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#sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t
davinawritings · 3 days
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Werewolf Husband that is obsessed with your ass...
Werewolf husband that is obsessed with your ass. His hands are on it at all times of the day. It’s not even always super sexual. Sometimes it’s just a loving little slap as you pass him in the hallway or a firm grab as you bend over to reach for something. He always makes sure to give your ass a big squeeze as soon as you wake.
Cuddling= Hand on ass
Sleeping = Hand on ass
Bending over to tie your shoe laces = Hand on ass
Walking away after placing his food in front of him = Ass smack
Walk past him in the hallway= Ass smack 
Fucking: Ass smack, bite, grab and occasionally fuck
This werewolf is obsessed with your ass.
You have come to expect having your ass in his hands in some way, shape or form. So, when you woke up this morning and he didn’t grab it, you were completely thrown off. You didn’t say anything because maybe he just forgot, but then you walked by him in the hallway and he just gave you a small smile.
Once again you brushed it off, you know he has been working hard lately with the pack. Maybe he is just tired. 
Then you brought him lunch in his office. You made the food perfectly and put on a cute little skirt that practically screamed look at my butt and squeeze! Placing the food down you stood right next to him and angled your body so you were easy to reach and your ass was on prime display. He just thanked you and went back to work while taking bites of his food.
Now you know something is wrong. You spend the rest of the day trying to figure out what you did wrong. You cannot think of anything but surely you are missing something. Everything was normal when you went to sleep last night. He fucked your brains out then pulled you to his warm chest. You even felt his clawed hand stroking your ass as you drifted off to sleep. What could have possibly changed between then and this morning?
When your husband finally emerges from his office he finds you pouting on the sofa. He calls your name and as soon as you look at him the dam breaks and tears start pouring from your eyes. 
He is kneeling in front of you in seconds grabbing your smaller hands in his own and asking what is wrong.
When you tearfully say, “You haven't touched my butt today”, he just looks at you confused. You go on and try to explain, “You always touch my butt. You love it. Everytime you are within arms reach you grab it or smack it. You didn’t do it at all today. Not once! What did I do wrong? Do you not love me anymore? Do you not love my butt anymore?”
He looks at you in complete shock for a moment before howling in laughter. Your sad tears quickly turn into irritated tears and your small fists hit his chest.
“That’s why you’re crying? You think I don't love you anymore because I haven't grabbed your ass today”, he says between bouts of laughter.
You glare at him for making fun of you and refuse to say anything further, knowing he will just laugh more.
He finally controls himself before scooping you into his arms, his hand going straight to your ass to hold you up. His hands massage your ass as he sticks his long tongue down your throat, earning a needy moan from you. He begins walking towards the bedroom and says “Come on my little mate. Let me show you how much I love your ass by stuffing it full of my cock. Cant have my precious wife feeling unloved”.
You smile as he lands a firm slap on your right ass cheek, everything feeling right once again.
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scorpieuns · 3 days
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KISS ME MORE | PARK SUNGHOON
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summary: freshman year is just around the corner, and you still haven’t had your first kiss, so who better to ask for help than your best friend?
word count: 3.2k
MINORS DNI!!
warnings (18+): smut. fluff (just a smidge). kissing. swearing. oral (f. receiving). fingering (f. recieving).
A/N: this was literally just an excuse to write the ‘teach me’ trope im currently obsessed with lmfao. decided to return with another short fic while a longer one is currently in the works!
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Your saturday was lazily drawing to a close, the amber light of the late afternoon bathing your room in a rich, golden hue as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Sunbeams danced across the floor, casting long, dappled shadows that shifted gently in time with the breeze from your fan, its low hum blending with the quiet outside. The heat of the day still lingered, but your room felt cool—a refuge from the summer heat beyond the window.
You and Sunghoon spent another day in the slow, unhurried rhythm of summer break. You had wandered through quaint little shops in town, indulging in some ice cream from your favourite parlour—before ending the day by hanging back at your place.
Soft, flickering light from the television illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the cozy disarray of blankets and pillows on your bed.
The movie playing was one of your favourites—a classic romance that you knew almost every line to. Your gaze was fixed on the screen, eyes wide and captivated, but Sunghoon seemed content to only half-watch. His attention was mostly absorbed in a book he had got from one a thrift shop you’d visited a while ago, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he read quietly.
Sunghoon lay sprawled beside you, completely at ease, the quiet shuffling of his turning pages blending in with the murmur of the movie’s dialogue as the two of you comfortably sat in silence.
Every now and then, Sunghoon would glance up from his book, watching you for a moment with a fond, almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He silently chuckled at how deeply you were invested in the story, even though he knew you had seen it more times than you could count.
As the movie played on, the flickering shots of the couple lost in passionate kisses filled the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Each romantic scene tugged at a part of you, stirring feelings of uncertainty that you tried to brush away.
The effortless intimacy the characters exchanged seemed so foreign and so far removed from your own experiences. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you shifted slightly on the bed, that weird feeling in your chest only returning.
Fall was approaching, and the thought of starting college without ever having kissed had been gnawing at you. You were always the one admired from a distance—some guys flirted but that was all they did. The real experiences, the ones you saw in movies and tv shows still remained an elusive mystery.
It felt like you were missing some crucial part of your youth, something that was supposed to happen naturally, yet it hadn’t.
In the locker room, when your friends would share their stories about their latest flings or kisses, you’d smile, laugh along, but inside you’d cringe, hoping no one asked about your own love life. It was your secret, the thing that made you feel out of place despite how perfect you seemed to everyone else.
Then, there was Sunghoon.
You glanced at him, your best friend, lying beside you with a cute focused expression etched into his features. He didn’t talk much about his romantic escapades, but you’d heard enough to know he wasn’t inexperienced.
Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of faint hickeys on his neck or the way girls would glance at him. It left you with a strange feeling, one you couldn’t quite name…was it jealousy? Insecurity? Maybe both. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed by how much it bothered you.
As another kiss scene plays out on the screen, your gaze flickers back to the couple. You bit your lip, the pang of longing growing sharper. What did it feel like? To be kissed—or to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, if only for a second?
The thought of entering college without knowing something so simple yet so intimate made you feel…painfully awkward.
You tried to focus on the movie, but the thoughts kept circling back, louder and louder. The movie no longer held your interest, and the weight of your unspoken feelings became too much.
Unable to shake the feeling, you sat up as your mind ran on impulsivity. The movie played on, but you no longer cared about the plot or the characters. All you could think about was the current problem you had and the one person who would listen to you.
You shifted on the bed, turning to him. “Sunghoon." you murmured, your voice softer than usual.
He responded with a low, distracted hum, barely lifting his gaze. One hand rested on his chin, finger grazing his bottom lip in a way that drew attention to the curve of his mouth, while his eyes flicked over the pages with slow, deliberate focus.
"How does…kissing feel?"
That got his attention. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up from the book, the words clearly catching him off guard. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What are you on about now?”
You cringed at how juvenile your question sounded now, already hesitating, “I…” your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, “I haven’t…kissed anyone before. And with college coming up, I just feel…I don’t know…insecure.”
Sunghoon’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Mr. Midfielder. I’m not like you, alright? It’s not like I’ve had tons of people drooling over me.”
A soft laugh escaped him as he sat up, expression softening. “No (Y/N), it’s just hard to believe.” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… like, insanely pretty.”
Sunghoon’s words sent a little flutter in your stomach—but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being nice.
“Of course, you would say that,” you muttered, playfully shoving his shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Sunghoon insisted lightly, catching your wrist, gently lowering your hand. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.
There was something in the way he looked at you making your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You tore your gaze away, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his attention. “This is stupid,” you mumbled with a wry laugh, already regretting bringing it up.
But Sunghoon wasn’t letting it go. He muttered your name softly, his voice coaxing you to meet his eyes again. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up until your gaze locked with his once more.
His touch was soft, barely there, but it made your cheeks warm. “It’s not stupid,” he murmured, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to be new to things. Everyone is at some point.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, staring at the comforter as if the intricate embroidery held the answers to everything swirling in your head.
Sunghoon watched you intently, his heart aching at the sight of your lips forming a soft pout and your expression so full of uncertainty. How was it possible that you had never been kissed?
He couldn't understand it, and yet, the thought of you being with someone else, experiencing that first kiss with someone who didn’t know you like he did—it twisted something in his chest.
Sunghoon would kiss you in a heartbeat if given the chance, but after ages of trying to ignore his feelings—of pushing aside how much he actually wanted you, he wasn’t sure he could handle it without letting everything else spill out.
His hand was still holding yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin, and for a moment, the touch seemed to blur the lines of just simple camaraderie. The warmth of it messed with your thoughts, and before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out.
“Well, you’ve done it before, right? You could, I don’t know… teach me.”
“What?” Sunghoon froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with surprise. His voice dropped an octave,“you’re asking me to… kiss you?”
You nodded, scooting just a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his body against yours. “Come on, Hoon. We’re best friends. It’s not like it would… mean anything.”
Even as you said it, you couldn’t really believe the words yourself. There was an undercurrent, a dull gut feeling, that told you it wouldn’t feel like practice.
To you, maybe. The thought tore through Sunghoon’s mind.
He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs as he tried to think. For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely flustered, “I don’t know, (Y/N).”
His voice was thick as he swallowed, cheeks slowly turning pink. “That’s not exactly something you just… teach.”
“It’s just a kiss. I just wanna know what I’m doing when I eventually have to kiss someone for real.”
Sunghoon’s gaze flickered, his eyes betraying more than he wanted to show. For a split second, his eyes darted to your glossed lips, his breath hitching as he quickly looked away.
He pushed his glasses up again, licking his lips as he huffed. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
“Why?” You asked, the plea in your voice betraying your own feelings. “It’s just one kiss, Hoon.”
Right?
You tried to keep it light, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a small favour between friends. But inside, your heart hammered against your chest, your skin felt flushed, and the air between you both had clearly shifted.
The way Sunghoon was looking at you now, though, like he was really considering it—like he was seeing you in a way he’d never let himself see before—it was almost too much.
“Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the moment.
Your fingers brushed against his knee, lingering for just a second longer, “I mean, it would just be practice.” You stated, but underneath it all, your heart skipped a beat, a buzz coursing through your veins as you looked back at him.
Sunghoon’s resolve crumbled at the feeling of your hand on his knee. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that—those wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to refuse?
He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. “Just… a practice thing,” he muttered, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips, fighting the gravitational pull on them.
“Yeah,” You muttered quietly, reaching up to remove the wire rimmed glasses from his face and placing them on your bedside table before glancing back at him.
Sunghoon’s hand moved up, threading through your hair before gently brushing it away from your face, his touch slow, deliberate.
His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, pausing to brush against your bottom lip in a way that sent a shiver through you. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it ignited something deep inside you, making your breath hitch.
Your stomach fluttered as you met his intense gaze, his dark eyes trained on your lips. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning lightly over your skin, teasing, heightening the anticipation.
Sunghoon’s lips hovered over yours, just barely ghosting against them, brushing so softly that it made you ache for more.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips gently against his. The kiss started soft, tentative, your body hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his breath, the way his lips responded immediately, moulding into yours with an eagerness that surprised you.
Oh.
You pulled away for the briefest moment, eyes flickering down to his lips, your heart pounding through your ears. Without a second thought, you leaned in again, this time a lot bolder, your hand finding the side of his face.
Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He kissed back within a heartbeat, a soft sigh escaping his lips that sent a rush of warmth to the pit of your stomach. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the space between you vanishing as your bodies pressed together.
Your fingers slipped into his hair, the soft strands curling around your fingertips as you tugged on them softly, his soft groans between kisses making your pulse race.
Sunghoon’s lips were firmer this time, more needier with every kiss, sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.
You softly fell back into the bed as he hovered over you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted your lips a little more, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licked into your mouth.
Your hands slowly drifted down Sunghoon’s body, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt to trace the contours of his torso, his breathy moans travelling straight to your core.
“Fuck.” He rasped, pulling away, “maybe we should stop.” Sunghoon’s eyes were glazed over, lips were swollen and tainted with your lip gloss, “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself (Y/N).”
“Then don’t.” You rushed, breathless and wasting no time kissing him again, an unmistakable moan leaving Sunghoon’s chest as he kissed back desperately.
He pulled away—already missing the feeling of his lips on yours before they moved to your jaw, trailing soft sloppy kisses that travelled down to your neck, the feathery feeling creating a dull ache between your thighs.
Your sighs of pleasure almost bordered on moans as he gently sucked your delicate skin—pink and purple marks blooming on your skin, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone.
Sunghoon’s hand drifted over the small of your back, sliding over to find their place on your ass squeezing the soft flesh with a lewd groan—an involuntary moan slipping past your lips at the feeling, tugging his hair.
Everything had your mind spiralling. Sunghoon’s lips were on your neck, his hand roaming every inch of your body.
You’d be lying if you said you didn't want more—craved more.
He trailed wet kisses along your chest, lifting your shirt to press a few more along your stomach, revelling in the way you leaned into his touch, your soft whines and sighs driving him up the wall.
You admired the way Sunghoon looked when he glanced up at you with his eyes, weaving your fingers through his already dishevelled hair, moving to his face and caressing his rosy cheeks.
Sunghoon’s fingers finally met the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips up as quickly pulling the layer of clothing away, “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He hissed, running his hands up and down your thighs.
His other hand brushed over your underwear, groaning at the sight. His finger traced over your wetness on the silky fabric, and you leaned into his touch, with the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.” Sunghoon groans as his thumb taps at your clothed clit, clenching around nothing at the mention of the pet name he’d just given you.
He kissed your thigh, hooking his finger into your underwear and sliding the damp pink fabric down your legs, almost moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt.
Sunghoon lifts your leg and holds it over his shoulder, swiping his tongue over his thumb before meeting your clit and your head falls back, “Hoon, fuck.” You moaned, grabbing at your sheets.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Sunghoon says softly, and you nod—watching him dip below your thighs, lips move to your clit and sucking on it gently.
You never fathomed anything would feel this good. Sure, you’d touched yourself a couple of times, but nothing could beat the feeling being eaten out.
You cry, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue dipping into your folds, letting his thumb swirl around your bundle of nerves while his tongue enters your core, moaning into your entrance.
The vibrations from his moans sent shockwaves up your spine, head tipping back in from the sensation with a broken cry, legs attempting to fly shut but he pushed them apart with a sound of disapproval.
His tongue swiped upwards, and his eyes fluttered closed at the taste of your arousal, reveling in the insanely beautiful moans that tumbled from your lips.
Your hands weaved into his hair, tugging the soft strands as you shamelessly bucked into his mouth with broken whimpers.
Sunghooon held you firmly against the sheets to stop you from squirming, unable to stay still from the feeling of his nose causing friction on your clit as he lapped at your pussy.
Your eyes peer over at him and the pornographic sight of him buried between your thighs makes your cheeks burn. When his hand moves from your thigh you don't think much of it, until you feel his fingers circle your entrance.
Sunghoon pulls away from you, just in time to watch your plump lips fall open when he easily slides his fingers into your dripping core.
“You have know idea how good you look baby.” He panted, plump lips covered in your arousal biting his lip at sight in front him, completely enamored by your fucked out expressions.
Sunghoon’s fingers curl inside of you and they brush over your sweet spot, your mouth opening in a broken moan.
“F-feels so good, Hoon” you mewl breathlessly, grabbing his free arm as you bucked into his fingers, pumping them into you at a perfect speed.
You cheeks flushed furiously at the sounds of his fingers fucking your sopping wet core, broken raspy moans leaving your chest as his lips pressed kisses to your overstimulated clit—your mind a scrambled mess.
All you could think about was the pleasure that was currently surging throughout your entire body, making your toes curl and your head dizzy. A few whines and broken moans was enough to tell Sunghoon you were close, furiously clenching around his fingers as you begged him not to stop.
“That’s it baby, come for me.” He coaxed, his voice raspy and breathy, moaning at the sight of his fingers easily slipping in and out of you.
Your body jerked forward and your hand flew to his arm, blunt nails digging into his skin as you let out a whimper, back arching as his name tumbled past your lips in high pitched moans.
You were almost embarrassed by how fast Sunghoon made you come, mind clouded and hazy as he continued pumping his fingers, your walls clenching around his digits as he fucked out your high.
He pulled away shortly after, fingers slipping out of your entrance and placing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
You watched the messy haired brunette suck his fingers into his mouth, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you—before you leaned over, softly grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss, lightly tasting yourself on his tongue.
"So we both agree that this wasn't just practice, right?" He mutters against your lips and you laugh, still dazed and high from the aftermath of your orgasm.
"Yeah, I don't think I wanna do this with anyone else. You're my only option, Park." His smile grows and he pecks your lips again.
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Worth It? Or Not? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
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Hi guys! It's been too long. Please enjoy this long ramble that slightly resembles writing 😂. I have a few more things written and I am trying to finish Chica for you all. Happy weekend.
It was a new season, and you were so ready for what it was going to throw at you. The last season you participated in had been your best yet you think, although that was most likely due to the fact that it was your first with your girlfriend. You and Alexia had been dancing around your feeling for each other for a few years and in the off-season last year the older woman had finally asked you out. By the time the season just gone had started you were already official, and it had made last year that much more special. You got to share your achievements with the one you loved and that really was wonderful.
Now for a new season and possibly a new step for your relationship with Alexia, she had been hinting at moving in together for the last few weeks. Little off hand comments like “That would look nice in a master bedroom.” And “I wonder if we would have a feature wall if we had our own living space.” You thought it was about time you started hinting back. You needed to be sure it was something she actually wanted before you out right asked her if she was ready to move in together.
You were currently waiting for Aitana to pick you up, Alexia had to be in earlier than everyone else this morning for a meeting and so you had slept separately, at your own apartments last night. This was the first time in weeks that you could remember not sharing a bed with the older woman. She said she didn’t want to wake you as early as she needed to be up and after trying to argue with her for 10 minutes you had given up, she just wasn’t getting that you would happily wake up early if it meant spending the extra time with her.
“So why do I have to come get your whipped ass? Where’s the wifey?” You rolled your eyes at the woman as you climbed into the passenger seat of her car. Aitana had been one of the first people you had talked to about your crush on Alexia and now the slightly younger woman took every opportunity she could to tease you about your obvious love for the team captain.
“I’m telling her you called her that, but in answer to your poorly asked question, she had an early meeting and didn’t want to wake me up at the early time she had to be up.” You shrugged your shoulders in a gesture you knew was for your benefit not hers, you had been up half the night letting your anxiety get the best of you.
“It’s Alexia, you know her, she is probably just nervous for the new season and how the new signings will fit in.” You knew that Aitana was most likely right but you also couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that she was already getting bored of being with you. You knew you shouldn’t let these thoughts get the better of you but that was easier to say than actually do, it wasn’t that you doubted Alexia at all, it was more your growing anxiety over your own worth in your head. In fact you knew it was you and your head and that just made it even more frustrating, it was another thing that made you question yourself.
“Yeah, you are probably right, she has been feeling the captain pressure a lot over the last week or so. She has been watching tapes of the new girls and talking a lot with the staff after weights. Sometimes I wish she would just switch off from work and be a little more present with me, but she’s Alexia queen of Barca. She puts 110% into this club and that’s what I signed up for happily.”
After that the conversation switched to a lighter topic and by the time you pulled up at the training ground you were feeling a lot lighter and laughing with one of your best friends. Any thoughts of Alexia not wanting you any more were long gone and all you wanted to do now was get your cleats on. Football would always be a great escape for you, it was like your mind could relax whilst you had a ball at your feet.
After getting ready in the changing room, without the appearance of your love, you headed out with the rest of the girls to find Alexia in the middle of the field with another woman you didn’t recognise. Your attention was pulled from them when Pere spoke, “Okay ladies, we have a new signing starting with us today. Alexia has been getting to know her a little bit so it’s easier for her to settle in. Please be welcoming.” You all nodded your heads in agreement and followed him over to the two women.
“Hi it’s nice to meet you all, I’m Chloe.” You could tell the woman was nervous and so could Alexia as she moved everyone onto warm-ups rather quickly. Over the course of the session everyone introduced themselves to the new girl individually so that she felt as comfortable as possible.
You had just got out of the shower and was putting the last items in your bag when Alexia approached you for the first time today. “Hola, can I ask you for a favour por favor?” You could tell she was sort of in a hurry by the lack of affection she gave you. You would normally at least get a peck to the cheek, but she barely even got close enough to you for you to hear her properly.
“Si of course.” You would do anything for the woman in front of you and everyone knew it.
“I’m taking Chloe out to see the city so she knows her way around a bit better, but I didn’t get to walk Nala this morning. Can you run round mine and do it for me? I asked Alba but she is working.” There was a lot to pick out of that passage of one-sided conversation. First you were hurt that she had gone to Alba first when Nala was like your own dog too. Second, she must have forgotten your lunch plans with Claudia and Patri that had been made a while back and you knew was on her calendar as you put it there. Something you decided not to bring up, she was just trying to help the new girl settle in you understood that.
“Yes of course. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” You thought at least you could have some time with her that evening being as you’ve barely interacted all day.
“I won’t be back for dinner, I told Chloe I would help her sort her apartment out after showing her the sights. I don’t know what time I’ll be back y/n so maybe we should sleep in our own apartments again tonight.” You really didn’t know what to say to this, so you just nodded. You got a lot of the women’s time, so you didn’t think it was fair for you to be upset over a couple days, especially not when she was just trying to help someone out.
“Okay, I’ll see you at training tomorrow then.” You turned round and walked out of training with a slight weight on your chest and your mind running with thoughts you wish you didn’t have.
After you walked Nala and dropped her back into Alexia’s apartment, an apartment that started to feel like your own until the last 24 hours. Part of you knew this was silly to think but you couldn’t help it, you are always an overthinker and this was something that you struggled with. You didn’t even take the time to make sure Nala was settled you just open the door let her in, checked her water bowl was full and left again. Being there just felt wrong today. Deciding that your mood was really not good enough to go out and have a lunch with your two friends you texted Patri to cancel, and after assuring her you were okay just a little extra tired today, she wished you a good evening and said she would pick you up for training if you needed the next morning.
An offer you ended up taking when your texts to Alexia the next morning went unanswered. You were tired and starting to get a little annoyed with the older woman, you were trying to reason as to why she wasn’t replying to your texts and even when she did it was so spaced out it felt like she didn’t care or want to talk to you. You were trying to change that thought process, but it was hard when that’s where your mind had gone.
“Hola, you don’t look so good. Should you be coming to training.” Patri’s concerned voice almost sent you into a wave of sobs, but you held it together, your thoughts were stupid so you know you couldn’t show you were sad. You didn’t want Patri to think you were an idiot for the way you were feeling about your current situation, if it was even a situation.
“I’m just tired Pats, I’ve not slept well the last few nights and I think its just caught up to me a bit today.” You sighed in relief when she didn’t push you any further just gave you a once over and then pulled away from the outside of your apartment complex.
You were hoping the journey to training would help your mood and thoughts, but it didn’t much. Patri tried her best to cheer you up and you really appreciated the younger woman’s efforts, but you were struggling. You made your way into the changing room behind your best friend and didn’t both to look up as you made your way to your cubby. You placed your stuff down and changed into your boots, leaving the changing room straight after as the first out.
You decided some air and keepy ups might help sort your head out before training. Pere and the staff were out setting up when you went to ask for a ball, they gladly gave you one and you headed to the far end of the field to have your space. The sun beating down on you felt good and a ball at your feet always helped.
Your peace was short lived as you heard the chatter of the rest of the girls and Pere calling you all in. You grabbed your ball and headed over, looking at the group for the first time. What you saw hurt your heart more than you would say to anyone, Alexia was stood near Pere like normal. That obviously wasn’t the upsetting part, the upsetting part was that Chloe was pretty much pressed against Ale. You tried not to look too long or think too much but you struggled. You really struggled.
Training started and your thoughts just kept going. You couldn’t concentrate, you couldn’t pass right, your touches were off and none of the shots you took even went close to the goal. By the end of the first half of training everyone could tell something wasn’t okay with you, so much so that Pere called you over in the drinks break.
“What’s up today? This is very unlike you. If your sick you should have just let us know I don’t want to see you get injured if you are pushing yourself too much and then end up being out for longer than you need to be. Health is important y/n.” The way he said it wasn’t scolding which you were thankful for, you were slightly worried that he would be annoyed with you for your performance.
“I’m sorry coach. I’m not feeling my best today, I thought I’d be okay to train but I think maybe I was wrong.” You wouldn’t normally miss training unless really necessary, but you were too far gone mentally and staying here wasn’t what you needed right now.
“That’s okay some days we just need the break and to rest. Go home and we will see you hopefully tomorrow. Please pop and see the medical staff on the way out to check in with them.” With that he patted your shoulder and went back to call the team back to training.
As you walked past the group Patri caught your eye and gave you the are you okay look. You waved her off with a half-smile and continued to the changing rooms. You decided that a shower at home would be the best for you and so just changed your shoes, grabbed your stuff and headed to the medical room.
They just did some basic checks on your temperature and blood pressure before sending you off with the promise to come in first thing tomorrow if you were planning on training just to have another check before you did.
You half expected Alexia to be waiting for you outside the medical room when you walked out but she wasn’t. You walked out of the grounds to remember that you got a lift, you were just about to walk home when your name was called. For a second your body warmed thinking it was who you really wanted it to be before your shoulders slump slightly. You knew that was Patri.
“I’ll drive you home come on.” You didn’t argue you just hopped in the passenger seat. You were quiet the whole way back to your place, the only words you said to the younger woman was thank you when you got out the car.
You took your shower turning the water to as hot as you could handle. Going for comfort after that you changed into your (Alexias) comfiest hoodie and a pair of tracksuits that you really weren’t sure whose they were. You settled yourself onto your sofa and turned on a random old show you didn’t need to concentrate on.
You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you must have at some point because you were blinking yourself awake in the now pitch blackness of your living space. The only light you had was coming from your phone on the table that you now realised was ringing and must have been the reason you were currently waking up.
You reached over to grab it off the table to see who it was, glancing at the screen you were faced with your favourite photo you had ever taken. Ale had this smile that reached her eyes as she stared at you through the camera, it was taken last month when you were on vacation before the season was due to start.
You were stuck in a sort of daze so you didn’t answer the call, after it rang off you were faced with 5 miss calls from the woman. You noticed the time, you had missed lunch and dinner. You almost missed bedtime if you were being truthful to yourself, so you got up off the sofa and turned the tv off. You grabbed your phone again and headed to your bathroom to clean your teeth and get into your pjs. Once in bed you called Alexia back, who picked up after a couple rings.
“Y/n where did you go? Why did you miss training?” Her words were rushed as soon as she answered, which you felt a little bad about as she had been trying to get hold of you for a while now.
You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before answering Alexia’s question. You could hear the concern in her voice, which only made your heart ache more. It wasn’t anger or frustration—it was genuine worry. And yet, the events of the past couple of days had left you feeling vulnerable and disconnected.
“I wasn’t feeling well,” you started quietly, not wanting your voice to crack. “Pere told me to go home, and I guess I just needed some time to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls before I fell asleep on the sofa.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. You could hear Alexia shifting slightly, probably trying to figure out the right words. She was good at taking a moment to make sure she said the correct thing, that she said everything she wanted and in a way that would be understood for what it was.
“I would’ve come with you if I knew,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or at least text me when you got home?”
“I did try to talk to you,” you replied, a bit sharper than you intended. You quickly softened your tone before continuing. “I was going to tell you before I left the training grounds but when I went to go over, I saw you were in a conversation with Chloe and I didn’t want to interrupt. I know what making her feel welcome into the team means to you so I just left, Patri dropped me home.”
Alexia was silent again, and you hated that your mind immediately went back to the image of Chloe standing so close to her earlier. You knew it was unreasonable to feel threatened, but the distance you’d been feeling from Alexia over the last couple of days was making everything worse. You knew Alexia and you knew that if she was even thinking about someone else in the way she thought about you, she would end things. It was a conversation the both of you had had very early in the relationship, it was better to say and end things than cause more heartache with something like cheating.
“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’ve been caught up with the new signings, especially Chloe. I wanted to help her settle in, but I didn’t realize I was neglecting you in the process.”
You felt a lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. The fact that she acknowledged it made you feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely erase the weight that had been sitting on your chest. It still has happened.
“I get it, Ale. You’re the captain, and you’ve got responsibilities, but…” You trailed off, not sure how to express what you were feeling without coming across as needy or insecure.
“But what?” she asked gently, encouraging you to keep going.
“I just… I don’t know. It feels like we haven’t really been us these past few days. Like we’re slipping apart, and I don’t want that.”
Alexia sighed softly, and you could almost picture her rubbing the back of her neck the way she always did when she was thinking hard about something.
“I don’t want that either,” she said after a moment. “I’m sorry, really. I’ve been so focused on the new season and everything happening with the team that I haven’t been present with you. That’s not fair.”
Tears stung your eyes at her words. You hated that you had been feeling so anxious and unsure about where you stood with her. The logical part of your brain knew that Alexia loved you deeply, but sometimes, your emotions got the better of you.
“I just miss you,” you whispered, finally letting a bit of the hurt spill out.
“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend some real time together. Just the two of us.”
You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the comfort her words should have brought you, but as you lay there, phone pressed to your ear, something still felt off. The doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day didn’t vanish—they just simmered beneath the surface, waiting for another moment to creep back in. You tried to smile, to let her words sink in, but it felt hollow.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice weaker than you intended. There was a pause on the line, and for a second, you wondered if she could hear the uncertainty that was sitting heavy on your chest.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you,” Alexia said, her tone soft but distant, and somehow it made you feel even worse.
“I love you too, Ale,” you replied automatically, though the words felt like they got caught in your throat. You wanted to believe them, wanted to believe her. But as you hung up the phone, the heavy silence in your room returned, and with it, the creeping feeling that maybe things weren’t as solid as you hoped.
You curled up under the covers, pulling them tighter around you, but instead of the calm you craved, a lingering unease settled deep in your chest. The conversation hadn’t been enough to ease your mind, and the distance between you two felt more real than ever. Alexia cared, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the doubts from pulling you under.
As much as you tried to push it aside, the little voice in your head that had been whispering insecurities all day grew louder. What if she’s getting tired of me? What if this distance between us is because she doesn’t want to be with me anymore? The more you thought about it, the more it felt like Alexia was slipping away, even though she’d just promised to spend more time with you. The doubts began to swirl again, faster now, and the pit in your stomach deepened.
Sure, Alexia had apologized, but what if it wasn’t just about her being busy with the new signings? What if she was using that as an excuse? You started picking apart every little detail from the past few days—how she barely interacted with you this morning, how she chose to spend time with Chloe instead of you, how easily she’d forgotten your plans for lunch with Patri and Claudia. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in the relationship anymore. Maybe she was realizing that being with you wasn’t what she wanted.
You buried your face in your pillow, fighting the creeping sense of rejection. No, this is just the anxiety talking. She loves you. She said she loves you, you reminded yourself, but it felt like a hollow reassurance. Even as you repeated it, the lingering doubt wouldn’t leave you. You wanted so badly to believe her words, to take them at face value, but the overthinking was louder than reason right now.
The phone in your hand vibrated again, pulling you out of your spiral for a moment. Alexia had sent you a text: I really don’t like how we left things. Can I come over? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk.
Your heart skipped at the message. On one hand, you wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you, her presence to quiet the storm in your mind. But on the other hand, you felt like having her here would only make your insecurities worse. What if she could see right through you? What if she could tell that you weren’t okay, that you doubted her? What if she was already tired of dealing with your anxieties, your overthinking?
Before you could stop yourself, you typed back: I think it’s better if I stay alone tonight. I might be getting sick, and I don’t want to give you anything. You’ve got enough on your plate with the new season and all.
You stared at the message, second-guessing every word. It wasn’t entirely a lie—you did feel off, emotionally and physically, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want her to come over. You were scared. Scared that spending time with her would only confirm the worst of your fears. That she was growing tired of you, tired of your relationship.
After a few moments, your phone buzzed again with Alexia’s response: Are you sure? I can bring soup or tea, whatever you need. I don’t mind at all.
Her willingness to drop everything and come over only made you feel worse. How could you doubt someone who was so thoughtful, so caring? But the voice in your head persisted—what if she was just doing this out of obligation? What if she felt guilty? It wasn’t long before you convinced yourself that Alexia was only offering out of a sense of duty, not because she actually wanted to be with you tonight.
Yeah, I’m sure. You replied, forcing yourself to hit send before you could change your mind. I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.
You stared at your phone, waiting for her response, hoping she would fight harder to come over, hoping she would insist. But her next message came quickly, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Okay, rest up. Let me know if you need anything, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow at training.
Simple. Kind. But it wasn’t the push you had been hoping for. She wasn’t coming over. Maybe she was relieved, you thought bitterly. Maybe she didn’t actually want to spend time with you after all. You hated that your mind kept going there, but the doubts kept clawing at you, relentless and cruel.
Curling up tighter in your bed, you told yourself that some space was good. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe by then, you’d feel less overwhelmed, and Alexia would feel closer again. But as you lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of your insecurities was heavier than ever. You didn’t want to lose her, but right now, it felt like that’s exactly what was happening, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
you need anything. I love you. Get some good sleep, okay?
You read the message over and over, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Alexia wasn’t pushing you to talk when you didn’t feel ready. Disappointment, because a part of you had hoped she would sense your need for more; more reassurance, more connection, more confirmation that everything between you two was still okay. But she didn’t press further, and that left you with an emptiness that was hard to shake. Part of you knew that was silly, she had texted after your call and that should have helped but it just left you with a half full feeling. Like you were only worth that small extra effort.
As you lay there, your mind kept spiralling. You wanted to believe that this was just a rough patch, a phase, something that would pass after the season got into full swing. But the fear that something had shifted between you and Alexia lingered. You tried to push it away, to focus on the fact that she had said she loved you, that she was willing to drop everything for you. But the overthinking kept creeping back, whispering that maybe this was the beginning of the end.
You closed your eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you, willing yourself to sleep. But even as exhaustion tugged at your body, your mind wouldn’t let go of the nagging doubts. You kept replaying the last few days in your head, every moment where Alexia had seemed distant, every conversation that had felt stilted or rushed. You hated how insecure it made you feel, but you couldn’t help it.
Alexia sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. She wants to call you, wants to check in, but hesitates. There’s a lump in her throat, a weight in her chest that won’t shift. You’d asked her for space, asked her not to hover, and she’s been trying, really trying, to respect that. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard. It feels wrong to stay away, especially when she knows you’re not feeling well.
She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated with herself. She’s been distant lately and she understands that she’s not been around as much as she should have. Training, media obligations, new signings, everything’s been pulling her in different directions, and now, when you need her the most, she’s afraid she’s failing you. Alexia’s not used to feeling this way, like she’s not enough. But here she is, second-guessing everything and wondering why she let it get to this point.
What if you don’t even want her around anymore?
The thought hits her harder than she expects, and she feels a pang of guilt. You deserve someone better, someone who can be there, be present, and she’s been anything but lately. And now, with you sick, the fear creeps in even more. She worries that her attempts to give you space that you asked for might just be making things worse, that you might feel abandoned, even if that’s the last thing she ever wanted.
She presses her palms against her knees, trying to calm the whirlwind in her mind. The idea that she might not be enough, that she might not be the perfect girlfriend you deserve, gnaws at her. She’s scared she’s messing this up, that every move she makes might be the wrong one.
What if she’s not what you need right now? What if she’s been too caught up in her own world, too wrapped up in everything else to see what’s really going on with you?
Her phone buzzes, and for a moment, she thinks about texting you. But what would she even say? She feels torn, pulled between wanting to rush to your side and the fear that doing so would push you away.
She exhales sharply, setting the phone down, her hands now trembling slightly. She loves you, that much is very clear to her. But loving you and being there for you the way you deserve; it feels like two different things right now. She’s scared of being inadequate, of not living up to what you need.
In her heart, she wants to be the perfect girlfriend for you, the one who knows how to navigate all this with ease. Wants to know what you need without you having to say, wants to show you that there isn’t anyone better for you than her. But she’s scared, scared that she’s already failed.
That night, Alexia drives to your place. The streets are quiet, dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp, and the familiar route feels strange tonight, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. Her heart races the closer she gets, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.
When she finally pulls up outside, she kills the engine but doesn’t move. The silence in the car feels thick, almost oppressive, like it's pressing down on her chest. She knows she should get out, knock on your door, and just be there for you. It’s why she came, after all. But something keeps her glued to the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard, mind spinning with uncertainty.
What if you don’t want her here?
She takes a deep breath and glances up at your window. The lights are off, maybe you’re already asleep, maybe you’ve had a long day. Her mind starts to drift even further. Maybe she’s too late. But even if you're still awake, there’s that nagging voice in her head that tells her she’s crossing a line, that you’d rather be alone. That she should have done this a few days ago not now, not when you asked her to stay away.
I shouldn’t have come.
She exhales, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. Every part of her wants to be close to you, to show up the way she should have sooner. She even reaches for the door handle, her heart pounding as she tells herself, Just get out, Ale. Just go inside and talk to her. Be there for her.
But her grip on the handle loosens, and she pulls her hand back.
What if showing up makes things worse? What if you’re still upset, still needing space, and all she does by being here is prove that she can’t respect that?
She closes her eyes for a moment, willing the doubts away, but they only get louder. She’s scared, scared that you’ll see right through her. Scared that, no matter how hard she tries, she’s already failed you.
With a frustrated sigh, she pushes the door open and steps out of the car. The night air hits her, cool and crisp, and she stands there, staring at your front door. Her feet move her a few steps closer, but then she stops, frozen halfway across the street. To any passerby she would look slightly crazy, standing in the middle of the street, car door open behind her and staring at a closed door. But alexia didn’t care, she couldn’t think about anything else other than you.
She could knock, could tell you everything that’s been going through her head, but what if it’s too much? What if it’s too soon?
Alexia takes a deep breath and steps back, retreating to the safety of her car. She sits there, hands resting on the wheel again, feeling like a coward. But the thought of doing the wrong thing, of making things harder for you, keeps her from getting back out the car.
Tomorrow, she thinks. Tomorrow I’ll speak to her.
It’s a promise she makes to herself, hoping that maybe, with a little more time, she’ll find the right words.
The next morning, you woke up feeling no better than the night before. If anything, the pit in your stomach had only grown. You glanced at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from Alexia, but there was nothing. No good morning text, no follow-up to check on you. That left a really bitter feeling inside of you, one that you hated feeling for two reasons. One, you knew in your heart she wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, and two because you felt that way.
As you dragged yourself out of bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You tried to convince yourself that Alexia was just busy, that she was giving you space like you asked. But deep down, the doubt gnawed at you. What if the space you asked for was pushing her further away?
You knew you needed to talk to her, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting your feelings made you anxious. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she said she wasn’t sure about the relationship anymore? You weren’t sure you could handle that.
Still, as you got ready for training, you decided to talk to her today. No more avoiding the conversation. You needed to know what was happening, you needed to clear things up. Not only for your relationship but for your own mind. There was a small voice at the back of your head telling you that speaking to Alexia about why this has happened might be a good idea, but you ignored that for the moment. That would mean showing those deep insecurities. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.
With the decision made, you grabbed your things and headed out the door, hoping that today would bring some clarity and maybe, just maybe, the reassurance you desperately needed.
Stepping out of the building, you're caught off guard. Alexia is there, leaning against her car, arms folded, sunglasses perched on her nose. She straightens up the moment she spots you, waving casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Which a week ago it would have been.
"Hey," she says lightly, her tone casual, maybe a little too casual. Stop reading so much into it y/n.
"Hey," you respond, trying to hide your confusion. "Didn’t expect to see you here."
She shrugs, unlocking the car with a beep. "Thought I’d give you a lift to training. I know Patri picked you up and dropped you home yesterday. I also wanted to check on you properly. How’re you feeling?"
There’s a pause, you are unsure if she’s asking about how you're feeling physically or mentally. "I’m... fine. Maybe a bit tired." Short and sweet, that will do for now.
"Yeah, it’s been a long week," she comments, sliding into the driver’s seat. You follow, buckling in, and the car hums to life as she pulls out onto the road. For a moment, the silence sits between you two, neither of you quite sure how to fill it.
"Traffic’s light today," she notes, glancing briefly at you. "Should get there in no time."
You nod, grateful for the small talk. "Yeah, that’s good."
Another beat of quiet passes.
"Did you see the new kit design?" she asks, her tone light, as if she’s trying to keep the conversation safe.
"Yeah, I did. Looks pretty sharp, though I’m not sure about the neon stripes," you reply, relaxing into the seat a little.
She chuckles softly. "Not a fan?"
You crack a small smile. "Not really my thing. Maybe it’ll grow on me."
The conversation fades again, but this time it feels easier, more comfortable. She’s not pushing, not prying into anything deeper. It feels like both of you are skirting around something bigger, but for now, the surface level is just fine.
Before long, you arrive at the training centre. Alexia leads you inside, where the trainers are waiting. The check-up is routine, some stretches, a few prods here and there and soon, they clear you to train.
"You’re good to go," the head trainer tells you with a nod.
As you step out onto the pitch, Alexia lingers nearby, not hovering, but subtly making sure you’re all right. During the water breaks, she’s quick to hand you a bottle, reminding you to stay hydrated. It's nothing overt, just small gestures that don’t go unnoticed by you.
Training passes, and as you finish up, wiping the sweat from your face and stretching out your tired muscles, you see her approaching again. This time, there’s something different in her expression.
"You did well today," she says with a small, approving smile.
"Thanks," you reply, sensing the shift in the air, the conversation about to take a more serious turn.
She hesitates for a second, then takes a deep breath. "Look... do you want to come back to mine? We need to talk. I think we’re overdue for it."
Her words hang between you both, but the way she says it feels less like a confrontation and more like an invitation. There’s no pressure, no demand, just a simple request.
You meet her gaze, unsure of what this conversation will bring, but knowing it’s inevitable. Whatever is currently going on with you two needs to be addressed and soon. Neither of you enjoying your current situation and definitely not wanting it to continue on this way.
"Yeah," you say, surprising yourself with how quickly the word comes out. "Let’s go."
You hesitate to take the hand Alexia reaches out in front of you, but when she gives you that small smile and slight tilt of her head you can’t help but grab on. You are once again conflicted when she lets go once you are on your feet, but when she awkwardly scratches at her neck as she gestures for you to start walking you can’t help the affection for her that rises in your chest.
The drive to Alexia’s is quiet, not awkward, but there’s a tension that hangs in the air. The radio plays softly in the background, a low hum of noise filling the silence as neither of you speaks much. You glance at her now and then, noticing how her hands grip the wheel just a little too tight, how her jaw seems tense. She’s trying to seem calm, but you know her well enough to see the nerves beneath the surface.
When you arrive at her apartment, Alexia unlocks the door and once again gestures for you to go inside first. You step in, and the familiarity of her space washes over you, a space that’s been shared so many times, but tonight feels different. She lingers by the door for a moment, taking a breath before following you in.
You both sit down on the couch, a little distance between you. Alexia fidgets with her fingers, playing with her rings, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer than usual, almost unsure.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “I wanted to, but... I didn’t know if you’d want me there.”
You sit quietly, listening, waiting for her to continue. You know it is only fair to let her finish without interrupting, your time to speak will come.
“I know I haven’t been... the best lately. I’ve been distant, and I can’t even explain why in a way that makes sense,” she admits, her voice wavering slightly. “And then when you got sick... I wanted to be there for you. I should have been there, but you asked for space, and I didn’t want to make things worse.” You could hear the sadness and longing in her voice as she spoke, it made your heart hurt a little more thinking about how this has negatively affected her as well as you.
She looks down, her fingers twisting together nervously. “But I just kept second-guessing everything. Like, if I showed up, I’d be doing the wrong thing. And maybe... maybe you don’t even want me around anymore.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. She’s never said anything like this before, never doubted herself like this when it came to your relationship. When it came to you.
You feel the weight of her worry, and it’s clear that she’s been wrestling with this more than you realized. Had you not been the best girlfriend either? Had she been worrying about this for more than just the last few days? There’s a long pause before she speaks again.
“I’m scared I’m not the girlfriend you deserve,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing you... like I haven’t been there when you needed me most.”
Her eyes finally meet yours, and they’re filled with doubt, something you’re not used to seeing in her. Alexia, who’s always so composed, so sure of herself, now looks like she’s bracing for something, maybe rejection, maybe confirmation that her fears are true.
You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. You know this talk has been coming, but hearing her say it, seeing her so vulnerable, hits you differently. There's a part of you that wants to just reach out and hold her, to tell her it’s all okay, but you know this conversation needs to happen. You know that the both of you need to communicate these feelings and work on how you can do it without it getting to this stage again, if there is going to be again.
“Alexia...” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I never said I didn’t want you around. I asked for space because I needed it, not because I wanted you out of my life.”
She nods slowly, but her expression remains uncertain. You continue, “I’ve been going through a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It’s just... sometimes I need to figure things out on my own. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
Alexia exhales, her shoulders sagging a little in relief, but the tension is still there. “I just... I feel like I haven’t been enough lately. I’ve been so focused on everything else that I haven’t made time for us, for you, and then when you needed me most, I just... froze.”
You shift closer to her, your hand gently resting on hers. “I know you’re busy. I never expected you to be around all the time, Ale. I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be... present. To be you.”
Her eyes soften at your words, and she looks down at your hand that is soft on top of hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice steadier now. “I’ll do better. I want to be better, for you. For us.”
You nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. It’s not about perfection, not about always getting it right. It’s about showing up, about trying, even when it’s hard, even when doubts creep in.
“I just need us to be open with each other,” you say. “If you’re feeling off or distant, tell me. If you’re unsure about something, we’ll figure it out together. But don’t shut me out, and don’t shut yourself down thinking you’re not enough. And I’ll do better too. I have had so many insecure thoughts over the last few days and I’m sorry for those. I’m sorry that you get affected by them and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you about them. That wasn’t fair of me.”
You take a second to think about what you want to say next.  Alexia’s eyes stay locked on yours, her expression softening even more as she listens. Her hand tightens just slightly around yours, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of what you’re both sharing. The tension between you eases further, but the conversation isn’t over yet.
You take a breath, choosing your next words carefully, wanting to make sure she understands where you're coming from.
“I’ve been in my head a lot,” you admit, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I thought that maybe you weren’t showing up because I wasn’t... worth it. That you were pulling away because I’ve been too much to handle. And instead of talking to you about how I was feeling, I just let it build up. I guess I was scared that saying it out loud would make it real.”
Alexia’s brow furrows as she shakes her head gently. “You’re never too much,” she says quietly, her thumb still brushing softly over your hand. “I never want you to feel that way. I hate that you’ve been carrying that, and I didn’t know. That I couldn’t help.”
You nod, grateful for her words but also aware of how important it is to keep the lines of communication open moving forward. “I know you care, I do. I just... I need to trust that more. And I need to talk to you when I’m struggling, not shut you out. I’m sorry for that.”
Alexia leans in closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ll both do better. We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. I want to be there for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I wasn’t.”
You feel a wave of relief wash over you, and for the first time in days, it feels like the distance that had crept between you is finally closing. There’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of mutual understanding and a willingness to do better, together.
“I don’t need us to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That we can lean on each other, even when things aren’t easy.”
Alexia nods, her eyes shining with emotion. “We are. I promise. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. The silence that falls between you now isn’t heavy or filled with uncertainty. It’s peaceful, comforting.
“I love you too,” you whisper.
For now, the words are enough. There’s more to work through, more conversations to be had, but you know that you’re both committed to making this work. And for the first time in a while, you both feel like you're on solid ground again.
Alexia pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you sink into the embrace. The weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope for what comes next.
After the heaviness of the conversation finally lifts, you and Alexia share a soft smile, the tension replaced by a quiet, comforting peace. The air between you feels lighter, and as if sensing the shift, Alexia’s lips curve into a small grin.
“How about we get some takeout?” she suggests, her voice playful yet warm. “I don’t feel like cooking, and I think we both deserve a break tonight.”
You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect. I could definitely go for some comfort food.”
It doesn’t take long before you’ve both decided on your usual, something easy and satisfying. The soft glow of the kitchen light reflects off Alexia’s face as she places the order, her expression more relaxed than it’s been in days. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief, like things are finally settling back into place.
Not long after, the smell of freshly delivered food fills the room, and you both settle on the sofa, plates balanced on your laps, the comfort of being together in the small, familiar space wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
“Movie?” Alexia asks, already flicking through the streaming options.
“Nothing too heavy,” you say with a smile. “Something we can just zone out to.”
She nods in agreement, finally settling on a classic comedy that always makes you both laugh. As the opening credits roll, you finish your food and tuck yourself into her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.
As the movie plays, the light from the screen flickers softly against the walls, casting a warm glow over the room. You’re snuggled close into Alexia’s side, her arm still draped around your shoulders, fingers lazily tracing small patterns on your arm. The comfort of it all makes you feel more at ease than you’ve felt in days.
At some point, the film becomes background noise. You’re more focused on the way Alexia’s thumb brushes your skin or the occasional glance you catch of her watching you instead of the movie. You shift slightly, turning your face up toward her, and her gaze softens as your eyes meet.
Alexia smiles, a tender warmth in her expression, and you can’t help but lean in. The first kiss is soft, almost shy, like you’re both still figuring out the rhythm after the tension of the last few days. Her lips linger against yours for a moment longer than usual, and when you pull back, you see the quiet joy in her eyes, a silent thank you for being open and honest with her, for being here.
Without a word, you lean in again, your lips meeting hers in a series of soft, gentle kisses. They’re unhurried, sweet, filled with a quiet kind of affection that says more than words could in this moment. Alexia’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb grazing your jawline as she deepens the kiss slightly, but it’s still slow, still soft.
When you finally pull away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath mingling with yours as you both smile, the movie all but forgotten now.
“I missed this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the quiet moment.
“Me too,” you whisper back, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips, your hands finding their way into hers.
She presses another kiss to your lips, this one lingering, and you both relax into the warmth of each other, the world outside fading as the night slips by.
There’s no rush, just the two of you, lost in the soft comfort of being close, the rest of the night spent in quiet kisses and shared smiles, wrapped up in each other as the movie plays on in the background. There is no need for more words tonight. You both know you’re in this together, that the promise made earlier will be something you will both work at together. And for right now, that’s enough.
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thebibliosphere · 2 days
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Do you have any advice on how to get doctors to listen to you? I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow and my parents are only giving me one chance at figuring out what’s why I’m having problems. For reference I’m an afab minor with diagnosed anxiety(I’m worried they’ll dismiss me as overreacting for this) and I can’t stand or sit for extended periods of time without pain and standing give me fatigue + brain fog and I use a cane to walk. No pressure of course, I just don’t have anyone irl to ask
Sorry I didn’t see this sooner, hopefully you see this in time.
If you have time, write down everything you want to bring up so you have a clear list you can refer to in case any jitters make you forget.
Try to rate how these symptoms affect your daily life and what they prevent you from doing. Do not underplay them or minimize what you’re going through.
Note: with some doctors if can sometimes help if you tell them that you want to get better so you can increase productivity and “get back to normal.” It’s ableist and bullshit but it can sometimes really help get them in your corner if you’re worried they might be dismissive or right you off.
I’ve had doctors who were very not keen to run tests change their tune the moment I said, “I just want to get to the bottom of this so I can fix it and go back to work.” (In your case school/extra circular activities)
As soon as they knew I was a good little worker bee, they wanted to help. It’s unfortunate but a lot of doctors feel that way.
If they bring up anxiety or try to dismiss your symptoms because that is in your file, tell them you know what your anxiety feels like but that this feels very different and hasn’t responded to anything you’ve tried to manage your anxiety.
I don’t know your home situation but it doesn’t sound supportive—I’m sorry for that. I know what it’s like to not have your medical needs met as a minor. But please know you can request for your parents not to be in the room with you if that would help.
I wish you all the best and I hope things improve for you soon. Take care 💖
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satorusugurugurl · 2 days
Note
heya! I have a req - imagine Gojo tears up when yn kisses his forehead. he’s never felt so vulnerable 🫠
take care :)
Rest
Summary: After a long day of being Gojo Satoru— the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, your boyfriend gets to come home to your loving embrace.
Characters: Gojo Satoru x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: sweet flufffy goodness, mentions of sleep deprivation, stress, overworking, but overall it’s really sweet!
Word Count: 1.6K
A/N: Nonnie thank you for your request! I had so much fun writing this, Gojo deserves so much better! 💚💚💚
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It was late, two thirty in the morning, to be exact, when the door to the bedroom finally creaked open. You stirred, wincing at the stiffness in your neck as you sat up, the book you read lying against your chest. But your neck didn't matter, not when Satoru was wincing as he slipped his shirt off and placed it in the hamper. His blindfold hand was loosely wrapped around his neck, giving you a perfect view of his dark circles.
“Toru?” You hesitantly asked, drawing his attention towards the bed.
Though you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, he smiled a little on the side but still smiled for you. “Hey, Sweetpea, I didn't wake you, did I?” He walked towards the edge of the bed, kissing your cheek.
“No, I had a stiff neck, so that woke me up.”
Cerulean eyes darted towards the book that was still resting on your chest. “I told you you didn’t have to wait up for me. Just because I had to work late doesn’t mean you have to deprive yourself of sleep.” Even when he was talking, you could hear the exhaustion in his voice.
Being the strongest sorcerer of the modern age was a curse in itself. Satoru was constantly on the move. Whether yanked away for missions or meetings with the higher-ups, he rarely had a break. Time for himself was a rarity. You hated seeing him so drained. Even if you confronted him about it, he would deny it. Putting on some arrogant, cocky attitude that he was the strongest and handling some extra meetings or taking on a few more missions wasn’t going to hurt him.
Your boyfriend could put on that kind of act for himself, his students, or even the higher-ups themselves. You knew he was tired, though. He could deny your accusations all he wanted. You, however, were fortunate enough to know him better than he knew himself. That facade was see-through when it came to you looking at him.
You wanted to tell him it was okay to be tired and set some time aside for himself. Deep down, you knew if you were to bring that up, Gojo would try to ensure you that everything was peachy. So, given the circumstances, you did the one thing you were able to do.
You would support him, be there for him when he needed to vent, and help him out as much as you could or as much as he would allow you to do.
“I was just reading; my book got really good. I just dozed off.”
“Mmm, you should put the book down and get some sleep.” Long ivory fingers caressed your cheek. “I don’t want you having a crooked neck because you were up reading your smut.”
“Leave my books out of this~” Satoru snickered, rolling his eyes as he pulled back, unbuckling his belt. “Go take a shower, then get your ass in bed.”
Satoru gave you a dorky salute as he headed into the bathroom, removing the rest of his clothing as he walked. You knew he was exhausted from the shower he took. Enough to wash the white tufts of hair and wash his body thoroughly. When he finished his shower, his mind was fuzzy with sleep deprivation. Finishing getting ready for bed was a blur, but he found himself climbing the sheets next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his head against your breasts.
Your warmth and the smell of you relaxed every muscle in his body as he rested his body weight against you. Satoru was so tired. He needed to think about going on vacation sometime soon. Getting away from the bustling life he was living sounded like a dream. One where you would join him, and the two of you would stay in bed, talking, watching movies, and enjoying each other‘s company for hours.
Thoughts of that had him snuggling his face further into your soft breasts. You could see the dark circles under his eyes from where you were propped up. Your poor boyfriend was being tugged in every way possible, which would take a toll on anybody. Just because he was the strongest didn’t mean everyone had a right to take advantage of him and use him as a weapon.
Gojo Satoru was human, and he deserved some praise and recognition. Normally, he provided that recognition for himself, occasionally giving himself a literal pat on the back. But it was nice to hear it from someone else, too. He deserved the world—nothing but happiness.
Sensing your body's tension, Satoru turned his head to look up at you. As he did, his soft white bangs moved with each turn of his head. You reached out, brushing some strands away, only stopping to push them back as if he were wearing his blindfold. His eyes glanced to where your hand was pushing up his hair, cerulean eyes almost crossing to get a glimpse.
No words needed to be said. You gave him the faintest smile before pressing your lips against his forehead. As your lips pulled away his skin, you could feel the tension in his body; fearing you may have crossed the line, you quickly pulled back, looking down at your chest with tears staining the thin fabric of your top.
“Toru?” Your voice was soft as if your words themselves would shatter him.
“W-What was that?”
“A forehead. a kiss, a little token of my appreciation for all your hard work.” You weren’t sure what to expect—maybe a thank you or a smile in return. What you met with instead was tears in his eyes. Tears that made the blue of his Iris stand out even more.”Toru! Baby, what’s the matter?”
“I just—that was different.”
Growing up as the strongest and as an only child had been rough. It didn’t matter that he was filthy rich. The staff at the house was constantly on him. His parents rarely came to see him or talk to him. Gojo was alone most of the time, and he found many of his favorite memories from that time when he snuck out of the estate and went exploring Tokyo, being held like this and having kisses planted against his forehead with something he had never experienced with anyone, even his mother.
And he liked it. Scratch that he loved it. Being able to rest in your arms to have you petting his head, and playing with his hair always had him relaxing. This was how he liked to spend his rare moments at home with you. To be in your arms, to have your fingers running through his soft hair, and to have your lips pressing against his forehead made everything he did worth it. He put so much time and effort into helping the next generation of sorcerers, trying to make this world a place he wanted to live in. The hours of the hard work he put in was worth it.
At the end of the day, he got to come home to you.
You were one of the only people who treated him like a human being rather than some tool to be used. So, after a long day of being pulled around, told what to do, and scolded, this was precisely what he needed. Gojo’s mind, body, and soul knew that, and they all worked against him and caused tears to well up in his eyes to make him feel vulnerable. Thiswas a feeling he somewhat liked as long as it was with you.
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. I hope I didn’t insult you or make you uncomfortable.”
“No, I like it. I like it a lot, Sweetheart.” He slowly shut his eyes, his full white eyelashes resting against his cheek as he exhaled through his nose. “Could you do it again?”
Hearing him a king for you to kiss his forehead again had your heart swelling with a certain pride as you hummed happily, pressing your lips against his forehead while your nails gently scratched at his scalp. “Thank you for all of your hard work, Toru.” Your voice was angelic, easing Satoru further into the mattress as his body relaxed more, his mind slowly turning off. “Thank you for everything you do.” He hummed softly in response as he slowly began drifting to sleep, tears welling at the corners of his eyes before slowly streaming down his cheek.
Seeing the tears slowly sliding down his slightly flushed cheek had you abandoning one of your hands on the top of his head, your thumb quickly brushing the stray away. Once you were sure that the tears would stop flowing, your hands slowly drifted back up to the top of his head, continuing to scratch lazily at it as you shut your eyes, yawning, as Satoru hugged you tight, wrapping his arms around you not letting you out of his grasp. It was such a comforting and warm hug that left you feeling safe even when he fell asleep. Your nerves melted like snow on a spring day.
“I love you so much,” Satoru mumbled against your chest. Any other thoughts failed to reach his mouth; he began to breathe much deeper, falling into REM sleep.
But he didn’t have to say anything else. You simply priced one last very long kiss against the center of his forehead. When you finally managed to pull away, you found yourself cradling his head to your chest, allowing him to listen to your heartbeat because he fell asleep.
“I love you too, Toru.”
Yeah, all of his hard work was definitely worth coming home to this.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree
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nicsnort · 3 days
Text
Hello Neighbor
NSFW 18+ male werewolf x female reader Contains: vaginal sex, knotting, mentions of breeding, going into heat, desperate sex
Word count: 3,401 Lore Prompt
You're part of a study using an experimental skin cream. The effects have been interesting, but suddenly take a turn for the horny. Luckily, your werewolf neighbor is willing to help you out.
“Thank you,” the researcher said as she finished rubbing the experimental cream into your skin. “As always, contact us immediately if there are any sudden changes in your mental state or physical concerns. Please return for your next application next week.”
“Of course,” you replied with a smile. It had been four months since you started the trials, and you know the drill now. Honestly, this had been one of the best choices in your life. When you first saw the ad on social media looking for volunteers for a body-enhancing topical cream based on monster science, you thought it was a scam, especially when you saw that they were paying a hundred a week with a bonus of two thousand for those who completed the full six-month trial. But you took the risk, and damn was it paying off. All you had to do was be slathered in a topical cream every week, do a finger prick blood test daily at home, and submit a five-minute check-in about anything strange you noticed about your body or mind at the end of the day.
You weren’t sure what they were exposing you to; they couldn’t tell you as it could interfere with their results or something. Initially, you had experienced some mood swings and increased aggression. Still, it had settled down, and now the only noticeable effects were your sense of smell and hearing becoming more sensitive. It was sometimes annoying, given that you lived in an apartment complex, but it was not a huge hassle. 
Before heading home, you swung by the grocery store to pick up some milk and meat. That was something else; you had been craving meat a lot since this started. While walking around the grocery store, you noticed a minotaur and a naga looking at you with interest. A blush came to your cheeks. Could they smell the cream on you? Usually, you went right home after an appointment, so you had never been out in public - and certainly not around monsters. They have been increasingly common in the area since the segregation laws were overturned, allowing humans and sentient monsters to mix freely. The older folks who remembered the Great Incursion hated it, but you didn’t mind too much. Most monsters are just like humans, merely with different physicality and cultures…and magical powers half the time.
With groceries gathered, you quickly headed home. Walking towards your building, you saw your next-door neighbor—a werewolf. He moved in six months ago for work and spent most of his time in hybrid form. Apparently, he was from the other side of the Rift, so he never had to use his humanoid form. Honestly, you never understood how people said they found monsters that didn’t look human attractive until you met him with his thick mahogany fur, piercing golden eyes, full tail, and broad chest that was barely contained by his human-style clothes…you could have sworn he was flirting with you the first couple of months after he moved in. Yet, his interest fell off a few months ago. He stayed friendly, though.
“Good day, neighbor,” he greeted with a smile. “Need help with those?”
“Thanks, Darrick. That’d be great.” Maybe it was because he wanted to prove he wasn’t a threat, but Darrick was extremely friendly. According to the DMA guides, werewolves were very social monsters due to their pack instinct, so maybe it was just that.
He took the heavy meat-filled shopping bag from your arms while you carried the milk. As he did, you noticed his large, wet nose flare and his pointed ear turn forward with interest. Another blush came to your cheeks. He could smell that cream on you, couldn’t he? Though you had to admit, his scent today was marvelous. A deep, musky scent caused your blush to travel across your body, transforming into an aroused flush.
Entering the building, you were deeply aware of his presence behind you as you climbed the steps to the second floor. Even more so, with each sway of your hips, you were aware of how deeply aroused you had suddenly become. Your swollen lips rubbed against the cloth of your panties with each stair. You had been feeling sensitive the past few days, but why did your arousal spike now?!
You stopped outside your door. As you fumbled for your keys, you heard Darrick sniff rapidly, his hot body leaning over you, caging you against the door. Glancing back, you saw his long tongue flick out from behind his sharp teeth as though tasting the air. Your mind instantly flashed to what that tongue would feel like between your legs.
“I got it from here, thanks,” you told him, desperate to get away before you did something you regretted as the scent of his musk filled your nostrils.
Your voice seemed to jolt something in him. “Right, of course,” he bent down and put the bag down on the ground. But that was a mistake. His muzzle was right at your crotch now. The scent of your arousal certainly reached his wolven nose.
On instinct, Darrick pressed his nose against your crotch. You could feel his damp, heated breath through your jeans. His chest rumbled with a low growl, the vibrations reaching down his snout to your aching mound. A pleasured, wanting moan escaped your throat. You leaned against the door, your hips tilting up, legs spreading slightly, humping his muzzle lightly. His pointed canine teeth, barred together, provided a teasing friction against your clit.
CRACK!
You jumped at the sudden sound. Darrick had driven his claws into the wall, breaking the drywall. He wrenched his snout away from you with a pitiful whine, standing quickly and moving back. “I am so sorry! I wasn’t trying to stake a claim.”
“What,” you asked hazily, trying to shake your head of the lust. “A claim…”
“It has just been months since I have been around a woman in heat, and I lost control,” Darrick continued, not hearing your response at first. Then he paused while backing up a bit more. 
“Darrick, what do you mean by ‘a woman in heat’?” Even as you spoke, your eyes were drawn across him. There was a massive bulge straining his pants. Your inner walls clenched with desire.
“Sorry,” you apologize, tearing your eyes away and fumbling once more for the door. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think it’s the cream. I need to report this to the researchers…”
Finally, you managed to open the door. Stumbling inside, you barely made it to the fridge to put away the milk. Shit, the meat. Heading back to the hall, half bent over in a vain attempt to avoid aggravating your burning crotch. Darrick was standing in the doorway, a look of concern fighting lust on his face. Not that you saw that for long as your half-bent over position put you right at his bulging groin. Your mouth parted in desire at the sight. The scent wafted to your nose. If it weren’t for Darrick catching your shoulder and holding you back, you would have desperately rubbed your face against the bludge.
“Control yourself, Darrick,” he growled to himself, pushing you back inside the apartment while bringing your groceries in and shutting the door. “You’re not a pup anymore.”
“Noooo,” you whined as he forced you to sit on the couch and stepped away to put the meat on the counter. As you watched him, your hand grabbed your breast through your shirt, massaging it. “You have to leave. If you stay, I’ll end up begging you to fuck me.”
As desperately horny as you had become, the admission did not embarrass you one bit. Darrick breathed out slowly, trying to control himself. “Where is your phone? I will call your mate. He shouldn’t be leaving you alone during your heat.”
“Mate,” you questioned. That word alone resonated with you. Yes, you wanted to mate. Fucked raw like an animal.
“Or husband, whatever term humans use. Whoever is the irresponsible wolf that has marked you with his scent so thoroughly and left you alone to deal with your heat.”
“I don’t know any other werewolves, Darrick,” you told him. The term heat was finally jogging your memory. “You’re the only one I’ve ever met. And humans don’t have a heat. I think whatever is happening has to do with the study I’m participating in. Some cream to enhance my body or something. They said arousal could be a side effect, but I didn’t think like this…”
Your hand wandered down to your pants. It slipped inside as you stroked yourself, trying to cool the ache there. Darrick stood stock still, completely focused on you, as your fingers stroked wildly. “You smell so good, Darrick. Please, you gotta leave before I jump you. Or else fuck me. I’ve dreamt about you bending me over my bed so many--”
Like a dam breaking, Darrick rushed over. His tall, fur-covered body bent over the couch, trapping you on it. “One last time,” he growled, barely able to restrain himself. “For clarity. The scent on you is this cream? Another werewolf has not mated you? And you want me to mate with you?”
You answered each question as he asked him. “Yes…No…Please, yes, fuck me, please!”
Without a spoken response, Darrick scooped you up in his arms. He carried you into your bedroom and dumped you on the bed. His chest heaved as took in deep, steadying breaths as though he was trying not to pounce on you immediately. Even as he did, his hands roamed over your shirt as he roughly tugged it off you. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to be gentle.”
“I don’t want gentle right now,” you told him, kicking off your shoes and hurriedly undoing your jeans. “I want you to fuck me with your fat cock until I’m satisfied.”
A primal growl of want escaped his throat. In two short movements, he removed your bra, his claws slicing it off, and tossed it away. Your skin was flushed with desire, nipples already hard with want. Darrick’s large paws covered your breasts, massaging them as he pushed you down against the bed. His long, hot tongue met your neck as he licked you ravenously. Every so often, you felt his pointed teeth scrape across your skin.
You moaned his name. Thrusting your hips upwards, you both tried to finish removing your jeans and gain friction on your needy hole. You managed the first one, but as your hands went to your dripping core, you found a better target. Darrick’s bulge strained against his pants. With deft fingers, you undid his pants and were just about to slip your hand inside his underwear to free him completely when he grabbed your hands. Pulling them above your head, he pinned you down, causing you to whine with displeasure.
“I need to mask that other scent first,” he growled. “Don’t want to smell another wolf. I need to cover you with my scent before I claim you.”
As desperate as you were to be fucked, his words touched a primal part of you, and now nothing sounded better than being marked by him. Inside and outside. Completely and utterly claimed. You wanted any creature who met you to know who you were mated to. That you were his.
Darrick’s muzzle slid down your neck to your chest. With one hand still pining your hands down, the other pressed between your legs. His rough fingers began to stroke, giving you both relief and teasing you as he avoided where you wanted him - his cock - the most. Sharp teeth delicately held your breast as he drew it into his mouth, his tongue lapping across your sensitive nipple. The thick pad of his thumb rubbed against your clit, the claws of his hand pressing into the flesh of your butt. 
A needy whimper escaped your throat. With the little space he left you between the bed and his hand, you lifted your hips invitingly.  “Please.”
“By Seluna, I need you,” he swore, pulling back. His nose twitched, the scent of your lust overriding any further complaints he might have had about the scent of the cream. You tried to follow him, pull him back down but his burning golden eyes pinned you in place.
Eyes hazy with lust, you watched him pull off his shirt. In his rush, his dangerous claws and sheer strength tore it off. Grabbing his already undone pants, he finally stood completely nude. Your eyes honed in on the long, red, throbbing cock between his legs. The tapered head glistened with precum in the sunlight peeking through your shades. Your core clenched with want.
“On your hands and knees,” he commanded, his words barely recognizable through the thick growl of want in his voice. Without hesitation, you turned around. Settling in the center of the bed, you were on your hands and knees, the aching desire between your legs presented to him.
A long moment passed where all you heard was the huff and puff of his breathing behind you. Then, a cold, wet nose pressed itself against your lower lips. You moaned. Darrick’s broad tongue lapped at the swollen flesh. Panting moans left you as the pleasure built. You were so close. Suddenly, his tongue slipped inside of you.
With a cry of pleasure, you came on his tongue. It wiggled inside of you as your body clenched around it. Finally, he withdrew, his muzzle covered in your juices. “Good mate,” he praised. “So, fertile and willing.”
He shook his head, barely returning to his senses enough to add, “You should take some night tea after, 'cause I’m gonna breed you now.”
“Yes,” you panted with joy. The orgasm took the edge off, but you needed more. Being bred sounded like the best thing in the world. Filled with his thick creamy cum.
Your bed dipped with his weight as he climbed on, positioning himself behind you. You felt the heat radiating off his turgid cock even before its heavy weight rested upon your hips. 
“Inside,” you pleaded, rocking your hips. His hands gripped your hips, claws digging in ever so slightly. 
“Spread,” he told you, and even in your current state, you could tell from his tone he was barely restraining himself. Eagerly, you obeyed, spreading your knees further apart. Darrick kept a firm grip on your hips as you did, forcing you to lower yourself onto your forearms. Now, you were fully presenting your dripping hole to him.
You felt the magnetic heat of his cock as he lined it up. As his thick length pressed inside, you whined with pleasure. “Yeesssss.”
The prick of his claws was barely enough to keep you from orgasming with just the tip of his cock inside of you. Inch by inch, he slid inside. You tried to press yourself back on him to take in more, but his strong grasp on your hips stopped you. “You’re gonna make me...” 
“Please, Darrick, breed me!”
With that plea, he snapped. Pulling back until just the tip was left, he slammed his hips forward. You screamed in pleasure. Unleashed, Darrick pounded into you wildly. Spurred on by the hormones of your heat, he rutted into you with only one thing on his mind: breeding his mate.
With each wild thrust, you could feel your body accepting more of him. His cock filled you up each time your inner walls stretched to take in more. You were moaning and panting with ecstasy. You weren’t even sure if you were orgasming, but the pleasure was overwhelming your mind. You could think of little else but his cock inside of you.
Releasing your hips, Darrick bent over your back. His large hands resting on either side of your head, holding your hands in place. The weight of him pinning you beneath him with no hope of escape - not that you wanted to. His hot breath caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and ear. The growl of his voice reverberated across your whole body. “I’m gonna knot you. Ruin you for human men. You want that, don’t you?”
You gave a whine of pleasure-drunk consent, unable to form words.
With a powerful thrust, you felt him hilt within you. His pointed cock pressed against your womb. Then you felt it. As the glands of his cock expanded, he stretched you. Thicker than anything that had been inside of you before. Yet, the pain of the stretching only added to your pleasure. Your nails dug into your sheets. It was too much. You were so close to breaking. You were…you were…
Your body exploded with ecstasy, juices gushing over his cock. Low, long moans, almost like howls, issued from your throat as you threw your head back. Your inner walls clenched powerfully around his knot, locking it within you.
Then it came. What your body was craving. Darrick threw his head back in a true howl as his thick hot cum filled your womb, searing its claim inside of you. His cum spurred your orgasm to even greater heights. Your eyes rolled back in your head, tongue lolling out, inner walls still clenching around him, drawing in every last ounce of cream. There was so much cum, you thought it would never end. You never wanted it to end. Yet, eventually, your bodies were spent.
Darrick’s knot still firmly resting inside of you, he rolled you both on your sides. His arms were around you, cradling you as you came down from the ecstatic high. His long, wet tongue tiredly but comfortingly lapped at your shoulder and neck.
While you still felt aroused, being filled with his cum and having a knot in you satisfied your primal urge to breed for now. After a few minutes, your mind started to return. What the fuck did you just do? What the fuck happened to you?
“Are you alright,” Darrick asked before you could voice your own concerns.
“Yes…I’m just confused…that’s never happened before. What is that cream doing to me?”
Darrick’s grip tightened around in comfort. “I think I know…there is this story the Elders tell. The first werewolves were created before the Division when our worlds were one. They were humans; warriors granted power by the spirits of nature to temporarily wield the spirit of the wolf to defend their homes. After the Division, the wolf's spirit was permanently bound to us. But we needed mates; most werewolves then were men, and the few that were women could not keep our populations going. So, the moon goddess Seluna took pity on us and let us transform others through sharing our essence…at first, all it required was for us to bite a human, but the sudden merging of wolf and human spirits drove many insane. Therefore, Seluna’s wife, Noctune, goddess of the night, took inspiration from her wife’s slow transformations each night. Sharing our essence would slowly introduce people - our mates or others we deemed worthy - to the wolf spirit so their humanity could adjust before it was made permanent. This also gave humans a chance to change their minds.”
“That’s a lovely story. So, you’re saying this cream is introducing me to werewolf essence? Wait, what is werewolf essence?”
Darrick chuckled a bit nervously. “Blood, saliva, and…” He gently thrust his hips, indicating his cum.
“Wait, so they’ve been covering me in werewolf - I hope - saliva? And that’s been changing my body?” You reeled at this new information. “Wait, so this is actually a heat?”
“Yeah. Usually, the exposure would be done by your mate, and you’d know what was going to happen, and they would help you through it.”
You were silent for a moment. “So, does this make us mates?”
Darrick chuckled nervously again. “We have mated, sure, and you’re going to need help getting through your heat. So, we can do it again. But, I mean, after, we don’t need to be…I mean, I think you’re pretty great. I was really disappointed when I thought you’d been claimed and--”
“I wouldn’t mind trying to date after you finish helping me through this,” you told him, cutting off his adorable ramble. “If you want.”
There were several loud thumps behind him as his tail wagged happily, hitting the bed. “I would like that.”
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papaya-twinks · 19 hours
Text
my little bookworm - l.n
Warnings: cuteness
Pairing: Lando Norris x uni!fem!reader
A/N - based off of @cheriiepies, you inspired this and this is for you x
Lando loved you. He really did. You were his perfect little angel of a girlfriend, sweet and nice and just everything he could ever want all bundled up into one adorable little person that he loved more than he loved anything. But sometimes he did find it a little saddening to watch the girl he was so in love with to have her nose buried into a book.
Not that he didn’t understand why. He knew what he was getting into, when he asked out the smartest (and prettiest) girl he’d ever met, he knew you’d have to continue with your studying. Benefits and not so good parts of dating a bookworm, anyways.
“Y/N,” Lando said, his voice very nearly close to being a whine as you finally tore your eyes from the book you were studying. “I’m finishing my studying, Lando,” you said to him with a little huff, annoyed he’d interrupted you.
“You’ve been studying for ages, though,” he said, “and you said you were ‘nearly done’ a whole hour ago,”. God, it was ten minuets ago. And here Lando was, performing his Grade A drama shit. Good on him, anyways? Back up career if F1 didn’t work out.
“You’re so needy,” you said, flicking him as you went back to jotting down your maths equations. “What the hell does that even say?” Lando asked, eyeing the questions with wide eyes. “It’s basically means-,” you started, only for Lando to cut you off.
Jeez, would he even let you get a word in? Christ. “No, no, you’ve lost me, I’m gone,” he said, and you could swear you saw his pupils dilate just the tiniest bit just staring down the equations on your textbook.
“I’d rather be dumber than dumb than know that,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “If I finish this page,” you said, “will you stop having a go at me?”. Lando hummed for a second, almost as if he was contemplating it (though him and you both knew he’d definitely say yes anyways).
“Fine,” he said, moving to sit on the bed, kicking his sneakers off as he stared at you, eyes travelling down your body. “Stop staring,” you said with a huff as Lando shrugged. “I’m not staring,” he said, even having the audacity to continue staring as he said that. What a jerk. In an affectionate way.
“Finally,” he sighed, watching as you put the book down. Lando didn’t even hesitate, wrapping his arms round your torso and bringing you into his side, a giggle on your lips as he did so. “Took you ages, Y/N,” he huffed.
“Sass me again and I’m going back to reading,” you said, flicking him as if to say ‘cut the attitude!’. “Sorry,” he sighed, shaking his head, curls fluffing against your cheek as he did so. “You’re so gorgeous,” he mumbled, his eyes on your face, tracing the contour of your face, the way your eyes sparkled…wow.
“You’re handsome too, mister,” you said, a little smile on your face as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. “Love you,” Lando said, as you smiled to him, lips pressed to the edge of his own. “Love you too,” you said, the last word lost between Lando’s lips as he pressed to you.
“So gorgeous,” he mumbled, lips moving across yours, his tongue peeking out to dampen your lips as well as his own, pressing between your lips, diving into your mouth. The feeling was almost unrealistic, having Lando turn you slightly so he was above you.
“Love you,” he repeated, almost like a chant as his tongue explored your mouth, delving into every crook of your own perfect little mouth. “So pretty,” he gasped, his eyes squeezed closed as you wrapped your arms round his neck, his body to yours.
It was like a harmony, both of you pulling back simultaneously to reach for air, before reaching back to the other, desperate for contact. It was almost like a reward when you finished your work, ready for your countless exams in university.
That was the price to pay for being gifted with such impressive brains. And you knew, at the end of the day, Lando always had your back, whether you failed them or not, he'd be there for you, to hold you and hug you through the night, kiss your pretty lips, wipe your tears away.
But you'd never fail anyways.
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froggiewrites · 3 days
Note
hi I had another idea for a request! dealer’s choice on the character(s) (but if you’re stuck for an idea maybe law?), but maybe the reader gets hurt in a fight and their (slightly in denial about being in love) future love interest nurses them back to health? can be fluff or smut or whatever you want I’m not picky I just love seeing your words
thank you I still love your work please keep it up
This request is from @toadmakes, on anon since it's her sideblog! I thought this idea was so sweet, so I just made a really fluffy, self indulgent little piece. Also, I let Law be cool last time I wrote about him so of course I had to make him a flustered little nerd in this one. I hope you enjoy it!!
A Helping Hand
Pairing: Law x Reader
SFW
Summary: You get hurt protecting Law, and he's not pleased. Warnings: Fluff, Lots of Banter, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 1.3k
You don’t remember throwing yourself in front of Law, or being carried back to the Tang. You don’t remember the screams of your friends, or the shaking hands that so carefully bandaged you back up. But that’s alright, because they were all too eager to tell you how stupid you had been once you came to.
“–disgustingly irresponsible! Not to mention unnecessary! What good reason could there possibly have been to do that?” Law is the most furious you’ve ever heard him, and you fear it may be because he’s the most scared you’ve ever heard him. You don’t know how close of a call it was, but you know you hurt all over, and his eyes are shining with something someone who didn’t know better might confuse with tears.
“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You try not to say it like an excuse or a plea. It’s simply fact.
His eyes shoot away from yours. You swear you see a hint of red on his cheeks, but just as quickly as you notice it, it’s gone. He clicks his tongue with displeasure before continuing. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I could have very easily moved out of the way. You–” he sighs. “Don’t do anything like that again.”
“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing it anytime soon.” You try to give him a wry grin, but it turns more into a grimace as you shift, pain shooting through you. You’re covered head to toe in bandages, every part of you sore and bruised. You’re surprised you’re upright and conscious right now, honestly. “Can I get some painkillers?”
“You’re on enough to take down a horse.”
“But it still hurts.” You pout, and he grits his teeth and looks away from you again.
“Yeah. Almost dying tends to do that.” Even with the gruffness in his voice and face, his hands are gentle as they begin to fuss with your bandages, checking over every inch of you to ensure you’ve been properly taken care of. You could swear he hesitates slightly at checking the bandages around your thighs and chest, but he perserveres, ever the professional. You wince a few times when his hands brush a particularly tender spot, yelping when he makes slight contact with your ribs. He fiddles with the IV in your arm, and you feel a flood of relaxation and relief hit you. Looks like he found a reason to give you more painkillers after all. “You’re going to be out of commission for a long while, y’know.”
“How long?”
“At least six weeks, but probably longer.”
“What?”
“That’s nothing compared to what it could be. You have a couple broken ribs, not to mention all of the cuts and bruises. You’re lucky your organs weren’t crushed.”
“Can’t you like…shambles it away?”
“No.” His voice is flat. You look at him with wide, pleading eyes, and he scoffs at you. “Well, more like I won’t.”
“Why not?”
“If I just fix it you’ll run off and do it again, and next time you might not be so lucky.”
“Oh…so you’re just worried about me?” You giggle, filled with warmth at the idea. And maybe the pain meds. “You could just say so.”
“That’s not–” he lets out a soft choked sound when he realizes there’s no way to deny it without insisting he doesn’t care about you. As grumpy as he can be sometimes, he would never say something so unkind. Not to you. “Shut up.”
“Hey Captain?” You feel your tongue loosening with things you would never say, but you’re too out of it to stop yourself.
“Yes?”
“Do you like me?”
There’s definitely a flush to his cheeks now. “What?”
“I think you like me. A lot.”
“I–No!”
“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracks a little, tears coming far too quickly. Whatever he gave you is powerful stuff.
“That’s not–I–agh!” He roughly runs his fingers through his hair, desperately avoiding eye contact with you. “I like you. As a crewmate.”
You puff your cheeks out a bit with displeasure. “That’s all?”
“That’s all.” 
“I’ll believe you if you look at me.”
“I am looking at you.”
“You’re looking at the headboard over my shoulder, Captain.”
His eyes flick to yours, and he turns an even more brilliant shade of scarlet. “I li–” His shoulders tense and he suddenly shoots up and turns away from you. “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this. You’re high off your ass. I bet you won’t even remember this when you wake up tomorrow.” You can see the tips of his ears burning as he gathers his things and prepares to leave.
“You’re gonna abandon me?”
“I have work to do!”
“I’m a patient, I am work!”
His voice is rising with frustration. “You’re already set up, what else is there to do?”
“I don’t know, Captain, I’m not the doctor here!” You try to raise your arm to reach out to him, only to let out a soft whine when you can barely move it.
“Please stop trying to use your broken bones.” He comes closer to gently hold your arm down, concern clear.
“It doesn’t feel broken.”
“It will soon.”
“You’re gonna let me hurt? On purpose? You’re so mean to me, Captain.”
He sighs. His thumb starts rubbing small circles onto your hand, though he doesn’t seem conscious of the action. “If I fix you up, do you promise not to do anything like that again?”
“No.”
The affectionate movements stop. “What?”
“I can’t promise that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m strong, I can take a little pain.”
“But I don’t want you to.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t want you to hurt at all, I don’t care if you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to.”
“So you should?”
“Yes.”
“That’s stupid.”
You huff. “You’re stupid.”
He can’t help but break into a rare laugh, a chuckle that rumbles through him and makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s lost himself until he looks up to see you staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, mouth slightly agape. “What?”
“I really like you, Captain.”
He grows horribly flustered, but for once he doesn’t pull away from you. He keeps looking you in the eye, even as every part of him screams to run and avoid his embarrassment. “You do?” His tone is heart-wrenchingly hopeful.
“I do. So, so much. You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world.” You can feel your smile grow dopey and lovesick. “I’d take a million hits for you. A billion, even.”
“What if it’d make me happier if you didn’t take any hits at all?”
“Then I would say you shouldn’t have let me join your crew. Getting hit is part of the job. But that’s okay. You’re worth it.” You lean forward, begging him for a single touch, since you currently can’t lift your arms. You can feel your eyes drooping, but you fight to keep them open long enough to receive what you want.
He sighs, but you can see the affectionate smile creeping onto his face. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, resting a hand against your cheek so tenderly you could weep. “Get some rest. I’ll fix you up in the morning.”
You hum as he uses his palm to gently push you back down, his other hand on your shoulders to recline you slightly. You’re fading fast, finally losing your fight with sleep, but before you go, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips against your forehead.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece
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fastandcarlos · 2 days
Text
Thousands Of Miles Apart : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo
summary: you and daniel aren't getting any younger, and yet you seem to find yourselves further and further apart on either sides of the world
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There was no response from you as you heard the key finally go into the door to your apartment, hearing the sound of Daniel singing to himself. You remained where you were sat, staring down at the floor as his footsteps echoed throughout the place, a clear spring in his step, the complete opposite to how you were feeling beside him. 
However, as Daniel walked in and noticed you sat on the sofa, a few candles lit around you, his heart dropped. The singing came to a stop, his footsteps became heavier as he slowly walked closely towards where you were. 
There was no acknowledgement from you that he was there as Daniel sat in the seat opposite you, you couldn’t bring yourself to look across at him as you tried to stop the anger in the pit of your stomach from exploding. 
“Babe,” Daniel whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get home so late, we were just testing and time just ran away from me.” 
“Shut up, please, just shut up,” you asked of him, the harshness in your voice taking Daniel by surprise. “I don’t even want to hear your excuses anymore; I’m fed up of you treating me like I’m stupid with all of these reasons.” 
It took a moment for Daniel to comprehend what you were saying, the anger in your voice leaving him dejected. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you by not coming home earlier, I should’ve let you know that I was going to be a while.” 
“I don’t care about work Daniel; I care about the fact it’s another night away from each other.” 
“I know, but we’re both so busy it’s hard to find time together.” 
Your eyes rolled at how careless his voice was, shrugging his shoulders. With time so tricky to find, you were trying to find those pockets of time, however Daniel didn’t seem to be. 
“We spend the majority of our days thousands of miles apart, but when we’re both at home we’re still apart too. What’s the point of doing this to ourselves when we’re just constantly away from each other?” 
Daniel’s body tensed up as you finally looked across at him, your expression was emotionless, sending a shiver down his spine. “It’s not going to last forever, we’re trying our best, aren’t we? But sometimes things get in the way.” 
“You’re really telling me this is you trying your best for me?” 
Daniel’s head nodded, only to feel your eyes narrow in on him, questioning how honest he was being with you. “I’ve always put our relationship first; do you know how hard it is for me too when we’re so far away? It’s not like I want to live like this.” 
At times it felt like you barely recognised the man in front of you anymore. The Daniel you knew at the start of your relationship would race halfway around the world if it meant getting to spend time with you, but now it felt he couldn’t even be bothered to walk half a yard for you, instead deciding to prioritise work instead. 
Your eyes dropped as you struggled to hold back your emotion. “I can’t keep doing this Daniel, I don’t even feel like I’m in a relationship sometimes these days.” 
“I’m sorry,” Daniel whispered, “I hate that you feel that way. You know how much I love you sweetheart; I couldn’t imagine doing life without you by my side.” 
“I love you as well,” you assured him, “but the fact we love each other can’t be the reason why we stay together. We have two very different, hectic lives, and although we always promised that wouldn’t get in the way, I can’t help but feel like now it is.” 
You quickly wiped a tear away, hoping that Daniel wouldn’t see. However, as he stood up and moved himself to where you sat, placing his arms gently around your back, you knew that he had seen just how much you were struggling. 
“Why does this feel like you’re breaking up with me?” Daniel stuttered. “I don’t ever want to make you feel like I’m not trying, or that I don’t care. I wish more than anything that you didn’t have to wait for me constantly, that I could be here whenever I want and spend my evenings cuddled up to you and not letting you go.” 
“I don’t think I am,” you whispered, leaning a little closer into Daniel. “But I just don’t think I can carry on like this, it’s not healthy for either of us Daniel, this shouldn’t be the normal.” 
Daniel pulled you even closer towards him, pressing a kiss against the top of your head, refusing to let you go. “I don’t care what I have to do, but I promise that I’m going to make some changes and make sure that I’m here for you, for us, more.” 
Your head slowly nodded, you could hear the fear in Daniel’s voice, desperate to make sure that you knew just how serious he was about fixing you up and not losing what you had. 
“I’ll do whatever to prove to you how much I want to make this work, even when we’re thousands of miles apart,” Daniel whispered. “I hate the fact that I ever made you doubt how I feel about you or made you feel like I didn’t care either.” 
“Are you really serious about making this work again?” 
Daniel’s head nodded without even having to think, he had never been so sure of anything in his life. “I can’t lose you, even if I made it seem like it’s not the case recently, I cannot stress enough that you really are everything to me.” 
“It’s a relief to hear you say that, Daniel.” 
He pressed a kiss against the side of his head, bringing his lips to your ear. “I love you, more than you could ever imagine, you’re the best.” 
Your smile slowly turned up, resting your hands on Daniel’s arm that was around you. “I love you, that will never change.” 
“You know, I miss us too, I always wish that we could go back sometimes and pause time.” 
Despite seeming as if he didn’t care, Daniel did, more than anything. He hated whenever work told him to stay, or when his management called and told him they had plans for a deal which meant he had to be away from home for even longer. 
“How about tomorrow we plan some time and organise some dates, we can do whatever you want and I promise that I’ll definitely show up for them too.” 
Your head nodded at Daniel’s suggestion, relaxing into his hold as he leaned his head down to rest on top of yours. 
“You can make me do whatever, it’s the least I can do for what I’ve put you through,” Daniel added, bringing a chuckle out of you. 
“You might regret saying that you know with some of my ideas.” 
Truthfully, he didn’t care, as long as it meant time with you then he was happy doing absolutely anything. “All I want is to be able to start creating memories with you again, no matter how stupid they end up being.” 
“Making you look stupid is my speciality,” you teased in reply to him. 
“Hm, I’m pretty good at doing it all by myself.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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thelostconsultant · 3 days
Text
Delicate. part 1
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
note: Lando invites everyone to his New Year's Eve party, but Charles convinces you to join him on a hunt for food.
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You knew this New Year’s Eve party was important to Lando, you knew he wanted everyone to be there, so you put on a shiny, dark pink sequin mini dress, applied some light makeup, then headed out to the club that he somehow managed to reserve for himself. How long he’d been planning this, you had no idea, but he surely went a little overboard this time. I just want to be alone with my friends, that’s not a crime, he defended himself when you pointed this out to him a few weeks ago. 
At the party, you felt a little out of place. This was the first time in years you weren’t entering the new year on the side of your boyfriend, the one you had broken up with half a year ago. It was a mutual decision, the spark wasn’t there anymore, so you didn’t miss him, you just missed the idea of clinging to someone the whole night. It was pathetic, you hated yourself for feeling this way, but there was nothing you could do about it. 
Your best friend knew Lando, but she didn’t get an invitation because everybody knew she spent every New Year’s Eve on a yacht in the Maldives. She tried to convince you to go with her this year, but you didn’t feel like leaving Monaco for a place so far away, especially not when she would be all over her boyfriend the whole time. They were cute together, you loved them, but third wheeling wasn’t so inviting. 
You chatted with a few people, even let someone convince you to dance a little, but then you found a couch in the back of the club that you chose as your permanent spot for the rest of the night when you sat down with a cocktail in your hand. It was nice to sit back and watch the people around you celebrate, having the time of their lives from the looks of it. Despite the weird feeling you had since you arrived, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. At least they were happy. They were celebrating. 
You? You didn’t know what to look out for in the new year. Maybe you should get a job again. After you finished your studies, you worked for a consulting company for a year, but then you had enough of the excel files and the presentations, and decided to be nothing more than a carefree heiress in the future. Your grandmother, who came from a wealthy family with a long history, had always favored you over her children, including your mother. So, when she died, she left everything to you in her will. 
The peaceful people-watching activity was disrupted when you noticed someone plopping down next to you out of the corner of your eye. It annoyed you, really, but once you turned to look at who it was, your annoyance disappeared as if it hadn’t even been there. You didn’t really know Charles. Sure, he was on good terms with Lando, sometimes you attended the same parties, but the most you exchanged were probably a total of ten sentences in the span of years. But he had that calming aura around him, one that made you feel better, as if you were suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket. 
At first, you didn’t talk, there was no need for that. He just probably needed a place to sit down until he got a little rest before rejoining the party. Sipping your drink, you continued to watch the people, completely ignoring your neighbor. But then you began to have a strange feeling, as if someone was watching you, eyes burning a hole in you without knowing, and it didn’t take long to figure out it was him who was shamelessly ogling you. 
When you turned to him with a questioning look, he quickly shifted his gaze somewhere else, acting like he hadn’t just been caught in the act of staring at you. Shaking your head a little, you decided to ignore him for now. He was probably drunk and had no idea what was appropriate anymore. Although, he didn’t seem that out of it, in fact, he just looked tired with those dark circles under his eyes. 
And then you felt his thigh press against yours, shoulders touching after he moved closer to you. “I bet you don’t wanna be here either,” he said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. Finally turning to acknowledge him, you give him a surprised look. “Lando was quite literally begging me to come tonight. I’m only here because I promised, even though I’d rather be somewhere else. Anywhere else,” he added. 
“If I could choose, I’d be sitting on my couch with a blanket around me, eating popcorn while holding a movie marathon,” you admitted with a smile. “But it’s impossible to say no to him.”
“Sad, but true.” His green eyes turned to the crowd in front of you, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers played with his bracelets. “I would give up my car for some popcorn. Or a pizza. Or some pasta. Anything, really, because I’m starving,” he told you as he looked back.
The last time you were around the other side of the club, there was a huge table with a lot of food, how could he not see that? But when you shared this little piece of information with him, he just laughed, and his bright smile reached his eyes too. You wondered what was so funny about this, but you soon got your answer.
“Yeah, that was true until about an hour ago. I was just about to finally eat something, but some guy grabbed the very last of the sliders I had my eyes on. The table is empty. There’s no food. We’re going to die.” He dramatically threw his hands in the air as he leaned back, glancing down at his watch. “It’s only eleven, I don’t know how long I’ll last. Do you think I will live until midnight?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his question. But you weren’t laughing at him, you were laughing with him. Now that he mentioned food, though, you realized that you were quite hungry too. “Did you really have to bring up food?” you asked him with a disapproving look. 
Charles’s lips curled into a grin. “Now you’re hungry too, aren’t you?” When you nodded, he bumped his shoulder against yours. “It’s your fault for talking about popcorn,” he pointed out. “Although… Do you think Lando would notice if we left? He seems so busy partying that I highly doubt he would notice we’re not here.”
As your eyes scanned the crowd to find the host, you let out a thoughtful hum. The last time you saw him, which conveniently happened in the restroom, he was already on his way to get real drunk, and he was having so much fun you highly doubted he would care about some of his guests escaping. So, without thinking more about this, you turned to the Monegasque next to you and told him the answer is probably no. 
“Great,” he said as he jumped up and extended his hand for you to grab it. When you just watched him with a questioning look, he leaned down to take your hand and pull you up. “Come on, I know a place where we can hopefully get food.” And with that, he took your hand and pulled you towards the exit, not really giving you the chance to object. 
The two of you walked down the street, hands stuffed into the pockets of your jackets to fight the chilly night air, and you talked about music, movies, even about how Christmas went. You barely noticed that he came to a halt in front of a little bistro in a narrow street, holding up a pointer finger to ask for a second while he opened the door and peeked inside. 
He spoke with someone in French, exchanging words you couldn’t quite make out, then he reached out for your hand with a smile on his face and pulled you inside. There was a small group of people sitting around a table, happily discussing something until they noticed you standing there. At first, there was silence. But then they erupted in cheers while someone stood up and pulled Charles into a hug.
A man in his late thirties ushered you to an empty chair by the table that he pulled out for you, then he poured both you and the Monegasque driver a glass of wine. You watched as your new companion got comfortable across from you, already deep in a conversation with an older man who explained something with wide motions of his hand. 
Whoever these people were, they clearly welcomed him like he was family. The older man he was talking to called him son at one point, and Charles didn't flinch, he just smiled lovingly as he listened to the story. He was way more at ease here than he had been back in the club. The dark circles under his eyes were still there, but those green eyes came to life in this new environment.
Someone placed freshly made sandwiches in front of you, and you didn't miss the small smile on his face when he glanced at you for a moment. A little explanation would have been nice, just so you would know whose company you were enjoying, but since he didn't bother to explain, you focused your attention on your food. And when you took a bite? God, it was heavenly. 
“Good, right?” When you glanced up, you noticed that a kind-looking, forty-something woman was now sitting on the chair next to you, her long brown hair flowing down her shoulders as her blue eyes watched you with a mischievous glint. “My father,” she began, motioning towards the man Charles was talking to, “opened this place because he wanted people to have actual conversations with each other while enjoying their food. Charles can have extremely long discussions with him about literally anything.”
Once you swallowed, you extended a hand to her to introduce yourself. After you got past that, you turned your finger around to show what you were about to say was related to everyone in this room. “So, is it a family event that he just crashed?” you wondered out loud. 
Marie let out a laugh as she shook her head. “Hardly. They're all friends through my father, though. We always gather here on New Year's Eve, but this is the first time Charles came. Although, based on the way he made his sandwich disappear so fast, I guess it was the food that brought him here,” she said with a wide smile. 
Guilt rushed through your body upon hearing this, because that's exactly what happened. But he seemed happy, maybe deep down he wanted to be here with his friends. They were so different from the ones you also hung out with, the F1 drivers and other celebrities. These were normal people, having normal conversations, acting genuinely and kindly. 
You got lost in a conversation, but soon it was interrupted when she glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:55 p.m. It was almost time. She excused herself and left to fill flutes with champagne, and before you knew it, you were all standing in a circle, counting down to midnight. Charles was standing next to you, smiling so much that his nose crinkled in the cutest way.
Five. Four. Three. Two. One. 
And just when you wanted to join the group as they said happy new year, you felt a hand on the back of your neck, then a few milliseconds later, before your brain could comprehend what was happening, Charles's lips crashed into yours. It was slow and soft, he definitely took his time with you as if you weren’t surrounded by people. And just as abruptly as it began, it came to an end eventually. 
“It's in the law to kiss someone at midnight,” he said with a smile as he licked his lips.
For a while you were staring at him dumbfounded, but you managed to shake off this feeling and nodded after a short break. That’s true, it was a well-known tradition. Flashing a smile at him, you turned away to clink your glasses with the others, placing friendly kisses on their cheeks in the process, but Marie decided to pull you into a hug, treating you as if you had known each other for a long time. 
It felt nice. Unlike at the party, here you actually felt like you belonged. Sure, you and Lando were really good friends, and yes, you knew many of his friends, but none of them was a close friend of yours. Yet, despite not really knowing Charles, the fact he was so relaxed and happy among his friends made you happy too. It was a contagious feeling, and maybe it was related to the warm welcome here that lifted your mood. These people were so different from the ones you were used to in your everyday life. It was charming, really. 
You all sat down when someone pulled out a board game that seemed old and unfamiliar to you. But they were kind enough to explain the rules to you, and Charles even promised to help you throughout the game as he took a seat next to you. I only began to understand it around the third time we played it, so don’t be sad if you still don’t understand any of it by the end, he told you with a laugh. You returned his beaming smile, and in the next two hours or so you laughed a lot, argued a lot, and there was even some shouting when someone accused another of cheating. 
By the time they packed up the game, you were so tired you couldn't fight back your yawns. You glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed it was past three in the morning, and you knew it was time to go home now, because even though fun’s fun, there's a limit to everything. The thought of your soft bed was inviting, like a siren calling for you from the distance, and the idea of spending the whole day in it was the cherry on top.
“Going home?” Marie asked you with her hand resting on your shoulder, her tired smile giving away that she was probably also debating calling it a day. When you nodded, she let out a defeated sigh. “I wish I could go too, but I promised my father I'd stick around and help him clean up a bit after everyone left.”
Without thinking much, you pulled her into a hug. “I'm sure you could convince him to clean up tomo–well, later today,” you finished with a laugh. 
She leaned back to look at you. “And leave the dirty plates and glasses here? No, thank you. I'll just sleep a little longer, I guess,” she replied as she let you go.
Suddenly an arm landed around your shoulder, and based on the bracelets around the man's right wrist, it was a safe bet that the man was Charles. And sure enough, the driver's face came into view when he leaned into your field of vision. You watched him with a curious look in your eyes, but he didn't seem too interested in explaining what he wanted.
“I've already told this to your father, but thank you for hosting us, even though we arrived last minute without a warning,” he finished with a boyish smile before his green eyes turned to you. “But it's late, we'll head home now.” 
Marie kissed his cheek, then she reached out to squeeze your hand as a goodbye. “It was nice to have you both here. You know you can jump in anytime. And you,” she went on, turning to you, “would better not disappear on me. Let's have lunch together someday.”
“Of course. I'll give you a call tomorrow when we're both fully awake,” you promised with a smile.
The two of you said goodbye to everyone, then stepped out on the street, standing next to each other in silence. It felt like you had suddenly run out of topics to discuss, although after some thinking, you managed to find something you could bring up.
“You could've stayed a little longer,” you told him as your eyes found his face again. 
Charles laughed as he shook his head. “It's late, I could use some proper sleep too,” he admitted. As his eyes were focused on you, he bit on his lower lip and clearly thought about something. “Can I walk you home?” 
“That’s a nice offer, but I already called a taxi. Thanks for bringing me here, though. I had fun,” you said with a wide smile. It was true, you couldn't remember the last time you had been to such a nice New Year's Eve party. Your phone pinged to tell you the taxi was arriving, and when you noticed the car pulling up, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Charles.”
“Sleep tight,” he told you quietly, but you could feel there was something else he wanted to say. 
In the end, he remained silent, and you got in the car that took you home. As you sat there with your eyes taking in how magnificent this city looked tonight, you couldn't help but think about how the party turned out. It was nice to get to know him a little better, seeing a side of him that maybe wasn't as visible from the outside as one would expect. If you had known how fun he could be, you probably would have become friendly with him sooner.
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themultifanshipper · 3 days
Note
hatesex with Daniel Riccardo x reader 🟠 reader is a sister of either max or Norris lol whatever works for you but they're at a party then Daniel and reader get to a huge argument max/Lando told them to settle it privately so they went to the guest room to talk it out and I guess you know where the story goes from here (reader getting absolutely railed by Daniel)
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It’s hard to make a name for yourself in motorsports when your last name is already famous, in the form of a three time formula one world champion.
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Warnings: driver!reader, Verstappen!reader, bickering, Daniel is a real dick in this one guys, but so is reader, rancid vibes, smut, PinV sex, rough sex, kinda dubious consent at first, choking, y’all know the drill, basically fighting and fucking at the same time, it's something
(Also I forgot to put the first prompt in the fic but it's the viiibe)
You'd trailed behind him, following his every step (with a few years difference) and at the age of 21 you were starting your second year driving for VCARB.
You had met Daniel back when he and Max were teammates, and you immediately disliked him.
He flirted with everything that had a pulse, and he'd jokingly made a pass at you, and you'd gone straight to tell your brother.
You were 15.
It didn't go down well, at all.
On both sides. Max was furious at him for flirting with you, and Daniel was furious at you for snitching given that he had no idea Max was your brother.
You'd always been a hot-headed child. Using your mouth before your brain was your biggest flaw.
Then Daniel moved to Renault and you didn't see him again much after that.
But you vowed that if he was still in F1 by the time you got there, you would make his life a living hell.
And it was just your luck, Perez got fired at the beginning of 2023, Yuki was promoted, and your teammate Nyck was dropped mid season. Which meant that through some kind of fucked up twist of fate, Daniel Ricciardo was now your teammate. And to make matters worse, Redbull's circus pony also had the seat the year after.
You were the Verstappen project 2.0, and Daniel was a deeply resentful motherfucker.
Forget Senna and Prost, forget Brocedes, forget the old Verstappen-Ricciardo rivalry.
There was a new Verstappen in town, and she was worse than the last.
More aggressive, more petty, more youthful, and more talented (although Max would disagree with that last one).
Daniel didn't stand a fucking chance.
You'd even tried to buy each other out of the team, unsuccessfully.
But you did have one thing over him, and he didn’t even know it yet. Max was retiring after his 4th title, and you had been given his seat.
Max of course was good friends with Daniel, which made social situations quite awkward sometimes.
Like the party you were currently at.
You had won the last race, in Australia of all places, and there was a two week break during which Lewis (coming off the high of a p2 in a shitbox of a Mercedes) decided to throw a massive party in his penthouse.
Lewis knew how to throw a party, no one could deny that, but he seriously needed to be more careful what kind of scum he let through his front door.
That was your alcohol addled mind talking as you spotted Daniel walk in, stupid shirt open showing his stupid toned chest and stupid pants accentuating his slutty waist and stupid thick thighs…
That was also the alcohol talking.
Somehow you both ended up in the same circle on the patio along with a few other drivers.
The conversation inevitably steered towards Daniel's future in F1 given that he didn't yet have a contract for the 2025 season.
“So how does it feel being outperformed by not one, but two Verstappens in your career?”
You knew the question was petty and stupid and could only lead to another one of your regularly scheduled shouting matches, but you didn't give a shit.
He stopped mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes at you.
“And, how does it feel that you're in a backmarker team 14 years into your career, being overshadowed by someone in their second year?”
The silence was palpable, the other drivers were sipping their drinks and pretending they weren't listening.
Daniel was staring at you as if he couldn't believe you would dare start this shit in front of the others.
But you were drunk and loose lipped and right now you were capable of saying anything to rile him up.
Such as-
“And, hear me out, wouldn't it be funny if I got the Redbull seat before you do? And I didn’t even have to suck Christian's dick to get it!”
The fact that you were getting the other seat next year hadn't been revealed to the public yet, or the other drivers, or Daniel.
The words hit the group like a freight train, and you almost regretted opening your mouth, but the look on Daniel's face made it entirely worth it.
His nostrils flared and he slowly got up, didn't say a single word, and went back inside.
 The circle let out a collective breath.
“No comeback” you sighed, disappointed, downing the rest of your glass.
Lando, who was sitting next to you stared at you “Is it true about the Redbull seat?”
You smirked at him.
“Maybeee”
You stood up, brushed yourself off and followed Daniel inside, with the intention of getting another drink, when you were stopped in the hallway by your brother.
“What the fuck did you say to Daniel?” he hissed as he pushed you into the kitchen. “He’s angrily ranting about Christian and I just know you have something to do with it!”
You crossed your arms defiantly and stared at the neck of his polo shirt, avoiding his eyes.
“I might have mentioned something about him being washed and not being considered for next year’s Redbull's seat…” you shrugged “He's only angry because it's true”
Daniel chose that exact moment to walk into the kitchen, and when his eyes landed on you he scoffed.
“Getting scolded by your big brother now? Must be hard living in his shadow”
Once again, your mouth reacted quicker than your brain.
“That's rich coming from Redbull's talentless cash cow”
“You only just turned 21 and you're already drinking so much everything out of your mouth is bullshit-”
“Okay, that's it!” Max yelled.
He slammed his drink down next to yours on the counter and dragged you to the nearest guest room, motioning for Daniel to follow you.
“You two are actually driving me up the wall with this shit! I don't know why you hate each other so much but I am sick of the constant bickering. You are not coming out of this room until you find some way to get along!”
He slammed the door shut on his way out and you and Daniel were left in silence.
You just stared at each other, full of contempt.
“I hate you”
“Oh, I know! You’ve made that abundantly clear!”
Silence once again fell upon you because neither of you had anything constructive or remotely helpful to say, so you sat down on the bed and picked at your nails.
He just scoffed again and started pacing around the room.
You didn’t know how long the silence lasted, but it felt like it stretched on for at least ten good minutes before you decided you’d had enough.
You stood up abruptly, planning on storming out of there without a word, your brother be damned, when you stopped by Daniel speaking up before you’d even made it halfway across the room.
“Is true about the RedBull seat?”
You realized for the first time how shitty his situation actually was. And it probably wasn’t made any better by your constant insulting him. And breaking the news to him like that, in front of everyone was probably humiliating, and quite frankly a very shitty thing to-
��Because if it is you definitely don’t deserve it. It should go to a driver that’s earned it with experience, not Max’s second rate bitch of a sister”
Okay, never mind then.
You turned around to face him. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“My problem” he started, pushing himself off the wall he’d been leaning against “is that you don’t deserve that seat, I do.”
“Well despite you sucking Christian’s dick for a decade, he doesn’t agree.”
Daniel stepped towards you, towering over your frame menacingly but you continued “I’ve scored double the points in the first half of this season that you scored in your entire time at this team, so whether you like it or not, I’ll be taking Max’s seat next year.”
He growled and leaned down so that there was barely an inch between your faces. “Say that again, I dare you.”
“Which part? The part about me being better than you? Or the part about how you’ve been bending over for any team boss that’ll have you? It’s not exactl- mmf!”
He’d grabbed your neck and crashed his lips to yours, silencing the onslaught of painful truths he couldn’t accept.
You reflexively grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him closer, other hand weaving into his hair and pulling, making him grunt as he easily slipped his tongue into your eager mouth.
Fuck it felt good. It had been a while since you’d been able to find a random person who didn’t know who you were to have sex with, so you were slightly pent up. You could feel your body temperature rising as you started getting breathless, and Daniel bit your bottom lip.
You suddenly realised where you were and pushed him backwards roughly.
"I won in Australia"
“Fuck you” he panted.
“Never” you spat at him before attempting to walk past but he intercepted you and pushed you roughly onto the bed.
“Fuck you, fuck your trophy and fuck this fucking dress”
He took advantage of your disorientation to climb on himself and turn you over, hiking your hips up and shoving your dress up. 
“The fuck are you-“  you were interrupted by your panties being dragged down unceremoniously.
You gasped as a finger came to dip between your folds to feel the dampness that had pooled there. “Daniel don’t you fucking dare-“
“Pretty fucking wet for someone who claims to hate me” he slipped a finger in easily pumping it and out a couple of times before adding a second.
“I do hate you, and if you think anything you could possibly do will change that then you’re even more delusional than I thought” you managed to say through gritted teeth as he added a third, before undoing his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to get his hard cock out.
He popped the tip inside and slowly, inch by inch, slip into your tight heat.
I took everything you had in you to not make a sound, you refused to give him the satisfaction.
When he nudged your cervix you shuddered, but your lips stayed firmly sealed.
“Say the word and I’ll stop, sweetheart” he said, voice cracking with how good your walls felt around him, he’d waited for this moment for a long time.
You didn’t make a sound though, and he chuckled as he pulled out halfway.
“Thought so”
He thrusted back in roughly, making you choke on a moan as he continued at a relentless pace and his hips slapped against yours.
You whined quietly and he leaned over you, hips never faltering, to whisper in your ear “what was that beautiful? I didn’t quite catch it…”
After a particularly hard thrust you moaned properly for the first time and he laughed.
“Fuck you” you spat and his hand went to wrap into your hair to pull your head back as he mouthed at your neck.
“I am fucking you, and you’re going to come on my cock. Because even if you get the seat, I’ll get the satisfaction of knowing I have something Max doesn’t. This sweet fucking pussy, drooling helplessly around my cock while he’s in the other room.”
Each thrust was harder than the last, and your eyes were rolling back into your skull as you tried to maintain some sort of control.
But you were failing miserably, Daniel somehow hitting all the perfect spots as your legs gave out and you were forced to lay flat on the bed while Daniel pushed your head down into the pillows and he bullied his cock into your weeping cunt mercilessly.
“Daniel, fuck!” you whimpered, you high quickly approaching after the change of angle “Shit, I’m gonna…”
You were right on the edge, but Daniel pulled out suddenly, ripping your orgasm from your grasp.
“What-!”
He turned you over and pressed you into the mattress by your neck and shoved his cock back into you before you could protest further.
“I want to see you come undone on my cock, see your pretty face as you lose control.”
You gave him the most hate-filled look you could muster, but it quickly slipped away when he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder to deepen the angle.
Small whimpers escaped you despite you biting your lip to keep quiet.
That displeased Daniel greatly, so he grabbed your jaw and leaned over you.
“Open.”
He was so forceful you had no choice but to comply and he shoved two fingers in your mouth and pressed down on your tongue to stop you from concealing your noises.
“Wanna hear you baby, I want Max to hear how his precious little sister is actually a whore. How Christians new driver is fucking ruined on my cock. How despite how much you think you hate me, you’re going to scream my name while I fill you up.”
Your hands were scratching down his back at this point, only encouraging him to go harder, and your abandoned high quickly came back full force.
You moans got higher in pitch and Daniel used his other hand to rub messy circles over your puffy clit, essentially throwing you over the edge as your orgasm knocked the wind out of you.
Your cunt spasmed and clenched around Daniel and there wasn’t much he could do to hold off his own high as he came inside you, head falling to the crook of your neck as his hips finally grinded to a halt.
He didn’t move for a while as you both lay there catching your breaths, slowly coming to terms with what you’d just done.
“Max is going to fucking kill you” you said, and he snorted before pulled out.
“Oh please, Max is in love with me. Besides, who’s gonna tell him? You?” he raised a cocky eyebrow as you pursed your lips.
He was right, you sure as hell weren’t going to tell your brother about this.
“Whatever, you’re paying for my plan B. I’ll send you the bill.”
He just chuckled as you quickly got to your feet to pull your dress down and straighten yourself up in front of the large mirror in the corner (God, Lewis was a freak) before going off to find a bathroom to clean yourself up properly in.
In the corridor, you ran into Max, who crossed his arms and blocked your path.
“Well? Did you two sort it out?”
“No” you growled and he sighed dejectedly.
You didn’t have time for this though, you could feel Daniel’s cum leaking out of you and running down your leg, so you pushed Max out of the way and rushed to the nearest bathroom.
Unbeknownst to you, Daniel came out of the bedroom right after, and just as Max looked at him he was still putting his belt back on.
It didn’t take a genius to guess what that meant, Max saw red as Daniel froze, the older man noticing him a beat too late.
Well, so much for keeping it on the down low…
The rest of the season was going to be interesting…
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itneverendshere · 2 days
Note
If you ever heard the song “Insecure” by Jazmine Sullivan, I was wondering if you could read a fic with rafe about that
it’s Like toxic!rafe and reader
insecure - bsf!toxic!rafe x kook!reader
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If someone asked you how it started, you couldn’t even tell them.
It was Rafe Cameron you were talking about.
The guy was a walking red flag, all swagger, all ego, and too much money for his own good. He had the type of face that made you forgive him even when you didn’t want to. And trust, you'd tried to not want to. But that never worked out, obviously.
It’s not like you thought you could change him or whatever. You were not one of those girls. You just...thought you’d be different. Special. Maybe you got a little caught up in that fairy tale bullshit sometimes. Like, maybe if you were the one who held his attention long enough, maybe he’d stop messing around and actually be serious.
Actually see you.
Spoiler alert: That’s not how it worked
You learned that real quick with Rafe.
It wasn’t even two months in before you found some girl's scrunchie in his Jeep.
You were leaving the club, both tipsy, and you slid into the passenger seat when you spotted it in the back. You know how girls leave stuff behind like it’s a game? Like it’s their way of marking territory? That scrunchie was practically a neon sign that read, "I was here."
You picked it up, twirled it around your finger, and waited for him to notice.
He didn’t.
“What's this?” You finally asked, not even looking at him, just staring at that stupid pink scrunchie like it had all the answers you needed.
Rafe glanced over at it for half a second before shrugging, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Dunno. Probably Sarah’s.”
Sarah Cameron, his sister, the golden girl of the family. His excuse every time something came up.
“It’s not Sarah’s.” You weren't buying it. You knew that girl’s style inside and out, and there’s no way in hell she’d be caught dead wearing something this basic. You tossed it into the backseat, feeling your blood boil.
Of course he’d still treat you like shit, why care about a lifelong friendship, right?
Rafe rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have the decency to act like he cared that you were pissed.
“You’re being dramatic,” he said, his voice dripping with that condescension that always made you feel stupid for caring. “It’s just a fucking scrunchie.”
But it wasn’t. Not to you.
See, the thing with Rafe is, he never said he was yours. You never had some grand conversation about exclusivity, about titles, none of that. But that’s how it was with him. He’d show up at your door, flash that killer smile, and you’d forget every reason why he wasn’t good for you.
And yet, there was this constant feeling in your chest.
Tight, twisted, like a knot you couldn’t untangle.
It wasn’t just the girls or the scrunchies or the way he’d disappear for days, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and half-assed explanations. It was you. How you felt around him. You were constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if you were enough, if you were what he wanted. Things were so different before.
If you were even on his radar when you weren't right in front of him. And that feeling, that deep, gnawing insecurity? It was starting to mess with your head.
A week after the scrunchie incident, you found yourself at another one of those parties on Figure Eight. The kind where we Kooks pretend we're so much better than everyone else but still drink cheap beer out of red solo cups. It was the usual crowd—Topper, Kelce, a few other guys you barely knew, and, of course, Rafe.
You were wearing this black mini dress you knew he liked, the one that hugged your body in all the right places. You wanted to feel good tonight, like you could make him see you the way you needed him to. It was pathetic, but you thought if you played your cards right, maybe you'd get more than just half-hearted attention.
But then, halfway through the night, you saw her.
This girl—some random pogue you'd never seen before—leaning against the bar, laughing at something Rafe was saying. And it wasn’t just that he was talking to her. No, it was the way he was looking at her. That look he used to give you when you first started whatever this was between you two.
Like she was the most interesting thing in the room. Like she was the only thing. Even if she was wearing that cheap, threadbare tank top and worn-out jean shorts. The kind of clothes that screamed she probably worked at some surf shop or waited tables just to get by. And here Rafe was, cozying up to her like she was something special. Like she wasn’t just another girl he’d forget about tomorrow. Making yourself compare to someone like her.
You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, your palms sweaty as you watched them. You could feel your heart sinking, your gut screaming at you to just leave. But you didn’t. You just stood there, like an idiot, frozen in place, watching him slide his hand up the back of her arm, a move so smooth, so practiced, it made you feel sick.
You hated this. Hated yourself. Hated that you let him have this kind of power over you.
Your mind did that annoying thing where it flashed back to the first time you slept with him. Like it wanted to torture you with every little detail of how you got here. You’d both been drunk, of course. But not blackout drunk—just the kind of buzzed where everything feels a little too easy, a little too warm.
You’d known Rafe forever, been best friends since you were kids. He was practically a part of you, or at least, he used to be. You trusted him, which is why when he showed up at your place that night, laughing about something stupid, you didn’t think twice when he crashed on your couch.
Only he didn’t stay on the couch.
You remember how he looked at you from across the room, that cocky smile he always wore, but softer somehow. Like he wasn’t quite sure if he was going to make a move. He’d leaned in, brushed his hand against your leg—casual, but not really. Your heart had pounded in your chest, but you didn’t stop him.
You didn’t want to stop him.
And when he kissed you? You were done for. All those years of being “just friends” went right out the window. It was like all the tension between you, all the unspoken stuff, just exploded. You were in his lap before you even realized what was happening, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer.
You told yourself it didn’t mean anything—that it was just this one-time thing, a moment of weakness.
But Rafe… he knew how to get to you.
He made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered, even though you weren’t. You were just there, convenient. But at the time? You didn’t see it like that. You thought maybe this would change everything. That maybe the Rafe you’d grown up with was still in there somewhere, buried under all the coke, the girls, the chaos.
You were wrong.
It hurt. It hurt like hell. And the worst part was, you couldn’t even blame the girl. She probably had no idea who Rafe really was. She just saw the guy with the money, the smile, the charm.
Your throat tightened as he leaned in, saying something that made her laugh again. That same laugh he’d once pulled out of you. God, how could you be so stupid? You knew what he was. Hell, you’d known for years. But still, you’d let yourself get wrapped up in him, like maybe you’d be the exception. Like maybe you’d matter.
But you didn’t. You were just another girl he’d sweet-talk, mess with, and then forget about the second something new and shiny came along.
Topper came up beside you, nudging you with his shoulder. “You good?”
You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the scene in front of you and forcing a smile. “Yeah, totally. Just need another drink.” Your voice was light, casual, but inside, you were falling apart.
He gave you a weird look, but shrugged it off.
Guess everyone knew how you felt about Rafe. You weren't exactly subtle about it.
You downed another vodka soda, the burn doing nothing to numb the ache in your chest, and made a beeline for the back of the house.
You needed air. You needed to breathe.
You barely made it past the kitchen before you felt someone grab your wrist, pulling you into the hallway. You turned, expecting it to be some random guy, but no—it was Rafe. His grip was tight, a little too tight, and you could see the annoyance in his eyes.
“You’re leaving already?”
Rafe’s grip on your wrist was too tight, but it wasn’t like that surprised you anymore. It was always like this with him—one second, things were fine, and the next, you were stuck in this same stupid cycle of feeling small and stupid for caring.
“I just need some air,” you muttered, trying to pull away, but of course, he didn’t let go. His eyes flicked across your face like he was trying to figure out if you were actually upset or just being “dramatic,” which, spoiler alert, you weren’t.
“You’re not seriously mad about that girl, right?” His voice dripped with amusement, like your feelings were some kind of joke to him. He leaned in, lowering his voice like that was supposed to make you feel better. “It’s not that deep.”
It's hard to remember this used to be your best friend, before you two started whatever this game was and he decided you just weren't that girl to him anymore, just another body he could call up when he needed to get laid.
You stared at him, mouth dry, trying to figure out why you were even still standing here.
“Really?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Because it kinda feels like it is.” You finally yanked your wrist free, stepping back just enough to get some space. “Do you even care? Like, do you even care that you’re making me feel like this?” You hated how your voice cracked, how vulnerable you sounded.
Rafe just stared at you like you were overreacting. “I don’t get what the big deal is. Why are you always making this such a thing?”
Fun. God, that word made your stomach turn.
Fun for who? You knew what he meant, but hearing it out loud still stung. You’d been holding onto this hope, this ridiculous idea that maybe you were different, maybe he cared more. But it was so clear now. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t even close.
“It’s a thing because it is a thing,” you said, voice shaky but steady enough. “I can’t just turn off my feelings like you do, Rafe. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when I see you flirting with other girls like I don’t exist.”
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “You’re making this complicated. I never said we were serious. You knew what this was from the start.”
And there it was.
The slap of reality you’d been avoiding for way too long. He never said you were his, never promised you anything more than what he gave—a few nights here and there, some attention when it was convenient for him, but nothing real.
And you knew that. But it didn’t stop you from wanting more.
“But you still keep me around, don’t you?” you said quietly, mostly talking to yourself at this point. “You keep me close when it’s easy, when it’s fun for you. And I let you.”
God, that hurt to admit out loud. You let him make you feel like this. Over and over.
Rafe just stood there, completely unfazed. Like this was no big deal. He shrugged, and it made you want to scream. “If you’re so unhappy, then just leave.”
You stared at him, feeling your heart twist in your chest. How did it always come back to this? Him pushing you away like you didn’t mean anything. Like you weren’t standing right here, hurting. You searched his face for something—anything—that showed he actually gave a damn.
But there was nothing.
“Yeah,” you whispered, throat tight. “Maybe I should.”
Rafe blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky was green. The moment you said “maybe I should,” it was like the words didn’t even register with him. He let out this half-laugh, half-scoff, eyebrows raised. “Wait—what? You’re not actually serious right now.”
You just stood there, trying to hold onto the last shred of whatever self-respect you had left, but his reaction made you feel like you were the crazy one. Like you weren’t the one who’d been dragged through the emotional wringer for months.
“I’m serious,” you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible, but inside? You were shaking. “I’m done.”
He shook his head, like you were talking nonsense. “C’mon, stop. You always say shit like this when you’re mad. You’ll cool off in a couple hours. You’re just… overreacting. Again.”
That word—overreacting—was like gasoline on the fire burning inside you.
“I’m not overreacting. I’m tired.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of all the times you’d let him off the hook. “I’m tired of feeling like an idiot every time I care about you. Every time I think we might actually be something.”
He took a step closer, and you could smell the beer and expensive cologne clinging to him. “We are something,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound almost genuine, like he believed it. “We have fun. You’re acting like I’m out here trying to hurt you or somethin'.”
“You don’t think you’re hurting me because you never even think about me in the first place,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You never even consider how any of this makes me feel, and that’s the problem. You don’t care.”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t fight back like you half-expected him to. Instead, he just stared at you, confusion all over his face, like this was the first time he’d ever heard any of this.
“So what, you’re just gonna leave?” He asked it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like the concept of you actually walking away from him didn’t make any sense. “You’re not serious. You won’t actually leave.”
Your heart twisted at that—at how confident he was that you’d stay. That no matter how many times he messed up, no matter how many girls there were, or how many times he ghosted you, you’d always be right there, waiting. Because you always were. All your life.
He was so sure of it.
You felt your hands shake, and you hated that he still had that power over you. That even now, standing here in this stupid hallway at some stupid party, your heart was still fighting your brain, still wanting to hold onto him just a little bit longer.
But you couldn’t. Not anymore.
“Yeah, Rafe. I’m leaving.” The words came out firm, stronger than you even thought you were capable of right now. “I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”
For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Panic, maybe. Or maybe it was just the realization that he didn’t have you as locked down as he thought. “You’re really gonna walk away from this?” He gestured between the two of you, as if whatever this was had been so good, so untouchable. “Don’t be stupid.”
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You think I’m the one being stupid? You’ve taken me for granted this whole time, and I was dumb enough to let you."
He just stood there, silent, looking like he didn’t even know how to answer. Because he didn’t. He never actually thought you’d go. He never thought you’d call him on his shit and mean it.
But you did. And now he was realizing it.
Without waiting for him to say another word, you turned and walked away, feeling like you could finally breathe for the first time in a long time. 
You barely made it a few steps before you heard him call after you. “Wait, hold on!”
You kept walking, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. You knew if you stopped, if you even looked back at him, you’d get sucked right back in. But of course, Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easy.
“Wait!” His voice was closer now, and before you could pick up the pace, he grabbed your arm—not harshly this time, just enough to make you stop. “Come on, don’t just walk away.”
You sighed, shutting your eyes for a second before turning around. “What, Rafe? What do you want me to say?” You were so exhausted from this, from him, from the constant back and forth. “I’m not doing this anymore.”
He let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but trying to rein it in. “Can we just… talk about this? You’re pissed right now, and I get it, but you can’t just leave like this.”
“I can leave,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “That’s literally what I’m doing."
He exhaled sharply, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re really just gonna throw everything away? After all this time?”
You stared at him, heart pounding in your chest. “What exactly am I throwing away? Huh? What have we even been lately? ’Cause from where I’m standing, all I’ve been doing is waiting around for you to decide if I’m worth more than just a random hookup whenever you feel like it.”
He winced at that, and for a second, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d get it. Maybe this would be the moment where he actually realized how badly he’d been screwing up. But instead, he went for the same excuse he always did.
“It’s not like that,” he said quickly, like that would erase everything. “You know I care about you, okay? We’ve known each other forever. You’re… important to me.”
“Important to you?” You laughed, but it wasn’t even close to funny. “If this is how you treat people who are ‘important’ to you, then I don’t even wanna know how you treat people who aren’t. Oh wait, I do know."
Rafe sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. But…Can we just, like, think about it for a second? Talk about it?”
You shook your head, feeling the frustration build again. “What is there to talk about? You only wanna have this conversation now because I’m actually leaving. You never wanted to talk about it before.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “No, Rafe. You think I haven’t tried to bring this up? Every time I tell you how I feel, you brush me off. I’ve been bending over backwards, trying to make this work, and all I’ve gotten in return is you treating me like I’m an afterthought.”
Rafe frowned, his jaw tightening. “That’s not true. I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Because I’m walking away,” you shot back. “That’s the only reason you care right now—because you don’t wanna lose control. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You never actually thought I’d leave.”
He didn’t say anything, which pretty much told you everything you needed to know.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “We used to be best friends. I knew you better than anyone, and you knew me. But I don’t even recognize you anymore. And honestly? I don’t recognize me when I’m around you either.” Your voice softened, "I deserve better than this. And you know it.”
For a second, he just stood there, looking at you like he was processing everything. His face wasn’t smug or arrogant anymore. He actually looked… lost. Maybe even scared. It was the first time you’d seen him drop the act in a long time, and for a split second, you felt that pull again—the one that always made you want to fix things, to make it better, to stay.
But you couldn’t do it this time. You couldn’t keep saving him at the expense of yourself.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” he finally said, his voice quieter, almost vulnerable. “You’re… you’re one of the only people who actually gets me. I don’t wanna lose that.”
That hit you right in the gut, because deep down, you didn’t wanna lose him either. He was right—you did know him better than anyone. But that didn’t change what he’d been putting you through. And just because he was scared of losing you didn’t mean he was ready to treat you the way you deserved to be treated.
“I don’t wanna lose you either,” you admitted, “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being the girl you turn to when it’s convenient for you.”
He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to the ground like he didn’t know what to say. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was finally realizing how badly he’d screwed this up.
You sighed, stepping back. “Look, I hope you figure your shit out. I really do. But I’m not sticking around to wait for that.”
You’d barely taken two steps when you heard him again, this time his voice quieter, almost desperate. “Wait—please. Just… don’t go.”
You paused, but you didn’t turn around. You were trying so hard to keep it together, to not let him see how badly this was wrecking you. Then he dropped the bomb.
“You’re the only thing keeping me sober.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned back around, eyes wide. “What?”
He looked at you like he was begging you to understand, to stay. “I’m serious. Since I stopped using…you’re the only thing that’s been helping me hold it together. You leaving—it’s gonna fuck me up. You know that.”
Your heart twisted, hard. Of course he’d pull this now. You stared at him, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 
“I’m not lying,” He insisted, taking a step closer. “I swear. I’m trying to do better. You’re the reason I haven’t gone back to that shit. You’ve always been the one to pull me out of it, and if you leave—”
“Stop,” you snapped, holding up a hand. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re really trying to put this on me?” Your voice was rising, and you didn’t even care if people inside the party heard you. “You’re trying to make me responsible for you staying clean? Do you realize how fucked up that is?”
Rafe flinched, his expression shifting from desperate to defensive. “I’m just saying it how it is. You’ve helped me more than anyone else. You know that.”
“No,” you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m not doing this. I’m not carrying that weight for you. That’s not fair, and you know it.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done. “You can’t just dump your problems on me and expect me to fix them. I’m not your therapist, and I’m definitely not your savior.” Your chest was heaving now, all the anger and hurt that had been building up for months finally spilling over. “You don’t get to use your sobriety as a leash to keep me here.”
His face fell at that, and for a split second, you saw a flash of guilt. But it wasn’t enough. “I’m not trying to manipulate you,” he said, though even he sounded unsure of his words now. “I just… I don’t know what else to do.”
“You don’t know what to do because you’ve never had to actually deal with the consequences of your actions,” you fired back. “You’ve always just said whatever you needed to say to keep people around. To keep me around.”
Rafe looked at you like he wanted to fight back, but the fight wasn’t there. Not this time. “That’s not what this is,” he muttered, but it sounded weak even to him.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m glad you’re sober. I really am. But that’s not my responsibility. It never should’ve been.” You paused, feeling every word you were about to say. “If staying clean depends on me staying in your life, then you haven’t actually changed. You’ve just found a new addiction.”
He stared at you, and for the first time, he didn’t have a response. No cocky smirk, no empty promises. Just silence.
“I’m not gonna be your crutch anymore,” you said softly, the anger fading, replaced with a deep, painful sadness. “You need to get better for you, not for me. And if you can’t do that… then this was never gonna work anyway.”
Rafe’s shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeat in his eyes, like he was finally realizing that no matter what he said, this time you weren’t coming back.
“Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”
You blinked back the tears that were starting to sting your eyes. “You’ll figure it out."
His on his knees before you realized. Literally.
Your eyes widened in complete disbelief. “Rafe, what the hell are you doing?”
He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just staring at the floor, hands running through his hair like he was about to lose it. “Please don’t leave. I’m begging you. I—I can’t… I don’t know what to do without you.”
You froze, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind. Because maybe he had. What was this? You felt like you were watching some movie, except it was your life, and it wasn’t dramatic or romantic or whatever he thought it was. It was just… sad. And kind of terrifying.
“Get up.” Your voice wasn’t even loud—it was flat, emotionless. You didn’t even know what to feel anymore. “Rafe, seriously. Get the fuck up.”
He didn’t move.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice shaky. “I’m so fucking sorry. You’re all I’ve ever had, okay? Since we were kids, you’ve been the only person who’s ever stuck with me. Everyone else leaves. Everyone. But not you. You’ve always been there, no matter how much I’ve messed up.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut because, deep down, they were true. You had always been there. Through everything. The good, the bad, and the absolute worst. And maybe that’s why it hurt so damn much now—because he’d taken that loyalty, that friendship, and twisted it into something ugly and unrecognizable.
“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I seriously can’t believe you right now.” You shook your head, staring at him in disbelief. “You think this is gonna fix everything? You think getting on your knees and saying some bullshit is gonna make me forget all the times you hurt me?"
He looked up at you, his eyes glassy, and it almost made your heart break. Almost. But you weren't going to fall for it anymore. “I didn’t mean to take you for granted. I just—I never thought you’d actually leave. You never left before.”
“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” you snapped, “You always thought I’d stay, no matter how bad you treated me. You counted on it."
“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice cracking. “I know I fucked up. But I’ll do anything to fix it. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Please, just don’t go.”
You stared at him, the guy you’d known since forever, the one you’d stuck by when no one else did. The one you thought you could save, even though now you realized you couldn’t even save yourself when you were with him.
But this? Him on his knees? This wasn’t him fixing anything. This was him panicking, terrified that the one thing he’d taken for granted all these years was slipping away.
“I’m not the one who’s supposed to keep you alive. That’s on you. I’ve been there for you since we were six, and look where that’s gotten me. Look where that’s gotten us.”
His eyes were pleading, desperate, but you knew that if you stayed, this would keep happening. He would hurt you again, and you’d forgive him.
Because that’s what you did. That’s what you’d always done.
“I can’t keep being your safety net,” you whispered, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “You have to figure out who you are without me always picking up the pieces.”
He shook his head. “But I don’t know how.”
And that was the saddest part of all. He didn’t know how. He had no idea who he was without you constantly there to catch him when he fell. And you were tired of being the one holding him up while he pulled you down.
You took a deep breath, looking down at him—this broken, scared version of Rafe you never wanted to see.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “but this? This isn’t love. This isn’t healthy. This is you being afraid of losing control. And I’m not gonna let you use me to keep your shit together anymore.”
His eyes filled with tears, and for a second, your heart ached. Because yeah, you loved him once. Maybe you still did in some messed-up way. But love wasn’t supposed to feel like drowning.
“I hope you get better,” you said, taking a step back. “I really do. But I can’t be a part of this anymore.”
And for the first time in your life, you were the one to walk away.
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𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗨𝗽 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗠𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗮𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝘁𝟭
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Warnings: None
Maknaeline x Reader. Angst.
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ᒍIᔕᑌᑎG
Jisung was always the one to make people laugh, to brighten the room with his energy and humor. His smile was contagious, his jokes quick, and his laughter a sound you cherished immensely. But what people didn’t see, what Jisung hid behind his laughter, was his fear - the constant nagging doubt that told him he wasn’t good enough. Sure people could tell he was an anxious mess. He talked about with Stays, opened up to many people about his anxiety. But few people truly understood what exactly was harbored within that.
You knew that information, of course. You’d been by his side long enough to see the cracks in his playful exterior; and even his anxious exterior. But even you hadn’t realized how deep those insecurities ran - you thought you did. But it wasn't until you accidentally hit a nerve you didn’t know was there that you understood the depth of it; maybe even deeper than anyone else did.
It was late at night, and you and Jisung were lying on the floor of his living room, watching music videos. It was something you often did when he needed to unwind after long studio sessions. He was particularly quiet tonight, though, his usual playfulness replaced by something more subdued.
“Are you okay?” you asked, nudging him gently with your foot.
Jisung shrugged, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Yeah, just tired.”
You weren’t convinced. “You sure? You’ve been kind of quiet all night. I miss hearing your voice, yeobo.”
He hesitated before finally sighing. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just feeling...off.”
You sat up, concerned. “Off how?” You paused the video you were watching and turned all of your attention to him.
He shifted uncomfortably, sitting up too, and running a hand through his hair. “It’s stupid.”
“Nothing you feel is stupid,” you said softly, encouraging him to open up.
Jisung gave you a half-hearted smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve just been feeling like...maybe I’m not doing enough? Like, no matter how hard I work, it’s never enough to be at the level I should be. I see the other guys, and sometimes it feels like they’re ahead of me in everything. Better rappers, better singers...even better at being funny.”
You frowned, surprised at the confession. “Jisung, that’s not true. You’re amazing at all those things.” You knew first hand. You got to see all of that up close while being held in his arms, while kissing him goodbye, or cuddling. You got to see him for him...yet he couldn't even see himself?
He gave a bitter laugh, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Maybe. But it doesn’t feel like it.”
You weren’t sure how to respond. You hated seeing him like this, so wrapped up in his doubts that he couldn’t see how talented he truly was. But you didn't know if anything you would say would make it better. So, in a misguided attempt to lighten the mood, you joked, “Well, at least you’ve got that cute quokka thing going for you, right? No one can beat you at that.”
It was meant to make him laugh, to break the tension. But instead, Jisung’s face fell, his expression crumbling in a way that made your heart stop.
"Bab-"
He stood up abruptly, the sudden movement startling you. “So, that’s it? I’m just the cute, funny guy? That’s all people see?” His boba eyes met yours in a frantic worry.
Your eyes widened in shock. “Jisung, no, that’s not what I meant-”
“But that’s what you said!” he snapped, his voice rising, something sharp and hurt laced in every word. “I’m just the guy people laugh at. The one who makes everyone else look better because I’m the ‘funny one.’ The one who is always anxious and pitied! I’m not taken seriously. Not by you, not by anyone.” He cried.
“That’s not true!” you protested, standing up and reaching out for him, but he pulled away.
“Isn’t it?” His voice cracked, and you could see the vulnerability behind the anger. “You’re just like everyone else. You think I’m a joke?Something to pity?”
You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “Jisung, that’s not it at all. I didn’t mean-”
“I can’t do this right now,” he interrupted, his tone flat, as if he was trying to push down the emotions threatening to spill over. “I need to be alone.”
And just like that, he walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, speechless and devastated. The door to his bedroom closed with a soft click, and you were left with the echo of your words - the ones you hadn’t meant to say, the ones that had hurt him so deeply.
You sank down in front his door, wanting to be near him even in the slightest sense. The tears you held finally slipping down your cheeks. You had only wanted to make him smile, but instead, you had struck right at the heart of his insecurities. And now, you weren’t sure how to fix it.
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ᖴEᒪI᙭
Felix was like the sun. His warmth radiated from every word, every smile, every laugh. Being around him was like basking in the glow of a never-ending summer day. But what people didn’t realize, what Felix kept hidden so well, was the fear that lingered just beneath the surface - the fear that, no matter how bright he tried to shine, the shadows would always be there.
You and Felix had been inseparable for months. It wasn’t just his warmth that drew you to him; it was the way he made everything feel lighter, easier. He was the light in your life, and you were sure you were the same for him. You needed him like you needed oxygen.
But that night, something shifted.
It had been a long day for both of you, and Felix had been uncharacteristically solemn. He’d barely said anything since you arrived at his apartment, his usual playfulness replaced with a strange tension that had settled in the air like a storm waiting to break.
You were sitting on the couch together, watching a movie, huddled up in a blanket due to the freezing living room; product of your broken heater, but his focus was elsewhere. He kept fidgeting, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his hoodie, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Lix, are you okay, baby?” you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm.
He flinched slightly at your touch, pulling his arm away before giving you a tight smile, and then in regret letting his arm rest into yours slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
You frowned. That wasn’t the Felix you knew. He'd never flinch at your touch or pull away; rather the opposite. Normally, he’d be snuggling up against you, cracking jokes, or commenting on the movie, but tonight he was distant, like he was somewhere far away.
“Are you sure?” you pressed, concern lacing your voice. “You’ve seemed off all day, love.”
Felix shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “I’m fine, really.” His lips were turned downwards, his eyes not looking as bright as they usually did.
You weren’t convinced, but you didn’t want to push too hard. So, you tried to lighten the mood instead, hoping to bring back the Felix you knew. “Maybe you’re just tired of hearing me talk. I mean, you’ve been so quiet tonight, maybe I’ve been boring you to death.” You took a breath and straightened your posture. "I'll stop yapping if you want some quiet. I wouldn't want to rain on the sunshine boy's day." You said patting his head, but he pulled away harshly this time.
It was meant as a joke, something playful to ease the tension. But the second the words left your mouth, Felix’s face changed. His expression hardened, and he stood up abruptly, startling you.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, his voice low, but there was an edge to it that you hadn’t heard before.
You blinked, confused by the sudden change in his demeanor. “What? No, I was just joking, Lix-”
“Yeah, well, maybe it’s not funny,” he snapped, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. “Maybe I’m not in the mood to laugh right now.”
Your heart sank at the sight of him standing there, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched. You hadn’t meant to upset him - you had just been trying to make things better, but it was clear now that you’d only made them worse.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said quickly, standing up and reaching for him, but Felix stepped back, shaking his head.
“It’s not about that,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s about everything.”
“Everything?” you repeated, your voice small. “Felix, what are you talking about? Did I do something wrong? Are we breaking up?”
He let out a bitter laugh, one that sounded so wrong coming from him. “It’s about how no matter what I do, I’m always the one who’s ‘cute’ or ‘sweet’ or ‘sunshine,’ never anything else. Just that. Never enough.”
“Felix, you’re more than enough,” you said, your voice shaking as you stepped closer to him. “You’re amazing in every way-” You didn't know what he was talking about. What did he mean by "never enough"? What did he mean by "just that"?
“Am I?” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Because sometimes it feels like I’m just here to make everyone else feel better. Like I’m only worth something because I’m the one always smiling, always making everyone laugh. But what happens when I’m not? What happens when I can’t be that ‘sunshine’ everyone expects me to be? Then what?”
His words hit you hard, and for the first time, you could see how much weight Felix had been carrying. He had always been the bright one, the happy one, the one who brought light into any room. But beneath that light was a darkness he’d kept hidden, a fear of never being seen for who he truly was.
“Felix, that’s not true,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you took another step toward him. “You’re not just some...some image of sunshine to me. You’re so much more than that.” Your eyes were watery and you tried to stay strong and blink the tears away. You rubbed your face and sniffed, trying to wipe the beginning flow of a stream of snot. "I...love you for much more than that..."
But Felix didn’t seem to hear you. He was lost in his own thoughts, spiraling further into his insecurities, and you could see the hurt etched on his face.
“You don’t get it,” he muttered, his eyes dark with frustration. “You don’t understand what it’s like to feel like you could become useless any second; to go from enough to not enough in an instant - to feel like the only thing you’re good at is pretending everything’s fine. And that that is the only reason people like you.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. What could you say to make him believe you? To make him see that he was more than enough, that his value didn’t depend on always being the happy one?
“I’m tired,” Felix finally whispered, his voice so soft it was barely audible. “I’m tired of pretending. I'm tired of everything, to be honest.”
The vulnerability in his words broke your heart, and you reached out for him again, this time gently taking his hand in yours. But Felix didn’t look at you. His gaze was fixed on the floor, as if he couldn’t bear to face you.
“I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. You didn't want to break up. Ever. “Please, Lixxie talk to me?" Your voice was hanging by a thread.
One that was instantly snapped as Felix didn’t respond, just pulling his hand away from yours, his body tense with a pain you couldn’t reach. And without even a final glance, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there in the cold room and a silence that rivaled it.
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ᔕEᑌᑎGᗰIᑎ
Seungmin had always been known for his calm demeanor and quiet strength. He didn’t outwardly seek attention like others, but his presence was undeniable - a steadying force in any storm. He someone people could rely on, the one who would always be there, quietly doing his best.
But there were things Seungmin never said out loud, things he buried beneath his composed exterior.
Lately, you had noticed a shift in him. The small, easy moments you used to share had been replaced by a distance you couldn’t quite explain. His responses were shorter, his smiles less frequent, and though he never said it, something was clearly weighing on him.
You were worried about it. Your two-year anniversary around the corner, and it made you wonder if he was considering ending things. Maybe he was tired of you?
It had been another long day at the dorm, and you were hanging out with Seungmin in the living room, just trying to enjoy some downtime. But there was an unspoken tension between you, and every attempt at conversation seemed to hit a wall.
“Seungmin, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice soft but filled with concern. He had been so quiet lately, and you were worried that something was wrong. "Did I do something to upset you?"
Seungmin looked up from his phone, his expression carefully neutral. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but there was a slight edge to his voice, one you hadn’t heard from him before. "And no, you didn't."
You frowned, not convinced. “Are you sure? You’ve seemed really distant lately...like something’s bothering you. And- And I just wanted to make sure I didn't accidentally hurt your feelings or something...”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if he didn’t want to have this conversation. “I’m just tired. It’s nothing.”
But you knew it wasn’t nothing. There was something beneath the surface, something he wasn’t saying, and you hated feeling like you were being shut out. Seungmin wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he had never been this distant before.
“You don’t have to tell me everything,” you said gently, trying to reach him. “But I’m here if you need to talk. You don’t have to handle everything on your own, you know?”
Seungmin’s eyes flickered for a moment, but then his walls came back up. He shrugged, giving you a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m handling it.”
That was when the frustration bubbled up inside you. You weren’t angry at him, but the distance he was creating hurt, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap.
In simplest terms: he was scaring you.
“Seungmin, you can’t keep everything bottled up forever,” you said, your voice a little sharper than you intended. “You don’t have to pretend like everything’s fine all the time.”
Seungmin’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, you saw something flicker in his eyes - something like hurt, or maybe frustration. But it disappeared just as quickly.
“I’m not pretending,” he said quietly, but there was a coldness in his voice now.
You didn’t want to push him, but you couldn’t just sit there and pretend like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. You couldn't let whatever was bothering him fester even more; because if that would result in the end of your relationship than you wouldn't be able to live with yourself for not trying to save it. “It feels like you’re shutting me out, Seungmin. And I don’t know why.”
He was quiet for a long moment, and just when you thought he wasn’t going to respond, he stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe because I am shutting you out.”
The words were so quiet you almost didn’t hear them, but when they finally sank in, your heart dropped.
“What?” you whispered, standing up to face him. “Seungmin, why...why won't you just explain to me what I did?”
"Sometimes I feel like I'm not who everyone thinks I am."
"Min what do you mean by that?"
"Nothing-"
"Why won't you tell me?"
Seungmin’s eyes were dark with frustration now, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his usually calm demeanor. “Because maybe I don't want to tell you!" He shouts.
The weight of his words hit you like a semi.
“Seungmin, whatever is wrong please- tell me,” you said quickly, taking a step closer to him. "We're supposed to rely on each other in times like these. You can rely on me just like I can rely on you-"
But before you could finish, Seungmin cut you off, his voice laced with bitterness. “Isn't that the problem?” He let out a sarcastic laugh. "I'm the reliable one? So much so that I'm known as the quiet one who is always there when people need him? Like need him need him?"
Your throat tightened, and you felt a lump forming in your chest. You had no idea he felt this way, no idea he had been struggling with this sense of invisibility.
Was that what he was struggling with?
Because for some reason you felt as if it was much more than what you were assuming. But maybe your assumption was correct?
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, reaching for him, but Seungmin took a step back, shaking his head. "If you feel invisible-"
“Don’t,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I need...I just need some space right now. I don't think you could even understand if I tried to explain.”
And before you could say anything else, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there in the suffocating silence, your heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid.
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ᒍEO���GIᑎ
You’d always admired Jeongin for his youthful spirit and the way he managed to balance the pressures of his career with a bright, playful attitude. But beneath that light-hearted exterior, you knew there were layers to him - things he didn’t always reveal. His role as the youngest in Stray Kids often came with expectations that weighed heavily on him, but Jeongin rarely spoke about it unless he was feeling vulnerable.
Today had been one of those days where he seemed a bit quieter than usual. You had both decided to hang out at the dorm, hoping to unwind after his busy schedule. Everything was normal, at first. You were teasing him about his latest performance, laughing about something silly he did on stage. He had been smiling, but there was a hint of something in his eyes that made you pause.
"You're so lucky, Innie," you said without thinking, the words slipping out as you laughed. "Everyone always loves the maknae. You get all the attention without even trying." It was true.
He didn't even try catching your attention, but the minute you saw him you had an unmistakable attraction; an irrepressible pull to him.
Jeongin's smile faltered, his dimple disappearing, and his eyes dropped to the floor. He didn’t respond right away, which was unusual for him. You realized too late that what you’d said had hit a nerve. You had only meant it as a lighthearted comment, but there was an underlying truth to it that stung.
"Innie?" you asked cautiously, your laughter fading as you noticed the sudden shift in his demeanor.
Jeongin stood up slowly, turning away from you as he ran a hand through his hair. His movements were tense, his back rigid as he faced the wall.
"Jeongin...what's wrong?" you asked softly, feeling a knot form in your stomach. You hadn’t meant to upset him.
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You think it’s lucky? Being the youngest, being the one everyone looks at like I’m some kind of...kid."
Your heart dropped. "No, I didn’t mean it like that baby I mean-"
"But that’s what you think, right?" Jeongin interrupted, his voice quiet, but hardening. He turned to face you, and you were taken aback by the hurt in his eyes. "You think because I’m the maknae, I don’t have to try? That everything’s just handed to me? Because thats what you make it seem like..."
The guilt washed over you in waves. You had never imagined that your words would trigger something so deep, but now you could see just how much he had been holding in. Jeongin had always laughed off his role as the youngest, but now you realized it had weighed on him far more than you knew.
"Jeongin, that’s not what I think at all," you said, your voice trembling with regret, and your bottom lip turning downwards. "I didn’t mean to make it sound like that."
He clenched his fists, his expression a mix of frustration and sadness. "Do you know how hard it is to be seen as a kid all the time? No matter what I do, people look at me like I’m just the cute, young one. Like I can’t be serious, like I don’t work as hard as everyone else."
You could feel the pain behind his words, and it broke your heart. "I’m sorry," you whispered, stepping closer to him. "I didn’t know you felt this way."
Jeongin shook his head, stepping back as if he didn’t want you to get too close. "Of course you didn’t," he muttered bitterly. "Because I don’t talk about it. I don’t complain. I just...deal with it. And if it comes up I just laugh it off because I'm a kid. That's all my hyungs see and all the fans see and all you see."
He looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping. The silence between you felt heavy, and you didn’t know how to fix what you had unintentionally broken. You had hurt him, and you weren’t sure if he would let you in to make it right.
"Maybe I should go," Jeongin said suddenly, his voice cold and distant.
Panic rose in your chest- did you mess everything up? Did something you see as a small issue snowball into a major catalyst of your happiness? "No, wait-"
But before you could stop him, Jeongin grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. His retreating figure left you standing there, feeling helpless, your heart aching with guilt. You had never seen him like this - so vulnerable, so fragile. And it was your words that had caused those cracks to appear.
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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha
@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric
@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee
@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin
@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun
@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael
@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads
@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld
@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9
@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg
@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon
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batmanlovesnirvana · 2 days
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Money in massive amounts is never clean.
To amass a certain level of wealth, there’s inevitably a little blood on your hands. That's why I prefer the Wayne family with a touch of moral ambiguity—keeps things interesting.
Sure, we can say Thomas Wayne was a good guy (I mean, "good billionaire" sounds like an oxymoron, but I’ll let it slide since he's fictional). He’s a surgeon, sometimes a co-CEO, and in some versions, he even takes a shot at being mayor. But let's be real—his wealth didn’t come from rainbows and fairy dust.
No, the Wayne fortune wasn’t built on saving puppies and planting trees. Somewhere in the family history, there’s probably a dark corner filled with skeletons, or you know, a handful of emerald mines for exemple. I wouldn't be shocked if Thomas's great-great-grandfather named a labor camp after his wife—romantic, right? Sweet sentiment aside, you don’t just wake up one day swimming in billions without a few questionable "business decisions" sprinkled in.
Yeah, the Waynes are old money, but we’re talking about billions—like "richer-than-Queen-Elizabeth" money. Battinson alone is worth what, 9.2 billion? And in the comics? Bruce is probably a trillionaire, and that fortune didn’t just materialize from charitable bake sales.
You can’t convince me that all of the Wayne money is squeaky clean. Even if Bruce himself isn’t aware of it, some of that fortune likely came from, oh I don’t know, oil deals that were less "above board" and more "we took it from the Middle East." Because, like I said, you don’t build an empire like the Waynes’ without some shady dealings. Let’s face it, billionaires don't get to that level of wealth by being saints.
Now with the new Penguin series, we’re about to see how wealth is really made—without the rose-tinted glasses. Sure, Oswald Cobblepot is a mobster and criminal, but money is money. You can work hard, play by the rules, and become a millionaire—that’s fair, that’s normal. But billionaires? I guarantee you they’ve done worse than Penguin to reach their fortune.
Fictional or not, it makes for a more grounded and realistic Gotham and I do hope Reeves will explore this idea.
In Nolan’s trilogy, we had the shiny, perfect Thomas Wayne and his oh-so-virtuous family, but we never really dug into how the Waynes probably weren’t doing great things for, you know, the rest of the world.
In the Snyderverse, we got that backstory about the Waynes being hunters and building their fortune by selling furs to the French, if I remember right—but still. You don’t become that filthy rich by just selling that.
We always pin the morally questionable label on the Kanes or the Arkhams (Martha Wayne's family), but the Waynes? They’re consistently portrayed as Gotham’s golden dynasty.
Anyway, that’s my ramble for the day.
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carmenberzattosgf · 2 days
Note
You’ve mentioned this before but cockwarming is 10000% Carmy’s favourite physical thing to do. It can be a part of sex or just something on its own but either way it makes him feel safer than anything else. He literally never feels safer than when he’s just inside reader, it lulls him into this state of comfort that he’s never experienced before like the ceiling could fall in and he would barely notice. He asks for it whenever he’s particularly stressed and at first he feels bad and that’s selfish because he thinks reader isn’t getting anything out of it but after a while she can teach him that that’s not true. Bonus hc that sometimes during cockwarming he comes he can’t explain it and he always feels embarrassed but it happens
Cockwarming making Carmy feel safe is the perfect way to put it, actually.
You’re just so warm and snug around him. Seriously, he could have the worst day at work ever, but it would all be forgotten about the second you sit on his dick.
I think it becomes a routine in all honesty. Carmy comes home from work, gets showered, and you both snuggle up on the couch to watch some tv. More often than not it ends up with him inside of you.
The way he initiates it is always gentle, carefully pulling you into his lap so you can feel his hard-on through his shorts. “Can you, baby? Please?” His voice is soft in your ear.
“Mhm—of course,” you reply instantly, sitting up to push down your pants and underwear. Carmy holds you close as you straddle him, groaning into your lips when you sink down onto his cock.
His arms wrap around your body as soon as you bottom out. Carmy holds you like his life depends on it, keeping your skin flush with his own. Carefully, he shifts down so he can lean back against the arm of the couch, keeping you on top of him. He’ll rub at your back with his fingertips, relishing in your warmth all over him.
Carmy tends to feel bad about asking you to do this for him, because he doesn’t want to be a bother. He also doesn’t want you to think he just wants your body all the time. It takes a hot second to unwire his brain from thinking so negatively about it, and that you enjoy the comfort just as much as he does.
About your bonus thought… YES.
The first time it happens is after he’s been inside you for nearly an hour. Out of nowhere, a breathy, broken groan leaves his mouth while he has his face buried in the crook of your neck. Next, you feel the tell-tale warmness deep inside of you. A series of whimpers falls from his lips before he finally stills.
“Carm? You okay?” You ask with a gentle voice.
“Shit—s-sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to—“ His face is completely pink when he raises up from the crook of your neck.
“Hey, Bear. S’okay. You have nothing to apologize for—nothing at all.” You cup his face and bring him in for a deep kiss to stop him from trying to apologize again.
Once the kiss breaks, you settle back down on top of him, and he holds you even closer to try and prevent any of his cum from spilling out.
It’s safe to say you both fall asleep on the couch that night. At some point during the night, Carmy wakes up and reaches for the blanket that stays on the back of the couch, covering you and him up.
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ff-killjam · 3 days
Text
How The Tables Turned [Ford x reader oneshot]
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Summary: This time, its Ford making you stop what you're going to make sure you get sleep.
Rating: SFW and very fluffy
Warnings: Aside from a slightly suggestive part, none!
AO3 version
A/N: Actually based on a period of time where I tried to learn how to use unity (before the whole drama of it happened). I refused to do ANYTHING but to work on my little project no matter how much I was starving for a few weeks straight. lol.
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It’s basically routine at this point for you to drag Ford out of his lab to head for bed. Even if you remind him of the benefits on sleeping and how the lack of it will impact his work, you still needed to get him into bed, sometimes having some food ready for him to make sure he didn’t sleep on an empty stomach.
That’s how its USUALLY IS.
Lately, you’ve started your own personal project involving learning a game engine to play around with. It was mostly just a random idea one day, wanting to try your hand at making your own little “video game”. Nothing too fancy, just something fun to put together and to learn some new skills along the way. There was A LOT you needed to look into and learn to make this happen, however.
From learning a coding language, the game engine itself, a mix between finding free to use assets and even making your own when nothing suited your taste- you had a lot on your plate. It wasn’t all that bad really, considering how this whole thing turned into a full blown hyper fixation fairly soon after starting it. It was easy to let the hours fly by as you were split between watching tutorial videos, drawing and fixing any errors/bugs in any of the codes you wrote down. You were aware of when you needed to sleep, eat and do other things for your health, but something about working on this project made you refuse to move from your chair. And you weren’t the only one to noticed this.
After a decent amount of time being with you, Ford has grown used to the routine of you coming to his lab to check up on him. It got to the point where he purposely stayed late in the lab to get you to come in and “pester” him to take care of himself better. The feeling of knowing you cared and loved him so much to go out of your way to make sure he knew that was something he relished in. Of course, he did felt a little “silly” and “immature” doing this instead of straight up telling you, but there was no harm being done anyways, so it was fine.
So when you stopped checking on him after a few nights, he couldn’t help but to worry a bit. At first, he figured you were just a bit busy, possibly even out for the night, so he didn’t think too much of it. However, when walking into your computer room and seeing you up staring at your screen with an open notebook with various random things written on it, he couldn’t help to smile a bit as you reminded him of his university days. You were just working on something, nothing too bad.
But as time passed by, he soon realizes he only ever sees you in your computer room. You barely went out for anything, even for food. Ford didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he was worried. Things escalated for him when he barely sees you in bed anymore.
It’s not like he didn’t talk to you as you were deep in your work. He would sometimes check in on you when things felt a little too quite after he started to noticed your absent in his lab. Ford was happy you were able to pursue something new and to take the time and effort to do it. He was aware of the little game you wanted to make for the sake of saying “I made this!”. When he had the free time, he’ll listen to you talk about the things you learned, some of the issues you faced and how you fixed them, etc etc. But he can only take so much before he had to really step in for your own sake.
The sky was dark out, and it was around 1am. You weren’t in bed yet. Again. Ford was really concerned for you now. Walking through the dim hallway, he opens up the door of your computer room. He can see you fully concentrated on your screen, looking over some codes you put together, as if you were trying to find any errors in the lines of text that was presented in front of you. It was obvious how dry your eyes were, how your body longed for rest, but the urge to keep going and to fix this one mistake kept you from wanting to sleep despite how much you felt the need to do so.
It was almost funny to him. A taste of his own medicine some would say. It reminds him of the many nights on how he too would refuse to stop for the night, always needing to do one more thing before he could let himself rest. How you would do your best to persuade him to let himself walk away from his work, to take care of himself to avoid any health complications, and to spend time with you in the comfort of your bed.
It made him feel guilty as well. The things you did for him and how much you loved him to always go out of your way to show it. Ford knew he was taking full advantage of that, and he wanted to repay it back.
You jumped a little in your seat when you felt his familiar six finger hand land on your shoulder, being so focused on the lines of text on your screen that you forgot where you were for a good bit. You look over at Ford as he stood beside your seat, giving him a weak smile.
“Oh hey! Do you need anything?” You asked before quickly looking back at the screen again.
“Love, when was the last time you ate?” Ford asked you in a gentle voice.
“Uh… I had breakfast?” You answered, only remembering you had some toast with a sunny side egg on top when you last ate. It didn’t seem like it mattered too much though.
“Its almost one am” Ford replied, a little stern this time. You quickly check the clock on your taskbar, feeling surprised from how much time had passed.
“Oh… oops” you spoke mostly to yourself, feeling a little silly for not checking the time more often. “I’ll probably head to bed soon”
“Not soon,” Ford points out, “you’re going to bed now.” His words made you look at him again, confusion viable on your face.
“Just let me do this one fix-” Ford says your name, stern voice again, causing you to stop your sentence.
“You are fully aware of the effects of not taking care of yourself” Ford spoke to you with a smirk on his face. You knew that he was referencing the many of times where you brought out the facts of how the lack of sleep and self care can affect your health and day to day life. It was the best way to convince him to come to bed and let you cuddle with him until you were both asleep. “You’re no different form me, sweetheart. Got to practice what they preach, as they say”
“Uh…. I’m built different?” You gave a half shrug and a low chuckle at your own joke. Obviously, this did nothing to change his mind. You knew he was right, and had nothing to say to argue back. Ford knew this too. “Fine… let me quickly save and shut off my computer…”
Ford watches you quickly save any progress before shutting off your computer, the light of the screen turning off and making the room dark as it was the only thing on. As you start to stand, your body fully conveyed how tired you really were. You were about to walk to the hallway door before Ford lets out a ‘let me’, and you were now being picked up bridle style in his arms. You let out a small gasp, often forgetting how much muscle the older man has as he often hides it away in his iconic turtleneck. The comfort of him holding you made the realization at your own exhaustion hit hard. You can feel yourself somewhat go limp as Ford carried you to your shared room.
Ford felt you quickly relax in his arms, feeling prideful as he carried you to your bed. Sitting you on the side and pulling the blanket back. He lays you on your pillow before fallowing suit into his usual spot on the bed beside you. Your eyes were shut as you let yourself sink into the soft mattress, the weight of the blanket being pulled over you giving a sense of security, along with how his arms wrapped around you to pull you close to his chest. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, getting a few shivers down your spine.
“Sorry…” You mumbled to him, feeling guilty now for making him go out of his way to get you to bed. You feel him chuckle into your skin, the smile forming on his face being easily felt on your skin.
“Nothing to be sorry about sweetheart,” his replied, voice audibly sounding more tired, “I should be the one to apologize, making you go through this almost every night. I see how doing this almost all the time can be a bit frustrating for you.”
“Not if its you,” You were quickly to reply, “I’m always happy to make sure you’re okay”. Ford felt his heart flutter at your words. You always did surprised him with how much you loved him despite how many times you pointed it out.
“The feeling is mutual,” Ford placed a kiss on your skin as he caressed one of his thumbs that rested on you, “lets get to sleep now, I’ll be sure to do something for you in the morning” Ford gave another kiss on your skin, and you can’t help but to feel excited for what he had planned.
Silence followed as you two let yourselves slowly fall asleep in each others comfort. Feeling his steady heartbeat on your back lulled you to your sleep.
Ford smiled when he realized you fell asleep before he did. It was no surprise, you needed it really bad. Without fail every night when he has you in his arms like this, he feels like the luckiest man in the multiverse. He didn’t deserve you, but it was almost as if this is the repayment he deserved after many years of suffering, a way of life saying sorry to him.
And he wouldn’t ask for anything else.
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