#i have said it before and i will say it again

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter five | formula one imagine

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

one big car launch with every driver in attendance - what can go wrong?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

whatever bright spark decided that formula one needed one big, fancy car launch must want y/n dead. here she stood in one of the many green rooms in a black dress that’s a little too tight and an absolute pain to sit down in.

on one side of the room george sits in his dressing gown being doted on five different people while he talks down the phone in a tone too loud for the crowded room. kimi, on the other hand, sits on the couch on the other side, having waved off all of the people trying to smear yet another cream on his face.

“are you just going to be haunting me all season?” george said as he hung up the phone. glaring at y/n through the mirror.

“if i’m haunting you, does that mean you did something wrong?” y/n gasps, “am i the skeleton in your closet, georgie?”

the mercedes personnel in the green room were still, almost waiting for it to hit boiling point and all spill over. george and y/n stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the next move. george steadily looked y/n up and down, not being subtle at all. y/n raised her eyebrow at the brit.

“i could get used to you in my colours,” george said with a smirk.

“bore off russell, i don’t wear anything for you. these will be seen as kimi’s colours before you know it.”

a knock on the door signalled the start of the show. george stood up and took off his robe, revealing the new mercedes racesuit for the season. the brit made his way to the door but before he left, he turned to y/n and said, “don’t get too comfortable, i have my eye on you”

“oh georgie, you always have,” y/n flirted before schooling her face, “and how has that worked out for you?”

the brit pointed to his racesuit, “better than it has for you.”

that was a low blow, but y/n was prepared to play it that way if that was the game for the season. george looked at her again, as if to challenge her, but y/n stayed silent though her stare was unwavering. she had said a lot worse about herself to herself after the crash.

with that george turned and left, calling out to alex down the corridor.

“i really don’t understand him,” kimi said, “it was only like a week or two ago he was cussing you out in monaco, then today he checks you out but then threatens you like two seconds later?”

“first lesson of the year, kimi. do not trust a word that man says to you.”

the pair linked arms and made their way out of the green room. there was a gaggle of drivers at the end of the corridor, all decked out in their racesuits except the ferrari boys who were in normal suits. the group fell silent as they all turned to see the new arrivals.

“i didn’t know it was bring your mum to work day?” alex called out as they neared the group, smiling as he came to hug her.

a french-accented voice hollered a ‘milf’ from the back of the group, y/n suspected it was pierre, but paid no mind. an offended squeak followed as y/n looked up to see max delivering a slap to the back of his head.

“i’m just dropping him off, i gotta get to my seat before i’m roped into an interview. i had to sneak in this afternoon, i swear sky sports are like stalking me!”

the group watched along as y/n leaned in to whisper into kimi’s ear, “remember what i told you. smile, be likeable and tell jokes. these people are underestimating you, let them. we’ll do our real talking in the car. good luck and try and have some fun.”

the pair did their ‘handshake’, which really was just a pinky promise, and broke apart. y/n looks back at the group one more time, smiles at max and takes her leave. just a couple paces down the corridor, a voice called out her name.

“y/n, hey!” lewis called, catching up to her quickly, “i didn’t think i’d see you back here tonight.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, to be fair. kimi is technically an adult now, but i still didn’t want to leave him on his own here of all places.”

lewis laughed as the pair looked back at the group. kimi had nestled himself next to ollie, quietly talking to each other with esteban looking over both of them. y/n caught the gaze of esteban and the frenchman gave her a quick nod before inserting himself into the conversation. the height difference between kimi and esteban was comical, but y/n was happy knowing esteban would look out for him in places she couldn’t be.

“i didn’t think you would like the whole mentor role, being so young and everything, but you seem to be doing a good job.”

“thank you lewis, but honestly he makes it very easy,” y/n looked at the group again with a fond look on her face.

lewis brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, “i thought i’d never see that look on your face again.”

y/n looked down and blushed, shaking lewis’ hand off. “i am happy. a lot happier than i expected to be, anyway.”

“i’m happy that you’re happy. i’m happy you’re back, i won’t keep my distance this time, even if you’re in the home of the enemy now.”

y/n laughed, “well i thought it was bad going back to your ex, and look at me now. so maybe they’re not as much as an enemy as you think.”

an announcement from further down the corridor cute the conversation there, lewis tries not to look bothered, but y/n can still tell.

“looks like you’re needed elsewhere, superstar,” y/n said with a wink, “try not to let charles outshine you too much.”

“he wishes.”

y/n watched him walk away and was confused. lewis had never expressed interest in her before, platonic or romantic. even when she was a young rookie with stars in her eyes, she was never on his radar. was she now? the visit in london had been weird and the way his eyes had been fixed on her since she arrived today was even weirder.

y/n didn’t really have the time to be grappling with that struggle today, not with everything else going on. the audience seemed like enough distance between her and lando, but after monaco, there was no real knowing what could happen. george was just as confusing as his compatriot, with harsh words but also a glimmer of something else too.

she needed a glass of champagne pronto.

max watched the interaction between y/n and lewis like a hawk, so focused that he didn’t realise that he had formed quite an audience. nico hulkenberg, kimi, ollie and esteban watched him try and conceal his feelings, but his face showed every thought.

“you want to make it any more obvious that you’re jealous?” nico said, nudging max to break him out of his daze.

“i’m not jealous, i just wonder what they actually have to talk about…”

“you’re not jealous you say? you didn’t even glare at him this much during 2021.” esteban chimed in.

max furrowed his brows and forced himself to look away. he already felt guilty for harbouring these feelings for y/n and now he’s faced with a curious look from kimi, making him feel even worse. he did not want to make the same mistake as lando and george had in the past. he meant it when he said he just wanted to exist with her.

“kimi, how would you feel about having max as your dad?” ollie said, hiding slightly behind esteban.

“he’s very good with the cats?”

“thanks, that’s such a glowing recommendation, kimi, thanks!”

kimi held up his hands in surrender but max couldn’t be angry at the italian - plus he did take very good care of his cats and brando. in fact, he had nearly thrown his back out, much to red bull’s chagrin, building a new cat tower so brando could watch the birds from his preferred spot. the cat had settled in well in his place in monaco while y/n had been staying, the dutchman didn’t want to think too much about what it could mean, but it was on his mind.

“i just mean i caught you googling how to make sure your cat is getting enough vitamin d because you were worried about how cloudy it’s been in monaco?”

kimi tried to backpedal, but his anecdote was overheard by more drivers, bringing them into the conversation.

“are you being for real? vitamins are just pseudoscience dude,” pierre said but isack popped his head into the circle to say, “vitamins are real? and vitamin d deficiency is actually a really huge problem.”

“thank you isack!”

“as if i’m taking health advice from a rookie,” pierre laughed. yuki took his turn to pipe up next, “i saw you eat a whole jar of peanut butter in one sitting last winter break? what do you know about health?”

“why is it gang up on pierre hour? why aren’t we focusing on the real issue here? like how pathetic max is about y/n?”

max sputtered as even more drivers joined the conversation.

“i am not pathetic. brando is practically my son. kimi back me up, doesn’t he love me?”

“he does -” kimi started defending max before charles butted in with a: “calling for help from the other son? we see how it is verstappen.”

this was a losing battle. max just hoped it stayed this light hearted but he saw lando and george approaching the group.

“max is not my dad, but i wouldn’t mind. he drove all the way to nice to pick up my parcel because i didn’t understand monaco postal charges!”

poor kimi was trying to help, but he was just making it inadvertently worse.

“this is making your pseudoadoption last year look like child’s play, oscar,” alex said, earning him a whack from charles.

“kimi is not my son, but that doesn’t mean i won’t look out for him. this is a horrible place to come when you’re already disliked. some people, not naming names, have made it clear they have a problem with him and y/n, so it’s simply my moral duty to look out for him.”

the group quietened down, looking amongst each other.

“why am i so out of the loop, who is bullying this literal child?” nico said, pulling kimi into his chest, the italian letting out a squeak as the german petted him. “so? do tell.”

for two people who were very eager to call y/n and kimi every name under the sun just a week ago, they were very silent in that moment.

“oh! we’re talking about the lovely cocktail party i threw that was ruined by lando and george!” charles blurted out, he grabbed fernando’s hand, “it was so nice, i even brought olives, but they came in spouting all this shit about y/n and kimi and seduction and older women?”

both brits scratched the backs of their necks. the cocktail party drama was not a good move from them, especially so close to the start of the season.

“it wasn’t quite like that?” george hurried out.

“you accused y/n of trying to sleep with me?” oscar said.

“you said that i was going the max verstappen route of getting with an older ‘problematic’ woman?” kimi added from nico’s side.

“you also kinda implicated yourself in y/n’s crash?” alex heaped on for good measure.

“alex!?” george and lando shouted, “whose side are you meant to be on?”

“i’m not on a “side” because i’m not fucking five, but i will point out hypocrisy and stupidity and that’s both of you. come on, it’s 2025 and you guys are still stuck in like 2017.”

“right, i feel really stupid because what the fuck are you people talking about and why wasn’t i invited to this party?” fernando said, a confused look on his face.

“lando and george are still hung up on y/n years later even though she never actually expressed interest in them, max has the best odds on actually sealing the deal and i don’t know, kimi is getting shit because he brought her back and none of them can actually regulate their emotions!” charles said, exasperated, “keep up grandpa, you’ve been here the whole time!”

“i do not have the ‘best odds’ because y/n isn’t a horse, you don’t bet on women?” max bit back.

“actually i bet on women all the time,” yuki said but when he saw how the group were looking at him he added, “ufc, duh!”

even as they were herded towards the backstage, the group continued bickering like children.

“all i’m saying is that your crush is super obvious and you need to be careful! y/n will know and will use it against you, just look at what happened with me and george!” lando hissed at max.

the dutchman glared at the brit, this really had gone too far. “can you like actually give me an example of where she ‘led you on’ i am genuinely curious,” max snipped, “quickly.”

lando immediately looked at the floor and bit his lip. max began tapping his foot with an impatient look.

“well she would be super flirty with me in the videos the team would make us film?” lando didn’t sound convinced, and max didn’t buy a single second of it.

“if that’s what you think flirting is i feel sorry for all of your ex girlfriends, you must be a horrible boyfriend - ouch!” charles was cut off by a shove from george.

“stay out of this charles!”

“i won’t stay out of this, y/n is actually a friend of mine. yeah that’s right she doesn’t hate me because i don’t assume that any girl who is fractionally nice to me is in love with me.”

“lando you basically tortured that girl her entire formula one career, do you need to do it now as well?” max said, “i think this season will be a lot easier for you if you drop this now.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.”

all the bickering surrounding the pair ceased, tension rising in the air. the call for the mclaren boys drew lando out of his stare down with max. the brit joined oscar at the front of the queue and painted on his PR smile.

y/n had found her way to her seat, flanked by natalie pinkham on one side and jenson button on the other. there goes her plans for a quiet evening.

“so the rumours are true,” jenson said before jumping up to give her a hug, “i’ve missed you, rocky”

y/n flushed at the nickname. since her first ever race in formula one, jenson had crowned her his ‘pocket rocket’ which had eventually been worn down to just rocky. she hadn’t heard it in so long, jenson’s appearances being relegated to messages via sara or flowers that only gave away his identity with the use of rocky.

“did sky set up this seating arrangement? are you going to ambush me for an interview?”

“i can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” jenson clutched at his imaginary pearls, “and as if you can say no to me anyway.”

the pair took their seats as the show started. natalie handed her a glass of champagne and whispered in her ear, “you might need this.” well that doesn’t bode well.

the two mclaren drivers made their way out onto stage, joined by zak and andrea. y/n leaned into jenson, “i don’t understand why he insists on being everywhere, have we not suffered enough?”

jenson tried to stifle his laugh, “are you sure you don’t want to work in commentary?”

“i think it’s best i keep my opinion on these men to myself.”

the mclaren spiel followed the closely the same scripts they used when y/n still raced for them, though a healthy dose of constructors champions boasting had been added. a second questionable decision from formula one reared it’s head when nico rosberg asked his first unscripted question:

“so boys, how do you feel about the return of former mclaren driver y/n y/ln to the paddock? excited to see her?”

y/n swore she could see lando’s eye twitch from her front row seat. there was an awkward pause and y/n could feel the rest of the audience tense. even though the general public didn’t know the ins and outs of the fall out, there was definitely rising suspicion.

nico found y/n in the audience and gave her such a shit-eating grin that she almost didn’t care about the situation he just put her in.

“we’re of course over the moon to see her back in the paddock. i know i’ve harboured a lot of guilt as to how i ended up with my seat, so i’m happy that y/n can see me in action and hopefully i can continue to make her proud!” oscar said with a genuine smile, the only convincing one from the men clad in orange.

“continue to?” nico asked, “have you had confirmation of this?”

y/n’s eyes snapped to oscar who despite receiving glares from his boss, continued on.

“we spoke at charles’ cocktail party. i’ve always been a fan of hers and it was great to finally set the record straight. she was a lot more graceful than i would’ve been in her position. to be honest i was a bit of a weepy mess, but she was very supportive. i’m only slightly jealous of kimi…”

“very nice. did you get any insight on her opinion on hungary?” nico pushed, only to be cut off by zak.

“if you so desperately want her opinion on everything, you can wait until you’re on sky’s dime. this is a car launch, no? we’re confident in our car for this season and intend on winning both championships. and do you know how we’re going to do that? with the two drivers on stage right now, not one who was a flash in the pan four years ago.”

you could hear a pin drop in the venue. even lando had a shocked look on his face as he and oscar exchanged a look.

“that’s fighting talk from the man who ended her career, but what do i know?” nico said sharply but then turned to the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, mclaren!”

there was tentative applause from crowd and when y/n and oscar made eye contact she gave him a small smile. this was only the first team…

nico looked for y/n in the front row and gave her a thumbs up to which she shook her head violently. jenson burst out laughing, “well, i don’t think we’ll be having this as the car launch format again.”

“i don’t know about you but i’m throughly entertained,” natalie said, “if nico was like that with mclaren, i can’t wait for ferrari!”

the next few teams were decidedly less dramatic. y/n could see kimi and george lining up next to come on stage and she hoped the italian remembered her advice.

george walked on stage with confident strides, followed by toto and finally kimi. the italian looked out at the audience, squinting from the harsh lights but calming his features when he saw y/n. she gave him a thumbs up and got a smile in return.

“you’re loving this mum role aren’t you?” jenson said.

“you’re making me feel old, stop. but yes i would kill myself if anything happened to him, so i guess so.”

back on stage, nico had started his interview. first toto was being grilled about the hopes for the season and how life at mercedes would be without lewis hamilton. the german was clearly trying to bait his former boss into giving him a juicy soundbite.

“kimi, let’s come to you now. you’re first season in formula one and you’ve already brought in the big guns? y/n y/ln as your mentor, that’s a big statement.”

kimi looked startled and his eyes snapped to meet y/n’s. she nodded to him, urging him to answer.

“why wouldn’t i want a legend of the sport like her as my mentor? she still knows what she’s doing, and if it ruffles some feathers in the paddock at the same time, what’s the harm?”

she was so proud of her protégé. jenson choked on his champagne at kimi’s answer, “kids got balls.”

“well, well, well. you’re not beating around the bush are you? but do tell me, kimi, what’s so special about you that y/n would come out of retirement?”

“i’ll save that answer for australia, nico,” kimi said, surprised by the laughs from the audience, “but maybe i’ve just got a charm the rest of the grid doesn’t?”

“holy shit,” natalie said, “was this the strategy, y/n?”

“i told him to make them like him? are you not entertained?”

nico, for once, was speechless on stage. george huffed next to toto, waiting for his turn to talk. the german clocked onto this and a devilish smile broke out on his face.

“so george, you and y/n grew up together… do you not have charm? as far as we can tell, you haven’t spoken to y/n in years?”

y/n’s mouth dropped open. jenson was right, there’s no way this format, at least with nico hosting, was ever happening again.

“i have more than enough charm, thank you nico. are you going to ask us anymore questions about the season or is it all just tabloid questions from you tonight?”

“tabloid?! well, now that makes me think you’ve got something to hide… but as for your 2025 season, are you afraid that you might lose to an 18-year-old rookie?”

george sputtered in response, “i have no fear of losing, i just beat a seven time world champion, a rookie, no offence, has no bearing on my season.”

“that’s a big claim, george. you better hope you stick to it. it’ll be your sixth season in formula one, do you think you’ll finally be able to claim the number one driver role?”

george’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to remain calm. he made eye contact with y/n briefly, giving her the subtlest glare he could.

“i think i made a very good case for myself for the last two seasons and toto has faith in me to lead this team back to where they should be.”

nico had a wolfish grin on his face, he was enjoying this psychological torture a little too much.

“you don’t think toto has more faith in kimi, a driver he allowed to skip an entire step on the junior ladder and is giving his formula one debut at just 18? and straight into a mercedes rather than say… a williams?”

george’s shiny mask was starting to slip. this was meant to be a fun event for fans but had descended into a nico rosberg masterclass of making everyone suffer - and for once y/n was enjoying it.

“classy as always, nico,” george said.

“it’s what i do best,” nico laughed to himself, “back to you kimi, are you intimidated at all by your senior teammate? do you think you can make a case for yourself as the number one driver?”

the italian paused for a moment, thinking to y/n’s advice - he needed people to like him.

“i’m more than happy to play a team game to bring mercedes back to the top,” he smiled to toto, “but make no mistake i’m here to win and i won’t just step aside without good reason.”

“well, this is a duo i’ll be watching closely this season. mercedes!”

the trio shuffled off of stage and y/n let out a sigh of relief, she could throw back as much champagne as she wanted now.

another couple of teams made their way past nico’s questioning, but as nico hulkenberg and gabriel bortoleto made their way off of the stage the audience held their breath. next was ferrari.

charles, lewis and fred vasseur made their way on stage, and as has become classic fashion, lewis situated himself as far from nico as possible.

“welcome, welcome. a different line up this year and much to think about, do you think you can finally bring the championship back to italy?”

fred started on what was likely a pre-written script and y/n tuned out for a second. the ferrari boys looked nothing short of glamorous in their tailored black suits with the yellow of the ferrari logo popping on the left breast. both men looked assured, no nerves, just pure confidence - the type of confidence that draws you to a person.

y/n caught lewis’ eye and he gave her a quick wink, something that did not go unnoticed by jenson beside her.

“what was that all about, rocky?” jenson whispered. y/n kept looking forward, ignoring jenson’s stare burning into the side of her head. the brit kept poking her, “i’m not going to stop until you answer me!”

y/n batted his hand away, “i don’t know what you’re talking about old man, leave me alone!”

“i saw that, hell, the whole place saw that! you are aware that is a man 14 years your senior!”

y/n downed her champagne and whispered to jenson, “listen, i don’t know what the fuck is happening! he came to my apartment and he’s being really nice? i don’t know?!”

jenson looked between the two and grabbed his own champagne. “i was teammates with that guy! you might be a grown up now but he’s really old!”

y/n slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughing out loud. jenson did have a point. was lewis actually flirting with her or was he just being nice? was she falling into the same headspace that lando and george were in with her?

“i am not going to get with lewis, jens. he’s just being nice, that’s all. now shut up i want to see if nico makes the brocedes breakup all of our problem.”

nico had finished his interrogation of charles and set his sights on his former teammate. y/n grabbed jenson’s hand in anticipation.

“so lewis, new team, new you? how do you feel coming into a team where charles has dominated for the last five years?”

lewis gives nico a forced smile, “i am excited for the challenge. there’s a lot of changes coming into this season, people leaving and new faces. it’s best to face a challenge head on rather than running.”

“you didn’t run from mercedes? you didn’t want to stick it out and retire with the team that gave you so much success?”

“you’d know all about running wouldn’t you nico?”

y/n dropped her glass of champagne and the rest of the audience gasped but nico did not look phased at all.

“i am happy with my decision, time will tell if you’ll be happy with yours. charles dealt with sebastian, don’t think he’ll roll over for you.”

charles looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage and fred’s face would tell you he’s at the gallows rather than a car launch.

“was in your brief today to make the vibes in here as rancid as possible? as i said i am excited for the season ahead and nothing you can say today will change that.”

lewis took the lead and left the stage, leaving nico alone with a pleased look on his face. the german found y/n’s gaze again and wiggled his eyebrows. if there was ever a man you need to take the heat off of you, he was the one.

there was one final team to go and this entire nightmare of a night would be over. the final team was none other than red bull - nothing could possibly go wrong here could they?

christian, like the other team principals, started with a long-winded spiel that said a whole lot of nothing. y/n smiled widely when she caught max’s eye and he responded with an eye roll directed at christian’s rambling. the dutchman, for a second, had forgotten he was in fact on stage in front of thousands. the pair stare at each other and bite their lips to keep the laughs in.

jenson leaned in again, “not to keep questioning you, but what is happening here? and don’t lie, i know he’s the only one you kept in contact with and who you have been staying with in monaco.”

“it’s nothing! it’s something? i don’t know what it is? we’re just existing together. i think romance in the paddock is the worst thing for me right now. i need to be fully focused on kimi.”

“first of all - we’re exisiting together? that’s so fucking gross. and two - you’re still allowed to have fun?” jenson wiggled his eyebrows.

“not everyone can be the playboy of formula one, stud.”

“true. i’m not sure you have the devilishly good looks to be a playboy - hey”

y/n snatched his glass of champagne and turned back towards the stage just as max took to the microphone.

“so max, do you think there’s a chance of a fifth title in a row?”

max laughed in his signature way, “here i thought you’d gotten all of your aggression out with lewis. we’ll have to see how we line up against the other teams, but you always have to believe you can win every single race, so that’s what i’ll continue to do.”

a quick glance from nico told y/n that her peaceful night hadn’t started just yet.

“you’ll finally have your best friend back in the paddock, are you still excited even though she’ll be in mercedes uniform?”

“i think toto has another thing coming if he thinks she’ll be wearing that ugly uniform,” max said, “but it makes no difference to me what garage y/n is in, we’re like magnets, you can’t keep us a part for long.”

nico hummed, “is that why you were the only one she kept in contact with after the crash?”

“yes? it’s mostly because we’re best friends but also because i’m a decent human being.”

oh fuck.

“how do you mean, max?”

christian tried to butt in, “i don’t think we need to go into that here.”

“oh i’m more than happy to, and nico has been stirring all night, what’s just a little more to add to the pot?”

you could almost hear the audience shuffling to the edge of their seats and for the first time that evening, y/n felt some of the cameras on her. she gave them a small wave and hoped they would pan back to the actual action.

“all i’m saying is that there are a lot of victim complexes in the paddock, it’s full of people who would rather say ‘i don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me?’ rather than do some actual introspection. y/n will talk to you if you’re not an asshole, just as kimi.”

“so you’re saying there’s a truth to the rumours?”

“which rumours? you know, since your employers like to report on so many?”

nico chuckled, “well, the rumours that perhaps the brits in the paddock didn’t get on as well as we were led to believe?”

max smiled, “well, that’s not my story to tell, but i’ve found that if you ask them, they’re more than happy to give you the scoop.”

for a moment, y/n’s heart stopped, fearing that nico would take this as the chance to bring her into the fray. max seemed to sense this as well and added, “but as for me, i’m just happy she’s back in any capacity. i’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“have you spoken about formula one in her break at all? you won all four of your titles in that time?”

“i know she watched it, but we haven’t spoken about it. i respected her boundaries at the time, but i knew she was watching based on some suspiciously timed texts.”

nico laughed, “i’m not sure we can ever stay away from this sport for long.”

“i’m glad that is the case,” max said, more to himself than anyone else.

the red bull boys were ushered off of the stage as nico delivered his closing remarks and announced the musical guests.

“he’s glad that’s the case? oh he’s in deep,” jenson gasped, “you can’t tell me that’s nothing, i rebuke it right this second.”

y/n sighed, standing and heading to the backstage bar. “i really don’t want to think about it jenson.”

“but you’re staying at his house, he’s building shit for your cat and gushing about you on stage!”

“i am well aware, but i don’t really know what you want me to do about that?”

“i want you to get your man and let him treat you how you’re supposed to be!”

y/n picked up another glass of champagne, talking the biggest sip before replying to jenson.

“you’re just as bad as the girls on twitter sometimes.”

kimi bursts through the doors, back in his comfy clothes, and rushes over to y/n. she wraps the italian into a hug.

“i’m so proud of you!”

kimi blushes, rocking back and forth on his feet, “thank you, y/n! i’m so glad we’ve got this out of the way i’m ready to race now!”

jenson laughed along side them, “an eager one, this one. i remember when i had that much energy.”

the rest of the drivers flooded into the room, grabbing drinks or just taking a seat. max, much like kimi, made his way straight to y/n, also pulling her into his chest. he whispered in her ear, “i’m sorry i got carried away talking about you, i just can’t help myself.”

y/n can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach at the confession. she was really trying to keep her feelings out of her return to formula one, but seeing max like this was putting a real spanner in the works. the dutchman’s protective nature along side his intense respect for her made her feel special for the first time since the crash.

“i take no offence, maxy. i’ll never say no to a compliment, especially from you.”

the group moves away from the bar and as they settle into their seats backstage, max’s arm wraps around her waist. y/n knew she shouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone but that’s what her heart wanted. the first few weeks into her return and all the drama was wearing on her and they hadn’t even made it to the paddock yet. she snuggled into max’s side, letting the dutchman brush her hair out of her face.

“y/n?” kimi said from the other side of her, “i’m really happy you’re here, and i hope you’ll let yourself have this,” kimi motioned to max, who was deep in conversation with jenson.

“don’t you worry about that, kimi.”

“you’ve punished yourself for years, please don’t keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed this. also don’t wait up for me, i’m going to crash at ollie’s”

kimi said as his departing gift as he went to catch up with ollie and watch some of the music. y/n let herself relax back into max’s hold and her eyes close, all of the pent up stress of the evening rushing out.

“are we really that boring?” jenson asked.

“do you want to get out of here, y/n?” max asked, when y/n flopped further onto him, he took that as his answer.

grabbing her bag, max took y/n’s hand in his and pulled her from the seat. the pair exchanged hugs with jenson and made a quiet exit from backstage. they tried to be as subtle as possible, but nothing is ever secret in formula one.

jenson slid in beside lewis at the bar.

“you want to tell me what your plan is with her?”

lewis looked at his former teammate in confusion.

“i saw that wink and i know you were flirting with her when you went to her apartment. what’s the plan, you’re 14 years older than her?”

“i don’t have a plan? i felt bad about how i was when she was in formula one, i’m just trying to make her feel welcome again.”

“and winking at her at a televised event is definitely going to help?”

lewis scoffed, “i don’t really like what you’re implying.”

“i’m implying that you need to watch your step, seriously. the vultures are just waiting for her to make one wrong step, don’t give them an excuse to call her a gold digger or anything along those lines.”

“and what if i said i did like her?”

“i’d ask you if you actually know her? you didn’t speak to her after the crash, you didn’t speak to her when she was in the sport so i’m confused to where this would have come from?”

“you can drop the dad act jenson, i’m just being friendly. it looks like max got in there first anyway.”

jenson hummed, “not everything is a competition.”

y/n and max climbed into max’s hire car for the weekend and finally let themselves breathe.

“that was a lot,” y/n said, slipping off her heels, “nico really was out for blood.”

“i found it entertaining, but that usually is a death wish for anything in formula one.”

the pair laughed, and as max turned the ignition, y/n’s taylor swift playlist crackled into life.

“are you heading back to your hotel or do you want to crash at mine?” y/n asked as she put her address into the gps, despite max knowing nearly every route across london to her apartment.

“a chance to avoid team duties for as long as possible? count me in!”

“so you don’t want to spend more time with me? just want to avoid your team?”

max placed his hand on her thigh, “you know i always want to spend more time with you.”

the streets were relatively clear at this time with the event still in swing. max weaved through traffic as they entered west london. the dutchman nestled his car in y/n’s spot for her pink cadillac that was still in monaco. y/n started to fiddle with her heels to put them back on, but max stopped her.

he walked round to her side of the car and picked up her up bridal style. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around max’s neck. the pair made their way up to her apartment as fast as possible, but made sure to say hi to frank who not so subtlety gave y/n a thumbs up and a wink.

the apartment was quiet without the meows of brando who was also back in monaco with jimmy and sassy. max stopped in the kitchen to pour two glasses of water but y/n went ahead to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the event.

she slipped into bed dressed in her pjamas that consisted of some old gym shorts and one of max’s toro rosso shirts. the dutchman knocked on her door.

“come in, maxy.”

max made his way into the room, placing the glass of water on her beside table. he sat on the edge of the bed, “good night, try not to dream of me too much.” the dutchman leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the door.

“max?”

“yes?”

“will you stay with me?”

“always.”

max got under the covers and tentatively reached out to her. sensing the apprehension, y/n turned over and tucked herself under max’s chin. his arms snuck around her waist and for the first time in three years, y/n finally slept peacefully without the images of her crash.

fin.

note: sorry this took so long, i've been a bit of a writing rut but i'm back!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510@savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml 

[lizziesangel]

heyyy, could you do a one shot of rafe x high maintenance!kook!reader, about her expensive skinncare routine and rafe is just so in love of how well she takes cares of herself but at the same time like "90 dollars of this shit????" and reader is just "yeah😁 it has collagen, you should try it"

absolutely love this!!

the night had been perfect—rafe made sure of it. dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town, with white tablecloths and a wine list so long it came in a leather-bound book. he didn’t even blink at the check, sliding his card over with the confidence of someone who did this all the time. the drive home was just as good, you sitting in the passenger seat, admiring your new nails under the streetlights, the soft hum of the radio in the background.

“seriously, rafe, aren’t they gorgeous?” you asked, holding your hand up to catch the faint glow of the dashboard lights. “look at the shine. and the shape? absolutely perfect. they even feel sturdier this time, like they’re not going to chip in two weeks.”

he glanced over briefly, his lips tugging into a lazy smile. “yeah, they look good. but you’ve said that, like, twenty times already.”

“and i’ll say it twenty times more, you’re the one who paid for them,” you pointed out, inspecting them again. “you should be happy i’m obsessed with them.”

“oh, i’m happy,” he said, turning into the driveway. “just wondering if i’m gonna hear about them all week.”

“probably,” you teased, stepping out of the car.

the conversation didn’t stop there. even as you followed him upstairs, you were still gushing.

“seriously, though, rafe. i think this might be my favorite set ever. they’re just so clean and classy.”

“yeah, they’re nice,” he said, pulling his shirt off as he walked into the bedroom. “good thing you didn’t go with that neon pink idea you showed me.”

“it was bubblegum pink, and it was cute!” you argued, crossing your arms.

“sure, babe,” he said with a smirk, falling onto the bed. “bubblegum pink’s cute.”

rolling your eyes, you walked over to the mirror, sighing at your reflection. “ugh, i have to take my makeup off first.”

rafe propped himself up on one elbow, watching you. “can’t you just… skip it?”

you turned to him, horrified. “skip it? baby, do you know what that would do to my skin?”

“no, but i’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” he teased, flopping onto the bed and pulling the blanket up.

you ignored him, grabbing your skincare bag and heading to the bathroom. after what felt like forever, you finally emerged, your face clean of makeup, wearing your silk robe.

rafe was lying in bed, one arm behind his head, watching you with a mixture of impatience and amusement.

“you know what we should get?” you asked, your tone casual.

he raised an eyebrow. “what?”

“a vanity.”

rafe blinked at you. “a what?”

“a vanity,” you repeated, walking over to sit cross-legged on the bed.

“why would we need a vanity?”

“so i can do my makeup and skincare in the bedroom instead of going to the bathroom every time,” you explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

rafe gestured vaguely toward the open bathroom door. “the bathroom’s literally right there.”

you rolled your eyes, scooting closer to him. “yeah, but i’d rather be in here with you.”

he groaned, but there was no missing the fondness in his voice when he said, “you’re unbelievable.”

“and you love me for it,” you said with a grin.

he chuckled softly, pulling you closer for a quick kiss before turning back to his phone. shaking your head with a smile, you stood and padded back to the bathroom, ready to start your skincare routine.

as you began massaging a cleanser onto your face, you heard footsteps behind you. glancing in the mirror, you saw rafe leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you.

“what are you doing?” you asked, surprised but pleased.

“figured i’d see what all the hype’s about,” he said, smirking.

you laughed, turning back to the sink. “all right, pay attention.”

he stayed quiet, watching as you worked.

“first step,” you began, holding up the bottle. “oil-based cleanser. this gets rid of all the makeup and sunscreen.”

“so that’s why your face looks all shiny now?”

“exactly,” you said, rinsing it off. “next step: water-based cleanser. it makes sure everything’s actually gone.”

“seems like overkill,” he muttered, but his eyes stayed on you as you lathered up the second cleanser.

“it’s not,” you insisted, rinsing and patting your face dry with a towel. “now, toner. it balances your skin’s pH and preps it for the rest of the products.”

“you’re making this up,” he said, shaking his head.

“i’m not,” you said with a laugh, grabbing a small bottle. “next is serum. this one’s hydrating—it has hyaluronic acid.”

“whatever that is,” he said, leaning in a little closer.

“it’s amazing,” you said, patting the serum into your skin. “then comes eye cream. dab it under your eyes to keep them hydrated.”

“you have young skin,” he pointed out. “why do you need all this anti-aging stuff?”

“prevention is key,” you said simply, dabbing the cream under your eyes. “next, lip mask. it keeps your lips soft overnight.”

“lip mask?”

“yes, rafe. just trust me.”

he chuckled, watching as you smoothed the mask over your lips. “what’s next?”

“retinol,” you said, holding up a small tube. “but i only use it once a month.”

“why bother, then?”

“because it’s good to start early!” you said, smoothing a tiny amount over your skin.

rafe stayed quiet for a moment, watching as you worked through your routine. his curiosity got the better of him again when you reached for a fancy-looking gold jar.

“how much was that one?” he asked casually.

you hesitated. “uh… ninety, i think?”

“ninety dollars?” his voice shot up an octave as he grabbed the jar to inspect it.

“yes, rafe,” you said, snatching it back. “it’s a luxury brand. it has collagen.”

he gestured at the counter, which was full of bottles and jars from estée lauder, clinique, and clarins. “so how much is all of this combined?”

you shrugged, applying the last of your products. “a couple hundred, maybe?”

“holy shit,” rafe muttered, running a hand through his hair.

you grinned, turning to face him. “what? you like how soft my skin is, don’t you?”

rafe gestured at the counter, which was covered in products from estée lauder, clinique, and clarins. “so… who pays for all this?”

“i do,” you said, capping the jar of moisturizer.

rafe stared at you, incredulous. “no, you’re lying.”

“i swear!”

“no,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “i’ll pay for it.”

“rafe, you can’t pay for everything,” you argued, rolling your eyes.

he shook his head. “i can, and i will. no way you’re spending this much on—” he gestured vaguely at the counter—“this… whole collection.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “i budget for it.”

rafe stared at you for a moment, then leaned against the counter with a smirk. “okay, new plan. i’m paying for it from now on.”

“rafe, you can’t just—”

“i can, and i will,” he interrupted, his tone firm but playful.

“you’re not paying for everything,” you argued, narrowing your eyes at him.

he leaned in, his smirk softening into something gentler. “you’re right. i’m not paying for everything. just the stuff that makes you happy. and this”—he waved his hand at your collection of bottles and jars—“obviously does.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, but you rolled your eyes to cover it. “fine, but i’m not letting you pay for all of it. maybe just the retinol.”

“deal,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “but i’m serious. next time, just send me the bill.”

you laughed, resting your head against his chest. “you’re ridiculous.”

“yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “but you love me for it.”

“unfortunately,” you teased, earning a chuckle as he pulled you back toward the bedroom.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you ⟢ @maybanksgirl69

[ceoslayers]

Original quotes for the curious 💚

The rich will act "like they understand you, in the back of their jet. When you can't put gas in your tank. These f*ckers are laughing their way to the bank and cashing their check, asking you to have compassion & have some respect."

[demonic0angel]

Classic bat gets bride sacrifice to the ghost king 'cept:

"Damn it, you guys couldn't have waited till tomorrow to get me?" Steph glared at Tim, Bruce, and Constantine.

"You wanted us to wait on rescuing y-"

"Rescue! That wasn't a rescue! That was interrupting my date!"

"You were on a date with the ghost king."

"Wha-no. I was with Wes. The royal chancellor. He'd finally asked me out on a date, and then you happened."

Constantine stared at her. "... so you're saying that you've been on a date with... a royal chancellor… this whole time."

Red Robin, meanwhile, slowly and carefully reached into his pocket to get a tranquilizer as if he thought she was crazy.

Stephanie sighed and stood up from where they had dropped her on the ground. She dusted herself off and huffed. "No! Wes is the Ghost King's royal chancellor! I asked him out some days ago and this is our first date.”

Constantine pinched the bridge of his nose. Batman said, “So you’ve been dating a being from another dimension this entire time and didn’t tell anyone?”

“I only just found out that he was from another dimension. He’s been a great boyfriend so far.” At this, Stephanie looked at Red Robin with narrowed eyes, who sighed and relented to her scrutiny. “He didn’t tell me, but he didn’t even ask me anything suspicious either. He’s literally fine! Where did you guys put him?”

She scowled and put her hands on her hips. Batman and Constantine shut their mouths stubbornly, so it was only Red Robin who pointed down the hallway and said, “Constantine banished him back to his home world.”

Stephanie gave a frustrated scream. “Ugh! You’re all the worst! B! RR! You owe me for this!”

She pushed away both Constantine and Batman who tried to stop her, and Red Robin silently slid in place beside her, also leading her there as they both dodged the attempts of the two other adults to stop them.

They were in an abandoned building that Stephanie had picked for their first date to have a picnic, but now it was ruined. Why couldn’t the heroes in her life just mind their business for a day?? Stephanie pushed open the doors to where Wes was last and marched inside.

The ritual circle was still on the floor and Stephanie sneered before she asked, “How do I reverse it?”

“We’re not going to let you do that, you twit,” Constantine said as he and Batman followed them inside of the room.

Stephanie scowled again. “Watch me.” She looked back at the ritual circle and then thought to herself. After a moment, she began chanting softly, outwardly looking confident but inwardly sweating bricks. She was sure that Zatanna used backwards speak to do her magic, so theoretically, if she could say the incantation that Constantine used to banish him and reverse it then….

It could work?

Constantine gasped. “How does she know the incantation to summon him back?”

Score!

The ritual circle began to glow green and the building shook. The circle then began to turn dark and mist poured out, green swirls appearing within the circle.

Stephanie grinned as she continued, ducking underneath a batarang that Batman tossed at her before she finished the chant and her boyfriend was thrown out of the portal and at her feet. Wes groaned but got up with a glare at Constantine and Batman.

“Did you just fucking deport me?! On my date?! Do you know the blackmail material I had to give away to his Majesty to get back here?! Don’t think that just because you’re from another dimension that I won’t summon the King here and teach you a lesson!”

Wes tore into them and as Batman glared at Stephanie from where he was standing and being lectured, Red Robin leaned into her as she grinned broadly, loving how Wes was also defending her in the same breath as he was ripping at the two adult heroes.

“So I’m forgiven?” He whispered, reaching out a hand.

“You owe me ice cream, but you’re forgiven,” she said, shaking his hand firmly.

[satorella]

“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰”

“Y’know you have to go back to Germany eventually, right?” You said while lying on 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 chest, listening to his heartbeat.

He sighs, dragging a finger up and down your spine. “I know, Liebchen [darling/sweetheart].” He pauses before continuing, “…I hate leaving you...” You had no response. You couldn’t tell him to just up and drop his career for you. Not that you would ever make him, or let him, do that in the first place. Soccer was all he knew, before you. And you were understanding of that. “Come with me.” He breaks the silence. You lifted your head up off his chest and gave him a confused look. “Micha, you know I can’t.” “Why not? You’re not even happy here in your own country.” He made a good point.

“So, what? Just drop everything, sell my house, my car, leave my friends and family, my life behind?” You were pacing around your room now, while he was still relaxed on your bed, his private area only being covered by the thin blanket. He was casually just flipping through the novel you were currently into. “Ja.” [Yes.] You stopped and glared at him. “Babe, this is serious. Do you realize what you’re asking of me?” “Mhm.” Your eye twitched at his nonchalance. He snaps your book shut and finally looks up at you. “I’ll take care of you. What was that thing you would always say? That you’re ‘meant to be a passenger princess’ or whatever? Well, now you can be.” He shrugs. “For the record, I only said that once or twice!” You look away sheepishly. He couldn’t help but smirk at your expression. “Riiiight.” He replied sarcastically, sitting up on the edge of your bed. He pulled the blanket off, exposing himself and patted his thigh, beckoning you to come. You practically melted at the gorgeous, naked sight of him and walked over. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in between his legs, “Come on, Engel [Angel].” His voice was soft. “And what about when you leave for games? I’ll be alone again, but in a foreign country.” You slightly pouted, playing with the blue ends of his hair. He shrugged again, “You will come with me to my games too. So einfach ist das.” [It’s that simple.] It wasn’t a bad idea.

You did love watching him play. You even got too into it at times.

He remembered one time when he’d been shoved and landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him. As he laid there on the field, trying to get his breath back, he looked up into the stands and saw you screaming at the top of your lungs at the ref, almost about to climb over the railing to give the other player a piece of your mind. Thankfully, Ness was benched during that half of the game and was able to calm you down before security came. It turned him on… how feral you got for him…

He dicked you down so good that night.

He pulled you even closer so that you were straddling him now, his hands making their way under your robe and slowly up your sides. “S-So… you realize… you’re basically asking me to move in with you, right?” You clarified. His hands slowly moved up higher, thumbs lightly tracing circles on your bare skin. “That’s the general idea, ja.” He kept talking as if all this was no big deal. But now that you think about it, it would have happened eventually… so. He hummed as he gently cupped your breasts, taking your now hardening nubs between his index and middle finger. You slightly threw your head back, enjoying his touch. He grabbed ahold of your hips as you started to rock against him, his grip becoming a bit rougher as he started to guide your movements. He leaned in, pressing his lips against you; starting from your shoulder and making his way up to your neck. “M-Micha… we… we still need to discuss this…” You bit your bottom lip, trying to stay focused. “No more talking. Just fucking.” His voice was low and demanding; once bright blue eyes, now dark. “Sag einfach ja.” [Just say yes.] He whispers. You let out a content sigh. He really knew how to make you loosen up, didn’t he?

Tsk.

He undid the knot on your robe and let it slip off of you. A shiver ran through you as the cool air hit your skin, along with his touch. You moaned out a “yes” just as you sunk down onto his hard cock. You guys may actively fuck like rabbits, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his larger size. He gave you a second to adjust, before he wrapped your legs around his waist and stood up to place you on the edge of your vanity. “Ah! B-Babe! My makeup!” You whimpered as his hard thrusts caused all your things to topple over. He grabs your chin and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss to stop you from talking.

“I’ll buy you more in Germany.” He grunts.

© 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[little-jana]

"The Baby Glimmer"

Pairing: husband!Aaron Hotchner x wife!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, wanting a baby, heated/romantic fade-to-black intimacy, kissing

Summary: Where Aaron gets baby fever.

a/n: Well, since most of you voted for 2nd person writing, I'll try that from now on.

The first time you noticed it, you didn’t think much of it.

Aaron and you were walking through the mall one rainy Saturday afternoon, grabbing a few things for Jack’s school project. He’d been in need of some craft supplies and, as usual, Aaron wanted everything to be perfect.

You were strolling past a baby boutique on the way to the bookstore when Aaron slowed to a stop. He glanced at the window display—a collection of tiny onesies and soft teddy bears arranged artfully—and a soft, almost wistful smile crept across his face.

You stopped beside him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

He gestured to a fluffy teddy bear in the center of the display, its bowtie slightly askew. “That’s cute,” he said simply. “Babies would love it.”

You blinked. Aaron Hotchner, notorious for his stoic demeanor, commenting on teddy bears?

“Yeah,” you replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “It’s… adorable.”

Aaron nodded, his hand briefly brushing against yours before he turned back toward the bookstore. “Come on,” he said over his shoulder, his voice calm and measured as always.

You stared after him for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe he was just in a good mood.

---

Then there was JJ’s baby shower.

Aaron had insisted on going. “She’s family,” he’d said when you asked him about it. “It’s important to support her.”

And support her he did.

He spent the entire afternoon helping set up decorations, arranging tiny cupcakes on trays, and offering to hold the baby while JJ unwrapped gifts. It was… unexpected, to say the least.

At one point, you caught him holding JJ’s newborn, his expression so soft it made your chest ache. He was cooing gently, his deep voice low and soothing as he rocked the baby in his arms.

You tried not to stare. You really did. But the sight of Aaron Hotchner—gruff, protective, usually all-business—cradling a baby like it was the most natural thing in the world was enough to make anyone’s heart skip a beat.

“Wow,” Emily whispered, nudging you with her elbow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Hotch has baby fever.”

You laughed, brushing off the comment. “Please. He’s just being nice.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach fluttered when Aaron caught your eye across the room and smiled.

---

It wasn’t just JJ’s baby. It was everywhere.

You were at the grocery store one evening when it happened again. You had split up to cover more ground, and found him standing in the baby aisle when you came to find him.

“Aaron?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

He looked up, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he held up a tiny pair of baby shoes. “Look at these,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “They’re so small.”

You stared at him, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing again. “Uh… yeah,” you said slowly. “Babies tend to have small feet.”

Aaron chuckled, setting the shoes back on the shelf. “Right. Of course.”

You watched him for a moment, suspicion creeping in. Something was definitely up.

---

The team noticed it, too.

“He’s acting weird,” Derek said one afternoon, leaning back in his chair as he sipped his coffee.

“Weirder than usual?” Emily quipped, smirking.

“No, like… softer,” Derek replied, gesturing toward Aaron’s office. “Have you seen the way he’s been with JJ’s baby? Or how he’s been staring off into space lately? It’s like he’s distracted by something.”

Emily glanced at you, her eyebrows raised. “Any idea what’s going on with him?”

You shrugged, playing dumb. “No clue. Maybe he’s just tired.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t ignore the way Aaron had been looking at you lately—the way his eyes lingered just a little longer than usual, the way he reached for your hand more often, the way his touch was softer, more deliberate.

---

It all came to a head one quiet evening at home.

Jack was asleep, and Aaron and you were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background. You’d been watching him out of the corner of your eye all night, trying to piece together what was going on in that brilliant, complicated mind of his.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Aaron,” you said, turning to face him.

He looked down at you, his dark eyes warm and attentive. “Yes?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “You’ve been… different lately. Distracted. Is everything okay?”

Aaron’s brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was going to brush it off. But then he sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he reached for your hand.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about,” he admitted, his voice low and steady.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“It’s just… seeing JJ with her baby, and watching Jack grow up… It’s made me think about us. About our future.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck. “What about our future?”

Aaron’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, his touch warm and comforting. “I’ve been thinking about having another baby. With you.”

His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak.

“A baby?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. “I know it’s a big decision, and I don’t want to pressure you. But I can’t stop thinking about it. About what it would be like to build a family with you.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“Aaron,” you began, your voice trembling. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze filled with love and hope. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch as tears spilled down your cheeks. You loved this man so much.

---

Over the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron’s words.

You watched him more closely than ever, noticing the way he doted on Jack, the way he smiled whenever you passed by a baby in the park, the way he held you just a little tighter at night.

And the more you thought about it, the more the idea began to take root in your heart.

It was a week later, during a quiet evening at home, that you finally found the courage to bring it up again.

You were sitting at the dining table, finishing the last of your dinner, when you set your fork down and looked at him.

“Aaron,” you said softly.

He glanced up, his expression instantly attentive. “Yes?”

You took a deep breath, your fingers nervously twisting the hem of your shirt. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About having a baby.”

His eyes softened, and you saw the faintest glimmer of hope in his gaze. “And?”

You smiled, your heart pounding as you reached for his hand. “And… I think I want that, too. With you.”

Aaron’s face lit up, a smile spreading across his lips as he squeezed your hand.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmured, his deep voice warm and full of unspoken emotion.

You laughed through the tears welling in your eyes, unable to look away from the sheer adoration in his gaze. “I think I do,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his knuckles.

Aaron’s other hand reached up, his fingertips tenderly brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re really ready for this?” he asked, his tone quiet and reverent, like he didn’t want to break the fragile bubble of this moment.

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “With you? Yes. A thousand times yes.”

His dark eyes softened even further, the kind of look that always made you feel like you were the only person in the world to him. He kissed you then—slow and deliberate, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude into the motion.

When he finally pulled back, you noticed the faintest mischievous glint in his eye, something you rarely saw but secretly adored. His lips quirked into a small, almost playful smile.

“Well,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly, “if we’re going to have a baby… shouldn’t we start practicing?”

You blinked at him, stunned for half a second before a breathless laugh escaped your lips. “Oh, really?” you teased, tilting your head as you looked at him. “You don’t waste any time, do you?"

His grin widened just a fraction as he leaned closer, his thumb tracing slow circles over the back of your hand. “Why would I, when we could make this moment count?” His voice was a low rumble now, filled with a heated edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

The air between you shifted—charged and electric, crackling with the kind of tension that made your pulse race.

“Aaron…” You whispered, your voice catching in your throat as he cupped your cheek, his touch so gentle yet so deliberate.

“Yes?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth, teasing you with just the faintest ghost of a kiss.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, your hands sliding up to rest against his chest. “You’re not playing fair.”

He hummed low in his throat, his other hand settling on your waist, pulling you just a little closer. “I don’t plan to.”

The next kiss wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was full of unspoken promises and barely contained need, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak.

You gasped as he shifted, lifting you effortlessly into his arms as though you weighed nothing. Your hands tangled in his shirt as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips never straying far from yours.

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember 26: Cucking

So, considering I failed Kinkcember by not doing every day. I'll be breaking other rules I had, at the very least, to make this more enjoyable for me. So that means some more repeating idols and kinks. Anyway, enjoy cucking G!P Mina.

Length 2K

Dahyun X Mreader with cuck Mina.

You finish tying Mina to the chair; she gives you a shy smile as you pull back and look at your work. “You’re going to watch.” You say, staring at Mina, who looks a little more than confused at your words. You said I could have another woman for a night. Well, you’re going to watch it happen. “Tonight is when I’m doing it.” Mina had forgotten all about it. Her mouth hung open as you jogged her memory; she had gone out with friends and ended up cheating on you when she got too drunk. To repent, she had said you could fuck any woman you wanted to in an attempt to make it even.

You motion to the door, and in walks a young woman. Her pale skin was striking against her black dress. She waved to Mina with a smirk. Mina recognized the young woman as someone from her work she had heard had a crush on you. She wracked her brain to remember the name. “Hi, unnie!” The young woman said as she stood beside you. You take a step behind her and move your hands around her waist. 

“You remember Dahyun, right? Isn’t she pretty?” You say, moving your hand along Dahyun’s body, her breathing sharpening as your hand moves across her chest, the tender squeezing of her breast enough to elicit a moan. “She’s going to be the one I’m with.”

You undress the young woman, pulling off the thin straps of her dress. Dahyun looks over her shoulder to stare at you, unable to hide her soft smile. She cups her breasts, covering her nipples from your view. You snake your hands between Dahyun’s and her body, “Let me see you, Dahyun,” She gives you a slight nod and allows you to pull her hands away; Dahyun’s small, perky breasts feel the cool air. You look over her shoulder, staring at her pink buds as you squeeze her breasts. She never imagined that she would be having such an experience, certainly not in front of your girlfriend. Dahyun’s sole focus was on what you were doing to her body. You had one of her breasts in your hand, your finger circling her nipple, making it turn hard. You flicked the tiny nub, bringing more pleasure to the young woman. Dahyun squirmed, grinding against you. You stare at Mina, her cock throbbing as she watches you play with Dahyun. 

Mina struggles against her restraints; She wants to touch herself, to stroke her cock, but she can’t. She purses her lips, her mind running through ways to get involved. You see Mina furrow her brow; you huff before pressing your lips against Dahyun’s porcelain skin. Dahyun’s groans grow a little louder, flooding Mina’s ears. 

You thrust into Dahyun, listening to her moan as you slowly drag your cock out of her pink cunt. The young woman arches her back, pushing her chest out toward you. Dahyun reaches out for you, wanting to bring your head to her chest, but you keep away from her for now. Holding onto her tiny waist, you slam yourself inside Dahyun. “you’re so big,” Dahyun blurts out as you push inside her again. You grunt, enjoying the tight hold her walls have over you. You glance over at Mina, seeing the lost expression on her face. She had stopped struggling against her bindings and remained seated. Without so much as a touch, she was leaking precum over herself. The most she was able to do was rub her legs together as she watched you fuck Dahyun. 

The younger woman is paying no attention to Mina, entirely focused on you, etching the feeling of your cock stirring her insides into her memory. As you slip your finger over her clit, Dahyun gasps, the shock from your touch making her legs tingle. Dahyun’s eyes fluttered as she pressed her back against you. Already on the verge of cumming, she bit her lip, weak hums filling her mouth as her body claps against yours. You run your finger over her clit, moving quickly in small circles. The young woman whimpers, her body tensing as she gets ready to explode. You press your lips against Dahyun’s neck, marking her milky skin with a hickey. “Cum for me, Dahyun,” you whisper into her ear. 

“Ahh!” Dahyun whines, her walls tightening around your cock as you continue thrusting into her warm core. Dahyun’s juices spray out, splattering onto Mina’s legs. Your girlfriend strains against her restraints, wanting nothing else but to be involved in the action. You pull Dahyun back, laying her down on the bed before walking over to Mina.

“Don’t look so pathetic. You’re not getting involved, Mina. You agreed to this, remember?” You felt vindicated in your actions; her betrayal still stung, but seeing her be so needy made this so much better. You squish her cheeks as you hold her face, “Are you going to cheat on me again?” She shakes her head violently. Mina opens her mouth to speak, but you cut her off. “Are you going to be a good girl?” Her mouth stays open as she nods.

“Please…” Mina mumbles, craving your touch. She tries to reach out for your hand, but the restraints keep her in place.

“You don’t get to ask for anything.” You grunt before letting her go and heading back to Dahyun. You turn Dahyun’s body, making sure you’re facing Mina as you fuck the younger woman. You position yourself between Dahyun’s legs, her heavy breathing slowly down as she raises her head and smiles at you. She reaches down, spreading her full lips apart. She didn’t care that she was being used now; she was happy to be with you, even if it would be for a moment. 

“Please, put it in,” she says through deep breaths. You grab your cock, rubbing the head against her entrance for a brief second before pushing back inside the warm hole. Dahyun cranes her neck, letting out a long exhale as you fill her again. Her head hangs over the edge of the bed; she stares at Mina with a look of pure ecstasy on her face. You hold onto Dahyun’s tiny waist as you begin thrusting; her walls hold you tightly, practically sucking you back in. You lean in and run your tongue between her small mounds, lapping at her sweat. Dahyun shivers, the cool air directly hitting her skin as you lap at her body. Grabbing onto her legs, you wrap them around your waist. Dahyun gleefully accepts the movement, using her feet to push you further into her cunt. 

You glance at Mina, still as needy as before, taking in the sight before her with hunger. You were getting close to cumming. Dahyun could feel it, too. The throbbing of your cock was pushing her over the edge, her mind filling with thoughts of being pumped full of your cum. “Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me,” she repeats, wrapping her arms around your neck. You weren’t going to disappoint Dahyun; you knew Mina would lose it seeing you fill another woman with semen that was rightfully hers. 

You make a show of it, grunting loudly as you slam yourself into Dahyun’s hungry cunt. Dahyun could only moan as she felt the tip of your cock smack against her womb. She shut her eyes and cried out as you made her cum again. A moment later, she arched her back, her body tensing as your cum poured into her awaiting womb. She couldn’t control herself, Dahyun's eyes became half-lidded, and her tongue stuck out of her mouth. The lustful look provoked Mina to rock her chair back and forth as she witnessed you fill the beautiful woman. You thrust into Dahyun slowly, letting her walls milk you of the last of your load before you unwrapped her legs and pulled out. “C’mon Dahyun, we’re not done yet.” You tell her, lifting her off her feet and laying her against Mina. 

Dahyun’s head rested on the older woman’s shoulder as you held her waist, keeping her standing. Dahyun needed the assistance, too weak to keep herself standing. Mina could feel the heat coming from the young woman’s body. She looked at you as you put yourself back inside Dahyun’s messy cunt. “I bet you wish this were you,” Dahyun murmurs into Mina’s ear, moaning softly as she feels your cock stretching her again. The beautiful woman whispering these things into her ear, along with Dahyun’s sweaty body rubbing against her own, was becoming too much for Mina. She bucked her hips desperately, wanting to be touched by either one of you. You both denied her, though; you kept your hands firmly on Dahyun’s waist, digging into her soft flesh while Dahyun touched everywhere but her cock. She knew perfectly well what she was doing. 

Dahyun ran her hands down the older woman’s sides before moving back up her stomach and pinching Mina’s nipples. “He feels so good. I can feel his big cock throbbing inside me again.” She moans, giving Mina a mental image. You continued your thrusts as Dahyun teased your girlfriend. Mina groaned, wanting more from her, but Dahyun wouldn’t give it to her. Mina thrust her hips wanting Dahyun to touch her cock, but Dahyun would pull her hand away every time. “Beg for it,” Dahyun ordered. 

“Please! Touch me, fuck me, anything!” Mina cried out, pouting as she begged for you. Dahyun shook her head, stopping her teasing as she felt your grip tighten. She pushed her ass back against you, letting you go as deep as possible. You bury yourself inside Dahyun, your cum flowing into her womb again as you have a stronger climax. Dahyun’’s body is pressed against Mina’s, giving her cock its first and only touch. You pump Dahyun full of your cum before pulling out, letting your semen drip onto the floor before an idea strikes you. You pull Dahyun back, setting her on the bed before untying Mina.

You pull on her hair, keeping her in the chair, “Your punishment will be over once you clean up Dahyun, and only then. Understood.” Mina nods quickly, and you push her onto the floor, making her crawl to Dahyun. The tired woman spreads her legs slowly, her cunt a creamy mess, your constant thrusting having turned your first load into a frothy mess. Mina stares at Dahyun’s cunt before turning to you. With a slight nod, Mina turns back to Dahyun and digs in, dragging her tongue along the woman’s sore cunt. 

The taste lingers on Mina’s tongue as she goes back in for more, her cock twitching each time. “That’s a good girl,” you say softly as you put your hand on the back of Mina’s head, pushing her forward. You keep her there, forcing her to eat your cum straight from the young woman’s pussy before letting go. Mina pulls back, her mouth covered in a thin layer of semen and slick. “Keep going, you’re not done yet.” You tell her. Mina nods slightly and returns to Dahyun’s slit, lapping at it until she finishes cleaning the young woman.

The experience leaves Mina wanting more and deciding that her punishment is over. You give Mina what she wants, fucking her until she’s out cold. Dahyun lingered in your bed, snuggling against you as Mina lays face down, cum oozing from her gaping ass. “Did I do a good job?”

“You did a great job, Dahyun. All your teasing really got to Mina. It wouldn’t be so bad to keep you around for more.” Dahyun smiled as she heard that. 

“Really? Do you mean it?”

“No promises, but we’ll see what happens.” You tell her, spanking her ass before making her straddle you. “I know what you want, and as thanks, you can have it.”

Dahyun's smile grows even wider, and she rises off you, grabbing your cock and slipping it back inside her cunt before laying her head on your chest. “I love this, thank you.” She says softly before shutting her eyes and drifting off to sleep with your cock inside her.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Run, Run, Run II

Leila Ouahabi x Reader

Summary: Your new life

Your feet pound on the concrete of the pavement, rain drip-dropping down your skin.

The rain of Manchester had been difficult to get used to when you originally moved, used to the sun of Spain and the warmth on your skin as you completed your morning run.

The rain wasn't something that you were surprised about but it was still something that you've had to get used to.

You've had to get used to a lot actually but one thing, for better or for worse has stayed that same.

Your damned attraction to female footballers older than you.

You'd been burned by Alexia. That was all you could think about those first few weeks. How every memory with her was stained with fire and flames and an overwhelming heat that made you lose your mind.

But she had cheated and you had promised yourself to never be like your mother - to never stay with someone that disrespected you like that.

Your father was a damned near perfect father. He took you to all of your track meets and he'd never missed a parent-teacher evening in his life. He bragged about you to his co-workers.

But he had never been a perfect husband, cheating on your mother multiple times but she had still stayed, happy in the relative normalcy she has with your father.

You'd promised to never be like her so the decision to leave Alexia and flee the country didn't take as much thought as you thought it would.

And now you're in rainy Manchester, drying off your hair with the handy towel that hangs up in the entrance hall for you to use exactly for these moments.

"You're back?"

You smile as you rub the towel over your hair.

"I said I would before you left me."

"Left you? I'm only going to camp."

You sigh dramatically, pressing the back of your palm to your still damp forehead. "And leaving me here, all alone! Locked in this prison!"

"You were the one that decided on this apartment? You said you liked the open plan arrangement? We have a balcony?"

You press a soft kiss to Leila's lips. "You knew I was only joking. But I will miss you when you're at camp."

"I'll miss you too. Are you sure you can't come to the match?"

You nibble on the inside of your cheek.

Your life with Leila was practically perfect in every way. She was so in tune with you and your needs. She knew when you needed a break from cooking dinner or doing the grocery shop. She knew exactly when you needed a little pick me up like flowers or chocolates or even a long cuddle session in bed.

Everything was perfect but you just can't bring yourself to go back to Spain in that way, to put yourself in a situation where you'll be so close to Alexia again, the woman that you had once thought would be your wife some day.

"Baby..." You say, looking up at Leila," You know I wouldn't put you in that situation. Alexia...I don't want her to try to ostracise you from the team."

Leila sighs. "She's never done such a thing. Even...Even during...you know..."

"I know but it might be different. I mean...with me and her, it was...I don't know. I don't want you be at risk."

"I understand," Leila says, forehead pressed against your own," But if you did want to come, I've got a ticket reserved for you, alright?"

"I'll...I'll think about it. I promise."

Leila thinks about it too, all throughout camp. It circles through her mind like a dog with a bone. She wakes up thinking about. She goes to sleep thinking about it.

You've watched plenty of her matches at City, where you've become a favourite of the fans without even meaning to. You're a constant presence in the stands with a cup of whatever warm drink you poured yourself before leaving the house.

She's lost count of how many of her Panini stickers you've signed for fans before coming down onto the pitch to greet her.

But you've never come to one of her matches for Spain, not with Alexia on the team, the ever lurking looming presence of your relationship.

Leila's never really seen her captain in the same way since. She's a good captain, an amazing player but Leila's learnt how to separate those aspects of Alexia to the one that she knows you experienced, the one that had tried to manipulate you into staying in a relationship, the one that had tried to promise you everything to stay with her even after cheating.

Leila can separate the Alexia on the pitch to the one off of it but she knows that is something you can't do.

The Alexia on the pitch and off the pitch has always been the same Alexia to you. There is no separation of who she is and Leila can accept your decision to stay away for that reason.

But it still doesn't stop her from wishing you would come to see her play.

The option is open for you but Leila would never hold it against you if you decided not to.

There were plenty of other games for you to go to.

"So..." Codi wheedles during breakfast before the match," Where's the girlfriend?"

Leila almost chokes over her cereal. "At home."

"She isn't coming?"

"She has the option if she wants. She's busy."

Codi rolls her eyes. "She's always busy during international break. She's got to come at some point."

Leila rolls her eyes. "She's her own person. I won't force her to do anything."

"You've got a new girlfriend?" Alexia asks, looking up from her phone.

Leila looks back down at her bowl, swirling the milk around with the back of her spoon. "I...Yeah, I do. She's great..."

She bites her tongue, swallowing back what she actually wants to say, all of the things she wants to spit at Alexia on your behalf.

But she doesn't.

Leila stays silent, swirling her cereal around as the conversation moves on.

The pass is perfectly weighted from her on the pitch a few hours later, speeding through the legs of opposition players for Alexia to slot neatly into the net.

The rush of an assist runs through Leila as she turns to look into the stands.

You're sitting there, amongst the cheering of the fans.

Leila had seen you earlier, a surprise in a hoodie to cover your hair but your girlfriend could just see the Spanish jersey poking out from under it.

She suddenly finds herself praying that it's hers.

She'd even take it being blank.

Because Leila knows Alexia noticed you earlier, had seen you when the big screen focused on the crowd during the warm ups. She had seen Alexia stare at you. She had seen the aborted movement Alexia made towards you, like she was about to abandon the warm ups to go up to you - sweetly saccharine tone at the ready to convince you to go back to her.

Leila hopes that if you do have a name on your shirt, it's not Alexia's.

[broke-on-books]

*sigh.* okay I know this post has a lot of notes so this has likely been said many times before (so sorry) but from what I can see from the picture, this is actually NOT a Spanish (Christian kingdoms of Spain) fortress! Kind of. At least not in the way described in the post. Let me explain.

Now I'm not Spanish myself, I just study this stuff, but I've spent a decent amount of time visiting places like the one in this photo (twice. I've been there.) and studying history and architecture from this period so this claim immediately threw up a bunch of red flags for me. Because uhhhh. Muslims clearly built this fortress.

And when I say "this fortress" I'm referring to the Alhambra. Yeah, this Alhambra.

Ok so basically while I can't confirm 100% this is the Alhambra because none of the angles on the digital tour or in my own photos show that specific angle (notably, the broken wall) I can say with near certainty that he's at the Alhambra. Look at the photo again:

You can see similar features in the 2nd photo (an image I captured of the Alhambra this summer!) The strange point [location 1] in the background of our picture (NOT typical of Moorish architecture) would then be part of the Palace of Carlos V (King of Spain), where we can see the architecture style is markedly different.

& don't play the fortress vs. palace game with me! While our guy above is clearly standing somewhere in the Alcazaba (fortress portion, on the right), the oldest portion of the site, we can see similar buildings below Carlos V's palace, those being the palaces of the Nasrid dynasty, the series of Muslim rulers who were defeated when Ferdinand and Isabel took Grenada in 1492, ending the reconquista and taking the Alhambra as their own seat of power.

Basically the joke here (while funny!!) Isn't accurate because his claim that the Spanish built this fortress is incorrect bc even if it wasn't the Alhambra (which it totally is) it means that the Spanish would had to have built a fortress specifically following the styles and architecture of their enemy sometime during the centuries of reconquista instead of just. taking over a muslim-built fortress and adding a few of their own bits and pieces (maybe). Which like they're known for doing.

Like there are some historically Christian-built buildings that exist in imitation of Muslim architectural styles that do exist in Spain - aka the Mudéjar art style (ex: Pedro I's Palace in the Alcázar of Sevilla for one) but you wouldn't see that with a fortress??? Idk this got long but it's a strange claim that any Christian king would have built this, especially if it is (it is) the Alhambra which is like very famously and very clearly Islamic site. Like in the palaces they have Quran verses engraved into the walls and everything. Like that's literally what it's known for?? Also the founding purpose wouldnt be to "keep the Muslims out" it would just be to keep other ppl out. Bc thats what a fortress is for. Also Muslims built it.

TLDR; the joke is funny but does not work historically with the location pictured (where it makes no sense), which was used for essentially the exact opposite purpose described in the post. So anyways love the spirit but he would have made more sense going for a "reverse reconquista" joke instead

[pacofprunes]

thoughts on yandere!dae ho?

i think it fits him sm bc he'd be so needy and jealous 😭

you’re right anon, 110%.

warnings — manipulation, yandere content, jealousy, ptsd mentions, noncon touching, short

yandere! daeho headcanons

yandere daeho who can’t stand to be separated from you, both in and out of the games.

yandere daeho who whenever you need to use the bathroom in the games, he tries to go with you everytime.

yandere daeho who can’t stand when you talk to another guy, let alone look at another guy. always finding an excuse to get your attention. making a loud noise or dropping his food on the floor whenever you’re talking to gi-hun to stop your conversation from going any further.

yandere daeho who clings to you at night like his life depends on it. if anybody even comes near your bed he immediately sits up in case somebody’s trying to kill you. constantly paranoid and on his toes.

yandere daeho who manipulates you. he never realizes that’s what he’s doing, he unintentionally does it. he can’t help it. but so what if he is? he just wants the best for you. always shutting down and going silent if you say you’re going to go talk to gi-hun about something in private. when you ask what’s wrong he says you said it aggressively. says the way you spoke to him was very hurtful, causing you to apologize profusely and hug him tightly. a breath of relief escaping his mouth that you trusted his words and now you’re back in his arms again.

yandere daeho who makes you think you’re going crazy. you’re already in this game of death which is bound to make anybody go crazy, but now he’s twisting his words. saying one thing to you and another to someone else.

“daeho, but that’s not what you said.”

“yes it is. are you sure you didn’t mishear me?” he wants you to rely on him and only trust what he has to say. he wants you to think he’s the only one who has the right answers for you, making himself the only one you ever come to when you have a question or need help.

yandere daeho who over time you start to notice him slowly inching a little closer, his grip getting a little tighter as the days go on, so you decide to say something to him. he does apologize, but it’s only to make you feel bad.

“ah, i’m sorry. i don’t mean to be so clingy. i’ll keep my distance.” and then you’re the one who clings to him, apologizing if what you said came across wrong. telling him that he’s not clingy and that you don’t have a problem with him being so close. he doesn’t pay mind to your words though. only paying attention to the warmth he feels around his body from you before reciprocating the hug you’re giving him back.

yandere daeho who uses his ptsd from being in the marines as an excuse to jump close to you and hold onto you. with every gunshot squeezing tighter and tighter.

yandere daeho who when the lights are out and he slides into bed with you, you ask him to go. you liked him as a friend, you two weren’t a thing, so why was he so close to you? you protest to him but he only pulls you closer, shushing you, saying it’s to keep you safe and that with you in his arms, nobody will try anything throughout the night.

yandere daeho who purposely doesn’t bring the ammo back during their revolt. you’d gotten too close to all those people. junbae, gihun, youngil. if he could let them die and play it off as him being scared, he didn’t care. as long as he had you all to himself. not having to share you with a team, not having multiple people to protect you. no. he wanted to be the only one.

“daeho, what are you doing?”

everybody was dead asleep. you were laying in your bed before feeling a dip and turning to see daeho. he pulls you into his chest.

“i’m just keeping you safe.”

you try to push yourself out of his grips but his biceps just flex and stay wrapped around you.

“uhm, i appreciate the gesture, but uh—”

you gulp and take as big as a breath as you can with the little space that you have between the two of you.

“can you lay somewhere else? there’s just not much space anyways, you know?”

he moves one of his hands to run it through your hair and you shiver. it was a kind gesture, and you liked daeho, but you didn’t want this. he was your friend. nothing more, nothing less. he only squeezes you tighter though.

“don’t worry, i won’t let you fall off the bed. i won’t let you get hurt. i’d take a bullet straight through my head before i ever let a scratch even cover your beautiful skin.”

you just shrink into yourself. shrink into him, knowing that it was futile. he wasn’t harming you, so you guess it was fine for now. you take shallow breaths, your chest hitting his everytime you breathed in from the close proximity. you’d think something like this may help you sleep more but it was only gonna keep you up even longer. but maybe that’s what he was counting on. being who you could lean on and trust to save you while you’re too tired to properly play the games the next morning. you didn’t know. you just furrow your eyebrows together, forcing your eyes shut before feeling his head lean against yours, feeling his lips on your head, spreading into a smile against you.

[megamindsecretlair]

hey i just need something real nasty between husband and wife with mr.aaron (i say it key and peele😂😂) with some angst before the actual plot🤭

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, beautiful.

Made You Fall For Me

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem and male receiving), PIV, oral (female receiving), Reader is able to be picked up, use of pet names, angst. Mentions of death of a loved one, trauma. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: It had been two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death and Terry still beat himself up over it. Tired of Terry not letting you in, you join him in the shower and show him that he has a life to lead right here and now with you. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog

Word Count: 5,371k

AO3 Link

A/N: Thank you so much for dealing with my hiatus. I'm stronger mentally than I have ever been. Definitely worked on myself and stopped being so hard on myself. The kind asks really helped me find my way back, so have this smutty fic as a giant thank you! Thank you so much for all your continued support! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry sighed as he entered the bedroom. You looked up from your phone to watch your husband. 

His tall frame moved fluidly around the space, taking off of his pants and his shirt. It was soaked through having just finished at the gym. He sat on the edge of the bed to fling off his socks and toss it in the knit hamper. 

“Hey babe,” you said. 

“Hey baby,” Terry sighed.

You stared at the back of his head as his shoulders drooped the longer he sat on the bed. He looked so…dejected. Like someone sucked the air from his tires. You leaned up and let your powder blue throw blanket fall from your shoulders.

This was the second week in a row that your husband was still in this funk. Two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death where it seemed like Terry relived it all over again. It started with a dream, the very moment he ran into the hospital carrying Summer. Hopped up on adrenaline, a bullet in his shoulder, and him looking for the next threat. 

Then he would slowly withdraw mentally, checking out of conversations. Floating through the motions of going to work and getting back home. You were worried that he would get into an accident but he was able to operate on auto-pilot, navigating the world just as he normally would. 

It was both sad and amazing that he was able to do so. But this wasn’t your husband. This was a guilt ridden man who sometimes realized that he had no family. You were his family, of course, but he had no living blood relative alive. Mike was his one and only connection and that was severed by hate and pride. 

“Baby, will you please talk to me?” You asked. You fiddled with the edge of your phone. He wasn’t facing you, but you were still nervous to look at his face. You didn’t know which would be worse. Hearing you and choosing not to speak or not hearing you at all because he was lost somewhere you couldn’t reach?  

“I-I’m trying,” he said. He tilted his head to the side. You longed to comfort him, hold him, console him in some way. But every time you reached out, he would stare at you as if he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel you. 

You didn’t know how to help him through this. You’ve lost people, sure, but you always had enough family and friends to fall back on. You didn’t know what it was like for him and he was too stubborn to let you take some of his pain. 

You moved forward and crawled on the bed towards him. He stiffened as you got closer and you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You held on and placed your hand over his heart. It beat rapidly beneath your fingers and you inwardly sighed in relief. He was still in there. His heart still beat.

“You have to stop beating yourself up about this. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself forever,” you said. You kissed his back and rested your cheek on his skin. He was always so warm, like your own personal fire pit. But due to the sweat, he was cold and clammy. 

“I was supposed to protect him. That was my one and only job,” Terry said. 

“You were supposed to love him. But what happened was out of your control,” you said. 

Terry sighed and stood up, breaking your embrace. He hung his head as he walked to the bathroom. The door closed decisively and you flinched from the harsh sound. The light turned on underneath the doorway. The shower turned on and you didn’t hear anything further. 

Some days you wanted to knock your husband’s teeth in. His overprotective instincts went into hyperdrive, past the point of what was healthy. He refused to think of himself and the consequence be damned. Other times, you just wanted to wrap him in a floofy blanket and never let him out of your sight. You couldn’t very well fault him for wanting to keep you safe when you were the exact same way. 

But this…it varied on when he’d be able to pull himself out of this. Sometimes you’d say or do something to bring him back. Sometimes he’d take a deep breath and release that dark cloud. And sometimes, he’d disappear for a whole day and return back to the sweet, loving man you married. 

But fuck this. You missed your husband. And you were tired of seeing him walk around like a zombie. You got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

Steam rushed out and passed over your exposed skin. You closed the door behind you and noted the discarded underwear on the floor and a red towel on the edge of the sink. Terry’s silhouette moved just behind the foggy glass doors. 

You quickly stripped, flinging your lavender sleep set to the ground with his briefs. You stuffed your bonnet beneath a shower cap and slid the glass doors back. Terry looked over his shoulder at you and you entered the spacious shower behind him. 

The custom shower with tiles painted in different shades of brown was roomy enough for about three people comfortably if they were all intimate. Water cascaded down from a waterfall shower head, pouring down over Terry’s strong body. Water dripped from the edge of his wide nose, his full lips, and his well-defined chest. You followed the trail of water down his belly and over his long, thick dick. Water fell down in his long legs and huge feet. 

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m taking a shower,” you said. You shoved past him and grabbed your wash cloth, pulling it under the spray of water to get it wet. 

Terry huffed. “Had to be now?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P’. Instead of grabbing your favorite soap, you grabbed his and lathered up the wash cloth. 

“C’mon,” Terry said. He tugged on your arm for you to turn around. 

You did so and slapped the wash cloth against his chest. “I miss you,” you said, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He closed his mouth and grimaced, jaw flexing. 

You flattened both of your hands against his chest and stepped closer. Water hit your back at a lukewarm temperature. You had no clue how he could shower like this but that wasn’t the point. “I miss my husband and I need you to come back, right now,” you said. 

Terry closed his eyes and his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His mouth worked like he wanted to say something but the words never came. Whatever he wanted to say lodged in his throat and he couldn’t choke it out.

“So after this shower, you better step out of it and remember that you did everything right for Mike. And he made his own choices. That’s not your fault. It has never been your fault. And it’s time you accept that,” you said. 

You moved the wash cloth over his skin, scrubbing him down. Soap transferred to his body in thick suds, falling down his skin. He watched you and shut his mouth as you scrubbed him all over his chest and moved on to his arms. 

His eyes never left yours as you massaged the cloth between his fingers. He sighed and hummed as you found tense spots. You rubbed him deeper in those areas, working out the tension. 

You maneuvered behind him so he could rinse and then washed his back, creating big circles of soap. You moved down to his ass, teasing him a bit. He grunted and then chuckled. Well, that was a good sign. If he was chuckling then at least he was starting to relax. 

You washed down his legs, tickling him in areas. He danced out of your way and you warned him to be careful in this slippery ass shower.

“If you die, I’ll bring you back and kill you again,” you warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and smirked. 

You worked your way back to his front. His dick twitched and bobbed in your face. You looked up at him and his head was tilted to the side as he looked down at you. Fuck, he was pretty like this. Above you, staring at you, and in all his naked glory.

He needed to walk around like this more often. For your eyes only. That beautiful male body needed to be on display 24/7. 

You looked at his dick and then slowly dragged your eyes up his body and back to his striking ocean eyes. He took in a deep breath as his mouth curved upward. The rise and fall of his chest had an answering throb in your clit. You dropped to your knees on the hard flooring but it barely registered in your mind. 

Your husband worked his way back to you in the best way you both knew how. Sex was everything to the both of you. The one way you knew you were on solid ground. From the moment you two met, it had been electric and consuming. Always finding ways to touch each other or be near each other and breathe each other’s air. 

You dragged the wash cloth over his dick. At the first press of your hand, he hissed and jerked his hips towards you. You steadied your left hand on his hip and then stroked him with your right. 

He lifted his head towards the showerhead and let the water run down his face. Since he leaned back, water fell on top of your head and face but you kept looking towards him and the look on his face. 

He was hands down the most beautiful man you had ever met. And the kindest. He wasn’t always nice. He had more than enough words to say about folks that crossed him. But he was always kind, always treated people with respect. And he was a gentleman on top of it. Always opened your doors, always stood on the side of the street closest to danger. Every day, you found new ways to fall in love with your man. You only wished he’d forgive himself. 

“I love you. And I miss you. I need you to come back,” you told him. You increased the pressure, giving him long, slow strokes. All the way down to his base, squeezed, and then worked your way back to his tip. 

He groaned and rolled his neck, moving his hips. Your pussy throbbed seeing cum leak from his tip. He leaned one hand on the side of the shower, fingers pushing into the grooves. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” 

“You have to let me in when things get dark, Terry. I don’t like feeling like I’m on the outside,” you told him.

Terry nodded his head and his eyes turned darker. But he didn’t look so far away now. His eyes were clearer, more present. “I hate feeling like I failed,” he said. His jaw flexed and you matched him stare for stare. 

“You did everything you possibly could. You deserve a life too. Not to punish yourself for the life Mike doesn’t have,” you said. You paused stroking and let the sound of the shower fill the room. 

Steam rose to the ceiling in wispy clouds. Soap and water rushed down Terry’s body. His chest rose and fell in heaving sighs but then evened out. Once his breathing returned to normal, you began stroking him again.

He groaned and dropped his head as you increased your strokes. You watched his face and watched the emotions play across his features. His lush lips parted and he moaned, deeply and guttural. “I’m gonna bust,” he moaned.

“Give it to me,” you whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the spray of water. You kept your same pace and three strokes later, Terry’s dick throbbed and his cum splashed onto your neck and titties. 

Terry’s moans were sweet music to your ears. You grinned evilly and kept stroking. He jerked and stuttered with chuckles and reached out to still your hands. He huffed and chuckled, giving you a saucy wink. 

He pulled you up by your arms and crushed his lips to yours as soon as you were within reach. He grabbed the cloth from your hands and hung it on the lip of the shower door. He cupped your neck in both hands and angled your face to meet his rough kisses. You moaned into his mouth. You missed this. You missed him. So damn badly.

The ache in your chest finally lifted now that your man was back. He healed and soothed with every kiss, every swipe of his tongue, every caress of his thumb on your wet skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he harshly whispered between kisses. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered back.

Terry pulled back and looked into your eyes. He narrowed his and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I will call and get help later today. There’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. You deserve better from me,” he said.

You tilted your head and kissed his wrist. “I do. But I also know we’re in this for life. So I need you to let me in more,” you said.

Terry nodded. “I promise. Thank you, for sticking with me through this shit,” he said.

“That’s what wives are for,” you said with a giggle. 

Terry took a deep breath and then a mischievous gleam made his hazel eyes twinkle. A smirk curved his lips and he began to massage your neck. You hummed and your eyes drooped. “Husbands are for protecting you and taking care of you, right?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said slowly, eyeing him. He was up to something…

Terry flipped you around and pressed your chest against the glass shower doors. You cried out from the sudden cold on your nipples as he pushed until your titties flattened against the doors. He kicked your legs wider to spread for him and your body shivered from his casual roughness. 

“T-Terry,” you sighed. 

Terry locked your arms behind you, hooking his arm around your elbows so that you were unable to move. Terry licked the shell of your ear and you shuddered. He slipped his free hand around your throat to pull your neck back and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna make up for my bullshit,” he promised with heat laced through every syllable. 

“Terry, you don’t–”

Terry cut you off by moving his hand from your neck to his dick. He ran the tip through your dripping folds and then plunged inside with a rough thrust. “Oh shit!” You cried out, twisting your hands to try and slow him down. But because he had your arms trapped, you had no choice but to take his dick.

He angled your hips into a more comfortable position and then he slipped his hand back around your throat. He grunted with every deep thrust, filling you up, and making you take it. 

“Too much, too much,” you whined, trying to lean away from him. Terry pushed into you harder, pinning you to the door, while he continued to fuck you. Your forehead leaned on the doors and your breath fogged up the glass with your moans and sighs. 

“You can take it, baby,” he said, sinking you deeper and harder onto his length. He kissed your neck, licked and nibbled in areas, and moved upwards to your ear. “I love you so much. And I know I’ve been an ass. I haven’t been fair to you,” he whispered in your ear while he continued to dig into your guts.

You weren’t quite prepared for him to be so sweet and so nasty all at once. He gave you no time to fully hear his message or fully focus on his dick inside you so you were stuck in a twisted limbo. Suspended between absolute pleasure and your heart swelling with emotions. 

“That ends today, okay? I’ll prove that I’ll do better,” he said. He grunted and cursed under his breath. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s my job as your husband. And it’s a job I take seriously,” he said. He smiled against your neck and then pulled you into a rough kiss over your shoulder. Your lips danced and played with each other as your orgasm rushed to the surface. 

You began to cry and stutter as it washed over you. Terry moaned as you squeezed around his dick. “Fuck, that’s it,” he panted into your ear. 

When you came down, Terry let your arms go. He slipped out with a grunt and stepped back. You missed the heat of him instantly. He rubbed the feeling back into your arms from having them bent back for so long. He grabbed the discarded wash cloth from the top of the shower and rinsed it out.

He lathered up with his soap and then carefully washed down your back and your ass. His finger slipped between your cheeks to tease as he washed you down and you giggled with him. 

Terry turned you around and washed down your front. Washed the cum from your chest that didn’t rinse off from the water. You smiled at each other, finding your way back with every swipe of the cloth across your titties, your tummy, and down your thighs. He ran the cloth between your legs, careful not to get soap in between, and you moaned just from having his hands on you again.

His lips on yours. His eyes seeing you again after weeks of zoning out. Hints of your husband poked through that barrier he erected and now you were let in behind the wall. You grinned at him and leaned on your toes for a kiss. 

The kiss was meant to be innocent and sweet, just something to show that you loved him. That you were there and never letting him disappear again. But Terry kissed you deeper, grabbing you about the neck once more and crushed his lips to yours. 

His tongue slipped inside and then he gently nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Terry,” you sighed. Your stomach flipped with desire. Pussy throbbing. Once wasn’t nearly enough. 

“I know,” he said. He lifted your chin and brought you in for a sweet kiss. He deepened the kiss even as he maneuvered you towards the shower wall. He lifted you by the ass to wrap your legs around his hips. 

“Fuck,” you cried out. It never ceased to amaze you that he was so strong. He worked hard in the gym to take care of himself but also to lift every pound you had. He lifted without effort, without strain, and grinned when he caught the look on your face. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Terry said. He stared into your eyes as he pushed back into you. Back into your warm, wet heat and you both groaned as he pushed in slowly, all the way down to the base. 

Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, clutching on for dear life. He was huge and thick. Long. He pulled back and then sank in once more, repeating this over and over to make you feel every last inch of him. Feel his mushroom head push against your soft, spongy walls welcoming him in. 

Your mouth dropped open, needing to release something. A cry, a moan, a word. Nothing came as he stroked into you, increasing with each one. Soon, he was slamming into you. His wet, loud strokes echoed in the tiled shower and your cries soon joined it. 

“You feelin’ me?” He asked. 

You nodded. You adjusted your arms around his neck and he dropped his forehead to yours. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. You locked your eyes with him and it somehow made his strokes even more intense. He throbbed inside you. 

“You feel me. Right here and now. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going away again,” he moaned while he stroked. 

“Terry,” you sniffled. 

Fuck, this was all you ever wanted. You didn’t need him to be perfect. You didn’t need him to be a textbook definition of a husband. You just wanted him present and with you. Sharing his pain and his joys. Sickness and health. Better and worse. Those were the vows you swore before a room full of your close friends and family. 

“I feel you. I feel you right here,” you promised. 

Terry switched up his strokes, getting deeper than before and bottoming out. You both groaned and threw your heads back, getting lost in the sensation of him filling you up. Connecting the both of you. As close as you could possibly be to another human being. 

Terry leaned down and kissed you, playing with your lips, even as his hips slammed into you over and over. Pressure built in your belly, making your thighs quake and your arms tremble. “Terry, please, I can’t,” you begged. It was too much. It felt like you were out of control, out of your norm, unrooted. 

Terry only continued exactly what he was doing. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You can keep going,” he said. 

Your eyes swam and your vision turned blurry as you clung to him and came undone on his dick again. Your cries were loud enough to echo and bounce off of the tiled walls and ceiling, giving you a feedback loop of your own pleasure. It amplified your orgasm and you shut your eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming feeling. 

Terry kissed you all over your face, neck, and shoulders. He pumped you into you until his own hips stuttered and shot loads of thick cum into your pussy. You whined and shivered as he fucked his cum deeper and deeper. 

He slowed to a gradual stop and you stayed connected like that while you both recovered. Water still pelted the both of you and you kissed on each other, soaking up the moment. Terry leaned over and turned off the water, still holding you.

He smiled and kissed your lips. He nuzzled your nose. “Missed this,” he said.

“Me too,” you said. You kissed his cheek. 

Terry carefully stepped out of the shower with you still wrapped around him like a spider monkey. You were glad. Because now that you had him back, you weren’t ready to let him go. As if you would keep him here with you by sheer force of will. 

He moved the towel from the edge of the sink and placed you down, slipping out of you. You kissed and loved on each other while he dried the both of you off. Greedy for more, you reached between you to play with his heavy balls. 

Terry groaned and tilted his head down at you. “You sure you wanna do that?” He asked.

You continued fondling his balls, rubbing them between your fingers, and making him moan. His hips canted towards yours and you bit your lip, needing him back inside. Two orgasms weren’t enough. No number would satisfy you. 

“It’s been too long,” you pouted and looked at him. 

He chuckled and kissed you, taking possession of your poked out lip. He suckled on it and you moaned, feeling your pussy respond and ache from just this small action. 

“Get that sexy ass on our bed. Let me clean up in here and I’ll take care of that,” he said. 

You pouted again and whined but he bit your lip. “Now.” He deepened his voice and arched a perfect eyebrow at you. 

You rolled your eyes and his eyebrow lifted higher. You grinned and hopped off the sink. While being punished for your attitude would be fun, you just wanted him right now. No extras, no games. You wanted to enjoy him and enjoy his body. 

He smacked your ass as you walked out and he chuckled after you shrieked and hid your ass behind your hands. You skipped to your bedroom and laid down on your bed. Cool air blew across your damp skin but it wasn’t freezing or uncomfortable.

The temperature was just right to make you hyper aware of your body. Of the feel of your skin and the thorough fucking Terry just gave you. Your pussy was still sensitive but you couldn’t resist teasing your clit. You ran your other hand along your skin, your belly, and your titties. Squeezing your nipple between your fingers and moaning from the dual sensations. 

“Terry…” you called out, drawing out his name. If he didn’t get in here soon, you were about to take matters into your own hands. 

The afternoon sun was setting low, rich oranges and golds slanting through your curtains and casting a warm glow about your room. Most days, you hated that your place faced east and west, but on lazy days like today, it was perfect. 

Terry moved about the bathroom, you had no clue what he was doing. So you closed your eyes and continued to play with yourself. You grew wetter by the second, your mind filling in with images of Terry’s broad chest. His narrow hips. That monster he had between his legs and the unbridled pleasure he managed to provide every single time. 

God, you loved that man. In every which way you were able to get him. You didn’t have the words to convey it but you’d spend the rest of your life trying to find them. 

You moaned as your imagination took over. Replaying what happened in the shower, the look on his face, the fire in his hazel eyes. You sighed as Terry entered the room.

“Oh, you bold,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. 

You didn’t stop though. You spread your legs further and shifted on the bed so that he could get a clearer view. “All warmed up for you,” you teased. 

Terry’s eyes dropped to the core of you, at the way you held your pussy lips open. Your other hand teased around your clit in figure eights, dipping into your pussy every so often to gather up more essence. 

Terry’s tongue swiped out to lick from one side to the other. Your fingers lost their rhythm. “Keep going,” he commanded. 

You whined and started up again but you couldn’t think straight. Not with him leaning against the wall looking at you like you were a five course meal and he was a starving man. When you just couldn’t find that spot again, Terry smirked and walked closer.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You,” you said. 

Terry smirked and took his time kneeling at the edge of the bed. He grabbed your thighs and pressed his thumbs to your inner thighs, massaging them. “Fuck,” you moaned and twisted, trying to close your legs and trap his hands there.

“Naw. Open back up. That’s what you get for trying to handle it yourself,” he said. 

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” you said and smirked. Terry lifted an eyebrow but his eyes were still on your throbbing pussy. He had to see how you were clenching around nothing. Clenching and reaching for him. 

He leaned down and kissed your clit. He retreated too quickly for your blood and you whined, pushing your hips back towards his face. 

“I’m still apologizing so I won’t make you beg this time,” he said. Without further ado, he dragged his pink, juicy lips through your folds, hunting for your clit. His tongue darted out and teased, dragging the tip through your folds. His tongue was warm as it flattened against your clit and he licked.

“Fuck!” You screamed out. 

Terry smiled between your legs before getting down to business. He suckled and licked and nibbled while he feasted on your pussy. Your pussy throbbed and ached while he slurped up your essence noisily. 

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” you moaned.

Terry locked in to the spot and swirled his tongue around in tight circles. You clutched to the covers, nails digging in for dear life as you twisted and jerked. You reached down to grab onto the back of his head and push his head deeper. 

Terry placed his hands to your thighs and pinned them to the bed while he ate you out, never stopping for breath. He just ate like a man possessed until you were twitching and crying out on his tongue, reaching your climax in record time.

Terry continued to eat you out through it, whispering into your pussy how perfect and sexy you were. How much he had to make up for. Your throat was scratched raw from all the moaning you were doing, too spent to respond. To tell him that he didn’t have a damn thing to make up for. His pain was valid and he had a right to see it through, but he had to see it through. Not just disappear into his head.

None of that came through. Your vision swam as you looked at the popcorn ceiling, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence. Terry replaced the view of the ceiling, leaning down on his fists, as he smirked at you.

“Still with me?” He asked.

“Always,” you sighed. 

He chuckled as he climbed onto the bed. It dipped beneath his weight, jostling you a bit. His knees pushed your legs on top of his thighs. His eyes sparkled as he slipped into you, meeting no resistance from your pussy.

“Shit,” you grunted. You pushed feebly at his chest. Not necessarily to make him stop, but fuck, you needed time to recover. Time to catch your breath. He stole the motherfucker, the least he could do was let you gain it back.

“Nothing feels better than this,” he said. He sank deeper into you, making you curl into him and squeeze his hips with your legs. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, poking your chest out for his lips to capture your nipples.

He suckled on them, going back and forth between the two, while he fucked into you lazily. Unhurried. Like he managed to pause time long enough to focus on delivering you pleasure. His eyes found yours and he smiled, his dazzling grin turning you stupid and pliant.

He groaned as he felt your body relax and he dug into you, harder, deeper, faster. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you moaned.

“Cum with me, baby,” he said.

You whined and focused on cumming with him like he said. You could feel him throbbing inside you, close, oh so close. You panted, sweating, legs trembling, back bowing. He leaned to one side so that he could slip his free hand between your legs to play with your clit.

Your moans increased to a near panic as your orgasm came running at his beck and call. You cried out and your squeezing pussy milked him. He moaned and dropped his head as he spilled into you over and over, his body trembling from the force. 

He kissed your cheek but you otherwise laid there and enjoyed the feeling of him crushing you to the bed. Who needed oxygen anyway?

Your stomach rumbled, breaking the beautiful silence after such a powerful moment. You both laughed as it rumbled again. Terry released your hands and you covered your tummy. He pushed your hands away with his chin and then kissed your belly. 

“We’re gonna need another shower and then I need to feed my wife,” he said.

“Feed your wife or feed your wife?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows. You were spent and tired but you could find another round in you for him. Always for him. 

“Both, nasty ass,” he said. He stood up and then pulled you with him to stand as well. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss and promised over and over with both his tongue and his actions that he would become a man worthy of your love. 

The end.

I love you all. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[wandaslittlebird]

It Was Never Perfect

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After your perfect week alone with Wanda, the rest of your family comes home. You start to wonder if it was the right choice to even come home in the first place.

CW: R is hella jealous of everyone, stepcest, shitty father, possessive sex, body writing, oral sex, overstimulation, risky sex, Freud’s rolling in his grave, R is a little freak

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This one kinda sucks and it’s very angst heavy. It’s kinda a huge fucking downer but in a slightly ✨sexy✨ way. I promise chapter 5 will be well worth it though. Sorry this took so long to come out!

Part 4 of Her Special Girl

———————————————————

For what it’s worth, you did get to wake up in Wanda’s arms on Christmas morning. You were gently shaken awake at 6:30 in the morning with light kisses to your face. “Merry Christmas, little love,” she whispered. 

You flopped over onto her chest, a sleepy smile plastered across your face. “Merry Christmas, mama.”

The two of you spent the whole morning in bed together, tangled in each other's limbs. You didn’t even get up to brush your teeth before your lips were pressed to hers. Neither of you minded, though. You were far too concerned with having your hands and lips all over each other to let something as silly as morning breath stop you. 

Around 9 o’clock though, when your lips had just made their way to her navel, you heard the front door open. Wanda groaned, reluctantly pushing you away and rolling out of bed. She put on a pair of Christmas pajamas and threw you a pair onto the bed. You reluctantly pried yourself off her mattress, putting on the pajamas.   

You heard the shouts as soon as she left the bedroom. “Mommy!”s suddenly filled the foyer and the staircase as you heard little footsteps scramble their way up the stairs. The sound made your stomach turn with envy. That was your mama. 

You walked out of the bedroom to find everyone in the foyer. Billy and Tommy, your stepbrothers and Wanda’s other children, were wrapped tightly around her waist. Wanda’s real children, you reminded yourself. 

She had her arms wrapped around them as she kissed both of their heads. “I missed you boys so much! It’s been so lonely around here without you guys.” She knelt down on the ground, kissing all over their faces in the manner she’d kissed yours only hours ago. 

Your stomach went sour. Lonely? She’d spent the week feeling lonely? No. She was lying. She was just saying that to make them feel better. She hadn’t been lonely. She had you. You were all she needed, right?

She only twisted the knife further when she stood up straight to greet your father. “I’ve missed you, my love,” she said softly before taking his face in her hands and kissing him. 

You thought you were going to be sick. You turned around and ran into the bathroom, bracing yourself against the sink. This couldn’t be happening. You were her love. You were her baby. You were her favorite, her whole world, the only person she’d ever need. She spent the week telling you so. So why were suddenly feeling like the least important person in this entire house?

You turned on the sink and splashed your face with cool water. You watched yourself in the mirror as the cool water ran down your chin. Suddenly, you were 18 all over again…

—--------

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, getting ready for the day, beaming with pride and excitement. You’d been working for two whole years and it finally paid off. You’d spent months studying to get your GED, then even longer studying to get a near perfect score on your ACT, all to get to this moment: getting accepted to college. A full ride to the local university, nonetheless. Wanda was going to be ecstatic.

You’d found out last night, but you wanted to wait until morning to tell Wanda, when the boys had left for school, your dad had left for work, and it was just the two of you alone. You crept into her office, the piece of paper held firmly in your hands. 

By the time you knocked on the door though, Wanda looked tired and pissed. “Mama?” you called into the room, hoping this would cheer her up. 

You hadn’t noticed Wanda was on the phone. She put her finger to her lips to indicate you needed to be quiet. You dropped your hands to the side, chewing on your lip impatiently. 

 “Yeah, okay,” she sighed to the person over the phone. “I’ll be there soon.”

She hung up the phone and threw it into her bag. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly cut off. “I’ve gotta go to the school. Tommy apparently thought it would be funny to shove his brother in a locker,” she said with an exasperated sigh. She picked her bag up from under the desk, practically shoving past you to get out the door. 

“But, mama…” you said, trying to run down the stairs after her. 

“Can you make sure my computer doesn’t shut off before I get back, please? I’ve gotta go,” she interrupted again, walking out the front door and all but slamming it in your face. 

You froze for a minute, heart shattering into a million pieces. Time seemed to stand still as the letter fell from your hand and onto the ground of the foyer. You shrunk into yourself, feeling like the tiniest, most insignificant thing on the entire planet. You tucked your knees to your chest, sitting on the bottom step. Tears poured from your eyes, clogging your sinus until you could hardly breathe. Sobs ripped through your chest, echoing through the foyer so loud it shook the glass chandelier. 

It was always going to be like this. You shouldn’t have expected anything less, really. Wanda was never yours to begin with. You were stupid for thinking she cared. You were even stupider to think she cared about you over her own kids. Her real kids. Whatever you thought you had with her, whatever you thought she felt, was a fairytale. 

You had a mother, a real one, and she didn’t care about you. You were dealt a shitty hand, and you still thought you could somehow win the game. This “having a mother” thing was simply an impossibility for you. You could toil all you wanted. It was futile. You had already lost.

This was reality. You were alone. 

You were already tucked up in the furthest corner of your room when Wanda walked through the front door. “You, young man, are gonna spend the rest of the afternoon in your room finishing up all this homework you missed,” She sternly informed Tommy, sending him angrily up the stairs. He slammed his bedroom door, only furthering Wanda’s fury. 

She set down her bag and shoes at the door, huffing. She noticed a piece of paper carelessly discarded on the hardwood. She sighed in annoyance. Did anyone know how to pick up after themselves around here?

She picked up the piece of paper, charging up the stairs. She knocked on your bedroom door.. “Honey? You left this in the foyer. I really need you to start picking up after yourself, okay? You can’t just be leaving things all over the house.”

When you didn’t answer, she huffed again. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work.” She folded up the paper and slid it under the crack of your door without reading it. She went back to her office without another word. 

You made your way to the door, taking the letter in your hands and ripping it in half. You weren’t going to that stupid fucking university. You weren’t going to stay in this stupid fucking town. You were done playing house with a family that wasn’t yours. You were done savoring the praise of the woman who wasn’t even your real mom. 

You were going to go somewhere new. Somewhere better. You were gonna find people who cared about you. 

You didn’t need her. You didn’t need anyone. If no one else was going to be happy for you, you were going to be happy for you. And that was going to be enough. That was going to have to be. There was nothing else. 

—--------

You shivered, drying your face before heading downstairs. 

“Hey, honey! Look boys! It’s your sister!” Wanda cheered, trying to get the boys excited to see you. They shyly hid behind her legs, scared in the way children get when an unfamiliar presence intrudes on their familiarity. You hadn’t seen them in over two years. You were practically a stranger. 

“Are you coming to your grandmother’s with us?” your father asked. 

You looked at Wanda. She could immediately read more than just confusion. There was something very wrong. “She’s gonna stay here. With me,” she answered for you. 

Your father made no comment, turning back to the boys. “Alright fellas, go bring your bags up to your rooms. We gotta get to grandma’s for presents.”

“Presents” seemed to be the magic word, as the boys immediately ran up the stairs, carrying their bags with them and getting ready to leave again. You, Wanda, and your dad were all left in the foyer.

There was a terribly awkward silence, then Wanda spoke up. “Well,” she started, “speaking of presents, we were just finishing the last of the wrapping up in the bedroom. We should get back to it. So it’s done by the time you all get back. Right?” She looked at you, raising her eyebrows expectantly. 

You nodded, desperate to get out of this situation. “Right.”

Wanda wasted no time grabbing your hand and whisking you away. When she reached the top of the steps, she called back down to your father. “We’re wrapping things for you, so don’t come up here!”

She pulled you into the bedroom, shutting the door gently behind you. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What’s wrong, little love?”

Your brow furrowed in something between sadness and anger. “You’re my mama. Mine.” 

She cocked her head to the side, trying not to look amused as you were very clearly upset. “Aww, sweetheart,” she whispered with a slight chuckle. “Of course I’m your mama, sweet girl.”

You stood in front of her silently, the same angry and sad look on your face. 

“Oh come on, don’t give me that face,” she said quietly, cupping your cheek in her hand. “Is it hard for you to share mama after you’ve had her to yourself all week?”

You nodded, face softening ever so slightly. “You kissed dad! And… and you told the boys you had a bad week with me!”

“Honey,” she said, a bit firmer this time. “That isn’t what I said. I told the boys I missed them. And we both know I take no pleasure in kissing your father. Can you tell me what’s really got you so worked up? Talk to mama.”

You rubbed your arm, hesitant to spill your concerns. “Now that your real family is back you're gonna forget all about me like mom did,” you finally said, speaking just above a whisper. 

“Oh sweetheart. No no no. Mama’s not gonna forget about you,” she gently pulled you into her arms, tucking your head just under her chin. “I could never forget about you. You’re mama’s special girl, remember?”

“Promise?” You asked weakly.

“I promise,” she assured. 

You stood for a moment, trying to find solace in her arms. When you couldn’t find any, you desperately demanded “say it again.” 

But before she could respond you heard your dad shout up from the basement. “Come on boys! We’re gonna be late to grandma’s!” 

Wanda pulled away. “I should help them get ready,” she explained, turning to leave the room. You winced as she closed the door, leaving you alone in her room. 

You were beyond angry. You were seething, practically vibrating with jealousy. 

You sulked to the bed, looking to the nightstand and picking up the black sharpie Wanda was using to write on the gifts last night. You uncapped the marker, staring at the black felt tip. Permanent may not actually mean permanent, but it wouldn’t come off for at least a few days. 

You were gonna make sure everyone knew who she belonged to. 

It was only a few minutes before you heard Wanda shouting out the front door, wishing the boys and your father safe travels. You waited impatiently, counting each step you heard on her way back to the bedroom. 

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, you were on her, tearing at her closer, trying to get her closer. She took your hands in hers, stilling them. “Woah woah woah. Slow down. We have plenty of time.” 

But when she looked in your eyes, she didn’t see the same seductive, blissful face she’d seen this morning where you’d left off before your dad got home. No. You were angry. Possessive. Jealous.

“So that’s how this is gonna be,” she conceded with a smirk. She didn’t say anything more, but she looked almost excited. You didn’t respond, holding that same dangerous glare. She let go of your hands, giving you silent permission to continue. 

You pushed her body backwards until it hit the wall. You lips met hers in a harsh, bruising kiss that would leave both your lips swollen. You only pulled away for a moment to rip her shirt off over her head. She moaned as your hands pawed at her breast, squeezing them hard enough to hurt. You teased her nipples between your pointer finger and thumb, pinching and pulling them until she yelped. 

When you were sure her lips were puffy and raw, you made your way down her body, kneeling in front of her until you were face to face with her center. You looked up at her hungrily as you slowly pulled at the waistband of her pajama pants. “Say it again, mama. Tell me I’m special and you love me the most.”

She gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up and stroking your cheekbone with her thumb. Even in your lustful, jealous haze there was a moment of peace when she said “You’re my most special girl, little love. Mama loves you more than anything in the world.”

You made short work of pulling her underwear and pants the rest of the way down. You gently kissed her mound before hungirly diving into her core, sucking her clit into your mouth. Her eyes closed and her mouth fell open in a blissful expression. She reached down and grabbed your hair, keeping you pressed tight against her. “Oh… fuck… please… oh my love…”

She threw her leg over your shoulder, pulling you even closer as your tongue circled her entrance. You reached up to stead her waist with your hands, holding her in place. “You’re making mama feel so good baby. Fuck I love you so much,” she panted, her legs starting to shake. She pulled one of your hands from her waist, holding it tight for support. 

“You’re gonna make mama cum, baby,” she breathed, arching away from the wall. You could feel her heel digging into your back as her wetness coated your tongue. You were addicted to her taste, and determined to be the only one who ever got the privilege of tasting her again. Your nails dug into the skin of her thigh as her hand tightened in your hair. She came with a silent scream, nearly collapsing to the ground against the wall. 

She smiled at you, satisfied. But you had that same hungry look in your eye. A look that told her you were far from done. 

“Say it again,” you demanded weakly. As angry as you were, you still just looked so little and desperate. You just wanted to be loved. You just wanted your mama. 

“Baby,” she cooed. She was still panting and disheveled. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Say. It. Again.” You commanded, biting down on your own lip. 

“You are my most precious angel. My most special girl,” she repeated. 

Wordlessly, you laid on your stomach in front of her, your face hovering over her sex. You blew cool air against the sensitive skin. You brought two fingers to her entrance, which, coated with the remains of her orgasm, gave no resistance.

“Ah,” she hummed, “careful baby. Mama’s very sensitive. Oh fuck…”

She bucked into your hand as your fingers curled to meet that special spot inside of her. You lowered your head, pulling her clit back into your mouth and flicking it lightly with the tip of your tongue. She threw her head back, arching herself further into your mouth. She groaned as you added a third finger, pumping yourself in and out of her in rhythm with your tongue. 

She grabbed your hair, chanting your name and grinding herself against you. “No one else can do this to me baby. It’s only you. Only you can make mama fall apart like this.” Her words encouraged you and you doubled down, circling her sensitive bud with your tongue.

“Honey… fuck you’re gonna make mama cum again,” she breathed, biting down hard on her lip as she came around your fingers. 

This time, you didn’t pull away, continuing your ministrations even after her orgasm subsided.

“Please baby… I can’t…” she panted. She squirmed against your tongue, trying to escape the ceaseless pleasure. You pulled your fingers away, instead wrapping both your arms around her thighs. You held her in place, determined to draw one final orgasm from her. 

You alternated between her entrance and her clit, pressing your tongue hard against her. Her legs trembled around your head, unable to handle the sensation. You hummed around her clit, spelling your name with your tongue over and over again. 

She came faster this time, forcibly pushing you away as she sprayed a stream of cum onto the carpet. You watched in fascination. You had never seen anyone cum that hard. She went limp against the wall, exhausted. 

You helped her up onto the bed, letting her rest against the headboard. You ran to the bathroom quickly to get her a glass of water and a towel, just like she always did for you. 

“Thank you,” she smiled, gratefully accepting them both. She had taught you so well. 

You knelt down between her legs, laying your head down on her stomach. “I love you, mama,” you said softly, nuzzling into her navel. 

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she replied, running her fingers gently through your hair. “Are you feeling better now? Do you think you can play nice with your dad and brothers?”

You didn’t respond. You felt better, but swirling thoughts still lingered on your mind. You thought about your father taking your place in her bed. Would she let him touch her like you had? Would he draw the same heavenly sounds from her? Would she tell him she loved the way he touched her too? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You could deal with kisses, the hugs, the words of affection, but you couldn’t deal with that.

You sat up and grabbed the sharpie from the nightstand, uncapping with your teeth. She grabbed your wrist. “Honey. We can’t. You know that.”

“He’s not allowed to see you here!” You screamed in despair, pointing at her lower abdomen. 

She looked into your desperate eyes. Sex was a scarcity between her and your father anyway. He almost certainly wouldn’t see it. She would just have to be careful getting in and out of the shower. The risk was high, but, if it could bring you even a little relief, the reward was higher. She sighed. “Alright, sweetheart. Keep it below the waist and above the mid thigh.”

You started with your name, big and bold just below her abdomen. You wrote it smaller in cursive on her inner thighs and then initialled and put a heart right next to each of her nipples before sitting back to admire your creation. 

You added a few more hearts along her pelvis before capping the marker and putting it back on the nightstand. 

Your dialated eyes and possessive gaze didn’t escape Wanda’s notice. She reached up and rubbed your chin. “I’m all yours baby. Do you like that? Knowing no one else gets to touch mama like you do? Nobody else makes mama feel so good.”

You nodded eagerly. “Not even dad because you love me more than him, right.”

She smiled gently and pulled you down to rest against her bare chest. “That’s exactly right, sweetheart. Not even your father makes me feel like you do.” She tapped the tip of your nose affectionately. “Now let’s get this shirt off so mama can hold you nice and close.” 

You put your arms up so she could pull the dense sweater from your body. She discarded it to the side along with the clothes you’d torn off her earlier. You laid flat against her warm skin. Her nails gently scratched up and down your back. “There we go. That’s my sweet girl. Do you feel better now?”

You nodded against her chest, wrapping your arms around her in the tight space between her body and the mattress. She played with your hair, silently at first, but then she started to sing softly. You recognize the tune, but the words were in Wanda’s native language. 

You laid like that for a long time, listening to the soft beat of her heart, until the front door opened again and you heard two sets of little feet running through the foyer. Reluctantly, you peeled yourself away and put back on your sweater. 

Once you were both dressed, you reached to unlock the door, but Wanda grabbed your hand. 

“Wait. One more thing,” she said, turning you around to face her. She knelt down in front of you and lifted your shirt. “Hold this.”

You cocked your brow in confusion, but held your sweater up. It was only when she lifted her hand to touch your stomach that you noticed the sharpie between her fingers. You felt the cool tip glide across your stomach, just above your navel. In her neat cursive penmanship, she had written “Mama’s Special Girl”. She capped the marker and grabbed your hip on either side, pulling you close and kissing your stomach. The kiss left a distinct red lipstick print just under her words. You beamed as you looked down at what she had left. 

She climbed to her feet, dropping your sweater to cover the message. “Alright. Let’s go have Christmas.”

—--------

Despite your reservations, Christmas went better than expected. It helped that your father, in his usual shitty mood, left to go take a nap, claiming he was exhausted and it just couldn’t wait. No one protested. 

The boys opened their presents with all the excitement expected of 8 year olds. It did actually make you feel better that they warmed up to you quickly. Maybe you couldn’t be the only person in Wanda’s life, but it was nice to least be part of her family. You kept your hand on your stomach, soothing yourself with the thought of the special words that sat just underneath the fabric.

Wanda, as usual, went way overboard with the gifts, despite you not asking for anything. Some of them were marked “From: Dad” or “From: Santa”, but you knew they were all from her. She had gotten you some dorm room decorations, a lego set, and every item off of your amazon wishlist, a list you didn’t even know she still had access to. She must’ve kept the link from years ago when you still lived at home. 

Once all the presents were gone, the boys ran happily around the house, playing with their newly acquired toys. Wanda smiled from her spot next to you on the couch, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Did you get everything?”

You smiled and nodded. “And more. What about you?”

She rubbed your chin affectionately. “Well, you’re here. So you tell me.”

You chuckled and looked nervously down at your lap. “There’s actually something else.”

“Oh?” she asked cheekily. 

You got up from the couch and grabbed an envelope from the mantle. You fidgeted nervously with the corner as you brought it to Wanda on the couch. “To: Mama” was scrawled in your messy handwriting on the back.

She carefully opened the envelope revealing an acceptance letter. A full ride scholarship to your local university for the spring semester. You were coming home. For good.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes brimmed with tears. “Is this… are you…”

You nodded and she grabbed you, pulling you down on the couch with her in a tight hug. “I love you so much. After my boys, I never thought I could ever be so lucky to get another special blessing in my life. But I found you,” she cradled your head in close. “And I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

[4linos]

they call you clingy pt. 2

ot8 x fem!reader

genre: slight angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. (mostly) happy endings.

wc: 8916

(read they call you clingy pt. 1 first)

bang chan

When Chan returned home later that night, he was overwhelmed with guilt. He expected to be greeted with a warm embrace, maybe even a soft joke about how awkward he had been earlier. But when he entered your shared bedroom, he was greeted with silence. The lights were dark, and you sat on the edge of the bed, back to him. "Y/N?" He called out quietly, almost pleading.

You did not respond.

Chan's heart fell as he got closer, but you flinched when you felt him behind you. He stood there for a while, unsure of what to do, before finally speaking, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I said. It was a terrible joke. Please… please look at me.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough for him to see the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes were red and swollen, and your expression was tight, like you were holding everything in. The sight broke him, and he stepped forward, kneeling in front of you, trying to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I was frustrated, and I let it all out in the worst way. I’m so sorry, I should’ve never said that. You’re not clingy. I don’t think that at all. I was wrong. I never should’ve made you feel that way.”

You shook your head slowly, your voice cold. “No, you meant it. I heard the way you said it. You don’t want me around. You think I’m suffocating you.”

“I don’t,” Chan whispered urgently, his hands reaching out to touch yours, but you pulled them away. “I don’t think that. I swear. I don’t want you to think that at all. I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

But you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to believe him, but the words still stung too much. The way he had looked at you with indifference, how he dismissed your presence like it was something burdensome. It wasn’t just the words it was the way it made you feel so small, like you weren’t wanted.

You stood up suddenly, avoiding his touch. “I just need some space, Chan. Please. Just leave me alone tonight.”

Chan flinched, but he didn’t argue. He nodded, his heart breaking as he quietly walked out of the room. He knew he had crossed a line, and the weight of that reality hit him hard. He didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning on the couch, feeling the distance between you both like a wall that couldn’t be scaled.

The next morning, Chan woke up early, with his mind still filled with guilt. He'd apologized the night before, but he knew it wasn't enough. He needed to express how sorry he was and how much he cared. He crept quietly into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast, hoping to get it right for once. When the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the apartment, he returned to your bedroom, gently knocked on the door before opening it slightly.

You sat on the side of the bed, looking out the window. Your back was still turned to him, but when you heard him enter, you had stayed still.

Chan took a deep breath, his voice soft. “I made breakfast… for us. Please, can we just eat together? I want to talk.”

You didn't say anything at first, but eventually nodded and stood up, following him into the kitchen. You both sat silently, the tension hanging between you like a cloud. Chan pushed the dish of pancakes toward you, his hands shaking slightly. He took a breath and spoke again, his voice full of earnestness.

"You were not clinging, Y/N. I was wrong. You aren't suffocating me. I adore having you around; I always do. I… I'm not sure why I said that. My frustration clouded my judgment, and I hurt you. I'm really sorry."

You didn’t answer right away, but the tightness in your chest slowly loosened. You looked up at him, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

You sighed softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “It just hurt, Chan. I… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You’re never a burden,” he said quietly. “You’re my partner. I want you to be with me. Always. You nodded, the words finally sinking in. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “No, I deserve it. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you both ate in silence, the unspoken understanding between you filling the room with a quiet comfort. The hurt was still there, but you knew you could heal it together.

lee know

The warmth from the burns on your leg persisted, but the coldness in your chest stung the most. You sat on the edge of the bed, carefully placing a cold compress against your skin, hoping that the discomfort sting would ease.

Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what had just transpired in the kitchen. Minho, your Minho, had yelled at you, and the words cut worse than anything physical could. You couldn't understand how it had come to this.

You had tried so hard to help, to lighten his burden, but instead you had made matters worse. The kitchen was a wreck, your leg was on fire, and your heart felt like it had been ripped open by the very person who had always made you feel safe. You wanted to believe it was just a moment of frustration, something that could be forgiven, but the distance between you both felt insurmountable.

When Minho’s voice called from the living room, it felt like the world’s weight pressed on your chest. “Hey... can we talk?" He sounded tired, but there was an undertone of hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen.

You didn’t respond, hoping the silence would send the message you weren’t ready to face him just yet. But moments later, the sound of his footsteps in the hall brought you back to reality, and before you could register, he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom.

His expression shifted from confusion to panic when he saw you sitting there, the cold compress against your leg, and your tear-streaked face. His eyes widened, a rush of guilt flooding over him.

"What... what happened?" His voice was quieter and more uncertain now. He took a step forward, peering down at the reddening skin on your leg. "I—oh God, did you burn yourself?" His eyes scanned yours for a response, his hand quivering slightly as he reached out to touch your leg. You didn't say anything. You couldn’t find the words. The burn hurt badly, but the heaviness of his words in the kitchen made it intolerable.

Minho's hands shook as he gently led you to lie down on the bed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His voice cracked slightly as he rubbed a cool cloth on the burns, the chill alleviating the sting slightly.

You finally let yourself to cry, tears rocking your chest and the emotional weight coming down on you. You didn't understand how much you were holding back until the tears started pouring freely. "I-I'm sorry for the soup," you said through sobbing. "I didn't mean to ruin everything. "I just... wanted to help."

Minho's face softened, expressing regret and disbelief. He wiped your tears away with his thumb, his voice barely audible. "Stop. I don't care about the soup. Not when you're hurt. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"

His words felt like a balm to your wounded heart, but they didn’t erase the ache. You buried your face in his chest as he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You don’t deserve that... you never deserve that.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten even more. You clung to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, needing his warmth, his presence. “Minho... I just—everything went wrong today. And then you... you made me feel like I was a burden.” Your voice trembled, and the weight of your emotions finally broke free.

Minho’s arms tightened around you as he whispered into your hair, “I never meant to make you feel that way. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. But you are not a burden. You never will be. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You could feel his hands softly comb through your hair, comforting you as you kept crying into him. The tears weren't simply over the soup, the burn, or the day's failures. It was all about trying to keep things together, to be strong, and not show how overwhelmed you were. And everything came tumbling down in his arms. "I should have been there for you today." "I should have seen how much you were struggling," Minho said, his voice thick with regret. "I'm not upset at you. I should never have said that. I'm so sorry."

You nodded into his chest, the tears slowly subsiding as his comforting words washed over you. Despite everything, despite the mess and the hurt, there was still love between you two, even if it was lost in the chaos for a moment.

“I love you,” Minho whispered, his hand gently wiping away the last of your tears. “Please, forgive me.”

You pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. There was nothing but tenderness there now, no trace of the frustration that had clouded his expression before. “I love you too,” you said, your voice still shaky, but steadying. ���I know you didn’t mean it. I just... I just had such a bad day. Everything went wrong, and I was just trying to fix it... and I ended up making it worse.”

Minho kissed your forehead again, his lips lingering for a moment. “You don’t have to fix everything. You don’t have to carry it all alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me help you.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief settle over you as his arms wrapped around you again. “I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, hugging him tighter. “I just... I wanted to help you. To make it better. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

“I know,” Minho whispered back. “And you didn’t make it worse. I promise.”

As the silence between you two grew, the storm within you began to calm. It wasn't entirely mended yet, but for the first time that day, you felt like you weren't going through it alone. You felt at ease in his embrace, and you gradually began to hope that things can get better again.

changbin

Changbin's breath came out in weak, raspy gasps as he stood there watching you walk away. Every instinct in his body shouted for him to go after you, to draw you back and explain himself, but something in the air held him still. The severity of his own words resonated in his thoughts, a jarring reminder of the damage he had just done. You were hurt. And now, so was he.

He watched as your form disappeared through the exit, the door closing softly behind you. The gym suddenly felt suffocating. The weight of his own anger and frustration, which he had not yet fully comprehended, seemed to settle in his chest like a stone. He turned over, and his face flushed, his head dizzy with regret. He never wanted to make you feel like this, never wanted you to feel like a burden. His mind was spinning with confusion, but one thing was painfully clear: he had messed up. Badly.

He stood there for a long time, eyes fixed on the door, as if begging you to return, but he knew it was pointless. He had said too much. The damage was done.

You'd never felt smaller than you did at that time. Changbin's words felt like a hefty blow to the chest, knocking the air out of you. You weren't expecting him to snap. Sure, he'd been distant before, but this was different. The sharpness in his voice, the way he stared at you with irritation and anger, hurt in ways you couldn't articulate.

You didn’t know how long you had been walking for when you found yourself in the parking lot, your car now looming in front of you like a silent reminder of what had just transpired. You stood there for a moment, your hands trembling as you fumbled to unlock the door. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the chill in your chest felt much worse.

Why was he so angry?

You understood that sometimes people needed space, but you had no idea that your presence, which you expected to bring you closer, would make him feel overwhelmed. The realization hit you hard: He had been letting you to follow him about because he didn't know how to express his need for space. And, in the end, when he exploded, it broke the fragile link you had formed with him.

Your eyes stung with the promise of tears, but you pushed them away. You weren't sure if you were ready to let them fall yet.

You got in the car and drove aimlessly at first, wanting to get away and clear your mind. The drive seemed to go on forever, but you couldn't escape the agony in your chest. You eventually pulled over onto a quiet street and parked. You allowed the silence to settle in, the only sound being the faint hum of your car's engine.

Your phone buzzed, and you looked at it nervously. It was a message from Changbin. Your finger hovered over the screen, unsure whether to open it or not. But the yearning for an explanation, some attempt to make sense of it all, was overwhelming. So you opened it.

Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. Can we please talk?

You bit your lip, your eyes scanning the words over and over. His apology felt sincere, but it didn’t erase the sting of what he had said. How could it? And yet, a part of you still wanted to hear him out, to understand where he was coming from, even if it hurt.

You debated texting him back. Part of you wanted to ignore him, to hold onto the distance you felt was needed right now. Another part wanted to reach out, to explain that you weren’t trying to smother him, that you just wanted to be close.

Instead of responding, you did the one thing you never thought you’d do: you called him.

The phone rang a few times before he answered. “Y/N?” His voice was soft, hesitant, almost nervous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Can we talk?”

A long silence passed. You could hear him take a deep breath on the other end. “Yeah. I think we need to.”

-

Back at the gym, Changbin had barely managed to collect himself before his phone buzzed in his hand. When he saw your name on the screen, he almost couldn’t believe it. He had messed up so badly, and yet, you were still willing to talk to him. His heart beat faster as he swiped to answer, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

“Y/N?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t imagining this.

“I… I’m still upset, Bin,” you said, your voice shaky. “I don’t know what to think. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was invading your space. I just… I wanted to be close to you.”

“I know,” he whispered, guilt flooding his chest. “I should’ve told you sooner. It’s not your fault. I don’t want you to feel like that… like I’m pushing you away. But I just… the gym was the one place where I could just be by myself, clear my head. And when I didn’t have that anymore… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know. I thought… I thought you’d like it. That maybe it would be something we could do together.”

“I do like spending time with you,” he said, his voice steady now, more sincere. “I really do. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking it out on you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m sorry for how I said it. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You’re not a burden to me, Y/N. You’re the last person I want to hurt.”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “I just wanted to be close to you. I didn’t realize I was making you feel suffocated.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I know. And I should’ve communicated better. I just didn’t know how.”

“I understand,” you replied softly. “I just… I need a little time. To process this.”

Changbin’s heart sank, but he understood. “Yeah. I get that. Take the time you need. But please know I’m here. I don’t want to lose you over something that should’ve been a misunderstanding.”

You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t fixed, not yet, but you could feel the tension easing a little, the sharp edges of the pain starting to soften.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “We’ll talk more when I’m ready.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Changbin replied, his voice full of warmth despite the distance between you. “I’ll be here.”

The call ended, leaving a quiet, uneasy space between you two. You were unsure where this would lead or what would happen next. But perhaps, just maybe, you can find your way back together.

hyunjin

The next morning, you woke to a cloud of confusion still hanging over you. Hyunjin's remark from last night, as well as the way he pushed you away, played on an unending loop in your memory. The hurt was still fresh, but you were beginning to wonder why. Why had everything changed so dramatically? Why had Hyunjin, who you had always trusted, suddenly become distant?

You'd barely slept, your mind knotted in a web of despair, confusion, and betrayal. Everything seemed odd as you tried to get through the day. The calm hum of your daily routine had been replaced by a heavy silence in your chest. Your phone remained silent, and you weren't sure if that was a relief or something else entirely. You couldn’t decide whether to hope Hyunjin would reach out to explain himself or whether it was better to just forget it all.

But then, in the late afternoon, your phone buzzed. It was a text from him.

Hyunjin: Can we talk? I need to explain.

Your stomach twisted, both nervous and cautious. You stared at the message, weighing the possibility of opening the door to this conversation. You didn’t know if you were ready to hear whatever he had to say. Still, part of you needed answers, even if they were painful.

After a few moments of hesitation, you typed back.

You: Where?

Hyunjin: Meet me at the park in 30 minutes. Please.

You took a deep breath and, despite everything, found yourself getting ready to meet him. Part of you was angry, but there was another part, the part that still missed him, that needed to understand. You had always believed in the strength of your friendship. You didn’t want to just throw that away without knowing what had really happened.

When you arrived at the park, the air felt cool against your skin, and the trees around you swayed gently in the breeze. The park was quiet, mostly empty, with only a few scattered joggers. You found him near a bench, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his posture tense. He stood as soon as he saw you, but neither of you moved closer at first. There was an awkwardness between you two that felt thick enough to cut.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, your voice almost faltering. "You wanted to talk?"

He nodded but didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there, staring at you as if he wasn’t sure how to start. Finally, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice low and unsure. "I know I hurt you last night, and I—I need you to know that wasn’t my intention. I’ve been… I’ve been a mess, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.”

You furrowed your brows, the confusion growing. “Feelings? What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin seemed to hesitate, as if he was unsure whether to voice the words out. But after a moment, he added, his voice breaking slightly: "I—I like you. More than just a friend. I had for a while, but I wasn't sure how to deal with it. So I tried pushing you away. I figured if I detached myself from you, it would go away. That I could let go of these feelings."

The words struck you like a thunderclap. For a while, you just stood there, your mind spinning, trying to make sense of what he had just revealed. Hyunjin... liked you? Was it why he had been so distant? All the time you'd spent wondering what had changed, what had gone wrong… it was this?

He looked at you, his eyes full of vulnerability, guilt, and something else that you couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I thought… if I pushed you away, I could just forget. But the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got. And last night, I just… I didn’t know how to act around you anymore. So I lashed out. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stood there, silently absorbing his words. The knot in your chest relaxed, but it was replaced by something else: a rush of feelings you couldn't quite describe.

You had no idea how to handle this revelation. You had been wondering what had happened to your friendship, why things seemed so tense, and now it all made sense. But it was overwhelming. You never saw it coming.

"I don't know what to say," you confessed gently. "I did not..." I didn't realize you felt that way. All I saw was you slipping away, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. I didn't realize it was about this."

“I should have told you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I was so afraid of ruining everything, of losing our friendship. But instead, I ended up pushing you away. I thought if I could stop being close to you, I could stop feeling this way. I was wrong."

You felt a mixture of emotions rise up relief, anger, sadness, confusion. But beneath it all, there was something else: you understood now. He had been trying to protect himself, even if it meant hurting you in the process. It didn’t make his actions right, but it made them a little easier to comprehend.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice softer than before.

Hyunjin took a step closer, his gaze intense. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were immediately. I don’t know how to fix this. But I want to try. I want to be honest with you now. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I couldn’t keep pretending anymore. I couldn’t let you think you didn’t matter."

You paused for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you still felt hurt, but another part of you your heart, maybe was softening. You had always cared about him. The idea of more than just friendship… it was a lot to process, but you realized that in some way, you were willing to listen, to figure out what this meant for the two of you.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “But I’m not going to lie and say I don’t care. I do. I care a lot. We just need time. To figure this out.”

Hyunjin nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet hope. “I’ll give you time. I won’t push you. I just needed to say it. To be honest.”

The two of you stood there for a while, neither of you moving, but there was a shift a change in the air. For the first time in weeks, it felt like there might be a way forward. Maybe it wasn’t simple, maybe it wasn’t easy, but at least you had the truth. And that, you realized, was enough to begin again.

HAN

The silence lingered for what seemed like hours, the kind of silence that enveloped you both like a thick cloud. You hadn't moved, still curled on the bed, eyes locked on the wall, as if it might give some answers. You couldn't get the idea that something inside of him had permanently shifted, that whatever had cracked tonight had been building up for a time and was now beyond your control.

Jisung said nothing, did not try to pull you closer, nor did he give his usual soothing words of regret. But he had not left either. His presence next to you, despite its normal comfort, suddenly felt like a distant recollection, a piece of him that had vanished.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard him shift on the bed beside you. His voice was barely a whisper, but you could tell he was struggling, his words thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the weight of the apology, like he had been holding it back for so long it had become a raw, painful thing.

You stayed silent, not sure what to say. He had hurt you, and though you wanted to forgive him, you couldn’t shake the sting of his words. His harshness had cut deeper than anything he’d said before, and you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion of the day, or something more, something that had been building up between you two for a while.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N,” he continued, his voice shaky, as if the apology itself had become difficult to express. “I’m just… I’m just tired. I don’t know how to deal with everything. But that doesn’t excuse how I snapped at you. You don’t deserve that. You never do.”

You eventually allowed yourself to turn towards him, your gaze scanning his face, and you saw the weakness there, the same vulnerability you had always seen beneath his normal confidence. His fists were clasped in his lap, and his shoulders bowed, as if he were bracing for the impending storm.

"You are not a burden, Y/N." "You're not clingy," he continued quietly, his voice much lower now, as if the apology was gradually peeling away the layers of irritation and hurt. "I just.. I'm not always sure how to let you in. I am so overwhelmed that instead of accepting your help, I push you away."

Your heart squeezed. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was battling with himself, trying to figure out how to make it right without knowing how.

“I’ve been so used to dealing with everything on my own,” he continued, looking at the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “I didn’t want to burden you with my problems. I didn’t want you to see me as weak. But instead, I ended up hurting you.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and it took everything in you not to reach out and wrap your arms around him. You knew he had been struggling, you knew it. But hearing him admit that he had been keeping things from you, afraid of showing his true self, only made the ache in your chest grow.

“I don’t think you’re weak,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “I think you're strong. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself, Jisung. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

He shook his head, eventually meeting your eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness, but there was also a quiet desperation in them, as if he didn't know how to mend the rift between you two.

“I just... I'm so sorry. I don't know how to ask for help," he said, his voice full with sorrow. "But when you try to help me, I... I push you away because I'm not sure how to let you in. But you aren't a burden, Y/N. You have never been one. I just didn't know how to handle anything on my own, so I ended up pushing you away when all you wanted was to be there for me."

The honesty in his words was almost too much to bear. You had always known Jisung to be someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, someone who could make light of even the darkest situations. But now, seeing him like this, so raw and open, made your chest tighten.

“I don’t want you to push me away anymore,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to help you. But I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out.”

Jisung's lips twitched, as if he wanted to say more but couldn't find the right words. Instead, he simply nodded, the impact of his quiet screaming loudly. He didn't need to say anything else because you could feel the pain in his chest and all the frustration he'd been carrying around for too long.

For a long time, the two of you merely sat there, your quiet now distinct. It wasn't the crushing stillness of earlier, but one filled with empathy, even if neither of you understood exactly how to mend anything.

After a while, Jisung reached out, his hand hesitating before softly stroking your arm. The warmth of his fingers across your skin brought back memories of how simple things had been between you two. He didn't say anything unnecessary, but you could sense his apology in the way he held his hand there, letting you know he was sincerely sorry.

"I'll try to do better," he answered simply and softly. "I will try to let you in more. I do not want to push you away anymore."

You nodded, your heart still heavy but not as broken as it had been moments ago. “I just want to be there for you, Jisung,” you said softly. “I don’t want you to have to go through everything alone.”

The quiet stretched again, but this time, it felt different. It felt like a beginning. Neither of you knew how to fix everything right away, but you both knew that you wanted to try. And sometimes, that was enough.

Jisung shifted closer, his hand still resting on your arm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so distant from each other. There were still things left unsaid, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to try again.

felix

The hours passed by in agonizing silence, the kind that made everything seem more impossible than it actually was and stretched and clawed at your thoughts. Nothing could take away the icy emptiness that had descended between you and Felix, even as you lay there, wrapped up inside yourself, listening to the gentle buzz of the night.

When the world got too much, he would wrap up with you and reassure you with soft touches and quiet words. You recalled the warmth you had previously enjoyed. Now, it felt like a lifetime ago. His distance was more than just physical; it was something that made your chest hurt since you didn't know how to make it better.

But as much as you wanted to lie there, to let the hurt consume you, you couldn't. You couldn't just wait and wonder if things would somehow improve on their own. You were the kind of person who needed closure, who needed to understand what was happening. And right now, Felix was slipping through your fingers, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

You sat up, wiping at your tear-streaked face, and glanced towards the living room. The faint glow from the TV still flickered through the hallway, casting a cold light on the darkness of the apartment. You could feel the weight of the choice pressing down on you: Should you leave him be, give him the space he seemed to want, or should you push through, confront him, and demand answers?

You hesitated for quite some time. But then you made a decision. You needed answers. You needed to understand why the person you loved had abruptly shifted into someone you didn't recognize. You moved along the hallway, the apartment's silence more oppressive than before.

Felix kept his position on the couch, his eyes looking blankly at the TV, his posture tight and walled off. You stayed there for a moment, studying him, trying to determine whether he noticed your presence.

His eyes didn’t leave the screen. His face remained unreadable.

"Felix," you said again, your voice steady but laced with emotion. This time, there was no hesitation in your tone, no softness. You needed him to hear you.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel the tension in the room shift slightly, as if he knew you were waiting for him to say something. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, quieter than before.

“I told you I don’t want to talk,” he said, almost in a whisper. But this time, the words weren’t as sharp. There was something else in his voice, something you hadn’t heard before. It wasn’t anger, but a deep exhaustion, a weariness that seemed to go beyond just physical fatigue.

You didn’t take a step back this time. Instead, you closed the distance between you, sitting on the arm of the couch, your hand brushing lightly against his. It was small, a gesture that once would have meant nothing, but now it felt like everything. You needed him to know you were still here, that you hadn’t given up.

“Felix,” you repeated, softer this time, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “I know something’s bothering you. And I get it. You don’t have to talk right now, if you’re not ready. But I need to know—am I the problem?”

When you asked the question, his head snapped towards you, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he had never considered it before. For a brief moment, his gaze softened, and you thought you caught a glimpse of the old Felix, the one who used to share everything with you, the one who would always turn to you when the world got too much.

"Of course not," he said gently, his voice husky. He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his palms before running them through his hair. "You aren't the problem. "I just...I’m a mess right now, okay? I did not mean to push you away. I didn't know how to deal with it, and I thought if I could draw back, maybe it would get better.”

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in what felt like days, you understood. Felix had always been the strong one, the person who seemed so capable of handling everything on his own. But now you saw how much he was struggling beneath the surface, how much he had been hiding.

"You don’t have to carry it all alone," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "Felix, we’ve always been a team. You can lean on me. You don’t have to push me away just because you’re having a hard time."

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze flickering to the floor, then back up to you. The tension in his shoulders finally seemed to ease, and he let out a long breath. It was as though a weight was slowly lifting, and for the first time in days, you saw a glimpse of the Felix you had known and loved.

“I’m scared,” he admitted softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m scared of being a burden. I’m scared that if I show you how much I’m struggling, you’ll leave. I’m scared you won’t love me if I’m not always the one who has everything together.”

The rawness of his confession hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you just sat there, your heart aching for him. You had always known Felix to be strong, but in this moment, you realized just how vulnerable he was beneath it all, and how much he had been carrying alone.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me, Felix,” you said, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “I love you, all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”

Felix finally looked at you, his eyes wide, his expression almost disbelieving. The walls that had been built up around him seemed to crack ever so slightly, and you could see the relief in his eyes. He swallowed hard, then reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his grip tightening around your fingers. “I’ve been pushing you away for no reason. I was just so scared.”

You shook your head gently, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, Felix. You don’t have to be scared. We’ll get through this together.”

For a minute, you just stood there, the two of you having an unsaid understanding. There was still a lot to sort out, and the path ahead would be difficult, but you knew that if you were both ready to try, you could do it.

As Felix drew in closer, resting his forehead against yours, you felt the warmth of his presence return, as well as the relief that you hadn't lost him despite everything. Not yet.

And for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe that things could be better.

seungmin

The morning light filtered softly through the kitchen windows, casting a dull glow over the room. Seungmin walked in, a faint sigh escaping his lips as he poured himself a cup of coffee, his mind still half-occupied by the rehearsals and everything waiting for him outside the walls of this apartment. But as he sat down at the breakfast table, he was immediately hit with an unexpected shift in the air.

There was no cheerful greeting from you, no attempt to share a quiet moment together before the day began. Instead, you sat across from him, silently eating your breakfast, your gaze fixed on the plate in front of you. Usually, you’d be making something small, even if it was just a quick toast or coffee, a gesture that made mornings feel connected. But today, the stillness felt suffocating.

Seungmin frowned, the weight of the silence pressing down on him. He didn’t quite understand why you weren’t speaking, but he knew something wasn’t right. He set his cup down, meeting your eyes for the briefest of moments before his voice broke through the quiet.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone a bit strained, not sure if he was even ready to hear the answer.

You did not respond immediately away, keeping your gaze fixed on your food and your jaw tight as if the words you wanted to say were locked between your teeth. But they didn't come, and your silence spoke louder than any argument. Seungmin waited, his patience dwindling as time passed.

Finally, you scoffed, making a little but harsh sound that seemed to cut through the air, and you stood up from the table, pushing your chair back with an audible scrape.

"I don’t know, Seungmin," you shot back, your voice tinged with frustration, barely holding back the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I don’t matter to you."

He blinked, taken aback by the intensity of your words. Before he could respond, you stormed off, the door to the bedroom slamming shut behind you with a force that rattled the still air. Seungmin sat there, the taste of the bitter coffee suddenly unfamiliar in his mouth, his mind spinning. He hadn’t expected this. Not after everything that had happened last night.

The rest of the day felt like a blur. He went through the motions work, meetings, rehearsals but your words lingered in his mind, a constant hum of unease. By the time he returned home that evening, the tension was unbearable. He hesitated by the front door, unsure of what to expect. Normally, he would have found you sitting on the couch, or you would have greeted him with a small smile, asking about his day. But tonight, there was only silence.

He walked into the apartment, his footsteps faltering slightly as he noticed you in the corner of the living room, avoiding his gaze completely. You sat curled up on the couch, eyes fixed on the television but not really seeing anything at all. He stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you, and the hollow feeling in his chest deepened.

"Can we talk?" he asked carefully, his voice laced with concern. His eyes searched yours for any sign that you were ready to listen.

You didn't respond immediately, your body rigid and remote. His heart fell as he saw the look on your face, as if a part of you had closed off, trapped behind a door he couldn't open. "Please," he said, getting closer. "I don't know what's going on, but..." "I can't fix this unless you tell me."

You snapped your head up, your eyes burning with a mix of pain and frustration. Your voice was more emotional than usual. "You don't get it, do you, Seungmin?" You stood up abruptly, raising your voice with each word. "I have tried. I've been trying for days to get you to come see me and realize that something is wrong! But all you have done is brush me off, make me feel like I’m too much for you, like I’m just… clingy."

His eyes widened in realization, the words you had uttered earlier in the morning returning to him with a crushing force. He had no idea it had gotten this bad, nor did he realize how much his words had hurt you until now. And it stung when the weight of his own stupidity fell on him. You carried on, your voice cracking as you talked.

"You've been really distant, Seungmin. And when I try to talk to you or look for your attention, you just push me away. You make me feel as though I am a burden. And I can't keep pretending that I don't feel it.”

Seungmin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He stood there, completely stunned, his chest tightening with regret. He had been so wrapped up in his own stress and exhaustion, so focused on his own battles, that he hadn’t realized how far apart you had grown, how much pain you had been quietly carrying.

He swallowed hard, stepping closer, his voice small now, barely a whisper. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I… I didn’t realize how much my actions were hurting you."

But your anger had already started to bubble back up. You shook your head, arms crossed tightly against your chest. "How could you not realize, Seungmin? How could you not see how much I’m struggling with this? I needed you, but you’ve been so… so cold." You paused, your breath shallow. "I needed you to care. To see me."

The words stung like salt in an open wound, but Seungmin couldn’t deny the truth in them. His heart clenched, and without thinking, he moved toward you, pulling you into his arms before you could step away.

"I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible, or like you were too much. I’ve been so caught up in everything that I forgot to see you, to notice what I was doing to us." He held you tighter, his grip desperate now, like he was trying to hold onto something he feared was slipping away. "Please forgive me. I don’t want to lose you."

Your body trembled against him, but for the first time in what felt like ages, you didn’t pull away. You rested your forehead against his chest, letting out a shaky breath, your emotions swirling but slowly softening under his touch.

"I just need you to be present, Seungmin," you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. "I need to know that you’re here with me. That I matter to you."

"I hear you," he whispered softly, gently touching your face and lifting your head to meet his gaze. His embrace was raw and vulnerable in a way you had not seen before. "I hear you, and I promise to do better." I will make you feel seen. I will make sure you understand how much you mean to me."

You nodded softly, your heart aching but glad for his genuine remarks. The path to healing would take time, but for the first time in a long time, you felt confident that he would accompany you on it.

I.N

The next day, Jeongin arrived at your apartment, his normal bright smile on his face as he walked through the door. It was as if yesterday had never happened. His aura was light and carefree, as if he hadn't just disrupted the peace you had previously enjoyed in your relationship.

You, on the other hand, were still reeling from his cold demeanor the night before. The hurt persisted, and you couldn't shake the weight of his words. Stop being so clingy. It wasn't the first time someone had made you feel small, but it hurt more than you expected, especially coming from him.

You didn't answer as usual, and you didn't greet him with the warmth he had grown to expect. Instead, you kept your distance by giving him short, clipped answers. You preoccupied yourself with little things in the apartment, refusing to make eye contact in the hopes that the stillness would bridge the gap between you. The tension in the room, however, was palpable.

Jeongin didn't seem to notice right away. He went about his usual business, jokingly discussing his day and laughing as if everything was alright. When he reached for your hand, you automatically pushed it away, indicating that something was wrong. His smile faltered, and the warmth in his eyes was gradually replaced by confusion.

"Hey," he said, voice soft, the smile still not fully gone but now laced with a hint of concern. "What's wrong?"

You looked up at him, saw the real confusion in his eyes, and almost let it go. Almost let go of your pain for his smile, for the Jeongin you adored. But the words you'd been keeping in all day sprang to the surface. "What was that yesterday?" You snapped, your voice filled with emotion. The anger, hurt, and confusion you'd been harboring all night had finally bubbled over. "You were an entirely different person. One minute you were fine the next you were pushing me away, telling me I was too clingy. What was that?"

Jeongin blinked, taken aback by your strong tone, his eyes wide as if he had not expected such an outburst. His posture tensed, and for a brief period, you could see the walls he had built to protect himself from whatever discomfort was brewing inside. But that didn't erase the fact that his actions had harmed you more than he knew.

"If you want to act like that, maybe we should just break up," you muttered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, a mix of hurt and frustration in your voice. "I don't want to be with someone who suddenly treats me like I'm a burden just because they're worried about what others think.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jeongin’s expression faltered, his brows furrowing as if the idea of you breaking up was the last thing he expected. His eyes softened slightly, and his voice became almost breathless as he spoke, not quite believing what you’d just said.

“Wait… what?” His voice wavered, the hurt in his eyes clear now. "No, no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

You crossed your arms, feeling the burn of frustration building again. You needed answers. “Then what was it, Jeongin? Why did you act like that? I thought we were fine, but now… now I don’t know where I stand with you.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands running through his hair as he paced for a moment, clearly struggling to find the right words. After a beat of silence, he stopped in front of you, meeting your eyes, this time with a vulnerability that was both unexpected and painfully familiar.

“I… I love you," he began, his voice steady but filled with an edge of fear. "I love you so much, but I was afraid… I was afraid that if we showed too much PDA, the members would tease me relentlessly. They’re always joking about stuff like that, and I didn’t want them to make fun of me, of us."

The explanation hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, stunned. Was this actually the reason? Was he so concerned about what his members thought that he distanced himself from you, his girlfriend, in front of them? You struggled to wrap your head around it.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" The question fell out of your mouth before you could think. The thought of it twisted something inside you, the possibility that he might consider you as something to hide rather than something to be proud of.

Jeongin’s face immediately morphed into one of panic, as if the very suggestion cut him deeper than anything you could have said. “No! God, no. I would never—” He stepped forward, his hands reaching for you, but you instinctively took a small step back. He stopped, his hands falling to his sides, the hurt in his eyes obvious now.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his confession hanging between you two. "I never meant for you to feel like that. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want the members to think I was soft or that I couldn’t keep my cool. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m sorry for pushing you away, for making you feel like I didn’t care about you."

His words were a mix of regret and sincerity, and as he spoke, you could feel the depth of his struggle, the dread of being judged and ridiculed that kept him from completely being himself with you. It wasn't that he didn't love you; it was just that he hadn't understood how to balance his feelings with the demands of his life.

You stood there, silent for a moment, contemplating what he had just said. Your heart was still raw, but you could see remorse in his eyes and feel it in the way he stood, as if he was waiting for you to decide what to do next.

Finally, you spoke, your voice quieter than before, but the hurt remained beneath the surface. "I don't care what others say, Jeongin. I care about us. I want to be able to express my love for you without having to worry about what others might say."

He nodded quickly, his stare focused, and took a slight step toward you. "I promise I won't do it again. I will never make you feel that you are too much, or that I am embarrassed by you. You are more than just someone I care about; you are someone I am proud of. And I will do better. I will."

You held onto his gaze, seeing the honesty in his eyes and sensing the truth in his words. It was not a simple fix. There was work to be done and trust to be rebuilt, but you could tell right away that he was eager to give it his all.

"I just need you to be honest with me," you muttered, feeling the tension between you begin to ease. "That's all I want."

Jeongin's expression softened as he made one final step forward, closing the gap between you. His hands met yours, and his contact was warm and grounded. "I'm here. I'm actually here. And I will make sure you never feel that way again."

//

(❌ proofread)

masterlist.

[thecutestmonkeygirl]

She sighed heavily and nodded. “I think you have too.” She whispered before letting him continue. “Can’t I just make the exception for Bastien?” She chimed in as he finished. “ And only when I’m not around. If it helps he even agreed to it. All I’ve ever asked of you in this regard is to choose me first if I am within reach. I love when you wait for me and are so pent up and needy for just me that you just ravish me for as long as my body can manage, but I’ve never expected you to hold off for me. I’ve assumed you’ve have lovers while I’m away. After all, I do not turn my husband away. Ever. I have him when you and I are apart. “ she pointed out softly. But before he could say anything further she started up again. “I’ve already told Bastien that I won’t share you when I am here for you and he said he understood. And maybe you could just pine for me for..a couple weeks or a month?” She requested rather hesitantly given he had been willing to wait more than that. “But you must still only be mine when I am around and show me off just as much.”

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

[urstruly-ghst]

im pretty strong, see? - octatrio !

in which a you, someone significantly shorter, carries him like a princess!

requested ask !

author's note: strong ! like epel !! (the picture is blurry but shhhh)

azul ashengrotto

you carried him when you were bored. it was an impulse, he assumed you wanted a hug. azul opened his arms but froze when you dipped and swiftly carried him. he screeched. azul always joked that he can easily sweep you away with how short you are compared to his tall stature, a 176 cm tall merfolk, is being carried like a maiden! to add more insult, you twirled him as if he was some doll!

azul flushed red, his hands shaky with how flustered he was at the moment. azul blabbered while you just smiled, carrying him back to his room where he can be composed.

"my beryl... wh-wha?!" azul asked as he was still in shock that your feeble form carried him with ease. he yelped when your simple lift turned into a production of you twirling him around. shrieking was heard, maybe some few laughter too...

"be careful! my glasses?!!!"

jade leech

jade was challenging you with some random quest to fetch something from his room. you glare at the fact he purposely held it out of arms' reach. you picked him up before he can surrender the object out of his good will (which was when he finally had fun). jade yelped and looked shocked.

the way you seem to have no difficulty in carrying him. he was a tall man! you're so feebly small next to him, how are you carrying him with ease as if he was just a feather? jade was even more surprised you twirled him trying to get the object away from him.

"my pearl...?" jade said as you spun him around frantically with laughter. he held tight onto the object as you try to get that object. jade laughed too as he caught on to your scheme.

"you may have caught me off guard, but you must know..." jade smiled manically, "i always know how to gain my footing."

floyd leech

floyd whines about wanting to be "babied." he claims he that he's always the big spoon, always the one doing the saving (odd for him to say when he causes trouble), and always the one who gets carry heavy things. he wants a breaaak! as he whines, you roll your eyes and carried him.

it shocked him as you sigh and just lift him? mind you, you're called shrimpy for a reason! why are you carrying him so nonchalantly? he didn't mind though, floyd gasped and acted his role as princess fairly quick! he pretended to faint and swoon at the fact he was carried, he even demanded you twirl him. if you can carry him, does that mean he can be babied now?!

"hahaha! shrimpy, twirl me again!" floyd laughs amused as you twirled him smiling too, but it was getting tiring. floyd was thoroughly enjoying the once in a lifetime moment to be twirled and be carried so effortlessly.

"ohh, my shrimpy" floyd dramatically whines as you put him down. he pouts and glares at the prospect of his fun being cut short, "don't tell me you're tired! come ooonnn!"

[sloaneispunk]

“once smitten”

frontman!in-ho x you

what if in-ho falls for gi-hun’s sister in the games?

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ༊· ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

“excuse me, i-” in-ho tried to introduce himself.

“ah, you’re so stupid! how could you take an invitation from a stranger?!” gi-hun scolded you as you stood like a little kid before him, head down with your hands behind your back.

“oh, yes, how can we help you?” jung-bae chuckled awkwardly, turning to face in-ho.

“i was just wondering if i could join your team, i saw that-”

“you’re saying that to me?! you came voluntarily too, again!” you shouted back at your brother, cutting in-ho off again as the team tried to de-escalate the situation.

“give me one moment.” jung-bae excused him, pulling you aside, away from gi-hun to calm down.

“i’m sorry.” apologised gi-hun as he turned his attention towards in-ho, looking him up and down once. “i’m gi-hun, that’s my sister y/n.” he said, pointing to you as you slumped onto the ground.

“ah, i must have caught you guys at a bad time.” in-ho sniggered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“no, no. everything’s fine here, you’re welcomed to join us.”

in-ho gave him a grateful smile, walking towards you, brushing skimmed past gi-hun.

“hi, you’re y/n? i’m assuming?”

you nodded, “you had to ask my brother for permission to join?” you jokingly said.

in-ho took a seat on the floor beside you. “what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“gi-hun didn’t come home for a year after his first game. went on like a lunatic about it when he did come home. then, he was gone, next thing i knew i was ‘happily reunited’ with him again here.”

of course in-ho had already knew all that, but it was part of his ruse to get closer to gi-hun.

“but whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway. i can take care of myself, i don’t need him.” you scoffed, arms crossed.

in-ho couldn’t help but grin at the sight, you were sulking in a corner with him, about the one thing that was possibly the least dangerous in the whole game.

“well, looks like i’m gonna be here for a while so, you know where to find me if you need me.” in-ho said, nudging your arm.

you giggled. “thanks, i didn’t catch your name.”

“young-il.”

“young-il…” you tried it on your lips, it sounded right.

“i’ll see you around.” he winked before he got up, walking off to join the rest of the team.

after that interaction, you couldn’t seem to get him off your mind. somehow, someway, it always went back to in-ho. when you and him were apart, you keeping away from gi-hun, you would sneak glances at him. sometimes, he would even already be staring, making you a blushing mess as you tried to cover it up by looking elsewhere.

after the second game of ‘six-legged pentathlon’, you were sat on your bed with the team surrounding you, all eating the food they had given you.

at that point, gi-hun was fuming. you couldn’t deny that you haven’t been pissing him off but who was he to say anything? afterall, he was the one that abandoned you for this stupid game.

“y/n, finish your food.” gi-hun told you sternly when you left the remainders aside.

“i’m not hungry.” you said monotonously, not meeting his eyes.

“you’re not going to have energy to play the next game if you don’t.” he scolded, raising his voice.

“who cares?”

“y/n. finish it now.”

“or what? you’re gonna disappear again? are you gonna leave me again?” you retaliated, sneering when he didn’t reply.

suddenly, he shot up, grabbing you by the collad as he slammed you into the wall. you screamed, but was silenced when your head came into contact with the rough surface.

“enough, gi-hun!” you heared in-ho yell, “put her down!”

then, you were being dropped to the ground. in-ho ran towards you, grabbing a hold of you before you could fall.

“are you okay?” he asked, brushing your hair aside to see your face.

but you couldn’t reply. you could only look at the ground, tears hitting the floor underneath you.

in-ho couldn’t be assed about anything else at that moment, he gently escorted you to the exit which was heavily guarded. without a word, the guards opened the door, letting you and him both leave without question. maybe if he was in the right mind, he would have been more careful about blowing his cover, but luckily for you, he wasn’t.

in-ho walked you to the bathroom, effortlessly lifting you onto the sink. he took a moment looking at your pitiful form, he felt his heart break.

“can you look at me?” he whispered, waiting for permission before he lifting your chin with his fingers. “let me see your pretty face.”

as you locked eyes with him, you could feel the embarrassment bubbling in your stomach. you were so weak, so vulnerable now before him. “young-il…” you managed to choke out.

he didn’t need anything else, he knew exactly what you needed at that moment, leaning forward to pull you into his embrace. the second you had your head on his shoulder, you sobbed. no one, not even you, knew if he was because you were scared, or angry, or hurt, but he was everything you could feel at that moment and nothing else mattered.

a few minutes passed, when you eventually calmed down and pulled away, you let out a laugh. in-ho was confused, did he do something wrong?

“thank you, young-il.” you smiled sadly at the man before you.

internally, he let out a sigh of relief. “are you feeling better?”

you nodded. you lifted your hand, touching the back of your head, causing you to wince in pain. “shit.” you cursed under your breath as you looked at your hand, a small trace on blood left on it.

“c’mere.” in-ho instructed, inspecting your wound. “it’s okay, i think it’s just a graze.”

he helped you clean your wound, taking care of you like you were his own treasured item, each movement acted out with upmost care.

“he’s not always like that.” you broke the silence as he hummed. “i don’t know what this place has turned him into.”

but in-ho didn’t care, you had just given him another reason to carry out his plan against gi-hun.

when the two of you headed back to the room, gi-hun ran to you.

“i think you should leave her alone from now on.” in-ho stepped in when he got too close for his liking.

“but y/n-”

“fuck off.” maybe it was a little more than personal now, but either way, he didn’t like the idea of gi-hun coming close to you again.

that night, you slept with in-ho by your side, you cuddled up to his side as he sat still on the bed, careful not to move. in-ho didn’t sleep for the whole night, he was too busy admiring your sleeping form and savouring the feeling of you cuddled up next to him. it made him wonder if this could be what it could be like outside the games.

maybe the you and him would have an apartment, maybe even a dog. it would be the epitome of a perfect life. everynight after work he would come home to you, being welcomed by your hugs and kisses. he smiled hard even just from the thought of it.

much often, when his thoughts had gotten the better of him, he would place a kiss on your forehead or draw cute little patterns on your arm.

y/n, y/n, y/n, what were you doing to him?