#so when i checked in and they were down every time it didn't matter

[kukinkrim]

Hiii💗

I was wondering if you could do headcannons of the Saja boys with a demon s/o that’s a little weirdo? Like maybe she has a very odd hyper fixation like embalming, poisons, spirits, etc. She could be a little eerie looking, still pretty but theirs just something off. Maybe one of the boys hears their fans bashing the reader on her interests or appearance and instantly shut in down publicly?

the tales of five demon boys & their delightfully disturbing lovers

saja boys x gn!demon!reader (separate)

note: they ended up longer than i inteded TT i'm getting used to writing hcs, sorry!

jinu + a spirit-whisperer s/o

when jinu first met you, he was convinced you were possessed. like actually.

demons are evil and weird—he included, of course, he has his own fair share of hobbies. but you were different

you would mutter in latin to the air and say things like “don’t step there—he hates being walked through.”

sometimes you would stop mid-conversation to stare at something in the air and say, “can you not breathe down my neck right now?”

jinu can't see them, which makes it all the more scary.

how can a demon be scared of ghosts? he doesn't know.

but jinu fell inlove still.

and your spirit friends actually, genuinely, liked him.

their approval gives him pride, like he was asking your parents to court you.

jinu thinks your quirks that humans deemed 'weird' were what made you all the more beautiful.

he never found you weird.

not once. not even when you left cups of tea in the hallway and whispered to empty rooms like you were tucking invisible children into bed. if anything, it made the world feel less lonely.

most people said the word ghost with fear in their voices.

you said it like family. and jinu was welcomed into that little family of yours.

jinu had grown used to hearing you talk to the air. to them. like bakunawa, the ancient spirit who refused to sit unless the tea was boiling, steam hissing. or gertrude, an old lady, who hovered around his lover like a protective auntie, brushing your hair when you fell asleep.

sometimes, he’d catch glimpses—just shapes and flickers of movement. but it was your stories that brought them to life.

he'd make you tea and listen. no judgment. he listens and gets to know the spirits you were so fond of.

because in your world—between the living and the dead—you were never alone.

and neither was he. h had grown to love them, too.

but it was only a matter of time before his fans knew of your existence. not that he was hiding you deliberately, but kpop fans were just whole other level of nightmare to control.

he wasn’t even sure how they found you.

regardless, the storm hit fast.

your face was everywhere, and the nickname "spirit freak" was trending.

“they need help.”

“jinu’s dating a that freak??”

“is he being posessed because why them? that's so creepy.”

“someone check his house for ouija boards.”

the worst ones weren't just mocking. they quickly turned violent. threats. doxxing. they managed to catch wind of your cellphone number and blew up your notifications with nonstop threats that made you feel disgusted.

mortals were scarier than ghosts; demons, even.

they didn't faze you, of course. you are a decade older than the rest of this sorry population. you wouldn't stoop so low as to dignify their taunts with any more response—you don't care much.

but jinu cares alot more than you realized.

he didn’t go online. he didn’t tweet, didn’t post, didn’t stream.

everyone thinks it's because he was weighing his options. that, or he finally woke up from this 'nightmare' of a relationship—according to his fans.

but what the public didn't know was that he spent three weeks studying defamation laws, cybercrime statutes, digital harassment ordinances. he skipped meals to do his research thoroughly, leaving no stone unturned.

he compiled every tweet, every handle, every traceable threat; especially those that were sent to your phone.

when the lawsuits dropped, the media exploded

“Multiple Pride Fans Facing Court Action from SAJA BOYS's Jinu’s Legal Team.”

he didn’t post a statement.

he didn’t need to.

his silence did all the talking.

abby + an embalmer s/o

you're a 10/10 but owns 5 vintage embalming kits and a preserved raven in your entryway.

when abby first visited your home it smelled like clove oil and faint formaldehyde.

abby once asked if that was a perfume, only to be surprised of the answer.

the shock wore off quick, though, because he didn't really understand what it really is and what it was for. "what's a floramahehaye?"

abby actually likes your job. he doesn't care about humans so it didn't really faze him when you knew of your occupation and hobbies.

if anything, he would volunteer sometimes when you're studying about human anatomy.

mostly because his abs, his proud and joy, fascinated you so much.

he's very smug about it actually.

as a demon, you spent most of your early existence buried deep within the earth’s crust, surrounded by a screaming fire lord and lava rivers and imps who couldn’t didn't have anything more to do than wallow in despair. you didn’t like hell—everyone doesn't. it was too loud, too hot, too full of shame. but you were used to it.

until you started watching humans.

they were delicate. complicated. tender. they lived fast and rotted faster.

you wanted to understand them.

so, naturally… when you were given the chance to stay on the surface, you took a job where you could open them up and study what they left behind.

embalming was never about death. to you, it was about learning. it was preserving. honoring the shell left behind.

your coworkers thought you were a little off. not that you would blame though. your uncanny precision, your fascination with each organ’s texture, your absolute indifference to that iron smell—but you never let it bother you.

and abby doesn't too.

your first time meeting, you were shamelessly staring and he absolutely drank that attention up.

he was unnaturally pretty. not like “idol pretty,” more like if the concept of youth itself hit the gym. broad shoulders, pretty mouth, lashes long enough to dust a corpse’s cheek, and those godsent, chiseled, mouth-watering abs.

you didn’t mean to fall in love.

and when you once murmured your confession, “i wonder what your heart looks like outside of your ribcage,” he just grinned and said, “kinda sweet. kinda terrifying. i'd give it to you if i could, though.”

he never made you feel like a freak.

so when fans found out who you were. when your job, your calling, became the butt of every joke online—it crushed him.

it started with a leaked photo. you, in your lab coat, smiling serenely as you adjusted a body’s jaw. it was taken out of context and plastered everywhere.

“abby’s lover is a corpse freak???”

“THEY HANDLE DEAD PEOPLE FOR FUN.”

“what happened to dating normal people.”

“wouldn't be surprised if abby's dead one day with an open stomach lolol. what a freak."

the comments weren’t just cruel. they were invasive. some found your workplace and showed up outside, calling you all the names on the book.

you nearly lost your job.

abby didn’t wait for the PR team to draft an apology. apology for what? he wasn't sorry for loving you. he ignored the company meetings taht called to him for damage control.

and three days later, at the next fansign, he arrived wearing a tight white t-shirt.

on the front, in bold red gothic lettering: "EMBALM ME, MOMMY."

and on the below it is a large, flattering photo of your face—taken when you weren’t looking. probably in your embalming room. you had a scalpel in one hand and a slight smile on your lips. you looked beautiful.

mystery + a poison-obsessed s/o

your kitchen looked like a potion lab. bottles of liquid with caution plastered all over them.

your kisses sometimes tasted like bitter almonds or lemon balm.

you have a garden in your backyard solely for growing herbs.

you labeled your garden beds like “mild paralysis” and “emotional support toxicity."

he liked it.

sometimes he’d join you, fingers brushing yours as you crushed petals into paste.

mystery: you drank WHAT?

you, grinning: only a sip. i just wanted to know if it numbed my tongue—turns out, it does!

true to his name, he would sometimes ask you to let him taste some of them too

mystery wasn’t sure when it became normal to wake up to the smell of crushed wolfsbane and jasmine tea.

he just knew that when he saw your apron covered in petal dust and your fingers stained faintly green, it felt like home.

you were strange.

you were a poisoner.

not an assassin—just a curious one. a demon with a flair for toxicology and herbal pharmacology. you’d been alive for centuries and tasted everything from heavenly herbs that made angels cry to the extract of a root so potent it made your vision turn sideways for a week.

he once caught you licking a leaf, then calmly scribbling down symptoms in a leather-bound notebook.

“just tingling this time,” you had mumbled, smiling.

mystery stared at you for ten full seconds before croaking out, "honey, you ingested… all of that?!”

you just blinked, head tilting slightly. "it was for science. science tasted kind of burning though."

he nearly died of a heart attack. not from your herbs—just you being you.

but did he ever stop you? no.

he was mystery, after all. and you? you were every dark thrill he never knew he needed.

you were careful, really. but one photo of your windowsill garden—specifically the belladonna and monkshood—somehow surfaced on a gossip account. then someone dug deeper and found your blog; a poison-for-research journal filled with herb tests, absorption rates, even antidote recipes you’d developed yourself.

the internet of course lost its mind.

some fans began speculating even the smallest things like his energy drinks having odd colors and were convinced you were poisoning him slowly.

#SaveMystery

“that freak is literally feeding him poison!”

“they're a murderer, i swear.”

mystery read them out loud with a deadpan face. "they're not exactly wrong though," he comments as he zooms in on a picture his fans posted of his 'odd drink.' "you put wolfsbane here, right? they're exaggerating though. didn't kill me."

you squinted at the picture he was holding up. "oh that? that's just vitamins.”

mystery blinked. "what?"

you chuckled. "you think i'd feed you something dangerous? you big goof. they're all vitamins. ever wondered why your skin is glowing and you're healthy as a baby?"

"what."

mystery felt betrayed that you didn't poison him like he believed you did. in fact, he's so butthurt about it he decided to rant about it on his live.

in the garden, pretending to be sad as he expressed how he was deeply hurt by his lover's actions, ignoring his angry fans that flooded his comments—all the while you were working in the background with your frilly apron, tending to your garden.

"you're all wrong. they aren't poisoning me. in fact, i found out rhey've been sneaking vitamins and immunity boosters into my food this whole time, and i, frankly, feel betrayed that my glowing skin is natural.”

you peeked from behind him, holding something in your hands.

“this one’s elderberry and magnesium. want it in your smoothie?”

he nodded solemnly. “yes, please.”

the fans had long since stopped trying to protect mystery because he clearly doesn't want it. who whines on live about not being poisoned by their lover?

romance + dollmaker s/o

he met you during a fansign when you showed him a picture of your next doll project: the saja boys.

creepy button eyes and sewn mouths, unfinished, but still creepy

thought it was a prank.

realized it wasn’t and said, “nice detail on the jawline.”

perhaps the mini doll of himself that you made was cursed, but it hangs on his bags permanently.

the thing actually purred and he was elated.

he brags about it to his members.

romance had always been used to fans doing bold things. letters written in blood (food coloring, hopefully) life-size cardboard cutouts of him left at hotel lobbies, one girl even proposed with a ring pop.

but nothing—and he means nothing—could’ve prepared him for you.

you arrived at the fansign table dressed sweetly enough, nothing out of the ordinary. fans likes dressing uo for these occassions, it wasn't anythinf new. but what you placed in front of him had romance.exe malfunctioning.

it was a doll. a creepy, uncanny-valley doll. big head, button eyes, sewn lips, and somehow… his exact jawline...?

“is this… me?” romance asked, blinking, and you nodded, excited. “yes! and here’s the rest of your group, but j spent the most time on you. i even added your tattoos!”

at first, he thought it was a prank. maybe, there was joke he missed.

but then you pulled out stitching diagrams. color palettes. handmade clothes. and you started yapping and you just looked so passionatr about it that he couldn't even bring himself to say anything bad.

he eyes the doll, fiddling with its hair. it was very real. and kind of creepy, he swore it would start walking if left in a room alone. but also… he's shockingly flattering?

“i look nice here, actually,” he said, grinning. “perfectly captured my jawline.”

romance hadn’t stopped thinking about you. the dolls were weird—but you weren’t. besides, anyone who paid that much attention to his features? yeah. he doesn't mind one bit.

you were dating quietly, secretly. he loved visiting your apartment—shelves lined with little haunting faces, half-stitched limbs, eyes in jars waiting for placement. dors he find it creepy? absolutely. but your focus, your joy, your pride in every weird little creation?

he loved that even more.

you once handed him a tiny version of himself. a keychain doll. “for luck,” you said. and he has it always, ALWAYS, hanging on his bags. he swore the mini-romance purred when it sat beside the mini-version of you on his nightstand.

if it was a curse, he’d never felt more lucky.

one day, during a casual vlog in his apartment, fans noticed something in the background.

two dolls.

not just any dolls. your dolls, but they didn't know that yet. it was very clearly a couple's item. one of him and one of… someone else. a striking resemblance to a photo they'd seen from an obscure art account.

the internet did its thing.

within hours, fans had connected the dots. your etsy store. your blog with antique doll restorations. they even managed to dig up the blurry photos of you behind him on some vlogs he had carelessly posted.

“that freak collection is dating romance???”

“THEY PUT HIS SOUL IN A DOLL, GUYS.”

“those dolls probably blink at night.”

“they're gonna curse the whole group. watch.”

the hate was immediate and brutal. they called you everything from creep to witch.

the hate had been building for days. rumors of your “witchcraft,” the conspiracy threads claiming you’d stolen romance’s soul and trapped it inside a life-sized doll made of bone dust and silk; they flooded comment sections with hex emojis. fans even speculated you had a whole graveyard in your apartment.

romance merely lets them bark. he let them foam.

and then he announced a solo comeback.

no teaser. no album name. just a picture of his new merch on his account.

on a worn velvet armchair sat the doll. rhe very first one you made. slumped slightly, hands on its lap. it stared directly at the camera.

the photo captures every detail of the doll that he called mini-romance. on his heart was an embroidery of your name in red thread.

"she made me with her hands. now you can hold a piece of me too. preorders now open."

baby + an s/o that loves haunted artifacts

this one? wasn't fazed in the slightest.

he actually liked accompanying you to go store hopping, even if most of the stores you visited were eerie.

he hels you arrange them sometimes.

he would even help you with installing shelves for your little trinkets.

he once caught the porcelain hand on your desk waving at him and he waved back.

baby’s been many things in life. a demon, idol, walking disaster with a voice like sin—uh... that's kinda it, to be honest. but scared? never.

so when he started dating you, the only real shock wasn’t your hobby… it was how into it he got.

your apartment looked like the aftermath of a haunted estate sale—crucifixes, ouija boards sealed in glass cases, dolls missing one eye but “don’t worry, she sees just fine,” and shelves of jars with things inside he doesn't to ask about.

your prized possession? a cracked music box from the 1800s that played by itself at 3 a.m. every third thursday.

“it’s a spiritual warning,” you explained sweetly.

he blinked, shrugging his shoulders as he holds the music box carefully. “well, the melody kinda slaps. mind if i sample it for our next song?"

baby genuinely loved your weirdness.

you’d get excited explaining where your “possessed” trinkets came from, describing the terrifying rumors around each one. he’d nod along, snack in hand, letting you ramble for hours like you were narrating a true crime doc he was deeply invested in.

“this mirror’s from an asylum that burned down.”

“dope.”

“if you stare into it too long, you see your past life.”

“bet mine was hot too.”

baby was actually one of the members who was pretty open about your relationship, which is no wonder why everyonr had been questioning his sanity the moment they first discovered your love for weird and creepy things.

at first, he ignored it. it didn't matter what the public said anyway, he didn't care about them. it didn't seem like you cared either.

“is baby okay?? that room is CURSED.”

“i swear i heard someone singing inside the bathroom.”

“his lover is a witch. or a demon. or both.”

“SOMEONE GET HIM OUT OF THERE.”

but a particular request from you made him sigh. you asked, innocently, so gently, if you could show his fans your trinkets so they wouldn't be so scared.

so, thats why he found himself setting up in the middle of your living room.

the live started with a low hum.

not from the camera, but from the background. something in a jar on that third shelf was vibrating. which is something that happens everyday. the chat doesn't know that though and they were going absolutely nuts.

omg is that the haunted jar?? WHAT IS THAT NOISE who let baby go live unsupervised again IS THAT A DOLL IN THE BACK why is it BLINKING

then baby appeared onscreen—grinning, holding his phone like a microphone. he waved lazily. “sup.”

behind him, your famously haunted living room was in full display. crucifixes, preserved bones, jars that kept rocking about, and many more things that the chat didn't want to see.

he stepped back, then gestured off-camera. “okay, listen up. i brought someone.”

you stepped into view, sheepishly waving at the camera.

baby leaned into the frame again, eyes narrowed in a glare. "they're going to show off their favorite artifacts and your only job is to clap and say good things. you're going to play nice, got it?”

then he retreated to the back, letting you have the spotlight while he crossed his arms, glarimg from behind you.

“okay, babe. show ‘em your favorites. i'll be back here, not getting possessed. probably.”

you brightened.

“okay! first—this is tobias, my favorite mirror.”

[usertala]

my bank account is your bank account

synopsis: you didn't use his card to pay

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Zayne

He worked hard to be a cardiac surgeon just to treat your heart condition—what makes you think his money is where he draws the line? He’d just finished his second surgery today, a CABG that took 6 hours, and the first thing he sees on his phone is a text message from you.

“Hey, Zayne. Do you prefer spicy or not spicy soup? I’m at the store to buy the ingredients!”

He smiles, already imagining you waiting for him while cooking.

He replies, “Spicy is fine, I placed my card on the back of your phone. Be safe.”

Just as he placed the phone down, it beeps again from your text.

“It’s fine, I bought my card with me. And it’s just groceries, I can handle it.”

His brow furrows as he noisily types to call your phone, “I gave it to you with the intention that you’ll use it whenever you need. It doesn’t matter if it’s just groceri—”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll use it, alright? Since you insist, I’m buying these expensive lotions I’d been eyeing on.”

He sighs, “If you’re gonna buy those lotions, the least you can do is buy me those hard candy, that blueberry cheesecake we always buy, and those lollipo—”

“I’m getting you ONE pack of candies.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Caleb

This man would be crashing out if he can’t provide for you. He even gets upset when you don’t need his help in getting things from the top shelf. Here he was with a smug smile on his face while handing you his card,

“Use it whenever you need to, pips. Rest assured it won’t ever maxed out.”

That smirk was so irritating that you wanted to wipe it off his face.

“Mhm? Why do I need to? I get payed just fine! And it’s not like other people don’t pay for me.”

“Huh?”

God, that dumbfounded look was just so satisfying to see. Of course, with Caleb paying for whatever you need almost all his life, you weren’t gonna turn down his offer.

He flicks your forehead, “You don’t even need other people’s money. And they don’t treat you always! Just use mine and you can use it endlessly.”

He’s looking at you with his signature puppy eyes and you know you just lost.

Sighing, you take his card, “Fine, and I better not hear any complaints from you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Sylus

You knew this man doesn’t care even if you spent billions of his money—he literally let you spend more than 10 million a few days after you met. It’s not like you had a problem with spending his money (you don’t); it’s just nice to tease him every now and then, even if it backfires on you most of the time.

You were in the middle of a date when you decided to mess with him.

“Sy, does it taste good?”

He hums, “It tastes quite nice. You always pick the right places, sweetie.”

You smile, “Of course! Since I’m paying, it should be worth it.”

He freezes mid-bite and places his spoon down, “Are you now? If I may say, the soup was quite salty, the pasta lacked flavor, and the tiramisu was just an abomination.”

You smack his arm, “Hey! You said it was nice!”

He smirks, “I’ll pay for it, sweetie, since it wasn’t worth it,” already reaching for his wallet.

Why do you even try?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Rafayel

“Baby, do you think this looks nice?” You gave your phone to Rafayel so he can see the sweater that you wanted. He shrugs, “It’s cute, perfect for rainy days.” You smile, proceeding to check out the sweater, “It’s 115 dollars, it’ll be delivered by next week!” He slowly turns his head, “Next week?" “Yeah!”

He slowly walks toward you and grabs you by the shoulders, “Cutie, did you already pay for it?”

You nod, “Yeah, why? Did you want one too?”

His shoulders slumped as he dramatically flings his arm around, “What?! Since when did you pay for your things? I’m transferring that money to your card.”

You lightly punch his shoulder, “Ayel! There’s no need, I have my own money.”

He raises his eyebrow, “And? I’m still wiring you that money.”

You try to argue, but he’s already tip-tapping away on his phone.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Xavier

“Xavi, what do you want for dinner?” You climbed on the couch and laid on his lap while fumbling on your phone. He shrugs, “Anything is fine.” You poke his cheek, “I’m too lazy to cook, do you want takeout?” He ponders for a moment, “Takeout is fine, I can cook too.” He says, already standing up to head to the kitchen when you quickly sit up, “Takeout it is!”

“How much is it?” He grabs your hand to play with the sleeves of your sweater. “It’s fine, I already payed for it!” His hand stops, and he slowly looks at you. His brows furrow and his lips form into a pout, without saying anything, he smooshes your face in his hands. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Xavi?”

He smiles. “Don’t do that again."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[dissociativewriter]

Headcanons about making the guys watch the Disney movie we associate with them?

Z = Frozen; X & S = Sleeping Beauty; R = The Little Mermaid; C = Snow White

this is so cute omg. i rewatched all of these when writing this (for research!) and it was very nice. this is very fluffy, i needed to write some lol I've been writing some very mean angst lately.

spoilers ahead and some references to their myths!

❀ It was your turn to pick the movie for you and Xavier's regular Saturday movie night. When you picked Sleeping Beauty, he furrowed his brow. "A Disney movie?" "I think it will be fun!"

❀ Xavier was silent through most of it, content to simply enjoy the movie with you. He would interrupt to offer you popcorn or to refill your drink. "She's a little scary," he whispered when Maleficent appeared.

❀ You caught him dozing off a few times, but Xavier always jolted awake when you nudged him. "I'm up!" "Were you falling asleep again?" "I was just resting my eyes." He did actually fall asleep when the kingdom was put to sleep alongside Aurora.

❀ As the credits rolled, you told him, "This movie reminds me of you." "...because I remind you of the prince, right?" His ears turned a faint pink when you explained you connected him more to Aurora. "So… I'm a princess in your eyes?" "A very pretty princess!"

❀ When you tell Zayne you want to watch Frozen with him, he’s… hesitant, to say the least. “Isn’t that a children’s movie?” He still watches it with you, though, no complaints.

❀ “I understand they’re worried she might harm someone, but locking her away isn’t good for her development,” he says matter-of-factly. He’s very respectful during the movie, though, not saying much. That is, until Hans’ betrayal. “That’s just not right,” he mutters. “What a scoundrel.”

❀ When you tell Zayne he reminds you of Elsa, he just stares at you blankly. After a moment, he quietly responds, “I hope you don’t plan on getting me gloves.” When the movie ends, he gives you a chaste kiss on the check. “If I truly am Elsa, then you’ve thawed this frozen heart.”

❀ For a few days after you watched the movie, Zayne finds himself quietly humming Let It Go. Occasionally Love is an Open Door. He’s alright with that one. He’s extremely annoyed with himself when it’s Let It Go.

❀ Rafayel will gladly watch any movie with you, but best believe he’s judging The Little Mermaid. Heavily. "Giving up your voice is sooooo unromantic," he groaned. "At least give your lover your heart." "What, like you just rip it out of your chest and offer it to your lover?" You laughed. Rafayel didn't.

❀ "Yes," he said very seriously. "Let my blood spill down your wrist as you feel how my heart beats only for you. Let my blood stain your lips the perfect shade of red so that every time you see your reflection, you cannot escape my endless devotion to you."

❀ You try to scoot away from Rafayel after that but he keeps you pulled close against him. He cries during the wedding scene but vehemently denies it afterward. "I'm just really happy they could finally be together! They're from two different worlds!"

❀ Rafayel sings the entirety of the sound track for at least a week. It’s pretty at first but after the tenth time (that day) of hearing, “What do they got, a lot of sand? We got a HOT crustacean band!” you’re throwing tomatoes.

❀ Sylus is always willing to do whatever you want, so when you asked him to watch Sleeping Beauty with you, he didn't object. He just settled you in his home theater with fluffy blankets, snacks, and an arm around your shoulders.

❀ When Maleficent comes on screen, he's already making commentary. "Cursing a baby to die because you didn't get invited to a party seems a bit excessive. And these gifts the fairies have given aren't useful at all."

❀ He’s judging you heavily when you start implying he's similar to Maleficent. "Doesn't her bird remind you of Mephisto?" "So I remind you of a villain?" "..but a really pretty one. I think you'd look very handsome with horns." "Hm."

❀ Sylus looks extremely unimpressed by the time Maleficent turns into a dragon. "...interesting design," he mutters. "See, there's another thing! You remind me of a dragon." Sylus met your wide smile with a raised eyebrow. "Really, sweetie?" "Sure! You're really warm, protective, you hoard things..." Sylus chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You have an overactive imagination."

❀ When you tell Caleb you want to watch Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, he's immediately agreeing. "Whatever you want, pips," he says. "But... didn’t this used to scare you when we were kids?"

❀ It’s not like this is his first time watching it. Caleb's watched a lot of princess movies with you since you grew up together. But, that doesn't stop him from making commentary. "I can't believe she just moves into some random men's home without asking. Promise me you'll never do that, pip-squeak."

❀ Caleb's confused when you tell him he reminds you of Snow White. "I remind you of that little princess?" he asked incredulously. "Sure," you shrugged. "You're a mother hen like she is. You cook, you clean, you're easily tempted by apples." "I'm not making you apple pie anymore," he pouts (he’s lying).

❀ When the poisoned apple comes around, he's desperately defending himself. "I cannot seriously remind you of her. I would not fall for that." You shrugged again. "I just call 'em as I see 'em." He's quiet for a few minutes. "Maybe the sleeping death is a good idea, " he says. "Then you'd be all mine." You stare at him. "Remind me to never eat any apple you give me."

I saw this art on Pinterest and thought it was so damn cute 😭 it wasn’t credited though so if you know whose it is please let me know so I can credit it!

comments and reblogs appreciated and asks open! <3

masterlist

@dolledbunnytail @sleepykittyenergy @orbitraiden @coffeedragonhobbyist @plzdonutpercieveme @sylusgworl

[transsongtaewon]

"It's down, we're done""

Peace stretched, shaking shaking off the worst of the grime. There was still blood stuck in his coat, making it clump unconfortably and he could have burned it off. But Peace would tolerate it for a bit longer.

One of the humans stepped closer to him, the one all the hurt ones flocked around after fights. Peace thought it was fairly obvious that he wasn't hurt, but humans were often slower on the uptake. Still, he didn't want to be touched by this stranger so he just growled, fur rising. He wouldn't actually attack, probably. Dad would get stressed.

Luckily, the human backed away. Peace thought their face was trying to look calm, but the smell of sweat crawling up his nose said differently. Good. Peace was grown and much stronger than the humans here.

They seemed to understand instinctively, staying away from him while they hiked back towards the portal.

Peace walked quickly. He enjoyed the dungeons, the opportunity to tear into weaker beings and become stronger, finally able to be his true self... but he also liked returning home at the end. No matter how much fun he had inside a dungeon, there was almost always something very important missing. His dad wasn't there.

And even when dad went with him, Peace would not allow himself to relax. Dad was fragile and had to be protected. As a filial child, Peace would take on this duty without hesitation.

Passing through the portal made his fur stay on end every time. It was the second worst part of travelling, the worst was the horrible air outside the dugeons. Cars were certainly useful if you were slow and quickly exhausted, but only if you couldn't smell the fumes the way Peace did.

But there was an upside to his keen senses. He could tell without even looking that dad was waiting for him just outside.

Knowing this took priority over anything else and he did not bother to humor the humans trying to see if he would start attacking (as though he'd ever lose control like that) before shrinking down and slipping between various legs.

Dad spotted him immediately, very possibly because Peace was causing a commotion. He may get scolded for that later. He did not care overly much, since it meant dad had his arms open for Peace to jump into.

He purred a greeting that dad returned but didn't understand and stuffed his nose into his dad's shirt.

"I missed you too, Peace-yah. Did you have fun?"

Peace said yes, but that the other humans kept bothering him, and Yoojin told him about all the meals he'd had while Peace was gone.

He took one of Peace's paws in his hand, critically examining the pawpad. Dad really liked pressing on it for some reason. "Are you sure you didn't get hurt? You're all covered in dirt, we'll have to bathe you when we get home."

Peace whined and tried to bury his face even deeper. It was childish of him, but dad would never scold him. He even thought it was cute when Peace acted like this. Sometimes, it meant that he paid more attention to Peace than his other kids.

"I know, I know, bathing is horrible. But our Peace is very brave and will manage just fine." Yoojin kept his hand buried in Peace's fur the whole car ride back. It was the only thing that made the ordeal even remotely worth it.

Even water was worth if it dad was there with him. Peace did not need help to clean himself, he had his flames. But it was nice of dad to make an effort with his hands, digging deep into Peaces fur and scratching him until his bones felt all soft and lose. It even helped get rid of his lose fur. So the older child was definitely lying when he claimed Peace didn't need the baths at all.

His favourite part, however came after all the fuss of leaving the dungeon and being checked over and bathed. It was when after all of that, his dad carried him over to the living room, still swaddling Peace in his towel like he was a human baby. Peace growled half-heartedly and then couldn't help but purr when Yoojin booped his nose.

"You've worked hard, haven't you, our Peace? You are the strongest and smartest monster I have ever met." Dad thought for a second, still petting Peace. "Just don't tell Blue."

Blue obviously wasn't very smart because she didn't stick with dad the way Peace did. It was the only rational decision any creature could make. Peace very kindly explained all this to his dad, who did not understand a single thing.

Peace forgave him only because Yoojin stretched out on the sofa and let Peace make himself comfortable on his stomach. Since this was the first time in quite a bit that he and dad were cuddling like this, Peace took his time to find the perfect position and only settled down after he had turned around himself a couple of times.

Dad grumbled a little, "now I'm all covered in fur again, thanks." But he made no move to dislodge Peace. He probably wouldn't be made to move until dad had to go to the bathroom or it was time for dinner. With a bit of luck, he'd fall asleep on the sofa and the other kids wouldn't dare disturb their peace.

And even if they did, Peace thought as he settled his head on his paws, Peace was allowed to sleep on dad's bed with him, so he wouldn't be annoyed for long.

His pur matched the rhythm of dad's fingers in his fur as he settled down for a nap.

Written for Sctir Pride Week day 6: Comfort/Rest

[redandgreyscale]

Could we have more of rosekiller arguing/having issues with bipolar Barty's meds? I need angst <3

Here you have some angst hope you cry about it <3

Evan is aware a manic or depressive episode can happen even if Barty's taking his meds. It has happened before, that is not new, but he also knows not taking them will immediately trigger one. So now he feels this is his fault.

He hasn't been making sure Barty takes it, not so thoroughly as he would've months ago, because they got better at this, Barty was taking his meds every single day with Evan looking, almost forcing him to swallow the pill the days he didn't think it was necessary. It has been an ugly process, Barty has told him he hates him more times than he can count, and Evan has cried about it more times than Barty has been able to apologize for.

Now, Evan has been giving him a bit more room with the matter. He still looks at the pill container to count them but it doesn't matter if he doesn't see Barty take it, they've built trust.

That is exactly why he doesn't see it coming.

"He's what!?" Evan isn't intending to scream, he doesn't usually scream, at least tries not to.

"I saw him this morning, I'm sure he was throwing the pill down the drain" Regulus explains as distressed as he feels. Fuckfuckfuck. "Do you think this is the first day he's done it?"

And Evan, oh he's been naive. He's been dumb.

"I don't know" Regulus' brows shoot up.

"Didn't you say you were keeping track of it?"

"Yeah, but I—" Evan stops. What is he going to say? I trusted him? He can't trust Barty, not with this. Because even if Barty is trying his hardest to do things right, he can't fully control this. How stupid. "I'll talk to him"

He doesn't see Barty until past curfew, when the boy finally sneaks back to the dorm with a mischievous smile. Oh Evan doesn't like what he's about to do.

"So, how long have you been throwing away your medication?" He asks without warning the moment the light flicks on. He's so, so tired of this.

He's also very aware this is not the best way to deal with it, but they're going to fight about it one way or another so better have it done as soon as possible.

Barty's smile fades the moment the question's out.

"I am not doing that, you have checked, right? I'm taking it" he's a good liar, remaining calm for now, and Evan would believe him in any other situation.

"Regulus saw you" he deadpans, the mentioned boy stirs on his bed and sits up, now in the discussion too. Barty's face does something horrible, going through too many emotions all at once only to lay on the one he always does. Anger.

"You fucking prick!" it takes two long strides to get to Regulus, who looks completely unsurprised by this, he's been doing it longer than Evan anyway "You're making up things now? You don't know what you saw, you didn't see anything!"

"Barty!" Evan calls at him the moment he grabs Regulus' shirt. He turns around to look at him, a wild animal ready to bite "you're talking to me, leave him alone" and surprisingly enough Barty does, not without shoving him down to the bed again. "When did you stop taking it? And don't lie to me"

Evan stands too and walks to him, meeting in the middle of the room. "I don't need it!" Barty pushes him back, so Evan takes a step back.

"When?" He asks again, not backing down on this.

"Why do you have to control everything I do? Leave me alone!" And lastly, it comes down to the same it always does.

"I won't leave you, I care for you" Evan tries, his voice softer now.

"You're controlling me, stop trying to control me, stop" Barty's taking steps back, one, two, three, hands tugging at his own hair, looking frantically around him. Evan follows each step until he's backed on the door.

"I am trying to take care of you"

"I hate you" Barty lowers himself to the floor, he's not looking at Evan and he's for sure hurting his scalp by how hard he's tugging at hair. Evan's hands come to his.

"I love you"

It takes a while, Barty has a full on breakdown. They don't sleep for the whole night, and the next day he sleeps through all of it. Eventually it's a team effort getting him to agree to take his meds again, and the trust they built is broken again, so Evan makes sure he's actually doing it for that full week. At least it's less violent the next one.

[the-physicality]

how it feels to go 2/2 on my work march madness brackets

[burinazar]

It's a bit funny that to parts of my circles I'm 'the fandom one'/'the fanfic one'/'the shipping one' as the person they know most prominently into such things

because as much as i love writing my fics and shipping my ships my interest in both of those things is, I think, very narrow and specific compared to most people who are into them? due to my habits being like. very particular

[complainblogforthevoid]

I've finally figured out an argument that convinces coding tech-bros that AI art is bad.

Got into a discussion today (actually a discussion, we were both very reasonable and calm even through I felt like committing violence) with a tech-bro-coded lady who claimed that people use AI in coding all the time so she didn't see why it mattered if people used AI in art.

Obviously I repressed the surge of violence because that would accomplish nothing. Plus, this lady is very articulate, the type who makes claims and you sit there thinking no that's wrong it must be but she said it so well you're kind of just waffling going but, no, wait-- so I knew I had to get this right if I was gonna come out of this unscathed.

The usual arguments about it being about the soul of it and creation fell flat, in fact she was adamant that anyone who believed that was in fact looking down at coding as an art form as she insisted it is. Which, sure, you can totally express yourself through coding. There's a lot more nuance as to the differences but clearly I was not going to win this one.

The other people I was with (literally 8 people anti-ai against her, but you can't change the mind of someone who doesn't want to listen and she just kept accusing us of devaluing coding as an art) took over for I kid you not 15 minutes while I tried desperately to come up with a clear and articulate way to explain the difference to her. They tried so many reasonable arguments, coding being for a function ("what, art doesn't serve a function?") coding being many discrete building blocks that you put together differently, and the AI simply provides the blocks and you put it together yourself ("isn't that what prompt building is") that it's bad for the environment ("but not if it's used for capitalism, hm?" "Yeah literally that's how capitalism works it doesn't care about the environment" she didn't like that response)

But I finally got it.

And the answer is: It's not about what you do, it's about what you claim to be.

Imagine that someone asks an AI to write a code and, by some miracle, it works perfectly without them having to tweak it---which is great because they couldn't tell you what a single solitary thing in that code means.

Now imagine this person, with their code that they don't know how it works, goes and applies to be a coder somewhere, presenting this AI code as proof that they're qualified.

Should they be hired?

She was horrified, of course. Of course they shouldn't be. They're not qualified. They can't actually code, and even if by some miracle they did have an AI successfully write a flawless code for every issue they came across that wouldn't be their code, you could hire any shmuck on the street to do that, no reason to pay someone like they're creating something.

When actual engineers use AI what they do is get some kind of base, which they then go though and check for problems and then if they find any they fix them, and add on to the base code with their own knowledge instead of just trying different prompt after prompt until they randomly come across one that works.

People who generate code like this don't usually call themselves engineers. They're people who needed a bit of code and didn't have the knowledge to generate it, and so used a resource.

And there you go. There are people who have none of the skills of artists, they don't practice, they don't create for themselves. When they feed the prompt to the AI they then don't just use the resulting image as a reference point for their own personal masterpiece, and if they don't like it they don't have the skills to change it---they simply try another prompt, and do that until they get something they like.

These people are calling themselves artists.

Not only that, these people are bringing the AI generated thing to interviews, and they are getting hired, leaving people who slave over their craft out of the job.

And that is the difference, for the tech bros who think AI art isn't a big deal.

[coichii]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ── skz + protective tendencies

—(🎧)—> straykids and their protective tendencies.

pairing - OT8 SKZ (seperate) ♥︎ fem!reader

genre - fluff

word count - 0.8k

warnings - talks about being hit on, allergies, food issues, and online bullying.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ── [방찬] bang chan

wants your location shared. okay, chan isn't someone who forces you to share your location with them; he didn't even ask for you to do so. but deep down, he wanted you to so he could know you were safe. when you did share it to him one random tuesday night, butterflies erupted in his stomach like they never have before. he doesn't check it too often, but whenever you're running a little late for a date or out when it's too dark for his liking, he does give it a little peek to make sure the love of his life is safe.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ── [민호] minho

makes you walk on the right side of the road. this started off the moment you two even became friends. whenever you were to walk with him whether that be to your apartment or to the studio, whenever you would walk on a busy road, he would grab your wrist gently and swoop you to the side. before you dated, he always claimed it was because “you’re clumsy and I don’t want you to die, I guess.” but after you started dating and you began to see his cute and loving side, you saw right through this adorable habit.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ── [창빈] changbin

makes sure you eat 3 meals a day. changbin always promoted health and wellness to everyone, but especially you. part of that promotion was sending you texts every single day reminding you to eat well if he couldn’t be there to tell you to your face. it didn’t matter if you had just gotten in an argument and weren’t speaking, he never forgot to remind you to take care of yourself. he knows what can happen if someone doesn’t take care of their health by eating good and nutritious food, so there’s no way he wouldn’t make sure the person he loves the most is eating well.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ── [현진] hyunjin

holds your hand tighter in public settings. hyunjin always got very protective of you whenever you were in a public or crowded space. listen, he doesn’t want anything to happen to his baby, and the public is the perfect place for that to happen. to prevent that, he always seems to grip your hand tighter whenever you were out and about with him. sometimes, it didn’t even matter if it was a public area, but your body always seemed to be closer to him during these times. (and there is no way you would ever complain about that).

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ── [지성] jisung

stands up for you against anyone, anywhere. nope, it does not matter to this man that he’s 5’7 and the guy being pushy fliting with you is 6’1, you’re his baby and there’s no way in hell he will ever let you be uncomfortable and not do anything about it. han is always known as the funny, goofy guy but that person is gone the moment anyone fucks with you. standing in that person's place is someone who’s willing to get psychical if things escalate, placing a motherly like arm infront of your body as he stares down the man making you uneasy.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ── [펠릭스] felix

wanted you to learn self-defense with him. we all know that felix is a god a taekwondo, so when he wanted you to take classes with him, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. however, when you learned the reason behind this was the fact that he was really worried about you and wanted to know that you could protect yourself if you were in danger, you were pretty taken back. you giggled as he sheepishly explained the reason behind it, giving his pink cheeks a tender kiss and taking his offer up. he supported you through and through, practicing with you in private when you had time. now whenever you go out, he never has to worry about his pretty baby getting hurt.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ── [승민] seungmin

really doesn’t want you on twitter. there’s nothing seungmin can do to make you not go on twitter, you are your own person after all. however, he definitely advised you don’t after you two announced your relationship to the public. there were countless amounts of people who supported your relationship, but of course there were the sour few who spewed nasty things about you behind a username and a profile picture. seungmin scrolled through those, stomach uneasy as he read all the mean things that people said about the person he loves the most. he advised you to never see this, telling you that he just wants to protect you. sighed a sigh of relief once you agreed, and deelted the app for good.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ── [정인] jeongin

monitors your allergies more than you monitor you own. unlocked this one time when he accidentally cooked something with your allergy and caused you to have a negative reaction. felt so guilty that he cried while holding you later that night, apologizing profusely after you had already gotten over it and said it was your fault for not telling him your allergy. ever since then, he monitors them strictly and checks every ingredient he cooks with plenty. checks the menus of restaurants before booking reservations, telling the waiter about your allergies in case you forget. never wants a repeat of that night again.

[dragonsoulage]

When they are drunk on it -

feat. Neji Hyuga, Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki, Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha

Here we have some handsome shinobi men, all of them addicted and can’t help themselves when they feel you around them in the best way possible. Pūssy drunk might be the words what describes them when they have you in their hands.

Hello world, it’s me being back, this time with more of a thirst like thing here. I picked out 5 of our beloved men and decided to write some smutty smut ✨🌚 so I hope you enjoy 🤌🏻🤌🏻

Wordcount: 4,7k

Warnings: Sm*t, p in v, pūssy drunk men, praising, sometimes a little degrading

MDNI

Neji Hyuga ~ Got him surprisingly hooked…

„Keep moving, baby." you heard him and hell was he whipped. You were his precious girl on top of him. Dragging your cute pussy up and down his shaft. These cute pants because you draw out of breath. His right hand glued to your hip. His gaze solemnly locked onto your face. Sometimes dropping watching how enticingly your gorgeous tits bounced for him.

„I... I can't baby. My legs..." you stuttered, but your cute reply followed by a sweet moan. And then you could listen to a snicker of him. Neji never just snickered or grinned, just like he did now. Every time he fucked you, he was a little rough because he knew you liked it. But after that training today, you offered to ride him. Little did you know he enjoyed it so much that it had been hours now. He stuffed your puffy pussy full of his cum. Enjoying how it dribbled out of you. Every few moments, he dragged his thumb down your slit. How your pussy tried to take his dick. The little shudder you did when he wiped over your soaping wet clit.

But now, he was drunk on that pussy. He couldn't stop, nor did he want to stop. No matter how composed Neji truly was when it was about you, especially now you were being on top of him. He can't deny that he loved watching you like this. The feel of your little cunt squeezing him, and fluttered when he dragged the curve of his dick right to the spot where you needed it.

When he grabbed your hips just to slam you down a little more. Just to listen how your wet pussy would be squelching around him. To watch how a creamy ring formed around his base.  

Neji usually never the one who talked much. Indeed, he tried to keep his noises in check. No matter how hot you think he was, he always thought he wouldn't deserve a girlfriend like you. And then have her so pretty spread out for him. Sometimes when you were lucky he praised you and calling you „a good girl" before he smacked your ass, just how he knew you liked it.

But right now? The groan he let out, the way his head fell in the pillows. You tried to keep up with his stamina, a cute try, but you couldn't. Legs and thighs already shaking. Your pussy still so sloppy from all the cumming.

„I said keep moving. Want this pretty pussy to cum again." he said, he just noticed how wet you seemed to get when he talked to you like this. Grabbing a good chunk of your ass when he leaned forward now.

„I need her to cum again, feels so good when she is....ah, trying to milk every last bit." his jaw clenched slightly. You felt so good being wrapped around him. So warm and soft and so fucking wet. You felt how he ground you against him. Your clit rubbing against his pelvis, making your hands lay on his chest. As you tried to steady yourself.

„Her?" you asked, a little blush on your cheeks, and not just because his thick cock was inside you. He didn't want you to stop. To satisfied with the way you bounced on top of him. Too mesmerized how your sweet pussy was taking every mean inch of him. Every drag he made you do on his dick was just getting meaner. But damn he was pussy drunk. „Yes, this sweet pussy of yours."

Usually when his sweet girl couldn't take it any longer, he was a gentleman, flipping you over to pound into you in the best way possible. But not today. Not when he had his girl so sloppy on top of him.

"Such a messy girl, you are. So sloppy and wet." he stated with a husky tone, god he was gone. He felt too good right now.

„Please, Neji." *you added, but he just grabbed your waist, giving you a hold before he made you slam down his dick over and over again. His hips bucking up into your welcoming heat.

And then you heard him groan, his lavender eyes rolling back, pretty lips parted slightly.

„Feels too good, your pussy feels too good." he said, his voice strained with the effort to not just whine, but the feeling how your walls grabbing him was too good, so he failed.

„Sooo tight." he added, and you heard a gasp from his throat. Yourself being busy with moaning. Already felt the next orgasm approaching....aware this wouldn't be the end of this. He would fuck you long enough until you would being sore the next morning. 

Shikamaru Nara ~ Taking his sweet time…

Shikamaru was a man, when he was pussy drunk he wouldn't just rut into you because it felt so good. He was a man who appreciated every little move your cute pussy made. Savoring the feeling, so sensual, it had you being impatient and needy.

Thighs spread as he grabbed with both hands the back of them, spreading them just a little more apart. A low groan was coming out of his mouth. Eyes locked with your pussy and how pretty your petals part for him, as he sunk into you, so slow. Every inch, slowly inserting to let you feel every curve and vein of him. Your lips shaped in a pretty ‚o' hoping he would finally fuck you how you needed it. Because this was like the nth time, he just slowly pushed inside you to pull out completely and doing it all over again. And this time not just for teasing no, he enjoyed your cunt to the fullest, the way it fit so snugly around him.

„Shikaaaa." you pouted and this was then the only time he took his dark eyes away from your pussy. A hand coming to lay on your cheek, thumb gazing your bottom lip.

„Stop pouting, let me savor this...perfect pussy." he said to you, already aware how needy you were. Alone the way your juices flowed out, the way you clenched around his tip when he pushed into you so damn slowly.

„Can't a man enjoy his girl's pussy, hm?" his breath tickled your ear when he leaned down. And then with a little harder thrust making you moan. He was mean.

„You do this for hours. I need you, why you are so mean." you spoke, but it was followed by a small gasp when his other hand came to drag a thumb over your clit, making your eyes close shortly.

„Is it my fault when someone got a cunt that is squeezing me in the most delicious way?" he asked, making you tremble when his thumb circled your clit over and over again so slow. You felt his fat cock pulsing inside you. As you tried to drag down your pussy just a little more. „It's just so addicting, sweetheart. You can't blame me, can you?" he purred before you finally felt that he was starting to move. Still a slow and sensual pace. Shikamaru nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck before you heard that deep groan in your ear, that made you so fucking wet. He sounded so sexy when he was enjoying you to his fullest.

Your fingers went to his hair, gently tugging on the strands that still were bound in his signature ponytail. You felt every vein on his shaft, and slowly he gave in to it, you what you craved so much. Your boyfriend stopped fucking you so lazy after he savored every little clench and flutter of your tight wet heat.

„Feels already better." you sighted cute, and he started to pick up more pace. Licking over your salty, sweet skin on your neck. Hands laying on your hips before he dragged his shaft all the way in just to bottom out and slam into you.

„God, Shika." you whined already. It was always like this, complaining when he teased you too much but whining when he finally started fucking you. Really fucking you. You were even better than watching clouds. Watching how your pretty tits bounced when he slammed into you was a sight to behold for him.

The way your heated skin clung to his. Or when you threw your arms over his shoulders. This was the moment he got so lost in your perfect little cunt.

„Fuck...look at that always so greedy and needy and when I give in you start whining." he murmured with a growl nipping on the sensitive skin behind your ear making you shudder. Then he decided to get a little up, grabbing your hips just a little tighter. Before he gave into the feeling of your heavenly cunt and started pounding. Head fell in the back of his neck. Exposing his adam apple that bobbed when he swallowed thickly because only you and your pretty little pussy could make him feel like this.

You were just shortly able to take in this sight. The way his body looked so good covered in a little sweat from the hours he just wanted to feel you wrapped around him. Your juices all over his cock. Your fingers laid against his lower abdomen, when he now was just able to use you how he saw fit and needed it.

„Gorgeous fucking girl, feeling so good around me. Makes me nearly lose my...urgh composure." he muttered under his breath, just seconds before you could listen to that whine what escaped his parted lips. Just to gave you a particular hard thrust after this.

He was so pussy drunk now. Lost in that heat that took every inch of him so well. Your pussy sucking in his dick. Your lazy boyfriend who just got so addicted to the feeling of you around him.

Thick cock pounding you now extra hard after that whine that he let out. Although, he didn't deny that you made him feel this good. As if every expectation that were placed on him fell off his shoulders. Just you and him and this damn good feeling of you squeezing him. The lewd squelches of your sex and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

„Nearly? I am sure I heard you whine." you panted a little cheeky and this was the moment he looked down at you. Before he decided to push the digit of his thumb in your mouth. To make you shut up and giving you something to be busy.

You sucked on his thumb, delicate plump lips wrapped around the thick digit as you looked so pretty fucked out while he could continue to get just more high on your dripping pussy.

„What a drag when pretty girl is being so cocky. You should learn to think before you open these beautiful lips to speak." was the only thing he said to you before his free hand slapped your pussy, making contact with your clit. Just to listen to the next whine you let off, followed by a deep groan. Making his eyes roll back in bliss before he continued to fuck you just how he needed it when he was this whipped by you.

Naruto Uzumaki ~ Drilling you with no end…

„Just the tip, baby, please." he let out, groaning again when his weeping tip smeared his pre cum over the hot slit of your pussy. When Naruto was pussy drunk, he fucks like nothing else.

He already made you cum three times in a row. Himself spilling his seed into you and well he had so much energy he simply needed you and his pretty girls pussy that felt so damn good around him.

And now, after your last shattering orgasm, you nearly crawled away from him. His hand laid on your plush rear, dragging you back to him. Angry red tip brushing over your clit, making your back arch just a little more.

„Baby, I don't know if I can take it." you pouted, and yet he felt how you leaned a little into his touch.

Naruto was aware how greedy he had been. But what should he do? He loved you, and he loved stuffing your pussy full of him. You were just so soft and when he was inside you, shit, he couldn't help then to just push his length in these dripping walls of yours and make you all these cute little noises he liked so much. He enjoyed watching your ass a little jiggle when he trusted inside you.

The blonde boy leaned over your back. His chest pressed against your skin. One hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Breath tickling your ear.

„You always take me so good, sweetheart. I just can't help it when you bend over sooooo..." he started before he made his tip disappear inside your weeping right entrance. Making you gasp and lift your had a little.

„....pretty and inviting. Your cute pussy begs me to put it inside, you know?" he ended his sentence just to listen to the lewd, sloppy squelch of your cunt.

Naruto was always a golden retriever boyfriend. Full of energy and happy, trying to make you happy for sure. But hell, when he was so whipped with your creamy pussy. He just couldn't stop.

Having you all bend over so nicely. Ass on display, ready for him to grab your soft skin, pull you back onto his dripping dick.

"I know? You say this for like the third time. I will be so sore tomorrow." you whimpered, but your pussy spread so willingly to let more inside than just his fat tip.

His dick was slightly curved, dragging along your gripping walls.

Naruto hissed as soon as he felt how you already clenched around him. He couldn't wait, of course not, Whenever could someone like Naruto wait and be patient without just going after his instinct?

With a gentle tug on your hips his whole length, sheathed in that familiar warmth, coating his cock, making him feel all the more butterflies in his tummy...or more his balls, perhaps.

You gasped and draw a sharp breath, your hands fisting the messy sheets underneath you.

"The fourth, actually, pretty. That's the fourth time. And you just feel even more better. Shit..." he corrected you, of course he counted, as if ever would pass the chance to count the times he fucked you, raw and how often you came all over his pretty dick.

At least he gave you a moment, adjusting so snugly to him. As if you would mold into the perfect shape for him. His cute girlfriend never failed to please him. Never failed to look so good in his sky blue eyes.

This man would ravish you anytime of the day. You wore a hoodie and having messy hair? Damn, you looked hot to him, hands grabbing under the thick fabric.

You made yourself pretty because you went out? Well, he would need just to show you how much he adored your cute outfit.

But now? Hell, it was just in the morning, you not even made it out of bed before. Technically, he wanted to make you some cute breakfast. The one time he was sooner awake than you. He could be the cutest dork ball. But when he tried to wake you up, watching how your shirt slipped up, exposing your ass to him, it was over.   

So instead of feeding you breakfast, he fed you 7 inches of his dick. Making your eyes wide, and he just loved hearing your cute little 'ah' over and over again. This pussy got him hooked right in the morning, his eyes rolling back as he grabbed your hips nearly bruising as soon as he was inside you and gave you this short amount of time to adjust again he started to rut into you, so fast. His own eyes crossing.

"I never get tired of this, I swear. You're just so wet...and take me so well. You are such a good princess, you know? My pretty princess with even a more pretty pussy." he started to babble, to tell yo how good you were to him while he rearranged your guts again and again.

He always praised you so sweet as if he wouldn't fuck the shit out of you, in the early morning.

"Na-Naruto. Slow...ah slow down." you panted but as answer? Oh, he gently pushed your head in the mattress, of course before he ever does that he had asked you if this was ok with you. Since you told him you liked it when he was a little rough. And now? God, he wanted to hear your pussy talk to him, and he couldn't slow down at all, not when you were wrapped around him like this.

Yourself starting to drool by the way his dick was drilling inside you.

"Sorry, baby, I give you...fuck. I give you the best aftercare you can wish for, but I need you like this now. Bend over and drilling into this snug cunt of yours." he told you, groaning before he got lost inside your depth all over again. 

Kakashi Hatake ~ „You can give me another one…“

Sensei knows what he is doing, so aware, he won't stop so soon. Having his sweet girl in a mean mating press, having you in such a tight grip when he bends your knees down to your chest.

Watching how your jaw hung slack, and your eyes looked at him in shock that it was already the third time he came inside you, not even flinching to just fuck his cum right back into you.

"Kashi..." you tried to speak, but you were made shut up when his girthy dick stretched you out so delicious, making you throb so needy and yet so breathless.

"You do so great for me, sweetheart." he praised, his voice so steady and filled with adoration. He loved his girl, oh he did, so much. But he also loved the way you were able to stretch around him, how your pink pussy parts for him. The way you always whined how you couldn't anymore, but your pretty cunt told him something different.

He sank down his dick as he just put more weight into you, until he was inside you to the hilt. Pelvis grinding against you, making you shudder and roll your eyes back when the gentle curve hit your cervix. These white silver hairs from his happy trail tickling your puffy folds.

Making you all the way more desperate for him.

"You said you would be done...darling." you breathed when you tried to not just cum again like a whore just because he put his dick back into your dripping entrance.

Before he said something you could listen to the husky small chuckle, before he pulled down his mask, just to flash you a small smirk. Before he spit down, a stream of spit right onto your aching clit.

Leaning just a little more over to look you right in your wide doe eyes before his hand found the way between your thighs, slowly smearing his spit along your swollen nub, making you whimper.

"Just one more time, my sweet. I just love getting you so full, you always have this adorable pout." he said, and you could listen that even when he seemed to be so composed, hell Kakahsi was gone.   

You gripped him so tight, making it hard for him to not just pound into you all over again, giving you a little time to relax...as far as this is possible with his thick cock inside you. Muscles flexing when he grabbed your thigh tighter pressing you down and literally folding you in half in a sweet, sweet mating press.

After all, he liked seeing it when you took every ounce of his cum inside you. Every creamy string that he shoot into your womb, nothing would go to waste, right? Well, he simply fucked it back into you. Kakahsi was so drunk from your pussy that he only managed to let out a shaky groan, while he continued to rub over your nub.

And there it was this little pout he adored so much, just then he decided to move again.

Dragging his pulsating cock along your inner walls. Nearly bottoming out so just the tip remained inside, before he gave you a long deep stroke.

Lips parting to moan for him. 

"See you take me so well, how can I not want to see this expression of yours? You are such a good girl for me, aren't you?" his voice like some sinful silk wrapping around you, making you nod with teary eyes when he started to fuck you, it was not that fast, but he was so deep. Savoring your tight passage in the best way possible.

"Come on, tell me how good you want to be for me, yeah? You can do that right. Use your words, darling." he urged you, making you whimper again with the next thrust of his hips.

Thumb circled your clit with such a precision it made it so hard for you to think about words. Your skin flushed when he talked like this.

"Want to be....nghh good for you." you managed to say, earning a low rumble in his chest that was a chuckle, before his pickup his pace just a little, both hands on your thighs now. Looking right into your face.

"And good girls, can take one more. Just one more pretty orgasm, one more shudder of your pretty pussy. So shamelessly spread for me." he whispered against your lips then, not kissing you yet, although you wanted him to.

A little loving tease he was. Giving you the meanest treatment with his cock that was pulsating inside you, and yet he cooed you into a soothing balm of his voice.

Indeed, he groaned again at the feeling how you started to clench, and flutter around him. Increasing his pace now, hips snapping against yours. Even when he was not breaking a sweat doing this, but oh you felt so good to him, he couldn't get enough.

"Ahhh god... I am-" you didn't manage to speak properly, eyes rolling back. And you couldn't help to loll your tongue out. Kakashi loved to see you like this, so fucked out, and yet your pussy didn't get enough.

"Hmm, such a cute little slut for me, cumming all along my cock... So adorable." he cooed while looking down at you. Pussy feeling too hot, too slick and too good. Even when he said one more...it wasn't just one more before he fucked you through the next orgasm all over again and would pump you so full of his own cum....  

Itachi Uchiha ~ Falling simply more in love…

When Itachi was pussy drunk, god, he couldn't help then to hold you close, feeling your hot skin against his. Can't even believe that this cute girl was all his. That you let him have this heavenly access to the paradise between your legs. Hands grabbing everywhere where they could reach, kissing your skin, cooing the sweet little nothing's in your ear, while you took his mean, mean dick all the way inside. Itachi had you in reverse cowgirl now. Your plush rear so pretty on display watching how your pink pussy stretched around his length. How you swallowed every delicious inch of him, again and again and again.

Making the shinobi groan in adoration. He never had seen a more beautiful sight. Although, it was hard for him to decide if he liked it more to see your beautiful face contoured in pleasure when he was putting inside his thick inches. Or if he likes it more facing your backside in this angle having you bounce on him, so eagerly to please him.   

You made him just so weak, so weak for your perfect little cunt, it had him gasping. He sat up just to feel you close, even when you rode him reverse into oblivion, he was sure you did.

Eyes closed and yet he saw everything. Lips nipping against your skin, tasting sweet, salty skin. Inhaling your scent. You always smelled so sweet to him but now when you were bouncing on his dick...hell, the smell of your arousal, it turned him on to no end. One strong arm wrapped around your waist, loosely, so you still could drag your wet cunt down his shaft.

"You look so pretty love, so pretty...hmm for me." he murmured against your ear, breath hot over it.

"Do I? Mind to tell me that again?" you asked, no matter how much you thought you would be in control it was Itachi who chuckled, giving into the wishes of his princess. Letting you think you might have had control, although since he was now so whipped with your pussy, you might even have.

"Don't be so rude when you take me this sloppy all the way in." he spoke while his free hand tugged back a strand of hair, before he kissed your cheekbone. Hands now both on the curve of your hip, helping you to slam down just a little harder onto him.

"Fuck." you moaned then, feeling his hard, thick cock just more deep. Making you wiggle down onto him, this had him groaning again, so deep. Holding you so close now, looking down to see how cute your ass jiggled when he thrusted upwards. 

"You have no idea how good you feel wrapped around me like this, it's like heaven." the dark haired man let you know. Oh, he was so lovely to you, even when he noticed how shaky your legs got, how breathy your cute moans were from the way he hit the spot inside you.

As much as he loved fucking you full of his cum, he enjoyed to hold back his massive load for you. Making you a cum a few times on him, just so you would end up, to beg him so cute if he finally gives you his creamy, thick white cum. Such a slut you were for your boyfriend.

"Itachi, baby. Want your cum." you pouted, he was sure he could hear it, before he thrusted sharp up again. Both arms wrapping around you now as he pressed his front to your back.

"You really do, hm? I can tell your legs grow numb, huh? Pretty girl too weak, to take me?" he teased husky, gently biting your neck, what made you whimper.

Not even arguing this time with him.

"Fine, I grant you what you wish, my darling." he murmured before he let go of you laying down back in the pillows, grabbing your soft flesh of your bouncy ass.

Helping you to thrust back onto his massive shaft, over and over again.

Biting his lower lip gently when he watched the lewd display, when the noise of your skin clapping against his, was heard. The way the bed creaked. It was just so hot for him. 

"Be a naughty girl, love. Rub that clit for me, want you to cum with me this time." he commanded softly, and you couldn't help but to dance your own fingers over your swollen nub.

Itachi controlling your hips to his liking, just taking in the sensation. Not even holding back to moan your name, since he loved you so much, loved the feeling of your pussy.

Getting drunk on it like this. Eyes closed, head in the pillows...just feeling right now.

Feeling how your walls clamped down around his cock the closer you got, how his tip hit that spongy part inside you. Making you shudder and squirm a little, every time he hit that spot.

His hips bucking upwards faster, more desperate for release.

"God, I fucking...urgh love you." he panted and gasped, his balls drawing up so, so tight. You felt too good to stop.

You rubbed your clit with urgency, yourself seconds away from cumming all over his lap.

"Baby...:" you managed to squeal out before you tensed, your cunt squeezing him so god, it made his eyes roll back, pumping you full of his hot and potent seed. Rope after rope, painting your insides white. Not that he had enough now....no.

With a quick move he bends you over then, simply fucking through your orgasm and through his, this would be a long night ahead.

Just because your legs grew numb wouldn't mean your pussy can't take more right?

[springcatalyst]

this movie is permanently implanted in my retinas. it's not even that good

[soulprompts]

CARING FOR THE SICK PROMPTS.

i found this list and kinda fed into it each time i got the flu or a migraine, and u know what, it's just me revealing just how much i love the caring threads and the soft threads and the fondly exasperated "let me help you" threads! use at your pleasure, DO NOT ADD TO THE LIST NOR EDIT IT! i will be changing it accordingly!

" i found you passed out in the kitchen. you wanna stop working yourself so hard? or do i need to keep hitting the gym to carry you to bed every day? "

" you're burning up. "

" your neighbour called me and said you could use a nurse. looks like they were right, too. "

" you were told to take it easy, so... yeah. this is kinda on you. "

" you took a sick day. you NEVER take a sick day. so yeah, i got worried, and i figured i'd come over and keep an eye on you. "

" you texted me a long and incoherent text that held about 90% of the emoji list and about four different languages. figured it wouldn't hurt to drop by and see how you were doing. "

" how long have you been sick for? and don't lie. "

" you look like hell. "

" i brought you some soup; let me heat some up for you? "

" okay. it's time you went to the hospital. "

" hey… hello there, sleeping beauty. you gave me a bit of a scare yesterday. how are you feeling? "

" i swear, if you even think of getting out of that bed… "

" you know when i said to call if it's an emergency? a fever is most DEFINITELY considered an emergency! "

" if you think you're going to work like this, you better think again. "

" don't worry. my family swears by this remedy; just let it work its magic and you'll feel good as new in no time. "

" I don't care about getting sick. i'm not leaving you until you're back to full health. "

" you didn't stop to think that this might happen when you're burning the candle at both ends? "

" yeah, I can play the role of nurse AND say "I told you so" at the same time, actually. "

" you better drink every last drop of this tea, no matter how disgusting it is. "

" i told my boss it was an emergency so they've given me a full week to look after you. "

" quit being so stubborn and get into BED! "

" what part of doctor's orders hasn't sunk in yet? bed rest! for the WEEK! "

" right, where do you keep your saucepans? i'm going to make you my famous noodle soup. it's a cure-all, i'm telling you! "

" hey, unless you're going to the bathroom or the sofa, I don't want to see you out of that bed. got it? "

" when are you gonna start letting people look after you, huh? "

" i know, i know, i turned off all the lights once i figured you had the migraine. you want some tea? water? "

" don't be mad, but i saw your fridge, and... it frightened me. so i've taken you back to my place, and i'm gonna get deliveroo to bring some groceries to your place tomorrow. okay? "

" i know your appetite is a little off, so i ordered in a whole tonne of options. just try a little bit of something, please? for me? "

" i've brought half a pharmacy, enough movies and boardgames to last us a decade, and every single snack i could fit into the basket at the grocery store. so sit your butt down, eat your soup, and try and make the most of your bed rest for the next week, will you? "

ACTION PROMPTS ( SEND THE FULL LINE! and feel free to reverse if u wish! ):

[ TOUCH ]: sender gently rests a hand against the receiver's forehead to check their temperature.

[ DAMP ]: sender presses a cool cloth against the receiver's face, neck and forehead to try and lower their fever.

[ BLANKET ]: sender wraps another blanket around the receiver to try and stop them from shivering.

[ SPOON ]: sender gently coaxes spoons of soup into the receiver's mouth to build up their strength after an illness.

[ CARRY ]: sender, finding the receiver weakened/unconscious on the floor, immediately lifts them up and carries them back to bed.

[ AROUND ]: sender keeps a protective arm around the receiver to help them walk without the risk of stumbling or collapsing.

[ STAY ]: sender decides to stay by the receiver's bedside after learning that they're sick.

[ HAIR ]: sender smooths back the receiver's hair in a soothing gesture to try and help them go back to sleep.

[ TILT ]: sender tips a bottle of water up for the receiver to sip from.

[ HUM ]: sender hums/sings to soothe a sick receiver back to sleep.

[ BACK ]: sender gently rubs the receiver's back, either to soothe them or warm them while they're unwell.

[ SHARE ]: sender climbs into the receiver's sickbed with them, wrapping their arms around them to offer warmth and comfort.

[ SHOWER ]: sender, learning the receiver has a high fever, takes a cold shower with them in order to lower their temperature.

[ WAKEN ]: the receiver wakes up in bed, having been found unconscious by the sender and carried into the bed from the floor.

[ QUARANTINE ]: the sender and receiver, both being sick, decide to quarantine together and spend the recovery period with each other.

[nkogneatho]

𝐃𝐀𝐃'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.

—a/n: this is part 1. i am slowly testing out the idea since i am getting back into writing. you're free to tell me your thoughts on this in the reblogs or comments and if you want me go through and write part 2 smut.

part 2 is here yay

dad's bestfriend satoru who is hitting on you in such a subtle manner that it goes unnoticed by your family. they have so much faith in him since he's now a family friend. you've been away for college and only managed to show up on special family dinners so you didn't know he became so involved and special while you were gone.

you didn't miss the soft yet flirtatious gaze he gave you in between conversations at the dinner table. the spoon dangling between his lips for a few seconds more than they were supposed too. his finger swiping against the cream on top of the tiramisu and his tongue darting out to clean it off. it made you mouth dry even when you were sipping on the wine the whole time.

you didn't miss the "accidental" nudge of his shoulder against yours as you both bumped into each other on the way to the washroom. or when his pinky brushed against yours to steal away your embarrassing polaroids from college to see which were only reserved for your parents.

it was infuriating. hot, but infuriating. because how come no one else was seeing this? it was painfully obvious. your dad, kento, should've punched him by now. but he didn't because obviously, satoru was just being nice. so you decided on taking the matter in your own hands.

"i am gonna need you to stop," your voice stern as you confronted him. you had pulled him upstairs in the corner to avoid the embarrassment in front of everyone just in case you were wrong.

"stop what?" he looked genuinely confused but you were sure, just for a second, you saw an evil grin plastering his face.

"with all that "i want to fuck you" eyes you've been giving me the whole evening." you wait for his reply. one second passed. three seconds passed. ten seconds passed. none. there's nothing but a dark expression on his face that you don't know it roots from where. and before you could, he moves towards you forcing you to pace backwards.

step.

step.

step.

ste—shit. your back hits the wall. his hand slowly climbs up, and you gulp. you have no idea what's going to happen next but that's what is pooling your panties more. he ghosts his knuckles against collarbone, never contacting the skin but it still doesn't fail to make a shiver run down your spine. you almost beg him to touch you until he speaks.

"and what makes you think i want to fuck you, sweetheart?" he asks. his voice dark and thick. which makes you question every single moral, every single boundary of yours. you want to answer but you can't. all the words are choked up in your throat, refusing to come out. you look at him with doe eyes, that makes his dick tent against his pant. you're about to do something questionable—

"gojo-san," but the voice of your mother calling out for him from downstairs startles you. gojo sighs, almost in regret.

"go to you room," he checks around to see if anyone caught you two.

"but—"

"y/n, go to your room and lock. the. damn. door. understood?" he orders and there is no way you cam refuse him.

but why did he tell you to lock the door? more importantly, why is it making you want to keep it unlocked even more?

[wileys-russo]

my mummy II l.williamson

part of the milaverse my mummy II l.williamson

"okay which one bubba? red or black?" you questioned, holding up the tiny arsenal jerseys and doing a little shimmy making your daughter giggle.

her tiny hand stroking her chin thoughtfully made you shake your head with an amused smile as she mulled over her options.

"black." mila eventually decided, finger pointing to the jersey in question, leahs number and williamson sprawled on the back.

"good pick babe. arms up please!" you instructed, quirking an eyebrow when the four year old shook her head in response. "i wanna dress myself today please mumma." she informed crossing her arms over her chest with a determined nod.

“mila are you-“ “im nearly five now, a big girl. i can do it.”

"very true i’m sorry. but its cold and its windy today, so dress warm please!" you warned, moving to sit down on the edge of her bed. "no mumma, by myself!" the four year old pointed to the door and hurried over, pushing impatiently at your legs.

"okay okay! jesus i thought i'd get a few more years before i got kicked out of your room, this hurts mila." you gasped dramatically as she shoved you from her room, only met with a door slammed in your face.

"was that-" you turned around and nodded to your wife. "she wants to dress herself today." you informed with a chuckle, moving into the blondes waiting arms which wrapped around you.

"we've told her she isn't allowed to grow up right?" "nearly every day since was born my love, she just does not want to listen."

~

"-are you done now?" you called out with a sigh, leaning against the wall by your daughters door which you'd tried to open several times. only met with a shout and it pushed closed again, mila firmly stating she wasn't ready and you weren't allowed to see until she was.

leah had already left as to not be late and you shook your head as you checked the time again already knowing the two of you would be stuck in traffic and miss kick off if you didn't leave soon.

you'd decided to give the goalpost a kiss in training and were on concussion watch, the knock was nothing serious enough to warrant medical treatment but it was enough to mean you'd be watching todays match from the stands.

"okay mila my love. we have to go and i'm coming in!" you warned, though before you could even grab the handle the door it flew open and a bundle of colour and blonde hair came zooming out.

"like it?" your daughter beamed, bouncing happily on the balls of her feet as you bit your bottom lip taking in her choice of outfit, trying really hard not to bust out in laughter.

she had on a pair of light up trainers alessia had gotten her for her birthday, pale yellow nike joggers with a pair of lime green bike shorts over the top.

on her top half she had on a red hoodie with a pink wälti jersey over the top and a white arsenal beanie on her head, with its matching scarf tied around her hips like a makeshift belt.

"well...i'm not going to lose you in the crowd, thats for certain." you admitted, knowing no matter what you said or tried there wasn't a chance you'd be getting your daughter changed without a fight.

"you don't wanna wear mummys jersey?" you tried, knowing your wife would kick off and lia would be absolutely beside herself with glee in your daughters current choice.

"nope! aunty wally was sad last time i saw her so i thought this would make her happy, cause you and mummy always say pink is a happy colour!" mila explained and your heart melted.

the last time she had seen lia was after a particularly rowdy team night out where she'd wound up crashing at your place, you the designated driver and your wife a key influence in just how many shots lia had downed which you'd told her off for afterwards.

the two had wound up crying crocodile tears on the living room floor as you disallowed them to see mila when the three of you returned home and swapped over with the babysitter around 11 at night.

trying to remind them it was hours after mila's bedtime and the two of them were very drunk it was like arguing with two overgrown toddlers.

which had in turn had woken your daughter up who'd come to investigate, not understanding why she wasn't allowed to say hello when you tried to usher her quickly back to bed before either of the lw's sobbing in the living room could get their hands on her.

"we do say that don't we." you agreed with your daughters words, shaking your head in amusement at her outfit but giving in, not wanting to fully squash the independence you and leah were trying to instill in her.

"at least you listened about the weather and did lots of layers bubba."

~

you sent polite smiles to the strange looks you received walking your daughter through the tunnels of the emirates, meeting up with leahs mum and wordlessly shaking your head at her questioning stare as she scooped up her granddaughter and the three of you made your way to your seats.

"do you like my outfit nana?" your daughter chirped for the third time in the hour as you waved to your wife who was very clearly looking around stressed that she'd not spotted you yet, sighing in relief once she had.

"don't ask." you mouthed at her perplexed look toward your daughter stood up in your lap furiously waving her and her team mates down. "wally!" you cupped your hands over your mouth to gain the midfielders attention as she began to walk off the pitch after warm ups.

vic heard you and grinned before tapping lia's shoulder and gesturing toward you as you spun mila around to show her last name plastered on your daughters back. her face lit up and you laughed as she raced right over to almost tackle your wife, no doubt about to lay into her about it.

now mila was older she'd become a different sort of handful to take to games, especially when both you and leah were playing and had to trust her in someone elses care.

normally your poor mother in law who insisted leah was much worse at that age, which never failed to rile the blonde up who argued her brother was the handful and she was the golden child.

gone were the earmuffs, dummy and baby blanket mila had needed to settle previously, where she'd often sleep the whole way through the match happily bundled up in someones arms.

but nowadays she was a little unstoppable bundle of energy who often required distraction or bribery of some sort to sit still for prolonged periods of time.

which is how you found yourself racing off midway through the first half to sort out some food, having left in such a rush you'd completely forgotten the bag of snacks and toys you normally carted along with you whenever you left the house with mila in tow.

much like her other mother your daughter had the stomach of a bottomless pit, though gratefully she'd taken after you with what she was happy to put in that pit and was nowhere near as fussy as leah.

sometimes when you made dinner and mila ate what you did but leah required a separate meal you really questioned who was the four year old between them.

thankfully once she'd been fed and watered mila settled a little. with her nana more than happy to listen to her chatter and answer her millions of questions you made it through the entire match without a single issue.

the problems started when the game finished, mila starting to go on the turn when you wouldn't allow her to run down the stairs toward the barriers to see leah or any of her aunties, far too many people around and worried you'd lose her or she'd be crushed in the crowd.

it would seem though that patience was not on your daughters agenda today.

"i wanna see mummy now!" the girl whined, wriggling furiously to try and yank her hand out of your grip as you sighed and took a deep breath.

"mummys just saying hi to some people first bubba, thats part of our job! remember?" you tried to explain, even offering her an ice cream as a last minute ditch to distract her but it was to no use.

not even alessia could capture her attention for more than a few minutes as your daughter grew more and more fussy and inpatient the more time passed.

"it'll be fine." you forced a smile toward your friends and team mates who'd all taken turns trying to distract mila as the two of you stood in the tunnel now, leah signing autographs and taking photos with a larger crowd than normal.

"wanna come kick a ball tiny?" beth offered in a last ditch effort and that seemed to work as your daughter nodded eagerly and latched onto the taller girls leg, her giggles echoing around as beth zoomed off back onto the pitch.

you kept them in clear sight as you hung on the sidelines now, waving to a few fans who called out your name, sending an apologetic shake of your head when they asked for your signature and photos too, your focus needing to on your daughter today.

but that tiny lapse in attention was all it took for mila to break away from beth, sprinting off toward leah who had her back turned and ignoring the older girls calls after her which gained your focus back right away.

intercepting her quickly you scooped the four year old up into your arms and sat her on your hip. "i wanna see mummy!” you winced as she smacked your chest a few times and pushed away alessia who'd appeared to try and help, and you could tell from the wobble of her bottom lip that she was a few moments away from a total meltdown.

"hey mila, baby look at me please." you dropped to your knees and stood her on her feet, your hands on her shoulders stopping her from running off.

"we don't hit people, okay? i know you're having some really big feelings and you miss mummy but-" you started, yelping as your daughter suddenly clawed at your hand, racing away toward leah.

you shouted after her, leah looking up a second too late as her daughter barreled into her. "my mummy! mine!" she snarled at a young girl who leah was trying to take a picture with.

the defender quickly picking her up and apologizing to the fan and her dad right as mila started to have a meltdown.

apologizing to the crown still awaiting her attention leah turned heel and headed toward you, the two of you falling into step as you made your way into the tunnel and down the hall toward the change rooms.

"bubba-" you started as her screams turned into sobs and she buried her face in leahs neck who winced with one final scream sounding in her ear.

"off!" mila demanded, pushing away your hand which tried to rub at her back as you inhaled sharply and paused.

catching your wifes eye who nodded in understanding, you stayed outside and she disapeared into the change rooms to try and calm your daughter down.

"hey, you alright?" you glanced up to meet concerned blue eyes and nodded, exhaling deeply as your best friend pulled you into a hug. "thanks less." you mumbled as she rubbed your back, assuring over and over that you were the best mum ever.

promising her you were okay but that you'd need a rain check on dinner plans you all had tonight she gave you another hug and headed off to see her family.

with another deep breath you headed into the change rooms, only a few of the girls remaining as you spotted leah by her cubby. you caught her eye again and raised an eyebrow as she nodded, your daughter still tightly clinging onto her.

"mila. what do we need to say to mumma please?" leah started firmly, bouncing her knee up and down gently to gain your daughters attention as she pulled her head out of your wifes neck.

"im very sorry for scratching and yelling." the girl apologised softly, climbing off leahs lap and moving into yours, warmth flooding your body as she hugged you tightly and you kissed the top of her head.

you melted even further as your daughter grabbed your hand, carefully kissing over where she'd scratched you before clambering right back into leahs lap.

"i'll shower at home." leah chuckled, gesturing to the way your daughter clung onto her like a monkey, refusing to loosen her grip as you took your wifes bag for her and the three of you waved goodbye to the few girls left and headed for the car park.

"mummy sit in the back with me, please?" mila ordered with a pout once you reached the car.

"alright kid, just this once." leah gave in clearly picking up that mila was being abnormally clingy today, something the two of you would need to speak with her about another time.

and for the rest of that night it was the same story, your daughter refusing not to have some part of her in contact with leah at all times.

so much so that she'd stayed in the bathroom while your wife showered, insisting you sit with her as well as she held leahs hand through the shower door as much as she could making you smile in amusement.

"my mummy." was all that seemed to be repeated, the possessiveness also something new but a conversation for another day as leah waved off your concerns, too thrilled with having your daughters full focus and attention all night.

"for god sakes." you'd mumbled later that night at the sight before you. your wife having spent an abnormal amount of time putting mila to bed you'd wandered up to check in.

only to find leah dead asleep in the tiny single bed belonging to your daughter, long limbs hanging off the sides with mila curled into her still very much so awake.

"sh! mummy is very tired." the four year old warned with her finger over her lips as you entered the room.

"you should be asleep little miss, not mummy!" you reminded quietly as she gave you a cheeky smile looking far too much like leah, holding up the book which was previously laid open on your wifes chest and patting the mere centimeters of space left on her bed beside her.

"one more story, please?"

[avatar-anna]

Never Really Over

a little bit of divorced!harry for your consideration

"I just wanna see him."

Y/n gave her ex a long look, not betraying the warring emotions swirling in her belly. Harry rarely showed up this late. He rarely showed up unannounced, for that matter. It made things easier—seeing him when she could prepare herself for the encounter. Now he was here on her doorstep, hair messy and eyes all pleading and sad.

"I just put him to bed, H," Y/n sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want to keep Harry from their son, but it was way too late, and it wasn't his week.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Y/n had been feeling particularly lonely lately and seeing her ex husband be all sweet with their son would make her think traitorous thoughts.

"I know, I know, I've just... I've had a long day, and I just want to see him. I won't even wake him up, I swear. I just want to sit with him."

Despite the divorce, Y/n still knew Harry struggled with the demise of their relationship, and she did too, even if she was the one who ultimately filed. They were five months in, but she felt like no time had passed at all. She floated between half expecting Harry to walk through the door like he used to and frustrated by the way their relationship turned so tumultuous by the end. It was all too complicated, which was why she preferred Harry's visits to be planned. It helped her to compartmentalize.

But she saw the look in his eyes and couldn't help but empathize with her ex-husband.

He looked tired and lost and maybe even at his wits end a little. She knew that look well, she recognized it every time she looked in the mirror on the days Harry had their son. She knew what it was like to have a bad day and want nothing more than to hold their little bub and let him wash away every bit of stress and frustration. Y/n did everything she could to not go completely out of her mind when it was Harry's week with their son, and she imagined that her ex felt similarly.

"Twenty minutes," she said, opening the door further and stepping to the side.

Harry's shoulders sagged with relief. He stepped toward Y/n as if he was going to hug her, then seemed to think better of it and went straight inside.

Y/n stayed downstairs while Harry went up, letting him have a private moment with their son. She cleaned up in the meantime, putting away stray toys and books and fluffing couch cushions and refolding blankets. Anything to not think of Harry with her son, or the soft look he always got when he gazed down at their little boy. It had always been her kryptonite, and she wasn't sure she'd gotten over it yet.

A little while later, Harry came back downstairs. Having organized and straightened up everything she possibly could, Y/n settled on the couch with the glass of wine she'd promised herself earlier that day. She'd wanted to have it in her bed with her book, but she settled for scrolling on her phone until her ex eventually left.

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice soft, careful not to wake the five year old upstairs. "You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it," Y/n said, trying to appear like seeing him didn't have an effect on her the way it used to.

"Really, Y/n, I owe you."

"Let's not go and make promises you can't keep again," she muttered.

Y/n felt guilty as soon as she said it. They were having a civil moment, a rarity since the whirlwind of their divorce. She hadn't meant to pick at old wounds and make them bleed again. Her response was a reflex more than anything, one that she couldn't keep in check when she was tired.

"I'm not the one who filed for divorce, Y/n," Harry said, a dark cloud of emotion overtaking his face. "If anyone broke promises, it was you."

"Those vows were broken long before we got divorced, and you know it," Y/n said, that old fire that was more of a dull ember these days rising to the surface.

Harry and Y/n fell in love hard and fast, both loving each other fiercely and with everything cell in their body. Their relationship had been full of passion and intensity and so much love it was almost suffocating. But it also meant that they fought just as hard. Their arguments often blazed and burned bright, then fizzled out until they were in each other's arms again as if nothing had happened.

Until the arguments got bigger.

And longer.

And Y/n just couldn't take it anymore.

Y/n could tell that the anger simmering in Harry's eyes was more for show. She could see the sadness, perhaps even loneliness, in those lovely green eyes of his. And maybe her anger was a little more bravado than genuine hurt too. Maybe it was easier to slip into familiar habits and poke at old wounds than admit the truth.

She missed him.

"Don't make me the villain here. You—"

"I don't want to fight with you," she said before Harry could volley anything back. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm sorry. It's been a long day for me, and I'm assuming yours wasn't a walk in the park either."

Harry didn't say anything, or do anything, for a moment. Then, he let his head drop, his shoulders slumping a little. Feeling more than a little bad for kicking him while he was down, Y/n stood up from the couch and fetched another glass before pouring some wine in it for her ex. "Here," she said. "A peace offering. You look like you could use it."

With a laugh that held no humor in it, he took it and raised the glass to his mouth, and Y/n tried hard not to stare at his lips. Or the column of his throat as it bobbed when he took a sip. Or—

"Is this one of mine?"

Y/n willed her cheeks not to flush. "I might've snagged a few bottles from your collection before we sold the house. Most of them went untouched anyways."

"They were aging," Harry said, a little of that humor and charm she fell in love with sparking in his eyes, the lines of his face. "You're supposed to let the bottles rest for a few years until they're at their peak, and then you drink them."

Y/n shrugged. "If you wait too long it goes bad and you miss out on a perfectly good bottle altogether, and then you do all that waiting for nothing."

She didn't mean anything by it, but both of them recognized the subtle truth in regards to their own relationship. Y/n wondered if they would ever be over this part. The stumbling through conversations and trying to avoid dangerous subjects that were littered between them like a minefield.

"Are you saying that's what happened with us?" Harry asked after taking another sip. "That I waited too long to appreciate what was right in front of me? What was perfect in every way the whole time?"

"I was talking about wine, not us."

"You've always been perfect in my eyes, Y/n," Harry said. "You and that perfect angel upstairs. Both of you are my entire world."

"Don't," Y/n said, taking a step back when she realized how close together they were.

"I miss you," Harry said, his voice hitching in his throat. "I miss waking up to our baby snuggled between us. I miss holding your hand while we watch him play at the park. I miss building pillow forts and playing pretend. I miss you, Y/n. I miss being loved by you. I hate that we're divorced. I hate that I signed those stupid papers and let you walk away."

Her throat suddenly felt dry, her heart pumping in her chest so hard she worried he might hear it. Blinking, Y/n tried to maintain the thread of composure holding her together. "You've had a long day. I can tell you need rest—"

"Don't patronize me," he said, stepping closer and closing the small distance between them once more. When Y/n didn't try to widen it again, Harry continued. "If you don't miss me, if you don't still feel what I feel, then say that. But if you do..."

Harry took Y/n's glass and set it down on the coffee table along with his own. He straightened up, one free hand lightly caressing your face, his thumb grazing across her cheek with a touch so delicate she barely felt it. It was agonizing. To have him right there, just the way she used to, and only get a phantom touch. It was maddening.

So maddening, that when he leaned in, Y/n didn't stop him.

She might have whimpered, and her knees might have slightly buckled, and she might have clutched her shirt between her fingers in a desperate, iron grip as Harry slid his mouth against hers, but she would deny it if he said anything about it later.

His kiss was all-consuming, he'd been a ghost in her new life for months, and suddenly he was everywhere—on her tongue, in her hands, against her chest. And she nearly forgot how explosive kissing him was. How it was almost like a dance that they'd mastered but were always learning new and exciting steps to. The softness of her ex's lips were as familiar as ever, but the stubble on his cheeks was new. She didn't recognize the shirt he wore, but she knew the body beneath it almost as well as her own. And his hands—

"We can't—We're not—Harry—"

Over the years, Y/n had grown used to the feeling of Harry's wedding band against her skin. When he held her hand, when he cupped her cheek, when he was spreading her open or landing a firm slap to her ass. It was familiar, a part of him that just seemed intrinsic after they got married.

But now, as she placed her hand over the one that held the side of her face as he kissed along her throat, it wasn't there. The band was gone, they weren't married anymore, and they certainly shouldn't be kissing like they still were.

"Just this once," Harry murmured, pressing the words along the curve of her jaw. "It's been so long, baby. I just want to feel you again. We can still be divorced after. Like last time."

Flames licked Y/n's core as she remembered the night in question. It had been the night the divorce had been finalized. Harry and Y/n signed and initialed every dotted line, the lawyers shook hands and left, then Harry and Y/n went their separate ways

Harry still insisted that her late-night message about a few of his possessions that got mixed in with her things was meant to have some kind of subtext, and Y/n would swear until she was blue in the face that her text was innocent, even if the activities that followed Harry coming over to "pick up" said items were anything but. It was a final goodbye. It was closing a chapter on a book neither of them ever really believed would end.

"Last time was supposed to be the last time," Y/n said, her voice shallow and not at all convincing.

"Tell me you don't want me right now," Harry said, his hand creeping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. Y/n's mouth opened in a strangled gasp, too aroused and too in love with him still to push him away. "Tell me not to set you down on the kitchen counter and let me love on that pussy the way I used to. Tell me not to haul you upstairs and fuck you hard for breaking us up when we could've had this every. Single. Day."

Harry's last words were punctuated by the thrust of his fingers inside Y/n, each one making her curl around him tight. He lifted her into his arms and set her on the couch, the closest surface in the vicinity that wasn't hardwood flooring. His fingers still moving inside her, pumping slowly, he pressed a bruising kiss to her lips.

"Tell me not to love you anymore," he said, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. "Tell me how to fall out of love with you. Tell me how to not dream of you. Tell me how to not want you anymore."

Y/n, who had succumbed to this moment, this lapse in...whatever it was, could only grip her ex's hair as he worked her over with his fingers, each word he spoke a balm to the loneliness these last months brought. She wasn't ready to start seeing someone else after the divorce, but now she worried no one would ever measure up to Harry. He ruined her for any other man who might try to sweep her off her feet in the future.

"Tell me, Y/n, and I'll let you come."

Y/n was a mess. She could hear it as Harry's fingers slid in and out of her quickly and harshly, then slowing down before she could finish. He used to do it all the time, knowing how worked up it made her, and now he knew nothing had changed.

"I—" she gasped. She was so close she could barely think straight. Harry's desperate words and the way his fingers curled inside her had her seeing stars. But if she knew her ex, he would stay there and edge her until she gave him what he wanted. "I don't know. I don't know how to make it stop. Please let me come."

Having thought she'd given him what he wanted, Y/n prepared herself for an earth-shattering orgasm. She surrendered herself to tonight, to him, even if she regretted it in the morning. Even if secretly she didn't, which would make her feel even worse.

But instead of pushing her over the edge, Harry removed his fingers from her altogether. The whine Y/n let out at the loss was perhaps a little undignified, but she couldn't think straight with the thick cloud of lust looming over her.

"Wh—"

"We're going to do this properly," he said, scooping her up into his arms and heading back upstairs, taking a left toward her bedroom. Their little angel boy was down the hall on the right side, but Y/n knew they still had to be quiet.

Once behind the closed door of her bedroom, they were both quick to shed each other of their clothes. Stitching ripped, a button or two flew, socks tossed carelessly to corners of the room they'd probably forget about later until there wasn't an ounce of fabric between them.

There wasn't time to stand and appreciate. This wasn't a romantic moment. It was desperate, a little angry, and intense in the way it always has been between them. Y/n kissed her ex-husband hard, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip and soothing the ache with her tongue until he eventually flipped her over onto her stomach.

"You can't be here by the time he wakes up tomorrow," Y/n managed to say. "I don't want to confuse him."

"I know," Harry said, lining himself up with her entrance. "But wouldn't it be so nice if I did?"

"Harry—"

"Relax, baby, I'll abide by your rules," he said, his voice a soft caress. "Just let me have you tonight, and then I'll be gone."

Harry slid in with one smooth thrust, Y/n's mouth dropping open in response. She hadn't been stretched this way in months, and the feel of him inside her again as if nothing had changed...

"Fuck, Harry. I'm—I'm so close," she moaned, unable to say much more than that.

His movements were torturously slow, prolonging the climax he'd been teasing out of her on the couch. Then he leaned over her, his body pressing deliciously against hers.

"We may be separated, but you're still mine," he said, his words accented by his own pleasure. "These hips? Mine. Your tits? Mine. This little cunt? Well, she already knows. Absolutely drenching me. And tonight, I'm going to make sure you remember that."

Y/n could only whimper and wait to take whatever her ex-husband was willing to give her.

*.*

Y/n was having the best dream.

Sun streamed through the small crack in her bedroom curtains as she snuggled under the weight of the warmest, coziest blanket. She held onto it, wrapping it tighter around her, hoping to get a couple more minutes of sleep before her son eventually barged in and demanded they start their day.

She had a million things to do, but none of it seemed to matter while she slept. She felt relaxed in a way she hadn't in a long time.

Then the dream seemed to change. The cozy blanket became an arm draped over her, a leg tangled between her own, and a firm body pressed against her back. The unknown form wrapped around her began to kiss along her bare back, the arm tightening its grip around her waist. Her stomach flipped as a hand began to play with her breast.

She hadn't had one of those dreams in a long time, either.

Before the dream could go any further, Y/n regrettably began to feel the pinpricks of consciousness. But as she blinked her eyes open, she still felt that weight of another body next to hers, of someone other than herself occupying her bed.

It was then that last night made an appearance in her mind, recalling every dirty detail of how she'd given into her ex-husband.

"Good morning."

Harry's voice was low and gruff as if he'd only just woken up himself. The puffs of his breaths dusted over Y/n's skin and sent goosebumps all over. She didn't understand how her body, even while it was still waking up, was so responsive to him.

As casually as possible, she said, "You weren't supposed to stay over."

"Honestly, I don't even remember falling asleep," Harry admitted, though he made no move to leave her Y/n's bed.

"You have to go before he wakes up," she insisted, even if her body was completely against that idea. "He can't find you here. If he does, he'll have questions, and—"

Before Y/n could even finish, she heard the soft patter of feet against soft carpet. Then her door creaked open, and the light of her life appeared.

"Daddy!"

Y/n rested her hands over her face, but not before seeing Harry's broad grin out of the corner of her eye, one that was nearly identical to the little boy at the foot of the bed.

"Hey, buddy," Harry said, his voice less husky than it was just moments ago. "What are you doing up so early, huh?"

"Why are you in bed with Mommy?" the boy asked, climbing into bed with his parents and wriggling around until he was snuggled between them.

Wasn't that the question, Y/n thought, though she was in no rush to help Harry.

"Mummy and Daddy decided to have a sleepover," Harry explained.

"Oh. Well, why didn't you invite me?"

"Because..." Y/n felt Harry's gaze on her, but she was not inclined to dig him out of this hole. Their night was over. It was a new day, which meant everything was back to the way it was before Harry came over last night. "Because I wanted to surprise you this morning. We're all going to spend the day together. Just the three of us."

"Yay!"

"What?"

Y/n glared over the top of her son's head as he half-hugged half-tackled Harry from sheer excitement. This was definitely not reverting back to their normal routine of co-parenting and seeing each other only when it was necessary. Harry, who looked thoroughly pleased with himself, slid out of bed with their boy still latched into him.

Thankfully, he was wearing underwear, but that didn't help Y/n much. She couldn't help but stare at his muscles flexing as he stood and stretched while he held their son. At all the tattoos that littered his body and the mess of curls on his head. He had no right to look this good in the morning, especially when Y/n knew for a fact that she always looked haggard no matter what when she first woke up.

Not that her appearance in front of her ex mattered to her.

"Come on, let's start with making your mum some breakfast. I'm thinking...waffles?"

"Do not make a mess of my kitchen, Harry," Y/n warned, not even bothering to protest the idea in its entirety. She wouldn't have been able to tell her son no even if he tried. Not with how excited he looked at the prospect of spending the day with his dad.

"We'll clean up after ourselves, I promise," Harry said with a wink in your direction. "You stay there and rest. I know you had a...long night."

Y/n threw a pillow at Harry's retreating form before flopping back into her bed. She had half a mind to strut right over to him and prove him wrong, but, well, the dull ache between her legs was starting to make itself known, and the damage of her son seeing Harry in her bed was already done. She might as well stay in bed and take the morning off if Harry was offering.

Sighing, Y/n ran a tired hand over her face as one realization after another made themselves known.

Everything about last night and this morning was messy and would no doubt bring about consequences and difficult conversations she wasn't inclined to have. There were questions she didn't want to ask or know the answer to, but one thing was abundantly clear:

She was well and truly fucked.

[verstappenverse]

The Price of the Podium

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the relentless pursuit of racing glory, Max faces the emotional fallout of missing an important weekend in his relationship, leaving your future uncertain.

1.5k words / Part 2 / Masterlist

Max's heart raced as the engine of his RedBull roared beneath him. The familiar hum had become a source of comfort, a steady rhythm that guided him through countless laps and countless victories. But today it felt different, a harbinger of an approaching storm that threatened to dismantle everything he held dear.

The season had been merciless. Each race had been a relentless pursuit of perfection, each lap a battle against time and competitors. Max understood that this world demanded sacrifices, but lately the weight of those sacrifices had changed.

When Max glanced at his phone during a fleeting moment of respite his stomach dropped as a surge of guilt swept over him. A string of missed calls and urgent messages from you filled the screen, each one more desperate than the last.

Hey, can you please call me when you get a chance? I need to talk to you.

Max, you’re really starting to worry me. I don’t understand what's going on?

It’s been three days since we spoke properly. Can you at least let me know you’re okay?

Max’s gaze fell on the calendar, he had promised again to visit your extended family this weekend, a significant step for you both that had been previously filled with excitement and anticipation. Your family were eager to meet him, and Max had been looking forward to it as well. But now with the punishing schedule of the season, he was struggling to find even a moment to breathe, let alone make the trip.

He knew he was being a coward, but it was easier to avoid the situation than confront it directly and risk letting down the person who mattered most.

As Max approached the racetrack for another testing session, the weight of his choices hit him like a sledgehammer. He was about to miss an important milestone in your life together and he didn't think you'd be so forgiving this time.

His mind was full of conflicting emotions. He wanted to be there for you, to prove to your family that he was serious about your relationship, but the world of racing had a way of consuming everything in its path leaving no room for personal commitments.

The testing session was a blur. Max’s driving was flawless, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The track blurred into an endless ribbon of asphalt. He pushed himself to the limit, hoping that the adrenaline would drown out the guilt gnawing at his conscience.

Finally, the session ended. Max’s team were in high spirits celebrating the improved performance. He barely registered their enthusiasm, his mind was occupied with the image of you waiting for him in a small town, wondering why he had not shown up. He could picture you there, waiting for him, checking the clock, wondering if he’d even bothered to leave. And it wasn’t just about this weekend, it was about every missed call, every text he hadn’t answered, every promise he’d let slide.

The moment Max stepped out of the car he took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. He dialed your number hoping against hope that you would answer. After a few rings your voice came through the line tinged with weariness and frustration.

“Max?”

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been out of touch.”

“Out of touch? You’ve been completely absent! I was supposed to introduce you to my family this weekend. It was important to me.”

“I know. I wanted to be there, but things just got out of hand here. I’ve been trying to make time, but…”

“But what Max? You keep saying you’re trying, but you’re never here. There's always an excuse.”

“I’m really sorry, I’ve been working so hard this season...I thought I could make it work, I just…”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear more excuses right now. You’ve missed something important to me again, and it hurts. I needed you here, and you weren’t.”

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy, almost unbearable. Max could feel the pain that you were struggling to mask, like a knife twisting in his gut. It cut him deeper than any criticism he’d ever faced on the track.

“Please. I know I messed up, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“Make it up to me? I don’t even know if that’s possible anymore. This wasn’t like the other times when you just forgot or lost track of time; you made the choice not to come. I’ve tried to be understanding... I know how hard this season has been, and I know how much time and dedication it takes. I never wanted to undermine that. But I don’t know how much longer we can do this. I get it, you have to make tough choices sometimes, and I’ve done my best to support you, to step back and let you focus on your goals. But it’s happening too often now and it feels like every time, you’re choosing this… this life over us. Over me. Every single time.”

Max’s throat tightened. He wanted to argue, to explain more, but he also knew that he couldn't keep making excuses for his absence, and he couldn’t bear to hurt you anymore. He’d run out of explanations, out of promises he knew he couldn’t keep.

He wanted to say something, anything to fix it, but he could hear the finality in your voice. You’d reached a breaking point, one he’d seen coming but had been too afraid to acknowledge.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally whispered, the words feeling hollow even as he spoke them.

The silence stretched on.

“I understand if you need space.” he murmured, barely able to get the words out, blinking back tears.

Your voice was barely a whisper throat locking up, it felt like he was giving up. Was this even worth fighting for if he wasn't?

Then, in a voice so small it broke his heart all over again, you whispered, “You’re right. Maybe space is what we need right now.'

The line went dead, leaving Max alone in the garage. The celebration of the session’s success felt hollow. The echoes of the track still rang in his ears mingling with the ache of your absence.

In the days that followed Max tried to bury himself in the upcoming races, hoping that the endless rush would drown out the regret gnawing at him. He avoided reaching out to you honouring your request for space.

Each day felt like an endless rotation of driving, media commitments, and sleepless nights. The thrill of racing was overshadowed by the growing distance between you and him.

You had always been patient and understanding of the demands of Max’s career. You had supported him through the highs and lows, celebrating his victories and comforting him through the losses, but it hadn’t been enough. Each missed call and unanswered message chipped away at your resolve. You couldn’t keep repeating the same cycles and expecting a different result.

The weekend you had planned for Max to meet your family was meant to be a milestone, a step toward a future together. Instead, it felt like a crushing disappointment.

You replayed the conversations you had with Max in your mind, trying to reconcile the man you loved with the absence he had become. You had pictured this weekend as a chance for Max to understand the importance of your family, to see the life you had outside of his world.

The hurt and frustration you felt were compounded by a growing sense of doubt, doubt that maybe this life of constant motion had created a rift too wide to bridge.

You needed time to process the hurt, to focus on yourself and figure out where to go from here. The support you had hoped for seemed distant and unreliable, and the future you had envisioned together felt uncertain.

Loving him had been a beautiful dream, but you knew it was time, you hesitated just a moment before hitting send.

Max,

I need you to know that I’m not angry anymore. I’m just… tired. I need to focus on myself right now.

Max read the message over and over, his hands trembling. The message was brief and seemingly final. The reality of your words sank in, there was no dramatic declarations, no harsh accusations, just a simple statement of exhaustion, a quiet resignation that tore through him. He wanted to call, to beg you to come back, but he knew it was too late.

As the season drew to a close, Max stood on the podium, the roar of the crowd a distant echo, his gaze searching as if somehow he’d see you there. The trophy was in his hands, but it didn't feel like he had expected. He looked out over the crowd searching for a sense of fulfilment that seemed to elude him, it all felt like ashes without you beside him.

Max only thought of you as he stood amidst the celebrations, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that in the pursuit of his dreams he had sacrificed something far more precious, and wondered if there was a path back to what he had lost.