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serapharua · 20 days ago

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HYBRID &TEAM reaction to smelling someone else's scent on you . . !

&team ot9 — GENRE : imagines headcanon suggestiveish fluff hybrid au — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING : they are pretty possessive — REQUESTED : yes <3

notes : btw dw, you as the reader didn't cheat! also minors ones are more sweet and not as extreme as the others :)

K (kangaroo hybrid) :

You were barely through the door when K’s nose twitched. He paused mid-sentence, his usual easygoing demeanor vanishing. His ears perked up, and his sharp gaze pinned you in place.

“Wait.” His voice dropped, the usual playful edge replaced by something darker. “What’s that smell?”

You blinked, confused. “What smell?”

K stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. His nose brushed against the crook of your neck, and his lips pressed together in a tight line.

“I scented you earlier,” he muttered, the possessiveness in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. “But now… there’s someone else’s scent on you.”

He growled softly, a low sound rumbling in his chest, and his tail flicked sharply behind him. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. “Who was it?” he demanded, his voice rough.

You stammered, “It was just a friend—”

“I don’t care who it was,” K interrupted, his forehead pressing against yours. His breath was hot, his touch firm. “You’re mine. No one else gets to leave their scent on you.”

Before you could respond, K’s lips found your neck, brushing over the spot where he had marked you earlier. His hands tightened on your hips as he nuzzled into your skin, the warmth of his breath sending tingles down your spine.

“You’ll smell like me again,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less intense. “Only me.”

FUMA (panda hybrid) :

Fuma greeted you with his usual calm smile when you entered the room, but it faltered the moment you stepped closer. His nose twitched, and his dark eyes narrowed slightly.

“Hey…” he said softly, his voice holding a sharpness you weren’t used to. “Why do you smell like that?”

“Like what?” you asked, setting your bag down.

“Not like me,” he replied bluntly, his gaze dropping to the spot on your shoulder where he’d nuzzled earlier that morning. His expression was calm but unreadable, and that made it even more unsettling.

Before you could answer, Fuma crossed the room in a few strides. His hand cupped your chin gently but firmly, tilting your head up so he could meet your eyes. “You let someone else get too close, didn’t you?”

“It’s not what you think,” you began, but Fuma’s other hand slid to your waist, holding you in place as he leaned in to sniff your neck.

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your ear, “it’s what I know.”

There was no aggression in his touch, just quiet, unyielding resolve. Fuma pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his usual gentle tone laced with possessiveness.

Without waiting for a response, Fuma buried his face into your neck, breathing deeply as if to erase any trace of the foreign scent clinging to your skin. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“You’re not going anywhere until I make sure they know you belong to me,” he whispered, a rare edge to his voice as his lips ghosted over your jawline.

NICHOLAS (doberman hybrid) :

Nicholas was lounging on the couch when you walked into the room, a content smile on his face. His ears perked up at the sound of your footsteps, but the second you got closer, his smile faded, replaced by a sharp furrow of his brow.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up straighter, his nose twitching. “What is that?”

“What’s what?” you asked, confused.

“That smell,” Nicholas muttered, standing up in a flash. His tall frame loomed over you as he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. He sniffed the air, his focus honing in on you like a laser. “Who the hell have you been with?”

“No one—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled, his voice low and guttural as his Doberman instincts kicked in. He took another step closer, his sharp, dark eyes fixed on you, the heat of his presence making your pulse quicken.

Nicholas grabbed your wrist gently but firmly, pulling you toward him. His nose skimmed along your neck, inhaling deeply. The muscle in his jaw tightened as his grip on your wrist softened, but his tone didn’t lose its edge.

“I just scented you this morning,” he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. “And now you’re walking around smelling like someone else? Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

You tried to explain, but Nicholas wasn’t listening. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “You’re mine, and I don’t like sharing.”

His possessiveness wasn’t aggressive, but it was undeniably dominant. Nicholas pressed his forehead against yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity.

“I’ll fix this,” he murmured, his voice softening but still holding that commanding undertone. His hands traced up your sides before tilting your chin up. “Because there’s no way I’m letting anyone think they can have what’s mine.”

Without waiting for a response, Nicholas buried his face into your neck, his nose brushing against your skin as he inhaled deeply again. His lips ghosted over your collarbone as if reclaiming every inch of you.

EJ (sloth bear hybrid) :

EJ was sitting at the dining table, absentmindedly working on a LEGO set when you walked in. His face lit up as he spotted you, but the second you got closer, his expression shifted. His nose twitched subtly, his usual soft gaze sharpening with curiosity—and something darker.

“Wait,” he said, his voice low and calm, but his words carried a weight that made you pause. “What… is that smell?”

“What smell?” you asked innocently, but EJ’s brows furrowed, and he leaned forward in his seat. His sharp senses kicked in, and his sloth-bear-like ears twitched slightly as he focused on you.

He pushed his chair back, standing to his full height, towering over you. His usually relaxed demeanor was replaced by something more intense as he closed the distance between you. “You smell different,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave.

“EJ, it’s probably nothing—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not nothing.” His hand gently grasped your arm, guiding you closer to him. His nose brushed against your shoulder, inhaling deeply. The scent he picked up wasn’t his—it wasn’t his scent lingering on you, the one he’d left earlier that morning when he’d nuzzled into your neck before leaving for the day.

He leaned back slightly, his soft brown eyes darkened with a quiet possessiveness. “I scented you this morning,” he said, his tone still calm but edged with a subtle growl. “And now you’re carrying someone else’s scent? Who?”

His question wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be. There was something commanding in the way he spoke, something firm yet measured, like he was giving you the space to answer but wouldn’t tolerate anything less than the truth.

“I just—bumped into someone, that’s all,” you tried to explain.

EJ’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Bumped into them enough for their scent to linger?” he asked, his tone soft but laced with quiet tension.

His free hand slid to your waist, anchoring you in place as his eyes searched yours. Then, without warning, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His warm breath tickled your skin as his grip on you tightened just slightly.

“That’s better,” he murmured against your skin, his voice tinged with satisfaction. His lips brushed the side of your neck in a fleeting, barely-there touch, almost like he was marking his territory without saying a word.

“You’re mine,” EJ whispered, pulling back to meet your gaze. His eyes softened, but the intensity in them didn’t waver. “Don’t forget that, okay?

YUMA (ermine hybrid) :

moment you stepped into the room. His nose twitched slightly, and his usually laid-back expression hardened. His ears—subtle but unmistakably hybrid—perked up, and his tail flicked in a way that betrayed his sudden agitation.

“Wait,” he called, his tone calm but firm as he stepped toward you. “Come here for a second.”

You tilted your head in confusion but approached him anyway. “What’s wrong?”

His amber gaze narrowed as he leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against your shoulder. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent—one that wasn’t his own.

“What’s this?” he asked quietly, though his voice carried a certain edge. His hand reached out, curling gently around your wrist as he pulled you even closer.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently, though you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks under his intense scrutiny.

Yuma’s lips curved into a slight frown as he tilted his head, his nose now trailing just above your collarbone. “This scent,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, but the tension in it was unmistakable. “It’s not mine.”

Your heart raced as you tried to explain. “I ran into someone earlier—literally bumped into them. It’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?” he interrupted, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. His gaze was sharp, yet there was a flicker of something vulnerable in it. “I scented you this morning. I made sure everyone knew you were mine.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine as his grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you anchored in place. His free hand found its way to your waist, his fingers splaying possessively.

“Yuma,” you began, but he silenced you by leaning in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Let me fix this,” he whispered, his voice softer now but no less commanding. His lips brushed your neck, and he pressed his nose to your skin, inhaling deeply as if to erase any trace of the offending scent.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he let out a small, satisfied hum. “There,” he said, pulling back just enough to smirk at you. “Now you smell like me again.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you muttered, though your cheeks were flushed.

“Maybe,” Yuma admitted with a light chuckle, his usual playful demeanor returning. “But I don’t care. You’re mine, and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.”

JO (arctic fox hybrid) :

Jo’s sharp ears twitched as he caught the faint scent in the air, immediately aware of the subtle change. His gentle smile faltered for just a moment, replaced by a more serious expression as his nose subtly wrinkled. He could smell something… or rather, someone else on you. His usually soft voice took on a slight edge.

“Wait, what’s that scent?”

You paused, sensing the shift in his mood, as his amber eyes focused intently on you. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his posture protective. His tail—white and soft—flicked slightly behind him, an unconscious reflection of his concern.

“I was just at the café earlier,” you explained, trying to brush off the sudden change in atmosphere. “Nothing to worry about.”

Jo didn’t seem convinced. His eyes narrowed slightly as he tilted his head, his nose drifting to your neck where the scent was most prominent. He wasn’t being gentle now; he was focused, trying to figure out what had happened.

“No, it’s not just that.” His voice was calm, though there was a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “I can smell it… someone else.”

The way his gaze held you felt intense, his usual shyness momentarily fading as his instincts kicked in. Jo was fiercely protective of those he cared about, and right now, it was clear that his thoughts were entirely centered on you.

“I don’t like it,” he muttered under his breath, his hand reaching out to lightly touch your arm, a soft touch but firm enough to keep you close. His eyes were searching, as if he was trying to make sure that no one else had dared to mark you, not in the way that he did.

“Jo, it’s not—”

“I know,” he interrupted, stepping even closer, now leaning in to rest his nose against your neck. His breath was warm against your skin as he inhaled deeply, his hands on your shoulders guiding you to stay close to him. “But I can still smell them. It’s not right.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, almost possessive as he pressed his lips gently to the spot where he’d just scented. “I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

You felt a slight pressure as Jo wrapped his arms around you, holding you gently but with a protective finality. His fur was soft against your cheek as he nuzzled closer, his body acting as a shield, his scent now mixing with yours, trying to overpower any trace of the foreign scent.

“I don’t want anyone else to get too close to you,” he murmured, his voice softer now, but still laced with possessiveness. “You’re mine.”

You could feel his presence radiating warmth as he continued to hold you, his possessiveness clearly evident, even as his usual gentle and shy demeanor came back into play. He wasn’t angry, just… protective, in a way that felt both comforting and intimate.

HARUA (bunny hybrid) :

Harua’s soft, twitching ears perked up as he caught the unfamiliar scent on you. His usual sweet and shy demeanor instantly shifted to a more cautious state as his sensitive nose picked up on the change. His large, expressive eyes flickered nervously, looking for any sign of what had caused the shift.

He approached you, his usual calmness replaced by a slight unease. “Did… did someone else get close to you?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he didn’t want to accuse you of anything but couldn’t help but be bothered by the unfamiliar trace.

You could see the way his bunny ears drooped slightly, a clear sign that something was bothering him. His instincts were heightened—after all, as a hybrid, his senses were more attuned to the slightest changes in scent. He wasn’t mad, but there was a vulnerability to him in this moment.

“I don’t know… maybe just some cologne or something?” you offered, trying to brush it off with a smile, but Harua wasn’t convinced. He leaned closer, his nose brushing against your neck as his breath hitched slightly, inhaling deeply to confirm the scent.

His hands gently cupped your face, his grip soft but firm as if to steady himself. His gaze softened a little, though the flicker of possessiveness didn’t completely vanish. “It’s not just cologne, is it?” He wasn’t angry; he was just worried, protective.

Harua stepped closer, his body heat radiating against yours as he instinctively tried to shield you from whatever it was that had disturbed him. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace, his soft bunny ears brushing against your cheek.

“You know… you’re mine, right?” His voice was a quiet whisper, as he nuzzled into your neck, trying to mark you in his own way. He didn’t say it in a commanding tone, but there was a tenderness to it, an unspoken reassurance that he would protect you.

His bunny instincts were clearly in full swing now, the gentle but possessive nature of his hybrid form shining through. He wasn’t upset with you—he just wanted to make sure you were safe, that no one else would dare get too close. The scent had unsettled him, but now, wrapped up in his embrace, you could tell that he was starting to feel more secure.

“I don’t want anyone else getting too close,” he mumbled against your neck, his hands lightly running over your back, as if to reassure himself that you were still his. He was soft, sweet, but also deeply protective of you, and in that moment, Harua wasn’t afraid to let you know just how much he cared.

TAKI (otter hybrid) :

Taki’s attention shifted immediately when he caught the faint scent of someone else lingering around you. His otter instincts were sensitive, and the moment the unfamiliar trace hit the air, his playful energy dimmed into a protective, almost possessive mode. He had scented you earlier, and there was no mistaking that something—someone—else had gotten too close.

He turned toward you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, but there was something deeper there now—a bit of jealousy bubbling under the surface. His brows furrowed slightly, his hands unconsciously flexing as if ready to spring into action.

“You’ve been smelling like someone else…” Taki’s voice was light, but the sharpness in it betrayed the playful teasing he often used to cover up his emotions. He walked closer, sniffing the air around you as his nose twitched with curiosity.

You chuckled, brushing off his suspicion. “It’s just cologne. I was with some friends earlier.” But even as you said it, you could see the doubt in his eyes. Taki wasn’t convinced. He’d scented you earlier and could tell there was something more.

His hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of your hair behind your ear as his gaze lingered on your neck. He inhaled deeply, a slight growl rumbling in his throat. “Not just cologne,” he muttered under his breath.

Taki’s playful, flirty persona took a backseat as his protective side kicked in. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you in close with surprising force, but still gentle enough to be affectionate. “Who was it?” he asked softly, his voice laced with an edge that wasn’t there before.

You could feel his body tense against yours, his fingers lightly gripping your sides as he tightened his hold. His otter instincts were in full play, and though he wasn’t the type to get possessive, the scent of another had caused a stir within him.

Taki pressed his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply again, his warm breath sending a shiver through your body. “I don’t like this,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “I just want to be the one who gets to smell you.” His lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, his words laced with a possessiveness that only someone with his heightened senses could feel.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” His voice was teasing, but there was a serious undertone, a question that only you could answer.

Taki’s playful nature didn’t completely disappear, but it softened in the wake of his jealousy. He wasn’t angry; he was just a bit insecure, unsure of the other presence lingering near you. And in his own way, he was making it clear that he wanted to be the one closest to you.

“I’ll make sure no one else gets too close,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss your cheek, his arms still wrapped protectively around you. His otter instincts had taken over, and he wasn’t backing down.

MAKI (golden retriever hybrid) :

Maki, being the energetic and warm-hearted person that he is, usually wore his emotions openly, but today was different. When he scented you earlier, the sweet, familiar mix of your scent was enough to make him relax. But now, something was off. There was another lingering scent on you, one that hadn’t been there when he first embraced you earlier. His golden retriever instincts immediately picked up on the subtle change, and his mood shifted ever so slightly.

He watched you from across the room, his gaze narrowing just a bit as he picked up on the faint trace of someone else. His golden retriever traits made him loyal and protective, and right now, that loyalty was being tested. He could feel the pull of the new scent even more than usual, and it tugged at his confidence.

Without even realizing it, Maki had crossed the room and was standing in front of you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of what had happened.

“Hey…” he started, his voice soft but serious. “You’ve been around someone else, right?” He tried to sound casual, but his tone was tinted with a hint of concern. He wasn’t angry—no, not Maki—but he wasn’t blind to the fact that someone else’s presence was near you, and it made him feel a little uneasy.

You smiled at him, brushing it off lightly. “Oh, it’s just a friend. They gave me a hug earlier, nothing more.”

Maki’s gaze softened, but the knot of jealousy in his chest didn’t loosen. He stepped closer, his presence soothing but still intense. He lifted his hand, reaching toward you as though to confirm that everything was alright. His fingers grazed your wrist, pulling your arm gently toward him.

“Mmm, I can tell,” he said with a low chuckle, though his voice had a hint of possessiveness. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and then his eyes closed for a moment. His golden retriever instincts reacted to the new mix in the air, and he couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. “I like the way you smell,” he murmured, his hand gently tracing the line of your arm, “but I don’t want anyone else leaving their scent on you.”

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden confession. “Maki…”

He smiled sheepishly, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m not mad or anything, I just… I don’t like it when someone else gets too close to you. I want to be the one who gets all of your attention.”

He then leaned in, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as though he was trying to erase the traces of anyone else. His golden retriever instincts were alive now, and his possessiveness showed, but it was a sweet, affectionate kind of possessiveness. He just wanted to feel secure, to know that you were his and he was yours.

“Mmm, much better,” he muttered softly, his lips brushing your skin. “I want to be the one you smell like all the time. Only me.”

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as if to protect you, but also to make sure no one else could get too close. His scent would mix with yours, and in his mind, that was the best reassurance of all.

“I’ll make sure no one else can leave their mark on you,” he said with a playful grin, pulling you closer to him. “I’m not letting go of you, okay?”

Word count : 3733 | serapharua, 2025.

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000-dotz · 7 months ago

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dotz shop! 🍡‧₊˚ ⋆˙

(sm)ut | (s)uggestive | (f)luff | (a)angst ─── read before requesting! (i do not write smut for maki.)

thoughts

teamies ˚. 𝄞 ᵎ

› &team nsfw thoughts (based off their birth charts) ─── sm

kei ˚.♩ ᵎ

fuma ˚. ♯ ᵎ

nicholas ˚. 𝄫 ᵎ

› eater nicho ─── sm

euijoo ˚. ♫ ᵎ

yuma ˚. ø ᵎ

› marking up yuma ─── s

jo ˚. ♪ ᵎ

› kissing jo's beauty mark ─── f + s

harua ˚. ♮ ᵎ

› touchy harua ─── f + s

taki ˚. ♬ᵎ

› making out with taki ─── s

maki ˚. 𝄢 ᵎ

fics (coming soon)

kei ˚. ♩ ᵎ

fuma ˚. ♯ ᵎ

nicholas ˚. 𝄫 ᵎ

euijoo ˚. ♫ ᵎ

yuma ˚. ø ᵎ

jo ˚. ♪ ᵎ

harua ˚. ♮ ᵎ

taki ˚. ♬ᵎ

maki ˚. 𝄢 ᵎ

#000 dotz⋆˚🍀˖°#dotz masterlist!#&team #&team x reader #&team imagines #k imagines #kei imagines #fuma imagines #nicholas imagines #ej imagines #euijoo imagines #yuma imagines #jo imagines #taki imagines #maki imagines #andteam #&team fluff #&team angst #&team smut

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rizzkisworld · 10 months ago

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College Basketball-Player!Jo Thoughts

College Basketball-Player!Jo who's in the middle of a game. He's looking everywhere for you in the crowd. Were you late? Were you not coming? Well, Jo can't focus on that. His focus needs to be on the game. He plays a decent game. He's got 14 points which isn't bad, but isn't necessarily good, especially since he's pushed as the best on the team. He looks at the crowd one last time, and there you are. A smile paints his face as you both lock eyes. Now it was time for Jo to ball out. He's scoring all his three-pointers and free throws. He's getting assists, rebounds, and steals. He's crossing over anyone who gets in his way. By the end of the game, he got the best-looking stats, and he shoots the winning shot for his team.

College Basketball-Player!Jo who finds you after his games and gives you the biggest hug and a couple of kisses. He doesn't admit it, but he loves the way you hype him up and tells him how impressive his skills are. He can't help but blush at the sweet compliments coming out of your mouth

College Basketball-Player!Jo who invites you to the gymnasium after practice and everyone's gone. Shows off some of his dribbling skills. Making all of his shots. Then suddenly, he passes you the ball. At first, you're like, "What do you want me to do with this?" And then he's like,"Shoot." And so you do. If you make it, he's cheering you on and hyping you up so much. Probably even tries to convince you to join the girls team. If you miss, he's still your biggest hypeman and fan. He'll definitely teach you how to properly handle the ball, one, because he thinks it's cute watching you play, two, he gets a little worried that somehow you'll hurt yourself with the ball(trust me they hurt I got hit in the face with one before- )

College Basketball-Player!Jo lets you wear his jersey. He thinks it's one of the most attractive things ever. You'll catch him staring at you so much. He doesn't know what it is, but the way it looks on you, the fact that it has his name and number on the back just screams, "Mine, Mine, Mine, Mine." I don't really see Jo to be extremely jealous or anything, but he definitely wouldn't be jealous with you having his jersey on and walking around campus. Everyone gets the memo. You're Jo's girl, and he's your boy. (Tempted to write a fic involving things from this section-)

#maya's random thoughts #&team reactions #&team fluff #&team scenarios #&team x reader #&team imagines #andteam x reader #andteam reactions #andteam imagines #andteam scenarios #andteam fluff #Jo fluff #Jo scenarios #jo reactions #jo imagines #jo x reader

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keisgirl · 4 months ago

Note

prompt #7 with Jo

live laugh love jo (this ONE jo edit is so fine like jojojojbarkabrkbarkbark

nervous heartbeats; andteam jo

prompt; #7 "you looked so confident when you were on stage, but you couldn’t even ask me out without stuttering." (idol au maybe?? lolll)

pairing; idol!jo x reader

wc; 0.7k

pls reblog and like if you liked the drabble!

looking for moots <3

cheers,, hannah

kpop drabble masterlist | prompt list #1

you stood by the side of the stage, still buzzing from the excitement of the performance. andteam had just finished, the cheers of the crowd still echoing in your ears. jo had looked so effortless up there—confident, commanding, like the stage was where he truly belonged. it was mesmerizing to watch him move, like he was made for the spotlight.

but now, backstage, the energy was different. jo was fidgeting, his hands playing nervously with the hem of his shirt, eyes darting everywhere but towards you. he seemed so small in a way, despite towering over you. the confident idol from a moment ago was replaced by someone much softer, much quieter.

you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling too much as you looked up at him. “you were amazing out there,” you said, your voice warm, watching as a blush crept up his neck. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you so confident.”

“th-thanks,” he mumbled, still avoiding your eyes, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. this was classic jo—the boy who could command a stage but fell apart the second he was alone with you.

“but you know…” you teased, taking a small step closer, making him look even taller from where you stood. “you looked so confident on stage, but you couldn’t even ask me out without stuttering.”

jo’s eyes widened, his gaze finally snapping to yours. “i… i didn’t stutter that much,” he tried to protest, though the red flush deepened on his cheeks.

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms, the teasing smile never leaving your lips. “you totally did. you could barely look at me,” you giggled, remembering how adorably flustered he had been when he first asked you out.

“you… you make me nervous,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper, his head ducking down slightly as if he was trying to hide. it was such a stark contrast from how bold he seemed on stage, and it made your heart melt.

“i make you nervous?” you asked, tilting your head up to look at him, your smile softening. jo nodded, his lips pressed into a shy line, his eyes glued to the floor. the fact that he could face thousands of fans without batting an eye but get so shy around you was too cute for words.

“why?” you took another small step closer, and now you were standing so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. he glanced down at you briefly, and your heart fluttered at how much taller he seemed up close.

“because… you’re important to me,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere. “i don’t want to mess things up with you.”

your heart did a little flip at his words. reaching up, you placed your hand gently on his arm, and you felt him tense for just a moment before he relaxed under your touch. “you don’t have to be nervous around me, jo,” you said softly, looking up at him. “i like you just the way you are. even when you’re all shy.”

jo’s blush deepened, but this time he met your gaze, his lips twitching into the smallest of smiles. “really?”

“really,” you nodded, grinning. “besides, it was kind of cute when you asked me out all nervous like that.”

he groaned, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment. “please, stop bringing that up…”

you laughed, reaching up on your tiptoes to gently tug his hands away from his face, your smaller fingers barely reaching his. “i thought it was adorable,” you said, your voice light and teasing.

jo’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, and for a moment, that shy expression melted away. he reached out, taking your hand in his, his fingers enveloping yours, and squeezed gently. “i’ll try not to stutter next time,” he said quietly, his voice much steadier now.

“you don’t have to,” you whispered, looking up at him with a soft smile. “i think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

he let out a breathy laugh, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “you make everything sound so easy.”

“because it is,” you grinned, stepping even closer until you could feel the faint brush of his clothes against yours. “as long as it’s you.”

jo’s smile grew, and this time, there wasn’t a hint of shyness in his eyes—just warmth, and something that made your heart feel like it was glowing.

“you’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning down slightly so he was closer to your height, his forehead almost touching yours.

“i could say the same about you,” you whispered back, your heart racing as you stood there, hand in hand, feeling like the rest of the world had faded away.

#keisgirl 🌷#keisgirl requests #andteam imagines #andteam fluff #jo fluff #jo imagines #asakura jo #ej imagines #maki imagines #taki fluff #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #fuma imagines #nicholas imagines #yuma fluff #k imagines

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2myl0ver · 1 year ago

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him with a cuddly s/o ☆ asakura jo

Genre ⋅ fluff/headcanons Wordcount ⋅ 325 TW ⋅ none Masterlist ⋅ here

Request ⋅ hi!! can i request bf!io with a super cuddly s/o pls? like theyre always latched onto him and are so snuggly and soft :( thx

Author’s note ⋅ helloo! I didn't really know if you wanted a fic or headcanons so I just did headcanons, but if you wanted a fic just send me another rq and I'll redo it! ♡︎

- In the beginning of your relationship, he'd be having a hard time getting used to it.

- at first he doesn't hate it but doesn't love it either but just let's you and just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ ...

- once he gets used to it, he absolutely lovess it!! doesn't full on give you the same energy but he's just really smiley and hugs you back.

- doesn't mind when you're always beside him, loves the company and actually gets used to not being alone all the time

- one day he comes home exhausted from practice and he plops onto the bed beside you, giving you a bigg hug. this takes you by surprise because he has never initiated physical touch before this.

- you just lean into the hug and try to comfort him as much as you can without saying a word, he's been more open to physical touch ever since :(

- you always hold his hand and by this point he's comfortable with it, when he notices you're not holding his hand when you're together he holds yours.

- no mater how long you're together, he never stops getting flustered when you hug him from the back or randomly cling onto him

- one time, he was in the kitchen washing his hands and you started hugging him from behind without saying a word.. he turned into a tomato.

- the members are confused tbh, they don't know how you broke/glitched him into becoming as clingy as you.. he doesn't even let them come up from behind him

- cuddles in bed are the absolute best with him, he uses all of the hugs he has gathered up by not using them over the years when you cuddle in bed

- likes giving you his hoodies when you do this, but sprays your perfume on it so he can smell your scent when he cuddles into you <3

#&team #&audition #andaudition #jo #&team imagines #&team jo #jo &audition #andaudition jo #&team scenarios #andteam #andteam reactions #asakura jo #jo asakura #jo &team #&team asakura jo #&team jo asakura #jo imagines #jo scenarios

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byeuijoo · 1 year ago

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what is love? 𐀔 asakura jo

genre : pure fluff ⋆ warnings : absolutely none ⋆ wc : 0,8k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ୨ ✩ ୧

« what is love? » he asked you quietly, his face bathed in the moonlight passing through your window. jo was currently slumped against your mattress, his ebony hair spread carelessly on your pillow while you were lying next to him, belly against the bed, chin resting against the palm of your hand. a smile took place on your lips at the sound of his question, his soft voice destabilizing the quiet silence that had previously occupied the room.

pretending to think, without your eyes ever leaving his, your index finger pressed against his pale skin, tracing the curve of his jaw to his chin with your fingertip. « love is.. » you began to say, the sound of your voice echoing in his head like the most bewitching of melodies, « love is your voice. »

he didn't seem to understand, looking for the slightest innuendo in your words to find any clue as to the meaning of your sentence. but jo didn't have time to think as you spoke again, « just hearing your voice can give me butterflies in the stomach. » — you wanted to explain things as you felt them, so you continued your confession, bringing your index finger up to trace the outline of his eyes delicately.

« love is your eyes, » you declared, as he watched you with as much adoration as possible, and this simple little thing caused your heart to miss a beat, « the way you look at things is unique, the gleam in your eyes always makes me feel like i'm even more precious than the biggest diamond. »

jo could swear he'd never enjoyed listening to someone talk so much. he loved that little crackle in your low voice, the way words roll off your tongue like poetry. you were like a sweet dream he didn't want to wake up from. it's thanks to the way you talk that he started to take an interest in you — your voice was the sweetest and most captivating among the whole class. he watched you change position : your right hand previously scattered over his face, now resting against his chest. for the left hand, you moved it delicately so that your fingers intertwined with jo's, suddenly stopping his delicate caresses on your cheek.

« love is your hands, » you resumed, pulling his hand to your lips to place a warm kiss against its back, « when they touch or intertwine with mine, a gentle warmth can't help but permeate my whole being. they are reassuring and comforting, like the ultimate cuddle you need during hard times. »

jo didn't know how you made him love you even more than he already did. nor did he know how his heart managed to beat so fast in his chest. much less how you could refrain from commenting on his flushed cheeks.

« and finally, love is your lips. » you continued, in the most sincere voice in the world, bringing your hand up until your fingers lightly brushed his lower lip. your smile was even sweeter, your eyes filled with stars, and you breathed joy, which filled him with happiness. « jo, every time you smile.. oh gosh, i swear the ground caves in on me. i've never felt my heart race so fast. » you explained, and he could hear your smile in your words. you were so pretty, you were the prettiest in his eyes. no one had ever shake him up as much as you — and he wouldn't lose the love that bound you together for anything in the world.

« love is you, asakura jo, » you end up saying, your voice growing weaker, as if you were sharing the most confidential of secrets with him, « your whole being makes me discover a little more every day what love means. »

unlike you, jo wasn't good with words. but instead of talking, he could act, even if it took him all the courage in the world to do so. then, after a moment's thought, the boy sat up, his warm hands caressing your face in the most delicate of ways. it was as if your cheeks were caught between two cotton fields, and in front of you, the most radiant, comforting and warmest of summer suns appeared. his smile filled the light that was missing from your night, shaking your whole being, giving your heart uncontrollable palpitations. you knew jo was the answer to all your questions about love — and this was confirmed once again when he placed the most unforgettable kiss on your lips.

« i love you, » he murmured against your mouth just as your fingers grasped his sweatshirt, « i love you more than words can ever describe. »

and he was right : because no words could describe the love you meant to each other.

⠀

reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated !

taglist ౨ৎ @wtfhyuck @yuma-is-mine

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keikeu · 2 years ago

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(yn's) food lover :: asakura jo

pairing :: nonidol! asakura jo x gn! reader

genre :: established relationship, smau, fluff

warnings :: mentions of food

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a/n :: cutie patootie food loving jo!! ik he'd love to have a partner who can cook him his fav dishes since he doesn't know how to (and if you don't know how to cook either... pretend you do just for this😸)

©keikeu

#&team #andteam #&team fluff #&team imagines #&team scenarios #&team smau #&team x reader #&team jo #asakura jo #jo fluff #jo imagines #jo x reader

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kaiijo · 6 months ago

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HOT THINGS HE DOES — [WIND BREAKER]

characters: sakura haruka, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, togame jo content: gn! reader, reader has smaller hands than hiragi notes: i love them, your honor

sakura haruka ✶

runs his hand through his hair. sakura doesn’t know why you watch him so intently when he cards his fingers through his hair. in his mind, he’s just trying to get his bangs out of his face but to you, he looks so effortlessly cool

he’ll definitely get flustered if you voice your thoughts to him while giving him a long once-over. he definitely starts blushing and stuttering and looking anywhere but your eyes with crossed arms. he’s actually short circuiting and you take the opportunity to run your own hand through his hair, feeling the smooth flow of his locks between fingers.

nirei akihiko ✶

very perceptive of your needs. it’s like he can read your mind. you need a bottle of water? nirei’s already handing it to you. you want a sweet treat? nirei’s already bought it from your favorite bakery. you wanted to get a limited-edition keychain but they ran out at the store? don’t worry — nirei’s already bought matching ones for you

there’s something about how in-tune he is with you that has your face warming and a smile breaking across your face. you’re just as in-tune with him and his needs as he is with yours

suo hayato ✶

always smells good. suo takes care of himself and has a nice natural scent, but when he wears his favorite cologne, he smells nice and clean and good. it makes your heart jump when you catch the notes of his cologne and you like to bury your face in his neck when he wears it (and maybe kiss his neck a little too)

his cologne also lingers on many items of clothing — shirts, sweaters, coats — which results in you stealing a bunch of his things so that you can keep his scent around you when he’s not with you

kiryu mitsuki ✶

hand on the back. kiryu guides you around with a hand on your back, making sure that you are with him and comfortable and safe. it makes your heart skip a beat when he places a hand on your lower back, his palm warm even through your clothes

you especially love when you’re on a romantic dinner date and his hand in on your lower back as he leads you to your table, still holding you as he slides your chair out. you can’t stop the little giggle that bubbles in the back of your throat

umemiya hajime ✶

gardening shirtless. there are two parts to this — one, you love that umemiya gardens and how attentive he is to his plants; two, you love when he does it shirtless. umemiya looks like he was carved by the gods and it’s always hot to watch him pull weeds, water the plants, and hum to them the sun’s making his bare skin glow

you also like when he stands up to wipe sweat off his brow and you get to see the way the sweat glistens on his skin. it makes you contemplate dragging him away from his gardening for some personal time

hiragi toma ✶

comparing hand sizes. hiragi hands are so big and nimble and you especially love how big they are compared to yours. he doesn’t understand your obsession with grabbing his hand and pressing your palm against his

he indulges you whenever you ask him to compare hand sizes, fingers curling over the tips of yours. you know that his hand is bigger than yours but it makes your light-headed to see the real thing

kaji ren ✶

stands up for you. kaji is the one to advocate for you when you won’t do it yourself and there nothing you find more appealing. there’s something so attractive about him when he tells your waiter that you didn’t order a certain item or something else like this. he’s not mean or aggressive, simply direct and firm when he does so

it makes you feel cared for and that someone is looking out for you. kaji also holds steady eye contact when he makes his request and there’s a steel to his gaze that sets your face aflame

togame jo ✶

casual lean against the doorframe. but not just any door frame lean; togame does the book boyfriend lean, with a forearm braced against the doorframe and him slanting toward you to best listen to whatever you’re saying. he so attentive and confident when he does that you can’t help the way your heart skips a beat and your eyes involuntarily flutter when you meet his eyes.

he also knows the effect this has on you so sometimes he’ll cage you in between the wall and his body, one arm above your head. he gives you a small lazy smirk and it has you pulling him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 4 months ago

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The Sweet Defender

Word count: 1.5k

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: A quiet and shy Y/n, Max Verstappen's sweet-natured girlfriend, surprises everyone by fiercely defending him against his father's harsh criticism, revealing her hidden strength and deep love for Max.

________________________________________________________

You were sweet in a way that made people soften around you. There was a kindness in the way you carried yourself, from the way you greeted everyone in the garage with a small, warm smile to how you always remembered little details about their lives. You made people feel seen, even if you rarely said much.

The mechanics would tease Max about how lucky he was to have such a sweet girlfriend. “Max, how did someone like you end up with her?” they’d joke. And Max would grin, ruffling your hair playfully before pulling you into a side hug. He always said you were his calm amidst the storm, the one person who could make him feel grounded, no matter what was happening around him.

You blushed easily—whether from Max’s teasing, a compliment from someone in the paddock, or even just catching him looking at you from across the garage. You didn’t like drawing attention to yourself, preferring to be the quiet presence in Max’s life, always supporting him from the shadows.

In the world of Formula 1, where everything was fast-paced, high-stakes, and often brutally competitive, you were a breath of fresh air. You didn’t come to the races to be seen or to be part of the glamorous world of motorsport. You were there because Max was there, and you cared deeply about him.

Your shyness was something everyone respected, never pushing you to speak up or step out of your comfort zone. It wasn’t that you didn’t have opinions or thoughts—you just preferred to keep them to yourself unless you felt it was necessary to say something. You always felt more comfortable observing, being the one who listened rather than the one who spoke.

But despite your quiet nature, everyone knew there was something strong about you. It was in the way you cared for people, the way you never hesitated to step in if someone needed help, and the way you looked at Max with such unconditional love. You had a soft heart, and that made you special.

Max would often call you his "sweet soul," a term of endearment he used whenever he saw you doing something that reminded him of your kind nature—whether it was making sure the team had enough water during a hot race weekend or asking how someone’s family was doing after a long absence. He admired your gentle spirit, always saying that you made his world feel less chaotic.

Everyone in the paddock adored you, seeing you as this quiet, sweet girl who somehow balanced Max's fiery personality with her calm and soothing presence. You had this unassuming beauty that radiated from the inside out, your kindness making people feel at ease around you. You were cute in the way you nervously tucked your hair behind your ear when someone addressed you directly, or how your cheeks flushed when Max wrapped an arm around you during post-race interviews, never comfortable being in the spotlight.

But today, something had changed.

The paddock was loud and chaotic, as it always was on race weekends, but today the tension was unbearable. Max was storming through the Red Bull garage, his face flushed with anger, frustration pouring out of him with every word.

“They didn’t set the car up right. It’s not even close to drivable!” Max’s voice cut through the air, sharp with disappointment. “How am I supposed to compete like this?”

You stood a little distance away, your hands clasped nervously in front of you, watching him pace back and forth. You hated seeing him like this—his frustration rolling off him in waves, but you knew better than to interrupt him when he was this wound up. Besides, you were never the type to speak up in these situations, even if your heart ached for him.

Then, Jos arrived.

As soon as Jos stepped into the garage, you could feel the atmosphere shift. Max’s body tensed, and you knew this wouldn’t end well. Jos walked straight up to him, not bothering with pleasantries, his voice already raised.

“You’re not good enough today, Max,” Jos said coldly. “You call that driving? You let everyone down out there. Again.”

Your heart clenched at Jos’s words. Max, already on edge from the race, stood frozen, his eyes cast down, taking the verbal onslaught in silence. He didn’t argue back, didn’t defend himself—just stood there, his father’s criticisms raining down on him.

“You used to be better than this,” Jos continued, his voice hard. “Maybe you’re getting too comfortable. Maybe you don’t have what it takes anymore. You think people care about your excuses? No, they care about results.”

It was too much.

Your hands started shaking, the pressure building inside you as you watched Max’s face. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be treated like this by his own father, the man who was supposed to support him, not tear him down. And as you stood there, something snapped inside you.

“No!” you shouted, your voice loud enough to startle even yourself. You felt the eyes of the entire garage turn to you, stunned by the sudden outburst from someone who was always so quiet. But you didn’t care anymore.

“Stop it!” you yelled at Jos, your voice trembling but firm. “You don’t get to talk to him like that! You’re not a good father. You never were.”

Jos turned toward you, his expression one of shock and disbelief. No one ever spoke to Jos Verstappen like that. Especially not you.

“You push him and push him, but have you ever once thought about how much you’re hurting him?!” you continued, the words pouring out before you could stop yourself. “Do you even care about him, or is it just about the wins to you? About your ego? Max is incredible—he’s kind and patient, and he doesn’t deserve to be yelled at because things didn’t go perfectly today!”

The entire garage fell silent. Even the mechanics stopped what they were doing, their eyes darting between you, Max, and Jos.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but you couldn’t stop now. “You’ve spent years breaking him down, telling him he’s not good enough, and I don’t know how, but despite everything, Max is still a good person. A better person than you ever were to him.”

Jos’s face twisted with anger, but before he could say anything, Max stepped forward, placing himself between you and his father. His hand reached for yours, squeezing it gently, grounding you.

“She’s right,” Max said quietly, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “You’ve pushed me my entire life, and I’ve never said anything, but… it’s enough now, Dad. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m not going to let you tear me down like this.”

You could see the emotion in Max’s eyes, the weight of everything he had been holding in for so long finally bubbling to the surface. He wasn’t yelling, wasn’t angry—he was calm, but there was an undeniable finality in his voice.

Jos looked taken aback for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He opened his mouth as if to argue but then closed it again, seemingly realizing there was nothing he could say.

For the first time since you’d known him, Jos Verstappen was speechless.

Max turned toward you, his eyes softening as he met your gaze. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the buzz of the paddock.

You nodded, your chest tight with emotion. You could feel the weight of everyone’s stares on you, but at that moment, all that mattered was Max. The anger that had driven you to speak had faded, replaced by a deep sadness for all that Max had endured. You reached up to touch his cheek gently, your thumb brushing over his skin.

“I couldn’t just stand by and watch him hurt you like that,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with the remnants of your outburst. “You don’t deserve any of it.”

Max pulled you into a soft embrace, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly easing away. For a moment, everything else faded—the race, the disappointment, the frustration. It was just the two of you, holding each other in the middle of the chaos.

“I’ve got you,” you murmured, your cheek resting against his chest. “Always.”

Max’s hand tightened on your back, his breathing finally evening out as he held you close. And despite everything, despite the chaos and the tension, in that moment, you knew that nothing else mattered as long as you were together.

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mrsfancyferrari · 3 months ago

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Need Saving

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

Song: Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Author’s note: CW: sexist comments, domestic violence (not from Max). I'm still salty about Daniel Ricciardo's exit to Formula 1 so I decided to add him a little here. THIS WILL BE A SERIES AND THANK YOU FOR THE 500 FOLLOWERS! Please like, reblog and share this! <3 ALSO IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Word count: 10.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

You are making history as the first woman to compete in Formula 1 with the Red Bull team, stepping in for Sergio Perez.

This groundbreaking achievement not only highlights your talent but also paves the way for future generations of female racers in a sport traditionally dominated by men.

Your personality shines through with a warm and friendly demeanor that makes you incredibly approachable. Colleagues and fans alike find you likable, creating an inviting atmosphere wherever you go.

This charm not only endears you to those around you but also helps foster a supportive environment within the competitive world of racing

Some have affectionately dubbed you the "Mini Honey Badger," a nod to the legendary Daniel Ricciardo. This playful comparison reflects your fierce determination and tenacity on the track, qualities that resonate with fans and fellow racers.

Your unique blend of charisma and competitive spirit is sure to leave a lasting impression in the world of Formula 1.

Luckily, you found yourself paired with one of the most talented drivers in the sport, Max Verstappen.

From the very beginning, you and Max clicked effortlessly, perhaps due to your shared sense of humor or the lighthearted way you both approached life outside of racing.

Max, known for his fierce competitiveness on the track, also had a playful side that drew you in. Whether it was sharing funny anecdotes from your childhood or engaging in friendly banter about each other's driving styles, the connection felt natural and invigorating.

You both understood the pressures of the sport, yet you managed to find joy in the little moments, whether it was a shared laugh over a silly meme or a light-hearted debate about the best racing video games.

This bond not only made your time together enjoyable but also fostered a sense of trust and teamwork that would prove invaluable as the season progressed.

During your initial week in Formula 1, the team was treated to a mix of corny jokes and uproarious laughter, creating an atmosphere that was both fun and relaxed.

It was clear that the camaraderie between you two was something special, and it didn’t take long for everyone to notice. The garage, usually filled with the tension of competition, transformed into a space of joy and lightheartedness.

You and Max would often engage in playful challenges, like who could come up with the worst dad joke or who could impersonate the team’s engineers the best.

These moments not only broke the ice but also helped to build a strong team spirit.

The mechanics and engineers, who often worked long hours under pressure, found themselves smiling more often, and the overall morale of the team improved.

It was as if your infectious energy had a ripple effect, reminding everyone that while racing was serious business, it was also about passion, fun, and the love of the sport.

Christian Horner, the team principal, seemed to recognize this chemistry right away.

He confidently remarked to the media about the dynamic of having a girl and a boy on the same team, suggesting that he had a good feeling about the partnership.

His words resonated with the fans and the media alike, sparking conversations about the evolving landscape of motorsport and the importance of diversity within the sport. It was evident that the two of you were destined to make waves together on and off the track.

Christian’s faith in your partnership only fueled your determination to succeed.

You both knew that the expectations were high, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you embraced the challenge.

"Joseph, can you give me an update on the gap behind?" you inquired, your voice steady as it crackled through the radio to your race engineer.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of the high stakes at play.

"You're looking at a 5-second lead over Norris, Y/N," Joseph Duke responded, his tone calm and focused.

As you navigated the track, the adrenaline surged through your veins, heightening your senses.

The smell of burning rubber and the roar of engines filled the air, but your focus remained solely on the asphalt ahead.

Max was currently leading the race, and you were right on his tail, just a heartbeat away from making a decisive move.

With the world championship points on the line, every second counted, and the team’s strategy was crucial.

"Copy that, Joseph. I’m feeling good about this pace. Should I push to overtake Max?" you asked, weighing your options.

The tension in the air was palpable, and you could almost hear the roar of the crowd in your mind, their cheers and gasps fueling your determination.

You could picture the fans waving flags, the excitement building as the race unfolded.

"Remember, he’s leading the championship, so those points are vital for him," Joseph reminded you, his voice steady and measured.

You took a deep breath, considering the risks and rewards of your next move. The thought of overtaking Max was tantalizing, but the consequences of a miscalculation loomed large.

"Understood. But if I don’t make a move soon, he might pull away," you replied, your mind racing through the possibilities.

You could see the track ahead, the curves and straightaways that could either make or break your race.

"Just keep your head in the game, Y/N. Focus on your lines and stay patient. The opportunity will come," Joseph advised, his experience guiding you through the chaos.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, reminding yourself that patience was key.

As you approached the next turn, you felt the car respond to your every command, the tires gripping the asphalt with precision.

You could see Max’s car just ahead, a flash of blue and white, and the urge to push harder surged within you.

"Alright, I’ll hold back for now, but I’m ready when the moment strikes," you said, determination lacing your words.

The opportunity to seize the grand prix had slipped through your fingers, leaving you with a bittersweet taste of second place as Max celebrated his victory.

It wasn’t that you felt anger towards him; after all, the stakes were high, and the competition was fierce.

You had performed admirably, even outshining Checo this season, and Red Bull was finally back to their P1-P2 glory.

As you stepped out of your car, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you spotted Max waiting for you, his helmet off and a look of concern etched on his face.

He rushed over, his expression serious as he enveloped you in a quick hug. “You don’t hate me, do you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected question. Removing your helmet, you met his gaze with a warm smile. “Of course not! But don’t think I’ll go easy on you next week,” you replied playfully, your competitive spirit igniting once more.

Max’s face lit up with a genuine smile, the tension dissipating. “Mate, I won’t go down that easy!” he shot back, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of rivalry.

As you made your way to celebrate with the team, you noticed the difference in how they treated you compared to Max. While he was hoisted into the air, receiving enthusiastic cheers and bone-crushing hugs, you felt a more cautious approach directed your way.

It was a subtle reminder of the gender dynamics at play in the sport. You brushed it off, focusing instead on the camaraderie and the shared passion that brought you all together.

The post-race atmosphere was electric, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional shout of joy.

You joined in the celebrations, clapping your hands and cheering for your teammates, but a part of you remained introspective.

You replayed the race in your mind, analyzing every corner, every overtaking maneuver, and every missed opportunity.

The thrill of competition was intoxicating, but so was the desire to prove yourself, not just to the team but to the world.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself lingering at the periphery of the lively celebration, your gaze fixed on Max as he reveled in the spotlight of his victory.

He was the star of the night, the one everyone clamored to congratulate, while you stood in the shadows, merely the second driver.

Christian approached, giving your shoulder a friendly pat, a gesture of appreciation for your support. Yet, it felt insufficient.

You masked your feelings with a bright smile as you watched Max raise his glass, laughter spilling from his lips as the clock inched toward midnight.

“Goodnight, Max,” you called out, aware that your boyfriend, Jake would be less than pleased if you lingered too long.

“Goodnight, best friend! Did I mention you look lovely tonight?” Max replied, his words slightly slurred as he pulled you into a warm embrace.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No, you didn’t! Thank you, Max. You look great too!” you managed to say, your heart fluttering at the compliment.

As the night wore on, you exchanged goodbyes with the others, the atmosphere buzzing with joy and celebration.

You decided it was time to head home, opting for a taxi since you had indulged in a few drinks earlier.

Once inside the cab, you leaned back against the seat, reflecting on the evening. The laughter, the cheers, and the way Max had shone like a beacon of success.

It was hard not to feel a twinge of envy, but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself of the bond you shared.

The driver navigated through the city streets, and you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the photos from the night.

There was Max, grinning ear to ear, surrounded by friends, and there you were, a supportive figure in the background.

Just as the car turned, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you glanced down to see a message from Jake.

“Where are you?” he texted, the words appearing on your screen like a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting for you at home.

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection as you typed back, “Just left the party! On my way home now. Can’t wait to see you!”

The taxi weaved through the city streets, and you could almost picture him waiting for you, perhaps pacing a little, his brow furrowed in that adorable way he did when he was worried.

You could hear his voice in your head, teasing you about how you always took too long to say goodbye, but you knew he loved it just as much as you did.

As the taxi pulled up to your building, you felt a flutter of excitement. You paid the driver and hurried inside, your heart racing with anticipation.

As you stepped into the apartment, a heavy scent of alcohol hit you like a wave, and your heart sank.

The cheerful anticipation you had felt moments before evaporated, replaced by a knot of anxiety in your stomach. You knew Jake had been struggling lately, and the telltale signs of his mood were all around you.

Empty bottles cluttered the coffee table, their labels peeling and faded, remnants of nights spent drowning sorrows that seemed to multiply with each passing day.

Taking a deep breath, you cautiously made your way further inside, hoping to find a glimmer of the warmth you once cherished, a flicker of the love that had once filled this space.

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” you called out, trying to inject some cheer into the atmosphere, but your voice felt small and fragile against the oppressive silence that enveloped the room.

The silence that followed was deafening, and you could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

Just then, he emerged from the shadows of the living room, his eyes glassy and unfocused, as if he were peering through a fog that had settled deep within him.

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, each word laced with bitterness. “Did you have fun pretending to be normal out there?”

You felt a chill run down your spine as he continued, hurling insults that cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

It was as if he was trying to push you away, to create a chasm between you that felt insurmountable.

And yet, amidst the hurt, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man you loved, the one who was lost beneath layers of pain and anger.

“Why do you always have to do this?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, the vulnerability in your tone betraying the strength you wished to project. “I just want to help you.”

He scoffed, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand, the gesture almost theatrical in its disdain. “Help? You mean control. You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything? You’re just like everyone else, trying to tell me what to do.”

The words stung, and you felt the weight of his accusations pressing down on you, each syllable a reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

“I’m not trying to control you,” you replied softly, “I just want to be there for you. Can’t we talk about this?”

But as you looked into his eyes, you realized that the man you once knew was slipping further away, lost in a haze of his own making.

His gaze, once so full of life and passion, now seemed clouded, distant. It was as if he was peering through a murky window, unable or unwilling to see the vibrant world outside.

You could see the shadows of his struggles etched on his face, the lines of worry and anger deepening with each passing day. It pained you to witness this transformation, to see the light in him dimmed by his own fears and insecurities.

“Why can’t you see that I’m trying to help?” you pressed, your heart racing as desperation crept into your voice. “I’m not your enemy. I want to understand what you’re going through.”

You took a tentative step closer, hoping to bridge the gap that felt insurmountable.

But he recoiled slightly, as if your words were a physical blow, and the distance between you felt more pronounced than ever.

“Understand?” he scoffed, his tone laced with bitterness. “You think you can just waltz in and understand? You have no idea what it’s like to feel trapped, to have every choice taken from you. You don’t know the weight of this burden.”

His voice cracked, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the bravado.

As soon as you opened your mouth to speak, Jake brushed by you, grabbing his coat and shoes in one swift motion.

"I'm heading out for a walk. Don't even think about following me," he snapped, his words laced with the sting of alcohol.

You simply nodded, feeling a mix of concern and frustration, but you stayed rooted in place until you heard the door slam shut behind him.

With the sound echoing in the silence, you finally exhaled, the tension in your chest easing just a bit. You glanced around the room, the remnants of the night scattered everywhere—empty bottles and crumpled napkins littered the floor.

"Guess it's cleanup time," you muttered to yourself, bending down to gather the bottles. As you worked, your mind raced with thoughts of him.

Just then, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from your best friend, Sarah.

"Hey! How's everything? You okay?"

You sighed, typing back quickly. "Not great. He just stormed out after a fight. I’m cleaning up the mess now."

A moment later, your phone chimed again. "Want me to come over? I can help."

You hesitated, glancing at the door. "No, it’s fine. I just need to sort things out."

"Are you sure? You shouldn’t be alone right now."

You paused, considering her words. "I’ll be okay. I just need to think."

As you continued to tidy up, you replayed the argument in your mind. It had started over something trivial, but the alcohol had turned it into a full-blown fight.

You could hear his voice in your head, the way he had raised his tone, the way he had dismissed your feelings.

"Why does he always do this?" you whispered to yourself, frustration bubbling up again.

You were well aware that he wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.

After tidying up the house, you decided to treat yourself to a long, relaxing bath.

The warm water enveloped you, washing away the day’s worries. Once you felt refreshed, you slipped into your favorite pajamas and crawled into bed, the soft sheets providing a comforting embrace.

He hadn’t always been this way—filled with anger and lost in the depths of alcoholism.

You both had shared a beautiful love story, starting as high school sweethearts. You could still remember the way he used to look at you, his eyes sparkling with affection, mirroring the love you felt for him.

As you lay there, memories flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter, the late-night talks, and the dreams you had built together. But now, those dreams felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the weight of his struggles.

Maybe it was the pressure of work that was taking a toll on him. You thought back to the last time you had a heart-to-heart.

“Do you remember when we used to talk about our future?” you had asked him one evening, the two of you sitting on the porch, the sun setting in a blaze of colors.

He had sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I remember. It feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Things can get better, you know. We can work through this together,” you had urged, your heart aching for the man you once knew.

He had looked away, his expression clouded. “I don’t know if I can. Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to swim anymore.”

You had reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between you grew. The man you loved was slipping away, replaced by someone you barely recognized.

Now, lying in bed, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find his way back to you. Would he remember the love you once shared? Would he fight against the demons that haunted him?

With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes, hoping that tomorrow would bring a glimmer of hope, a sign that the man you loved was still inside, waiting to break free.

As you settled into bed, the glow of your phone screen illuminated the dark room, revealing a flurry of notifications that had accumulated while you were winding down.

Most of them were filled with excitement, congratulating you on your impressive second-place finish in the race. However, amidst the sea of cheerful messages, one stood out—a private note from Max.

While some comments stung with negativity, suggesting you didn’t belong in the world of Formula 1, Max’s message was a beacon of warmth.

“Thanks for coming to celebrate with me 👍,” it read, and a smile crept across your face, momentarily pushing away the weight of the harsh words.

You felt a mix of emotions swirling within you, and for a moment, tears threatened to spill over. But instead of succumbing to the sadness, you decided to respond to Max.

Your fingers danced over the screen as you typed, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, you deserved it! 😁” The moment you hit send, a sense of relief washed over you.

It was a reminder that amidst the criticism, there were still those who appreciated your presence and celebrated your achievements.

You could almost hear Max’s laughter echoing in your mind, a sound that always seemed to lift your spirits.

Just as you were about to put your phone down, a new message popped up from Max. “You really made the night special! I’m glad you were there. Let’s catch up soon?”

His words filled you with warmth, and you could picture him grinning with alcohol still in his system, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Absolutely! I’d love to,” you replied, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

After setting your phone aside for the night, you drifted off to sleep, the soft hum of the world outside fading into a distant memory.

When you awoke, you were enveloped in a warm embrace, the kind that felt like home. Instantly, you recognized the familiar presence of Jake, his body radiating warmth against yours.

The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, a reminder of his previous night out with friends, a detail that both amused and concerned you.

A smile crept across your face as you turned to see him, his features relaxed and serene, a stark contrast to the tension that had marked his demeanor the night before.

Curiosity sparked within you, igniting a flurry of questions as you pondered where he had spent his time, what stories he might have to share, and whether the night had been as wild as you imagined.

You felt a rush of affection for him, a desire to know every detail of his adventures, to understand the man who had captured your heart so completely.

Despite the warnings from your friends urging you to reconsider your relationship, your feelings for him remained steadfast, unwavering like a lighthouse in a storm.

They claimed he was a source of trouble, a tempest that could jeopardize your career and stir up scandals that would ripple through your life.

Yet, deep down, you understood him better than they did, seeing the layers of his character that they overlooked. You believed in his integrity, in the goodness that lay beneath the surface, and you knew he wouldn’t intentionally cause chaos in your life.

Their concerns echoed in your mind, but they felt distant, like the sound of waves crashing against a far-off shore.

You were determined to forge your own path, to trust your instincts, and to embrace the love that had blossomed between you, even if it meant standing alone against the tide of skepticism.

Although your relationship was already in the public eye, with whispers and speculation swirling around you like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind, he had yet to join you in the paddock due to his work commitments.

You felt a mix of anticipation and longing, a bittersweet ache in your chest as you navigated the bustling environment without him by your side.

As you glanced at your phone, the screen illuminated the early morning hour, signaling it was time for your daily jog.

You carefully extricated yourself from Jake's embrace, trying not to disturb his peaceful slumber.

Just as you were about to tiptoe out of the room, you caught a faint mumble escaping his lips, a mix of sleep and concern. “Where are you going?” he murmured, his voice thick with drowsiness.

You paused for a moment, torn between the urge to reassure him and the need to stick to your routine.

“I’m just going for a quick run, love. I’ll be back before you know it,” you replied softly, hoping to ease any lingering worries. His brow furrowed slightly, even in his sleep, as if he sensed your departure was more than just a morning ritual.

“You always run too early… what if someone sees you?” he muttered, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, even in his dreams.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down to plant a quick kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It’s just me and the open road. You know I love my morning jogs.”

You could feel the tension in the air, a familiar weight that often accompanied your outings. “Okay,” he finally said, though the uncertainty lingered in his tone.

You quickly changed into your jogging attire before stepping out of the house. With a sense of urgency, you slipped into your comfortable workout gear, ready to embrace the fresh air outside.

The fabric of your favorite moisture-wicking shirt clung to your skin, and the soft elastic of your running shorts felt familiar and reassuring.

You laced up your well-worn sneakers, the soles still resilient from countless miles, and took a moment to stretch your legs, feeling the anticipation build within you.

Once dressed, you felt the excitement of the run ahead, eager to hit the pavement and enjoy the rhythm of your feet against the ground.

The world outside beckoned, vibrant and alive, as you opened the door and stepped into the crisp morning air. The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers filled your lungs, invigorating your spirit.

You took a deep breath, letting the coolness wash over you, and with a quick glance at the sky, you noted the sun just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue across the horizon.

As you began to jog, the familiar cadence of your heartbeat matched the steady thump of your feet on the pavement. Each stride felt liberating, a release from the confines of the day-to-day.

You could feel the tension of the week melting away with every step, replaced by a sense of freedom and clarity.

The rhythmic sound of your breath mingled with the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, creating a symphony of nature that accompanied you on your journey.

As you were enjoying your morning jog through the park, the rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the pavement was suddenly interrupted by a group of enthusiastic voices.

A cluster of women and girls approached you, their faces lighting up with excitement. "Excuse me! Miss Y/N! Can we get your autograph?" one of them exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

You paused, a bit surprised but also flattered, and smiled at the eager crowd. "Of course! I’d be happy to," you replied, pulling out a small notepad from your pocket.

Amid the chatter, a young girl stepped forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I want to start go-karting because I want to be just like you!" she declared, her voice filled with determination.

You could see the passion in her eyes, and it warmed your heart. "That’s amazing! Go-karting is such a fun sport," you encouraged her. "What do you love most about it?"

The girl beamed, her confidence growing as she shared her dreams of racing and the thrill of speed. "I love the idea of being in control and going fast! It looks so cool!"

You nodded, feeling a sense of responsibility to inspire her. "You know, every champion starts somewhere. If you really want to do it, just keep practicing and never give up. Surround yourself with people who support you, and you’ll go far," you advised, hoping to instill a sense of belief in her.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she nodded vigorously. "I will! Thank you so much!"

As the group dispersed, you felt a renewed sense of purpose, realizing that your journey could inspire others to chase their dreams, just as you had. . . .

As the days rolled on, the team decided to spice things up a bit before race week by organizing a fun game called "How Well Do You Know Each Other."

The idea was to not only entertain the fans but also to give everyone a glimpse into the camaraderie between you and Max.

You found yourself standing in front of the camera, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling inside you, while Max lounged comfortably on the sofa behind you, his headphones snugly in place, unable to listen in.

The staff kicked off the game with a playful tone, "Alright, let’s start with you! The first question about Max is… what is Max's favorite food?" You grinned, confident in your knowledge of your teammate.

"Oh, I know this one! Max is a huge fan of both Italian and Dutch cuisine, while I personally lean more towards Spanish dishes," you replied, your voice filled with enthusiasm.

The crew chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter, and you could see Max nodding in agreement, a smirk on his face even though he didn't know what you said.

After a few more questions, it was time for the roles to reverse. You took a seat on the sofa, and Max stood in front of the camera, a playful glint in his eyes.

The staff asked him the same question, and he leaned forward, a teasing smile forming. "Well, I know my teammate pretty well! She loves her Spanish food, but I think she secretly wishes she could cook like an Italian chef," he joked.

"You better be getting this right, I wanna beat Charles and Carlos' record," you said, feeling the competitive in you to beat Ferrari's record of 18 out of 20 right.

Max only turned around and gave an okay sign since you couldn't hear him, adding a little small wink for the tease but it was caught on camera.

In the end, both you and Max aced all the questions, and the excitement bubbled over as you jumped up and down, your energy infectious. Max stood nearby, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched your enthusiasm.

"See, everyone! Red Bull is clearly the superior team compared to Ferrari, so make sure to support us this week!" you exclaimed, wrapping up the video with a flourish.

As you turned to Max, you noticed he was still gazing at you, lost in thought. It took you by surprise.

"Max, do you want to add anything to what I just said?" you asked, a playful grin on your face as you nudged his shoulder gently.

Snapping back to reality, Max turned to the camera, a hint of sheepishness in his expression.

"Oh, umm, yeah… Red Bull domination, I guess?" he replied, his voice a mix of uncertainty and enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his response, and Max's smile widened, clearly pleased that he could make you laugh.

"Alright, everyone, that's a wrap! We'll catch you all soon. Fingers crossed for another P1-P2 finish, but maybe next time we can switch things up a bit," you said, waving enthusiastically at the camera.

As the camera clicked off, you turned to the crew with a warm smile, expressing your gratitude for their support. You shifted your focus to Max, who was standing nearby, a mix of anticipation and amusement on his face.

"Hey, Max," you began, a playful glint in your eye. "How does it feel to be the most compatible drivers on the grid?"

Max's eyes widened slightly at the phrase "most compatible," and you could see a hint of color rising to his cheeks. But as soon as he processed the word "driver," his expression shifted to one of mild disappointment.

"It feels nice, I guess," he replied, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Just another thing to brag about to Lando, right?"

You chuckled, knowing how much Max loved to tease his fellow drivers. "Oh, absolutely! I can already picture it—Lando rolling his eyes while you go on about how you and I are the ultimate duo."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "He'll probably come up with some ridiculous comeback, like how he’s the best driver in the world or something."

"Well, he does have a knack for that," you said, leaning against the wall, enjoying the banter. "But let’s be honest, you two are like an old married couple. Always bickering but secretly caring for each other."

Max rolled his eyes dramatically. "Please, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment. I can barely handle my own sleeping schedule!"

Max shrugged, a hint of humility creeping into his demeanor. "But honestly, having you around makes it easier. You bring a different energy to the team."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thanks, Max. That means a lot coming from you. I think we balance each other out pretty well."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it’s like we have this unspoken understanding. You know when to push me and when to let me breathe. It’s refreshing."

"Exactly! And it’s not just about racing; it’s about the camaraderie we build off the track too. Those late-night strategy sessions and the random moments of laughter—they all add up."

Max chuckled, recalling a particularly ridiculous moment from a previous race weekend. "Remember that time we got lost trying to find the catering tent? We ended up in that random fan zone instead!"

You burst out laughing, the memory flooding back. "Oh my god, yes! And those fans were so excited to see us, they thought we were there for a meet-and-greet! We ended up taking selfies with them for an hour."

"Right? And then we finally found the catering tent, only to discover they were out of your favorite pasta!" Max added, shaking his head in disbelief.

"That was a tragedy," you said, feigning a dramatic sigh. "But it turned into one of the best days. I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything."

Max’s gaze softened as he looked at you, a genuine smile breaking through. "Me neither. It’s those little things that make all the hard work worth it."

You both stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the camaraderie between you palpable. The atmosphere around the paddock buzzed with activity, but in that moment, it felt like you were in your own little world.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," Max said, breaking the moment with a playful nudge. "Let’s get back to business. We’ve got a race to prepare for, and I can’t let you steal all my glory."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, please! You know I’m just here to make you look good. Besides, I wouldn’t dream of overshadowing the reigning champion."

What you two didn't know was that the cameras didn't stop but recorded your little moment, which went viral in the few minutes that it was posted. . . . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You knew that the public would start shipping you and Max together sooner or later but you weren't bothered with it.

You had a boyfriend who you cared for deeply, someone who had been your rock through the ups and downs of your racing career. Yet, his reaction to the swirling rumors about you and Max took you by surprise.

You never imagined he would be so affected by the gossip that seemed to spread like wildfire through the paddock and beyond.

Here you were, caught in a web of emotions, torn between the thrill of a new chapter and the loyalty you felt towards your current relationship.

As you stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your shared space enveloped you, but it did little to ease the tension that hung in the air.

You found Jake lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to his phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, and you could sense that something was off.

“Hey, babe,” you greeted him, trying to sound cheerful despite the weight on your shoulders. He barely looked up, his fingers scrolling furiously, as if searching for answers in the digital chaos.

“Did you hear about you and Max?” he finally snapped, his voice laced with irritation, cutting through the silence like a knife. “It’s all over social media. Are you really going to let this get to you?”

You felt your heart sink; you had hoped for a different reaction, one that would reassure you that your relationship was strong enough to withstand the storm of rumors.

“Come on, it’s just rumors,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremor in it betrayed your inner turmoil. “You know I’m committed to only you.”

You watched as he shot you a skeptical glance, his jealousy bubbling to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. “Yeah, but how can I trust you when you’re out there with him all the time? It’s not just a coincidence that everyone is talking about it.”

The words stung, and you took a deep breath. "Babe I love only you-"

"Please, don’t even think about it! You know I’m stuck here because if I walked away, your fans would make my life a living nightmare," Jake exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling from the harsh reality of your situation.

It was as if he had taken a knife and twisted it, exposing the raw vulnerability you had tried so hard to hide.

You could feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. "I didn’t ask for any of this," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you could sense the tension between you growing thicker by the second. It was a battle of emotions, and you were losing ground.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know it’s not fair, but you have to understand the pressure I’m under. It’s not just about us; it’s about my career, my fans. I can’t let them down."

His eyes softened for a moment, revealing a glimpse of the man you fell in love with.

"But I don’t want to lose you. Can’t we find a way to make this work?" You pleaded.

"I don't know," he muttered, not lifting his eyes from his phone before standing up and walking past you to get his coat and shoes. "i'm gonna take a walk,"

This has been a pattern for weeks now. You would come home, he would start an argument then make up an excuse to leave the house, leaving you to either pick up his mess or go to sleep without your partner. To only wake up with him cuddling you in the morning and apologise for his action last night.

You were getting sick of it but you still love him too much to break up with him. . . .

The days that followed were a blur of introspection and emotional turmoil. Each time you caught a glimpse of Jake’s name on your phone, a knot formed in your stomach.

You had always been the type to see the good in people, to believe that love could conquer all, but the reality of your situation was becoming harder to ignore.

The moments of tenderness were overshadowed by the growing unease that settled in your chest like a heavy stone.

You spent more time with Sarah, who seemed to sense your internal struggle. She filled your days with laughter and distraction, taking you out for coffee, long walks in the park, and movie marathons that kept your mind off the impending decision.

Yet, no matter how much you tried to push it aside, the thought of Jake lingered like a shadow, reminding you of the grip he had on your heart—and not in a way that felt safe or loving.

One evening, as you and Sarah sat on the balcony watching the sunset, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, she turned to you again.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but you have to prioritize your happiness. You can’t keep living in this limbo," she said, her voice steady and unwavering.

You looked out at the horizon, the beauty of the moment contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside you.

"I know," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "But what if I’m wrong? What if he really can change?"

The fear of making the wrong choice loomed large, a specter that haunted your thoughts.

"Change is possible, but it has to come from him, not from you hoping for it," Sarah said gently. "You can’t be the one to fix him. You’re not responsible for his happiness or his growth. You deserve to be with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You thought back to the last time he had gripped your arm, the way his eyes had darkened, and how you had brushed it off as a moment of frustration.

But now, in the light of day, you could see it for what it was—a warning sign that you had been too afraid to acknowledge.

That night, as you lay in bed, the silence of your room felt deafening. You replayed every moment of your relationship, the good and the bad, and slowly, the scales began to tip.

The holiday seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, and soon you found yourself stepping into the paddock alongside Sarah and Jake.

As you walked, you could feel the tension in the air; Jake wore a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, gripping your hand a little too tightly.

“Hey, look at all the fans!” you exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood as you waved enthusiastically at the crowd, signing autographs for those who called out your name.

Sarah, taking a break from her hectic job, had decided to join you, her laughter ringing out like music amidst the bustling atmosphere.

“Isn’t this amazing?” you said, glancing at Sarah, who was snapping pictures with her phone. “I can’t believe how many people came out today!”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s like a mini-celebration! But where’s your boyfriend? He seems a bit off today.”

You shrugged, trying to brush off the concern. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just tired. We haven’t really talked much since we got back.”

You stole a glance at him, who was still smiling, but it felt forced, like he was putting on a show for everyone around.

You made the decision to invite Jake into your driver’s room for a heart-to-heart conversation. As you settled into the familiar space, you turned to him with a gentle concern.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” you asked, your voice soft and inviting.

Jake looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and longing, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m alright, really. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately,” he replied, his tone sincere.

In that moment, you felt a rush of warmth; you had missed the comfort of his touch more than you realized.

“Jake, I need to let you know that I have to leave soon,” you murmured, trying to keep the conversation grounded. But he seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

“Why don’t you just quit your job already? I can take care of you, I promise,” he suggested, his voice dripping with temptation.

The idea hung in the air between you, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the pull of his offer.

It was tempting, but the passion you had for Formula 1 was a flame that burned too brightly to extinguish for anyone, even someone as captivating as Jake.

You took a deep breath, weighing your options. “Jake, you know how much this means to me. Formula 1 isn’t just a job; it’s my dream,” you replied, your heart heavy with the conflict.

He stepped back slightly, his expression shifting from desire to disappointment. “I get it, but can’t you see how much I care about you? I want us to be together, and I thought you felt the same way,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

You could see the struggle in his eyes, and it pained you to know that your passion for racing was creating a rift between you.

“I do care about you, but I can’t just walk away from everything I’ve worked for,” you insisted, hoping he would understand.

As you stand there, the tension weighs heavily in the air, palpable and thick, as Jake's frustration spills over, his voice tinged with a mix of hurt and desperation.

"But what about me?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for an answer that you know is difficult to provide. "Since you started this job, we haven’t done anything together. All you've been doing is hanging out with that Max boy. Don’t you see it?"

His words cut through the silence, piercing the surface of your mind and forcing you to confront the tangled web of your life that feels all too overwhelming at this moment.

As you gather your thoughts, aware that the job has transformed your priorities and the once-familiar relationship with Jake has shifted, you attempt to articulate your feelings, to bridge the widening chasm of misunderstanding.

"Jake—" you start, your voice tremulous, hoping to weave a delicate thread of connection that can pull you both back to a place of understanding, but he interjects, the intensity of his emotions propelling him forward before you can offer your perspective.

"I’ll show you—don't worry," he mutters, the frustration lacing his tone beginning to dissipate as he suddenly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a gesture that is both protective and possessive.

The warmth of his body against yours sends a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the bond you once cherished.

Feeling the urgency of the moment, his lips find yours, a kiss that ignites a flicker of hope amid the turmoil of doubt and fear swirling around you. . . .

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

After the holiday break, you had started to act differently, almost as if a shadow had fallen over their usual camaraderie.

Whenever he approached to nudge her shoulder playfully, she would flinch, a look of surprise crossing her face as if she were bracing for something unpleasant.

It was a stark contrast to the easygoing banter they once shared, and he couldn't help but notice how she had become more withdrawn, often lost in her thoughts, her laughter replaced by a distant gaze.

He believed you were feeling down because the team was struggling to achieve the results they had hoped for.

Typically, his father would reach out to him after a disappointing race, sometimes even resorting to physical punishment if the outcome was particularly disheartening.

It was a routine he had come to accept, thinking it was a common experience shared by many.

However, everything changed when his therapist pointed out that not everyone endured such treatment, which sparked a rebellion within him against his father's harsh ways.

"Why do you always have to be so hard on me?" he had shouted one evening, frustration boiling over.

His father, taken aback, responded with a stern look, "Because I want you to be the best, Max. You need to learn that life isn’t always fair."

But Max felt differently; he wanted to be supported, not punished.

As he pondered your situation, he couldn't help but wonder if you had faced similar challenges.

"Do you have someone in your life who treats you badly?" he asked cautiously, trying to gauge your response.

Your eyes widened at the sudden question before you shook your head, a small smile breaking through the clouds of doubt.

"No, not like that. Everyone is really supportive of me these days."

Max felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful that you had not been in that cycle of abuse he had been so familiar with.

In many of the recent races, both you and Max found yourselves finishing in the P2 to P4 range, or sometimes not making it to the podium at all, which left the team feeling quite disheartened.

The once-promising season had turned into a series of missed opportunities, and the weight of expectations began to take its toll on everyone involved.

The atmosphere in the garage was thick with tension, and the engineers were working overtime to analyze data and strategize for the next race, but the results were still falling short of what the team had hoped for.

This situation also prompted Max's father, Jos, to plan a visit during the race weekend. He intended to check in on his son and perhaps give him a much-needed reality check, quite literally.

As the race day approached, Jos observed his son engaging in cheerful conversation with you, rather than focusing on the engineers to gather crucial insights, a routine Max typically adhered to before a race.

This deviation from his usual pre-race preparation did not sit well with Jos.

He had always believed that the hours leading up to a race were critical for mental conditioning and strategy formulation. To see Max laughing and joking instead of poring over telemetry data or discussing race strategies with the engineers was concerning for him.

Jos's frustration grew as he watched the interaction unfold. He believed that your presence was a distraction, pulling Max away from the intense focus required for peak performance.

In his eyes, the bond you shared with his son was undermining Max's potential to excel on the track.

He felt that friendships weren't important and they should not come at the expense of Max's dedication to his craft.

Jos was determined to address this issue head-on, convinced that a serious conversation was necessary to realign Max's priorities. . . . .

In the midst of a lively discussion filled with laughter and camaraderie, Jos abruptly interjected, "Max, I need to talk to you right now."

His tone cut through the jovial atmosphere, drawing the attention of both you and his son. The laughter faded, replaced by a sudden stillness as everyone turned to witness the unfolding scene.

Max's expression shifted from joy to disappointment as he glanced at you, yet he managed to offer a reassuring smile before reluctantly following his father away from the group.

"Yes, Father?" Max responded in Dutch, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. The way he spoke suggested a mix of respect and wariness, as if he were bracing himself for a conversation he knew would be anything but easy.

Jos wasted no time in launching into his concerns, his words spilling out with a sense of urgency.

"You must distance yourself from that girl; she is a distraction that will hinder your performance in the race," he asserted, his tone firm and authoritative, as if he were delivering a decree rather than a request.

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a stark contrast to the lightheartedness that had just moments ago enveloped the gathering.

Max, however, was quick to defend you, his loyalty evident in the way he stood a little taller, his brow furrowing in determination. "No, she doesn't distract me, Father. She's my teammate," he stated, his voice steady and resolute.

The conviction in his tone reflected a bond that transcended mere friendship; it was a partnership built on shared goals and mutual respect.

Yet, as he spoke, the tension between father and son thickened, a palpable clash of wills that seemed to reverberate through the quiet space around them.

Jos, sensing the resistance in Max's voice, shifted his approach, employing subtle manipulation to sway his son’s perspective.

"Think about your future, Max. You have so much potential, and I only want what is best for you," he continued, his voice softening slightly, as if trying to appeal to Max's aspirations.

The words were carefully chosen, designed to instill doubt about your influence, to paint you as an obstacle rather than an ally.

Max hesitated, caught between his father's expectations and his own feelings.

The internal struggle was evident on his face, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he grappled with the conflicting loyalties that tugged at his heart.

"It is evident in your results over the weeks, you've been falling off the high scores recently, hardly been able to reach third place because of that girl!" Jos stressed out and Max became quiet, letting those words sink in.

"Max, think about it," Jos continued, his tone shifting to one of persuasion. "You need to focus on your game and not let distractions get in the way. She's not worth it."

Max felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He had always admired his father's wisdom, but now he sensed a subtle manipulation at play. Jos was trying to steer him away from his feelings, and deep down, Max knew it.

Yet, the idea of disappointing his father loomed larger than his own desires.

"Okay, Father," Max finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt a pang of regret as he agreed, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing a part of himself in the process. As he walked away, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.

Was it worth sacrificing his happiness for the sake of competition?

As he walked away, the sound of his father's footsteps fading behind him, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.

The internal struggle was just beginning, and Max knew he had to find a way to balance his passion for the game with the complexities of his heart.

He thought of you—the woman who had sparked something within him, a light that had ignited a warmth he hadn't been able to feel like Daniel left.

After he began to distance himself from you, he noticed a change in your demeanor.

You seemed more withdrawn, putting on a facade of happiness with a constant smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were hiding behind long-sleeved coats, even in the warm weather, creating a barrier between yourself and the world around you.

The vibrant laughter that once filled the air when you were together had been replaced by a silence that hung heavily between you, punctuated only by the occasional forced chuckle or polite nod.

Max could see the way your shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of unspoken words and unshared feelings was pressing down on you.

Your eyes, once bright with enthusiasm and mischief, now seemed clouded, reflecting a deep-seated sadness that you tried so hard to conceal.

He remembered the long pointless conversations, the dreams you both had shared, and the plans that now felt like distant memories. It pained him to witness your struggle, yet he felt powerless to bridge the growing chasm between you.

Despite the guilt that gnawed at him, Max couldn’t help but recognize a shift in his own performance on the racetrack.

He found himself consistently finishing on the podium, a stark contrast to your struggles as you remained trapped within the top ten.

Each trophy he lifted felt heavier than the last, a reminder of the friendship that had once fueled his passion for racing.

He could hear the cheers of the crowd, feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but all he could think about was how you used to be there, celebrating alongside him, your face alight with pride and joy.

While he celebrated his achievements, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something important was missing.

The camaraderie they once shared seemed to slip further away with each passing race, leaving him to wonder if the price of success was worth the cost of their connection.

He often found himself glancing over at the empty spot in the pit where you used to stand, your eyes sparkling with encouragement, your voice ringing out with advice that had always kept him grounded.

As the races continued, Max felt a growing urgency to reach out, to break through the walls you had built around yourself.

But his father kept him grounded and not letting that thought come to life anytime soon. . . .

As you maneuver through the winding turns of the racetrack, adrenaline surges through your veins, a heady blend of focus and exhilaration.

"Joseph, what's the gap to Max?" you inquire, your voice steady despite the chaos enveloping you as you glance at the rearview mirror, noticing Charles's fierce pursuit as he falls into your peripheral vision, momentarily eclipsed by your recent strategic overtaking maneuver.

"2.3 seconds in front of you, Y/N," Joseph replies, his tone equally crisp yet slightly strained, hinting at the intensity of the moment.

The hum of the engine, the vibrations of the car, and the distant roar of the crowd blend into a symphony of speed, and as you negotiate the track, your mind sharpens with determination.

You consider your next move with meticulous care, knowing that a split-second decision could alter the course of the race.

Holding tightly to the steering wheel, you then ask, “Do I have permission to take over?”

Pause hangs in the air like a fragile breath, and you can almost anticipate Joseph's reply, especially given the longstanding tradition wherein hesitance often blankets these life-altering decisions.

Sure enough, after a fleeting silence, you prepare for the inevitable response that would echo in your ears like an unwelcome refrain, one you were all too familiar with.

But just as you brace yourself for a “no,” the radio crackles to life again—this time with a tidal wave of unexpected urgency.

"Yes! Y/N? Can you hear me? The team has approved the overtake of Max! Go for it!" Joseph’s voice bursts through with a burst of energy, jolting you from your reverie.

Instinctively, your foot plunges onto the accelerator as you channel every ounce of skill, focus, and ambition into propelling yourself forward.

You swiftly navigate the corner, your car gliding through the air like a bird released from captivity, and in that moment of pure adrenaline, you find yourself eclipsing Max, reclaiming the lead with undeniable ferocity.

As you settle into your newfound position at first place, the tension morphs into an exhilarating electrification coursing through your body.

Max, having momentarily lost his grip on the lead, now battles to fend off Charles and Lando from making any hazardous moves that might threaten your dominion at the front.

In the heat of the moment, the radio blaring with strategic updates fades into the background as your vision narrows solely on the track ahead—you are a race car driver, a gladiator in this battle of speed, and nothing else matters.

The world dissolves into monochrome, your focus unwavering as you grip the wheel like it’s a lifeline.

Distant cheers from the crowd seep through your concentration, yet you silence those voices, drowning out distractions as you become acutely aware of the weight of the race, the dreams that hang delicately in the balance—everything is at stake.

You feel sweat trickling down your temple and a syrupy mix of anticipation and fear soaring through your chest, but as you approach the final laps, triumph struggles to emerge from the depths of your hardwork.

Amidst the exhilarating distractions, your attention sharpens when you catch a faint echo of Joseph’s voice cutting through the chatter. "Y/N! You did it! You won!"

The joyous eruption on the other end floods your senses with disbelief, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over you.

In that electrifying moment, as you maintain your grip on the wheel for the last few seconds, reality begins to wash over you like an exhilarating wave, and the tears you could feel brewing now threaten to spill, your triumph intertwining with your vulnerability.

With the checkered flag waving triumphantly in the air, you ease down on the accelerator, the sensation of victory swelling inside you as you let a muffled cry of delight escape your lips.

You slow your car and finally breathe, releasing all the pent-up energy, as the realization of your success resonates in every fiber of your being.

"You did it, Y/N! You won the grand prix!" Joseph's voice dances through the radio, resonating with an infectious glee.

A burst of laughter escapes your lips, and for the first time, the roar of the crowd—a melodic blend of cheers—warms your heart.

As you roll to a stop, the world around you crescendos into a celebration of your harrowing journey—each twist, each turn, each heartbeat racing in sync with the rhythm of victory.

The moment is surreal, and as you step out of the car, you are not just a racer anymore; you are a triumphant force that turned dreams into reality, and no title could encapsulate the pride swelling within you.

You parked the car in front of the first-place stand, your heart racing as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a moment to absorb the victory that had just unfolded; it was surreal, almost like a scene plucked from your wildest dreams.

You stood on the hood of your car, exhilaration bubbling up inside you as you raised your fists in triumph, thrusting them into the air with a euphoric fist bump that echoed your unrestrained joy.

The cheers of the crowd swirled around you, a chorus of celebration, and for a heartbeat, the entire world felt like it paused in honour of your hard-fought achievement.

The weight of every early morning, every late night, every moment spent honing your driving in the shadows now seemed beautifully light, overshadowed by the sheer thrill of the moment.

As you jumped off the car with a renewed sense of vitality, you sprinted toward your team, their faces lit up with genuine happiness.

It marked a pivotal moment, one where they no longer treated you as fragile or merely a woman in a male-dominated sport; instead, they embraced you like a teammate, a winner.

You felt the warmth of their hugs wrapping around you, their joy infectious in a way that washed away any lingering doubts you had ever held about your place in this fierce and demanding environment.

“I can’t believe we did it!” you exclaimed, looking around at their beaming faces, heart swelling.

Some laughing tears glistening in their eyes, as they crowded around you, lifting you momentarily off your feet, celebrating not only your victory but the growth of a team bound together by perseverance and shared dreams.

Max eventually pulled up in front of the second-place station, his car’s engine rumbling to a soft stop just a few feet away from you. He stepped out, the sunlight catching the edges of his helmet as he removed it, revealing a look of pure delight plastered across his face.

It was a sight that brightened your heart; his genuine smile mirrored your own, a silent acknowledgment of the fierce competition that had just transpired on the track.

You could hardly control the emotions that swelled within you. With an impulsive rush, you charged toward him, unable to contain the joy of your victory.

In a flurry of excitement, you leaped into his arms, a spontaneous act born from the adrenaline still dancing through your body. He caught you effortlessly, his hands cradling your back protectively, and in that moment, the world shrank down to just the two of you.

“I won!" you declared, breathless, your voice a mixture of disbelief and sheer happiness, as if saying it out loud might make the victory feel more real.

A grin split Max's face wider, and you could see the pride sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, you won! Congratulations!" he echoed, his voice turning melodic with the thrill of your accomplishment.

His embrace tightened around you, and you melted into the moment, filled with a sense of camaraderie and respect that had blossomed between you two over the course of your racing journeys.

As he set you back on your feet, laughter bubbled up once again, infectious and wildly free.

"I hope I didn't catch you off guard with that leap," you admitted, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice as you took a sip from your drink.

"Not at all! I’m just thrilled for you," Max replied, his cheeks flushed with excitement as he gave you a friendly pat on the back.

After the interview with the top three winners, you, Max, and Charles settled into the conference room, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the race replay flickered on the screen. The tension was palpable as the footage captured the thrilling moments of the competition.

"Wow! That was such a turn!" Charles exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his brow, clearly still feeling the adrenaline from the race.

He was referring to the intense maneuver where he nearly overtook Lando, a moment that had everyone on the edge of their seats.

As the race continued to unfold on the screen, you found yourself lost in thought, your mind racing with the events that had just transpired.

You focused on your breathing, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You had actually won.

Max, sitting beside you, noticed your silence and turned his attention toward you, his eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked softly, breaking the tension in the room. His voice was steady, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of the race replay.

You nodded slowly, appreciating Max's concern but still feeling the weight of the moment. "Yeah, just processing everything," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

After the conference wrapped up, the divers were given the freedom to either retreat to their driver’s rooms or celebrate with their teams and families.

However, the atmosphere was tinged with concern. The race winner was notably absent, and everyone had been eagerly anticipating a celebration for your first victory.

But after you dashed out of the conference room in a flurry, you seemed to vanish without a trace.

Everyone, especially Max, who had reached out to congratulate you repeatedly, was waiting, eager for you to join them in the festivities.

Max had noticed your absence almost immediately after the conference ended. The smile that had danced on his lips dimmed when you didn't join the team to celebrate; he frequently glanced toward the driver’s room, a sense of unease gnawing at his gut.

The more he thought about it, the more his concern deepened; it wasn't like you to shy away from such moments of triumph.

As teammates and family began to cheer and revel in the evening's wins, Max made the decision to search for you.

His quest took him to the paddock and then to your garage, but each passing minute only heightened his worries. "Where could you be, Y/N?" he murmured to himself, frustration lacing his voice as he traversed the familiar paths of the circuit, searching desperately for a glimpse of you.

His heart raced with anxiety; he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, his gaze landed on the door of your driver's room, slightly ajar, like a whisper beckoning him to enter. Without a second thought, he approached and knocked gently, "Y/N, are you in there?"

Listening intently, he leaned closer to the door and was met with faint whimpers that sent a chill down his spine.

Panic surged through him.

This wasn’t just a moment of celebration for you; it felt like a cry for help, echoing through the cold corridor.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed the door open wider, bracing himself for whatever he might find—though nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes when the door creaked open.

The scene unfolded before him like a nightmare; your so-called boyfriend stood menacingly above you, his hand raised as if poised to strike, while your frail form displayed clear signs of distress—your face bruised, tears streaming down your cheeks, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as he took stock of the situation, the cruel contrast of celebration outside and the terrifying reality inside your room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Max's voice cut through the air, laced with fury as he stepped into the room, instinctively placing himself between you and the looming threat.

In that instant, your boyfriend's grip on your collar slackened, surprise washing over his features as he turned to face Max.

“Stay out of this, Max! This has nothing to do with you,” your boyfriend snarled, his bravado faltering under the sudden scrutiny.

But Max remained steadfast, stepping closer, his presence commanding as he glared at the man who had dared to raise a hand against you.

“You’re wrong. It has everything to do with me. Y/N is my friend, and I won’t let you hurt her,” he replied, his voice steady yet filled with palpable tension.

Your eyes met Max's, a flicker of hope igniting amidst despair, and despite everything, the warmth of that friendship washed over you.

Max's voice echoed through the room, a mix of frustration and urgency. "You need to leave now!" he shouted, his eyes locked onto your boyfriend, who stood there with clenched fists and a scowl that could cut glass.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice through. Your boyfriend hesitated, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, but something in Max's tone made him reconsider.

"Fine," he finally muttered, his voice low and filled with resentment. "I’ll go, but this isn’t over."

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving you and Max in a heavy silence.

“Max, please…” you managed to choke out, your voice hoarse as the fear and pain slowly ebbed. “I just…I just wanted to celebrate, but I didn’t know who I could trust. I thought…”

Your voice faltered as the tears resumed their steady flow. Max's gaze softened as he turned back to you, the protective barrier he had formed in front of you embodying more than just physical defense.

“You can trust me, Y/N,” he said firmly, his expression shifting to one of concern.

With Max's unwavering support behind you, the resolve within you began to build.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling, but a hint of strength colored your tone.

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jo-speaks · 2 months ago

Text

APOLOGY ACCEPTED

overview: after quinn receives the silent treatment, he's determined to make it up to you.

warnings: smut below! MDNI!! fingering, unprotected sex, quinn being an asshole but he makes up for it, etc.

note: got inspired to write bc the canucks beat the blackhawks!! (i was worried after they gave up that first goal)

“Will you quit acting like a child and just talk to me?”

You scoffed at his comment, slipping off your shoes and hanging your keys up by the door, Quinn following behind you.

In his eyes, you had no real reason to be upset. You had attended the Canucks and Islanders game, the game ending in a loss. You expected Quinn to be in a mood, a quiet one at that, so you didn’t make much of an effort to talk to him.

However, you hadn’t expected him to dodge your greeting entirely. No matter how upset he was, he’d always greet you with a hug and a kiss. This night, he had let you make a fool out of yourself, letting you wrap your arms around him as he failed to reciprocate it, being followed by walking away as you just nearly connected your lips to his.

This resulted in your current situation. You giving him the silent treatment. He had attempted to spark a conversation in the car once he had calmed down but fell victim to your silence.

He groaned in annoyance as you stepped into your shared bedroom, slipping out a few moments later in your own oversized shirt, something you only did when you were truly upset at him. You found solace on the couch, grabbing the remote and throwing some random video on in the background. Quinn watched as you didn’t even glance at him, his presence completely nonexistent in your state of anger.

He sighed walking into the room you once were in to change into something more comfortable than the suit he had entered the arena in. It was only when he slipped into his sweatpants was it that he realized that he was the one in the wrong. You had taken time out of your day to come out and support him, offering comfort even after a tough loss.

Quinn debated with himself in his own mind, brainstorming ways to make it up to you. He could get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, smothering you with kisses until you forgave him or even spoke to him by telling him to stop. He could spoil you with gifts for the next year. He was feeling so unworthy of you that he briefly considered retiring early just to spend the whole time making it up to you.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. He stripped off the shirt that he had put on only a few moments prior and stepped back into the living room.

His eyes were met with a slightly different scene than when he had left. Instead of mindlessly watching the TV, you were on your phone. He could catch a small glimpse of your screen, seeing you like a post from the Canucks Instagram page of him hugging Lekkerimäki after scoring his first NHL goal, zooming in to get a good look at his proud smile.

Quinn could feel his stomach twist at your actions, regretting every single second he had gone without apologizing to you.

You soon went back to scrolling your feed, trying to ignore Quinn’s presence as he squatted in front of you, turning the TV volume down before shifting his attention to you.

He sighed, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

It was genuine, you knew that. But he was going to have to say a lot more than sorry after what he pulled. Quinn knew this too, immediately crowding your space, taking your phone out of your hands, and placing it on the coffee table. You rolled your eyes, shifting your gaze at the TV behind him even though it was barely coherent.

Quinn didn’t stop his efforts when you ignored him, if anything it implored him to try harder. He began kissing your cheek, eventually trailing down your face and landing on your neck, sucking at the soft skin, leaving purple blotches wherever his lips landed.

You struggled to keep quiet as he reached a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, a spot he knew would make you want to drop it and give in. Somehow, you managed to keep your composure, distracting yourself with the TV.

His lips trailed further down, kissing over your shirt as he kept going lower. It was only that his kisses stopped when he reached the bottom of the clothing. He moved it slightly so he could get access to your shorts. He moved from his squatting position to hover on top of your figure on the couch.

Now that he was in a more comfortable spot, his lips found your face again as his hand dipped into your shorts and past your panties. You bit your tongue as the pads of his fingers made contact with your clit, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He mumbled into your jaw, “So fucking sorry.

Once again he trailed lower, his lips landing on your collarbone this time. His fingers increased their speed and keeping quiet was getting close to impossible. Luckily for him, your control slipped slightly as he pushed two fingers into you, a soft moan escaping your lips.

He was knuckle-deep into you as he curled his fingers, hitting that one spot in you that caused a gasp to slip out. You were determined to keep quiet, but with every thrust of his fingers and tightening of the knot in your stomach, you wanted nothing more than to cry out his name and beg him to fuck you.

Quinn was relentless, not only with his fingers but with his words. He mumbled apology after apology into your skin as you panted, trying your best not to let anything slip. His mouth ended up next to your ear, his words seeming much more intimate due to the proximity.

“Please forgive me, sweet girl. I’ll never do it again.” He whined, sounding pathetic as he begged for your forgiveness.

One last curl of his fingers and your body stopped fighting him. You came undone around his digits, crying out his name as you reached a hand up to tug on his hair. He sighed in relief, eyes shutting as he felt the satisfaction of not only making you cum but also hearing you acknowledge him since entering the apartment.

As you came down from your high, he continued to place soft kisses all over your neck and face. The satisfaction continued as you turned your head, your lips finding his like you had yearned for back at the arena.

He retracted his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, wiping them clean with his tongue. You smiled hazily at the sight, admiring the way he savoured your taste as if it was his favourite thing in the world.

“Am I forgiven?” He whispered, a hint of worry laced in his words.

You giggled quietly, “I think you can make it up to me a little more, don’t you think?”

Quinn smiled at your words, stepping off the couch to discard his pants completely. You lifted your hips, sliding out of your shorts. He only got as far as to sit down on the couch before you swung a leg around his lap, straddling him, his eyes admiring you on top of him.

Now it was your turn to litter him in marks, his lack of a shirt making his pec your first target. You sucked gently, grinding yourself over his bare cock, eliciting a groan from your boyfriend.

“Let me take care of you, hm? Promise I’ll make you feel good.” Quinn asked, hoping to at least be able to rest inside of you as you sucked at his skin.

You smiled, pulling back to place a brief kiss on his lips, “I know you will. But I wanna take my time with you. Just give me a second, okay?”

He knew he wasn’t in a position to complain, so he simply nodded, settling for the stimulation he was getting from your hips. Thankfully, Quinn was so easily marked up that you were satisfied not long after. You were always careful not to leave any hickeys that were visible under his gear, but you got carried away and now the media would get a short glimpse into his personal life. Not that either of you cared about it at the moment, however.

When you pulled away, you lifted your hips and shot him a look. He caught the hint immediately, lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you swiftly.

Quinn gave you no chance to adjust before he fucked you harshly. All the teasing you had made him endure got him so worked up, that he was surprised he didn’t finish as soon as he entered you.

“Shit, you feel so good.” He groaned, his hands shifting from your hips to grope at your ass.

You let out a whimper as you felt your orgasm build up yet again, the look on your boyfriend’s face making your brain short circuit. His eyebrows were knitted together, eyes glossy and cheeks red as a stream of moans left his throat.

“Quinn! I’m so close.” You whined, your face leaning into his shoulder in an attempt to hold yourself together long enough for him to finish with you. That vision was tossed out of your mind as Quinn brought his hand to your clit, his thumb rubbing around it.

A stream of his name along with some obscenities escaped your lips as you came around his cock, the pulses coming from your pussy being enough to tip Quinn over as well.

His movement subsided, the only sounds in the room being gasping breaths coming from the two of you.

Quinn settled down first, pressing languid kisses to the side of your face. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”

You smiled into his skin, turning your head to look at him, “Apology accepted. Just don’t ever do it again.”

“I never will.” He leaned over to kiss your lips longingly before speaking again, “How about we get cleaned up and order in some dinner? We can even throw on one of those cheesy romance movies you like.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #qh43 #vancouver canucks #nhl smut #jo speaks

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serapharua · 26 days ago

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HYBRID &TEAM reaction to you touching their ears . . . !

&team ot9 — GENRE : imagines headcanon fluff hybrid au — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING : none — REQUESTED : nope.

notes : Euijoo is a sloth bear so he does have ears

K (kangaroo hybrid) :

You were sitting on the couch with K, casually talking about the day. He had been particularly relaxed today, and you were enjoying the calm moment together. His ears twitched a little in the light breeze from the open window, drawing your attention. Without really thinking about it, your hand reached out, gently brushing the soft tips of his ears.

K froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as his ears flicked back in surprise. The sudden touch caught him off guard, and his face flushed a bit. He instinctively pulled back, but not enough to completely distance himself from you. His ears twitched again, this time in a mix of confusion and a little embarrassment.

“Hey, uh…” K mumbled, his voice softer than usual as he shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t touch my ears like that… it’s… kind of sensitive.”

You immediately felt bad, worried you’d crossed a boundary. You apologized quickly, but K gave a small, nervous laugh, though there was a hint of playful teasing in his voice.

“It’s just… they’re not used to being touched like that,” he continued, his eyes flicking to the side for a moment before returning to you. “But…”

He hesitated for a second before giving you a small, sheepish smile. “I guess it’s fine. Just… maybe not too much. It’s kinda embarrassing.” His ears twitched again, this time in a way that looked almost endearing.

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of the moment making you feel a little more connected. K’s usual confident demeanor softened in the most unexpected way, making him seem even more genuine and vulnerable than usual.

FUMA (panda hybrid) :

You and Fuma were lounging on the couch after a long day. Fuma was usually calm, always exuding a nurturing, dad-like presence, but tonight he seemed unusually relaxed. His panda ears were peeking out from his hair, and they twitched occasionally as he listened to you talk. Without thinking, you gently reached out, your fingers brushing the soft fur on the tips of his ears.

Fuma’s body went completely still for a split second, his eyes widening slightly. His usual composed demeanor faltered, and his ears flicked back a bit as though in surprise. He glanced at you, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. His lips parted, like he was about to say something but hesitated.

“Ah, that’s… different,” Fuma murmured, his voice softer than usual. He shifted, clearly a little uncomfortable but also caught off guard by how sensitive the touch felt. His ears twitched nervously, as though trying to adjust to the feeling.

“I didn’t think… you’d touch them like that,” he added, scratching the back of his head in a nervous habit. “It’s just… they’re kind of sensitive. I wasn’t expecting you to just reach out.”

You quickly pulled your hand back, apologizing, but Fuma shook his head, still looking a little flustered. “No, no, it’s okay,” he assured you, a small, warm smile tugging at his lips. “Just… maybe not too sudden next time.”

He leaned a little closer to you, his eyes soft and inviting. “But, if you want to, you can touch them again. Just… be gentle.” His voice had a touch of teasing now, though the hint of bashfulness still lingered in his smile.

NICHOLAS (doberman hybrid) :

You and Nicholas were having a quiet moment together, curled up on the couch with soft music playing in the background. His Doberman hybrid ears were laid back, but they occasionally perked up at certain sounds. Without thinking, your hand reached out, brushing against the tips of his ears, the fur soft and surprisingly warm beneath your fingers.

Nicholas froze. His eyes widened just slightly, and for a split second, he looked like he wasn’t sure how to react. The usual calmness in his expression flickered, replaced by something almost playful, but a little guarded.

You pulled your hand back, ready to apologize, but Nicholas was already looking at you with a faint grin tugging at his lips, his gaze softening. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he murmured, his voice smooth, but there was a slight rasp to it as he cleared his throat.

His ears twitched, flicking towards you as he adjusted himself on the couch, a little more aware of the contact. “That… was unexpected,” he said, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. His normally composed demeanor shifted, just a little. “But I guess it’s okay.”

He met your gaze, his smile turning more playful. “But next time,” he added, his voice dipping into a teasing tone, “don’t be so quick to pull away. I don’t bite… unless you ask nicely.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the warmth in his expression making you feel more at ease. Nicholas leaned in just a little closer, his hand brushing against yours, his gaze still playful but also full of affection.

“Just know,” he said softly, “those ears are sensitive. So if you want to touch them again, you’ll have to earn it.”

EJ (sloth hybrid) :

It was a lazy afternoon, and you and EJ were lounging together in the living room. He had his head rested against the couch, eyes closed as he relaxed, the soft sound of his steady breathing filling the quiet room. His sloth bear-like ears twitched every now and then, and you couldn’t help but notice how adorable they were.

Curiosity got the better of you, and without thinking too much, you reached out gently and brushed your fingers against the soft fur of one of his ears.

EJ’s eyes shot open, and his body tensed for a brief moment, startled by the unexpected touch. He quickly relaxed, though, and a soft blush crept across his face. He turned his head slowly to meet your gaze, his large sloth bear ears flicking in response to your touch.

“Y.. You know,” he stammered, clearing his throat, “I didn't expect that”

His voice was soft, and his hand instinctively went up to touch his ear, as if to confirm that it was real and not some trick of his imagination. His usual calm demeanor was shaken just a little, and you could see his cheeks reddening in a way that was both endearing and surprising.

“Do they… feel strange?” you asked, trying to hide your grin.

EJ’s face softened, and he gave a sheepish smile. “Not at all,” he replied quietly. “Just… different.” His gaze lingered on your hand, and he reached out slowly to place his hand over yours, pressing it gently against the base of his ear. “But if you want to, you can touch them more.”

His voice was quieter now, almost shy, as though the vulnerability of having someone so close to his sensitive ears was making him feel exposed, but in a good way. He was still a bit flustered, but there was a sense of warmth in his eyes, something that showed he trusted you.

YUMA (ermine hybrid) :

You and Yuma had been spending the afternoon together, talking about all sorts of things, from his latest fashion ideas to the newest songs he had been working on. His usual relaxed demeanor was softened by the quiet, cozy atmosphere around you both.

As he leaned back, adjusting his position, his soft ermine ears peeked out from under his hair, twitching slightly with every small sound in the room. You couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch one of them gently. Your fingers brushed against the soft fur, and you immediately felt a slight warmth under your touch.

Yuma froze for a second, his eyes widening a little in surprise. He blinked, then looked at you with an almost mischievous glint in his eyes. His lips curved into a small smile, and he playfully leaned in closer, his ear twitching again as if teasing you.

“Ah, so you like my ears, huh?” he said with a smirk, his voice carrying a hint of teasing.

You laughed softly, a little embarrassed by his reaction. “I didn’t mean to surprise you,” you murmured, your hand lingering near his ear.

Yuma chuckled, his playful attitude not fading. “It’s fine,” he said, gently pulling your hand towards his ear again, “You can touch them more if you want.”

He seemed completely unfazed by the touch now, and there was a warmth in his voice, though his usual confidence was mixed with a small amount of shyness you hadn’t expected. As you gently stroked his ear again, his eyes softened, and he let out a contented sigh.

“You’re the first to do that,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “It’s… kind of relaxing.”

You smiled, a little proud of how comfortable he’d become. He seemed to enjoy the attention, despite the initial surprise, and you could tell that his fondness for you had only grown stronger as the moment passed. His ears gave another little twitch, but this time it felt more like an invitation, one that he was happy to share with you.

JO (arctic fox hybrid) :

It had been a long day, and you and Jo found yourselves in a quiet spot, just enjoying each other’s company. The room was peaceful, a soft light casting a warm glow around you both. You were seated next to him on the couch, chatting about everything and nothing, when your eyes wandered to the small, fluffy ears poking out from his hair.

Jo had always been soft-spoken, and his gentle nature made him the kind of person you could comfortably be around. His Arctic fox ears, usually hidden beneath his hair, were now more visible, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to reach out and touch them.

As your fingers gently grazed his ear, you felt him freeze for a moment, his body going still, before he glanced at you. His expression softened as if unsure how to react at first. “Uh…” he started, his voice quieter than usual, “What are you…?”

Your touch had been gentle, more out of curiosity than anything else. His ears, soft and slightly fuzzy, felt surprisingly delicate beneath your fingers. You smiled nervously, unsure of what to expect.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” you said quickly, pulling your hand back, suddenly worried.

But Jo immediately shook his head, a small, shy smile spreading across his face. “No, it’s not that,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It just surprised me, that’s all.”

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue. He hesitated for a moment, then gently placed his hand over yours, guiding it back toward his ear.

“Go ahead,” he said, his tone now gentle but filled with a quiet request, “I don’t mind.”

Your heart warmed at his willingness, and you began to gently stroke the soft fur of his ear again. This time, Jo closed his eyes for a brief second, his body relaxing as if enjoying the sensation. His usual shyness seemed to melt away, replaced by a peaceful, almost content expression.

“Feels nice,” he murmured, barely audible.

As you continued, you noticed how his ears twitched slightly in response to your touch, his soft breath coming out in a steady, relaxed rhythm. Jo’s usual reserved demeanor was still there, but there was a hint of comfort in the way he let you interact with him, something deeper than you had ever seen before.

He glanced at you with a quiet but tender look. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth.

You smiled, feeling a sense of closeness with him. It was rare to see Jo so relaxed and open, and it felt special that you were the one to bring that out in him.

HARUA (bunny hybrid) :

You and Harua were relaxing together, the atmosphere peaceful and easy. His bunny ears twitched slightly, reacting to the sounds around you both, but he seemed completely at ease in your company.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you couldn’t resist reaching out to touch his soft bunny ears. Gently, you brushed your fingers against one of them.

Harua froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly in surprise, but instead of pulling back, he simply looked at you with a soft, amused smile. “You’re curious, huh?” he said quietly, his voice warm but relaxed.

You quickly withdrew your hand, feeling a little self-conscious. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. “No need to apologize,” he replied, his gaze soft and understanding. “They’re sensitive, but it’s fine.” His voice was calm, and he seemed to appreciate the attention, despite the initial surprise.

You hesitated, unsure if you should try again, but Harua gave you a reassuring smile. “If you want, you can touch them. Just… be gentle,” he added with a small grin, clearly not as shy about it now.

With a nod, you reached out again, this time moving carefully. Your fingers brushed against the soft fur of his ear, and you could feel it twitch slightly under your touch. Harua’s expression softened, and he closed his eyes for a moment, a small sigh escaping him.

“That feels nice,” he said, his voice more confident now, though there was still a hint of sweetness in it. “You don’t have to worry, I’m fine with it.”

You smiled, continuing to gently stroke his ear. Harua seemed to relax, his usual shyness replaced by the quiet enjoyment of the moment. His bunny ears twitched again, this time more contentedly, and you could tell he appreciated the gentleness with which you were touching them.

“Thanks,” he murmured softly, his voice calm and pleasant as he settled into the moment. “It’s nice, really.”

You smiled warmly at him, feeling a deeper connection between you two, as the simple act of touching his bunny ears created a quiet, comfortable bond.

TAKI (otter hybrid) :

It was a lazy afternoon, and you and Taki were lounging by the river, enjoying the sound of water flowing nearby. Taki’s carefree nature was always a comfort, and you couldn’t help but notice how his otter ears twitched when the breeze blew through them and his eyes closed as he rested.

Curious, you reached out carefully, brushing your fingers against the small, round ears on top of his head. Taki immediately froze, his peaceful expression morphing into one of surprise.

“Hey!” he said with a light laugh, his voice a mix of amusement and mild shock. “What are you doing?”

You quickly pulled your hand back, apologizing with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t mean to surprise you, I just… wanted to see how your ears felt.”

Taki blinked for a moment, his surprise quickly melting into a grin. “You can touch them, you know,” he said, his voice full of mischief, as he leaned in slightly, giving you a playful look. “But I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

You raised an eyebrow, half curious and half hesitant. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course!” He said, his voice warm but still teasing. “I’m not that shy, you know. Just—” He reached up and swatted his own ear with a playful grin. “Be gentle, alright?”

Encouraged, you reached out again, this time more cautiously. As your fingers touched the soft, velvety fur of his ear, Taki let out a small, almost purring sound, his body relaxing under your touch. His ear twitched in response to your fingers, and you could feel the subtle vibration from the movement.

“Ahh, that feels good,” Taki sighed with a grin, his voice light and playful. “Who knew you’d be so gentle?” His mischievous side was still there, but there was a soft warmth to his expression now, as if he was enjoying the attention in his own way.

You smiled, continuing to lightly stroke his ear. Taki’s face softened, and he let out a quiet hum of contentment. “Guess you’ve got a good touch,” he said, his voice almost teasing but with a sincere appreciation. “Maybe next time you can do it while I’m awake, huh?”

Laughing, you continued, enjoying the peaceful moment with Taki. His playful otter nature made everything lighthearted, but you could tell he was fond of the attention, even if he tried to act all tough.

He nudged you gently with his elbow. “But just so you know… I can be the one giving the ear rubs too, okay?”

You laughed again, a smile stretching across your face as Taki’s playful energy filled the space around you. It was a small, silly moment, but it made the bond between you feel that much warmer.

MAKI (golden retriever hybrid) :

You and Maki were sitting on the couch, chatting about random things, when you noticed the way his golden retriever ears perked up with every sound in the room. They twitched at the slightest noise, and you couldn’t resist.

Carefully, you reached out and brushed your fingers against the soft fur of his ear. The moment your touch made contact, Maki’s whole body stiffened for a second, his eyes widening as his attention focused on the sensation. He blinked, clearly surprised by the sudden interaction, but then his lips curled into a soft, amused smile.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice teasing but not upset.

You laughed a little, surprised at how sensitive his ears seemed to be. “I just wanted to see how soft they are…”

Maki’s smile deepened, and he shifted, sitting up a little straighter. “Well, you’re right. They’re pretty soft,” he said, his voice warmer now, a little more relaxed. “But, uh, I’m not used to people just touching them, you know?”

You apologized, pulling your hand back quickly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. But Maki immediately stopped you, placing his hand over yours. “No, no, it’s fine. You’re just… not the first person to touch them,” he said, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. “But it’s just a bit, uh, unexpected.”

He looked at you then, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned toward you, his golden retriever ears flopping a little as he moved. “But now that you’ve touched them, don’t you think you should… you know… keep doing it? You’re kind of making me curious now.”

You raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Curious?”

“Yeah,” Maki said, his voice suddenly a little more mischievous. “Curious to see if I’ll let you keep petting them.”

You reached out again, this time more slowly, and gently ran your fingers along the soft, velvety ear. Maki closed his eyes briefly, a contented sigh slipping from his lips. “Ahh… that feels really nice,” he said, his voice a little more relaxed, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders melting away.

You smiled at his reaction, enjoying the warmth he radiated, and continued petting his ear, noting how his ears twitched slightly with every touch.

“I guess I can’t complain if it feels this good,” Maki said with a grin, opening his eyes to look at you. “But you’re not gonna go around doing this to everyone, right? You’re only allowed to do this to me,” he added with a teasing wink.

You chuckled at his words, the bond between you growing with every moment. His playful yet affectionate personality shone through, making it clear that he didn’t mind the attention—he actually seemed to crave it, in his own unique way.

Word count : 3222 | serapharua, 2024.

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000-dotz · 7 months ago

Note

Omggg I’m so excited seeing another &Team account ❤️❤️❤️

Do you have any thoughts about making out with Jo or just Jo thoughts in general? ❤️❤️

(happy late bday to jojo ily) okay so i've been so obsessed with jo's lips lately, like they're so full and pretty <\3 his little beauty marks are so kissable, and i think he'd get so flustered when you kiss them... like if you suddenly lean in to peck the little mole above his lip, he'd freeze and blink at you for a second because his brain is trying to process what just happened!!! and then he'd smile all shyly, giggling when you do it again and again until you topple over, you body falling on top of his. his hands would immediately land on your hips to steady you, his chest rising and falling as he searches your eyes to see if you want more—and when he finds his answer, one of his hands moves to the back of your neck to pull you back down to his soft lips, one of his legs slipping inbetween yours as he kisses you like you're his last meal ><

#dotz is online...💐#jo imagines #&team hard hours #can't tell if this is hard or soft because everything he does is so cute to me #⋆ jo

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cumironi · 6 months ago

Text

FIGHT HER BOYFRIEND FOR ME?!

𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. ⲷ umemiya hajime, togame jo, sakura haruka, suo hayato.

𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳. you got into a fight with a girl and you told your boyfriend to fight her boyfriend.

ⵌ UMEMIYA HAJIME

you, umemiya hajime’s spoiled little girlfriend, burst through the rooftop door with a loud bang, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet space. without hesitation, you make a sharp left turn, your footsteps heavy and quick. as you round the corner, you spot the first-year students, hiragi and your beloved boyfriend, umemiya hajime. they're both crouched down, deeply engrossed in tending to hajime's collection of potted plants, oblivious to your presence.

your sudden and forceful entrance startles the boys, causing them to jump. hajime's eyes widen in concern as he takes in your appearance. your uniform is disheveled, the buttons misaligned, and your tie askew. a few dark smudges mark your cheeks, and there are several fresh scratches on your face, evidence of a recent scuffle. your hair is messy, strands falling out of place, and your breathing is heavy, as if you've been running.

hajime quickly stands up, his usually calm and collected demeanor replaced with worry. “what happened to you?” he asks, his voice filled with concern. hiragi stands beside him, equally alarmed, glancing between you and hajime, waiting for an explanation.

hajime's eyes immediately darted to your disheveled appearance, taking in the disarray of your uniform and the fresh marks on your face. concern etched itself across his features as he quickly sprung to his feet, his usual composure replaced with a tinge of worry and unease.

as he reached you, he gently reached out to cup your face in his hands, his touch tender yet firm as he examined the scratches on your skin. his voice was gentle and questioning as he asked, “what happened? who did this to you?” he pulls you to sit on the picnic table along with the first year— suo, sakura, and nirei that just look at you curiously.

“hiragi, can you go and get the first aid kit from the infirmary please?” the blonde nods and hurriedly dashes off to get the first aid kit. hajime then turns his attention back to you, a mixture of worry and anger on his face.

“who did this to you?” he asked once again. but for someone who looks like just got into a fight, you look rather excited than scared. you shift your position to face your boyfriend, “babe, there is a fucking bitch that i just had a fight with and i need you to fight her stupid boyfriend,” your voice echoes across the rooftop without answering your boyfriend, excitedly.

hajime's expression switches from worry to confusion then to annoyance. “are you serious right now? you just got into a fight and now you want me to fight someone else?” he lets out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. his annoyance is clear as day, evident in his tone, but underneath it, there's a hint of amusement.

“did you really have to get in another fight? And why do you sound so happy about it?”

“do you at least win?” sakura who sits in front of you ask, genuinely curious. doesn't really care the glaring of his leader.

“obviously? that bitch cried and called her boyfriend, fucking pussy,” you stopped for a moment to give suo a high five, the eye-patch boy clearly happy when he looking at you like a dad proud of his daughter before you look at your boyfriend, “that's why baby, you have to fight her boyfriend,” you continue.

hajime‘s annoyance only increases at your nonchalant attitude towards the fight. although a part of him is secretly impressed by your fighting skills, he's trying very hard not to show it. you, out of all the people, he doesn't want to be influenced by anything violence, he just want to keep you the way you are despite how he live his life, just be his little spoiled girlfriend.

“seriously? you got into a fight, won, and now you want me to fight her boyfriend? do you just enjoy getting into fights or something?” he sighs again before speaking again. “and did you really have to call her a pussy?” you snort after hearing the last question before looking at the three musketeers— suo, sakura and nirei, thinking that your boyfriend is so oblivious to asking something as transparent as air.

“because she's a pussy? why she call her boyfriend that, by the way looks like a fucking dying cockroach, to fight with me.” hajime's annoyance turns to slight disbelief at your bluntness. it's a trait he's slowly grown accustomed to, but at times it still catches him off guard. he glances at the three first years who are trying to hold back their laughter.

“a dying cockroach? really, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice tinged with both amusement and disbelief. “do you always have to insult people like that?” he shakes his head, slightly amused by your honesty, but still annoyed that you got into yet another fight.

e glances at the first years before looking back at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and slight admiration. “but fine, let me get this straight. you beat up a girl, won, and now want me to fight some guy just because you beat up his girlfriend?”

you look at him puzzle, “yeah?”

hajime can't help but chuckle at your direct answer. he runs a hand through his hair, struggling to keep a serious face. “you know, most girls would be scared or upset after getting into a fight. but no, not you. you're sitting here asking me to fight the boyfriend of the girl you just beat up. you're something else, you know that?”

he sighs again but this time a small smile appears on his lips.

ⵌ SAKURA HARUKA

you open the door to sakura's classroom, immediately scanning the room for your boyfriend, who is in the middle of a conversation with his friends.

the moment you step inside, the room falls silent, and all eyes turn to you, including your boyfriend's. his cheeks flush a bright red when he sees you.

“y/n what—”

“i need you to fight this bitch’s boyfriend right now,” you cut his words. shock and confusion immediately wash over his face at your words. he blinks a few times, trying to grasp the situation.

“huh?!”

he glances around at his friends, their eyes wide with surprise at your sudden appearance. he then looks back at you, a mix of worry and confusion on his face as he walks over to you. “why do i need to fight someone's boyfriend? what the hell happened?” he is standing in front of you, palm touching your elbow softly.

“she said you're too pussy to fight her ugly ass boyfriend and said you were short.”

sakura's expression hardened at that comment from you. he hated being called 'pussy'— he was far away from pussy, and his height was a touchy subject for him, having been bullied for it for years.

your boyfriend clenched his hands into fists, a mix of anger and determination crossing his face as he looked at you. “she dared me to fight her boyfriend, huh? and said i was short, huh? who the hell does she think she is? and her boyfriend agreed?” he clenched his fists tightly, a mixture of anger and disbelief on his face.

“they're going to regret talking trash about me,” he muttered, his eyes hardening with determination. sakura's expression darkened further as he clenched his fists tighter.

“yeah, she did. and her boyfriend agreed with her. they both think they can get away with talking trash about us like that,” you purposely fuel your boyfriend's anger with more gasoline, smiling. he gritted his teeth, anger and determination in his eyes, “but they won't. we're gonna show them just how wrong they are.”

“come on, baby, let's fuck this fuckers,” he grabs your hand and walk out of the classroom. sakura's grip tightened around your hand as he walked out of the classroom, nirei's protests falling on deaf ears. sou followed behind with a smile on his face, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

sakura's steps were quick and determined, his eyes focused on the challenge ahead. he was ready to teach that girl and her boyfriend a lesson they'd never forget.

ⵌ TOGAME JO

the flat electronic pressed against your ear as you try to call your boyfriend. first ringing.. second ringing.. and you can hear his lazy voice from the other side.

“what is it babe?” he asked.

“jo, i got into a fight with this girl and i need you to fight her boyfriend for me,” you said.

he chuckled from the other side of the phone. his voice was still tired but it sounded like he was in a good mood. togame let out a soft sigh before standing up straight and crossed his arms, leaning back against the fence. he raised an eyebrow at your words.

“so you want me to go hunt down some guy because you got into a fight with his girl?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice as he pushed his round, yellow-tinted glasses back. “how strong is he?”

“i don't know jo, but he looks like a fucking lizard,” you groan in annoyance as your mind wonder back to few moments ago when you first saw the boyfriend. once again, you cringing, thinking how his already bad-looking face isn't going to worth looking at all after getting a kiss by your boyfriend fist.

he let out a low chuckle at your description of the guy. “you really have a way with words, don't you doll?” he teased. he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back before he spoke again. “so where did you see him last?” you can hear a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“just meet me under the bridge, i'm already here.”

togame let out a slight scoff at your straight-to-the-point order, but he couldn't help but smirk. you always knew how to be direct, it was one of the things he liked about you.

“fine, fine. i'm on my way.” he replied. there was a hint of playful annoyance in his voice but he was already heading towards the bridge. after a few minutes of waiting, togame finally arrived, walking with his typical nonchalant swagger. he approached you with a lazy grin on his face. “you know, i have better things to do than hunt down lizard boys,” he teased.

you smile the moment his lazy figure is caught by your eyes. you pull him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck and giving the taller boy a kiss. “give me a kiss first,” you mumble on his lips.

togame chuckled as you pulled him closer, clearly enjoying your attention. he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. he playfully rolled his eyes at your request but his smile widened, his voice low when he replied. “that needy already, huh?” he teased before he leaned down and captured your lips in a deep kiss.

the kiss was intense, filled with a mix of desire and playfulness. after a few moments, togame broke the kiss, reluctantly pulling away and chuckled. “you know, i didn't come here to make out with you,” he said in a teasing voice, although he made no move to let go of your waist.

“maybe we should forget about the fight and come to yours instead, hm?” you smiling at him, sweetly and trying to play innocent as your hand caressing the nape of his neck.

togame raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. he knew you were trying to tempt him, and it was working. he pulled you even closer to him, his arms still firmly around your waist, his voice low as he replied. “you really know how to distract me, don't you?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. he looked down at you, his eyes filled with playful temptation. “come on, let's play a fight in your room,” your eyes didn't leave his as you were trying to persuade him.

togame's eyes darkened, his smirk widening as your words sunk in. the thought of a playful fight with you in his room made his heart race. “well, when you put it like that, how can i refuse?“ he replied, his voice still low and seductive. he leaned down and nipped at your earlobe playfully.

“let's go.”

togame grabbed your hand with a firm grip and pulled you forward, walking at a fast pace. he was eager to get you back to his room, the anticipation growing with each moment. he glanced down at you, a sly expression on his face.

“i hope you're prepared to lose, babe.”

oh, you don't mind at all.

ⵌ SUO HAYATO

you walk into the pothos cafe, where suo hayato is sitting with his friends, enjoying their meal together. “baby, we have a situation,” you announce dramatically, arms crossed. he looks up, raising an eyebrow. “what happened?”

“i got into a fight with a girl,” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “and now you need to fight her boyfriend.” suo blinks, his usual calm demeanor slightly shaken with confusion. “wait, what? why do i need to fight her boyfriend?” his friends sitting next to him snicker as their ears perked up in interest.

“why did you even fight her in the first place?” suo questioned you with a slightly confused look, his maroon eye looking at you curiously. you pull out your phone, showing your boyfriend the boy you want him to fight against. “yikes,” he commented the moment he saw the thing on your screen.

“exactly baby, she is using her ugly ass boyfriend to attack me, what a bitch,” you grumble in annoyance. while he was slightly surprised at the size of the guy, he remained quite calm. suo's friends looked at the picture as well and immediately reacted. “damn, even a dog would feel bad for fighting that dude,” one of them laughed loudly— the pink haired one who you don't know what his name is.

he smiles gently at you, and in a soft voice, he reminds you, “baby, that's not a nice thing to say.”

but who is he laying to?

deep down suo's rainbow dictionary cursing the boy, insulting him in the most unexpected and creative way anyone could possibly think. his friends just started to laugh at his gentle attitude, but he ignored them and instead focused on you while his eyes looked you up and down, silently studying any sign of injury.

“you aren't hurt, right?” he asked gently, his eyes showing a hint of worry, but you could clearly tell he was pissed.

his friends snickered at his reaction while continuing to look at the picture. one of them glanced at you, before turning back to suo. “you gotta admit though, that's one bigass guy. it's pretty shitty to use him as muscle against women though. what kind of loser does that?” sakura said, while still examining the picture. “well, he's an even nastier thing to stare at,” you continued with an annoyed look. his friends laughed once again at your words. on the other hand, suo gently patted you on the head with a soft smile.

“be nice, dear,” he teased, pulling you softly by your hands to sit on his lap. he wrapped his arms around you while his friends continued to snicker at the sight of the two of you. he placed his chin on your shoulder as he continued to look over you for any signs of injury.

“what did you fight her over anyway?” he asked.

“nothing crazy,” you explained, “I was just walking past her, and she made some rude comments, and things escalated. I didn't even do anything wrong, but it seems like she couldn't handle a little confrontation.” he nodded as he listened to your explanation, the grip on you tighening slightly. “so she just started it for no reason?” he questioned, although you could tell he knew the answer.

“yeah,” you nodded.

you turn your head to face the eye-patch boy, “so?” ask him curiously, even tho you know there's almost zero chance he would fight the boy. you're safe in his arm, no injury, there is no need to fight and makes things worse. he remained silent as he seemed to be in deep thought, and his friends sat there silently as well, awaiting his response. finally after a moment, he sighed softly.

“baby, I'm not gonna fight him.”

you groan, rolling your eyes as you let out a sigh as you know your boyfriend too well, “oh come on, we can make it like a little date.” he raised an eyebrow, amused. his friends also seemed amused that you actually thought you could get him to agree, but he humored you anyway.

“a date? In what universe is fighting another guy on a date a good idea?” he questioned while his grip on you remained firm. again, a soft groan leaving your lips, “ugh, you suck.” you turn around and give him your back as you rest your chin on top of your hands laying flat on the table.

his friends snickered gently as they witnessed your interaction, clearly enjoying the moment. suo smiled while his eyes looked at you with a mixture of amusement and irritation. his hand gently patted your back as he spoke, “baby, don't pout. you know I'm not going to fight him.”

your eyes meet sakura's figure as he busy himself with omurice in front of him. “how about you, sakura? wanna be my boyfriend for a day and fight that loser?” you ask.

sakura looked up from his food, raising an eyebrow as he heard your unexpected proposal. he glanced at suo for a moment before looking back at you with a smirk.

“sure, I'll do it,” he said, “it'll be fun to kick someone's ass.”

suo sighs and sips his tea, knowing full well that neither you nor sakura are serious, did he?

sakura continued to eat his food quietly as he smirked slightly, enjoying the situation. meanwhile, you sat there with your back turned to suo, still pouting and feeling disappointed.

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