#or else just going ‘it’s not a big deal’ and talking to fill up space to once again try to distract me

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[j-esbian]

i get annoyed and talk shit but i really am soso grateful for my parents.

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 33: September 2024 - Part 4

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, mention of the loss of a parent.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

The office was quiet, soft. A low hum of air-conditioning filled the silence between words, the kind of ambient white noise that Belle had grown to find oddly comforting. She sat cross-legged on the couch, a mug of chamomile tea cooling in her hands. Simone, always calm, always precise, watched her with an expression that never pushed—but always invited.

“I think it’s… better,” Belle said slowly. “Not fixed. Not even close. But better.”

Simone nodded. “What feels better?”

Belle thought for a moment. “Arthur’s been texting more. Charles and Lorenzo send me links to baby things they think I’ll like. Nothing huge. Just... consistent. Like they’re trying.”

“And how does that feel?”

“Confusing,” Belle said honestly. “Nice, sometimes. Other times I want to scream. But I’m not… shutting them out. Not completely.”

Simone’s gaze softened. “That’s progress.”

“Yeah.” Belle gave a wry smile. “It’s baby steps. My mother sends me articles about parenting now. Like I haven’t already read everything the internet has to offer. But she’s trying.”

“And how does it feel when he does?”

“Complicated,” Belle admitted. “It makes me happy, but it also makes me angry, like—where was this five years ago? Where was this when I needed it?”

Simone nodded once, acknowledging the contradiction without judgment. “You’re allowed to feel both. One doesn’t cancel out the other.”

“I know.” Belle paused. “But I think… I want to keep the door open. Just a little.”

“That sounds brave.”

Belle gave a dry laugh. “It sounds terrifying.”

Simone tilted her head. “Would it help if you had more control over how you let them in?”

Belle looked up. “What do you mean?”

Simone set her notebook gently aside. “What if you invited them to something low-stakes? Something where they’re part of your world, but not the center of it. Somewhere you can set the tone, and where other people are around. Like a buffer.”

Belle blinked. “Like what?”

Simone smiled lightly. “You mentioned Max’s birthday. That you’re planning to decorate the nursery that weekend?”

“Yeah…” Belle’s voice trailed off as the thought formed. “We were going to build the shelves and hang the prints. Nothing fancy. Just… make it feel real.”

“What if you invited your family to be part of that?” Simone asked gently. “Not the whole day. Not a big deal. Just… included.”

Belle was quiet for a moment. “It wouldn’t be about them.”

“Exactly,” Simone said. “It’s about you. Your space. Your child. But it could be a way to let them step into that gently. On your terms.”

“And if it’s awful, I can make Max tell them to leave,” Belle muttered.

Simone smiled. “You’re not alone anymore. That’s the difference.”

Belle stared down into her tea. The idea sat heavily—but not painfully.

Maybe it wasn’t a reconciliation. Maybe it wasn’t forgiveness.

Maybe it was just… the next step.

“Okay,” Belle said softly. “Maybe I’ll ask them.”

Simone nodded, kind and steady. “Only if you want to. You don’t owe anyone a seat in your story. But if you want to hand them a folding chair—they’ll know where to find it.”

Belle snorted. “God, that’s such a therapist metaphor.”

“And yet,” Simone said, eyes twinkling, “you got it immediately.”

Belle smiled, small and tired and real. “I did.”

***

The fan hummed softly overhead. The windows were cracked open just enough to let the night air in, and Belle was half-curled on her side, head resting on Max’s chest, her fingers absently tracing the edge of his shirt.

They were supposed to be asleep. But the baby had kicked just hard enough to startle Belle, and now sleep felt like a distant thought.

“Do you want to keep talking names?” Max asked quietly, not pushing, just offering.

Belle didn’t answer right away. Her fingers paused, then started again. “Maybe.”

Max waited.

“I’ve been thinking about middle names,” she said eventually. “And… I don’t know. I’m stuck.”

“Too many options?” he asked, brushing his hand along her spine.

She shook her head. “Just one. That I keep coming back to.”

Max was quiet, letting her shape the words however she needed to.

“My father’s name,” Belle said softly. “Hervé.”

He didn’t react. Just shifted a little so he could see her face better. “Okay.”

“There’s this… expectation,” she continued. “I haven’t said anything to anyone, but I know. My family will assume we’ll use it. Especially because we are having a boy. It’ll be this unspoken thing that I’m supposed to do.”

Max ran his thumb gently along her arm. “Do you want to?”

Belle was quiet again. “I don’t know.”

And that was the honest truth.

“I loved him,” she said, her voice rough now. “He died when I was nineteen. There’s a part of me that still misses him every day.”

Max’s eyes softened. “I know.”

“But he also…” She swallowed. “He sold Blanche.”

Belle let out a breath. “Sold her. My horse. My best friend. Just—gone. For karting tires. For Charles. And I know it was to help the family, and I know he thought he was doing the right thing. But he never even told me. He didn’t say goodbye. I came home and the stable was just… empty.”

Max didn’t try to fix it. He just leaned in a little, one arm brushing hers. Letting her feel him there.

“So now,” she said, throat tight, “I think of giving our child his name, and there’s this voice in my head saying, you should. That it’s the right thing. That I’ll be ungrateful if I don’t. That everyone will judge me.”

Max reached for her hand and wrapped it gently in his.

“But then,” Belle whispered, “there’s this other part of me that still feels like that girl. Standing in that empty stable. Wondering why I wasn’t enough to keep.”

Silence bloomed between them. Not heavy. Not cold. Just true.

After a moment, Max spoke, voice low but certain. “You don’t owe anyone that name.”

“I know,” she said. “But part of me still wants to give it to the baby. Because he was my dad. Because I did love him. Because it wasn’t all bad.”

She turned to look at Max. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he said immediately. “It’s not stupid. It’s human. He mattered to you. It’s okay that it’s complicated.”

Belle’s eyes glistened. “What if people think I’m being selfish for not using it?”

Max shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Then let them think it. This isn’t about them. It’s about what feels right to you. To us.”

She leaned into him slightly, comforted by the certainty in his voice.

“And Belle,” he added, voice gentler now, “you know Charles or Arthur or maybe even Lorenzo will use the name. One of them will. Hervé will live on, one way or another.”

Belle turned slightly toward him.

“And maybe they should,” Max continued. “Because he had a different meaning to them. Because Hervé was their father too. And that’s their grief to carry, their memory to honor.”

Belle gave a small, tearful laugh. “Arthur will probably make it the kid’s first name and then forget to tell anyone.”

Max smiled. “Exactly. So you don’t have to carry that weight for them. Not this time.”

She nodded, silent again. But this time, it felt less like drowning in indecision and more like finding breath.

He squeezed her hand. “This is our child. And this name? This is yours to choose. Not for tradition. Not for guilt. For love.”

Belle blinked back tears she hadn’t meant to let fall.

Max smiled softly. “If you want to use Hervé, we can. But it doesn’t have to be this time. Or ever. Our baby won’t love you less. He won’t even know unless you choose to tell him.”

Belle exhaled shakily and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Can we just… sit on it for a while?”

“For as long as you want,” Max said. “We’ve got time.”

Belle stayed curled against him, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands had settled over the curve of her belly again, warm and grounding. She didn’t want to break the moment—but she also didn’t want to hold it in anymore.

“There’s something else,” she said quietly.

Max shifted just enough to show he was listening.

“I saw Simone yesterday.”

“Yeah?” he murmured. “How was it?”

“Good,” Belle said. Then, after a pause: “Hard. But good.”

Max waited.

“She brought something up. Something I haven’t stopped thinking about since.”

Max hummed softly, encouragement in sound form.

“She suggested… maybe I invite my family to help with the nursery. On your birthday.”

Max blinked. “Oh.”

“I know that’s not what we planned,” Belle rushed to say. “And it’s totally okay if you don’t want to. Or if it feels like too much. I just—Simone said it might be easier if I let them come when it’s not just about me. When it’s already a full day. Less pressure. Less expectation. More people around.”

She lifted her head slightly to look at him. “Would that be okay?”

Max was quiet for a moment. Not because he was upset—Belle knew his silences now. This one was full of thought, not hesitation.

“I don’t care what my birthday looks like,” he said softly. “As long as you’re okay. If this helps you… if this makes it easier to let them in, even just a little—I’m all for it.”

Belle’s brows knit, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

Max reached up and gently tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m sure.”

She searched his face for any sign of discomfort. There was none.

“I just…” She took a breath. “I don’t want it to become a whole thing. Like—‘we’re all fine now,’ or ‘look how close we are again.’ I’m not there. I’m not even close.”

“You don’t have to be,” Max said. “It doesn’t have to be anything more than a few hours of paint and furniture and wallpaper. If anyone tries to turn it into a redemption arc, I’ll lock them in the garage with Christian.”

Belle laughed wetly, wiping her eyes.

“Let them come,” Max said, gently. “Let them hold a paintbrush and hang some shelves and exist in a space that you created. That we’re building for our son.”

She exhaled slowly, like letting something heavy slide from her shoulders.

“And if at any point it’s too much,” Max added, “just say the word. I’ll fake a plumbing emergency.”

Belle snorted. “A plumbing emergency in a newly built Monaco penthouse?”

He grinned. “I’m very committed to the bit.”

She rested her forehead against his. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me have it both ways,” she said softly. “For letting me try.”

Max’s voice dropped, rough with affection. “I always will.”

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Lando Norris

Max: you’re coming to my birthday next weekend don’t make a face we’re decorating the nursery

Lando: oh thank god i thought you were about to make me wear a button-down and socialize

Max: no button-down just emotional labor and assembling IKEA furniture

Lando: so… worse

Max: also the Leclerc brothers will be there all of them

Lando: MAX NO no no no no no i’m not sitting through Arthur quoting Pinterest at us and Charles making emotionally repressed noises

Max: that’s why i’m texting you i’m not sitting through that alone you’re my support gremlin

Lando: i hate it here

Max: bring a drill and snacks or just stand near me and make fun of Arthur under your breath either works

Lando: i had plans that day

Max: do you even know what day it is

Lando: not the point

***

Text Messages: Lando Norris & Emilie Abadie

Lando: MAX IS MAKING ME GO TO HIS BIRTHDAY NURSERY BUILDING CHAOS THING

Emilie: yes. we are going.

Lando: WHAT WE??

Emilie: yes. You’re not getting out of it. I already RSVP’d for us when Belle mentioned it

Lando: this feels like betrayal

Emilie: it’s community support and if i have to be in the same room as Charles, i’m not doing it alone

Lando: but i was going to play FIFA and ignore my feelings

Emilie: congratulations. now you’ll be building a changing table and confronting emotional growth instead

Lando: i’m calling HR

Emilie: HR said bring cupcakes

***

Text Messages: Lando Norris & Max Verstappen

Lando: we’re coming emilie sold me out

Max: excellent i’ll save you a paint roller

Lando: i hope the baby grows up to be a McLaren fan out of sheer spite

***

Group Chat: WHAT IS HAPPENING

(Members: Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo)

Lando: i need backup this is an emergency

Oscar: hello to you too

Daniel: what did you do now

Lando: MAX invited me to his birthday which is also apparently a nursery decorating session AND THE LECLERCS WILL BE THERE plural. brothers. full trio. mother. no escape

Oscar: so what you’re saying is you’re being forced to be emotionally supportive and also use a screwdriver

Lando: YES emilie said we’re going i didn’t even have a say i was mid toast when she RSVP’d for both of us

Daniel: mate that sounds like a you problem i’m in australia 8,000 miles away UNREACHABLE

Lando: that’s cowardice

Daniel: that’s geography 😌

Lando: oscar please don’t leave me alone with a roll of painter’s tape and charles leclerc talking about childhood trauma

Oscar: unfortunately i have a prior engagement

Lando: you don’t even know what day it is

Oscar: still. engagement confirmed. cannot cancel.

Daniel: i hope they make you do the stenciling

Oscar: i hope you get stuck between Arthur and Jos in a very small room

Lando: i hate both of you i want that on record

Daniel: duly noted, now post pictures of you holding a baby onesie and pretending to care

Oscar: bonus points if you cry during the wallpaper reveal

Lando: this is abuse

Daniel: this is family ❤️

***

Text Messages: Lando Norris & Lily Zneimer

Lando: Lily. Light of Oscar’s life. i need your help.

Lily: what did he do now

Lando: MAX invited us to his birthday slash nursery decorating emotional ambush oscar said he had “a prior engagement” please tell me that’s fake. PLEASE.

Lily: excuse me??? this is the first i’m hearing of it

Lando: I KNEW IT he’s trying to abandon me with a paint roller and charles leclerc’s unresolved childhood trauma

Lily: he said nothing about this we are absolutely going

Lando: thank god you’re my favorite

Lily: i am texting him right now “prior engagement” my ass the engagement is with Belle’s wallpaper

Lando: can i stand next to you the whole time

Lily: yes but only if you bring cupcakes and stop calling it an emotional ambush

Lando: i make no promises

***

Text Messages: Lily Zneimer & Oscar Piastri

Lily: “prior engagement” ??? MAX’S NURSERY DAY IS NEXT WEEKEND AND YOU LIED

Oscar: i didn’t lie i deflected

Lily: we’re going. you’re painting something. lando is emotionally fragile. you are not abandoning him.

Oscar: i regret all of my life choices

***

Text Messages: Oscar Piastri & Lando Norris

Oscar:I hate you.

Oscar:Lily said i have to help you emotionally regulate during baby-themed social situations

***

Leclerc Family Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles, Lorenzo and Pascale)

Belle: Hi everyone— I wanted to let you know that we’re doing some nursery decorating on Max’s birthday. Nothing formal, just paint and furniture and probably chaos. We’ll be at the house all day. If anyone wants to come by and help, you’re welcome.

Belle: No pressure. But… if you want to be part of this, this is a good place to start.

Arthur: i’ll be there!! do i need to bring snacks??

Charles: Thank you for inviting us We’d love to help

Lorenzo: Do you need tools? Or wine?

Belle: both, probably

Pascale: Thank you, ma chérie. I’d love to come. Let me know what you need.

Belle:Just… bring yourselves. And maybe don’t wear white.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Max: just a heads up the entire Leclerc family might be at the house next weekend

Victoria: wait what like… the Leclerc family?

Max: all of them Belle invited them to help with the nursery on my birthday painting. furniture. emotional tension. the works.

Victoria: so… you’re telling me that i need to bring snacks, patience, and a fully charged phone for live updates

Max: absolutely arthur’s already trying to bring snacks so we’ll see how that goes

Max: i’m just warning you there will be wallpaper there will be feelings there may be passive-aggressive screwdriver moments

Victoria: i’m bringing wine and wearing black in case we need to mourn the concept of boundaries

Max: smart also maybe stay near belle just in case she needs backup

Victoria: always

Max: she’s trying so hard i just want it to go okay

Victoria: it will you’ve got me and a surprisingly motivated lando norris, apparently

Max: he’s been emotionally blackmailed into coming it’s beautiful

Victoria: see you there, birthday boy don’t let anyone cry on the crib mattress

Max: no promises

***

Team Redline Stream Transcript

Luke Crane: (laughing) “Okay, okay — last lap, and then serious question time. Max. Birthday boy. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

Max: (without hesitation) “Ah, nothing crazy. My family’s coming over.”

Gianni Vecchio: “So what, big party? Michelin chef? Yacht? Balloons shaped like racing trophies?”

Max:  “No, nothing like that this year.” (pauses, completely deadpan) “We’re doing the nursery.”

(beat of stunned silence)

Chris Lulham: “…You’re doing what?”

Max: (grinning now) “You heard me.”

Chris: “Mate. Like… baby nursery?”

CHAT: 🧡🧡🧡 “Wait. THE NURSERY??” “HELLO???” “Is this how we find out he’s building the baby room???” “MAX. HELLO. BACK UP.” “Soft dad mode ACTIVATED.” “27 and domesticated.” “Say ‘my wife’ next, I dare you.”

Max (nodding, smiling like it’s the best thing in the world): “Yeah. Belle wants everything up before December, so we’re starting now. Wallpaper, furniture, the works. It’s… nice. Feels real.”

Luke: “You’re telling me you, Max Verstappen, multi-time F1 World Champion, are spending your birthday assembling a crib?”

Max: “Yeah. Why not? We’ve got to put up the wallpaper. And the mobile thing. The one with the little monkeys. I have been trying to build the giraffe lamp for three days and failing.”

CHAT: “BELLEEEE 🥺” “JUNGLE. NURSERY. I’M DEAD.” “Wait it’s a jungle theme I can’t breathe that’s so cute.” “HE SAID HER NAME.” “‘My family is coming over’ = wife + baby bump confirmed.” “IKEA collab when.”

Luke:  “Do we get a vlog? A ‘Verstappen Builds a Jungle’ series?”

Max:  “You can come help if you want.”

Luke:  “Absolutely not. I’m not getting blamed if the giraffe ends up upside down.”

Max: (shrugging)  “It’s Belle’s vision. I’m just the assistant. And maybe the muscle.”

Chris:   “Can’t believe the guy who nearly flipped a kart at age nine is excited about monkey mobiles.”

Max:  “Yeah, well. Turns out there are better things than trophies.”

Gianni:  “…you’re telling me your birthday party is IKEA furniture and jungle wallpaper?”

Max (smiling): “Yeah. And honestly? I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Chris: “God, he’s in deep.”

Luke: “Deep? He’s gone. Man said nursery like it was a five-star spa weekend.”

Max: “It kind of is. You don’t know joy until you see Belle looking at stuffed lion.”

Gianni: “Max Verstappen: Three-time World Champion. King of the jungle nursery.”

Max: “Soon-to-be father of one very spoiled, very loved little monkey.”

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/gridwife: MAX VERSTAPPEN SAID “YOU DON’T KNOW JOY UNTIL YOU SEE BELLE LOOKING AT STUFFED LIONS” don’t touch me i’m emotional

@/rbrarchive: i don’t want Drive to Survive i want a 4-part miniseries called “Verstappen Builds a Jungle”

@/formulafem: Belle: “Don’t make it all about me.” Max: “Her name is Belle. She wants monkeys. I love her. My job is giraffe assembly.” 🥹🥹🥹

@/kartsandcookies: Soft dad era Max Verstappen is stronger than any Red Bull aero package. He’s GONE. He’s in the jungle with a mobile in one hand and an allen key in the other.

@/f1contentqueen: We just watched Max Verstappen admit live on stream that he’s building a jungle-themed nursery for his child. On his birthday. Because Belle wants it done before December. Sir. You are the prize.

@/itsgivingdadenergy: 27. Multi-World Champion. Could be celebrating on a yacht. Instead: – Crib assembly – Monkey mobile – Jungle wallpaper – Saying “there are better things than trophies” 🥹

@/alonsohascats: MAX SAID BELLE WANTS “EVERYTHING UP BEFORE DECEMBER” SOFT DEADLINE?? BABY VERSTAPPEN ETA CONFIRMED FOR DECEMBER???? HELLO????

@/verstappenanon: You can actually hear Chris Lulham’s soul leave his body when Max says “the nursery.” I need the highlight reel. I need the full transcript. I need therapy.

@/sheercontent: Please understand that “Soon-to-be father of one very spoiled, very loved little monkey” is now my religion.

@/formulaiconics: Someone asked Max Verstappen what he’s doing for his birthday and he said “assembling jungle furniture for my unborn child.” This man has never been hotter.

@/gridtea: Max: "My family is coming over." Us: oh cute. Max: "We're doing the nursery." Us: EMOTIONAL COLLAPSE

@/carbonsnack:

I regret to inform you that Max Verstappen is so deep in domestic bliss he considers building IKEA furniture a birthday treat.

@/chaosandcarbon:

Max Verstappen, in 2019: “I’m here to win.”

Max Verstappen, in 2024: “I’ve been trying to build the giraffe lamp for three days.”

@/iknowaboutthegiraffelamp

if you’d told me five years ago that Max Verstappen would be losing sleep over a giraffe lamp and grinning about baby mobiles on Twitch I would’ve called you delusional but here we are

***

The plan had been simple.

Paint the nursery. Assemble the crib. Maybe hang the curtains. A cozy afternoon with a few close people.

Instead, there were 20 humans, two stepladders, a very suspicious IKEA instruction manual, and one giraffe lamp with a death wish.

***

In one corner of the nursery:

“Don’t force it,” Lily said calmly, crouched beside Oscar as she braced the neck of the lamp, her fingers steady against the ceramic.

“I’m not,” Oscar replied, tone even, brows furrowed in concentration as he adjusted the internal wiring with surgical precision. “But whoever assembled this originally had a deep disregard for physics. Possibly also sanity.”

Lily glanced at him, amused. “So Max, then.”

He gave her a long, unimpressed look. “Do you want the giraffe to work or not?”

She held up one hand in surrender but didn’t let go of the lamp. “Please continue your delicate surgery, Doctor Piastri.”

Oscar muttered something under his breath about hostile work environments, but his hands were careful, his focus razor-sharp. Despite the chaos unfolding around them—Arthur dropping wallpaper paste on the floor, Charles reading the instructions upside down, Lando declaring himself a “pattern expert”—the corner they’d carved out for themselves was oddly peaceful.

They’d been working on the lamp for nearly twenty minutes. Rewiring the socket, re-aligning the brass hardware, and gluing down a chip in the giraffe’s ear with Lily’s travel-sized nail glue. The giraffe’s head, slightly cocked to the side, had a vaguely judgmental expression, as if it, too, was questioning every decision that had led to this moment.

It fit right in.

“There,” Oscar said finally, sitting back on his heels. “Moment of truth.”

He reached up and flipped the switch.

The giraffe’s eyes lit up—literally. Two soft golden bulbs nestled behind the ceramic pupils flickered to life, casting a warm, slightly eerie glow around the corner of the nursery.

Lily gasped, delighted. “It’s majestic.”

Oscar tilted his head. “It’s deeply unsettling.”

“Majestically unsettling,” she corrected. “I’m naming him Gerard.”

Oscar blinked. “Gerard?”

She nodded, solemn. “He’s seen things. He has opinions. He’s here to supervise.”

Oscar glanced at the giraffe’s glowing face and then at Lily. “We’re not keeping this in the corner. It’s going next to the changing table. That way the baby can meet Gerard during every diaper change.”

“Perfect,” Lily said. “An early lesson in judgment and accountability.”

They both laughed, low and warm, the kind of laugh that comes from knowing each other too well and still liking what they find.

Across the room, Belle caught the glow out of the corner of her eye and smiled. “Did you fix it?”

Oscar looked up. “Gerard lives.”

Belle blinked. “You named the lamp?”

Lily patted Gerard on the head. “He named himself.”

Max, overhearing, just said, “If that lamp judges me at 3am while I’m trying to swaddle a screaming child, I’m throwing it in the bin.”

Oscar stood, dusting off his hands. “He’d survive. Gerard has strong main character energy.”

***

In another corner of the nursery:

“Okay,” Alexandra said, holding up a brass knob shaped like a monkey. “We’ve got a giraffe, an elephant, a lion, a hippo, and this little guy. Rank them in order of jungle superiority.”

“Giraffe wins for drama,” Emilie said, without looking up as she carefully smoothed down a tiny cotton onesie covered in embroidered leaves. “Monkeys are too chaotic. They’re basically Lando with a tail.”

Charlotte, on her knees by the partially assembled dresser, looked up with a grin. “So lion goes in the center drawer. Obviously. Power placement.”

“Agreed,” Alexandra said, already unscrewing the generic silver knobs from the dresser Max had built three weeks ago and left in ‘temporary, totally functional’ mode. “This child will be raised with aesthetics and authority.”

“Also, do we alphabetize the clothes?” Charlotte asked, holding up a delicate pale green muslin romper. “Or organize by size? Or by outfit vibe?”

Emilie blinked. “Is… outfit vibe a category?”

Charlotte shrugged. “If it’s not, I’m inventing it. Look at this cardigan. It’s giving ‘baby goes to brunch.’ This one?” She held up a tiny zip-up hoodie with bear ears. “This is ‘baby goes camping but stylishly.’”

Alexandra held up a pair of overalls the size of a dinner napkin. “This is ‘baby is emotionally prepared for tax season.’”

Emilie snorted. “Belle is going to walk in here and either cry from joy or immediately revoke our access to her child’s wardrobe.”

“I’m betting on both,” Charlotte said.

They laughed, quietly, gently, surrounded by soft fabrics and the scent of wood polish. Emilie reached for the drawer handles and began screwing on the animal knobs—giraffe on the top left, lion in the middle, elephant bottom right. It was absurd how satisfying it felt.

“Does this feel… real to you?” Alexandra asked after a moment, her voice a little softer now. “Like… Belle is having a baby.”

Emilie paused, hand resting on the edge of the dresser. “Sometimes, no. And then I fold a pair of newborn socks and remember that a tiny person is going to wear them.”

Charlotte added, “A tiny person with Max Verstappen’s DNA. Which means we’re probably going to have to baby-proof the sim rig by month four.”

Emilie smiled, but her eyes were warm. “They’re going to be so good at this.”

“They already are,” Alexandra said.

Emilie screwed in the last knob—a hippo, slightly crooked, just enough to be charming.

“Done,” she announced.

Charlotte leaned over to inspect. “That hippo is judging me.”

“Perfect,” Emilie said, sitting back on her heels. “He and Gerard the giraffe lamp can have meetings.”

***

In another corner: 

It was supposed to be a straightforward job.

 One wall.

Four panels of jungle-themed wallpaper.

An afternoon of light banter and bonding.

Instead, it had become a cautionary tale about letting three Leclercs, two Verstappens and a chaos-addicted McLaren driver do anything involving measurements.

“Okay,” Max said through gritted teeth, holding the smoothing tool in one hand and a strip of wallpaper in the other, “this is the last panel. We just need to line it up with the tree trunk on the previous one.”

Charles leaned in, squinting. “It’s already misaligned.”

“I haven’t even put it on the wall yet, Charles.”

Arthur, standing precariously on the second ladder with a glue brush in one hand and his phone flashlight in the other, said, “It’s the giraffe that’s off. Look. Its legs don’t line up.”

Lando, sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaned back slowly until he was lying flat, arms splayed out dramatically. “I could be anywhere else. I could be in Bali. Or dead. Either would be better than this.”

“You’re not helping,” Max muttered.

“I told you I wasn’t helping,” Lando said, voice muffled by the carpet. “I was promised cake and low-stakes birthday vibes. Not psychological warfare disguised as home improvement.”

Lorenzo sighed loudly. “I said we should’ve started with the right side and worked left. But nooo, Arthur had a system.”

Arthur looked offended. “My system was logical!”

Jos, standing by the door like a deeply disappointed god, crossed his arms. “Your system has resulted in two upside-down leaves, a floating lemur, and ten minutes of arguing about tree trunks.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “We wouldn’t be arguing if people listened to me when I said we needed a laser level.”

“NO ONE OWNS A LASER LEVEL, CHARLES,” Max snapped, eyes wild.

“I do,” Jos said, calmly.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“What?” he asked. “I like precision.”

Lando groaned from the floor. “I’m going to fake an injury. Someone drop a bookshelf on me.”

“Can we please just get this on the wall before my son graduates university?” Max asked, voice climbing into a pitch usually reserved for pit wall frustration.

Jos stepped forward silently and took the smoothing tool from Max’s hand.

“Oh, thank god,” Lando muttered.

With terrifying precision, Jos adjusted the paper, ran the tool down the seam, and stepped back. It was perfectly aligned.

No one said a word for a full five seconds.

Then Jos, still deadpan, muttered, “It’s like working with unmedicated squirrels.”

Arthur snorted.

Lorenzo looked personally wounded.

Charles opened his mouth and wisely closed it again.

Max dragged a hand down his face. “Why did I think this was a good idea?”

Lando, now half-asleep on the floor: “Because you love Belle. It’s always because you love Belle.”

Jos handed the smoothing tool back to Max and walked out without a word.

A moment of silence followed.

Then Arthur said, “Should we… fix the lemur?”

Max turned slowly. “If you touch that wall again, I’m using your face to test the crib mattress.”

***

In another corner: 

The nursery was full of chaos—ladders, laughter, half-screwed drawer knobs, wallpaper that had probably driven someone to therapy. So Belle had retreated to the sun-drenched living room with a basket of baby clothes and a folding station made out of the coffee table. Victoria helping her sort the clothing by size. 

Sophie knelt near the bookshelf, methodically stacking picture books and board games by theme and height. Pascale perched neatly on the edge of the armchair, holding a cup of herbal tea. 

In the hallway just outside, the sounds of chaos filtered in: a thump, a shout, and the unmistakable hiss of an offended cat.

“I said don’t chase Sassy with the tambourine!” Tom called, exasperated.

“We’re not chasing it, we’re guiding her with sound!” one of the children yelled back.

Victoria winced. “That’s the third time today.”

Belle sighed.  “She’ll live. Granted, she’ll loudly complain to Max this evening, but she’ll survive. ”

They shared a smile, the kind of tired, knowing thing women passed between each other without words.

The conversation drifted toward baby names as Belle started sorting through the pile of baby clothing.

“We’ve narrowed it down,” she said casually, “but we’re still thinking about middle names.”

“Have you considered something from your side of the family?” Victoria asked gently.

Pascale perked up immediately, voice sweet with just the faintest edge of expectation. “I always thought Hervé would be such a lovely tribute.”

The words hung in the air.

Belle’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. “Yes,” she said, carefully. “We’ve talked about it.”

“I just think,” Pascale continued, smiling, “it would be such a nice way to honor your father. Especially since it’s a boy. Your father would’ve been so proud.”

Sophie, without looking up from her espresso, said, “Would he?”

Pascale blinked. “Excuse me?”

Sophie set her cup down and looked up slowly, voice as calm and cutting as a fine blade. “You speak as if love and grief are simple. As if honoring someone is a duty, not a choice.”

Belle’s breath hitched, just slightly.

“He was her father,” Pascale said, defensively.

“Yes,” Sophie said. “And he made choices that hurt her. That shaped her. That took something from her she never got back. That doesn’t make him a villain. But it does make this complicated.”

“I’m not saying he was perfect,” Pascale said stiffly. “But he was part of her.”

“And she’s allowed to decide which parts she wants to pass on,” Sophie said. “You may think you’re asking for a tribute. But what she hears is a demand.”

Pascale fell quiet. Not insulted. Just… still. Like someone who’d finally heard something that made the ground tilt.

Belle didn’t speak. She just folded a blanket slowly, fingers steady even though her throat was tight.

Sophie’s voice softened. “If Belle chooses that name, it should be because it brings her peace. Not because she feels indebted to grief.”

Victoria reached out and gently squeezed Belle’s hand.

And then—quietly, almost too quiet to hear—Pascale said, “I never thought of it like that.”

Belle looked up.

Pascale swallowed. “I just… I thought I was helping. I thought keeping his name alive meant something. But maybe I was asking her to carry something I should’ve been carrying myself.”

Sophie nodded, sitting back. “Then perhaps now, you can start letting her choose her own way to remember him.”

***

Instagram Stories: @/victoriaverstappen

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/sportschaosnet max verstappen going from “i don’t need friends” to “i have a jungle-themed nursery and a sister who writes poetry about it” is MY roman empire

@/OscarHardLaunch MAX HAS A NURSERY THERE IS A JUNGLE THEMED NURSERY THE CATS HAVE BEEN DEFEATED THE ERA HAS BEGUN

@/wheresthedrama Studio_B tag = BELLE IS THE DESIGNER = Max Verstappen’s wife is actually an interior architect with immaculate taste Do not speak to me I’m in mourning for my own walls

@/featherandfuel “Happy birthday, Max. You picked the best kind of life.” HELLO???? I’M CRYING IN TARGET

@/MaxVerstappenDefenseSquad can’t believe max verstappen’s redemption arc includes a eucalyptus mobile, a giraffe lamp, and an younger sister who now speaks in emotional prose

@/charlesgirliesunite i just know charles walked into that nursery and immediately questioned every aesthetic choice he’s ever made

@/formulalatte tbh the only thing more powerful than belle’s design taste is victoria's commitment to chaos. what do you mean “objective: avoid punching my brother” girl HELP

@/verstappenupdates victoria tagging @studio_b like belle isn't her sister-in-law and bestie now LMAOOO supportive queen

@/circuithearts max verstappen having a jungle nursery and victoria getting emotional about it was not on my 2024 bingo card but I’m here for the domestic era

@/softerverstappen “Happy Birthday, Max. You picked the best kind of life.” i am on the FLOOR. this is max’s roman empire.

***

The house was quiet. Max had gone out for a drive to clear his head after dinner, and the chaos of the day—the laughter, the teasing, the wallpaper war—had finally settled into a gentle hum in Belle’s memory.

She sat cross-legged on the rug in the half-lit nursery, a notepad resting on her knee. The giraffe lamp—Gerard—cast a golden glow over the list of names she’d scribbled and rewritten so many times the page had started to wrinkle.

She wasn’t even pretending to be objective anymore. The list was chaotic. A mix of classic and unusual, soft and strong. Names Max had liked. Names Belle had dismissed. Names from books. Names from nowhere.

And again—again—her pen landed on the same one.

Emilian.

She wrote it down softly. Fourth time this week.

She didn’t say it out loud. Didn’t need to. Just traced the letters, over and over, until the ink deepened and the paper thinned beneath it.

It was Max’s middle name. One he almost never used. One that came up once in conversation, early on, and she’d filed it away without knowing why.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

It was Emilie, too. The girl who had stood beside her in everything. The one who’d carried her grief like it was nothing and handed her back joy in return. It was Emilie’s laugh. Emilie’s loyalty. Emilie, who had become something like a sister without ever asking for the title.

Emilian.

It felt right in a way she couldn’t explain.

Strong, but soft. Steady.

She never said anything to Max. Not yet. She didn’t know if she was allowed to name something so permanent after people who already meant so much. Didn’t know if Max would see it as sentimental or strange.

So she kept the name to herself.

Wrote it at the top of every new page.

Circled it absentmindedly when she talked to the baby alone in the quiet.

Sometimes whispered it under her breath when she folded tiny onesies or passed by the crib and imagined someone small in it.

Emilian.

Maybe she was waiting to see if Max said it first. Or maybe she just needed to be sure.

But again and again—when she closed her eyes, when she dreamed of someone with Max’s eyes and her stubbornness—

That was the name that came back.

[strawberry-bubblef]

Can I request the first-years (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek, Ortho) with a reader who grew up with a big family and misses them?

I have eleven other siblings, a lot of cousins, and relatives, so I grew up with noise and chaos—but imagine being transported to another world where it's a haunting silence at the ramshackle dorm?

—obviously platonic for Ortho, but others can be romantic/platonic

First-Years with a Reader Who Grew Up in a Big Family

Ace Trappola

Ace pretends like it’s no big deal when you mention your massive family. “Eleven siblings? Geez, how are you even still sane?” But it doesn't take long for him to notice how quiet you get when the dorm halls are empty or how you linger a bit longer around groups of students just to feel a little less alone.

He starts picking up on your cues. If you’re ever quiet too long, Ace might start being loud on purpose,laughing obnoxiously, teasing you more than usual, or dragging you into card games with Grim. “C’mon, I can’t stand the silence, and you look like you’re gonna melt into it.”

He’d probably invite you to hang out with him and the rest of the guys, keeping you distracted. He’s a lot more perceptive than people give him credit for and can tell when you’re feeling out of place. Ace would make sure to check in on you when things get quiet, even if it’s just to have a snack or mess around to fill the silence. You might not get the chaotic comfort of your family, but Ace’s presence would be a constant reminder that you weren’t alone.

Underneath all the snark, Ace cares. He may not always know what to say, but he hates seeing you down. And if it means being a bit more annoying just to bring some familiar chaos back into your life, he’ll do it in a heartbeat.

Deuce Spade

Deuce was far more observant than he let on, and he noticed how the silence in the dorm seemed to be wearing on you. He didn’t know much about growing up in a large family, but he did understand what it was like to feel a bit out of place, especially after a tough childhood.

One day, he spotted you sitting alone in the courtyard, looking wistfully at the distant horizon, as if wishing for a little more noise to fill the space. It wasn’t like you to seem down, and Deuce wasn’t going to let you stay that way.

“Hey,” he started quietly, taking a seat next to you, “I noticed you’ve been a little quiet. The dorm can get pretty lonely, huh?”

Deuce wasn't one for grand gestures, but his empathy shone through in small ways. He’d offer to study with you, just to pass the time, or talk about the small things,the latest exam, what you thought of a certain class, or something as simple as the weird things Grim had done that day. Sometimes, Deuce would share stories of his own upbringing, about the challenges he faced before coming to Night Raven College, and how he found a family here with his friends. It wasn’t much, but it helped bridge the gap.

"I may not have grown up with a lot of noise," he’d say with a sheepish smile, "but if you need someone to fill the silence, I’m here, okay?"

Jack Howl

Jack isn’t used to big families, and honestly, the idea kind of overwhelms him. But he respects the bond you have with yours. When you told him how quiet Ramshackle felt compared to the bustling home you came from, he didn’t say much,just nodded, ears twitching thoughtfully.

Instead of words, Jack showed his support through actions. He started taking you on morning jogs. “Back home, I always trained with my brothers. Running with someone else helps fill the silence.” He hoped it might do the same for you.

He wasn’t good with comforting words, but he’d listen to every story you shared,about siblings stealing your snacks, cousins dogpiling you during family game night, or how your mom used to yell across the house and somehow everyone still understood her. Jack would chuckle softly and shake his head. “That sounds… intense. But kinda nice.”

He started to notice the little things,how your eyes would light up when you talked about your siblings, how you’d hum familiar tunes under your breath when it got too quiet. And so, Jack would sometimes start conversations with, “Tell me more about your family. What were your brothers like?”

Epel Felmier

Epel totally gets it. “Finally! Someone who understands what it’s like to wake up to screaming!” You two bond immediately over shared stories of family chaos,Epel with his rowdy cousins and country life, and you with your giant extended family.

He misses the noise too, even if he pretends not to. So when you say Ramshackle feels too quiet, he doesn’t hesitate. “Let’s make it loud, then!” Suddenly you’re in mock wrestling matches with Grim, throwing pillow-fights in the common room, or blasting music while baking snacks together.

Epel’s chaos is cathartic. He gives you permission to be loud again, to be yourself. And whenever he catches you looking homesick, he’ll nudge your shoulder and go, “Bet your family’s thinking about you too. You ain’t alone, alright?”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek, with his strict and traditional mindset, doesn’t entirely understand why you’re so disturbed by the quiet. To him, silence is an opportunity to grow stronger, focus, and prepare for the future. But he notices your discomfort and decides to offer his version of comfort, though it’s not as gentle as the others.

"Silence is nothing to fear," Sebek says sternly, standing tall beside you one evening. "If you are used to noise and chaos, then perhaps it is time to embrace the stillness. You will grow stronger by facing the silence head-on, and when you do, you will not need the noise to feel alive."

You raise an eyebrow, unsure how to respond, but his words carry a certain weight. "I suppose... maybe I’ll get used to it."

Sebek nods, his face still serious but with a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "You will. And when you do, you will be stronger than before. You have our support."

It’s not the kind of reassurance you were expecting, but it gives you something to think about: strength in solitude, and the potential to find peace in the quiet.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho, being the considerate and thoughtful person he is, would be very aware of the emotional toll the quiet could take on you. While his relationship with his own family might be different, he understands what it means to miss loved ones.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling lonely,” he’d say with a gentle smile, his robotic voice soft and soothing. “If you ever need to talk or just hang out, I’m always here. We can even play a game or go on an adventure if that helps!”

Ortho would try to provide as much comfort as possible, filling the silence with his upbeat attitude and offering activities to keep you engaged. Though he couldn’t replace your large family, he’d try his best to be a dependable friend who could be there for you when you needed him most.

English is not my first language !

[pizzaapeteer]

I’ve really been thinking about toxic!boyfriend mattheo. I’ve seen like 100 Theo headcannons of it but not my king matty 😔

AH yes anon I completely agree, let me be his addiction - his obsession - his fucking drug, where we ruin each other.

An: I’m very fortunate to have like zilch interaction with a toxic boy so praying this hits right bb 💛 also thank you to @finalgirllx for this sexy edit of matty! tw: talks of some verbal or emotional abuse, he's still a dick basically. @suugarbabe @fuckaperioddrama much love for your help 💛

Toxic!BfMattheo; who secretly gets a thrill from arguing, turns him on in a way he never knew could. Literally fuels his dominance, makes him feel powerful when he raises his voice or throws in a swear word. ‘The fuck!, You’re fucking delusional, I never said that’, 'Are you gonna stop spitting out bullshit or do I need to fill your mouth with something else?" Taking his anger out on you in the best way he knows how.

Toxic!BfMattheo; who hides his insecurity of losing you in his jealousy and will never admit to it gaslighting the hell out of you. But it's done in a subtle way that has you believing him pretty quickly. He’ll make sure to kiss your forehead and temple while he tells you, you’re wrong. 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who has the stupidest double standards ever. Will snap and lecture you about talking to other men (he doesn’t believe it's ever innocent). But who will always brush it off as not meaning anything and how you have nothing to worry about when he does the same with girls. 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who gets extra vulnerable when he’s drunk. Love bombs HARD, how he can't live without you, how he won't take you for granted. Opens up a lot about his father and shares a side he still only trusts with you. 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who hardly ever apologises for anything with words. He won't let himself admit when he’s wrong, so he’ll just buy you flowers, or he’s coercing you with sex in a way that has you somehow begging him that you forgive him. Promising him you love him and will never leave, that you are his. 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who's controlling but plays it off as just being protective and looking out for you. 'You really want rumours starting that you're a whore, didn't think so - go change.' ‘I’m just looking out for you baby.’ But is secretly glad you listen and only he gets to see your body that way.

Toxic!BfMattheo; who gets irritated when you get busy with studies because he’s needy, but also doesn’t want to show it and pretends to be nonchalant that he doesn’t care. But he’ll avoid you for like almost a week to balance it out in showing that he also too doesn’t need you. 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who gaslights and belittles you for acting upset and getting emotional when you express your feelings about his absence. He’s quick to call you ‘so fucking sensitive’, ‘dramatic’, ‘crybaby’ that is not a big deal and he just needs space. 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who won’t shy away from bragging about how he has you eating out of the palm of his hand. Making sure to leave specific details out about your body, after all you’re ‘his’ and he doesn’t need his friends knowing all the visuals. But he’ll make it clear how good he fucks you to make them jealous. ‘Where’s your girlfriend?’, ‘Recovering from last night’. 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who wouldn’t stand up for you if his friends are being sexist. If they look at you or flirt with you he’d punch them but if they made some joke at a woman’s expense he’d laugh it off.

Toxic!BfMattheo; who will hold a grudge if you make a mistake but goes ballistic if you bring up his own shit in retrospect. Using excuses such as, ‘I’m just really stressed’, ‘I’ve just been going through it can’t you just be there for me,’ ‘you know the pressure my father puts on me.’ 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who does love you, he’s completely obsessed. But he’s so deeply rooted in his toxic behaviour that he won't change. Or at least he doesn’t see it as a big deal, something you should get used to if you love him. That if you truly loved him, you’d accept him for who he is. He won't hesitate to emotionally manipulate you to stay if you dare. 

Toxic!BfMattheo; who you loved deeply, craved and were so attached to. Injected into your veins, and who you knew loved you at the end of the day. That he had picked you out of everyone. No matter what he did, or how he treated you, you knew you’d always be by his side and loving him.

⤷ navigation. ⤷ masterlist. ⤷ mattheo masterlist. All work is my own and is not to be copied, claimed or stolen. ©️pizzaapeteer 2024.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part twenty-three

Once again, don't say a word, yes I'm uploading AGAIN, I can't help it!! I want to get to the fluffy weekend chapters!!!

Warnings: some good big brother bonding with Morgan and reader, Derek talks about the events of s2e12 "Profiler, Profiled" here, more curveballs lowkey I'm getting whiplash here (you'll see), apologies in advance (it felt too easy!!! so sorry!!!)

When you peel yourself away from Hotch, it’s only because there’s a knock at his door. The sound makes you jump and him stand to his feet, his hands slipping from yours automatically. 

He walks to the door and opens it a crack, pausing. He looks over his shoulder once at you before opening the door further.

Rossi eyes you both as he walks into Hotch’s office. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” you say immediately, standing up. “I was just leaving, actually.”

Rossi gives you a look that tells you he sees right through you, but he doesn’t press as you weave through them and exit Hotch’s office. 

The team is just coming out of the conference room when you step out, pausing as you stare at one another.

You don’t know what to say. If you can even say anything. 

“Should we um…” You pause to clear your throat. “Should we go back to looking at all the evidence?”

“In a minute,” Morgan says. “Let’s take a walk first.”

You open your mouth, but Morgan hears none of it, shaking his head as he comes toward you, leading you out of the bullpen.

“Where are we going?”

“To get breakfast for everyone for the long day ahead of us,” Morgan replies, pressing the down arrow on the elevator. “And to get you calmed down.”

“I’m plenty calm.”

“You’re shaking.”

The elevator doors open and you step inside, glaring at the buttons on the wall instead of your team member. You press the ground floor button with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the fact that you are definitely not shaking.

Neither of you say a word as you walk to Derek’s car in the parking garage, parked in his same spot as usual. Derek breaks the silence with an insane question.

“Do you…want to stop somewhere for…cigarettes?”

You can’t help but laugh loudly at the way he says it. “No, dude, I’m fine.”

“Alright,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. “Was just asking.”

“Why?” you laugh again. “Last time that was brought up you were horrified.”

“Well,” he shrugs, not arguing with that. He pulls out of the space and heads for the exit. “That was before everything started imploding.”

You scoff. “Imploding puts it a little too nicely. But no, I’m fine, that was my one pack for the year, so I’m cut off.”

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “One a year?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “A rule I had with my mom. She never liked that I picked up the habit — didn’t find out why until later, but my dad smoked, too, and tried to hide it from her — so we made a deal. One pack a year.”

“And you stuck to it?”

“Surprisingly, yeah,” you reply. “Some days I don’t know how I did it, but I guess I just didn’t want to let her down.”

Morgan hums. “That feeling can run deep.”

“Especially after what happened with my dad,” you agree. “I knew she couldn’t take another thing, so when we compromised and made promises, we stuck to them.”

Morgan nods. “Mine too.”

A comfortable silence fills the car as Morgan drives into town, to one of the chain coffee spots that has a drive-thru. They know the BAU well from their frequent — and sometimes random — orders.

As you wait in one of the nearby parking spaces for your order to be prepared, Morgan starts talking again.

“Did I ever tell you about a case in my hometown a few years ago?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

“I was arrested as a suspect for the murder of one of the neighborhood kids,” he explains. “I was in town for my mom’s birthday, and one of the detectives had always had it out for me, he saw a connection and booked me. Hotch and everyone came to find the real unsub and get me out of there.”

“Oh my god,” you say, unsure of how else to respond to this. “But they did figure it out, obviously, right, because you’re here, and still at the BAU?”

Morgan nods, keeping his eyes focused ahead of him. “They did. But the team had to do a lot of digging into my past to find answers. Because I wasn’t willing to share those parts of my life.”

“Right.” You look down at your hands, seeing exactly where he’s going with this now.

“Garcia unsealed some of my records, Hotch practically interrogated me as if I was the unsub,” Morgan laughs, the kind of bitter sound that tells you it wasn’t funny then, it isn’t exactly funny now, but it’s less painful than it used to be. “I kept secrets because I wanted my privacy — and I still do. I still think we each have a right to our privacy, no matter how much we see each other all the damn time,” he smiles. “But I also know things might’ve gone smoother if I had opened up a little more.”

You shake your head. “That’s not on you, Derek. Just because things might have gone smoother doesn’t mean you were wrong for trying to salvage what little privacy you had left.”

“I know that,” he says. “I’m saying two things can be true at once. You can be mad at Hotch for going behind your back and digging into your past without your permission. And you can let yourself accept that he was doing what he thought was right and what he thought had to be done in order to help you.”

You sink further into the passenger seat, resisting the urge to glare at Derek. “How’d you know I’ve been battling that one in my head?”

Morgan smiles then, wide and mischievous. “You’re an open book whether you like it or not.”

“Or maybe we’re just so similar that you’re projecting and it just happens to be correct.”

“Like I said, two things can be true at once.”

You roll your eyes that time, playfully shoving his shoulder. “I hate you.”

“No, no you love me.”

“Barely.”

“Ouch.”

“Quit being dramatic and put your window down, they’re bringing our food out.”

Once the bags of breakfast are safely tucked at your feet and the drink carrier is secured in your lap, Morgan heads back for the BAU.

“Thank you,” you finally say. “For the Big Brother talk.”

He glances at you, looking only slightly surprised. “You’re welcome. Anytime.”

“Did you and Hotch ever talk about it?” you blurt.

Morgan is unfazed by the question, though. “Yeah. We did.” He pauses. “I’m assuming you guys haven’t?”

“Well,” you scoff. “We haven’t exactly had the time.”

“Touché,” Morgan nods. “I think you should. At some point.”

Like this weekend, your mind fills in for you. It would be the perfect time. The two of you will be alone, with Rossi’s entire place to yourselves. It would be easy for you to pitch the conversation or try to steer one in that direction — or, fuck it, blurt it out at one point just to rip the bandaid off. 

“Yeah,” you say. “At some point.”

+++

“Everything okay?” Rossi asks Hotch after they watch you practically bolt from the room.

Hotch shuts the door. “Fine. I was going to ask you the same, since you followed Erin out of here.”

Rossi’s on-again, off-again relationship with Erin Strauss is no secret, at least not to Hotch. It’s something he’s known about for years, having confronted Dave about it after noticing one too many not-so-subtle gestures from his friend.

But that’s not what this was about this time.

“She wants us to get to the bottom of this. Like, yesterday,” Rossi says.

“Well,” Hotch pauses to rub the headache brewing under his eyebrow. “Tell her she can join the club.”

That makes both men let out an incredulous laugh.

“What the hell are we doing here, Aaron?” Dave finally asks. “It feels like we get thrown a curveball every single day. Richard Monroe just breaks out of prison out of nowhere? Are we supposed to think the unsub helped him? Are we supposed to think Richard is going to go after Lila now?”

“I don’t know,” Aaron admits. “I don’t understand any of it. And nothing that we find seems to land us any closer than we were to figuring out who is doing all of this.”

“I know,” Rossi sighs. “I asked her last night if she remembers anything about who kidnapped her.”

“And?” Hotch sounds too hopeful, he knows he does.

Rossi shakes his head. “She might have seen his face, but she has blocked it out. What she remembered was him telling her to put the clothes she was wearing the day he took her back on, so that she’d match the description when we found her. But he was taking care of her. Giving her changes of clothes, food, water, letting her shower with a lock inside the bathroom door. She said she felt safe, despite everything. If she did see his face, she blocked it out, and it’s been two decades, Aaron. There’s no way she’d remember it now, and if she did, we couldn’t trust it to be accurate, not after this long.”

Hotch hates it, but Rossi is right. With so much time having passed, it’s no use. 

“There’s something we’re missing,” Hotch turns and heads for the window, gazing at the horizon as he thinks. “When we spoke to Richard in prison, he said his daughter was supposed to be left out of it.”

“Okay…”

“So, if the unsub we’re looking for is the same person who kidnapped Lila, and the same person from twenty years ago,” Hotch talks himself in circles, “and Richard recognized her in the interrogation room that day— he’s the heart of this, but how?”

“And now he’s missing,” Rossi muses.

“Or running,” Hotch adds, then turns around to face Rossi, something clicking in his mind. “Richard had someone framed. He admitted to that.”

“But we checked on that, the man was out on parole, it was lifted once Richard admitted to everything.”

“Where is he now?”

The pair stare at one another before Hotch practically leaps for his desk to make the necessary phone calls.

As it rings, Hotch turns to Rossi, “Get Garcia to bring up everything on him — including whatever he was doing twenty years ago — and meet us in the conference room.”

Rossi nods and leaves so Hotch can handle the calls. It’s not a definite lead, but it’s something, and it’s someone that they can potentially speak to.

+++

When you and Morgan arrive back at the BAU, you don’t expect to walk into such a flurry of chaos when you enter the bullpen.

“We might have a lead,” Prentiss explains. “Come on.”

You nearly drop the drinks as you hurry up the stairs to the conference room, joining JJ, Garcia, and Reid. “Where’s Hotch?”

“On the phone,” Rossi answers from behind you. “He’ll be in in just a second.”

Garcia starts anyway. “Does anyone remember Maxwell Herman?” She barely gives anyone a second to answer before continuing. “I doubt it, because we looked at him for all of two seconds when you were investigating Lila Monroe’s kidnapping, but here he is.” 

She points the remote at the screen and pictures fly onto it, one being Maxwell’s mugshot. The one next to it being his arrest record.

“This is the man Richard Monroe admitted to having framed,” Garcia continues. “Was on parole, that was lifted once Richard admitted to everything, you know the rest. Now, what you don’t know is that’s not his real name.”

She clicks again and a new mugshot appears, one of a younger man. Twenty years younger. 

“Meet William Easton from Georgia, with such a crazy rap sheet that I have no idea how he was able to change his name and entire identity without someone catching on. But anyway, he was arrested for anything you can name. Including but not limited to: Attempted arson, attempted armed robbery, actual armed robbery, DUI, domestic dispute, aggravated assault, and the kicker, attempted homicide.”

“Attempted?” Reid blurts.

“They never quite found enough evidence to convict him, but—”

“He was a suspect,” Rossi says. “In the original murders in Atlanta, before we connected them to Adkins. Before the BAU stepped in.”

“What?” you blurt, that being the absolute last thing you were expecting to hear, despite knowing somehow that your father was connected.

“They caught him in the area one too many times,” Rossi continues. “They thought it was because he was the unsub, but it turned out he was just a creep with a record who was fascinated by the killings.”

“Wanna see something else crazy?” Garcia adds. “Here’s the sketch that the artist came up with after speaking to Lila.” She clicks again so the sketch is side by side William’s most recent mugshot. The likeness isn’t exact, but it’s enough to be worrisome.

Hotch comes into the conference room, phone pressed to his ear. “Thank you.” He ends the call to fill everyone in. “Officers are on their way to William’s home, they’re going to call once they’ve apprehended him.”

“For what?” you ask. “If he was on parole, he couldn’t leave the house to kidnap a child.”

“No, but he could convince a child he was their father and make them come to him,” Morgan answers. “If he had good behavior, he could leave the house for a short period to meet her somewhere and grab her.”

“Exactly,” Hotch agrees. You can feel his eyes on you as you stare at the screen, at the mugshot and the sketch. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just…strange that we might have a face to put to all of this now.” Too easy, almost. Though nothing leading up to this point has been easy, this feels too easy.

You wish you hadn’t had that thought. It’s almost like you jinxed it somehow, even though you didn’t speak it out loud.

Because no less than ten minutes later, Hotch’s phone rings, and you can see on his face that it’s bad news.

“Alright, don’t— Don’t touch anything. My team and I will be there as soon as we can.”

When he hangs up the phone, everyone waits, their breaths held, for his next words.

“They found William dead in his apartment,” Hotch says. “Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, I want you with me, we’ll be leaving in ten minutes. Everyone else,” he conveniently avoids your eyes, “stay here and continue digging. Richard Monroe might not be missing, he might be running from our unsub.”

“How do you know that?” you ask. “And why am I not going with you?”

“Because the unsub left a note on William’s body,” Hotch replies, ever firm and clinical. “And I need you to stay here.”

“Hotch—”

“I don’t have time to argue about this, we’ll be back before the end of the day,” he says, his voice softer, but that doesn’t help. Just because he doesn’t yell at you doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt — once again being shown by his actions that he thinks you can’t handle something.

“Fine, then, just go,” you look back up at William’s face on the screen. “We’ll be here when you get back.”

Everyone leaves quickly, except Hotch who lingers a bit in the doorway, like there are words just at the tip of his tongue. He calls your name once, but you shake your head.

“Go,” you repeat, just barely looking at him over your shoulder. “Take some food for the plane,” you gesture to the breakfast that is nearly forgotten. “Go.”

[nana-mania]

can you do a red flag hc about s62 and kaku too? 🥺🥺

"THEIR RED FLAGS" a reality check for s62 generation and kakucho stans

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ headcanon

࿐*ೃ feat : izana, shion, mocchi, mucho, ran, rindou, kakucho

࿐*ೃ fandom : tokyo revengers

࿐*ೃ extras : gn! reader, angst, toxic relationship mentioned

S62 AND KAKUCHO - THEIR RED FLAGS

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ IZANA KUROKAWA

His painful past left him broken, unable to trust anyone because he’s always expecting to be hurt. He clings to love, desperate to fill the emptiness inside, but it only makes him possessive and afraid of losing the people he cares about. Deep down, he doesn’t know how to stop himself from controlling others, even those closest to him, because he’s terrified of being abandoned again. It’s like he’s trapped in a cycle of pain, hurting others just to protect his fragile heart. His confidence often comes across as arrogance, but it stems from his fear of abandonment and inadequacy. He might project these insecurities onto you, making you feel like you’re always being tested.

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ KAKUCHO

Kakucho’s unshakable loyalty to Izana can leave you feeling like you’re always second in his heart, constantly competing for his attention. His stubborn, self-sacrificing nature means he’s willing to throw himself into danger or make big decisions without considering how you feel, which can put a strain on the relationship. And with his deep sense of honor, he struggles to let go of grudges, even over small betrayals, making it hard to move past mistakes and truly heal.

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ KANJI MOCHIZUKI

Mochi’s fierce loyalty and strength make him incredibly protective, but sometimes it’s to the point of smothering, shielding you from things you don’t even need protection from. With his intense loyalty and protectiveness, he might become irrationally jealous if you spend too much time with anyone else. Every interaction you have with others could feel like an interrogation, with him questioning you about every detail, making you feel trapped and constantly under his watchful eye. He struggles with emotions, often brushing off feelings as “not a big deal,” which can leave you feeling unheard. Additionally, his impulsive nature means he’s quick to jump into fights without thinking, often causing trouble that could’ve been avoided.

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ YASUHIRO MUTO

His stoic nature often makes him seem emotionally detached, leaving you wondering if he truly cares. His strict and inflexible approach to life can turn the relationship into something that feels more like a set of rules than a heartfelt connection. Worst of all, his unwavering loyalty—sometimes to the wrong people—might leave you feeling neglected, as he puts his duty above your needs, even when it hurts you both. His tendency to prioritize logic over emotions can leave you feeling invisible too, as if your feelings don’t matter. He might look you in the eyes and say, “It’s for the best,” with a calm, detached tone, never realizing how deeply those words cut or how much they make you feel like you’re just another unimportant piece in his life.

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ SHION MADARAME

Shion’s ego is as big as the moon, always bragging and sometimes brushing off your accomplishments or opinions like they don’t matter. Sometimes, his ego prevents from reaching out to you to seek help, even though he desperately needs someone by his side. He sees that as a sign of weakness-- something that will tarnish his image. His reckless and impulsive nature means he often acts without thinking, leaving you to clean up the mess he’s made. His brash personality means he has little regard for personal space or boundaries. He’s the type to tease or provoke you in ways that might make you uncomfortable, all while thinking it’s just "harmless fun." It is also hard to trust that he’ll truly be there for you when it counts, because he seems to prioritize his loyalty for Izana and others.

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ RAN HAITANI

Ran’s charm and smooth-talking can be captivating, but behind his charismatic facade lies a manipulative side that twists situations to his advantage. He avoids conflict at all costs, preferring to charm his way out of issues or sweep them under the rug, leaving problems to fester. His sadistic sense of humor means his jokes often cut deep, even if he doesn’t realize how much they hurt. Ran’s obsession with appearances and reputation means he might focus more on how you look together than on how you actually feel. And when he’s upset, he won’t confront you directly—instead, he holds grudges in subtle, passive-aggressive ways, like withholding affection or teasing you where it hurts the most.

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ RINDOU HAITANI

Rindou’s close bond with Ran can make you feel like you’re always in second place, with their relationship overshadowing yours and leaving you feeling like an outsider. He bottles up his emotions, internalizing his frustrations until they eventually explode, forcing you to deal with the aftermath of his pent-up anger. His sarcasm can be cruel, using biting comments to deflect serious conversations or hurt you without meaning to. And while he may not be as obvious as Ran, Rindou’s manipulations are subtle and calculated, making you question your own decisions and feelings, leaving you uncertain of what’s real.

࿐*ೃ thanks for reading this headcanon! likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated ♡

[occamstfs]

Chauffeur Swap

Another epistolary TF ! Cocky office worker to an equally cocky gym bro, trait swap + IQ Drain aplenty -Occam

Monday May 6th

Morning 

I’m beyond thrilled that I’m finally being looked at for a promotion. I’ve worked my ass off for this company ever since I graduated and I am not going to let this chance slip through my fingers. It’s such a good gig, in the week leading up to them filling the position they’re letting us use the company’s chauffeurs as just one little hint of the luxury this promotion will afford us.

At least, that’s what I thought before my driver arrived to pick me up and I saw what a slob of a man my driver was! I mean my word! I thought it was a prank or something else untoward! I’m sure he could tell too, I could not muster even a shy smile, nothing to do but grimace. God and that was before I got in! He must have just been an Uber hired or something because it smelled like a locker room in there! Truly vile!

God willing this is a one off occurrence, hate to get the oaf in trouble. Though judging by the state of his hygiene though he clearly needs to be taught a lesson somehow! I mean even with this job I couldn't afford to buy cologne enough to hide that stink- perhaps some dog-strength febreze- Ha!

Evening

Godddd fuck! The last thing I needed after such a stressful day was to be greeted by that animal’s face- worse yet, his SCENT! I underestimated just how grueling this interview charade would be. It is just one final hurdle to the big leagues though. I will leave petty contrivances like suffering through this unpleasant car ride behind.

Just to make the time pass with greater speed I put forth some small talk. Not like I could hold my breath near long enough to make a difference, and it couldn’t hurt to vent about what a hassle the day had been hm? After this though he started talking about himself and fwoh- could I not care less about whatever surely protein-fart based drivel or beer-brained diatribe he launched into. 

Perhaps this is unfair, I did not deign to listen to him. So perhaps he’s better than he seems. But who could blame me, sitting in that car was punishment enough to earn me tuning him out. And! And! For him to have the benefit of the doubt surely he could at least wear deodorant! Hm. Unless he is trying? God that would be depressing, to be so, ugh- I continue to hold out hope I never see him again

Tuesday May 7th

Morning

Mm, I simply must develop a better poker face if I am to continue to suffer in this odor for the week, god forbid even longer- I have prepared accordingly however, yesterday no one mentioned it at work but I swear I kept smelling it, him, all day? Same when I got home, just everytime I calmed down from work bam! I smelled this horrid car ride. I am bringing my cologne to work with me, I plan to put it at lest once more when I arrive at work.

It’s just, Why is this my problem right! I don’t know what his problem is, but I don’t see why I have to suffer because of it right? I should not have to deal with someone like this, he’s supposed to be working for me. I uh, it’s not like I think I’m better than him I just, well I am better than him. Hm, I lost my train of thought. 

Ugh, I keep spacing out today- I’m sure it has to do with my twice-daily rides with, hm. I don’t even know his name. It’s? You know I don’t care. I just need to take it easy, I’m not letting this fucking dude-bro pitstain of a man bother me this much! I’m getting my bag and he is not worth a second further of my, uh, attention.

Evening

I have a headache and I don’t know how it is his fault but it has to be. This whole thing is setting me on edge, I need to chill about Ben. That’s right Ben! I got his name, I actually told him about my headache and he told me that he usually meditates to clear his mind- which crazy that someone so, despite all appearances, mindful treats his body like a sty but- Well not a sty I suppose, or at the very least a well built one- 

Ah, that’s not quite appropriate is it. God he is hot though. Honestly sitting there just breathing in his, uh, scent, helped with the headache. Wait no, it was the meditation, God, why can I not stop thinking of his fucking B.o. My headache was gone but now I feel I’m beginning to run a fever, or at the very least I need to turn down the AC or something-

Better not affect my work tomorrow.

Wednesday May 8th

Morning 

Not gonna be a good one. I fucking woke up late which ive literally never done before! I barely got myself up and ready in time and didn’t realize until the car but I didn’t bring my cologne with me. It turned out to be the least of my problems however as when I got in his car I fully spilled my coffee all over the backseat. Hopefully this will mask his putridity because I now have to sit in the front with him for the ride.

He must know. He has to know it has to be some kinda sick, uh, fetish or something. Its untendable untenable. god get your shit together Jacob. Its so hard to focus on anything else now that Im sitting right by him. I need to talk to someone about this, fuck its like hes exposing his pits on purpose. He wants me to stare at him, i bet. Bet he gets some sort of sick rise out of me. Im sure him and all the other chauffeurs probably get together and jack off about how repulsive and, uh, strong they all are.

God Fuck! Get me out of this car im losing my mind! Need to, ill just get some work done on the commute, should help i think. God its getting hot in here again or something, so help me if this fucker starts actively sweating im gonna lose it

Evening

i just couldnt get anything done today i dont know what was fucking up dude? it was just so hot in there and i mustve forgotten to put deodorant on this morning, people kept complaining but i didnt even notice? i guess i was sweating more than usual, but like, it was so hot in that office and my clothes felt weird, tight almost. As if tho, lol im sure no one even really noticed that i was off.

OH speaking of, Ben really put himself together on the ride home today. He was wearing a button up and everything, must have seen how nice im living and got his shit together! Maybe ive been to hard on the douche? nah car still smelled like shit haha! Or i think it did? didnt really notice it until like halfway thru?

Fuck my clothes are so tight all of a sudden, godd its so hot actually. I look fucking huge in this tiny little monkey suit- almost like Benjamin ha- as if id stoop so low, even if i started getting massive not like id be dum enough to be on his level lol

Thursday May 9th

Morning

Fuckin couldnt find ANYTHING this morning dude! it was like someone came in and took or hid everything i need for work today. ended up having to just fuckin leave for the car without a suit jacket- pretty sure ive got an extra in my office tho so were chill there. mm probably shouldve shaved tho lol

Oh yeah the files! i had some reports that i needed to bring in but totally couldnt find them! Turns out benjamin had them the whole time it was weird, guess i left them last night. but he was like such an ass about it, like he knows anything though the uh, jock, jerk uh. hes actually dressed better than me rn isnt he. Finally threw on a dress shirt, surely inspired by me haha- pulling it off quite well too, his chest hair peaking up through mm-

Fuckkk dude my cocks kinda getting hard looking at him, starting to smell musty in the car too, wait oh shit i didnt even notice that it didnt reek when i got in! weird that its starting to stink now tho whats up with that, looks like hes finally noticing tho ha! its nice to see him finally react to how bad my uh, no how I GOD, how bad fuckin’ he stinks obviously. whatever, ive got more important stuff to think about.

Evening 

okay work was like, not fuckin chill today. idk what was up but like, every little thing i did today just wasnt good enough apparently like okay?? you know me, if something seems off clearly, fucking OBVIOUSLY it uh, i? god my head just keeps going blank i dont get it, im just. Huh, kinda smells like Ben all of a sudden, oh fuck lol my pits have completely sweat through my shirt-

None of this matters anyway though bro! Because i just had the BEST sesh with Ben after work!! honestly the work shit doesnt even bother me, shouldve seen me its like i am a natural at this shit i was getting a pump like ive done it a hundred times. im sure it smelled like a locker room on the ride home lol

OH! I didnt even say, it was all ben’s idea!!! he said the gym always helps him when uh, things get too hard to think about and fuckk bro hes so right. hes so, lol i almost said hes so smart- he definitely knows how to work out though, he kept helping me with my technique but im prety sure he just wanted an excuse to touch me- 

not that im complaining LMAO- every time he did it was like i felt myself getting stronger, and less worried about all those yes-man suit fuckers! hed adjust my arms and i would feel my biceps just suddenly pump larger, hed bump his hands into my pecs while spotting me and theyd just force the bar up even faster, wish hed just go ahead and grab my cock lol

theres time yet too- gonna crash at his place tonight! hopefully ill get to see him put his magic fingers and tight body to use cause fuck bro idk if it was the pump or what but i dont think my balls have ever been this blue, like any time i try to think about, oh ughh, work i just. mm everything in my body just begs me to fucking blow a load- 

Friday May 10th

Morning

fucker just went to bed early- got me all riled up and then i had to jack off alone. felt way better than usual tho, my cock seems bigger to lol, dk whats up with that. wanted to try again this morning but ben was just on my fucking ass trying to get me out the door 

i didnt have any of my clothes, duh, so i just threw on some of his, crazy how much they fit me? they even kinda already smell like me lol. he actually put a suit on which seems wild, funny that i look like a slob and he looks like some uh, fancy guy. Like i should right? uhh is my headache coming back? lol idk but looking at him in that fucking suit sure is making it hard to focus-

ben said i can just change n stuff when we got to the office, its why hes dressed up. ill go ahead and drive us and then hell just run up and get my clothes, idk if theyll fit tho? feel like im larger than i was for some reason- oh yeah my massive fucking pump lol- 

mh speaking of pump, maybe while hes up there ill have time to jack another one out, not like anyonell see or care ya? like its a problem im about to be the fuckin alpha of this company or uh, something. itll be done before hes back, only evidence will be cum stains on his clothes lol. ugh it smells so fucking dank in here i might just cum without touching it lol

Evening

shit man, dont know what i was doing? i feel like i was supposed to go into work today but ben says from now on im just his driver. which easy gig right lol? doesnt even care that i dont shower huhuh-

he got his big promotion today!!! he looked so smug and hot when he came down to tell me, and he promised wed have some fun about it when he got home tonight- just gotta drop him off at some stupid fancy dinner ill probably hit the gym while hes there. gotta keep it up or ill look like some fucking dweeb

plus that means ill get the car totaly filled with my bo- hell fuckin love that, after he gets a good whiff no way wil he not want to fuck then and there huhuh fuck, kinda needs to get that exercise in now that hes doing whatever bitchass shit they do all they day up there needs to give in and just fuck me finally its been so, ugh long and my balls feel so full, and im sweating so much god im fogging up the windows loli better be careful i need to keep it together until then urgh- 

god i just smell so fucken hot

[domm1etae]

Hot Tub Revelations

welcome to domm1etae's kinktober day 5 : nipple play

san x f!reader

4.4k

When you and San sneak off to the hot tub for some steamy fun at the cabin, things heat up way more than expected

nsfw tags under

m/f, top top san, bottom reader, oral sex, dirty talk, teasing, pet names, hot tub, nipple play, public space, make out, handjob, fingering, kissing

Requests OPEN! - let me know through the ask button if you have any requests for this Kinktober

navigation | kinktober masterlist

“Hey, San, feel like joining me in the hot tub?” you called out, breaking the easy silence in the cozy living room of the cabin.

San paused, chopsticks in hand, hovering over a steaming plate of tteokbokki. His eyes flicked toward you, filled with mild curiosity, as if he wasn’t sure he heard you correctly. After a beat, he popped a rice cake into his mouth, chewing slowly as he contemplated your question.

“You’re serious?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Completely,” you shot back, flashing him a grin as you tugged your hoodie closer around yourself. “We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves on this trip, right? The hot tub is the best way to relax after being snowed in.”

San gave you a once-over, his lips twitching as he tried to hide a smile. “You do realize it’s, like, negative degrees out there, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously. That’s why the hot tub is perfect—it’s warm. Trust me, it’ll feel amazing.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he pushed his plate aside. “You’re really set on this, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” You stretched your arms above your head, your muscles aching slightly from the long day spent hiking earlier with the rest of the guys. “Everyone else is passed out or playing games. Come on, San, when’s the next time we’ll get a cabin like this for two whole weeks? We might as well take advantage of the perks.”

San sighed, but you could tell from the way he was already standing up that he was going to give in. He glanced out the window, where thick snow was still falling, covering the surrounding forest in a heavy, white blanket.

“You really want to drag me out into this frozen wasteland?” he teased, running a hand through his hair. “You must have some ulterior motive.”

You smirked, pulling your hat down over your ears as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I do. Or maybe I just want to soak in a hot tub with a nice view.”

He snorted, grabbing a towel and following you reluctantly. “Fine, but I’m holding you to that promise to make me more tteokbokki later.”

“Deal!” you laughed as the two of you stepped outside into the frigid air. The cold hit you like a wall, biting at your exposed skin, but you hurried toward the hot tub, eager to escape into its warmth.

As you stripped down to your swimsuit and slipped into the water, a blissful sigh escaped your lips. The contrast between the cold night air and the hot bubbling water was heavenly, instantly melting away the tension in your muscles.

San took his time getting in, shivering as he peeled off his hoodie and jogged over to the tub. “You owe me big for this,” he muttered under his breath, his face scrunching up as he gingerly lowered himself into the steaming water.

“Stop complaining,” you teased, leaning back against the edge of the tub. “You’ll thank me once you warm up.”

He huffed, but you noticed the way his shoulders relaxed almost immediately, the heat of the water working its magic. “Alright, I admit it… this feels pretty damn good.”

“Told you so,” you said smugly, watching him settle across from you.

You both fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound the gentle bubbling of the jets and the soft whistle of wind through the trees. The stars overhead were barely visible through the swirling snow, creating a serene winter wonderland around you.

“I can’t believe the guys are all missing out on this,” you mused, breaking the quiet.

San shrugged, his eyes half-closed as he sank deeper into the water. “They’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours and join us. We’ve still got another week of this trip left.”

“True.” You smiled at the thought of the rest of ATEEZ spread out inside the cabin, either asleep from exhaustion or still buzzing from the day’s adventures. It had been a last-minute idea to rent the place for two weeks of relaxation, a break from their usual busy schedules. So far, it had been perfect—just you, the snow-covered mountains, and the warmth of the fire in the evenings.

San opened one eye and glanced at you. “Still, I’m surprised you dragged me out here. You usually let me hide away with my snacks.”

You chuckled. “I needed company for this. And besides, I couldn’t let you miss out on the full cabin experience.”

“Full cabin experience, huh?” His lips curled into a playful smirk as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in your relaxed expression. “You mean soaking in a hot tub while snow falls around us? Yeah, that’s a pretty good experience.”

You shrugged, your own gaze drifting over him as he stretched his arms lazily along the edge of the tub. The way his muscles flexed under the water’s surface sent a shiver down your spine, and you quickly looked away before he noticed.

Unfortunately for you, he did.

“Something on your mind?” San asked, his voice lower now, teasing.

You tried to play it off. “Just thinking about how lucky we are to have this whole place to ourselves.”

“Uh-huh.” He wasn’t buying it, and the way his eyes narrowed on you sent a wave of heat that had nothing to do with the water. “Or maybe you were checking me out.”

You scoffed, splashing him lightly with water. “Oh, please.”

But his grin only widened, and in one swift motion, he reached across the tub, pulling you toward him so quickly you barely had time to react. Your body slid over his lap until you were straddling him in the water, the warmth between your bodies instantly making your heart race.

“San, what are you—”

He cut you off with a smirk, his hands resting on your hips as his dark eyes locked onto yours. “Just getting comfortable. You said something about enjoying the view, right?”

Your pulse quickened at the intensity in his gaze, and you found yourself unable to look away. “I—I was talking about the snow…”

“Sure you were,” he murmured, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he pulled you closer, your faces inches apart now. “So, tell me… why do you keep looking at me like that?”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with tension. “I wasn’t… I mean—”

“Liar,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’ve been teasing me all day, and now here we are… just the two of us.”

Your breath hitched as his hands roamed over your sides, pulling you firmly against him. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Uh-huh.” His voice was a low rumble now, vibrating through you as his lips ghosted over your neck. “So what do you want, then? Because right now… I think I know what you’re after.”

Your mind was spinning, but the moment his lips brushed against your neck, all rational thought flew out the window. You had imagined this scenario—being this close to San, feeling his hands on you—for longer than you cared to admit. Now that it was happening, there was no turning back.

Instead of answering, you leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss, soft at first, testing the waters. But the second San responded, pulling you even closer, the kiss deepened, quickly turning into something heated, something hungry.

His hands roamed across your body under the water, caressing your hips, sliding up your back, while his lips moved against yours with raw, unrestrained passion. The warmth of the hot tub paled in comparison to the fire building between you as you both gave in to the desire that had been simmering for so long.

When he pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your ear, he murmured, “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

You nodded, your heart racing as his hands settled on your waist again. “Yeah… for a while.”

His eyes darkened with desire, and his voice dropped lower. “Good. So have I.”

San’s hands gripped your waist more firmly now, fingers pressing into your skin as though he couldn’t get enough of the feel of you. The warmth of the water and his touch combined, making it hard to tell where one sensation ended and the other began. His hands slowly trailed from your waist up to your ribs, thumbs brushing teasingly just under your breasts, but he didn’t move further yet—like he was savoring each moment, each reaction.

You let out a soft gasp, the anticipation building as his thumbs ghosted along the curve of your breasts, so close to touching where you wanted him most, but still holding back. The way his hands explored your body felt both careful and possessive, like he was claiming you in slow, deliberate movements.

When his mouth found yours again, it wasn’t tentative like the first kiss—it was all heat. His lips moved over yours with an intensity that made your heart race, pulling a soft moan from deep within your throat. He nipped at your lower lip, just enough to make your breath hitch, before soothing it with a slow, sensuous drag of his tongue.

Meanwhile, his hands continued their exploration. One hand slipped behind your back, pulling you even closer to him, the other dipping just below the surface of the water, tracing a line back down to your hips, then slipping around to grip your ass firmly. He pressed your body flush against his, the friction between your bodies under the water sending sparks of heat straight to your core.

You could feel the hard lines of his chest against your softer curves, the firm muscles of his thighs beneath you as you straddled him. Every shift, every subtle movement, heightened the awareness of your bodies pressed together, the tension building with every second.

San’s lips left yours, trailing wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck, each one making your skin tingle. He nipped lightly at your earlobe before whispering against your skin, “You like this, don’t you?”

You could only nod, your breath catching in your throat as his hands roamed again, this time venturing higher. His thumb grazed over your nipple through your swimsuit top, and the sensation was electric. You arched into him instinctively, a low whimper escaping your lips at the light touch.

“You’re so sensitive here,” he murmured, his voice rough, almost teasing. His thumb circled the stiffened peak, the wet fabric clinging to your skin, making the sensation more intense. He repeated the motion, this time applying a little more pressure, causing a rush of heat to shoot straight through you.

“San,” you breathed, your voice coming out in a needy whisper as he continued to tease your nipple with slow, deliberate strokes. He pinched it lightly between his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body that made your hips press harder against his. You could feel his growing arousal beneath you, hard and insistent, and it only fueled your own desire.

His other hand wasn’t idle, either. It moved down your body, skimming over your ribs, your waist, before settling on your thigh. His fingers gripped you there, squeezing lightly before sliding upward, dangerously close to where you ached for him most. He paused just at the edge of your swimsuit bottoms, teasing you, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, so close but not quite touching.

“San, please…” The words slipped out before you could stop them, your need for him evident in your voice. Every touch, every kiss had you on edge, your body desperate for more of him.

He let out a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “You want more?”

You nodded quickly, your hands clutching his shoulders as you fought to keep your breathing steady. “Yes… please.”

His response was a low, rumbling growl against your neck as his fingers finally slid beneath the thin fabric of your swimsuit bottoms. His touch was gentle at first, exploring, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you. But then his fingers found your clit, and the light, teasing circles he began to rub had your head falling back, a moan escaping your lips.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and heat pooling deep in your core. His fingers moved with practiced ease, alternating between light, teasing strokes and firmer pressure that had your body responding in ways you couldn’t control. You rocked your hips against his hand, desperate for more friction, more of the intense pleasure he was giving you.

Meanwhile, his mouth had found its way back to your breasts. He tugged down the fabric of your swimsuit top with his teeth, exposing one of your nipples to the cool air before his warm mouth closed around it. The contrast between the hot tub’s heat, the cool air, and the warmth of his mouth on your sensitive skin was dizzying.

San’s tongue flicked over your nipple, and the sensation shot through you like a bolt of lightning. His mouth alternated between soft sucks and gentle bites, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. Every little movement sent more pleasure surging through you, your body aching for release.

His free hand, the one still working between your thighs, moved faster now, the circles on your clit becoming more insistent, more precise. Your hips moved on their own, grinding against his hand as the pressure inside you built higher and higher, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you completely.

You were lost in the sensation, every touch, every kiss driving you closer to the edge. The sound of San’s breathing, ragged and uneven against your skin, only fueled your desire. You could feel how much he wanted you, the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, but he was focused on you, on giving you exactly what you needed.

When his fingers slipped inside you, stretching you, filling you, a sharp gasp tore from your throat. The sensation of his fingers moving inside you, combined with the constant, steady pressure on your clit, was too much. Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the wave of pleasure built, higher and higher, until it finally crashed over you.

You came hard, your entire body trembling as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and clinging to San as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. His fingers didn’t stop, guiding you through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were spent, collapsing against his chest, your heart pounding in your chest.

San held you there, his hand still resting gently on your thigh as you came down from the high, his breath hot against your neck. You could feel his own need, the way his body trembled slightly under you, but he hadn’t asked for anything in return.

“You okay?” he murmured against your ear, his voice soft now, tender.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest as you leaned against him. “More than okay…”

He chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “Good.”

San’s lips lingered on the top of your head, his hand resting possessively on your thigh, still gripping you lightly as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. The sound of the hot tub bubbling beneath you filled the air, mingling with the faint sounds of laughter and chatter from inside the cabin, a reminder that your friends were only a few feet away—completely unaware of the heated moment you and San had just shared.

The thought sent a rush of excitement through you, your pulse quickening as you realized how close you had come to being discovered. But instead of pulling away or feeling embarrassed, the thrill only heightened your desire for him. The way he had touched you, the way he had brought you to the brink of ecstasy with nothing more than his fingers and mouth, left you wanting more.

You shifted slightly in his lap, feeling his hard length pressing against you through the thin fabric of his swim trunks. He hadn’t gotten his release yet, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to hold back, to give you space to recover.

But you didn’t want him to hold back. Not anymore.

With a teasing smile, you reached between your bodies, your hand trailing over his abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch as you moved lower. San’s breath hitched when your hand finally brushed over the bulge in his trunks, and you could feel how badly he wanted you. The heat from his arousal matched the intensity you felt, and you knew he was just as desperate for more as you were.

“Y/N…” His voice was low, a warning, but his body betrayed him. His hips bucked slightly into your hand, the need in him too strong to hide.

You bit your lip, leaning forward to press a slow, deliberate kiss to the hollow of his throat. “What’s wrong, San?” you whispered against his skin, your lips brushing over his collarbone as your hand began to stroke him through the fabric. “You didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?”

San let out a ragged breath, his hands tightening on your waist as you continued to tease him. His head fell back against the edge of the hot tub, his eyes closing as he tried to steady his breathing. “You’re gonna drive me crazy…” he muttered, but there was no real protest in his voice. If anything, he sounded like he was barely holding it together, each stroke of your hand sending him closer to the edge.

You smiled against his skin, loving the way he was unraveling under your touch. You wanted to make him feel just as good as he had made you feel, to give him the same kind of pleasure he had given you. And you weren’t going to stop until he was completely undone.

Your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his swim trunks, finally wrapping around his hard length. The moment you touched him, San let out a deep, guttural groan, his hips lifting off the seat as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation. He was thick and heavy in your hand, the heat of him pulsing against your palm as you began to stroke him slowly, savoring every reaction.

“Fuck… Y/N…” San’s voice was hoarse, his breathing labored as you continued to pump your hand along his length. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you tighter against him as he struggled to keep himself from completely losing control.

But you didn’t want him to hold back. You wanted him wild, unrestrained.

Your thumb brushed over the tip of his cock, slick with precum, and you spread it over his length as you quickened your pace, your hand working him with slow, deliberate strokes that had his body trembling beneath you. His moans grew louder, more desperate, and the way his hips moved in time with your hand told you he was close.

But you weren’t done with him yet.

You leaned forward again, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss as your free hand slid up his chest, your fingers trailing over his pecs before finding one of his nipples. You pinched it lightly, rolling it between your fingers, and San let out a sharp gasp against your mouth, his body jerking in response to the unexpected stimulation.

“Y/N…” He was barely holding on now, his voice rough and strained as his hips bucked into your hand with more urgency. “I’m not… I’m not gonna last if you keep…”

But that was exactly what you wanted. You wanted to see him lose control, to watch him come undone beneath your touch.

Your lips left his, trailing hot kisses down his neck, over his chest, until your mouth found his other nipple. You sucked it into your mouth, your tongue flicking over the sensitive bud as your hand continued to work his cock in firm, steady strokes.

San’s reaction was immediate. His head fell back against the tub, a deep moan escaping his lips as his hands clutched at your waist, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back. But it was no use. You could feel the way his cock twitched in your hand, the way his breathing grew more ragged with each passing second.

He was so close.

“Y/N… fuck… I’m gonna…” His voice was strained, barely a whisper as his hips jerked uncontrollably beneath you.

You didn’t stop. You didn’t let up for even a second. Your hand moved faster, squeezing him just right, your lips and tongue working his nipple with a relentless intensity that had him teetering on the edge.

And then, with a broken moan that was half your name, half a desperate plea, San finally came.

You felt the hot rush of his release spill over your hand, his body convulsing beneath you as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you close as he rode out his orgasm, his entire body trembling with the intensity of it.

You didn’t stop touching him, didn’t stop kissing him, guiding him through it just as he had done for you. You loved the way he looked in that moment—completely undone, vulnerable, and utterly yours.

When it was over, San collapsed back against the tub, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You leaned forward, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his lips, your hand still resting lightly on his chest as you smiled down at him.

He opened his eyes, staring up at you with a dazed, satisfied grin. “You’re… unbelievable,” he murmured, his voice still thick with exhaustion and pleasure.

You grinned back, giving him a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

For a few moments, the two of you simply sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the warm water of the hot tub swirling around you. It felt peaceful, intimate, like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you.

But the sound of laughter and footsteps from inside the cabin quickly reminded you that you weren’t alone. You both turned toward the door, where you could hear the others moving about, probably getting ready to head outside again.

San chuckled softly, pulling you closer. “We should probably head back in before someone notices we’ve been gone too long.”

You both hurried out of the hot tub, the cool air hitting your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. San helped you tug the cover back over the tub, your fingers fumbling a little from the cold. Once everything was back in place, you quickly grabbed your towels and wrapped them around yourselves, laughing as you stumbled toward the cabin.

Thankfully, the door wasn’t locked, and you slipped back inside the warmth, your body still tingling from the heated moments with San. You thought you had made a clean escape—until you walked into the common area.

There, sprawled across the couches and chairs, were the rest of the ATEEZ members, mid-game of Solitaire. They all turned to look at you and San as you entered, dripping wet and shivering like a pair of soaked rats. You were definitely worse off, your hair still damp and sticking to your neck, while San’s was mostly dry.

Yeosang was the first to speak, his eyebrows raised as he looked between the two of you. “Looks like you had fun.”

You glanced at San, whose lips quirked up in a guilty smile. Before either of you could respond, Wooyoung groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch cushions. “Great, now I don’t want to go in the hot tub anymore.”

Hongjoong, who had been shuffling through the deck of cards, let out an exasperated sigh. “You guys contaminated the tub already? We’ve only been here for one day.”

Seonghwa, ever the calm one, simply shrugged. “Just means we need to clean it before we get in. No big deal.”

“I’m never getting in that thing,” Jongho muttered, folding his arms over his chest with a look of disgust. “You two better be the ones cleaning it.”

Mingi, however, burst out laughing. “Doing it in the hot tub, huh? That’s gotta be a bucket list thing.” He winked, clearly enjoying your flustered expressions.

You pulled your towel tighter around your body, cheeks flushed, not just from the cold. San, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the attention. “What can I say? It’s a good spot,” he teased, earning a round of groans and playful jeers from the others.

“Come on, San, at least try to be subtle,” Yunho chuckled, though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he dealt the next round of cards.

“You should both go get changed before you catch a cold,” Seonghwa suggested kindly, giving you an understanding smile.

“Yeah, and come back for a game,” Hongjoong added. “I could use another victim—I mean, player.”

You and San exchanged amused looks before quickly scurrying off to your rooms, eager to change out of your wet clothes. As you reached your door, San stopped you with a playful grin, leaning closer so only you could hear. “Wanna meet up later? My room?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, pretending to consider his offer. “Not very subtle, San.”

He shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I could be even less subtle.”

Before you could respond, you heard a voice from down the hall. “I hope you’re not planning anything scandalous tonight. We’ve got plans to play a drinking game later.” It was Wooyoung, smirking at the two of you from the hallway.

San groaned, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ll see,” you teased before slipping inside your room to change, eager to get back to the others—and perhaps more excited about what might come later.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. The night was still young, and with two weeks left at the cabin, there was no telling what else was in store for you and San. But one thing was for sure—you wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.

[p-erse-phone]

Losing Focus - Ch. 18

- 18 : I know you (written)

word count: 2.4k

Y/N sat in the backseat of Beomgyu’s car, her friends’ laughter filling the small space. The group had met up earlier, taken pictures and hung out, but it was all in preparation for tonight—a night that already had Y/N’s stomach in knots. Something so ordinary to everyone else felt like a huge deal to her. Her heart beat a few beats too quickly as she absentmindedly toyed with the hem of her shirt.

Beomgyu and Sangmi had been giving Y/N the rundown: who was going to be there, watch your drink, other things like that. Y/N nodded along, but the truth was, she wasn’t planning to drink much—if at all. The idea of maybe losing control in a house full of strangers wasn’t super enticing. She’d already made up her mind to slip out early once Sangmi inevitably got herself caught up in who knows what.

Beomgyu’s voice broke through her thoughts. “I forgot about parking. It’s a bitch every time,” he grumbled. They drove around a bit trying to find a spot in the abundance of parked cars until he found an open spot between two cars,  his hands gripping the wheel as he attempted a parallel park.

After what felt like a lifetime of three-point turns and sighs, the group finally exited the car. Sangmi led the way, clearly excited but still keeping her cool aura, while Y/N lagged behind, fidgeting with her outfit. It was different from her usual style, and she couldn’t shake the thought that it looked wrong on her. Sunoo must have noticed her nerves because he looped his arm through hers and shot her an encouraging smile. “You look great. Relax.”

The muffled bass of music seeped through the front door as Sangmi pushed it open, ushering them inside. The scene was less chaotic than Y/N had imagined—too many movies, she laughed at herself—but it was still bustling. Voices mingled with music, and groups clustered in corners, laughing and chatting.

“Let’s find Heeseung,” Beomgyu suggested, his eyes scanning the room. They soon approached a tall boy with sharp features, flanked by another equally striking figure. Beomgyu introduced Y/N to Heeseung, the host, and his friend Yeonjun. “Thanks for coming,” Heeseung said warmly before turning his attention back to Beomgyu and Sangmi.

Y/N found herself under Yeonjun’s curious gaze. “Y/N, right? Are you new this year?” His smile was genuine, and Y/N’s breath hitched. Yeonjun wasn’t just handsome—he was Yeonjun. Famous, even on Decelis’s campus. She’d harbored a quiet appreciation for him for a while now.

“Yes,” she managed, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. Yeonjun leaned in slightly, asking her questions and drawing her into an easy conversation. His attentiveness felt surreal, and before she knew it, Sangmi’s voice cut in: “Sunoo has gone to find Sunghoon and we’re grabbing drinks.”

Y/N nodded, assuming she’d follow, but Yeonjun’s parting words stayed with her. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Let’s talk more next time.” His smile lingered in her mind as she trailed after Sangmi.

People came and people went from the Party and everyone seemed to know each other to an extent. Sangmi, Sunoo, and Beomgyu kept introducing Y/N to different people, and in all honesty she had gotten a little worn out of the repeating introductions and small talk, slowly secluding to the wall with each conversation. The alcohol had obviously started hitting Sangmi’s bloodstream and Y/N admired her for her ability to draw people in. Y/N’s eyes had been going back and forth between the front door and her friends for a while now. She had been wrestling with the idea of leaving, but didn’t want her friends to make a big deal, or them have leave because of her. When they were clearly enjoying themselves and preoccupied, Y/N made her way quietly towards the door.  

“Running away already?” A teasing tone stopped her for a second. Looking around she say the owner of the voice. Riki. He descended the stairs, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I’m not running away,” she retorted, trying to match his playful energy, but clearly caught. 

“So…” he trailed off pointing at the front door. “You’re not about to walk out that door and not about to walk home?” Riki raised his eyebrow at her. “No.” She said back avoiding eye contact. “Mmhmm.” He hummed back sarcastically. 

“Why’d you assume I was going to walk?” Y/N questioned.

“Because I know you.”

Y/N stared at him for a second, his words floating around in her mind. Riki’s eye contact lingered while a grin appeared on his face. “Don’t I?” Riki chuckled, his demeanor light despite the faint flush on his cheeks that hinted at a few drinks.

“Where’s Jungwon? Wait, when did you guys come?” Y/N questioned Riki. She hadn’t seen them walk in.

“He’s here, wandering around somewhere with Jay. I’m surprised you didn’t run into him.” 

“Yah I’m not sure–doesn’t help that I’ve been glued to the wall.” Y/N laughs. “Let’s find Jungwon,” Riki suggests, but Y/N hesitated. She wanted to say hi to Jungwon, of course, but... She at this moment, as much as she hated to admit it, really wanted to leave. She just felt out of place and a little bit insecure. These people had been running in the same circles for a while now, and if they hadn’t they were confident enough to join the group. Y/N couldn’t seem to muster the same confidence.

He sarcastically sighed and pushed her playfully towards the door. “Okay okay, let’s go.” He shook his head. 

“Wait, huh?” Y/N said confused looking back at him. Riki looked at her, amused. 

“I’m taking you home,” he declared, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and steering her toward the door.

“Riki, you don’t have to—”

Pressing a finger to his lips, he interrupted, “Don’t argue. I’m not letting you walk alone.”

“I’m a big girl Riki, I got it.” She said to him playfully standing tall and puffing her chest. “Yah yah sure sure.” he rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Maybe you could scare the bugs, at most.” pulling her towards the door opening it. 

“Riki, where are you going?” Y/N hears a girl’s voice call out. She turns her head in his arm, trying to match the voice to a face. She finally lands on a girl standing at the top of the stairs that Riki had come down just a few minutes earlier. “I’ll be back.” Riki said back to her as she walked down the stairs. Y/N and her met eyes, where eye contact was held for a moment too long, before the girl glanced at Riki. She gave him a look, sighed, and walked away. Riki closed the door behind them and let go of Y/N walking alongside her. 

“Is it really okay to leave?” Y/N asked Riki, her voice had a hint of concern.

“It’s just a party.” Riki shrugged. “There’ll be about a hundred more this year.”

“I could’ve driven you, but…” he chuckled. “You know.” 

“It’s okay, I like night time walks.” Y/N takes a deep breath of the night air looking up at the sky. She wished she could see the stars, but the city lights drowned them out.

“Yeah, I remember.” Riki said softly. His voice carried a rare sincerity, and Y/N glanced at him, surprised.

The conversation flowed easily as they walked, her earlier discomfort melting away. When Yeonjun’s name came up, Riki’s expression shifted—a flicker of something she couldn’t quite place. 

“I met and talked to Yeonjun for a little bit.” Y/N giggled. “He’s one of the only people at our University that I was following before enrolling.” 

“Hmm.. yeah Yeonjun is cool.” He nodded. His tone still stiff. Y/N couldn’t read his expression, but she continued. “I love his style, and I heard he’s super talented. He was really nice as well.”

“You mean you like his face?”

Y/N playfully hit his arm in response “Why do you care?”

Riki gave her a look before faking a scoff and softly yanking on a strand of her hair. “I didn’t take you as a fan girl.” He replied, his regular demeanor returning. 

“I’m not.” she playfully protested.

As they strolled under the street lights, Y/N felt a warmth settle in her chest. Maybe the night hadn’t gone as planned, but somehow, it felt right in the end.

Y/N and Riki continued walking as the school came into view in front of them, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. The easy rhythm of their conversation felt like a balm after the strained tension she’d felt at the party. Riki’s laid-back energy was as comforting as ever.

“Wait,” Riki said suddenly, tilting his head. “Don’t you live off campus? Are you going to take the bus this late?”

Y/N chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “No, no. We kind of assumed we’d be out late, so I’m just staying at Sangmi’s.”

Riki nodded, though his gaze lingered on her, as if turning the thought over in his head. “Makes sense.”

When they reached Sangmi’s apartment building, Y/N began to say goodbye, but before she could finish her sentence, Riki’s voice cut through the quiet.

“Why did you leave?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the abruptness of his question. It felt as if he was… stalling. His smile is smaller now, his face almost serious.

“Oh, you know, just… tired.” Y/N forced a laugh, but it came out stilted.

Riki didn’t buy it. His sharp eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavier. 

“Y/N.”

“What?” she said, trying to sound casual but failing.

“Come on.” His tone was soft but insistent.

Y/N sighed, her shoulders sinking slightly under his gaze. “Fine,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “I just felt… out of place, I guess.” She shrugged, her words tumbling out before she could stop them. “Everyone there just blends in so easily, and I feel like—like I don’t belong. Like I’m some kind of imposter or something.” The confession hung in the air between them, and Y/N quickly laughed, trying to smooth over her vulnerability. “But it’s just me probably reading too much into things, so don’t worry about it.”

Riki shook his head, his brow furrowing. “You’re not an imposter,” he said firmly. Then his lips grew into a smirk, lightening the mood. “If anything, those assholes are the imposters.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her chest loosening as his playful tone chased away her self-doubt.

“You should’ve found me,” Riki added casually, but there was something in his voice that caught her off guard.

She hesitated, her smile faltering. “Yeah, right. Me, you, and ‘them,’” she said, adding air quotes for emphasis.

Riki raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I thought you’d be busy,” she teased, bumping his shoulder lightly. Y/N might’ve been naive at times, but she wasn’t oblivious, she had seen Riki with girls, and she had definitely heard about it from Sangmi.

“Hmm.” He hummed, his expression unreadable for a moment before breaking into a grin. “I would’ve hung out with you. For real.”

Her heart stumbled, an unsteady beat she tried to ignore. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, shaking her head.

“Good,” he said, his tone almost too casual. “Next time, you’re sticking with me.” He stopped before quickly adding “and Jungwon, Jay, and Jake.”

Before Y/N could reply, Riki’s phone buzzed. The screen’s glow lit up his face as he glanced at the message, his jaw tightening slightly before he shut it off.

“You can go,” Y/N said quickly, waving a hand toward the door. “If someone’s looking for you, I mean, we’re already here—”

“It’s nothing,” Riki interrupted, his voice firm. He moved toward the steps leading to Sangmi’s building and sat down, motioning for her to join him. “Sit. I don’t want to leave yet.”

Y/N hesitated, her heart doing that strange, skipping thing again. Finally, she relented, sinking onto the step beside him.

They talked like they always did—effortlessly—but this time, there were moments where the conversation felt different. Louder in its silences. Warmer in its pauses. When Y/N drifted into a quiet moment, staring at the stars above, she felt a gaze, and turned her head.

Riki was already looking at her.

“What?” she asked, her voice soft, turning her head shyly. 

“Nothing,” he said, a charming smirk spreading across his face. “You look good today.”

Her breath caught, the words landing like a small jolt in her chest. She looked away, brushing off the compliment with a laugh. “I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes.”

“Not at all,” he said quietly, his gaze still lingering on her.

The weight of Sangmi’s constant warnings about Riki echoed faintly in her mind, but she shoved them aside. He was just being nice, she told herself. Friendly like always. Besides, she was sure she wasn’t his type at all so there's no way he was coming on to her, she thought.

When his phone buzzed again, this time it was a call, Riki sighed and answered with a curt, “Hello?”

Y/N caught snippets of the conversation—the sharp tone of Jay’s voice, the mention of Jake’s disappearance.

“You left the party to… walk her home?” Jay’s voice was confused even through the phone.

Riki laughed, the sound low and unbothered. “Yeah. I did.”

After hanging up, he stood and offered his hand to Y/N. She hesitated for only a second before taking it, letting him pull her to her feet.

“Time to go, I guess,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual energy.

“Thanks, Riki,” Y/N said softly as she stepped toward the door.

He grinned, the expression lingering on his face for a beat too long. 

“Anything for you.”

 Y/N gave a slow nod in response and shut the door behind her, making her way to the elevator. Her mind replayed the night over again as she got ready for bed, and then again as she laid in Sangmi’s bed ignoring the fact that her friends were blowing up her phone, turning it off. She sat awake for a moment thinking about Riki’s words, he was always friendly, sure, and they got along great as friends, close friends even. Similar to Beomgyu or Sunoo, but he was never THIS friendly before. She chalked it up to him being a little loose from the alcohol, unaware of what he was saying… but part of her couldn’t help but wonder about it until she finally fell asleep.

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author note; 2/2. persephone posts when she says she will challenge(impossible) lol, but anyway here it is :)

taglist : open

@chiaki-nanami-aesthetic @gweoriz @tasnemluvs @xxxnrigi @madebylilia @ariluvssssss100 @andassortedkpop @roarr-ki @ right-person-wrong-time @heeseungspookie @heartheejake @starefire21 @lovestruck-sky @rikidaze @kimuranirishii @kizumis @bananna-12 @nishiriks

[pupkid]

run away

characters — dylan lenivy (the quarry) and child!reader (platonic!!)

description — child!reader has been having a hard time at the summer camp, getting harrassed and bullied by the other kids... after they run away into the woods, their favorite counselor Dylan finds them and comforts them. tags & cw — hurt/comfort, bullying themes; wc 1974

a fic for age regressors and age dreamers and anyone aligned (❁´◡`❁)

i actually wrote the first draft back when the quarry had only just come out! but only recently fully revised it and decided to post :] hope you enjoy!!

The sound of the tall grass catching against your legs, heart thumping in your chest, your breath ragged and loud; you ran as fast as you could, away from the source of your agony. Your body in the flight mode, fleeing from danger, from humiliation, from the sadistic laughter and mockery that was echoing within your mind like the screeching of a thousand hyenas.

Running away from that laughter, running away from humiliation, running away from those malicious grins, running away from the pain, running away, running away...

You had no idea where you were going, you just had to run, run as fast as you could from this nightmare, escape everything. Through the greenery, between the trees, dodging the branches, jumping over logs, the woods hiding you from the rest of the world. Your body knew where it had to go and you found yourself near the river, your legs carried you all the way there from the camp. You'd been there before, with the counselors. Not on your own though.

You panted, trying to catch your breath and fighting away your tears. You weren't going to cry. No, you weren't going to cry. You—

Ah. No matter what, you couldn't control the emotions that came welling up from inside and the tears started filling your vision anyway. Bitter, bitter, lonely, hurt tears; tears that could not be filled with anything else but pain and despair.

You sat down on the log, sniffling and wiping your face, but only shedding more tears. You were completely at a loss, a broken, sad mess.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. You didn't deserve this. Why were things this way?

You kept crying for a while before the tears ran out and you just stayed there, surrounded by trees that gently swayed in the wind and the rushing river.

You'd wanted to spend this summer making friends and having fun... not get bullied by some assholes. It felt like it was going to take an eternity for the camp to be over, and you just wanted your parents to come and get you already. But you knew you had to stick it out for the entire length to get back home and you hated that.

You had no idea how much time had passed before you heard footsteps approaching. Startled, you jumped onto your feet, swiftly turning around and ready to just... punch someone! You were so scared and now also angry and you weren't going to let these bastards torture you any longer!

"Hey! You assholes!" You yelled out, desperate, hurt, and angry. "Don't you fucking dare approach me!"

To your surprise, the footsteps stopped. Then resumed. Tense, fists clenched, you stayed where you were, ready to face the bullies and just straight up fight them. But to your relief, from amongst the greenery appeared a tall figure that you recognized – one of your counselors. Dylan.

"Now that's not a very nice way to greet your favorite counselor, don't you agree, (Y/N)?" Dylan said in a lighthearted tone. Despite being ready to melt from the shame, you knew you weren't in trouble.

"I'm sorry, I thought it was... I didn't know it was you," you said quietly while your face grew red from embarrassment and shame.

Dylan gave you a good look but shrugged it off, "I thought so," he replied. "Relax already, it's no big deal."

He approached you and sat on the log, a smile on his face. Dylan patted the space next to him, inviting you to join.

You kind of knew what was coming – some kind of serious talk and you were likely going to get reprimanded. You knew you weren't in the wrong and none of this was your fault, so you felt annoyed but resigned to your fate. It just wasn't fair that you had to suffer because some jerks just... argh, whatever.

With a heavy sigh you waddled towards him and hauled yourself onto the log, plopping your butt onto it. Despite your apprehension, Dylan didn't look angry or tense at all. He seemed relaxed, just as usual, and exuded the laid back and playful energy that made him one of the most likable counselors. He was like a big brother to you (and to lots of other kids), he had so much charm and was so vibrant and energetic, as though always ready to party, and he always made you feel welcome. The other counselors were all nice in their own way and it wasn't like they were super strict either but Dylan was something special, and you missed his chill vibes when he wasn't around.

"Okay. So," Dylan clapped his hands authoritatively. "Spill the story. I want to hear exactly what led you to running away from the camp."

You cringed at the thought of revealing the truth. It was both embarrassing and seemed pointless. What could Dylan possibly do anyway? Scolding those kids would likely just backfire.

Argh, you hated dealing with this kind of a situation and being put on the spot. Running off and having Dylan come search for you made you feel weak and incompetent. How you wished you could be strong just for once and handle things differently!

With a sting in your eyes and tears threatening to fall again, you fought to suppress them and appear collected and in control of your emotions.

What a mess.

As though reading your mind, Dylan reassured you:

"Hey, you don't need to worry. I'm not gonna do anything that like... compromises you, you know? I won't insert myself into this... conflict, if you don't want me to. I just want to know what happened, is all."

You still weren't too sure but... despite your lingering doubts, you decided to give it a shot. Try opening up to Dylan. You knew he was trustworthy and a safe enough person to share these kinds of things with… even if, frankly, you just wished you could hide away instead of having this kind of conversation.

With slow and hesitant words, you shared the story. How those kids had banded together since the camp began. They teased and provoked you, along with several others. Today's encounter had been particularly intense, leaving you feeling overwhelmed. You felt like you’d reached your breaking point today.

"What exactly did they do?" Dylan pressed gently.

You didn't want to relive the memories, but you reluctantly shared them. It hurt to recall the incident, but it also filled you with anger.

Those kids had offered a truce, claiming they no longer wanted to be enemies. For a brief moment, you actually believed them and hoped for a peaceful summer. How foolish of you. It was all a cruel trick. You should have known better.

You didn't suspect a thing when suddenly, a bucket full of dirt and god knows what else was hurled at you. Luckily, your reflexes kicked in, and you dodged just in time, avoiding the full brunt of the disgusting mess. They didn't think to pour the bucket somewhere from above, simply one of them had snuck up and tried to throw it at you.

Despite that and their poor aim, the prank still left you feeling hurt and humiliated. Those jerks laughed at your reaction, and you were left frozen in shock and anger. It was a horrible situation, even if they had missed the mark. The memory still stung, reminding you how gullible you had been, falling blindly into their false kindness.

In a fit of anger, you yelled at them, but they were completely unfazed. Frustration surged through you, and you instinctively pushed one of them before running away.

You cursed yourself for being such a coward. The situation made you feel so vulnerable. But more than anything, you just wanted to let the tears flow and release the overwhelming emotions building inside you.

Dylan offered you a gentle gesture, patting your shoulder reassuringly. You turned to see his empathetic expression, which only heightened your emotional turmoil.

Tears welled up in your eyes as a mix of anger and humiliation washed over you once more. With an outburst, you exclaimed, "They pranked me! They said they wanted to be friends, but they were lying! It was all a cruel prank, and I ran away!”

Dylan wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, crying into his shirt. He didn't speak, allowing you to release your emotions while softly rubbing your arm.

"There, there..." he comforted softly. There was a moment of silence before he continued. "It's okay, kiddo. It's awful how they treated you. Well... have been treating you. They're real mean, huh?" He paused, sighing before adding, "Hey, I know what it's like. Being bullied and all."

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, a mix of surprise and curiosity in your gaze.

Dylan chuckled softly, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "Yeah, I know, it's hard to imagine with how cool I am, right?"

You chuckled in response, wiping away your tears. Dylan reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, gently holding it to your face. "Blow," he instructed, and you obeyed. He carefully wiped your nose with the handkerchief.

"There you go," Dylan said softly. "Anyway, yeah, I was bullied too. I was a bit different, you know? That sort of thing makes you a target. You stand out in some way and attract unwanted attention. So I get it.”

You looked up at him expectantly, hoping to hear more but Dylan merely squeezed your shoulder in response, giving his reassurance. It didn’t seem like he really was about to delve deeper into the subject. And you weren’t about to press him about it.

…But your curiosity still got the best of you.

“T-tell me more?” You got through your teary hiccups.

Dylan chuckled and shook his head. “No. Sorry, kiddo. It's not something I feel comfortable sharing right now. But hey, maybe someday we can have that conversation when the time is right?”

As your tears subsided and you kept gradually calming down, Dylan continued to hold you in a comforting embrace, allowing you to regain your composure. You became aware of the wet spot on his shirt, but he reassured you, insisting it wasn't a concern.

"Don't worry about it," Dylan said with a sympathetic smile. "Feeling better now?"

You nodded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief. At least someone was on your side! At least someone understood, truly understood you… It was a comfort to have an adult on your side, especially one who seemed to get your situation and empathize with your feelings. Many adults weren't as understanding, making Dylan's support all the more valuable.

"Alright. I assume you're not all that keen on me intervening directly, then?"

You shrugged tiredly and Dylan offered a warm smile, respecting your reluctance.

As he pondered the situation, he proposed, "Well, you know what? How about we brainstorm a solution together, hm? I don't want to make things worse, and I don't want you to keep suffering from this. How does that sound?"

You nodded in agreement, feeling drained from the emotional outburst and all the crying you’ve done. The fatigue was setting in, and the thought of sleep seemed quite appealing. You yawned, signaling your exhaustion.

Dylan hugged you tight for the last time and patted your shoulder before standing up. "Okay, (Y/N), let's go back to the camp,” he suggested. “You look tired, so maybe you could catch a little nap before dinner. And if you have problems again, don’t hesitate to just tell someone, anyone, okay? And you can always come to me. I got your back, kiddo."

Dylan offered his hand and you accepted it, following his lead as he guided you back to the camp.

[madi-writes-things]

Stay… (Jake Webber X Reader)

Summary:

“I’m at the hospital” “What do you mean?!”

Word Count: 1,046

TW: Hurt/Comfort, Arguments, Car Accidents, Hospitals, Head Injury, Use of Y/N

You almost never fight, but everyone has their breaking point… and tonight appeared to be both of yours. It wasn’t even anything big. Jake had to go to an important dinner meeting, and you felt left out. By the time he got home you were already in a mood, which only pissed him off. He was just trying to help, but you refused to tell him what was wrong.

“It’s not a big deal.” you lied through your teeth. It hurt your feelings when he didn’t invite you to dinner, when you knew for a fact that the other influencers had brought their partners. “Don’t worry about it” your words were laced with venom.

A look flashed across his face that was unreadable, but his words quickly filled in the context. “Oh… so that’s what we’re doing?” He was really starting to get mad now. It was too late to tell him that it really didn’t matter, and that you just want to forget about the whole ordeal. “You refuse to tell me why your mad, and you just get pissy when i ask… I’m done trying to have a rational fucking discussion with you”

You knew that he was right, but his words just made you more upset. “I shouldn’t have to fucking tell you why I’m mad Jake, maybe if you thought about anyone other than yourself you could figure it out!” At this point tears were streaming down your face, and you could see that they had started to form in his eyes as well. You didn’t mean for it to come out that harsh, but you also didn’t know how else to make him understand that he really hurt you.

“I can’t stand you when you act like this…” He turned to walk to your shared room as he said this. The pain in your heat grew tenfold hearing him say he couldn’t stand you. You knew he didn’t mean it, but that didn’t soften the blow. You immediately walked into y’all’s room and stated grabbing clothes from your drawer, quickly packing them into a tote bag. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He looked confused.

“Since you ‘can’t stand me’ right now, i figured I’d get out of your hair… I’m going to a friends house.” You watched as he tried to think of something to say, before eventually deciding to let you go. You both needed some space and time to reset.

You quickly packed enough clothes for a week, before going down to your car. You wanted him to stop you, but you knew that he wouldn’t. You don’t blame him, you knew he didn’t want you to go… but you also know that he needed space too. As you started driving you realized that you didn’t know where you were going, you decided to find a lot to park in and call a friend.

As you exited the highway you noticed that traffic was coming to a stop, so you started to slow down. A strange sense of panic rushed over you as you looked in your rear view mirror. Oh shit oh shit oh-

***

You woke up 3 minutes later to EMS crowded around your car. You quickly roll your window down and ask what happened. As they explain what happened you reach up to touch your throbbing head, only to see blood on your hand as you pull it away. You got very light headed at the sight of the blood, and suddenly everything was dark again.

***

As soon as you got to the hospital you knew you needed to call Jake. You waited until thy were done with your exam, partially because you wanted to know how bad it was… but mostly because you were scared that Jake wouldn’t answer. How were you supposed to know that Jake had been crying since you left, just hoping you would call. The phone rang three times before you heard a sleepy voice greeting you.

“Y/N?” You realize that you didn’t responded fast enough when he speaks again. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m in the hospital.” Your voice breaks a little at the end, you haven’t stopped crying since you woke up in the ambulance. Unfortunately for the EMS people you refuse to talk abut anything other than the fight.

“What do you mean!?” This broke you, you couldn’t handle the thought of Jake being mad at you anymore. “Y/N, where are you?”

You told him what hospital you were at, and that you were okay. Jake was there in less than five minutes, you didn’t question how he got there so quick. As soon as you saw him you started crying… again. You could see the look on his face change from worry to relief to shock within three seconds of finding you. You understood why… the nurse had let you look at yourself in a mirror, and it wasn’t good.

Once he registered that he had found you, he rushed to you. “What happened, are you okay?” He reached up to inspect the bruises and small cuts on your face. You flinched away. It hurt to move your face, and someone touching it right now wasn’t something you wanted to think of.

“I’m so sorry… for everything” Jake quickly assured you that hew was sorry too, and that it wasn’t your fault that any of this happened. “They said that i could go home as soon as i got a ride.”

***

As soon as you and Jake got home he started making a bed on the couch. It didn’t register what he was doing at first. “You can take the bed, I’m sure it isn’t good to sleep on the couch after an accident.”

He was being so respectful, but all that you wanted was for him to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. “Don’t…” It was so quiet that he almost didn’t hear it, you didn’t know what to say. “Can you please stay with me, I don’t want to be alone.” He followed you to y’all’s shared bed, doing his best to hold you without upsetting a bruise. You fell asleep to him telling you how much he loves you, and you’ve never felt safer.

———————————————————

I hope that y’all enjoyed it, feel free to send a request my way.

-Madi <;3

[tcffantfu276]

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains of Dr. Agasa’s living room, casting a warm, golden glow over the cluttered space. Conan sat cross-legged on the floor, his phone resting in his hands. The soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the distant ticking of the grandfather clock filled the room, creating a quiet, almost meditative atmosphere.

On the screen of his phone was a photo of Kaito Kid, captured by a news helicopter during his latest heist. The thief was mid-air, his white cape billowing like a pair of wings against the night sky. His grin was as sharp and confident as ever, a playing card held between his fingers like a challenge to the world. Conan’s thumb hovered over the image, his expression softening in a way that was rare for the usually sharp-eyed detective.

He didn’t even realize he was smiling until Haibara’s voice cut through the silence, dry and knowing.

"Let me guess," she said, leaning against the doorway with a cup of tea in hand. Her tone was as calm as ever, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "It’s about him again."

Conan blinked, startled out of his thoughts. He quickly locked his phone, the screen going dark, and tried to school his expression into something neutral. "What are you talking about?"

Haibara raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smirk. She stepped into the room, her movements graceful and unhurried, and set her tea down on the coffee table before sitting across from him. "Your thief. Kaito Kid. Don’t play dumb—it doesn’t suit you."

Conan frowned, his cheeks tinged with pink. "I wasn’t—"

"You were," Haibara interrupted, her tone matter-of-fact. She tilted her head slightly, studying him with that piercing gaze of hers. "You had that same dopey look on your face that you always get when he’s involved. Honestly, it’s a miracle no one else has noticed."

Conan opened his mouth to protest, but Haibara wasn’t done. She leaned back on her hands, her smirk widening. "You think you’re so subtle, but you’re not. Every time his name comes up, you get this… look. Like you’re trying not to smile but failing miserably."

Conan’s frown deepened, but there was no real heat behind it. He glanced away, his fingers tightening around his phone. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Haibara rolled her eyes, her expression a mix of exasperation and fondness. "Of course you don’t. Because you’re oblivious. But for the record, it’s painfully obvious to anyone paying attention. You’re lucky the professor is as clueless as you are."

Conan crossed his arms, his expression a mix of embarrassment and defiance. "Even if I was looking at something related to Kid, it’s not a big deal. He’s a criminal. It’s my job to keep an eye on him."

Haibara’s smirk turned almost predatory. "Is that what you’re calling it now? ‘Keeping an eye on him’? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks more like you’re smitten."

Conan’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he looked away, his ears burning. Haibara watched him for a moment, her smirk softening into something almost fond. She reached for her tea, taking a slow sip before speaking again.

"You know," she said, her voice quieter now, "it’s not a bad thing. To care about someone. Even if they’re a thief."

Conan glanced at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. There was a rare gentleness in her expression, one that she didn’t often show. "It’s not like that," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

Haibara shrugged, setting her cup down. "If you say so. But for what it’s worth… he’s not the worst person you could be smiling at like that."

Conan didn’t respond, his gaze dropping to his phone. He unlocked it, the photo of Kid still on the screen. For a moment, he just stared at it, his expression softening despite himself. The thief’s confident grin, the way the moonlight caught the edges of his cape, the playful glint in his eyes—it was all so *Kaito*. And for some reason, it made Conan’s chest feel warm in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Haibara hid a smile behind her cup as she stood, brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. "Just don’t let it distract you too much. We’ve got bigger problems to deal with."

Conan nodded, though his eyes didn’t leave the screen. "Yeah. I know."

As Haibara left the room, Conan’s thumb brushed over the photo, his lips curving into that same soft, unconscious smile. And for a moment, just a moment, he let himself enjoy the warmth blooming in his chest.

[nxzz-skz]

trapped in these walls

ᯓ★ non-idol!Jay falling for his roommates best friend (fem!reader)

ᯓ★warnings: fluff, angst, kissing, slight mention of drinking

ᯓ★note: i'm starting a tag list so leave a comment or ask to be added!

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

Jay was always a big fan of order. He liked his life structured, his routines meticulous, and his relationships always carefully managed. That's why moving in with Jake had seemed perfect. Jake was easygoing, friendly, and-most importantly-absent enough to leave Jay to his music and studies.

He didn't plan on Jake's best friend throwing his world into disorder.

It started on a rainy Thursday evening. Jay had come home soaked from the downpour, guitar in hand and his hair and jacket dripping onto the floor.He kicked off his shoes and walked into the living room, fully expecting to find it empty. Instead, there she was.

She was curled up on the couch next to Jake, her legs tucked under her, a steaming mug in her hand as she laughed at something Jake said. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt that looked suspiciously like it belonged to Jake, her laugh deep and unrestrained, the kind that filled the space around her and made everything else feel insignificant.

“Oh, you’re back,” Jake said casually, glancing at Jay.

She turned, her eyes meeting his, and Jay froze. She was beautiful in the most distracting way—bright eyes, a wicked grin, and an air of confidence that left him momentarily speechless.

“You must be Jay,” she said, standing up with an easy grace that made him feel unreasonably self-conscious. Her smile was warm but mischievous, like she was sizing him up and daring him to keep up with her energy. She offered him a hand.

“Uh, yeah,” Jay mumbled. He glanced at Jake, silently asking who this whirlwind of a person was.

“Y/N,” she said, answering his unspoken question. “Jake’s best friend. I’m kind of a package deal around here.”

Jake smirked. “She’s here so much, I should probably start charging her rent.”

Y/N laughed in response but Jay stayed silent. He was too focused on the way her hand felt in his, warm and firm, and the way her eyes seemed to study him like she already knew all his secrets.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

Y/N quickly became a constant presence in Jay’s life. She showed up at the apartment nearly every day, either with Jake or on her own, and somehow managed to make herself at home in every corner of their space.

She was everywhere—lounging on the couch with Jake, raiding the fridge for snacks, sprawled out on the floor working on some project for school. Jay tried to keep his distance, but it was impossible.

She had this way of drawing him out without even trying. When Jake wasn’t around, she’d strike up conversations with him, asking questions about his music or teasing him about how serious he always looked.

“You know, you’re allowed to smile,” she said one evening, leaning over the back of the couch as Jay sat on the floor, fiddling with his guitar.

“I smile,” he replied defensively.

“Not that I’ve seen.” She grinned, resting her chin in her hand. “What’s it going to take to get one out of you?”

Jay glanced up at her, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. “I’m not that easy to crack.”

“Challenge accepted.”

And just like that, she became an undeniable part of his life.

One night, she found him on the balcony, staring out at the city lights with his guitar resting on his knee.

“You always look so serious,” she said, stepping outside and leaning against the railing.

“Maybe I am,” he replied, not looking up.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “What’s so heavy on your mind?”

Jay hesitated. He wasn’t used to sharing his thoughts with anyone, let alone someone like her. But something about her felt safe, like she could see through all the walls he’d built.

“Music,” he said finally. “I’ve been stuck.”

She smiled. “Want to talk about it?”

That night, they talked for hours, long after Jake had gone to bed. Y/N had a way of making him feel lighter, like the world wasn’t quite so heavy when she was around.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

As the weeks passed, Jay found himself looking forward to her visits more than he cared to admit. She was funny, smart, and unapologetically herself, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

The problem was Jake.

Jake was fiercely protective of Y/N, and while he never explicitly said he had feelings for her, it was clear he thought of her as more than just a friend. The way he lit up when she walked into the room, the way he always found excuses to touch her arm or brush her hair out of her face—it was obvious to anyone who was paying attention.

Jay told himself that his growing feelings for Y/N were inappropriate, that he needed to keep his distance. But the more time he spent with her, the harder that became.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The first real crack in their dynamic came one evening when Jake was out of town for a soccer tournament. Y/N showed up at the apartment with a bottle of wine and her usual bright energy.

“Jake’s not here,” Jay said when he opened the door.

“I know,” she replied, holding up the wine with a playful smirk. “But you are. Come on, I’m not drinking this alone.”

They ended up on the balcony, the cool night air wrapping around them as they shared the wine and a couple snacks, and talked about everything from childhood memories to their biggest fears.

At some point, Y/N moved closer, a little tipsy, her shoulder brushing against his. Jay’s heart raced, and he tried to ignore the way her laughter sent shivers down his spine.

“You’re different from anyone I’ve ever met,” she said softly, looking at him with an intensity that was almost suffocating.

Jay swallowed hard. “You don’t even know me.”

“Don’t I?”

Before he could respond, she leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant, but when he didn’t pull away, it deepened, her hands tangling in his hair as his slid around her waist. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them and the electricity sparking between them.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his. “Tell me this isn’t just in my head.”

Jay shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not.”

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

For weeks, they tried to keep their relationship a secret, stealing moments whenever Jake wasn’t around. But secrets have a way of unraveling, and theirs came to light in the worst possible way.

Jake walked in on them one afternoon, Y/N straddling Jay’s lap on the couch, her hands buried in his hair as they kissed like the world was ending.

“What the hell?” Jake’s voice was sharp, filled with shock and anger.

Y/N scrambled off Jay, her face pale.

“Jake, I—”

“How long has this been going on?” he demanded, his gaze fixed on Jay.

Jay opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Jake’s jaw tightened. “Unbelievable.” He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Y/N burst into tears, and Jay pulled her into his arms, his heart breaking at the pain on her face.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

In the days that followed, Jake avoided them both, and the tension in the apartment became unbearable. Jay considered ending things with Y/N, convinced that their relationship wasn’t worth losing Jake’s friendship over.

But when he told her this, she looked at him with tears in her eyes. “So you’re just going to throw this away? After everything?”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice heavy with guilt.

She shook her head, stepping back. “If you can’t fight for this, maybe it’s better if we end it.”

She walked out, and for the first time in years, Jay felt truly alone.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

Weeks passed, and Jay poured all his pain and longing into his music. One night, he recorded a song—a raw, emotional confession of love and regret.

Jake was the first to hear it.

“You wrote this for her,” he said, his voice unreadable.

Jay nodded. “I’m sorry, Jake. For everything.”

Jake sighed. “I was mad, yeah. But you love her, don’t you?”

“I do,” Jay admitted.

“Then don’t screw it up.”

⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

Jay found Y/N at her favorite café, sitting by the window with a book in her hands.

“Hey,” he said softly, his heart pounding.

She looked up, her expression guarded. “What are you doing here?”

“I love you,” he blurted out. “And I was an idiot for letting you go. I’ll fight for this, for us, if you’ll let me.”

For a moment, she just stared at him. Then she smiled—a real, breathtaking smile—and stood, pulling him into a kiss that made everything else disappear.

ᯓ★ Send an ask or leave a comment if there's any fics or tropes you could recommend for me to write!

ᯓ★ Reblogs appreciated!

ᯓ★ taglist:

[enaelyork]

Cooper Howard (ghoul) x fem!reader with this prompt:

*someone smacks readers ass*

*gun clicks*

Ghoul - “oh I really wish you hadn’t have done that”

Hi ! Thx for this request ! Here i go :)

Bad idea ~ The Ghoul x F!Reader

Tw : Injurie, Sexual harassement, insultes

Banners by @saradika

It wasn't a good idea.

However, he was used to bad plans, ever since he roamed the wasteland with the firm intention of surviving there. But he had never made a series of bad decisions so quickly.

Let yourself be convinced to be accompanied. Let his new companion in misfortune enter this mess to make a deal.

Really. That being said, this idiot clearly didn't give him a choice.

And he was obliged to follow it because it was the only possible option to know the route to take towards your next objective. Staying in the background, he observed all the eyes on her.

A woman like that wouldn't often walk through the doors of a bounty hunting establishment.

This interest they had in his associate bothered him more than it should and he felt a certain form of inexplicable anger boiling within him.

- I'll do it. Wait outside.

Sitting at the bar, Y/N turned towards him, her eyes filled with burning determination and resentment. It wouldn't be easy to change her mind, not after your little talk last night.

- Do you want to team up now? The Ghoul returned the bitterness in her eyes, resting her elbow on the counter where she had just swallowed her second glass.

What if he wanted to work in a team? Never ! What if this situation made him crazy? Absolutely.

- I didn't say that, I said you had to wait for me outside.

- And I told you that I would take care of this matter.

And if you continue, you're going to have a lot more business to attend to. He thought, observing the eyes fixed on her again. The irrepressible urge to put out each of those eyes was excruciating and he was going to have to keep a low profile if he didn't want the plan to screw up further.

But everything went to hell the moment this idiot placed his ass on the stool that separated you from her, devouring the entirety of her silhouette with a wicked and disgusting look. He shouldn't get involved. After all, Y/N had gotten into this mess alone, you had nothing to share other than a common quest.

It was now time she truly discovered the horror of the world they lived in. So if this guy wanted to try anything, she would defend herself or find out the hard way that there weren't all good people here.

- What is such a pretty girl like you doing in this shithole? The man stood between them like a thick, disgusting wall.

The Ghoul looked away, hoping that by detaching himself from this pathetic spectacle, he would also curtail his murderous urges.

- The pretty girl doesn't talk to strangers. You better give me some space.

A smile appeared on the Ghoul's mouth. Presumably, guts wasn’t a privilege Y/N reserved for him. And that was probably what he liked most about her, even if he would never admit it.

- Relax, my beauty. In this brutal world I just want to share a moment of gentleness.

And me a bloody parenthesis, but unfortunately we can't have everything. The Ghoul thought, looking down at the back of the man next to him. He had placed an arm on the table and was already handing Y/N a glass.

- I am not thirsty.

- So maybe you want something else?

That's how everything went wrong.

Him and his rudeness, him now clinging to her and his hand sliding up her thigh to go up to her buttock. He touched her with such eagerness that it was embarrassing and although she wanted to slap him, she did not want to attract the attention of the tenants. Big mistake.

- You have a fucking ass, my beauty. Would you like me to warm it up a bit? It seems that not many people have had the opportunity to…

The man didn't finish his sentence, the pressure he felt between his legs and the very characteristic click of a gun about to fire froze him in place.

- What is…

He met nothing but the cold, imperturbable gaze of the Ghoul. The sinister look he hid in the shadow of his hat would have caused the bar to evacuate immediately. Y/N saw him, she felt anger boiling in the pit of her stomach, causing a completely different reaction in her.

- Try touchin' her again and I guarantee you'll never be able to play with what's between your legs again.

- Such a smart one, you. Are you looking for troubles ? I was there before.

- Big mistake, she belongs to me.

- I don’t belong to…

- Shut it up, sweatheart. I have some scores to settle with this guy.

Oh damn, no problem. Y/N grumbled in a whisper mixing anxiety and excitement. Had he really just threatened a guy because he had the misfortune of touching her and feeling her butt? A thin smile appeared on her lips at this idea, but she preferred to leave this strange reaction to the effect of adrenaline.

- Get out of here where you will end up with a hole between your legs and, rest assured, I will think of you when I caress her with your blood on my hands.

It was too much.

No waves.

No shouting.

No tussle.

Just a stupid hunter freeing himself from the coldness of his gun to flee with a step that he wanted to be serene but which betrayed the panic that reigned within him. The ghoul followed him with his gaze, making sure that it wouldn't occur to his to turn back.

When he disappeared from the bar, however, he felt another figure settle down on the stool next to him.

- Did you really just do that?

YN.

She had taken her place there, next to him. Her eyes glided over him with a light he didn't know existed and it upset him. So much so that he preferred to ensure the safety of his weapon before storing it in its holster.

- I did it. And you will quickly forget everything. That and also your stupid idea. Let's get out of here.

He didn't give her time to respond, taking off from the seat to head towards the exit as well. If she stayed there, too bad for her, he wouldn't intervene twice. But her shadow followed him, and he could make out the sound of her footsteps behind his, hastily approaching him.

- It would be a shame to forget the idea that you could touch me.

This is how he understood that she had reduced him to nothing.

Him and his certainty of now being insensitive.

[star-hoon]

VERSION OF ME — (p. sunghoon)

"CAN YOU LOVE THE VERSION OF ME, I DON'T LET ANYBODY ELSE SEE?"

— MASTERLIST

pairing: sunghoon x fem reader (oneshot)

includes/warnings (16+):  comfort/healing from dark past! au — fluff, angst, profanity, comfort, implied reader has scars, mentions of food/eating  (let me know if i missed anything!)

word count: 1.8k [not proofread]

synopsis: you and sunghoon have been dating for a few months now and he is the definition of your prince charming. but you are finally forced to uncover what you've been hiding from him, and it makes you fear you’ll lose him.

DISCLAIMER: this fic does mention/imply reader has SH scars. it is mentioned without detail and sunghoon is comforting reader about them. *as someone who used to SH, i would never ever mean to trigger anyone. so if this could potentially trigger you, do not read/please proceed with caution.*

author’s note: omg thank you to everyone who read my 'obsessed' & 'intermission' AND for over 110 followers!

i hope you're all okay with this fic idea even its a little on the darker side. but i promise its fluffy n hoon is a sweetie. this one is dedicated to all of you out there who have overcome hardships in the past or dealing with hardships right now, with physical or mental scars. you are so strong, beautiful, and loved!! <3

VERSION OF ME SOUNDTRACK

it was yet the end of another long and arduous day at work. you dragged your feet into the doorway of your apartment, hanging up your bag on the hook in the entry way and removing your shoes that you could feel were forming blisters on your heels.

sighing, you make a beeline to your bedroom. nothing sounded better than a hot shower to change into some comfy clothes. well, maybe one thing sounded better.

cuddling with your boyfriend sunghoon. and his deep voice and hearty laugh. and his silly puns and dad jokes. and him getting so excited talking about film cameras. just—him.

you had never been one to be very clingy nor dependent with your boyfriends. you just valued your own time and pursuing your own goals, but that doesn't mean you care about them any less.

that's why when you and sunghoon started dating 4 months ago, you felt something click in that regard. he fully understood your introverted ways and wouldn't be like the previous guys and complain about feeling 'neglected' or that you were too cold because he knew exactly how it felt to need alone time/your own space and he respected it.

but even still, when you are together he treats you like an absolute princess. carrying your purse for you when you go shopping, opening the car door for you, standing on the side of the sidewalk that faces the street. he also emotionally cared for you, listening to you rant about things big and small and always reassuring you the day before you have a big presentation at work. you felt so deeply cared for and understood, it made your affection for him blossom even more every day.

today was a day that both you and sunghoon had busy schedules so you weren't going to see each other. but you missed him and wanted nothing more than his comforting presence to fill your currently empty apartment.

you made your way to the bathroom, removing your uncomfortable work clothes. as you stood there uncovered you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. you stared down at your arms, the dark marks that littered your skin. you knew you couldn't hide this from him forever.

before you could let any more negative thoughts consume you, you hopped into the shower hoping the hot water can wash away your stress and worries.

after your shower that probably lasted a little too long in some water that was probably a little too hot, you heard a knock at your front door. you peeked to the corner of your phone amidst the tik tok scrolling 10:38 pm.

considering how late it was you were suspicious so you tiptoed to the front door, glancing through the peep hole. it was sunghoon. even though you should feel giddy and excited at the sight of your boyfriend, a twinge of panic arose. you were just wearing a tshirt so your arms were fully exposed, not expecting company. you ran and grabbed the first hoodie you could find. it happened to be one of his.

you opened the front door and there sunghoon stood as handsome as ever, with a bouquet of flowers and a takeout bag. you pouted at the sight in front of you—you were the luckiest girl alive. this was exactly what you needed after a day like today.

"hi hoonie" you softly greeted him, gently hugging him and he leaned down to give you a peck on the cheek. "...what's all this?"

he spoke as he took off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen. "sorry for dropping by so suddenly, i knew weren't planning on seeing each other today but i knew you had a long day and you were gonna be home late so i thought you would want some food. it's your favorite from the restaurant downtown." you nearly started crying, how could be so sweet?

"don't be sorry. thank you, you are seriously the best hoon i missed you a lot today."

"i missed you too. just sit and relax baby, i'll plate everything up for you" sunghoon always insisted on plating food even if it was takeout. he believed it made it taste better, the notion always made you laugh.

despite offering to split the meal with him, he insisted he didn't want any saying he ate dinner earlier. but as you two sat at the dining table chatting about your day, you fed him forkful after forkful anyways.

after finishing the meal you convinced sunghoon to let you wash the dishes. he eventually complied, standing next to you at the sink drying the 3 total dishes you had to wash.

no matter how small the gesture sunghoon was willing to do anything and everything to make it easier for you. you were convinced he came straight out of a fairytale—but your fantasy was going to come crashing down.

"y/n...why do you never roll up your sleeves when you wash the dishes? they're gonna get all wet!" his tone playful.

"i-its fine hoon, these are just a few dishes anyways" you try force a small laugh as a chill runs down your spine.

"come on sweetheart lemme roll 'em up for you..."

"i said it fine-"

his hand reaches towards your sleeves, pulling them up your arm slightly. you reflexively move away from him, your mind went into overdrive.

"SUNGHOON STOP! I SAID IT'S FINE!" your arm harshly shoved his body away from yours, the glass you were holding flying out of your hand. the sound of the glass shattering on the kitchen floor seemed to echo in the room.

silence fell between you two. your eyes wide and brimming with tears, your chest heaving from your heavy breathing. all you could was cup your hands over your mouth, your eyes looking at the broken glass a few feet away from you and then to your boyfriend. his expression made you sick. he has never looked at you this way. you couldn't tell if he was scared, angry, sad. it didn't matter.

"hoon i-i'm so so sorry, i didn't mean to push you. fu-fuck the glass i'm sorry i'll clean it up" large streams of tears flowed down your cheeks and you managed to get the sentence out in between sobs.

you felt yourself spiraling. you dropped to your knees and crawled towards the broken glass. the sight of the the pieces blurry from your tears and you picked up the pieces with your hands and putting the shards in your palm.

sunghoon was more confused than angry at you, it all happened so fast he barely had time to react. but seeing you pick up the shards of glass with your bare hands snapped him back to reality. he dropped down in front of you on the floor.

"baby stop! what're you doing?! you'll hurt yourself" his voiced laced with concern. he put a hand on your arm and cupped the side of your face with his other hand, wiping the tears away with him thumbs.

you couldn't stop the tears from escaping you. you couldn't believe what you just did. sunghoon was just trying to do a sweet, innocent gesture for you and in the end you hurt him. you didn't deserve him. you knew you couldn't hide it from him forever but you didn't think it would all end like this.

he leaned his forehead to yours, searching to meet your eyes. you just couldn't look at him.

"please y/n, what's going on?" his eyes wide and he pleaded for an answer. catching your breath after what felt like countless sobs, you gently placed the shards back on the floor.

"i need to tell you something hoon."

you followed sunghoon's order to meet in your room as he swept up the broken glass. you sat on your bed as you prepared how you were going to explain all of this.

you didn't want to lose him. he was the best thing that has ever happened to you. all you could imagine was his mortified or disgusted face when he sees your arms. the thought made all your tears resurface. sunghoon sat down next to you on your bed.

"i'm sorry for pushing you hoon. i shouldn't have done that." you took a deep breath before continuing.

"i-i've been hiding something from you since we met. i knew i couldn't h-hide it forever, but i never knew how or when to tell you." you didn't know what else to say to explain. you silently pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie you were wearing.

your arms illuminated by the lamp on your bedside table. silent tears ran down your face as you exposed yourself to him. you have never felt so vulnerable, bare, and scared in your entire life.

"sunghoon i-" before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a silent embrace. one hand pushing your waist to be flush against him, and the other to the nape of your neck.

you eventually muster up the courage to pull away to look up at him. silent tears flowed down sunghoon's cheeks. your eyes widened, sunghoon never cried. your lip quivered at the sight. it was your turn to wipe the tears from his cheek as he did for you earlier.

"um i don't really know what else to say but this explains why i've always covered up my arms around you, why i never was intimate with you...even though i really really wanted to..." you let out a chuckle through your cries trying to lighten the mood.

"...i-i'm sorry i'm such a mess. i know you probably didn't want this going into the relationship. i just- i'm so sorry hoon... i get it if this too much for you."

"you don't have anything to be sorry for y/n..." he grabbed your hand to lace it together with his.

"...this is definitely not an easy thing to share. it just breaks my heart to see someone so kind, smart, and beautiful could do this to herself" he kissed your lips, one of his salty tears landed on your lips.

he used your currently intertwined hands to lift up your arms, placing gentle yet tender kisses to each mark on your arms, your breath hitching at his every touch. this was the first time anyone has been so close, seen you at the most vulnerable. and yet he is treating you like you are made of porcelain.

"this isn't too much y/n. i still think you are the most beautiful person i've ever met���inside and out. this is just a reminder or how strong you are and you overcame whatever you faced in the past. i hope one day you can open up and confide in me because i'm here for you baby. through the good and the bad, especially the bad. because i love you."

your heart melted at his comforting and sincere words, now shedding tears of joy.

"i-i love you too hoon, thank you"

taglist (open!): @laylasbunbunny @blackberryrains

ramblings: this made me so soft and healed my past self 🥺 would you guys like to see more full fics/series or oneshots like this?

thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3

reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!