receptionist blinked, clearly surprised. “Are you a family member?”

Sae-byeok didn’t even flinch. “Yeah.”

The woman hesitated before nodding, typing something into the computer. “Alright. The family still has a significant balance, but this will cover a large portion of the immediate treatments.”

“Good.”

The receptionist paused, glancing at the cash before looking back at her.

“No questions?” she asked carefully.

Sae-byeok met her gaze, unblinking. "Nope."

You knew something was wrong the moment you walked into the hospital.

The nurse at the front desk greeted you with a polite smile, the kind that only made your stomach twist.

“Good evening, Miss Kim,” she said. “We wanted to let you know that a substantial payment was made toward Yu-jin’s treatment earlier today.”

Your breath caught.

“What?”

The nurse nodded. “Yes, a young woman came in this afternoon. She said she was family and paid in cash.”

Your fingers curled against the counter.

A young woman.

Cash.

No.

No, she wouldn’t—

Your heart pounded as you spun on your heel, barely muttering a thank-you before storming out of the hospital.

You already knew where to find her.

Sae-byeok was leaning against the gate in front of the school when you found her, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world.

But the moment she saw your face, her expression shifted.

You didn’t slow down.

The second you reached her, you shoved at her shoulder—hard.

She barely stumbled, just blinked at you, unimpressed. “What the hell—”

“What did you do?” you hissed.

Sae-byeok exhaled, rolling her eyes. “You already know.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I told you not to—”

“And I told you that you didn’t have a choice.”

Your chest tightened. “That wasn’t your decision to make!”

Sae-byeok scoffed. “Yeah? And what was your plan, then? Huh?” She took a step closer, her voice low but sharp. “Just sit around and hope the money magically appears? Let Yu-jin get worse because you’re too fucking proud to accept help?”

You flinched, your throat tightening. “That’s not—”

“She needs treatment,” Sae-byeok snapped. “She needs money. And you don’t have any.”

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. “And you do?”

She didn’t answer.

But she didn’t have to.

Because you knew.

You had always known.

Sae-byeok didn’t have a normal job. She didn’t come from money. The cash she had given you—it wasn’t clean.

And she had spent it all on you.

Your eyes burned.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered.

Sae-byeok’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, well.” She looked away, exhaling sharply. “Too late.”

Something in you cracked.

Because this—this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. You weren’t supposed to need her. You weren’t supposed to owe her.

But now, you did.

And you had no idea how to handle that.

So instead, you just inhaled shakily, shaking your head. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

Sae-byeok studied you for a long moment.

Then, quietly—

“I don’t want your money.”

You swallowed. “Then what do you want?”

She hesitated, her fingers twitching slightly in her pockets.

Then—

“You.”

Your breath hitched.

But before you could even begin to respond, she turned away.

“Come on,” she muttered. “I’ll walk you home.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

But the weight of her words stayed with you the entire way back.

[empressdede]

The Secretary - 4

Chapter Four

Previous

Serena sat on the edge of her hotel bed, gripping her phone like it was a lifeline. She needed a distraction—something, anything, to pull her mind away from Roman Reigns and the way he had looked at her like he wasn’t going to let this go.

So, she did what she always did when she needed grounding.

She called her mom.

After a few rings, the familiar, warm voice filled her ear. “Hey, baby girl! This is a surprise.”

Serena smiled faintly, sinking back into the pillows. “Hey, Mom. Just thought I’d check in.”

Her mom chuckled. “Oh, so you do remember you have a family? I was starting to think WWE kidnapped you.”

Serena laughed, shaking her head. “It feels like it sometimes.”

“Well, I’m glad you called.” There was a pause, then the inevitable question. “So… how’s everything with the new job?”

Serena opened her mouth to answer automatically, but the words didn’t come out.

How was she supposed to answer that?

On paper, it was incredible. She worked for one of the most powerful men in the company, managing his every move with efficiency and precision. She was respected, trusted.

But behind closed doors?

She was standing on a line so thin it could break at any moment.

“Serena?” her mom prompted.

Serena hesitated before forcing out, “It’s… good.”

A pause.

Her mother wasn’t an idiot.

“Uh-huh,” she said, suspiciously. “That didn’t sound convincing.”

Serena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Serena chewed on her bottom lip, debating how much to say. She couldn’t tell her mom she almost kissed her boss—twice. That she had to remind herself every day why she couldn’t give in to something that felt inevitable.

Instead, she went with, “It’s a lot of pressure.”

Her mom hummed knowingly. “That I believe. But is it just the pressure?”

Serena froze. Her mom knew. She always did.

“…Mom.”

“Sweetheart,” her mom said gently, “I’ve known you your whole life. I can hear it in your voice. Something’s on your mind. And if you’re calling me for a distraction, that means it’s something big.”

Serena closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. Of course, she couldn’t fool her mother.

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted softly.

Her mother’s voice was calm, steady. “Then start by asking yourself this—what do you want?”

Serena’s stomach twisted.

That was the problem. Because deep down, she already knew the answer.

And she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to fight it anymore.

Serena gripped the phone tighter, her throat tightening as she stared up at the ceiling.

“I—I think I made a mistake.”

Her voice cracked, and she hated it. She hated the way her chest ached, the way her emotions threatened to spill over.

Her mother’s tone immediately softened. “Oh, sweetheart… talk to me. What happened?”

Serena squeezed her eyes shut, her free hand pressing against her forehead as if that would somehow keep her from falling apart completely. “I like him, Mom,” she whispered, barely able to admit it to herself, let alone out loud. “And it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

The words felt heavy, like she had been carrying them for too long.

Her mother was quiet for a moment, letting her breathe through it before speaking. “You’re talking about your boss, aren’t you?”

Serena let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“And when you say you like him…?”

Serena swallowed hard. “I mean—I really like him. More than I should. More than I ever meant to.”

As soon as she said it, the emotions she had been bottling up hit her all at once.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she could stop herself, she was crying—really crying—the kind of silent, exhausted tears that came when you finally admitted the truth you’d been running from.

Her mother’s voice stayed steady. “Oh, baby… it’s okay.”

Serena shook her head, even though her mom couldn’t see it. “No, it’s not okay. He’s my boss. I worked so hard for this job, and now—I don’t even know if I can do it without feeling like I’m walking on eggshells. And the worst part?” Her voice broke, and she covered her mouth, trying to hold back a sob. “I don’t even want to stop liking him.”

There. That was the real truth.

It wasn’t just about professionalism or boundaries or rules.

It was about the fact that, despite all of that… she didn’t want to push Roman away.

Her mother let her cry for a moment before gently speaking again. “Sweetheart… you can’t help how you feel. And from the way you’re talking, I don’t think this is just some silly crush.”

Serena let out a breath, wiping at her eyes. “It’s not. That’s the problem.”

Her mom was quiet for a second. “And what about him? Does he feel the same?”

Serena let out a weak laugh, still sniffing. “Oh yeah. That’s not even a question.”

Her mother chuckled softly. “Well, that’s something, at least.”

Serena groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Mom, this isn’t like some normal guy I can just date. He’s Roman freaking Reigns. He has the entire company on his shoulders. His whole life is controlled, and I—I don’t want to be just another complication for him.”

Her mother sighed. “Or are you scared of being something more to him?”

Serena’s breath caught.

She hadn’t even considered that.

Her mother continued, her voice wise and knowing. “Look, honey. I can’t tell you what to do. But I can tell you that running from how you feel isn’t going to make it go away. And if he feels the same, maybe this isn’t the mistake you think it is.”

Serena wiped at her face again, her emotions still raw, but her mom’s words settled into her chest, deep and undeniable.

Because maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t a mistake at all.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You think we getting close yall? 👀 Thank you Guys for reading so far🥺🫶🏾

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[rickybaby]

Race pace teammates comparison | Dutch Grand Prix 2024

Daniel has the largest pace gap to his teammate on a one stop strategy

[fear-is-truth]

BEING IN A POLY RELATIONSHIP WITH THANOS & NAM-GYU l headcanons

pairing — thanos x reader x nam-gyu warnings — (mild) s2 spoilers. smut author’s note — i wrote some corny lyrics for this lol

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

thanos recruited you into his “team” because of his attraction to you. the rapper didn’t try to hide that he found you hot, and he made sure you knew it, throwing compliments your way. his flirting was over-the-top and shameless. he’d call you “senorita” or “babe” in a sing-song voice, leaning in close to make sure you couldn’t ignore him. his favourite move was to serenade you with cheesy raps that made everyone cringe.

one day, thanos sidles up to you, a wide, cocky-ass smirk plastered on his face. he’s got his hands on his hips, like he’s about to drop the hottest bars in the universe. “yo, senorita,” he starts, “you’re the queen of my world, can’t you see? ain’t no one gonna take my throne, you and me, together, baby, we’re destiny!” while nam-gyu, in the background, is rolling his eyes so hard he could probably see the back of his skull. but thanos keeps going, totally into it, “baby, we can rule the game, you and i, got them all thinking i’m the reason they’ll die. you’ll be my queen, i’ll be your king, together we’ll make this whole thing sing!” it’s a miracle you don’t combust from secondhand embarrassment.

nam-gyu, as thanos’s second-in-command, was pissed from the start. in the beginning, it seemed like he was just territorial—angry that you were disrupting the group dynamic. he’d throw side comments like, “oh, great, now we’ve got a distraction,” and give you cold, assessing looks. his irritation was obvious, especially when thanos started giving you preferential treatment, like sitting beside you during meals or casually throwing an arm over your shoulder during group talks.

he tried to act more “mature” than thanos (spoiler: he wasn’t). his idea of flirting was to act tough, which mostly involved bullying weaker players to look impressive. it was like watching a middle schooler try to flex for their crush. in reality, he just looks like an asshole, and you feel annoyed by his attempts to bully someone into submission to show off. he catches your disapproving glare and immediately tries to backtrack, but it just makes it worse.

thanos wasn’t subtle about his future plans for you. “after we win this thing, you’re coming with me,” he promised you confidently. “i’ll make you my official girl. the fans will eat it up—thanos and his queen.” he didn’t ask if you wanted that, just assumed you’d go along with it lol. nam-gyu, on the other hand, played dirtier. when thanos wasn’t around, he tried to plant seeds of doubt in your mind, leaning in to whisper confidentially. “he’s a scumbag, you know. all talk, no loyalty. don’t let him fool you,”

during meals, both of them insisted on sitting next to you, even if it meant practically wrestling each other to the ground. there were no tables, just groups eating near the bunk beds or stairs leading up to them, and you always ended up sandwiched between the two guys. thanos would slouch with his arm around your shoulders, smirking at anyone who looked your way. nam-gyu would mutter snide comments under his breath, low enough for you to hear, but not enough for thanos to notice.

then came the game “mingle,” where the players had to group up based on a random number announced over the PA system. when the voice said “two,” both thanos and nam-gyu grabbed your arm at the same time. “she’s going with me,” thanos barked, pulling you toward him. “what the fuck about me?” nam-gyu shot back, tugging you in the opposite direction. if it hadn’t been for se-mi, who quickly pulled you into a room with her (the two boys found a room next to you), the four of you would’ve fucking died.

the tension escalated at night. at first, both of them insisted on sleeping next to your bunk bed. but as time went on, they started fighting over who got to sleep in your bed. it started as bickering—“move, she doesn’t want you here,” nam-gyu would snap, trying to shove thanos aside. “speak for yourself, bro,” thanos would shoot back, climbing up anyway. it’s like a power struggle between two self-proclaimed alpha males, but it’s over you, which just feels awkward. each one tries to subtly imply their superiority by making the argument about who has the better “qualifications” to be your bunkmate. eventually, the rivalry reached its peak when they both tried to squeeze into your bed at the same time. you ended up stuck between them, neither willing to back down, and neither particularly caring how uncomfortable it made you.

despite the rivalry, the situation eventually settles into some sort of… equilibrium. neither thanos nor nam-gyu backed down completely, but they seemed to reach an unspoken agreement. the two of them started “sharing” you, like some fucked up custody arrangement.

you start to realise that maybe—just maybe—this unholy triangle might not be such a bad thing after all. meal time turned into a prelude for something else entirely. when everyone was distracted, one of them would catch your eye, silently signaling for you to follow. you’d find yourself slipping away to meet them in the bathroom stall.

thanos is all energy, and unable to shut up—being balls deep inside you, his dirty talk came easily, an endless stream of words that tumbled out in rapid succession, that had you equal parts flustered and irritated. especially with how careless he was. you’d have to kiss him just to silence him, pressing your lips to his until his words were replaced by muffled groans. whenever you grabbed his hair, his reaction was instant—a breathy whimper that only seemed to spur him on more. but almost as quickly as the sound left his lips, he was smirking, leaning in to tease you. “don’t mess it up, baby,” he’d warn, his voice playful yet smug. “this shit cost a lot to style.”

nam-gyu, in contrast, was rougher and far less interested in theatrics. he wasn’t one for words—far too focused to waste time on anything unnecessary. he had you pinned firmly against the partition wall, the cool surface digging into your back as beads of perspiration formed along his brow. the thin structure trembled violently under the sheer force of his movements, creaking with every thrust as though it might give way at any second. the silence between you was broken only by a few curses and grunts that escaped him.

[sugarplumfairy777]

🧁⊹ ࣪ ˖🍦₊˚⊹♡🍰#iamgodduh

I Am God. It’s time to wake up and realize who you really are. You are God. There’s no more pretending, no more looking outside yourself for answers. You hold the power, you create your reality, and nothing, not a single thing can stand in your way once you fully embrace this truth. The universe doesn’t control you, it responds to you. You are the one who sets the tone. You are the force that shapes the world around you. Stop giving away your power. You are not a victim of your circumstances. You are not waiting for permission from anyone, or some higher being, or a series of events. You are it. You have always been the one in charge. Every desire you have, every dream you want to chase—those things are already yours. They exist because you decided they would. And the moment you choose to own that power, everything shifts. Manifestation isn’t some mystical, out-of-reach thing. It’s you remembering that you have the ability to pull anything into existence. Want something? It’s already done. The moment you believe that, the moment you stop doubting your own divinity, the world around you has no choice but to reflect it. You are the creator, the architect, the god of your own universe. When you own that, everything starts to move in your favor. It’s time to stop questioning. Stop waiting for signs. You are the sign. You are the one who creates. You are the one who bends reality. The universe doesn’t work on its own schedule, it moves when you move. It shifts when you make the decision that you’ve had enough of waiting for things to happen. It’s time to create what you want. Right now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now. You are powerful beyond measure. Your mind is the tool that shapes everything. Your energy is the force that calls in everything you’ve ever wanted. And let me tell you something: no one, and I mean NO ONE, can take that from you. You are the divine in human form. There is no higher power. There is only you; god.

Pure consciousness is your natural state. It’s not something you have to work toward or search for. It’s not some far-off destination you’re trying to reach. It’s already inside of you, your god. It’s who you are, right here, right now. The moment you stop identifying with the noise of the world, the distractions, and the endless chatter in your mind, you begin to realize the power that resides within you. Pure consciousness is the space where you are everything and nothing at once. It’s where you drop all the layers that you’ve built around yourself your fears, your doubts, your limiting beliefs and you realize you are the observer of all things. You are the creator, the energy, the force behind every single moment. Inducing pure consciousness isn’t a hard task, but it requires trust. You have to trust in the fact that you are already whole. That you are already powerful. That you don’t need to “do” anything to be worthy of what you want. You don’t need to beg for life to give you what you deserve. You already are the life you want. The more you realize that, the more everything around you begins to reflect it. Your thoughts become clear, your desires become obvious, and your reality shifts effortlessly into alignment with who you truly are. In pure consciousness, there is no need to chase. There is no need for constant action or striving. It’s not about forcing things to happen; it’s about realizing that everything you want is already happening. Your power is in your awareness. The more you become conscious of the fact that you are the creator of your reality, the more everything begins to flow. You align with your desires simply by knowing you are them. Pure consciousness is where you transcend the idea of separation. There is no “outside world” when you’re in it. There’s only you, the infinite, boundless energy that flows through all things. You stop feeling like you’re chasing something because you already are everything you want. You don’t need to force anything. You don’t need to try to become something more. You already are that power. You are the energy that creates worlds. Your mind is the tool that shapes your reality. When you are in pure consciousness, you are in complete alignment with the universe, and everything you desire is already on its way to you. This is not some abstract idea. This is the truth of who you are. Own it. Realize that you are the one who creates. The universe is simply a reflection of your consciousness. There is no higher power outside of you, there is only you. You are the force that shapes reality. When you embody this truth, everything becomes possible. Nothing is out of reach because you are the one reaching. Stop waiting for things to fall into place. Stop looking for external signs. You are the sign. You are the creator of your world. You are infinite. You are everything. You are home. You are “I am”.

[nereidprinc3ss]

pretty little things

in which you can't keep hiding your stuffed animals from your boyfriend. spencer would like a formal introduction.

fluff! warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, newish established relationship, they're so cute, reader is still kinda shy around him, I'm really obsessed with this dynamic actually, implied intimacy if you decide to interpret it that way, kissing/maybe mildly suggestive a/n: this is dedicated to my friends @parfaitblogs and @gublersg1rl bc in another universe we are actually just three jellycat plushies on someone's bed which is where the inspo for this little thing came from. and thank u willow for naming your fox. ok bye love u hope u enjoy !! :D

The first time you’d shown Spencer your room, and the handful of times he’s been in it since, you very intentionally hid your stuffed animals underneath the bed. After all, you’re an adult. You have a grown up job. And you don’t need him thinking you’re some kind of freak this early into the relationship. You like him too much. 

Today, however—you didn’t have any warning. He comes over unannounced, which is all well and good, until you bring him to your bedroom so he can sit on the bed while you change from work clothes into something comfier for movie night. As soon as you open the bedroom door, you see them, lined up neatly by your pillow, and you know it’s too late. 

“Uh…”

Spencer runs into your back and takes it as an excuse to settle his hands on your hips as he peers over your shoulder. 

“What?”

You slip out of his easy hold and skitter to your bed, practically throwing yourself on the mattress and sitting unnaturally as the little beaded eyes of your friends dig into your back. Even your brightest smile doesn’t distract Spencer. He’s like a bloodhound for the truth. At least, that’s the sense you’re beginning to get. 

“What are you doing?” He tries again, eyes narrowed and closing the door carefully behind him. 

“Nothing!”

The urgency with which you say it has his eyebrows raising. Obviously delighted by the embarrassing secret he’s sure to uncover, he approaches. You lean back further even as he towers over you until you’re almost on your back and he’s folded over you, menacingly (and dizzyingly) close. This sort of position is still new-ish and has your heart pounding, even if it’s entirely playful and ostensibly innocent. 

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

You nod, still shying away from him into the pile of pillows. Without looking he reaches under you and pulls out your pink bunny. You squeak and hide your face. 

“What is this?” He laughs, and you yank it away, sitting up so he’s forced to give you some breathing room. The bunny is cradled protectively in your arms, though you try to hold it a bit more casually when you notice. 

“I said it’s nothing.”

“What about the other two behind you? The fox and the… what is that? A deer?”

“No—”

“I didn’t even know they made deer stuffed animals—”

“Spencer, stop!”

He does, at the desperate tone of voice and the way you’re still hiding from him. 

“No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

As usual he’s over apologetic, now sitting knee to knee with you on the mattress and leaning down to try and catch your eye. You huff and grant him some eye contact just so he doesn’t go over the edge with worry. 

“But it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s really not,” he laughs. “It’s cute. I can’t believe you’ve been—what, hiding them from me? This whole time? That’s like not telling me you have kids.”

“It is not like that.”

“Hm. I don’t know, I think you should probably introduce me.”

You give him a look, letting your head fall to your shoulder. “Spencer.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to be apart of their lives now. You can’t keep shoving them under the bed every time I stay the night.”

This nerd is going to be the death of you. 

Eventually, you groan reluctantly. 

“Fine. Okay, um—this one is… well—her name is Bunny. It’s not… very creative, but it’s—that’s just her name, okay?”

Spencer doesn’t react to your unjustified defensiveness—only grabs your bunny’s round little pink paw and shakes. “Enchanted.”

“Shut up.” Your face is so hot as you bury your smile and set Bunny aside, making sure she’s comfortable against the pillow before bringing out your deer. Spencer doesn’t have the shit-eating grin you were partially expecting when you glance up at him from beneath your lashes—he’s smiling, but it’s so soft. A little twisted, like he’s holding back the full extent of it for your sake. But you wouldn’t mind it at full power. It’s like he’s hiding the sun in a saucepan and the lid’s not on quite right. And he’s looking right at you. Like you’re the source of all his joy. 

A moment passes. You clear your throat and look back down. “Um—this is Bambi. ’Cause—you know.”

“I do,” Spencer agrees genially, nodding as if this were a normal conversation. “Kind of a dark thing to name your deer, though.”

“You’re judging,” you accuse balefully. He chuckles and his hand finds your knee, rubbing apologetically. 

“I’m not, I’m not! I take it back. I retract it. Continue, please.”

For a moment you only pout, but it doesn’t deter him—he simply looks at you expectantly, and now those syrupy eyes come with the added bonus of his hand on your leg. Fine. He wins. But not without a deep, tortured sigh from you while you’re grabbing your fox that makes the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“This one is…”

The name dies on your tongue, too ridiculous to be said out loud. 

“Tell me,” Spencer pleads in that gentle voice and with those big eyes that you’d consider burning him at the stake for because that look on his face has to be witchcraft. 

“Okay but you can’t laugh,” you insist in one quick breath, giving him a serious look that he can only partially reciprocate. 

“No laughing.”

“It’s… Mr. Cuddles.”Spencer bites the inside of his cheek to keep his promise. You melt inside both from embarrassment and from the way it only further defines an already superbly sculpted bone structure. “Do not.”

Spencer scoffs at your warning. “Don’t what? I’m behaving.”

“Don’t make fun of Mr. Cuddles!”

“Does it look like I’m making fun of him?”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Her. Mr. Cuddles is a girl.”

“I see… can you explain that to me?”

“If a human person said I am a girl and I would like you to call me Mister, would you question that? Would you ask them to explain it to you?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. Don’t be rude.”The way Spencer is looking at you now, eyes so clear and still so full of affection, like you’ve got some sort of heavenly spotlight trained on you, lips parted as if to say something but still silent, has you forgetting your momentary confidence. You shrink. “What?”

“I just… you’re amazing.” You throw Mr. Cuddles at his chest and fall into your pile of pillows with a groan. Spencer only continues rubbing your leg. It’s very nice, actually. He’s gentle. And patient. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe you came to this conclusion just because I introduced you to my stuffed animals.”

“Not solely because of that. There are a lot of contributing factors. I mean, the stuffed animal thing helped.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you insist for the umpteenth time. 

“It’s adorable.”

Spencer pushes pillows aside and lies next to you so you’re eye to eye. It’s nice how his presence isn’t exhausting the way people sometimes are. He’s easy to exist with. He makes you enjoy existing a little more than usual. Even now. 

You raise your eyebrows and speak, cheek squished against fabric. “I’m a serious adult.”

“I know you are,” he assures with a solemn nod. 

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly. 

“Okay… well… don’t go forgetting that. I’m fun but I can also be not fun.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“No you wouldn’t. You would hate it. You’d be so scared.”

Spencer gives up on holding back a smile and moves his hand to tuck hair behind your ear. 

“You’re right. I’m already terrified. The anticipation… it’s killing me, you know?”

You’re giggling as you roll over on top of him and he roots his hand in your hair, pulling you in for a long, smiley kiss like he knew it was coming. Only when he blindly throws your stuffed friends from the bed do you pull away—just by an inch or so. 

“No respect,” you scold playfully. He kisses you again, tangling your legs and hands wandering. 

“Can I apologize later?”

You’re good with that. 

[mminghaos]

best friend seungcheol whom you have a crush on, but never told him. he doesn't know it either and y'all just bicker all the time as bsf, one day all of it changes when you finally say you found a match on some dating app. he realises it and bam! hot and heavy shit go down.

bitter crush , choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYPNOSIS: your bestfriend doesn’t know you’ve had a crush on him for years, but when you mention matching with someone on a dating app, everything changes.

WARNINGS: smut, fingering, kissing, teasing, mingyu as the failed date lmfao

requests are open, do send some in!!

you’ve been friends with seungcheol since high school, watching each other grow up — first jobs, first kisses, and everything in between, sticking together through the highs and lows. your friendship is built on bickering and teasing each other like it’s second nature. but now, the bickering feels different.

“i matched with someone on that app i told you about,” you say, placing your coffee down on the wooden table of the café you and seungcheol are sitting at.

you’d decided to give a dating app a shot, hoping it would help you take your mind off seungcheol. maybe meeting someone new will help you move on, or at least distract you from the constant thoughts about him. but so far, it’s just more of the same — swiping, chatting, but none of its ever seemed to match the energy you share with him. you might as well move on, since seungcheol has is own hookups and girlfriends, and none of them will ever be you. its frustrating, the way this burning crush for him is always shimmering beneath the surface, gnawing at you. this is going to be the death of you — that’s what you always tell yourself.

“so you’re telling me you’re out here swiping on strangers?” he responds, his voice laced with something you can’t quite place. “what happened to the whole ‘not needing anyone’ thing?”

“it changed.”

“really? that’s weird.” he says, his eyes never leaving you. “thought you were too busy to deal with anyone new.”

you roll your eyes, trying to brush it off. “yeah, well, apparently im not as busy as i thought.”

you’ve never been the type to casually date or get involved with someone just for the sake of it. but lately, things feel different. seungcheol’s always been there — constant, reliable, and annoyingly perfect in his own way — and it’s hard to ignore how your thoughts always circle back to him, no matter how many times you try to push them away. you’ve never said it out loud, never let him in on the truth of how much he’s been occupying your mind, and the idea of dating someone else? it almost feels like a joke. you’re not really here for some random guy who doesn’t know you like he does. but the more you try to distract yourself, the more you realize how little it helps. no matter how many matches you get, no conversation ever seems to compare to the effortless back and forth you share with seungcheol. it’s like you’re chasing something that doesn’t quite exist, and each swipe only makes you feel more frustrated. but you can’t exactly admit that, not to him, not to anyone. so you keep trying, hoping maybe this time will be different, even though you know deep down it won’t be.

“so, who’s this guy?”

you shrug, trying to keep your voice steady. “kim mingyu. he’s nice. we’ve met a few times before, actually — works at that bar down the street.”

seungcheol leans back in his chair, his arms crossed as he watched you. he clears his throat. “just don’t pick some random guy who doesn’t get you, alright?”

“what, are you jealous or something?”

“no.”

the date with mingyu went well. you two got along really great — there was no shortage of conversation, and the chemistry was comfortable. you both enjoyed the meal and found common ground in ways that made the evening feel lighthearted and easy. it was nice, actually, to just relax and enjoy someone’s company without any pressure.

even if the date was good, you and mingyu both agreed that you should just be friends, neither of you feeling the sparks you were hoping for.

you walk into your apartment, slipping off your shoes and placing your keys under the mat. its quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. you head towards the living room, where seungcheol is sprawled on your couch, sorting through the groceries he offered to pick up for you earlier this week.

“you’re back early,” he says, glancing up with a smirk. “thought you were gonna be out all night with your… date.”

you roll your eyes, not really in the mood to talk about it. “it was fine,” you reply, shrugging as you drop your purse on the counter. “nothing special.”

seungcheol raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “really?”

you let out a breath, trying to sound casual. “yeah, well, turns out i’m not as interested as i thought.”

he tilts his head, looking at you like he’s trying to figure you out. “what do you mean?”

you hesitate, leaning against the kitchen counter, fingers tapping against the countertop. “we got along, i guess. but we just decided to be friends.”

“huh.” seungcheol shrugs, clearly unconcerned, though there’s something in the way he watches you that makes you pause. “so you’re saying you don’t feel any connection with him at all?”

you shift, rubbing the back of your neck. “it’s just… not there. but whatever. i’m fine.”

“you sure?” seungcheol presses, his voice dropping an octave, and you can’t help but notice how close he’s sitting now. “because i’m sure someone else would love the chance to—”

“ugh, please.” you cut him off, trying to brush it off. “i don’t need some random guy to be interested.”

he smirks, clearly not buying it. “really? sounds like you do.”

you bite your lip, trying to hold onto your patience, but it’s slipping through your fingers. you know he’s teasing, and usually, you’d laugh it off, but tonight feels different. there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore, something that’s been building for years. frustration bubbles up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“cheol, i like you, okay?” you blurt out, your voice trembling slightly, surprised by how easily it all comes rushing out.

he pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processes your words. there’s a moment of silence, and you feel like you’re about to suffocate under the weight of it. his gaze flickers to your face, then down to your hands, then back to your eyes, as if trying to figure out what’s really going on.

“wait,” he says slowly, his tone less playful and more cautious now. “you’re not drunk, are you? had drinks or something when you were out?”

you quickly shake your head, trying to steady your breath. “no, i’m not drunk. i just—” but the words feel clumsy on your tongue, and suddenly, you’re unsure of how to take them back.

“i shouldn’t have said that,” you mutter, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “this was stupid, i’m sorry. i don’t even know why i—”

you start rambling, trying to downplay the confession that’s just slipped out. each word feels like it’s digging you deeper, and you just want to take it all back. “i mean, i don’t even know what i was thinking—this is—god, i’m so—”

but before you can finish, seungcheol pushes himself off the couch and walks towards you, stopping just a few inches away. his eyes still lock on yours. the silence stretches, and you feel your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. you want to say something, to apologize again, but all the words are caught in your chest.

“stop,” he says softly, his voice low, but there’s an intensity in it that you can’t ignore.

you open your mouth, wanting to explain, to take back the awkward confession, but the words jumble in your mind. “it’s just… i didn’t want to make it weird, and now i’ve probably ruined everything—”

seungcheol doesn’t say anything, just watches you with an unreadable look in his eyes, waiting for you to stop rambling. you go on anyway, trying to explain yourself, even though you can feel yourself getting more flustered with each passing second.

before you can continue, he steps forward, his hand gently cupping your face, cutting off your words. you freeze, eyes wide, but before you can process anything, his lips crash onto yours, effectively silencing you.

the kiss is deep and urgent, like he’s been holding back too. your brain barely registers what’s happening as your hands instinctively move to his chest, but the tension that had been building between you both for so long snaps. everything goes quiet in your mind, and for the first time tonight, all the chaos and nerves fall away, replaced by the heat of his kiss.

the kiss lingers for a moment, intense and raw, as if neither of you wants to pull away. your breath mingles with his, the world around you blurring until there’s only the feeling of him so close, so real. your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears, and you can feel the tension in his body as he holds you just a bit tighter, as if he’s afraid you might slip away.

when he finally pulls back, you’re left breathless, your forehead resting against his as you both try to catch your breath. his hands are still on you, one gently holding your face, the other resting on your hip, grounding you.

“you really don’t make things easy, do you?” he murmurs, his voice a little hoarse, the teasing edge back in his tone, but it’s softer now, more affectionate.

you don’t trust yourself to speak right away. all the words that had been stuck in your chest before are now lost, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of him so close, his touch still lingering on your skin. instead, you look up at him, meeting his eyes, trying to make sense of everything, but before you can say anything, he smiles slightly, a genuine, soft expression.

“i didn’t realise how much i liked you until you told me about that guy,” he admits, brushing his thumb over your cheek gently. “i was too stupid to notice.”

you dont get to reply because his hand moves down your back, pulling you closer, your chest pressed against his. the room feels warmer now, charged with something you can't ignore. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing lightly at first, unsure if you should pull away or let it happen. but he doesn't give you that chance.

his lips return to yours, but this time, there's more urgency in it, his kiss deepening as his tongue brushes against yours. you let out a soft sigh, the tension that's been building between you two for what feels like forever finally snapping. he groans, his hand moving to your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss further. the heat between you both grows, and you can feel every inch of him pressing against you, making your pulse quicken.

seungcheol's voice is low, almost a whisper as he takes a step back, hands resting on your waist, grounding you both. "do you want to keep going?" he asks.

you nod, your heart racing, but your mind is clear. “yes.”

he doesn't say anything more, just nods and gently takes your hand, leading you through the apartment. when you get to your room, he lays you down on the bed gently, his hands never leaving you.

seungcheol hovers over you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you’re unsure. you can feel his body close to yours, the warmth radiating off him. “are you sure?”

“yes, cheol.” you let out a light laugh, pulling him closer. “im sure.”

his lips trail down your jaw, each kiss softer than the last before he moves to your neck, his teeth grazing slightly over the skin. you let out a soft sigh once he pulls back after reaching where your shirt starts. before he can say anything, you’re reaching for the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head.

seungcheol takes a moment, his gaze lingering on you before meeting your eyes again.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says, unclasping your bra and slipping it off. “god.”

his hands find their way to your pants as he trails kisses down your chest, each one growing more desperate as his lips move lower. the warmth of his breath against your skin sends a shiver through you, and you can feel your heart race with every gentle press of his lips.

eventually, he pulls your pants off, discarding them somewhere on the floor behind him. “please.” you breathe out

“hmm?” he responds, his fingers slipping just under the band of your panties. “what do you want, baby?”

“need you inside me, please.”

he glances down at you, lips twitching up into a smirk. “patience.”

“no, no, no— cheol, please—” you whimper out.

“don’t worry, you’ll get what you want.” he cuts you off, pressing a light kiss to your collarbone.

when he finally stops teasing you and pulls your panties down, tossing them god knows where, you’re already a mess underneath him. every nerve in your body is on edge, anticipation building as he slides two fingers through your folds. “fuck, you’re soaking wet for me, baby.” a low groan escapes his lips, his restraint wavering as he fights to hold himself back.

he slowly pushes one finger into your pussy, giving you a moment to relax before he adds another and starts to curl them into all the right places.

“cheol!” your head falls back against the pillow, hand going to grab his wrist for some sort of stability.

“yeah, you like that?”

you’re already so close — just from the way his fingers move inside you, hitting every spot that sends sparks shooting througu your body.

you nod over and over again, hips rising to match the rhythm of his movements. “don’t stop— fuck— please, im so close.” 

your breath hitches, and you clutch at his arm, desperate for grounding as the sensations overwhelm you. every stroke of his fingers feels like its pulling you closer to the brink, and the tension in your body winds tighter with each passing second. “please—” the word slips out as a whisper, barely audible. your legs start to shake, the pleasure coursing through you almost too much to bear.

before you can even warn seungcheol, you’re coming undone all over his fingers, hips bucking up at the same time.

“god, thats so hot.” he mutters, but you’re too out of it to know if its to you or himself.

"you alright?" seungcheol asks softly, his hand resting on your hip as he looks down at you with concern. his touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he's checking for any sign of discomfort.

you nod, your breath still ragged, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "yeah, i'm good. just... didn't expect that." your voice is breathy, the lingering effects of the moment still making your body tingle.

seungcheol smirks, clearly pleased with the reaction. "you sure you're not too overwhelmed?" he teases, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

you laugh softly, the sound shaky but genuine. "im fine" you reply, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye. "was that your way of saying you like me too?"

“it was.” he smirks, eyes locking onto yours. “think you can go for one more round?”

he really is going to be the death of you.

[suguann]

LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.

✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+

tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink

featuring. gojo, nanami, geto

masterlist

↬ GOJO

He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.

The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.

“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 

“They’re pretty, baby.”

Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”

“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”

His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 

Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.

He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.

Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.

Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 

Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.

A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 

“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”

Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 

↬ GETO

It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 

The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 

Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—

A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 

You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 

“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 

Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 

You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 

“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”

“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.

“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 

Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 

“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.

He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.

“Why’d you—”

“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”

↬ NANAMI

After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 

It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 

You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.

“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 

He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 

You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 

“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.

He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”

A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”

(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)

“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”

“B-but—”

Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 

Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 

His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."

It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.

“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 

[pucksandpower]

Your Love Is My Drug

Oscar Piastri x Norris!Reader

Summary: Lando’s teammate is behaving strangely, so of course the logical assumption is that Oscar must be on drugs (the truth ends up being so much worse … for Lando)

The McLaren garage buzzes with activity as mechanics scurry about, preparing for the upcoming race weekend. Lando leans against the wall, his brow furrowed in concentration as he observes his teammate from across the room.

Something’s off about Oscar today. Actually, if Lando’s being honest with himself, something’s been off about Oscar for weeks now. The usually composed Aussie seems ... different.

Fidgety.

Distracted.

As if on cue, Oscar lets out another of those odd little giggles he’s been prone to lately. Lando’s eyes narrow.

“Oi, Piastri!” He calls out, striding over to where Oscar is hunched over his phone. “What’s so funny, mate?”

Oscar’s head snaps up, his cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he stammers, hastily shoving his phone into his pocket. “Just ... just a meme.”

Lando raises an eyebrow. “A meme? Since when are you so into memes?”

“I’ve always liked memes,” Oscar protests weakly.

“Right,” Lando drawls, unconvinced. He watches as Oscar shifts uncomfortably, tugging at the waistband of his jeans.

A sudden, horrifying thought strikes Lando. No ... it couldn’t be. Could it?

“Hey, Oscar,” he says slowly, trying to keep his tone casual. “You feeling alright? You’ve seemed a bit ... off lately.”

Oscar’s eyes widen slightly. “Off? What do you mean?”

Lando shrugs, aiming for nonchalance. “I dunno, just ... different. Distracted. You keep laughing at nothing and your face is all red.”

“Oh, that’s ... that’s nothing,” Oscar says, waving a hand dismissively. “Just, uh, excited about the race, I guess.”

Lando’s not buying it. “Excited, huh? Is that why you keep fidgeting with your pants, too?”

Oscar freezes, his hand stilling where it had been absently adjusting his waistband. “I ... what?”

“Your jeans,” Lando repeats, gesturing towards Oscar’s lower half. “You keep messing with them. What’s that about?”

“Nothing!” Oscar yelps, a bit too quickly. “They’re just ... new. Still breaking them in.”

Lando’s eyes narrow further. He remembers something, vaguely, from one of the few health lessons he’d managed to stay awake for back in school. Something about drug users and fidgeting ...

No. Surely not. Not Oscar.

But the more Lando thinks about it, the more it starts to make a twisted kind of sense. The secrecy, the mood swings, the constant flush on Oscar’s cheeks ...

“Oscar,” Lando says, his voice low and serious. “I need you to be honest with me. Are you ... are you on something?”

Oscar’s jaw drops. “What? No! Of course not!”

“Because if you are,” Lando presses on, ignoring Oscar’s protests, “I need to know. As your teammate. As your friend. This isn’t just about you, mate. It’s about the whole team.”

“Lando, I swear, I’m not on anything,” Oscar insists, his voice taking on a pleading edge. “I don’t know where you’re getting this idea from, but-”

“Then explain the giggling!” Lando demands, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “And the blushing! And the fidgeting! Something’s clearly going on with you, and if you’re not gonna be straight with me-”

“I can’t!” Oscar bursts out, then immediately claps a hand over his mouth, looking stricken.

Lando’s eyes widen. “Can’t what?”

Oscar shakes his head, looking miserable. “I can’t ... I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, Lando. I know I’ve been acting weird, but I promise it’s nothing bad. I’m not on drugs or anything like that. I just ... I can’t explain right now.”

Lando stares at his teammate, torn between frustration and concern. “Oscar, come on. We’re supposed to be friends. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Oscar’s phone chimes, and he jumps, fumbling to pull it out of his pocket. His eyes widen as he reads whatever message has just come through, and a small, dopey smile spreads across his face.

“Sorry,” he says distractedly, already typing out a response. “I’ve gotta go. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

Before Lando can protest, Oscar is hurrying out of the garage, leaving Lando staring after him in bewilderment.

“What the hell was that about?” Lando mutters to himself.

He’s still pondering Oscar’s strange behavior when his own phone buzzes. It’s a message from you.

Hey! Surprise — I’m at the track! Want to grab dinner?

Lando grins, momentarily distracted from his worries about Oscar. Absolutely, he types back. Meet you at the hotel in a few hours?

Later that evening, Lando’s sitting in the hotel restaurant, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table as he waits for you to arrive. His mind keeps drifting back to Oscar’s odd behavior, and he’s half-tempted to text you and ask if you’ve noticed anything strange about his teammate lately.

Before he can act on the impulse, you breeze into the restaurant, a bright smile on your face. “Lando!” You exclaim, rushing over to give him a hug.

“Hey, trouble,” Lando says fondly, returning the embrace. “What brings you to the race? I thought you were busy with work.”

You shrug, sliding into the seat across from him. “Oh, you know, just missed my second favorite brother. Thought I’d surprise you.”

Lando narrows his eyes playfully. “I finally won a race and I’m still not your favorite?”

“You can’t win everything,” you say with a grin. “Wouldn’t want your head getting any bigger than it already is.”

As you settle in and start perusing the menu, Lando can’t help but notice that you seem ... different. There’s a certain glow about you, a sparkle in your eye that he hasn’t seen before.

“You look happy,” he observes. “Something good happen at work?”

You bite your lip, looking suddenly nervous. “Oh, um, not really. Just ... life in general, I guess.”

Lando’s about to press further when his phone buzzes. He glances down to see a message from Oscar.

Hey, mate. Sorry about earlier. Can we talk?

Lando frowns, torn between his curiosity about Oscar’s situation and his desire to spend time with you.

“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing his expression.

Lando sighs. “I don’t know. It’s Oscar. He’s been acting really weird lately, and I’m worried about him.”

Your eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Weird how?”

“Just ... off,” Lando says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s all giggly and distracted, his face is constantly red, and he keeps fidgeting with his clothes. I’m worried he might be ... you know ...”

You lean forward, your brow furrowed in concern. “Might be what?”

Lando lowers his voice, glancing around to make sure no one’s listening. “On drugs,” he whispers.

To his surprise, you burst out laughing. “Oscar? On drugs? Are you serious?”

“It’s not funny!” Lando hisses, feeling defensive. “I’m really worried about him. He won’t tell me what’s going on, but something clearly is.”

You sober quickly, reaching across the table to pat his hand. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s not funny. But Lando, I really don’t think Oscar’s on drugs. Maybe there’s another explanation?”

“Like what?” Lando demands.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, Lando’s phone buzzes again. Another message from Oscar.

I’m in the lobby. Can we talk now? It’s important.

Lando looks up at you apologetically. “It’s Oscar again. He says he needs to talk. Do you mind if I ...”

You wave a hand, looking strangely nervous. “No, no, go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

Lando nods gratefully and heads for the lobby, his mind racing. What could be so important that Oscar needs to talk right now?

He spots his teammate pacing near the elevators, looking agitated. “Oscar?” He calls out.

Oscar’s head snaps up, and Lando is struck again by the flush on his cheeks. “Lando! Thanks for coming. I ... I need to tell you something.”

Lando crosses his arms, trying to look stern despite his worry. “Yeah, I’d say you do. What’s going on with you, mate? And don’t try to tell me it’s nothing, because-”

“I’m dating your sister!” Oscar blurts out.

Lando blinks, certain he must have misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

Oscar takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “I’m dating your sister,” he repeats, more slowly this time. “Y/N. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now.”

Lando’s mind goes blank. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. No sound comes out.

“I know it’s a shock,” Oscar continues, words tumbling out in a rush. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We wanted to make sure it was serious before we said anything. But I really care about her, Lando. And I hope ... I hope you can be okay with this.”

Lando’s brain is still struggling to process this information. “But ... but the giggling,” he manages to stammer out. “And the blushing. And the fidgeting.”

Oscar’s blush deepens. “Ah, yeah. That’s ... that’s because of Y/N. She’s been sending me these ... messages. And pictures. Really cute ones!” He adds hastily, seeing Lando’s eyes widen in horror. “Nothing inappropriate! Just ... you know. Flirty.”

Lando holds up a hand, feeling slightly nauseous. “Please, I really don’t need details.”

“Right, sorry,” Oscar says sheepishly. “Anyway, that’s why I’ve been acting weird. I was trying to keep it a secret, but I guess I’m not very good at hiding how I feel.”

Lando’s head is spinning. His teammate and his little sister. Dating. It’s too much to process.

“Lando?” Oscar’s voice sounds concerned. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

Lando opens his mouth to respond, but the world suddenly tilts sideways. The last thing he hears before everything goes black is Oscar’s panicked voice calling his name.

When Lando comes to, he’s lying on a couch in the hotel lobby, with you and Oscar hovering anxiously over him.

“Oh thank god,” you breathe as his eyes flutter open. “Lando, are you okay?”

Lando groans, pushing himself into a sitting position. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Oscar supplies helpfully. “Right after I told you about ... you know.”

The memory comes flooding back, and Lando groans again, this time for an entirely different reason. “So it wasn’t a dream, then? You two are really ...”

You nod, looking nervous but determined. “We are. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We wanted to make sure it was, you know, real first.”

Lando looks between the two of you, taking in Oscar’s anxious expression and the way your hand is clasped tightly in his. Despite his shock, he can’t deny the genuine affection he sees there.

“Well,” he says finally, his voice rough. “I suppose this is better than you being on drugs.”

Oscar lets out a startled laugh. “You really thought I was on drugs?”

Lando shrugs defensively. “What was I supposed to think? You were acting so weird!”

“That’s just because he’s head over heels for me,” you say teasingly, bumping Oscar’s shoulder with your own.

Oscar grins dopily, and Lando has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Clearly,” he mutters.

There’s a moment of awkward silence before you speak up again. “So ... are you okay with this? Us being together?”

Lando looks at you, his beloved little sister, then at Oscar, his teammate and friend. He sees the happiness radiating from both of you, the way you lean into each other unconsciously.

He sighs dramatically. “I suppose I’ll have to be,” he says, unable to keep a small smile from tugging at his lips. “But I swear, Piastri, if you hurt her-”

“I won’t,” Oscar interrupts, his voice firm and sincere. “I promise, Lando. I’ll take good care of her.”

Lando nods, satisfied for now. “Good. And for the love of all that is holy, please keep the flirting to a minimum around me. I really don’t need to see that.”

You and Oscar laugh, the tension finally breaking. As Lando watches the two of you together, he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this might not be such a bad thing after all.

But he’s definitely going to need some time to get used to it. And possibly some therapy.

[theonottsbxtch]

BABY, BABY | MV1

an: max verstappen you are a four time world champion!!! here's a little fic to celebrate that. i started writing it while watching the race, then had to mourn the loss of the battle then went back to writing it and my back hurts because my posture is shit. anyway enjoy!!

wc: 3.3k

Max Verstappen lived for speed. The roar of the engine, the blur of the track, the thunderous applause of the crowd—this was his kingdom. At twenty-seven, he was already a legend, a three-time Formula One World Champion whose name was etched into the annals of the sport. And this season? It was shaping up to be another triumph. Four wins in the first five races, podium finishes for all of them, and whispers in the paddock that he was untouchable.

He had every reason to be confident. The car was a beast—precision-engineered, relentless in its power. His team was operating like clockwork, every pit stop a perfectly executed ballet. But above all, she was there. His fiancée. She didn’t need to speak to make her presence known; her calm, unwavering gaze from the paddock was like a talisman. He could feel her watching, believing in him, and it drove him forward.

After his most recent victory in Japan, he leaned against the garage wall, sweat still beading on his forehead. She approached him, her smile soft and private, meant just for him. The cameras flashed around them, capturing their moment, but he hardly noticed.

“You’re unstoppable,” she murmured, low enough that only he could hear.

“For you? Always,” he replied, brushing a gloved hand over her cheek before he was whisked away to interviews.

Everything was perfect. The season was his to lose, and he had no intention of letting that happen.

Six races later, the Max Verstappen that stood on the grid in Barcelona was not the same man who had claimed victory in Japan. His car was still strong, and his team still flawless. But the man behind the wheel was... distracted.

The cracks had started to show at the Monaco Grand Prix. A clumsy lock-up during qualifying left him sixth on the grid. In Hungary, he was slow off the line and struggled to match the pace of the leaders, finishing fifth.

The press was quick to pounce.

“What’s happening to Verstappen?” the headlines screamed.

Max shrugged it off, his trademark confidence still on display. “It’s the car,” he said with a wry smile after Hungary. “We’re making adjustments. It’ll come good.”

It was a convenient excuse, one his team begrudgingly accepted because of who he was. But the truth was far more complex—and far more personal.

She wasn’t here.

She hadn’t been at the last couple of races. At first, she’d said she wasn’t feeling well, and Max had brushed it off. But then the phone call came.

“I’m pregnant,” she’d whispered, her voice trembling. “I—I want to tell you in person, but I don’t think I can travel.”

In that moment, his world shifted. Joy, fear, and an overwhelming need to protect her collided in his chest. The image of her radiant on their wedding day-to-be now came with another—her cradling a newborn, their newborn. And with that came a thousand anxieties he’d never anticipated.

At every moment since, his thoughts weren’t on the track but on her. Was she eating enough? Was she getting rest? What if something went wrong, and he wasn’t there?

But no one knew. Not his team, not the press, not even his closest rivals. To them, Max Verstappen was still the king of the circuit. He could never let them see otherwise.

It was lap 32 of the Hungarian Grand Prix, and Max was battling for third with Charles. The two cars screamed through the corners, inches apart, but Max hesitated. He felt it—his grip loosened, his focus wavered. For the first time in his career, he wasn’t sure he could make the move stick.

Charles darted ahead, and Max watched as the gap widened. His engineer’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Max, you’re losing time in Sector 2. What’s going on?”

“Just the car,” he lied, jaw tight. “It’s sluggish through the corners.”

He crossed the finish line in fourth. As he stepped out of the car, he pulled off his helmet, running a hand through sweat-soaked hair. The cameras were on him, the journalists waiting. But all he could think about was her.

He needed to call. To hear her voice. To know she was okay.

The season was far from over, but the battle raging within Max was one he’d never prepared for. And as he watched his championship hopes start to slip through his fingers, he knew one thing for certain: no race, no trophy, no accolade mattered more than the life he was about to build off the track.

The Belgian Grand Prix was a race Max Verstappen wanted to forget. He’d spent the entire weekend battling the car—or so he told anyone who asked. But deep down, he knew the problem wasn’t mechanical. The fault lay within himself, his mind a chaotic swirl of worry and love that refused to quiet, no matter how fast he drove.

When he was finally allowed to go back to the hotel, the first thing he wanted to do was go home. Not the sprawling apartment in Monaco that everyone assumed was his sanctuary, but the smaller, quieter house tucked away in the English countryside. The place where she was.

It was just after midnight when his car pulled into the gravel driveway. The house was dark except for the soft glow of a single lamp in the living room window. She always left it on for him. He slipped inside quietly, leaving his suitcase in the car.

She was asleep, of course. Seven months pregnant and glowing with a beauty that stole his breath even in her most unguarded moments. He found her curled on her side in their bed, one hand resting protectively over her rounded belly. Max dropped his coat on the chair and toed off his shoes before slipping into the bed beside her.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, careful not to wake her, and then rested his head gently against her belly. The warmth of her skin, the faint, rhythmic thrum of her breathing, and the thought of the tiny life growing inside her—it was everything he needed to feel whole again.

“Hi, little one,” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with wonder. “It’s me. I’m finally home.”

As if in response, there was a small kick against his cheek. Max grinned, a tear slipping down his face as he chuckled quietly.

“Already a fighter,” he murmured. “Just like your mum.”

Her hand came to rest in his hair, threading through the blonde strands. He startled slightly, realising she was awake, her sleepy smile illuminated by the faint moonlight streaming through the window.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice thick with drowsiness.

“Always,” he replied, turning his head to kiss her palm. “How are you feeling? How’s our little champion?”

“Both fine,” she reassured him. “We missed you.”

“I missed you more,” he said, shifting up to lie beside her, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. His hand settled over hers on her belly, and they stayed like that for a long moment, the world outside forgotten.

The days that followed were a gift—a rare stretch of time without races, press obligations, or the relentless demands of the championship fight. They spent their mornings in the garden, her feet propped up on his lap while he read aloud from the parenting books she’d stacked on the table. Afternoons were lazy, filled with naps, quiet conversations, and the occasional moment when he leaned down to kiss her belly and whisper to their unborn child.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, she turned to him with a thoughtful look.

“You should tell them,” she said softly.

“Tell who what?” he asked, though he already knew.

“Your team. The press. Everyone.” She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “You’ve been carrying this alone for too long. They’ll understand.”

Max sighed, leaning back against the cushions and closing his eyes. “I like it like this,” he said after a moment. “It’s ours. Just ours. I don’t want them to turn this into... headlines or speculation. I want to keep it safe.”

She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. “You’re not just keeping it safe, love. You’re keeping it locked away. And it’s hurting you.”

He kissed her forehead, a slow, lingering gesture that spoke more than words could. “It’s not hurting me. It’s the only thing keeping me sane. When I’m out there, and it’s all chaos and noise, this is what I hold onto. You. Our little one. It’s my anchor.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned into him, her hand resting lightly on his chest. “You know I’ll support you, whatever you decide. But you don’t have to carry this alone.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. “But for now, I want it to stay ours. Just a little longer.”

The break passed too quickly, as it always did, but for Max, it was enough. The air in Austin was electric. Max, back from the summer break and seemingly rejuvenated, had shown flashes of his old brilliance in the first half of the race. But a controversial move during a heated battle for second had earned him a twenty-second penalty. The disappointment was palpable.

In the press conference afterward, he faced a barrage of questions, his jaw tight as he fielded them with his usual composure. But his heart wasn’t in it. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and the gnawing ache of being apart was beginning to wear on him.

The penalty stung less than the silence in his hotel room later that night. The upcoming triple-header—Austin, Mexico City, São Paulo—meant there’d be no chance to go home. Three weeks without her, without hearing the steady rhythm of her breathing as she slept beside him or feeling the flutter of their baby’s kicks beneath his hand. He stared at his phone for hours, tempted to call, but stopped himself. She needed rest. He could wait.

The race in São Paulo had just wrapped up. Max won, a result he should’ve been thrilled with, but all he could think about was getting back to England. The charter flight to London felt endless, the hours dragging as he stared out the window, replaying every voicemail she’d left him over the past week. Each one sounded more tired, more distant, and it made his chest tighten with unease.

When he finally arrived home, the house was eerily quiet. He dropped his bags in the hallway, calling out her name. No answer. He checked the bedroom, the nursery—they were empty. Panic began to rise as he pulled out his phone and dialled her number.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft but carried an edge of exhaustion.

“Where are you?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry. “I’m home, and you’re not here.”

“I’m at my mum’s,” she replied.

“Why?” His voice dropped, laced with confusion. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause, a beat of silence that stretched too long. And then, she said it.

“I had the baby.”

The words hit him like a jolt. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. “You what?” he whispered, as though saying it louder would make it less real.

“I had the baby,” she repeated, her tone gentle, but firm. “Two weeks ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice a mix of hurt and disbelief.

“You had a job to do, Max,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to distract you.”

“Distract me?” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen. “You’re my family. How could you think I wouldn’t drop everything to be there?”

“I know,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “But I also know you. You’ve been carrying so much this season, and I didn’t want to add to it. You were halfway across the world, love. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her that she was wrong, that he would’ve found a way. But deep down, he understood. She was protecting him in her own way, just as he always tried to protect her.

“Is he... okay?” he asked finally, his voice softening.

“He’s perfect,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Healthy and beautiful. I wanted to surprise you when you got home, but we needed a bit of extra help, so I came here.”

“I’m coming now,” he said immediately. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The drive to her mother’s house felt like an eternity. When he finally pulled into the driveway, he barely remembered turning off the car before he was at the front door. Her mother greeted him with a warm smile and a quiet, “She’s upstairs.”

He took the steps two at a time, his heart pounding in his chest. When he reached the bedroom, he paused in the doorway.

She was sitting on the bed, her hair tied back loosely, her face glowing with a tired kind of happiness. And in her arms, wrapped in a soft blue blanket, was their son.

Max stepped inside slowly, his breath catching as he took in the sight. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice almost trembling.

“Hi,” she replied, smiling up at him. “Come meet him.”

He crossed the room, sitting beside her on the bed. She shifted the baby gently, placing him into Max’s waiting arms. For a moment, he could only stare.

Tiny fingers peeked out from the blanket, curling slightly as the baby let out a soft sigh. His nose, his chin—so small, so perfect.

“What’s his name?” Max asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We agreed on Emilian,” she said, her eyes shining. “Emilian Lucian Verstappen.”

He looked up at her, his throat tight with emotion. “You gave him my name?”

“Of course,” she said, reaching out to touch his cheek. “You’re his dad. And he’s going to know how much you love him, even when you’re halfway across the world.”

Max pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “Both of you. More than anything.”

As Emilian stirred slightly in his arms, Max smiled. He’d missed the moment of his son’s birth, something he’d carry with him always. But here, holding his son for the first time, he knew he was exactly where he needed to be.

For two precious weeks, Max stayed home. It was just him, her, and Emilian. Those days blurred into a haze of quiet moments—feeding, changing, and rocking his son to sleep. He wasn’t just a racing legend at home; he was a father, learning the delicate art of swaddling and singing lullabies off-key at three in the morning.

His fiancée was radiant, even in her moments of exhaustion. Max found himself watching her more than ever, in awe of her strength. At night, they talked in whispers, Emilian nestled between them in a bassinet. For once, the championship felt like a distant dream.

But as the days passed, reality crept back in. The Las Vegas Grand Prix was the next race and the stakes couldn’t be higher. His rival, Lando Norris, was trailing him by just a decent amount of points, but if Max bottled it, it wouldn’t go well for his title. A strong finish could secure Max his fourth championship, but it would be a fight to the very last lap.

The night before his flight to Vegas, Max sat beside her on the couch, Emilian cradled in his arms. He had spent the entire day rehearsing his pitch, trying to strike the perfect balance of persuasion and sensitivity.

“You know,” he began, his tone casual, “Vegas is going to be a big deal. Probably the biggest race of my career.”

She glanced up from her tea, raising an eyebrow. “I thought every race was the biggest of your career.”

“This is different,” he said, grinning. “If I beat Lando by a certain amount of points, I get the title. My fourth title.”

Her smile softened. “I know. And you will. You always find a way.”

He hesitated, bouncing Emilian gently as the baby dozed. “Come with me,” he said suddenly.

Her eyes widened. “Max—”

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he cut in quickly, “and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it. But the doctors said you’re fit to fly, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Please,” he said, his voice earnest. “I need you there. Both of you. It’s an important race. The biggest one maybe. And I want to share it with my family.”

She hesitated, biting her lip. He could see the worry in her eyes, the motherly instinct to keep their baby safe and away from the chaos of the paddock. But then he reached for her hand.

“Win or lose, none of it matters without you. You and Emilian are everything to me. And if I do win... I want you there to celebrate. I want the world to see what really matters.”

After a long pause, she sighed, her resolve softening. “Fine. But only if you promise to keep us far away from the press circus until it’s over.”

He grinned, leaning over to kiss her. “Deal.”

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a spectacle like no other. The bright lights, the roaring crowd, and the tension in the paddock made it a night to remember. Max felt his nerves hum as he stepped into the garage, but knowing she and Emilian were somewhere safe in the hospitality suite calmed him.

The race was brutal. Max fought tooth and nail, battling it out with Charles and Lewis in a chaotic, tire-shredding 50 laps. In the end, he crossed the line in fifth place.

For a moment, he thought it wasn’t enough. But then Christian’s voice crackled over the radio.

“Max Verstappen, you are a four-time world champion!”

Relief and joy flooded through him, and he punched the air, his voice shaking with emotion as he shouted his thanks into the radio. The garage erupted in cheers, but Max’s mind was already on her and Emilian.

As the celebrations began, he climbed out of the car, waving to the crowd before pulling off his helmet. He turned toward the pit lane and froze.

There she was, standing at the edge of the barriers, Emilian in her arms. They were both wearing ear defenders, her smile wide and proud. Emilian’s tiny shirt caught his eye, and his heart melted:

My daddy is a 4-time world champion.

He laughed, running over to them as the cameras swarmed. When he reached her, he didn’t hesitate, pulling her into a deep kiss. The crowd roared, and the cameras clicked furiously, but he didn’t care.

He looked down at his son, who blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. Carefully, Max took him into his arms, holding him close.

“Hey, little man,” he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. “Your daddy did it.”

Emilian gurgled in response, and Max’s grin widened.

For the first time, the world saw Max Verstappen not just as a champion, but as a father. The images of him holding his son, his fiancée beside him, spread like wildfire. The press clamoured for details, but Max ignored them, too lost in the moment to care.

“This is your victory too,” he said to her, his voice quiet. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her smile radiant. “We’re so proud of you.”

As the champagne sprayed and the cheers echoed around them, Max knew this was the pinnacle of his career—not the trophy, not the title, but the family he held in his arms.

the end.

[earthyaries]

WAYS U CAN PLEASE SATURN ACCORDING TO UR SATURN PLACEMENT ♄

1H/ARIES SATURN: RESPECT URSELF. DO NOT ALTER UR BOUNDARIES TO BE LIKED. SELF IMPROVEMENT. PUT EFFORT INTO UR BODY/APPEARANCE. WORKOUT / BE ACTIVE. HEALTHY COMPETITION. PRACTICE OFTEN. BE CONFIDENT BUT NOT ABOVE OTHERS. SLOW DOWN. SELF GROWTH. DELIBERATE ACTIONS.

2H/TAURUS SATURN: DEVELOP STRONG VALUES. DO NOT UNDERMINE URSELF. QUALITY OVER QUANTITY. INTENTIONAL SPENDING. HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP WITH FOOD. TRY NOT TO OVERINDULGE ; TRY NOT TO WASTE. STOP SELF SABOTAGING. NO SELF DEPRECATING. APPRECIATE WHAT U HAVE. EXPRESS GRATITUDE. DONATE WHAT U CAN.

3H/GEMINI SATURN: THINK BEFORE U SPEAK ; SPEAK LESS THAN U DESIRE. STOP OVERSHARING. FOCUS ON UR CRAFT ; GET RID OF THE DISTRACTIONS. POWER IN THE TONGUE. PERSONAL MOTTOS. STAND FOR WHAT IS MORAL ; BE WELL INFORMED. HAVE HARD CONVOS WHEN NECESSARY. BE A SUPPORTIVE FRIEND. STOP COMPLAINING. FIND SOLUTIONS. ADAPT & OVERCOME.

4H/CANCER SATURN: CREATE BOUNDARIES & STICK TO THEM. BE OF SERVICE TO OTHERS WITHOUT SELF SACRIFICE. DO NOT BE OVERLY SELFISH. EXPRESS UR NEEDS. TAKE CARE OF UR MENTAL HEALTH. EMOTIONAL REGULATION. SELF CARE. BE SELECTIVE OF UR INNER CIRCLE. POUR INTO UR LOVED ONES. TREAT OTHERS WITH KINDNESS. KEEP UR LIVING SPACE CLEAN.

5H/LEO SATURN: LET GO OF SELF DOUBT. BRING UR VISION TO LIFE. MASTER UR CRAFT. BELIEVE IN URSELF & WORK TOWARDS UR GOALS. GET RID OF UR NEED FOR OUTSIDE APPROVAL. LOOK OUT FOR THE CHILDREN ; BE THE PERSON U NEEDED GROWING UP. WORK HARD, PLAY HARD. DELAYED GRATIFICATION.

6H/VIRGO SATURN: FOLLOW A ROUTINE. HEALTHY HABITS. STRUCTURE. KEEP UR SPACES ORGANIZED ; DE-CLUTTER. BE A FRIEND TO ANIMALS. TAKE GOOD CARE OF UR PET/S. PUT IN THE WORK EVERY DAY. OFFER A HELPING HAND. HONOR UR OWN TIME & ENERGY ; DO NOT ENGAGE IN ONE-SIDED RELATIONS.

7H/LIBRA SATURN: MAKE UR OWN DECISIONS. TAKE ACCOUNTABILITY. CRACK DOWN ON CO-DEPENDENCY ; AVOID SELF ISOLATION. LONGTERM RELATIONS. BE THE BIGGER PERSON. FORGIVE BUT DON’T FORGET. APPLY LESSONS FROM THE PAST. TREAD LIGHTLY. RESPECT THOSE WHO CAME BEFORE YOU. FORM LASTING ALLIANCES.

8H/SCORPIO SATURN: KEEP THINGS TO URSELF. STAY PRIVATE. PRACTICE SELF CONTROL. RESILIENCE IN THE FACE OF HARDSHIP. HOPE FOR THE BEST, PREPARE FOR THE WORST. SAVINGS/RAINY DAY RESOURCES. EMBRACE CHANGE. LEARN TO LET GO. RADICAL ACCEPTANCE. SEXUAL DISCIPLINE. XTRA EMPHASIS ON SAFE SEX!

9H/SAGITTARIUS SATURN: PRACTICE UR BELIEFS. WALK THE TALK. MANTRAS. LEARN FROM OTHERS ; COME TO UR OWN CONCLUSIONS. STUDY. BE AN ETERNAL STUDENT. ALLOW URSELF TO BE OUT OF UR ELEMENT. RESPECT OTHER CULTURES. MAKE UR OWN TRADITIONS. STAY HUMBLE. ACCEPT MULTIPLE TRUTHS. APPLY WHAT WORKS.

10H/CAPRICORN SATURN: KEEP UR EYES ON THE PRIZE. TRUST THAT ALL THINGS COME IN DUE TIME. KEEP URSELF MOTIVATED. WORK FOR WHAT U WANT. STAY CONSISTENT. PERSONAL LEGACY ; THINGS THAT LAST. BECOME UR OWN ROLE MODEL. DO IT URSELF / DO IT RIGHT. LIVE WITH KARMA IN MIND.

11H/AQUARIUS SATURN: LEAD THE WAY ; FURTHER THE CAUSE. BETTER THE COMMUNITY— CREATE UR OWN. BE CONSCIOUS OF WHOM U ASSOCIATE URSELF WITH. BEFRIEND PPL OLDER THAN URSELF. LONGTERM FRIENDSHIPS. LONGTERM RESULTS. ADVANCEMENT. NETWORKING. ONLINE INFLUENCE. SET THE STANDARD.

12/PISCES SATURN: ALL IN MODERATION. HEALTHY COPING METHODS & LIFESTYLE PRACTICES. CONSIDERATION. REFLECTION ; SELF AWARENESS. THERAPY. STANDARDS. LEAVE ONCE DISRESPECTED. NO FAKE FRIENDS. MIND OVER MATTER. MANIFESTATION. BE REAL WITH URSELF. SELF TRUST.

[affableramen]

them apologising for calling you bad names

hurt/comfort, established relationships

(Pantalone, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Capitano, Alhaitham, Dottore, Dainsleif, Baizhu)

Pantalone

You avoid him for the rest of the day but eventually in the bed time Pantalone meets you. He enters the bedroom with a grave expression in his eyes, eyeing you sit there on the bed with a book in your hands. Distracting, he thinks, she is distracting herself. 

“You know I didn't utter those words seriously”, Pantalone says, omitting the usual ‘darling’ on his lips. You roll your eyes and shake your head dismissively, showing him apparent unwillingness to chat over the issue any longer.

“Say”, Pantalone leans to the door, his fingers, at this moment of time, bare, scratching the roof edges of his antiquated mansion wall, “Are you deeply offended by my comment? It is but something… trivial.” Seeing no reaction from you Pantalone slowly makes his way to the bed and sits down, his body making an impact to the mattress, that being gently pressed on.

“I should have held my tongue.”

“Your tongue is poisonous”, you say abruptly. Upon hearing this, Pantalone reaches his hand to your hand and takes it in his. 

“Hear me out… Please, darling, I would never honestly speak so ill-mannered of you. It was out of stress. You are not… pathetic. Never have been.”

“Mhm. How about ‘brat’? How about ‘loving me only because I provide for the family?’” 

Pantalone closes his eyes and shakes his head. You can see how his own words inflicted upon you sting. 

“Nonsense! Not a single word I spoke then was truthful.”

“Pantalone, if I ever made you doubt my affections, please do let me know.”

You abruptly put your book on the bedside table and switch the lights off. 

Wriothesley

“Why do you keep insisting on these things? You think I don’t know them?”

“I think you’re simply less educated than me. You should understand, Y/N that in some aspects you may be less intelligent. Stupid even.”

“Less intelligent! Stupid!” 

Wriothesley covers his face and bites his own lip when he realises what unruly language he just used. 

“I didn't mean that-”

“That I’m stupid?” Your patience blows up and you decisively start strutting to the exit door of his office.

“I didn't mean to sound that harshly!” Desperately Wriothesley follows; but to no avail. You already shut your door before his nose.

A few hours after Wriothesley finds you in your two’s favourite café, of course it would be the place where you’d go to reflect on your irritation. 

“Here, your favourites”, he puts the bouquet of vivid red flowers on top of the coffee table, next to your hand, and does it with such carefulness of behaviour you would least expect from him.

You look at him, facing Wriothesley’s eyes at last and as if having your thoughts read the duke says with regret:

“And sorry.”

You take a look at the flowers, your fingers caressing the petals.

“Okay”, you respond quietly. Wriothesley receives approval from you and takes a seat, his attitude nothing but amiable, a far cry from his roughness in the morning.

Neuvillette

“I told you that some matters I unfortunately, willing or not, have to solve on my own. There is no place for you in some of my business, because you’re just one weak-” Neuvillette holds his tongue, realising how personally offensive the words he said sounded. How villainous he suddenly appeared before you.

“Human? Yeah, I know. But me being human doesn't mean I can’t think and analyse, and there’s no way I’d approve the responsibility you’re about to take on yourself. I strictly dissgree.”

“Strictly disagree?” Neuvillette does not believe his ears, for you had always been a quiet amd obedient one, quite agreeable and supportive of his opinions. Yet this time you could not stay silent, seeing how your precious husband puts himself in danger for the hundredth time.

“You are to not take on that mission, are we clear, Neuvillette? And I am not weak, neither am I dumb or uninformed.”

In awe, Neuvillette stands there, looking at you. At last he takes one careful step closer, his hand in his hair, pulling it back as he’s thinking on something with raw intensity.

“If my wife is ready to convince me so much to not do something, if she finds my impulses false, then I will do my best to refrain. Knowing how worried you might be for me, perhaps it would be wise to reject the mission first and utmost.”

You nod, your face grave, uninterested as you turn away from him and walk out of his office. Only then Neuvillette stops you, his wrist tightly on yours. 

“Please, beloved, if you could forgive me for my poor choice of words and underestimating your judgment.”

“It doesn't happen first time, Neuvillette, for being a dragon sovereign makes you incredibly stiff to perceiving others’ opinions. But I’m glad if you do truly believe me now.”

“I do. Please, don't stay furious and frustrated for long.” 

You finally smile, forgiving your dragon husband as you make haste to leave the court, otherwise dramatic Fontainian society that loves gossiping and tragedy so much, will turn your little banter into a lavish scandal.

Tartaglia

“Peanut, I just said that you can’t fight as hard as I do, I didn't mean it in a bad way.”

“Of course, Ajax. You meant it in the way ‘I’m the coolest, and you are inferior’.”

“No, no, no. It’s a misunderstanding! Hear me out, babygirl…” Tartaglia gently grips the both of your shoulders and stares intimately into your eyes.

“I just wanted… You know, I just meant…” he blushes crazily and his expression radiates sheer embarrassment as he tries to seek excuse to explain himself. “I, uhh… Consider myself a great fighter, and you are exceptionally good, too…”

“Exceptionally good?” 

“Absolutely exceptionally good, babygirl. But I am simply worried, okay? I’m scared”, he rubs your shoulders up and down, as if trying to comfort you, but in honesty it rather comforts himself. “I don’t want you hurt. So you better stay home. Training.”

“Training only, nice. I will never fight real enemies if I am constantly kept hostage in Fatui training camp.”

“You’re just… so fragile. You know what I mean?”

“Uhuh. The Eleventh considers me a weakling. Nice discovery, if you weren't my boyfriend”, you free yourself from his grasp and go about the narrow long corridor of headquarters. “I thought you would trust in me and my power a tiny bit more.”

Ajax follows you immediately, his steps agile and steady as his hand gently takes yours.

“You may come with me next time. But tomorrow, I want you safe. Okay? And please… I’d never call you weak… Never.”

“Mm…” you gently caress his gloved hand with your thumb, almost failing to see him in the dim light, but feeling his erratic breath caused by quick talking.

Capitano

“I can’t let you do this, woman. You are acting immature. You have always been a bit naïve, but this is where you should start obeying me”, Capitano says with a harsh, yet genteel aura around him.

“And my love for you, Capitano, is also naïve?”

At that moment Capitano drops his expressionless, emotionless act and looks at you with horrified glint in his eyes. He wants to comfort you, to apologise for his words but realises that was once said cannot be taken back. Oh how he wishes he would hold his tongue for a little while longer!

“I didn't mean that, woman. You know that I would never-”

He shuts his eyes for a second, a storm of overwhelming thoughts crosses his mind over and over while you are standing before him, patiently waiting for an answer and expecting your husband to provide you with a proper one.

“You are weak… no not weak; you are frail. You need protection. And I want to protect you, but I may not be able to do it in Natlan. Not when I am wounded myself.”

“Oh, believe me, Capitano, I can and will protect myself. And you know what, big guy? I don't even need your permission to come with you anymore. You will accept me, because I am your wife, and I will be by your side. Especially, when you are wounded.”

Capitano raises his hand to caress your cheek with his knuckles, light-weight.

“You are going to get yourself in trouble, love.”

“I know my limits, and I can clearly see that my husband needs me, even though he won't ever admit it.”

The raven-haired tall gracious man with impeccably sharp aura around him speaks with emotion:

“But if you get hurt, I won’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

You stand on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks.

“Oh, Capitano, I will take care of myself just to spare you the trouble.”

Dottore

“You’re a dork, I don’t even have pity for your stupidity. You got this chemical burn deserved.”

“Said who? You’re the one treating it right now, Doctor”, you respond with a tiny smug smirk, watching how carefully and gently Dottore is working on your palm. The burn is not too big, but painful enough to prevent you from completing your tasks for today.

Dottore reveals his teeth, groaning at you, his self highly dissatisfied and frustrated. He smoothly applies a herbal-smelling ointment and covers your hand with tight bandages.

“I insist you staying home tomorrow. I will speak with Pierro and describe him the accident.”

“Surely you don't have to go to such lengths for me only, Dottore. You know, I could speak with the Jester myself.”

Dottore stabs the knife with which he had been cutting the bandages, into the desk.

“NO, he won’t even speak to you. He is very uneasy to find”, he lets out a long held sigh. “Besides, brat, I think I made it clear you need to rest at home.” He glares at you with his poisonous ruby eyes. “Primarily, in your bed.”

“If the doctor says so”, you shrug, too exhausted to argue and too grateful for his help to deny him of this small favour. “I do not mind staying in my bed for a little while.”

Once the treatment has come to an end, Dottore once again checks your hand; quickly, lightly, without a single unnecessary touch or glance. 

“Sorry for calling you a dork. I didn't mean it wholeheartedly”, he clears throat. “Though I still think your ass is highly careless.”

“I will work on it, hopefully my curiosity doesn't lead me to any other injuries”, you wave to him upon leaving the lab. “Can’t have my doctor worry too much.”

“Remember to look closer what you touch in my lab next time, silly creature.”

Dainsleif

“I think you’re forgetting how difficult it is to fight Abyss alone. I can’t believe you disobeyed me again and went seeking for abyssal hounds. This is infuriating, Y/N. I have never seen a woman act so stupidly and rashly before”, Dainsleif says roughly, through gritted teeth. His expression is grave and ominous.

“I feel strong desire to take your Vision away and lock you home until you learn to respect my rules.”

“Your ‘rules’?” You raise your eyebrow, looking at Dainsleif no less infuriated and frustrated than he is currently. “You think if you’re older than me, I have to act like your little puppet on strings who does everything that is ordered? Hell no, Dainsleif. We won’t have it this way.”

“FOOL!” He yells, his arm grabbing you tightly and pressing you against a wall. “You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have been hurt! You don’t know the thoughts running through my mind when I imagine you hurt; I want to burn the whole world for you.”

“Let me go, Dain. Please, this is uncalled for, you know that, right?” As you gently ask him Dainsleif slowly, but hesitantly releases your arm and takes a step back, closing his hands behind his back.

“I ask you once again to refrain from getting yourself harmed by the hand of Abyss.”

“Did you just call me a fool? I thought you were better than that.”

“For that ruthless language, I apologise. However I need your obedience when it comes to survival matters.”

Slowly, you walk over to look into Dainsleif’s eyes.

“I understand your tragedy wholeheartedly and I sincerely respect your wish to protect me, but you need to understand that my fighting skills are not low anymore, I can be efficient and agile.”

Dainsleif’s head hangs down, you see that he is contemplating something in the depth of his heart.

“I see”, his hand reaches out to you, even though he is not looking in your direction. Dainself intertwines his fingers with yours and speaks, much quieter and softer words:

“I’m sorry for calling you a fool. That was uncalled for”, his hand gives you a light but worried squeeze. “Just… be careful, Y/N.”

Alhaitham 

“You’re acting like a child. Your opinions are too dreamy, irrational and irrelevant”, Alhaitham speaks briefly as he opens his book and hides his sharp gaze somewhere in the middle of the paragraphs.

Having acknowledged his disregard to you with pain in your heart you throw your arms around and ask him with bright feeling which is contradicting his own manner of speaking.

“Speak about irrelevance! You are the embodiment of irrationality yourself, for guilting me into thinking that you actually care for me.”

Alhaitham stays still for a moment but a tense squeeze he gives the book in his fingers raises even more contradictory emotions between you. 

“I knew you are a difficult person to get intimately acquainted with, but your actions proved that you had at least a bit of attraction towards me. If not, then your choice of words and manner of speaking to personally me was too extreme. If not, and you are dreaded by the mere thought of me being intimately honest with you, spit it out. I don’t want you to play the romance where it no really belongs. I don’t want you to like me out of pity.”

“But I don’t”, Alhaitham finally closes the book and removes from his seat. “Your opinions and decisions make me question whether or not we are compatible enough.”

“That is because you are thinking too rationally.”

“And you are thinking too irrationally.”

“You were the one to touch my hand and hug me in a very personal way. And if I am not mistaken, you are the man who never touches anyone and is dreaded by a mere thought of being pulled out from your serenity.”

Alhaitham then shivers slightly, his body mannerisms betraying distress and frustration that is not by a long shot defined in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry for calling you these words. These are bad words, I should not be disrespecting you so”, he looks away, giving his lip a strong bite whereas finally giving you a relief: “I always thought and I still think that you are a perfect companion for me, but our opinions are very unlike.”

“So you think two people cannot get accustomed to living with each other if they have different choice of words or thinking! Alhaitham, this is laughable.”

“The only laughable thing right now is that I desperately want to hug you”, without further hesitation he pulls you into his arms, an embrace filled with warmth and dedication, while his fingers gently stroke your back. “I apologise, my love.”

Baizhu

“You are being too nosy and impatient, sweetheart. I asked you to not ask me specifics of my contracts and yet here you are - interrogating me like some sort of criminal. I am feeling pressured and most frustrated!” He throws his arms around. “Darling, if you could give me some space, I would finish what I started with no further delay.”

“Am I violating your space by simply caring for your well-being? Baizhu, your contract has gone way too far; your help to people robs you of your own happiness, can you not see it?”

“I will be most contented if you simply leave me to finish my work. I would be happy if you simply encouraged me, but I’d be even more grateful if you stopped asking me so many questions.”

You know perfectly well what it’s like to sacrifice yourself for other people’s sake however you could not any longer bear seeing your love life being disrupted by Baizhu constantly feeling sick and suffering. You want nothing more than him to feel safe, secure and well, but instead this curious pharmacist only risks more and more his life in exchange of knowledge and improvement.

Though, Baizhu did recognise your words as a simple statement of care, he only admitted it in a few days. While you were helping him sort his things out in the pharmacy, Baizhu dropped his formal act and gently touched your hand.

“Darling?”

You stopped sorting at once when you heard what he declared:

“I’m sorry, I was so rude to you speaking about my health.”

You turn to face him and notice the sincerest apology in his snake eyes.

“I just wish you’d understand that my worry for you is not intended to make you uncomfortable or distressed.”

“I do understand it now. I will try my best to not bring you suffering from seeing me suffer. I cannot reject what I had started, but I will seek ways to heal both me and you from this torture.”

The gentle confession ends with Baizhu rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand. 

[rafesangelita]

rafe + voyeurism

warnings: handyman!rafe, rafe is pervy lol, flirting, pet names, rafe watches you in the shower, masturbation, oral (m. & f. receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, shower sex, slight fluff, rafe answers the door when your date knocks >:)

a/n: inspired by the small piece i wrote here <3 all credit to @rafesheaven for handyman!rafe 🤍 i highly recommend her fics with him ♡

wc: 2.4k

“what’s the problem now, pretty?” rafe answered the phone, popping open a can of beer as your sweet little voice sounded on the other line. “rafe, my shower is out!” you whined, adjusting the pink fluffy robe around your body. “well, what’s wrong with it, babe?” your cheeks heated at the name. rafe knew exactly what was wrong with it, he’s the one who messed it up last time he was there so he had a reason to come back. “i twisted the knob for it to turn on, but i think the handle is loose..” you explained. rafe hummed, getting up from his recliner. “i’ll be there in five.”

rafe lived in the same apartments as you, just in a different complex not too far from your own. it wasn’t long before you heard his heavy footsteps outside of your door, opening it before he could knock. “are you wearing anything underneath that?” he motioned towards your pre-shower ensemble. you whispered a ‘no..’ dragging him in by his large arm. “i have to be ready in one hour!” you were frantic as rafe followed behind you, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “it’s nearly seven o’clock, where are you off to?” you moved aside to let rafe through, taking a seat on the edge of the sink counter.

“my friends set me up on a blind date, ‘said they were tired of me being single.. so.” rafe couldn’t help the way his jaw ticked. “a blind date, huh? is he picking you up here?” rafe set his toolbox down as he got on his knees. “yeah, he insisted on doing so, too. which i thought was a little weird but.. it’s okay i guess.” you shrugged, crossing one leg over the other. rafe looked back, the opening of your robe exposing your bare legs and thighs. thankfully, you were too distracted by something else to see rafe’s tongue glide over his bottom lip. “so.. uh, tell me about this guy..”

rafe let you ramble on, feigning interest as he learned your date was just an arrogant asshole. fortunately, you had a habit of veering off track when it came to having conversations, which lead to you now telling him about a recipe you saw on a late night cooking show. “i’ll make it and you can come over and taste test it, how does that sound?” rafe nodded. he would much rather taste test something else. “i think that sounds great.” he sat up, tossing the last tool in his toolbox with a clank! “alright, moment of truth,” rafe twisted the shower knob, and sure enough the water came out perfectly.

you hopped off the counter, not realizing your robe had come undone a little bit. the valley of your breasts were peeking through, the sight making rafe let out a breath. “thank you!” you grabbed his hand and helped him off the floor. “it’s no problem.” the man in front of you shamelessly stared at your chest, your eyes following his. you gasped at the amount of cleavage that was out, spinning around to cover yourself up. “i’m so sorry, i don’t know how that happened!” you covered your face in embarrassment as rafe laughed to himself. “i’m not complaining.”

rafe walked around you, making you topple forward a bit when he landed a playful smack on your backside. if it was anyone else, you would’ve kicked them out of your apartment with a threat to make a police report.. but it was rafe, so you offered him your fridge instead. “you could take whatever you want! i’ll be out in a sec!” rafe took you up on your offer, grabbing a beer that you specifically bought for him whenever he made a surprise visit. popping it open, he took a swig, reaching for his phone in his pocket only for it not to be there. “shit.” he put the beer down, checking the rest of pockets.

realizing it must be in the bathroom, rafe cursed under his breath when he heard the shower running. “y/n?” you couldn’t hear him over the water, your eyes screwed shut as you washed your hair. opening the door slightly, rafe peeked in and saw his phone on the floor. he swallowed thickly, the scent of your shampoo filling his senses. don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up, rafe chanted in his head, failing miserably when he ultimately zeroed in on your naked form. he knew you were perfect already, but seeing you like this was next level.

he watched as the suds from your hair dripped down to your tits, the clear glass growing foggy with shower steam. he wondered how you’d feel in his hands, wishing so bad he could take a tit in his mouth. rafe’s chest rose and fell, his cock stirring in his pants as you turned around and bent down for your body wash. luckily for you, the steam obstructed the view rafe ached so bad to see. without a care in the world, rafe palmed himself through his work jeans, his head tipping back at the much needed friction. “fuck, yeah..” he whispered to himself, thumb gliding over his sensitive tip.

you lathered yourself up, turning around so your back was facing rafe. with hungry eyes, he watched you scrub down your legs, catching a glimpse of your sudsy folds. pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, rafe refrained from letting out a groan as his hand jerked himself with vigor. he wondered if you knew just how bad he wanted you. if it was up to him, you’d be more than just the pretty tenant he likes to bother, and him more than the handyman, but he could dream. rinsing yourself off under the stream of water, you stood there, relishing in the hot water pattering against your skin.

rafe could make you so so happy if you’d just let him. he’d treat you with so much love and care everyday, and fuck you until you were in hysterics. he imagined what it would be like to be in a relationship with you, how waking up next to you would look like. he was so tired of envisioning these things, he shut the door behind him, startling you. “rafe?” you peered up at the man standing in the middle of your bathroom, his hand in his pants as he looked at you with dark eyes. “w-what are you doing?” he didn’t say anything as he started undressing, his shirt falling to the floor.

“tell me to leave.” his jeans were next to go, the imprint of his length making you swallow thickly. rafe smirked at your lack of response, internally singing as you slid open the glass door for him to join you. you had butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he took off his underwear. rafe was so tall, he had to lean down in order to get in without hitting himself, his broad shoulders barely fitting through. once he was in, your cheeks heated as reality hit you. here you were, standing naked with the man who’s been a pervy flirt for nearly six months now.

“you okay?” rafe’s hands found your hips, pulling you close until his cock sat heavily between you two. you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. he groaned when he felt your nipples against his chest. bringing his head down, you let out a yelp when his hands snaked down to your ass and squeezed. you reached up on your tippy toes and kissed him, his mouth moving perfectly with yours. rafe wasted no time, backing you up into the shower wall where he grinded his hard-on between your thighs. taking the base of him in your hand, you gasped at how hard he felt in your palm.

“can i?” you were already getting on your knees before him, rafe groaning at how eager you felt to please him. rafe grabbed a handful of your hair, staring at you intently as you stroked him before meeting his eyes. you looked gorgeous like this. eyes sparkling up at his face, rafe admired your features under the soft light of the bathroom. you kissed his tip, licking a stripe up from the underside of his cock before he pushed himself between your lips. your pink nails dug into his skin, your eyebrows knitting together as he forced his length down your throat.

you moaned, the sensation making him shudder. “fuck,” he grunted through gritted teeth, “feels’ so fuckin good.” he balanced an arm on the wall, his eyes screwing shut as you worked your magic on his cock. the way you bobbed your head up and down made him want to shoot his load all over your face, your hands cupping your tits as you squeezed the sensitive swells of your breasts. rafe was mesmerized, his mouth hanging open as he watched you pull off of him with a pop! you smiled up at the man above you, rubbing the head of his cock across your lips.

deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, rafe picked you up like a ragdoll, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kissed you roughly. you whimpered when your back met the cold tile on the wall. spreading your thighs apart, you looked down when rafe guided himself between your slick folds, your clit aching to be touched. you two exchanged looks, as if he was asking for permission. placing your palms on his shoulders for leverage, you practically melted in his hands when he thrusted into you. whimpering his name, rafe urged you to lock your ankles around his back.

“y’have no idea how much i’ve thought about doing this to you.” he spoke into the curve of your neck, his body glistening from shielding you from the shower head. you recalled laying in bed one particular night, thinking about rafe and those rough hands of his. needless to say you fell into a deep slumber imagining your fingers as his own. your mouth opened and closed a few times like you wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. watching you struggle was easily the hottest thing rafe has ever seen. “talk, baby, i need to hear that voice so i can dream of it later.”

soon after he said that, you were whining and blabbering about how much you thought about him when you were alone. “yeah? ‘touching yourself to the thought of me?” he taunted, hips slamming into yours as the heels of your feet dug into his back. “yes! oh, god— i just wanted to feel you inside of me..” rafe cursed at your words, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. “show me how you did it, ‘pretty. let me feel this pussy squeeze around me.” you let out a shaky breath, the pads of your fingers finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. you gasped, your back arching off of the wall.

rafe watched you rub delicate circles on the little bud, your body jolting every now and then when the feeling became overwhelming. “can’t!” you shook your head when you were close, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his hips. rafe moved your hand out of the way and replaced it with his own, his fingers working mercilessly on your puffy clit. letting out a scream, your forehead fell on his shoulder as his release teetered on the edge of pure euphoria. he was going to fill you up soon, the thought alone making his hips stutter as you cried out in bliss.

rafe held you against his chest, his hot seed filling you up with every moan that left his mouth. you were jelly at this point, your orgasm hitting you in intense waves of ecstasy as rafe twitched inside your soaking cunt. slowly but surely, your highs subsided, both of you panting against each other’s lips. “think you could walk?” you shook your head, your thighs still visibly trembling at his sides. he nodded, reassuring you with a ‘okay, don’t worry baby.’ still holding you against the wall, rafe pulled out of you with a groan. whimpering at the feeling of being empty, you watched as he twisted the shower knob off.

holding you bridal style, rafe stepped out of the shower and placed you gently on the sink counter. he quickly grabbed two towels from the little shelf you had in the bathroom and dried you off, wrapping the soft cotton around your shoulders. you licked your lips, the sight of the water droplets dripping down his abs was making you ready for round two. wrapping the towel around his waist, rafe carried you once more to your bed. “again.” you looked up at him with a pout. rafe laughed, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “yeah? you want more?” you nodded, pulling him on top of you.

slotting himself between your thighs, he kissed you deeply before there was a knock at the door. pausing for a second, you wondered who it could be before your eyes widened. “that’s my date! well— was, my date.. oh, god!” you giggled, covering your face in embarrassment. glancing at the clock on your bedside table, rafe smiled. 8:00 PM. “wow, he’s just in time.” he got up, making you gasp. “don’t be mean to him!” you called out as rafe answered the front door. the poor guy’s smile faded quickly when he saw a shredded, over six feet tall of a man answer the door.

“sorry, i must be at the wrong apartment..” he blinked, about to leave before rafe stopped him. “you’re here for y/n, right? she’s inside.” rafe reached for the flowers in your date’s hand, flashing him a wink. “she’s a little preoccupied right now, though.” shutting the door in his face, rafe hid the flowers behind his back before stalking back inside your room. bless your heart, your towel was gone as you laid naked and pretty, waiting all for him. “i hope you like pink roses, ‘cause i just got you a dozen of ‘em.” you sat up, a gasp leaving your lips as rafe kneeled down on the side of your bed.

“aw, how pretty!” you gave them a sniff, pecking rafe’s cheek. “can you put them in water for me?” you batted your eyelashes at him, the action sending rafe into a frenzy. you were so cute. doing as you asked, rafe came back and got on his knees once more. “i was thinking.. you were so gracious enough to take me in your mouth, it’s only right if i return the favor, yeah?” he hooked your thighs to the tops of his shoulders, excitement pooling in your belly. “yes—” you were cut off when you felt rafe’s tongue delve between your folds. “you’re so fuckin’ sweet, i can eat you all night.” and he did.

[majikkulu]

✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

╭₊˚๑  ૮꒰˶˃  ᵕ  ˂˶꒱ა  ♡  in  this  pick-a-card  reading,  we’ll  explore  random  things  about  your  future  spouse. their  hobbies,  interests,  habits,  sense  of  humor,  or  little  details  about  their  life.  keep  in  mind  that  this  is  a  general  reading! take  what  resonates  and  let  go  of  the  rest.

pick  the  picture  or  pile  that  calls  to  you,  and  let  the  magic  begin!  ✧˖°.₊  ♡  ✩˚  ༘

☁️₊˚੭

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE ONE ﹑ ﹒

✩ they  might  be  a  lover  of  books,  always  eager  to  expand  their  mind  with  philosophy,  psychology,  or  history

✩ they  have  a  strong  artistic  side,  whether  it’s  painting,  producing  music,  photography,  or  some  other  creative  pursuit

✩ they  are  extremely  expressive  and  don’t  hold  back,  whether  it’s  their  emotions,  opinions,  or  excitement  over  something  they  love.  they  might  have  a  naturally  animated  way  of  speaking  or  a  strong  presence  in  conversations

✩ they  love  learning  new  skills  and  thrive  in  environments  that  challenge  them,  especially  in  collaborative  settings  where  they  can  bounce  ideas  off  others  or  show  off  what  they’ve  mastered.  they  might  enjoy  competitive  activities

✩ they  like  to  yap  a  lot,  always  up  for  debates  or  long,  winding  conversations  about  everything  and  anything.  they  could  have  strong  opinions  and  enjoy  playing  devil’s  advocate

✩ deep  late-night  talks  are  something  they  enjoy,  whether  it’s  about  life,  the  universe,  or  personal  experiences.  they  find  these  moments  meaningful  and  might  open  up  the  most  when  the  world  is  quiet  and  distractions  are  gone

✩ they  could  be  from  a  different  cultural  background  or  have  a  deep  appreciation  for  exploring  different  cultures.  they  might  love  traveling,  learning  new  languages,  or  immersing  themselves  in  traditions  different  from  their  own  

✩ they  question  everything  and  rarely  take  things  at  face  value.  they  might  analyze  social  norms,  challenge  beliefs,  or  constantly  seek  to  understand  the  deeper  meaning  behind  things  rather  than  just  accepting  them  as  they  are  

✩ your  future  spouse  might  be  a  romantic  at  heart,  even  if  they  don’t  show  it  in  an  obvious  way.  they  may  present  themselves  as  detached  or  cool  on  the  surface

✩ relationships  and  chemistry  are  really  important  to  them

✩ they  are  direct  and  value  honesty  above  all.  they  don’t  like  sugarcoating  things  and  might  prefer  blunt  conversations  over  passive-aggressive  behavior.  they  respect  people  who  say  things  as  they  are,  even  if  the  truth  isn’t  always  pretty

✩ they  may  enjoy  dry  humor,  sarcasm,  or  simply  observing  people.  they  could  have  a  sharp  wit,  make  side  comments  under  their  breath,  or  find  humor  in  the  way  people  interact  and  behave

✩ they  also  have  a  goofy,  innocent  kind  of  humor.  they  might  love  wordplay

✩ they  are  flirty  as  hell  and  love  to  flirt  a  lot.  whether  through  teasing,  charming  words,  or  playful  banter

✩ they  might  be  a  pet  lover  too,  the  type  to  spoil  animals  or  treat  their  pets  like  family.  they  could  find  comfort  in  their  presence  and  may  even  prefer  animals  over  people  at  times  

✩  they  express  emotions  through  words.  whether  it’s  sweet  messages,  deep  conversations,  or  even  writing

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE TWO ﹑ ﹒

✩ your  future  spouse  is  someone  strategic,  always  thinking  ahead  and  making  calculated  moves.  they  rarely  act  on  impulse  and  prefer  to  plan  things  out

✩ they  might  be  into  video  games,  coding,  or  chess

✩ they  could  have  an  interest  in  investing,  whether  it's  stocks,  crypto,  or  business  ventures.  they  might  have  a  natural  talent  for  spotting  opportunities

✩ they  might  be  fascinated  by  the  paranormal  and  esoteric  topics.  they’re  open  to  exploring  the  unknown,  whether  it’s  astrology,  tarot,  or  conspiracy  theories

✩ they  could  love  watching  crime  documentaries  or  reading  about  unsolved  mysteries

✩ they  enjoy  moving  to  new  places,  embracing  change  and  fresh  starts.  they  don’t  like  feeling  stuck  in  one  place  for  too  long

✩ their  imagination  is  rich,  making  them  naturally  creative  and  capable  of  thinking  outside  the  box.  they  might  daydream  a  lot  or  come  up  with  unique  ideas  that  surprise  people

✩ they  might  love  road  trips,  preferring  the  excitement  of  spontaneous  adventures  over  structured  plans.  they  enjoy  the  feeling  of  freedom  that  comes  with  being  on  the  road

✩ they  likely  hate  overcrowded  places,  avoiding  them  whenever  possible.

✩ they  could  be  rich  as  hell,  either  through  their  own  ambition  and  hard  work  or  by  making  smart  investments

✩ your  future  spouse  doesn’t  reveal  everything  about  themselves  easily.  they  have  layers  to  them  and  only  open  up  to  people  they  truly  trust

✩ they  are  private  and  prefer  to  keep  their  life  lowkey.  they  don’t  like  too  much  attention  on  them  and  may  avoid  oversharing

✩ they  are  smart,  calculated,  and  always  thinking  a  few  steps  ahead.  they  don’t  make  reckless  decisions  and  prefer  to  analyze  situations  carefully  before  acting

✩ they  are  sneaky,  not  necessarily  in  a  bad  way,  but  in  how  they  operate.  they  move  in  silence  and  don’t  like  people  knowing  their  next  steps  until  they’ve  already  made  them

✩ they  likely  overthink  a  lot,  constantly  analyzing  situations,  conversations,  and  decisions.  their  mind  is  always  running,  and  they  might  struggle  to  shut  it  off

✩ they  have  strong  emotions  but  also  deep  trust  issues.  they  feel  things  intensely  but  might  have  trouble  fully  letting  their  guard  down  with  others

✩ they  might  have  left  behind  a  difficult  past,  carrying  experiences  that  shaped  them  into  the  person  they  are  today

✩ they  are  extremely  loyal  to  the  people  they  love,  willing  to  stand  by  them  no  matter  what.  once  they  let  someone  in,  they  are  deeply  devoted

✩ they  don’t  like  people  prying  into  their  business  and  will  shut  down  if  someone  tries  to  dig  too  deep  into  their  personal  life

✩ they  have  a  deep  and  quiet  devotion,  showing  their  love  in  ways  that  aren’t  always  obvious.  they  might  not  be  overly  expressive,  but  their  actions  speak  louder  than  words

✩ they  are  funny  but  brutally  honest.  they  say  things  as  they  are  and  don’t  sugarcoat  the  truth,  even  if  it’s  uncomfortable

✩ they  might  enjoy  dark  humor,  finding  amusement  in  things  that  others  might  consider  too  edgy  or  inappropriate

✩ they  could  use  humor  as  a  coping  mechanism,  making  jokes  about  their  pain  as  a  way  to  deal  with  it  rather  than  letting  it  weigh  them  down

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE THREE ﹑ ﹒

✩ your  future  spouse  is  the  curious  type,  always  eager  to  learn  and  discover  new  things

✩ they  love  researching  new  topics,  often  getting  lost  in  deep  dives  about  whatever  interests  them  at  the  moment

✩ i  do  get  gemini/virgo  vibes  from  them

✩ they  might  always  have  a  random  fact  to  share,  surprising  people  with  their  knowledge  of  the  most  unexpected  things

✩ they  may  be  interested  in  subjects  like  law  or  politics,  drawn  to  debates,  justice,  and  understanding  how  society  functions

✩ they  enjoy  things  that  remind  them  of  the  past,  feeling  a  deep  connection  to  history,  nostalgia,  and  tradition

✩ they  might  love  old  music,  classic  movies,  or  even  vintage  cars,  appreciating  the  timeless  quality  of  things  from  past  eras

✩ they  take  on  a  lot  of  responsibility,  often  feeling  like  they  need  to  be  the  one  holding  everything  together

✩ they  might  be  into  working  out,  using  fitness  as  a  way  to  stay  disciplined  and  clear  their  mind

✩ they  analyze  situations  deeply,  never  taking  things  at  face  value  and  always  searching  for  the  bigger  picture

✩ they  rely  on  logic  and  facts  to  make  decisions,  preferring  to  think  things  through  rather  than  acting  on  emotions  alone

✩ they  might  be  someone  who  always  feels  the  need  to  take  care  of  others,  naturally  stepping  into  a  protector  or  provider  role

✩ they  have  strong  emotional  ties  to  their  past,  holding  onto  memories,  people,  or  experiences  that  shaped  them

✩ they  are  always  questioning  things,  rarely  accepting  anything  without  digging  deeper  and  figuring  it  out  for  themselves

✩ they  dislike  dishonesty  and  can  see  through  people  who  try  to  manipulate  or  deceive  them

✩ their  humor  is  quick-witted,  sharp,  and  often  unexpected,  making  people  laugh  with  their  clever  comebacks

✩ they  don’t  always  laugh  at  obvious  jokes,  but  they  appreciate  clever  wordplay,  irony,  or  dark  humor

✩ they  may  humorously  exaggerate  how  overwhelming  life  can  be,  playfully  making  self-deprecating  remarks  about  their  workload  or  the  stress  they  endure

✩ they  stand  up  for  what  they  believe  in,  never  backing  down

✩ they  could  be  the  eldest  sibling,  carrying  the  weight  of  responsibility  and  leadership  from  a  young  age

✩ they  feel  deeply  nostalgic  about  certain  places  or  traditions,  finding  comfort  in  things  that  remind  them  of  home  or  childhood

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE FOUR ﹑ ﹒

✩ your  future  spouse  might  be  into  cooking,  gardening,  or  fashion

✩ they’re  good  at  managing  money,  knowing  how  to  save  while  still  enjoying  life’s  pleasures  

✩ they  might  be  the  type  who  balances  multiple  jobs  or  responsibilities

✩ they  enjoy  activities  like  hiking  or  picnics,  appreciating  the  simplicity  of  being  outdoors  

✩ they  might  start  many  things  but  take  time  to  fully  commit,  needing  to  explore  their  options  before  settling  on  one  path  

✩ they  are  skilled  at  handling  multiple  aspects  of  life  without  getting  overwhelmed 

✩ they  are  deeply  loving,  protective,  and  affectionate,  but  they  show  it  in  subtle,  consistent  ways  

✩ they  don’t  rush  things,  preferring  to  take  their  time  and  make  thoughtful  choices  

✩ they  struggle  with  making  decisions,  especially  when  faced  with  two  good  options,  overanalyzing  every  possible  outcome  

✩ they  may  have  a  habit  of  overthinking  before  acting,  weighing  all  the  pros  and  cons  in  their  mind  

✩ they  have  a  fun,  easy-going  humour,  making  people  laugh  with  their  relaxed  and  effortless  charm  

✩ they  might  poke  fun  at  life’s  contradictions,  pointing  out  irony  in  a  way  that’s  both  funny  and  insightful  

✩ they  might  like  to  tease,  but  they  also  know  how  to  give  the  right  compliments  at  the  right  time  

✩ they  aren’t  impulsive

✩ they’ve  been  patient  in  life,  understanding  that  good  things  take  time  to  build  

✩ they  love  nature,  animals,  or  anything  visually  appealing,  finding  beauty  in  small  details  

✩ they  like  cozy  places,  appreciating  warm,  inviting  spaces  that  feel  like  home  

✩ they  are  careful  about  expressing  their  true  emotions,  taking  time  before  fully  opening  up  

✩ they  might  take  a  while  before  fully  letting  their  guard  down,  needing  to  feel  truly  safe  before  revealing  their  deepest  thoughts  

✩ they  sometimes  use  sarcasm

✩ they  might  have  a  natural  ability  to  comfort  others,  making  people  feel  safe  and  understood  

✩ they  don’t  mind  waiting  for  results  if  the  process  is  rewarding,  knowing  that  patience  leads  to  the  best  outcomes  

✩ they  enjoy  making  things  beautiful,  whether  it’s  their  home,  their  appearance,  or  the  small  moments  in  life