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godmadeaterribleerror · 3 days ago

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Hold Me (More Like That)

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, fluff, pre-established relationship, lotta smut (oral m! receiving, p in v sex)

Summary/Warnings: Dean takes a second to pick up on what you want, but doesn't disappoint once he starts to play your game.

Author's Note: Sorta request from an anon! I wanna be thrown around so bad you guys don't even know.

Word Count: 3.3k

“I bet I could beat you in a fight.”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“I could.” You push up on Dean’s chest, glaring at him in the shifting light of the TV. “You don’t believe in me.”

A small smile plays on Dean’s lips, but he doesn’t look away from the movie. “Never said that. I’m pretty damn sure I agreed with you-“

“Yeah, but you said sure.” You drop your tone to mimic his, and that gets his attention. “That’s how you say sure when you don’t really agree, Dean, I know you-“

“Alright.” Dean catches your finger as you poke his chest. “I don’t think you could beat me in a fight, baby. You win.”

You whack his chest, and his grin only grows.

“That what you wanted to hear?”

“You know it’s not-“

“Then you want me to keep lyin’?”

You roll your eyes at him. “No, I want you to admit I’d beat you.”

“Okay.” Dean shrugs, kissing your knuckles before turning back to the TV. “You’d beat me. You’d kick my ass, Sammy would have to drive me to the hospital, and- Oof-“

You’d climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and bracing your hands on his shoulders. Dean raises his brows with a half amused, half befuddled expression, and his hands fly to your hips in half a second.

He could push you off—easily, too—but he won’t.

You really want him to.

“I bet I could beat you.” You lean down until your noses are almost bumping. “In a fight.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” Dean hums your name, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing small circles on the bare skin under your shirt. “What’re you doing?”

You shrug. “Trying to make you take me seriously.”

“I always take you seriously-“

“No. You don’t think I could beat you.”

For a man you know looks for any reason to jump your bones—you’ve seen him walk you back against a wall because the wind blew up your skirt, and he needs to check you’re okay—Dean is impressively confused about what’s happening. He just keeps looking at you in confusion, holding you firm enough by your hips you know he’s not going to take your bait and toss you around. You’re going to have to step it up.

You love him. He’s adorable and sweet and trying really hard to be a good boyfriend, to the point that you feel sort of bad about what’s about to happen, but you’ll get over it. Call it vengeance for when he tried to prove he could change a tire faster than you could, and it was just an excuse to fuck you on the hood of the car.

“C’mon.” You drag his hands off your hips, pinning them to the couch, and he doesn’t fight you at all. “I can win, Dean.”

“Yeah, you could-“

“Stop agreeing with me-“

He snorts, putting on a weak, mock show of trying to push out of your grip, but mostly just flexing his arms and making the heat in your core spark. “Look, sweetheart, you’re stronger-“

“I didn’t say I was stronger,” you grind down onto him, disguising it as a just a shift of your body, and Dean’s jaw twitches slightly. “I said I could beat you.”

You grind again, and he lets out a long, slow breath.

Progress.

“You want the truth, baby?” He gives you a pointed look, still not struggling against you, and you nod.

“I could-“

“No, you couldn’t.” Dean shrugs, and to sort of obviously prove his point, pushes just one hand out of your hold to wrap around your waist. “Not ‘cause I don’t think you’re strong, or smart, or sexy as fuck when you kick ass. But I would beat you. I’ve beaten Sam, and he’s a fuckin’ Sasquatch. It’s my freakin’ job-“

“It’s my job, too-“

“It’s your job when we’re real short on hands.” Dean eyes narrow, and that was the right button. He doesn’t like the maybe you should hunt more conversation. “And we’re not.”

You raise your brows. “So I couldn’t beat you because I don’t hunt?”

“Yes- No-“ He sighs, hauling you a little further up his chest. “You just couldn’t beat me, baby, I promise-“

“Prove it.”

Dean frowns at you. “What?”

“If you think I can’t beat you.” You grab his arm around you—he lets you move it again, but that’s fine, you don’t actually care about winning—and pin it back down. “Then prove it.”

“I’m not gonna fight you, sweetheart-“

You shrug. “Then I win. And if I can beat Dean Winchester in a fight, maybe I should hunt more-“

That does it. Your words turn into a yelp as Dean flips you over like it’s nothing, pinning your hands over your head and pressing his hips down to keep you pinned to the couch. You have to take a quick breath to stop from caving right away, but you can see his muscles rippling through his shirt and his eyes shamelessly scanning your form below him, and he’s half-hard already and pressed right into your thigh-

“I don’t know what goin’ on with you.” His voice is a half growl, and the sound almost vibrates through your body. “But I can beat you, babygirl. And you fuckin’ hate hunting-“

“Maybe I just miss you when you’re gone,” you challenge, hooking your leg around him and flipping him back over with a grunt. “You always leave me, De, and I get lonely-“

He snorts, standing up with you almost thrown over his should. “I call you every day, smartass, and I never hear you complaining when you cum from just me talkin’ to you.”

“Not the- fuck-“ You’re trying to squirm away as he walks through the halls of the bunker—the movie long forgotten—but it’s not working in your favor. “It’s not the same-“

“Then you can come on a few hunts and stay in the hotel.”

He needs to stop being so rational and sweet. “No, I want to hunt-“

“No, you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Dean-“

You squeak as he drops you onto the mattress, standing over you with a glower.

“You don’t want to hunt,” he grunts your name, grabbing your face between his hands with an adoring, vaguely annoyed expression. “You hate it, you always get mad about blood on your clothing- Hell, you get pissed about blood on my clothing-“

“I’m over it.” You lie quickly, and throw all your weight into pulling Dean down. He lands on the mattress with a grunt, and you crawl back on top of him with a grin. “I can beat you, Dean. You haven’t proven I can’t.”

He shakes his head. “I told you I’m not fighting you, sweetheart-“

“Cause you’ll lose.”

“I-“ His eyes narrow on yours, right as you wiggle slightly, and you know that expression.

You won.

“If I beat you, you drop the hunting thing.”

You nod quickly, and don’t even get the chance to say deal before Dean’s moving. He flips your back over with practiced ease, and he probably could’ve won right there, but you’re determined to put on a mock show. So when his hand go to pin both of yours, you worm then against his chest and shove right into his gut. It catches him off guard, just enough for you to roll away and scramble up onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Dean grunts, and rises up on his knees before dropping onto his side, just enough to knock the wind slightly out of your chest, and pry you off his neck. You try to roll away, but he’s—somehow—faster, and catches you by the waist, hauling you right up into his lap and pinning your arms behind your back with one hand, the other grabbing your jaw to keep your gaze trapped on his.

And you’ve lost. It was only a few seconds of fighting, but you lost dramatically.

In Dean’s eyes, at least, you lost.

But you feel a little high, right now. Dean’s big and warm and all around you, touching you everywhere with his chest pressed right against your breasts and his legs wrapped around you to keep you pinned to him. There’s a building, almost mind-numbing ache for him between your thighs, and you can feel his muscles every time he shifts, and he barely out of breath but you’re a giggling, needy mess his arms, and-

You can see the exact moment it hits him. He blinks at you for a second, his grip tightening on your jaw just enough to pull out a tiny, soft moan, and his cock twitches against your leg.

“You’re fucking-“ He cuts himself off with a groan and shake of his head. “Son of a bitch, sweetheart, if you wanted to be fucked, you coulda told me.”

You shake your head, still beaming at him like an idiot. “Better when you mean it. I- I wanna feel you, Dean, please-“

“Please, what?” He hums, squeezing your jaw again, right as he thrusts up against your clothed cunt. “Please fuck you? Toss you around? Or should I make you wait, for giving me a damn heart attack about hunting?”

You flush, and shake your head. “I’m sorry, I just- You weren’t getting it and I- I wanted-“

“I know what you wanted.” Dean shrugs, grinning down at you. “You wanted me to touch you, didn’t you.”

You nod desperately, and he’s so close. His lips brushing over yours, his grip on you tight and perfect and god-

“You wanna touch me, babygirl?” His question is a low, teasing hum, his hips jerking up again to make sure you can feel how hard he is, and a high, needy moan escapes your lips.

“Dean, please-“

He shakes his head, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Answer the question, sweetheart-“

“Yes- I do, I need it-“

“Yeah, you do.” He mutters, his hand on your jaw dragging down to rest lightly on your throat. “Lie down.”

You scramble back the second Dean lets go of you, settling into the pillows and giving him your prettiest, most hopeful doe-eyed look. He just chuckles, peeling his shirt and jeans at a painfully slow speed, and gives you a pointed expression. He doesn’t have to say it aloud to know what he’s asking. You know him well enough.

“Not those,” he grunts when you go for your panties, the rest of your clothing now discarded onto the floor. “Wanna rip them off you.”

You sigh, pouting up at him, and it hard not to get dizzy from his attention—standing at the edge of the bed, all strength and softness, stroking his cock to the sight of you below him—but you manage. “You always rip them off of me, Dean, I’m going to run out of underwear-“

“Good.” He mutters, starting to prowl over you with an almost feral grin, and you roll your eyes.

“Dean-“

“Don’t worry, baby.” He hums, and your protests about the panties die in your throat as he stops right over you, pressing his thick cock right on your lower lip. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

You hum, blinking hopefully up at him as you open your mouth, and he nods. Dean’s hand tangles in your hair as he slides into your mouth, and you moan shamelessly around him, making his hips jerk and his dick press right against the back of your throat.

“Fuck,” Dean groans your name, and you suck on him, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he pulls slightly out. “You’re gonna choke, you can’t- Shit-“

It’s too easy to whine and run your tongue up his shaft, and he ruts into your mouth with a groan.

“God- You’re-“ He glares down at you, and you return it with an innocent expression. “You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

You just blink at him sweetly, grabbing his thighs, and trying to guide him deeper into your mouth, and his brows raise, his voice suddenly a slight rasp.

“More, baby?”

You hum, already grinding into the sheets from the feeling of him heavy in your mouth and the intensity of his gaze, and Dean groans.

“You gotta stop me if it’s too much-“ You swallow around him, and his words turn into a loud moan that goes straight between your legs.

The leash Dean’s been keeping on his movements snaps, and your eyes roll back in your head with pleasure as he starts to fuck your mouth. You can feel his gaze as the lewd sounds of his balls slapping your chin and his cock sliding in and out of your lips fills the room. Your nails are digging into his thighs, and your breathing is heavy through your nose, but it feels so good.

There’s all the power of him over you, making you lightheaded and your pussy start to clench around nothing every time he groans your name. You can taste the salt of his precum on your tongue whenever you manage to flick it over the head of him, and when you whimper around him, he always pulls all the way out before slamming back it and groaning your name.

He’s getting close. You can feel it in the growing sloppiness of his thrusts and the tightness of his grip on your hair. So you double your effort and start to suck him off best you can, but all you can really remember how to do is wiggle and moan-

Dean pulls aways with groan, and your eyes flutter open to see him looking down at you with borderline wonder, his arm braced on the headboard above you and his chest heaving.

“You’re too good at that.” He mutters, moving his hand from your hair to wipe a little bit of drool over your cheek. “Almost came in your mouth, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth again, sticking your tongue out, and he groans, leaning back with a shake of his head.

“Need to fuck you,” he grunts, shifting so your caged below his arms, his brow pressed against yours. “I’m gonna make you cum ‘till you can’t walk, baby. That sound good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, spreading your legs as wide as you can. “Good. Touch me, Dean, I- I need you-“

“I know you do.” Rough, warm fingers dance on your panties, teasing on your inner thigh for a second before ripping them away, and running over your pussy. “So fucking wet for me, babygirl, need it that bad?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yes, please-“

Dean cuts you off with a long, sloppy kiss, and you gasp his name into his mouth, grinding onto the palm of his hand in chance of any relief.

“You wanna try and wrestle again?” He hums, rubbing his hand right over your clit. “Or you gonna let me take care of my girl.”

“Take care.” Your voice is barely a breath, but you might fly out of your mind if he doesn’t really, properly fuck you. “Dean, your cock, I need it-“

His hand moves away, but you don’t get a moment to complain before Dean’s shoving himself into you with one rough movement, and your back is arching off the bed.

“That’s right, baby.” His voice is a teasing coo, but you don’t really care. He’s earned it, and it feels so good, being filled up and split open with him all over you and kissing up your neck- “You’re so fuckin’ tight, son of a bitch-“

“Dean.” You gasp, and his mouth crashes back over yours, kissing you into the pillows until you’re limp in his arms, only fluttering desperately around his cock. “Move-“

He groans into your mouth, and your breath hitches in your throat as he slams into you. You wrap your arms around him tight enough to strangle him, just he doesn’t even flinch, just moaning your name and repeating the movement once more. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, then starts to fuck you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

Sometimes, Dean likes to sit up and watch you come apart below him, or flip you over and fuck you into the mattress. But he knows what you need right now is to just keep feeling him, everywhere, and he’s perfect so that’s exactly what he gives you. Almost holding you off the mattress like it’s nothing, fucking into your pussy with a feverish pace, until your head is falling back with pleasure as he hits that deep, painfully needy spot deep inside you.

His lips attach to your throat, biting and sucking small marks that make your mouth fall open in a silent scream, and your start to grind onto him. Trying to get your clit to rub on his abdomen, because you’re so fucking close-

Dean grabs your ankles, shifting your around below him without ever breaking pace, and only once you’re securely hanging off his body does his arm wrap around your waist and-

You spasm as his fingers find your clit and start to rub tight, firm circles, and you cum with a scream of his name. He just groans, fucking into you harder as you spasm around his cock, and you’re not coming down. Dean pushes your back down onto the mattress, slams his lips back over yours and angling your hips further up, and you stare up at him as he just keeps fucking you. Your orgasm crests into another one, and there’s a strange, new heat building in your core that’s hot and tight, and-

Dean slams hip hips at the right angle to almost bruise your g-spot, right as his fingers on your clit pinch, and your body goes loose as the coil snaps. Something wet is gushing out of you and running between your legs, and Dean’s jaw is clenched as he drops his brow to yours, his eyes fluttering as he tenses over you.

“Dean.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair. “Please. On me.”

He stares at you for barely a second before giving a tight nod, and sitting up on his knees. He pulls out with his hand braced on your hip, and it’s a beautiful sight. Dean beating his cock into his hand at the sight of you wrecked and fucked out, thick white cum shooting over your stomach and cunt as he cums with a moan of your name.

He collapses over you with a grunt, and you hum happily, your fingers shooting into his hair.

“That what you wanted, baby?” He hums into your ear, and you nod.

“Perfect. Thank you, my love.”

He grunts as your kiss the side of his head, shifting down to bury his face between your breasts.

“Love you too.” He grumbles, wrapping his around your body, and you beam up at the ceiling. “Even when you play dumb tricks.”

“I think you liked that trick.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. But next time, just freakin’ ask me to fuck you stupid.”

You hum. “Dean?”

He grunts, and you tug on his hair, forcing his gaze up to yours.

“Can you fuck me stupid.”

His lips twitch and he grabs your hand, turning it to press a kiss to your palm. “Jesus, sweetheart-“

“Please?” You flutter your lashes at him, and he sighs.

“Gimme ten. In the shower?”

You give him an amused look. “You just wanna cum on me again.”

“Yep.” He grins up at you. “You love it.”

“I do.” You mumble. “But you like it when I play dumb tricks.”

He rolls his eyes, but hauls your upright, standing with you cradled in his arms and a kiss to the side of your head. “Yeah, sweetheart. But I think I just like you.”

End Note: It's probably good for my productiveness that Dean isn't real. I'd never get anything done again.

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returntosunder · 1 day ago

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HAII IT'S ME THE HEARTTALE PERSON IM STILL WORKING ON IT I PROMISEE

BUT I HAVE A POTENTIAL ART REQUEST MAYBE? Inkmare,,,?

I've never seen you draw them before I don't think, so I would love to see them act all cute in your art style!!!/nf

Also small headcanon: Since iirc Nm hates Cats, I have a feeling he has more personality traits to a dog, or more like a lone wolf- while Ink on the other hand has total cat behavior and uses them to either get Nightmare's attention (pets) or annoy him while he works (like stretching his arms in front of him), bonus, his tentacles wag when excited/happy, even if he doesn't show it, his tentacles rat him out

And bc of that, Ink probably started calling him "Puppy" and he fucking Hates it because it makes him get all blushy and embarrassed, but he never stops him because he can't admit he kind of doesn't mind-

Ima be honest... I had two of these sketched a while back ago ^^'

This ask made me color them. Tho the third one was inspired by a different ask and yours with the tentacle wagging ^^

I really like Inkmare <3

Spot the difference

#i just realized i like shipping both my favorite characters together #THEY'RE SILLY AND CUTE OK!#The size difference makes me laugh #utmv #undertale au #sunders asks #my art #au undertale #ink sans #ink!sans #nightmare sans #nightmare!sans #nightmare dreamtale #inktale sans #inkmare #inkmare art #IVE BEEN DOODLING THEM FOR A MONTH ALREADY #I JUST DONT POST THOS SKETCHES

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jj-one · 2 days ago

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i’m having thoughts that desperately need sharing

who in skz would most likely love an inexperienced partner because they would loveeee the idea of teaching them everything and guiding them through their first time?

i have had these thoughts for so long now and i need somebody to share my delulu with 😛

you’ve come to the right place bestie, let’s be delusional together 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i feel like chan, minho, & seungmin would absolutely love the idea of having an inexperienced partner the most but i’m not opposed to the idea of all the members being into it. here’s my little list that i compiled hehe <3

chan:

he’s too fucking gentle with you at first, like he treats you as if you’re some delicate flower and is hesitant on corrupting your innocence— especially when it comes to fucking you bc he suffers from big dick syndrome and doesn’t wanna hurt you </3 but once he knows you wanna be taught, it’s game over. he’s the world’s biggest tease so ofc he loves pressing the head of his cock against your untouched folds, not entering, just showing you what’s coming. makes you say “please” until you’re crying. he gets off on having all the control, dragging you down his filthy little rabbit hole with soft praises and unbearable pressure. he wants to be the only one who’s touched you. every gasped whimper, every flutter of your pussy around him as he pushes in for the first time, he memorizes it all. his strokes are always agonizingly slow, deep, claiming, but the more you both get into it the more rough he’d get, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s nothing to him.

“you already came twice baby, i know you’ve got one more left in you.”

minho:

pretends that he doesn’t care (spoiler: he 100% does), he jerks off to the idea of being your first more than he’d admit. especially when you’re looking up at him with those big, doey eyes, lip trembling, legs spread but uncertain— he makes you say it, “i don’t know what i’m doing.” you’ve told him that you’ve never watched porn before and have rarely ever touched yourself, you were a novice, but that’s what he’s here for, to teach you the ropes ! he corrupts you deliberately, one filthy lesson at a time. first lesson? how to suck him off. second? riding until your thighs give out. third? letting him film you crying around his cock. he’s now become fully obsessed with stripping you of your purity, shaping you into the perfect little slut just for him. can’t help but smirk as you beg for more, knowing he’s the reason for turning you into this.

“look at you— used to be so innocent. now you’re drooling on my cock like it’s all you’ve ever known. and it is, isn’t it? ‘cause i made you this way.”

seungmin:

is completely deadpan. quiet, yet dangerous. he acts unimpressed until you’re crying from just taking his fingers. then he’s leans close, voice low, and says, “you really don’t know a thing, do you?” he thrives off being the one to show you. the only one. has you arching off the sheets just from his mouth with the most smug look on his face at how easily you come apart. he doesn’t just teach, he literally reprograms you. makes sure no one else will ever satisfy you again. just watches with dark eyes as you stammer through every new sensation, feeling so overwhelmed and desperate, too shy to even say his name without whimpering ;( makes you go crazy from the way he touches you slowly, taking his sweet sweet time with you like he’s got all day bc if he’s gonna ruin you, he’s gonna relish in it. calls it “training” when he makes you practice sucking him off until your throat burns, when he fingers you for hours just to watch your mind melt from how overstimulated you are. records you babbling nonsense while your legs shake as proof that you belong to him now; have you crying, clinging to him, begging to cum again.

“good girl. you’ll take whatever i give you, yeah? ‘cause i’m the only one who knows what you need.”

changbin:

he’s your coach, absolutely loves teaching !! makes it interactive. pushes two fingers into your sopping cunt and says, “now clench. hold it. yeah, like that.” he takes utmost pride in watching you learn, fucking you in different positions until you find the one that makes you scream. makes you cum over and over again just so you understand your body better. he’s so proud of the mess he makes out of you <3 talks you through it like he’s guiding a workout— except you’re trembling, soaked, tears streaming down your cheeks bc it’s soso much but he’s still not done. makes you mirror everything he does when he eats you out, wants to hear you use your big girl words and tell him what it feels like. spreads your thighs wider with every session, the pad of his thumb circling your clit nice n slow just to watch you squirm from the simplest touches. he gets off on your innocence, gets harder every time you ask, “is this okay..?” bc it means there’s still more to ruin. makes you sit in his lap and bounce until your legs give out from shaking and your voice breaks from how many times you’ve begged. he won’t stop until your body responds to only him, trained and wrecked to perfection, even when you’re dazed, drooling, and completely fucked out.

“told you i’d make a good girl outta you, we’re just getting started.”

hyunjin:

sensual, slow, & obsessed. he calls you “innocent” like it’s your name. thinks it’s the cutest shit ever how shy you get when he’s got your legs sprawled and whispers where everything is. fingers you while describing in grave detail how he’ll fuck you and makes you repeat it back to him. “say it, baby. tell me what i taught you.” he corrupts you with elegance, artful degradation, slow-melting kisses between instruction. every night becoming another slowburn chapter in your ruin. he memorizes every little reaction, every gasp, every twitch, every time your breath catches when his lips brush your ear. he keeps you perched prettily on his cock, producing slow, diluted strokes at first, watching your brows pinch and your thighs quiver, whispering all the dirty shit he wants to do to you in a reverent tone like he’s reading poetry. paints bruises down your throat like he’s leaving his signature. tells you what a masterpiece you’ve become under his hands. won’t let you cover your face when you start to cry, he wants to witness it all. wants to see beg with those soft, needy whines that he loves as he holds your hips still and fucks you through another orgasm, praising how well you’re taking it, how much you’ve changed, won’t stop ‘til you’re boneless and spent, tear-streaked and writhing in his arms.

“you used to blush when i kissed you, but now look at you, ruined and addicted. all mine.”

jisung:

he lives for the fact that he’s your first. the way your whole body shudders just from him breathing on your cunt. how every moan you let out sounds like pure heaven to him— raw, unsure, and desperate. he’s obsessed with how new you are to everything, fingers soaked from just teaching you how to grind properly. “good girl, just like that- fuck, you’re learning so fast.” he craves to taint your innocence than anything else, saying all types of nasty shit as he makes you beg to cum for the first time. he corrupts you sweetly, patiently; until you’re reduced to nothing but a cockdrunk and clingy mess. he likes it best when you’re shy about wanting more, when you squirm under his gaze and whisper that something feels weird, and he has to gently coax you through it, telling you it’s completely normal. lets you ride his cock for the first time with your hands on his chest, telling you exactly how to move. gets so hard watching you unravel from the smallest things, his thumb on your clit, a filthy word in your ear, the soft drag of his tongue over your nipples. adores how overwhelmed you get, how easy it is to ruin you with nothing but gentle pressure and a few well-placed moans. your innocence is like a drug to him, and he’ll spend all night undoing it, slowly and thoroughly, until the only thing left of you is the pretty little mess he’s created.

“you’ll never come this hard for anyone else, baby. they didn’t break you in— i did.”

felix:

surprisingly filthy. like he’s the sweetest, most wholesome boyfriend ever in public but when it’s just you two? yeah, that’s a whole different story. that first hit of dopamine fucks him up when he finally gets a taste of you, the way your body twitches from the first brush of his tongue, he already knows he’s gonna be addicted to your pussy. he worships every shaky moan, every uncertain grind of your hips, loving how easy it is to mold you. showers you with praises while he breaks you, tells you how perfect you look when you’re so lost in pleasure you’ve never felt before. treats your virginity like a gift, but one he fully intends to unwrap, piece by piece. kisses you slow and deep while his fingers slip lower and lower, letting you get used to every inch of him before he gives you more. he coos over every nervous whimper, smiles when you get too overwhelmed to form proper words bc it means he’s doing his job right. his cock swells in size the more you cling to him, eyes glossy, lips jutting out as you beg for something you don’t even have the words for. takes his time stretching you open, his husky, commanding baritones in your ear telling you how good you’re being, how proud he is that you’re letting him ruin you. and when you’re spread out beneath him, flushed and trembling, you’re so far gone that all your shyness sheds away.

“you’re so sensitive, angel. no one’s ever touched you here like this, huh?”

jeongin:

a total freak in denial. like he’s shy and gets all blushy when you call him your first, but the moment he realizes you’re letting him guide you? a switch flips in his horny brain. he’ll make you touch yourself in front of him first, watching you intently, fingers gripping the base of his thick cock as he corrects your movements with breathy commands. is all red-faced and whimpery when he finally fucks you, drunk off the way your pussy swallows him whole every time he thrusts in a little deeper. gets a little timid when he tries to talk you through it all, voice shaky but firm— tells you where to place your hands, how to tilt your hips, what to say when you want more. just can’t help but get so worked up by you, overwhelmed and messy, looking up at him like he’s the only one who’s ever made you feel this way. feels kinda bad for how much he loves it when you cry a little from how good it feels, when you babble that you don’t know what’s happening and he gets to say, “it’s okay, baby… i’ve got you. just let me teach you.” drinking in the scenery of you falling apart under him, frenzied and blissed out for the first time.

“no one else gets to have you like this, yeah? i’m the one who ruined you.”

#skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #lee know smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #han smut #lee felix smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts

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rainrot4me · 2 days ago

Note

After reading the pregnant hcs, what type of parent do you think the creeps would be after the baby is born? Seriously LOVE your work and have a wonderful day!

✦ . jeff the killer

Unhinged but trying (badly).

Jeff didn’t want a kid. At first. But the second that tiny baby grabbed his finger with those impossibly small hands?

“Okay what the fuck, why is it… cute?”

Still terrible with crying. He’ll hold the baby at arm’s length like, “Why’s it making this noise again??”

Surprisingly very protective. You’d have to pry that baby from his cold dead hands. Literally.

The baby starts laughing when Jeff pulls faces, and suddenly he’s doing it more than killing. Not soft, but for them? Yeah. A little.

Constantly tells them dramatic stories of how he “killed a guy for looking at mommy funny.”

✦ . ticci toby

Anxiously attentive, very soft dad energy.

He’s twitchy around the baby, scared he’ll hurt them, but he loves holding them to his chest so they can hear his heartbeat.

You catch him humming to them when he thinks you’re asleep.

Stims with baby toys. Chews on the baby’s teething rings more than the baby does.

“No, you don’t get it. This o-one’s high-grade silicone. Look at the bounce.”

You’ll catch them laid out on the couch at all times, the baby laying flat on his chest while they zone out at the television. They’re both equally focused on the kid’s show that is playing.

Insists the baby sleeps in the room with you two and never lets them out of his sight.

✦ . eyeless jack

Gentle giant who’s surprisingly intuitive.

Jack is terrifying to most people, but babies don’t care about eyeless faces. This one just giggles when he sniffs them.

Knows everything about baby nutrition. “Don’t feed them that. Their pancreas isn’t ready.”

Stitches up tiny plushies when they break. You find him sewing by lamplight, brows tense in concentration.

Carries the baby in one arm like they’re made of glass. Absolutely walks them around whenever he’s going like a little daddy-baby mission. Takes mid-day forest walks every time they get fussy.

“They smell like you. It’s… grounding.”

Dead silent killer at night. Baby’s never once woken up from noise. You suspect he paces the halls when they cry just to make sure they’re okay.

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Trauma-ridden but loving. Dad mode: activated.

Tim never thought he’d be a father. His first instinct is to panic, to baby proof every inch of the mansion. But once that baby looks at him like he’s their whole world? He melts.

Obsessively schedules feeding, changing, naps. “Consistency keeps them stable.” Maybe he needs that more than the baby.

Paces with them at 3am when they cry, murmuring,

“It’s okay, little one. I’m right here, we’ve got each other now.”

Snaps if anyone gets too close to you two. Territorial in a predatory scary way. Your shared bedroom is off bounds to anyone else.

Holds the baby against his shoulder like it’s the last safe place on Earth. Tucks his arm under their legs and pats their bottom with all the gentleness in the world.

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Emotionally constipated but incredibly present.

Doesn’t talk much, but the baby always calms when Brian holds them. They recognize his steady heartbeat and silence.

Knows how to swaddle like a pro. Could put the baby to sleep in two minutes flat.

Doesn’t let them near screens. Is weirdly intense about it.

Not a fan of nicknames, but you catch him calling them “bug” when no one’s around. You’ll usually find him sitting on the swing on the front porch, cradling the baby against his chest and humming them to sleep.

Gives quiet little smiles when the baby grabs his hoodie string or sneezes while asleep.

✦ . kate the chaser

Hot, scary, soccer mom energy.

Wears the baby strapped to her chest while doing combat training. You scream. She rolls her eyes.

“It’s good for their inner ear balance.”

Genuinely loves snuggling them when no one’s around. Will never admit it.

Gives them little plush knives. “Gotta start young.”

Hair always smells like baby shampoo because they nest in it.

Tells them bedtime stories where you and her are always the good guys. You cry. She pretends not to notice.

✦ . ben drowned

The most unserious dad—until it counts.

Teaches the baby how to press buttons on a controller before they can crawl.

“They’re gonna speedrun ‘Ocarina of Time’ by the time they’re three. Watch.”

Surprisingly soft-spoken with them. Talks like they’re a sensitive little thing.

His laptop wallpaper is the baby’s ultrasound. He keeps that thing like it’s a trophy and shows off to anyone willing to look.

Yells at you to come look when the baby does anything even slightly new.

Pranks the baby by glitching his voice through tech. Baby just giggles. It’s adorable and a little cursed. You’ll hear his crackling voice coming from the talking stuffed animal he bought them.

✦ . clockwork

Tough but incredibly maternal.

Picks the baby up one-handed like it’s nothing. Still coos and kisses their nose.

Teaches them to be strong early on. “You crying? That’s okay. Wipe your tears and try again.”

Doesn’t baby them emotionally, but fiercely protects them.

“If anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll make them count their teeth while I pluck them out of their head.”

Lets them paint her nails while she rocks them in her lap.

Reads bedtime stories with the most expressive voice. The baby is obsessed with her. Little hands always messing with the clock face in her eye.

✦ . laughing jack

Unholy blend of terrifying clown and doting parent.

Makes balloon animals that the baby never fails to pop, then remakes them again.

His lullabies are oddly morbid but calming. “This little piggy got revenge~!”

Has a toy chest that makes actual circus music. You’re suspicious when he starts to pull out cotton candy and buckets of popcorn.

The baby laughs way too hard when he does slapstick. LJ gets fake-injured just for that laugh.

Also? Wildly protective. No one lays a finger on them without facing his wrath.

✦ . slenderman

God-tier calm and terrifyingly competent.

You didn’t think an eldritch horror would be a great dad. You were wrong.

Creates the quietest space possible for the baby. No noise, no chaos, just warmth and stillness.

Rocking them in his arms is the only time his tendrils look gentle.

Baby doesn’t cry around him. It’s like they feel his presence and just… stop. It’s infuriating.

You swear he whispers things in a language you don’t understand to help them sleep. Nonetheless, it always works.

꩜ .ᐟ

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seitmai · 2 days ago

Note

Many thoughts

They instinctively turned to face one another when the other needed help attaching a certain piece to their suit or tightening their straps. They had grown un-deniably close over the past two years, and they knew each other’s movements step by step.

Dream team 🤝🏻

“I made love to her four times last night. This morning, I got pancakes. She woke up at six to make them for me before I left. God, I fuckin’ love my wife.” Javy boasted with prideful laughter. Jake only spurred him on, with a proud slap on his back and matched Javy’s amusement. However, at Javy’s confession, Natasha snorted quietly to herself.

I love how Nat can't hold it back lol

“What’s so funny, Nat? You tellin’ me you could beat Javy’s record?” Jake questioned her with a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Ohhh I just know he is is for a treat 🤭

By this time, Mickey, Rueben, and Bradley had all filtered into the room as well. They didn’t want to interrupt the ego-boosting feud that was currently unfolding in front of them. They geared up in silence but still listened with eager ears, their eyes flicking back and forth between Jake and Natasha.

They would never admit, but they love the tea and drama 🤭😅

She took a sharp breath between her teeth and broke Jake’s questioning gaze. She purposefully didn’t look back at the guys but calmly stated, “Well, I made love to my wife six times, and yeah, I also got breakfast.”

Period 😌👏🏻 and those orgasms for sure weren't fake, I just know

The silence from them both was telling. She continued fixing her gear and calmly played off her triumphant feat. It was as though it was the most normal thing in the world for her (which wasn’t far off).

I wanna be her wife so bad 😭🤤🥰

If only they knew how good you were for him last night. If only they knew how pretty you looked on your knees and spread out on the soft linen, all for himself. If only they knew how pretty you sounded, as you whimpered and whined his name all—

Not him reminiscing, completely zoning out 🤭

“Bob!” Jake’s biting tone snapped his attention straight towards the blonde-haired man. “You’re lookin’ smug for a guy, who, as far as we know, hasn’t been laid in… two years?” He questioned with faux interest. Natasha immediately belted out an amused, “Ha!”

Once again she can't hold back and I love her for that 🤭👏🏻

Natasha also knew that no one else knew.

She knew Bob better than anyone here. She had met you, Bob’s long-time wife. Natasha and her wife had been to dinner with Bob and you. She had been to BBQs in your backyard and tried your delicious home-cooked macaroni and cheese. You were even invited to her bachelorette party when she got married.

Besties 💖

Hehe

“Well? You got a wife?” Jake asked the question carelessly and casually, making Bob squirm. He severely despised people thinking about his wife like that, as if you weren’t the moon to his sun. A beat, and Bob responded. “Yeah.” Javy’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Mickey and Ruben had turned around to watch the whole thing by then. They nudged one another in the ribs and whispered, “I told you so!”

The various reactions are killing me 😂

Bradley didn’t flinch. He knew. He saw Bob and you on the beach one evening. Bob gave him a curt nod, and when he arrived at the Navy base the next morning, Bradley swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. He understood, more than anyone, why people kept their private lives away from here.

Solid 🫡 maybe he has a secret wife too? Or a husband?🤔👀

“Because…” Bob’s gaze narrowed fiercely towards Jake. “My wife was asking me not to stop.” There was a deafening silence, and then a chorus of bellowing laughter and jeers echoed throughout the room.

This is a perfect answer and that it's the truth makes it even better 👏🏻

“Don’t assume stuff like that, Hangman. Wait until you find out that he has a kid.”

Bob cocked his head at Jake, with an assured smile now etched fully onto his lips. He asked if Natasha was ready, and then they both headed out onto the tarmac, leaving Jake behind, practically frozen in shock.

Iconic👏🏻

My favorite Bob headcanon 🤭

Oh to be Bob or Nat's wife (or both), truly my dream🥰

Do you know that audio on TikTok that’s like I made love to my wife 4 times and this morning she made pancakes and whatnot? Could you do a story where it’s the daggers and this is how they find out about bobs wife?

don’t stop.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ summary: jake attempts to catch bob out, but bob has something to reveal.

￫ word count: 1K.

￫ warnings: mentions of sex, smut and food.

￫ authors notes: i hope i based this off the right sound, my dear anon! 🥹 i’m sorry this took so long too 🥺 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob stood beside Natasha in comfortable silence as they dressed in the appropriate gear, ready for a test flight.

Natasha’s eyebrows raised, and she let out a small groan. “Here they come.”

Bob’s breath hitched as he heard the booming voices coming through the door.

Javy sauntered in, with Jake on his heels, both snickering about something like schoolboys.

“Oh, Jake, you wouldn’t believe it.” They both swung open their lockers in sync. At a glance, you wouldn’t think that they flew separately. They were so similar as they mirrored the movements of getting their gear on.

“I made love to her four times last night. This morning, I got pancakes. She woke up at six to make them for me before I left. God, I fuckin’ love my wife.”Javy boasted with prideful laughter.

Jake only spurred him on, with a proud slap on his back and matched Javy’s amusement.

However, at Javy’s confession, Natasha snorted quietly to herself.

Jake’s head cocked to the right of him and his eyebrows raised with a questioning glance her way. He leaned back against the lockers containing their gear and attached some to himself.

“What’s so funny, Nat? You tellin’ me you could beat Javy’s record?” Jake questioned her with a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

She heard Bradley’s hushed whistle of “Oof,” and she smiled proudly to herself as she looked down to see where she was fiddling with a buckle on her suit.

Bob, on the other hand, had watched the entire exchange before him, with bated breath. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, and the corner of his lips twitched into a grin as he saw Jake and Javy’s bewildered faces.

Natasha immediately belted out an amused, “Ha!”

Natasha also knew that no one else knew.

Bob was private about his life away from the naval base. He had his reasons, but more than anything, he appreciated the peace he shared with his one love. You.

Jake’s jeering and deeply imposing question made his eye twitch a little from behind his glasses. He pushed his frames up the bridge of his nose with his index finger, before looping his hands into the gear on his chest. He puffed out his chest slightly and stood confidently across from Jake.

“Well? You got a wife?” Jake asked the question carelessly and casually, making Bob squirm. He severely despised people thinking about his wife like that, as if you weren’t the moon to his sun.

A beat, and Bob responded. “Yeah.”

Javy’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Mickey and Ruben had turned around to watch the whole thing by then. They nudged one another in the ribs and whispered, “I told you so!”

Jake snorted, although he blinked furiously as Bob’s statement took him aback. “Okay then, Baby, how many times did you make love to them last night?”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest in an attempt to shield himself from perhaps being scolded by Bob Floyd.

“Once.”

“Once?! Oh, Bob.” Jake mocked with faux sympathy. “And did they make you anything this morning?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Bob’s gaze narrowed fiercely towards Jake. “My wife was asking me not to stop.”

There was a deafening silence, and then a chorus of bellowing laughter and jeers echoed throughout the room.

Even Javy let out a loud chuckle, gripping Jake’s shoulders and playfully shaking him. “He got you there!”

Once the rest of the guys had had enough playful jabs towards him, they all made their way out to join the others. But Jake felt a firm hand on his shoulder as the tall brunette towered over him.

“Don’t assume stuff like that, Hangman. Wait until you find out that he has a kid.”

taglist: @floydsmuse @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @kmc1989

tagging those who may be interested: @becks-things @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @thecowboyfiles @auroralightsthesky @beautifulandvoid

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parkjihoonswifey · 3 days ago

Note

can u do a baku x popular girl version 🙏🙏 (you can include nsfw if u want)

A/N: surprise surprise!!! this was something I did super fast before I fell asleep and it's scheduled for posting. Although it's incredibly rushed and not as good I hope you enjoy some.

p.s yes I cut out the NSFW cause I was too lazy to imagine it, don't judge.

Title: Bows and Boxing

Pairings: Park Humin (Baku) x Fem! reader

Warnings: suggestive content

Baku wasn’t seen as the guy you would fall for.

He was loud. Always laughing too hard, butting into fights he didn’t start but always finished. His knuckles had more scars than his heart was ready to admit. And sure, he cracked jokes and wore hoodies two sizes too big, but everyone knew he could knock a guy flat if they looked at you wrong—and he had.

You, on the other hand, were soft edges and sweet perfume. Insta-popular. Pretty enough to get away with anything, and kind enough that you never tried. You wore mini skirts and carried lip gloss in every bag you owned.

So when people saw you and Baku holding hands in the hall, it confused the hell out of them—and that made him grin.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“You know everyone’s staring,” you whispered one day, tugging him closer as you passed a group of gossip-hungry classmates.

Baku snorted. “Let ‘em. They’re just mad I’m hotter than their entire contact list combined.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so full of it.”

He grinned and bumped your hip with his. “Only when you’re not filling me with you.”

You choked on your own laugh. “You’re disgusting.”

“Still your boyfriend, though.”

And you couldn’t argue with that.

Despite acting like a clown all the time, Baku wasn't oblivious.

He saw the looks you got. The DMs you ignored. The way other guys suddenly tried harder when they realized who you were dating. He played it cool, but his protectiveness bled through in the way he always stood a little closer to you at parties. In how his eyes scanned every room before letting go of your hand. In how his jaw clenched when someone called you too good for him.

He knew complained, only loved you through every emotion— doubt, anger, fear for what's next. You never gave a reason to not trust you, and he always did. He never asked you for anything, did everything you wanted.

He sees you as a safe space, a place he could turn off his brain and just be Park Humin instead of Baku. You see him as your whole world, something so sacred that a special side of him was reserved only for you. You loved how he trusted you, and you ate it up.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“You ever think I’m not enough for you?” he asked once, late at night while you straddled his lap in his messy bedroom, hoodie half-off your shoulder.

You blinked. “Never.”

He stared. Really stared. “Good. ‘Cause I’ll spend every night proving I am.”

you kissed the corner of his mouth, "Prove it."

That night, you saw a different Baku.

Gone was the class clown. In his place was a boy who touched you like he knew exactly what you needed—teasing and playful at first, mouthing kisses under your jaw and slipping his hands beneath your top like it was second nature.

He whispered dumb jokes between kisses, but when you tugged his hoodie off and moaned at the sight of him, everything got quiet.

“You sure?” he asked, voice low now, serious in the way only Baku could be when it mattered.

You kissed him slow. “I want you. Not the version other people whisper about. You.”

Then he was all over you.

He kissed like he fought—fierce, full-bodied, no holding back. His hands were everywhere, rough from the past but careful with you. His mouth trailed fire across your skin, hot breath and teasing words in your ear.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling your panties down your thighs. “All pretty and wet for me. You’re mine, right?”

You nodded fast, voice broken. “Yours.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄⊰❀

After, he collapsed beside you, arm pulling you tight into his side.

You giggled. “So... was I worth the drama?”

He laughed, still breathless. “Are you kidding me? I’d fight every guy in Korea for a night like this.”

You poked his cheek. “You’re such a dork.”

He laughed, " You mean your strong handsome boyfriend, right?"

You giggled beside him, getting up and running into the bathroom.

"Right?!" He questiones again, getting up to follow you.

"Come shower with me, babe!" You shout, turning the water on. He paddles into the bathroom, wrapping his hands around your waist

"Right, babe?" He pouts, burying his face into your neck. You stay silent, trying not to laugh. He takes notice of this and his jaw drops. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, placing you on the counter. His lips met yours, and you push away.

"Shower."

A/N: hope you enjoy but it's 5 am lemme go to bed I got work at 10 ✌🏿😓

#weak hero class 1 #weak hero class one #weak hero class two #weak hero class x reader #yeon sieun #ahn suho #go hyuntak #park humin #weak hero x reader #park jihoon smut #whcsmut #weak hero kdrama

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friendlyneighborhoodcat · 3 days ago

Text

Forsaken Yandere HC:3

I'm bored and I got inspo so here's some yandere headcannons, I'm only doing the sentinels in this post so I'll post abt the killers and the other survivors later

...

...Uhhh uhhh UUHHHH

NONBINARY CULTIST GOO *Throws a two time pill baby at you*

Chance: Would be the type to stroll up to you confidently and tell you some cheesy ahh pickup lines. Would be rlly open about how he feels towards you, if that's not obvious enough from the flirts. Although he'll stay up late at night overthinking about how you feel abt him. Makes imaginary bets in his mind like 'if I got head, I get to kiss Reader'(He never does), manages to get tails 9 times, and cheered out loud when he got a singular head(Yeah. He's pathetic, I know, throw him in a volcano.)

Two Time: Oh boy, they'd know your entire cabin's layout and every single item placement from the number of 'visits' they had while you're asleep (they watch you sleep at night). Seriously, ask them about any of your missing items and they'd literally give you the exact location of it like, 'Hey, Two, do you know where my ____ is?' 'Table, second drawer'. They wouldn't make themself seen during rounds, but trust me, they're always stalking near you. Expect this mf to stare at you with the manic ahh smile, and don't be too confused when you find strange trinkets or symbols in your cabin. Would pray to The Spawn about you and thank them for your existence, which they believed to be a blessing for their devotion.

Guest 1337: He's like your personal guard dog now. He always sticks close to you in rounds, staying on hyper-alert. Yes, he's aware of Two Time stalking watching you. Would fuss over you every time you get too far and would protect you at all costs. If you're injured and Elliot gave him a pizza, he'd give it to you with no hesitation. Even if you have higher health than he does. Killers tend to avoid targeting you bc of the scary dog privilege, or maybe they just get parried every time they try. He knows you'll respawn every time you 'die', he's just too afraid of losing someone he treasured again.

Shedletsky: He's fighting demons so that his wings don't fluff out every time he sees you. Would share fried chicken if you ask nicely. He'd yap to you abt SFOTH or the stuff at the Roblox HQ after rounds and would slack off from stunning the killer just to do the same generator with you. He loves it when you pet his wings and makes soft cooing bird noises. You'd always tease him about it after and earned a grumbling Shed in return, though he'd never admit that he doesn't mind your teasing.

-----

UEUEUEUEUEEUUEEUEUEUEEEE

Hope yall don't mind my writing for this post cuz I'm flipping out while making this. As in I'm being overly excited and jumpy and stuff.

It'll go away tho. Trust, heh

OKAY BYE I GOTTA FORSAKEN NOW RAHHHHH

Edit: Okayy so I feel like this may cause some confusion, so I'd get that out of the way first. Shed and Taph both have wings in my HC. Just that Shed has bigger wings located on his back, while Taph has smaller wings on the side of his head.

#forsaken #forsaken au #forsaken x reader #chance x reader #two time x reader #guest 1337 x reader #shedletsky x reader

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bluewxrld07 · 2 days ago

Text

Pins and Needles

Lando X Bff!Fewtrell!Reader

Summary: Y/N doesn't know where she and Lando stand anymore. Their once-tight friendship soon started to tear at the seams.

Warning(s): just pure angst, Lando being toxic (sorry y'all), making out, Charles Leclerc incoming, depression, lack of self-worth

A/N : I can't help myself y'all ok 🥲 This one is gonna hurt, I'm sorry but also not sorry. Enjoy 🙂 (Written and inspired by Nessa Barrett's song Pins and Needles)

Hand on the stove, I barely feel it

And when I let go, I'm already healing

This was not how it was supposed to go.

How it was supposed to wind up.

Y/N didn't even know how she got herself into this situation.

Deep down, she knew exactly how she got herself into this situation, she just didn't want to admit to it.

It started when one drunk night at the club in Monaco led to her becoming tangled up in her best friend's sheets, whispering sweet nothings to one another. The sly touches as the sun crept through the blackout curtains the next morning.

That was when their situation bloomed. Things had become messier between Lando and Y/N.

Little did Y/N realize just how deep she had fallen for the man she had known almost her entire life. He was comfortable. Familiar. Trustworthy.

At the start.

Things at the beginning were smooth. Nothing but absolute lust, addiction, and hunger. It rose and rose, some moments almot becoming reckless.

They couldn't keep their hands off one another. From sneaking around the paddock, to the club bathrooms, to the bedroom next door to Max's. It became reckless. Animals in heat. The craving was insatiable.

The pair didn't know if the sneaking around made them this way, or the fact that it was supposed to be a forbidden relationship. Max would've had Lando's head. He'd have six feet under the ground.

She didn't mean to fall more in love with the boy. She thought it would be harmless. Her feelings would subside. Not do the complete opposite and skyrocket. The way he had begun to treat their little situationship as if they were together is what got her the most.

He made her feel like she was the only one.

Till he slowly became more sloppy. Bailing out on plans more often, leaving her high and dry while saying something came up. The distance became clearer. It was the late-night visits that were only making a daily appearance. No talking, just becoming tangled in the bedsheets.

Their friendship had begun to fade out, only turning into meaningless sex. At least that's what she believed.

She never understood why. What had she done for him to pull away slowly? What was she missing?

Y/N couldn't tell anyone, as she didn't have anyone she told about it. Not trusting a single soul to keep it quiet if things got tricky. Especially not when Max had no idea of what was happening behind closed doors.

When he began to ask why her mood had become more glum, as if she had almost faded. She just used the excuse of lack of sleep, or was just having one of those days.

He didn't question it, only gave her a lingering look, then didn't push further. He knew better.

It wasn't long till she found out why. Why Lando pulled away from her, let their friendship fade out, as well as their late night hookups.

They say your name, I don't even hear it

You dug your own grave, and nobody's grieving

The articles all read and show him with a new girl, a blonde model and actress. She was pretty. His type, too. He looked happy, a genuine smile on his lips as he looked at her.

That's when she noticed the way her chest tightened, crashed in on itself.

He had been seeing this girl, Magui, she thinks her name was, without saying a thing to her. She thought they were close enough that he would've been honest. He has never lied to her. In all the years she had known him, it wasn't something he did.

She remembered when she found out, she sat there trying to figure out what to say to him. Her first message sounded angry. Hurt, betrayed, lost, and confused.

Instead, she clicked the power button off, thinking it was best to not say a word. Instead, she let it fade away. Let him fade away.

There had been a day Y/N was at her brother's, sitting on the barstool while he cooked food with Pietra.

"Is she nice?" she asks, hinting at Lando's new girl. Max looked at her with an unsure gaze, shrugging his shoulders.

"From what I can tell, yeah," he answers. "Still a bit skeptical about her, though. About her past, mainly. Everything is still unclear about what happened between her and Luisna. Lando won't really talk about it."

She nods, deciding not to push any further, picking at the food on her plate.

"Have you heard from him lately?" Pietra asks this time. "I haven't seen you two around one another lately. Usually it's hard to pull you both away from the other," she tries to joke. Max looked back at his sister with just as curious of a look.

"You two haven't been talking?" he asks, Y/N just shrugs.

"Not really," she admits. "Always says something's come up. It's fine, I'm not gonna push it. He's happy."

Max looks at her with a little bit of shock on his face. "You two have been close for years. Closer than him and me, why would he just push you away?"

Y/N knew the real answer to it, but she couldn't give that away. As she knew Max would lose his shit if he knew. Lando would be lucky to leave the brawl with a head on his shoulders if Max found out.

So instead, the girl just shrugs. "Don't know. Just assumed maybe he doesn't want to make things look weird with his new girl. Probably doesn't want her to think anything else."

Max scoffs playfully at that, pouring his eggs onto his own plate. "Trust me, if there was more, I would've known. She wouldn't have had anything to worry about. He'd have a lot more to deal with if that were the case."

She just stays silent, Pietra sensing the awkwardness in the room, deciding to change the subject.

Shot my heart with Novacane

Ice-cold, cut off my blood flow

It had turned into hearing from Lando every other week, and maybe seeing him when he came to help with collabs for Quadrant. When the pair would be streaming with the other streamers, he wouldn't so much as acknowledge her in the chat.

It would be short answers if anything.

Her chest burned every time she made eye contact with him, the gazes between the pair always having something between them. Something she couldn't quite explain.

It wasn't until she had been dragged out to a race day with Max and P, that she could feel the need to hide away in a corner for the rest of her life.

She kept her distance whenever Lando would come around, the boy not missing the way she would excuse herself when he came by.

He should've known.

He caused the tension between them. He pulled back when he only wanted to get closer to her.

He found another girl while in denial of how deeply in love he was with his homeboy's sister, and his best friend. Magui was his way out. His escape from his reality. Even if it wasn't the right way.

He had to let Y/N go, even if it meant he couldn't be in her life anymore.

At least that's what he told himself.

You think you're important,, boy, I've got bad news

You're mean and you're boring, they'll all forget you

Y/N had been standing over by the motorhomes, sipping on the coffee in her hand, when she felt someone bump into her back. The sip had turned into a mess, dripping down onto her white tube top she wore on the hot day.

She turned around to meet the eyes of a familiar Monégasque man, who looked at her in horror. "Shit, Y/N I am so sorry," he nervously chuckles, his eyes seeing the new stain on her top. "I should've been more careful. I was so caught up in the conversation I-"

"Charles," she giggles, making him look at her. "It's okay. At least it wasn't a hot coffee, yeah?"

He snorts while rubbing the back of his neck. "Now that I definitely would've never heard the end of."

She chuckles. "You still won't hear the end of this one," she jokes, making him give her a genuine smile before chuckling back at her. He motions to her shirt.

"At least lemme help get you a new top? I can't bear the thought of you having to be stuck with explaining how the stain came about."

"Ahhh I see you want to protect your perfect image, I suppose?" she tuts playfully, making him widen his eyes.

"What? No I meant like it would probably be annoying having to say the story a thousand times, or you could get weird looks from people, or-"

"Oh my goodness, Charles! I'm joking," she laughs while putting her hands on his shoulders. She watches him visibly relax at her touch and her words, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Sorry, I just," he chuckles breathlessly. "You make me nervous, is all."

She raises her brows, a small smirk on her lips. "Oh, I do now?"

He rolls his eyes with a groan. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this."

She hums. "I didn't know I made the famous Ferrari driver nervous," she jokes while crossing her arms and giving him a knowing look.

His eyes flicker down from her eyes to her lips for a split second, then he smiles at her. "A little."

"A little?"

He purses his lips. "Okay a bit more than a little."

She laughs at his little confession, Charles pinching her waist as he pulls her with him. "You can give me shit later," he laughs. "But right now let's go get you changed into something that doesn't have a stain on it."

She lets him drag her along to the Ferrari paddock, in search of Rebecca and Carlos, knowing the WAG always had a backup set of clothing on her when need be.

Once Charles had found them, he explained the situation, watching as Rebecca lit up and happily said she'd lend a helpful hand.

Y/N followed the girl, keeping up the small talk as they made their way to the Ferrari motorhome, where Rebecca had a cute top waiting for Y/N.

She knew she wouldn't hear the end of it, the color of the top being a bright Ferrari red. It was a one-shoulder cropped tank top, the color sitting beautifully on her skin. Rebecca gave her a low whistle, causing Y/N to chuckle and roll her eyes.

"Red looks so good on you," she says, making Y/N shrug. Rebecca gives her a knowing look, but says nothing as the pair made their way back to the paddock.

Charles did a double take when she returned, his eyes taking in the red top that adorned her skin.

He smiled as he walked up to her. "Red is your color I think," he says, making her roll her eyes.

"Rebecca said the same thing," she answers, watching him nod. "She's never wrong."

Y/N thanks Rebecca one more time, alongside a hug. "Think about it," Rebecca whispers into the girl's ear before pulling away with a wink.

Charles then walks Y/N back over to the McLaren paddock where her brother and P sat. Max frowned at his sister. "I've been looking for you. Where did you run off to?" his eyes then dart to the new top she was wearing, then back to Charles. He gave Max a look.

"I bumped into her and thought I could help her get a new top," he explains. "I felt bad. So blame me for stealing her. Sorry, mate."

Max chuckles while nodding. "Of course it's a red top too," he jokes, Charles ears turning bright red, he puts his hands up in defense.

"Blame Rebecca for that one," he sputters, Max doing a once-over with a smug smirk while nodding slowly. "Uh-huh," Max trails off. "Well, thank you for helping her out," he says, a smug smirk only getting wider.

Charles nods curtly, before facing Y/N with a small smile, and squeezes her side. "Good seeing you, cherie," he mutters to her, kissing her cheek before he leaves her. Y/N realizing her side feeling slightly colder than it did when his hand was there.

She turns to watch him leave and head down the stairs, biting her lip without realizing it. Her head turns back to face her brother and Pietra.

The pair is staring at her with smug and knowing smiles. Max leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and clearing his throat.

Y/N squints her eyes at them. "What?" Watching her brother nod at her.

"Someone has a crush."

She scoffs at her brother. "You're reading into things," she chuckles while shaking her head.

Pietra laughs. "Oh, honey, no. You two were staring at each other like you want to-"

"Don't even say what you're going to say," Max whines, covering his face. "I don't need to hear that."

Y/N just laughs, pointing at Pietra. "You're wrong on top of that."

Pietra rolls her eyes with a smirk, and before she can argue further, Lando is seen walking up to the group, making Y/N want to fade away.

Lando sees her, only doing a double-take when he sees the color of her shirt, also realizing that this was indeed not the color she was wearing earlier. He slowly points at her shirt, Max chuckles.

"Dear old Ferrari man has a crush on my sister," Max admits, then points at her. "She's crushing on him as well."

"Maxwell!" Y/N hisses, watching him crack up. She doesn't miss the way Lando's facial expression drops, something unreadable in his expression.

"What d'you mean?" he asks slowly. Y/N groans while hiding her face.

"What he means," Pietra starts. "Charles spilled coffee on her and helped her get a new shirt. And apparently that was his chance to get her in red."

Lando's eyes snapped down to Pietra, Max just sitting there in a fit of giggles as his sister kicks his shin.

"He was just being helpful," Y/N grumbles. "Besides, Rebecca was the one who gave it to me. Not Charles."

Max looks back at her. "Sure, we know that," he says between laughs. "But the eye fucking you two were doing before he left said more than that. Especially that little kiss move-"

"He kissed you?" Lando cuts in, his tone sharp and stern. Max and Pietra look at him with certain looks. His head and eyes only focused on Y/N in that moment, who was now shifting on her feet with her arms crossed.

"It was just on the cheek," she rolls her eyes before glaring at Max. "Stop making it sound like he laid me out on the table or something," she hisses, making Lando choke on his spit while Max gagged.

"That's vile, do not ever say that again," he points at his sister with a disgusted look. "Second, I'm only saying it because I think you two would be good together."

That makes her eyes widen in shock, watching him put his hands up in defense.

"Say what now? I thought you said no racers."

He hums with a nod before pointing out to Lando. "Yeah, I said that mainly for that one," he says, missing how his mate clenched his jaw. "Charles, on the other hand? I hope it does happen. He's one of the good ones."

Y/N coughs awkwardly, not missing the way Lando scoffed at his best friend's words, mumbling something under his breath as he crossed his arms.

"Can we just change the subject, please? I'm not crushing on Charles, and I'm not going to date him."

Max gives her a knowing look before turning his gaze towards Lando. He frowns. "You good, mate?" he asks, watching as Lando snaps his gaze at Max. He nods curtly.

"Just don't care to hear about her sex life, you muppet. Charles is a player and only wants what he can't have," he admits, not missing the way Y/N glared straight to the side of his face. "Anyways, we're getting ready to start. I was gonna walk you lots to the club level."

Max nods before taking Pietra's hand to guide her. Lando kept his pace next to Y/N's, the girl not missing how his hand would brush against hers every so often.

She could see the gears turning in his head, clenching his jaw every so often, as if he was preventing himself from saying or doing something he might regret. Max and Pietra were further ahead of them, happily making their way to the balcony in the club level of the paddock, overlooking the racetrack.

"He can't give you what I can," the brit says next to her, causing her to snap her gaze at him with a frown. She scoffs.

"That's awfully daft, coming from you," she shoots back. "You ghosted me, remember? You don't have a say in my actions."

"Oh, so you are seeing Leclerc huh?"

She scoffs. "Go check on your girlfriend, Norris. The one you dropped me for."

He glares at her. "Y/N-"

"End of discussion, Lando."

She walks away, a part of her wanting him to grab her and pull her back. Show her she was his. Even if it was behind closed doors. The other part of her was happy he didn't. She wanted him to see that he couldn't have her. He missed the opportunity.

Don't call me your ex, 'cause I never met you

She kept close to her brother and P the entire race, zoning out the entire time the race went on.

Her mind didn't know what to think.

She missed Lando. She really did.

The other part of her though, was also pulling towards Charles.

Y/N couldn't tell if it was just because of how Lando reacted, or because of how she felt a new feeling whenever Charles was near her.

Or how she caught her stare lingering longer on Charles as he took P2. Or how his eyes found hers in the crowd, staring back at her, his smile becoming wider when he saw she was staring first.

It's all pins and needles, babe

I feel nothing for you, nothing for you

Now, here she stood, in the VIP section of the Monaco club after Lando placed P1 at his home race.

She had a drink in her hand, pretty sure the glass could break under her grip. Her eyes did not leave the way his hands and body moved with the blonde on the dancefloor.

At this point she couldn't tell if she was jealous, or pissed off. Or both.

She watched as his hands moved along her body, how his lips never left her body as they danced. He looked like a wet dream.

"You hold onto that glass any tighter, it's gonna shatter and cut up that pretty hand," a familiar French accent says next to her. Her eyes snap out of the daze, turning to see Charles taking the spot next to her.

He nods at her slowly. "You alright, cherie?" he asks her, making her laugh to herself before spinning a finger around the rim of her glass.

"Honestly, I don't know," she admits, looking back at his confused frown. "Can I be honest?"

"Always."

She sighs. "I had been seeing this guy. We weren't anything exclusive, but at the same time, it felt like it. Then out of nowhere, he just stops. No explanation, no excuses, nothing. Just drops me like I'm nothing," she explains, letting a bitter chuckle leave her lips.

"Then I found out it's because he had another girl. I don't even know how long. It was just out of the blue, and I guess I shouldn't have been as upset as I was about it. But I can't help it."

Charles takes in every word she's saying, nodding and humming at the appropriate times.

"It burns my chest seeing them, seeing him, act like I never even mattered," she admits. "But then, I began to realize something else. There's this other guy. I didn't even realize I felt good around him. Like I could relax around his presence. Forget about why I was so hurt about the other guy," she explains, not even realizing how easy it had become to open up to Charles.

The way his expression showed no judgment. No sense of uneasiness as she spoke. Just a genuine expression that showed he was listening to her.

"And part of me wanted this guy I was seeing," she says more to herself. "But a bigger part of me really wants this guy that makes me feel seen. Heard."

Charles nods at her, taking a sip of his drink. "You alright if I give you my advice?" he asks cautiously.

She nods. "Always," she copies his words, making him grin at her.

He points at Lando. "He's an idiot for letting you go," he admits, watching her face contort to confusion, and then to shock before shaking her head.

"I didn't- How did-"

He laughs at her, stepping closer. "It's not hard to see. You two weren't as slick as you thought," he admits, Y/N feeling her face begin to heat up.

"I'm sorry," she admits with a sigh, looking down at her now-empty glass. "I didn't mean to sound like that. I just- I didn't have anyone I trusted to talk to."

"And I'm just easier to talk to? Someone you trust?" he asks her, leaning his elbow on the bar behind them, a knowing smirk on his lips. She snaps her head to him.

As she was about to say something, he stood up straight, walked to stand in front of her, and took the glass from her fingers. She doesn't miss the way his fingers brush hers, goosebumps rising on her skin. He places the glass on the mahogany behind them, his eyes lowering to her own. She gulps as she watches his smirk widen just slightly, while he places both hands on the bar behind her, caging her in. His face was dangerously close to hers, the Monégasque not missing the way her breaths came out shaky.

"As for this other guy," he starts, his tone lower. Darker. "I think he's very worth your time. He wouldn't make you feel like Lando did. He'd take care of you. Treat you right. Show you how a woman like you should be worshipped."

Y/N feels her pulse quicken. "Besides," he mutters, bringing his lips closer to her own. "If you're choosing between two people, choose the second. Because if you really did like the first option, you wouldn't have fallen for the second."

That got Y/N's insides churning, knowing deep down Charles was right. He was so right.

He chuckled darkly as he watched his chest rising and falling quicker after he said that, placing his lips closer to her ear as he placed a light kiss against the lobe. "The second guy also just really wants to be selfish," he admits.

Y/N smiles slowly at his words, letting herself indulge slowly with Charles. She lets out a gasp as she feels his lips planting feather-light kisses from her jawline, down to her neck and her collarbone.

She finally trails her hands up his button-up, slipping underneath the half-open shirt, slithering to rest on the bare skin of his back just before it meets the crook of his neck. His head leaves her neck, bringing his head closer to her own.

"So this other guy," she says breathlessly. "You think he'd worship me, huh? Show me how worth it I am?"

He hums with a nod, kissing the corner of her lips. Y/N found herself craving more, her body aching for his own against hers. Skin to skin.

"He'd do more than just that," he chuckles against her jaw. "He'd take his time with you. Show you exactly how a woman like you should be appreciated. Till you're shaking."

Y/N lets out a breathless moan at that, one of her hands finding his hair. "Spoil you to death. Treat you like the absolute Queen you are."

Charles brings his head back up to really look at her. Y/N staring back into his own eyes, flicking down to his lips for a split second. "Charles," she says softly, earning a hum from him. "Kiss me please."

That's all it took for Charles to take her jaw in his hands, placing a passionate and messy kiss on her lips. Their teeth clashed, tongues messily battling against one another as she kissed him with such need. Such obsession.

The more they kissed, the more they craved one another. Charles let his hands fall from her jaw to her hips, pulling her lower body into his.

Lando was long forgotten in Y/N's mind. He was the last thing she was thinking of; she could forget his name if Charles kept up the way he touched and kissed her.

Little did she realize, Lando was now frozen in his spot on the floor. His eyes darkened. He glared as he watched the girl his heart yearned for, and the guy who was going to be six feet under if looks could kill.

He could tell it wasn't just for show either. She really wanted Charles. Charles wanted her.

He only knew that because of how she was kissing Charles, it was the way she used to kiss him. His heart hurt, chest tightened. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene across the club.

Magui was long forgotten in that moment, Lando realizing he lost the girl he wanted most.

He should've known.

Y/N whines at the loss of Charles' lips when he pulls back, the man looking down at her blown-out state. Her lips swollen as her eyes look up at him with a knowing look.

"What do you say, cherie?" he says slowly, watching her slowly smile.

"I think I'm open to giving this other guy a chance," she jokes, watching him bite his lip to hide the big ear to ear smile that was forming.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, before breaking away and lacing a hand with hers.

Charles began to lead her away from the bar, his gaze locking with Lando's as they passed by.

He didn't miss the way Lando slightly mouthed a 'what the fuck' at his friend, a glare in his direction. Charles held his head up high, smirking at Lando, giving him a sly little wink before he turned his attention to Y/N.

Lando saw the way her eyes looked up at Charles, like she finally felt happy. At ease in his presence. Like she had forgotten Lando existed in that moment. She probably did, and that hit him like a truck.

He watched as Charles placed his other hand on her lower back to help keep her next to him as they pushed through the crowd, making sure not to lose her as they headed out.

Lando didn't even excuse himself from Magui, earning a shocked squeak from her as she watched him rush away from the dancefloor.

Lando scurried past everyone and towards the front entry, pushing past the people who were trying to congratulate him as he passed by.

He didn't give a single fuck about any of them, his mind only thinking about her.

Please. Don't go home with him

His mind begged, wishing she could read minds. Read his.

The way he knew he was already way too late. Months too late.

Once he had gotten outside, he had seen Charles shutting her door before turning to thank the valet workers. His eyes flicked twice over to Lando's state. Trying his best to hide the winning smirk as he saw the disheveled state of the British man.

Charles looked back at his car towards her window, before looking back at Lando. He walked up to him, Lando's gaze hardening as he got closer.

"Don't," Lando warns him.

Warning him to not cross this line. To not take the girl that Charles knew he was so in love with, not take her home. He didn't like this feeling. He hated it.

That's when he realized what it was.

Lando Norris was jealous. He was jealous beyond words.

He never gets jealous.

Not until now.

Charles chuckles at him, patting his shoulder. "Lando," he chuckles. "You ruined your chances. Give her the chance to finally be happy, hm?"

He shook his head. "You can't give her what I can give her."

Charles bites his lower lip before speaking. "That's the point," he begins. "I wouldn't treat her like shit, like you did. I'll give her everything she deserves, and more. Not give her nothing, like you gave her."

That made Lando feel like he had been shot in the chest.

“I won’t ever let her feel or think she’s only good for one thing,” Charles adds, giving Lando a knowing look. Lando’s face drops slightly, then frowns. “I’m going to show her she’s worth more than she could ever imagine. Because she is.” Charles admits, a genuine look in his eyes.

Lando doesn’t know what to say in that moment. He felt defeated.

Because part of him knew (all of him knew) that Charles was good for her. He wouldn’t treat her anything lower than the Goddess she was.

Lando just hated that it wasn’t him.

Charles pats him on the shoulder. "Goodnight, mate," he says before walking away and getting into the car. Lando watched as the pair drove off into the night. Something was burning inside Lando's chest. Burned in his eyes.

Tears.

Jealousy.

Need.

Y/N smiled to herself as Charles and she drove along the roads, his hand gently on her thigh while hers rested on top of his.

Her phone buzzed, not once, not twice, but three times. This caused her to pick it up and look down at it. She thought she would feel something, anything, as she read the messages.

Please, don't go with him. I'm so in love with you

Come back to me, I'll be better. It hurts to see you not with me. Hurts to see you happy with him. I'll prove myself. I'll do better, for you

It's always been you

Y/N takes a deep breath as she begins to type with her free hand.

Your time ran out. A long time ago, Lando. It's time I let myself be happy.

Goodbye Lando

With that, she turned her phone off and looked over at Charles. His eyes gazed back at her, nothing but admiration as he stared at her.

"You okay?" he asks softly. She takes a moment before nodding.

"Yeah," she hums. "I am now."

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris angst #lando angst #lando imagines #lando x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #lando norris #ln4 #cl16 #y/n #angst #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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enimsiyobeht · 2 days ago

Note

Thinking about boypussy Lino and pussy drunk reader who always wants to eat his pretty princess out... just getting on his knees when they're having a movie night and devouring that pretty pussy, or laying between Minho's legs, throwing those legs over reader's shoulders and eating him out so vigorously...

and equally obsessed Minho..who wants reader inside him.. will cock warm reader when he's working, is basically free use because there's not one moment he doesn't want reader inside him

😩😩😩

admit it! (you're obsessed). minho x male reader.

1468 boypussy, unprotected (all scenes), oral sex (m. receiving), cockwarming (all scenes), dirty talk, overstimulation, oral fixation, pussy worship, power play, comfort sex elements, implied size kink, sensory kink, somnophilia-adjacent/sleepy sex (extra scene). mdni !!

a/n : i lob this request, and i bet my hubby... @spear-of-moonlight (hope for the best recovery of your wrist 😿😿💖) would love it 2!! 👉👈 i thought of some extra scenes to elaborate with the whole ask, enjoyyy.

The movie plays, mostly ignored.

Minho’s in your lap, pink cotton shorts pushed up high on his thighs, a faded tank top slipping off one shoulder. He’s pretending to focus on the screen—he always does, biting the inside of his cheek like he isn’t soaking the seat of your pants, legs twitching whenever your fingers shift an inch closer to where he wants them.

You’re not even halfway through the opening act when you drop to your knees.

“Again?” Minho teases, though his voice is already breathless. “Didn’t you get enough this morning?”

You don’t answer.

You just hook his legs over your shoulders, peel those pretty shorts down, and stare. His pussy’s puffy and slick, lips parted like it’s been waiting—like it knows you’re down there again.

“Fuck, look at you,” you murmur, palms pressing into his thighs to spread him open. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

Minho giggles, head tipping back, hair spilling over the couch cushions. “You’re the one crawling back between my legs, baby.”

You don’t deny it. You never do.

Because nothing compares to the way he tastes—warm and sticky, pussy twitching the moment your tongue touches it. You groan into him, suckled in like you’ve been starving, like you need him to breathe. And Minho? He’s already moaning, back arched, one hand in your hair and the other clutching the cushions like you’re fucking him with your mouth.

Your tongue drags slow over his slit, and Minho gasps—hips bucking despite himself. His thighs are already trembling, spreading wider over your shoulders as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is. Maybe you’ve made it that way. He doesn’t even try to hide how wet he is, how swollen his pussy’s gotten from you just looking at him.

“You’re drooling,” he breathes, voice laced with smug arousal, “so disgusting.”

You groan into him, tongue dipping into his fluttering hole as your fingers press into the meat of his thighs, spreading him wider, pulling him open. “I can’t help it,” you whisper, voice wrecked. “You’re too fucking pretty. I want to live down here.”

“Then stay,” Minho says softly, and you look up—

—his eyes are half-lidded and shining, lips bitten raw, cheeks flushed. He’s got that same expression you dream about: smug yet ruined, like he’s got you wrapped around his little finger and wants to break you with it.

You bury yourself deeper, tongue fucking into him with purpose now, nose pressed to the slick mess between his folds as your fingers reach up to stroke his thighs, his hips, the little strip of skin above his clit that makes him gasp out loud.

“I’ll cum if you don’t stop,” he warns, breath catching, “and then I’ll get greedy.”

You smile into his cunt. “Good.”

You don’t let up. You eat him out like you’ve forgotten anything else exists—tongue curling and licking and sucking, lips sloppily devouring every drip of slick he gives you. You feel his pussy clamp around your tongue, feel the tension roll through his whole body as he tugs at your hair and writhes in your grip.

He cries out when he cums, the sound sharp and sweet, his back arching clear off the couch. You hold him down, licking him through it until his thighs twitch and he’s squealing from overstimulation, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

You pull back with a wet kiss to his inner thigh. “Princess tastes so fucking good.”

Minho lets out a shaky laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re the one that made me like this.”

“You’ve always been like this.”

He’s still trembling when he shifts onto his side, shorts hanging from one ankle, legs sticky and shining with your spit. His eyes follow you as you sit back on the couch—your cock straining against your sweats now, fully hard, precum staining the waistband.

“You’re gonna take care of that, right?” Minho murmurs, crawling toward you. “Can’t let your princess do all the work.”

You expect him to drop to his knees and suck you off, like he’s done a dozen times before. But instead, he straddles your lap, kissing you open-mouthed and messy, grinding against your cock until your hands settle on his hips.

“Need you,” he breathes, voice breaking. “I want you inside. Now.”

“Min,” you whisper, “we just—”

“I don’t care,” he whines, gripping your shoulders as he lifts himself and lines you up. “I want you. I want to feel you again. I want to keep you in me forever.”

You don’t even try to argue.

He sinks down onto your cock with a breathy moan, pussy still wet and open from your tongue, welcoming you back like he was made for it. You groan, head dropping back against the couch as he fully sheathes himself, his thighs quivering around your waist.

“Fuck, you’re so warm—so tight still,” you pant, holding his hips as he starts to move.

But he shakes his head, hands pressing to your chest. “No. Don’t fuck me. Not yet.”

You blink. “Then—what?”

“Just sit. Let me warm you.”

You can barely hold in your whimper.

Minho curls against your chest, arms wrapping around your shoulders, cock pressed to your stomach as he sighs through his nose. His pussy clenches around you in slow, steady waves, like he’s savoring the stretch, letting you rest inside him without moving—but still making sure you feel every inch of him.

“I’m gonna ride you later,” he murmurs, “when you’re at your desk, pretending to work. I’m just gonna climb in your lap and sit on your cock like this… and not say a word until you beg me to move.”

You groan into his shoulder. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I want to,” he whispers, licking a stripe up your neck. “I want to ruin you for anything that isn’t me. I want to make you sick with it.”

You believe him.

Your cock twitches inside him, and he smiles, biting down on your shoulder as you finally start to grind up into him. Slow. Gentle. Lazy. The kind of rhythm that says we’ve got all day and I’m never pulling out.

“I love when you’re inside me,” he murmurs, clutching your shirt. “Even when I’m not cumming. Even when you’re just… holding me open.”

You press your face into his hair, wrap your arms around his waist, and keep your hips rolling.

“I could stay like this forever.”

extra scenes (2) below

Under the Table

You’re trying to finish emails on your laptop, legs crossed under the table, coffee long since gone cold beside you. Minho’s been quiet for a while, curled up on the floor in an oversized tee, pretending to scroll on his phone.

But then he shifts.

He slides under the table without a word, crawls into the space between your legs and rests his cheek on your thigh, nuzzling you through your sweats. You keep typing for a few more seconds, pretending to ignore him, until his fingers curl into your waistband and tug.

“Baby…” he says, voice muffled. “Can I have it?”

You don’t say yes. You don’t have to.

He pulls your cock out, eyes fluttering as it presses against his cheek, heavy and flushed. He lifts your shirt and slides your cock into him—not his mouth. His pussy.

Wet. Warm. Welcoming.

Minho straddles your thigh, folds spread open as he sinks down slowly, whining as he takes every inch. You groan, hands hovering over your keyboard, as he settles fully onto your lap, cock snug inside him.

“I won’t move,” he whispers, breathless. “Promise. Just need you in me.”

He stays like that the whole time you work—his heat pulsing around you, walls clenching when you get too focused. He doesn’t ride. Doesn’t beg. Just warms you, as promised. Until your hands leave the keyboard, and your fingers curl under his shirt, and you lose the will to pretend.

Middle of the Night

It’s 3:12 AM when you feel it.

Minho stirs beside you in bed, half-asleep and boneless, his bare thigh hooking over yours. He presses his body close—chest to your side, cheek on your shoulder—and lifts the covers without saying anything.

You feel him reach between your legs, guiding your half-hard cock to his entrance, slick and already aching for you.

“Can’t sleep,” he whispers. “Need you.”

You’re groggy, barely awake, but your body knows exactly what to do. You shift your hips and let him sink down onto you, slow and warm and perfect. He hums softly, nuzzling into your neck as he settles fully.

“Just stay like this,” he mumbles. “I’ll fall asleep like this. Just keep me full.”

You wrap your arms around his waist, hold him close, and let him fall asleep cockwarming you—pussy twitching in little spasms every time you breathe.

thanks for 570 followers btw :)

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revelboo · 1 day ago

Note

Would it be okay to request an Inexperienced scenario with Brainstorm and Perceptor? I love your writing for the inexperienced scenarios and as a girlie who hasn't been with anyone, I heart setting my first into the hands (or servos, in this case) with the scientists.

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mechs 🌶️ fem bits mentioned

Inexperienced

Brainstorm x Reader x Perceptor

• Flustered as they both wait for your answer, you chew on your bottom lip. After spending all your time with them, getting to know them both and falling in love, the three of you haven’t gotten that far, the two bots trying to let you move at your own pace. Which has been glacially slow. Apparently not realizing you’re too shy to make a move, too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done this before, that you’re inexperienced when it’s obvious they’re not. They’ve invited you to join them, coaxed you, but you keep hesitating.

• You’re going to say no again. You always do and even though he tries not to take it personally, Brainstorm can’t help but wonder if it’s him. If you’d say yes if it was only Perceptor asking you. Knows he can be a lot, that he’s too opinionated sometimes, but if he doesn’t speak up, it feels like he fades into the background. But when you smile at him? Or ask questions and listen to him explain his projects? He feels seen. Validated in a way he’s desperate for. Loves Perceptor, but the bot can get lost in his own work and doesn’t always have time for him. And he worries that if he asks for more, Percy might resent it. Resent him.

• “We’re not trying to pressure you” Perceptor says, and he vents loudly when Brainstorm mutters ‘I am.’ Glaring tiredly at the other bot as he shrugs, Perceptor reaches out a hand and smiles when you lay your hand in his, let him run his servos over the back of your hand, feeling your warmth and your delicate bones under the skin. So unlike them. ‘It’s just interfacing, no big deal,’ Brainstorm adds as your face flushes, shoulders lifting slightly. Embarrassed. “We don’t mind waiting for you to feel comfortable with this,” Perceptor says and he kicks Brainstorm when he growls that he does mind.

• Flustered as you look from one to the other, then to your hand in Percy’s, his servo sliding against you. He’s always so patient where Brainstorm is all demands, the two polarized so you feel like you’re being pulled in two different directions sometimes. Falling for both of them for different reasons and when they’d explained that they didn’t mind sharing, that they were already together and wanted you with them, it had been surprising. But you’d wanted to say yes that first time. “You’re not. It’s just, I haven’t done this before,” you manage and Brainstorm clears his vents. ‘What? Threesomes?’ Well, that, too. “No, sex,” you whisper, wishing the floor could open up under you and swallow you as they both just freeze, staring at you. Judging. Know they’re judging, because you’re judging yourself.

• That wasn’t what he’d expected. And Brainstorm just stares at you as you avoid their optics. That’s why you keep shutting them down? “So I could be your first?” He growls, spike stirring behind his modesty panel at the thought and Perceptor’s optics narrow. “Ruin you completely for fleshy, human spikes and valves?” Grinning behind his mask as you just put your face in your hands, he knows Percy is about to punch him most likely, but he can’t let go of that thought. Needs to be the first to touch you, to have your trust, feel you come apart.

• Why is he like this? Venting as he gently squeezes your hand to get your attention away from Brainstorm, Perceptor smiles. “We’d take care of you. Go slow and if you want to stop, we can,” he coaxes, thankful that Brainstorm has the sense to not contradict him. Because if you want to stop, they will even if he has to drag the other bot away. ‘Okay,’ you say, voice so soft he almost misses it. Trusting them.

• Percy tugs you gently into him, his free hand cupping your jaw and neck as his mouth covers yours. And Brainstorm squirms his palms down your pants, startling you as he growls against the back of your neck. You lose track of whose hands are where, whose mouth is on your neck, your shoulder. Stripping with Brainstorm’s impatient help, hearing Percy growling at him to slow down. Every touch heating your blood, hearing their fans click on, the rumbling and heat of their internal systems against you. Naked, you’re eased down, lying back against Perceptor as Brainstorm’s mask retracts and his cheek brushes your inner thigh, those weird cables at the corners of his mouth rubbing against you. Self conscious as the bot between your thighs vents, mouth sliding against your inner thigh before his lips brush you and you arch with a gasp.

• Glossa sliding against you as one of your heels squeaks on the berth as you try to push back, to escape him. And that’s not happening even if Percy wasn’t holding you. Mouth exploring your softness, tasting you, he growls. You’re alien, but your valve is familiar enough, but so soft, silken and slick inside. Finds the little nub of your node and you squirm when he sucks it. Your hands land on his helm, hips trembling. Not pushing him away, though.

• Cheek brushing yours as Brainstorm growls against you, Perceptor listens to your soft whimpers and moans. Sliding his hands over your heated skin as you buck your hips against the other mech’s mouth to urge him on. “If he does a good job, he can have a reward,” Perceptor murmurs and Brainstorm’s optics flick up to him hungrily. It’s a promise and a reminder that you’re trusting yourself to them to be your first, to be your mates.

• Squirming when his mouth on you feels like it’s almost too much, you gasp and your head falls back against Percy, grabbing onto one of his arms wrapped around you as you heat and Brainstorm doesn’t ease up. Your climax taking you by surprise as you cry out, feeling his glossa sliding against you, inside you. And Brainstorm rears up over you both, a hand braced on Percy’s shoulder before he kisses the other bot with your taste on his glossa to make you shiver as you’re pinned between them.

• Glossa sliding against Percy’s, Brainstorm rumbles as he releases his spike to pressurize against your belly, feeling you squirm between them. “I was promised a reward,” he growls when his head lifts, lips twitching. And Percy shakes his head at him, pushing until he backs off and Percy cups your cheek. ‘Come here.’ Brainstorm grips your hips, lifting you up to settle you against Perceptor’s mouth as the bot’s hands cup your sides. “Percy.” Smirking when the bot finally releases his modesty panels to reveal his valve and spike. Letting him choose which he wants.

• Staring up at you as his mouth slides against you, you’re already so slick from Brainstorm, but Perceptor wants to make sure you’re ready to take them both. And he groans as Brainstorm’s spike spears into him, hips snapping. Taking the edge off with him so he can go slow with you. Hopefully. You’re getting more confident, moving against his mouth as he sucks and licks and Brainstorm ruts into him. Right where you finally belong.

• You’re still humming from your last release, sure that you can’t come again and your body surprises you as he sucks you clit. And you’re depending on Preceptor’s hands for balance as you come apart, rocking against his mouth as Brainstorm drives into Percy, hearing the sharp sound of Brainstorm’s hips smacking into him. “Ride me, you set the pace,” Percy groans and you look back at his erect spike. “Take as much as you want.”

• Pausing mid thrust and buried deep when you look back at him uncertainly, Brainstorm reaches for you. Grinding against Percy, the bot’s thighs on either side of his hips, he helps you scoot back. Needing to move and to help get you settled, so his jaw is working with the effort to not pound into Percy. Wants to see you ride Percy. Then take him. Helping you lift up, face flushed as he reaches between your thighs and helps guide Percy’s spike to you. “Go slow,” he rumbles, watching you rock your hips hesitantly. Then press down and gasp. “Slow.”

• Hands on your hips as you hesitantly move on him, rocking yourself against his spike, Perceptor groans watching you. The head of his spike not even inside you yet and he’s struggling to be still, to not move with you teasing him and Brainstorm’s spike stretching him. “We can take a break if you need it,” he growls, almost certain you’re too tight to take him yet. That you’re going to hurt yourself trying.

• Slow. Hips rocking as you tease yourself with the slight burn of his spike stretching you, unable to look away from Percy’s hungry expression as he watches you. His and Brainstorm’s hands on you, helping support you so you don’t sink down on him too suddenly. Their patience so unexpected as you press down a bit, hips rolling and you tremble as the head of his spike suddenly sinks into you. And your head falls back against Brainstorm as you gasp. Feeling Percy stretching you, feeling the burn of him filling you, the pressure uncomfortable, edging into painful as you rock yourself and your heart goes racing.

• “Look at Percy. Feel good?” Brainstorm asks, trying to distract you as you tremble, breathing growing quick. Feels you trembling against his chassis as you squirm, getting used to the feel of Percy’s spike inside you. And he’s growling as he begins moving inside Percy, his thrusts rocking you on Percy. “He’s ours, isn’t he? His spike, his valve. Those belong to us.” Feeling when you take a deep, shuddering breath and begin to move with slow movements. Growing more confident as you go and his hands slide against your skin. “Let’s frag him senseless.” Hears you moan, head back against him as you ride Percy in uncertain little movements. Fascinated with watching you figure out what you enjoy, what feels good to you. Because you’re theirs.

• Denta gritted as you ride him and Brainstorm’s hips pump, Perceptor arches. You’re going so slow it’s almost torture as Brainstorm ruts into him. Your need dark eyes and soft noises off pleasure, Brainstorm’s snarls, and his own groans mingle together. And Brainstorm swears, hips snapping against him as he overloads, the heat of the other bot filling him tipping him over the edge and you fist his spike as he releases inside you and his head falls back, venting raggedly.

Starscream plushies

If any of you work in a doctor’s office and are tasked with calling with test results- if someone asks you a question you’re not 100% certain of, please don’t give the patient an answer. Just say you don’t know, so they don’t get blindsided when they go in for a follow up.

#transformers x reader #brainstorm x reader #mtmte brainstorm #perceptor x reader #perceptor #valveplug

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junnieverse · 3 days ago

Text

DADDY DAY CARE ➳ H. DONGMIN

➙ synopsis: with you at work due to an emergency and taesan having the weekend off from his own job, this was the perfect time for him to spend some quality time with his daughter.

pairing: han taesan x afab!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.0k

warning: not proofread, set in the future where taesan is much older (like late 20s), domestic husband taesan may melt your heart

a/n: this was originally in my drafts (for a very, and i mean VERY long time- like years) written for hanbin, but since I no longer write for zb1 and I found taesan’s interactions with babies so cute, this seemed like the perfect member to go with

a/n (2): taesan never beating the girl dad allegations <3 [ REBLOGS HIGHLY APPRECIATED! ]

“Okay, I have to get going now or I’m gonna be late. Remember she has to have her nap time at one or she’ll get grumpy. And do NOT let her eat a lot of sugar.”

Going through the last of your instructions, your husband only nods as your glare softens at the sight of your 11 month old daughter cradled in his arms.

“Bye my butterfly, mommy loves you so so much.” you litter kisses all over her chubby little cheeks as giggles erupt from her.

Turning back to your husband again, you also give him his own well deserved peck on the lips before he speaks up, “don’t worry honey, I got this. Butterfly and I are gonna be perfectly fine.”

Nodding, you let out one last silent prayer for your house and child to be in one piece by the time you come back and make your way out feeling your heart hurting having to leave your family even if it would be for just a few hours.

It was a weekend but your boss had called you in to work to finish up some last minute preparations for a presentation your team had been working on seeing as some issues had arose and your help was needed to fix it.

Luckily for you, your husband, found this as the perfect chance to bond with your daughter since he rarely got to spend much time with just her alone.

With the unexpected call into work, Taesan offered to stay home with your daughter, whom you referred to by her nickname “butterfly” which Taesan himself had started calling her ever since finding out you were both having a girl during your pregnancy.

You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t a bit hesitant at first. Despite how incredible of a husband and father Taesan was, this would be his first time being on "daddy duties", as he called them, on his own and you were just hoping he would be able to handle it.

“Okay butterfly. How about getting ready to go out for a walk with me huh, since mommy already gave you breakfast.” he asks the baby in his arms as she only smiles back, probably at the mention of her dearest mom.

Now Taesan had his own personal style he liked keeping to, but he could admit that getting his daughter dressed was simply not his forte.

Placing the little girl down on her playmat as she grabbed a nearby building block enamoured by the colours, Taesan turned his attention to her closet faced with his first challenge of the day.

Letting out a huff, his hands rest on his hips as his foot lightly taps on the floor with his eyes scanning the rack of various clothes.

"What do we think butterfly, are we feeling more colourful with glitter today or do you want sequins?" he asks turning to the preoccupied baby who only babbles back in response as her form of communication.

"Both it is!"

Pulling out a pastel-coloured and sequinned dress from the hanger, a pair of white frilly socks, and silver glittery ballet flats with little bows on the front to complete the entire look.

"Wow bun, I'd say I did a pretty good job don't you think~" he once again asks admiring his style of work cooing at the baby as he blows raspberries into her stomach making her laugh as he smiled.

Next, he grabbed her little ribbons as he sat down behind her preparing to tie her hair just as he had watched you do all the time.

For a good five minutes he seemed to struggle seeing as his very playful daughter couldn't sit still wanting to play with all the toys around her.

Like a cartoonish lightbulb moment hitting him, Taesan takes his silver Chrome Hearts necklace off dangling the chain in front of his daughter catching her attention.

"Look at the shiny necklace butterfly, play with this so daddy can do your hair please." he pleads as her tiny grasp reaches for the necklace quietly observing the new object with high interest.

Taesan exhales in relief as she was now sitting quietly playing with the necklace around her neck as he attempted to part her hair in two to give her little space buns.

"And... done." he huffs adding the last yellow bow to her head admiring her hair.

Evidently skew and still mildly unkept with a few curls falling out, he was proud of his first attempt at doing her hair having expected it to look a lot worse.

With butterfly in the carrier on his chest, tucked and secured, Taesan decided to use the late morning to get his daily steps in and let the both of them get some fresh air and sun for the day.

Making a stop by a nearby ice cream truck, he orders himself one before sitting by the bench watching the kids nearby play as he enjoyed his soft serve ice cream.

"Don't think I didn't notice you eyeing my ice cream missy. You want some? No, you can't have any~" he teases her inching the ice cream near her as she opens her mouth, only to pull it away and lick it as she watched.

Her small face suddenly changed as her eyes began to water and her pout full on display growing upset at her dad's teasing.

"Wait no no- don't cry butterfly. Here, have some. But don't tell mommy about this, let's keep it between us." he pinky promises as he joins his pinky with her tiny one making him internally scream from the cuteness aggression.

Carefully letting her lick some ice cream, her smile grows back and he leans down to kiss her forehead.

"You just have daddy wrapped around your tiny finger don't you." he rhetorically asks noticing some ice cream on her nose.

His camera on his phone open, Taesan captures the moment quickly, saving the picture as his new wallpaper as he chuckles to himself realising she still had his necklace around her neck this entire time.

Giving her some of her own puffs to snack on for the time being, your husband made sure to send you short clips and pictures throughout the day of him and butterfly to show you that they were both still doing well and missing you, her words, not his, according to him.

It was small moments like this Taesan enjoyed most.

Due to the nature and demand of his job, he didn't get to spend as much time as he would've liked to with both you and your daughter. But when he did get the chance, he made sure to cherish every little moment because you were both his favourite people.

Looking down at his daughter, he notices the small yawn escape past her lips and noticing the time on his phone, Taesan realised it was nearing her nap time and decided that was enough outside time for them both.

It was now 1:23pm and Taesan was now faced with his next challenge.

Butterfly was meant to be long asleep, but after changing into her onesie to get comfortable, she was seemingly putting up a fight wanting to stay up with her dad.

She had been fighting to stay awake that it started to frustrate her because her body also knew it was naptime, making her a very grumpy grouch.

This gave Taesan the bright to try and wear out her energy until she couldn't stay up from the exhaustion.

"Daddy brought you some paper, so how about we make some fun art for mommy instead?" he placed all the markers and glitter down knowing she would just scribble all over and make a mess, which he would have to clean up before you came back later.

Picking up whichever colour caught her attention first, Taesan opened the lid for her showing her what to do for her to mimic his actions and she was quick to follow along.

Unbeknownst to him, when Taesan had left the room to answer his ringing phone he had left in the living room, the glitter was left unattended and open for butterfly to have her own little fun.

Tipping the bottle over, the pink glitter spills onto the playmat and she reaches for some glitter as it sticks all over her hands. Her next mistake being she reached for her face leaving remnants of it all over her and her clothes in an attempt to get the weird substance off her hands.

Making his way back into the room, Taesan gasps in horror at the scene in front of him, rushing to his daughter he grabs the wet wipes trying to wipe off whatever he could, some of it still being stubborn on her.

Continuing their little arts and crafts, the man only surrenders to his daughter as she uses the washable markers to draw all over his arm, the paper long forget on the side which she should've been using.

Taesan was evidently whipped for you, without a doubt, but his daughter truly had his entire heart and he would give her anything and everything... even if it meant being used as her little art canvas for a few minutes to keep her entertained.

Yawning himself, he looks at the clock on the wall which read 1:45pm, which was well past butterfly's bed time and she too seemed to be growing tired.

"Time to pack these away butterfly and I'll read you a story to sleep." he gently says as he slowly packs everything back into it's place and grabbing Little Red Riding Hood to read to her.

He picks her up chuckling at how messing her hair had become over the course of her fussing and playing with some glitter still prominent on her cheeks.

Laying down on the playmat himself, he lays his daughter on his chest as he opens the storybook onto the first page.

Beginning to read to her as he interchanges her one hand to hold the book up as the other goes back and forth between stroking her back softly and flipping the pages of the book.

As he nears the end of the story, he hears soft snores and feels her light breathing notifying him she had successfully fell asleep.

Closing the book beside him, he notices the left mess of glitter from before sighing in exhaustion.

"I'll clean that up after a short nap with butterfly." he mumbles to himself as his own tiredness catches up with him closing his eyes letting the sleep take over.

You step into the house kicking your shoes off as a sigh of relief escapes past your lips letting your toes finally breathe after hours of working in those mildly shoes.

Having expected to walk into either the smell of something burning in the kitchen or at least be greeted by your loving husband and daughter, you’re instead met with complete silence.

“My babies~ I’m back home. Please tell me you’re both still alive.” you speak out into the open, cackling softly at your own joke, only to get no response in return.

Making your way around the house quietly, you go into your daughter’s room and find a scene you were least expecting to see.

On the floor, both your favourite people were fast asleep cuddling each other.

Taesan snores softly with butterfly on his chest sound asleep, light snores matching her father’s, her hair wild and unkept and glitter all over the two of them and the floor beside them.

Quietly tiptoeing towards the two, you kneel down placing a light blanket on top of them to keep them warm before adding soft pecks onto both of their foreheads.

Your hand gently brushes the loose strands of hair to the side covering your husband’s face, you look down and notice the scribble marks all over his arm and a small smile grows over your face only imagining what these two had gotten up to while you were away.

In most instances you wouldn’t be happy at the sight of the mess in front of you, but your heart couldn’t help but melt instead seemingly content at the turnout of your perfect little family.

You truly couldn’t ask for anything more.

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4linos · 1 day ago

Text

when the past knocks 2

seo changbin x f!reader, kim seungmin x f!reader

synopsis: you left to protect your son and yourself. but healing gets complicated when old ghosts return… and one of them still makes you laugh.

genre/warnings: angst, infidelity, emotional manipulation, grief, jealousy, unresolved feelings, slow burn, hurt/comfort.

wc: 16,998.

[when the past knocks part 1]

The morning felt like it had arrived too soon, dragging its weight across your chest, suffocating you with its inevitability. You had barely slept, your mind cycling through the words you and Seungmin had exchanged the night before, the look in his eyes when he saw the texts, the way everything seemed to snap so suddenly, everything falling apart in ways you never thought possible. You tossed and turned, trying to find some comfort in the bed that used to feel like home. But tonight, it felt like a cold, empty void between the two of you.

You had hoped maybe things would be different when you woke up. Maybe Seungmin would be there, sitting on the edge of the bed, tired from the fight but still here, still trying. But no.

The bed was already cold on his side.

You blinked, feeling an uncomfortable lump form in your throat as you pushed yourself up, rubbing your eyes, trying to force your body into action despite the exhaustion that clung to your limbs. The room felt too big, the silence almost suffocating.

You checked the bathroom connected to the bedroom, still expecting to see him there, even though you knew, deep down that he wouldn’t be. But maybe… maybe there would be something. A reason to hope that things hadn’t gone as far as they felt. But the bathroom was empty, and so was the small corner where he had placed his bag the night before.

His things were gone.

The clothes he had brought back with him, the ones he hadn’t bothered to put back in a suitcase, but had just tossed over the back of a chair were no longer there. There was no sign of him at all.

It felt like something heavy and sharp pressed against your chest. Not anger, not even frustration. Just hurt.

You wanted to be angry. You wanted to tell yourself that you should be relieved, that this was for the best. But you couldn’t. You loved him. You still loved him. And despite the lies, the betrayal, and the damage he’d done to you and your son, you couldn’t erase the love. You hated how it still clung to you, how it refused to leave, no matter how broken things were.

You called out for him softly, almost like a question. “Seungmin?”

There was no answer.

You walked downstairs slowly, feeling the weight of every step. You knew your mother would be down there by now, probably waiting with a warm breakfast as she always did. She was still trying to hold things together. You could feel the weight of her expectations, the hope in her eyes every time you walked in, the way she didn’t want to admit that something might be wrong.

When you got downstairs, your mother was in the kitchen, moving around the stove. Roan’s laughter echoed from the other room, a reminder of how normal everything was on the surface. But you felt like you were living in a different world. You cleared your throat, trying to sound casual, but the words still came out quieter than you intended.

“Mom, have you seen Seungmin?”

She paused, turning slightly, her expression unreadable. And then it softened, just a little, though it didn’t stop her from giving you a look. A look that wasn’t judgment, but concern. The kind of concern that mothers reserve for their children when they’re trying so hard to hold everything together, even when it’s falling apart.

“He left early this morning,” she said, a quiet finality in her voice. “Caught him leaving around 4 a.m. Said he had to go into the office today. He thanked me for letting him stay.”

Your stomach turned.

You nodded, trying to pretend it didn’t hurt to hear that. Trying to act like it was fine. “Okay,” you muttered, your voice thin and strained.

But she didn’t buy it. She stepped closer, crossing her arms in a way that told you she wasn’t going to let you off that easy. She studied you for a second, searching your face like she was trying to read some kind of clue.

“What’s going on with you two, huh? I thought you’d be working things out by now. I really thought it was just a bump in the road. After all these years, I figured it would be fixable.” Her voice cracked just a little, and it caught you off guard.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to just collapse right there in front of her. You felt the weight of everything you hadn’t said. The weight of everything you had been holding back.

And for a brief moment, you almost thought about telling her everything, the truth, raw and exposed. That Seungmin had destroyed your trust, that the marriage was over, that there was no easy fix to this. But when you looked at her, you saw the years of hope, the way she had loved Seungmin like her own son. You saw the way she still believed in the “happy ending” for the family she’d always dreamed of.

You couldn’t break her, too.

So you lied.

“It’s fine, Mom. We’re just… working through things. It’s been tough, you know? But we’re figuring it out.”

She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she didn’t push either. Her eyes softened, but she couldn’t hide the doubt in them.

“Well,” she said, her voice tightening, “he left early this morning, said he wanted to give you some space. I heard you two arguing last night.” Her voice dropped a little. “You didn’t seem like things were fine then.”

Your heart skipped. She heard you?

But you couldn’t react, not now. Not when everything felt like it was already on the edge.

You forced a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We’re just… having a hard time communicating right now. But we’ll be okay. I’m sure we will.”

Your mother didn’t press further. She crossed her arms and looked at you with that knowing expression. “You’re sure? Because I’ve never seen you like this. You don’t have to keep pretending everything’s fine if it’s not.”

But before you could respond, Roan came bounding into the kitchen, his hair messy from sleep, a bright smile on his face. “Mom! I’m ready for breakfast!”

The moment was over, broken by the sound of your son’s excited voice. And you felt an immediate pang of guilt for lying in front of him, for pretending to be okay when everything felt like it was crumbling.

You forced yourself to smile at Roan, pushing the sadness deep down. “Okay, buddy, let’s get you something to eat.”

But your mother’s eyes lingered on you for a second longer, as if waiting for something you weren’t ready to say. Then she turned and started preparing breakfast as if nothing had happened.

The rest of the morning passed in a haze of motions. You got Roan dressed and ready for school, the conversations were light, forced, and polite. But in the back of your mind, you could feel everything shifting. The truth you weren’t telling. The love you weren’t ready to let go of.

The ping of your phone broke the quiet stillness of the morning. You were sitting at the kitchen counter, slowly sipping your coffee, eyes unfocused, trying to drown out the weight of everything. It was too early for this. The morning felt like a battle between the pull of comfort and the sharp sting of everything unraveling around you. You hadn’t heard from Seungmin all day after the night’s argument, and despite your internal pleading not to think about him, your mind had been consumed by him, by everything he was, everything you once had together.

You pulled your phone toward you. The message was from Seungmin.

It was a simple text: “Hey, can I call Roan tonight? I just want to check in on him and hear his voice.”

You stared at the message for a moment, your thumb hovering over the screen. It hurt to even acknowledge that he wasn’t here. You’d been waiting for him to step up, to take accountability, to make things right, but it wasn’t like that, was it? He had left. And now he was giving you space. Space you didn’t even know if you wanted, but were probably going to have to learn to live with.

You couldn’t blame him for needing space. You needed it too. But how do you move forward from this? How do you separate the love that’s still so strongly rooted in your heart from the anger, the betrayal, and the overwhelming sadness? You missed him so much that it physically hurt. But there was so much damage between you two.

You quickly typed a response, something simple “Yeah, that’s fine. Roan will be happy to hear from you.”

Then came the barrage of texts that you hadn't expected, each one coming faster than the last.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I left early this morning because the argument from last night made me realize we both need space.” The words were clear and deliberate, almost as if he was trying to make himself sound reasonable, calm.

“I’m going to give you all the space you need for now. Whenever you’re ready, we can sit down and talk about what’s going to happen with us… and with Roan.”

A strange, hollow feeling spread through you as you read his words. You hadn’t expected him to leave. It was just too… final. But here he was, sending these texts, acting like everything could still somehow be fixed. And deep down, you didn’t know if you wanted that. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you let your phone sit on the table while you mindlessly stirred your coffee. The silence was deafening, and you felt the ache in your chest grow. Was he right? Was space the answer? Could you and Seungmin really talk about the future? And even more confusing, did you want to?

You loved him. You still loved him. That love hadn’t faded, even in the wake of everything that had happened. Even now, despite the anger and betrayal, it felt like your heart refused to let him go.

You hated that it hurt. You hated how badly you still wanted to fix things, to hold onto the family you once had. You wanted to feel that warmth again, the kind that was once so certain between you and Seungmin. You wanted to believe it could all go back to how it was before.

But something had changed. Something else had wormed its way into your mind. And it wasn’t just Seungmin anymore.

Changbin.

His face flashed in your mind, sharp and bright like a sudden storm cutting through the fog.

It wasn’t just that you remembered him. It wasn’t just the memories of the past, of high school, of how he had always been there for you, how he'd always understood you. It wasn’t even the fact that you had spent time with him recently, reconnecting and laughing over old stories.

It was the way you felt now, in the silence after Seungmin’s texts.

The way you smiled at your phone after reading his message. The way your chest felt lighter with every word he sent, the way your thoughts drifted to him and not Seungmin.

Suddenly, you were questioning everything. The connection with Seungmin that you had once believed was unbreakable, it felt less solid now. More fragile. As though it was built on sand.

You hadn’t meant for things to get complicated again. You didn’t want to feel this pull toward Changbin. Not now. Not when everything with Seungmin was already so volatile. But it was like trying to fight the current, your thoughts kept returning to him. To the way he made you feel seen, understood, and even happy. There was no bitterness, no tension, no past mistakes haunting the space between you.

The thought of Changbin now felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the suffocating weight of the relationship with Seungmin.

And it wasn’t just about the past. It was now. You’d spent hours talking to him, laughing with him, reconnecting in ways you hadn’t expected. And even though the friendship was unexpected, there was this undeniable connection. An attraction that had been buried under the weight of your life with Seungmin, but now seemed to bubble back to the surface.

Your thoughts were scattered, tangled between the man you had married and the one who once held your heart, the one who was still somehow here, slipping back into your life.

A sharp ping broke your reverie. Another message from Seungmin.

“I just wanted to remind you that I’m here when you’re ready. For you. For Roan. Don’t shut me out.”

You felt the familiar sting of guilt. You wanted to respond. To tell him that you didn’t know what you wanted anymore, that you didn’t know if you could fix things. But you didn’t. Instead, you set your phone down and stood up.

The pull toward Changbin had unsettled you. You didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn’t deny it either.

The more you tried to push it down, the more it crept up. He was becoming a constant thought. The more you thought about him, the more the idea of Seungmin and what you had with him seemed less and less certain.

You loved Seungmin. You did. But you didn’t know if the love you had was enough to fix everything. You didn’t know if it was enough to erase the years of resentment, the lies, the unspoken words between you two.

And now, a part of you was wondering if it was possible to love someone else, someone who could actually see you. See you in a way Seungmin never had.

You leaned against the counter, feeling the weight of the decision hanging in the air, heavier than anything you had ever faced before. Would you even allow yourself to love again? Would you be willing to take the risk? Or would you bury everything, hoping that time and space would somehow heal the broken pieces of your marriage?

You couldn’t decide. Not yet.

And so, you pushed it all down, Seungmin’s texts, Changbin’s face, your emotions.

But you couldn’t escape the ache, the pull, the uncertainty.

And as the day dragged on, the questions remained.

What would you do next?

The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting soft, dappled shadows over the park as you sat on the blanket, surrounded by a picnic spread. Roan and Yuna were playing on the swings and climbing frame with the other kids, their laughter ringing through the air. It felt like a rare moment of peace, a fleeting escape from everything that had been weighing on your heart for the past few weeks.

But the conversation you were having with Changbin was the highlight of your day, as it always was. Changbin had just finished recounting one of his favorite stories from high school, one that had you laughing so hard you almost spilled the lemonade you were holding. The way he told it, with his wide grin and exaggerated gestures, made it feel like it happened yesterday.

You’d almost forgotten about that time. You and Changbin had been inseparable during those early years, always getting into some kind of trouble. But the one memory that always seemed to stand out was the time he’d tried sneaking into your room late at night, only to have your dad catch him in the act.

Changbin grinned at the memory, his eyes sparkling with amusement. ��I thought I was going to be a goner that night,” he laughed. “I was halfway through the window when your dad came storming in like a SWAT team. I don’t even know how he heard me. I thought I was being so sneaky!”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you remembered your dad’s furious face. “You were terrible at being sneaky,” you teased. “I told you not to come through the window. It was too obvious. But you still thought you could outsmart my dad.”

Changbin snorted, the memory still clearly amusing to him. “I swear, I never saw him coming. He just barged in like some kind of ninja. Then he grounded you for a month, right? It felt like a year, honestly. I couldn’t even talk to you outside of school. That was brutal.”

You nodded, your smile widening as you remembered the long, quiet days after that. “It was. My parents were furious when they found out what was going on. They never trusted you after that, especially my dad. He probably still tells that story to anyone who will listen.”

Changbin laughed again, a rich, deep sound that made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. “I can’t blame him. I deserved it. But I’d do it all over again if it meant I got to hang out with you. It was worth it. Every second of it.”

His words hit you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed hearing Changbin talk like this so open, so genuine. He had always been the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve, and even though so much had changed since high school, it still felt like you could talk to him without any pretense.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something like warmth spread through you. A comfort you hadn’t realized you were craving. It wasn’t just the carefree way he talked about the past, or the teasing banter, or even the fact that he was just here, present and sharing this moment with you, but something deeper, something that felt like a connection you hadn’t realized was waiting to be rekindled.

Since Seungmin had left, you had been living in a quiet sort of limbo. Every day had felt like a blur of uncertainty. Your interactions with Seungmin had become limited to brief texts and calls about Roan. He had asked about you a few times, but those conversations were brief, awkward, and mostly focused on logistics how Roan was doing or if he could speak with him. And while part of you appreciated the space Seungmin was giving you to think, it also left a hollow feeling in your chest.

But here, with Changbin, it felt different. You didn’t have to pretend. You didn’t have to act like everything was fine or like you had everything figured out. With Changbin, everything felt like it could be uncomplicated again, just two old friends, reminiscing about the past and sharing laughs without the weight of expectations.

You glanced over at Roan and Yuna, who were giggling as they played tag. The scene felt almost too perfect. You didn’t want to overthink it, but you couldn’t help but notice how nice it was. Roan had been so happy lately. Maybe he didn’t fully understand the complexities of what was happening between you and Seungmin, but he felt secure in the routine you had established.

You turned your gaze back to Changbin, who was still in the middle of telling another hilarious story about high school, something about the time he had accidentally ruined a school play by tripping over the curtain during his big moment on stage. You laughed and shook your head, appreciating the simplicity of the moment. It was a stark contrast to everything else that had been happening in your life lately.

You weren’t sure when things had started to shift between you and Changbin, but now it felt undeniable. The way you found yourself smiling more easily when he was around, the way he seemed to fill the space left by the absence of Seungmin’s presence. It wasn’t that you didn’t still love Seungmin. You did. That love was still buried deep in your chest, like a flickering flame that refused to go out. But what you were beginning to realize was that you couldn’t ignore the fact that being around Changbin made you feel something new, something you hadn’t felt in so long.

You had always thought that after everything that had happened with Seungmin, your heart would be closed off, shut tight. But with Changbin here, with his easygoing nature and the familiarity of old memories, it was like something inside of you was starting to open again. You didn’t know what that meant, or what would come of it, but for the first time in weeks, you felt hopeful even if it was just a little.

The conversation shifted as you both fell into a comfortable silence, watching Roan and Yuna. You could feel Changbin’s eyes on you, but you didn’t turn to meet his gaze immediately. Instead, you focused on the moment, the quiet warmth of the afternoon, the soft rustle of the leaves above, the laughter of the kids echoing in the distance.

When you did turn to face him, he was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place like he was carefully considering something. You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“What?” you asked, your tone light.

Changbin seemed to hesitate for a moment, his smile faltering just slightly before he spoke. “I’m just glad we’re doing this.”

You blinked, not quite understanding. “Doing what?”

He shrugged, a little sheepish now. “This. Hanging out. It feels good, you know? Like it’s... easy. Like it always should have been.”

You felt something catch in your chest at his words, but you didn’t know what to say. So, instead, you just nodded, your throat suddenly tight. The silence stretched between you both, but it was a comfortable one, a shared understanding that something more was blossoming between you. Something you weren’t ready to name yet, but something you couldn’t ignore either.

And for the first time in a long while, the weight of your life didn’t feel quite so heavy.

The atmosphere between you and Changbin shifted subtly when he asked about Seungmin. The once-easy banter faltered, replaced by a quiet tension that neither of you could ignore. Changbin’s voice was careful when he spoke, as if weighing his words before asking.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he began, “but... what happened with Seungmin? If you’re okay sharing, that is. I just... I want to understand.”

He paused, letting the silence settle, as if giving you the space to decide how much, if anything, you wanted to share. You could see it in his eyes, a mix of concern, empathy, and the deep care he always had for you. It made the weight of your emotions even heavier.

You took a deep breath, looking over at Roan as he ran around the playground, his laughter ringing in your ears. He was so full of life, unaware of the storm you were weathering on the inside. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been holding in until that moment, how much had been left unsaid for weeks. Now, with Changbin’s patient gaze on you, it felt like the dam was finally starting to crack.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you said, your voice quiet. You reached for the bottle of water in front of you, your fingers trembling slightly as you picked it up. The coolness of the bottle felt oddly grounding. “I guess... I started noticing something was off about four months ago.”

Changbin’s eyes never left you, his expression soft but expectant. He wasn’t rushing you, but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you said. You drew a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as the memory unfolded.

“It was subtle at first. Just... little things. He came home one night, and I could smell this strong perfume on him. It wasn’t mine. I tried to convince myself it was nothing, just some mistake. But I knew something was wrong. I never doubted Seungmin. How could I? He’d never given me a reason to, not once in all the years we’ve been together. But that night, I couldn’t ignore it.”

You paused, glancing at Roan again, his carefree joy in stark contrast to the ache you were feeling. You pushed through the tightness in your chest and continued, the words feeling heavier the more you spoke.

“Then, there was this one day, I had to borrow Seungmin’s car because mine was in the shop. I was just picking up lunch for him when I found something, something that didn’t belong to me. A necklace. It had a letter on it. Her initial. The woman he’d been seeing behind my back.”

Your voice caught at the end, but you fought to keep it steady. Changbin’s face had shifted, his brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, as if he could feel the hurt radiating from you. He didn’t say anything, just nodded slightly, signaling for you to keep going.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first. I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t what I thought it was. That I was just being paranoid. But then... I met her.”

The words were hard to get out, like they had been sitting in your throat for so long, just waiting to spill out. But now that you were saying them aloud, it felt like the weight on your chest was increasing by the second. You swallowed hard, but your throat felt dry.

“I went to Seungmin’s office one day to drop off a file he’d forgotten for him. And there she was. Wearing the exact same necklace. The one I found in his car. And Seungmin—Seungmin introduced us like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t a huge blow to everything I thought I knew about him. It... it hurt more than I could even explain.”

You paused, squeezing your eyes shut, not wanting to relive it but unable to stop the memories from flooding in. The way Seungmin had smiled at you when he introduced you both, like he didn’t even know how badly it would shatter you. How the world seemed to spin out of control in that moment.

“I didn’t know what to do. I was surrounded by his coworkers. I didn’t have the courage to confront him, not there, not in front of everyone. I just—” you stopped yourself, taking another shaky breath. “I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t. But later that night, I heard him on the phone with her. I just... I don’t know. It all started to spiral from there. I couldn’t pretend anymore. I knew what was going on. I knew he was seeing her.”

Changbin’s expression darkened as you spoke, his fists clenched slightly in his lap, clearly frustrated at the whole situation. He leaned forward, his voice low and steady as he spoke.

“You didn’t deserve that, you know?” he said, his words filled with genuine anger. “I don’t know how someone can do that to you. To betray your trust like that. You trusted him. You gave him everything, and he threw it away.”

You nodded, the sting of his words cutting deeper than you expected. You had been trying to hold it together for so long, but hearing Changbin’s words, hearing the sincerity in his voice, broke something inside you. You exhaled slowly, trying to push the tears back.

“I never expected it from him. Everyone always said Seungmin was head over heels for me. And for the longest time, I believed it. I felt it too. He made me feel like I was the only one in the world. But somewhere, somewhere along the way, he fell for someone else. And that was the hardest part.”

Your voice cracked as the weight of that realization settled in. You had loved Seungmin with everything you had. You had built a life together. A family. And to see him so easily slip away from you for someone else felt like the ground had been ripped out from under your feet.

Changbin’s hand reached out instinctively, resting gently on yours. The contact was warm, grounding, and it felt like a lifeline in the sea of confusion you were drowning in. You looked at him, grateful for his presence, for his understanding.

“I can’t believe he did that to you,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your hand in a comforting gesture. “You’re worth so much more than that. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are. Someone who doesn’t take you for granted. And I hate that he didn’t see that.”

The words were a balm, soothing a part of you that had been raw for so long. For a brief moment, you let yourself lean into the comfort of Changbin’s presence. You couldn’t fix the past, and you weren’t sure where things would go with Seungmin, but you felt a flicker of hope for the first time in a long time, and it scared you.

But it also made you wonder if maybe, just maybe, you had been holding onto a broken piece of your heart for far too long. And perhaps it was time to let it go, to allow yourself to heal, to move on.

You didn’t know what the future held. But right now, with Changbin by your side, with Roan laughing in the background, it felt like maybe, just maybe, you could start to breathe again.

You sat there for a few more moments, with Changbin’s hand still resting on yours. The sunlight was warm on your face, and the sounds of Roan and Yuna’s laughter filled the air, but it felt like everything else around you had momentarily faded. You didn’t have to say anything, because somehow, you knew Changbin understood. He wasn’t pressing for more details, nor was he making you feel like you had to explain yourself further. He was simply there, being the kind of person you’d always hoped for someone who didn’t shy away from the hard things but stayed right alongside you when they needed to be faced.

You glanced up at him, catching the way he was looking at you, his expression soft but intense, as if he were silently willing you to let go of the weight you had been carrying for so long.

“I never wanted to be in this situation,” you said quietly, breaking the silence, your voice carrying the weight of everything unsaid up until this point. “But somehow, I ended up here. I don’t even know how to fix things with Seungmin anymore.”

Changbin squeezed your hand lightly, offering you a gentle smile. “You don’t have to fix everything right now. It’s okay to be uncertain. It’s okay to not have all the answers. I think you’ve been carrying the burden of that relationship for so long that you haven’t been able to see what you deserve outside of it. But whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”

The sincerity in his words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. You hadn’t realized how much you needed someone to tell you that it was okay to not have everything figured out, that you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone. You had been so focused on trying to keep everything together, on being the strong one for Roan, for your family, that you hadn’t even given yourself permission to feel the depth of the hurt, the confusion, the loss.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but Changbin heard it. And that was enough.

For a long while, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, watching Roan and Yuna run back and forth across the playground. It felt like the world had, in some small way, started to right itself. Maybe not everything was fixed yet, but for the first time in a while, you could see the potential for it.

At some point, Roan and Yuna ran back to you, both of them breathless and flushed from all the running around. Roan immediately climbed up next to you, his small body pushing against yours as he asked for a sip of your water. You laughed softly, ruffling his hair and handing him the bottle.

“What were you two up to?” you asked, keeping your voice light, your mind momentarily distracted by the sight of Changbin’s easy smile as he chatted with Yuna about something funny that had happened while they were playing.

Roan took a long sip from the bottle before answering, “We were pretending to be superheroes! I was saving Yuna from the bad guys, and she was helping me stop them!” His eyes were wide with excitement, and for a moment, you just let yourself soak in his joy, feeling the weight of your earlier conversation lift just a little bit.

“Sounds like a good time,” you said, smiling at both of them.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourself feeling a little lighter. The heaviness that had been in your chest wasn’t gone, but it felt less suffocating. You spent the rest of the time at the park talking to Changbin about random things, movies you’d loved, music you’d both forgotten about. Every now and then, Changbin’s eyes would flick to you, that soft, understanding look never leaving his face. You caught it once or twice, and it made your heart ache in a way you didn’t expect.

But you didn’t pull away. You let yourself feel it. The way he was there for you. How his friendship, his steady presence, made you feel like maybe you could take the next step forward, even if you weren’t sure exactly what that step was.

Eventually, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, and it was time to leave. Roan reluctantly agreed to head home, his energy starting to wane from all the running around. You packed up the blanket and snacks, your mind still wrapped in the thoughts of Seungmin, but also the subtle comfort of the moment you had shared with Changbin.

Life with Changbin was easy. Too easy, sometimes. You found yourself laughing more, smiling more, and just... feeling more than you had in a long time. It wasn’t that you were actively seeking a distraction, but it almost felt like everything that had been broken in your life was being patched up with something as simple as a few hours spent with him.

When he texted you, you felt that warm flutter in your chest. It was like a light breeze that made everything feel less heavy, less... suffocating. His jokes, corny as they were made you laugh like you hadn’t in years. And you knew it wasn’t just because of the jokes themselves. It was because of the way he looked at you when he said them, like you were the only one in the world who could possibly get how funny he was, even if his humor was a little goofy at times. And the way he smiled after making you laugh... it was like he was seeing you again, not just the person wrapped up in the struggles of life, but the person who had been buried under the weight of a marriage that had long lost its spark.

You tried not to think too much about it. Tried not to get caught up in the way he made you feel. Because you didn’t have feelings for him, right? That would be impossible. You were still married. You were still living in a home with Seungmin. You still had a son who needed stability. The idea of starting over, of letting go of everything you’d built even if it had been built on shaky ground felt too impossible to entertain.

But the more time you spent with Changbin, the more those lines blurred.

It was the way he noticed you in a way that no one else had. The way he’d listen to every word you said, paying attention to the smallest details, the things you thought no one else would care about. When you helped him with Yuna, making sure she was fed or entertained. It felt natural, like it was just something you were meant to do. And even more than that, Changbin would thank you in the most genuine way, making you feel like your efforts actually mattered. Every thank you, every smile he gave you made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t know you were capable of.

And when you realized he was taking time out of his own busy schedule to spend with you, even when it was just hanging out and talking about random things, it felt comforting. You found yourself looking forward to it. Waiting for his messages, his calls, and the next time you’d get to see him.

But here’s the thing. You didn’t have feelings for him, right?

You would try to convince yourself of that every time your heart skipped a beat when his name popped up on your phone. You would dismiss the way your stomach fluttered when he complimented you, or when he offered to drive you home from the grocery store just because he wanted to spend more time with you. You told yourself it was just friendship. That was all it was. You were still figuring things out with your marriage, still trying to keep everything together for Roan. Everything you had with Changbin was just a distraction, you thought. Nothing more.

But you couldn’t ignore how natural it felt when he was around. The way your conversations flowed effortlessly, the way you could talk to him about anything, even the things you didn’t feel comfortable sharing with anyone else. With him, you could be yourself in a way you hadn’t felt like you could be with anyone in a long time.

The simple truth was, it felt too good. It was too easy. You found yourself grinning every time you saw his name light up your screen. And yet, in the back of your mind, there was this nagging feeling, a voice reminding you that you still had a husband. A family to protect. A son who deserved a stable environment.

So, what was this? What was it that was pulling you towards him?

Maybe it was that, in all the chaos of the past months, he was the one thing that made sense. With Seungmin, everything was complicated, a mess of hurt feelings, betrayals, and unspoken words. With Changbin, it was simple. It was carefree. It was a reminder of who you used to be, the person who had felt loved and wanted, who had laughed without hesitation and smiled without second thoughts.

But you didn’t have feelings for him, right?

You told yourself that again. But this time, it didn’t feel as convincing. You had liked Changbin back then when you were in high school. But that was a long time ago. You were different now. You had a son, responsibilities. Your life was no longer about chasing feelings or fleeting moments of joy. Your life was about keeping things steady, for Roan’s sake, for Seungmin’s sake.

Yet, every time you saw Changbin, that line between friendship and something more seemed to blur just a little bit more. You found yourself wanting to stay in that moment, just a little longer. You didn’t want to leave when he dropped you off after dinner or when you’d walk out of a store and he’d offer to carry your bags for you. Those little gestures made you feel... special. Like maybe you hadn’t lost everything after all.

But you weren’t in love with him.

Right?

The sound of your phone buzzing in the dead of night made your heart leap, and for a brief second, you almost let it go to voicemail. It was late, and Seungmin never seemed to understand the boundaries of your new reality, calling you at odd hours of the night, pulling at strings you had carefully kept taut. You knew he’d probably just leave a message, something along the lines of “I’ll call in the morning.” But this time, something in you made you answer it. Maybe it was the guilt. Maybe it was the fact that despite everything, you still cared for him, and you didn’t want to cut him off entirely, even if that meant dealing with the same emotional tug-of-war that had been going on for months.

"Hello?" you said softly, your voice still rough from sleep.

The first thing he said, before even asking how you were, was, "I miss you."

Your throat tightened. You didn’t say anything, couldn’t bring yourself to. His voice had that familiar tone again, that soft vulnerability that used to make your heart ache in all the right ways, and yet now felt like a weight in your chest.

“I’m... I’m laying in bed,” Seungmin continued, his words dragging, like he was unsure of how to say what was on his mind. “The bed we used to share... I wish you’d come back. I miss you so much. And Roan, I miss him too.” His voice faltered, the emotional rawness unmistakable.

You could hear the rustling of sheets on his end, and then the quiet, barely-there sniffle that followed. It hit you harder than you thought it would. Despite all the hurt, despite what he did, you still felt for him. You wished you could hold onto the anger that had kept you steady, but in this moment, the hurt felt like it was leaking through the cracks.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a pause, as though he could sense something in your silence. You couldn’t lie to him. Not now, not after everything.

You didn’t answer immediately. Your mind was racing. Roan. Seungmin. Everything. You had to keep this together for Roan, but the weight of the past few months seemed to press down on your chest.

“I don’t know,” you finally answered softly, your voice distant. “I still don’t know how I feel about being around you.”

“I understand,” Seungmin said, his tone quieter now, almost apologetic. “I just... it’s been unbearable not having you here, not having you around. I miss coming home to you after work, seeing you and Roan. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

The words burned. You wished you could say it didn’t matter, that it was his own fault, that you had every right to shut him out and leave everything in the past. But the truth was, there was still a part of you, however small that ached for what had been lost. You couldn’t help it.

“Well,” you said, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping in, “I’m surprised you’re not keeping her there while I’m gone.”

There was a long pause on the other end. A tense, uncomfortable silence. You could practically hear him swallowing his pride.

“She’s not staying with me,” he finally said, his voice tight, like he was trying to hold back his emotions. “It was just a one-time thing. Please, can we just... let it go already?”

Let it go? How could you? How could you let it go when everything you thought was solid and permanent had been shattered in a matter of weeks? He had let you down. He had let both of you down. But despite everything, you could feel the temptation, the pull to forgive him. To believe that this could be fixed, that the person who had once loved you with so much intensity could still be there.

You let the silence linger. "It’s only been a few months," you said softly. "How am I supposed to let that go when you’ve been with her for who knows how long?"

“I understand,” Seungmin replied quietly. “But I’m telling you, it was a mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”

You didn’t say anything after that. It felt like the same old circular conversation you’d been having for months now. You both had been here before. Neither of you seemed to be getting anywhere.

Then, Seungmin brought up something that stopped you in your tracks. “I was thinking about coming over,” he said, his voice hopeful. “Maybe we can talk. For Roan’s birthday coming up. I don’t want to miss it.”

You immediately felt a knot in your stomach. The thought of him coming over again, especially with everything still so raw felt like the worst idea imaginable. You’d barely made it through the last few weeks without breaking. The idea of facing him in your parents’ house, knowing how much time you’d been spending with Changbin lately, was a mess waiting to happen. You didn’t want to deal with that. But at the same time, you knew he had every right to want to be there for Roan, especially if his son had been asking about him.

You sighed, long and drawn-out, before speaking. “I... I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to come over. Things are still... complicated.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “But it’s for Roan. I promise. I just want to see him. Please.”

You thought about it, your mind running through all the possible scenarios. Your heart wasn’t ready for the confrontation it would bring, but you also didn’t want Roan to feel caught in the middle of it. You sighed again, this time more reluctantly. “Okay. Fine. But it’s only for Roan. Nothing more.”

Seungmin’s voice brightened at that, and for a brief moment, you could almost feel his relief through the phone. “Thank you. I’ll be on the road first thing tomorrow.”

You didn’t respond, only nodded as if he could see you. Your thoughts were a whirlwind, but you managed to keep your voice steady as you said, “Okay. We’ll talk soon.”

You hung up, your finger lingering on the screen before finally setting the phone down. It felt like everything was spiraling again. A part of you wanted to stay angry. You wanted to keep your distance. But another part, the part that still loved him just wanted peace. And that made everything feel even more confusing.

But in the end, no matter what you told yourself, you still didn’t know what you wanted.

Seungmin’s arrival that morning had an almost surreal quality to it, as if the events of the past few weeks hadn’t happened at all. The door swung open with a soft creak, and before you could even react, Roan’s excited voice echoed through the hallway, “Dad!”

Your son came running, his small feet slapping against the hardwood floors, his eyes wide with disbelief and joy. He didn’t know Seungmin was coming, and when your father opened the door, Roan practically flew into Seungmin’s arms, as though no time had passed at all.

Seungmin caught him easily, pulling him in close, his face breaking into that familiar, soft smile that always seemed to melt away the stress of the day. Roan wrapped his little arms around Seungmin’s neck, pressing his face into his father’s shoulder. You could see the emotion in Seungmin’s eyes, how much he’d missed Roan. And despite the anger, the hurt, the chaos swirling in your own chest, you couldn’t deny it. Seungmin loved Roan. That was undeniable.

Your chest tightened as you watched the tender moment unfold. It hurt. It hurt in ways you couldn’t put into words. You had been through so much so much that you weren’t even sure if there was any way back to where you once were. But Roan was always at the heart of it, wasn’t he? He deserved this, to have his father in his life, to feel that love, even if everything between you and Seungmin had become so fractured.

Your mom greeted Seungmin with an excited smile, giving him a quick hug. Your dad followed suit, a warm handshake followed by a slap on the back, as if this was just another visit, another day when nothing had changed. As though everything was still fine.

Then, Seungmin turned to you.

For a moment, there was hesitation in his eyes. You could see him searching your face, trying to gauge your reaction. And then, without a word, he pulled you into a hug. You didn’t pull away. It wasn’t that you wanted him to hold you, but the guilt of pushing him away in front of your parents weighed on you. You didn’t want to make a scene not now, not in front of them.

So you held him back. Just for a second. It was stiff, forced, but you allowed the hug. He kissed your temple softly, his lips lingering for a moment longer than they should have, and you felt the old ache stir in your chest, the one that had never truly faded.

But that wasn’t enough to erase the anger and betrayal. Not by a long shot.

By the time the evening came, you were exhausted, mentally, emotionally. Roan was finally in bed, tucked in with his favorite stuffed animal, and your parents had gone out for a wine night with some of their old friends. The house felt quieter now, the calm before the storm.

Seungmin and you were left alone, with nothing but the thick, unsettled air hanging between you. You sat in the living room, the TV playing softly in the background, but you couldn’t focus on anything. Not the shows, not the quiet hum of the house. All you could focus on was him. Seungmin.

He reached for your hand, the gesture slow, almost tentative, as if he wasn’t sure if you would pull away. But you didn’t. You let him take your hand, and when he pulled it gently to his lap, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something that made your heart drop.

The wedding ring. The one you had left at home, the one you hadn’t worn since the night you packed your things and left.

“Seungmin, no,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

But he ignored your words and carefully slid it onto your finger. You stared at the ring, feeling the cold metal settle into place, and it was like your entire past came rushing back at once the promises, the dreams, the life you thought you’d built together.

You tried to pull your hand away, but he held it there, not roughly, but firmly. You didn’t want to wear it. You didn’t want to be reminded of everything you were still struggling to let go of. But his grip softened as he looked up at you, his expression raw.

“Please don’t take it off,” he said quietly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

You swallowed hard, the anger rising in your chest, but you fought to keep it at bay. “What does that even mean, Seungmin?” Your voice cracked slightly. “What does ‘making things right’ look like? Because right now, just looking at you makes me angry. Every time I look at you, I see her. I hear her name in my head, and it makes me sick.”

Seungmin’s eyes softened, his hand shifting to lift your chin, gently but firmly, so you had to meet his gaze. He didn’t let go of your hand, the warmth of his palm grounding you in a way that felt so intimate, so familiar.

“Look at me,” he said softly, almost a whisper. “Really look at me.”

You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to give him that. But you did. You looked into his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the man you used to love. The one who had stood by you when everything seemed impossible. The one who had held you when you cried, the one who promised you forever.

His thumb gently brushed away a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek, and he took a deep breath. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. I hurt Roan. But please, don’t shut me out completely. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.”

The words were like a balm to a wound that had never fully healed. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that he could fix everything, that the man in front of you wasn’t the same one who had betrayed you.

But then, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours softly. It was gentle at first, the kind of kiss that spoke more of longing than of passion. But it lingered. And it hurt. You hadn’t realized how badly you missed his touch until you felt it again. The warmth of him, the closeness you hadn’t had in so long.

Your heart pounded, conflicting emotions swirling inside you. You wanted to pull away, to stop the kiss, to remind him of the pain he’d caused, but something held you there. Something you couldn’t quite define.

When the kiss ended, he didn’t pull away right away. His forehead rested against yours, and his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Just please... don’t walk away from me completely.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. Everything in your body screamed that you couldn’t forgive him, that you couldn’t go back to the way things were. But another part of you, one that still ached for the life you once had with him, wanted so desperately to believe that you could make it work.

But you didn’t know if you could.

“I don’t know what to do, Seungmin,” you said quietly, your voice shaking. “I don’t know if we can fix this. I’m so tired of being hurt by you. I don’t know if I can forget.”

Seungmin didn’t pull away, didn’t argue. He simply held you, his hands gentle on your shoulders, as if he was waiting for you to make the decision for both of you. He didn’t press. He didn’t beg. He just stayed there, waiting for you to decide.

And in that moment, you realized that you were at a crossroads. Your heart was torn between the life you had built and the possibility of something new, something that you weren’t sure you were ready for. You didn’t know if you could ever truly forgive Seungmin for what he’d done. But you didn’t know if you could keep running from him, either.

You pulled away slightly, looking up at him one last time before saying, “I need time, Seungmin. I need more time.”

He nodded, his face softening with understanding. "I’ll wait. As long as you need."

And you didn’t know how long that would be. But for the first time in months, you felt like you had time. Time to figure things out. Time to make the decisions you needed to make.

What came next was uncertain. But for the first time in a while, you felt like you had the space to breathe.

The night passed quietly, and despite Seungmin sleeping so close to you, it was a strange kind of tension that filled the space between you two. It wasn’t the same as it once was, the comfort you used to find in his presence. You both respected the silence and the space that now existed, and yet, there was a subtle tension that reminded you of everything that had happened the betrayals, the hurt, and the unresolved feelings. Seungmin didn’t try to hold you or pull you closer. He simply slept close, not intruding, but not exactly distant either. It was almost like a truce, a fragile attempt to bridge the gap between the two of you without truly addressing the distance that had grown in your relationship.

It was almost too quiet. The kind of quiet that made everything louder. Your thoughts. The memories. The pain.

You didn't sleep soundly, tossing and turning for hours as the weight of your emotions lingered. Every time your mind would start to settle, you’d remember something new, something you hadn't processed yet whether it was a memory of Seungmin before everything fell apart or the unexpected closeness you felt with Changbin, the one who made you feel like you could breathe again.

But you couldn’t let yourself think too much about Changbin. Not now. Not with Seungmin here, trying to make his way back into your life.

When you woke up, Seungmin was already downstairs, most likely with your parents or spending time with Roan. You were grateful for the space, the chance to take a breath without feeling the weight of him looming over you. You stretched, trying to push back the thoughts that wanted to swarm, but it wasn’t easy. You needed to talk to someone. You needed to hear a familiar voice.

The buzz of your phone broke your concentration, and when you saw Changbin’s name flashing on the screen, your heart gave a little flutter. You hesitated for just a second before answering.

"Hello?" You tried to sound normal, though there was an unspoken layer of tension hanging in your words.

Changbin's voice came through the speaker, warm and comforting as always. "Hey, you up? You wanna do something today?" He sounded casual, like he was just checking in, but there was a slight edge of anticipation that made you pause.

For a brief moment, you felt a flutter of hope, a momentary feeling that you could escape everything that was happening in your life just by being with him. But then reality hit. Seungmin was here.

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of the situation. "Seungmin's actually here. He arrived yesterday morning," you said, trying to keep it light, though you could feel the disappointment creeping into your voice.

There was a long pause on the other end. Changbin’s usual upbeat tone faded, replaced by a soft hum. The sound of disappointment was subtle, but it was there. "Ah," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "I see."

You knew he wasn’t thrilled about the situation. Changbin had been there for you in ways Seungmin hadn’t been in months. But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that telling Changbin about Seungmin’s sudden reappearance would change things between you two. You didn’t want to push him away.

You quickly tried to change the subject, to salvage what was left of the conversation. "You know, Yuna mentioned wanting to go dress shopping with me recently. I promised her I’d go. And maybe you could hang out with Roan, do some boy stuff together while Yuna and I do that. I’m sure he’d love that."

But before you could say anything more, Changbin cut you off, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "Actually, I just remembered I have something come up. I... I gotta go." His tone had shifted, and you could tell he was trying to keep his words neutral, but there was a tightness there that wasn’t normal for him.

You blinked, feeling a pang of confusion and hurt in your chest. "Oh," was all you could say. You had been expecting something different, perhaps a little more understanding or at least some reassurance that it was okay. But that wasn’t what you got.

"Yeah, sorry. I gotta go," he said, and before you could respond, the line went quiet. The call ended abruptly, leaving you holding your phone in the middle of your room, feeling strangely abandoned.

You stared at the screen for a moment, your heart sinking. That was... different. Changbin had never ended a conversation like that before. He’d always been patient, always made sure you had the last word, always seemed so willing to spend time with you no matter what was going on. But today was different.

You sat down on the edge of your bed, replaying the conversation in your head. Was it something you’d said? Something you hadn’t said? The disappointment in his voice had been unmistakable, and the suddenness of his departure from the conversation stung more than you cared to admit.

Maybe he was just trying to give you space, he knew Seungmin was around, and maybe he didn’t want to make things more complicated. But the sudden shift in tone made you wonder if there was more to it, something you weren’t seeing.

You didn’t know what to make of it. You had spent the last few weeks leaning on Changbin, allowing yourself to laugh, to forget for a moment about all the hurt surrounding you. He had become this unexpected source of warmth, a reminder that not everything in your life was broken. But now, his abrupt departure from the conversation left you questioning where you stood with him, too.

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind. You couldn’t focus on this now. You had too many other things going on. Too many things to figure out.

But as you got up and walked toward the door, heading down to join Seungmin and your parents, the weight of the conversation lingered in the back of your mind. Something had shifted with Changbin, and you weren’t sure if it was something you could fix.

Changbin had been in denial for weeks, pushing down his feelings as best as he could. At first, it had been easier, he told himself that what he was feeling toward you was just sympathy, maybe a lingering sense of care for someone he had always been close to. After all, you and Seungmin were married, and despite everything that had gone wrong between you two, he couldn’t have possibly seen you as anything more than a friend. His heart had already been through too much, and he didn’t think he was ready for anything more.

But then, the last time he saw you, something shifted. He had been watching you laugh, the sound so familiar and comforting, yet different in a way. It wasn’t like before, there was more lightness, more joy in your voice than he had heard in years. The way you had made him laugh, teasing him like you used to back in school, brought back a flood of memories. You were the same person he had once been hopelessly in love with, but time had changed both of you.

That was when he realized it. He had feelings for you again. And not just a little crush either, but something deeper. Something that terrified him.

It had been the first time in years that he allowed himself to feel something for someone other than Sua. His wife, Sua, who had passed away two years ago, and after her death, Changbin had completely shut himself off from the possibility of loving anyone else. He had convinced himself that he would never be able to love anyone like he loved her. That maybe the kind of love he shared with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. He had grieved deeply, and his heart had healed in its own time, but the scars were still there. He wasn’t sure if he could open up to someone new without betraying the love he had for Sua.

But then there was you, someone he had known intimately in a past life, someone who had been with him through his teenage years. He had seen you go through so much Seungmin’s betrayal, your struggles, the hurt that still haunted you. He wanted to be there for you in a way he hadn’t been before, but somewhere along the way, the friendship turned into something more.

When you had called him earlier that morning and mentioned Seungmin, it hit him harder than he expected. A tight knot twisted in his stomach. He tried to keep his voice neutral, but inside, something dark stirred a mix of frustration, jealousy, and fear. The thought of you still being so close to Seungmin, still entangled in your past, ignited a deep sense of possessiveness. He had told himself it wasn’t his place to feel this way, but hearing Seungmin’s name, Seungmin, the man who had hurt you, the man who had been the reason for so much of your pain felt like a slap to his chest.

He had been so careful, keeping his feelings to himself, pushing the idea of a future with you aside, but hearing that Seungmin was there, staying with you… it felt like a betrayal, even though he knew it wasn’t. You and Seungmin shared history, a history that Changbin wasn’t a part of, no matter how much he wanted to be. It made him feel small, like an outsider who didn’t belong in the picture anymore.

The moment you mentioned Seungmin’s arrival, Changbin’s chest tightened. He couldn’t keep the disappointment from leaking into his voice. “Ah, I see,” he said, his words soft, almost like he was trying to mask the hurt he was feeling. He had told himself over and over that he wasn’t entitled to your time, that you had every right to make your own decisions, but hearing you talk about Seungmin made him feel like he was losing you, even if you weren’t technically his. It wasn’t just that he was jealous, it was the painful reminder that Seungmin had been your past, and no matter what Changbin felt, he would always be a part of your story.

When you tried to salvage the conversation, suggesting you could still hang out later, Changbin’s mind raced. But the thought of spending the day with you while Seungmin was around felt wrong. It wasn’t just the jealousy, it was the fear that maybe he was too late. Maybe you had already moved on, maybe you still needed Seungmin. And what was he supposed to do with that? He couldn’t compete him, no matter how much he wanted to.

And then, when you mentioned your plans with Yuna, the disappointment hit again. Changbin felt this sharp pang in his chest, this deep sense of frustration with himself. He had been so certain that today could be the day when things felt different, when he could spend time with you, laugh with you, maybe even though he hated to admit it, confess to you how he felt. But now, everything felt out of reach. He couldn’t get a clear moment with you without Seungmin standing in the background, hovering over everything. It was suffocating.

“Actually, I just remembered I have something come up,” he said quickly, almost like he was trying to justify his decision to pull away. He didn’t want to hear himself say it, but the words came out anyway. “I gotta go.”

He hung up before you could say anything else. He didn’t want to hear your voice in that moment, didn’t want to hear you try to make it better. The truth was, he was afraid. Afraid that his feelings for you would never be returned, and that all he was doing was hurting both of you by being around. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with his emotions, and he didn’t know how to even start a conversation about it without ruining everything.

He paced around his apartment, trying to calm himself down. The jealousy, the confusion, it all spiraled. He didn’t want to lose you. He didn’t want to be the guy who stood by and watched while someone else had your heart, but at the same time, he couldn’t push you too hard. You needed space. You were still navigating the wreckage of your marriage, and he wasn’t going to be the one to force you into something you weren’t ready for.

But the thing about Changbin was that he’d always been one to act on impulse, to dive headfirst into the things he cared about. And despite all his fears, he knew one thing for sure, he couldn’t just walk away from you now. The feelings he had were real, and they weren’t going away.

That night, as he sat in his apartment, he stared at his phone for a long time, wondering if he should call you back, wondering if there was any chance for the two of you. He had never been this uncertain before, his heart and his mind at war with each other. What would he do next? Would he try again to be a part of your life, even if Seungmin was there?

He didn’t know, but he knew one thing, he wasn’t ready to let go of you. Not yet.

Seungmin was never the type to make grand gestures. He wasn’t the kind of man to chase after someone or beg for forgiveness with tearful eyes and flowery words. He had always been pragmatic, calm, and a little reserved when it came to matters of the heart. But this, this was different. The reality of the situation, the hurt he had caused you, had cracked something inside him that he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just about him wanting to fix things for himself anymore. He wanted to fix things for you, for your family, for Roan.

When he arrived back at your parents’ house that morning, a part of him still felt like he was walking on eggshells. His chest had tightened as soon as he saw you, the discomfort in your eyes unmistakable, but what hit him the hardest was the cold distance between the two of you. That had been a wall he had built himself, and now that it was there, he wasn’t sure how to break it down.

But he was trying.

He had to try.

Over the past few weeks, after you left and he stayed in your once shared home, Seungmin had spent sleepless nights replaying everything in his head. The mistakes. The lies. The things he had told himself to justify his actions. The distance between you two, even after everything he did, had never felt so suffocating. It wasn’t just about being away from you, it was about the family he had broken. The life he had destroyed by being selfish.

The realization came when he woke up one morning, staring at the empty space next to him in bed, the weight of his choices bearing down on him. He had been too focused on his own needs and desires, too caught up in what he wanted in the moment, to see the bigger picture. He hadn’t seen how much it hurt you, how much it had affected Roan.

For weeks, Seungmin had convinced himself that you just needed time. That, eventually, you would come around, that the time apart would heal things. But that realization was a punch to the gut. He had to do something, something more than just waiting around and hoping you’d forgive him. He had to show you that he was willing to change, that he was ready to be the man you needed, not just the one he thought you needed.

That’s when he made the decision to come back.

When he knocked on your parents' door and saw Roan running toward him with his arms wide open, his heart cracked a little bit. Roan’s warm embrace, his innocent excitement to see his dad, felt like a slap in the face to Seungmin. He had been so lost in his own guilt, his own shame, that he had almost forgotten about what truly mattered the love his son had for him, the unspoken bond they shared.

Seungmin needed to do right by that.

He smiled as he held Roan tight, but the smile quickly faded as he looked at you. There you were, standing in the background, watching him closely. You looked… different. Stronger, perhaps. But there was still a tenderness in your eyes, an old familiarity that made his heart ache.

He greeted your parents, tried to appear casual, as though he hadn’t just barged back into your life after everything that happened. Your mom greeted him warmly, but there was a trace of hesitation in her eyes. Your dad shook his hand, but there was no attempt to hide the discomfort in his stance. They both said all the right things, but the underlying tension in the air was palpable.

Later that evening, when Roan had gone to bed and your parents had left to visit some friends, Seungmin took his chance. He wasn’t going to let this moment slip by.

He sat down next to you, the air thick with the words left unspoken between the two of you. He reached for your hand, hesitating for a moment before gently brushing your fingers with his.

"I’ve made so many mistakes," he said, his voice quieter than usual, but full of sincerity. "I know I’ve hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that. I just… I need you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this right. I can’t lose you, and I can’t lose Roan."

You didn’t pull away when he touched your hand, but you didn’t move closer either. You sat there, silent, processing his words. The wedding ring he had brought with him glinted in the light, and he slid it onto your finger gently, as though asking permission without asking for it.

You stared at it, not sure what to do. The weight of it, the weight of everything between you two, felt so heavy. Seungmin’s eyes searched yours, almost pleading, and for a moment, you almost wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that he could be the man he promised to be. That he could make things right for Roan. For your family.

But there was still that sharp, raw pain at the center of it all. You still couldn’t erase the image of him with her, the betrayal, the lies. The way he had moved on so easily, as though nothing had ever been wrong between you two.

And still, you didn’t push him away. Maybe because you weren’t sure if you were ready to either accept or deny what he was offering. You didn’t know what the next step would be, but in that moment, you felt an old piece of your heart, the part that had loved Seungmin fiercely, that had trusted him with everything you had, start to stir again.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke the truth that had been buried for so long. “I don’t know how to be with you, Seungmin. I don’t know if we can go back to what we had before.”

His hand remained in yours, warm and gentle. “I’m not asking for everything to go back to the way it was,” he said, his thumb running along your knuckles. “I just want a chance. A real chance to show you that I can be the man you need me to be. The man I should have been all along.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, the same vulnerability that he had hidden for so long. Maybe you could believe him. Maybe, in time, he would prove that he meant every word.

But then, just as quickly as the hope flickered in your chest, doubt filled its place again. Could you let go of everything, everything he had put you through and trust him again?

And just like that, with everything weighing heavily on both of you, Seungmin leaned in. His lips brushed against your forehead first, soft and tender, before he gently kissed your lips.

It wasn’t a passionate kiss, nor was it full of desire. It was a kiss filled with longing and regret, one that carried with it all the unspoken promises that had been left unsaid for too long.

And in that moment, you realized that things weren’t going to be easy. There would be days where you’d feel confused, where you’d question what the right thing to do was. But for now, you allowed yourself to believe that, maybe, just maybe Seungmin was doing everything he could to make things right.

But would it be enough?

Changbin had been a storm of conflicting emotions ever since he heard that Seungmin was back in the picture. At first, he had tried to brush it off, to keep his distance from you so he wouldn’t get too attached, especially when things between you and Seungmin were still so unresolved. But there was something in the way your voice had faltered when you talked about him, something that made Changbin wonder if you were letting yourself slip back into a relationship that had caused you so much pain. He hated the idea of it. He hated how your pain seemed to disappear whenever Seungmin was around, even though deep down, Changbin knew it wasn’t that simple.

Still, he’d kept his distance. He convinced himself it was for the best, he couldn’t risk being the guy who made things messier for you, who stood in the way of your family’s attempts to piece itself back together. But seeing you so quietly accepting of Seungmin’s return, even when you were still hurting, made something inside him twist uncomfortably.

Why should you let him back in so easily? Changbin thought. After everything he did, after all the lies, after hurting you so badly, why let him waltz back into your life like it was nothing?

It wasn’t just about Seungmin’s return, it was about the way he felt for you. The way he couldn’t stop thinking about you when you laughed, when you smiled, when you’d pick up little things for Yuna and Roan, your soft touch, the quiet moments that seemed to stitch the fractured pieces of his heart back together. It was about the tenderness he had developed for you over the past few weeks, the moments when you’d sit together, letting go of the world around you. And it was all crumbling now, slipping through his fingers, because of that damn wedding ring.

Changbin didn’t know why it stung so much, but when he saw it sitting on your finger as you adjusted your hair that morning, it felt like his chest was being crushed in a vice.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes focused on the ring, the ring he hadn’t seen on your finger yet not even when he reconnected with you. The one that symbolized all the promises you had made to Seungmin, the life you had shared, the family you had created together. It was still there. And it hurt. It hurt to know that no matter how close he got to you, no matter how much time he spent trying to help you heal from the pain Seungmin had caused, he wasn’t the one who held that promise.

For a brief moment, Changbin had considered walking away pretending he didn’t care, pretending he wasn’t feeling the suffocating weight of his own jealousy. But the truth was, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t lie to himself. He couldn’t act like the wound in his chest wasn’t there.

You’d been through so much already, and here he was, having a hard time even standing near you when the man who had hurt you so badly was back, effortlessly sliding back into your life. That wedding ring felt like an anchor, dragging him down into a pit of confusion and self-doubt.

When you approached him, he forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He turned slightly, making sure to keep his distance, pretending that he wasn’t affected.

“Hey,” you said, a little hesitantly. “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you since… well, since that phone call.”

Changbin gave a tight-lipped smile, his mind racing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just been busy, y’know.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem casual. He tried to avoid looking at your hand, but his gaze betrayed him. There it was again, the wedding ring.

He felt his throat tighten.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you continued, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. “Are you up for doing something soon? You know. I promised Yuna I’d take her shopping for dresses. Roan’s been telling me that she’s been talking about it nonstop.”

Changbin nodded automatically. He had no intention of ignoring you. It wasn’t that. He just needed to sort through this mess in his mind first. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he said, though his voice felt distant, not quite as bright as it usually did.

You fixed your hair absentmindedly, and that’s when he saw it again, the ring. The diamond glinting faintly in the morning sun, making it hard for him to focus on anything else. That damn ring.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at it, fighting the overwhelming urge to rip it off your finger, to scream at you for not protecting yourself, for not protecting your heart. He had no right to be angry. He knew that. But his chest was tight with something he couldn’t name, something that felt dangerously close to resentment.

You looked up at him and noticed the way his expression had shifted, a flash of something unreadable in his eyes.

“Changbin?” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He clenched his jaw and nodded, refusing to let his emotions spill out. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

Your smile faltered slightly, and you looked at him with concern. He could see it in your eyes, the curiosity, the worry. You weren’t buying it. But he didn’t know how to explain it to you, not without sounding petty and selfish. Not without admitting how much it hurt to see you wearing that ring.

So he did what he always did when things got too complicated, he turned away. He kept his distance.

“I’ve gotta get going,” he said quickly. “But, uh… yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”

Without waiting for a response, Changbin quickly turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction. He had to get away from you. He had to process this. Because if he didn’t, he might do something he’d regret. Something that would only make everything worse.

He didn’t want to lose you again, not to Seungmin, not to anyone. But he wasn’t sure if he could keep pretending that he was okay with standing in the shadow of a wedding ring that wasn’t his.

Seungmin’s return to your life had been, at best, confusing. But if you were being honest with yourself, you couldn't help but notice the effort he was putting in, even if it didn’t erase the hurt, the betrayal, or the cracks that ran deep. He was trying, and for the first time in a while, it wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t about his comfort or his needs, it was about you, about us, or at least, the remnants of what that was supposed to be.

It wasn’t like it was perfect, far from it. But Seungmin seemed to be realizing, bit by bit, that just saying he was sorry wasn’t going to be enough. He couldn’t just expect you to forgive him, and, for the first time, he was showing that he understood that. That realization, that effort, was enough to keep you tethered to the idea of trying, of giving him a second chance, or even just the space to prove that he was different now.

At first, it felt like he was just trying to go through the motions, just doing what he thought he needed to do to win you back. He brought you coffee in the morning, remembering your exact order, just like he used to. He'd offer little, thoughtful gestures like picking up your favorite snacks from the grocery store or asking if you needed help with anything when he knew you had a busy day ahead. It was almost like he was trying to show you that he could still be the person you had once relied on.

But there were other moments, more subtle ones, where you saw a shift. He’d try to engage in conversations with Roan, or ask if you needed help with something around the house, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d ask how you were feeling, not in a casual way, but with real concern like he genuinely cared. The way he’d look at you sometimes, with a mixture of apology and longing, made your heart twist.

You hadn’t seen that look in a long time.

It was in the little things too. Like how he started making sure you were included when he was talking about future plans, something he used to exclude you from. It was like he was starting to remember what it was like when you were a team, when everything wasn’t so fractured and distant. When he asked if you wanted to go out for lunch, he didn’t just suggest places that were convenient for him, he picked ones you’d always liked, places that held memories from when things were simpler between you two. He even asked if you wanted to go for a walk in the park, something you used to do when you first started dating.

And then, there were moments when he would genuinely listen, and not just for the sake of listening, but because he wanted to know how you felt, wanted to know if things were okay between the two of you. His eyes would soften when you spoke, like he was processing everything you said, really hearing it. He wasn’t rushing to make things better, or to jump in with excuses, he was just… present. It wasn’t like the Seungmin you had known, the one who’d always tried to fix things quickly with humor or with grand gestures. This version of him wasn’t rushing anything; he was just trying to make sure you knew that you were seen and that you were heard.

You had to admit, even though it made you uncomfortable at times, it made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long while. It made you feel important again, like you were his priority. That was a feeling that used to come so naturally between you two, but over time, had eroded. The years of work, the growing distance between you two as his distractions took over, it was hard not to feel like an afterthought. But now, in the quieter moments, you could see that he was trying to change that.

There were also moments when he was more physically present. He didn’t just hover; he’d do small things, like picking up Roan from school, offering to help out around the house, or just making sure you didn’t feel alone. When the weather got cold, he’d wrap an extra scarf around your neck before you could even think to grab one, like the old Seungmin who had always worried about you getting sick. When Roan’s homework was difficult, he’d patiently sit beside him and explain it, not even looking at his phone as he usually did.

But the most telling sign was how he interacted with you. In the rare moments when it was just the two of you, when the house was quiet and Roan had gone to bed, Seungmin would sit across from you, his gaze lingering on you a little too long, almost like he was trying to read you. His smile was softer, less rushed, as if he was savoring the fact that you were still there. And for the first time in a while, you could see how much he wanted to make it right. He didn’t just want you back for himself, he wanted you back because he realized what you meant to him, what he’d been too blind to appreciate until now.

You didn’t know how you felt about him, not fully. There were still too many scars. Too many pieces of your heart that were still cracked, still raw. But, somehow, his small efforts, his attempts to rebuild trust were making it difficult for you to completely shut him out. It wasn’t the same. It was never going to be the same. But for the first time, you saw a glimmer of hope, a chance that he might truly be trying to be the man he had failed to be before.

Still, the confusion lingered. How could you forgive him for everything? How could you let go of the pain, the betrayal, when the memories of everything he’d put you through were still so fresh in your mind?

But as Seungmin held Roan close, as he cared for you in the way he knew how, as he showed you, not just told you that he was trying, the doubt started to fade a little. Maybe it was a beginning. Maybe, with time, this could work. Or maybe you were just allowing yourself to hope for something that couldn’t be fixed. It was too soon to know.

But you couldn’t deny that, for the first time in months, you were allowing yourself to consider the possibility of forgiveness. Not for him, necessarily, but for you. Because at the end of the day, it wasn’t just about whether Seungmin deserved it. It was about whether you deserved to heal.

When you heard the buzz of your phone, your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t like you had been expecting to hear from him. After all, the last time you spoke, things had been… well, different. Awkward. You weren’t sure where things stood anymore. And yet, when you saw Changbin’s name on the screen, your thumb moved before your brain could process what was happening. You picked up the phone, trying to mask your nervousness with an air of indifference. It wasn’t easy, but you tried. You didn’t want him to know how much his voice affected you, how it had always affected you.

"Hey," you answered, trying to keep your tone casual, even though you were anything but.

He greeted you warmly, his voice sounding as comforting as it always did, but there was an undercurrent of something you couldn’t place. “How have you been?” he asked, his words soft but genuine.

You paused, thinking about your answer. You could lie and say you were fine, but was that really fair to either of you? Instead, you settled for, “I’m okay.” It wasn’t the truth, not entirely, but it was the answer that didn’t invite too many questions.

“How’s Roan?” Changbin asked next, his voice filled with the same warmth. You could hear the concern in it, and it made your chest tighten a little.

“He’s good, keeping busy with school and his friends.” You didn’t elaborate on the way Roan had been dealing with things, the times he’d asked about his dad or when he talked about how much he missed things being ‘normal.’ You didn’t want to bring any of that up now, not when the conversation was so casual.

“That's good," Changbin said. You could feel a slight pause, like he was taking a deep breath before continuing. “Yuna misses you, you know. She says she only gets to see you at pick-up nowadays. She’s been asking if you and Roan could hang out more, maybe have another playdate. She misses hanging out with you.”

The mention of Yuna made a lump form in your throat. You did miss her, miss the simplicity of the moments you’d shared, before everything had become so complicated. Before life had gotten in the way of your friendship.

You smiled, genuinely, as you thought of the little girl who’d stolen your heart in the most unexpected way. “I miss her too,” you said, and you meant it. “And I miss you, Changbin. It’s been a while.”

You heard a soft sigh from the other end of the phone, and it sounded so much like a mixture of relief and longing that it made your stomach flutter in a way you weren’t prepared for. He didn’t respond right away, but you could tell something was weighing on his mind. He seemed hesitant to speak, and that only made you more curious.

“I wasn’t gonna call,” Changbin said suddenly, his voice a little quieter, almost like he was trying to hide something. “But Yuna’s been talking about you a lot, and I guess I miss seeing you guys too. It just... it’s been a while, and I know things have been... complicated, with everything.” There was that weight again, that familiar heaviness in his tone, like he was trying to tread lightly but couldn't hide the depth of his feelings.

The words “complicated with everything” hit you harder than you expected. That phrase alone summed up everything you’d been going through. It felt like a lifetime ago when everything had been simple between you, Changbin, and your little world. And now? Now it was all a tangled mess of emotions, regrets, and… choices.

“I know, I know…” you started, but you didn’t really know what to say after that. You wanted to explain the mess that had become your life since Seungmin came back, but what good would it do? Changbin didn’t need the details.

But he wasn’t letting the silence settle between you two. His voice came back, a little more hesitant this time, like he was trying to figure out how to phrase what was on his mind.

“Well, I don’t know if you’re busy with Seungmin or what,” Changbin said before trailing off. The mention of Seungmin hit you harder than it should have, and you could hear it in his voice, the quiet edge of jealousy that he hadn’t quite been able to suppress. You knew what he meant, what he was trying to ask without saying it outright. Were you back with Seungmin?

You frowned, your mind suddenly racing. You didn’t understand why he would even bring Seungmin up now, after everything. You had mentioned to Changbin that you and Seungmin were working through things, that you were trying to find some kind of stability for Roan, but it felt like that wasn’t what Changbin needed to hear. It was like he was looking for something different something more, something you weren’t sure you could give him.

Before you could say anything, Changbin continued, his voice awkward and strained, “I didn’t mean to bring up Seungmin like that... It just slipped out. What I meant was, if you’re not too busy, if you have time, maybe you, Roan, and Yuna could hang out with me sometime soon. I—uh, I miss spending time with you, with all of you.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. The words "I miss spending time with you" felt like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t realized just how much you’d missed him, how much he had come to mean to you, until that very moment.

But still, the whole situation felt too complicated. He was asking you to hang out like it was the simplest thing in the world, but for you, it wasn’t simple. Not when you were trying to sort out your life, your feelings, and your priorities. You couldn’t just pretend everything was fine. It wasn’t.

“I’m not sure when, Changbin,” you said slowly, carefully, “but I promise I’ll try to find time. I think Yuna deserves that.”

He didn’t push you. There was a quiet pause before he let out a breath, something between frustration and relief. “Yeah, of course,” he said softly. “I get it. Just... just let me know when you’re free.”

You wanted to tell him you were sorry for not making things easier, for making everything more difficult than it needed to be, but you didn’t. There was no room for apologies, not yet. You weren’t sure if it would make anything better.

The conversation slowly came to an end, neither of you saying what was really on your mind. You hung up, staring at the phone in your hand, thoughts swirling. There was so much you wanted to say to Changbin, so much you needed to figure out before you could even think about doing anything with him anything more than friendship, at least.

But right now, all you could do was try to make sense of the messy feelings, the confusion, and the painful truth: you were still so drawn to Changbin. Even if you didn’t know exactly what that meant for your future, you couldn’t deny the pull. It was always there, lingering just beneath the surface.

And as you sat there, still holding your phone, your mind wandered back to the time when things had been simpler. To when you and Changbin had been on the same page, before everything had gotten so complicated. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you knew one thing for sure: this, whatever it was, was far from over.

Changbin felt a momentary calm settle over him after hanging up the phone with you. Hearing your voice again, even if it was through the filter of awkwardness and unresolved tension, gave him a small measure of peace. You hadn’t shut him out, and that was enough for now. It meant he hadn’t imagined it, those weeks you spent leaning on him, laughing with him, feeling like something was blooming between you. He told himself not to hope, but still… a part of him did.

He was lost in those very thoughts, his mind spinning around the images of you and Seungmin, the uncertainty of your feelings, the way you still wore your wedding ring until a familiar, bright voice jolted him back to the present.

“Daddy!”

Yuna’s sweet shriek of joy rang across the school courtyard as she ran toward him at full speed, her little backpack bouncing with each step. He immediately bent down, arms open, catching her as she leapt into him without hesitation. He lifted her with ease, settling her comfortably in his arms, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“Guess who I talked to today?” he said, voice teasing and light as he tried to push away the heaviness that had returned to sit in his chest.

Yuna pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes wide with excitement. “Y/N?” she guessed with a hopeful grin.

He smiled and nodded. “Bingo.”

Yuna let out a high-pitched squeal and kicked her legs in the air with excitement. “I knew it! I told Roan you would talk to her. I told him,” she said with pride, like she had willed the conversation into existence. “Does this mean we can go shopping now? She promised.”

He chuckled softly and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I think we’ll make it happen soon.”

Her face lit up again, and she leaned her head back on his shoulder as he began walking toward the car, his grip on her secure and comforting.

As they made their way through the parking lot, Yuna started chattering about her day, what snack her teacher gave them, how she and Roan played tag at recess, and how Roan had reminded her to not forget about his birthday party this weekend.

Changbin blinked.

The party.

Of course. Roan’s birthday. This weekend.

Yuna’s voice became background noise then, not because he didn’t want to hear her, but because all he could focus on was the sudden realization that he would have to see you again. Not just for a brief moment at pick-up or drop-off. Not a quiet phone call. But see you.

Be around you.

Be around you… and Seungmin.

His chest tightened with that familiar bitter ache, jealousy rising in his throat like bile. It wasn’t fair not to Roan, not to Yuna, not to you, but he couldn’t help it. The idea of standing there, in your parents' home, watching you and Seungmin smile and act like a family again, felt unbearable.

He would have to watch Roan call him “Dad.” He would have to hear your parents praise him. Watch Seungmin touch your back gently or say something to make you smile, and pretend it didn’t make him sick.

Because Changbin wasn’t just jealous of Seungmin having you. He was angry. Angry that he had broken you in such a cruel way cheated, betrayed, and somehow still got to come back into your life like a ghost demanding space.

And yet… you’d let him back in. Even if you hadn’t fully forgiven him, you’d opened the door.

That was the part that crushed Changbin the most.

He shifted Yuna a little higher in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead to ground himself. Her little hand wrapped around his thumb.

“You okay, Daddy?” she asked softly, peering up at him with curiosity.

He blinked down at her and nodded, pasting a smile on his face. “Yeah, baby. Just thinking.”

“Are we still going to Roan’s party?” she asked, and he nodded again. He couldn’t say no, not when her eyes looked so hopeful. Not when she was so happy at the thought of seeing you again.

“Of course,” he said, his voice low and steady despite the storm inside. “We wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

But as they reached the car and he buckled her in, his mind wandered again to the party, to you, to the way your smile lingered in his mind even when he tried to push it away.

He was happy to see you again.

He dreaded it too.

Because loving someone who’s trying to fall back in love with someone else? That kind of pain was the slow kind. Quiet. Hidden. And it burned like nothing else.

Still, Changbin would go. He’d smile, for Yuna. For Roan. Even for you.

And he’d pretend the ring on your finger didn’t feel like the door shutting in his face.

masterlist.

(a/n: who else is #TeamSeungmin 🖐️)

❌proofread

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corrodedheartsclub · 23 hours ago

Text

I’m Dumb She’s a Lesbian

Steddie. Modern au. Getting together. Platonic Stobin. 1685 words.

Steve’s used to people mistaking him and Robin as a couple. Unfortunately, he’s not used to Eddie’s form of problem solving.

After trying to explain to Eddie, without success, that him and Robin are purely platonic, he mistakenly admits that he did have a crush on her briefly, but once he knew it was never going to happen, they’ve become best friend. Platonic soulmates even.

“It’s honestly so for the best, Eddie. We weren’t meant to be a couple. We’re like cosmically linked on a whole other level.” Ok, Steve might be a little high, but he really believe him and Robin are meant to be in the most platonic way possible. He’s laying on Eddie’s bed, the joint their sharing nearly gone, and he can’t help the goofy smile that splits across his face. “Eddie, you know… I actually-”

“You guys are perfect together though! You’re always together, laughing and leaning on each other. How could there be no chance?” Eddie laments.

Steve shakes his head and groans, turning his face into the sheet. Eddie was hopeless.

“You’ve just gotta find the right timing.” Eddie doesn’t understand a world where anyone would shoot down this newly evolved Harrington. He’s perfect, and if Eddie can’t have him, he’ll make it his personal mission to get Steve and Robin together.

Steve’s watching him, wondering what the heck is going on in that head of his. Eddie was a mystery to him.

Kicking off his plan, Eddie starts by asking them to go to the movies, only to bail at the last minute. “I completely forgot I promised Wayne I’d help him work on the truck. I’m the worst, but no you guys should still go! Enjoy the movie!” He urges them on.

They sit through a cheesy romcom, and by five minutes in, they’re both questioning Eddie’s choice in movies. Never mind that Steve did end up really like it.

“That was weird, right?” Robin questions as they leave the theater.

“Which part?” Steve was finishing the last of his candy by turning over the box. He looks over at her, a mouthful of sour gummy worms.

Robin laughs, “You look like a creature.”

Steve crosses his eyes and laughs.

She’s shaking her head. “Eddie. He’s being weird. Did you notice anything last night when you guys were hanging out?”

“Mostly that he’s gorgeous and still completely oblivious every time I try to tell him how I feel,” Steve grumbles. “Plus, he’s so convinced we should be dating.”

“We? Like, you and I?” Robin mock gags, but then she jumps and smacks Steve’s arm. “That’s it!”

“Ow what the fuck, Buckley? What’s it?”

“He’s trying to parent trap us!”

Steve looks skeptical, but he starts connecting the dots in his head. He gaps. “Oh fuck.”

“Ok, we’ve just gotta sit him down and tell him we’re not together.”

“You could just tell him you’re gay and have a girlfriend. That would probably kill this idea that we belong together. I mean, he’s gay, so you shouldn’t have to worry about him?” Steve suggests.

“I’m just not ready to scream it from the rooftops. Plus, Vickie’s in the closet too, and I don’t want our time together being put under a microscope and risk outing her before she’s ready. I know I can trust Eddie to be supportive, but he’s so loud and proud and though I love that about him, I worry he’d let it slip on accident.”

Steve understands. Eddie is bold and outgoing, and it’s all wonderful. It’s just not what Robin needs right now. He agrees they just need to sit him down and set the record straight.

Steve leans against the counter at Family Video. The day’s been painfully slow so far, and he finds himself slow-blinking at the door, dozing off against his better judgment.

The door chimes and shocks him awake. He’s greeted by Dustin dumping a pile of returns in front of him. “Good morning,” he teases.

He rolls his eyes and groans at him. “You watch too many movies.” He yawns through Dustin’s offended scoff.

“Did you just go to the movies last night? Hypocrite!” Dustin defends.

Steve shoots him a look. “How do you know that? Stalking me, kid?”

“I was picking up character sheets from Eddie. He had some extras and I’m prepping for our next campaign. He said you and Robin were out watching a romcom. Are you guys finally dating?”

Steve lets out a small chuckle. “Ah, the man of the hour. No, we’re not dating, and we’ll never be dating. Eddie’s just trying to make something happen. Nosy little shits, the lot of you.”

Dustin looks skeptical. “Why would Eddie want you and Robin together? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re the one that just asked if we’re finally dating, and now you’re flipping the script. Who’s the hypocrite now?” Steve is scanning in the movies and shaking his head.

“I just mean that Eddie wouldn’t want you guys together because he’s totally into you,” Dustin says it like an obvious fact. “He’s always so whiny about it.”

Steve freezes. “What?”

The kid’s eyes widen as he realizes his overstep. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Steve’s already reaching for the phone. He punches in Robin’s number and points at Dustin while it rings. “You shouldn’t have. We’re going to talk later about not blabbing other people’s secrets. For now- scram.”

Dustin has the hindsight to look remorseful.

Robin answers with a theatric sigh. “Are you so hopeless without me that you must call on my day off?”

“Change of plans. I’m going to catch Eddie in his own trap, and you’re going to help.”

It’s all going according to plan. Steve and Robin find that it’s pretty easy to give Eddie the slip on his attempts.

Eddie tries to get Robin and Steve on a romantic date? Oh no, Robin’s got a family emergency. Eddie, you should stay so Steve isn’t all alone.

Lined up for Robin and Steve have to ride the ferris wheel together? Whoops, Robin remembers she’s afraid of heights at the front of the line, quick Eddie switch with her so Steve didn’t wait in this line for nothing.

Eddie sent flowers to Robin at family video with a card that says from Steve. Shame that the order got mixed up, and they went to Steve instead. Oh, but look how Steve blushes at the delivery.

The duo is feeling pretty good about their plan, but Eddie is losing his mind. Instead of fixing his crush, he’s fallen harder than ever. Every time he thinks he’s set the perfect trap, it twists around, and he finds himself spending more time with Steve. He’s not complaining necessarily. Any time alone with Steve makes his heart pound in his chest, but if he can’t have this perfect guy, he’s set on getting him the girl of his dreams.

Alternatively, Robin is starting to find it more and more difficult to explain to Vickie why she’s playing a game of set-up chicken with her friends.

Robin decides it’s time to end Eddie’s misery.

Her and Steve plan an elaborate picnic out at skull rock. There’s a big blanket, tons of pillows, and the most classic picnic basket you’ve ever seen.

Steve is pacing at the tree line. He needs this to go well. His crush had settled deep in his chest, and Steve was sure it was love. He didn’t want to play games with Eddie. It was time for everyone to clear the air and be direct with their feelings, but he couldn’t help the nerves that made him question everything. What if Eddie didn’t like him? Maybe he really did think Steve and Robin belonged together.

He tries to clear his mind. Robin was telling Eddie to come meet him here right about now. He should be here soon. Steve fiddles with his hair, trying to quell the anxiety.

When Eddie finally makes his way through the woods, Steve isn’t sure how to greet him.

Eddie’s surprised at the setup, and he immediately tries to rationalize it before Steve can get a word out. “Did you mean for me to come here? Buckley said you were looking for me, but I can go get her? Or do you need help setting up… I’m not sure you can do much else. It looks perfect.”

Steve is dumbfounded at Eddie’s ability to completely misread his intent, once again.

“No, Eddie, I meant for you to be here. This is for you.” He tries to speak clearly, leaving no room for confusion.

Eddie looks utterly confused. “For me?”

Steve can’t help his fond smile. “Yes, dummy. You. If you can stop trying to set me up with my best friend for a minute, I’ve been trying to ask you out for a while now.”

The man is gaping at him. “No. You’re not serious.”

He groans and tosses his hands up. “Eddie, what do I have to do to convince you?” Steve stares at him for a moment before he gets a bright idea. He stands up straight, walks up to Eddie in two long strides, grabs his face, and kisses him.

Eddie lets out a surprised noise before grabbing at Steve’s arms, waist, hair, anything for purchase to pull him closer.

Steve parts, pressing their foreheads together and keeping Eddie close. Eddie whines softly before looking back at Steve, trying to understand it all.

“I just wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think- I had no idea this was an option. Even if it couldn’t be with me, I just knew you deserved all the happiness,” the words spill out as Eddie reaches up to touch Steve’s face gently, tracing along his jaw reverently.

“I’m in love with you. I tried to get the words out so many times, but I was so nervous for how you’d react.” Steve leans into the touch.

Eddie’s breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Later, Robin introduces Eddie to her girlfriend, and he spends the rest of the afternoon apologizing for his schemes.

#steddie #eddie munson #my writing #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #platonic stobin #robin buckley #steve x eddie

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tinysunshine · 21 hours ago

Text

✧˖° 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 (𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐒) °˖✧

‎ [ 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

female reader, inclusive language. minors dni.

kinks: age difference, ddlg elements (no daddy kink), dumbification, reader is very ditzy, negan is protective, dom/sub dynamic, fingering, creampie, slightly rough sex, dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation

warnings and triggers: dumb! reader, name-calling, mentions of violence and death, negan is extremely manipulative, bullying, reader is a little insecure, dubcon

word count: 7k

plot with porn, slight alternate universe. slightly dead dove.

It’s beautiful, and Negan’s pretty sure this blind obedience and worship you have for him is the best kind of love he’s ever received. He’d do anything to keep you this docile. This trusting. This dumb, about who he is and what he does. You think he’s the nicest guy in the world, and you’re a sweet little thing. Why would he ever want to change that perception?

It’s funny, because when he was growing up, Negan never wanted to play with dolls.

He was a regular kid. A regular boy, who liked toy cars and dinosaurs, dug in the dirt and killed spiders and dared his friends to eat ants. Threw rocks at squirrels and played pirates and cowboys, stayed outside until the streetlights turned off. Average. Grew up to be above average, sure, but the fundamental parts of what make him a man have been inside of him since day one.

He’s mean. He’s pretty damn selfish, and he’d be the first to admit that. He’s rough, he’s aggressive, and sometimes he gets so mad he swears he can feel his dick chub up in his pants - especially when he hears the sound of another grown man begging, crying, or pleading. It’s not a gay thing, of course - more like a fucked up thing, but he knows he’s not alone in it.

He’s around men all day. Sees them hurt each other, mostly at his orders - but it’s all in good fun. At least for him. Men like that shit. They love to hurt, even if they say they don’t, and the little secret that most women don’t understand is that they like to be the one who’s hurt sometimes. Most of them won’t admit it, but Negan will.

It feels good, to get smacked in the face or to spit a tooth out after a gnarly punch to the cheek (but Negan’s got a dentist under this thumb, so he can enjoy that feeling, he’s lucky, he knows). When his vision gets blurry and his nose bleeds, ribs aching after a good fight - phew. Negan loves that shit. Knows every other man does too.

That excitement, the frustration, all of it spreading through his body like a wildfire until he feels his hand curl into a fist to get his retribution. It’s almost as good as an orgasm, because it makes him feel alive. What’s more human than pain?

Negan Smith is a man, through and through. Always has been, always will be.

Which makes it so funny, such a crazy twist of fate, that his favorite toy is now you.

His perfect, little doll.

Crazy how life works out, huh?

────

When Negan found you, you were all alone.

Well, you thought you were alone.

You were staying at a run-down farm house that Negan’s men found because they were looking for a group of people that tried to fuck him over. A group of scared fucking pathetic excuses for men, which disgusted Negan to no end. He wants to terrify people, sure - gets a thrill, and an erection out of it. But seeing people sweat before he’s even opened his mouth is just infuriating.

What if he was a nice guy? They’d never know. Pretty fucked up, Negan thinks, judging someone based on their appearance.

The group started firing at his men before they even got out of their truck, and then they had to be chased, and when Negan’s men lost them he had to get involved. A few days came and went before they were finally found, and just in perfect time too - because those men must’ve seen that you were staying alone at the house and were planning to fuck you over.

Fuck you too. Negan heard them planning it by some trees about a half a mile away from the house, before he beat in their brains with his bat.

Now, Negan knows he’s a monster. But he’d never gang up on a woman with his men. It’s tasteless. Disgusting. Tacky, deplorable. Weak.

Because him? Well, Negan came on to you all on his own.

His first thought when he found you, completely clueless about the fate that awaited you, on the front porch of a farm house that had surely seen better days, was that you were cute.

Too cute to be alive in this world, living on your own. Negan has a lot of wives, yeah, but they all looked like shit when he found them. He just has an eye for that sort of thing - finding beauty in the things nobody else can see.

He saw it in all those women he forced to be his bride - beauty in their features all dirtied up from time on the road that he knew would be pretty again after a shower and some lip gloss. Beauty, in the blood under the nails of his men, the fragility of human life and the almost unbreakable spirit. Beauty, in all the luxuries he used to take for granted before walkers became a thing and changed everything.

Negan knows beauty when he sees it, and when he saw you, he realized he'd laid his eyes on the most beautiful thing still left in this world.

When you saw him, you didn’t panic. When you saw his men, you didn’t even frown. Instead, on that little porch, you arched an eyebrow and looked at him curiously. You were sitting down on the ground, a pair of tiny, denim shorts on and scuffed up boots. Negan noticed that you had a little flower tucked behind your ear, and he wondered if you were insanely brave or just stupid.

Either way, he was intrigued.

“You alone?” He asked a question that would have alarm bells going on in just about anyone else’s head. But not yours. No, you took it a step further than Negan could’ve anticipated. You stood up, walked to him, and gave him a hug.

Negan thought it was a trap. He really did. Was sure that this was going to be the way he finally died, and goddamnit - maybe he deserved it. Clever fucking asshole, whoever designed this honeypot of a beautiful girl all alone, looking like she was waiting to be rescued.

But it wasn’t a trap.

You were actually happy to see him and his men. You pulled away from the hug and let out a sigh of relief, blowing a piece of hair out of your face with a cute expression. You smiled, and Negan realized how much he missed the look of innocence. He didn't realize how long it'd been since he'd last seen it. “I’m so happy you’re here,” you said, taking the flower out from behind your ear. You handed it to him. “It was so scary being all alone.”

────

You’re beautiful, but that’s the least interesting thing about you. Don’t get Negan wrong though - you are beautiful. Fucking perfect, like a little doll, with soft skin and perky tits and a sweet smile whenever you get your way.

Which makes you perfect for Negan, because you’re also about as brainless as a doll, pretty head all empty, and whatever he tells you to do, whatever he thinks, whatever he wants - you agree. That simple, that smooth. Even Negan was impressed when he realized just how ditzy you were.

He’s not trying to be insulting either. People have different strengths, and using your brain is not one of yours. You’re so fucking hot though, that it doesn’t really matter what you say or do. Your passivity, your cuteness, the big eyed look you give him whenever you’re confused about something he says (which is frequently) - Negan could cum in his pants just thinking about it.

You’re special to him.

The minute he brought you home, he hated the guts of every single one of his wives. Although, maybe hate is too strong of a word. Because Negan doesn't even hate them, truthfully, because he doesn't even think of them. Once he had you in his presence, you took up so much of his time that he was shocked (and pleased) that someone didn’t try to overthrow his position as leader in his absence.

He knew from the minute he had you in his truck, leaving that farm house, that you’d end up meaning a lot to him. The day he found you, he had his men walk around the little house you were staying in, looking for any valuables. There were some, and even though Negan found you charming, he still didn’t know you. Didn’t know if that happy to not be alone thing was an act or not.

He drilled you, asked you questions and tried to scare you a little bit, but it was impossible to frighten you - which frightened him. He’ll admit, you spooked him with your naivety back then. It was creepy as shit.

You just kept giggling, kept standing too close to him, and when Negan finally made his men look through the house, you took a seat on the old couch in the living room. “So nice of them to help me with my stuff. I’ve been alone here since my brother never came back after he went looking for something for us to eat. I’m really lonely. Really hungry too.” It was obvious to Negan at that moment, just how clueless you really were - but it was also really fucking cute.

He’d spent so much time fighting, arguing, forcing - and finally having someone give in without resistance was nice. That day, he found himself sitting back on the couch in front of you, and then you made the move to get up and sit next to him. Clueless. Dangerous, your innocence.

But deep down, in a thought Negan didn’t even want to admit to himself -

It was nice to be around someone who wasn’t scared of him. Someone he didn’t have to force.

“We only just met, kid. Personal space,” he remembers saying, but you just laughed. Sweet and hungry, you said. Negan couldn’t wait to bring you home and feed you. He was already wondering where you would fit in, hating himself for being worried about how the other women would treat you if he threw you in with his wives. Maybe you could teach them a thing or two, about being nice. But then again.

His wives are bitches. Although Negan can’t say he doesn’t understand why.

“You play baseball?” You asked, looking towards his bat that was resting beside his foot while he held onto it. He was in a state of disbelief. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so, so -

“No, honey, I don’t. You pullin’ my leg or something? Or are you really just that,” stupid, he wanted to say. But he didn’t. Because your bottom lip jutted out like you were about to cry, then your eyes filled with tears, and Negan loves to hurt people to see how far he can take it until they try to hurt him back - but with you, he knew you wouldn’t fight back.

Took a lot of the fun out of it, so he quickly changed the subject. It’s only fun to make a beautiful woman cry when it serves a purpose, and Negan didn’t see any purpose in hurting someone as…you know what? He’s got nothing nice to say, he won’t say anything at all.

“How’s this,” he said instead, placing a hand on your knee. Your skin was warm under his palm, soft where his rough fingers touched you. “You come back with us, and you can eat whatever you want. As much as you want. You in?”

Truth be told, Negan planned on bringing you back with him, regardless of if you wanted to come, at this point. Because when he touched your knee, you put your hand on top of his, and that was all it fucking took to disarm him.

Little bunny, not scared of the big bad wolf. Now that’s a fairy tale Negan’s never heard of -

He’s always liked to write his own rules, anyway.

────

Negan calls you his bunny, and you like it, but you think you like being called doll better.

He tells you all the time that you look like a doll. No matter what time of day, no matter what you look like, he’ll never stop giving you that compliment. It always makes your face heat up, and sometimes it even turns you on.

What can you say? You’re a woman, and being by Negan’s side makes you feel more feminine than you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

He treats you like you’re breakable. Gives your forehead kisses, brings you food, takes care of all your needs. The truth is, you’ve always been treated like you’re breakable, but nobody ever acted like they enjoyed having to take care of you. Negan says he’s happy that you need him so much, and you like that.

You like being the kind of woman who gets protected. The kind of woman who gets doted on and adored. Ever since you met Negan, your nails have been clean and your knees have been without a bandage, your tummy has been full - you didn’t think you’d ever feel clean and pretty again, until he swept you off your feet like you always dreamed would happen to you.

Negan has a lot of pet names for you. Bunny, doll - those are just a few. Sometimes you wonder if he even knows your real name, because he never says it. Baby, sweetheart, cutie. Darling. Everytime he opens his mouth to say something in regards to you, something sweet is coming out of it.

You’ve only been with him a few months, but you love him so much you can’t stand it. You want to be around him all the time, but it’s just not possible, he says.

You don’t know what Negan does when he leaves his, yours, the room you both share, because you spend most of your time in there. Sometimes you go out, with him, or with one of his men that you met that day at the farmhouse, but if Negan’s not taking you out, you don’t really want to go anywhere.

You’re happy to stay in the room. There’s books, although you don’t really read…but there’s plenty of things to do to keep yourself busy. Most of the time, you just sleep. Sometimes it’s a little boring, waiting for Negan, but you’re eternally grateful for being able to nap again. Life on the road was scary, stressful.

“You’re not built for life out there, baby,” Negan told you once, which translated to life without me, but it’s not like you disagreed. You were sitting on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder, asking him to tell you about his day. You love the stories he tells you, because they make you feel even more grateful to be somewhere safe.

Negan is so good to you.

You know that Negan is in charge of the place you’re at, and that makes you feel funny, and lucky, to be the woman he chose. You know it’s practically the apocalypse and all, but you’re sure he had a lot of women he could’ve chosen to date. He’s handsome, so handsome, and he’s the nicest, most generous man you’ve ever met.

He gives people jobs, and medical care. He has a system to kill off all the walkers that come too close to the building, and it’s so smart that you know he must’ve come up with it himself. He has so many supporters and people that respect him - which tells you all you need to know, about him being an amazing leader. When he walks in a room, everyone gets quiet, and that makes you feel giddy, knowing the amount of power he holds.

Although, it shouldn’t exactly surprise you. Negan was able to get power over you pretty quickly, but that’s only because you let him. It’s just -

You don’t know how else to be. You’ve always been this way - ditzy, head full of air, dumb. You’ve heard it your entire life, which is maybe why it feels so good to hear Negan call you nice things. To love that you might not be the, what was it your father always said to you? Not the brightest candle on the birthday cake? Not the sharpest tool in the shed?

You know you sound dumb - but you like sounding dumb. You like that Negan is around to think for you, to tell you what to do and when to do it. He tells you what you should be thinking, and you listen.

Negan knows best. You could hardly survive on your own for a week, and look at what he built.

Sometimes though, no matter how strong a leader Negan is, things get hard.

Bad things happen, little bunny, he tells you, patting his lap for you to take a seat. You do, and you look up at him with wide eyes, ready for whatever he plans on telling you. You know it has to be serious, because he didn’t ask you to take your clothes off yet. That’s usually the first thing out of his mouth, whenever he’s back in the room for the night.

Negan tells you that sometimes, people break his rules, and when that happens, they have to be punished. He asks if you heard anything while he was out, any screams or any loud voices - but you shake your head. You arch a brow, curious. “Why?” You ask, and he stares at you for a moment, tongue licking over his bottom lip. Then he grins, and you smile back cluelessly.

“That’s it, huh?” He says, but you know not to reply. You don’t need to. Talking out loud, Negan explained to you.

Sometimes he’s just in shock, is all, about how clueless you really are.

He maneuvers you easily, his little doll, into straddling his lap. Bucks his hips up, so you can feel what you’re doing to him just by existing. He killed three men today, burned the face off of another, and you’re looking at him like he hung all the stars in the sky.

It’s beautiful, and Negan’s pretty sure this blind obedience and worship you have for him is the best kind of love he’s ever received. He’d do anything to keep you this docile. This trusting.

This dumb, about who he is and what he does. You think he’s the nicest guy in the world, and you’re a sweet little thing. Why would he ever want to change that perception?

He reaches his hand between your bodies, to lift up the bottom of the big shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, to feel how wet you are. No panties, because he told you that they don’t exist anymore. Just - they were all taken. He didn’t know if you’d seriously believe that, but you do, and it’s just too good to be true.

“Don’t mean to worry you about all that grown up, scary stuff, honey,” he fakes an apology, loves that your little cunt is ready for him, wet, shaved all proper, sucking his finger in when he starts prodding at your opening. You whine, biting on the inside of your cheek because his fingers are so long and you love the attention after you’ve spent all day alone.

You're not even offended at his little insult. Grown up stuff, as if you're not a full adult yourself. You're too busy focusing on the feeling of his ownership, the fact that you quite literally exist for him, like any good toy does.

Although, be real. Being finger fucked or not, it's unlikely you would've understood that comment was an insult anyway.

It’s your special time together, moments like these, and if it’s even possible - you become more brainless. Let him play with your pussy, let him push you down on the couch, slip his dick inside of you, make you so full that sometimes the feeling scares you a little, but you like it nonetheless.

Your favorite part about the sex is how it feels to be in Negan’s arms after. Warm, body loose, his cum dripping out of you as he tucks you into bed. Back at that farmhouse, all alone, you cried yourself to sleep every night. There were so many scary noises, so much land that you could only imagine the horror that was lurking outside. When your family was alive, you were still scared -

They’d just tell you to shut up. But not Negan.

There’s no fear with Negan, you think, closing your eyes as his arms wrap around you.

You’re the safest you could possibly be. You think about this while your drift off to sleep, but Negan thinks the opposite -

He’s the face of nightmares to more people than he can name, but you cling to him like he’s your savior.

────

“You got any brains in that head? Or is it just filled with ribbons and whatever that frilly shit you’ve got on is called?” Dave, one of the men you hate most in this world, snaps the strap of your tank top against your shoulder so hard that it makes you want to cry. Your eyes fill up with tears, and in typical you fashion, you stomp your foot and use what little strength you have to push him away from you. Your bottom lip trembles.

“Leave me alone,” you whine (beg), arms crossed over yourself protectively when Dave finally steps back.

He’s not alone - a few moments ago, you screamed and the men patrolling the compound heard and came running. But they did nothing to help, and instead, have made you feel bad about screaming at all. As if you could control your reaction to a fucking spider crawling across the toe of your shoe. Brand new shoes, you must add, because don’t these men understand how hard it is to get new shit nowadays?

Don’t they understand how scary and dangerous spiders are?

The honest truth is that it doesn’t cross your mind that these are the same men that risked their life to get you the shoes you’re wearing, but. They don’t have to be so mean.

“No. You’re such a dumbass. Screaming like that’s fuckin’ dangerous,” another man says, and you don’t even know his name but being reprimanded like this makes you cry. Being called a dumbass makes you want to sob. You admit that, yeah, maybe you’re a little airheaded sometimes. Maybe you’re a little clueless, when adjusting to life in this new, yucky world, but fuck - would it kill people to be nice?

Name calling is never the answer.

“I’m not dumb,” you say softly, with no confidence in your voice. You should have known better than to leave the room without asking anyone to escort you.

There’s no rule that says you can’t leave the room, but you’ve been at the sanctuary for months now, and you rarely leave the room you share with Negan unless he’s with you. Out of all the men that work for him - the only ones that treat you decently are the ones that were with him that day they found you at the farmhouse.

The times you do leave the room, everyone treats you so weird. They’re all cruel, whispering about how stupid you are when you walk past, holding Negan’s hand. Or they just stare at you, which makes you feel insecure. It’s even worse when they ask you questions, because no matter how hard you think about the answer, they’re unhappy with it.

You think to a few weeks ago, when you walked past a room with a bunch of women just sitting around. Negan said you weren’t allowed to go in there, but when his back was turned later that day, you walked over there to talk to some of them.

“Negan know you’re here?” One of them asked, looking nervously behind your shoulder. Your brows furrowed, confused.

“Huh? Uh, no, but it’s okay. I just never see any other women here, I,” but she cut you off, and you heard hushed whispers in the corner of the room where a small group of women sat together.

“You should go,” she said, dismissing you, and that was the last time you left the room. In the room, you’re safe.

You’ve got things to do, and a big collection of stuff that makes you happy that Negan got for you. Clothes, magazines, even if they are old. Purses and things to color with, to paint with. You keep pretty busy most days. Plus, his side of the bed smells like him, and you love to nap next to it when he’s not around.

You only left the room today because Negan didn’t come back last night, and you’re worried about him and very upset and lonely.

You walked around the sanctuary, wondering where he could possibly be, when a spider crawled across your shoe and, well. Here you are.

“A spider isn’t a fuckin’ emergency. Jesus fuck, I swear, Negan’s a sick son of a bitch for even fucking you. ‘S like you got a problem or something,” Dave says, and you wish you could just walk away and run back to the room, where you’d be safe, surrounded by all the things that make you happy - but they’re all blocking your path.

“Yeah, man,” the other one says. You wish you weren’t so bad with names. “Scared of a spider but not scared of the fuckin’ walkers outside,” he scoffs, and somehow you find it in you to defend yourself. You wish you could say more, but you just can’t. It’s so frustrating, not being able to come up with anything to say on the spot.

“Walkers used to be human. Spiders are icky bugs. I’m scared of bugs, not humans. I didn’t mean to scream,” but nobody is listening to you.

“It’s not right, Negan fuckin’ you. Weird as shit. You got something wrong with you? Dropped on your head as a baby? Can’t feel right fuckin’ a dumbass doll, you’re real cute though,” and he just goes on and on while the other men laugh, and you can’t help it, tears are pouring.

“I just want to find Negan. Where is he?” You try to wipe your eyes, hating yourself for being such a big baby. Hating yourself, for not paying better attention to the layout of your new home when Negan gave you a tour, because you were so focused on the feeling of holding his hand, that you paid no attention to almost everything else. You hate how dependent on him you are, and you wonder if he hates it too.

Maybe he’s been gone because he’s sick of you. Maybe he’s going to bring you back to the farmhouse, because he doesn’t like you anymore. Maybe everyone else told him why they don’t like you, and now he believes them, and he’s such a good leader that -

Footsteps, and then you hear the slow, deliberate chuckle you’ve come to know so well. You’d recognize Negan anywhere, even with your eyes closed. He rounds the corner, behind Dave and the other men, and they scramble like they’re stepping on hot coals with bare feet, making room for him.

“Ohhh, no no no,” he says, voice like honey, and you wonder why. You wonder why he’s happy, until it clicks in your brain that this might be the sarcasm your brother used to always talk about. “See, I might let a lotta things go. But talking to her like that? That’s just beggin’ for a lesson in respect.”

Negan doesn’t yell. Just tilts his head, eyes narrowing in on the men who were just being big old meanies to you. Your crying stops, but you’re so upset that you don’t even run to Negan like you normally would. You look down, towards your shoe, where Negan uses the tip of his bat to kill the spider that wandered off.

“Go to our room, bunny. You know how to get back there, don’t you, sweet girl?”

You don’t, not really, and you must freeze for long enough that Negan takes his eyes off the men and shakes his head. Then his eyes focus on you, and he nods in the direction to go.

“That way, baby,” he says with a sigh, and then you scamper off.

────

Negan’s pissed -

It’s been a long time since he’s felt this emotion, but the truth is that he’s pissed at himself.

He should have known better than to leave you alone overnight. He didn’t intend to be gone so long, but shit happened that he had to handle, and you’d been so easy to manage since you arrived. So good. So happy and at peace with what he gives you, eager for isolation in a way that even surprised him.

He didn’t think you’d even notice if he was gone, but that was his mistake - because the minute he found you back in the room, crying your eyes out again, he set his bat by the door and hoped to god that you were dumb enough to not notice the literal pieces of brain stuck to it. Dave, and the others who were dumb enough to fuck with you?

They were handled, and Negan finds it kind of funny that they had the nerve to insult your intelligence. As if speaking to you like that wasn’t about the stupidest, most suicidal thing a man at the sanctuary could do.

“I’m so sorry, Negan. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” you sob, even as he sits down beside you and pulls your tiny frame into his lap. You latch onto him, sniffling and shaking your head, obviously disappointed at the way you acted.

You’re such a good girl, that even when you don’t break the rules, you’re still worried about getting into trouble. Desperate for his approval, eager to please, eyes that look like that when they’re filled with tears.

Jesus fucking -

Negan’s painfully hard, and he’s ready to take his cock out and tell you to lick it, bunny, yeah, like a lollipop, but he’s got to make you feel better first. His sweet girl, his best girl, worried that he might be mad at her.

“You’re not in trouble, baby, you know that? Did nothing wrong. Dave and the others will be taken care of, don’t you worry,” he rubs your back with one big hand, doesn’t even try to mask the fake concern and damn near baby talk just to make you feel better. Anyone else would be able to see right through it, but not you.

Fuck, even that thought makes him harder.

“I don’t know why they don’t like me, but,” you stutter out. “It’s not a big deal. Guess I’m just being a baby, I just missed you, and I got lost, and then there was the spider and,” Negan has to stop you there.

“Not a big deal?” he echoes you, voice low and no longer sugar sweet. “Baby, someone made you cry. That is a big deal. That’s a fucking world-ending deal.”

Negan’s never felt this way about a woman. Protective. Sure, he’s felt possessive about his wives, will burn the face off of any fucking bastard who tries to touch them even if he’s ignoring them, but he could care less what actually happens to them.

But you? Knowing that you were lonely. Lost, all dumb and cute wandering around the sanctuary. It was risky, he’ll admit, to have you think it’s alright for you to just walk around freely. What if you saw something that changed the way you thought about him? What if you hurt yourself, what is someone tried to touch you? He makes a mental note to think of some excuse to have you stay in the room from now on, unless he’s with you. Something to scare you.

Just thinking about those fucking pieces of shit upsetting you - he might have to dig their decaying corpses out of the guts of the walkers he fed them to, just to kill them again.

You’re nervous. He can tell, by how tense you are on his lap. Wordlessly, he grabs your hips and forces you to sit, enjoys the feeling of his bulge bumping up against the thin fabric that hides your cunt. No more underwear - fucking genius of him.

“Look, honey,” he starts, sighing again as if it’s hard for him to say this. “I wouldn’t hurt a fly. You know that -”

“You killed a spider, though. That’s kind of like a fly.”

Are you fucking serious? Negan ignores that. At least you’re not crying anymore.

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt anyone, but anyone messing with you needs to have some consequences,” you’re pouting, and you look like you’re about to cry again, so he changes the subject. That’s always easy to do with you, and he feels a rush of affection for his sweet, dumb girl.

Gently, he pushes you off his lap so he can stand, then he grabs your hand to lead you to the bed. He takes your clothes off first, sitting on the edge of the bed while you’re standing between his legs, and he rubs his hands up and down your sides.

So soft. So perfect, your cute little skirt falling to the floor. He helps you step out of it because he knows how clumsy you are, and when your breasts are bare he grabs both of them in his hands, rubs his thumbs over your nipples, lets the sexy sounds you make go straight to his dick.

“Where were you, Negan?” You ask, and that surprises him. Takes him aback, because you never ask him questions like that. If you were any other woman, he might think that you were trying to catch him in a lie or something - but because you’re you, he just leans in and kisses you, fists a hand in the back of your hair while he does it, a little roughly.

You told him once, that he was too rough, and he told you that all men are like that if they really like a woman. That’s all he had to say. You believed him. Even asked him after that, on a night he was all gentle, if he still liked you.

His dick gets harder, if possible, thinking about it.

“You don’t need to worry your little head about that, alright? I’ll be honest with you, baby - I’ll probably need to go out again tonight,” he ignores your frown by standing, pushing you down on the bed. You’re on your stomach, and then he pats you on the ass, and you’re so good that you remember what that means. What you’re supposed to do. You get on all fours, and you don’t even whine like usual when he pushes down on your back to get you to arch.

You don’t question him further, but maybe that’s because he takes his belt off, unzips his pants, takes his dick out and gets behind you on the bed. He runs the head of his cock, leaking, between your folds, grins at the way you’re trying to suck him in. Greedy little thing, how badly you want his cock.

He presses in a little, just to tease you, and you make small noises and move your hips a little. “What a good girl,” he talks out loud, but he knows that his girl likes a lot of praise. “Doesn’t matter how long I keep you on a shelf, dolly, does it? You’d be here, waiting for me. Ready for me, however I want you. Fuck,” he groans, when he bottoms out inside of you.

Your pussy is better than all of his wives combined, but maybe that’s just because you’re his. His to break in, his to mold to his own liking. His to fuck, his to keep, his girl, his toy, his doll. Those other women - they weren’t even his to start with, which was a little fun, part of the appeal - but it’s nothing like this. Nothing is as good as this.

Negan fucks you, and you take it. Honestly, it used to freak him out a little, how submissive you are. Just laying there, however he asks you to, keeping quiet if not for the little noises you make. You cum fast, whenever he touches your clit or finds that spot inside of you, and he knows it’s because you never touch yourself.

He asked you once, if you play with yourself when he’s gone, but you looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t know how to,” you said, all embarrassed, but Negan wants to keep you that way. Like a pot that boils only for him, his little magic lamp. A few thrusts here, his fingers or a lick there and - boom. Squeezing his cock so tight it feels like it’s about to break off. Perfect.

He cums deep inside of you, hopes that one day he’ll be able to knock you up, but he’s still a little nervous about how you’d be as a mother. Maybe he could get one of his wives to help out if that happened, or maybe -

He pulls his dick out of you, sweaty and spent, trying to screw his head back on straight. Maybe he should not even be thinking about starting a family right now. He’s got enough on his plate as is, especially when you turn around and look at him with hearts in your eyes, making grabby hands at him that just look too innocent when you’ve got his spunk leaking out of your pussy.

Negan lays down with you, and you lay your head on his chest, drawing hearts and little shapes with your finger on his skin while he catches his breath.

“Bunny,” he warns after a few minutes, and you look towards him, position yourself on your stomach with your hands flat on his chest, your head balanced on top of them. You’re looking at him like he’s the sun, and shit if it's not waning on his evil streak just a little bit. You’re fucking precious.

“I don’t want to leave you, but I have some business to take care of,” and then your happy look fades.

Even so, you try to snuggle closer, until he literally just pulls you closer.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. What if someone hurts you, and you never come back?” Your voice is quiet, sad, and Negan almost blows his entire cover right there, almost wants to tell you that there’s no bigger monster than him just to tame your anxiety.

Instead, he changes the story. Tells you that there’s some insane guy out there, with a group of people who are taking supplies away from the sanctuary. They want to hurt people, they want to hurt him, but he’s arranging a peaceful talk and hopefully, they’ll agree. He’ll have plenty of backup, of course, and you know how good I am at staying calm, honey, and then you’re at ease, kissing him all sloppy because you miss him already, and really, it’s a perfect send off.

“Good girl,” he tells you later, when you make it easy for him to leave. You don’t give him any shit. After fucking you, he spent a few hours just playing with you. Making you try on some of the new clothes he found you, he did a new puzzle with you (you’re surprisingly good at puzzles, and he’s impressed), and then he counted how many fingers you could take in your sweet little cunt before cumming (four).

You had good quality time together, which is why his praise means so much. But who are you kidding: Negan’s praise is the most important thing in the world to you.

When he says goodbye, he makes you promise (pinky promise) to stay in the room. That someone will bring you food, but he’ll be back in the morning. You promise, stand up on your tip toes when he teases you by holding his hand higher than you can reach, but you end up grabbing his closed fist and you press a kiss to his outstretched pinky. Then you kiss him, and he asks you to keep his bed warm. Stay pretty for him, he says, shutting the door. Keep bein’ sweet.

When the door locks behind him, Negan thinks about you the entire way to the car, even with his men following him. He should feel bad about the way he treats you, but he doesn’t.

He tells you stories, half-truths painted in bright colors. You think he keeps people safe, that he’s a good person who does things for the greater good, and you’re always amazed that he’s willing to protect people like you, who can’t do anything without someone else calling the shots.

It’s not so wrong though, he thinks, wanting to keep you in the dark. Someone like you deserves an opportunity to stay soft. If anything, he’s doing you a favor, keeping you sheltered like this.

You stay soft, you stay blind to the cold, hard truth about the fucked up world around you. About the man you share your bed with.

He’ll kill and hurt and do whatever he has to do to survive, and because he finds a thrill in it - and you'll stay locked up like a pretty doll on a shelf, spending your days applying lotion and trying on pretty dresses, doing your puzzles and looking through your magazines. Dumb and oblivious and waiting on him to give you a purpose. Perfect.

Negan’s not a romantic, but he thinks that there’s something safe about not knowing the truth. Something kind of beautiful about believing in the myth of a good man.

That night, before Negan steps out of his trailer, before he lines up every member of the fucking group he’s been itching to put in their place for much too long now, he looks in his pocket for the picture of you that he snapped on a polaroid camera. Pretty, sweet, sitting on his couch in a pink tank top and a little white skirt.

You’re beautiful, and you think he’s good.

If he looks hard enough at you, he wonders if he’ll start to convince himself of it too.

Negan Smith is a bad man, he knows - but he thinks you might be sweet enough for the both of you.

#negan smith ㅤ♡#negan x reader #negan smut #negan x you #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith smut #twd x reader #twd smut #twd imagine #twd x you #twd x y/n #negan smith

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seitmai · 2 days ago

Text

Many thoughts

After missions, when his knuckles were bruised and dried blood was crusted along his jawline, when the weight of command pressed against his ribcage like a vice—he didn’t seek out painkillers or food or even a shower. He sought her. He’d find her wherever she was—on the couch, in their bed—and drop to his knees without a word. He’d bury his face in her thighs, pressing in like a man starving for warmth, for absolution, for peace. Just a moment. Just to breathe.

🥰🥰🥰

It wasn’t even sexual.

But I would guess at least sometimes it is 🤭

Or, not always. Sometimes it was something quieter than desire—something deeper. He needed her thighs the way others needed oxygen, as though resting his head there recalibrated him, realigned all the parts of him that war and violence had shattered. It grounded him, reminded him of softness, of home.

A very special place to him

His favorite place in the world wasn’t on a battlefield or behind the shield. It was right there—head nestled between her thighs, her fingers threading idly through his hair. She’d stroke him lazily, nails grazing his scalp with hypnotic tenderness, and he’d hum low in his chest, that deep, content sound that only ever belonged to her. The kind of noise a man makes when he’s safe. When he’s loved.

🥹🥹🥹

That position had, historically, a 90% chance of ending with Steve gripping her thighs like they were the last stable thing on Earth and worshipping her between them like a penitent man on his knees. He’d eat her out with the reverence of someone who’d survived a famine and finally gotten his hands on a feast. And he never—never—regretted it.

Of course he doesn't 🤭😌

Her hand was in his hair instantly, like muscle memory, like she knew. Her fingers scratched softly at his scalp, and Steve exhaled a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. His whole body melted, the tension bleeding out of him in slow, grateful waves.

The place where is finally able to let go and breathe

She answered—he didn’t catch the words. Didn’t need to. The book didn’t matter. The plot didn’t matter. The whole world could fall away, and it wouldn’t matter. Only this did. Her thighs beneath his cheek, her fingers in his hair, the steady thrum of her pulse just beneath the skin.

Not a cate in the word or a thought in his brain 🥰

“I’ll shower later,” he murmured, voice muffled by the softness of her skin. He didn’t open his eyes. Didn’t move. His hands wandered up beneath the hem of her shirt, palms calloused and warm, familiar in every line and pressure. One found her breast with practiced ease, not groping or urgent, just resting there—fingers splayed gently across her, grounding himself in the rhythm of her breathing. The other hand came to a stop low on her belly, thumb brushing idly against her navel.

It sounds so cozy 🥰

She looked down at him—this man who had led armies, defied gods, carried the weight of nations on his back—and smiled at the way he curled into her like a child seeking comfort. “You look like you’re about two seconds from passing out,” she said, her voice a quiet laugh as her fingers combed through his hair again, slow and soothing. “Probably,” he admitted without hesitation, his words drifting lazily from his mouth like he barely had the energy to push them past his lips.

He isn't even denying it 🤭

The earnestness in his voice caught her off guard. He wasn’t trying to charm her, wasn’t trying to get laid—he was just tired. Raw. Real. And this—her thighs, her skin, her warmth—was where he came to fall apart and be put back together.

🥹🥹🥹

“You’re gonna fall asleep like this, aren’t you?” she asked softly, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. “Mmhmm,” he hummed. “Don't stop touching me.” “I wasn’t planning on it,” she said, almost to herself, hand drifting slowly down from his hair to the side of his face, cradling his jaw.

Music to his ears 🥰

Her thighs instinctively tightened around his head, not harshly, but enough to trap him there—cradling him again, even in unconsciousness. The corners of his mouth lifted into a grin against her. Still asleep, and already so responsive. His girl.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

She tasted like heat and skin and everything good in the world. And God—he'd never get tired of this. Of her. Of waking up with his face between her thighs and her body offering itself to him in the soft, golden silence of morning.

A perfect morning 😌

And fuck, what a way to wake up.

Truly

BURIED IN HER

she always knew where to find him after a mission—hands bruised, eyes stormy, jaw clenched like he could barely hold himself together. but the second she opened her arms, he’d crawl into her like he was starving. like her thighs were the only thing that could hold all that violence in place. steve didn’t even pretend to fight it anymore. not when the only thing that made him feel human again was burying his head between her legs and breathing her in. she was his soft place. his anchor. his home. and some mornings, when she was still asleep and the world hadn’t touched her yet—he’d wake her up with his mouth. slow, gentle, reverent. like he was praying. like she was holy. and god help him, maybe she was.

pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

genre: smut, soft!Steve, post-mission comfort, domestic fluff

tw: MDNI 18+, explicit sexual content, oral (f!receiving), thigh kink, sleepy sex, soft dom!Steve, possessiveness, Steve being pussy drunk, gentle wake-up, domestic softness, mild overstimulation, hair pulling, praise, emotional vulnerability in bed, Steve being addicted to reader’s thighs, soft sleepy morning sex, worshipful vibes

bot version: STEVE ROGERS - thighs

Steve could never quite articulate it—not in any way that didn’t sound absurd, not in a way that felt appropriately reverent—but he had a thing for Y/N’s thighs. Not just a passing admiration or casual appreciation, but a quiet, bone-deep obsession that bordered on sacred. It was instinctual, elemental. Something primal in him gravitated to them, as if they were a compass point he was biologically programmed to follow.

There was no strategy behind it, no clever psychological rationale he could offer, and certainly no tactical excuse grounded in military logic. It wasn’t about lust—at least not just that. It was the comfort they offered, the steadiness. The softness that promised rest, and the strength that reminded him of who she was. Or maybe it was something even simpler. Maybe it was her—her warmth, her nearness, her reality. In a world that so often felt like it was coming apart at the seams, she was what held him together.

It had become muscle memory—this unconscious need to anchor himself with touch. Whenever they were side by side, whether tangled up on the couch, curled into bed, or crammed into the quinjet after a mission, his hand always found its way to her thigh. It wasn't a display of dominance, not some subconscious claim to ownership. It was need. His fingers would settle against her, curling gently into the flesh like he needed to remind himself that the world was still solid, that she was there, that he could still feel something tender after so much violence.

It wasn’t even sexual.

Of course, Y/N rarely let him stay in that position long without a side-eye and a muttered, “You always get handsy,” like he wasn’t a grown man with a bit of self-control.

Which—fine. Maybe she had a point.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, he was just tired. Not in the way that sleep could fix, but that bone-deep weariness that came from sparring too hard and feeling too much. Training with Bucky had left his muscles aching, his shirt soaked in sweat, every inch of him humming with exhaustion. He didn’t even bother showering. Just dragged himself down the hall, peeled off his shirt, and stumbled into the bedroom they shared.

And there she was.

Reclined on the bed like something sacred—legs bare, stretched out in front of her, the curve of her thighs catching the low light in a way that made his throat go dry. She wore one of his old T-shirts, threadbare with age, the collar loose around one shoulder, and a pair of black underwear that did absolutely nothing to help his resolve. A book rested in her hands, her eyes skimming lazily across the page, utterly unaware of the effect she had on him.

His heart gave a low, thudding ache in his chest.

“You look comfortable,” he rasped, voice hoarse with exhaustion as he climbed onto the bed beside her. He shifted without ceremony, settling his head right into the cradle of her thighs like it was his birthright. His safe place.

“What are you reading?” he mumbled, already halfway to sleep, his lips brushing her skin with each syllable.

She answered—he didn’t catch the words. Didn’t need to. The book didn’t matter. The plot didn’t matter. The whole world could fall away, and it wouldn’t matter.

Only this did.

Her thighs beneath his cheek, her fingers in his hair, the steady thrum of her pulse just beneath the skin.

That was all he needed to feel like himself again.

That was home.

“You’re sweaty,” she remarked, amusement curling at the edges of her voice as she set her book aside on the nightstand. She didn’t sound annoyed—far from it. There was a softness to her tone, a fond indulgence she rarely extended to anyone but him. Her fingers remained buried in his hair, stilling for a moment before resuming their lazy motion, raking through the damp strands with a tenderness that belied her teasing words.

Steve hummed, low and content, and nudged her thighs apart just a little—gentle, coaxing, as though even now he still asked permission to exist in her orbit. He shifted slightly, resting the full weight of his head in the cradle between her legs, cheek pressed to warm skin. Then, with an unhurried kind of care, he guided her thighs back in to rest loosely around his head, like he was being swaddled. Protected. Held.

“Probably,” he admitted without hesitation, his words drifting lazily from his mouth like he barely had the energy to push them past his lips.

She let herself sink back into the pillows, her body relaxing as the rise and fall of his breath matched hers. There was something deeply intimate about the silence that followed—not heavy, not awkward, just theirs. A kind of quiet that only existed between people who had stopped pretending they needed to fill every space with conversation.

His thumb continued its absent stroke over her stomach. Slow. Gentle. Reverent.

“Comfortable?” she asked softly, glancing down again.

Steve nodded, his nose brushing the inside of her thigh. “Mm. Best pillow in the world.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. “Flatterer.”

“No. Honest,” he murmured. “I could die right here and I’d go out happy.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m serious.” His grip tightened slightly around her waist, his hand on her breast flexing with unconscious affection. “You’ve got no idea how good this feels after a day like today. You’re… you’re everything, sweetheart.”

She looked down at him again, her heart tightening a little at the sight. He looked so much younger like this, vulnerable in a way she doubted anyone else ever got to see. His lashes fluttered slightly as her nails grazed his scalp. His lips were parted, breath slow and even. He wasn’t just using her body as a place to rest. He was using her as a balm. A sanctuary.

“You’re gonna fall asleep like this, aren’t you?” she asked softly, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. “Don't stop touching me.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she said, almost to herself, hand drifting slowly down from his hair to the side of his face, cradling his jaw.

He sighed—deep and full, like her touch was the exhale his body had been aching for all day. And as her thumb stroked gently along his cheekbone, she realized she didn’t mind at all. Let him stay there, sweaty and heavy and half-asleep between her thighs. Let him use her body like a prayer.

He’d carried the weight of the world. She could carry this—carry him—for a while.

They’d fallen asleep like that—tangled, still, and wholly at peace. Steve’s head nestled between her thighs, his body half-curled around her like he’d found sanctuary in her limbs. One hand had remained tucked beneath her shirt, possessive in the gentlest way, fingers splayed across the swell of her breast. The other rested against her stomach, rising and falling in time with her slow, even breaths.

For Steve, it might as well have been heaven. The scent of her, the warmth, the rhythmic lull of her body beneath his touch—it grounded him more thoroughly than any battlefield ever could.

Morning arrived soft and golden, slipping through the curtains in slanted beams. The room was quiet save for the faint hum of traffic far below and the gentle whirr of the ceiling fan overhead. Steve stirred first, eyes fluttering open with a slow blink as consciousness returned in pieces. He lay there for a moment, still groggy, his cheek pressed against the tender inside of her thigh, breath fanning over her skin. One of his hands twitched sleepily, fingers curling lightly against her stomach.

He blinked again and brought a hand up to rub the last traces of sleep from his eyes, then turned his head just enough to look at her.

Y/N was still asleep, and the sight of her like this made something ache sweetly in his chest. Her hair was a tousled mess, strewn across the pillow like a halo of sleep-drunken chaos. Her lips were parted just slightly, the same soft, pink lips he’d fallen asleep dreaming about. One of her hands still rested on his—the one cupping her breast—her fingers curled loosely over his, like even in sleep she wasn’t ready to let go. The other had fallen from his hair sometime during the night and now lay against her stomach, unmoving and relaxed.

Steve smiled quietly to himself, that warm, full kind of smile that lived only for her. This version of her—unguarded, soft, and real—was his favorite.

He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh. Her skin was warm beneath his lips, smooth, familiar. Sacred.

One kiss turned into another. Then another. Slow, reverent. He trailed soft, barely-there kisses up along the curve of her inner thigh, his breath warm against her skin. When he reached the juncture where her thighs met, he hesitated for the briefest of seconds—then pressed a tender, lingering kiss over the fabric of her underwear.

The reaction was immediate and involuntary.

God, he loved how she responded to him without even realizing it.

He stayed there for a moment, caught between reverence and desire, resting his cheek against her again as one hand slowly, gently, rubbed soothing circles along her hip. He wasn’t trying to wake her. Not yet. He just wanted to be close. To worship without words. To start the morning with his lips on her skin and the weight of her body beneath his hands.

This was what mornings were supposed to feel like.

Warm. Intimate. Hers.

Steve stayed there for another breathless minute, held snug between her thighs, just basking in the feel of her. The scent of her. The fact that she was still asleep and yet already reacting to him. It stirred something deep in his chest—an ache that was equal parts tenderness and hunger.

He shifted slightly, pressing one more kiss to the soft fabric stretched over her center, letting his lips linger there, breathing her in. Then, with the quiet reverence of someone handling something fragile and precious, he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and began easing them down her hips. Inch by inch, slow and careful, like undressing a goddess in her temple.

She stirred faintly, a small hum slipping past her lips, but she didn’t wake.

Not yet.

Steve smiled against her skin.

Once the fabric was halfway down her thighs, he leaned in again, lips brushing against her newly exposed skin with something akin to devotion. A gentle kiss. Then another, lower this time. He was taking his time—because he could. Because she'd let him.

He spread her legs a little wider, just enough to settle in completely, his arms looping beneath her thighs to draw her closer, hold her steady. And then he gave in.

He kissed her slowly, open-mouthed and adoring, starting at her inner thighs and working his way inward until his lips finally met her core.

His tongue flicked out in one slow, exploratory drag, just enough pressure to taste her, to feel the way she shivered in response. Another soft, sleepy sound escaped her throat—a half-whimper, like her body wasn’t sure if it was dreaming. Her hips shifted instinctively, like they were searching for more friction even before her brain had fully caught up.

Steve groaned quietly, the sound low and reverent, vibrating against her.

He licked her again, slower this time, more deliberate. His grip on her thighs tightened just a little as he began to focus—mapping her out all over again, like he hadn't already memorized every shift of her hips, every gasp, every twitch that meant more there, or harder now, or yes, Steve, right there.

And then—finally—she stirred.

Her breath caught. Her legs twitched, thighs tightening again around his head. Her hand blindly groped down toward the source of sensation, fingers threading through his hair, gripping it lightly.

“Steve,” she breathed, still half-asleep, voice raspy and sweet and startled all at once.

He didn’t stop.

He responded by sucking her clit into his mouth, gently, persistently, his tongue flicking against it in slow, rhythmic strokes as he groaned again, this time louder. Deliberate.

Her body jolted.

“Steve,” she said again, sharper now, her hips lifting slightly into his mouth as full consciousness started to break through the haze of sleep. “What—God, baby—”

He pulled back just enough to whisper against her, voice rough and reverent. “Good morning.”

Then he dove back in.

This time with purpose.

His hands anchored her hips, holding her still as his tongue worked in slow, steady circles, switching rhythm just when she started to get used to the pattern. He knew her body like it was made for him. And right now, the only thing he cared about in the entire world was dragging pleasure out of her inch by inch until she couldn’t remember her own name—just his.

Y/N moaned helplessly, her fingers still tangled in his hair, back arching off the bed as her thighs began to tremble around his head. Her sleep-heavy body slowly began to wake in full now—guided not by alarm clocks or sunlight but by Steve’s mouth working her open, warm and hungry and relentless.

And fuck, what a way to wake up.

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