#these are like the best things to come out of these games

[umamaki]

cw: lowk red flag caleb lol, virginity loss

Caleb is pissed when you get asked out for the first time. He had deliberately warned everyone in both of your social circles to stay away from you. Not without threats of violence or death, either. So yeah, he’s pissed as fuck when you tell him. Did he have to burn the whole world down merely to keep you all to himself? To protect you from perverts and creeps?

But, unfortunate and naive, you were so damn excited for this date. He couldn’t spoil your mood. Not when you asked him which dress to wear—both of them too short for his liking—and certainly not when you asked him to zip up the back for you.

There was just something about how you looked, all dolled up and cute to see someone who wasn’t him. He can already barely control himself around you; even the thought of another man having access to you like this makes him utterly sick. “It’s just not a good idea. All guys want the same thing.”

“You’re a guy aren’t you, Caleb? So what, are you telling me you’re like that too? Hmm?” He wants to wipe the playful smile off your face. You just think everything’s some fucking game.

“He’s gonna want to kiss you. Touch you. Fuck you. Have you ever been fucked? Huh, pipsqueak?”

He thinks he went too far then, notes the way your eyes widen and lips slightly part. You shake your head, but he already knows. He knows everything about you. So when you ask if he can help you, give you some advice, he knows exactly how he will.

“So naive, let me just show you.” He smashes his lips against yours. The force would’ve sent you falling backwards had he not steadied you with his hand on the small of your back.

“This is how to kiss…” he mutters it into your mouth, not caring that your teeth are hitting each other.

“And this…” he lifts your skirt just enough so that he can pull your panties to the side and slide his fingers along your puffy folds. “This is how it feels to be fingered.”

“Ah—Caleb!” You squeal when he fully plunges his finger in deeper than your own fingers ever could. He adds another, and soon the room is filled with your moans and the lewd squelch of his fingers thrusting in and out of your soaked pussy.

His lips are back on yours, and this time his tongue is shoved inside your mouth, claiming it. He goes faster when he feels your walls clench around him, and lets you grip his biceps while you come around his fingers and leave behind crescent shaped indents on his arms.

He nearly throws you on the bed, eager to yank off your underwear and free himself from his own boxers, wasting no time in aligning his tip to your still sensitive cunt.

“This is how to take it like a good fucking girl.” You try your best to relax, to be so good for him as he buries himself into you. He lets you get used to his size, going slow. Not moving until you practically beg him to, then there’s no going back. He’s brutally snapping his hips against yours and watching your tits bounce through your dress.

“Already gonna come on my cock? You really are inexperienced. Can’t even control yourself. Go on then. Fucking. Come.” With two last jerks of his hips, your climax washes over you and he tries so fucking hard to delay his own orgasm. He begins to pull out but your legs lock him in place. He cums on the spot—still inside you.

“Don’t care that I ruined your dress? How you gonna go on your date now, baby?”

“Hm. Guess I have to cancel,” you say, faux disappointment coating your words.

He pauses. “There was no date.”

“There was no date.” You confirm, wearing that same stupid grin from before. Luckily your schedule is free, because he has a hell of a punishment waiting for you after that.

[d1sc0rd1a]

ok this was originally in the tags but in the spirit of the post im coming out of hiding to share my view.

i was always the kid with the best hiding spot and no one could ever find me. theres a joy and a pride in it. its one of the things i liked most about myself as a kid. i really really tried to understand this post, because differing viewpoints are important to try to internalize. and to some degree i think i get it. i was/am constantly kinda lonely. i was/am constantly kinda guarded about how im perceived. i am vague. sometimes i lie. but i cant really wrap my head around most of this post. i dont truly grok it.

why do people get upset? everyone does it. thats how it works. everyone hides in both these games and in life. the fun comes in the searching. the joy comes in the accomplishment of successfully reaching out. when you pick a ridiculous spot to be found in youre setting up the punchline to a joke. whoever finds you gets to tell the story. even if someone is never found theres still a connection. Hiding and Seeking. theyre two sides of the same experience being shared. when the game is over the hider and the seeker both get to share what their part of the game was like. a bond is made. reinforced. to stop the search early is to break the bond. in a way its a rejection. it shows how little you care. i was the best seeker too, and i never got/dont get why nobody else ever tried.

sardines was fun too. its a good game, i really did like it. but i always pitied the person who found the group last. how sad to be so disconnected. to have your gameplay experience be fully isolated from the group. as soon as you successfully reach out the game is over. unless the final seeker is a pair of two or the single person is doing something ridiculous theres no punchline. the joke falls flat. there is suddenly no more story to tell. everybody was having fun without them and the fun ends when they show up. if somebody was consistently the last one to find the group of sardines it seemed almost like a sign they were the least in sync with the group. that everyone understood each other better than they did. how awful.

Goddamn. Okay

[covenofagatha]

The hustle

You and Agatha make a bet while playing pool - if you win, you get to try to make her orgasm without being touched

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: GP Agatha, cumming untouched, dirty talk, masturbation, daddy kink

“Remind me why we came here?” Agatha asks as she opens the door to Herb’s Grille and Bar and lets you walk in. The smell of cheap beer and wings hits your nose and you wrinkle it. It’s a dimly lit establishment with sticky floors and loud televisions showing every single sports game happening at the moment. 

You turn to face your girlfriend once she steps into the restaurant. “Where else would you have wanted to spend our date night?” 

Every Saturday, you and her alternate between picking a place to go out. After two years of your relationship, it’s a way to keep things spiced up. Sometimes you’ll meet her in a hotel lobby and pretend to be strangers, other times you’ll go pottery painting. Your absolute favorite date was one she planned where she took you to a restaurant overlooking the ocean to watch the sunset, and then went skinny-dipping in the water once the beach cleared out. 

You can still remember the way her pale skin glowed in the moonlight, the way she held you in her arms, her cock inside you, and just let the waves rock you back and forth slowly until you both came. 

So it’s safe to say that picking a bar like this is very out of the norm for date night. 

Agatha snorts. “If you waited until the last minute to plan something and this is the best you could come up with, we could’ve just had a movie night at home.” 

“Oh, baby,” you say, laughing at the little faith she has in you. “This—” you gesture at the rowdy football fans throwing their arms up at the television, the waitresses in small shorts carrying plates of fries and onion rings, the drunk men throwing darts in the corner, “—was not last minute planned. I’ve been wanting to come here for a while.”

“Why on earth would you want to come here?” she asks, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow at you. 

You shrug. “Why don’t we go to the bar and get a drink?” you suggest, completely ignoring her question with a coy smile. Her eyes narrow suspiciously, but she follows you as you begin to wade through the rows of packed tables. And then you stop and gasp, your hand flying to the side to hit Agatha’s arm. You point at the empty pool table in the back of the restaurant. “Do you want to play?” 

“Honey, have you ever played pool before?” Agatha asks, a hint of amusement in her tone. 

Sticking out your bottom lip in an overexaggerated pout, you beg with your eyes. “Will you teach me?” 

She can’t say no to you, so she sighs. “Why don’t you get us our drinks and I’ll go rack up and get the cues.” 

You beam and press a quick kiss to her cheek before rushing to the bar and ordering a rum and coke for Agatha, and a Dirty Shirley for you, before bringing them over to where your girlfriend is placing the pool balls in the triangle. You pick up one of the sticks that she picked out and stroke a hand up and down the smooth wood. 

“Baby,” Agatha says through gritted teeth and you look over at her innocently. Her hands have gripped onto the edge of the table and her knuckles are white. “Don’t give me that look, you know exactly what you’re doing.” 

Trying to fight the smirk growing on your face and failing, you give up on the pretense before tilting your head to the table. “So do I go first?” 

Agatha nods and you step up before bending over the table, stick in hand. You line up the tip with the cue ball and close an eye before Agatha interrupts you. 

“Honey, hang on. You need to fix your stance,” she says and you stand back up and look at her. 

“What?” you ask. “It feels fine to me.”

Your girlfriend tsks before stepping behind you and putting her hands on your waist. “Bend over,” she murmurs in your ear and goosebumps line the back of your neck. “Hold the cue how you just did.” 

Swallowing roughly, you resume your position and gasp slightly when she presses against you and puts her hands on top of yours to adjust your technique. Your stomach starts to grow warm.

It seems like you’re not the only one affected though — you can feel Agatha’s cock half-hard in her pants. Always one to tease, you push back slightly and sway your hips and her grip tightens on yours as she sharply inhales. 

“Like that?” you simper, immensely enjoying the way Agatha’s body has stiffened. 

“Take the shot,” she orders gruffly and you chuckle before swinging your arms back and then forward, the 8-ball hitting the triangle and sending the balls scattering with a thunk. 

A striped red one goes into the pocket and you line up to take another shot, but completely whiff. You see Agatha biting back a smile. 

She sinks four balls during her turn and you miss completely. Two more for Agatha, and you do a little victory dance when you finally get one. 

“I like it better when you go inside my hole,” you say right as she’s lining up to take her shot and she misses, the cue ball hitting the edge of the table. When she stands back up and turns to you, her face is slightly red and the knowledge that your dirty, juvenile joke has that much effect on her settles straight in your cunt. 

But any triumph you had is gone when you miss again, and then she perfectly hits her last ball and the 8-ball in, almost completely sweeping. 

“Can we play again?” you ask and Agatha gives you a strange look. Usually when you lose that badly in any other game, you immediately want to do something else. You’re a bit of a sore loser and Agatha loves to tease you for it. “Please? Let’s make a bet.” 

She studies your face to see what you’re doing. “Okay,” she agrees slowly, still unsure of your ulterior motives. “If I win, we never go to another bar on date night.” 

You hold out your hand. “Deal. And if I win, you have to go along with whatever I say tonight.” 

Her lips part ever the slightest and her eyes darken. “Oh, okay, honey. If you win, you’re in charge.” It’s clear from her sarcastic tone that she doesn’t expect that to happen at all, but she shakes your hand anyway and you can’t help the thrill that runs through you. 

Agatha re-racks the balls and motions for you to break them again. You lean over the table and hit the 8-ball hard. A solid ball goes into the pocket and you sink the next three shots you make. 

When you finally miss, you look at Agatha, whose jaw has dropped wide open. You wink and she flushes before taking a shot. 

She misses. 

You cluck your tongue and purposely brush past her front on your way to get to the cue ball harder than you have to just to rub your ass against her cock before hitting the rest of the solid balls into the pockets. And then you get the 8-ball as well. 

“How did you—” Agatha starts, completely flustered, trying to wrap her head around how you just did that. 

Grinning, you tell her, “I used to play pool all the time in college.” 

Realization dawns on her and she chuckles humorlessly while shaking her head. “So you hustled me.” 

You wave a hand dismissively. “Eh, semantics. The point is, we made a bet. And I just won.” 

“That you did, honey. What do you have in store for me tonight?” she asks, not seeming too upset about the loss. She knows that this is really her win as much as it is yours.

Your eyes gleam. “I want to make you cum,” you say, and before she can retort that you always do, you add on: “without you being touched.”

Agatha swallows and you can see the wheels in her head spinning as her breathing starts to quicken. “You little minx,” she growls and you can see her cock, now a little more than half-hard, bulging in her pants. You giggle gleefully. 

It’s something that’s been on your mind for a while now. There was one night you had been teasing her while straddling her lap and she had been a squirming mess beneath you, and when you finally got your mouth around her, it took her about forty-five seconds before she came all over your face. 

She had been so embarrassed, but you had found it so fucking hot, knowing that you could make her that worked up that she couldn’t even last a minute. And then you started wondering if you could get her so worked up that she could cum without anything. 

The thought had driven you to orgasm quite a few times since that night. You weren’t sure if she would try it just if you asked, so you had to get a little creative. 

And she had taken the bait, every step of the way. It wasn’t often you got to pull one over on your girlfriend like this, and you’re absolutely going to revel in it. 

“Should we go home, daddy?” you ask, voice as sweet and pure as you can make it, and Agatha’s look is vicious. You know she’s going to make you pay for this little stunt, probably with a spanking and maybe orgasm denial, but it’s going to be so worth it. 

Agatha takes a deep breath before downing the rest of her drink in one gulp and then grabs onto your bicep to lead you out of the bar. 

Your hand creeps into her lap the moment she puts her car into reverse to back out of the parking spot and she hisses before slamming on the brakes. 

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” you say in awe. Her cock is completely straining against her jeans and you can feel the heat radiating through them. You flatten your palm and begin to rub and her fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “Someone’s more excited than they’re letting on,” you remark and enjoy the way the vein in her forehead throbs. 

“It’s going to be your fault if I crash and kill us both,” she says through clenched teeth. “Thought the whole point was you weren’t going to touch me.” 

You hum thoughtfully. “Good point.” You remove your hand and she lets out a sigh of relief so she can focus on driving — as much as she can, with how turned on she is — and you angle your right foot up on the seat so your knee rests on the car door and your skirt rides up. You drag your fingertips against your exposed thigh, heat following in its wake, and you can feel how wet you’ve become. 

Agatha doesn’t notice at first when you slip a hand between your open legs to tease yourself over your underwear, but when she does happen to glance over, she lets out a small whimper. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, trying to sound rough, but failing. It sounds like she’s in pain, and based on how hard she is, you think she might be. 

You press on your clit and gasp. “I said I wasn’t going to touch you. I never said anything about touching myself.” 

Her tongue traces its way across her mouth and she tries to focus on the road, but when you move your panties to the side and stroke through your folds, she can’t help but sneak little peeks down at your pussy. 

“I can fucking hear you,” she breathes like she can’t even believe it, like the thought is driving her absolutely wild. 

She turns down the radio and the squelching sounds of your wetness fills the car. You’re surprised she hasn’t swerved or hit something yet, with how often she looks over. 

And then you push a finger inside yourself and you gasp, hips bucking, and she whimpers. You almost want to say fuck it and just bend over and suck her off, but you hold fast to your plan. 

“Daddy, fuck,” you whine pathetically and the muscle in her cheek twitches. Her cock is so hard you can see the outline of her vein through her pants. She starts to slowly grind up so her cock rubs against the denim fabric and you wonder if she’s getting any satisfaction from it. 

You slide another finger into your cunt easily, curling them knuckle-deep, and your head falls back against the headrest as your back arches. 

“Baby, god, you are so hot,” Agatha gasps pathetically. You’re so fucking addicted to her desperation, the high it gives you is almost orgasmic, and you start to fuck yourself roughly. Your walls squeeze around your own fingers and you wish that her cock was inside you more than anything. 

Your girlfriend is thinking the same thing, if the small noises spilling out of her mouth is any indication. The car speeds up erratically and it’s only five more minutes before she pulls into the driveway. The tension has been building in your stomach and you’re almost sad you didn’t get to make yourself cum. 

There’s no telling how crazy that would’ve made Agatha. 

“In the house, now,” she barks and you have to bite back a laugh. You’re the one who’s supposed to be in charge tonight, and here she is, ordering you around so you can get her off. 

You let it slide because you’re just as eager for this as she is. 

She speed-walks to the front door to unlock it and then you take the lead and drag her upstairs to your bedroom by the hand. She groans when she feels how wet your fingers are.  

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed,” you say, sparks of heat lighting up all throughout your body as she listens immediately. 

When Agatha shoves her jeans and underwear down, her cock springs out and both of you gasp; her, from the semblance of relief she gets, and you, from how it looks. 

Her cock looks like it’s straining against itself: it’s swollen and the veins are taunt, redder than it's ever been, and leaking a copious amount. She humps the air involuntarily and gutturally groans. The top of her breasts all the way up to her cheeks is stained pink and her chest heaves, the look in her eyes that of a feral woman. 

“Fuck — you’re so…” You don’t even have the words to describe how turned on she is. You haven’t even teased her that much either. Not enough to warrant this state, anyway. 

Agatha shakily lowers herself onto the bed and leans back against the pillows so she can look at you, her cock pointing straight up to the ceiling. “You get daddy so worked up, baby,” she rasps and you clench around nothing at the desire in her voice. There is no doubt in your mind that you’ll be able to get her to cum untouched. The only question is how long it will take. 

You toy with the hem of your shirt, sensually dragging it up your stomach and then back down until Agatha’s teeth are clenched so tightly you think she might snap. 

“Take it off,” she grits, an urgency in her voice that you haven’t heard before. You smirk and peel it off and Agatha’s hips jump when she takes in your purple bra that pushes your breasts together. “Fuck,” she says under her breath and another dollop of liquid drips down her cock from the tip. 

Sliding off your skirt, your head spins when she makes a muffled groan that sounds like she’s been injured. You have never felt hotter in your life than when you’re with Agatha. And then you take off your underwear and hold them up to the light so she can see how drenched they are. 

The muscles in her stomach flex and her fingers dig into the duvet. “Jesus Christ,” she mumbles, sounding distant. 

Now fully naked, you climb on the bed and lie opposite from her, propping yourself up with one hand and spreading your legs so that she can see your glistening center. Agatha makes another sound and you watch her cock bob up and down on its own. 

You suck two fingers into your mouth, the same fingers that were inside you on the car ride, and give her the same look you do as when her cock is in your mouth. 

Her lips part and her tongue darts out, her breathing becoming shallower. You pull your fingers out of your mouth with a wet pop and trail them down your face and neck, across your collarbone, and down to pinch your nipples. 

Agatha recognizes it as the same path she usually takes with her tongue when she’s working her way down your body and her hips start to grind slowly. Her cock leaks even more as you watch her throb and it makes even more heat blast through you. 

“Fuck, daddy, you make me feel so good,” you say and her breath catches in her throat. Your hand skims across your stomach and then teases your folds and you moan, which makes Agatha moan, too. “I love it when you go down on me and you let me ride your face. I love it when you fill me with your cock—” You slide two fingers inside and cut yourself off with a gasp. 

Your girlfriend’s hands are twitching like she can’t decide whether she wants to touch you or her cock, which has somehow gotten even harder. She is steadily rolling her hips now, desperate for any stimulation. 

“Honey — honey, please,” she begs, her voice thick and deep and it does almost as much to you as curling your fingers and pressing against your g-spot does. You’re not going to last long either. “Daddy needs you, please.” 

You almost give in. It would be so easy to take her cock down your throat or to straddle her and feel her in your pussy — either way, you think she would cum immediately. 

But she looks so pretty like this, cheeks flushed and sweaty, furiously grinding against absolutely nothing, her cock pulsing and dripping. “Sorry, daddy,” you say with a wink and you watch her head drop back against the headboard. “I love seeing you like this. So desperate for me, about to cum without being touched at all, just for me.” 

Agatha swears, her body stiffening and you think she’s going to cum right now, but to her credit, she relaxes a little and doesn’t. You’re almost impressed. “Daddy is going to punish you for this, you know,” she says with very little conviction. “Gonna tie you up and leave a vibrator in you and we’ll see how many times you cum before you physically can’t take anymore.” 

Your breath hitches and your palm bumps against your clit roughly. The tension from the car is building back in your lower stomach, pleasure coursing through your veins. It’s not as good as when Agatha touches you, but it’s a close second. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Agatha babbles like she can’t take it anymore. “I need you so bad, honey. I’m fucking — I’m fucking aching for you.” You almost make a joke about how you can tell, but think better of it. “You drive me crazy, please, I need you, need to feel your hot pussy wrapped around my cock, fuck—“ 

Her knees lock and her feet flex and her cock pulses and your fingers still inside you to watch in awe. Agatha’s breathing gets tighter before she sucks in deeply — her hips lurch up and her legs start to spread out and up — she lets out a loud, high-pitched keen and her cock erupts, cum spurting up in the air and landing on her stomach. 

Agatha’s hands scramble for purchase on the duvet as she frantically humps the air and keeps gasping, her cock pumping out a few more cascades of cum all over her. 

You didn’t think that would be so hot and you press the palm of your hand against your clit and you spasm, an orgasm tearing through your own body. You ride it out, beginning to move your fingers again to prolong the pleasure. 

She lays there limply, just watching with glazed eyes and an open mouth, her cock twitching every so often as it softens. 

When you finally come down, you can’t help but laugh and Agatha looks at you like you’re crazy. She still hasn’t moved. 

“Fuck, that was so hot,” you exclaim and Agatha snorts before finally rubbing her face with a hand. 

“I think you just killed me, sweetheart,” she says matter-of-factly and you smirk despite yourself. 

She looks absolutely wiped. “So you don’t want to do it again?” you ask and the look she gives you is lethal. But you see a hint of heat in her eyes, and you know that this won’t be the last time you get to make her cum like that. 

Agatha goes to move but looks down at the mess on her stomach. “Why don’t you come clean this up for me, honey?” she suggests and another blast of heat runs through you. 

You get on your knees and crawl the foot or so to her before swiping your fingers through the puddle of cum and enveloping them in your mouth and moaning at her taste. She watches you with dark eyes as you then bend down and run your tongue over her belly, her muscles tensing and her cock stirring. 

“Good girl,” she murmurs and the praise goes straight to your still-wet cunt. She tugs on your hair and pulls you up to kiss you, stroking her tongue inside your mouth to taste herself. 

When you finally pull back to breathe, you smile despite yourself at how perfect and completely ruined she looks right now. “Not a bad date night, hm?” you ask, giggling and raising an eyebrow teasingly. 

Agatha rolls her eyes playfully. “Not quite what I had in mind, but I do like where it ended up.” 

You flop onto the bed next to her and she puts an arm around you so you can tuck yourself into her side. “Good luck topping that next week,” you challenge, eyes flicking up to meet hers. She smirks and reaches over to pinch your nipple. 

“I’m sure I’ll find a way.” 

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Can we get more hurt reader for Quinn to care for pretty please with 🍒s ontop?

I think it's about time I get the reader to a game, don't you?

Nothing could beat the energy of a sold out Canucks game.

Tonight was poised to be a tight game against the Atlantic Division's Toronto Maple Leafs and the hometown boys. You had made the plans weeks ago to attend the game, but none of your friends were available to go, so you were going solo. It hadn't been the first time sitting with no one to talk to in the stands, as there was always someone to strike up a conversation with, argue a wrong call over, or heckle one of the visiting players with. You wouldn't be without company that night.

Things had started off fast paced, with Quinn scoring the first puck mid-way through the opening period. It was always special getting to see him score in person, hearing the fans cheer for their beloved captain, and also with you being able to join them as just another fan. No one knew who you were; best as anyone else knew, you were just another girl in a Quinn Hughes jersey, and that was enough.

The players would take their positions back at center ice and Vancouver would lose the faceoff, and play would move into the Canucks' territory. Defensively, they seemed to be struggling to get a turnover and multiple shots would be deflected by Demko before the puck would get back to the neutral zone. However, it would get tipped and go up and out of play, with Toronto trying to return back to the offensive zone. You had been guilty of watching Quinn instead of where the puck was and that would be your downfall that night.

At first, you thought the guy sitting next to you had clocked you in the side of the head by accident. It wasn't after you heard a kid yell, "Get it! Get the puck! I want it!" that you were able to discern that you had missed the rogue puck sailing towards you and that had been what had your head spinning. That was your last, straightforward thought.

The rows behind you, who had seen the contact be made, gasped collectively and several reacted around you to make sure you were alright. Your ears were ringing, and you weren't quite sure where you were as you slumped forward and to the side, nearly slipping out of your seat. Everything was getting hazy and your vision was fading out. Your head had never hurt so bad in your life.

"Yeah, I need medical to section 116", you heard the usher radio in, your eyes slowly opening. Everything was too bright, too loud, and you were dizzy. There was a towel placed to the left side of your head and the throbbing felt like someone was hitting you with a hammer repeatedly. "Ma'am, try to stay still, please. We're going to get someone to help you."

You gritted your teeth against the sound of the packed arena and how it aggravated your brain, and you had to keep your eyes closed against the harsh lights above. All you wanted to do was slip away into sleep.

"We're going to help you up, okay? Are you good to stand?" A woman's voice asked you, feeling gentle pressure to your upper right arm. Slowly, you'd turn your face towards her and nod. "Okay, gently now. Go slow for me, okay? We're going to make sure you don't fall. "

You bit your lip as you made your way to the aisle, still holding the towel to your face. "Still doing alright?" She asked again once you were up and out of the seats. After you nodded, she'd change her hold to your left arm and slowly, you'd be escorted up the stairs as clapping would follow you as a sendoff.

"We have an ambulance coming around to take you to the hospital and get you checked out."

You couldn't focus on anything and just kind of mumbled at whatever it was she was saying, and since she and no one else around was frantic, you remained calm despite being told you were going to the hospital in an ambulance. Sure enough, you'd be strapped to the stretcher in the lobby, a neck brace fastened in place, and wheeled into the awaiting transport out front. Everyone was so kind to you, but there was one person you couldn't get off your mind. You hoped Quinn hadn't noticed it was you who had been hit by the puck, but if he had, you wished it wouldn't interfere with his playing for the remainder of the game.

- - -

It would be after the game clock ran out before you'd be done with your visit at the hospital.

You had a series of stitches above your left eye and a concussion, but otherwise you were fine. The Canucks had won the game which was a relief to you, because what kind of fan would you had been if you didn't feel like whatever you did --or had caused-- had directly affected the game? Wore the wrong jersey and they lost? Your fault. Changed your order from your usual pre-game selection and they lost? Also your fault, and yours alone. That was just the overly superstitious sports fan brain at work.

Once cleared to leave, you had called a girlfriend and told her what had happened and if she could take you back to Quinn's apartment. She had offered to stay with you until he came back, but you had managed to convince her that you wouldn't have to wait for too long before he was home. There was reluctance to leave you, after saying you had sustained a concussion, but you had apparently been persuasive enough and she would leave shortly after getting you settled on the sofa.

You were thankful for the darkness and the silence of his apartment. The hospital had been busy and terribly bright, so just a smaller arena atmosphere, and you had suffered for hours before finally getting to actually relax. Your phone was next to you but looking at the screen, even with the brightness down, shot through your head like a bullet. The light sensitivity had been incredible, yet you were told it was common and nothing to worry about. You wanted to message Quinn, but typing was impossible, so a voice-to-text message would have to do the trick.

Y|N: Hey baby I'm okay. Just got home from the hospital. If you didn't know I'm the girl who tried to catch the puck with her face. Ha ha, lucky me. Anyway, I just wanted you to know I'm fine. Love you. (11:55pm)

Quinn: I was hoping that wasn't you. :( I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm glad you're okay. I'll be home shortly. I love you more. (12:09am)

When Quinn got home you were still sitting on the sofa, an ice pack pressed against your browbone where the new stitches were. The lights in the kitchen were dimmed, as you had gotten up shortly after his text message and turned them on, so he wouldn't come home to a pitch black apartment. You didn't want to scare him by being a creep in the dark, just waiting for him to get in.

"Hey Quinny," you said, half asleep and leaning against the corner of the sectional.

"Hey," Quinn replied, voice soft and low as he wasted no time getting to your side. "How are you feeling?"

He'd sit down beside you and try to see just what had happened. You'd drop the ice pack to you lap, fingers cold after having to hold it for so long. "I'm tired."

Quinn frowned, tipping your chin to the side just slightly, "Looks like it got you pretty good, babe."

"Yeah, I was watching you...so I didn't see it coming," you breathed out ashamed.

"Now, what would you do that for?" He laughed, hoping to raise your spirits. "I didn't see it happen."

"I'm glad you didn't," you mumbled, returning the ice to your face, feeling it throb again. "I got blood all over my jersey, too."

He gave a weak smile, hoping you were trying to be sarcastically upset, seeing the stains for himself. "I'll get you a new one. I'm just glad you're okay. It could have been a lot worse." His voice was near a whisper at the end.

"I don't want a new jersey! That one is special, don't you remember?" You cried out with emotional hurt, growing more upset thinking about how quickly the night had spiraled.

"Oh, right, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said trying to keep you calm. "It's been a long time since that date, babe. I'm sorry I forgot it was (that) one. I'll take it with me and see if one of the equipment guys can clean it for me, okay? We'll get it taken care of. Now, can I get you anything?'

You just shook your head.

"Why don't you go lay down? You've had a long day."

You wouldn't say anything to him, but instead, would get up and try to walk past him but he would stop you. His arm would block your path, his hand gripping your thigh gently. The way he looked at you conveyed his concern, while his words remained minimal. "What's wrong, babe?"

"Nothing," you replied flatly, wishing he'd let you pass.

Your response prompted him to stand up. Now you wouldn't be going anywhere until he felt better about your situation. "Will you talk to me?"

"I don't want to talk, Quinn," you grumbled, your head pounding harder now that you weren't at rest.

Without a word, Quinn brought you into his arms. He knew how concussions could affect a person, how they could make you irritable and emotional out of nowhere. All he hoped was that a quiet moment would calm you down. He wasn't upset with you and your sudden attitude change; he knew how being hit with pucks felt and you hadn't been wearing the gear like he did. Not to mention you had been hit in the face.

"You're okay, baby. You just need to rest. I wasn't trying to order you around. And I'm sorry about the jersey thing."

Out of habit, you'd lay your head against him, but it would be those tender stitches that would make contact with his shoulder, causing you to pull back in pain.

"Ouch!" You hissed, fingers shielding the area.

"Careful, careful," he soothed, taking your face in his hands. When your hand fell away to your side, Quinn placed the most delicate kiss to your forehead, just above where your skin was split. His softness made your eyes close. You felt so touch starved all of a sudden, like you wanted to beg him for more. How had one kiss melted your sour mood away like that? You'd stand there like a statue, eyes still closed, feeling his warm hands cup your face.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked, having expected a different reaction from you.

"No," you replied, opening your eyes to his face, "that just felt so nice."

Quinn would smile, relieved that you finally had one moment of comfort against everything else that had happened that night. He'd take all of your pain away from you if he knew how. If little angel kisses made you better, he'd take as much time as was needed to pepper ever inch of your skin with them.

"How about I get you ready for bed and make sure you get to sleep, hm?

"I can do it."

Quinn's thumbs caressed your cheeks, while he still remained holding your face, "Let me help you. I promise to be gentle."

Your eyes softened when you gave him an affirming nod. You hadn't wanted to bother him with anything after a game, but he was insisting and who were you to deny him wanting to do such sweet things for you?

"Come on, princess. Let's get this done so you can get some sleep."

His hands would fall from your face, to take one of yours and lead you down the hallway. Quinn's pace was slow and cautions even though there was nothing wrong with your ability to walk; he would never rush you a single step.

"I'm only going to turn on the vanity lights, okay? They shouldn't be as bright."

"Okay."

The Edison bulbs came to a glow over the mirror, casting a soft, golden hue to the bathroom. Your head felt plagued by the worst migraine you could remember, but you'd struggle through while Quinn did whatever he had in mind for you. He'd have you put your back to the counter and would lift you up, so you were sitting slightly above his eye level; your feet kicking gently as they dangled in front of the numerous drawers.

"What do I need to take your makeup off, baby?" He asked, hands resting on either side of your thighs.

"In the basket, under the sink, there is a pink package of wipes. Those are fine. The Micellar ones."

"Under the sink, okay," he said softly to himself, giving your leg a tap before looking under his sink for this particular basket, and sure enough, like you had said, he was able to find them. "Just one?"

"Mhm, just one," you said, hand out-stretched for the product but he wouldn't hand them over.

"No, sweetheart, I said I'd do this for you," he smiled, removing one of the large sheets. "Just tell me if I do something wrong."

His touch was so delicate as he worked around your eyes, paying special attention not to graze your stitches. The nurses had washed most of your face of blood and some makeup at the hospital, but you were happy to let Quinn finish the rest. He pressed the cloth to your eyelashes for a couple seconds before pulling away the difficult product from them. Had he been paying attention to you all this time? He seemed confident in his approach and you appreciated the caution he implied.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to do them right now," you told him, finally opening your eyes once he was done.

Quinn wondered if he had done something wrong to make you not want anything more from him, "Like what?"

"There's a whole routine, but I don't care enough right now. My head hurts," you said, frustrated, tossing the melting ice pack in the sink.

"Alright, sweetheart, it's whatever you want." He pressed forward for a kiss which you would give before Quinn would get you down off the counter. For some reason, each step you took felt like it rippled through your feet straight to your pounding skull. Thankfully his bed wasn't too far away now.

"I should have carried you," Quinn lamented, only after having you sit on the bed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. My legs work."

"I know they do, but anything to make things easier on you," he whispered, hands finding their place on your legs again. "Let's get you out of these clothes, okay?"

- - -

"I'll join you in a little bit. I'm going to put this in my backpack," he said, carefully folding the jersey. "But I've gotta get something to eat. I'm a little dizzy myself."

From the bed he had you carefully tucked into, you frowned hearing that he wasn't feeling to good himself. Now, you wanted to be the one to help him, but you knew there was no way that he was going to approve of you being out of bed, especially to wait on him.

"Have you had anything to eat today?" He asked you before fully leaving the room.

"I had something at noon."

"That's it?"

"Mhm, but I don't want anything. This headache kind of has me nauseous," you confessed, pulling the blankets up closer to your face.

You could faintly see him frown at your admission. "I can make you some tea. Would you like that?"

Smiling through the pain you'd nod, "Yes, please."

Unfortunately, you'd fall asleep before he could get back to you with the tea. He'd put it down on your nightstand and look at you for a moment. His lamp was still on so he could see you fully. You looked so delicate laying there aside from the deep bruising becoming more evident under your skin. He was so thankful you were okay, but vowed the next time you went to see him play, you'd be safely in a seat behind the net. He couldn't stand seeing you hurt like this again. Not if he could do anything about it.

[dpspcehntr]

Hello! I saw that your ask box is open and that you write NSFW. May I request you write about them (headcanons or an imagine, whichever you prefer) trying to find the quiet!reader's* most sensitive spot?

*= quiet, as in, one of the reader's characteristics is being quiet. it doesn't have to do anything with the mouth being covered up lol

Thank you!

Oooooooooo this is interesting! I’ll give it my best shot! I'll just to headcanons for now but do come back inf you want longer write ups!

My ask box is officially back open! Send in your requests, thoughts, and head cannons and I might write a little something for you! Please read the rules first!

Warnings: suggestive content (things are mentioned but nothing is described)

Zayne

Is also pretty quiet

Does find some pleasure in finding ways to get you to vocalize but it is not a priority for him

With his surgeon like precision he finds your sweet spot every time

Because you both are so busy and often have to be quick, your quiet nature helps you both to be able to enjoy yourself without much worry (his office has seen it all)

Xavier

Surprisingly he is pretty vocal and sometimes would like you to be the same

He makes a game out of it, finding your sweet spot then getting you to vocalize

He takes it very seriously and will keep things going until you do (I'm taking hours long sessions)

Once you do vocalize he showers you in kisses and praise before trying again

Rafayel

Makes a point to make you vocalize as much as possible

Finds your sweet spot with ease each time just to hear you

Lots of praise when you do become more vocal

He himself is so loud and he just wants you to do the same

Sylus

He doesn't even have to try to find your sweet spot he just knows

Doesn't mind that you're on the quieter side

He does however get really turned on when you do make noise (but will never admit it)

Kisses you right before climax so you have no choice but to moan in his mouth (much to his delight)

[potatodemon-beesensible]

Oml da boi :(

One does not simply inflict cwassonts on Siffrin in such a way. And the banana’s a very nice reference. Cool detail. Very dark when you think into it beyond “Ayo it’s the death banana.”

Originally there was a lotta “Oml poor bebe 🥺” as that’s how I feel about any cute drawing. But I made some jokes I figured were a bit… eh. I can write these like I’m projecting my thoughts into the void when in reality it’s like… tumblr. So I scrapped it and summed it up here. Isat’s a dark game at times and I cope with things by joking. Some things are best said with friends.

Now I wanna look for art on some of the banana death screens… “You’re a living comedy sketch” hits the first time. And after a bit when Siffrin’s dissociative barriers start breaking it just becomes “You split your head open on a rock”. Which is… yeah that got me.

Actually never got people who joked about things to the extent of like… completely disregarding them. I don’t mean in the joke itself… but like what they’re joking about genuinely doesn’t matter to them. With me… when I joke about something darker it’s because I *do* care about it. And in a way I’m paying my respects in referencing it. Even without the vulnerability… even without it being obvious… and even with it making me come off as questionable to some people. I’m like this in public anyway. Not nearly as much online. And if I am like that in public it’s when I’m absolutely drained and cannot physically be bothered with my mind atm. Otherwise I’m not really like that. But when I am it’s to separate myself from the situation and not be vulnerable… and maybe get a reaction too as that gives me energy. Though I don’t go out of my way to do that… just a tendency. You can actually tell if I like being around someone pretty easily just from how much less unpredictable and talkative I can come off as. I’m comfortable around them and I’m cool just being tired. Don’t feel the need to say something out of pocket to get people going and I just vibe. I like being silent around someone I like. It’s pleasant. Treat those I’m neutral with with respect even though I can get a bit of a high getting a laugh or a questioning look from them. Those I’m disgusted by (otherwise known as jerks who like dehumanizing or degrading others) with severe annoyance, doing everything I can to avoid them. And those I’m genuinely comfy with with care and tenderness. Kinda just how I approach things. Also I like talking to myself. And I like talking about myself. Myself is dope.

Don't bully me.

Oh crab

I added something I forgot to draw.

[rose24207]

An angel

Summary: guilt eats Lando alive when he wants to come clean to you after dating you for a bet. What he didn’t expect was that you would be so understanding and calm about it.

Genre: angst, fluff

Lando x f!reader

TW: Carlos and max being assholes (sryy), Lando too

A/N: I genuinely think that I would also react like this and I think that’s pretty much sums up the person I am :(

Masterlist pt. 2

It was supposed to be a joke. That’s what Lando told himself when it all started. A stupid, harmless joke that spiraled so far out of control, he found himself falling in love with you—only to be crushed by the weight of his own lie.

The bet was Carlos’ idea, though Max quickly joined in. They were sitting together at a bar in Monaco after a long day of training, laughing and teasing each other like they always did. That’s when you walked in, a vision of effortless beauty, with a smile so captivating even the loud music seemed to fade into the background.

Carlos noticed the way Lando’s gaze lingered on you. “You’re staring, mate,” he teased, nudging him.

Max smirked. “Bet you couldn’t get her number.”

Lando rolled his eyes, feigning indifference. “Easy.”

But Carlos upped the stakes. “Forget her number—bet you can’t get her to date you. Three months, minimum. Make her fall for you.”

Lando hesitated, but Max chimed in, grinning. “If you win, we’ll cover your next holiday. Private jet, five-star everything.”

Fueled by bravado, ego, and the lingering effects of too many drinks, Lando shook their hands, sealing the deal.

The plan was simple: charm you, date you for a while, and win the bet. But nothing about you was simple.

When he approached you that night, he expected the same predictable reactions he always got—flustered stammering or overly enthusiastic flirting. Instead, you met him with warmth and genuine curiosity, treating him like a regular guy rather than the celebrity everyone else saw.

He was hooked.

Every date with you felt like uncharted territory. You laughed at his dumb jokes, shared your dreams with him, and listened intently as he opened up about his fears and insecurities. For the first time in his life, Lando felt truly seen.

What started as a game quickly became the most important thing in his life. But the secret of how it began loomed over him, a constant reminder of his betrayal. He told himself he’d find the right time to come clean, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.

And now, three months in, he was drowning in guilt.

It was a quiet evening in his Monaco apartment. You were curled up on the couch, flipping through a magazine while he paced nervously in the kitchen. He had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in his head, but every scenario ended with you walking out the door.

“Y/N?” he called softly, his voice trembling.

You looked up, immediately sensing the tension. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we talk?” he asked, his hands fidgeting.

You set the magazine aside, concern etching your features. “Of course. What’s going on?”

He sat down across from you, his heart pounding. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

Your brows furrowed. “Okay…”

Lando took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you remember the night we met? At the bar?”

You nodded. “Of course. Why?”

“There’s… something I didn’t tell you about that night.” He hesitated, his stomach churning. “Carlos and Max… they made a bet with me. They bet I couldn’t get you to date me for three months. And I…” He swallowed hard, his eyes welling up. “I took the bet.”

Your expression froze, the weight of his words sinking in. “A bet?”

He nodded, his voice breaking. “At first, it was just stupid. I didn’t think it would matter. But then I got to know you, and everything changed. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. I swear, this—us—became real so quickly. But I lied to you, and I hate myself for it.”

Silence filled the room as you processed his confession. He braced himself for the anger, the heartbreak, the inevitable goodbye.

But what came next surprised him.

You reached out, taking his trembling hands in yours. “Lando,” you began gently, your voice calm but steady. “Thank you for telling me.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re not… angry?”

“I won’t lie,” you admitted. “It hurts to know how it started. But what matters more to me is that you told me the truth. You didn’t let me find out from someone else, and I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Tears spilled down his cheeks as he shook his head. “It wasn’t. I’ve been so scared of losing you, Y/N. You’re everything to me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I had to tell you. You deserve better than this.”

You squeezed his hands, your own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Lando, everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you do after. You could’ve kept lying, but you didn’t. You chose honesty, even though it scared you. That says a lot.”

“I love you,” he choked out, his voice raw. “I love you so much. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll let me.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you cupped his cheek, wiping away his tears. “I love you too. And I believe you. I believe in us.”

His breath hitched as he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like you were his lifeline. “You’re an angel,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re too good for me.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I’m not an angel, Lando. I’m just someone who loves you enough to see the good in you, even when you make mistakes.”

From that moment on, things changed. Lando became a man on a mission, determined to show you how much he valued you. He went out of his way to make you feel loved and appreciated—surprising you with thoughtful gestures, supporting your dreams, and being more open and vulnerable than ever before.

The guilt still lingered, but your forgiveness gave him the strength to move forward. And as time passed, the scars of the bet faded, replaced by a love that was stronger than ever.

Because at the end of the day, love wasn’t about never making mistakes. It was about owning up to them, learning from them, and choosing each other—no matter what.

And as Lando held you close that night, he silently vowed to never take your love for granted again. You weren’t just the best thing that had ever happened to him—you were his everything.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris

[shirakow]

❝ 𝓗.OME SWEET HOME ! ”

caleb x fem!reader / love and deepspace .

warning(s) include: SPOILER WARNING, nsfw content, hair pulling, porn with no plot, refers to readers vagina as ‘her’, and kinda sad? idk i randomly put sad parts bc i remembered his painful signal card

note: it’s been so long since I posted and I gotta say i rlly love caleb so ofc i had to post abt him. originally i played the game bc i wanted to make my mc cute but then i saw caleb and i kinda forgot abt my mc. she looks bomb tho

“It’s like she’s welcoming me home…” Caleb grunted into your ear, his hand pressing down on the light protrusion on the pit of your tummy—evidence of how deep he is in your heat. Snug and tight around his fat cock, just the way he loved it.

Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes as your tiny hands clawed at his back, your nails often bumping against the metal plates of his bionic arm.

“C-Caleb…”

A groan from him, “Yes, pip-squeak? That you or your pussy talking to me?” He grinned from ear to ear.

You’ve never once heard him talk such vulgarities towards you, especially not to your core of all things. Though you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it the least bit attractive.

The moment you—well, he adjusted to being inside you, he ground his pelvis against the curve of your ass. Each roll of his hips causing his eyes to flutter shut as he tried his best not to cum prematurely.

He was a man, through and through, and he wasn’t just gonna let his woman go high and dry. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint you and your pretty cunt.

One, two, three teasing thrusts came from him, the next ones more subtle and shallower than the last.

It was absolute torture, he was so deep inside you yet he barely even moved an inch? Shouldn’t he be more lenient? Nicer? Has the Fleet completely changed his generosity? These questions swirled around your head like cartoon birds, eating away your brain and turning it into mush.

Even your pussy cried out for more—leaking excess juices down his cock to taint his balls. The wetness was enough to resemble the tears that flowed freely from your eyes, and it almost broke Caleb’s walls down.

Almost, but not quite.

Caleb smiled, one of mischievous intent as he cupped your cheek and cooed at your pitiful expression. “You know I hate it when you cry…” Another shallow thrust.

“What does my girl want?” He was teasing you now. He pressed his forehead against yours, merely a breaths away from your quivering lips that which he thumbed and toyed with.

“Just say the word,” he whispered under his breath, the old Caleb you knew slipping past the Colonel front he put up ever since he joined the Fleet and it brought a sense of reprieve in you even for a moment. “Fast? Hard? Slow?” With each word he uttered, he gave a brief example before stopping completely.

You arched your back, pressing your chest against his as the need inside you began to grow like the plague, begging to be cured.

Caleb gave a sharp thrust before stilling his movements once more and kept his pelvis flushed against your rear, patiently waiting for your words of encouragement.

“Come on, pip-squeak…” Caleb pressed feather light kisses on your neck, “Talk to me.” A whimper escaped your lips at his words. “I…” You started while he hummed in response, non verbally telling you to go on as his bionic arm trailed down your sweaty body to cup your breasts.

Tweaking and flicking your pert nipple in between his cold, metallic fingers while closely watching your expressions, hyperaware of every detail on your face. Your pores, your lashes, your glossy eyes, your flushed cheeks—Christ, he wanted to move, now.

If you don’t beg soon enough, he’s gonna take matters into his own hands and make love—no, fuck you just the way he wanted.

“Please, move… I can’t—I can’t take anymore—“ a squeal erupted from your throat the moment he pulled his hips back and thrust back inside harshly immediately after those pleas left your mouth. The wet squelch of your pussy were music to his ears as he finally took what he and most especially you wanted.

His movements never faltered, it grew more fervent if anything, as if wanting to imprint his length along your gummy walls—to get you addicted to it. Caleb doesn’t know how long he’s fantasized of being inside you, claiming your cunny and fucking it into the shape of his cock so that it would fit him and only him.

Years of fisting his own hand, imagining it was you finally coming true. He could almost cry because of it. Caleb used his free hand to wrap your legs around his hips to pull him in deeper, closer to you. He felt like he was gonna die if he doesn’t merge with you; he needed to occupy the space between the both of you. He needed to feel you.

“Hold onto me,” he rasped, sweat dripping from his forehead and onto your face: your fucked out face that he loves so much. “Don’t you dare let go until I tell you to.” His words left no room for argument, and so you did. You held onto him like it was your life’s mission.

Your hands clawed at his toned back, leaving faint crescent marks and thin red lines on his scarred skin. “Caleb, Caleb—“ you sobbed uncontrollably, the tip of his length hitting every sensitive spot in your pussy.

As if he was born to be inside of you, born to be your partner, born to be your soulmate. The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue. Soulmate.

Sensing your sudden shift in mood, Caleb furrowed his brows and buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and cradled your head, his hips never faltering in its speed even if he sensed the doubt in your eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.” He grunted, moving faster and harder—the head of his cock finally hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you. Your eyes flew open and instinctively scratched him harder, his name falling from your lips like a desperate prayer. “That’s it, focus on me, only me, Caleb.” He wanted to relieve you of this internal pain so only the thought of his cock was left in your pretty little head. Thoughts of how much he can make you feel good, not the latter.

He closed his eyes shut the moment your gummy walls squeezed around his shaft, as if to say he should never leave your heat, and he will gladly oblige if you told him not to.

A bubble formed at the pit of your stomach, one that was just about ready to pop. Moans reverberated around the room, paired with the sounds of your coupling and the headboard hitting the wall with every violent thrust Caleb gave you—knocking the wind out of your lungs.

Your nails continued to dig into his skin almost desperately, causing a groan to sound from Caleb. “Harder, scratch me harder…” He urged as his bionic arm left your thigh to rub at your erect pearl in fast and tight circles.

The cold metal hit your clit and you immediately choked on your moans, the feel of it sending shivers and electricity down your spine. Complying, you did as he asked of you, and scratched his skin harder. Caleb groaned and accidentally fisted your hair which he still cradled.

It was the only way he could feel you—the pain you gave him, emotionally and physically. A side effect that came with the experiments at the Fleet, and he wishes he could turn back time to the moment where everything went wrong and give you all the love you deserved. Even if it hurt, he’ll go through hell and back just to feel you on his skin once more.

“Cum for me, pip-squeak…” He huffed into your ear, “Show me just how much you missed me.” With a few more thrusts, you eventually came—squirt dripping and spraying all over your sweaty bodies.

It didn’t take long from Caleb to follow, giving a particularly harsh grind of his hips and he came deep inside of your womb, effectively filling up the void of your tummy as he collapsed on top of you. The two of you heaved for breath but you seemed the most out of it.

Caleb panted and began to pepper kisses along the skin of your neck and rubbed the back of your head as a way to apologize for pulling on your hair. “Are you okay? Did I go too hard?” He asked breathlessly and used his arms to push himself up so he wasn’t crushing you with his weight.

Caleb rested his body on his elbows as he cupped your flushed cheeks to check up on you. You gave him a faint nod and smiled, “Mhm…” You nuzzled into his palm and turned your head to gently kiss it. “I’m okay…”

He sighed in relief and nuzzled his nose against yours, “That’s good… I didn’t want to hurt you.” His lips found yours, moving it in tandem with the beating of your hearts as he remained snug in your tight heat. “That’s the last thing I wanted…” He eventually separated from the kiss and stared at you, love and affection lay bare in his eyes.

He never wanted to pull out. Was he even talking about your core anymore? Probably not. Either way, it didn’t matter. Caleb laid on his side and pulled you in close gently, not wanting to put more pressure on your sensitive pussy. His arms caged you in his embrace as he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and let his eyes flutter shut.

“I won’t ever leave you again…” He whispered, “I promise.”

[loudclan-clangen]

SO I CAN IGNORE THE HURT IM FEEL RIGHT NOW:

What's Song and Weed's relationship like? I imagine Song thinks of Week as a stoner aunt the stoner aunt with a PHD and Homeopathy certification

Weed does her best to make sure that Songpaw wasn't pushing himself too hard. She isn't his mentor, so they don't spend as much time together as him and Wildfirecry, but she always made sure to check on him when she could. You're 100% right about the stoner aunt thing though, If Songpaw was an adult she definately would have introduced him to ditch weed to help with his stress levels.

Thank you! I am honored to be your introduction to clangenblr! My note taking is very underwhelming. I take pretty sparse notes on google docs (sparse because I like to move and fudge things as I go along) and color code them so I can keep track of what season it is. Basically it only gets written down if it's going to be important in the future (births, deaths, scars, name changes, mates, accessories) or if I find it particularly interesting. It looks like this:

I arrived at this process because if I put literally any more effort into note taking the game moves too slowly and I immediately lose interest.

Her name is Magpie. She's still alive, but she didn't think that she would be able to hunt for both herself and Cave, especially since he wouldn't be able to help much as he got older, so she pointed him towards the valley and split.

He's still got all six...

...for now.

Thank you! The text on moons is a font that I made out of my handwriting using calligraphr. The text on ask posts is fully handwritten. It all comes from practice!

1280 pixels is the widest an image can be on tumblr (from my understanding), so I generally limit my canvas to that width to make sure that it doesn't get squished when I upload it. Then I am for each page to be about 2000 pixels, but between 1000 and 3000 seems to result in good image quality no matter what.

That's adorable, I love it!

[caitified]

Back about mom cc — her comforting our baby daughter who’s being fussy (any scenario works, but like this is how i picture it) during like bench-time or wtv?

Let’s say that perhaps Caitlin gets to sit down during some time during the game and ur in close proximity to her, ur daughter notices her other mom so she starts being a nightmare and cait notices her crying so she comes over and like

Idek Jumbotron clip of her calming her down by picking her up and just being the cutest mom ever — then u looking super sorry to essentially bug her while she’s working and she just kisses u both & says she’s super happy for u guys!

JUMBOTRON

CAITLIN CLARK X FAMILY READER

comments: guys not me lying and saying i was gonna post yesterday, sorry i forgot 😭 anyways had to come back to CC with a family fic! please give me more family ideas.

warnings:none

you were sitting courtside at caitlin’s game, like you always did, bella in your lap with her chubby arms wrapped around your neck. she was in her little fever jersey—number 22, just like her other mom—because she refused to wear anything else on game days.

it had been a good day so far. you got her dressed without much fuss, she had her snacks during warm-ups, and for the first half of the game, she was content to sit on your lap, clapping and shouting “mama!” every time caitlin scored. but bella was two, and two-year-olds had their limits. by the third quarter, her patience was wearing thin.

you were doing your best to keep her entertained—pointing out the cheerleaders, handing her your phone to watch videos, even bribing her with fruit snacks—but she was restless. the arena was loud, the game intense, and the fact that caitlin hadn’t glanced your way in what felt like hours was not helping.

“mama,” bella whined, squirming in your arms. her bottom lip stuck out, and you could see the tears welling in her big brown eyes, so much like yours. “i want mama.”

“baby, she’s working,” you said softly, brushing her curls out of her face. “she’ll come see you after, okay? we have to be patient.”

but bella wasn’t hearing it. her little hands balled into fists, and the first tear slipped down her cheek. “mama!” she cried, louder this time, and your heart sank because you knew there was no stopping it now.

you were bouncing her on your knee, whispering soft reassurances into her ear, when you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. caitlin was walking toward you.

you froze. she had just subbed out for a quick rest, and you knew she only had a minute or two before she’d be called back in. this was her time to regroup, to catch her breath, and here she was, making her way to you with that determined look on her face.

bella saw her first. “mama!” she screamed, the tears suddenly forgotten as she reached out for caitlin, her tiny hands opening and closing like she couldn’t get to her fast enough.

caitlin crouched in front of you, her long arms reaching out to scoop bella up effortlessly. “hey, baby girl,” she murmured, her voice soft and steady, like the crowd noise didn’t even register to her. “what’s all this crying about, huh?”

bella’s tears stopped immediately, her little body melting into caitlin’s as she buried her face in her mom’s shoulder. caitlin rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles, murmuring things you couldn’t quite hear but could feel in the way bella relaxed against her.

the crowd had noticed by now. the camera operator must’ve caught the moment because, when you glanced up, the jumbotron was showing caitlin holding bella, her hand cradling the back of her head like she was the most precious thing in the world.

you felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks. you didn’t mean to pull her attention like this—not during the game. you opened your mouth to apologize, but before you could, caitlin turned to you, her blue eyes soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name but felt down to your bones.

“don’t,” she said, reading you like she always did. “don’t apologize.”

she leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead first, then to bella’s temple. the crowd cheered, and you could hear the commentators gushing about how sweet the moment was, but all you could focus on was the way caitlin looked at you like nothing else mattered.

“i’ll see you after the game, okay?” she said softly, her forehead resting against yours for just a second before she handed bella back to you.

you nodded, your throat too tight to speak, and watched as she jogged back to the bench, her ponytail swinging behind her.

bella, now perfectly content, snuggled into your chest, her little fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt. you kissed the top of her head, still feeling the warmth of caitlin’s touch on your skin, and whispered, “you have the best mom in the world, you know that?”

bella didn’t answer, but the little smile on her face said enough.

thanks for reading! requests are open, especially family related ones.

[mimipolo]

hey :) could you do a nam-gyu fic where thanos is flirting/put claim on the reader, but she clearly like nam-gyu more. just him dealing with his attraction for her, but still trying to be on thanos' good side

Nam-gyu x reader

I don't know if I did this right I had like five different ideas for how it could pan out so I hope this is alright

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

You were content with the idea of completely ignoring Thanos, his odd claims and even weirder way of flirting. Sure, it was fairly entertaining but it wasn't something you planned to put up with for long.

That was until he walked up to your bunk with a friend in towe. A friend that immediately caught your eye.

"Ayy Senorita!" He draws out in his usual musical tone, behind him a man that looked uninterested, perhaps even annoyed to be there making you grin slightly.

"Aren't ya gonna come down." A whiney voice calls up to you, his face pulling into a frown as he crossed his arms.

"Dude, this a waste of time let's just go." He's still behind Thanos, a hand already on his shoulder, nudging him slightly, hoping to convince him to turn back, and as his gaze went from him to you he stops. The eye contact he made with you was so undeniable you actually looked at the rapper directly for once, startled by how your heart suddenly raced.

"I think I'll stay and eat up here...thanks though." Your refusal immediately has him grumbling as he dramatically pivots to walk away. But his friend hangs back a small moment longer, the brief acknowledgement held a value only you two could fathom.

"Come on Nam-su we outt." Thanos drawls lazily, his arms in his pockets as he swayed from side to side.

"Nam-gyu..." He sighs defeatedly, it was pretty clear this wasn't the first time and likely wouldn't be the last time he'd have to correct the rapper of his name.

Nam-gyu huh? You wouldn't like to admit it but you kept the name close to your mind, maybe he'd favour you for remembering it. Which was a weird thought to have for someone you hadn't actually properly met yet.

You hoped to though.

And he did too, when Thanos was insistent on getting you to eat with them he was almost instantly irritated. Why? What was the point of that? From the beginning he wasn't a fan of any distractions that could lead Thanos away from him, it was inconvenient and if he wanted to win he needed both their focus on that damn cash prize.

What he hadn't prepared for was the you. You who Thanos had miraculously spotted among all the bland people in this weird murder game. And he would never admit it, especially not to him that he understood why he was so hooked on you.

And with that came a jealousy. A deep, seething jealousy that came from nowhere. Now he was frustrated with himself, Thanos and you. And the worst of it all is him actually being just as bummed you didn't come down to eat with them.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

From then on there was this tense love triangle between the three of you which Thanos held no part in. You had no intention of making it clear to the man you weren't interested, first of all: it'd be too much of a hassle, and second because of his favour you've been able to survive games you probably wouldn't have. So you'd put up with him, no big deal.

The only thing, no, person making this harder was Nam-gyu. He was also seemingly smart enough to judge it's best to not make any big move as you were both benefitting from being close to Thanos. But it was painfully clear his attention was always on you, his eyes only snapping back alive at the mention of your name during the moments Thanos seems to talk forever. Having to tip toe around the unspoken attraction towards each other was fine by you, exhilarating even. But you're really starting to wonder if Thanos really can't notice when you and the longer haired man only glance between each other whenever he flirts with you.

Apparently the small amused smiles and prolonged eye contact wasn't enough for Nam-gyu. This could end badly if he was caught but he couldn't care less at this point, this whole time it's just felt like the two of you were saying a million things while saying nothing at all. And he'd actually be damned if he let Thanos hold him back from talking to you. He believed you felt the same, it's not just anyone that looks at him so fondly and sees him as an individual. You saw him like he was someone familiar and when he lies awake, he's convinced that's why he's so drawn to you.

Which is also why he's sneaking to see you during lights out. Was this a good idea?

Probably not.

But he'd already climbed past a snoring Avengers threat so he might as well see it through. He sucked in his breath harshly when he heard the familiar snoring pattern pause when he finally made it to the ground. His heart only relaxing when it fell back into rythmn. Not that he was too worried though, he had thousands of excuses on the tip of his tongue. A benefit that came with being a pathological liar.

He is oddly greatful that the majority of the people that were on your bunk had died, the only remaining players being two beds above yours. Meaning he didn't need to sweat about not waking anyone on his way up. As he begins climbing he draws to a question. What if you're not even awake? Even worse what if you are or he wakes you up and you think he's some weirdo. He physically shakes the thought away as he continues his ascent, he just needed to see you, then he'd go back.

It was odd being able to see you so up close, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. Seeing you like this calmed him down and made him want to fall asleep himself.

He freezes when you shift and his hair brushes your nose, your face scrunching up as you waft away the unwanted texture with a groggy hand. Eyes squinting open to see a stunned Nam-gyu instead of a stray price of fluff from your pillow.

What, is he doing here?

You gasp sharply, immediately sitting up and accidentally banging your head against the bed above you in your rush. He's quietly shushing you as you hold your head in whine in pain. You only look back at him when the pain has slightly subsided, hissing one last time before tear pricked eyes meet his.

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Can't I come to see you?" You squint at his words, they pissed you off, obviously he could but you were literally sleeping?

"You came to watch me sleep?" You ask sarcastically, grinning knowingly as he groaned and rolled his eyes.

Seeing as you weren't entirely put off by his night visit he crawls onto your bed fully, catching you a bit off guard but you make no objection against it which makes him strangely glad.

"Thanos isn't any good, you shouldn't be with him." He says bitterly, when you don't say anything immediately after he looks away from you and runs his hair behind his ears.

"...And you're saying you are?" you say with the slight raise of your brow.

You were just fucking around you already liked him more from the moment you saw him. Long disobedient hair and an angular face and a surprisingly sharp tongue when provoked. Ticking most of your boxes, you just wanted to see how he'd respond.

"Nah... but I could be better, than him at least." He says with a small huff which makes you laugh slightly, and he immediately notes he's never heard it before.

"I'll see you to that." Your words make his heart seize up but in the way when he's won when he didn't expect to. The carefree act he had going was going to crumble if you kept being so casual with him.

It's only now he feels the tensity of the situation, sitting in your bed in an area mostly secluded. He was actually feeling nervous being around you without Thanos there as some barrier to the two of you. You're looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to make some smart ass response but you're so pretty right now. Your eyes on him and him alone. He's keeping quiet because if he spoke as he was now... he couldn't promise he wouldn't immediately embarass himself.

Instead he looks between you and the wall, his eyes scanning your face each time before he looked away. Despite the chaos of feelings reeling from inside him his face was mostly unreadable. The only thing telling you anything was his jaw tightening and loosening, maybe chewing the inside of his cheek.

You tilt your head to see if he'd look at you if you were more in his line of view but he only locked eyes with you for a moment before looking up.

He was nervous?

The thought made your chest swell even though you knew he was probably just deep in thought. Either way your fighting back a smile as you take his face in your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. It was honestly amazing how he came back to reality from the contact. Staring at you with wide confused eyes as if questioning why you would even do that.

And when you start to laugh to yourself quietly he's chuckling flustered beside you. His lips pursed tight to not let the grin on his face appear, but his feelings were clear in the new softness in his eyes.

Nodding lightly like he's fully savoured your presence he's manoeuvring himself to leave your bed, giving the underside of your knee a light squeeze before settling on the ladder.

"G'night..."

"Night Nam-gyu."

The first genuine smile of the night freely slips onto his face, making your own smile appear before he's making his descent back down. Grinning to himself like an idiot all the way back to his bed because he managed to get the girl Thanos saw first.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Ever since then it's been this mutual joke between you two. You're holding back a snicker as Thanos serenades you because Nam-gyu's right behind him rolling his eyes and mocking him.

Nightly routines of him visiting your bed comforted you on those nights you couldn't will yourself to sleep. There's been more than one occasion he's stayed the night and forgot to go back to his bed and when questioned about where he was so early in the morning it's always "Needed to piss". He's glancing back at you accusingly as if you forced him to stay (you asked repeatedly very nicely.)

I love him sm I'm gonna cook him into a lasagna.

[burningembers91]

The Baby Shower - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare Gunpowder and Lace Like a Dog Three Little Words

Synopsis: While attending your friend's baby shower, The Salesman can't help but think about what it would be like to have a family of his own. But how could he be a loving father, when the only person he's ever cared about is you?

He disliked social events, detested having to made idle conversation with people he didn’t have any interest in. The mindless small talk drove him to the brink of insanity, the idea of having to talk about cars, jobs, and how much people paid for their watches was enough to give him an aneurysm. He’d managed to avoid needless social interaction for most of his life, but now that he had you, necessity required he dip his toes into the world of dinner parties, social gatherings and idle chit chat.

As much as he loathed talking to anyone who wasn’t you, he loved you more, and he’d walked across broken glass if you told him to. “It’s only for a few hours,” you smiled, zipping up your form hugging dress. “I know you hate these things, but she is my bestfriend after all.” You knew how much he hated attending parties with you, and you felt bad for making him go. You told him that you didn’t mind if he stayed at home, but staying at home wasn’t an option for him. He needed to be close to you, a loyal dog sticking by his mistress. He couldn’t stand to be away from you, even for a minute, so he’d brave the party, just for you. Everything he did nowadays was all for you. “When we get back, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” you whispered, smirking at him slyly in the mirror.

He was instantly hard, the list of desires he had too long to play out in his head. You always let him take charge when you got home from a party, always allowed him to punish you for the mundane torture he’d endured surrounded by your friends. “You’ll regret saying that,” he smiled, coming to stand behind you, his hands trailing up your body to the delicate curve of your neck. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, a small moan of pleasure escaping you as his hand gently closed around your throat. “I’ve never regretted letting you punish me,” you whispered, you hand snaking behind you to gently grip his growing erection. You were locked in a stalemate, both you desperate to tease the other, to see who would break first.

“Why don’t you let me punish you now,” he growled into your ear, his teeth grazing the soft, sensitive skin of your earlobe. “I could let you attend the party with my handprints on your ass. Maybe I’ll make you walk around with no underwear on while I drip from that pretty little pussy of yours.” You were so close to relenting, to letting him have his way. But you didn’t have time to play now, you were already late. “You’ll just have to be patient,” you smiled sweetly, squeezing his aching bulge between your grasp a little tighter. He moaned into you, his face buried in your hair as your fingers worked him through his suit. Your touch was his drug, the one thing he craved more than anything in the world. “More,” he grunted, pushing himself further into your touch. His hips bucked against your hand; his eyes fixed on yours in the mirror as he chased his high. “Later,” you whispered, pulling your hand away. He groaned in frustration, his arousal evident through the fabric of his pants. “We need to get going,” you told him, grabbing your purse from its hook on the back of the bedroom door. “I can’t be late to my best friend’s baby shower.”

The party was just as dire as he’d expected, everyone laughing and chatting about the prospect of their friends’ becoming parents. He’d never felt paternal before, had never understood the fascination with bringing a child into the world. He did his duty, plastering a smile on his face, asking your friends about their jobs and their families. But then he noticed you, your hands proudly cupping your friends growing baby belly, the two of you lost in conversation. Something stirred within him, some carnal desire he’d never felt before.

He pictured you with a growing baby bump, your hands pressed to your lower back as you looked lovingly down at your belly. He imagined his hands cupping your bump protectively as you fell asleep each night, of placing soft, sweet kisses on your stretchmark covered stomach. You’d be a wonderful mother, so caring and kind. But what kind of father would he be? He wasn’t capable of loving anyone or anything other than you. He tried to push the thought from his mind, convincing himself it was just residual desire leftover from the moment in the bedroom. And yet the thoughts persisted. Thoughts of you bringing a baby home, of cradling the tiny life in your hands as you sat by the window. He was getting angry now, the incessant images of you caring for his baby weaving their way into the fibres of his brain. He couldn’t risk bringing a baby into the world, not when he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to love it.

That night, he was extra rough when he punished you. He forced you to your knees, fucking your throat with his aching, hard cock until tears streamed down your face. He bent you over the bed, spanking you until your skin turned red. He fucked you into the mattress, your face buried in the pillows as he took his frustration out on your tight, dripping core.

But after the punishment, when he’d returned to being your faithful little dog, the thoughts resumed. Thoughts of you growing his baby, thoughts of walks through the park with a stroller, of nighttime feeds and days out at soft play. The baby would be part of you both, your combined DNA. But he couldn’t choose what parts of him the baby inherited. Would they be as cold and callous as he was? Would they get kicks out of torturing and taking the lives of innocent people? Would they grow up to be just as evil as their father?

He didn’t sleep that night, his mind whirling as his thoughts consumed him. He stared down at you as you slept, your soft body pressed against his. He had no doubt you’d be a great mother.

But what kind of father would he be if he felt nothing for the life he helped create?

[the-offside-rule]

Lando Norris (McLaren) - Sports Car

The sequel to Two Hands

Two Hands Part I, Part II

Y/n sat in the dimly lit studio, headphones snug over her ears, as the beat played for what felt like the hundredth time. She leaned back in her chair, mouthing along to the lyrics she'd scribbled down a few hours earlier, occasionally tweaking a word or two in her notebook. The explicit undertones of the song didn’t faze her; it was raw, honest, and unapologetic, just like she wanted it to be. She hit replay again and again, trying to perfect every detail.

The door to the studio creaked open, and Y/n barely looked up as her best friend, Tate, strolled in holding two iced coffees. "Still working on that song, huh?" Tate teased, plopping down on the couch and pulling her phone out. "Yup." Y/n replied without missing a beat, scribbling something down and playing the demo back for the umpteenth time.

Tate listened in silence for a moment, her thumbs flying across her phone screen. But the more she absorbed the lyrics, the more her jaw slowly dropped. By the time Y/n got to the second chorus, Tate was staring at her like she’d grown another head.

"Are we gonna just ignore the elephant in the room right now?" Tate finally said, setting her phone down. Y/n arched a brow, leaning back in her chair. "What?" Y/n asked. "What?" Tate echoed in the same tone, letting out a disbelieving laugh. "This song! Who is this about, and why are you suddenly… so worked up?" Y/n rolled her eyes, spinning her chair lazily to face her friend. "It’s nothing. Just… a song."

Tate snorted, crossing her arms. "Right. A song that happens to be very… explicit about what you want to do to someone. Come on, Y/n. We both know it's about Papaya." Y/n rolled her eyes at the code name they gave Lando. It wasn't practical or secretive in any way possible. It was so dumb. And yet, the mention of his code name, Y/n’s cheeks warmed, but she shrugged it off. "It’s not about anyone in particular. It's...I don't know. It's just setting the tone for the album, I guess." She said, avoiding Tate’s knowing gaze. "Besides, it’s not like I’m going to see him anytime soon. We only ever run into each other at races."

Tate narrowed her eyes, sliding the iced coffee across the table to her. "Uh-huh. Sure. But, girl, you need to stop lying to yourself. If this song is even half as honest as your feelings, you’re clearly still thinking about him. Just tell him what you want, he’s not a mind reader." Y/n sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. "I’m not telling him anything, Tate. It’s never going to go anywhere. We’re both too busy, and I’m not about to complicate things."

Tate groaned, throwing her head back. "Fine, fine. But let me see what you’ve got so far." She grabbed the notebook from the desk before Y/n could protest. Her eyes widened as she read the first line aloud. "Hey, cute jeans, take mine off me?" She burst out laughing, nearly dropping the notebook. "Are you kidding me?" Y/n shrugged, smirking. "You told me to be honest, so… that’s the energy I’m bringing to this song."

Tate kept flipping through the pages, her laughter growing louder. "Pretty blue streetlights and my hazel eyes, and if it feels right, we could go again like 3 or 4 more times? Y/n, who are you?" Y/n winked, leaning back in her chair. "My favourite part is the next bit. "On the corner of my bed, or maybe on the beach, you could do it on your own, while you're looking at- oh my god!" Tate squealed, chuking the notebook onto the table. "Think he’ll pick up on the hints?" Tate stared at her, utterly dumbfounded, before bursting into another fit of laughter. "This is not a hint, this is an open invitation. But honestly? If this doesn’t get his attention, nothing will."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Max Fewtrell’s stream was buzzing with activity. Thousands of viewers flooded the chat, firing off questions for him and his guest, none other than Lando Norris. The two were sitting in Max’s gaming setup, laughing about something dumb when a specific question caught Max’s eye. "Oi, Lando." Max said, grinning mischievously as he leaned closer to his monitor. "Chat wants to know what you think about Tate and Y/n’s new song."

Lando blinked, tilting his head in confusion. "They has a new song?" Max turned to him, his brows shooting up. "Mate, where have you been? It’s everywhere. There’s a music video too." Lando leaned back in his chair, his interest piqued. "Oh, I didn’t know. I mean, I like their stuff so… yeah, put it on I guess." He said ruffling his curls. "Alright, chat." Max said, smirking as he pulled up the song. "Let’s see what all the hype is about."

The track began, the sultry beat filling the room. On the screen, the music video played, showing Y/n moving effortlessly to the rhythm. Lando’s eyes were glued to the screen, his focus narrowing in on every word she sang and every move she made. "Hey, cute jeans, take mine off me." Y/n’s voice purred, her tone teasing yet commanding. Max burst out laughing, glancing at Lando. "This is… uh, quite forward, huh?" Lando, however, was silent, his gaze locked on the screen.

In the alley in the back

In the centre of this room,

With the windows rolled down,

Boy, don't make me choose

As the video continued, the lyrics grew bolder, the visuals more suggestive, and Lando couldn’t help the slight flush that crept up his neck.

Pretty blue streetlights and my hazel eyes,

And if it feels right, we could go again like 3 or 4 times.

Max snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. "Well, I mean, they know what they want." Lando let's out a soft chuckle at his remark.

On the corner of my bed,

Oh and maybe on the beach,

You can do it on your own,

While you're looking at me

Lando finally tore his gaze from the screen, a small, almost shy smile on his face. "Its a good song, actually." He smiles as the music seems to fade away for the time being. "You’ve met that one, right?" Max asked casually, still watching the video. Lando nodded. "Yeah, briefly. In Vegas."

"Vegas, huh? Sounds like a story there." Max wiggled his eyebrows knowing exactly what happened, but Lando just laughed it off, shaking his head. "Nah, nothing like that. She’s cool, though."

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/n and Tate were watching the stream from her apartment, Tate’s laptop propped up on the coffee table. At first, they’d been laughing at Max’s antics, but as Lando’s voice filled the room, the mood shifted. Tate frowned, glancing at Y/n. "Briefly? That’s all he’s going to say? What about everything else? The flirting, the sneaking ro his hotel room, the…" Y/n waved her off, her expression unreadable. "Doesn’t matter."

"It does, though." Tate pressed. "You’ve got to say something. You can’t just let this keep happening." Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You’re right. It’s time I did something about this." Tate’s eyes widened, a mix of excitement and disbelief on her face. "Wait, are you saying you’re finally going to tell him how you feel?" Y/n scoffed, looking almost repulsed by the idea. "God, no." Tate frowned. "Then what are you going to do?"

Y/n’s lips curled into a sly smile, a spark of mischief lighting up her eyes. "I have a better idea."

[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | five.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 6.6k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, more progress between oc x yunho 🥰, everyone is playing cupid because they feel it in the airrrr lol, a lil tiny, casual family meet and greet, oc talks to yunho a bit about her parents, yunho is absolutely smitten but he's def still struggling with his own feelings and thoughts

yunho: what kind of coffee do you like?

you: that's random. lol but anything sweet? i usually go for coffee with extra cream and sugar. or a vanilla latte!

yunho: gotcha. lol

you: why? what about you?

yunho: i usually just stick to an iced americano.

you: mud water.

yunho: don't say that. ☹️

you: you know we're supposed to be meeting in like 3 mins right? lol

yunho: sorry, gonna be a few mins late? 😅 got a coffee order to take care of!

you: yunho!

You playfully roll your eyes and smile when Yunho doesn't respond on Slack afterwards. It had been a few weeks since you and Yunho began meeting on a weekly basis, all meetings considered productive yet easy-going and laid back. Some had turned to lunch meetings, killing two birds with one stone whenever you or Yunho had to reschedule. You had grown comfortable with Yunho quickly, and to your surprise, Yunho was reciprocating the same energy. You would talk about the most random things in between going through the to-do list of items you needed to check in about. You were slowly getting to know him, and him, you. You couldn't help but feel like your crush on him was growing by minute, though you tried to tell yourself to take it slow and not act too obvious about it since:

One, you didn't wanna look like a fool.

Two, you don't even know if he feels the same.

Three, what if he's not even thinking about dating in general? 

Then, you'd look stupid.

You're not gonna lie, though; a part of you felt like he was also interested in exploring this idea. He was just taking his time, too. Probably checking off the boxes on his own list before saying or doing anything.

The Instagram likes were one thing.

Then, it was reacting to your stories. The likes, the messages. The subtle flirting in between the lines.

Yunho was over here in disbelief because he didn't think he'd be shaking off the dust on his instagram page just to keep up with you. He'd even post a few times on his story just to see if you'd do the same— which, you did.

Had him bothering his own daughter to make sure his posts were up to par.

⇢FLASHBACK

"Ace." Yunho calls for Seora as they sit at a café, indulging in drinks and pastries before getting their day started together.

"Huh?" She says, sipping on her iced peach tea.

"How do you add music to your Instagram story?" He furrows his brows.

"The music note at the top right corner .. ?" She lets out a breath. "Wait, hold on. Hand it over." Yunho cocks a brow up before handing his phone to his daughter. "Why are you posting this?"

"It's a nice picture, isn't it? The sun is hitting the drink and the pastry perfectly."

"It's good, but why don't we get some candids? I can take it."

"What, no—"

"Dad, please. It's impressive, but you need to put a little more umph. You've got a face, like jeez .. put it to use." She raises his phone. "Here, just sit and act natural."

"Seora, you don't have to."

"Sit and act natural!" She repeats. "Act like I'm not taking pictures." Yunho chuckles before shaking his head and acting as naturally as possible while sipping his drink. "Amazing." Seora aggressively clicks away before setting his phone back down. "Hm." She goes through the photos she took. "I'll post the best one and add a song to it, okay?"

"Go for it."

"Just so you know, since you are my dad, it'll be free of charge and you don't have to give me credit." He laughs. 

"Noted." She pauses and squints at him, trying to read her father while resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"No one! I can't just post?"

"All of a sudden." She continues to give him a look before resuming her work. "Your Instagram has been sitting in the historical section of the library for years."

"Hey, now. That's an exaggeration. What did I tell you about exaggerating?"

"Yeah huh. You didn't even know how to add music. That's how ancient it is to you." Seora laughs. "Dad, just admit it. It's fine. It won't make me love you any less."

"Are you done?" Yunho cocks his head to the side and playfully squints his eyes at her.

"Actually, yup! Just about." She slides over his phone. "Look at your story. In case you didn't know, you press your profile pic—"

"Ace, I know, okay."

"Sure about that?" She giggles, watching as her dad goes through his story— eyes widening in the process.

"Since when did you get good at taking photos?"

"Since ever, duh."

"Thanks, babygirl. Think you might've saved me there."

"You're welcome. Next time, there might be a service fee. Depending on the day."

"Service fee, huh?"

"Payment accepted are stickers, shopping dates and new Nikes."

"We'll talk."

"Great." Seora smiles just as Yunho ruffles her hair.

⇢END

It's the tiny chase. The pre-chase before the actual chase. Surveying the waters before going out to sea.

Yunho likes that part, and so do you.

You smile a bit to yourself thinking about the tiny moments, typing away and taking care of other items on your list until Yunho's figure appears in the hallway. He's talking to someone across the way, two cups of coffee in his hand. He laughs and bids his farewell before walking into the conference room.

"I'm only 7 minutes late."

"Only?" You snort as he puts your cup of coffee down. "Yunho, you didn't have to." You slightly pout and he smiles.

"Did you have coffee already?"

"No.."

"Then, yeah." Yunho chuckles. "Vanilla latte."

"Thank you." You smile at him before taking a sip. It does hit the spot, and you're not sure if it tastes extra good today because Yunho's the one that brought it. "Hey, is this from the coffee shop on the corner of the hospital wing?" You recognize the name as you've made the trek over a few times if you were truly craving their coffee.

"Mhm."

"They give stickers out with every purchase. Did they give you one?"

"Yeah." He digs into his pocket and slides you a cute cartoon drawing of a capybara holding a cup of coffee. You squeal as you take it into your hands, looking up at him with the cutest look he's ever seen.

"It's different every time! Can I take this off of your hands?"

"Go for it." He chuckles. "Glad you like it. I would've probably tossed it."

"I'll give it a good home." You tuck it into your pencil case.

"I know you will." Cute, is what he's trying to say.

"So, how is your morning so far?"

"Kinda hectic. Seora and I stayed up a little too late watching our show. She got up a few minutes later than usual and she was tired. Woops."

"Yunho." He laughs.

"What? We just get too into it without realizing."

"That's cute."

"Anyway, finally shuffled her out the door, then she realized she forgot a folder she needed for class so we had to turn back and .. yeah." 

"Eventful morning."

"To say the least." He chuckles. "What about you?"

"Hm, it's been pretty quiet on my end. But, it is Monday so I'm anticipating the chaos as the week goes on." 

"I feel that. Did you have a good weekend at least? You looked like you had fun at the vintage pop-up." Yunho types away on his laptop, the never-ending notification sounds of Slack going off.

"I did! Sian and I grabbed a few gems."

"The mirror pic was cute." You giggle.

"Thanks. How was yours?"

"Good. Seora and I did a little staycation downtown."

"Aw. Do you guys always do that?"

"The staycation kinda thing? Not really. But, we always spend time together doing different things. She wanted to hit a couple of spots down there so I figured we could just make a stay out of it. I think we'll camp next."

"That's so cute." You chuckle. "Glad you enjoyed yourself." He smiles.

"Yeah." He's doing that thing again. His eyes linger on you for a second and you aren't really sure how to respond or react. You break first, shifting your attention to the notes on your laptop before clearing the small tension in the air.

"So, how are things going with the team?"

"Good. I think we're ready to schedule a bigger meeting sooner than later to showcase what we've built so far. The majority is finished and they can just let us know what tweaks they want before we finalize and deploy."

"Oh, really? That's amazing, Yunho!"

"Don't thank me, I barely lifted a finger. It was the clinical informatics team."

"Shut up." You laugh. "You helped push it through with your guidance, regardless." You take a few notes. "How about the network and everything in the peds unit?"

"Should be good to go, too."

"Okay. I'll send out a poll later to the wider group to find a good time for us to meet."

"Sounds good, boss lady." You chuckle to yourself as you set your own reminders before meeting his eyes again. "How's everything else going on your end?"

"Hm, good. We're just waiting on a few approvals regarding patient transfers and all these other clinical roadblocks."

"Keeping you busy, I see."

"Kinda, yeah. But, I like it."

"That's all that matters." He gives you a toothless smile. 

"Is there anything else I should include in the meeting agenda for the wider group?"

"I think that's it. It'll be key for them to see the build and watch us play around with it. It'll probably take up most of the meeting."

"Should we aim for an hour?"

"Are you gonna stay for the hour?" You cock a brow up.

"What if I leave?"

"30 mins then." You snort.

"Kidding. I have to, silly."

"1 hour's good then."

"Why does it matter if I'm there or not?"

"I like having you around? You .. have a calming presence. It makes me feel comfortable." You giggle.

"Uh huh." 

"Swear. These people can be ruthless."

"I'm sure. I don't doubt that. I'll be there, I have to be. And you'll all do fine, I'm sure they'll be really pleased about the progress no matter what." You sip on your coffee. "Anything else? Going once, going twice?"

"Mm, yeah. Actually. Not to pivot or anything, but they're having food trucks at the hospital courtyard later for lunch. Wanna come?"

"What time?"

"I think they'll start around 11:30am, but we'll probably head down closer to lunch or a bit after."

"Cool. Let me know when you guys are there? I'll try to drag Noeul with me. I'm sure Sian will be there."

"I'll slack you." You shake your head, immediately feeling bold enough to slack him your number.

"My number. So you don't have to Slack me. I don't always check it." He smiles and calls the number before hanging up.

"That's me." He smirks. "Coulda just asked, you know?"

"You're full of it." He laughs as you both stand, gathering your things to head out of the room. "Guess I'll see you for lunch?"

"Mhm. I'm sticking around on this floor to take care of something else. I'll text you where we're at later." He presses the elevator button for you, watching as you safely get inside.

"Sounds good." He gives you a nod of acknowledgement just as the doors slide and close in on you. 

Lunch comes quicker than you can even grasp, the sudden wave of emails and little, never-ending tasks taking up your morning hours. It isn't until Noeul pops into your space that it triggers you to check the time again.

11:58am.

"Um, what are you doing?" She knits her brows at you, watching as you furiously type away. "I was waiting for you to come, but you never came."

"Sorry, time literally flew by with all this stuff coming up. But, I'm almost done." 

"Okay, let me go pee then. I rushed over thinking you might have left without me."

"What, no?" You laugh just as she scurries off to the bathroom, giving you time to type up the last bits of your email before sending it off and crossing it off on your to-do list. 

yunho: we're out here! coming soon? 

you: mhm, just waiting for noeul!

yunho: we'll stick around the fountain until you ladies come!

you: [likes message]

"Ready?" Noeul has her wallet in hand, a big smile on her face as she approaches your cubicle once more.

"Are you ready?" You chuckle as you stand and push your chair in. 

"Definitely. Starving." She sighs. "So, Yunho invited you, hm? Literally can't get enough of you—"

"Stop it right now. Don't go there." You press the elevator button. "We're just cool. He's chill. It doesn't have to be anything." You give her a look.

"Doesn't have to be anything when he could have just left it at your weekly Monday morning meetings. But, no." She smirks and turns to you as you head inside the elevator. "We got lunch dates and now, food truck dates."

"Okay, you know the lunch meetings were because either of us had to reschedule. And this food truck thing happened on a whim."

"Why are you trying so hard to deny all of it? Girl, it's right in front of your face. The man wants you and I know you do, too." She gently nudges you. "Atta girl." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you scroll senselessly on your phone just to distract yourself.

"Anyway." You let out a breath. 

"Uh huh." She giggles. 

"Sian's there. Any idea what you're craving?"

"You know, I've been craving a good pad thai." You nod.

"That's sounds right now, actually. With some vietnamese coffee."

"Hope they have a truck for it." The both of you swiftly exit the elevator and start making your trek down the path to the main hospital. There are a bunch of trucks parked around and near the courtyard area, with expectedly a ton of people in attendance from both hospitals. You spot the fountain in the middle, tippy-toeing to see if you can catch a glimpse of Yunho from where you're at.

"Oh, you're here!" Sian says, already with a to-go container in hand. "Where's your guy at?" Noeul laughs loudly.

"Shut up!" You glare at her. "They're by the fountain." You start heading towards the fountain with the two in tow.

"There's so many trucks, I'm overwhelmed."

"All so good, though!" Sian starts talking about what she bought and the other trucks she managed to pass by. When you finally approach the fountain, you find Yunho, Taehyun, Jihoon and a couple of their other team members hanging around— laughing and joking in their usual fashion. His eyes immediately land on you, and his lips turn upward into a big smile. He waves, Taehyun, Jihoon and the others turning your way to greet you with smiles or their own waves.

"Aw, she's here." Taehyun pokes fun at Yunho. "His ears are turning red." Jihoon laughs.

"Never seen that before. Must be a good thing." Yunho squints his eyes at them before you and the girls finally approach the group.

"Hey!" You greet them, along with Noeul and Sian.

"Glad you made it through the sea of people."

"Yeah, there's definitely a lot of people around." You chuckle.

"Hungry? Wanna go find something to eat?" You nod, letting Yunho lead the way. Before you even realize it, You and Yunho end up walking away from the group unintentionally— everyone splitting ways to grab food of their liking without coming up with a plan to meet somewhere in the middle afterwards.

Unless, this was their plan all along.

You can't even spot any of them in the surrounding crowd.

"Anything you're craving?"

"Me and Noeul were just talking about this." You chuckle. "We've been thinking about good pad thai."

"Mm." Yunho hums. "I think they have a truck over there for it. Line is kinda long though, if you're okay with that."

"It's fine. I have time." You look up at him. "What're you gonna eat?"

"Whatever you're eating?" He laughs. "I'm not gonna leave you alone in this line."

"Yunho. I'll be good, you can go find something you like."

"Nah, it's okay. I'm good with whatever. Besides, their garlic noodles sound good." You giggle.

"Okay then! If you say so." You pout a bit and he lets out a tiny laugh.

"How have the past few hours been?"

"The usual. A few emails did wash in and keep me busy. Had two quick check-in meetings over Zoom, too." He nods. "What about you and the team?"

"Yeah, it got kinda chaotic for a second. Lots of things were breaking at once, but we've got a handle on it. Systems are recovering." He checks his phone to make sure nothing else urgent has popped up.

"You guys are always running around."

"We are. Between both hospitals. Gives me a good workout to be running around like crazy." You laugh. "How's your brother doing, by the way? He seems cool. It was nice to see you guys together that one weekend."

"Cool? Please." You playfully roll your eyes. "But, he's good. Living life as he usually does." You chuckle. "We'll probably be back in the next weekend or so. Be prepared to get sick of us. Or, me. I guess." 

"Nah, never." Yunho laughs. "I'm glad you'll be around more often. I'm sure your parents are happy about it."

⇢FLASHBACK

"Your favorite child is here—" You smack Wonwoo upside the head as you two head in through the gate of your parents' house. You and Wonwoo decided to spend the night as an attempt to genuinely give them more time and be around them. "Ah-ow." He squints and looks at you.

"I don't recall you helping pick out their new couch last week."

"Oh, because the one weekend I'm away and can't come, you automatically think you're the favorite? Get a grip." You roll your eyes and gently push him to the side before entering the house. 

Yunho's car isn't in sight next door.

The both of you greet your parents loudly before going to your old, respective rooms and dropping off your things. Your parents waste no time shuffling you two back out of the house, dragging you along on their usual routine— Costco, other grocery stores and a bit of shopping at the mall. Wonwoo and your father start geeking out over golf clubs, fishing and coffee, while you and your mom are too busy shopping for makeup, bags, perfumes and skincare.

It's nice to see your family like this.

Calm, peaceful and enjoying each other without any side commentary and remarks.

Your family decides to grab a pretty early dinner at the food court— you and your brother opting for some rice bowls, while your mom and dad share some cold noodles. You and Wonwoo start updating your parents about where things are at work, with your mom happily praising Yunho when you mention how often you have to meet with him to push things forward on the IT side. Wonwoo talks a bit about how work has been keeping him busy and how him and the boys are planning more trips in the future. Luckily, your parents don't say much about how you both have been spending your downtime— the two of them too busy fighting over the kind of boba drink they wanna share before leaving the mall.

When you get back, you and Wonwoo clean up and get settled, already feeling hungry again after the small, early dinner you had.

"Hey." You lean against Wonwoo's door frame as he stands from shuffling through his duffle bag.

"Yeah?"

"Kinda want a snack. Ice cream. Something we can take and sit by the pit in the backyard."

"Convenience store trip?" You nod, already dressed in your oversized crewneck and sweats. Wonwoo throws on his hoodie over his shirt, sporting his basketball shorts and slippers. You let your parents know you're trekking down to the store, your dad calling out for you to bring back bottles of soju just as you head out the door.

You let out a breath when the crisp night air touches your skin; breath visible in the cold. As you exit through the gate, you notice Yunho's car is parked now, and you suddenly wonder what he's up to.

"It's a little nostalgic making this walk and sleeping in my room again." Wonwoo cuts in.

"Yeah, I know. I kinda miss those times. When we'd get home from school or head down to the convenience store with our friends before walking deeper into town."

"The simple days."

"Tell me about it." You chuckle, head pointed down as you continue the quiet walk with your brother. The door to the convenience store dings when it swings open, causing you to turn your attention back upwards.

You stop, and Wonwoo knits his brows at you when he sees you've stopped moving forward.

"Oh— Yunho." You pause in your steps when you see Yunho and his daughter come out of the same convenience store. A small smile tugs on the corner of your lips when you get a good look at how much she looks like her dad. She's got height to her, too. Makes sense she's an athlete. She's got dark brown hair, long. Eyes are brown, lashes are long. Her eyes and her nose are exactly her father's. She's dressed in a cute puffer jacket and flare leggings, Ugg slippers. Her dad is in a thick Essentials grey hoodie, jeans and brown Nikes. 

"Y/N, hey." He smiles. "Nice to see you."

"Grabbing ice cream after dinner?" You look at the ice cream in their hands.

"Before, actually." He shyly says before chuckling. "Haven't gotten to making dinner yet, we just got home not too long ago."

"Touché. All good. Can't go wrong with that, sometimes." You laugh a bit before turning to Wonwoo. "This is Wonwoo, my younger brother." 

"Hey." Wonwoo does a curt bow, which Yunho reciprocates. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too. This is my daughter, Seora."

"Hi." She smiles toothlessly as she sways from side to side, hand in a pocket while the other holds her ice cream cone.

"Hi Seora." You look at her with a soft smile while Wonwoo waves.

"They're Auntie Love and Uncle Po's kids."

"Cool. It's nice to finally put a face to it. Your parents talk about you alot. Like a lot! But we never see you around." She says.

"We just get busy, is all. But, you'll be seeing more of us from now on." Seora nods.

"Are you guys picking up some ice cream, too?"

"Yeah, and other snacks. Drinks for my dad." You chuckle.

"We're about to hang out in the backyard with our parents if you wanna join. Sure they wouldn't mind." Wonwoo adds with a shrug.

"Thanks, that's really nice of you guys. Don't wanna intrude, though. You should definitely take this time with your parents." Yunho responds.

"Well, I'm sure one of us will be knocking at your door with food tonight."

"I can look forward to that." Yunho laughs. "Anyway, we'll get going. Thanks again, and enjoy your goodies." His eyes land on you, and you can't help but feel the heat instantly rise to the surface of your cheeks. He doesn't break contact for awhile, which doesn't make it any easier for you. It isn't until Seora and Wonwoo start walking off that he finally breaks and gives you a tiny smile before following his daughter home.

"Aye." Wonwoo says when you reappear next to him again. "He seems nice. Is that the guy you were talking about? Mom and dad's neighbor that you work with?"

"Yeah, we're working together for the new department. It's also the same guy I almost spilled my coffee on."

"Damn. No wonder you were crying about it." He laughs. "I saw you two."

"Saw .. what?" Wonwoo clicks his teeth and gives you a look.

"Just looking at each other. That's what. Don't play dumb." He grabs the soju bottles for your dad and slips it into the basket.

"Oh. Jeez, that wasn't anything."

"Uh huh. Cause I stare people down on a daily basis the same way you two do."

"Wonwoo." You roll your eyes. "We barely know each other."

"And? Doesn't mean you won't, especially having to work so closely with him." He throws some of his favorite snacks into the basket, along with your favorite chips.

"Well, you know what, whatever happens, happens. Either way, I'm good. You know this."

"I feel that."

"Besides, I know Yunho is worried about his daughter more than anything. Wouldn't that be kinda weird to step into their life and disrupt their whole flow?" You head towards the ice cream. "I can imagine mom having a lot of shit to say about it."

"Dude, mom and dad love him and his daughter. He wouldn't have to do a damn thing to impress them." You laugh.

"Wishful thinking." You shake your head. "Anyway, let's not get ahead of ourselves." You look at him with both your favorite ice cream in hand. "Ready?"

"Yup." You and Wonwoo head to the counter, allowing your brother to [happily] pay for the snacks and drinks. He carries the bag in one hand while you both joke around in your usual sibling fashion until you head your mom's voice echoing in the street.

"My kids! They finally make an appearance! You met them, right? Seora, you've met my kids?! They finally took time to see us—" You watch as Yunho and Seora turn towards you, tupperwares already sitting in Yunho's hands.

"Mom, jeez. You're the loudest thing in this street." Your brother teases, making you laugh. "Airing out our business to the whole damn neighborhood."

⇢END

"I guess so. Even then, our parents will still find ways to rub it in our faces." You let out a small breath, pushing upwards as the line moves.

"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to. Call me nosey if you want." You cock a brow up as you meet his eyes again.

"Try me."

"Do you and your parents get along well?"

"I guess so. For the most part. We're just like any other family who fights every now and then. Why do you ask?"

"I— I just heard it in your voice that first Monday meeting we had. It just seemed a little deeper, is all. Wanted to see if you were okay."

"Wow, you remember that far back?"

"Well, to be fair, it wasn't that far back. But, yeah. I don't know. I picked up on the shift." You look down at your feet.

"It's really nothing deep. We just argue like any kids do with their parents. They set a lot of their expectations and wishes on us, even if it's not what me and Wonwoo want right now. Or, I guess to put it plainly, they've been putting a lot of pressure on us."

"Which is?"

"Well, you know. The usual settling down and having a family of our own. We have each other, but they still worry that no one else will help take care of us or support us in the long run."

"I know it can get frustrating, but I'm sure the underlying message is that they just wanna see you both happy and taken care of."

"Right, but we're happy with where we're at. We aren't are rushing, but they keep acting like time is running out."

"Hm." He hums again." I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I think we've gotten used to it, and we're both just trying to remember the more positive side of it like you mentioned."

"They care about you two deeply, that's all it is. Nothing about you two doing anything wrong."

"Yeah. I know." You give him a subtle toothless smile before shifting your attention to the front. You finally get to place your order, with Yunho suddenly jumping in right before you get a chance to whip out your card. He relays his order and taps his card against the reader to pay for both meals, walking away with a shit-eating smirk on his face as you follow him in disbelief. "Yunho!"

"What?" He laughs.

"Why'd you do that! You already got me coffee! Let me send you some money."

"No, I wanted to." You pout.

"Are you sure? I mean, the food was kinda pricey, I wanna send—"

"Y/N." He looks at you. "I promise it's fine. I wanted to, so let me, yeah?"

"Okay. Fine. But, I'll get you next time."

"Sure." You whine a bit to protest. The food is whipped up quick, with you and Yunho only waiting another 5 minutes until it's being handed over in a thick plastic bag. You spot your friends and his team members huddled at a table, waving you over to join them while they eat. You plop down next to Sian and Noeul, who have already started eating— to your surprise, Noeul opted for something different than what she was originally craving. The group is engaging in lively conversation, the boys asking a lot about how the pediatrics unit usually is or picking Noeul's brain with HR cases [sparing any sensitive details]. 

Its nice that you, Sian and Noeul are blending in easily.

Conversation comes easy, even when Yunho is looking at you the way he is from across the table.

In the next 45-mins, both Sian and Noeul run off to a meeting, with a few of Yunho's team members heading back up to tend to service tickets. Taehyun and Jihoon are the last few to bid their farewells before they're leaving you and Yunho alone.

"Let me walk you back."

"You don't have to."

"Y/N, what can I do? I can't pay for you, I can't buy you coffee, I can't walk you. God forbid." You laugh at his teasing and playfully push him aside.

"I just don't want you to do extra work when you'll probably have a shit ton of work to get back to."

"No biggie. I can handle it." You nod. "Did you enjoy your food?"

"Oh my god, yeah. It was so good. How about you?"

"Yeah, it was good. Anything else on your plate for today?"

"We shall see." You look down at the ground. Yunho is literally battling with himself right now, trying to figure out if he should keep asking you to lunch or if he should take the leap and ask if you wanna hang out outside of work hours. You don't break the silence for a good while either; it makes Yunho wonder if you were thinking about similar things, too. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Just kinda spaced out. Maybe the food coma is hitting me." You giggle, stopping at the side entrance of the pediatric hospital.

"Try to take it easy then, okay?" You look up at him and the sun hits you perfectly from where you're standing. You're having to shield your eyes and squint at him, and Yunho thinks it's adorable. He steps to the side to help block the sun rays, making you giggle even more at the use of his tall figure. "I guess I'll see you later?" You smile. "Thank you for walking me, Yunho. I feel kinda bad you have to trek back."

"Ah, can get my steps in." He shifts his weight and rocks back and forth on his feet while looking at you. "Lunch again tomorrow?"

"Sure, yeah."

"I'll text you." He smiles, watching as you nod and wave— shuffling over to the elevator. You give him one last goodbye before the elevator doors swallow you whole, leaving Yunho to his lonely trek back to his headquarters.

Should he have asked?

Would he lose anything by asking?

Is he being too much?

Do you even like him like that? What if it's just your personality to be that kind and sweet?

What if you're like that to everyone and he isn't any—

"Hey." His head turns upwards to see Ara coming out of the hospital. 

"Oh, hey." 

"Coming back from lunch?"

"Yeah." She nods quietly.

"I see you've been hanging out." Yunho furrows his brows at Ara. She nods towards the pediatrics hospital and he follows her gaze before returning his attention to her.

"Oh. We're working together on the new unit and she's the bridge from the pediatric end. We just meet weekly about updates." She nods slowly, silently.

"Over lunch, too?" Yunho tilts his head to the side. "You seem like you get along well with her."

"Yeah." Yunho pauses a bit. "We're chill."

"That was fast."

"Ara." He calls her name with slight disappointment in his tone. One, he's a little appalled she'd jump to conclusions so quickly. But two, most importantly, he understands why she would be frustrated but who was he to force feelings? He simply didn't feel the same way she did and he's genuinely sorry about it. He tried to bring her down gently and he still stands by what he said— he doesn't think he'd be ready to take on a super serious relationship right away if anything were to evolve.

He'd need to take his time and build his trust, his comfort.

And he just couldn't see that with her.

"All good!" She laughs it off. "Glad you're happy." She nods before brushing him off completely. "Anyway, I gotta run to eat before I do my rounds. See you around!" She flies right on by without giving Yunho any more time. He sighs heavily to himself, mumbling a low 'shit' as he turns on his heel.

"What was that about?" Seonghwa has his hands dug into his pockets as he points his lips behind Yunho.

"A whole misunderstanding."

"That, or she's just hurt." Seonghwa chuckles a bit. "Was it the whole lunch thing? Lunches, I guess. Lunches, meetings, coffee dates, whatever." Seonghwa corrects himself.

"Sure, yeah. Guess you could say that."

"She'll be okay."

"Where the hell were you, anyway? I tried texting you but you didn't respond."

"I went to go see Yoori." Yunho slowly nods.

"Ah. Got it." Seonghwa chuckles and shakes his head.

"Then I got caught up with some people in the lobby. How was the food truck event?"

"Good, they actually had some really good trucks posted there today."

"Damn. It's okay. Next time."

"Yeah, I'm sure your time with Yoori was eventful, anyway."

"Fuck off. Y/N came?" It's no secret that Yunho had already mentioned you to Seonghwa and Mingi at this point. Not only because you two were meeting frequently, but because he started to open up to his bestfriends about how comfortable you made him feel and how he had been interested in possibly exploring things further. They know what Yunho is like when he genuinely has feelings for someone and is deeply interested, and this is it. The constant messaging, down to meet up during the work day without question, dusting off the Instagram page to catch each other's attention— it feels like forever since they've seen Yunho gush over someone the way he had been doing with you.

They're glad, though.

They hope this takes off properly.

They hope it all works out well.

"Sure did."

"How was that?"

"Good." Yunho smiles a bit to himself.

"When am I gonna meet her?"

"Well you could've if you weren't so busy tending to your needs." Seonghwa clicks his teeth.

"She looked cute."

"She is cute."

"Okay, maybe you do move on fast." He jokes. 

"Correction." Yunho looks at him. "I put myself out there and gave it a shot with Ara just like all you assholes told me to and it didn't work out. Sorry." He shrugs. "I don't know what you want me to say." Seonghwa laughs.

"I'm just teasing. I know, I know. And that's fair. I can't blame you." There's a small silence before Seonghwa breaks the air again. "Well, it seems like you and Y/N are getting along more and more every day. It's nice to see."

"Yeah, we are. It's nice having her around and working with her on all these things."

"When are you gonna ask her out?"

"That's a good question." Yunho kicks at the ground below his feet before shrugging. "Am I?"

"Yeah? Absolutely."

"I don't know. I'm kinda shy to after the whole Ara thing."

"Well again, to be fair, that was you testing the waters. This is slightly different since you both are genuinely interested in each other."

"I dunno if she is."

"Quit that shit, okay? If she wasn't, she wouldn't be wasting time on your ass." Yunho sighs. 

"I should've asked her while she was with me earlier."

"You can always text her if you can't wait."

"I don't wanna be lame, though."

"You're not! It's all in the beginning stages, you're not gonna have everything down perfectly no matter how hard you try."

"I guess so. I'll think about it tonight."

"Don't lose out on it." Yunho licks his lips, interrupted by the notifications blaring through his phone. He sees a few urgent issues coming up, causing him to rub at the back of his neck before groaning and tucking his phone back into his pocket.

"Anyway, gotta run. Got some shit to take care of. I'll talk to you later."

"Don't text or call me unless you have good news to share."

"Fuck you." Yunho mouths out before doing a light jog towards the old hospital to take care of business with Taehyun.

"I mean it!" Seonghwa says loudly before walking towards the café for more coffee.

As the day goes on, both you and Yunho end up getting swamped with tasks here and there— the both of you leaving work a little later than your end times. You swing by the store to grab a few more groceries needed for dinner, while Yunho gets home and quickly showers to prep dinner for him and Seora. Although you had been busy, you had been wondering what Yunho was up to and vice versa.

Yunho, especially.

He manages to whip up some spaghetti, having a good, hearty conversation with his daughter about how school and practice went today. Yunho listens attentively when she complains about her teacher assigning a report due at the end of the week, listens attentively when she talks about a new play their coach pulled out during practice. He listens attentively to all the little quirks and details of her day, exchanging his own when she asks how work was and if he enjoyed the food trucks that came by.

Even throughout all of that, a part of him is still stuck on you.

You.

Torn and getting pulled in all different directions.

Bedtime comes and .. he still hasn't decided. All this internal back and forth is starting to make Yunho feel frustrated because of Ara, because of Eunha— because he thinks he just can't get past losing someone else, or not finding someone who could be a fit for him, his daughter.

He's scared.

He's scared he'll never get to experience that ever again, and if he does, it'll probably just get taken away from him.

Again.

That's why he hesitates. He's not sure if he has it in him, but at the same time, he knows he has to get past this. He has to try, and he has to stop assuming they'll all end badly in one way or another.

"Fuck." He mumbles to himself as he slightly sits back up, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. 

Should he wait? It's getting late.

He watches the minutes pass him by before he pulls up your number and begins to type away, thinking of some kinda excuse to pull himself outta this shit before it's too late.

But, he can't help it. He wants to text you.

Fuck it.

yunho: hey! sorry for the late text. hope i'm not bothering you.

Your eyes dart to your phone sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter while you continue to massage your night cream into your face, slowing your motions and smiling to yourself when you see who has finally put your number to use outside of work hours. You massage the remaining cream down to your neck before picking up your phone to respond.

you: hey you! you're not a bother. ☺️

yunho: oh, you're awake?!

you: i don't sleep that early! haha.

yunho: idk you said you fall asleep at like 8pm. lol

you: i said sometimes i'm in bed by 8pm but i don't fall asleep until later! i just get lazy and don't wanna do anything at the end of the day. lol

yunho: okay fine, fair enough! i'll let it pass.

you: please, hahaha

yunho: soooo .. this is kinda lame and i should've done it earlier but i was shy about it 😭 

yunho: but, by any chance, do you wanna grab dinner and kick it at the end of the week? no pressure or anything.

you: not lame! lol. i'd love to, yunho. ☺️ sounds fun!

yunho: really? 😀 cooooool. let me plan and think of a few things we could do.

you: sounds good w/ me!

yunho: i'll let you get to bed. see you tomorrow? 

you: mhm, mhm! goodnight. 😌

yunho: goodnight y/n, sweet dreams.

You bite onto your bottom lip as you giggle to yourself and grab your lip mask before happily waddling to bed. You let out a squeal against your pillow, instantly texting Sian and Noeul about what just transpired.

The end of the week couldn't come any quicker.

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[impish-baby]

A few glimpses into 'both arms cradle you now' reader's childhood in no particular order

"Why do birds suddenly appear evertime you are near.." The wet tears running down your cheeks are gently brushed away, whatever nightmare plaguing your sleep seems so far away now that your dad is here. "Just like me, they long to be close to you.." Damien hoists you into his arms, still humming that familiar lullaby as he carries you to the kitchen.

"Why do stars fall from the sky every time you walk by.." You're set on top of the counter, Damien ruffling your hair softly before walking over to the fridge to fetch a carton of milk. "Just like me.. they long to be.. close to you.." The warm glow of the stove makes the quiet night more cozy, the shadows along the walls retreating as well as any lingering fear.

You can feel you eyes start to droop, a small yawn leaving your lips making the man chuckle fondly. "One sec, ok? Daddy has some angel milk for you so you don't have anymore bad dreams, then we'll get you tucked back into bed."

-

"Do you want to hold him, sweetie?" Not really, but a nudge to your shoulder has you taking a reluctant step forward anyway. You're not sure how to feel about him, he's your dad's but not your mom's.

Mary scoots over a little so you can climb up on the hospital bed next to her, a tired but kind smile on her face. "Here, it's ok, you just need to make sure you're supporting his head.." She helps guide your arms into the right position, placing the tiny buddle into them, a pair of equally tiny disgruntled blue eyes soon staring up at you.

When you were first told that your stepmom was pregnant, you tried really really hard to just be happy for them. You promise. The sinking dread never went away though, no matter how much you berated yourself for feeling that way.

Babies are a blessing, but the announcement only cemented the fact that the world as you knew it was ending. Your dad isn't just your dad anymore. Even then, he hasn't acted like one to you in a while. Maybe you were just denying the inevitable.

"Ohh, I think he likes you.." Mary's head rests on your shoulder suddenly, distracting you from your sullen thoughts. "See? You're a natural with little ones!"

"He's glaring at me.."

She laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as she sits up. "No, he's just getting used to the world, darling. He loves you, he knows he has the best older sibling he could ask for."

-

"What's even the point?" You're both supposed to be sleeping even though it isn't a school night, Aunt Lisa is strict when it comes to things like that. What she doesn't know won't hurt her though.

"Because they look cool," Avery shrugs, carful of the fact you're currently snuggled under one of his arms. "And you get bragging points for catching them." You still don't get it, they're the same thing just a different color. "You've watched me play for like an hour, and now you're bored?"

"You were actually doing stuff before.." You huff, "You've been going around in a circle for fifteen minutes."

You scoff at his comment, now filled with spite to actually beat the game. You've barely moved an inch before the battle music plays, a black and purple pumpkaboo greeting you. "Oh, um..

"I

Well, excuse me," Avery sniffs playfully, "You play since I'm not entertaining enough." The console is handed over to you, the older boy simply holding you closer. "I bet you lose the first match you try."

"Huh?" Avery sighs, quickly pouting when he looks back at the screen. "Seriously? Damm, you're lucky." He pokes your cheek, "You catch it for me and I'll buy you some fries tomorrow."

-

"You're so annoying!"

With how hard you hit the ground, you know you're going to bruise. You weren't even talking, you just wanted to hang out with them.

"Seriously, who even wanted you to come over? I sure didn't!" No matter what you do, Lizzie doesn't like you. Doesn't matter if you're as friendly as can be or give her some space, you're always doing something wrong. "You're wasting good air, you know?"

"M' sorry, didn't mean to bother you." You won't cry, you're too old for that. "Liz-"

"You didn't mean to? Yeah, right!" Lizzie scoffs, kicking dirt into your face. Dust immediately stings your eyes. "You're a pest! No wonder everyone calls you bug, you're clingy like a tick, a parasite."

Your feeble attempt to rub the dirt away isn't really helping, you can barely hold your eyes open enough to look up at her. Miles isn't going to do anything to help either, silently supporting his sister.

"No wonder your dad left you! And your mom, she must be insufferable if you're her kid-"

You don't know when you managed to get up on your feet or when you grabbed a handful of Lizzie's hair. On the bright side, it makes her shut up.

"Hey!"

Your dad emerges from the house, miles trailing behind him. Of course.

"What has gotten into you?" You've let the older girl go at this point, she wasn't even crying until he came outside.

"Ow, dad.." Lizzie hides behind Damien, flashing you a smirk. "I wasn't even doing anything and they decided to be mean.."

Any inking of doubt you had evaporates in an instant. You don't have a dad anymore, you haven't in years.

"God.." He crosses his arms, the stern look would have made you wince if you weren't already shaking. "Don't even try to give me any excuses, Miles told me what happened. You can wait out here for your mom to pick you up since you can't behave yourself. I thought you knew better."

-

"Can you at least try to eat half, please?"

Your plate sits almost entirely untouched, having just been picked at over the course of dinner. Your mom's worried frown won't leave her face. "You're still a growing kid, I don't like how many meals you've tried to skip."

"I'm not hungry." You really aren't, there's always a nauseous feeling in your gut these days. "I'll eat a snack later, don't worry, mom."

"Baby.." She pinches the bridge of her nose and you feel a pang of guilt for how stressed she must be. "Please? For mommy? Or at least talk to me about what's going on.. i- it hurts seeing you so sad all the time."

What are you supposed to say to that?

Against your will, there's tears starting to drip down your cheeks. You don't think you've ever seen the women move so fast, her chair clattering to the floor in her rush to go to your side. "Oh, my baby.."

"I- I'm sorry.." For what you don't know, maybe the fact that she's stuck with you. "I- I'm so sorry, mom-"

"Oh, hush.." You're too big for her to carry, you both know, but she still scoops you into her arms. "There's nothing in the world you need to apologize to me for."

You sniffle, tucking your head under her chin. "I- I don't want to see dad anymore.. or.. or hear about him or-"

"Shhh.." She runs a hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you, "you don't have to, alright? We'll figure it out. If that's what you want, you won't ever have to see him again."

(a/n: some ramblings while I start writing the second part to the series..reader will continue to go through it)

[blossoms-phan]

you don’t have to post if it’s like something that’s not talked about but I don’t know much about dan and phil’s personal life or what they have shared and I was wondering if dan was raised by his grandma? just cause out of everyone in his family she’s the only one that he mentions with regularity and fondness

hi! it has been talked about before a lot in past years (i just fell down a rabbit hole of some peoples tags before answering this lol), and disclaimer- family relationships are complicated and nuanced, i don’t claim to know the specifics of dan’s relationship with his family other than what he’s told us. but generally speaking, dan talks about his grandma (maternal) most often and with fondness because he has a really strong bond with her, and though i don’t know if i would necessarily say he was raised by her solely, he definitely spent a lot of his childhood with her. dan has spoken about his parents not necessarily being very present/supportive when he was younger, which isn’t to say they weren’t there to like, be his parents but to my knowledge they both worked a lot and he’s talked about calling his grandma on the phone or going to her house after school and things like that. there’s a lot to unpack as far as dan’s family goes if im being so honest but dan definitely fits into that category of “oldest daughter/girls who were raised by their grandma”