#guys don’t worry I like Jo

[mrsbackwardbaseballcap]

the way jo talks about Lexie like she’s gossip

[idk-i-just-really-like-tsc]

girl who is so stressed abt meredith greys well being

[unriding]

— HOUSEMATE! TOGAME JO X F! READER

SUMMARY𓈒 you don’t realize how loud you are, do you? or maybe it’s just the walls? his patience seems to also be running thin, but he’s always thought of himself as someone who tries to be a pretty decent guy.. most of the time. a decent enough guy that doesn’t regularly fantasize about fucking choji’s childhood friend raw, at the very least.

CONTAINS ﾉ ft. explicit smut (18+), masturbation (reader as well as togame), confused mutual pining, thigh fucking, usage of pet names, fingering, marking, multiple orgasms, squirting, very vague traces of jealousy & possessiveness, eavesdropping (kind of), size difference, creampie, toy usage (just reader)

a bit of an old draft with minimal editing- but thought i should touch it up a bit and finally release it into the wild sjdnkxk, so sorry friends!

Out of all the things Togame has noticed since you’ve moved into the vacant room right beside his own, three of them have stuck out the most.

The first thing he’s picked up on is that you seem to have a preference for lounge shorts. Perhaps, for you— the shorter, the more comfortable. They just happen to be the ones that ride up your ass whenever you move around, but he’s no pervert.

He tries not to look when it happens.

The next thing is that the walls in Choji’s apartment are thinner than he remembers them being. It’s hopeless to the point where no amount of soundproofing foam would help. In fact, they’re so thin that a part of him worries they might suddenly collapse if he puts even so much as a quarter of his weight against it.

This means that, unfortunately for you, he’s heard every single noise that’s ever slipped from your lips.

Everything.

That leaves the most important thing so far— that you have absolutely no clue about thing number one or thing number two. He’s more than certain of this fact.

Togame is only human after all, so whenever you make the brash decision to touch yourself— technically only a couple feet away from him, he might add, he’s doomed to yet another restless night (as if anyone would be able to sleep soundly with how loud you always seem to be).

Every fiber in his body refuses to make eye contact with you the morning after. It would make him guilty, maybe— feel like some sort of creep for listening to you get yourself off. He has to reason with the persistent voice in his head, remind himself that it’s not his fault your room is beside his own and it’s not his fault you’re always so loud.

Even with how badly this whole incident is affecting him, the way you behave around him hasn’t changed at all. Ever. It’s a mystery as to how the possibility of being overheard has never even seemed to cross your mind once.

Wholeheartedly clueless. Did you really think of him as that good of a guy?

If someone were to ask him, Togame would probably say that he likes to think of himself as someone who at least tries to be a decent guy- for the most part. He just helps out whenever he can.

It’s only that you make it really, really hard for him to think of himself that way. He swears it gets louder each time, like you want others to hear you. The noises that slip out grow more and more obscene— though he’s unsure if this is reality or his mind playing tricks on him.

The worst part of it all is the timing.

He doesn’t hear the buzzing through the walls when he comes home after a long day out, but when he’s home, maybe even after bumping into you once or twice in the kitchen earlier, he’s fated to hear you later.

It’s a little odd, but he chalks it up to his own delusions.

Maybe just a subconscious way to justify his perversion. If you like him like that, it would make him look like less of a creep in this whole situation.

But the timing is still interesting, he notes. Today marks day number six of no noises, only silence at night. In fact, he’s barely seen you this week at all.

You would think the silence means he can finally sleep— relax and get some rest without a raging hard on along with a wave of guilt to crush him afterwards, but it seems to be the exact opposite.

He’s worried sick that you may have found out- or that something’s in the air.

It’s not like he’s been actively seeking out your voice or anything like that. It just so happens to be that it’s loud and there’s nowhere for him to escape- and maybe that he can’t fall asleep until he rubs one out.

He’ll admit that maybe it was wrong of him to start matching his pace with your own— but it’s harder not to. Your voice is so clear that his hand just decides to match you all on its own.

“Togame?”

The cereal box in his hand slips and falls onto the counter with a loud thud. “Oops,” you laugh, and it makes his heart skip a second beat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. What’re you doing?”

“Oh,” his eyebrows raise, a habit he’s picked up whenever he’s paying close attention to someone’s voice, “just a snack.” Maybe if he talks a little slower than usual, you won’t pick up on the way his heartbeat has started to speed up now that you’re directly beside him.

“Hm? A snack?” You inch closer towards him, and he swallows a big gulp. Today is no different than any other day. You’re wearing a sports bra— the tiny shorts to pair with it, and he curses his mind for how fast it starts to imagine something more obscene.

He shakes the thought out of his head immediately.

“Why’re you eating now?” You decide to peer around his arm, entirely oblivious to the way your chest brushes against him- and he stiffens. “We were gonna eat with Choji later, right? For our movie night thing.”

He thinks something resembling worry flashes across your face the next second. “You’re still gonna watch it with us…. right?”

“Course I am. I can eat a lot, y’know.”

It’s shameful how fast the delusions start flooding in. Delusions being: maybe you’d be disappointed if he didn’t join you. Maybe you’d actually wanted to be beside him- he wants to think this, and perhaps if you weren’t staring at him, he’d try and shake this thought out of his head before he starts to believe it himself.

You’re just being nice to him. You’re always nice to everyone. Maybe oblivious to everything around you too, but still nice.

And you also haven’t taken notice of the way your tits are now pushing against his elbow, but he doesn’t mention this. Though he doesn’t move away, either.

“If you say so,” your lips curl into a smile, “I always see you eating. Is that how you got your muscles so big?”

Big?

He jerks his head to look at you, a bit too quickly to look nonchalant, but you’ve already left your spot beside him (much to his dismay), peering into the fridge before grabbing your own snack.

“I hope Choji picks a good one this time,” you huff, “the last movie was so weird.”

“Yeah.. I’m sure he will..” the warmth rushing to his cheeks makes it hard to get out anything else.

“Also— oh?” You seem to finally realize just how much your shorts have ridden up when you awkwardly tug them down with your free hand, Togame tearing his gaze away from you as soon as you peer back up at him again. “Sorry. Make sure to tell Choji to text me when you guys set it up, okay? I’ll be in my room.”

By the time he nods, you’re already out of the room.

It usually takes Togame one, long nap to revert back to normal. ‘Normal’ meaning being able to stay in a ten foot radius of you without the desire to fold you in half and take you on your own bed intruding his mind.

Out of all the days his strategy doesn’t work, fate chooses today.

If anything, he’s in a worse place than when you were latched onto his arm earlier. You’ve actually managed to make it into his dream. It’s as clear as day in his head- the way you were clinging onto his shoulders as he fucked you on the countertop. So good that your legs were shaking as you tried to wrap them around his middle, nails digging deep into his shoulder blades as he whispered for you to keep quiet over and over.

You couldn’t. Still making the same noises he hears from the other side of the wall, only this time— straight in his ear. And of course, you sounded even prettier up close.

If only it was real.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his temples before he finds himself in front of your room again, making a mental note not to lock eyes with you once you’re out so that this odd situation doesn’t somehow worsen for him.

He was just here to call you to join him and Choji for movie night- that was all. That’s what Choji had told him to do anyway- to go grab you and help choose from the heaping pile of movies he had brought back.

But then he hears something.

It’s only when he’s about to knock when the sound registers in his ears. It’s the painfully familiar buzzing sound that comes from right behind your door, and it goes straight to the bulge in his pants before he even gets a chance to fight it off.

Shit.

One sharp inhale later and his fist still hovers an inch in front of your door, unsure of whether he should knock or tell Choji to give you a few minutes. Though…Choji has never really been the type to sit and wait around, was he..?

He would probably come get you himself sooner or later, and that seems to fall under the last thing on his list of things he’d want that to happen right now. Not when you’re like this— so he settles for one gentle knock before leaning in to check if you heard him.

It’s silent.

He presses his ear flat against your door and listens for a reply- only to hear you gasp, followed by a muffled moan that he can only imagine as being your hand over your mouth, and he jerks back instantly. A terrible, terrible idea.

It’s pathetic just how strongly his body reacts to your voice, the aching between his legs much more apparent now that he’s heard you moan up close like this. Just like his dream. You sound just as needy, and he briefly wonders how your voice might change if it were him touching you instead.

But with how your moans getting louder with each passing second, it’s only a matter of time until Choji hears.

“Hey….” he calls out, fist knocking on your door with a little more urgency this time. “Are you awake?”

The buzzing switches off in a second, and it falls silent. In any other situation, he’d laugh- because you really are the most oblivious person he’s ever met if you thought he couldn’t hear it in the first place.

“…H-huh..? To..game?” You call out- the obvious strain in your voice doing nothing to help the predicament he’s got himself in.

“Yea… it’s me. Choji’s waiting.”

“A-Ah… I’ll be there, um—”

Fuck. You scan the room to find something to put on— anything— and suddenly every article of clothing you’ve had on has gone missing from where you remember tossing them. You settle for an oversized tee, frantically tossing your blanket around to find your shorts— but they’re still nowhere to be found.

Horrible timing.

“Man- you two are taking forever!” Choji yells from the other end of the hallway. “Come out already! Look- pick between my right and left hand. I already narrowed the movies down to two!”

Togame hears a loud rustling from you in response, and then a stammered “Fuck— hold on! I’m coming…”

The door swings open a second later, and you’re immediately faced with your 6’2 roommate, green eyes a little wide when he looks down into your own. You’re suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you’re not even wearing panties under the shirt you’ve thrown on, and oh- you really should have done something about the juices that have already started to run down your thighs.

His composure cracks a bit.

“You look pretty out of breath there,” he notes, eyes flickering behind you. It’s not that he’s looking for anything in particular- just a reaction. Maybe a bit of panicking would confirm that he didn’t just imagine you touching yourself, and- perhaps he was never a good guy, after all.

Good guys wouldn’t tease innocent girls like you.

The way your eyes go wide doesn’t go unnoticed by him, even more so when you start pushing against his chest, stammering something about “H-hey! No peeking in my room!”

He can tell you’re worried, even a bit desperate to get him away from there- though it doesn’t take a detective to spot the soaked rabbit vibrator laying flat on your bed. He knows you’d want to crawl into a hole if he saw that, and the thought alone makes him throb.

“Ah! You’re—” Choji calls out, but it’s too late. Togame stumbles back a couple steps, and you follow right after— gasping before your chest roughly crashes against his own as he moves to catch you. His arms wrap tightly around your middle, knee prodding between your thighs and your face heats up in an instant.

Oh.

“Are you two okay?” Choji takes a step forward, but Togame is quick to pull you closer against him, his body shifting to cover your frame. Time seems to slow.

“Ah… we’re okay. We’ll be there in a second, yeah? Put on the movie on the left for us, Choji.”

You’re frozen in place even after Choji agrees and rushes back to the living room with a cheerful hum, and you swear the pounding of your heart might just shatter your ribcage. You don’t have panties on. His knee is still pressed against your bare cunt, slick already soaking through his sweats and you know he feels it. You’re certain.

That must be why he told Choji to go back, right? There’s no way he doesn’t feel it. Can he feel the way your cunt throbs against him too?

It’s all way too embarrassing to handle.

All your precious efforts fly out the window that very second. Your attempts at keeping your interactions with Togame casual— just barely enough to catch his attention and look nonchalant while doing so.

You’re here now, dripping onto your crush’s leg and outing yourself as someone who touches themselves after barely brushing against their bicep an hour ago.

“U-um…” your face burns.

“Don’t worry,” you note that his chuckle sounds a little deeper than usual, and your cunt instinctively flutters around nothing. “I won’t tell him. You’re free to join him first. I’ll be there after I… change.”

“Wait—” He cuts you off with one hand coming to lightly rub the top of your head before he’s letting go of you, the other hand lingering on your back for just a moment longer before he gives you a soft smile.

The same smile that brought you to your knees the first time you saw it too.

Even with the bagginess of his sweats, you don’t miss the obvious bulge straining against them when he steps away, but he’s closing his door behind himself before you even manage to say anything else.

Just great, you think. Now he’s weirded out.

You figured soon after meeting him that he was always a kind guy. Even going as far as to give you a reassuring head pat of sorts after finding out you masturbate to the thought of having any form of interaction with him.

You’re eerily quiet when you clean yourself off and find a pair of shorts- one that suddenly decided to appear again, before meeting with Choji, plopping beside him with a weak huff as he instantly starts telling you about the movie he’s gotten ready.

“My friends from high school recommended this one to us! The one that got picked was the romance. They said it’s super sweet!”

“Ah… did they now? That sounds great.”

As if your situation couldn’t get any worse, you’d have to watch a romance next to Togame now. How embarrassing. The ache between your thighs becomes increasingly uncomfortable with each passing second too.

It’s not even like you even got to cum after the whole thing.

You shift to cross your legs, sinking further back into the couch and deeper into the pillows to distract yourself from the fact that you’ve just been denied the orgasm you saved up all week now.

It had taken everything in you to not touch yourself after seeing the way Togame’s muscles bulged against his shirt over and over again. His voice in the morning was much deeper, a little raspier— yet you were still intent on keeping your composure.

You didn’t touch yourself.

Because just maybe if you didn’t do it for a couple days, it would feel a little better tonight. Closer to how you’d feel if it were him touching instead of yourself.

It would have been a quick orgasm before you join the two for movie night. Everything went perfectly— you met up with Togame earlier, got close to him, and you even remembered to charge your vibrator to max.

Everything was just right…. except you forgot to account for the fact that Choji found movies quicker than expected. He never decides that fast. Damn him.

And now… Togame knows your secret and probably thinks you’re a creep. You sigh in defeat.

“Oh!” You stiffen. “You’re finally ready. Geez… hurry up and come sit!”

Your heart rate picks up as soon as Choji’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. When you turn to look at him, you’re shocked to see that he’s already looking at you, brows raising a bit as soon as the two of you lock eyes.

The tension has your lips pressing together in a tight line, heat rising to your cheeks— and you break your gaze first to save yourself some dignity.

“Sorry for the wait….” he drawls, “But Choji— scoot over a bit, yeah?”

“No way. You always take up the whole couch!” Choji points to the spot between the two of you. “You can squeeze in here!”

Oh. Your situation really couldn’t have gotten any worse than this.

You try to scoot over to give him more room, pressing your side deeper against the armrest, though it doesn’t do much to help- because as soon as Togame plops down between the two of you, his leg is flush against your own.

The way you struggle to give him more room only ends up with you awkwardly shifting to move halfway on top of him, your thigh now resting over his— and the two of you suck in a breath at the same time.

You do absolutely everything in your power to keep your eyes locked on the screen in front of you and not think about the strong leg that you’re certain is flexing against your skin.

Think about the movie.

Movie. The romantic movie that you’re about to watch while practically sitting on your crush’s lap. His legs felt just as muscular as they looked-

“H-hey… Choji?” You try to break the silence as he clicks at the remote.

“What’s up?”

“I can get plates for us while you set up. Where did you put the takeout?”

“Hmm? Takeout? Ah! That’s right. Hehe…. I completely forgot about that.” He laughs.

“Eh? You forgot?”

“Mhm!” Choji nods before jumping to his feet, unknowingly saving you from your misery as he frees some space for you and Togame.

But he doesn’t move.

He keeps his leg flush against your own, and you decide to chalk this up to him not realizing there’s space now. Not that you even have a problem being this close to him in the first place.

“Um… how about this? I go get us some yummy food, and you two watch this boring romance! When I’m back, we can watch the second movie.”

“Sounds good!” He nods to himself before taking off.

“Ah…wait, Choji..”

The room falls silent as soon as the door closes immediately after, leaving you two alone once again. Your thigh is still on top of his own, and you squirm a bit. “Um…”

Y’know… I’m sorry about your sweats, Jo.”

His eyebrows raise.

“I feel bad about them. And you… you saw.”

The room falls eerily quiet. You can hear your own heartbeat much more clearly now, and the rush of heat that floods your cheeks only makes you dizzier.

He still doesn’t scoot over. If anything, you think you feel him press his leg up against yours, but you’re too nervous to pay it any mind. “Ah… well…” he rubs the back of his neck before looking at you again, and your breath hitches in your throat.

He looks like he’s about to devour you.

“You’ve always been quite the tease, haven’t you?” He moves out from underneath you, arms coming to cage you underneath him, and you swear a whimper almost slips out. “What if Choji saw?”

He leans down a bit, face hovering just over yours. “Or is it not a big deal to you? See… if you were mine, I’d make sure you were fully taken care of before you even thought about stepping foot from your room.”

“E-eh?” You wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. “W-wait.. I didn’t want Choji to see. I mean, I didn’t want you to see either— you’re not supposed to see me do that kind of stuff...”

“…What kind of stuff?”

You wish you could hide behind your hands, but he’s looming over you and there’s nowhere left to avert your gaze. You swallow thickly before mumbling a quiet “…you know.”

“Use your words.”

“Otherwise…” he leans down onto his elbows, lower body resting above yours and you think you might actually combust from the proximity, “I won’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Y-you saw it, didn’t you?” Your mouth starts running on its own, head dizzy with heat and you’re not sure how to save yourself from this. “The thing on my bed. I know you know. And I know you know it was because of you. I can’t help it, okay? I don’t want to make it all awkward for Choji, so please don’t tell him…”

Your voice drops to a whisper, and if he wasn’t hovering an inch above you, you’re certain he wouldn’t have heard you when you say, “Please don’t tell him that you know I like you.”

It’s the only time he’s ever seen you vulnerable like this.

The hand that gently cups your cheek makes your eyes shyly flutter open, widening ever so slightly when his thumb starts to rub over your skin. When he’s actually close to you like this, he’s even more certain you’re just the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes upon.

It’s hard for him to admire you when you’re always teasing him, but like this— it’s nice. “So…” Togame starts, a low chuckle slipping out when you snap out of your daze. “You owe me for the pants and for keeping your secret now. Just how exactly do you plan on doing that, huh?”

The dopey smile on his face has the heat spreading to the tips of your ears, and you think he’s having fun with your embarrassment. “Um..” you stammer, “I’ll do just about anything. You just have to promise, okay?”

You lean back against the couch, the same way a shy fawn retreats backwards when he leans in closer, his lips so close to your own that you can practically feel them on you. You think you’d really like that, but something inside you forces you to stay still, so you settle on staring at him through nervous eyes instead.

“Anything?” His exhale trails off into a soft laugh. “Don’t say that. You’re really too innocent for your own good.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and a small whimper escapes from your throat when he easily wraps his big arms around your middle, pulling you closer so he can move back to nestle his head against his stomach and peer up at you.

“I’m not!” You start to protest, “I’m not innocent, Jo. You don’t think it’s creepy how I was—”

“Whoa, whoa,” he’s interrupting you, “slow down.”

“Why?”

“How about this…?” His voice drops an octave, and your walls flutter around nothing when you feel his lips brush against the skin of your stomach. “You let me finish what you started, and you can tell me all your thoughts while I help you out.”

“Finish what I started…?”

He gives you a nod before shifting downwards, resting his head on your thigh as he gazes up at you through his lashes. “H-how do you know? That I wasn’t done?”

Togame freezes as soon as the words “I didn’t hear you cum” accidentally slip out of his mouth. He didn’t mean to say that, and the way your mouth parts in surprise is proof that the words actually did leave his mouth too.

“Jo.” His heart skips a beat. “You’ve been eavesdropping? Listening to my sessions?”

You both stare at each other as the realization starts to kick in. The two of you are leveled off once again, him uncovering your secret and outing his own in the process. It all makes sense now, from the way you brush up against him to the way he always flexes his muscles whenever you’re in the same room as him.

“Ah.. sorry, I couldn’t help myself either.” He moves back up to hover over you. “I guess we’re both in the same boat now,” a sheepish chuckle slips from him, “aren’t we?”

His lips are ghosting over yours the next second.

It’s a soft peck at first, but you don’t let him pull away. “You should have told me,” you mumble between kisses, “we could have been here a while ago and I wouldn’t have felt like such a weirdo.”

“Why me? You’re no different.” He slots his lips underneath your ear now, thumb craning your neck to the side to give him better access. “You could have told me, and you wouldn’t be here dripping on my leg, would you? You must be soaked by now.”

He latches onto your neck before you get to protest, voice coming out as a shaky moan when he sucks at the skin through a sharp inhale. With him being this close— you can smell his shampoo he uses. The one from the public baths, isn’t it? Choji mentioned that he always liked to go there.

He smells good. His hair feels soft under your fingers when you grab a fistful of it, pulling him a little closer into you as he lets out a grunt into your neck.

“Gonna yank out all my hair before I’m through with you if you’re pulling this early, you know.”

“S-sorry. I need more right now…”

“I know, I know,” his voice coming out directly against your skin sends a violent shiver down your spine, “I know what you need. Been with you each time, remember? I know you like the back of my hand.”

All you do is nod. You even have your eyes slammed shut. It’s too cute to him- you really trust him that much? You’re not even bothering to look at what he’s doing to you.

“Then hurry….” The neediness from earlier comes flooding back into you, and you shift your hips to rock up against him, “Jo. Please?”

You miss the way his eyes darken at your pleading with the way your head has fallen back against the armrest of the couch, your hands running up and down his back and he swears you might be purposely trying to put an end to his whole thing about being a nice kind of guy. “Fine. There’s no rush— just relax.”

His hands feel big and warm when they run down your waist, and you don’t realize he’s scooted so far back until he starts to pepper kisses along the inside of your thigh, lightly sucking and nipping at the skin, laughing when you press your thigh deeper into his face for more.

“You’ve always been an impatient thing, I guess.” He grunts when he pries your thighs apart, then lifts your shirt until it rests right above your tits. The cold air makes you cover them with your arms, accidentally pushing them up while doing so.

You really have no idea what you’re doing to him— ever. That much he’s already figured out. You tease him and very obviously enjoy doing so, but you actually have no idea what sort of effect you have on him, do you?

His cock is so hard that it’s uncomfortable.

Togame rocks his hips against the couch a bit, something to relieve the ache that’s building up inside him as he drags a finger up and down your folds. You didn’t even put on panties after what happened earlier.

How clueless.

With the way your cunt easily coats his finger in slick, he thinks you would have thought to put something else on, but perhaps that was just the territorial streak inside him talking. Just maybe. Though he hates to admit that the idea of Choji or anyone else seeing you like this leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

Your mouth falls open in a strained moan when he pushes a finger inside, and he angles his hand so he can bury himself down to knuckle. You feel tight, but you’re so wet that your juices already begin to drip into his palm.

“Jo…”

“Sorry. That was a little mean of me,” he chuckles, but he’s just as slow to push a second finger inside after. He can’t help that he wants to take his time with you, watch your cunt closely to see the reactions to each little thing he decides to give you.

“Ah!” You cry out when he curls his fingers, digits pushing against the deepest spots inside you— and it feels unfamiliar. You’ve never been able to touch that deep inside yourself.

It feels so sensitive. “T-there, Jo…can you touch me there again?”

He complies with a nod and a gentle smile. The way he curls his fingers against your walls is slow and deliberate, hard enough to make your thighs tremble but not enough to have your hips jerking or your back arching.

He wants to see you do that later.

For now, he’s content with the noises you’re making for him, soft moans and clenched fists as you try to steady your breathing, your walls now desperately fluttering around his fingers for more stimulation.

Togame decides to be nice and gives you a third finger, and you start to feel a bigger stretch— eyebrows furrowing at the unfamiliar thickness. When was the last time you were with someone?

Definitely not anytime after moving here.

It’s been your vibrator and your fingers since then- no wonder it’s taking you a while to adjust. He seems to know this too from the way he’s slowing fucking his fingers in and out of your cunt, curling them each time they’re buried deep inside you.

“Ah.. Jo— feels good…. your fingers are big—”

He smiles at your breathless babbling, planting a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh as he reaches deeper inside you, fingers curling against you a little harder now— and you gasp. “W-what if Choji comes back soon…?”

His eyebrow furrows a bit. “Don’t worry about that. Don’t needa think about anything right now.” His free hand comes to gently squeeze at your cheek, “So make sure it’s my name that’s coming outta your mouth, yeah?”

You can only nod, the familiar knot tightening in your stomach when he aims for a sensitive spot deep inside you. It never comes this fast. It never comes this intense either. You think you’re feeling a little hot, and you’re flexing so hard that you’re trembling under him.

“J-Jo… I think I’m….”

“I know. You always sound like this when you’re close, don’t you? Let me hear you.”

The tight knot in your stomach snaps in an instant, and you cry out. You cum harder and faster than you have in the entire two months of living here, body reduced to a trembling mess as he fucks you through your high.

You’re clenching so tightly around his fingers that it’s hard for him to pull his fingers back out of you. How were you gonna take him like this? He thinks he’s a little mean for wanting to find out.

You’re practically dripping through the couch now, chest heaving up and down and you’re weakly babbling something about him needing to slow down. Togame thinks a nice type of guy would probably slow down and let you catch your breath, so he does just that.

“No.. no fair,” you weakly grab at his wrist, and his eyes widen. “You’re doing everything, Jo.”

His lips press into a tight line. You’re really too cute for your own good. It takes everything in him to give you a crooked smile in response, big hand rubbing at your head as you huff and pout. “I’m sorry,” he says, “You’re gonna have to let me have my way with you tonight.”

His hands wrap around your ankles, pulling your legs up as you yelp underneath him. “I’ve had my eye on you for so long, you know.” Togame holds your thighs together as you peer around your legs to look up at him.

“I heard you every night. Did you time it so that I’d always hear you? Naughty girl. Sometimes you’re so loud that I worry Choji might hear. What’ll happen then, hmm?”

You don’t see it, but you hear him shift around a bit before his cock slaps against your thighs. “I need it just as bad as you. Been keeping it all to myself…” he hesitates for a moment, “Can I? Let me hear your voice.”

“Y-you wanna fuck my thighs?” is all you can choke out with how dizzy you feel.

His cock twitches and smacks against your skin. You bite back a moan. “You can, Jo. Here—” you hold your legs together, peer up at him through your lashes and he swears he might cum from the sight alone. “Just a bit….” He says, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or trying to restrain himself.

His cock feels thick and hot when he slides it between your thighs, length moving until the tip peeks out, precum quickly coating the inside of your legs. He’s big. That much is obvious. The way you’re shamelessly staring makes his cheeks flush too. “Feels good,” he sighs, slow and steady thrusts gently rocking your body back and forth.

“You don’t need to hold back either…Jo. You can do whatever you want to me.”

That’s all the bribing he needs to eagerly squeeze you against his front, keeping you still as he sets a rougher pace against you, warm friction from each push of his hips making his face contort. He tries to keep his expression neutral, tries to keep his eyes from rolling back despite how good your thighs feel around him.

‘Just for a bit.’ He reminds himself again. Just for a bit. Though it’s something he’s been wanting to do a while now. His eyes flicker down, watching the way your gaze is locked onto his cock, half lidded and needy eyes watching it disappear and reappear between your thighs.

It’s something he’s been dying to do since you started rubbing up on him in those shorts that ride up your ass. He likes how your legs look when you bend over, or when you’re laying on your stomach— sprawled over the couch so casually. He doesn’t think you’ve ever noticed his glances either.

That’s how oblivious you are.

It’s a little mean of him, he thinks. You’re needy, staring at his cock like you want it down your throat and he’s making you watch him fuck your thighs and not your cunt instead. It’s just for a bit, he reminds himself, so it’s okay. He convinces himself. A part of him just wants you to look, commit him and his image of the dick that’ll split you open to memory.

It’s a subtle way to call you his. And despite your usual airheaded behavior, you catch onto this pretty quickly.

“Jo…” you huff, “Give me it. Please? We can do this another time.”

“Ah, fine. Can’t say no when you ask me so cutely, after all.”

His eyes focus on the way his cock slips out from between your legs one last time, burning the image in his mind. He’d definitely have to do this another time. Maybe flip you over and fuck your thighs while you gasp into your pillow, then slip his dick inside you and take you in prone bone. It’d give him a good view of your ass too.

Even better if you peered back at him and spread yourself to let him in deeper. He shakes his head at the thought. Slowly. Slow and steady. That’s how he always was and how he wants to be right now.

He pushes your legs up, lets you rest them on his shoulders and peers down at you. Just feeling you press up against him never gave him an accurate vision of just how big he was compared to you. His cock slaps against your stomach, resting on your skin and he gets a good look at how deep he’ll reach when he finally bottoms out inside you. Your eyes follow his own, body tensing at the weight, and you can only imagine how he’ll feel when he finally stuffs you full.

“Jo,” you place a hand on his abs, “y-you’ll go slow, right?”

He laughs at this. “Relax. Loosen up for me, baby. I won’t hurt you.”

You shift a couple inches back, letting him run his tip up and down your cunt, and the noise has your cheeks heating up again. It’s not your fault though. It’s been a while since you last had this— a little nervousness is normal, of course. Togame fights a grimace when he finally starts to push inside, your walls squeezing tightly against his tip and he has to grip the couch on either side of your head to keep his balance.

You feel too good.

Your face contorts when he’s a little rougher, the last few inches pushing deep inside your cunt. “W-wait,” you pant, “It’s—”

Togame drops onto his elbows, quick to capture you in an open mouthed kiss as he stays buried inside you, fingers digging deeper into the couch when he feels your walls pulsating around his cock. Stay patient. Take it easy. He has to repeat the words in his head over and over— chants this in his mind as he tries to focus on how soft your lips feel against his own.

The words disappear into thin air as soon as he feels your arms pulling him closer towards you.

There’s a loud whimper from you when he pulls out, only to bury his entire length back inside a little harder. “There we go,” he grits through clenched teeth, “opening up for me now, aren’t you? Let me in. Just like that.”

You feel so full. He’s so big that your cunt feels empty when he pulls out, and you swear you feel him in your stomach when he bottoms out. He’s deliberately slow, letting you adjust to him— and you can tell it’s hard for him. He’s holding his breath, and each exhale that slips out is labored and heavy. If you told him not to hold back just once, he’d cave on the spot.

“‘S big, Togame…”

“Is that so?” You feel him smile against you. “This slow enough for you?”

“M..Mhm. You can move.” You push your hips against his own, and a breathy groan slips through his lips. “Ah, ah. Don’t tease. It’s hard enough like this..”

You didn’t know it was possible to feel so good. Each slow drag of his cock splits you open, stretches your walls and his tip prods at the spongy spot inside you that makes you yelp. Each thrust is deliberate. There’s intent behind it– he’s trying to find it.

“How’s that?” His voice comes out a little breathless now. “Like that, princess? Been wanting this for so long, shit. Don’t squeeze like that. Don’t. Tease.”

“I can’t help it-” You’re interrupted with a sharp thrust of his hips. It was driving you crazy. Like he was made to be with you. You feel like you’re melting into him, head dizzy with pleasure and it’s so good that you’re going insane. “F-feels good, feels good, feels good..”

“Yeah?” He lets you dig your nails into his back and listens to your babbling. It’ll feel better as soon as he finds his spot. Except… as patient as he is, he wants to find it a little faster.

It’s why he decides to push your hips up beside your head in a mating press.

The scream that you let out confirms it. That’s the spot. He’d make it even better for you.

Your eyes widen as soon as he presses a hand below your stomach. “Feel me? Right there, don’t you? Feel full yet?” He laughs when your hips instinctively buck up against his hand, but he keeps you from moving even an inch. Keeps you perfectly still so that he can aim to pummel the spot that’ll have you gushing over his dick the fastest, and it’s working.

“B…big!” Your eyes are clenching shut at how quickly you approach your second high.

This one feels scarier. It feels more intense.

Your thighs tremble wildly, smacking against his own as your head falls back against the cushions. “Ah….. I’m so close..! Jo— please don’t stop, please. I’m so close.. so close..!” Your eyes slam shut, and you swear your body feels feverish and dizzy from how good he’s fucking you. Togame only pushes your thighs a little harder, big frame towering over yours as he aims to pummel the same spot inside you.

You think you might actually be losing your mind.

“That’s quite the face you’re making for me, angel,” he coos from above you. “You’ll show me the face you make when you cum, right? Don’t be mean. I wanna see.”

It comes faster than ever before. It comes harder than ever too. Your head falls back the next instant, walls clenching as you squirt all over him. It catches him off guard– but he’s quick to resume his pace with a breathy laugh. “Like that. You’ve never sounded like that before. I feel so lucky.” He looks pleased when you finally come down from your high, thighs numb and trembling, and he holds them up for you. “J-Jo… I..”

“Wait….. we’re not done just yet.” He groans when your walls squeeze around him. “Almost..”

Your face is too cute like this. Could you really handle a little more? Your hands are over your eyes, tits bouncing with each slow thrust and it’s enough to bring him right to the edge. You when you’re fucked dumb is something he’d love to see more often.

He’d have to cum inside.

It would be impossible to refuse when your cunt is so greedily begging him for more.

He’s always had endless stamina anyway.

“S-shit, shit…. don’t squeeze so hard,” he clenches his teeth hard as his hips stutter inside you. All it takes it is a couple more frantic thrusts and a ‘Ah—fuck’ under his breath before he’s filling you up, ropes of warm cum coating your walls with thick spurts as he slows down, settling for slow and deep thrusts to reach deeper inside you— fill you to the brim.

He falls onto his elbows with a sharp and shaky inhale, face contorted with pleasure and he thinks he’s feeling a bit dizzy from how tight you’re squeezing him. His eyes widen when you pull him into you, arms circling around his middle as you hold him tight against you. “That’s a lot,” you giggle, “We’re lucky this couch is leather.”

You’ve never seen this side of Togame. He melts into you, soft with the way he nestles his face into the crook of your neck, but the strong arms around you makes you feel safe underneath him. “You’re like a big bear,” you mumble to no one in particular, smiling when he hums at the way your fingers comb through your hair. “So Jo, I was thinkin—”

A muffled thud from outside makes you pause. The two of you flinch at the sound, and Togame’s face changes.

“What?” You lightly pull at his arm, but he doesn’t move. “Why’re you doing that? It’s nothing, right?”

You’ve seen videos of dogs doing just this- stare at the wall with a blank expression. Is that what this was? It sends a shiver down your spine. “Hey…”

He looks at the door with an unreadable expression for a couple more seconds before his attention shifts back to you, big arms wrapping around your frame as you yelp. You cling onto him with a weak protest when he lifts you up to take you to your room. “Jo?!”

He hums in response, and your eyebrow twitches.

“Why’re you taking me to my room? We have to watch a movie later and… I can’t walk back. You jerk.”

“Oh,” his lips part open, and he looks awfully innocent, “you don’t have to worry about it. We’ll probably watch a movie another time.”

You make a noise of confusion, but decide against prying further. Togame, on the other hand, stares at the floor as he heads to your room, no longer able to mask the way his eyes start to darken.

He’s always had a bit of a territorial streak in him, after all. A bad habit.

This, however, is unfamiliar to him. It’ll take time, he thinks, a little time and effort on his part to ease up a bit. He has to remind himself that there’s no reason for him to feel this way, especially not when he knows his friend was there first. He was your friend first. No need to be so possessive.

But he can’t help it.

Outside the apartment door, Choji stands just an inch away, cheek pressed against the door, the bags of food well beyond cold and soggy as they sit on the floor beside him. His cock strains against his jeans, and he hisses under his breath.

“S-shit..”

lace dividers: @adornedwithlight

[gingersxng]

Inappropriate Touching

Pairing: f!reader x Seonghwa x Yunho x Mingi x San

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: walking down the hallways on your new exciting job you came across a group of young handsome actors.. but it soon turns out acting and reality isn’t that far away from each other.

Notes: sub!reader, rough doms! Yunho, Mingi, San, Seonghwa, reader is a virgin, the boys are big perverts!!! ,they have no self control, much inappropriate touching!!!(which is not ok irl), adult movies, pet names (sweetheart, doll, darling, love, kitten, honey), groping, kissing, some cursing, fingering, oral (f receiving), licking, spitting, cum cum cum, cum eating, threesome, foursome, mentions of masturbation, dirty comments, unprotected sex (always be safe),rough sex, public sex, big dick yungi, marking (hickeys, bite marks), breeding, double penetration, slight bulge kink, recording. forgot something? maybe

Words: 3.7k

it was your first day at your new job at the movie studio. it’s been a life long dream of yours to get to work with big movie stars and now you were finally standing outside the big doors. as you looked up at the sign of the big building you took a deep breath before finally heading inside to get started.

you felt like a child in a candy store watching all the pictures on the walls of famous actors and actresses. you were soon greeted by a young woman maybe a few years older than you, she was looking so professional with a black jumpsuit, black glasses and red long hair in a big bun.

“hi are you the new assistant?” she asked softly. “yes i am, I’m y/n” you said as you shaked her hand. “I’m Joanne, I’m gonna show you around a bit to make it a little easier for you” a smile formed on your face. she showed you all different sets from both new and old movies, you had also met many movie stars and staff while you walked around the big halls. you were coming to your final part of your little “tour” when Joanne stopped dragging you to the side.

“we have to be quiet cause they’re in the middle of rehearsals”. she whispered, didn’t sound as she cared to much. you didn’t really understand what kind of movie they were making but there were four men dressed roughly in suits, black ties and some of them had smeared lipstick on their mouths. a woman later appeared around the men and you finally got an answer on your early movie question. you felt yourself blush as you observed what they did to that woman, eyes wide. “c’mon let’s go, I’ll show you your room” she grabbed your arm and dragged you with her. it was kinda quiet down the hallways to your room and so were you. Joanne finally broke the ice. “I probably should give you a small warning but you have to keep this to yourself, okay?” she said with a half worried look on her face. “alright I promise” you suddenly got anxious.

you stopped outside the door to your room. “don’t be too sweet towards those guys back there, they can get a little too friendly if you know what I mean” she whispered so no one but you could hear her. your eyes widened not believing what she was saying, they were just acting.. wasn’t they? “I don’t wanna scare you or anything but it’s better to warn you if you would bump into one of them”. you found yourself speechless and your thoughts went all over the place, first day at your new job and now you should watch out for creeps?

“they didn’t look old tho” you suddenly said. “no, as I saw on your CV they’re two and three years older than you” your eyes widened once again. she was about to say something but were interrupted by footsteps coming your way and by the sound of the voices it was them, well two of them. your heart pumped hard in your chest watching as they came closer.

“looking good today Jo” one of them blurted out giving Joanne a wink. the taller guy got very close to her while a smirk appeared on his face “your ass looks great in this suit too” he said as he gave her ass a squeeze. you literally couldn’t believe what you were witnessing and she just let them do this to her. they were soon turning their attention to you, fuck.

“what do we have here huh?” the tall one said looking you up and down. he was so tall but actually very good looking, you started to blush and that’s just what they wanted you to.. “it’s our new assistant y/n and it’s her first day so keep your hands to yourself Yunho!” Joanne snapped. he guided his hand through his hair and let out a deep chuckle, omg! “nice to meet you y/n” both of them greeted you. you gave them a small smile and crossed your arms so your cleavage got more visible and that was a big mistake. their eyes acted like magnets, getting dragged to your breasts. you knew she’d given you a warning but there was something about them giving you all this attention that made you excited.

“damn looks like a juicy one” the other guy laughed as he eyed his tall friend. Yunho let out a quiet laugh as he looked you straight into your eyes, his smile dropping fast. he took a step closer to you and got interrupted by your friend. “alright, she’s not interested in you two” she said trying to get them to leave. actually you were beginning to get a little bit interested in them but maybe it was best to keep that to yourself. Yunho gave your ass a light slap as he passed you with a smirking grin on his face. the other man reached out his hand brushing it against your stomach and up to your breasts, he stuck his tongue out and gave you a wink. “Seonghwa!! you pervert!” Jo slapped him on the shoulder.

they had finally got out of sight and you could finally let out a deep breath trying to take in everything that happened in the last 10 minutes. “I’m so sorry y/n but this is something you should get used to if you’re gonna work here” she told you looking really pissed off by the boy’s behaviour against you. you couldn’t help but smile a little, “it’s alright”. she finally left you alone and you got into your room to get some rest. it didn’t take many minutes before you were interrupted by a knock on your door, you got up and peeped out trough the little window to see another tall guy standing outside. you opened and were greeted with a smile from the big guy. “hey sweetheart, I’m Mingi” his voice were deep and vibrated right through you. you didn’t get a chance to introduce yourself before he grabbed your arms and pushed you further into your room. his actions took you by surprise and you let out a scream. Mingi hurried to put his hand on your mouth to drown your screams, when you finally got quiet he pulled his hand away letting out a chuckle when he saw the scared expression on your face.

“what are you doing!!” you almost cried out looking up at the big boy. he pushed you down onto your desk and grabbed your chin. “my friends told me about the new sexy assistant and I thought I should see if it was true.. and fuck you are gorgeous” he said squeezing your cheeks. you could feel how your thighs began to push together and how your cheeks started to heat up. Mingi brought his head to your neck starting to place sloppy kisses along it up to your ear, his hands working their way to your ass. you really hoped no one would walk in on you making out with one of the “creeps”, even if this was very wrong you didn’t do anything to stop it.

Mingi slipped his hands inside your pants grabbing a handful of your naked ass. small moans left your mouth, your hands went straight to his hair and he let out a deep groan. “you like this huh?” Mingi whispered as he pulled your jeans off you. “yes” you whispered back. he pushed you down onto your back and separated your legs exposing your clothed core to him, your panties were off you in a flash and your hole were stuffed with two of his fingers. Mingi put his mouth on your clit rolling his tongue over the sensitive nub, your back arched at the new pleasure. “you taste so good” he growled against your clit. he added a third finger and fastened his pace on your clit making a moaning mess out of you.

“here you are!!” Seonghwa bursted into your room, his eyes darkened as soon as he saw the position you were in. you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed having your bare pussy on display in front of the new man. “I see you’ve met the pussy eater” Seonghwa pushed Mingis head down harder on your pussy receiving moans from both of you. Mingi pulled away his slime covered face from your core. “says the guy who puts his hands down women’s tops” Mingi glared at the older man. “I can’t help it” Seonghwa threw a bitter look at him, he walked over to you and slid his hands inside your top and bra grabbing your firm breasts. he looked down at your pleasure filled face, he got closer to your face and attacked your lips kissing you upside down. it was messy and hot and you could feel how you got closer to your release. Seonghwa broke the kiss and squeezed your boobs hard making you squeak. “open your mouth kitten” you did as he said and watched as he gathered some saliva that he spit down into your mouth, you swallowed it and once again he was back kissing you.

Mingi was biting your clit sending electric waves up to your brain. he felt how your pussy clenched around his fingers and he curved them to hit the spongy spot inside you making you see white. your breath hitched in your throat and you moaned into Seonghwas mouth when you came onto Mingis fingers. both of them laughed at you when they saw how fucked out you looked. Mingi licked up all the cum from your hole. “sorry but we have to go back to the set kitten, believe me I’d rather fuck you than that bitch” Seonghwa grunted pushing his face in between your breasts licking a stripe along your cleavage. Mingi stole your panties sneaking them into his pocket and gave your pussy a quick kiss before they left.

- next day -

you had some free time so you were strolling through the building sneaking in to watch some movies in the making. a hand brushed against your ass and you quickly turned around to see yet another new face. the man scanned your body taking you all in, he leaned forward and brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “enjoying yourself kitten?” you gulped and straightened yourself up feeling how your legs began to weaken. “y-yes I do” you fumbled not knowing were to look. an amusing look painted his face when he saw the affect he had on you. he took your hand and brought you with him to their movie set, the grip he had on your hand were firm to keep you from running away if you wanted to.

they were in the middle of a break so they had some time for you. the three other men sat down in a big round sofa that was down in a dark corner, the handsome muscular man pulled you with him. their eyes lit up as soon as you got in their sight, you blushed hard and began to bite the nail on your thumb, it really made you look innocent.

“look who I found standing all alone in the halls” the man pushed you forward so you stood in front of the other three. you could see how they were undressing you with their eyes and by the tents in their pants, they really liked what they saw. Yunho grabbed your wrist and pulled you down on his lap, you shivered at the feeling of his erection poking at your ass. he tugged at your skirt and caressed your soft thighs watching as goosebumps appeared. he put his mouth to your ear and whispered “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday, maybe I could get a pic of that sweet ass if yours huh?”. his words went straight to your pussy, feeling how you got wetter by the second. “why would you want that?” you said innocently looking him in the eyes knowing exactly why he wanted it. Yunho raised an eyebrow and dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass “so I have something to watch as I’m playing with my dick” the guy chuckled. the other guys laughed at his comment. you were stuck between these four men and your mind started to run wild the more they showed how much they wanted to use you.

“do you have a boyfriend doll?” Mingi slipped out. you shook your head and the look on his face turned devilish, you pushed your thighs together more. “are you a virgin?” Yunho asked pulling your skirt up slowly waiting for an answer. you stayed quiet for a few seconds looking around at the men. “yeah, I am” your voice dropped and you felt so embarrassed. something in them snapped and suddenly they seemed hornier than ever. Seonghwa stuck his hand down your top to… dang he got interrupted. you got company by a known friend, it was Jo. she was looking for you and couldn’t believe she would find you here of all places. “what are you doing here y/n?” she was surprised to see you sitting in Yunhos lap with Seonghwas hand down your top. “I’m working..” was the first thing you could think of. Seonghwa fought the urge to pull out your breasts from your top, he usually didn’t have much self control but for your sake he made an exception. “you guys are sick” she said before she finally left.

Seonghwa couldn’t hold it in anymore and pulled out your boobs from your bra, his mouth watered at the sight of your hardened red nipples, he brushed his thumb over them and you let out a small whimper. Yunho lifted you up and handed you over to San, the big man squeezed you against his chest. “don’t move doll, my grip will only get tighter” he bucked his hips up against your ass, his clothed hardness poking you right between your cheeks. Yunho unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants enough for his massive cock to spring free standing up against his stomach. the sight was making your arousal drip down your inner thighs and you crossed your legs standing in Sans embrace. Yunho patted his thigh signaling San to release you. “come sit love” he held a hand out to you. you walked over to the tall man, he turned you around back facing him while pulling up your skirt. the lack of underwear made him groan “no panties huh? what a good girl, all ready for us to abuse” his deep voice almost breaking you.

San slid his fingers through your folds, your arousal was smeared out on your inner thighs and he could slip in two fingers with ease, after feeling how tight you were he pulled them out again turning to the tall guy. “she’s so tight you’re gonna split her in half with your monster cock” Sans words brought a worried look to your face. Yunho slapped your ass “we don’t use condoms btw, hope that’s alright with you love?” you nodded and with that he sunk you down on his big cock, the wetness made it almost too easy for him to bottom out. it was a long moan that left your lips as you felt your pussy being stretched to the max. as Yunho were bouncing you up and down his dick San was attacking your lips and Seonghwa had got dibs on your breasts marking them as his own. it felt like you were in some kind of erotic dream, they dragged out moans and whimpers out of you leaving you a fucking mess.

Mingi had pulled out his cock too, he spat in his hand and pumped his length a few times. he got up from the sofa and pushed the other two out of the way, he pushed your back against Yunhos chest and positioned himself onto you bringing his cock to your already stuffed hole. “it won’t fit idiot” San mocked the man. “I’ll make it fit” Mingi pushed the tip into your pussy making you scream, tears falling down your cheeks. Yunho pulled out a bit for Mingi to fit better, he then dried your tears with his thumb. Yunho and Mingi occupied each side of your neck while they pumped their massive dicks into your gushy hole. “fuck I swear it feels a thousand times better when she’s a virgin” Mingi groaned into your ear. a familiar feeling appeared in your stomach and it got worse with each of their thrusts. Mingi pushed your knees up to your chest getting better and deeper access, the bulge on your stomach drove him crazy. “I’m gonna cum” Yunho warned. “are you gonna let us breed you honey? let us knock you up” he growled as his thrusts got faster. being all over the place you couldn’t get a single word out but you nodded and moaned in response, your mouth hung open.

“knock her up already we’re getting impatient here” Seonghwa whined as he palmed his cock through his pants. a couple more thrusts and both men released their big loads deep inside you, their hair had gotten more messy and they had beads of sweat dripping down their foreheads. the cum were seeping out between their cocks, they pulled out and laid you down onto your back. Yunho pushed the cum back inside your abused pussy, a proud smirk forming on his face. “in a few months we want to see this pretty belly of yours grow darling” Mingi teased you, he took a handful of your little belly fat and squeezed it.

San was quick to swap places with Yunho, impatiently he pulled out his leaking cock and towered over your half naked form. he slid the tip in slowly until he was fully seated pushing both Mingis and Yunhos cum further inside you, his pace quickened fast and his hold onto your sides grew harder. “fuuck, this little pussy of yours is driving me insane” San growled, his feline eyes pierced holes through you. his mouth assaulted your sore nipples while he slammed his hips against yours with all the strength he had. you began to cry and your whole body started to hurt. Seonghwa kissed you harshly and wiped your tears away, he moved down to your neck sucking on the flesh leaving purple marks. “don’t cry honey we’ll take care of you” he purred.

you could feel Sans cock twitch, he buried his dick deep inside you letting his release paint your walls white, he stayed like that for a while not wanting any cum to go to waste. the thought of knocking you up made his brain malfunction. San pushed down his hand on your lower stomach to feel how deep he was, with a groan he finally pulled out.

Seonghwa helped you up and sunk you down on his dick. you swung your arms around his neck and buried your face in it, he helped moving your hips up and down his length since your body started to give out. each time his cock brushed against your cervix you were one step closer to your awaited orgasm. “mmh it feels so good” you whispered softly in his pierced ear. Seonghwa took his time with you and wasn’t as rough as the others, not yet anyway. he stilled his movements, you looked him in the eyes with a questioning look wondering why he stopped. a smirk appeared on his face and he turned his gaze to someone else. a pair of strong arms lifted you up on your wobbly legs and Seonghwa followed. “ready to get double stuffed again kitten?” you heard Sans voice behind you, his breath tingled against your ear and it almost made you cum on the spot. you were now sandwiched between the two men, uplifted in their arms. they both placed their tips to your entrance, it was no problem to slide in their hard cocks from all the cum and your insane amount of arousal, plus you got stretched out good a couple minutes ago by two monster cocks. they synced their thrusts as they slammed up into your sensitive core, your high pitched moans was music to their ears. the knot was building up in your stomach and you were so close now, Sans hand toyed with your swollen clit whilst Seonghwa had his fun with your nipples making your eyes turn white.

Seonghwa kissed your collarbone and cooed “cum for us now love”. San bucked up his hips and groped your ass hard, he left a bite mark on your shoulder making you cry out quietly. a few seconds later your orgasm hit you and your whole body turned to jelly, not long after you felt a hot big wave of cum entering you. deep groans left their filthy mouths as they emptied themselves deep inside you. “good girl” San said huskily as he pulled out.

after they’d both pulled out Mingi gave you your panties back that he stole from you yesterday on his little visit. you gave him a tired smile and put them on you. “I should probably go and get some rest” you said as you put your boobs inside your top again. “need some company?” Mingi asked with a nasty smirk on his face. Yunho slapped the big man on his arm “as tempting as it sounds I actually think we should let her rest for a while, she’ll need it” he smiled at you. they gave you small kisses on your face before you headed back to your room.

“she’s a keeper” Mingi said watching as your ass bounced with every step you took. Yunho groaned and placed himself on the sofa again, he took out his phone and let out a light chuckle. “did you get it all?” San asked. “oh yeah I did”

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | heart breaker

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of the boys falling for a notorious heart breaker

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! content of the boys being down bad for someone they shouldn’t be/isn’t good for them

★ inspired by bubblegum bitch by marina ★

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

★ i’m the girl you’d die for ★

♡ fell in love before he even knew it

♡ down bad horrendously

♡ he’ll do anything for you

♡ he’s heard the rumors before meeting you but chose to ignore them and get to know you

♡ was a blushing mess once you started giving him all your attention

♡ you found his shyness and his ability to get easily flustered charming

♡ he was different to you

♡ you fell for him before you knew it

♡ acted like a couple before you two were official

♡ even after you made it official his feelings never changed

♡ he was completely whipped

♡ he got teased a lot for being so in love

♡ he fell first but you fell harder (and he doesn’t even know it)

♡ in awe by your beauty 24/7

♡ 100% loses himself while admiring you

♡ finds it hard to concentrate around you

♡ has the urge to protect you from the world

♡ after you met him no other guy ever caught your attention again

♡ definitely fought any ex who couldn’t accept you moved on

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

★ hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss ★

♡ he was well aware of your reputation

♡ didn’t let it sway him

♡ didn’t fall in love until you kissed him

♡ he thought you were the sweetest person to exist

♡ couldn’t believe someone as nice as you could ever be known as a “heart-breaker”

♡ friends to lovers

♡ once he got taste of you he wanted more

♡ secretly craved your attention and love

♡ learned that you never purposefully hurt anyone

♡ you got your reputation from men with fragile egos

♡ he was glad he didn’t listen to the rumors

♡ you actually never even had a boyfriend

♡ he was your first love

♡ he defended you against everyone

♡ “you don’t know her”

♡ “you shouldn’t listen to rumors before getting to know someone.”

♡ would get annoyed if anyone tried to get in between you two

♡ you made the first move

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

★ dear diary, i met a boy he made my doll heart light up with joy ★

♡ you fell first

♡ he didn’t know that you had a reputation

♡ something about him made him stick out more

♡ you didn’t want anyone but him

♡ he thought you were beautiful at first sight

♡ was the only boy who could ever make you blush

♡ you dropped the guy who you were originally talking to for him

♡ he made you feel seen

♡ he made your heart flutter with his genuine love

♡ was the first boy who wanted you for you

♡ didn’t rush you into anything like every other guy did

♡ slow burn

♡ you craved attention, he was willing to give you all of his and more

♡ he made you feel comfortable and loved

♡ the slowest paced relationship you had in the best way possible

♡ his love was soft and gentle

♡ you needed someone like him in your life

♡ helped heal your past wounds

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

★ i’ll chew you up and i’ll spit you out ★

♡ he knew you could ruin him

♡ didn’t stop him from wanting you

♡ took the chance of getting hurt anyway

♡ he loved you more than he loved himself

♡ you changed for him (don’t worry you did not break his heart thankfully)

♡ you were moved by how kind and loyal he was towards you

♡ he never judged you

♡ the kindest boy you’ve ever met

♡ you never smiled as much as you did when you were around him

♡ everyone was surprised to see how gentle you’ve become since meeting him

♡ you two communicated very well

♡ he never got mad at you which meant everything to you

♡ handled your emotions with care and respect

♡ never made you feel like you were too much or not enough

♡ he motivated you to become better each day

♡ you never want to hurt him

♡ you ended up falling for him harder in the long run

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

★ pull me closer and kiss me hard ★

♡ he was determined to make you fall for him

♡ thought you were the most beautiful person on the planet

♡ knew you just had bad experiences

♡ didn’t trust the rumors because most guys you dated weren’t great guys

♡ he wanted to be utterly consumed by you

♡ his love was strong and gentle, almost consuming but not suffocating

♡ once he had you, he wouldn’t let you go

♡ made it a point to let everyone know you were his

♡ proud to call you his

♡ never ashamed of you

♡ he never wanted to remember what it was like to be without you

♡ easily became your safe space

♡ his presence made you feel free

♡ never brought up your reputation or past relationships

♡ he didn’t care about the past, he only cares about the future you two have

♡ wouldn’t be afraid to tell an ex to get over it

♡ “shoulda realized what you had before, not my problem”

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

★ don’t care if you think i’m dumb, i don’t care at all ★

♡ he loved your confidence

♡ others couldn’t keep up with you in relationships, they’d become too insecure with the amount of attraction you have

♡ thought everyone else was dumb for judging you

♡ he wanted you even if others thought he was dumb for liking you

♡ you two matched each other’s energy perfectly

♡ a match made in heaven/hell (your pick tbh)

♡ he wanted to show you off

♡ was proud he had such a pretty thing that he could call his

♡ isn’t afraid to check someone

♡ would never hold you back

♡ never made you feel like you were doing too much

♡ he wanted you to be as free as possible

♡ never questioned your past relationships, unless an ex came back into your life

♡ would 100% beat up your ex if needed

♡ expect constant laughter and smiles whenever you two were near each other

♡ he definitely made you happiest you’ve ever been

♡ if there was ever a moment you felt down about yourself he’d be there to pick you right up

a/n <3 : i might write a part 2 to this ? maybe with some angst and the scenario of a break up happening??? idkkk lmk, i hate writing sad stuff </3 but it’s speaking to meeee!!! ill prolly tone it down 100% if it happens, send help

[ktownshizzle]

A Christmas Encore | Preview

Part of A Holly, Jolly Holiday with Min Yun-Kay collab with @yooglefics

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: You never thought you’d see Min Yoongi again, not in this lifetime, not in this place. He left years ago with big dreams and bigger talent, trading snow-covered Seollim Hollow for the city lights of Seoul. But now, with the cultural center—the heart of your hometown—on the verge of being sold to a soulless corporation, you’ll do anything to save it.

When Yoongi appears on your doorstep, it feels like a miracle wrapped in regret. But as the two of you work together to save the center, old promises resurface, along with feelings you thought you’d left behind. Can you trust someone who was never meant to stay? Or will you just get hurt again?

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Childhood Friends to Kinda Lovers to Kinda Strangers to Friends to Lovers (WHAT?! Yeah I got dizzy too) Second chances basically, Fluff, Smut, Mild Angst, Very Hallmark

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting Date: Surprise drop this Dec 2024

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Hello ho ho. We are back with another Ginger Yoongi fic, because I lub him 🧡

Taglist is open. Sign up for the Permanent Taglist here to be tagged in all of my future stories. Or just leave a comment to get tagged when this story drops.

Silence falls over the group. They’re looking at you, waiting for a solution you don’t have yet. You force a smile and say, “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”

The meeting wraps up, and the others file out, leaving you alone in your office. You sit at your desk, scribbling a to-do list, chewing on the end of your pen. You’ve made a promise, but the cracks in it are already starting to show.

You hear the shuffle of footsteps outside your office and freeze. It’s late. Too late for anyone to still be here. Shit.

Your pulse kicks up as you glance at the coat rack in the corner, grabbing the old baseball bat you keep propped against it. You stand, holding the bat tightly in both hands as you approach the door.

“Hello?” you call out, trying to sound calm but firm.

The figure standing in the doorway doesn’t move. They’re tall, dressed in a black coat, with a ball cap pulled low over their face. Your heart races. An intruder? Someone sent by the corporation to intimidate you?

“I’m calling the police,” you say sharply, raising the bat a little higher.

The figure finally shifts, lifting their hands slightly in surrender. “Relax,” they say, their voice low and familiar. Too familiar.

You freeze. That voice is impossible to mistake.

The man reaches up and tips his cap back, revealing a face that stops you in your tracks. Min Yoongi.

Your mind scrambles to catch up. It’s him. But not exactly how you remember. His eyes are even sharper, his jawline more defined. Tufts of bright hair peaks from his cap. He’s wrapped in a black coat that fits him perfectly, the snow-dusted collar somehow making him look like he’s stepped out of a winter drama.

“What…” Your grip loosens on the bat, and it clatters to the floor. “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s mouth quirks into the faintest smile, the same one you’ve seen in every polaroid and Christmas card he’s sent over the years. “Hi,” he says simply, as if he hasn’t just materialized in your life after years of absence.

You stare at him, your thoughts a snowstorm. He looks good—too fuckin’ good, if you’re being honest. But he doesn’t belong here, standing in the doorway of your tiny office like he’s just another guy in town.

And yet, here he is.

Permanent taglist:

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm

Story-requested taglist:

@kingofbodyrolls @jajabro

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ━━ Ski Trip

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 4.8K

❀ ━ warnings: i don’t think any actually

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: i lowkey hate this chapter and i feel like i didn’t make it meaningful enough but im not rewriting it so here yall go BIG STUFF COMING NEXT CHAP THO

IT’S DECEMBER 20TH, and Paige has been procrastinating on packing all day, though she’s hyper-aware of her flight to Maryland tomorrow evening after their game. The plan was simple. She’d spend Christmas with her dad and Drew like she always did when her mom’s side of the family had something else going on. This year, it was a beach trip to the Bahamas—Ryan and Lauren had begged for it after they didn’t get a summer vacation, and even though her mom had hated the idea of leaving Paige out, she’d caved.

“It’s just this one year,” her mom had told her over the phone a couple of weeks ago, sounding guilty. “Next year, we’ll all do something together, I promise.”

Paige had told her it was fine, and it had been. It wasn’t like her mom had planned it that way, and besides, Paige had been looking forward to some quality time with her dad and Drew.

But now, as she sits at the small table in her and Jo’s apartment, her phone pressed to her ear, that plan is crumbling right in front of her.

Her dad coughs—again—and Paige frowns at the sound of it. “I’m telling you, P, it’s bad,” he says, his voice raspy and hoarse. “It’s not like Drew and I have a cold, it’s bronchitis. We’re super contagious, and the last thing I want is for you to get sick, too. You’d bring it back to the team, and…” He trails off, but Paige knows exactly what he’s thinking.

If she brought bronchitis back to Storrs, it would be a disaster. Paige knows how quickly that would spread through them, because they’re always around each other. One sick player turns into three, and suddenly half the roster is on the bench. Which would be bad—because half their roster already is on the bench.

Still, it doesn’t make her feel any better. She swallows the lump forming in her throat and forces her voice to sound steady, even though the frustration is bubbling underneath. “I get it, Dad. It’s just…” She sighs, rubbing a hand across her face. “It’s Christmas. I wanted to see you guys.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” her dad says, and he really does sound it. “If there was any way to make it work, I’d tell you to come, but I can’t let you risk it. You’re not just my kid—you’re, like, a national treasure. Even with a busted knee. You’ve got bigger things to worry about than hanging out with your sick old man and your germy little brother.” He tries to laugh, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit.

When it finally passes, he speaks again, softer this time. “Look, I hate this. You know I do. But maybe it’s better this way. You don’t want to get sick, and I don’t want you here with me and Drew, bored out of your mind while we sit around coughing our lungs out. You should spend Christmas somewhere fun. I’m sure at least one of the girls will still be around campus, right?”

Paige doesn’t have the heart to tell him that everyone is going home for the holidays. Azzi’s flight to Virginia is tomorrow, and Caroline’s driving back to Massachusetts the next day. Ice is already gone, Geno allowing it since she can’t even play in tomorrow’s game. And it’s not like Paige can crash at the homes of her coaches or staff, either. She’ll be here. Alone.

“Yeah, maybe,” she lies instead. “Don’t worry about me, ’kay Just take care of yourself and Drew. I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

Her dad sighs, and for a second time, the line goes quiet. “I’m sorry, P,” he says again, and there’s a tiredness in his voice that makes her feel guilty for even being upset. “We’ll FaceTime you on Christmas morning. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she mumbles. “Tell Drew I said hi. And Merry Christmas.”

“I will.”

She barely gets out a goodbye before hanging up, and the moment the call disconnects, Paige puts her head in her hands, elbows resting on the table.

It’s not like she doesn’t understand. Her dad is right—going to Maryland would be a bad idea. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier. She’s supposed to be with her family for Christmas.

But now? She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do. It’s not like she can book a flight to the Bahamas to be with her mom’s family.

So what does that leave? Staying on campus by herself? Wandering around Storrs in the freezing cold while the rest of her teammates celebrate with their families?

The thought puts a pit in her stomach, and she presses her palms harder against her face, as if that’ll somehow stop the wave of sadness crashing against her. She knows it’s not the end of the world—she’s an adult; she’ll survive—but it’s been a hard year, and she wanted to end it with her family beside her.

Suddenly, pair of warm and familiar arms drape loosely around Paige’s neck, startling her. She exhales sharply, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. She can feel Jo’s chin resting lightly on her shoulder, her breath warm against Paige’s cheek. Jo doesn’t seem to notice the way Paige tenses under her touch or how Paige’s stomach twists itself into knots.

“What’s up? Why’re you all sad?” Jo asks, her voice soft but still edged with that usual playful lilt that makes it hard to tell if she’s being entirely serious.

Paige swallows hard and keeps her gaze forward. Her fingers drum nervously against the table. “My dad and Drew are sick, so they’re not letting me come home,” she admits quietly, her voice tighter than she means for it to be. “I’mma be here all alone for Christmas.”

Jo pulls away abruptly, and Paige instantly misses the warmth of her arms. When she looks up, Jo’s eyes are searching hers, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “Wait, you’re not going to Maryland?” Jo asks, like she hasn’t just heard Paige say it.

Paige shakes her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “Nope,” she confirms, a little bitterly, popping the p.

Jo stares at her, unblinking, like she’s trying to solve a puzzle in her head. Then something shifts in her expression, and Paige can see it—the exact moment Jo’s brain kicks into overdrive. A slow grin spreads across Jo’s face, and her eyes brighten like she’s just come up with the best idea in the world. Paige feels herself get curios, because she knows Jo well enough to know that this particular look means she’s about to be dragged into something.

“Wait, no,” Jo says, her voice rising in excitement as she straightens up. “It’s fine. You’re not gonna be here alone.”

Paige frowns, confused. “What?”

But Jo’s practically bouncing on the balls of her feet now, her excitement infectious even though Paige has no idea what she’s getting at. “Oh my god, wait! This is perfect. Peyton’s fiancée is sick, too, so he’s not coming on our ski trip like he was supposed to. Come with my family! It’ll be fun! We can snowboard together!”

Paige blinks, her mind spinning as she tries to process what Jo just said. A ski trip? With Jo’s family? The idea sounds… nice, but also terrifying. Sure, she’s met most of Jo’s family before, but that was before she realized she was completely, helplessly in love with her. Being around them now, with Jo acting all warm and familiar, feels like it might be too much.

“Jo,” Paige says slowly, trying to let the younger girl down gently. “I can’t. I don’t wanna intrude—”

Jo cuts her off with an exaggerated deadpan look. “I love you.”

The words hit Paige like a punch to the chest. Her brain freezes for a split second, and she knows she’s staring at Jo like an idiot. Of course, Jo doesn’t mean it like that—she never does—but it doesn’t stop Paige’s heart from stuttering in her chest.

“So my family loves you, too,” Jo continues like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’ll be fun. You’re not intruding on anybody. Besides, if you wanna feel all guilty about it, then you can pay me back by driving us up there so I don’t have to.”

Paige narrows her eyes at that. “Wait. You were gonna drive up there?”

Jo shrugs casually, as if her driving isn’t an actual safety hazard. “Yeah.”

Paige groans, dragging a hand down her face. “God, now I have to go,” she mutters, half to herself. Jo tilts her head in confusion, so Paige adds, “I can’t let you drive all the way up there. You’re, like, the worst driver I’ve ever met.”

Jo gasps in mock offense, clutching her chest dramatically. “Wow. First of all, rude. Second of all, I’ve only almost killed us, like, twice.”

“Three times,” Paige corrects, unable to stop the small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Whatever,” Jo says, waving her hand dismissively. “Point is, you’re coming, and we’re gonna have the best time ever. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Paige sighs, knowing she’s already lost this battle. The truth is, the idea of spending Christmas with Jo doesn’t sound bad at all. In fact, it sounds kind of amazing, even if the thought of being around her family makes her a little nervous. “Okay,” she says reluctantly, pretending to sound annoyed even though she’s not.

Jo grins triumphantly before squealing, planting a quick, friendly kiss on Paige’s temple.

Paige tries to ignore the way her heart skyrockets at that. This ski trip might be the death of her.

JO STRETCHES her legs out as much as she can in the passenger seat, knees knocking lightly against the glove compartment. Her fingers drum idly against the screen of her phone as she scrolls through her playlists, searching. It’s the 22nd, and they’re only about a half-hour into the three-hour trip to the ski resort in New York where she’ll spend Christmas with her family—and, now, with Paige too.

Paige is driving, looking entirely too focused on the road. Jo leans over just slightly, flipping through songs before finally landing on what feels like the obvious choice: Harry Styles. The opening notes of Golden start to play through the speakers, and Jo immediately starts singing along, drumming the rhythm against her thighs.

Paige groans from the driver’s seat, her tone exasperated. “Nooooo,” she complains like a child, scrunching her face at the sound of the music.

Jo rolls her eyes and lightly swats Paige’s arm. “Don’t disrespect him!” she scolds. “That’s my man.”

Paige glances over at her with one of those fond, half-annoyed smiles Jo’s grown so used to over the years. She rolls her eyes again, but at least she doesn’t change the song. Jo smirks to herself, victorious, as she turns up the volume a little.

The snow-covered scenery passes by in a blur, the outside world feeling far away and muted. It’s just her and Paige now, and Jo finds herself relaxing more and more as the car hums along the quiet highway. Eventually, Paige seems to stop pretending she hates the music. She starts humming softly under her breath—off-key, of course, but Jo thinks it’s charming.

As the minutes tick by, the conversation between them slows, and the silence stretches. But it’s not awkward—it rarely ever is with Paige. Jo lets herself sink into it, leaning her head against the window and watching the world go by. Snow blankets the ground and clings to the branches of trees, glittering under the pale sunlight. It’s all so pretty, and Jo feels a swell of contentment in her chest.

She’s excited about this trip, and not just because she loves Christmas or snowboarding or even the cozy cabin her family rents almost every year. No, this year is different. This year, Paige is coming, and that thought alone makes her feel like a kid on Christmas morning. Jo can’t quite explain it, but something about the idea of spending the holiday with Paige—and all of her favorite people at once—fills her with an almost overwhelming kind of joy.

She loves Paige. The words flash in her head so casually that it takes her a second to realize what she’s just thought. Jo blinks, staring out at the endless stretch of snow-covered ground, and suddenly feels… weird. Not in a bad way. Just weird.

It’s not like she hasn’t thought—or said—those words before. She’s told Paige she loves her plenty of times, always with that same casual confidence that comes with a close friendship. But for some reason, the words feel different now, like they’re tugging at something deeper inside her, a part of her brain she hadn’t noticed before. She frowns slightly, her breath fogging the window as she shifts in her seat.

Curious, almost cautious, Jo glances over at Paige. Paige looks good. The thought slips into Jo’s mind unbidden. Her gaze lingers—too long, maybe—on Paige’s profile. Her slicked-back bun reveals her sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones, and her skin glows softly under the light reflecting off the snow. Her blue eyes—they look so blue right now—stay locked on the road, narrowed ever so slightly in focus. Even her hands, gripping the steering wheel with casual ease, look… nice? The rings on her fingers catch the light, glinting softly, and Jo feels her stomach do this weird, fluttery thing she can’t quite explain.

Jesus, she doesn’t know what’s wrong with her right now.

She’s staring, she knows she’s staring, but she can’t seem to stop herself. Paige shifts slightly in her seat, and Jo’s eyes dart back to the window like she’s been caught red-handed.

“Enjoying the view?” Paige’s voice cuts through Jo’s thoughts, low and teasing, and Jo jerks her head back around.

Paige is smirking at her now, one brow raised as she steals a glance her way before refocusing on the road. Jo’s face flushes, heat prickling at the back of her neck, and she scrambles for something to say.

“Shut up,” Jo mutters instead, weakly, before lightly swatting Paige’s arm again. Paige just laughs, the sound low and easy and too pretty for Jo’s liking.

Jo turns back to the window, trying to ignore the way her heart is racing in her chest. She shouldn’t feel this weird. This is Paige. She’s never felt strange like this around her before. So why is it happening now?

Her reflection stares back at her in the window, her expression unreadable. She doesn’t have an answer, but the question lingers in her mind, gnawing at her as the scenery blurs by.

THE CAR creaks to a stop, tires crunching on the gravel driveway, and Paige cuts the engine. Her hands rest on the steering wheel for a second too long as she stares at the cabin in front of them. It’s huge, with rustic wooden beams and wide windows that glint in the soft afternoon sunlight. Against the backdrop of snow-covered trees and a looming mountain, the place looks like something out of a Hallmark movie.

Not for the first time, Paige wonders just how much money Jo’s family actually has. She exhales softly, glancing over at Jo, who’s already unbuckling her seatbelt and muttering something about how cold it looks outside.

“Ready?” Jo asks, grinning as she swings the passenger door open. She doesn’t wait for Paige to answer before stepping out, boots crunching in the snow.

Paige follows, shivering as the cold air hits her. They make their way to the trunk, pulling out their luggage and the carefully wrapped presents. Paige grabs her suitcase and Jo’s backpack, while Jo hefts a duffel bag and a stack of gifts precariously balanced in her arms.

As they start up the snow-dusted path to the cabin, Paige feels a knot of nerves twist low in her stomach. She’s been around Jo’s family before—met her parents briefly, spent an afternoon with her little sister Mia—but this is different. A whole four days with them, at Christmas no less, feels more a lot closer. It makes her jittery.

The knot tightens as they get closer to the door. Paige’s boots crunch loudly in the quiet, the sound almost distracting enough to drown out her thoughts. Almost. She glances at Jo, who seems completely at ease, her face lighting up as she takes in the cabin and the familiar setting. Jo doesn’t seem nervous at all. There’s no reason for her to be, really. Paige wishes she could say the same.

Before they even reach the porch, the front door bursts open.

“Mia—” comes a faint voice from inside, but it’s already too late.

Jo’s little sister Mia comes charging out of the cabin, her boots slipping slightly on the snow but her momentum unstoppable. “You guys took so long!” she yells, her voice high and dramatic in the way Paige remembers. “We thought you got into a car accident and died!”

Jo snorts, her face splitting into a grin. “That was your theory?” she asks incredulously.

“It’s not a theory, it’s a possibility!” Mia shouts back, skidding to a stop in front of them. She looks up at Paige, her wide brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hi, Paige,” she says, her tone immediately softening into something warmer. “Do you remember me?”

Paige crouches slightly, balancing Jo’s backpack on her knee as she smiles at Mia. “Of course I remember you, Mimi,” she says. “How could I forget?”

Mia beams, and Paige can’t help but smile back. She liked Mia the first time she met her, and apparently the feeling was mutual, because Mia immediately latches onto her hand like they’re best friends. Jo groans beside her.

“You’re not allowed to replace me with Paige,” Jo says, her voice dry. “I’m your sister, remember?”

Mia rolls her eyes, an action so similar to Jo’s that it makes Paige laugh. Before Jo can retaliate, another voice cuts through the chilly air.

“Mia, you are such a menace,” says a woman stepping out onto the porch, pulling a jacket on. She’s tall and thin, with sleek dark hair pulled into a ponytail. Paige recognizes her immediately—Peyton, Jo’s older sister. The one who dances in New York.

Mia gives Peyton a look, saying, “No, you.”

Peyton doesn’t respond, crossing her arms and leaning casually against the porch railing. She smiles at Jo, saying, “Hey, Joey,” before her eyes land on Paige. She nods toward her, her smirk softening into something friendlier. “Hi, Paige. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Paige’s stomach flips slightly at the wording. “Nothing bad, I hope,” she says, sending Jo a look before turning back to Peyton. “Nice to meet you.”

Peyton raises an eyebrow, glancing at Jo like she’s amused by something. Jo pointedly ignores her, busying herself with readjusting the presents in her arms. Before Paige can think too much about it, Jo’s parents appear in the doorway, their voices warm and welcoming as they call out greetings.

The knot in Paige’s stomach starts to loosen as Jo’s mom pulls her into a quick, affectionate hug, and her dad shakes her hand firmly. They’re warm, easygoing, and clearly thrilled to have her here. It’s overwhelming in the best way, and by the time they’re all inside the cabin, surrounded by the crackle of a fire and the smell of something delicious cooking in the kitchen, Paige feels the last of her nerves melt away.

She might have been nervous about intruding, but now, as Jo’s family laughs and chatters around her, Paige thinks this is exactly what Christmas is supposed to feel like.

IT’S LATE, and the house is quiet now. Jo likes it—the silent hum of her family settling into their rooms, the muffled crackle of the fireplace in the living room below. But mostly, she likes the way it feels to be here, with Paige.

The bathroom is small and warm, steam still lingering in the air from earlier showers. Jo leans over the counter, squeezing a dollop of black face mask onto her fingers. Paige mirrors her on the other side of the sink, her blonde hair still pulled back in its bun, loose strands framing her face. Jo’s been hyper-aware of her all day. It’s not like anything new has even happened, so she doesn’t know why things suddenly feel different. But it does. It’s like everything Paige does—the way she laughs, the way her blue eyes catch the light, the way her fingers brushed Jo’s earlier while stealing a cookie from the baking tray—feels sharper, louder, harder to ignore. Almost like a switch has been turned on in Jo’s head.

“Okay, hold still,” Jo says, stepping closer. Paige tilts her head downward slightly, her blue eyes locking on Jo’s, and Jo tries not to notice how close they are. She smears a stripe of the black mask across Paige’s cheekbone, biting back a grin when Paige wrinkles her nose.

“You’re being so aggressive about it,” Paige says, her voice teasing. She dips her fingers into her own little bowl of the mask and smears a line down Jo’s nose in retaliation.

Jo huffs, rolling her eyes even as her lips twitch into a grin. She swipes another streak across Paige’s forehead, her fingers lingering against her skin. It’s such a small, fleeting thing, but it feels like electricity sparking up Jo’s arm. She pulls her hand back quickly, hoping Paige doesn’t notice how her breath catches.

Paige’s lips quirk, but she doesn’t say anything. She just smears another bit of the mask across Jo’s jaw, her hand steady and confident like she always is. “You’re a terrible client,” Paige mutters, her voice dry but soft, her blue eyes flicking briefly to Jo’s. And Jo, again, feels that strange, sharp awareness settle over her. She doesn’t get it. This isn’t new. It’s not like she hasn’t been this close to Paige before—hell, she and Paige cuddle in the same bed nearly every night.

But today, it’s like her brain has decided that Paige is a little too much. Too pretty. Too funny. Too… Paige. Jo doesn’t know what to do with it, so she keeps quiet, keeps working on the mask, hoping the feeling will pass. It doesn’t.

She steps back slightly, assessing her work, and Paige tilts her head again, clearly trying to get a good look at herself in the mirror behind Jo. Her smile is gummy, and Jo’s chest squeezes in a way that feels alarmingly foreign. It’s fine. This is fine.

“You look kinda funny,” Paige tells her.

Jo rolls her eyes. “No, you look funny.”

“You both look funny,” a new voice says.

Jo looks toward the bathroom door and nearly groans out loud. Mia is standing there, leaning against the frame with her hands on her hips. Her hair is braided, and she’s wearing pink pajamas with unicorns on them. Jo loves her sister, but Mia has the uncanny ability to show up at the exact wrong time. Every time.

Jo watches as Paige grins at Mia, her eyes sparkling under the harsh bathroom lights. Paige’s hand reaches out, steady and sure, wrapping easily around Mia’s small wrist as she pulls her closer. “Come look funny with us,” Paige says, her voice teasing but warm, and somehow, Mia lets her. Mia—who has never warmed up to anyone outside of their family as quickly as she has with Paige—lets her.

Jo leans against the sink, arms crossed over her chest, observing the way Paige lifts Mia effortlessly onto the counter. It shouldn’t be surprising by now—Paige’s knack for fitting in, for making herself comfortable in any room, any space. But it is surprising. Jo doesn’t understand how Paige has done it, how she’s managed to turn Mia into a giggling puddle of affection when Jo can barely get her little sister to listen most days.

It shouldn’t bug her. It shouldn’t make her chest ache the way it does, seeing Paige there, standing so close to her family, fitting into the picture like she belongs in it. Like she’s been in it all along. Jo feels something twist in her stomach as Paige dips her fingers into the little bowl of face mask and dabs some of the black paste onto Mia’s nose, grinning when Mia squeals. It’s like watching someone carve their name into a tree that’s already been there for years. Permanent. Unshakable.

Jo’s heart stutters, and she doesn’t know why.

“Okay, okay, hold still,” Paige says, laughing as Mia squirms. Jo’s still leaning against the counter, arms crossed a little too tight against her chest, trying to ignore how soft Paige’s voice is, how easy she makes it look—being good with kids, being good with Mia.

Paige looks over her shoulder at Jo and grins. “You gonna stand there the whole time, or are you gonna help me?”

Jo doesn’t trust herself to say anything, not with the way her throat feels tight all of a sudden. She pushes off the counter and grabs the bowl from Paige’s hand, stepping closer. The three of them are a little crowded now, Paige and Jo standing shoulder to shoulder, Mia giggling in the middle of it all. Jo’s hyper-aware of how Paige’s arm brushes against hers every time she moves, how Paige’s perfume—subtle and familiar—lingers in the small space between them.

Jo focuses on the task, smearing the face mask carefully across Mia’s cheeks. “Stay still, Mimi,” she mutters, but her voice is softer than usual, her irritation dulled. Mia grins at her, like she knows Jo can’t ever stay mad at her for long. Paige snickers next to her, and Jo doesn’t need to look to know there’s a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Aight, done,” Paige says, stepping back slightly to admire their work. Mia beams at her reflection in the mirror, her face covered in streaky black paste. Jo sets the bowl down, already turning back to the sink, when she catches it—the look Paige and Mia share. Mischievous. Almost conspiratorial.

“Don’t,” Jo says, narrowing her eyes at them, but it’s too late. Mia’s already scooping some of the mask onto her tiny fingers, and Paige follows suit, dipping her own hand back into the bowl. Before Jo can move, they both strike.

“Guys!” Jo exclaims as they swipe the cold, sticky paste across her lips, their laughter echoing off the tiled walls. She wipes at her mouth furiously, glaring at them both. “It’s not supposed to go on the lips!”

“Sorry, Joey,” Mia giggles, and Jo groans at the sound of it. She hates when Mia calls her that, hates when most of her family does. Though, she has to admit, it is better than JoJo.

But then Paige says it. “Yeah, sorry, Joey,” Paige echoes, her tone dripping with mock sincerity, her lips curled into a grin. And it’s different. It hits Jo differently, like a warm gust of wind cutting through the chill. The way Paige says hasn’t ever made her cringe. It’s never annoyed her. Instead, it makes her heart trip over itself, stumbling into something that feels suspiciously like want.

Jo stills, her hand still pressed against her lips, her brain suddenly moving too fast and too slow at the same time. Paige’s grin softens slightly as she steps back, wiping her own fingers clean on a towel, completely oblivious to the way Jo’s entire world is starting to tilt off its axis.

Jo can’t stop the thought that rises, unbidden and unwelcome. I like the way she says my name.

And then, like a sudden slap to the face, the truth hits her. It doesn’t creep in. It doesn’t build slowly. It slams into her all at once, leaving no room for doubt or denial.

She likes Paige.

Her chest tightens, and she almost feels like she can’t breathe. Oh my God. She likes Paige. Not just as a friend. Not just as her teammate or her roommate. She likes her in a way she never, ever thought she would.

It’s the kind of realization that knocks everything out of focus, that makes her head spin. Because this isn’t just some fleeting, surface-level thing. It’s not a crush she can shrug off. It’s Paige. And it feels like the ground under her feet has cracked wide open.

It doesn’t make any sense to her. She’s always thought she’s straight. She’s never even entertained the idea of liking girls. She always had Asher, and even though they’re broken up now, that wound is still fresh.

But the realization is there, and it’s as real as anything else. She likes Paige.

Jo glances at Paige out of the corner of her eye, half hoping that maybe she’ll catch on, that she’ll notice something’s wrong and say something stupid or reassuring or Paige-like. But Paige is just there, wiping Mia’s hands with a towel, laughing softly at whatever Mia just said, completely unaware that Jo is facing one of the most startling realizations of her life.

And Jo? Jo is completely, utterly fucked.

[mrsfancyferrari]

We're Saved

Summary: You are the first woman to be racing in Formula 1 and you and Max are already best friends. To Jos' dismay. PT 3

Song: Let The Light In - Lana Del Ray

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4

Author’s note: CW: sexist comments, domestic violence (not from Max). I'm still salty about Daniel Ricciardo's exit to Formula 1 so I decided to add him a little here. Unfortunately this will not be the finale! The FINALE is officially in part 4! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Taglist: @ahhhhhm, @daniskywalkersolo, @friendshipis-magic, @tellybearryyyy, @lanadelray1989, @owl778, @almostuniversallyface, @maluzets55, @dying-inside-but-its-classy, @noooway555, @unknownmystery22, @forensicheart, @a-beaverhausen, @moonstruck-poet, @mendes-bae.

Word count: 27.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

"I’m innocent! I was cheated on by Y/N with Max Verstappen! She left me for this other guy. It’s all her fault. She slept with him when we were dating! I'm innocent! Please!" His voice, frayed with desperation, sends shockwaves through your system.

You feel your heart racing, an uneven rhythm that reverberates in your chest, drowning out the echoes of the world around you. The bowl of popcorn slips from your fingers, scattering pieces across the living room floor.

You blink rapidly, the words blaring from the TV like a siren wailing through the night. Jake stands there, disheveled yet defiant, claiming innocence while slandering your name.

“Y/N, calm down, breathe,” Christian implores, his own voice laced with worry as he pauses the TV. He steps in front of the screen, blocking your view of Jake’s dramatic claims.

The concern in his eyes cuts through the fog of anxiety descending over you. “It’s okay. It’s just Jake. You know he’s lying.”

You shake your head, the reality of his words spinning through your mind like a tornado. “But, how can he just say that? People will believe him!”

“Hey,” he takes a step closer, his presence a steady anchor against the rising tide of panic. “Listen to me. You know the truth. You didn’t cheat on him. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just him trying to save face.”

“But what if they don’t see it that way? What if they think I really did—”

“They won’t,” Christian interrupts softly, his eyebrows knitting in concern. “You’re not going to let some headlines dictate your worth, are you?”

Taking a deep breath, you fight against the tide of emotions crashing over you. It wasn’t just Jake’s words that hurt; it was the betrayal, the way he twisted your love story into something ugly.

“I just don’t understand,” you finally whisper, feeling the weight of the world pressing heavily on your shoulders. “Why would he say something like that?”

“Because he’s angry and scared,” Christian replies. “He’s lashing out because he knows he messed up. But you’re stronger than this, Y/N. You didn’t cheat. You ended a toxic relationship. We both know that.”

The flicker of hope ignites momentarily within you, but it quickly dims as that familiar pang of uncertainty tugs at your heart. “I never wanted things to end like this. Did I really mean that little to him?”

Christian places his hands on your shoulders, his grip firm but gentle. “You meant a lot to him once. But people change, Y/N. Sometimes they become someone you no longer recognize. It sounds like he’s trying to rewrite history because he can’t accept the truth of his mistakes.” His words wash over you like a soothing balm. You nod slowly, attempting to absorb his encouragement.

“Have you thought about confronting him?” Christian asks. “Not on TV, of course, but in private. He needs to understand the ramifications of his words.”

You shake your head, the very thought of Jake and his betrayal makes you feel exhausted. “I don’t know if I can,” you admit. “Just seeing his face makes me—”

Your voice catches, and Christian pulls you closer, enveloping you in an embrace that feels like home. “Then don’t confront him. Focus on what matters right now—yourself. Your peace of mind. We can figure this out together.”

“Can we—can we just turn the TV off?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. The thought of hearing Jake’s voice again fills you with dread.

“Absolutely,” Christian replies, pushing the button on the remote, the screen fading to black. It feels like a weight has been lifted. “What do you want to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, feeling defeated. “Maybe just distract myself? I can’t think about this right now.”

Your phone buzzes against the coffee table as it lights up, cutting through the haze of despair. Christian glances at the screen, squinting at the name flashing across it.

“It’s Max,” he says, his brows furrowing slightly. “Do you want to talk to him?”

You nod, unable to trust your voice, relief flooding through you at the thought of speaking with him. Max always knew how to make you laugh, how to pull you back from the edge of your spirals. Christian takes the call, speaking softly into the phone.

“Max, do not, under any circumstances, talk about Jake. Y/N is not ready for that now. Just take her mind off it.”

“Of course, I understand. Can you give the phone to Y/N now?” Max’s voice, warm and buoyant, crackles through the line.

“Okay, but remember,” Christian warns as he hands you the phone.

“Hey schat!” Max’s voice floods your ear, bringing with it an instant warmth that begins to thaw the tension coiling around your heart.

“Hey, Max,” you reply softly, trying to match his enthusiasm. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much, just wanted to tell you that the cats are missing you,” he says, and you hear a distant meow in the background, a confirmation that in their own way, they too are longing for your presence.

You chuckle, trying to hold back the mass of emotions threatening to rise within you. “Of course they do! I’m their favorite after all.”

“It took me so long to get them to like me and you did it in three minutes. Oh—Sassy, stop! Schat? Do you mind going on video call? They really want to see your face.”

“Of course, Max,” you say, feeling a soft smile break through the tension.

Christian watches you, his heart swelling with hope. Just seeing you smile, even slightly, is a relief. After a moment, you hear the familiar ringing tone on your phone as the video connects, and suddenly, you see Max’s face beaming back at you, framed by the chaos of your shared lives.

“Look who’s here,” he says in a mock-serious tone, gesturing dramatically toward the camera. Then, just outside the frame, two furry figures leap into view.

“Hey, you two!” You coo, leaning closer to the screen, your spirit lifting as the cats vie for your attention. “Missed you so much!”

A sudden giggle escapes you as one of the cats gets distracted, pouncing at something invisible offscreen. You can’t suppress the smile that spreads across your face, and in that moment, Christian knows he made the right call in bringing Max into the situation.

Meanwhile, in another room, Christian picks up his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he finds Geri’s name. Her voice always managed to calm him, a soothing balm to the chaos of parenthood and life.

“Hey love,” she answers on the second ring.

“Hey, Y/N had seen the news about Jake, and I think she just had a panic attack,” he explains, worry lacing his words.

“What! I told you to not show her just yet! Where is she?” Geri’s voice is sharp, full of concern.

“Don’t worry, she’s calmed down,” he says, glancing into the living room where he can still hear your laughter.

There’s a pause on the other end, and Christian can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. “Is that her? She sounds fine to me.”

“She’s talking to Max. I told him to cheer her up,” he replies.

“Sounds like it’s working miracles! I heard that a loved one can help panic attacks,” Geri states matter-of-factly.

“Love,” Christian warns softly.

“What? They love each other,” she says, disbelief threading her tone.

“But she may still like Jake.” His voice is a whisper now, almost a prayer that you’ve moved on.

“After this? She’s probably forgotten about that bastard now she’s speaking to Max,” Geri says with fierce confidence.

“Honey, no cursing, I’m with the kids,” he chuckles lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

A few moments later, squeaky yet bright, and it’s Montague, their little one. “Hi Mommy, love you!” he chirps.

“Hey, baby! Love you too! I’m coming home soon,” Geri replies, her own voice turning softer, more maternal than ever.

“Dear? I’ll speak to Y/N when I get home; just keep her distracted, okay?” Geri adds, a hint of authority in her tone.

“Of course, love, I’ll keep her entertained,” Christian promises, a smile creeping on his face as he glances back at you.

You’re still deeply engrossed in Max’s antics, and he can see it’s working wonders.

As the call continues, laughter and lightness fill the room, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. For the first time in what feels like weeks, you're allowed to forget the chaos outside—if only for a moment.

Christian watches you, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this is the first step toward healing. Amid the blankets of pain Jake left you buried under, your laughter is a fresh thread, weaving you and Max closer, and as the minutes slip by, you know that this is where your heart wishes to be, in the company of those who truly care.

Time passes, and the shadows cast by your past begin to lighten, revealing new paths forward, ones that glimmer with potential and hope.

You don’t have to think about Jake anymore—not right now, anyway. You’ve found solace and comfort in friends, and maybe soon, you’ll find a little love too.

You went to sleep after dinner, the phone call with Max had calmed you down for now, but now all you wanted was sleep. Unfortunately, sleep didn’t want you back. After what felt like an hour of tossing and turning, you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you said, sitting up on your bed, the sheets pooling around your waist.

The door opened slowly, and Geri walked in, closing the door behind her. “Hey, Y/N,” she said sweetly, her voice warm and motherly, like you were one of her children. It felt that way sometimes, especially in moments like this.

“Hi, Geri,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Geri sat down on your bed, her presence calming in a way that was both comforting and suffocating. “I heard about what happened today. Are you alright?”

You looked down, avoiding her gaze, a lump forming in your throat. “No,” you said, honesty spilling out before you could think better of it. You didn’t feel like lying to this woman who had always been a source of support.

“And that’s alright,” she replied gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze yours. “You’re allowed to feel that.”

“Geri, I don’t even know where to start,” you confessed, your voice cracking. “He… he just turned everyone against me. People I thought I could trust. They’re all believing him.”

“Not everyone, from what I heard. Max still believes you,” Geri said, her eyes sparkling with a glimmer of hope.

Your heart skipped at the mention of Max. You felt a flicker of warmth in your chest, but it was quickly extinguished by the cold reality of the situation.

“But what does that even matter? Jake was on national TV! He lied about me. He said I cheated on him, Geri! Everyone is hearing that, and all they see is him, crying over how I betrayed him. I can’t compete with that.”

Geri leaned in, her eyes earnest. “Y/N, people who know you will see through the lies. You’re not that person. You didn’t cheat on him.”

“I thought I knew him. I thought he cared about me,” you said, tears spilling down your cheeks. “How could he do this to me?”

“He’s scared,” Geri replied softly. “People do crazy things when they’re afraid. It’s easier for him to deflect the blame than to face his own issues. You know that.”

You nodded slowly, but the hurt was still fresh, like a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding. You felt exposed, raw, and utterly devastated by the public humiliation.

“You know something like this happened to me a long time ago,” Geri said gently, moving to sit beside you on the bed. “Shall I tell you about it?”

You nodded, desperate for a distraction, for the comfort of shared experience.

“I had a boyfriend called Kyle. I thought he was the one for me until one day, after the concerts with the girls, he told everyone I knew I had cheated on him with one of the backup dancers. Word got out and it became a scandal,” Geri started, her eyes clouding with memories.

“What happened after?” you asked, intrigued. You leaned in closer, wanting to absorb every word.

“I didn’t know what to do. No one other than my friends and family believed me. The press was calling me a cheater. My manager said to forget about it and write a statement on social media about the truth,” Geri recounted, her voice steadying.

You felt a flicker of hope. “And did you? Did you write a statement?”

“Sort of,” Geri replied with a smirk. “I took a break and decided to take some time for myself. Friends suggested that I go to a Formula 1 race, and that’s when I met Christian. He helped me through the dark times. Just like Max is doing for you.”

“Max…” you murmured, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks. You didn’t want to think about how much you liked him, especially now.

“He’s been really supportive, hasn’t he?” Geri asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You two have this incredible chemistry. It’s nice to see you smile again, even if it’s under these circumstances.”

You sighed, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions. “I don’t want to drag him into my mess. What if Jake twists the narrative again? I can’t let that happen to someone else.”

“Max cares about you, Y/N. He’s not just going to abandon you because of what Jake said. Trust me, he sees who you really are,” Geri encouraged.

“I know, but it just feels so complicated right now,” you confessed, pulling your knees to your chest. “What if it gets worse? What if I end up hurting him?”

“Love is complicated, but you don’t have to face this alone,” Geri reassured her. “You can lean on Max, just like I leaned on Christian. It’s not a sign of weakness; it’s just how relationships grow. And trust me, no one who truly cares about you is going to abandon you because of someone else’s lies.”

The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. You knew Geri was right, but her heart was a battlefield, torn between past affections and the promise of a better future with Max.

“What if I lean onto Max and he thinks I’m just a mess?” your voice cracked. “What if he sees me as broken?”

“Y/N, you are not broken. You’re human, and you’re allowed to feel hurt and lost after everything that’s happened. But if you push him away because of that fear, you might miss out on something beautiful,” Geri urged.

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke, “I just need a moment. I’m so scared of getting hurt again.”

Geri nodded, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay to be scared. Just remember that Max has shown you kindness and support. It’s a risk worth taking.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” you said, earning a gentle rub on your shoulder from her. “But what should I do now? This scandal is not going to disappear.”

“Talk to your manager and I’ll ask Christian for advice,” Geri suggested, her brow furrowing in concentration. “We’ll talk in the morning. Good night, okay?”

You nodded, your mind swirling with thoughts. As Geri stood to leave, you called out, “Geri?”

“Yeah?” Geri turned back, her expression open and warm.

“Thank you. For everything,” You said, your voice steadier now.

“Anytime,” Geri smiled before disappearing into the hallway. . . .

You woke up to the sound of hushed conversations drifting up from downstairs, an unfamiliar mix of voices that hinted at urgency and unease. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you pushed back the covers, feeling a mix of anxiety and dread wash over you.

You took a moment to collect yourself before deciding to face the world beyond your bedroom. The soft morning light spilled into your room, illuminating the racing memorabilia that decorated the walls.

You rummaged through your wardrobe, searching for something that would help you regain a semblance of confidence amidst the turmoil.

Finally, you settled on a crisp, fitted polo shirt paired with tailored black jeans. You wanted to project strength and professionalism, even if your heart was in turmoil.

As you stepped into the living area, the chatter ceased momentarily, and all eyes turned toward you. The room felt charged with a palpable tension.

There, gathered in the living room, were Christian, Geri, your manager, and a Red Bull staff member you didn’t recognize. They all bore expressions of concern mixed with an eagerness to discuss the recent scandal.

“Good morning, did we wake you up?” Geri’s warm smile felt like a small comfort amidst the chaos.

“No, you didn’t. Did I interrupt a meeting?” you replied, your voice steady, even though your heart raced.

“Oh no, actually this meeting is for you,” your manager said gently, his brow furrowing slightly as he gestured for you to take a seat. “We were discussing the news of yesterday.”

Christian leaned forward, his eyes searching yours. “This is Rebecca, Red Bull’s Public Relations Manager,” he said, gesturing toward the young woman standing by the table.

She was poised and confident, her blazer sharp against her athletic frame. As she stood to shake your hand, you noticed her expression was one of sympathy.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you said, squeezing her hand firmly. “Can I drink some coffee before I join the meeting?”

“Join us whenever you’re ready,” Geri replied, her voice soothing as she motioned toward the coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen.

You walked into the kitchen, your heart pounding with uncertainty. You could hear snippets of conversation as you waited for the coffee to brew.

When the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, you poured yourself a steaming cup and took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before rejoining the group.

As you returned to the living room, you found the atmosphere had shifted slightly, the weight of the discussion palpable.

“So,” you began, trying to sound more composed than you felt, “what’s the plan?”

Rebecca cleared her throat. “We’re here to strategize your public response. The situation with Jake has escalated, and we need to manage the narrative before it spirals out of control.”

You set your coffee down on the table, the cup trembling slightly in your grip.

“I didn’t cheat on him, you know that, right?” You felt the urgency to clarify, to assure them of your innocence. “I’m not sure why he’d say that.”

Geri nodded, her expression one of understanding. “We know, and we’ll make that clear. But we need to address the media first. They’ll be relentless.”

“Could you please tell us in detail what events happened prior to know how to strategize?” Rebecca asked, her voice gentle yet firm.

You looked at Geri, seeking her reassurance. She nodded, her presence grounding you. Taking a deep breath, you began, “Jake had been getting more aggressive with me ever since I joined Red Bull. He said he didn’t want to lose me, but he would hit me, break things in the house… and then he’d apologize for being angry. I thought it was normal. I forgave him until the Austrian Grand Prix.”

You paused, the memory flooding back—laughter and cheers from the crowd, the thrill of victory, and then Jake’s face, twisted in anger.

“I won the race, and he was really furious for some reason. He hurt me… saying I cheated on him with Max. I didn’t. Max then came in and stopped him.”

As you recounted the incident, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The tension hung like a heavy fog. You could see the disbelief in Rebecca’s eyes, but there was also a flicker of understanding.

You stare at the table, your heart heavy with shame. “I still have some bruises and scars if you don’t believe me,” you mutter, ashamed to meet Geri’s gaze.

“Oh, honey,” Geri whispers, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We believe you. You deserve so much better than this.”

“I just don’t understand him anymore,” you say, shaking your head, your fingers brushing over the faint marks that Jake left on your skin.

Rebecca, your team manager, cleared her throat, drawing your attention. “We need to handle this carefully. The media is already buzzing, and we have to prepare a statement. But first, let’s talk about your safety. Have you thought about what you want to do regarding Jake?”

You looked down at your hands, heart racing as you contemplated the question. Fear and liberation wrestled within you. “I—I don’t know. I still love him, but I know I can’t go back to that. I don’t want to be that person again.”

Geri sighed, a mix of sympathy and frustration evident in her eyes. “Love shouldn’t feel like a prison. He put you in a terrible position, and you don’t deserve it.”

“I know,” you murmured, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. “But he’s always been a part of my life, and it’s hard to just... let go.”

Rebecca shifted in her seat, her expression softening. “What about Max? Do you like him?”

A flush crept up your cheeks, and you bit your lip. “I… I don’t know,” you admitted. “I mean, he’s always been there for me, especially during races. He’s so talented, and he respects me as a driver.”

Geri raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “That sounds like more than just teammate admiration, love.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips despite the gravity of the situation. “You’re ridiculous, Geri. It’s not like that. I’m just… trying to get through this mess with Jake.”

“But is it a mess you want to get back into?” Rebecca pressed gently. “What’s your heart telling you?”

Your heart raced as you pondered the question. The truth was, part of you craved the affection and validation Jake had once given you, but another part craved something deeper, something healthier.

“Well, I think the best thing to do is write your statement on social media, seeing as it will reach more people,” Rebecca suggested, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“Do I really have to? I mean, what if I make it worse?”

“Nothing can be worse than what Jake has already done,” Geri interjected. “You need to take control of your narrative, and you can’t let him dictate your life.”

You nodded slowly, knowing deep down that they were right. You grabbed your phone and opened your social media app, hesitating as your finger hovered over the screen. What could you say? How could you explain something so complex in a simple post?

“Just be honest,” Rebecca encouraged, leaning closer to you. “Let people know the truth. You can’t let them believe Jake’s lies.”

Taking a deep breath, you began typing. “I want to address the recent events. I am deeply hurt by the accusations made against me. My focus has always been on my career and my passion for racing. I never cheated on Jake. The truth is, I deserve to be respected and loved without betrayal.” You paused, your heart racing as you added, “I hope to navigate this situation with grace and find a way forward.”

Once you hit “post,” an unexpected wave of relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced by anxiety. What would the backlash be? How would Jake respond?

Max’s comment reads, “You deserve the world after all this 💙.”

Your heart skips a beat. You knew it would look like flirting to the public, but you couldn't care less. Max had always been the guy who treated you with respect, unlike Jake.

Rebecca notices your reaction. “Well, at least that’s the first step done. The next will be what you’re going to say in the press,” she states, her tone shifting to that of a strategist.

As a driver, you’ve always had a passion for racing, and this unexpected break has given you the chance to reflect on your upcoming press conference in Las Vegas in just two weeks.

The support you’ve received on social media has been overwhelming, with many women expressing their gratitude for your representation in a sport that often lacks it, even though that was never your intention.

“I want to see you as soon as possible,” he had said, his tone serious yet tender.

You had told him that you would be tied up babysitting Geri and Christian kids tomorrow night while they enjoyed their date night. He had agreed, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

“Don’t be nervous,” Geri teases, applying a final touch of lipstick. “He’s just a friend, right?”

“Geri, don’t,” you groan, rubbing your temples. You know she means well, but the flutter of emotions within you is a tempest you’re struggling to control.

The thought of Max brings you a sense of comfort, but also an undeniable tension. Your heart races just thinking about how he’d react to Jake’s lies.

The doorbell rings, shattering your train of thought. You jump up, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and barely hear Geri chuckle as you rush to the door.

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself as you swing the door open.

Max stands there, his familiar figure cutting a striking silhouette against the evening light. For a moment, you both just stare at each other, taking in the sight. It feels surreal that after more than a week apart, he’s here.

You can see the concern etched on his face, mingling with a flicker of relief that he’s finally found you.

“Max,” you whisper, feeling a rush of emotions bubble to the surface. Without thinking, you step closer and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder.

He freezes for a moment, and then you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in tighter. It’s a crushing hug, and you need it more than anything in that moment.

The world fades away, and it’s just you and him. “I missed you,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice slightly muffled.

You pull back just enough to look into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “I missed you too. More than I can say.”

“Are you okay?” he asks, knowing that he doesn’t need to say his name for you to understand.

You nod, pushing your face back into his neck. You didn’t feel like talking about it. The last week had been tumultuous; you had lost your job, and the burden of uncertainty weighed heavily on you. But for now, you just wanted to bask in Max’s presence.

He seems to sense your hesitation. Instead of pressing further, he rubs your back in circles, grounding you with each gentle movement.

“Sorry to bother your reunion, but me and my wife need to go,” you hear a voice behind you. You let go to turn and see Christian, looking both happily and slightly irritated.

Geri comes out of nowhere, carrying her bag before playfully hitting her husband on the shoulder. “Oh, don’t be so sour, love! Don’t disturb young love,” she chides.

Max’s face turns crimson, and you can’t help but chuckle at his embarrassment.

“Oh, hello Geri and Christian,” Max says politely, but there’s an undercurrent of nervousness in his voice as if he hasn’t known them for years.

“Hey, Max, it’s been a while! I hope you don’t mind taking care of the kids,” Geri says, gesturing to her two children watching Moana, blissfully unaware of the adult world swirling around them.

“I don’t,” he replies quickly, a bit too quickly, as though he’s eager to impress.

After Geri and Christian bid goodbye to the kids, Geri pulls you into a warm embrace. “Don’t forget about the kids when you’re with him,” she teases, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I won’t,” you assure, a smile spreading across your face as you pull back.

You wave as they enter their car and drive off, leaving you alone with Max. The quiet of the evening settles around you, a comfortable silence that feels right.

You turned back to see Max still lingering near the entrance, his eyes darting around, a shy expression plastered on his face.

“I’ve never seen you this red before; is something the matter?” you teased, stepping closer to him, feeling a strange thrill at the proximity.

“Nothing is wrong,” he muttered, though the way his cheeks flared made it hard to believe him.

Before you could respond, Olivia’s voice rang out from the living room, “Y/N! The movie stopped!”

You quickly walked to the living room, with Max trailing behind you. Upon entering, you found Olivia and Montague staring at the blank screen, their eyes wide and expectant.

When they noticed Max behind you, Olivia jumped to her feet, an expression of curiosity and surprise painting her face.

“Who is that?” she asked, pointing at Max, her eyes sparkling with interest.

“That’s Max Verstappen, your dad’s driver and my teammate, remember?” you explained, stepping in between the two children and Max, who was waiting for them to process the information.

Slowly, Olivia approached Max, her little brows furrowed in concentration. Montague, on the other hand, hid behind your leg, peeking out shyly.

Max, sensing the little girl’s hesitance, knelt down to be on her level, his warm smile making him more approachable.

“Hey there, Olivia,” he said softly, “I hear you like racing.”

Before he could say more, Olivia squealed, “Maxie!” and rushed to envelop him in a tight hug.

Max looked taken aback for a moment, surprise flickering in his eyes before he returned the hug, clearly relieved that she recognized him.

Montague peered from behind you, his gaze curious. You nodded encouragement, and the three-year-old cautiously waddled over to Max.

“Can I hug you too?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course!” Max replied, opening his arms wide. Montague dashed into his embrace, a shy grin breaking through his earlier timidity.

“Wow! You’re really strong!” Montague exclaimed as he pulled back to look at Max, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

Max chuckled, “You know it! But you’re a strong little guy too.” He ruffled Montague’s hair affectionately.

The room filled with warmth and laughter as you watched the unlikely trio connect. “You’ve got a great way with kids, Max,” you remarked, leaning against the couch, feeling a swell of fondness for him.

Max shrugged, a modest smile creeping across his face. “I guess they’re just a bit like racing—just need to know how to make them feel comfortable.”

Olivia, still bubbling with excitement, chimed in, “Can we watch Moana now, Max? Please?”

Max stood, dusting off his knees, “Absolutely! But only if you promise to sing along with me during the songs!”

“Deal!” Olivia declared, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. Montague nodded vigorously, and the two rushed back to the couch.

As Max settled in beside them, you felt an unexpected flutter in your chest watching him interact so effortlessly with the kids.

It was a sight you never knew you needed to see, and somehow, it made the day feel even more special.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts, focusing on the task at hand. With the TV remote in one hand and a big bowl of freshly popped popcorn in the other, you navigated the living room and prepared to join the trio on the couch.

As you walked back in, you couldn’t help but marvel at the picture before you—Olivia and Montague snuggled up against Max, their faces alight with excitement as they chatted about the adventures of Moana.

Max was the only one who noticed your presence at the doorway. “Hey, you’re missing the best part!” he teased, his voice warm and inviting, gesturing with his hand for you to come over.

You chuckled and placed the popcorn on the table before joining them on the couch. As you settled in, you felt Max's arm rest casually behind you, a simple gesture that sent a thrill down your spine.

Montague then decided to plop himself down on your lap, grinning from ear to ear.

“Can I have some popcorn?” he asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Of course, little buddy!” you replied, scooping a handful of popcorn and offering it to him. He giggled, delighted.

As the movie began, you found yourself lost in the vibrant animation and the infectious songs. The familiar tunes filled the room, and soon, Olivia was singing along, her voice loud and enthusiastic.

Max joined in, his deep voice blending harmoniously with hers, and you couldn't help but smile.

“Isn’t this the best?” Olivia shouted over the music, her little hands dancing in the air.

“It totally is!” Montague agreed, leaning back against you. “Moana is my favorite!”

As you sat there, enveloped in the laughter and song, you couldn’t shake the thought that this moment felt like a family—your heart warmed at the idea of it. You looked at Max, who was entirely focused on the kids, his face lit up with joy.

The thought of a family with him, of laughter, love, and shared moments, flickered in your mind. You didn’t hate the idea; in fact, you found it rather comforting.

Max must have sensed your distraction because he leaned a little closer and whispered, “Don’t think for now; focus on the movie.”

His voice was low, a playful grin on his face as he nudged your shoulder with his hand.

You nodded, attempting to push the thoughts away, immersing yourself instead in the colorful world of Moana. But it was hard not to feel that flutter again as Montague snuggled deeper into your lap, and Olivia continued to sing her heart out.

Time slipped away, and when you finally woke, you found yourself fully lying on the sofa, a soft blanket draped over you.

As you blinked awake, your eyes adjusted to the sight of Max cross-legged at the table, Olivia and Montague by his side, helping them with their homework. They were distracted, giggling softly as they tossed playful glances at each other.

You decided to keep quiet, wanting to listen to their innocent chatter.

“So Maxie! Do you like my sister?” Olivia asked in a tone that was surprisingly confrontational for someone so small, though no one could mistake it for intimidating.

“Who?” Max replied, his brow furrowing in feigned confusion.

“Y/N! She’s basically my sister,” Olivia declared, her expression matter-of-fact, as if the truth of the universe had just been revealed.

Max’s eyes darted to you, and you felt your cheeks warm. “Oh, Y/N, it’s complicated,” he said, shrugging in a way that made you feel he was hiding something.

“Love can’t be complicated! If you like my sister, then you two should date! I think you two will look cute together,” Olivia stated matter-of-factly.

“I do like Y/N,” Max began, a smile creeping onto his face. “She’s pretty, and she makes me feel happy—”

Olivia’s squeal interrupted him, a piercing sound that made Montague cover his ears dramatically. “So you do like her!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You could feel your heart race, a mix of embarrassment and delight. It was one thing to think about your feelings for Max; it was another to hear him admit them so openly, even if it was to a seven-year-old.

You stretched, stretching the blanket away from your body, pretending to wake up. “What are you guys yelling about?” you asked, your voice thick with feigned sleepiness.

"Nothing," Max said, hastily shushing Olivia as she burst into giggles.

“Oh, uh, just some kid stuff,” Max said, his cheeks slightly pink as he averted his gaze from yours. You noted the small, shy smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and your heart raced again.

You had always liked Max. But tonight, hearing him confess to Olivia that he liked you stirred something deeper within you, a mixture of hope and fear that made you hesitate.

Olivia looked at you with wide eyes, the kind that meant she knew more than she should. “Y/N, Max said you’re pretty! And that you make him happy!”

Max's face turned a bright shade of red, and he quickly covered Olivia's mouth with his hand. “Okay, that’s enough of that! Let’s focus on your homework!” he said, trying to redirect the conversation.

You slipped off the sofa and moved to sit with them at the small dining table. “Let’s see that homework then,” you said, suppressing a smile.

As the three of you tackled Olivia’s math problems, the air was filled with laughter and the occasional playful bickering.

Every time Max’s hand brushed against yours while reaching for a pencil, electricity shot through you, making it hard to concentrate on the numbers sprawled out on the page.

After dealing with the homework, you decided to watch another movie as a reward for concentrating that long.

The atmosphere turned lighter, and as the movie started playing—Toy Story 3, an old favorite of theirs—Montague was already dozing off, snuggled against you.

You smiled, gently pushing his hair back as he slept.

Max leaned closer to you, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re really good with them,” he said, his gaze earnest.

You felt your heart flutter, and you turned to meet his eyes. “Thanks, Max. I really enjoy spending time with them and you too. It’s nice to take a break from everything else,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual even though you felt the weight of his words.

As the movie played on, Montague shifted in his sleep, and Olivia was slowly getting drowsy as well.

Max helped you tuck them into bed, his hand brushing against yours as you carried Montague upstairs. In the dim light of the hallway, you caught Max watching you, a soft smile on his face.

After you tucked Montague in and turned off the light, you returned to find Olivia snuggled under her blanket, her big eyes heavy with sleep.

“Goodnight, Y/N. And Max, too!” she mumbled, her voice fading into slumber.

Max turned to you, a warm smile lighting up his face. “You really are amazing with them. They adore you,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “I love spending time with them. They’re like little sponges, soaking up everything.”

The evening had flown by, and you were pleasantly surprised by how easy it felt to be with him. You thought he would leave, but to your surprise, he headed to the living room, starting to clean up the popcorn mess from earlier.

“Are you not going to go?” you asked, your brow furrowing slightly as you watched him gather the scattered kernels.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he replied, looking up at you with those warm blue eyes that always seemed to find a way to melt the edges of your heart. “But if not, I’m going to clean this mess and then we’re going to talk.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding at the thought of what he might want to discuss. “Talk about what?” you asked cautiously, trying to mask your nervousness.

Max set the popcorn bowl down and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he regarded you.

“About Jake, what you’re going to do about it, and everything else,” he stated plainly.

You froze, the air thickening around you. You had thought that was a conversation you could avoid for a while longer to be face to face.

“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s just typical Jake, you know? He loves to stir the pot.”

Max sighed, clearly unconvinced. “It’s more than that, and you know it. You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.”

“Why are you so invested?” You couldn’t help but challenge him, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s my mess to handle.”

“Because I care about you,” Max replied, his voice softening. “And I can see it’s bothering you more than you’re letting on. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

You looked away, heart racing. You liked Max—really liked him—but the idea of him getting too involved in your drama felt like a lot to ask. “It’s just… complicated. I don’t want to drag you into my issues.”

“Too late,” he said with a slight grin, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m already knee-deep in popcorn and Jake drama. Might as well make a mess of it together.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a small, genuine smile breaking through. “That’s one way to look at it.”

After a moment of silence, you helped him clean up the mess of popcorn that had spilled onto the floor. As you gathered the stray kernels, he made you sit down and wait for him to finish cleaning. When he finally returned, he was holding two glasses of water, the cool liquid glistening in the light.

He handed one to you before sitting down beside you, his knees brushing against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a moment, you forgot about the chaos surrounding Jake.

“So why do you want to talk about it?” you asked flatly, wishing he would drop the subject.

“Because I really needed to see if you were okay,” Max stated, his gaze steady. “I know we already talk about it on the phone, but you could have been lying.”

“What if I lie right now?” you challenged, a hint of defiance in your voice.

“Then I’ll know,” Max replied simply.

It was true. Max had a way of seeing through the facades you put up, his perceptive nature both comforting and unnerving.

“So what do you want to know?” you asked, taking a sip of water to buy yourself a moment.

“Are you really okay?” Max asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

You stared at him, momentarily taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes. “Honestly?” you sighed, finally allowing the vulnerability to creep in. “No, I’m not okay. Jake’s always been dramatic, but this… this is just too much. He’s painting me as the villain in his story.”

Max nodded, processing your words. “And it hurts.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, feeling a knot form in your throat. “It feels like everything I built with him is unraveling, and I’m left to pick up the pieces. I didn’t cheat on him, but no one’s going to believe me when he’s the one on TV.”

“People will believe you,” Max reassured you. “I believe you. I’ve seen the way you are, and it’s not like you to betray someone. Jake’s just trying to shift the blame.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your heart warming at his support. “It’s just so exhausting.”

You never thought it would come to this—a therapist’s office, the sterile smell of freshly cleaned upholstery, the soft hum of the air conditioning.

“Hello Y/N, I’m Dr. Sullivan. I’ll be your therapist. I’m sure Mr. Horner told you about me,” the woman said as she stood up to shake your hand.

“Good afternoon, yes, Mr. Horner told me about you,” you replied, your voice slightly wavering. You felt small, yet determined. You had made the choice to be here, to reclaim your life.

Dr. Sullivan gestured to her couch, and you took a seat, trying to find a comfortable position in the plush cushions. It felt strange to be here, talking to a stranger about the most intimate parts of your life.

“Why don’t we start by talking about what brought you here?” Dr. Sullivan suggested, her eyes gentle but probing.

You took a deep breath. “I… I’ve been struggling ever since my relationship with Jake ended. He wasn’t just my boyfriend; he was… he was everything. But he became controlling and abusive. I thought I could handle it, but… now it’s all falling apart.” You swallowed hard, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

Dr. Sullivan nodded. “It’s normal to feel this way after leaving an abusive relationship. Can you tell me more about the abuse?”

You hesitated, the memories flooding back. “He would get angry over small things, like how I dressed or who I hung out with. At first, I thought he was just protective, but then it became suffocating. He would shout and belittle me. I felt like I was walking on eggshells all the time.”

Dr. Sullivan maintained a compassionate expression. “That sounds incredibly difficult. It’s understandable that you feel scared and anxious. This is not just about your past; it’s about your future, too. What do you want to feel instead?”

“I just want to feel normal,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to go out without feeling like everyone is judging me or thinking I’m a liar. I don't want to be having panic attacks when I see someone who looks shady because I think it's him.”

Dr. Sullivan leaned forward slightly. “It’s important to understand that what he said doesn’t define you. You are not a liar, and you did not deserve the treatment he subjected you to. We’ll work through these feelings together.”

As the session continued, you slowly opened up about everything—the fear, the shame, the isolation you felt after the breakup. Dr. Sullivan listened intently, offering small affirmations that helped you feel validated.

“Tell me about Max,” she said softly. “How does he fit into this?”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the mention of his name. Max was your teammate, a kind and encouraging presence in your life. “Max has been my friend for a while now. He’s supportive and always encourages me to be better. I’ve never seen him as anything more than that…until recently.”

“Do you think there are feelings there?” Dr. Sullivan probed gently.

“I don’t know. I mean, after everything with Jake, I’m terrified of getting hurt again. But sometimes, when Max looks at me, I feel safe. It’s strange… like I can breathe for the first time in months.” You smiled slightly, lost in the thought of him.

“Exploring those feelings is an important part of your healing process,” Dr. Sullivan advised. “You don’t have to rush into anything, but acknowledging that you can feel something for someone again is a positive step.”

As you left the office that day, the air felt lighter. You were still plagued by Jake’s accusations, but you began to understand that his words didn’t dictate your worth.

You made a promise to yourself: to heal, to grow, and to allow yourself the chance at love again, even if it scared you. . . .

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

The paddock buzzed with excitement and nervous energy as the sun cast long shadows over the grandstands. The atmosphere was charged, as if everyone could feel the weight of the headlines swirling outside the circuit.

As you made your way through the bustling paddock, you felt a steadying presence beside you. Max walked with a casual confidence, his Red Bull cap pulled low, shielding his eyes but not his smile.

You couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him; despite the chaos of the past days, he always had a way of making everything seem more manageable.

“So, you think you’re going to be okay with the questions?” Max asked, taking a swig from his can of Red Bull as you both entered the hospitality room.

You sighed, the tension creeping back in. “Yeah, but you know they’re going to shoot so many questions. I’m not even sure what to say.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, giving you a reassuring nod. “I’ll help if it gets too much. Just look at me and I’ll step in.”

You shot him a playful glare. “I think that would just assist the rumors. The last thing we need is for people to think we’re a couple now, too.”

Max chuckled, a warm sound that lifted your spirits. “Well, that might not be the worst thing,” he teased, nudging your shoulder lightly. “But seriously, just stick to the facts. Ignore the drama.”

Before you could respond, a staff member approached, signaling it was time for the press conference. Your heart raced as you followed the staff into the room, where a group of journalists awaited, cameras flashing and questions ready to roll.

You took your place on the sofa, flanked by Yuki, Charles, and Alex. Max settled beside you, giving you an encouraging thumbs-up.

“Right, so let’s start now,” the interviewer said, eyes focused on you. “First question: What are your thoughts on the allegations made against you?”

You took a deep breath, your fingers tightening around the microphone. “Well, I think it’s important to clarify that—”

“Are you currently in a relationship with Max?” a journalist interrupted, his tone cutting through the air like a knife.

You looked at Max, who raised an eyebrow, silently asking if you wanted him to step in. You shook your head slightly, determined to handle this on your own.

“No, I’m not in a relationship with Max,” you replied, your voice steady. “He’s my teammate and a great friend. The rumors are just that—rumors.”

Another journalist chimed in, “What do you have to say about your ex’s claims? Do you think they’re rooted in jealousy?”

A flurry of questions followed, each more intense than the last. But with every inquiry, Max’s steady presence calmed your racing heart. Every time you looked at him, you found reassurance in his supportive gaze.

The questions came flying at you like a barrage of arrows, each one aimed to wound. “Why do you think Jake would say something like that?” one reporter pressed, while another shouted, “Are you saying he’s lying?”

Taking a breath, you replied, “Jake is going through a lot right now, and I can’t speak for him. But I can tell you this: I have never cheated on him, nor would I. We broke up for reasons that were our own, and I wish him no ill will.”

You could tell Max was getting restless as they pressed further, so you decided to change the subject.

“Can we talk about the upcoming race instead?” you interjected, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’m really looking forward to the challenges this circuit presents. It’s a fantastic track, and I think we have a great chance to show our skills.”

Max jumped in seamlessly. “Absolutely. I think our team has made some significant improvements since last season, and I’m excited to see how we can push each other on the track.”

The journalists seemed momentarily distracted by your shift in focus, jotting down notes and exchanging glances.

After a few more questions about racing and strategy, the conference finally began to wrap up. As you stood to leave, a reporter called out, “One last question! How do you feel about your ex’s accusations?”

You took a moment, glancing at Max, who was watching you intently. “I feel like it’s time to move on from that chapter. The truth will always come out, and I’m excited to focus on my career and the people who truly support me—like Max.”

As the press conference wrapped up, you stepped away from the cameras, the weight on your shoulders feeling a little lighter.

The chaos of the last few days—the headlines, the rumors, the betrayal—was still echoing in your mind, but at least now you felt like you had a little control over the narrative.

“You handled that really well,” Max said, his voice warm and encouraging as he fell into step beside you. He flashed a genuine smile that sent a flutter through your chest.

“Thanks,” you replied, a hint of shyness creeping into your tone. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Max’s support had been a lifeline.

“It’s nothing, really,” Max said, shrugging off your compliment as you both approached the conference room door. “I just hope it makes them shut up.”

He opened the door for you, and as you walked into the meeting room, you immediately felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. The team was gathered around the large conference table, and their expressions ranged from concerned to curious.

“Sorry we’re late,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you sat down in one of the seats. Max took the spot beside you, his presence calming. Christian was already there, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Good to see you both,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I watched the press conference. You did an incredible job.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I just tried to stay calm.”

Max nudged you playfully with his shoulder. “You were calm like a pro. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were born for the spotlight.”

You chuckled, trying to shake off the nervous energy. “I think the spotlight is the last place I want to be right now.”

“Totally understandable,” Christian said, glancing between you and Max. “It’s a lot of pressure. But you two handled it like champions.”

You nodded, but inside, your mind was racing. The press conference had felt surreal.

The meeting shifted to strategy for the upcoming race, but you found it difficult to concentrate. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Jake’s betrayal, the hurtful accusation that hung in the air like a bad smell.

You glanced at Max, who was animatedly discussing the course with Christian. His passion was palpable, and in that moment, you felt a tug at your heart.

You liked him. A lot. More than you had dared to admit.

“Okay, what do you think?” Christian asked, breaking through your reverie.

“Uh, sorry, what?” you replied, your cheeks flushing as you realized you had completely zoned out.

“About the race strategy,” Max said, smiling gently. “We’re thinking of tightening the turns on the first lap. You know, give us a better chance at the inside track.”

“Right, sounds good,” you nodded, trying to catch up. “That could definitely give us an edge.”

“See?” Max grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re back with us!”

As the meeting continued, you found yourself stealing glances at Max, a smile creeping onto your face whenever he laughed or made a point. The warmth between you was undeniable, but guilt lurked in the back of your mind.

How could you feel this way when your past was still hanging over you like a storm cloud?

When the meeting wraps up, you stand to leave, but then you hear Christian’s voice. “Y/N, can you stay back for a minute?”

Shit. That’s what you get for daydreaming during a meeting.

Max catches your eye and tilts his head, concern etched on his features. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just a quick chat,” you say, forcing a smile, but inside, your stomach churns. You watch as he exits the room, leaving you alone with Christian.

“What’s up?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

Christian leaned back in his high-backed leather chair, his arms crossing over his chest, a gesture that always seemed to amplify his imposing presence.

He regarded you for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before speaking, his tone smooth as silk, yet somehow it didn't reassure you. “I heard you went to Dr. Sullivan, how is she?”

The unexpected question caught you off guard, making you pause for a moment. You mentally retraced the events of the past couple of weeks, remembering Christian’s subtle recommendation of her after you had opened up about needing help navigating through your toxic ex.

“She’s helped quite a bit, actually, thanks for advising her to me," you replied, your voice a touch softer, a touch more genuine than you had intended.

He was trying, wasn't he?, you thought, even though the knot in your stomach stubbornly remained, a reminder of all that had happened.

A beat of a pause, then Christian stated, "Good, just so you know she will tell me if there is something serious going on," he warned, a playful seriousness lacing his tone.

A genuine chuckle escaped your lip, a small burst of the old you that you hadn’t seen in a while, "What? Are you my dad or something? I think I'm old enough to go talk to my therapist." you joked, your eyes sparkling in laughter. 

“I might as well be the closest to it,” he replied, a quiet tenderness coloring his features. His lips curled into a small smile, a fondness you hadn’t seen in a long time.

The roar of the crowd was a distant hum as you peeled off your racing gloves, the leather still warm from the day's practice. Friday had been a revelation.

You’d practically glided around the track, the car feeling like an extension of your own body. No jitters, no second-guessing, just pure, unadulterated speed.

You’d attributed it to the release, the feeling of all the mounting stress finally draining out of you, leaving you light and free. You’d finally found your rhythm.

“Good run today,” a voice rumbled from behind you. You turned to see Max, his usual calm demeanor etched across his face. He leaned against the garage wall, a half-smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, it was…good,” you echoed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

You liked seeing him like this - relaxed, confident, not burdened by the weight of expectations. “Felt like I could finally breathe out there.”

“You looked like it,” he chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking towards you to look at the data. “You were practically flying.”

You blushed, a little embarrassed by his observation. “Well, someone had to put on a show,” you teased, throwing a playful punch at his arm.

His gaze met yours, a flicker of something undefinable sparking in his usually placid blue eyes.

“You always put on a show, don’t worry,” he said softly, as he turned away, the comment hanging in the air between you, leaving you breathless and confused.

Saturday was an entirely different beast. The pressure had returned, tangible and heavy. It was in the air, in the hushed tones of the team, in the nervous energy buzzing around the paddock.

Max, however, seemed unfazed. He’d stormed through qualifying, each lap faster, more precise, culminating in a blistering pole position. You, on the other hand, had struggled to match his pace, despite your best efforts.

Third place wasn't bad, but it felt miles behind him.

The team, of course, was ecstatic. This was it. The culmination of years of hard work, the potential for a historic double victory hung heavy in the air.

If Max won tomorrow, he’d secure his second championship. And if you managed to finish in the points, Red Bull was so close to clinching the constructors’ title.

It was a monumental task, a pressure cooker of emotions.

"Mate! I swear you are so in love with her," Charles declared, leaning back against a wall, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Max's face flushed, a telltale sign that his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance was crumbling. "No, I'm not. I just... care for her," he stammered, avoiding Charles's gaze.

He busied himself with holding the red bull in his hands , anything to distract from the intensity of his friend’s scrutiny.

Charles chuckled, a low, knowing sound. "Right, 'care'. Do you think about her too often?"

Max hesitated, his mind flashing to recent moments: her reaching for something on a high shelf, the way her hair caught the sunlight as she walked across the paddock, the way she’d smiled after he'd helped her with the data.

He felt a heavy knot settle in his stomach. He let out a breath, resigned. "...Yeah," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

"Do you think you're protective of her?" Charles continued, pressing his advantage.

Max frowned. The word felt too strong, too possessive, not that that’s not exactly how he felt. “Not protective, but I like to be by her," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the ground as if the answers lay hidden in the cracks of the pavement.

He didn't want to be protective, he just wanted to be someone she could rely on, someone she could turn to.

Suddenly, Charles’s voice boomed, startling Max, “Oh hey, y/n!” he said, waving enthusiastically at someone behind Max.

Max's head snapped around, a strange mix of hope and panic surging through him. He nearly twisted his neck, trying to see if y/n was actually there, his hand instinctively moving to cover a nearby potted plant as he turned.

When he finally turned back, he found Charles doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach.

"I swear, you almost snapped your neck!" he gasped, tears forming in his eyes.

"Mate, not funny," Max grumbled, his cheeks burning hotter than before. He tried to ignore the way his heart was still pounding, a frantic hummingbird caught in his chest.

Charles wiped the tears from his eyes, his grin still wide. "But hey, I just did some tests on you, and I found out…" he paused for dramatic effect, raising his eyebrows.

"Found out what?" Max asked, his curiosity piqued despite his irritation.

"That you love her too much," Charles declared, his grin now bordering on mischievous. "You're a book, my friend. All the symptoms are there: the blushing, the constant thinking, the almost-neck snapping… It’s clear as day."

Max felt a knot of apprehension tighten in his chest.

He didn’t want Charles, or anyone else for that matter, to see the truth that was slowly coming to light. . . .

The roar of the crowd was a physical thing, a wave of sound that crashed over you as you unbuckled your helmet. The acrid smell of burnt rubber and hot metal hung heavy in the air of the parc fermé, a stark contrast to the champagne that would soon be flowing.

You pushed your helmet off, shaking your hair free, and your gaze immediately sought him. Max was already out of his car, his dark blue jumpsuit a beacon in the throng of team personnel and photographers.

His face, usually so tightly controlled, was lit with a grin that could rival the floodlights overhead. He’d done it.

Another championship secured.

A surge of warmth, something akin to pride and something more complicated, bloomed in your chest. It wasn't your win, but still, the sight of him like that—unburdened and triumphant—it was a sight you cherished.

You’d finished second, a bittersweet position after Lando's heartbreaking crash had bumped you up. The race had been a rollercoaster of emotions — tense overtakes, strategic tire changes, and then the shock of the yellow flags followed by the red.

You’d been locked in a tight battle with Lando, then suddenly, you were fighting to keep yourself in the second position. It felt hollow, a win by default.

But this was Max's moment, and you couldn't let the disappointment of your near-miss dull his shine. You pulled off your gloves and pushed through the crowd, a smile firmly plastered on your face.

Your eyes met his the moment he turned, and you noticed the flash of something akin to relief cross his features.

He pushed through the few team members still trying to reach him, making a beeline directly towards you.

“You did it!” you exclaimed, your voice a little higher than usual, the adrenaline still coursing through you. “Two-time champion! That’s incredible, Max!”

He engulfed you in a bear hug, his familiar scent of aftershave and something indefinable that was purely his filling your senses. He smelled like victory.

"Thank you," he said into your shoulder, his voice roughened by exertion.

"It was... it was a good race.” He pulled back, his hands still resting lightly on your arms. His blue eyes, usually so sharp, were filled with an uncharacteristic softness.

"You were fast out there, too. Second place after Lando… that sucks. But you did amazing to pick up the position so quickly.”

“It's okay,” you said, shrugging, though a small pang of disappointment still lingered. "It's your day, though. You deserve all the celebration.”

He shook his head. "No, not just mine. You fought hard. We both did.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering.

“You always do.” The way he said it, so intimately, sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost as if he was saying something more than the literal words.

The photographers closed in, cameras flashing, and the moment was broken. Team members swarmed around Max, pulling him away for interviews and podium preparations.

You reluctantly stepped back, watching as he was swallowed by the throng. Your heart gave a funny little flutter, a feeling you tried to ignore, chalking it up to the adrenaline.

You were herded towards your own team, receiving pats on the back and words of encouragement. You went through the motions, half-listening to the congratulations, your eyes still straying towards Max.

He had finally broken away from Christian's chatter and was standing beside the race engineers, a small smile playing on his lips as he listened intently to their debrief.

You saw something flicker in his gaze when he caught your eye, a moment of shared understanding in the chaotic aftermath.

Later, during the post-race press conference, you answered questions distractedly, your mind still replaying Max's words, his touch.

You managed to give coherent answers, but the only thing you could remember was his voice resonating in your ears - “You always do.”

The podium was a blur. You remember the flash of the camera lights, the sea of upturned faces, and the deafening roar of the crowd. You stared at Max out of the corner of your eye as his national anthem played, his expression a mix of pride and exhilaration.

He looked utterly invincible, a king on his throne. And then it was your turn. The second place you took made you happy, but you felt like you could have done better.

Your own anthem played, and you tried to soak it in, but your eyes were drawn to Max again.

The champagne spraying was chaotic, a shower of bubbly and laughter. You decided to target Max first, aiming your stream directly at him, catching him in the chest.

He laughed, the sound loud and genuine, and retaliated in kind, soaking your jumpsuit in the sticky liquid. It was playful, a moment of shared joy and release, and you couldn't help but laugh with him.

The roar of the crowd was still a physical presence, thrumming in your chest even as the lights of the Las Vega circuit began to dim. It was a cacophony of joy, fueled by the sheer adrenaline of the race and the history that had just unfolded.

Max, his face flushed with victory, stood beside you, the sweat still clinging to his dirty blond hair, his breath coming in slightly ragged pants. Around you, the Red Bull crew was a sea of red and navy, their faces lit by pure, unadulterated elation.

You stood shoulder to shoulder, each of you holding one end of the banner that proclaimed "2X Champion Max P1 Y/N P2." You couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride despite coming in second.

The banner was a testament to your shared journey, the countless hours you both had poured into this season, culminating in this euphoric, unforgettable moment.

"Alright everyone, let's get this photo!" an admin yelled, their voice barely audible over the lingering cheers. "In 3, 2, 1!"

The number one was still hanging in the air when, with a collective roar, everyone erupted, and suddenly, a downpour of champagne came from nowhere. It cascaded down on you and Max, the cold liquid instantly soaking through your fireproofs, leaving you shivering and laughing at the same time.

You and Max, without a word, instinctively turned and ran, the wet track presenting a new, slippery challenge. It was pure chaos, a beautiful, ridiculous mess of laughter and celebration.

Just as your feet were about to slip out from under you on the slick asphalt, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back and steadying you. It was Max, his face close to yours, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Careful now,” he chuckled, his voice warm and low and suddenly, too close for your heart’s liking.

And then, the rest of the crew descended, a joyful, champagne-soaked mob, trapping you both in a giddy, bubbly circle. They all cheered, spraying you mercilessly, their laughter adding to the symphony of the night.

You found yourself looking into Max's eyes, a small smile mirroring his own. In that crowded, chaotic moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. The world melted away into the blurry, bubbly frenzy.

You had grown to admire him, his unwavering focus and talent, the genuine kindness that he often hid behind his competitive façade. You enjoyed his teasing, his relentless drive, and the rare, unguarded moments when his vulnerability surfaced.

You were brought back to reality as the champagne deluge began to subside. You were both drenched, your hair plastered to your scalp, your clothes clinging to your skin.

“Well that was… intense,” you finally managed, laughing, the bubbles still tickling your nose.

Max’s arm was still around your waist, his touch sending shivers not from the cold. He finally released you, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “Intensely fun, I’d say. You know, you almost took your own personal dive out there.” He grinned, playfully nudging you with his shoulder.

“Almost,” you retorted, shoving him back, a playful smile gracing your lips. “You weren’t much better. I saw you sliding like you were on ice.”

“Hey,” he protested, a mock hurt look on his face, “I recovered, didn’t I? Showed my champion agility.”

“Sure, champion agility while grabbing my waist so I won’t fall,” you teased, “I think you were just trying to feel me up.”

Max’s eyes opened wide and a small blush tinted his cheeks. “Hey, I was only trying to be a gentleman. You’re the one with the dirty mind.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, the sound echoing in the near-silent garage. “Yeah right. You just wanted an excuse for an embrace.”

“Well, you’re not rejecting it are you?”

“No,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Did you say something?” Max asked, leaning closer to you with a smirk playing on his lips.

“No, I said, let’s get out of these wet clothes,” you said quickly, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Good idea. I'm starting to feel like a drowned rat," he said, running a hand through his now-soaked hair.

He walked away and you followed behind him, your heart beating faster with every step closer to the driver’s room where you could finally dry yourself up.

The walk back was a bit surreal. It seemed like just moments ago, the tension had been so thick you could cut it with a knife. Now, there was this quiet ease between you two, a strange, comfortable bubble of celebration.

You found yourself stealing glances at Max, his still-damp hair forming tiny curls on his forehead, his shoulders relaxed, the weight of the race finally lifted.

He caught your gaze once, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips, and you quickly looked away, your cheeks burning.

"You’re coming to the party after this, right?" he asked as he veered towards his driver’s room door, breaking the quiet. His voice was low, a little rough, but the easy tone sent a flutter through your stomach.

“The party?” you repeated, pretending to be surprised, even though you knew about it.

The team always celebrated after a big race, but for some reason, the idea of being in the same room as him, surrounded by the celebratory energy, was a little overwhelming.

“Yeah, the team’s hosting a private party. Everyone is invited, including you, so you better come,” he stated, a hint of playfulness in his tone. He paused, looking at you, his bright eyes sparkling with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"I don't know..." you started, your fingers nervously fiddling. You were desperate not to sound too eager, not to betray the feeling he had evoked so easily.

Your mind was a whirlwind of "yes, of course" and "no, it's too much", with the scales of indecisiveness tilting back and forth.

"That's not the right answer," Max said, his smile widening. He leaned against the doorframe, blocking your path, making it impossible for you to just brush it off, and your heart skipped a beat.

He was so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, and your brain seemed to have shut off, making it near impossible to form a coherent response.

"After a win like this, you should be celebrating with us. Besides," he lowered his voice, "I want you there."

The confession sent a shockwave through you. He wanted you there? Your mind reeled from the casual yet charged statement.

Was it just a friendly gesture, or did that small ‘want’ mean something more? You desperately hoped it was the latter, but pushed the thought aside so you wouldn't get ahead of yourself.

"Okay," you said, the word barely a whisper, and you felt a blush stain your cheeks. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"Great," he said, finally stepping aside and opening his door. "I’ll see you there then. Don't take too long getting ready." He winked and disappeared inside, leaving you standing there with a pounding heart and a stupid grin.

You finally made your way to your own room, the encounter playing over and over in your mind. He wanted you there. Those words kept echoing in your head. You tried to tell yourself it didn't mean anything, but deep down, you knew it did.

At least, you wanted to believe it did.

You stood in the bathroom, the steam from the shower wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You replayed the final buzzer in your mind, the roar of the crowd, and most importantly, the triumphant grin on Max’s face.

You hurried through the shower, your mind already racing to the night ahead. You quickly dried off, pulling a simple yet elegant black dress from your closet. It was the kind of dress that made you feel confident, yet effortless.

You smoothed it down, adjusted the delicate straps and quickly put on a pair of small heels; a last-minute addition to make it feel more celebratory.

Then, as you were putting on your lipstick, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Max, a single line: ’Club Zenith. See you there’ followed by an address. You grinned, your heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again.

You grabbed your keys and bag, rushing out of your apartment and hailing a taxi. The ride felt like an eternity, each traffic light a cruel delay. You kept glancing at your reflection in the side window.

You hoped the dress was ok and worried about whether it made you look too overdressed.

Finally, the taxi pulled up in front of Club Zenith. The bass thrummed even outside, a low vibration that resonated through you. Taking a deep breath, you paid the driver and stepped out, the city lights creating a dazzling backdrop to the building.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived. The club pulsed with a chaotic energy, a symphony of music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. You scanned the crowd, your eyes searching for Max amidst the throng of people.

And then you saw him, across the room, surrounded by a boisterous group of his teammates. He was laughing, his head thrown back, and you couldn't help the little surge of emotion that coursed through you.

He looked genuinely happy, relaxed, and a wave of affection washed over you. You took a deep breath and started to make your way towards him, feeling a little out of place amidst their triumphant celebration.

He spotted you almost instantly. His face lit up, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He excused himself from his group, making a beeline towards you.

“There you are,” he said, his voice a little louder to cut through the music. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you said, offering a small smile, surprised at how calm your voice sounded when inside you were a whirlwind of nerves and excitement.

“Good,” he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment. “Come meet some people.” He gently placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you further into the crowd.

The touch was brief, but it sent an electric current through you, and you found yourself struggling to focus on the new faces and introductions he was making.

You were acutely aware of his proximity, the warmth of his skin, the subtle scent of his cologne.

The rest of the night was a kaleidoscope of conversations, laughter, and stolen glances with Max. You were introduced to his team members, their partners and friends who had flown in to see his victory.

He kept you close, making sure you were included, offering you a quick smile when he caught your eye across the room. He seemed so comfortable, so at ease, and his presence had a strange calming effect on you. You found yourself relaxing too, finally letting go of the nervous energy that had plagued you all day.

As the night wore on, the crowd thinned slightly, and the music became a little less frenetic. You stood by the bar with Max, the flashing lights reflecting in his eyes making them seem even brighter.

“So, how does it feel?” you asked, leaning against the bar, a playful smile on your lips.

“How does it feel?” he echoed, tilting his head as he thought about it. “Pretty awesome, actually. A bit surreal. All that work, all those hours... and it paid off.”

“You earned it,” you said, nudging his arm with your shoulder. He deserved this, every single cheer, every congratulatory hug. You knew how hard he’d worked. “You did an amazing job.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You did a great job too.”

You laughed, a warm, melodious sound that filled the space between you. “Thanks Max.”

He glanced over to the bartender, quickly catching their attention. “Do you want a drink?” Max asked, having already grabbed a glass of virgin cocktail for himself.

“What, like a gin and tonic?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. He always joked about how predictable your choice of drink was to his.

He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made your heart flutter. “Sure! I’ll make it if you want?” He was grinning now, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Really?” you asked, feigning surprise. “You, mixing drinks? I’m not sure if anyone is ready for that.”

“Hey!” he protested, playfully shoving your arm. “I’m a man of many talents. Bartender extraordinaire is just one of them.”

“Alright, I’ll bite,” you said, trying to hide a smile. “Surprise me.”

He grinned, turning to the bar and asking the bartender for the necessary ingredients. He poured carefully, a concentrated look on his face, as if he were performing brain surgery rather than mixing a simple cocktail.

You watched him, your heart swelling with a strange mixture of affection and admiration. You liked him, more than just a friend. You always had, but you tried to just push it aside and appreciate his friendship instead. Tonight, that felt harder than usual.

He finished the drink, sliding it towards you with a flourish. “Ta-da! One custom-made gin and tonic, served with the finest victory vibes.”

You took the glass, a light smile playing on your lips. “I’m impressed,” you said, taking a sip. “Not bad, Max. Not bad at all.”

He leaned closer, his arm brushing against yours. “Only the best for you,” he said, his voice dropping to a low hum.

The proximity made your skin tingle and you found yourself focusing on the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light.

You glanced around, realizing that most of the other partygoers had started to leave. “It’s getting late,” you said, your voice a little breathless.

“Yeah, it is,” he murmured, his gaze locked on yours. “But we don’t have to go home just yet.”

There was a pause, a silent question hanging in the air between you. You knew what he meant and a thrill ran through you. Your breath hitched slightly, your heart fluttering like a trapped bird.

You took another sip of your drink and decided to just go for it. "No," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music. "We don't."

He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that reached his eyes. He took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, sending another shockwave through your body.

"Then let's not," he said, his voice soft and intimate.

You'd made your rounds, offering sincere praises to the team, sharing in the collective joy, but your eyes kept drifting back to Max. He was sitting on a plush, low-slung chair, a small island of relative calm amidst the boisterous revelry, waiting for your return.

You felt a peculiar pull towards him, an audacity bubbling beneath the surface that you couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was the celebratory atmosphere, the heady mix of adrenaline and alcohol, or perhaps it was something else entirely.

You weren't sure. You just knew you wanted to be closer to him, to break through the polite camaraderie and truly connect. As your conversation with a team mechanic finally wound down, your gaze locked with Max’s.

A small, almost hesitant smile graced his lips, and something in you snapped. Impulsively, you walked towards him, your movements feeling both deliberate and strangely detached.

You settled onto his thigh, facing him, your gaze unwavering. His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise – and something else you couldn't quite name – registering in their deep blue depths.

You saw his jaw clench slightly, a subtle reaction that only fueled your newfound audacity.

"Are you drunk?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

It was a gentle question, laced with amusement and a hint of something more.

"Nope," you grinned, your heart beating a little faster. You leaned closer, the scent of his cologne, a crisp, masculine fragrance, filling your senses.

"Are you?" you teased, your voice a low murmur, your eyes locking with his.

His reaction was immediate and utterly captivating. You watched as a subtle panic flickered across his features, a blush rising to his cheeks. He looked away for a split second, trying to regain composure.

"No, I'm driving you to mines, Christian orders," he stated, his voice laced with a kind of frustrated urgency that made you want to laugh.

"Oh," you said, a playful smirk twitching your lips. "So, you're the designated driver for the night's festivities?"

He nodded, his gaze returning to yours, a hint of amusement replacing the initial panic. "Something like that."

The air crackled between you, charged with unspoken words and a palpable electricity. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, toying with a man who held a significant spot in your heart, and the fact that he was so close was making your heart beat faster.

You leaned in a little more. You could practically feel the warmth radiating off of him. It was an action you wouldn't have considered if it wasn't for how you were feeling at that moment.

"And what if I didn't want to go home just yet?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the din of the party.

His eyes narrowed, their blue depths swirling with something akin to confusion and desire. He swallowed hard, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"Then what, exactly, would you propose we do?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper, tinged with a raw edge that made your pulse race.

You took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne filling your lungs and somehow making you feel braver than you had any right to. “Can I kiss you?” you dared to ask, the words tumbling out, a little too quick, a little too raw.

Max looked shocked. His jaw went slack, and his eyes widened in surprise, a comical contrast to his usual cool demeanor. He glanced around at his team, a quick sweep of the room, his fingers drumming nervously on the armrest of the couch.

“What if it gets out? I don’t want to have another rumour for you to deal with,” he said, his voice strained with concern.

The mention of the tabloids and the gossip columns made your stomach twist. You hated the way they hounded him, invading every aspect of his life.

“They won’t, it’s a private club, everything that happens here stays here,” you muttered, willing yourself to be confident, willing him to believe you.

He looked back at you, his gaze searching yours, trying to gauge your sincerity, your intentions. Then, he sighed, a mixture of resignation and anticipation in his posture.

"Just…one," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You barely registered his words before you leaned in, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your thumb caressing the line of his jaw. The feather-light touch on your lips sent a jolt through you, a feeling that was both electrifying and incredibly comforting.

His lips were warm, soft, and tentatively seeking. The kiss was gentle, a tentative exploration, a silent question. It was the first time your lips were meeting, but you immediately knew that it wouldn’t be the last.

When you moved back, Max was completely red under the lights, a blush that spread across his cheeks, traveling down his neck. He looked like a teenager caught with his hand in the cookie jar, his ears flushed a deep crimson.

He quickly tucked his head into your neck, his arms wrapping around you, holding your back from not falling off his lap.

You chuckled, a soft, gentle sound, while rubbing his exposed neck, the skin warm and velvety to the touch. “See, it wasn't that hard,” you said, your voice light and teasing.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Max muttered, placing a kiss on your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth against your skin. His grip on you tightened, as if afraid you would disappear.

You smiled into his hair, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the club's temperature.

You didn’t notice the rest of the team watching from afar, their faces lit up with knowing smiles. They’d seen the way you looked at each other, the way you moved together, the way you were drawn to each other like magnets.

They had all quietly placed bets on when you two would finally get together. As you kissed, they all knew that tonight, finally, their wait, and yours, was over. . . .

You didn't see the rest of the team observing, their faces conspiratorial in the dim light, their eyes flicking between you and Max like they were watching a tennis match.

They saw the subtle shifts – your body angling towards him, the lingering touch of his hand on your arm, the way your smiles seemed to mirror each other. They saw the unspoken tension, the pull that was as undeniable as it was unspoken.

Bets had been placed, whispered predictions of when the inevitable would finally occur. They watched, breaths held, as Max's face drew closer, as his gaze locked onto yours and, finally, as he kissed you.

The rest of the team exchanged triumphant looks and knowing nods. Tonight, they thought, it was finally happening.

But the next morning, everything was different. Or rather, nothing was. As you walked into the office, the memory of the kiss felt like a dream, fuzzy and distant.

You greeted Max with a casual "Hey Max," and he responded in kind. The ease of the club had vanished, replaced by a self-conscious awkwardness.

The team, however, their eyes full of expectation, watched you both carefully, a sense of bewilderment slowly creeping into their expressions. They’d been so certain.

The weeks that followed were a masterclass in miscommunication wrapped in a cloak of hesitation. You and Max acted as if that night had never happened.

There were stolen glances, moments of near-confession, but always, someone would pull back. It was torture to watch, the team felt. A silent, agonizing dance of ‘what ifs’ and unspoken desires.

You walked into the conference room for what you assumed was a regular weekly meeting, only to find the team looking at you with an odd mix of excitement and exasperation. The air was thick with tension, but not the same, nervous tension you were used to. This was more akin to a pot about to boil over.

Then came your birthday.

The roar of the crowd was a physical thing, washing over you in waves as you stood there, the sun beating down on the asphalt. You held onto the haphazard collection of presents, a ridiculous tiara perched precariously on your head, a bright pink sash proclaiming you "Birthday Girl" draped across your shoulder.

Lando had a knack for finding the gaudiest tiaras, and George and Alex… well, they were always the purveyors of ridiculous humor. The balloons were back in the paddock, along with the suspiciously large cake Carlos and Fernando had promised, but at least these little tokens of affection were portable.

“How does it feel racing here on your birthday?” The interviewer’s voice cut through the noise, microphone hovering near your lips. You tried to smile, knowing the cameras were trained on you, the world watching.

“It’s… surreal,” you admitted, adjusting the tiara that threatened to slip over your eyes. “It’s always surreal to race, but on my birthday it’s… heightened, I guess.”

You laughed, a nervous sound, and gestured to the gifts you clutched. “It’s pretty special. I’m definitely feeling the love from the whole pit lane today.”

“The fans call you the grid’s princess, how does that make you feel wearing all these gifts from the grid?” they pressed, their pen poised above their notepad.

You felt your cheeks flush, a familiar warmth spreading up your neck. The “grid princess” moniker was a bit embarrassing, if you were honest, but it was also… endearing. “It’s… it’s kind of funny, actually,” you said, the word catching in your throat.

“I definitely don’t feel like a princess, especially not today in my race suit with my helmet. But I appreciate the sentiment. I think some of the guys might be taking it a bit too literally,” you added, glancing at the sash with humor in your eyes.

You could see Max speaking to Carlos in the distance from where you stood. You knew he was probably watching, the cameras probably on him too as he waited for his turn on the interview, observing.

He hadn't given you a present, not in the public eye anyway. He'd just given you a quick nod, a small smile at breakfast, then he'd gotten straight back to his pre-race routine.

You knew he was focused, that he wouldn't be distracted, and you respected that massively.

The interviewer asked one more question about your expectations for the race. You rattled off the usual platitudes about doing your best, about hoping for a clean race, about the challenges of the circuit.

But your mind kept drifting back to Max. His silence. His focus. You wanted to know what he was thinking.

Finally, the interview wrapped up, and you were released back into the controlled chaos of the grid. You made your way through the throng of people, the tiara feeling increasingly ridiculous, the sash a reminder of your self-proclaimed princess status.

As you approached the garage, you saw him. He was standing by his car, his back to you, but you recognized the set of his shoulders, the slight tilt of his head.

You took a deep breath, smoothing down your racing suit with a slightly trembling hand. "Hey," you said, your voice a little softer than you intended.

He turned, his gaze momentarily snagging on the tiara before meeting your eyes. A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Happy birthday,” he said, his voice low, a rumble that vibrated somewhere deep inside you.

"Thanks," you replied, feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach. You felt self-conscious now you had closed the distance and were near him.

You didn't want to be just the grid's princess, you wanted to be seen by him. You subconsciously adjusted the garish pink sash, feeling your cheeks warm again.

"I almost didn't recognise you," Max said, his eyes flicking back to the tiara. He was trying to be light, you could tell, but you were still hyper aware.

You were desperate to not talk about the race. The pressure of the constructors hung heavy in the air, a silent weight that clung to everyone.

“You haven’t given me a present. Did I do something wrong?” You tried to sound as light and joking as possible, trying to hide the undertone of insecurity in your tone.

“I don’t know, did you?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile anyway. He always managed to make you smile.

"Maybe," you replied, matching his playful tone, "but I'm going to assume it's because you're holding out for something really special."

His smile widened, a genuine flash that made your breath catch in your throat. You'd known that smile for years; the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the slight lift of his lips that could make your heart feel like it was about to beat out of your chest.

"I'll give it to you after the race if you do good," he said, his gaze holding yours. The promise in his voice, the way he said it felt like more than just a casual comment.

You felt your cheeks flush. "You're being mysterious," you accuse, trying to sound unimpressed. But the truth was, your heart was pounding.

You knew he wasn’t a particularly sentimental person, but the anticipation of a gift from him, something chosen specifically for you, was intoxicating.

"Maybe," he said again, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Or maybe I just haven’t figured out how to wrap it yet."

You laughed, the sound light and free. With him, you found yourself capable of being yourself, something you appreciated so much.

“I hope it’s not a giant stuffed panda,” you quipped, referencing a childhood incident involving a particularly large stuffed animal and a rather embarrassing photo that still surfaced at family gatherings.

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. It was a sound that was both familiar and yet still managed to set your stomach fluttering.

"No pandas, I promise. It's something a bit more…fitting." He let the words hang in the air, his gaze lingering on you.

The conversation was interrupted by the final call for the race. A wave of nervous energy coursed through you. You could feel the adrenaline starting to kick in.

You knew you needed to focus, put everything aside and race, but the thought of his ‘present’ after the race was intoxicating.

“I should go,” you said, a touch of reluctance in your voice. You wanted to stay, to keep talking, to continue basking in the warmth of his smile.

“Good luck,” he said. “I expect you to be fast out there.”

“Only if you are,” you retorted, a competitive edge creeping into your voice. “Wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of having it any other way,” he replied.

He watched you walk away, a smile playing on his lips again, his eyes lingering on you as you made your way towards your car.

The roar of the engine is a symphony in your ears, a familiar comfort in the chaos of the race. The world is a blur of color and motion, the other cars mere obstacles in your relentless pursuit of the finish line.

But there’s something else today, something that ignites a fire in your belly, a drive that transcends the normal ambition. A birthday present, he’d called it, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The way he’d said it—the husky tone, the knowing look—had sent a shiver down your spine, a thrilling anticipation that has nothing to do with the race itself.

You glance at the rear-view mirror, more out of a subconscious need than any real tactical advantage. You know he’s there, somewhere behind you, always pushing, always a threat.

It’s a dance you’ve performed countless times, a delicate balance of rivalry and respect, but today, there’s something more. Today, there’s an undercurrent of something… warmer.

You can almost feel him, a presence that is both challenging and strangely comforting.

Your engineer, Joseph, crackles in your ear. “Pace is good, you’re opening the gap. Stay focused, you’re looking strong.” You acknowledge him, but your mind is elsewhere.

You steal another look at the mirror and can just make out his car, a flash of red in the periphery. His presence on the track is a tangible thing, a constant hum of energy that vibrates through you, as if he’s tethered to you by an invisible string.

The laps blur, each one bringing you closer to the finish, closer to the promise that awaits. You push harder, the engine screaming in response, every fiber of your being focused on the road ahead.

The final lap. Your heart is pounding in your chest, a frantic rhythm that matches the engine's roar. The checkered flag waves, a triumphant black and white blur.

You cross the line, a surge of adrenaline and relief coursing through you. You did it. You won. And on your birthday, no less.

You pull into parc fermé, the roar of the crowd a deafening wave. The team is waiting, a sea of familiar faces, cheering and clapping. You are surrounded by hugs and congratulations, the energy infectious.

You're grinning, almost giddy with the win, but your eyes are searching, looking for one particular face. He's not here yet. You know he's coming, he's been in the car behind you the whole time and the thought is not as frustrating as you thought it should be.

Max is a few minutes behind, which is strange. Typically he’s right there.

You pull off your helmet, the noise of the crowd becoming a little clearer. You feel a hand on your shoulder. "You were incredible out there today," Joseph tells you, still wide-eyed from the race.

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside of you. "I had to be, after all." You glance to the side to see if you can see Max anywhere.

The next few minutes pass in a whirlwind of celebrations, wild yelling, team members patting you on the back and laughing. The victory is sweet, especially on your birthday.

You keep your eye on the road where Max will arrive, and finally, you see his car pulling it. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the giddy fluttering in your chest.

He pulls up to the stall next to you, and gets out of the car, pulling off his helmet. He looks a little frustrated, but when he sees you he smiles. It's a small smile, not the ones he does for the cameras.

It's a smile that makes your heart soften a bit. He walks over, his eyes sparking with something that seems suspiciously like amusement.

"Second place isn't bad, eh?" he says, his voice a low rumble that sends another shiver down your spine.

You raise an eyebrow. “Second place for you is like admitting defeat, isn't it?” you joke, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that makes you want to hear it again. "Only when I'm behind you,” he says, his eyes locking with yours.

The words hang in the air, charged with an undercurrent that you can’t ignore.

Before you could formulate a response to his suggestive comment, another car pulled up. It was Lewis, a smile on his face. He seemed happy enough with his third-place position.

“Great race,” Lewis said, dabbing you up with his fist. “Also, happy birthday,”

“Thanks, Lewis,” you grinned before letting him go. You chugged down some water, and placed the Red Bull hat on your head, making sure the logo was front and centre, before making your way over to the interview area.

"Y/N! how does it feel winning on your birthday?!" Nico asked cheerfully, holding the microphone up to you.

"It's amazing! I'm so incredibly happy, what a way to celebrate!" you said, the smile on your face was honest and you knew it was genuine. Winning a race was always an incredible feeling, but winning on your birthday was an extra special type of happiness.

"Have you gotten everything you wanted?" Nico asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Well, I've gotten everything I could ever want. A win, lovely fans, and a great car! I'm expecting a gift from Max though, he might not give it to me because he lost against me," you teased, glancing to your side to see Max grinning at your comment, giving a thumbs up.

Your heart did a little flip as you made eye contact with him.

"Well, I'm sure he will get you something," Nico chuckled before turning back to you. "So, talk me through the race, what was the turning point?"

You went on to talk about the race, the specific moments where you pulled ahead, the strategies that had paid off. You could feel Max’s eyes on you as you spoke, making it difficult to concentrate, but, you managed to get through it. You smiled at the camera as Nico finished the interview and thanked you.

Suddenly, amidst the cheering of the crowd, a familiar melody filled the air. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." The crowd started singing, their voices a wave of happy noise washing over you.

Your eyes darted around, a smile spreading across your face. This was such a beautiful moment, you felt overwhelmed with joy.

You looked over to see Max looking at you, and he had a soft gaze, which made your heart melt. He mouthed 'Happy Birthday', and you felt a small blush rise to your cheeks.

After the official ceremonies, the post-race frenzy began to settle, you found yourself heading towards the Red Bull hospitality area, the buzz of the celebrations still clinging to you.

The air was thick with the smell of champagne and victory, a potent cocktail of exhilaration. You were just about to grab a drink, to raise a toast to the day, when you felt a hand on your arm, gently turning you around. Your eyes met a staff member, her smile warm and inviting.

"Hello, Y/N," she said sweetly, her voice cutting through the remaining noise, "Christian told me to come get you."

A small knot of curiosity tightened in your stomach.

You nodded, a slight question mark hanging in your eyes, and followed her.

She led you away from the main throng, down a corridor you hadn't noticed before. The air grew quieter, the noise of the celebration fading with each step. You found this space intriguing.

Then the staff member pushed a door open and you stepped inside a dark room, a confused frown creasing your forehead. Before you could even form a question, the lights went on.

"SURPRISE!" a chorus of voices yelled. You blinked, suddenly blinded by the brightness, before your vision adjusted and you took in the scene.

There they were, all of them: Sarah, the engineers, the mechanics, even some of the other drivers, their faces alight with laughter and excitement, all shouting “Happy Birthday!”. It was almost too much to take in.

A wave of warmth spread through you, a warmth that had nothing to do with the recently illuminated room. This was… incredible. You’d been so focused on the race, so caught up in the pressure of the weekend that you'd almost forgotten about your birthday. To see so many people, people you worked with, people you considered friends, all gathered here, just for you... it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Christian stepped forward, a hand landing heavily yet affectionately on your shoulder. "We've been planning it for a while now," he said, his grin infectious. "We knew the race fell on your birthday, so we figured a little surprise was in order." He paused, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Thought you deserved something special."

You couldn't stop smiling. You knew he was right, this was something special. You spent the next little while weaving through the crowd, making small talk, thanking everyone profusely for their efforts.

From the enthusiastic pats on the back from the mechanics to the genuine smiles from the engineers, every moment was a balm to your heart. You received a thoughtful gift from Sarah, a personalized scrapbook with pictures of the both of you since you two started being friends, and shared a laugh with a few of the drivers as they teased you about how old you were getting.

Every gesture, however small, made you feel appreciated and valued, more than just a driver on the team. For the first time all week, you felt completely at ease.

But then, a nagging question began to form, a question you couldn't ignore. Amidst the cheers and congratulations, one face, a face you’d been hoping to see, was conspicuously absent.

Where was Max? You searched the room again, your eyes scanning the crowd, but he wasn’t there.

Finally, when you felt you could politely excuse yourself from the crowd, you found Christian standing by one of the tables. You approached him hesitantly, a hopeful lilt in your voice.

"Hey, Christian," you said, "this was amazing, seriously. I, uh, just had a question. Do you know where Max is?"

Christian's grin widened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Max is doing something in that room," he said, his voice a low murmur, pointing to a door at the far end of the corridor.

Then he winked, a gesture that made your stomach do a weird flip. "He said he had a 'special project' going on."

Your heart pounded in your chest. A ‘special project’? You nodded slowly, thanking him with a smile, but inside, anticipation was building. You began to walk towards the door, your steps feeling lighter than usual.

As you passed the others, you noticed their eyes were on you, their faces lit with knowing grins. Did they know something you didn’t?

A flush crept up your neck, your cheeks warming as you imagined what ‘special project’ Max could be working on.

You found yourself standing before the door, your hand hovering over the handle. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the flutter in your chest. 

You had no idea what to expect on the other side of this door, but the feeling of nervous excitement was almost overwhelming.

The anticipation had twisted your insides into a tight knot, but you decided you weren’t going to stand here all day. You turned the handle, and stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit, only a few scattered tea lights illuminating the space. The change from the bright, harsh lights of the paddock was disorienting for a moment.

You could hear soft music playing, something instrumental and calming, a melody that seemed to wrap around you like a warm hug. And in the center of the room, stood Max. He was facing away from you, his broad shoulders tense, his posture almost rigid.

He wasn't wearing his usual Red Bull shirt, instead opting for a simple black t-shirt. It was jarring to see him out of his racing suit - he looked almost vulnerable.

“Max?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. He turned around, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. He was holding a bouquet of vibrant red and blue roses, the colours stark against the soft light, and his face was… soft.

Not the usual hardened mask you were used to seeing on the racetrack, the intense focus replaced with something almost childlike. He looked nervous, almost hesitant. It was an expression you had never seen before.

His eyes, usually so intense, held a different kind of fire, a nervous vulnerability that made your heart do a strange little flip.

“Y/N!” he said, the usually booming voice tight with what you realized was panic. “These are for you,” He offered the bouquet, his hands trembling slightly.

You reached out and took them from him, your fingers brushing against his. The contact sent a shiver up your arm, not unpleasant, but definitely unexpected.

“Really? No one’s ever bought me flowers before,” you muttered, your voice a breathless whisper as you inhaled their sweet perfume.

The roses were a beautiful mix of classic red and a deep, almost electric, blue. It was unusual and completely fitting of the man who stood before you.

“Yeah, and there’s more,” he said, fixing his cap, a nervous gesture you recognized, though you couldn’t remember him ever being nervous before.

“Really? This is more than enough, you know,” you replied, feeling a tear prickle the corner of your eye. Not because you were sad, but because this unexpected gesture felt like something out of a movie.

Did this really happen to people? Did this happen to you?

“Nothing, of course, is enough for you, Y/N, you should know that,” Max stated with a small, genuine smile that sent a bolt of warmth right through you. His gaze was intense, locking onto yours, making the room feel smaller, more intimate.

You felt your cheeks flush once more, the warmth spreading across your skin. “I… I don’t know what to say.” You looked down at the roses, suddenly feeling flustered.

It was one thing to work alongside Max on the track, but this? This was completely different territory.

He stepped closer, and you looked up, your eyes meeting his. He was closer than he had ever been before. “Say you like them,” he said softly, his voice a husky murmur that echoed in the quiet room.

“I… I love them, Max. They’re beautiful,” you confessed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat and you felt that butterfly feeling flutter in your stomach.

You looked down at the bouquet again, the vibrant colours a stark contrast to the soft atmosphere of the room.

“Good. Cause I picked each one of them,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. He reached out and gently touched your arm. “Look, I… I’m not good at this. This whole… thing.”

You chuckled, a soft sound that echoed in the room. “You’re doing a pretty good job so far, Max,” you said, finding your voice as you looked up into his eyes again. “Flowers, soft music, dimmed lights… it’s all very… thoughtful.”

He let out a soft relieved exhale, his shoulders finally relaxing. “Thoughtful? That's good,” he said, “I was hoping for thoughtful. The guys told me I needed a ‘good vibe’ and they weren't specific of what that vague term meant."

He ran a hand through his hair, looking endearingly flustered. “Okay so… this isn’t just about flowers, Y/N.” His gaze intensified. “I asked you here… because… because I wanted you to know… that I like you. A lot. More than I like fast cars, maybe even more than winning. Which is saying something.”

Your breath hitched. The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected, and your mind scrambled to catch up. It wasn’t as if you hadn't felt something between you two, a subtle pull that resonated every time you were near, but to hear it spoken aloud, so candidly, so… him… it was a shock.

“Oh. Oh no, no no, you don't-” you stammered, your hand flying to your mouth.

“What?” Max said, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“You don’t want to like me, I am no good,” you blurted out, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

The admission felt like a confession of a dirty little secret you’d been holding onto for far too long. But it was true, look at what happened to Jake.

“But I do,” Max said, his gaze unwavering. He leaned forward slightly, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and concern.

“Yeah, no, I’m sorry, I can’t- you can’t,” you insisted, shaking your head, trying to force some sense back into the situation.

You could feel the panic rising in your chest, a familiar feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while, but now this.

“Why?” Max asked, his voice laced with genuine confusion. The easy laughter that usually danced in his eyes was completely gone.

"Because I said – I am no good!" you said, your voice rising with a touch of desperation. You wanted him to understand, you needed him to understand.

“What do you mean? I can’t just stop liking you because you told me to!” Max said, there was a glint of annoyance now, a sign that he was not going to give in easily.

He was the kind of man who went after what he wanted and that was becoming more apparent than ever.

“Well, you will have to! Because I don’t- I’m not doing this. You don’t get to just...throw this at me!” you said, your hand moving wildly in the air, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“W-what, now you’re just being mean, if you don’t like me just say so,” Max said, the confusion morphing into hurt, and it hurt you to see the hurt in his eyes as they looked into you.

“I do! -like you… And- and that’s the problem,” you whispered, the admission ripped raw and honest.

You hated how vulnerable you felt in this moment, how naked your emotions were, laid bare before him.

“What are you even saying, I don’t get it,” Max said, his voice laced with frustration. This conversation had taken a turn he certainly hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m saying we can’t, not right now, hell, not ever,” you said, the finality of the statement solidifying the fear that had been swirling in your stomach into a concrete truth.

You walked over to the nearest table and placed the bouquet down before walking to the door, your hands shaking as you reached for the door handle.

You could feel his gaze burning into your back, the weight of his confusion pushing down on your shoulders.

“Y/N, wait!” Max’s voice was behind you, but you kept walking faster now. You couldn’t let him see the tears that were threatening to spill, the vulnerability you guarded so fiercely.

You had to get away. You had to escape this room and the feelings it was causing, before you broke down completely.

“Please,” he said, his voice softer now, his steps quickening till he was right behind you, his gaze unwavering, “Just… explain. Tell me what’s going on. I… I don’t understand.” He was close now, almost too close, and you could feel yourself start to crumble.

You stopped, your hand still on the doorknob, and turned to face him. You searched his eyes, saw the genuine care there, the utter confusion. You knew you owed him that much, at least.

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to find the right words, the ones that could convey the turmoil inside you without completely breaking down.

“Max,” you began, your voice raw with emotion, “You… you’re amazing. You’re kind and funny and… and ridiculously talented. And that’s… that’s the problem.” The words felt inadequate, like they failed to capture the depth of your internal turmoil, but it was the best you could do.

His brow furrowed further. “But… I don’t understand. You’re saying I’m too… good for you? That’s ridiculous, Y/N.” He moved closer, his hand hovering near your arm, unsure if he should touch you.

“No, it’s not that!” You insisted, your voice cracking. “It’s… it’s me. I’m… messed up. I’m… a disaster waiting to happen. I ruin everything I touch, everything I care about.” You felt your throat tighten, your eyes burning with unshed tears.

“I can’t… I can’t do that to you. You deserve better. You deserve someone… someone who is not me.” The confession was like a dam breaking, the words pouring out, unfiltered and raw.

You’d finally said it. After weeks of agonizing, of rehearsing lines in your head, of second-guessing every feeling, you’d admitted your insecurities.

You’d spilled the messy truth about how you felt undeserving, how you believed that he, Max – kind, intelligent, and impossibly handsome Max – could, should, find someone better than you.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze unwavering, taking in the vulnerability that you were so desperately trying to hide. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, gentle, almost a whisper.

“Y/N,” he started, his own vulnerability showing through, "I don't understand where this is coming from. I know you are the kindest and most amazing woman I know." He paused, taking your hand in his, as though wanting to give you his strength. "I don't want better, I want you, just you."

“But…” you started, but the words caught in your throat, the weight of your fears and insecurities still present, but somehow… smaller, diminished by the way he spoke, the vulnerability he showed and how gently he held your hand.

“No buts,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips, that nervous, sweet smile that made your heart twist.

“Just… tell me what to do. Tell me what I need to prove to you. Give me, give us, a chance. Please.” His eyes sparkled with hope, pleading with you to just… trust him. Just a little bit.

You looked into his eyes and you knew that you couldn't walk away. You knew that this would most likely end up breaking you, hurt you in ways you couldn't imagine, but his eyes, they held you captive.

You had only one answer so you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to organize your thoughts, to be as transparent as possible.

“It’s not that I don’t want this, Max. I do.” You say, your voice is soft, hesitant. “I like you, I really like you so much that it scares me, a lot.” The truth hangs in the air, vulnerable and raw, and you brace yourself for his reaction. Any reaction but the one he gives you.

He doesn't flinch or pull away. Instead, he squeezes your hand and smiles, that disarming, melting smile. "I think, if we work through it together, we might just make it. I think, that if we try, you will see, that whatever you are going through, you don't have to go through it alone. I want to be there for you, through it all."

His words are like a balm, soothing the anxieties that have been gnawing at you. It's not just the words themselves, but the way he delivers them, the sincerity in his voice, the unwavering look in his eyes.

He's not promising you a fairytale, he understands that the reality will come with challenges. But he’s offering you companionship, partnership, in navigating those challenges together.

A small smile plays on your lips as you look at him, hope blossoming in your heart. Maybe this would work out. Maybe you could finally be happy. But the fear still lingers, a quiet voice whispering in the back of your mind.

“But… what if I mess it up? What if I’m not good enough?” Your voice is barely a whisper, the insecurities finally bubbling to the surface. You feel so vulnerable to his gaze and the way he carefully holds your hand, like you are a precious glass.

Max’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, a gentle, grounding motion. “Y/N, you are more than good enough. You are amazing. And we all mess up. That’s part of being human. The point is, being able to say you're sorry, learn from it, and continue to move forward. Besides, we’ll make mistakes together, learn and grow together.”

His smile widens, adding, “And who knows, maybe those mess-ups will be some of our best memories.” He chuckles, a sound that always makes your heart flutter.

You felt like crying again, a mix of relief and overwhelming emotion flooding through you. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, seeking comfort in his warmth.

“I'm sorry for trying to push you away,” you muttered against his skin, the words muffled.

Max rubbed your back, his touch light and comforting. “Don’t apologise after what you’ve been through. I, of course, was never going to let you go,” His voice was quiet, his sincerity palpable. You pressed closer to him, feeling incredibly safe in his arms.

The fear was still there, a low hum in the background, but it was now overshadowed by his presence.

You pulled back slowly, your cheeks flushing slightly. The boldness of the previous confession had temporarily left you, and suddenly shyness enveloped you.

You felt the flutter of your eyelashes, the nervousness of the moment. "Can... can I kiss you?" The question was soft, barely audible, but it hung in the air between you.

Max grinned, a radiant, dazzling expression that made your heart skip a beat.

"Of course, schat," His response was immediate, filled with affection. Schat. It was a term of endearment he often used, a Dutch word meaning "treasure" or "darling," and it always made you feel safe and cherished.

You moved towards him, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was slow and tender, a silent promise of forgiveness and understanding. It wasn't a passionate, desperate kiss, but a soft exploration, a gentle reaffirmation of the connection that had always been there, humming beneath the surface.

When you pulled back, your gaze locked with his, and you felt a warmth spread through you, dispelling some of the lingering fear.

“I like you, Max. A lot,” you said, your voice a little shaky, your cheeks still warm. You felt vulnerable, laying your feelings bare like this, but it also felt incredibly right.

He reached up, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I like you too, Y/N, more than you know,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with affection. He had waited patiently for you, had given you the space you needed, and had never once wavered in his affections.

You knew, without a doubt, that he was someone who would always be there, no matter how difficult things got.

A nervous energy seemed to buzz around him as he took in another breath, the kind that a teenager would have before asking his crush to prom.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, his voice laced with a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

You didn’t hesitate. You nodded, your smile widening as you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend,” you replied, the words flowing easily and naturally.

It felt as if that had always been the plan, like everything had been leading up to this very moment.

A relieved sigh escaped him, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth along your skin.

"Great," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Because your second present would have been awkward."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, silver object. It glinted in the dim light – a key.

“Max…” you started, confusion and a touch of incredulity mixing in your voice.

“It’s my house key, of course. You need a key to get in when I’m doing something else, like sim training,” he explained, his tone casual, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He offered the key to you, his eyes filled with an innocent earnestness.

That was the tipping point. The dam broke. You felt a lump form in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You were crying. Not the dramatic kind of crying, but the quiet, choked-up kind that comes from being overwhelmed by emotion.

“Schat! I’m sorry! Don’t cry,” Max said, his voice filled with concern. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. You buried your face in his neck, letting the tears fall freely.

His embrace was grounding, his hand gently stroking your back, a soothing rhythm against your trembling form.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, his voice soft and reassuring. "What is it? Did I say something wrong? I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sounded genuinely panicked, and a part of you felt guilty for making him worry.

You pulled back slightly, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. "No, no, it's not you," you managed to say, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… it’s a key, Max. And it’s such a... you thing to do.” You chuckled slightly, the sound shaky and watery.

He looked at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. “But you need a key to get in. I mean, what if you wanted to come over and I wasn’t home yet? I wouldn’t want you to be waiting outside.”

“That’s… exactly what I meant,” you said, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill. “You just… you think of everything.” The fact that he had already considered you needing the key, the fact that he was already thinking about you coming over and feeling safe… it was all just too much.

He looked at you as if he couldn't comprehend why you'd be crying at that, and that was the most endearing thing you had ever seen.

“I thought you wouldn’t like it,” he admitted, his voice small. “I wasn’t sure if it was too much, too soon. But… I really wanted you to have it. So you can feel like… you can feel like a home when I’m not home.”

His confession was raw, honest, and laced with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

You reached up and cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing gently against his cheekbones. "I love it, Max. I really love it," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "It's... it's more than I could have ever asked for."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not upset?” he asked, his voice still tinged with worry.

You shook your head, a genuine smile finally breaking through. “No, I’m not upset. I’m… overwhelmed. In the best way possible.” You paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, letting the reality of the moment sink in. “You���re amazing, Max.”

He mirrored your smile, his own eyes lighting up with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “So, the key?” he asked, holding it out again.

You took it from him, the metal cool against your palm. “It’s perfect,” you said, your gaze locking with his. “Thank you, Max.”

He pulled you close again, wrapping you in a tight, comforting embrace. "You're welcome, schat," he whispered, his voice muffled against your hair. "Does this mean you'll try my cooking for dinner this time. Since you'll have the key and all?"

You chuckled, leaning into his embrace. "Only if you promise not to set the kitchen on fire."

He pulled back, a playful glint in his eyes. "No promises, but I'll try my best," he said with a grin.

The dim room no longer felt oppressive, but warm and safe. The fear, the uncertainty, all seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a sense of belonging, of love, of home.

You held the key, not just a key to his house, but to his heart, and suddenly, everything felt right.

You reached the doorway and stepped out, the bouquet leading the way. You expected the hushed silence of an empty hall, perhaps the echo of distant conversations. What you didn't expect was the wall of faces that greeted you.

The entire hall, which you had assumed was deserted, was lined with people, their eyes all fixed on the corner where you and Max had emerged. Their expectant gazes, a mixture of delight and curiosity, made your cheeks flush with heat.

Silence hung heavy, thick with unspoken questions, then, like a dam bursting, the cheers erupted. Shouts, whistles, and clapping filled the hall, their collective voice a tidal wave of delighted celebration.

You felt your face grow hotter, and your grip tightened on the bouquet, the stems pressing into your palm. This was not how you envisioned this moment. You had expected the awkwardness to occur in the small room, not right here, under the scrutiny of a hundred pairs of eyes.

You turned, your gaze searching out Max behind you. He was a study in sheepish charm, his cheeks flushed a shade darker than yours, his eyes wide with a mix of apprehension and something that looked a lot like exhilaration.

He shuffled his feet for a moment, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, before meeting your gaze with that familiar, gentle smile of his.

"They helped me confess," he said, his voice a quiet murmur that barely reached your ears over the continuing cheers, "I… I didn’t think I could do it alone.” He looked away for a brief moment before looking back into your eyes. "They knew you were in the room."

The pieces clicked into place. The hushed whispers you’d overheard earlier, the strangely insistent nudging toward the small room, the seemingly innocent way to get you to Max – it had all been meticulously orchestrated.

Your first instinct was to feel embarrassed by the blatant manipulation, but the warmth in Max’s eyes melted your irritation away. They had done it for him, and for you.

They had recognized something before you had even allowed yourself to truly believe it.

"I... They did?" You managed, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt the bouquet tremble in your hand, its vibrant colours suddenly feeling like a spotlight on your face.

He nodded, a faint grin spreading across his face. He straightened his posture and looked at you with an earnest look on his face, "Yeah. I told them how I felt about you, and they all decided that I needed a little push."

He took a small step closer, his hands coming out of his pockets to gently rest on your arms. "I know it's kind of awkward right now but..."

"Awkward?" You laughed, a surprised sound that cut through the noise. "Max, the entire office is watching us, and they're practically throwing a party. This is beyond awkward."

He chuckled softly, his thumb gently stroking your arm. "Okay, maybe slightly more than awkward, but I wouldn't change it for anything. Not now that I can finally say that I’ve been completely and utterly smitten with you for months, now that you know, and now that you… well…”

He trailed off, his eyes shifting to the flowers you held before meeting your gaze again. “You said yes. In the room. Right?"

You felt a giddy warmth spread through your chest. You did say yes, didn’t you? It had all happened so fast, the nervousness, the confession, the kiss.

Your mind, still reeling, struggled to keep up with the rapid turn of events. You hadn't really processed the magnitude of it all, not yet, not with so many eyes on you.

"Yes, Max," you said, your voice steadier this time. "I said yes."

A grin bloomed across his face, lighting up his features. It was a grin you’d seen countless times, but this one, this one felt different, more intimate, reserved just for you.

"Well you can thank them if you want to," Max grinned, gesturing vaguely to the throng of people gathered behind him.

You heard laughter and some shuffling through the crowd before Lando and Charles appeared in front of you, their grins equally wide. Their appearance, and the knowing looks in their eyes, sent a fresh wave of bewildered warmth through you.

"Hey Y/N! I'm guessing he finally did it," Lando teased, nudging Max playfully in the ribs.

"No way! You knew too?" you asked, surprised. You had genuinely thought Max’s clumsy confession and the subsequent proposal were a spontaneous act, an outpouring of feelings he could no longer contain.

The revelation that it had been a calculated performance added another layer of bewilderment.

"Of course, I did! I helped with it the most," Lando declared proudly, puffing out his chest slightly.

Charles immediately scoffed. "No mate, I did," he said, matching Lando’s posture with narrowed eyes. He crossed his arms, clearly in the mood for a playful argument.

"Actually it was Daniel that thought of most of it," Max corrected, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched his friends bicker.

"Daniel?" you repeated, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Daniel Ricciardo? The notoriously jovial Australian was the mastermind behind this entire thing?

You were beginning to feel like you were living in some bizarre, slightly surreal rom-com.

Just then, the door opened from the other side of the room and a familiar voice boomed, "Heya! Am I too late?"

You turned to see Daniel standing in the doorway, his signature grin plastered on his face.

"Nope Daniel, you're just in time," Max yelled back, his voice full of genuine joy. The room was suddenly buzzing with life, with laughter and light, and you felt a strange sense of belonging, of being caught up in something bigger than just you and Max.

You took a shaky breath, grounding yourself in the reality of the moment. He was yours, and you, in a dizzying but wonderful twist of fate, were his.

"Okay, so here's the thing," Daniel started, clapping his hands together in a way that demanded attention. "Max came to us, months ago, practically begging for help. He was a lovesick puppy moping about how amazing you were and how he was too scared to actually do anything about it."

Your cheeks flushed crimson, the image of the usually confident Max reduced to a moping puppy both adorable and hilarious.

You glanced at him, a playful smirk forming on your lips. He just shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face.

"We tried subtle hints, we tried blatant pushes, we even tried a completely ridiculous interpretive dance,” Charles interjected, his face scrunching up in a grimace. “That was… not our finest hour."

"Oh god, please don't remind me of that" Lando said, cringing slightly, "we were terrible"

"And finally," Daniel continued, "after months of agonizing, Max decided he was going to pull out the big guns so to speak." He winked at you. "Hence the very public, yet very romantic, proposal."

"It wasn't that public!" Max protested, but his voice held no real conviction. "Only like, half the paddock knew about it."

"Yeah, half the paddock who all happen to be great conversationalists," you said, laughing.

You wrapped your arm around Max's waist, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours.

"So, you knew?" You looked at Max, a hint of accusation in your eyes.

"I… might have had a little bit of help," he admitted, his gaze locking with yours. “But the feelings, those were one hundred percent mine, Y/N. Every single smitten, completely ridiculous, hopelessly in love bit of them. I just…” he paused, his gaze searching yours for something.

“I really wanted it to be special. For you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He was looking at you, the way a person looks at home, with a mixture of comfort and longing.

The room faded into the background and it was just you, and him, the weight of everything that had just transpired, and the overwhelming happiness swelling in your chest.

"Well, it was special," you said softly, and then, just for him, you added. "It was perfect."

He leaned in and kissed you. It was soft, gentle, like the first kiss all over again, but with a depth that the first hadn’t held. He pulled away, his thumb caressing your cheek.

"So, you really said yes?" He asked again, a playful lilt in his voice.

"Yes, Max," you laughed. "I really said yes. And you can thank your friends all you want but I was saying yes to you, to us. Not them."

You looked at the friends, still standing there and smiling and you could see that, despite the playful teasing and back and forth, they all seemed genuinely happy for you.

And in that moment, you knew that this room, those people, this bizarre and wonderful moment, was where you belonged. You were surrounded by people who loved you, who cared for you, and who were just as excited about your future as you were.

But most importantly, you were with him, the man who had made you feel like the most cherished person in the world. . . .

The worn floral print of Christian and Geri’s spare bedroom felt a little too familiar, a little too much like a childhood bedroom you’d long outgrown. The chipped paint on the windowsill, the baby blue coloured walls – they all seemed to be silently judging the contents of the open suitcase on the floor.

It was a suitcase, you realized with a sigh, that Olivia, a tiny force of nature with bright eyes and a stubborn chin, was currently using as a rather uncomfortable throne.

“No!” she declared, her voice small but firm. Her little legs, clad in rainbow-striped leggings, were splayed across the suitcase, effectively barring any further attempts at packing. “You can’t leave!”

You fought the urge to smile, a knot of tenderness and exasperation tightening in your chest. You loved Olivia like she was your own niece, which she was in all but blood.

You’d spent countless evenings reading her stories, building Lego castles, and braiding her unruly hair. It was going to be hard leaving, harder than you’d anticipated.

You sat on the edge of the bed, the springs groaning beneath you. “Why can’t I leave, Liv?” you asked, your tone gentle. You already knew the answer, but you needed to hear her say it.

Her brow furrowed, a miniature version of Geri’s expression when she was deep in thought. “Because… you make the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” she said, her voice tinged with a hint of desperation. “And you always let me pick the movie.”

It was a weak argument, but it was hers. A genuine, heartfelt argument against your departure. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

“I taught you how to make your own peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, remember?” you pointed out, teasing lightly. “And I promise, Max and I will invite you over for movie nights. We just won’t have this giant, comfy bed.”

Her eyes widened, the argument about sandwiches forgotten. “Max’s house has a giant bed?” she asked, her voice filled with awe.

“Well,” you said, chuckling, “It’s big enough for him and me, but maybe we can squish you in sometimes.”

You immediately regretted it when her face lit up, all thoughts of your departure suddenly focused on whether this “giant bed” would be a good place to jump.

You were about to derail the entire thing, even before you’d managed to pack a single pair of socks.

Olivia bounced off the suitcase, her earlier resistance seemingly forgotten. “Can we go now?!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with anticipation. “I want to see Max’s giant bed!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not yet, sweetie. I still need to pack, remember? And anyway, you'll have to ask your mom and dad if you're allowed to go over to Max's.”

The thought of Max, his warm smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, always warmed you from the inside out.

Moving in together felt like the most natural thing in the world, a gentle step forward in a relationship that had blossomed so effortlessly.

“Oh, okay,” Olivia said, her enthusiasm slightly dampened but still there. She plopped down on the bed next to you, her back leaning against you. “But you can’t forget to pack the sparkly socks you let me borrow!”

You reached out and ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry, they're not on my packing list,” You said, hoping she wouldn't notice how your hand was shaking a little.

It had felt like an eternity since you'd found the little courage to break from the "safe" life you'd built, the one where you were just their 'friend' who lived at Christian and Geri's.

It had felt like an eternity since you'd allowed yourself to feel this happy.

She was quiet for a moment, her little face serious. “I’m going to miss you, you know,” she said in a small voice. It wasn’t a whiny statement, but it was filled with a heartbreaking honesty that tugged at you.

You leaned in and hugged her tight. “I’m going to miss you too, Liv,” you mumbled into her hair, the scent of strawberries and sunshine filling your nose.

"But it’s not goodbye forever. I'll still be around. We’ll have so many sleepovers. And I'm not all the way gone yet. We can bake cookies and do crafts and watch shows together. Okay?”

She nodded against you, and the silence stretched for a moment, the only sounds the faint hum of the refrigerator downstairs and the low rumble of a car passing on the street outside.

You could feel her small hand gripping the edge of your t-shirt, her grip surprisingly strong despite her size. You were so grateful to have her. What would you do without them all? The thought of leaving now seemed more daunting than it had an hour ago.

“You like Max, right?” Olivia asked, finally breaking the silence.

You tensed. You hadn't expected that question. It caught you off guard, though you knew she wasn’t going to pry. She was just a kid, trying to understand the changes happening around her.

“Yeah, Liv. I like Max a lot,” you admitted, your voice soft. You wondered if she could hear the smile in your voice. It was a simple statement, but it carried so much weight.

It was more than just liking him. It was the easy way he fit into your life, the way he understood your vulnerabilities and supported your dreams, the way he made you feel like the most important person in the world. You loved him.

Olivia nodded, her gaze fixed on her hands. "He's nice I guess," she conceded grudgingly.

Her head snapped up, her eyes widening. “Really?” Her voice was full of surprise, a spark of genuine interest finally flicking to life behind her eyes.

“Yeah! He said he wanted to do it for all of your friends, like a big group thing as a surprise.” you beamed at her.

The tension in the room seemed to lessen slightly. Olivia’s shoulders relaxed, her small frown softening. She actually looked… curious.

“He’s doing that?” she asked, her voice laced with a hint of disbelief. “That’s… nice.”

“See?” you said, a playful tone creeping into your voice. “He is! He’s not just some random boyfriend, Liv. He’s actually pretty amazing.”

She finally looked up at you, a small smile playing on her lips. “I guess. It's just… it’s going to be really different without you here.”

“I know,” you said, your heart clenching slightly at the thought of leaving your shared space. “But it's not like I'm moving to another country. We can still hang out whenever you want.”

“Yeah, I know,” she mumbled, picking at a loose thread on her skirt.

“And,” you added, hoping to lighten the mood further, “Max said we could do movie nights at his house after the season is over. Your movie pick would be first.”

“Really?” Her smile grew a bit wider. “He said that?”

“Yep! He’s actually really excited to have you all over. He thinks you’re cool, you know.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “He does?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, Liv. He’s not some monster trying to steal me away. He just… makes me happy.”

She sighed, the last vestiges of her earlier frustration seeming to melt away. “Okay, okay. I get it. He sounds like a decent boyfriend. And a big Moana fan.”

“He kind of is,” you said, grinning. You picked up another outfit from the wardrobe. “Hey, do you want to watch Peppa Pig while I finish packing? Or do you have a better suggestion?”

Olivia's face brightened. “Oh yes please! But only if we have pizza after you finish.”

You laughed, relieved. “Deal,” you said.

The melody pulsed through you, a vibrant current that mirrored the excitement fizzing in your stomach. “Ik sloeg mijn ogen open, knipperde wat en de lucht leek helder, hij wil dat ik hem geloof nu…” you sang, the Dutch words rolling off your tongue with a practiced ease.

You weren't fluent, not by a long shot, but you'd been diligently working on your pronunciation, fueled by a secret desire to impress Max.

Your phone, perched precariously on a stack of books, continued to belt out the infectious pop tune by a Dutch artist you'd discovered.

You grabbed the last stray top from your drawer, a soft, faded blue, and made your way back to your suitcase, which lay open and waiting on your bed.

“Als ik schrik van hem, kom ik niet meer zo dichtbij als ik zou willen,” you continued, a small smile playing on your lips.

You envisioned Max’s reaction, the surprise in his eyes, maybe even a chuckle, when he heard you singing in his native tongue. You'd been teasing him about learning Dutch for weeks, a little game to keep the anticipation of this visit high.

You carefully folded the top, fitting it neatly into the already packed case. The song reached its crescendo, a final flourish of synth and pounding drums before fading out.

The silence that followed felt… different. Too sudden. You were about to reach for your phone, to put on something else, when the sound of slow, deliberate clapping startled you.

Your heart leaped into your throat, and you spun around, a gasp escaping your lips.

There, leaning against your bedroom doorframe, stood Max. His arms were crossed over his chest, a knowing smirk playing on his face.

He looked effortlessly handsome, like he had just stepped out of a magazine. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his eyes were sparkling with amusement.

“Max!” you exclaimed, your hand flying to your chest. “How long have you been standing there?” Your face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and sheer joy.

You hadn't expected him until much later in the day, and the element of surprise was nearly overwhelming.

He pushed off the doorframe and stepped into your room, his gaze lingering on you. “Long enough to witness a very impressive performance,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

“Your Dutch is… well, it’s coming along.” There was a teasing note in his voice, but also something else, a hint of genuine admiration that made your stomach flip.

“Oh god,” you groaned, your cheeks burning a fiery red. “You heard all of that? It was awful, probably.” You started to fidget with your shirt, feeling terribly self-conscious.

Max chuckled, a sound you loved. “Awful? I thought you sounded like a natural.” He walked closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You know, ‘ik schrik van hem, kom ik niet meer zo dichtbij als ik zou willen’ is quite a romantic line. What does it mean?”

Your mind raced, trying to translate the words without sounding like a bumbling fool. “Uh, it’s… it’s something like… ‘if I am scared of him, I won’t come as close as I would like to’,” you mumbled, your gaze dropping to your feet.

He stopped in front of you, tilting your chin gently up with his finger. His touch sent a jolt through you, making you forget, for a moment, how silly you probably looked.

“Scared of me?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of concern.

You shook your head quickly, “No, of course not! It’s just the song. I was just trying to get the pronunciation right.” You felt your face growing even hotter.

“Well, you were certainly dedicated,” he said with a smile. “And I must confess, it was rather charming.” He stepped around you to look at the open suitcase.

"You're almost done?" Max asked, turning back to you with that smile that always made your heart flutter.

You nodded, still slightly dazed, thinking, how did you even get in?

As if reading your mind, Max let out another chuckle. "Your sister let me in and gave me a 10 minute lecture of how to take care of you, I already feel like a better boyfriend," he said with a smile, a playful glint in his eyes.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Olivia peek her head in before getting caught and running off, a stifled laugh echoing from the hallway.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. Olivia and her dramatic theatrics were a constant in your life.

“She’s ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

He held your hand delicately, his touch sending a familiar warmth through you. His fingers intertwined with yours, a silent reassurance.

"Are you sure you're ready to move in with me, schat?" he asked, his voice soft, laced with a tenderness that always made your heart melt.

A wave of emotion washed over you, a mixture of excitement and a slight trepidation. Officially moving in with Max was a step, a big one, and the reality of it finally sank in.

This wasn't just a casual dating thing anymore; it was a commitment, a joining of lives, a leap into the unknown with the person you loved most.

“Ik ben meer dan klaar om met jou te leven,” you responded in Dutch, the words flowing smoothly, a secret language just for the two of you. I am more than ready to live with you.

Max grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He loved the way your native tongue sounded, the way the words rolled off your tongue, the intimacy of a language he didn't quite understand but felt deeply.

"God, you have to speak more of it later, okay?" he muttered, his voice low and slightly husky, a look of genuine adoration in his eyes. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Of course, Liefje,” you smiled, leaning into his embrace, the word darling slipping naturally off your tongue.

His scent, a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely his, filled your senses, and you felt safe, secure, like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

You tilted your head back, looking up at him. "I can't believe this is actually happening," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "Me neither," he confessed, "but I’m really excited. We're going to make a home together."

You laughed, the tension easing from your shoulders. He had a way of making even the most daunting things feel like an adventure. "I can already see the chaos unfolding," you joked. "And I actually can't wait for it."

"Good, because I have a feeling it's going to be one hell of a ride," he replied, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

He released you from the hug but kept your hand in his, guiding you towards the door. "Come on, let's get out of here. I’ve already loaded the other suitcase and Geri is waiting with lots of snacks for the road. Plus, I’m sure Olivia has something dramatic planned as your departure performance.”

As you walked out of your room, the weight of the move, the finality of it all, settled in. You glanced back at the empty space, a small pang in your chest.

It was a chapter closed, a book put back on the shelf, ready for the next story to begin.

Downstairs, Geri engulfed you in a hug, a mixture of sadness and happiness in her eyes. Olivia was holding a tissue to her face, fake sobbing, dramatically letting the tissue fall to the floor as she pretended to faint.

“Oh please,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“This is a great occasion,” Geri chuckled, “A bittersweet one. I’m so happy for you two, truly, but seeing you leave is definitely a change.”

“Don’t worry, Geri, I’ll come back whenever you need me,” you said, giving her another hug. “And you can always visit.”

“Of course,” your mom said softly. "I’ve already planned the Christmas dinner to be at your new place. I expect you two to work hard making it a home,”

You laughed and turned to Max. "Ready to go?" you asked, a genuine smile lighting up your face.

He squeezed your hand, a silent reassurance. "Always," he said, his eyes full of affection.

You took one last look at your home for a few months, a place filled with memories, both good and bad. Then you turned away.

The future was here, waiting for you, and you were ready to embrace it, hand in hand with the man you loved.

The car ride was filled with laughter and excited chatter. Max’s hand rested on your thigh, a comforting weight that grounded you. You listened to him talk about his plans for the apartment, how he envisioned you both filling it with your personalities.

He told you about painting the kitchen walls and adding some of your favorite books. Your heart swelled with affection.

It was going to be perfect.

Arriving at the apartment, you were greeted with the sight of Max's place, and it was better than you had imagined. It was filled with light and open spaces, with a balcony overlooking a small park. This space, your space, was waiting for you to make it a home.

You took a deep breath, the feeling of anticipation and joy bubbling in your chest.

Max looked at you. "What do you think?" he asked, his eyes filled with a touch of nervousness.

You turned to him, your heart overflowing. "It's perfect," you said, your voice soft, filled with love. "Absolutely perfect."

And you knew, with a certainty that resonated deep within your soul, that this was where you were meant to be. This was the start of your next chapter, and you couldn't wait to see where it would take you.

As Max took your hand and pulled you inside, his smile telling you everything you needed to know, you knew, that this was home.

The key turned in the lock with a satisfying click, and the door swung inward, revealing the entryway of your new life together. Sunlight poured through the large windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air like tiny, eager spirits.

You stepped inside, and for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. It wasn't just a house; it was a testament to shared dreams, a physical manifestation of the love you and Max had carefully cultivated.

Your gaze immediately lifted, drawn to the soaring vaulted ceiling, the exposed beams a rich, dark wood that contrasted beautifully with the soft, off-white walls. You ran your hand along the smooth plaster, marveling at the craftsmanship.

Your feet carried you forward, deeper into the house, your suitcase forgotten by the door. You traced the curve of an archway that led to what you assumed was the living room, then peeked into a cozy nook tucked away near the kitchen, already imagining long evenings curled up there with a book.

You explored each room as if it were a precious artifact, finding beauty in every detail. The kitchen was a chef’s dream, with a large island, gleaming countertops, and a pantry that seemed to stretch on forever.

Sunlight streamed through the large, almost floor-to-ceiling windows in the dining area, promising sun-drenched breakfasts and candlelit dinners. You could already picture yourselves here, laughing and creating memories in the home that belonged to both of you.

You were so thoroughly captivated you hadn't even noticed Max watching you from the entryway, his eyes filled with an adoration that made your heart melt. He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Finally, you completed your impromptu tour, circling back to the entryway practically vibrating with excitement. You turned to him, your eyes wide, a genuine smile lighting up your face.

“What do you think, schat?” he asked, his voice soft, laced with anticipation.

You didn’t hesitate, your heart full to bursting. “Liefje, it’s amazing,” you breathed out, the Dutch term of endearment rolling off your tongue with ease. It was more than amazing; it was everything you had ever hoped for, and more. It felt like coming home.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and came towards you, his hand reaching out to take yours. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, his smile widening. “I knew you would. I’ve spent weeks picturing you here.” He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing against your skin.

“Picture me here?” you teased, tilting your head. “Doing what?”

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through you. “Reading in that little nook, probably. Or cooking up a storm in that kitchen. And dancing, maybe? We have plenty of space for that now.”

You laughed, imagining the possibilities. “Dancing, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, playfully challenging him. “Are you going to finally teach me the tango?”

“Maybe,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “But first things first: we need to get your suitcase inside before someone mistakes it for an abandoned piece of luggage.” He gestured towards the forgotten suitcase with a playful wink.

You blushed slightly, realizing how completely you had gotten caught up in the moment. “Oh, right.” You turned to grab your suitcase, but he was already there, easily lifting it as if it were weightless.

“Let me take care of that,” he said, his voice gentle. “You’ve been exploring; I’ll be your pack mule.”

You followed him further into the living room, placing your case near a large, plush couch. He placed his suitcase next to yours, the gesture a small symbol of the life together you were building. “So, what’s next?” you asked, feeling a jolt of excitement run through you.

“Well,” he said, turning to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I was thinking we could unpack? Then maybe open a bottle of wine? And then…” He paused, drawing out the word. “Then we officially break in the house.”

You laughed, playfully nudging him with your elbow. “Break in the house? What does that exactly entail?”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Well, I was thinking… we could christen each room. One by one.”

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson as you caught the meaning behind his suggestive tone. “Max!” you exclaimed, with a mixture of embarrassment and delight, your heart rate picked up from his words.

He laughed again, the sound warm and comforting. “What? It’s a big house; it needs to be properly inaugurated, don’t you think?”

“Maybe after we pack...” you began, your smile matching his mischievous one.

The next few hours were a flurry of activity, filled with unpacking, laughter, and the occasional stolen kiss. You found yourself working seamlessly alongside Max, each of you knowing exactly what to do, a testament to the quiet harmony you shared.

You unpacked your clothes, placing them side by side in the spacious wardrobe; you organized your things in the bathroom, your toiletries now lined up next to his. It was amazing how quickly this space was becoming a home, a reflection of the life you were building.

As the sun began to set, casting long, golden shadows across the house, you collapsed onto the sofa, finally allowing yourself to relax. Max joined you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you close. You nestled into his side, the warmth of his body a familiar comfort.

He opened a bottle of wine, pouring two glasses. He handed one to you, and you clinked them together. “To new beginnings,” he said, his eyes locking with yours.

“To new beginnings,” you echoed, taking a slow sip of the wine. The taste was rich and smooth, a perfect complement to the moment.

You looked around the living room, now slowly filling with your presence. It was cozy, inviting, and overflowing with possibilities. Soon it would be filled with the sounds of your laughter and the echoes of your life together.

You turned to Max, his face illuminated in the soft glow of the setting sun. “Max,” you said, your voice filled with emotion, “thank you. For everything.”

He smiled, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart swell with adoration. “You don’t have to thank me, schat. This is just the start.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss. “And I can’t wait to see where this journey takes us.”

The news hit you like a rogue wave, leaving you gasping for air. "My mom and sister are coming over in two days," Max had said, his voice casual as he stirred the pasta sauce. He hadn’t looked at you, too focused on the simmering pot, and for a moment, the kitchen seemed to shrink, the walls closing in.

Two days. . . .

[luviwon]

PHONE SEX | k.sn

kinktober day 12! back to the masterlist here!

☆ dating app stranger!sunoo x dating app user!reader

; “lonely at night? don’t worry, ‘call a lover’ will bring you the company you need in just a couple of seconds”. out of curiosity, you downloaded the dating app mentioned in the ad, just to say goodbye to boredom. i mean, it’s not like you’ll end up moaning a stranger’s name tonight, right?

genre ; smut

taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse

it was a typical friday night, and you had just gotten back from your part-time job, the slight exhaustion from the week settling into your bones. your apartment was quiet, the soft hum of the fridge and the faint sounds of the city outside barely making a dent in the silence. you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, looking for something—anything—to keep your mind occupied.

you hadn’t planned on doing much tonight. maybe watch a show, order some takeout, and call it a night. but the familiar feeling of loneliness crept in, as it often did on weekends when the world outside seemed to be buzzing with life, while your space remained still.

a notification popped up on your screen: an ad. “lonely at night? don’t worry, ‘call a lover’ will bring you the company you need in just a couple of seconds.”

you stared at it for a moment, unsure of how to feel. it was kind of absurd, right? a dating app promising to cure loneliness in seconds? still, curiosity tugged at you. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before—downloading one of those apps. but something always held you back. maybe it was the thought of putting yourself out there, or maybe it was the fear of what you might find.

but tonight, for some reason, the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched. you had nothing to lose, after all. with a sigh, you tapped on the ad, and the app store opened up. call a lover. the name made you roll your eyes a bit, but your fingers moved on their own as you clicked ‘download’.

the app installed in seconds, as promised. you opened it, greeted by a sleek, minimalist interface. it asked for the usual—name, age, a profile picture. you hesitated before uploading one, the weight of the decision pressing on your chest for a moment. but then, you shrugged. what’s the worst that could happen?

as you filled in the details, your mind wandered. was this what you needed? company? or was it just the boredom talking? either way, the app was there now, on your phone, waiting for you to make the next move. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see what was out there.

you had been scrolling through the app for about half an hour now, and the initial excitement had started to fade. call a lover wasn’t exactly living up to its promise of instant company—it felt more like sifting through a pile of disappointments. most of the profiles were either guys with empty bios or ones that made your skin crawl a little.

there was “jo young, 32, looking for sneaky link,” which made you cringe. another one had no picture but proudly declared, “married, but it’s complicated 😉.” then there was a guy named “hunk4u,” whose profile was just a wall of shirtless selfies, and his bio? “here to make your nights better ;)” as if the wink emoji made it any less sleazy. you swiped left on them all, growing more frustrated by the second.

was this really what dating apps were like? you wondered. was this what people were settling for?

you were about to close the app and chalk the night up to a failed experiment when a small pop-up appeared on your screen.

someone requested a call.

you blinked, staring at the notification for a moment. it took you a second to remember what that meant—someone wanted to talk to you, but the app gave you ten minutes to review their profile and decide whether or not to accept the call.

curious, you clicked on the profile. the username was toxicology. the profile picture wasn’t much to go off—half of his face was visible, just enough to show he was your typical easy-on-the-eyes asian guy, dark hair falling just slightly into view. his expression was neutral, not the usual forced smile or weirdly intense stare you’d seen on other profiles. it was…intriguing.

his bio was short and vague, but there was one detail that caught your attention: “art student.” your heart skipped a beat. he studies art too? you couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of interest.

you glanced at the timer—five minutes left to decide.

on one hand, it could be just another guy with nothing much to say, or worse, someone pretending to be something he’s not. but on the other, the idea of talking to someone who shared your passion for art was tempting. maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

you took a deep breath, staring at the profile picture again, trying to imagine what his voice might sound like, what kind of conversation you’d have. something about him made you curious.

with five minutes still on the clock, you clicked the green button to accept the call.

the line clicked, and a soft rush of static filled your ears, followed by a faint sound—maybe wind or the rustling of fabric. you could feel your heart pounding a little harder than it should. it was strange, talking to someone you hadn’t even seen fully, someone who was essentially a stranger. but there was a pull, a curiosity that kept you from hanging up.

you cleared your throat, deciding to break the silence. “hi.”

there was a pause, and then a low chuckle filtered through the phone, smooth but light—not the deep, gravelly type you’d expected. still, it hit differently, like it had weight behind it, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. it wasn’t harsh or mocking, but something about it unsettled you, as if he knew something you didn’t.

you frowned. “what’s so funny?” you tried to keep your tone steady, but a hint of irritation slipped through.

“you have a cute voice,” he said, his voice almost lazy but with an edge that made it linger in your ears. “unlike your profile picture.”

your breath caught for a second. cute? unlike my picture? that wasn’t exactly what you expected. you were suddenly hyper-aware of how you sounded, how you were presenting yourself. was he already judging you based on the tiny glimpse of you he’d seen online?

“are you saying i don’t look cute?” your voice came out sharper than you meant, defensive. the last thing you wanted was to feel judged by someone you barely knew.

there was a brief silence, followed by that same faint chuckle, softer this time. “no,” he said slowly, letting the word roll off his tongue in a way that made your chest tighten. “i’m saying you look hot.”

the air seemed to shift. your grip on the phone tightened as you processed his words, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. his voice wasn’t deep, but there was an intensity to it that wrapped around you, making it hard to focus on anything else. it was smooth, intoxicating, just like his username—toxicology—something that lingered and got under your skin in the best way possible. it wasn’t over-the-top, but the subtle confidence was enough to throw you off balance.

your mind raced. the compliment was bold, unexpected. he didn’t sound like the type who threw words around carelessly, which made the impact of them even heavier.

“oh,” you managed to say, trying to steady your breathing. hot. it wasn’t the kind of compliment you were used to, especially not from someone who’d only seen a tiny part of you, but something about the way he said it made it feel more personal, like he meant it. it left you wanting to know more about him, this guy who managed to throw you off guard with just a few words.

“didn’t expect that, did you?” his voice cut through your thoughts, soft but teasing, as if he could read the way you were processing everything.

you shook your head slightly, even though he couldn’t see it. “not really,” you admitted, feeling your pulse race a little faster, the conversation already taking a turn you hadn’t prepared for.

you took a breath, trying to regain your composure after his bold compliment. his voice was still lingering in your head, like the subtle warmth that came from a low flame, and you were torn between wanting to know more and not wanting to show that he had rattled you so quickly.

“so,” you began, attempting to sound casual, “what’s an art student doing on an app like this?”

there was a brief pause on the other end, and then you heard something—a faint click followed by a soft inhale, like the distant sound of someone taking a drag from a cigarette. it mixed with the soft rustling of wind in the background, adding an edge to the quietness between you. you weren’t sure, but the thought crossed your mind: was he smoking?

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he let out a slow exhale, and you swore you could almost hear the faint curl of smoke escaping his lips. “what’s anyone doing on here?” he responded lightly, the flirtatious undertone unmistakable. “same reason as you, maybe… curiosity?”

you narrowed your eyes slightly, feeling like he had turned your question right back at you without really answering it. “curiosity, huh? so you’re just here… what, to talk?”

his laugh was quiet, almost too soft to catch. “maybe. or maybe i’m just waiting to meet someone interesting.”

you could feel his words sink in, another layer of subtle flirtation in his tone. he had a way of answering without giving anything away, always leaving you wanting more. it was frustrating in a way, but also part of what was drawing you in.

“you’re avoiding the question,” you pointed out, feeling the need to steer the conversation back into your control. “how often do you do this? talk to strangers like this?”

there was a beat of silence, the wind picking up a little on his end. “not often,” he finally said, his voice quieter, almost thoughtful this time. “but something about you felt… different.”

you weren’t sure if it was the words themselves or the way he said them, but it made your stomach flip. the mix of flirtation and something almost genuine was disarming. “is that right?” you asked, trying to sound skeptical, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

“mm-hmm,” he hummed, another soft inhale following. “so what about you?” he asked, effortlessly flipping the conversation again. “why’d you accept the call?”

you hesitated, feeling the tables turn. “i don’t know,” you admitted, your fingers playing with the edge of your phone. “maybe i just wanted to talk to someone different too.”

another low chuckle, then the wind shifted slightly again. you could almost picture him outside, leaning against a wall or standing somewhere with that easy confidence. the sound of his cigarette briefly filled the silence again, making the moment feel more personal, as if he was just letting you into his space a little more.

“okay, fine,” you said, deciding to take a different approach. “i’ll keep it simple. what’s your name?”

he paused, and you wondered if he’d avoid this question too. but this time, after a brief second, he answered. “sunoo,” he said, his voice carrying just the slightest edge of softness, as if sharing his name was more personal than all the other words he’d said so far.

sunoo. you repeated it in your head, trying to match it to the voice on the other end of the line. it felt like something had shifted between you, like the conversation had just gotten a little more real.

“sunoo,” you echoed quietly, letting the name settle between you, wondering what else he was hiding behind that voice.

sunoo let the silence hang for a moment, his name still lingering between you. then, with that same teasing edge, he added, “better remember this name for later tonight.”

you frowned slightly, unsure of what he meant. “later tonight?”

he chuckled again, the sound low and smooth, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice. “you’ll figure it out,” he said softly. there was a faint crunch through the phone, like he’d just stepped on something. you realized it was probably the sound of him extinguishing his cigarette on the pavement.

you blinked, still unsure if you were supposed to understand whatever he was hinting at, but decided to brush it off for now. “so, what’s your major?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation back to something more neutral, though the curiosity in your voice was still clear.

“sculpture,” he replied casually, as if it was nothing. but there was a subtle pride in the way he said it, and you could tell it was something that mattered to him.

your eyes widened a little, surprised. “really? i’m a ceramics major,” you said, feeling a small sense of connection bloom. “we’re in kind of the same world.”

sunoo hummed thoughtfully, clearly catching onto that connection too. “see? we’re meant for each other,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to make the line sound half serious, half playful.

you let out a short laugh, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see it. “meant for each other, huh? you sound pretty confident.”

“i just call it like i see it,” he replied, the smirk still evident in his tone.

the more he spoke, the more you found yourself intrigued, not just by the flirtation, but by the easiness of it all—like he knew exactly how to keep you on your toes without being too much. there was a magnetism about him, something about the way he could switch between casual and intense so effortlessly that left you wanting to know more.

“how about we switch this to a video call?” sunoo suggested casually, his voice smooth and confident, like he was just offering to grab coffee or something equally simple.

you froze for a second, the words taking a moment to sink in. a video call? already? your heart skipped a beat, the idea of showing your face to him—this guy you barely knew—feeling a bit too real, too fast. “a video call?” you repeated, a slight edge of surprise in your voice.

“yeah,” he responded, completely unfazed. “unless you’re not ready for me to see how cute you really are.” his tone was teasing but confident, like he already knew you’d say yes.

your breath caught at the boldness of his words, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks. you’d been fine with a voice call, but video? that was something else. your mind raced. you hadn’t exactly prepared for this—you looked fine, but not video-call ready. still, a part of you was curious. maybe this isn’t such a bad idea, you thought, biting your lip.

“give me five minutes,” you finally said, hoping your voice didn’t give away your nervousness.

“take your time,” sunoo replied smoothly, but then, with his usual flirty tone, added, “don’t worry, i’m sure you’ll look just as good as your picture—if not better.”

you rolled your eyes, even though your heart was racing a little faster now. “we’ll see about that,” you muttered, trying to sound more relaxed than you felt.

you hung up quickly, rushing to the bathroom mirror. your reflection stared back at you, and you sighed, grabbing some makeup and fixing your hair as fast as possible. why am i so nervous? you wondered, even though you knew the answer. there was something about sunoo—his voice, his confidence—that made you want to impress him, even if you barely knew him.

after a few minutes of quick touch-ups, you took a step back, giving yourself a once-over. not bad. you smoothed your hair, took a deep breath, and returned to the couch, grabbing your phone. your fingers hovered over the video call icon, the nervous energy building up in your chest.

okay, you told yourself, closing your eyes and taking one more calming breath. just be yourself.

with one last deep inhale, you pressed the video call button. the screen went dark for a moment, and you waited, heart pounding as you prepared to see the face behind the voice.

the screen flickered for a second before it stabilized, and then you saw him—sunoo.

he was indeed outside, just like you had imagined, standing in front of what looked like his apartment building. the soft glow of a streetlight illuminated the scene, and there he was, leaning against the wall in a black jacket that hugged his frame perfectly. His hair was messy, slightly tousled from the wind, just like in his profile picture. but now, you could see the rest of his face, and—shit—he was even more handsome than you’d expected.

his lips were plump, the corners lifting in a slight smirk as he stared right back at you, his eyes half-lidded but sharp, taking you in just as much as you were observing him. you didn’t say anything, too busy scanning every detail—his jawline, his skin, the way his dark hair brushed against his forehead. it felt surreal, finally putting a face to that smooth voice.

and then, with that same teasing confidence you were starting to associate with him, sunoo broke the silence. “make sure you don’t fall for me so fast,” he said, his smirk widening just a little. “not that i would complain.”

you blinked, finally snapping out of your daze, but your heart skipped a beat at how casually he said it, like he knew exactly how much he was affecting you. and maybe he did, because he kept watching you with that smug, lazy look that made it hard to think straight.

before you could even come up with a response, he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, sliding it between his lips in one smooth motion. you watched, utterly captivated, as he flicked his lighter open, the small flame reflecting in his eyes as he brought it to the cigarette. the moment it lit, he took a slow drag, his gaze never leaving yours, the tip of the cigarette glowing softly in the dark. he exhaled, the smoke curling lazily into the air, mixing with the breeze that ruffled his jacket.

and, god, it was hot. ridiculously hot. there was something about the ease with which he moved, the way his fingers played with the cigarette, his lips wrapping around it, that made your pulse race.

you tried to swallow the sudden rush of nerves that hit you. was this guy real? because standing there, with his cigarette and his half-smirk, sunoo looked like he’d just stepped out of some sort of daydream, except he was right there in front of you, very real and even more attractive than you could’ve anticipated.

“you’re quiet,” he said after a moment, the smoke drifting out from between his lips. “is it because i’m even hotter than you thought?”

your breath caught in your throat at his question, and you felt your cheeks warm, even though he couldn’t see how flustered you were on the other side of the screen. you tried to find your words, but all you could do was stare. everything about him—his casual posture, the cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers, the way his lips curved up in that smug smile—was pulling you in, and you couldn’t help it.

sunoo’s free hand brushed through his hair, pushing the dark strands out of his eyes as he looked at you through the screen, and you swore your pulse quickened at the simple motion. the way his fingers ran through the messy locks made it look so effortless, but it was everything to you. he leaned back against the wall, watching you with an intensity that made it hard to focus on anything else.

“speechless, huh?” he teased, his voice low and laced with amusement, the smoke curling around him as he took another slow drag from his cigarette. when he exhaled, his lips parted slightly, and he let the smoke escape in a way that felt way too deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

you swallowed, forcing yourself to respond before you completely lost yourself. “you… really are confident, aren’t you?” you managed to say, trying to sound unaffected, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

sunoo chuckled, the sound vibrating through the phone. “confident? maybe,” he said, his voice dipping into something smoother, something more intimate. “but i’m not wrong, am i?”

he shifted slightly, tilting his head as his eyes scanned you through the screen. then, with an almost absentminded gesture, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. it was a quick motion, but it felt like slow motion to you, every small movement somehow captivating you even more. his lips, already plump and perfectly shaped, gleamed slightly under the soft light, and your mind blanked for a second.

“you keep staring,” he noted, his tone almost playful but with an edge that made your stomach flutter. “i wonder what you’re thinking about.”

your throat tightened, your heart pounding louder in your ears. what was it about him? he wasn’t doing anything particularly over-the-top, yet every small movement, every glance, seemed to have you hooked. and he knew it. there was something so intoxicating about the way he moved, the way he let his hair fall back into his eyes before pushing it back again with a small, almost careless groan that had you biting your lip.

“you think i look good, don’t you?” sunoo’s voice broke the silence again, softer this time, but it sent a shiver down your spine. “go ahead and admit it. i don’t bite.”

you exhaled shakily, trying to regain control of your thoughts, but it was impossible. his eyes, his lips, the way he carried himself so casually yet with this undeniable attraction—it was making it harder and harder to resist.

“i… yeah,” you said quietly, almost surprised at how easily the truth slipped out. “you do.”

his smirk grew, and he took another slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke swirling lazily in the air before he flicked the ash away. “see?” he said smoothly. “you’re falling for me already.”

you wanted to deny it, to say something back, but the way his eyes bore into yours through the screen made it impossible to argue. every small movement, every teasing word, was drawing you in deeper. you were falling—maybe not fast, but definitely falling. and somehow, you were okay with it.

sunoo took one final drag from his cigarette before flicking it to the ground, the ember glowing softly as it hit the pavement. with a slow, deliberate motion, he stepped on it, snuffing it out beneath his shoe. then, without missing a beat, he looked directly into the camera, his smirk still playing on his lips.

“but you see,” he began, his voice dropping an octave, the words coming out slow and intoxicating, “i’m not a bad guy. so i’m not going to reject your attraction to me.” he paused, his gaze holding yours through the screen. “in fact, i’ll reward you.”

your heart stuttered, a sudden wave of heat rushing through you as his words settled in. reward me? the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. before you could even process what he meant, sunoo turned and started walking inside, leaving the cool breeze of the street behind him.

you watched, utterly captivated, as the camera shook slightly with his movement, his steps echoing in the hallway as he entered his apartment. it was simple, dimly lit, with warm tones that made everything feel a bit more intimate. he didn’t say anything as he walked into his bedroom, the door shutting softly behind him.

your eyes stayed glued to the screen as sunoo casually shrugged off his black jacket, tossing it to the side with a nonchalance that only added to his appeal. he sank down onto his bed, stretching out in a way that made him seem almost too comfortable, like he was completely at ease with how much power he held over you in that moment.

the soft light from a lamp in the corner bathed him in a golden glow, casting just enough illumination to show his face and the outline of his figure, but leaving enough in shadow to keep you guessing. his tousled hair fell perfectly into place, and as he rested his head against the pillow, you caught sight of his sharp jawline, perfectly defined. when he turned slightly to reach for something off-camera, the veins in his neck became visible, standing out against his smooth skin, and you couldn’t stop the sudden rush of attraction that surged through you.

how is he so effortlessly hot? you thought, feeling your pulse quicken. there was something about the way he carried himself—his confidence, his ease—that made it impossible to look away. every small detail, from the way his jaw flexed as he moved, to the subtle shift of his body against the sheets, had you feeling like you were on the edge of something dangerous.

“you’re still watching, aren’t you?” his voice broke the silence, soft but tinged with amusement. his eyes flickered back to the screen, locking onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot to breathe.

you swallowed, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. you hadn’t even realized you were still staring, so completely caught up in every little detail of him that it felt like you were under a spell.

“don’t get too shy now,” he teased, his lips curling into a grin. “i told you, i’m not gonna reject you.”

you couldn’t tear your eyes away, wondering why you felt so drawn to him, why his every word, every movement seemed to pull you deeper. sunoo had this aura about him—calm, confident, and undeniably attractive. it wasn’t just his looks, though those were part of it. it was the way he seemed to understand exactly what you were feeling, how easily he seemed to read you, and how much he enjoyed keeping you on edge.

as he shifted slightly on the bed, his fingers brushing through his hair, the soft light caught the veins on his neck again, and you couldn’t help but be fascinated by how effortlessly alluring he was. your pulse raced, and you found it hard to keep yourself still, your body reacting to every small thing he did. this was more than just attraction—it felt like you were falling, slowly but surely, into something you couldn’t quite control.

sunoo’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned back into his pillow, a lazy grin stretching across his lips. “if you tell me something you really like about my appearance,” he began, his voice dropping low and teasing, “and you talk about it without blushing, then i’ll give you something more to blush about later.”

your breath hitched at his words, and you couldn’t help the warmth rising to your cheeks. he’s really playing with me now, you thought, feeling your heart race faster than before. but despite the nerves bubbling in your chest, you were determined to play along—at least, to try.

“okay…” you started, though your voice was already trembling slightly. stay calm, don’t let him get to you, you reminded yourself. your gaze flicked back to his lips, those plump, teasing lips that seemed to always carry a smirk. “your… lips,” you said, swallowing hard as the words tumbled out. “they’re really—” you paused, trying to find the right words, but your mind was going blank under his watchful gaze. focus, you thought. “they’re, um, really soft-looking. and, uh, perfectly shaped.”

sunoo’s grin widened, clearly amused by how flustered you were. his gaze never left yours, and you could feel your pulse quicken under the intensity of his eyes. keep going, you told yourself, though it felt like every word was making it harder to stay composed.

“they’re the kind of lips that… you could… get lost in,” you continued, though the way your voice faltered made it obvious you were struggling to hold it together. why is this so hard?

sunoo chuckled softly, his eyes darkening with satisfaction at your reaction. “you’re cute when you’re trying to keep your cool,” he teased, his voice rich with amusement. “but you’re not doing too well, are you?”

before you could even attempt to respond, he reached up with one hand, casually tugging the collar of his t-shirt to the side, exposing the sharp line of his collarbone. the movement was slow, deliberate, and unbearably hot. his skin was smooth, masculine, the curve of his collarbone leading down toward the rest of his chest, just barely visible beneath the fabric.

your breath caught, your gaze glued to the new glimpse of skin, and your thoughts scrambled. oh god. the sight of him was already making it impossible to think straight, but now… you were done for.

“wanna see what’s under?” sunoo asked, his tone both playful and seductive, as if he knew exactly what kind of effect he was having on you. his fingers trailed along the edge of his collar, just enough to hint at more, but he didn’t pull the shirt down any further. instead, he looked straight into the camera, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “keep your voice stable. don’t stutter… princess.”

the way he said that last word, dripping with confidence and a hint of something darker, sent shivers down your spine. your lips parted, but no words came out at first. how am i supposed to stay calm after that?

you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. “i can’t…,” you started, your voice barely a whisper, “i can’t focus when you—”

“oh?” sunoo interrupted, raising an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “then maybe you should stop thinking so much, hmm?”

sunoo’s smirk only deepened as he leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “well, if you think my lips are hot, then I think you’re hot too,” he said, confidence oozing from every word. “so I’ll show you more, too.”

before you could even process what he meant, he reached down and pulled his t-shirt over his head in one smooth motion. your heart raced as you caught sight of his toned torso, the defined muscles of his abs catching the dim light. he adjusted the camera slightly, angling it just right so that both his face and his chiseled body were framed perfectly in the screen.

you felt your breath hitch as he moved his hand softly against his abdomen, tracing the lines with his fingertips as if he were painting a masterpiece, drawing your attention to every contour. how is he this perfect? the sight of him was almost overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but cross your legs, the heat pooling in your cheeks intensifying.

“like what you see?” he asked, his voice dripping with playful arrogance, and you could only nod, utterly flustered. the words were stuck in your throat, and you cursed your inability to form a coherent response.

sunoo leaned back against the headboard, a casual yet alluring posture that made him look even more appealing. he licked his lips slowly, the motion deliberate and enticing, and you felt your heart race at the sight. “you know, I could get used to this,” he said, his tone light yet full of promise. “just you and me, talking like this… but with fewer clothes. what do you think?”

your mind raced as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was a losing battle. everything about him was magnetic, drawing you in deeper and deeper, making it harder to focus on anything but the thrill of the moment. this is unreal, you thought, feeling both excited and a little overwhelmed.

“are you going to keep staring, or do I need to give you a little more incentive?” sunoo teased, his eyes glinting with mischief, and you could feel the tension in the air shifting, thickening with possibility.

you bit your lip, feeling the heat radiate from your body. “maybe a little more… incentive wouldn’t hurt,” you managed to say, trying to sound brave, even as your heart raced in anticipation.

sunoo’s smile widened, his confidence filling the room like an electric current. “well, in that case…” he drawled, and you leaned forward, unable to pull your gaze away from him, your pulse quickening at the thrill of what was to come.

sunoo tilted his head, his expression playful but intent, as if he were carefully considering his next move. “you know,” he said slowly, “if we’re really going to get to know each other, I might need to see a little more from you, too.”

you felt your cheeks flush again at his words, the implication hanging heavily in the air. “more from me?” you echoed, a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice.

“yeah,” he said, leaning closer to the camera, his gaze unwavering.

even though uncertain at first, it was only fair to give him his part. after all, you’ve been staring at his abdomen constantly for a good time, why not reward him back? with some second thoughts but full of adrenaline, you let your phone down on the bed, pulling your shirt over your head and getting rid of it instantly. the cool air hit against your skin, though your chest was still covered by a laced black bra. you raised the phone back to your face, an impatient sunoo with an everlasting smirk on his face, waiting for your return.

“let me see, princess” he told you on a suave tone, his mouth slightly open, enough to give the right vibes for a sexy boy portrayal. you bit your lower lip and so you lowered the phone down, less confident than he were, only showing your chest before the camera, your face unable to be detected anymore. you looked down at the phone screen, taken by surprise when sunoo found it hard to stay still himself, even though he acted like the most flirtatious fuck boy until now.

“fuck” he whispered, his tongue moving slowly along his top lip, a sudden hunger growing within him. “don’t hide them, princess, let them free. i will take care of them” he winked at you, his smirk never leaving his face. your cheeks started burning again, as you swallowed down and kept the camera at the same angle. using your free hand, you cupped your left breast gently, feeling the material of the bra against your palm. the brunette moved the camera and showed more of his abs again, trying to give you the confidence you needed to show him more.

i mean, better be equal, right?

your fingers wrapper around the side of the bra, pulling it down on the side, exposing a hardened nipple for the camera. sunoo couldn’t help but keep biting his lips, feelings his abs all along, although you did notice his hand going lower and lower each time. and that turned you on so much, seeing how much your body made sunoo feel, you could swear his trousers looked tighter on him already.

but you couldn’t tell just now for a fact, as the angle was not quite it, and the light did not do it any justice.

but there was only one way to find out, and that was giving him more. so with a burst of initiative, you moved you bra under your boobs, pulling both of them out, hanging so prettily for sunoo. “they look so perfect” he whispered, but you heard clearly his words, which made you giggle. that was the last drop you needed to gain enough confidence, moving the phone more to capture both your chest and your face. “i was right to say you are hot, princess” he winked, his hand nowhere to be found anymore along his abs.

“do you want to do something fun together?” he proposed, his voice lower than before, almost like he wanted to draw you even more to him, aware of how much he is hypnotising you. you nodded in response, sunoo immediately pulling down his trousers and lowering the camera again. he was only wearing a pair of boxers now, the shape formed in the middle almost making you choke on your own saliva. he looked big, maybe TOO big inside his boxers, and you could only fantasize about what’s kept inside.

his hand brushed softly against his bulge, triggering to grow even more, although his eyes were fixed only on your tits, your hardened nipples and your collarbone area. he was hypnotised himself. “play with your tits for me, princess”, then a moment of silence set in as you left another bite mark on your lips, your index fingers making some circles around your bud, creating a heat pool between your legs, which have been crossed for so long now.

“you must be so wet seeing me like this” he chuckled, slyly moving his hand inside the boxers, wrapping it around his length, still not in the view for you. and that made you impatient, you really wanted to see more, to see how he is pleasuring himself at the view of your chest, to see the result of his attraction for you. so you pushed your shorts lower down too, a pair of purpleish panties covering your needy pussy.

much more confident this time, you moved the camera lower, surprising sunoo with your sudden pride, showing off your wet cunt. your panties were already proving the brunette what a good job he’d done, the wet stain visible to the camera. sunoo smirked, uncontrollably, and unable to cover his cock anymore, he pushed down the boxers and let his dick stand up freely.

“oh my-“ you started, pupils growing 10x more. he was big INDEED, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t want him to stretch your tight pussy out all night.

“tell me, princess, will this even fit inside you?”

you gulped, surprised by his question, almost like you still didn’t get used to his dirty talk. but not even years would get you prepared for such a thing, as his voice made it hotter everytime, and every flirting line he said, felt almost too real, too directed to you like he meant it.

and maybe he did.

“i don’t know” you answer honestly, not sure if you could even take him without waking up all yours neighbours with your screaming.

“then take care of your pussy for me, princess”

with a natural move, sunoo started pumping himself, his hand going up and down his length, almost in sync with your trembling fingers who pressed hard against the fabric. your cunt was finally receiving some attention, even though you wished in despair it was his hand that did the job. his hand looked absolutely perfect in the dim light, his soft veins making you swallow.

“take them off” sunoo urged you, and you followed his words, throwing them somewhere in the corner. “do you have any toys, princess?”. you shook your head, letting him know you don’t own such things, even though you were planning to purchase some, “then grab your hairbrush”

following all of your lover instructions, you made yourself cum with the brush, while he never stopped pleasuring himself.

[sillyhanako]

✦　　﹐　　I just wanna get high with my lover..　　⌒⌒

﹒꒦꒷ WINDBREAKER BOYS cuddling scenarios ♡♡ ft. togame jo, sakura haruka, suo hayato and kaji ren.

୧﹒sfw // wc : 272 - 400 each

꒱﹒a/n﹒୨୧ sorry for being inactive chat im cooking up way too many drafts and the ideas are flooding my brain 🎀 twst is peak

ー﹕m.list﹐

﹫﹒TOGAME JO

It was one of those cozy nights where the world felt like it was wrapped in a soft, warm blanket. The moonlight peeked through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room, as you and Togame found your perfect snuggling position on the couch. The warmth of one another's bodies created a bubble of serene comfort, and the only sounds that filled the space were the peaceful inhalations and exhalations as you both drifted into a blissful half-sleep.

You, nestled comfortably into Togame’s side, sighed contentedly, feeling like you could stay in this moment forever. However, as you succumbed to the gentle pull of sleep, a familiar tingling sensation crept through your arm. It was a well-known sign that your beloved cuddle partner was squishing your arm just a bit too tightly. With a playful huff, you cracked open an eye, gazing up at Togame.

“Hey my sweet angel princess” you teased, suppressing a giggle. “Could you move a little? My arm is falling asleep.”

slowly unfurled from the comfortable bundle you both had created. “c'moooon” he replied with a grunt, “But I was so comfortableee can’t you just power through it?”

“Power through?” you laughed, your voice light and teasing. “What do you think I am, some sort of arm contortionist?” 

With a jolt, he shifted, still pouting, but instantly feeling the warmth of your arm invigorate again. “Alright, alright i’ll grant your wish,” he said, lifting his arm.

Sitting up slightly, you two shared a moment, your faces just inches apart, the teasing still lingering in the air. “But only if you promise to return to this cozy position in just a moment,” he added with his signature mischievous grin. Oh if only he knew how handsome he looked right now.

“whateverrr" you mumbled back, settling in again as you found your way back into that cozy bubble. In the quiet of the night, you snuggled again, warm and content, drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

﹫﹒SAKURA HARUKA

Cuddling with sakura who's as stiff as a board can feel like snuggling a popsicle—chilly and a bit rigid. It’s kind of like trying to get a cat out from under the bed; you need to be gentle, patient, and maybe a little playful.

you came back to your shared apartment from a long day at school and needed to recharge, what better way than cuddling your cute boyfriend?

So now you're all cozied up on the couch, and he’s sitting there, arms awkwardly at his sides. You could swear he’s a statue, frozen in time, unsure whether to embrace or retreat. His heart might be racing—after all, cuddling isn’t exactly in the job description of a guy who’s never been in a relationship.

So how do you break the ice? Start with a playful nudge or a light tease. Gradually, you can inch closer, laying your head on his shoulder as if it's no big deal, inviting him into the cozy cuddle puddle you’ve created.

As his rigidity slowly melts, you can feel his heartbeat sync with yours. It’s like discovering the secret to a puzzle that everyone thought was impossible. You catch him stealing glances at you, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. Those moments give life to the cuddles, turning the chilly embrace into something warm and comforting.

If he still seems a bit hesitant, don’t worry! It’s all part of the fun. Compliment him or tell him how good he's being doing lately and how enough he really is. You might just find that his flustered face is the softest pillow to rest on. With each tease and awkward shuffle of limbs, he might just start to feel safe enough to let go of that stiff facade.

In this playful dance between fluff and awkwardness, he'll discover that cuddling isn’t only about physical closeness. It’s about creating an atmosphere where he feels free to express the whirlpool of feelings he’s been keeping bottled up. And hey, sometimes, when you least expect it, he might just surprise you with an unexpected cuddle back, and in that moment, you’ll know you’ve unlocked a piece of his heart.

﹫﹒SUO HAYATO

Cuddling on a lazy Sunday morning is one of those simple, sweet pleasures of life. The warmth of your handsome boyfriend wrapping his arms around you feels like being enveloped in your favorite blanket—cozy and secure. As the morning sunlight streams through the window, the world outside fades away, and it’s just the two of you, lost in your own little space.

Every touch feels like a tiny spark of magic, igniting sweet little giggles as you playfully nudge against each other. His calm demeanor means that you don’t have to hustle or worry about maximizing every moment; you can simply be. There’s a tranquility in those still moments that grants you permission to drift into laughter about the silly things you two did last week or to share fond memories that make your heart flutter.

Amidst the sweet serenity, a sudden, unexpected sound breaks the tranquility. You, snuggled comfortably against hayato, can’t help but let out a little fart. It happens!! We’re all human, right?

“Did you just fart?” he asks, a teasing glint in his eye, mixed with amusement and a hint of disbelief.

“Yes,” you admit sheepishly , a blush creeping across your cheeks.

“It’s okay,” suo responds with that signature calmness that makes everything feel better. “release your demons babe.”

With a mix of laughter and mock desperation, you lets out an exaggerated groan, “aaaauuurghh..”

The room bursts into laughter, and suddenly, the atmosphere is lighter.

amid gentle laughter and soft whispers, the world outside ceases to exist. You embrace the imperfections, the giggles, and, yes, even the farts, as the true essence of your relationship shines through.

﹫﹒KAJI REN

The soft glow of fairy lights dances in the corners of the room as the scent of popcorn fills the air — the perfect scene for a movie night. You settle into the couch, and your boyfriend, kaji, saunters in with his classic laid-back vibe.

he doesn’t fuss or fret about plans or expectations. Instead, he just kind of... floats in and out of moments, like a gentle breeze.

As you cuddle, a delightful mix of warmth and quiet envelops you. His breathing is steady and calm, creating a soothing backdrop to your little pocket of the world. While he might not shout his feelings from the rooftops or engage in wild conversations, there’s a comforting strength in his silence. He’s the type of guy who listens more than he talks, which sometimes leaves you wondering what’s going on in that brilliantly quiet mind of his.

But every now and then, a subtle chuckle escapes him — when you least expect it. — you find yourself savoring those moments.

But today your stomach had a different idea.

You, with a playful pout, broke the comfortable silence, “I’m hungry." You shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable while you stomach let out a small grumble, as if joining the conversation.

Kaji, blissfully snug and unwilling to leave the warmth of the blanket, replied with a monotone voice, “no way am i moving,” one was craving food, while the other was perfectly content to remain cocooned in his warm sanctuary. plus he was reallly into the movie.

You both knew that the only solution to your hunger would involve a quest to the kitchen, but the task seemed monumentally heroic when faced with the allure of the warmth of the cuddles and the movie. With a mock sigh, youleaned closer, whispering dramatically, “But what if I starve?”

after an exaggerated pause, he replied, “find a way but im not moving, 'm way too lazy."

cuddling with kaji is like a delightful balance. Sure, youre often the one chattering away about everything from your day to the latest trending topics. Yet, there’s something grounding about having a partner who doesn’t feel the need to fill every silence with words. It’s as if you've developed your own language — a subtle squeeze of the hand here, a soft smile there.

there’s a sweetness in the simplicity of being wrapped up together, lost in your thoughts but connected in the profound hush of your recharge sesh.

© 2025 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works. Thanks!

[tgms]

fight! — togame jo

you only wanted to try throwing a real punch! too bad your overprotective boyfriend has other plans. (wc: 1k)

“make sure your thumb’snt in your fist,” togame explained from over your shoulder. “line your feet up with your shoulders and put one forward—like that. good girl.”

you stand in the middle of your room, arms up like you’re ready to fight, hands formed into fists (thumbs on the outside!). togame stands behind you, big hands resting on your waist as he guides you to a proper fighting stance.

you giggle at the praise, craning your head back to lock eyes with him. you purse your lips a little, and he sighs before ducking his head down and planting a quick kiss.

“you happy now? if you needa punch someone, stand like this and aim for his nose or kick his balls.”

“mhm. thanks for teaching me, y’re the best,” you grinned back at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “but how ‘bout that reverse arm breaker thing you did? said you’d show me how to do that.”

“maybe next time. no need to worry your pretty head over that,” togame said, ignoring your immediate pout and pressing his thumb into your bottom lip to smooth it out. “lemme take care of all the fighting for you, ‘kay?”

the pout on your face deepened, your body already starting to pull away from togame’s. his grip on your sides tightened slightly and he turned you to face him fully.

“next time, baby,” he sighed out. he could never win against you. “dinner first, then we’ll see.”

you brightened up considerably, arms reaching up to wind around his neck. you planted another kiss on his cheek, laughing slightly at the air he blew on your neck.

“dinner first!” you promised, eyes glistening. “can i pick?”

which is how he ended up here, in an alleyway after dinner with an empty wallet and a group of guys giving him the stink eye. and of course, you with your arm wrapped prettily around his. why you picked a hole-in-the-wall dingy izakaya in the middle of the worst part of the city is beyond him.

“you know them?” you asked togame, eyes following the group of guys who were sneering at your boyfriend.

“had a little scuffle with ‘em last night. don’t worry ‘bout it,” he replied, sharp eyes directed to the supposed ringleader.

“were they weak?”

“very weak. made them eat shit.”

“can i try then?” you stopped midstep, looking up expectantly at togame.

“no,” he shot back quickly, almost cutting you off.

“you didn’t even let me finish!”

“i know what you’re gonna say, baby. and my answer’s no. no fighting for you.”

you stayed rooted in your spot, still a good three-quarters of the alleyway left before you reached the main street.

“if you let me punch one of them i’ll stop asking you to teach me,” you proposed.

“still no.”

“and i promise to stay away from any fights from now on. for real,” you threw in, tugging down on togame’s arm to get him to look at you. “and if i don’t have any cuts i’ll do anything you want.”

he turned his head slightly, eyes staring down into yours in a silent battle. you could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he weighed out the pros and cons of letting you do as you please.

pros: you’ll finally stop asking him to let you fight.

cons: you’re gonna fight.

after a couple more seconds of silence, togame threw his head back and groaned, one hand moving down to snake around your waist and the other coming up to toussle his hair.

“fine. you know i can never say no to you. i don’t wanna hear another word about fighting after this, got it?

you squealed in excitement, hopping up on your tip-toes to plant a smooch right next to his mouth.

“you missed,” he grumbled under his breath, hands flexing against your hips. you hummed, missing his words in your excitement of your first ‘fight.’

“which one should i go for?”

“that one in the front,” togame leaned down, voice low. “apparently their leader but he’s weak as shit. don’t worry ‘bout the rest.”

you beamed up at him again, giving him another quick kiss before practically skipping over to the small group.

“remember, no cuts!” togame called out after you. you didn’t bother replying to him or acknowleding his words. he grinned a bit, at least you listened when he said to never look away from your opponents.

togame stood a few steps away, watching as you exchanged quiet words with the leader of the group and laughing inwardly at the confusion that continued to show on his face, panicked eyes switching from you to togame.

and suddenly a loud crunch echoed through the air and the guy was on his back, uncomfortably laying on bags of trash. a hand came up to cup his bleeding nose while the rest of his group stared in shock, jaws hanging open.

you happily walked back to togame, smile as bright as ever and pride evident in your eyes. you lifted up one of togame’s arms, settling it around yourself as you started walking toward the main street.

“i did good, didn’t i?” you asked, beaming up at togame. the arm around your shoulders shook as he laughed, deep and hearty as always, but with something a little more that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“so good, baby,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your temple. “you always listen so well.”

his words sent butterflies straight to your stomach, and you couldn’t help the way you squirmed a little in his grasp.

“and no cuts!” you proudly showed off your knuckles, skin just as smooth as before your little fight.

“wow. looks like i get a wish, then,” he grabbed your hand and brought it up for closer inspection, placing gentle kisses on your knuckles after he deemed your skin injury-free. “dinner on you for the next week? or maybe you should take out the ori’s trash tomorrow.”

“no wait, stop,” you said, panic filling your voice. “anything but the trash, jo. you can’t make me!”

he laughed again, that same something still lingering.

“well how about i show you just how good you were today and we’ll call it even?”

notes: i literally want him so bad wtf. talk to me if u enjoyed!

[voidcat]

– [16:52]

characters: togame jo, you

notes: use of nicknames (was gonna be pet names too, but oh well for another fic mayhaps) girl help i was possessed idk where this came from. Anywyas enjoy ;w;

Slight vibrations accompanied by a little mew, you scratch the cheeks of the cat by your side, keeping your other arm extremely still.

The cat seems content but a little too energetic to sleep just yet. “Come on now, just rest.” You try to convince the furry fellow, giving ear scratches with your rhythm decreasing to lull it to sleep.

Not the wisest place to lie with a cat on your chest; streets are one thing but Shishitoren territory is on another level by itself.

Lucky for you, this is one of the streets their members rarely walk upon— that, or they’ve just decided to leave you alone for now, embarrassment still fueling hot in the blood of novices and some wayward punks.

“I just want you to use me as a pillow.” You almost wail at the cat with a pout, the cat not caring in the slightest as to what you want, purring and playing with your fingers.

“Is the offer on the table for others?”

A voice from afar breaks the peaceful space you and the cat had crafted, footsteps beginning to make themselves heard, drawing near with each step.

“Because if the little guy won’t, I’d like to take up on it.” The owner of the voice concludes, stopping several steps away from you.

The cat jumps off of you in an instant, bothered by the sudden raise of noise, disappearing into a narrow alley as all you can do is to sit there and watch them go away.

The lack of warmth quickly takes over your body, and you still remain in the same position, same spot. You don’t need to raise your head to be met with Togame Jo’s smug face, his grin already loud in the words he spoke.

“No can do.” You let the sweetness of your tone to drop, mourning the loss of the cat and your limited amount of solitude in the process.

“Come now.” He singsongs with open arms, still keeping his distance. “Gonna turn away a stray just like that?”

He sounds amused if anything, all the more annoying— “last I checked, you weren’t a cat Togame.” You say his name slower, emphasising on it.

The arms drop and he rests one to his hip, leaning his body weight on one foot as well. The use of his name works as you hoped, even just the slightest tinge of annoyance blooming works just fine.

“Back to the pleasantries, I see.” With the last of his word, he resumes his walk toward you.

“And what could I have…” *clink clank* his sandals echo in the air, “possibly done…” *clank* the sandals come to a stop, a curtain of shade cast over you, you can tell he is standing right next to where you lay, “to have upset my doctor dearest now?”

He speaks the words like honey as he crouches down, arms resting on the surface next to you, brushing against your skin, he tilts his head to the side and with each exhale, you can feel his breath tickling your skin.

The nickname does not help once bit. He always makes it a point to remind you of your embarrassment when you’re least expecting.

So what if you were a little naive back then! Unaware just how often and intense the lot of them would fight… if it’s a crime to be concerned at the sight of a human you saw as acquaintances covered in blood and bruises, getting worried and rushing to his side for first aid— sure you’re guilty as charged, take them in officer! put on the handcuffs and lock them away while you’re at it!

“Let me think…” you hum, bringing a finger to your lips to fake thinking. Your arm aches for being still for so long but you try to hide it away.

“Disturbing the peace of citizens, getting in the way of a potential sick animal’s rescue, asking people to use them as body pillows, initiating physical contact with people unprompted… I think the list goes on, don’t you think?” You turn your head to face him as you finish.

He stands close, too close, if you were to lean forward just an inch, your noses would brush already. And worse of all, he looks more smug than anything, just staring into your eyes, uncaring of the empty look you are careying

“An interesting list of accusations.” Togame speaks up after holding your gaze long enough for both of you to grow bored. “But mostly baseless, should I add.”

You raise an eyebrow in return, bringing both your hands by your chest to clasp them.

“The cat part can be handled any time,” he says as his eyes go up, as if thinking on ways to capture the cat later on, “but someone respectable such as you, doctor dearest, shouldn’t go around, spreading rumors now.” He says as his eyes find yours again.

“And last I checked, the physical contact wasn’t unprompted.” The grin returns to his face, with each word, he goes down a volume.

The grin grows bigger and bigger, the same unnerving one on the opposite sides fear, and the same one he loves to use when he feels like he has the upper hand on you. “You enjoyed it, in fact.”

And with the drop of the ball, he waits for your response, only receiving an eye roll in return, then one hand raising from where it lay to flick him off on the forehead.

The same empty mask is nowhere on your face— too many emotions in fact, all boiling, fighting to retort, say something back, bark or shut him off. But it’s an endless battle like that, only ending with one side speechless. And if anything to come by, you know when to admit defeat.

Like now, as unfortunate as it is.

Togame is the first to break the scenery after some time passes, the sky beginning change its colors. Getting up and stretching his arms, he opens his eyes to steal a glance at the sky.

“Heard it may rain today. Dont want a repeat of last time now, do we?” He says as an invitation. Reaching out his arm to you, bent by the elbow, he watches as you repeat after him, get up, stretch your arms and get off the platform you were sitting.

With a sigh, you link your arm to his and immediately pull him to your side with little force.

“Well then Mr. Stray, lead the way.”

[1800-fight-me]

The Wrong Guy

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Rating: M (As always- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, non explicit sex

Word count: A little over 1k

Synopsis: Both you and Logan fight against the growing feelings for one another as your relationship deepens.

Author’s note: I am so in love with Wolverine my brain stopped working, please accept this humble offering! I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, the words rough and choked out as if he had to force himself to push the vile words past his teeth. 

“Like what?” you breathed out. 

“Like you see your future in my eyes,” he said. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach and your eyes began to water. 

“Because all I see when I look in yours is a past that broke me completely.” 

You reached your hand across the table and gently laid it atop his own. 

“Logan,” you whispered. 

He shook his head and pulled his hand away. You swore you could hear the sound of your heart cracking. 

“You don’t want this, sweetheart,” he practically growled as he gestured to himself and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince you or himself. 

“I can decide for myself,” you protested. 

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You deserve better than to be shackled to someone like me,” he said, and now his hazel eyes shone with unshed tears- the same as yours. 

You glared at him, suddenly sick of all his self hatred bullshit. 

“Then why haven’t you told me to fuck off? You certainly have no problem pushing people away.” you snapped. 

“Because I can’t!” he said, voice raised. 

His breaths came hard and heavy and a part of you wanted to only offer him comfort, but your defenses were up from his harsh words. 

“Why?” you asked, voice flat. 

“It hurts to be near you, a constant reminder of my biggest failure, of everything I lost,” he said as he hung his head. 

This time the tears did begin to fall. 

You opened your mouth to speak but he continued. In a broken voice so unlike the powerful wolverine the world knew, he said, “And it hurts worse to be away from you.” 

If honesty was finally on the menu, you decided to say what had been on your mind as well. 

“When I look at you, I see the future I should have had. I see the life that should have been filled with love and the feeling of home rather than constant wandering and heartbreak.” 

He looked up at you and you ignored the impulse to smooth out the worried wrinkle between his brows with your thumb.  

“And that hurts too,” you said. 

He shook his head. “I’m not him, darlin’. I’m sorry you never met the Logan from your world, but I can’t be what you need from me.” 

“And I can’t be her,” you said, referring to the version of you that was once his wife. 

“I know,” he said, his voice heavy with pain and regret. 

He was your soulmate, but he wasn’t. A different version of the soulmate you were supposed to meet but never did. 

You were his soulmate, but you weren’t. A different version of the love of his life, his wife, the mother of his child, that was ripped from him violently and mercilessly. 

You were bound but doomed from the start. Both unable to walk away but also unable to stay. 

“Where does that leave us?” you asked in a voice so soft and tentative you didn’t even recognize it as your own. 

He sighed heavily, downed the rest of his whiskey, before he said, “I don’t fuckin’ know.” 

You sighed and stood up, ready to storm out of his apartment. 

“Wait,” he murmured, his large hand catching yours. 

You met his gaze and melted at the affection you saw there. 

You let him tug you back down to the couch, this time your body closer to his, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough that the presence and scent of him was intoxicating. 

“Let me kiss you,” he said, voice low in a way that made your toes curl. 

You worried there were unspoken words he wasn’t willing to say, that he was really asking to kiss you one last time. 

This man had just ripped your heart out, but you could never say no to him. You could never deny him anything. 

“Logan,” you whimpered and he reached for your face, wiping your tears away before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so tender you wondered if he was being honest before. You wondered if underneath the hurt that maybe he loved you. 

Your soul belonged to him. 

So you moved your lips in time with him, opening up at his prompting, and a soft whine came from the back of your throat as you tasted him, as your tongue slipped against his. 

A sound- something akin to a growl rumbled through his chest as he pulled you closer, kissed you harder, desperation evident in the way he consumed you. 

“Don’t wanna make you cry, baby,” he murmured against your skin as he trailed his lips across your jaw and throat. 

You whimpered as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Let me make you feel good,” he said, and it was less of an order and more of a plea. 

You let him pull you onto his lap and make good on his promise to give you pleasure, the kind only he could provide. 

But the pain still sat heavy in your chest even as he kissed you gently, moved inside you, and helped you reach your peak as he stared into your eyes. 

This wasn’t anything like the other lust driven entanglements you had with Logan. No, this was him making love to you and baring his soul within the process. 

There were tears once again in both your eyes as he brought you over the edge with him. He held you against his sweat glistened chest and you listened to his slowing heartbeat as you traced patterns on his muscled torso. 

“What if we tried?” you asked softly. 

He hummed as his nose ran across your hair, breathing you in. 

“You’re it for me,” he said in agreement. 

You burrowed your face deeper into his chest and he held you tight. 

And when the morning came, you both tried to put the past and the future aside and just be together, to love each other.

You both tried. 

[urauntiefaye]

Yuuhh, I’m back with some more thoughts !!

But first of all, hope ur doing great boo 🤍🤍. And now onto my thoughts, what do u think about &team and their partner who’s ovulating? Like it’s soo extreme that their dicks is just constantly inside of them, AKA ✨multiple rounds✨

-🍧

&Team When Their Partner is Ovulating 🔞

WC: 792 

TW: Smut, Ovulating, AFAB reader, Bullying in Makis, oral in Taki and Jos. not proof read, let me know if I forgot anything!

A/N: Welcome back~ and I'm doing great! How are you?! But yes I love this request so much! Also some are a little bit longer than others even though this isn’t the longest work I’ve done. 

Kei- 

When Kei finds out your ovulating…good.fucking.luck bro-, Kei is allllll over you when he finds out you’re ovulating. Pinning you up against the wall, the kitchen counters, the dining room chairs, on the table, on the coach ANYWHERE he will be fucking you no matter what. Just pinning you down and degrading you for being so needy, asking you what you would do without him UGH.  

Fuma- 

Sooo loving and lowkey already knew it was coming, he secretly has a period tracker on his app to keep up with you. He also just knows what the signs are and when he picks up that you’re going through your ovulating period he will take advantage of it girly pop. He’s cumming into you so much that you won’t be able to help but to get pregnant. If you end up getting your period afterwards? That’s okay, he still has next time. During the entire time his dick is in you 24/7 though, if he’s at work and you need him, he’s either coming up with an excuse to leave early, or he’s calling you while running to the bathroom. 

Nicholas- 

Good luck babes. Nicholas LOVES when you’re ovulating because of how needy you are. Just always clinging to him, now he will tease to no END. You ovulating is easy teasing material. He loves when you ride him during these moments, because you just show how much you love and need him. Plus it gives you the opportunity to go as long as you want and as fast and hard as you want. 

Euijoo- 

Is concerned at first, because how the fuck are you STILL horny after going at it for an hour. He wants to help you but please, baby needs a moment of rest to catch his breath. You’ll probably end up riding him, but unlike Nico it’s because Euijoo gets tired but still wants to please you. He’s probably passing out in a deep slumber afterwards, so you either have to wait till the next morning for aftercare or you’re going to have to perform aftercare yourself.

Yuma- 

It’s his favorite time of the month. I’m not even joking guys, Yuma is another motherfucker that has a period tracker on his phone. So when he gets notification that your ovulating period is about to start he’s ON IT. Hands on you at all hours of the day. Won’t let you rest, because he thinks you need just one more orgasm(he’s said this for the past three times btws). 

Jo- 

Another one who is concerned but not for you but for him. He doesn’t think he can keep up with you and your horny levels. He tries though, but sometimes his dick gets sore and sensitive so he opts to eating you out or fingering you. He’ll fuck you again don’t worry, you just have to give his poor cock a break babes. 

Harua- 

Didn’t know that girls pretty much go through heat each month, he knew about periods but the concept of you also having a moment where you’re just horny all the time just didn’t cross his mind. So when you’re on your knees clinging to him practically drooling over him he is CONFUSED, but he doesn’t mind. He won’t ever tell you but he wants you to be like this all the time. He is so down to fucking you for how many times and for how long you need. 

Taki- 

It’s also his favorite time of the month. Taki in my opinion is hypersexual, so the fact that you have moments where your sex drive fucking spikes UGh he loves it a little too much if you ask me. If he’s not fucking you he’s inbetween your legs lapping at your needy cunt because he can honestly eat you out and fuck you for hours on end. Don’t test him. And if you’re shy about it? Pfft don’t be he needs this, he wants this, don’t be shy just lay down and let him take care of you. 

Maki- 

Bullies you…okay hear me out, he doesn’t mind it and he will help you out. In fact he loves when you’re ovulating because that means more sex. But he does call you a “needy little slut” “whore for his attention” and when you come up to him being all needy he acts dramatic like “your horny AGAIN? How many times has it been today? You’re like a little hormone monster”. Which makes you pout and be like “never mind, I’ll just go get myself off”, to which he will stop you and pull you onto his lap telling you he was just kidding and that he doesn’t mind helping out his little needy slut.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 1

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 5393

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1

You grew up hearing about soulmates, but since you were raised by your Aunt Ellen, it was something you weren’t sure was even true. She’d shown you the mark that had shown up on her hip, your uncle’s name, when she’d turned sixteen. Soulmates clearly were a thing, but you were skeptical, even as a child.

“Hey, you gonna take care of the customers or just stand there daydreamin?” Ellen asked you.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, tending to the men at the bar.

How did I end up working here, of all places?

Your mind constantly drifted these days, and it started a month ago. Your twenty-fifth birthday was only three months away. Jo continually teased you when she found you off in your head during work hours. Then there was your Aunt Ellen, who was getting more worried about you as the days passed.

The music from the jukebox sounded far away, almost muffled as you absentmindedly took care of the tasks of cleaning tables, the bar, restocking bottles, and filling drinks. Guys would flirt with you, but you’d only give them that fake smile and move on.

It was the birthday you’d been waiting for, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone. You were turning sixteen, and you’d finally see the name of your soulmate. Thanks to your aunt, you had gotten your hopes up.

But the day came and went, and nothing appeared. You had checked everywhere, even behind your ears. There was nothing. It took months to pull out of that depression, especially when those close to you asked about it. You also felt like some sort of freak. In all the research you’d done, you couldn’t find anything about not getting the mark when you turned sixteen.

“Geeze, Y/N. You’re really out of it today. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ellen asked you, pulling you from your memories.

“Sorry. My mind seems to have a mind of its own today,” you sighed, glancing around the bar for a moment.

“You still bummed about the soulmate thing?” she asked you sincerely, in the way she did when she was gently trying to get you to talk.

You just shrugged your shoulders before taking off your apron, “I have to go help Bobby at the garage again.” 

“Is it that time already?” Ellen asked, glancing at the clock, then sighed. “Alright. Tell the old grump I said hi, and don’t let him work you too hard.” That made you chuckle, “He never does, and I’ll let him know.”

Again, your mind drifted as you drove down the semi-busy streets to Bobby’s garage. He and your Aunt had been friends for a long time, so he was practically family, as was his wife, Jodi. Growing up, you’d spent half your time in the garage, helping Bobby fix cars.

Sioux Falls wasn’t a big town, but wasn’t tiny either. You knew most of the people who lived there, and they knew you. It was more like more of them knew of you, the girl with no soulmate. You sighed as you drove your 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, a gift from Bobby you had to fix up, down the lonely road leading to his garage. 

“Got something for ya, kid, but you gotta fix her up,” Bobby told you when you showed up for your shift that hot summer afternoon.

“I told you. You don’t have to get me a present this year,” you groaned.

A year ago, you began hating your birthdays, and you didn’t want to celebrate this one. You begrudgingly followed him to his garage, then to the side of it, where you noticed the tarp over something.

Bobby walked over and pulled the tarp off, revealing the shell of a 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400. You had fallen in love with muscle cars as a kid, watching The Dukes of Hazzard. Your jaw hit the floor as you ran over to her like a kid on Christmas.

He was smiling from ear to ear as he watched you look over everything, “She’s all yours, but you gotta do the work. You can’t let any other mechanic touch her. I’ll answer any questions, but I ain’t helpin' either.”

“Are you serious, Uncle Bobby?” you asked excitedly, popping the hood of the beat-up frame.

A small smile crossed your expression with that memory as you pulled into the driveway of Bobby’s garage and parked in the back. It seemed like so long ago, but it was one of your fondest memories that had made your birthday not so bad.

“I’m here,” you hollered, heading over to the car you’d been working on for almost a week at this point. 

“How was the bar?” he asked, joining you in the garage.

“I was a space cadet, and Aunt Ellen is worried about me,” you replied, sliding back under the car to finish it up.

“You’re not a space cadet. I just think you can’t focus around all those people anymore. Come work at the garage, full-time,” he told you, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” you answered, tightening down a few more bolts.

“Besides, Jodi misses you being around more often,” Bobby added in an attempt to persuade your decision.

“I miss her too. Oh! Ellen said hi. I don’t know why she doesn’t text you more often,” you replied, sliding out from under the car, looking for yet another tool for yet another size bolt.

When you were in the garage, you always seemed to be able to focus. You knew Bobby had a point, and you’d been considering it for almost a month, but you weren’t about to tell him that. You wanted to let him think it was his idea.

Yeah, your mind drifted, but it was nothing like at the bar. Here, they were little snippets of memories: kids teasing you in high school, adults looking at you like you had two heads, and then there had been attempts to find a job but getting turned down everywhere due to not having the name of your soulmate on your body somewhere. 

By the time your shift ended, you had the car completely finished. Looking down at the car, you stood there, covered with blotches of grease but beaming with pride. 

“I’ll let the owner know she’s ready,” Bobby smiled, now standing next to you. “Think about it, though, okay?”

“I will,” you replied, giving him a hug before you headed home for the night since you’d already cleaned up the tools you’d used.

You lived in a cute little house not far from Bobby’s garage. It was the only thing that you had from your parents, along with a handful of pictures. You’d lost both of them to a car crash when you were only two, having no real memories of them. 

Since you were two when you had lost them, you never asked Jodi what had happened or if anyone else was involved. You honestly didn’t want to know. 

Dropping the things from your pockets on the table, you locked your door and headed to the bathroom. Your thoughts drifted again as you did your typical night routine.

“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time finding work, sweetie. You can’t work here till you’re at least eighteen. I can’t break that law for you,” Ellen sighed.

You crossed your arms and went back outside to your car. You knew why no one in town would hire you, and it was a stupid reason. However, being a teenager still, you were all hormones and now needed to go blow off some steam.

You peeled out of the parking lot and down the road to your parent's place, which would be yours in less than a year. The drive was short due to the speed you’d chosen to go, and a cloud of dust rolled over your car when you parked out back of the house.

Between the punching bag, the target practice, and throwing your knives till your arm was sore, you had finally calmed down some. You made a call to Ellen and told her you were going to sleep at your ‘almost’ house. She didn’t like it but didn’t argue either.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, curled up in the soft bed that would eventually be your permanent room as the sun set slowly. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life hurt more than you’d ever tell anyone.

Dinner that night consisted of leftovers, and you were thankful you’d prepared them ahead of time when the week began—baked chicken, potatoes, and gravy. You were far too out of it to even worry about a vegetable. 

I’ll tell Ellen tomorrow.

Finally deciding to quit working at the bar as you cleaned up dinner and headed to bed, almost feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Slipping under the covers and getting comfortable, you also felt more relaxed than usual. 

—----

Two hours into your shift, and Ellen had already had to pull you out of your head a dozen times. It was Saturday, so even the morning hours were busy today. You were just thankful that you never had to cook, knowing you would have ended up burning most of the food.

“Can you at least pay attention to the ones at the bar? Jo can handle the floor today,” Ellen told you, again sounding worried.

“I’ll try,” you sighed, glancing at the men sitting there.

There was no point in apologizing again. As you began taking care of the drinks, the bell over the door dinged, signifying yet another customer. Typically, you wouldn’t have even looked up, but something pulled at you.

It was three men, none of whom you recognized, and two of them looked to be around your age, with the third being older. All three of them sat at the bar, so you went over to get them drinks.

“What’s your poison?” you asked, putting on that fake work smile and not really looking at them.

“Three beers,” the older of the three said, “And please tell Ellen to come over.”

You were slightly confused but agreed. You set their beers down in front of them, then went to find Ellen in the back. “Hey, there’s a guy out here that asked for you.”

“Did you get his name?” she asked as she dried her hands.

“No. He didn’t say. He’s with two other guys who are younger, though, if that helps?” you replied as you followed her out of the back room.

You stopped halfway down the bar, but you were still behind it, as she was now on the other side, making her way to the three of them. The older man stood, both he and Ellen smiling as they embraced in a hug, which confused you. You managed to keep up with the drinks for those at the bar but couldn’t hear what the four of them were talking about.

“Y/N, come down here and get these boys a refill,” Ellen hollered, motioning for you to go over to them.

Rolling your eyes, you did as she asked, putting on that fake smile again, “Here ya go.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” one of the two younger ones said to you with what looked to be a flirtatious smirk.

“Don’t be flirting with my niece, Dean. She’s still what you’d consider innocent,” Ellen scolded the one who had just spoken to you, but to you, it sounded more like a teasing sort of joking around, which made you slightly curious. “Thanks. Like I need some stranger to know that sort of thing,” you grumbled.

“Sweetie, these are the Winchesters. They’re practically family. You met them when you were little,” Ellen replied, smiling happily.

For a moment, you were somewhat dumbfounded as to what to even say. You couldn’t seem to remember meeting the three of them. Ellen introduced you to John Winchester, the father of Dean and Sam, who were four years apart in age.

“I hate to do it, Aunt Ellen, but, I need to talk to you about something before I leave in ten,” you finally told her.

“What’s up?” she asked, looking quite puzzled.

“I need to take some time off for a while,” you mumbled, feeling bad.

“Take all the time you need, sweetie. I know things have been rough for you lately,” she said softly, then she gave you a hug. “And tell that old fart to stop by sometime.”

“Thanks for understanding, and I will,” you replied, relieved as you hugged her back. Then you looked over at the Winchesters, “It was nice to have at least met the three of you since I don’t remember meeting you before now. Not sure when I’ll see you again, though.”

“How come?” John asked, seeming fairly curious.

“I’m going to be working my other job full-time for a while. It’s the love of my life, honestly,” you replied with a smile, giving John your full attention.

“What’s that, kid?” he asked, which made you wonder if perhaps he knew Bobby since Bobby called you that all the time.

“I fix cars. Hate to do it, but I have to run,” you replied quickly, heading for the door and out to your Baby. However, your heart about stopped when you saw the black 67’ Chevy Impala parked next to your Firebird.

“Damn…” you breathed out in quiet shock and awe.

Shit! I’m gonna be late.

With that thought, you shook your head, pulled your gaze from the car, and drove to Bobby’s garage for your shift. It indeed was a beautiful car, and you knew that no one in town drove one of those. Through deductive reasoning, you figured it had to belong to the Winchesters. You just weren’t sure which one. Whichever one it was, though, they loved that car, and you knew it with how well it had been taken care of.

The leaves on the trees were changing colors already, and the light breeze was finally cooler than the summer heat that you hated. However, you didn’t notice much today; you were too excited to give Bobby the news.

You knew the smile you couldn’t hide would give it away, but you stepped into his little office anyway. You didn’t even have time to say anything before he did.

Bobby was smiling from ear to ear when he looked up at you, “Nice to know Ellen didn’t give you a hard time about being here full time. You can whip those boys on the morning shift into shape for me.”

“Like they’d listen to me,” you chuckled but rolled your eyes.

“They better, since you’re gonna be their boss from here on out,” he told you seriously.

“Wait? What?” you asked, in complete surprise.

“Kid, you know your shit, and you’re good at your job. You’re better at your job than the four boys I got workin here already. I’d rather just have you than all of them 'cause I know you’d get the job done like it should be, and you never cut corners,” he explained, being completely serious.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, still shocked.

“Just say thanks and be here at six tomorrow morning. Take the afternoon off and rest up,” he smiled.

You went over and wrapped him up in a hug. He knew the only reason you worked in the garage late was to avoid the boys he had working there in the morning. You had tried doing the dating thing after your sixteenth birthday, but realized quickly that no boy wanted anything to do with you.

That night, you were still smiling, even if you were apprehensive about being someone’s boss, let alone four grown men. People in the town were mostly courteous toward you but treated you like a plague of some sort since your soulmate's name never appeared on your body. 

—-------

As you got ready that morning, you attempted to calm your nerves, but it didn’t work. You gave yourself mental pep talks all morning and even on the drive, but that wasn’t helping either. Your heart was still racing as you parked out back like you usually did.

Bobby was the only one at the garage for the moment, and he even told you to breathe more than once. He explained that you’d still be working on cars, but now you’d also be keeping an eye on the boys he had working there and telling them when to take their breaks. It seemed simple enough.

Benny, Cas, Garth, and Jack were decent guys and were all friends. They’d spend time at the bar in the evenings when you were at the garage. It was how you had avoided a lot of people in the town since they really wanted nothing to do with you. The part you were worried about was interacting with them, as their boss. Bobby was standing next to you as the four of them arrived and mingled into the garage.

“Boys, meet your new boss,” Bobby said sternly, and all four of them looked up at you.

You were sure your heartbeat could be heard throughout the room as you froze under their gaze. The only one who didn’t look at you like you were a waste of space or something to avoid was Garth, and you made a mental note of that.

Something in you snapped with how they looked at you, and you laid into them before Bobby could comment on their expressions. “Look, I know that at least three of you would rather not work with me. I’m not a bitch, but I will be if I have to be. You don’t like this, there’s the door,” you told them sternly, putting your hands on your hips.

“Seriously?” Benny asked, annoyed. His Cajun accent was thick, and if it weren’t for his attitude, you probably could have listened to the man talk all day.

“Yes, Benny. She’s got the right to fire you if need be. I suggest you don’t give her a reason,” Bobby replied, crossing his arms, almost daring the man to challenge his decision.

Garth stepped forward, though, with that kind smile he always had, “I, for one, am looking forward to working with you, Y/N. You seem like a nice person, fair.”

Your expression instantly softened, and you smiled at him. “Thanks, Garth.”

“Alright, get to work,” Bobby told all of you before he headed into his office to keep an eye on things.

You turned from the four of them and headed toward the newest of the cars that had been brought in the day before. Your nerves were shot, but you were proud of yourself for standing up to the three of them. Pausing for a brief moment as you looked down at the car, you decided on something.

I’m gonna just be me. If they don’t like it, they can quit.

You turned on the radio to the classic rock station, then got to work on the car. Benny raised an eyebrow and just watched you silently before he got to work with the other three. It was odd for you with the other four working there, too. It was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself keeping an eye on them, even while you worked.

An hour into the shift, Cas had stopped working and sat on one of the barstools, sipping some water. You watched him out of the corner of your eye for a few minutes while still focusing on your current task. Five minutes later, he was back to work. You took mental note of it and focused on your task again.

Each of them did that, taking turns to sit for a few minutes, have water, and then return to work. It puzzled you, but you weren’t ready to ask them why they did it, at least not yet. 

Just before nine, you heard it before you saw it. The beautiful purr of that Impala you had seen the night before. A smirk crossed your lips while you were unbolting the upper portion of the water pump for the current car in front of you. 

The Impala stopped, and then she was silent. You could clearly hear three sets of footsteps heading into the garage. The four boys erupted with greetings to the Winchesters, more Dean than the other two. Even Bobby joined in. 

So, they do know each other. Too bad the boys know them too. So much for maybe making a friend now.

You sighed and slid under the car, going for the bottom bolts now that the top ones were loose, completely ignoring the ruckus of greetings going on only about twenty feet away from you.

“Kid, you gonna come say hi?” you heard Bobby ask, and you realized he was standing next to you.

“I really wanted to get this finished, since the part finally came in, and this poor car has been sitting here for a week waiting,” you replied without moving out from under the car.

“Kid, don’t make me pull you outta there,” he told you a bit more sternly, and you knew he’d do it.

“Fine,” you grumbled, sliding out from under the car.

“So much for not running into you again, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, which made you roll your eyes.

“Dean’s gonna be starting tomorrow morning. Dean, she’ll be your boss, so don’t try anything funny. She’s also practically my niece,” Bobby told him, far sterner than you’d heard him talk to anyone before, which only piqued your curiosity as to what their past entailed.

“I’ll behave, Bobby, I promise,” Dean told him, somewhat seriously. 

You noticed a small twinkle in not only Dean’s eye, but also in Bobby’s. It was like there was something they both knew but weren’t saying, at least not in front of you.

“You better, boy. I got no problems telling your dad and making him fire you,” Bobby replied, glancing at John.

That was when it hit you. You’d seen the initials JW on several different pieces of paperwork and even a couple of packages that had been delivered to the garage. John was Bobby’s partner in the business, and Dean was supposed to inherit it when John passed or retired. You were a bit surprised, though, that you had the power to fire the boss's son or at least write him up if you had to.

John’s laughter filled the garage at Bobby’s statement, “If I have to get involved, you’ll be in far more trouble than just losing your job.” There was a joke in there, but you could also hear the hint of seriousness in his tone.

What do the three of them know but aren’t saying around me? This is so frustrating.

“I said I’d behave,” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the car closest to him while the boys gave him a hard time. But it was there, even if only a hint of it, a smirk, and you noticed.

That was when John and Bobby both turned toward you, and for some reason, it made you nervous. “We’re having a little get-together tonight at Harvelle’s, and you’re invited. Sam graduated and is getting a full ride for law school, and that calls for a celebration,” John told you with a far softer smile than you thought the man was capable of.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” you replied, completely unsure of the idea of being around people who really wanted nothing to do with you.

“Good. Then we’ll see you there around say, seven?” John replied.

“Okay,” you answered, not sure what else to say.

Due to your attention being on John and Bobby, you missed the silent conversations going on between Dean, Sam, and the four grease monkeys on the far side of the garage. Dean was mostly watching you while Benny and Cas were telling him things, about you. Sam was also watching you, but his was more out of curiosity than anything else.

John and Bobby hung out in the office with the door closed for at least another hour. Dean and Sam were distracting the other four while they worked. You, well, you were changing out the water pump, ignoring all of them. It was what hurt the least. 

While you were tightening down the bolts under the car, you noticed a pair of feet standing next to you.

“You really don’t remember us, do you?” he asked.

“Sorry. I really don’t,” you answered, focusing on the bolt that was being a pain to get to.

“Wow. Kinda surprised since we went to the same schools and grew up in the same town,” he chuckled quietly, and you realized it was Sam and not Dean. Sam had a softer voice, and he didn’t call you sweetheart.

“I’m really sorry. I was kind of a loner,” you told him and finally got the bolt tightened down.

Sliding out from under the car and looking up at him, you felt like an ant with how tall he was. You shook off the feeling, got to your feet, and bent over into the engine so you could finish bolting the water pump in place.

“I remember. I heard about what happened, or uh, I mean- what didn’t happen when you turned sixteen,” he told you with that softness you were thankful for.

You shrugged your shoulders briefly, “Doesn’t matter. At least Bobby let me work here. All I ask is that you aren’t being nice to me out of pity. I’d rather be ignored.”

“I don’t pity you. I actually wanted to tell you something I found out while I was at college. It’s rare, like it only happens to one in a billion people. A traumatic event before the age of five can leave a child too scared to get their soulmate’s name when they turn sixteen,” he explained.

You froze where you were. It was more than anything you’d been able to find, and for a moment, you wanted to hope. You quickly brushed it away, though, remembering how badly you’d felt the last time you got your hopes up.

“You gonna keep going or just leave me hanging like that?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended.

Sam took a deep breath, and you missed him glancing at his brother momentarily, “Well, what I read said that the other person still gets their soulmate’s name. The one that went through the trauma has to fully heal from it before they get their soulmate’s name.”

You rolled your eyes, “Kinda hard to heal from something I don’t remember.”

“I just wanted you to know that me and my brother don’t see you like others do, and we’d like to be your friend, if you want,” he replied, then walked away to leave you to your thoughts.

Great. I don’t even know what to do to heal that sort of thing. I don’t even remember my parents. And now, the boss’s kids want to be friends with me. No, that can’t go horribly wrong, can it? Plus, I have to go sit through a celebration with people I don’t remember and others who want nothing to do with me, even if Ellen, Bobby, and Jodi will be there.

You focused on the car but finished it quickly before the Winchesters were even ready to leave. After wiping off your hands, you closed the hood and put the tools away before driving the car out to the finished area so it could wait for its owner to pick it up. When you headed back inside, your eyes were only on the office door, which was still closed. You didn’t see Dean watching you again.

“Hey, Bobby. Cars finished. I didn’t see anything else out back. What do you want me to work on?” you asked, setting the keys on his desk so he could get the paperwork together.

“How about you give Dean the tour? Show him where everythings at?” John suggested with a smirk before Bobby could say a word. “I figured Benny would do that, since they seem like friends,” you replied, not wanting to interrupt the six of them.

“I’m sure he could, but he won’t. You’re their boss. Comes with the territory,” John told you.

“Yes, Sir,” you replied in a slight mumble, heading back out of the office, closing the door, and then leaning on it.

As you crossed your arms, you watched the six of them. They looked like they were enjoying whatever conversation was happening between them, with Dean laughing at something he must have found funny. With a deep sigh, you walked over to them, slipping your hands into your pockets.

There was instant silence the moment you got close to them, but you didn’t let the hurt show, “John said I should give you a tour and show you where everything is,” you explained to Dean, not really looking at him.

Dean glanced at the office door then back down at you, “If that’s what my dad said, then lead the way, Sweetheart.”

Why does he have to keep calling me that? It’s not like he knows me. Maybe he calls all girls that, and it’s just his thing or something like that. 

“Yeah, not like you been in here a day of your life,” Benny teased him, which made you look up at Benny, confused. “Huh?” was the only word you could manage.

“Oh yeah, Dean’s been working in here since he was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Cas chuckled, teasing Dean.

Your gaze went from each of them and then to Dean, tilting your head in a fair amount of confusion. Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked away from you.

“What’s wrong, Dean? Worried she’ll figure it out?” Benny stated.

“Figure what out?” you asked as Dean glared at Benny.

“Nothing,” Dean snapped, still glaring at Benny.

So, Dean’s got some secret he doesn’t want me to know about. 

“Do you still want that tour I’m supposed to give you?” you asked with a sigh, looking more at the floor than anywhere else.

“Dean, you were here less than a month ago. Did you really forget where everything is already?” Cas teasingly asked him.

You’d had enough, so headed out of the garage, tossing your hands up and hollering, “Never mind,” just before making it outside. Once you made it to your car, you texted Bobby and told him you were heading home since there weren’t any more cars to work on at the moment.

The six of them watched as you drove past the garage entrance and then down the driveway. You missed Dean punching Cas in the jaw. You missed John and Bobby going off on Benny and Cas. You also missed Dean going off on Benny. You were too pissed and hurt to even look back.

Bobby didn’t text you back, but you knew if he had an issue or needed you at the garage, he would have said so. The moment you got home, you went straight for the punching bag, needing to get the anger out of your system so you could shower.

How am I gonna get out of tonight? Can I even get out of tonight? Probably not. I’ll have to show up, at least. I can always leave early, though, right? 

You groaned at the thought of having to be around people, knowing full well that getting out of it, even early, was going to be difficult. At least you weren’t required to dress up any, so you went for a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt, and your favorite deep green flannel pulled over it. At the garage, you typically had your hair pulled back, but for tonight, you left it down.

Parking near the back of Harvelle’s Bar & Grill, you were just staring at the building, dreading going inside and having to “people,” as you called it. The sun had already set, and the darkness was allowing the glimmer of stars to be seen in the night sky, but you didn’t notice them, just the bar in front of you.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2

Story Master List Main Master List

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @jamerlynn @jackles010378 @bruhidkjustwannaread @onthehuntforshinies

@chriszgirl92 @angzls @xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @onlyangel-444

@nancymcl @muhahaha303 @suckitands33 @kr804573 @justrandomthougt

@suckitands33 @mxtansy @scarletqueenx @krazykelly @roseblue373

@whimsyfinny @ladysparkles78 @aaathazagoraphobiaaa @hobby27 @perpetualabsurdity

@cicibunbuns @n-o-p-e-never @vanessa-boo @foxyjwls007

If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | hands rated E for everyone

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of what the boys think when dating someone who knows how to fight/isn’t afraid to start one

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! slight violence, cute content of the boys being impressed and slightly worried for your safety

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

❀ he’s in shock when he finds out you used to box as a kid growing up

❀ never would’ve imagined that you out of all people know how to fight (mainly because how gentle you are towards him)

❀ he’s been tempted before to ask you to fight him so he can test out your strength

❀ “no sakura, isn’t that domestic violence? we don’t do that.” he’d scold himself in his head

❀ he will unintentionally check you out at times trying to figure out how strong/athletic you are

❀ wonders if you can kick his ass

❀ he’s so curious on who’s stronger between you two

❀ stares in awe when he sees you punch someone

❀ he’s like an excited kid when he sees you fight for the first time

❀ gets flattered if you ever pick a fight over him

❀ will blush if you come to save him (even though he doesn’t need the protection)

❀ he’s highkey your number one fan/supporter and fails to hide it

❀ bro is geeking once you ask him if he’d like to see you train

❀ he thinks you’re super cool but won’t admit it due to shyness

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

❀ was surprised when he saw you sucker punch some guy who was harassing you

❀ you’re not really a reactive or angry person so fighting is rare for you

❀ he’s relieved you know how to defend yourself

❀ likes how you don’t really resort to violence although you can/have the option

❀ he’s not too excited over knowing since almost everyone he knows can fight

❀ doesn’t really treat you any differently

❀ makes sure you know you have him to protect you now

❀ “i’m glad you can keep yourself safe, remember I’m also here to protect you.”

❀ warms his heart when he sees you get riled up for him

❀ calms you down with hugs

❀ is caught off guard once you tell him he can rely on you

❀ “don’t worry Ume, you have me now to save you!”

❀ smiles in response knowing he can handle himself

❀ is still flattered you’re willing to go the extra mile for him

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

❀ is amazed by your fighting style

❀ cheerful whenever you win a fight and congratulates you

❀ prefers if you don’t fight

❀ will talk you out of a fight before it escalates

❀ he knows you can handle yourself but can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt

❀ will tend to your wounds if you ever do get hurt

❀ will be on stand by during any fight you have to ensure you don’t get badly injured

❀ “it’s not worth it, let’s go. i’ll buy you some ice cream.”

❀ will calm your nerves/anger by letting you vent it out and being there for you

❀ “you’re so passionate.” he’ll usually smile at you and ruffle your hair

❀ gets flattered if you ever get mad for him but lets you know it’s okay

❀ “don’t worry so much about me, i don’t really care as long as you’re okay.”

❀ you both feel very safe around each other

❀ you’ve become a lot more gentle around him

❀ you don’t really start fights anymore which he’s grateful for since he prioritizes your safety

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

❀ he’s slightly amused by it

❀ very impressed but won’t say much since he doesn’t want encourage you

❀ only cares if you get hurt

❀ most people stopped bothering you when they heard you were dating Togame

❀ he’s glad he knows you can take care of yourself when he’s not around

❀ he’ll personally take on your battles so you don’t have to

❀ doesn’t want anyone to bug you

❀ shocked when he catches you defending him

❀ his heart melts since he’s not used to having someone else wanting to protect him

❀ doesn’t feel alone with you

❀ despite him being so much larger than you he can’t help but feel safe around you

❀ don’t expect him to admit that, he won’t

❀ maybeeee he’ll admit it in private when you’re sleeping/napping against him

❀ is impressed by how you’re able to control your emotions at most times

❀ tells anyone who tries to start something went you off

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

❀ bro is geeking over it

❀ expect him to be there at all your fights

❀ isn’t above cheering you on

❀ “GET HERRRR (y/n)!!”

❀ “shouldn’t you stop that?” “…am i supposed to?”

❀ is bolting to go find you anytime someone comes up to him while saying “Choji, (y/n) is fighting again.”

❀ doesn’t really mind your fights as long as you’re not losing yourself during it

❀ seriously is your #1 fan

❀ will break up the fight if it goes on for too long

❀ definitely wants to make sure it’s over before anything too rash happens

❀ he’s lowkey in awe

❀ stares at you with admiration whenever he sees you practicing or training

❀ he’s still your #1 fan even after you stop fighting so much

❀ falls even harder for you after you defend him from strangers

❀ he’s still insecure about his past reputation so seeing you be so defensive over him makes him feel loved

❀ he’s glad he has someone as strong as you in his corner (not just physically strong but emotionally strong as well)