#5:38pm

[lunchcase]

肉桂花 (Cinnamon) Oolong Milk Tea

Location: O-Tea

Price: Jesse bought it

I though the bottom part was a liquid you have to stir in but it’s actually a jelly! I can’t tell exactly what kind of jelly, but the flavour isn’t too strong - mostly a vehicle to carry the tea’s flavour, and it doesn’t taste like grass jelly. The tea itself is milky and just a touch sweet, which is nice. I think it could stand to be another touch sweeter, but I’m enjoying the hints too. Subtlety. Love that.

You have to break the jelly up because it is a solid mass taking up a third of the cup and making the liquid difficult to drink.

[housewifeswag2]

i really love you do you know that? :)

[revasserium]

hiii can i pls request zayne with prompt 60 “home”? also love ur writing btw and i look forward to reading more of ur works <333

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

60. home

zayne; 2,264 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, fade to black, zayne being a simp as per usual

summary: a friday afternoon

a/n: idk i just love writing dialogue for zayne he's so !!!!

The Hospital - Friday, 4:36PM

Linoleum floors and fluorescent lights; the smell of antiseptic, the rhythmic beeps and hums of heart rate monitors and nebulizer machines. He spends too much time here, knows the flow of the hospital like he knows the web of arteries and capillaries in the human body, the wards branching off of each other, the hustle and bustles of nurses and staff familiar, oppressive.

It is only in the quiet of his own office, with its big windows and even bigger piles of paperwork (be it virtual or physical), that he ever allows himself to relax. He glances at the vase of brightly colored tulips on his desk and allows himself a grin. He remembers the shape of you, can feel the weight of your hand in his as you’d tugged him around the farmer’s market on Sunday morning, pointing at the various vendors, asking to try a bite of this and a bit of that, until finally, you’d come across the flower seller — a middle-aged woman with a sweet smile and a gleeful glint in her eyes as she explained about the language of flowers.

“There’s sunshine in your smile,” you’d repeated, looking down at the yellow tulips before grinning up at Zayne.

“Perfect for you, isn’t it?”

He could hear the tease in your voice, see that familiar playful twinkle in your eyes and he’d raised an eyebrow before wordlessly handing over a few bills from his wallet.

And now the flowers sit, quiet save for all their brilliance, on his desk, in a simple vase filled with crystal-clear water. He stares at it for a second longer before pulling out his phone and swiping it open to your contact.

Coming home early today, he texts. Immediately, a typing bubble appears, and a second later, a short shoomp sound as your reply appears on his screen —

oh? dr. zayne leaving work early??? is the sun setting in the east today?

He chuckles to himself before dialing your line and a second later, your voice answers, a little hesitant.

“Hello?”

“If you’re going to be sarcastic, at least do it in person.”

Shuffling noises, and then — “Not my fault you’re never around for me to be mean to you in person.”

Zayne leans back in his chair with a sigh, “Hn. How’s shopping with Tara?”

“Fun! But my legs are getting tired…”

“I can meet you at the main shopping center around 5:30.”

A moment of quiet, and then “Ah… but that’s still an hour from now…”

Zayne scoffs, “I could stay till 7PM like I usually do —”

“No, no! That’s… that’s not what I meant — I’ll see you at 5:30, then? Don’t be late!”

You end the call before he can protest and for a second, Zayne stares at the screen, the picture of your smiling face fading after another few seconds as the phone screen darkens.

“Doctor? Your next patient is here,” the nurse calls through his closed door.

“Yes, I’ll be right there.” Zayne glances once more at the yellow tulips on his desk before pushing himself up and adjusting his white coat. He’ll have to make a note to change the water soon.

City Center Shopping Mall - Friday, 5:38PM

“You made it!”

Zayne turns at the sound of your voice to find you slightly breathless as you jog up to him, coming to a stop a few steps away.

“You sound surprised.”

A blush dusts your cheeks as you avert your eyes, “I — I’m not! I just thought… you might be a bit later than this.”

Zayne keeps his expression neutral even as he reaches out to take your hand, casually lacing his fingers between yours. He feels you give him a small squeeze and contents himself with letting you take the lead as the pair of you start to wander through the mall, glancing at the window displays.

“Oh… that smells good!” you both pause as the smell of scallions and garlic warms the air. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “I think it’s coming from that restaurant over there! Tara was telling me that it just opened a week ago and it’s already going viral online for their stuffed pancakes —”

“C’mon then.” Zayne starts off for the restaurant.

“W-wait! We don’t have a reservation! We’ll never get in!”

Zayne keeps walking, gently tugging you behind him till you both round the corner to see a truly impressive line outside the restaurant doors. He walks passed the massive line straight to the front where a smiling girl in a flowery apron stands at an electronic podium, taking down the names of the next party in line.

“Is Liam here?”

“O-oh! Uhm, I think so!” the girl blinks, surprised as she looks down at her reservation list, “May I ask who’s asking?”

“Zayne.”

The girl nods as she slips into the restaurant. Beside him, you look up, confused.

“Do you know someone here?”

Zayne nods but doesn’t explain any further as the smiling girl comes back and motions for you both to follow her.

“Right this way Dr. Zayne! Enjoy your meal!”

Zayne gives your hand a small tug as you stumble after him, the confusion on your face blossoming into something like surprise as the pair of you duck into the bustling restaurant to be greeted by an enthusiastic young man, around Zayne’s age, his sleeves rolled up, a bandana tied around his forehead.

“Zayne! You should’ve told me you were coming!”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Zayne supplies, shaking Liam’s hand firmly, pulling you into his side even as Liam’s eyes slide onto you.

“Oh… is this the girl you were always talking about back in —”

“I think we’ll take a booth in the back, thanks,” Zayne cuts him off with a loud cough, already making for the back of the restaurant. Liam laughs good-naturedly, leading you both to a booth tucked in the very corner, away from most of the noise and bustle.

You inch into the booth, casting Zayne a curious look.

“Is that the owner? How do you know him?”

Zayne doesn’t look up as he glances over the menu before pushing it towards you.

“We went to medical school together. Pick anything you want, it’s all very good.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “And he decided to become a chef instead?”

Zayne’s lips twitch, “Is that so unbelievable?”

You shrug, looking down at the menu at last, pursing your lips, “No… it’s just… did he drop out of med school then?”

Zayne shakes his head, “No, he was one of the best in our year.”

“Oh. Then…?”

Zayne taps the menu, “I thought you were hungry.”

You blush, looking down, “I am!”

It’s not till the middle of the meal that Zayne speaks again —

“He said it didn’t make him happy.”

You look up, your cheeks bulging with food. Zayne watches you swallow with a concerted effort, reaching out to wipe at your lips with an indulgent smile even as you swat at his hand.

“Liam? About… being a doctor?”

“Yes. And… in a way, I understood him. He said that the kitchen’s always felt more like home.”

You purse your lips, looking at your half-eaten stuffed pancake.

“Then… does the hospital feel like home? To you?”

Zayne chuckles, leaning forward to add some more veggies to your bowl with his chopsticks.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then…” you trail off, waiting for his answer. There’s a familiar color seeping into your cheeks as Zayne looks you over before his eyes flicker down to your bowl.

“Eat. Or else the veggies will go cold.”

Zayne’s Apartment - Friday, 7:01PM

“I’m so full!” you slump down onto his couch with a long sigh, patting your stomach.

“You were the one who wanted seconds of dessert,” Zayne says, hanging up his coat and turning to join you on the couch. You make a small noise as he lifts your legs and lays them across his lap, his thumbs absently digging into the backs of your calves.

“Ow…” you make to jerk your leg away as he hits a knot but he only grips your ankle and pulls it back with a soft tut.

“Hold still.”

You bury your face in one of the couch cushions as he continues to silently knead at your calf muscles.

“There, better?” his voice is soft now, tugging on the frayed ends of your subconscious as you turn your head to blink at him, a bit dazed.

“Yeah… lots better. Thanks.”

You make to get up but he loops an arm around your back and lifts you easily from the couch, bridal style.

“Zayne?”

“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, even as he makes for the bedroom.

“I — I am?”

He glances down at your face as he sets you down on his bed.

“I can still drive you home if you want —” He makes to pull away.

“No! I — I can stay. I mean — I want to stay.” You reach up to tug at his shirt, fingers crumpling the material as he stills. You can feel your cheeks blazing as his gaze flickers over your face before settling on your lips.

“Alright then.”

There’s a breath’s pause before you give his shirt another tentative tug and he tips forward with the motion, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

A soft groan bubbles out of you as Zayne presses you back and back and back, until he’s caged over you, trailing hot lips down the line of your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.

“Mm — Z-Zayne…?”

He pulls back, his eyes a bit unfocused as he looks you over — you can feel the weight of his gaze as it flutters over the planes and ridges of your face, from the arch of your brows to the line of your nose. You can’t help blushing beneath this intense scrutiny, and you tug once more at his shirt, your fingers somehow having inched up to his collar, one of your fingers hooked into the top loop of his buttons.

He reaches up to cover your hand with his, fingers easily curling around your smaller hand.

“What is it?”

You lick your lips, stomach twisting, the base rumble of his voice sending shivers shaking through your body.

“Nothing just… I don’t remember you drinking at dinner so…”

He leans down to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand before dropping it back to his shirt collar.

“No, but… alcohol’s not the only thing that might cause someone to lose hold of their senses…”

You watch as his eyes darken at your intake of breath, the way his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Then…” you swallow, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his lips trail back up your neck to your jaw.

“Are you going to make me say it?”

You let out a tiny whimper as he presses a leg up between yours, his breath now hot against the lobe of your ear.

“Say… what?”

Zayne pulls back just far enough to cock an eyebrow at you. And like this, you’ve never seen anything so alluring — the sight of him with his shirt tugged open, his eyes blown dark with desire, his hair slightly mussed from your eager fingers, his lips kissed pink, his cheeks warm with color.

“Hn. Is this my punishment then?”

“For what?”

“For being late to meet you.”

You fight back a grin, “Well… you did say I could be mean to you in person.”

Zayne lets out a sigh, “Alright then.”

You walk your fingers up his chest before pushing him back till you’re both sitting up again. He waits patiently for you to push him down and straddle his hips, slowly tugging open the buttons of his shirt, loosening his tie till it hangs undone around his neck. You lean in to press a soft kiss to his chest and revel in the way he hisses.

His fingers reach up for your hips and you catch them with a quick shake of your head.

“No touching… not till I say.”

Zayne stares at you for a second before relaxing and letting his hands fall back onto the sheets.

And it’s not until you lean down to kiss at his exposed abdomen that he groans, head tipping back. Then, a second later, you find yourself pinned beneath him, breathless, Zayne towering over you with parted lips, the moon casting stark shadows along the lines of his face.

“I said you could be mean… I didn’t say I wouldn’t retaliate.”

After, when the pair of you are curled into each other like pieces of jigsaw puzzle that’s finally found its missing parts, his breath warm along the nape of your neck, Zayne finds himself smiling.

“It’s always been you…” he murmurs, though he’s nearly certain you’re already asleep, your breathing sweet and level, your body pliant and perfect against his.

He laces his hands between yours and drops a soft kiss onto the skin of your bare shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter what I do… or where I do it… because my home has always been… you.”

[k-atsukibakugou]

WHAT UP MERCURY

For that birthday bash, could I get that blowjob shot with Kirishima please and thank you! 💛~

eeeee thank you! i'm so sorry i was so long with this but i hope you enjoy nonetheless <3 birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

eijiro was punctual, prompt, showing up at least 15 minutes early for his shifts (only 8 minutes on his worst day), the exact opposite of you. living closer to the restaurant than him, you still somehow managed to spawn countless grey hairs out of his skull, and at least a handful of heart convulsions every time you'd show up seconds before your shift would begin. knowing your routine, when you offhandedly mentioned needing a ride tonight, eijiro jumped at the opportunity; a little to make sure you'd be at the event on time, but mostly to have this time alone with you, to admire you while he had the chance before you'd both be worked off your feet for the night.

event nights, despite the tips, were his least favourite nights; both of you ending up too busy to flirt by the bar, to run into each other in the freezer, or for his hands to brush by your hips when you both met in front of the kitchen. instead, eijiro wouldn't even have time to admire you from across the bar.

→ KIWI 8:37PM i'm downstairs x

← THE PERSONALITY HIRE 8:37PM fuck i'm not ready yet, come up?

→ KIWI 8:38PM still in 6?

← THE PERSONALITY HIRE 8:39PM 6, door's unlocked x

with a dazzling smile, eijiro slides his phone back into his pocket, glancing up to the third floor, to the light shining from behind sheer curtains, your silhouette moving frantically behind it, the shape distorting when a gentle breeze blew through the half-open window. he wants to stand here longer, to watch you at your most you, when you don't know he's admiring you. you're so alluring when you flirt back, getting his pants tight and palms sweaty with perfectly placed lingering touches on his shoulders, but when he can stare at you without you watching, when you smile without a concern in the world, it drives him insane. tearing himself away, he finally makes his way toward the entrance of your building, climbing the stairs two at a time, pausing in front of the metallic 6, the numeral gleaming under the hallway lights.

it's unlocked, he knows, he knows he's welcome to come in, and still he knocks, a gentle tap of his knuckles just beneath the number screwed into the wood, crossing the threshold without permission almost like crossing an unspoken line in the sand, separating workplace crush from something else entirely.

"coming!"

his heart skips a beat hearing your voice, like he hadn't worked by your side for nearly three years. after only a second, the door swings open. you're barefoot, clad in a low-cut shirt, a sliver of deep red lace peeking out from the neckline — your signature event outfit, the implication of what more was beneath raking you in tips. another reason for eijiro to hate events, the way your cleavage sat threatening to ruin his respectful guy reputation with you, threatening to ruin the friendship he'd built with you.

"kiwi! i only need 5 more minutes," leaving the door open, you rush back inside, frantically rushing around the apartment, tossing random objects beside your tote bag; a lipgloss, a perfume, sanitiser, water bottle, and a pair of shoes flying out of your bedroom door.

stepping through the doorway of your home, he glances towards your open bedroom door, spotting a mess of pillows, sheets, blankets and clothes strewn atop of the unmade bed, a sleep shirt and lacy pair of panties at the foot of your bed. carmine eyes linger on your underwear a little too long, too long for him to pretend his blood wasn't rushing in his ears.

"time for a quick drink?" your voice makes him jump, deep garnet eyes jolting back toward you in the kitchen, his blood rushing further south when you bend down, his gaze trained directly down the front of your shirt when you reach for two tall, thin shot glasses.

you're already pulling out the liquor, an eyebrow quirked and eyes glimmering when his eyes meet yours once more, his gentleman reputation already beginning to crumble after only minutes.

why did he agree to this. to being alone in your apartment with you. he's so used to being shoulder to shoulder behind the bar, too busy to do anymore than flirt with a wink across the restaurant, so close, but the possibilities so far away. now, here, with you, his knees weakening almost as much as his resolve with every second ticking by, and he was still across the room from you, only feet from your bedroom. from the discarded lace.

"might make the shift bearable." you giggle, unscrewing the cap to the amaretto when eijiro responds with a nod, certain his voice wouldn't be anything above a hungry growl, giving away all he tried to hide. pouring the amaretto and irish cream into the tall glasses, turning around to fish your whipped cream from your fridge as eijiro settles onto a stool across the counter from you, again taking his chance to admire you, your thighs and ass too tempting under the low light.

clearing his throat, he adjusts himself on the stool, gently tugging on his collar when you squirt the finishing touch on top of the glasses, swiping through the sweet cream with your ring finger, sucking it clean between your perfect lips. you have to be doing this on purpose, his cock pulsing against his briefs when your tongue pokes out to catch a stray remnant at the corner of your mouth.

while his eyes are busy taking in the shape of your lips, the curve of your throat as his deep red gaze strays further south, until he's nearly staring directly down your shirt. while eijiro's busy drinking in the sight of your cleavage, he doesn't expect to see is you, leaning over the bench to slide him the shot, staying with your chest parallel to the granite as he grips the glass in a large hand.

watching you with wide eyes, eijiro tracks your every move; your fingertips tapping against the counter, the way your tongue flicks out from your lips to lick the whipped cream from the top of the shot glass, tracing along the rim with the tip of your tongue, sucking it from the top of the drink before bobbing your head back down again, this time taking the shot glass between your lips, pursing your lips around it before you stand back up, tilting your head back, swallowing down the liquor with your hands still planted firmly on the counter, eijiro's eyes nearly turning black watching you.

a sliver of cherry iris remains unswallowed by his pupils, eyes glistening as his blood pumps, all logical thought fading from his mind, replaced by the image of you ahead of him, swallowing down the shot, the sliver of your bra poking out, the panties he can still see out of the corner of his eye, the glint in your eye.

"how pissed do you think bakugou would be if we called in sick right now?"

[spaceshipellie]

we were never just friends

ellie williams x reader

summary: modern au, ellie and reader are in their mid twenties. ellie and reader have been friends for years. their friendship has always been a little bit flirty but nothing has ever happened between them, not like that. well, not yet anyway…

warnings: not much for this part, implied smut (minors dni)

an: there will be more parts coming (potentially 4?) and i have a feeling it’s going to be toxic and messy but have a happy ending (depending on who’s perspective you’re looking at 👀) so sorry but i’m feeling unhinged!

part one (part two, part three, part four)

you had been friends with ellie for years and your friendship had always been somewhat flirty but nothing had ever happened between you and you didn’t really expect it to at this point.

sure, when you were single, seeing ellie flirt, and kiss, and touch other girls made your stomach twist a bit but that didn’t mean anything, right? she was your best friend and you shouldn’t feel jealous. you always excused your feelings away by telling yourself it was just your anxious attachment talking. if something was going to happen between you and ellie it would have happened by now, and did you even want to risk fucking up your friendship?

whatever it was, it didn’t matter. you and kate had been together for 6 months now and things were good, you were happy.

it was 5:38pm on a friday evening and you and kate had a table booked for dinner at 7pm. you were sat on the floor applying your makeup, music blasting through your speaker, hyping yourself up.

you’d felt a bit lousy lately. nothing major just your clothes felt weird, it felt like you could never get your hair right, that kind of thing. you were excited for a night with your girlfriend, thinking it would make you feel better. your phone flashed beside you with a text.

kate 🩵

6:12pm

can’t wait for tonight baby, i’ll pick you up at 6:45 xx

you replied.

me too, see you soon xx

there were clothes thrown all over your bedroom floor from trying to find something to wear. once you’d settled on something you checked your phone. 6:43pm. kate would be here any minute. you sat on your sofa waiting, getting lost in thought when your apartment intercom buzzed. you buzzed her in and opened the door when you heard a knock.

“you look gorgeous,” kate said, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“thanks, baby. so do you,” you smiled at her. she grabbed your hand and led you to the car. you mostly drove in a comfortable silence to the restaurant as it wasn’t far.

you were now sat at your table, opposite kate, sipping on your wine and enjoying the food. you talked about how your days had been and laughed about random inside jokes you had.

“so,” kate started, “how would you feel about going on holiday together? i was thinking we could go to california or something.”

a wave of excitement came over you.

“oh my god, i’d love to.”

“great, we can have a look and work it out in the next couple of days.” kate beamed at you and put her hand on your knee under the table. you leaned over and kissed her.

after you’d finished dinner you went back to kate’s place. you both kicked your shoes off as soon as you got inside and with giddiness from the holiday proposal and the wine you had drunk, you flung your arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a slow, giggly kiss. her hands went to your waist as she held you close, walking you both slowly towards the bedroom. you were pushed up against the door for a second whilst she blindly searched for the handle.

“i love you,” you breathed out.

she smiled against your lips, “i love you too.”

the door opened and you both fell into the room, clumsily making your way towards the bed.

˚ · • . ° .

you were lying on your back in kate’s bed, feeling sweet and sleepy. you were both naked and she was fast sleep, her arm dangling across your stomach. you slowly slipped out, being careful not to wake her as you threw on a large t-shirt and some underwear and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen. the clock said it was nearly 1am and you saw you had a message.

ellie 👽

11:27pm

there’s a band playing at hazy tomorrow night, you free?

hazy was kind of like yours and ellie’s go to bar. it had the coolest decor, it was mostly queer people who went, and they always had good music on. you replied.

12:49am

yeah definitely

you took another sip of water before going back to bed, kate still fast asleep.

you both didn’t wake up until about 10am, groaning and stretching as you did so.

“morning babe,” you heard a soft grumble from behind you. you turned to see her sleepy face looking at you.

“morning,” you smiled, “i’ll make us some coffee.”

you got up and made your way into the kitchen, leaning against the counter whilst the coffee machine did it’s thing.

ellie 👽

9:34am

cool, they’re meant to start playing at 8

what you doing today?

you

10:10am

i’m free this afternoon if you wanna hang out earlier?

you took the coffees back to bed, handing one to kate who had put some clothes on. she thanked you, taking a sip.

ellie 👽

10:14am

i can come over at 3?

you

10:15am

yeah sounds good, see you later

you saw her like your message before you put your phone down, taking a sip of coffee.

“what time are you working again?” you asked kate.

“12, so need to get ready soon,” she drew small, lazy circles on your bare thigh as you sat cross legged next to her. “you doing much today?”

“i’m gonna go home and tidy up a bit, then ellie’s coming over. there’s a band playing at hazy tonight so we thought we’d go.”

“oh nice, sounds like a good day,” she said, smiling at you.

you finished your coffees and you scrolled through tiktok as you watched kate get ready for work, before eventually getting ready to leave yourself.

“text me when you get home, love you,” she said, giving you a quick kiss before getting into her car.

“i will, love you.” you waved bye and put your headphones in to walk home. it was about a 20 minute walk but you liked walking, it was a good opportunity to listen to music and daydream.

once home, you quickly messaged kate that you were home safe and then sighed as you dropped your bag onto your bed, taking in the mess you’d made last night.

“fuck sake,” you mumbled, starting to lazily fold everything up and put it away. throwing a few things in a haphazard pile to go in the laundry. after that was done you took a shower and put on some fresh clothes. you didn’t even realise the time when your apartment intercom buzzed. you heard ellie’s voice say “hey, it’s me” before you buzzed her in. you opened the door before she could even knock.

“hey.”

“hey, i brought some food if you’re hungry,” she said, dumping the shopping bag on your kitchen counter. it looked like it had your favourite crisps/chips, some salsa, some strawberries, bottles of coke and a couple other snacks.

“oh thanks,” you smiled. she was wearing a t-shirt underneath a button up shirt with the sleeves pushed up, exposing her tattooed forearms.

you got out a couple of plates and started emptying the snacks onto them. ellie leaned on the counter, watching you until you handed one to her.

“thanks.”

you both sat on the sofa, your legs bumping into each other and you subconsciously moved over slightly so you weren’t touching. it felt like you shouldn’t really be sat that close, even though it wasn’t a big deal. out the corner of your eye you couldn’t tell if you could see a small smirk on her face or not.

you put on a random true crime documentary you’d been watching whilst you ate, even though you were barely listening to it as you talked.

“–it was fucking hilarious,” ellie laughed hard, her head going back, as she recounted when you had massively embarrassed yourself in a karaoke incident last week with dina when the three of you had gone out.

“god it was so embarrassing,” you held your head in your hands, laughing but your cheeks had heated up with the flashbacks.

“that was probably one of the drunkest i’ve ever seen you, and i’ve seen that a lot,” she grinned at you, getting a kick out of how flustered you were.

“fuck you, stop,” you giggled, playfully shoving her. her hand instinctively flying up to yours, grazing it before you took it back. you both just looked at each other for a moment, still smiling at the memory.

“you wanna carry on playing that video game?” she asked. you said yes and took the plates to the kitchen whilst she set it up on your tv. video games were one of the things you and ellie had first bonded over when you met and you’d always played them together ever since. you both had intense game rage so pretty much no matter what game you were playing, whether it was a horror game or a fucking gardening simulator, you’d both always be yelling out curses and generally just being loud. you obviously played a lot of multiplayer games, but sometimes you’d play singer player games and just watched each other.

you also both accidentally became very touchy. as in you’d be sat close enough together that your thighs touched. this was just so that you could both see the screen clearly. obviously. you’d be able to shove each other with your shoulders constantly, or if there was a jumpscare you’d scream and your hands would rush to grab each other. you didn’t mind. it had always been this way between you.

you played the game for a couple hours, becoming entirely engrossed in it. it was called it takes two and essentially, it was about two parents getting a divorce and after they tell their daughter, she plays with two dolls who look like her parents and pretend they’re not splitting up. the parents then turn into these tiny dolls and they have to put their differences aside in order to work together to get back to normal. it was hilarious and frustrating.

“what the fuck are you doing!?” ellie yelled.

“i’m trying to jump onto this thing.”

“no no you need to pull that lever first.”

“i fucking did!”

“well i can’t fucking move so you need to push it the other way.”

“you’re the one who told me to do it this way!”

“no i didn’t!”

“ellie… yes you did!”

she snickered at you. “whatever, just move it again.”

“my god, so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, jokingly.

“what was that?” she joked, nudging your arm, pretending she didn’t hear you.

“i said,” you looked at her, “you’re being bossy.”

your eyes were playful and the corners of her mouth fought against a wide smile. it took her brain a second to register a response. she looked back at the screen, and shook her head, not being able to come up with anything clever.

“just fucking do it.”

you smirked to yourself for winning that mini dispute, but did what she said and pushed the lever the other way so her character could move. you played for a while longer before you paused and checked the time.

“i need to get ready.”

“okay, we should probably order some food, what do you feel like?”

“pizza?” you said, heading towards your bedroom, ellie absentmindedly following you as you talked.

“cool, i’ll order some.”

“thanks, i’ll transfer you half of whatever it is.”

“no you don’t need to,” she said, leaning against your bedroom door frame as you raided through a draw.

“you never let me pay,” you huffed.

she just laughed, watching you faff around your room. eventually, you picked out a different top, not bothering to change your jeans. ellie was still leaning on the door frame, but was looking at her phone.

you ripped your top off, leaving you in just a bra and you applied some more deodorant. you didn’t really think much about changing in front of ellie, you’d known each other long enough that you’d both done it before. you probably wouldn’t if you were getting completely undressed, but it was just your top. besides, she probably wasn’t even paying attention. you didn’t notice her sneaking a quick glance at the line going down the middle of your back. you put the new top on and grabbed your makeup bag.

“how long does it say the pizzas gonna be?” you asked. ellie moved to sit on the end of your bed, leaning back until she was supporting her weight on her forearm, her knees dangling off the edge.

“about 10 minutes.”

“cool.”

she watched as you put make up on. silently admiring how much care you took with each step. you were sat on the floor with your back to her but caught her eye in the mirror. it made you a bit nervous for some reason.

“what are you doing?” you laughed.

“watching how the fuck you do all of that,” she mused.

“it’s not that hard, i pretty much just do the same look every single time anyway,” you said, patting blush on your cheeks with your fingertips.

“it’s still fun to watch,” ellie said, pulling out her phone again. when the pizza arrived, she answered the door for them. you ate, finished spritzing yourself with perfume and pulled your converses on.

“let’s go.”

˚ · • . ° .

you arrived at hazy about 10 minutes before the band were due to start playing. you could see them in the corner, finalising their set up. it was busy inside and ellie put her hand on your lower back to guide you through the crowd towards the bar.

“hey guys,” nadine, the girl behind the bar greeted you both. as you and ellie came here a lot, they all knew you. “what can i get for you?”

ellie looked at you and gestured for you to order first.

“i’ll have a corona, please,” you said and ellie said she’d have the same, whilst reaching into her back pocket to get her card out.

“no, els, i’m paying,” you grabbed her hand tightly to stop her and quickly tapped your card on the machine. nadine chuckled to herself and handed you both your drinks.

ellie laughed and rolled her eyes at you as you weaved your way through the crowd to a free table near where the band were just starting to introduce their first song.

you both sipped your drinks and watched them perform, subtly swaying a little to the beat in your chair.

“they’re really good,” ellie leant over to say in your ear, you could hardly hear each other otherwise.

“yeah, really good.”

after a couple more songs had been played you got up to go the bathroom. on your way back you got some more beers.

“thanks babe,” ellie said as you placed one in front of her. she didn’t do it a lot, but she’d always occasionally called you babe. you were sure it was just a flippant nickname but you couldn’t help but enjoy it every time.

˚ · • . ° .

it was well into the night now and you were both drunk and dancing, along with most of the people in here. ellie wasn’t much of a dancer but she had no problem holding your waist as you swayed to the music and holding your hand when you laughed and span around, accidentally falling into her. your free hand landing on her shoulder to steady yourself and she laughed at your clumsiness.

it took you a minute to realise how close you had gotten, bodies practically against each other, but you made an attempt to compose yourself.

“you okay?” she asked. her hand felt hot on your waist.

“yeah,” you leaned in closer to her ear so she could hear you, “i’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”

she let you go as you stumbled through the dancing bodies. after peeing, you washed your hands and leant on the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. you were having a fun night with ellie as always but you were also aware that you were getting to that flirty stage of being drunk so you silently ordered yourself to pull yourself together before exiting the bathroom.

you could see a girl talking to ellie. she’s pretty, you thought. you slowly made your way over there, not wanting to interrupt but also not wanting to be suddenly left alone. as you got closer you could see the girl’s face drop and she left.

“who was that?” you asked, taking your drink back from ellie.

“just a girl asking for my number.”

“oh yeah? did you give it to her?”

“no,” she said, and you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of embarrassment flash through her eyes.

“why not?”

“i didn’t want it.”

“but she’s cute?”

“yeah, well. i’m here with you so,” she smiled at you, licking her lips and tilting her head slightly.

you tried and failed to stop yourself from smiling so wide. “you’re such a loser, ellie.”

˚ · • . ° .

you stumbled home with ellie after you’d offered for her to crash on your sofa. you hauled a spare duvet out from a cupboard and laid it on the sofa for her. she flopped down, lying on her back, mumbling out a thanks. you were going to take a glass of water to bed with you so you poured her one as well, spilling it slightly as you put it down on the floor next to her.

“oh fuck,” you giggled, “never mind.”

“thanks,” she said, looking up at you. you smiled before shuffling off to bed.

you heard her call out, “night babe.”

you yelled a “night” back and flung yourself onto your bed, making feeble attempts to remove your makeup before stripping off and slipping under the covers.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

an: so as i said before, this will probably have multiple parts, i hope you enjoyed part one! also, i’m from the uk so if any info about travelling around the us is wrong, my bad, and hazy is a made up bar so if that’s a real place, that’s purely a coincidence and it’s not based on it. anyway, let me know what you think of this so far, i’m really excited for it💜💜

[kumkissed]

Homebody Reader x (Pouty)PlugOny

"Ma, why you always locked up in this house?" Ony quips as he enters your apartment, finding you seated against your couch watching one of your shows. He looks over at the TV, shaking his head with a smile as he notices you're watching one of your K-dramas. "Ain't nothing better than being in the comfort of your own home baby.”

Ony pouts at your response eyeing your place, clean and comfy just how you like it. The scent of vanilla flushes his nose as he gets closer to you, eventually laying his head on your lap “But ma, I want you to come ride wit me for this drop.” You chuckle, caressing his face while still watching your show “Boy you know I don’t do that shit, better act like you got some sense.”

He sucks his teeth, making you raise your brown hand harshly grabbing his face “We got a problem baby? You know better pa.””Nah ma, we good m’sorry.” You release his face, focusing your attention back to your show. Ony swears his dick is about to jump out of his sweats, he attempts slide his tatted hand down pants before he’s stopped by a soft voice “don’t even think about it pa, we gone handle it later.” Before he can even respond he gets a notification—

Connie(5:38pm): Tf u doin, get ur ass down here bro

A small whine escapes Ony, as he rises up off of you getting his stuff together “Ma, cmon plea—“Ony…you know I don’t like that trap shit.” You get up, pulling him into a hug placing kisses all over his face “Mmcht, you jus tryna stay up in this house.” He mumbles causing you too chuckle “That too pa, but once you get back I’ll have a treat for u baby I promise.” Ony smiles pearly whites shinning against his chocolate skin, he gives you a kiss before heading to the door “Alright ma, you promised me that shit too.” With that he leaves, leaving you to prepare his treat for while he’s on the road.

Me(5:46pm): [ Sent image ]

Me(5:46pm): For u pa 🩵

You receive a message back immediately

onyy🖤(5:46pm): When I get back that shit is mine ma.

You chuckle placing your phone down on the couch, continuing your show, enjoying the comfort of your home.

✯

first post still figuring out layouts, thinkin abt focusin I’m on this trope! Ty for readin babes

[stealanity]

playlist one , the boyz ( cch to src ) :

⠀

ꕤ choi chanhee ,

the so-called boyfriend ( smau , hiatus )

better

yarrow

cry for me

strawberry flavor

⠀

[ 8:42pm ]

[ 10:42pm ]

[ 11:12pm ]

[ 5:25am ]

⠀

ꕤ ji changmin ,

you did well

lying eyes

first love

dream of you

dream of you ( part two )

⠀

[ 10:32pm ]

[ 2:24am ]

[ 6:17am ]

[ 6:14pm ]

⠀

ꕤ ju haknyeon ,

our secret little date

⠀

[ 12:24pm ]

[ 8:23pm ]

[ 9:36pm ]

⠀

ꕤ kim sunwoo ,

color palette ( smau , finished )

game over ( ft. eric , written serie , discontinued )

you're save

late night kiss

a to z being your boyfriend

old toy

new toy

ghost train

just friends

easier

unashamedly

⠀

[ 3:47am ]

[ 3:45am ]

[ 9:45pm ]

[ 6:38pm ]

[ 11:57pm ]

[ 11:25pm ]

⠀

ꕤ sohn eric ,

endless race ( smau , finished )

game over ( ft. sunwoo , written serie , discontinued )

age of love

broken night

never be you

roulette to your heart

because of you

black hair & red lipstick

all over

one bed

birthday present(s)

⠀

[ 3:22pm ]

[ 2:56pm ]

[ 2:24pm ]

[ 2:04am ]

⠀

ꕤ ot-eleven ,

sorry, for breaking your heart ( written serie , hiatus )

kiss or kill? ( one shot )

the boyz as the vamps' songs

october 19 : international kiss your crush day

kiss their s/o for the first time

their s/o asking them for one last kiss

their s/o having a habit of sitting on their lap

their s/o being drunk

their s/o cutting their hair short

their s/o holding hands when they're anxious / clingy

their crush not being touchy

always having an extra scrunchie for their s/o

watching a horror movie with their s/o

sharing a bed with their s/o for the first time

accidently outing their relationship on vlive

⠀

. . . link to hyung line !

[2-dsimp]

—————————————

Popular choice✨

—> [Go along with Childe]

—————————————

Current time: 5:38pm

—————————————

Congrats!

You’ve managed to keep the peace so far by keeping Childe at bay and there’s been some progress on the trek towards the red ones hideout!

——————————/—/————————————Karate club leader! Childe is currently stable and is calmed by your presence leaving you with some ample reprieve! However, he is still not reassured from what had transpired earlier with you and Occult club leader Chongyun.

Current Affection lvl: 100 {+10}

Envy 0/50% < -5> // Insanity 22/50% < +2 >

Trust lvl: 40/100 (+-0)

—————————————

🚨MAIN MISSION QUOTA 🚨

——————————/—/—

《Your main priority as of right now is to Keep the peace between your party members and reach the Red ones hide out first! 》

____________________

【The goal of finding the other 4 admirers who’ve spotted you with Occult club leader! Chongyun has been put on hold until you reassure your first target Karate club leader Childe!】

——————————/—/————

Completion: An item, skill set level up!, Razor’s Ally rank up!, and Side missions

Failure:???

——————————/—/—

⚠️WARNING ⚠️ You are lagging behind Sports club Leader! Gorou & Delinquent gang Leader! Itto! They’ve seem to have taken the lead!

⚠️WARNING ⚠️ Discipline committee member! Heizou has befriended Karate club member! Razor due to their mutual interests and seem to have something planned together…

——————————/—/—————————————

☣️ IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED☣️

Discipline committee member! Heizou and Razor seem to be concluding with each other! And Razor beckons you to join them, and you ALONE, to discuss something. Since Childe is passive at the moment you could risk leaving his side for a little bit but he’s still quite sensitive to change!

——————————/—/————————————

Objective: choose your priority

——————————/—/—————————————

—> [Stay by Childe’s side]

—> <Bring along Childe and head towards them>

—> (Group up with everyone for a game plan)

—> {join Heizou and Razor}

—> <Tell everyone to pick up the pace!>

——————————/—/—————————————

helpful inquiries ✨

[daceydeath]

Stray Kids Masterlist

All works are categorized by what they contain some works are not suitable for minors to interact with these are marked as 🔞. Please heed all warnings at the start of each piece and do not interact with any post you are not comfortable with.

Genres:   Fluff: 🧁   Angst: 🥀  Suggestive: 🍑  Smut:💦  Comedy:  🎪  Romance: ❤️ Supernatural: 🌙 Mafia: 💣 Strictly 18+: 🔞 Fantasy: 🦄

Reactions:

When you are on your period 🧁🎪 Picnic Dates  🧁❤️ Helping you when your sad 🥀🧁❤️ When you go into labor 🧁🎪  When you fall and hurt yourself dancing 🧁🥀❤️ Hyung Line, Maknae Line

Individual Members

Bang Chan Gentle Saviour 🧁 🥀 🍑  6:02am 🔞❤️💦 I Didn't Know you Were Filming 🧁❤️🎪 12:02am - Payback 🔞❤️💦 3:45am - Comfort 🧁 🥀❤️💦🔞 Why 🥀 Try Again? 🥀 🧁 ❤

Lee Know 7:15am 🥀  8:55pm 🧁❤️ 💦🔞    Minho 🔞💦❤️ While you are Sleeping 🔞💦❤️ (Ft Han) 11:26pm - Silk Ties🔞💦❤️ 2:21pm - Shopping Trips 🔞💦❤️

Seo Changbin 4:46pm - Personal Trainer ❤️💦🔞 9:57pm - My Treat 🔞💦❤️ (Ft Hyunjin) 5:35pm - Caught Out 🔞💦❤️ Claims 🔞💦❤️

Hwang Hyunjin 12:54pm 🧁🥀 10:50pm - The Award Show🔞💦❤️ 9:57pm - My Treat 🔞💦❤️ (Ft Changbin) Poor Decisions 🔞💦❤️

Han Jisung 4:45am 🔞💦❤️ While you are Sleeping 🔞 💦 ❤️ (Ft Lee Know) Alcohol and Alleyways 🔞 ❤️ 💦 Lazy Mornings 🧁❤️ Not Like This 🥀 ❤

Lee Felix Cuddle Bug 🧁 11:38pm 🔞❤️💦 One Time Only ❤️🔞💦 (Ft Jeongin) Felix 🔞❤️💦 Coffee & Cookies 🧁❤️ (M reader) Club 143 ❤ 🥀 🍑 🔞 💦 (long read)

Kim Seungmin 3:25pm 🧁🥀 9:02pm 🧁 The Next Step 🧁❤️🔞💦 11:42am ❤️🔞💦 That Fine Line Between 🥀❤️🔞💦 Morning Photographs 🧁❤️🔞💦 Oblivious 🧁 ❤️ 🍑

Yang Jeongin 1:15am🧁 ❤️ What Happens Backstage 🧁❤️🔞💦 One Time Only ❤️🔞💦 (Ft Felix) 7:45pm - Picnics in the Park 🧁 ❤️ 5:35pm [Backstage] ❤️🔞💦

[lifes-line]

In honor of the Adventure Zone and the suffering game coming out soon I’m gonna talk about the moments in The Adventure Zone that got me the most emotional

Obviously spoilers for the Adventure Zone

5. Johann the Bard’s death

This one I think caught the majority of TAZ fans off guard. Whenever an NPC died.. it was always during the events of recovering a grand relic - never after the mission. It’s like-

Johann was here. And then he wasn’t.

And most people grew very attached to Johann during the episodes and arcs of making fun of him, asking if they’re ok with being forgotten, him and his relationship with the Void Fish— and to include this with my number 5

WHEN MAGNUS AT THE END OF THE PODCAST

NAMES HIS FUCKING DOG AFTER JOHANN

OHMYGODDD

4. Meeting Lup

Now- not when Lup was freed from the Umbra-staff and called out her brother for being gay, while that was a funny as fuck moment, that’s not what I’m referring to.

It’s when we cut back to the Stolen Century and we meet Lup officially for the first time. I just remember hearing her speak for the first time and her antics and I remember being like “god.. she’s just like her brother.”

And we get to know her and it’s like- we also find out she is nothing like Taako. She’s more empathetic to people - to strangers- she’s smarter than him(like book smart) , SHES a nerd, she flamboyant and kindhearted and it’s like also-

We’ve known her forever. She was in every single adventure the boys had- she was this overwhelming presence in the entire podcast - from her name burnt into the wall, to “where’d you get that umbrella?”, to flying to Taako’s aid every time he was in trouble— she had always been a character without a name or face to her and then we she is finally formally introduced you just love her instantly.

That’s amazing writing.

3. Arms outstretched

Now this got everyone.

It was such a powerful moment between brothers and between friends- even Griffin didn’t see it coming.

He fully expect them to just let Magnus float off into the astral plane but then they change the entire plot of the story and saved Magnus and brought him back.

Taako and Merle both using a spell slot to bring back their bestfriend. Also foreshadows to their deeper connection back in their stolen century.

The music behind that scene was also fucking phenomenal it was beautiful and I loved it.

2. “You fucking took everything from me”

Ok SO- THIS ONE IS INCREDIBLE- it starts me on the same tangent every time.

In this moment Taako has fully remembered all of the events that happened before Lucretia erased their memories and he is fucking infuriated.

Because if Lucretia had not done it that day- Taako and Barry would’ve found Lup. THINK ABOUT IT - that day they were going to check Wave Echo cave- they would’ve found Lup’s corse and the red robe and the umbrella - Taako would’ve made the connection and Barry would’ve figured it out instantly and Lup would’ve been set free and back.

But because Lucretia did it they never went to WaveEcho cave and they never found her- until a decade later- Taako found her stupid and unknowing - took her umbrella and watched her skeleton decay- AND NOW HE REMEMBERS THIS

And it’s too late to go back to WaveEcho now, the fucking hunger is here and her corpse is long gone, if she was a lich barry would’ve found her by now, and if she was in Phanadalin- it was all glass now - where could she have gone?

Taako is realizing silently what Barry isn’t aware of- Lup was right there. SHE WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM- and he couldn’t find her, he couldn’t save her.

In this moment of rage Taako realizes his sister is gone. She’s never coming back. Lucretia took his everything from him.

And it’s all her fault.

1. Magnus’s death

Now. The day I finished TAZ Balance edition, at 9:38PM, I cried myself to sleep. OF COURSE I DID

“HOW DOES MAGNUS DIE?”

SURROUNDED BY HIS LOVED ONES

WITH HIS DOGS

AND MAGNUS FINALLY ENDS HIS ULTIMATE QUEST- HE SEES HIS WIFE IN THE AFTERLIFE

Magnus, rushing in to everything because he ultimately wanted to die a crazed hero so he could see his wife again but still feel like he died doing something worth it just for her, who never loved another ever during his years alive, who turned down the temptation of his own relic because if he was going to see his wife again he wanted her to be proud of him, Magnus Burnsides whose ultimate destination and goal was to see the love of his life again.

And he finally did.

Magnus got the happy ending he truly deserved.

Magnus Burnsides is the most relatable character in all of the Adventure Zone(to me at least) I love and cherished him like he was truly my friend- so when he dies at the end of the podcast I cried like I was grieving a real person.

[im-leaking]

NSFW Omorashi

Holding until 12am challenge. It is 10:23pm and I kinda have to go. I’ll drink water at 11pm to make it harder but I don’t think I’m gonna make it until 12 because I’m at maybe 4/10, it’s not bad but it’s a little distracting.

11:00pm: I don’t have to go that badly maybe at a 5/10 but drinking water… I don’t know if I can hold much longer after that…

11:10pm: finished my drink. I do kinda have to go potty.. it’s not bad but pressing on my bladder is starting to… you know.

11:18pm: I tied myself up into a harness. I’m now naked, nearly leaked a tiny bit on the bed when tying it on myself. I tried to get the one rope around my bladder as tight as possible. It’s so embarrassing, I kinda have a wedgie and my pussy is already so wet and these ropes aren’t helping.. 😣

11:24pm: my pussy looks so cute squished between the rope. My little dick is so hard too and I’m playing with myself to make it harder. Still not bursting, just really excited. If I don’t get desperate I’ll extend the time and wait.

11:30pm: watching videos of people able to get relief while playing with myself.. I nearly had a little potty accident because I’m also spreading my legs wide… I might leak even though I don’t have to pee to bad. It’s maybe a 6/10 but masturbating makes it hard… 😣😣

11:38pm: MPH! I leaked a little.. I’m at a 7/10 and pressing my bladder is really starting to take affect. This video was so hot but when the girl started going (oh it looked like she had to potty so badly) I just let out a leak as if it was time for me to start going too! I need to hold. Not much longer.

11:41pm: this video is so hot. The girls are getting vibrators on them and they’re exploding in their pants… I really wanna go tinkle.. it’s only getting worse and worse… I’m so close to cumming too but I really cannot let myself.

11:47pm: listening to water noises and doing some omo challenges. I have to lay with my legs spread for a minute and not squirm and I feel like I’m about to piss the bed. It’s at a 9/10 now easily and pressing my bladder will probably make me explode, which is the next part of the challenge. The rope on my abdomen is making it so hard.. massaging my bladder now and I leaked a tiny bit. I don’t know if I can make it.. MPH.. leaked. BIG LEAK.

11:53pm: moved to the bathroom because I am about to SOAK.. still listening to water sounds. Now I’m sitting on the toilet still naked with my harness on listening to these noises and I’m trying to not let go right now. When it hits 11:59 I’m gonna flush and wash my hands with warm water the rest of the time. Touching my bladder is making my pussy leak and mmm I have to potty so so so bad… 😣 I’m spreading my legs now and my goodness these are the longest minutes ever. It’s 11:58 now and I only have a little longer. I keep dripping and… I don’t think I’m gonna hold when washing my hands..

11:59pm: DRIPPING ON THE FLOOR BUT MY RULE IS I HAVE TO WIPE IT CROUCHED WITH MY LEGS SPREAD. WERE GONNA HVAE A REPEAT OF THAT ONE TIME..

12:07pm: I didn’t take that long cleaning up. Had a few leaks and ended up grabbing my pussy to make it stop 😣 after I cleaned it up I jumped in the tub, laid down, spread my legs and started gushing when rubbing my dick. I was squirting all over and came so good 🤤

Mission: success! I made it to 12:00am!!

[briwbb28]

SLUT!

part 1

“And I break down, then he's she’s pullin' me in

In a world of boys girls, he's she’s a gentleman”

_____

paring: paige bueckers x fem oc

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Mya has always been named as a slut to so many people because of her ex girlfriend spreading lies about her and even her having her own podcast with her best friend Lily just makes it worse because now everyone knows about her, but what if someone who didn’t care what people said about her?

_____

November 5th 2023

at 6:30pm

MYA’s POV

“It just never stops.” I laughed as I tells a story about how I got approached in public being asked if I was Jennifer Lawerence when we look nothing alike.

“Bro that’s so funny like y’all don’t even look alike.” Lily laughs as they are laughing into the mic. Lily is the only girl Mya can trust. She was the only girl who listened to her about everything that happened with her ex and her reputation going down. She was always by her side.

“Okay now that’s enough. Now let’s get into the juicy stuff.” Lily said with a weird smile which made me laugh at her weird face that she made.

“Oh no.” I said dramatically being prepared for the questions Lily was gonna ask. “Since I am here, you should tell people what happened between you and you know who.” Lily said which makes me smile at her. She knows that i wanted to address it, but I couldn’t be by myself.

“Yeah, uh so. My ex started this rumor about me saying how I cheated on her during our relationship because I always hung out with Lily and she knew that she was wrong because turns out she was cheating on me the entire time and when I found out, she blocked me on everything, and moved out of her dorm so I couldn’t see her.” I explained with a laugh at the end trying to lighten up the mood.

“and how did you find out she was cheating?” Lily asked already knowing the answer. “I got a hey girly text.” I said laughing because of Lily making a disgusted face.

“she’s just so ew.” Lily says gagging which makes me laugh and nod my head. “Anyway, let’s talk about the women’s basketball team.” Lily says wiggling her eyebrows which makes me shake my head with a smile.

“oh no.” i said throwing my head back. The women’s basketball team at UCONN were really attractive and they were really good which makes them even more attractive. Lily has been having her eyes on Nika for a long time.

“oh yes. Nika is my bae even though she doesn’t know it yet.” Lily says which makes me sigh. “Girl, you are delusional.” I said as we both laugh.

“So you are telling me you don’t find any of them attractive?” Lily says which makes me smile and just stare at her which lets her know that she is not wrong. “okay, who do you think is cute?” Lily asks which makes me sit there and think for a second.

“Paige Bueckers probably.”

November 7th 2023

at 5:46pm

MYA’s POV

Im just sitting in my room on my phone just scrolling through instagram until i get a DM out of nowhere. I go to check and my eyes went wide when i saw that Paige Bueckers DM’d me. I go to look what she said which make a blush come to my cheeks.

Paige Bueckers

oh, so you think i’m attractive? 5:47pm

Mya Courtney

maybe i do. is that a problem? 5:49pm

Paige Bueckers

no problem at all. i just wanted to

ask something. 5:31pm

Mya Courtney

and that is? 5:32pm

Paige Bueckers

go out with me? 5:33pm

Mya Courtney

is this a question or a demand? 5:35pm

Paige Bueckers

both. 5:36pm

Mya Courtney

can i think about it? 5:38pm

Paige Bueckers

take all the time you need Mya. 5:40pm

no rush. 5:41pm

it’s not like i don’t want to go out on a date with paige, but what if this is some kind of joke? or me being on her little roster she probably has? why me? she could go out with anyone if she wanted to. she has to know the kind of reputation “i have” and she definitely has heard what people have said about me, what me ex has said about me and way more.

i just laid down on my bed as i started at the ceiling as the same word is surrounding my brain. why? why? why?

[valaruakars]

Let's Get Physical (Part 7)

Viktor/F!Reader || 6.3k || Modern!AU + Gym!AU || SFW

Bitches hate you for your overzealous approach to supporting your friends and deeply anxious behavior. Viktor is not bitches.

A/N: Omg. We're here. We're back on our bullshit. Thank you to everyone who beta'd and/or provided me free therapy about this for that past um... seven months. Oops. Thank you to everyone who reached out over the (unintentional) hiatus with encouraging comments and asks. I hope you'll understand why I took so long to handle this with care and unpack some of my own issues. Very cathartic. Would recommend.

Part 1 → Part 2  → Part 3 → Part 4  → Part 5 → Part 5.2 (nsfw) → Part 6  → Part 7 (Ao3 Link)

Before you know it, two weeks and a day have passed. They make no palpable difference. 

Except maybe in your quadriceps. 

The same weights you’ve been using feel almost effortless, too easy. You don’t fatigue as quickly into heavy breathing and the urge to cheat yourself a rep or two—not lunging with the dumbbell gripped at one of its wide ends, not squatting while it’s clutched close to your chest. It’s suddenly not enough. 

Nobody’s around to see it, but progress is progress. Turns out, you’ve finally graduated to heavier weights on this lonely leg day you’ve committed to. 

That’s a bit of a misnomer, though. The day is mostly past you now. It’s evening—crisp and wispy, sky like striated fire outside the garage—and as the sun sets, you’re reminded of the late start you’re up against. All because you forgot something. 

A good attitude is optional. A scrunchie you can live without. But your shoes? Leave them forgettably kicked off in two different directions on your bedroom floor and you’re fucked. It’s a small miracle you’re here, dragging around weight plates, setting up a barbell. There was a very real danger of tripping and falling into bed—totally by accident, never to get up again—when you drove home and stomped upstairs to grab them. 

But whether or not he knows it, likely the latter, Viktor keeps you accountable when no one else can. It’s because the only running you truly love is the risk of seeing him, which still requires proper footwear. And for you to leave the house. 

Though by the time you whipped into the driveway and thrust the gear shift into park, it’s empty. He’d left already; you didn’t get to see him off on his reluctant shuffle through the garage. But lucky you—he tends to come straight home after physical therapy. Call it friendly concern that you’re paying attention. 

It’s probably an odd way to think about a friend. You need to work on that. 

Your phone vibrates dully on the padded bench beside you. Nearly knocking your water over in the process, you grab it to find a text from Jayce—the usual culprit. You slide it open, accidentally brushing the top of the screen with shaky fingers. It catapults you to the beginning of your most recent messages before you can read the new one. 

Mon, Oct 10

[Jayce Talis, 5:56am]: Did you leave the back door unlocked last night? [Jayce Talis, 5:57am]: And the pool lights on? [Jayce Talis, 5:57am]: Was Viktor in the pool?

[7:32am]: Holy shit. Good morning. [7:33am]: No, no, and why do you think I know these things??

[Jayce Talis, 7:45am]: Sorry, it’s all good. He’s alive. 

[7:46am]: ???????

[Jayce Talis, 7:49am]: You guys didn’t hang out after I left? 

[7:57am]: Idk if you would consider it that. [8:02am]: But has anyone invited him to cards on Saturday??

[Jayce Talis, 8:17am]: He already said no. [Jayce Talis, 8:18am]: Although… [Jayce Talis, 8:19am]: You could try telling him it’s strip poker. Haha :) 

[8:20am]: Blocked. Reported. Banned. NOT DOING THAT.

[Jayce Talis, 8:21am]: No wait! I was kidding. He’s not a creep :(

Tue, Oct 11

[Jayce Talis, 3:38pm]: Wait did you actually block me? 

[3:50pm]: Yes.

Sun, Oct 16

[Tayce Jalis, 8:00am]: Can I have my t-shirt back today?

[8:31am]: Oh the really old anime one? I left it with some stuff to be washed, ask Viktor. [8:32am]: Maybe the dryer did you a favor and ate it. 

[Tayce Jalis, 8:34am]: Hey! Naruto is timeless.

Today

Tayce Jalis unsent a message

Not fast enough to scroll back down, caught revisiting those unremarkable little messages, and now you’ll never know what Jayce’s butt managed to text you this time. Oh well. Keep your secrets. 

You toss your phone down behind you with a leathery slap. Back to working on the whole stop pining after Viktor thing.

Right, and your legs. 

The barbell bites into your hips as you roll it into your lap and adjust it, the bench presses into your shoulder blades. It’s heavier and harder to manage, but you do, driving down into your heels to get your ass off the ground, hefting yourself into a nice, solid bridge. From there it’s as easy as dipping your hips, which isn’t quite easy at all. No, it’s brutal. 

It burns from your core down to your thighs; has you clenching your jaw, gritting your teeth with the strain. Even your biceps are active, lifting some of the steel-hard pressure off your hip bones. 

You’re so zoned in—no thoughts, head empty except for the number six over and over until it’s seven—that you only hear the hiss of your breath in and out, the hammering rush of blood behind your ears. You don’t hear Viktor come home. 

Not until he’s standing above you.  

He had the heinous metal on metal sound in his old beige car fixed—that grinding, grating death knell in its engine. One of several potentially life threatening reasons the check engine light was always on—maybe still is. And though you much prefer him living, it’s harder to hear him coming over the steady music without paying attention. 

Bad timing for Miss Carly Rae Jepsen on your Upbeat Workout Jams playlist, considering you do really, really, really like him. Him and how he stands at the end of the bench, staring down; how he fixes you with that sliver thin smile, a manila folder tucked under the arm of his long cardigan. 

You seize with embarrassment, frozen on the upswing of your hips. “Hi,” whispers out on the end of an exhale, caught ragged in your throat. 

You can’t do pelvic thrusts in front of him. 

You just can’t. 

It’s bad enough that you’re sweaty in every skin to skin crevice and certainly flushed, t-shirt sticky and legs trembling as they hold your awkward position, but then there’s him. 

He wears that same look much better. On him, it’s healthy color across the cut lines of his cheeks; it’s still-damp curls at the nape of his neck and the jump of his lean throat when he swallows, dry when he must’ve forgotten a water bottle again. It’s suggestive. It’s hot. 

And it’s the endorphins that make you feel that way, surely, more than any affinity for men in gray sweatpants that are far more revealing than they must realize. 

You clear your throat, finding your own parched voice. “Watch your feet,” you warn, on the side of caution, dropping butt and barbell to the ground with a metallic thud. You let your head drop back against the bench pad, staring up at him with the dazed satisfaction of calling it quits. Only for the moment, of course, as you blindly feel around for your phone to turn the music down. 

And good fucking god is what you see unholy. Viktor shifts his weight before you can look away, and the ache in your core redoubles—different, deeper than any lactic acid buildup. Did his pants shrink in the wash or is it really that m—?

Nope! Absolutely not! 

You can tread no further with that thought because, really, there’s no such thing as having a platonic appreciation for your friend’s dick. Not when the friend is Viktor. 

“You’re not finished yet?” he asks. Innocent. Oblivious to your mental struggle out of the gutter. 

Typically you would be by now. Equipment racked, the citrus scent of disinfectant on your hands, picking at innocuous conversation while you walk inside together. How was your day? Did you hear they’re demolishing the old physics building? There’s a guest lecture next month that might interest you. 

“About another thirty minutes,” you breathe, “and then I’ll be done. I’m running behind.”

“Ah, interesting. That looks to me more like sitting,” he says, which is terrible enough to earn an eye roll, and snarky enough that your lips wobble and break into an insurmountable smile.

“It’s called resting, thanks. This would go faster if you stopped distracting me,” you huff, muscles loose, lips looser. 

The little spark of mirth in his eyes, so bright and awake, makes your stomach clench vice tight. “Mm. There’s no rush,” he shrugs, “but… Rio might enjoy a visit.” 

Your smile is skeptical as he pulls the file folder from beneath his arm. “Oh really?” It widens as he starts to fan you from above—chilly in the garage, but you’re still sweating buckets. It’s futile, although he’s sweet to try and help.  

He nods, gravely serious, “She told me herself.” 

You crane your neck unconsciously to let it cool the sweat that lingers there, sighing as little wisps of loose hair billow feather light and tickle your feverish skin. 

He isn’t holding it right, though. His grip is too loose on the edge.

At once, a flurry of white comes raining down on you. It’s instinct that your eyes clamp shut against the onslaught. 

“No, no, no,” he hisses as if begging could stop gravity. 

It doesn’t, of course. 

His papers flutter and scrape across the floor. An unlucky one sticks to the sweat on your scrunched up cheek. He’s quick to dip forward and snatch it back first, the easiest to reach.

You blink off the surprise and snicker, “Oh, how the tables have turned. Who’s the clumsy one now?” Rolling the barbell away over your outstretched legs, there’s nothing in its path to be crumpled beneath the weight.  

But Viktor doesn’t answer with a crooked smile or a quiet laugh, no dry wit to be found. His dark, heavy brows furrow and he insists, “No, just—just let me,” while he crouches to the ground, distributing his weight between his cane and the end of the bench. 

“It’s okay,” you insist, reaching to gather what’s scattered between you, “I’ve got it. No big deal.”

“To you,” he mutters, snatching two away before you can turn them over. Makes him lose balance. He narrowly catches himself before he can veer face first into your spandex lap,, blunt, bony fingers digging into your thigh at the hem of those skin tight biker shorts. It crushes the papers all the same. 

“Top secret nuclear codes?” you tease, drowning his muttered apologies. It sounds stupid and obvious that you’re trying to distract from the fumbling tension when his hand stays put for moments too long. Yours, too, on his shoulder to brace him. 

Just until he’s able to sit himself solidly on the ground beside you. 

He purses his lips, “My work is with reactor cores, not weapons.”

It’s only been a week since you got an impromptu lecture about nuclear fusion in the kitchen. It’s not like you’d forget so quickly. “I know—”

Impatient, Viktor reaches over your lap, too close for comfort. Whatever you were about to say is struck from your train of thought. 

His cardigan drags soft and pilled with wear across your beat up knees. Beneath it, his sweat smells sharp and strangely appealing. It’s fascinating, that draw to something so base and human. It’s unsettling, the way your heart responds like it beats between your legs.

You follow his hand, unabashedly curious, and watch him pick up another overturned paper. Below it, the next sheet is stuck face up to the floor with what you cringe to assume is a drop of your sweat, bleeding the ink of a diagram. Multiple diagrams, actually. 

Of stretches.  

The familiarity sparks excitement. 

By the time he peels up the corner of the page with his fingernail, you’re sure of what you’re looking at. It’s common ground, of a sort; the excuse to end all excuses. 

“These are from the physical therapist?” 

He sighs, sitting back in an awkward fold of spindly legs. Looks wearier, now, with his shoulders collapsed like the exhaustion of going has finally caught up. “Yes,” he admits, because you’re smart and he’s smart, and any other answer would be an obvious lie. 

You’re doing it again—digging your fingers into a soft spot that feels as ripe as it does intrusive. We do not talk about it much, he once said, but it’s hard to stop once you’ve started. You just have to know: “Do you do them?” 

His eyes cut down to the papers in his hands. “When time permits.”

“How often does it permit?” 

“Occasionally,” says Viktor, which might mean somewhere between rarely and never. 

Early mornings, late nights; classes to teach, lab hours to log, projects, papers, and a dissertation that looks done to you, but he laughs bitterly when you suggest it. Still has to find time to eat and shower and sleep, but his eyes are always restless purple and there are wrappers from meal replacement bars scattered around the house, too high calorie for Jayce to be the culprit. 

You wonder what will happen when it all catches up with him. Worse, you worry. 

Beseechingly, you reach out. Your grip is gentle as you take hold of the printouts at their edge. “Can I see?” you ask, not grabbing or pulling or taking, just there and ready. 

His lips form a tight, considering line. “If that is the last of your questions,” he slowly replies. Prickly, but relenting, he lets go before you can ever agree. 

So you don’t.  

His eyes are on you as you flip through the stack—you can feel it as a strange, shy tension like bated breath, watching and waiting. 

Page by page, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Some you’ve even done yourself, but with simple modifications. Hell, bridges are just hip thrusts performed flat on the floor, without the weight. Nothing he’d need help with, which is ideal when you’re not qualified to do anything but make space for him; to emphasize that he’s welcome and wanted, maybe offer up a sweaty-palmed high five if you’re feeling spunky. 

You peel your legs off the floor and resituate, tucking them as your turn to face him, direct in every sense. “You could come do these with us on Sunday mornings after we run, before you get started on work. It would make Jayce happy, and Vi has a really funny way of being encouraging—”

He pulls a face—a nose scrunched up, barely concealed, abso-fucking-loutely not sort of scowl. 

“Or…” you’re quick to try, “Just with me, when I’m here. It’ll take, what—fifteen? Twenty minutes?” 

“It’s a poor use of time,” he says. It’s as avoidant as it is clumsy, with a dismissive edge still dull enough to bruise. 

And that’s because: “You stop and talk to me for longer than that sometimes,” you remind him flatly.  

He sighs sharply, toying absently with the cane laid across his lap. “That is different.” He says it like it’s obvious; like it’s frustrating that you don’t know how obvious it is. 

“Well, what if we could do both at the same time?” you propose. After all, he’s got such a hard-on for efficiency, if that’s what’s stopping him. “I know you’re a good multitasker…”  

His jaw works, trapping his thoughts behind imperfect teeth. 

“And we probably keep this floor cleaner than the carpet…” you prod, because the silence of a man who can and has talked your ear off is disquieting; because you don’t always know when to stop; because this feels like a negotiation. 

“My bedroom suits my purposes just fine,” he says, eventually. 

But you never said which carpet. The thought of him sequestered in there, even for this, is fucking depressing. Arguably disgusting when you’ve walked across that rug and felt the grit of dirt, crumbs, and debris that the pattern hides through your socks. And worse: It’s a choice, so why is he making it? 

Abruptly, the rubber tipped end of his cane meets like against the rubber tiled floor. He pulls himself up on it with difficulty you can’t ignore, but shakes his head when you move to help. The only thing you do is hand him up the battered stack of papers, tucked back into the folder from which they came, when he stands up fully. You won’t hold them hostage, even if part of you wants to. It wouldn’t keep him from leaving, his back to you such a familiar sight. 

You just want to understand, though, if nothing else. To crack him like a cipher.  

Softer, you try: “I wouldn’t judge you.” It’s the last, desperate little thing you can think of. They’re like magic words to you. 

But the problem is: They don’t work on everyone. 

To his credit, his tone isn’t harsh. It’s indifferent, like stating a sterile fact. “This has nothing to do with you,” he says. “I haven’t skipped an appointment recently, and that should be enough.”

Indigence might suit you in those moments you grow a seedling backbone, but it doesn’t suit this. You can’t help it though. His frustration has bled into you, caught like kindling. “Is it?” 

“You and I do not share the same sense of priorities,” he replies, but it’s not an answer. Not really. 

The urge to turn him upside down and shake him until something definitive comes out is overwhelming—so straightforward until he just… isn’t. “If you’re not going to say yes or no, can’t you just lie and say you’ll think about it?” 

He looks you over inscrutably, sitting there in his shadow. “Why would you assume it’s a lie?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you huff. But you do. Experience and a certain friend who actually bothers to text you back have given you the answer. “Jayce says you’re stubborn and I’m starting to think he’s right.” 

Viktor nods conclusively, but doesn’t care to share what’s going through his head. As evasive as ever when he cares to be, just murmurs,“You should finish this.”

And then, for a reason that is simply beyond you, says: “I will see you later.”

But for once, you’re not sure if you want to. 

—

You rap your knuckles against his open door. 

Seriously—who were you kidding, thinking for even a second that you wouldn’t be here, doing this?

Yes, it’s well after eight now and you’re pitifully hungry, but it wouldn’t feel right to leave without saying anything. In writing a note or sending a text, you’d simply be spelling out, ‘I’m a coward!’ in far more words. It’s best, you decide, to be polite and mature and just say goodnight despite the awkward taste in your mouth that is very reminiscent of your own foot. 

And you get to say it to his back, which should be easy. 

But then there’s Rio on his desk like a pissed off paperweight, swimming the foggy side of her holding tank—sorry, prison—without any hope of escape. They’re the angriest, most pathetic wiggles you’ve ever seen. Habitual, given how tongue-smudged and abraded the plastic has become. 

“You see?” he says, gesturing to the sound of her scrabbling in his bright rubber kitchen gloves. “It’s just as I said.” 

“I think it’s more about you ignoring her.” Rio pauses, slipping down the side. Her little face conveys it perfectly: “Father is cruel? Father is… unyielding? Father hates Rio?” 

“No, no… Although, eh, yes, I suppose she does sound like that…” he muses, nodding. “I think she must wonder those things about you, actually.”

Your shoulder hits the door frame, shrugging against it where you lean. “I probably don’t matter much to her.”

There’s a heavy pause, enough for him to breathe in and hold it. Breathe out, softly: “You do.”

And suddenly, you can’t find it in you to leave. Did you ever truly have the will? 

The truth is there on your feet—those perpetually mismatched socks. You’d hoped for this, secretly, else you wouldn’t have left your shoes off at the door.  

It’s warm when you walk in. A space heater that’s been running too long glows electric orange on the floor near his desk. Makes the smell of churned earth and vinegar cleaner that much stronger. And while the clutter is clearly endemic, it seems the fuzzy, stagnant mugs are not. They’re all gone from his desk and the bedside table, replaced by sticky notes, pill bottles, and an avalanche of papers.

You come up and give Rio’s tiny, clawed foot a high-five through the plastic. “Has she been doing this all night?” you ask, looking over. 

Knee on the desk chair for leverage, he’s elbows deep in her tank, rooting those waxen, fake plants back into the substrate with unnatural posture. It’s that stiffness you’ve always noticed—ramrod straight from the mid-spine up. It’s easier to see in profile, in a thin shirt that clings to his back, that there’s nothing visibly forcing it. 

“On and off. She tires quickly now,” he says, arranging a broad-leafed plant near her favorite rocky shelter—scrubbed clean, still damp. “When she was younger, it would go on much longer while I did this.”

“How old is she exactly?” 

His sigh is almost lost beneath the hum of the space heater. He answers, “Fifteen,” in the soft, subdued way of someone who hates to be reminded. 

There’s many things you’re too afraid to ask him. Such hits as: Why did you dig yourself a hole this deep, does Jayce text everyone about you, and would I even stand a chance if things were different? But right now, most of all, it’s how long do geckos live? 

You don’t think you’re going to like the answer. 

Viktor clears his throat. “She’s very, eh… spritely for her age,” he adds, fondly this time. 

You hum a soft sound in agreement, too shaky through the legs to squat down to eye level with her. When you bend your knees to try, you realize you’ll probably never get up again. 

He glances over as you straighten up. “You can sit,” he offers without really saying where. It’s obvious, though. The only option—his rumpled bed, never made, with all its mismatched pillows. One has definitely been stolen from the couch, three are yellowed and missing pillowcases which is… ew. 

But you’re not going to refuse. You’d like to hold Rio, after all. 

You swallow hesitation and tuck yourself onto the end of his mattress, balancing on the firm edge. At least the intrusive thoughts are fleeting. Only briefly do you wonder what he thinks about at night. What he does. What he wants for.

Not you. That’s for sure.

Your elbows lock out where you grip the ridged edge of the bed. The weight of things gone unsaid, of things left unresolved bears down; it prickles warm at the back of your neck and you can’t stand the waiting silence. 

“So…” you drawl, letting your voice fill the void.

“Hm?”

“Are you going to hand her to me now, or…?”

“Ah, no, I’m finished,” he says over his shoulder. “She needs to go back in the tank.”

“Then why am I sitting here?” 

“Because I have something to ask you.”

Straightforward. Right. You forgot just how terrifying that can be. 

“That sounds just as bad as saying we need to talk,” you mutter, heart twisting into a suffocating, arterial knot. 

“We do, though,” he says, too literal, too preoccupied with placing Rio back in her clean terrarium to notice your soul leave your body—preemptively abandoning ship. 

But he’s merciful, at least. He doesn’t keep you in suspense. 

“I just want to understand at what point you developed such a vested interest in, eh… fixing me, I suppose,” he asks, like wondering what the weather will be tomorrow or what the dining hall might serve for lunch. Conversationally. “Did Jayce put you up to this?”

Your eyes narrow in thought. “No…?” you reply. It comes out too shifty as you toy with the serged edge of his blanket. Jayce put you up to something alright, though that hardly matters anymore. But, in a way, does this count? Would Viktor think that this counts?

“A sure answer, please.”

Fuck. 

“It’s just that I would lump that in as part of being friends with you—except I’d call it, y’know, caring?” You draw your leg up onto the bed, closer, tucking your foot beneath your thigh. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”

Viktor flips the grate down with a finality that lights your nerves like a beacon to flee. “So he asked you to do what, exactly?” 

“Nothing,” you squirm. 

He pivots, solidly on two feet. Doesn’t sit down in the desk chair quite yet. “It wouldn’t be the first time for this behavior, and, with you, I’m sure it was not the last. Do you know that he once provided Caitlyn with a written list of topics not to bring up to me?” 

You shrug, “He’s a good friend...” 

Now you’re staring down the barrel of being just the opposite—of throwing Jayce under the bus. 

“What did he ask?” Viktor presses.

And you break. Made brittle by your desire to put him first, of course you do.  

“All he wanted was for me to give you a chance, which was pretty reasonable after you called me annoying—” that word comes out with a bite to it you didn’t intend; sensitive, sore, “—but I never told him about that. He’s just… worried about you in his own way, I guess.” 

Viktor quietly raises an eyebrow, and that’s all it takes to snap you into fours next. It practically falls out of your mouth: “He keeps texting me to make sure you’re still alive. Sometimes I think he’s joking, but then one time he told me he had a nightmare that you drowned in the pool, so part of me actually thinks he’s being serious.” 

“He is.” 

“Wait, really—?”

“Is that why you come so often now?”

Wednesday. Friday. Sunday. Monday too, sometimes, if the day before hasn’t left you sufficiently sore enough. The pain means progress. It must.

“Well, no,” you blink, “that’s mainly because I have a lot to work on.”

“Do you?”

You gesture to yourself. All of you. The way your stomach folds and rolls and fucking exists unappealingly beneath your sweatshirt when you slouch—it could be better. The way your thighs pancake out, smushed against the bed—not getting better, but discipline and toning might shape them into something near desirable. “Yeah, obviously.”

He treads lightly. “I… would not say it’s obvious.” But his eyes are cast down as he carefully removes his rubber gloves and discards them in a bucket of cleaning supplies. He’s not rude enough to agree, but you worry, in all those moments you can feel him looking at you, that he’s thinking it. After all, he’s willowy, sharp and elegant in a way you’ll never be. Soft and fleshy. Never quite right. 

“And that’s because you’re, what, zero percent body fat?” you sigh, gesturing to him incredulously. “I’m not implying that’s healthy or ideal—honestly, I’d share some if I could—but…” Your hands curl to your chest, clasped tightly in one another when there is no one else to hold them through the indignity of admitting, “I’m the one that needs fixing. Not you.” 

He was right, though, when he said it earlier. This isn’t about you. “Where did you come up with that, anyways?” you ask. 

The lines on his face, those deep, concerned creases between his brows, spell out what the fuck. You don’t understand what’s so hard about that question—what he can’t figure out, why the confusion lingers in his eyes. “This… This is the second time you’ve offered to help me.”

“I was trying to be supportive. Encouraging, even—that’s also a good word for it.” 

“It all feels the same,” he tells you, taking his turn to sigh. “Which is to say patronizing, sometimes.”

And that was not what you intended. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a saint or anything. That’s not entirely it.” You fight the turtle-like urge to retract into your sweatshirt, which would arguably be more stupidly embarrassing than admitting: “I was just looking for… common ground, I guess. Ways to hang out without dragging you out with us.” 

“Are we not doing that right now?”

“Sure, but I feel bad about it.” There’s the silvery peek of his computer, buried on the desk. “I’m keeping you from more important things.” 

“You’re not,” he says—no, placates, but the disbelieving press of your lips makes him reconsider. “Well, eh, perhaps, but I can manage. I’ve dealt with Heimerdinger’s high expectations and, mm, sadistic deadlines for years. The weekends work well to make up for lost time, and there is all night after this too.”

“You should sleep.”

“I can’t. Not well.”

You give a creaky little bounce—not much of one, no spring to it—to demonstrate: “Maybe because your mattress feels about as hard as sleeping on the ground.” 

“One problem of many, yes.”

You count yourself among them, in one way or another. You’ve been leaking these awful insecurities all night. 

Is it any wonder that another slips? 

“It’s just—the last thing I want is to bother you. Everyone, really, but especially you.” 

“Is that because of me?” he asks quietly. “Because of what I said?”

Oh, you’ve carried this around since day one. Let it color his tone and his words and his actions. Let it haunt you trying to reach for others, the freshest nick in a line of scars that was never stitched properly. That’s what you get for letting all those little anxieties run wild with knives in their hands. That’s what you get for forgiving him before he ever asked for it, as if that would make things easier. For you. For him. For everyone. 

It hasn’t.

Viktor crosses the three steps between you on bare, nobby feet. His weight dips the bed beside you ever slightly, like he’s hardly there. But he is, by the way his leg bumps your knee, and you scoot over to give him space.  

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, grasping at some distant thread. They’re as awkward as he is in saying, “I can’t recall what I meant at the time, but it… it wasn’t that. It would’ve been fine if you thought less of me for it, but not of yourself.” 

You shake your head. “It’s—don’t worry, it’s not all you,” you say, softening his guilt, perhaps at your own expense. “I have a lot of anxiety, and that’s a long running thing, okay? It’s mostly… me.” 

“That’s… good to know. About you, I mean. Not that it’s—it’s good. Just, eh, helpful to know.” 

“I guess that’s generally the benefit of being upfront about things,” you shrug as if it comes easy. 

“I would prefer that, I think.”

It doesn’t, but the light, fizzy feeling of relief makes you want to try, if only to have more of it. Maybe more of his shy little smiles too. This time with more intention, and less leaky word vomit. 

“Okay…” You shift to face him fully, mirroring his posture in leaning back on your hand for support. “Then in no uncertain terms, I want you to know that I’m not trying to fix you.” Been there, done that, got the shitty dunce hat. People don’t change unless they want to. You know that. “I just wish you were kinder to yourself, but that’s on you. So if you ever decide you want better, whatever that means, I’ll be there. Only if you want me to and only on your own terms—no physical activity required.”

“I might want to consider it, you know…” His voice lowers, softer and softer with hesitation, to the point that you find yourself leaning in. Noticing, as he seems to have noticed, that your hands are a hair’s breadth apart. “As a future prospect, if anything. But you have to understand, I don’t enjoy being watched.”

“I get that.” 

“Mm, no, I imagine people stare at you for very different reasons,” he mutters. “Not pity. Envy, perhaps.”

“I promise, most people don’t want these thunder thighs,” you huff, resisting the urge to slap them like a used car salesman. These babies can fit so much soul-crushing insecurity, which is a terrible pitch, really. The occasional bouts of self-loathing are not your strongest selling point.

He lets out the strangest bark of a laugh, so dry it’s almost ugly, as if he can read your mind. 

But you didn’t mean to derail. “Sorry, continue.” 

“Right…” Viktor draws in a long breath, quiet for a moment before he figures out how to word it. “It’s as simple as that I would rather go unseen. It’s very, ah, personal. And painful, sometimes.”

You think of the age old adage: If it hurts, don’t do it. “Um, not a doctor, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be?” 

“So they say,” he nods pensively, eyes ticking over some distant thought, maybe a memory. “It wasn’t like this before. The discomfort wasn’t… serious. That’s how I was able to ignore it for so long.”

“Ignore what?”

Not the brutal slam of the garage door across the house, for one thing. The pictures on the wall must be hanging crooked now.

Viktor sits straighter—if that’s even possible—and calls out: “Jayce?”

Footsteps—softer, distant.

His eyes snap back to yours. “It’s been a week since he’s come home,” he tells you in a quick whisper. “Mm, well, in the evening. He’s here in the morning—”

“To work out at the ass crack of dawn? I know.”

“You were invited?”

“He knows better than to think I’ll get up that early. I saw on his Instagram.”

Footsteps—louder now.

Viktor nods sagely. “Ah, yes, the stories. By my count, he has written, eh, ‘rise and grind’ forty three times since the first of the year.”

“That’s…” Your math isn’t great but, “More than once a week,” you whisper back, on the cusp of giggles as Viktor nods. And then, it hits you. “Wait—”

But the footsteps have stopped. 

And instead, there’s Jayce’s stoop-shouldered figure braced in the doorway. He sniffles loudly.

He’s still dressed in the khakis and blue button down he wears to work—rumpled, sleeve cuffs smeared darker. His eyes have that red, raw, burning swell of someone who's tried very hard not to cry, and failed spectacularly. 

Viktor finds the words you’re looking for with immediate precision. “Has something happened?” he asks, voice tight, hand tighter on your shoulder as he leans around you to look his roommate over. “Jayce?”

They spend a lot of time apart. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that they’re best friends too. 

He swipes at his nose as it runs into the raw little divot above his lip. Beyond sadness, there’s a guilty cast to his dark, hazel eyes, turned down to the floorboards, but you can’t find your voice to tell him that this isn’t what it looks like. 

“Are you… injured?” Viktor tries again.

Jayce shakes his head. No. 

“Is your mother alright?” 

“She’s fine,” he rasps. “Um… Can I just—?” he asks, gesturing weakly to the two of you.

Which you think must translate to: “You want to come sit?” 

“Yeah.”

Viktor’s of course comes without apprehension, without judgment. Only with the apparent surprise that he even needed to ask. 

But Jayce, in several long legged strides, doesn’t come sit. No, he collapses face first onto the bed behind you, all broad, shaking shoulders and quiet sniffles seeping out from behind his arms. They hide his face and nothing else. Hands curling, clenching into his shirtsleeve, there’s the thick band of a tan line striped across his middle finger. 

You turn yourself around, scooching closer, folding up cross-legged to face him. 

You’ve never seen him like this—laid so low. A sweat stain blooms dark at the small of his back, up between his shoulder blades, but sweat is sweat and Jayce is Jayce. You reach out to rub his back despite it.  “It’s alright…” you whisper. Feels like putting band-aids on a bleeding heart, but it’s all you have. 

Soft cotton weave catches the peeling skin of old blisters as you soothe your hand in circles. His shirt leaches the vetiver smell of cologne, but somewhere beneath it, there’s an elegant, cloying perfume still lingers. It’s no secret where he spends most of his time these days. 

You meet Viktor’s searching eyes and mouth: Mel. 

He nods gravely as if to say he drew the same conclusion.

Say something—that’s your next silent suggestion, canting your head toward Jayce. 

But instead, Jayce takes a deep, wet, shuddering breath and asks, muffled into the mattress, “Can… Can we go to Taco Bell?” 

“Sure…” you murmur. He could’ve asked you to drive him two states over to bury a body and you would’ve agreed just as thoughtlessly. Anything he needs. “We’ll take you.”

He doesn’t move. Just sniffles at a prompting little scritch to the nape of his neck, where his hair fades out to shadowy, peach-flesh fuzz.

So you ask, “Do you want to go change, and then I can drive us?”

“Can I just have a minute? Please?”

“Why?” demands a perplexed Viktor, still soft spoken. Desperate for an answer that isn’t made of cobbled assumptions; blunt in its pursuit. 

And worried. You can tell that he’s worried. 

As if you’d been the one to ask, the personification of wet, doleful misery lifts his head and looks up at you. His face is a ruin of dark, clumpy lashes and tear-tracked skin. His lip wobbles, the pressure of withholding little sobs building, building, building. But speaking it aloud makes it real. Speaking it aloud breaks the levee. 

“I think we just broke up,” he finally whispers. 

And cries face-down for another hour after that.

[smooth-perceval]

“You still love me?”

Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Max and reader have decided to separate for the benefit of their child. Reader and max was always arguing and they both agreed it wasn’t fair to bring their baby up that way. Only when the reader attends one of his races for their kid they realised it was a break that they needed not seperation.

Warning: Swearing, angst, Google translate, not proof read.

Key: Y/N (Your Name), Milo (Baby boy name, baby is nearly 3, slowly learning sentences)

Word count: 4,768

A/N: Max and kids is like my fav fics. Anyways, hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!! 🖤 maybe some movie quotes in here cause I like movies :|

When did the constant arguing happen? Pfftt no idea I couldn’t tell you. What I could tell you is that I have had enough.

I had enough of playing the waiting game and making excuses for Max’s absence in his own little boys life. We tried attending majority of the races for Max, and even the ones we could attended we might as well been at home, we would’ve seen more of Max on the tv.

Whenever I brought up this situation with Max, he always would shout about “Being world champion” and that “I have a priority to the team” which I would always clip back with “What about your priority of being a father?” To then he would slam the door on my face and go on his simulator, or end the call on me.

It was the same shit different day, it was just killing me knowing this is all effecting our Milo. The countless days and nights of me lying for Max, it was getting tiring wiping our baby’s eyes, and promising him his dad really does love and care for him his just busy doing championship things.

10:38pm

Still no sign of Max, no text, no call, nothing. Milo tried staying awake but the struggle was getting unbearable for him and I decided to do the battle of attempting to get him to bed.

“Come baby, it’s time for bed. Pa is busy…” scooping him up in my arms as he yawned, he started mumbling his protests and I knew it’ll be another long night… and all I could think was, damn you Max Verstappen.

After trying to settle Milo down for the last 20 or so minutes, we finally compromised Milo was going to stay in our bed, with a bowl of fruit because he really wanted it.

Finally Milo settled his head next to mine on the pillow, I was laying on my side watching him a small smile on my face. He really is perfect, his Max’s double, absolutely perfect, the temperament was defiantly the same as well, I sure had my hands full with them.

“mamma, is pa home?” His eyes diverted from the tv to me as he laid on his side also now, clearly getting tired by the way he reached his hand out putting it on the side of my face, a comfort thing he does when his tired. “Not yet baby. I’ll wake you when he does” I place my hand on top of his smiling at him leaning it kissing his nose. “Night mamma…” yawning again his eyes flutter closed as he takes a deep sigh. “Night Schat” (darling)

Once I knew Milo was fully asleep I turned the tv off and leaned over to check my phone again, still nothing…

Now yawning also, I gave up. Milo doesn’t deserve this- I don’t deserve this… all we asked for is 5 minutes of his time. But the team comes first.

01:19am

The bed dipped, and I felt Milo stir against my chest, his small arm wrapped around me as much as he could, I soon felt another arm slide over us both and a deep sigh leave the person. Opening my eyes a little I already knew who it would be.

“Don’t wake Milo.” I mumble cradling our baby.

“Nice to see you too.” He scoffed back rubbing Milo’s back.

“He waited up late again for you Max.”

“Well put him to bed earlier.”

Shushing Max I soothed Milo again, I knew I promised to wake him up but he needs to sleep. Maybe we both can’t keep our promises…

“Sorry…” Max whispered closing his eyes.

“For all of it.” He mumbled afterwards.

“I don’t care anymore…” I whispered back pushing Max arm off me… yes I did and yea I just wanted Max to hold me, but that means his won and I can’t let him win once again. Max gave in rolling onto his back and letting the sleep take him. While me? I laid awake for another hour or so just watching them both, they both looked so peaceful, Milo had clearly felt Max presence and turned over cuddling into him. As soon as Max felt him a small smile crept to his face, even while asleep… and it’s times like this that make me regret the bad thoughts I have… but I had to do it for us to work-

The next morning I slowly woke up, when I glanced over Max and Milo was still asleep, Max now on his back and Milo laying on his chest with Max’s arms both wrapped around him securely. It was an adorable image, they both looked so calm when together and again, so peaceful.

Deciding to start making Milo’s breakfast, I head downstairs knowing soon he will be awake and our little morning routine will have to start, so why not get ahead?

I started making some pancakes and fruit for him as he loves pancakes, seeing as I’m able to get 5 minutes to make them, normally once me and Milo get up his already asking for breakfast- and boy, that kid gets hangry. And boy he can eat.

Just as I was setting his food at the table I heard someone behind me.

“Morning.” I already knew it was Max, by his deep husky voice that he always gets in the mornings, and for the fact that nobody but Max was here who’s voice would be like that. “Morning.” I mumbled back going past him to wake Milo, if I don’t wake him now he won’t sleep later unfortunately.

When I opened the door to the bedroom Milo was slowly waking up, his head just rising from the pillow, like he had sensed Max not being there. I smiled at him sweetly and walked over to the bed brushing his hair back with my fingers. “Morning baby” but he couldn’t care for me being there he straight away looked around the room, “pa?”

“Pa is downstairs, you coming?” I held my hands out to Milo who stood up slowly and climbed into my arms, head resting on my shoulder. Some may say his too old to be carried but his my baby, if I could I’d carry him for the rest of my life. When his in my arms I feel like no danger could come to us.

Once I had made it back downstairs I sat Milo at the table, as he insists his a big boy and can eat like his dad. Max was sitting there already with a bowl of cereal and phone in hand.

“Papa.” Milo stared at Max a sleepy smile on his face “Hi, mijn ventje” (my boy), glancing up from his phone he smiled at Milo, there is no denying Max loves his kid with his whole heart… but Milo is still young. He needs to be shown it. Like now, putting your phone down and enjoying breakfast with one another, was that too much to ask.

“Max.” I crossed my arms over my chest staring him out. He quickly looked up with raised eyebrows. Nodding my head towards Milo with pointed eyes, praying he got the hint. However, he just looked back at Milo confused and then back at me.

With a defeated sigh, I pulled a chair out next to Milo cutting up his food a bit more and handing him his cutlery. “I need to go, shit. I didn’t realise the time.”

“But you’ve barely been here five minutes…” I looked up at him with pleading eyes praying he would just sit back down.

“Papa leaving?” Milo looked between me and Max, I could see it on Max’s face he was praying I made some excuse up.

Shaking my head I looked down at Milo food picking his fork back up for him and handing it to him. “Eat up, otherwise I’ll eat it all.” I was on the verge of tears… the point that he couldn’t even stay here for me, didn’t both me I knew I signed up for this… but Milo didn’t. Max said we was at a good time for kids, truthfully he meant it was a good time for me and not him.

Max ran off upstairs getting changed and packing a few items ready for his next trip. By then Milo had given up with food, I took his stuff out to the kitchen letting him play for a bit in the lounge.

“I’ll call you tonight, make sure Milo is awake.” Turning around Max was standing in the kitchen door way. I just stared at him, I get he has a job I do but it’s not fair-

“Don’t bother making a promise if you don’t intend to keep it.” At my response Max rolled his eyes.

“Y/N don’t start this again- I got to go.”

“So have I. Max I can’t keep doing this…”

I finally got his attention. He stepped further into the kitchen confused.

“What you mean you can’t do this?”

“I can’t keep waiting around for you, you said we could start this family yet you haven’t been here-” I already felt choked up, this wasn’t a conversation I expected to be having first thing in the morning but I knew it was brewing…

“I’m doing my job- what did you expect me to do? Drop it all because you got pregnant?” The realisation showed on Max face as soon as he said it. He stepped even closer hands out waving in front of him.

I leaned my head back trying to hold back any tears that were threatening to spill, taking a few deep breaths.

“Y/N I didn’t mean that- it was just, it just came out-”

“You needed to go Max.” I turned back around putting the last remaining cups and plates away.

“Don’t, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Shut me out.” He now came and stood next to me, trying to get me to look at him.

“You did that in your own.” He glanced down at his watch and then quickly back up at me.

“I need to leave. We will continue this when I’m home okay? I promise.” And he just left with a quick by to Milo, who was practically chasing him out the door.

There I stood alone in the kitchen taking a few more deep breaths before heading out to Milo.

“How about we go to the park baby?” Smiling I held my hands out to him, slowly he walked over his bottom lip stuck out little sniffles coming from him. “Papa’s gone…” I leant down picking him up, hand rubbing his back trying to soothe him. “I know, it’s okay…” carrying him upstairs to his room we picked a cute little set for him, seeing as it was quite warm out in Monaco, I encouraged him into the bathroom where he climbed on his little stool to brush his teeth.

He has always been very good with learning new things, he likes to be very much like his Dad, he see’s Max brushing his teeth, he wanted to do it, Max gets dressed by himself, Milo can do it. That’s why it’s been very difficult these few months with no Max present… it took a toll on Milo, what does he do now the only person he wanted to be like is rarely around?

“Go play, mama needs to get dressed mijn lieverd” (my darling) he nodded his head running off into his room as I got dressed, brushed my hair and teeth, and put on some skin care.

“Milo you ready?” Coming back out our room he come walking out smiling, his got Max’s cute smile, honestly makes my heart swell every time he smiles, maybe it doesn’t hurt me so much Max not being around because I do have my mini Max always. “Mama, we go park now?” Nodding my head I held his hand as we both took the stairs one step at a time.

“Did you want to bring anything?” I grabbed a large bag for us, heading into the kitchen packing a few snacks and drinks for us, going to the medical cupboard and getting Sun protection, “Milo let mama put this on you” I bent down in front of him applying it to any skin showing before putting it in the bag.

“This.” He held out his small replica toy of Max car before putting it in the bag.

I put his and my shoes on before holding my hand out again. “Ready?”

Nodding his head he took my hand grabbing his little hat that was on the coat hanger as we left.

It was only a small trip to the park, Milo absolutely tired himself out, us now both sitting in a nearby spot of grass in the shade, I was meant back against a tree Milo between my legs leaning back on me, eating some snacks.

“Papa home now?” He mumbled before putting another snack in his mouth. I ran my hands through his hair sighing. “Not yet baby…”

“At bedtime?” He turned his head slightly looking up at me.

“Maybe, if his not busy.” Nodding his head we then sat in silence, I took a picture of Milo sending it to Max, when Max was busy I always made sure to give updates on what we are doing, wether he answers or not.

On the walk home Milo ended up being carried as he fell asleep, clearly exhausted. Once indoors I sat him down in the lounge putting some cushions next to him so he didn’t roll off.

I quickly unpacked the bag and cleaned the house thinking about everything me and Max had to talk about, clearly believing that he will be home later, his promise taken seriously once again.

The day apart from that was quiet, Max never responded to my message, Milo was now awake and playing with his cars in the lounge and I was getting dinner ready.

When it got to dinner I messaged Max 20 minutes before dishing up, to see if he was going to be home, but no response. Me and Milo ate dinner with Max dinner now sitting there untouched, after dinner I cleared our plates putting Max dinner in the oven keeping it warm… hopefully he won’t be long-

I bathed Milo and was able to encourage him to stay in his own room tonight, which he settled down quite quickly clearly still tired from the day at the park.

And then I waited,

10:00pm rolled around, no max.

11:00pm still no max.

12:04am I decided to give up, I took his dinner out the oven throwing it away and headed to bed, the final broken promise.

I didn’t sleep, I laid in bed wondering what or who was keeping him away from home, this is the first 2 week break he has be able to have and yet we have seen nothing of him, I felt starved. I felt unwanted, pushed aside… Milo doesn’t understand fully, he only questions why Max is not here… and I have no more excuses apart from his busy…

12:47am the front door unlocked and I heard Max stumbling in swearing to himself, about 10 minutes or so later he came upstairs getting changed out his clothes and climbing into bed…

I just wanted to turn over and lay on his chest, pin him down and tell him he cannot leave. But I didn’t I faced the wall letting the tears silently fall.

“You awake?” The quiet whisper barley heard between us.

“Y/N…” he reached his hand out to which I quickly brushed off. “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t lie…” I whispered back, biting down on my lip, trying to collect myself.

“Are you crying?” I felt him shuffle behind me now sitting up using his arm to lean on. He pulled my arm gently trying to get me to turn over.

“Just go to sleep.” I tried pulling my arm away, but Max was quick to pull me back, now staring up at him, he leant over switching the side lamp on looking down at me.

“You are crying-” as if completely shocked he went to wipe the tears, I turned away swatting his hand away.

“You broke your promise.”

“I couldn’t just leave they needed me there-”

“Bullshit.” Sniffling I climbed out of the bed grabbing a pillow.

“It’s the truth.” I stood there staring at him, praying he would show me everything we have missed these passed few months, I was deprived of his touch his affection, I was deprived of Max.

“Why you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you hate me.” With furrowed brows he moved to the edge of the bed.

“I’m starting to…” mumbling I looked down at the floor like I was ashamed to admit it.

“Your starting to hate me?” I nod my head slowly sniffling again.

“It took a lot of love for me to hate you the way I do…”

“You hate me?” He repeated again.

“Did you expect any different? Your not here-”

“And? that doesn’t mean you hate me-”

“Max your like a different person now. I don’t like this person you are- I fell in love with the guy that gave me that sweet little boy in the next room… the one who kept his promises, the guy that came home whenever he could to be with his family… this-” I looked him up and down stepping back.

“This isn’t him. This is not my Max. Milo’s dad… he asks for you every single day Max- and your not here… I’m surprised his first word wasn’t “Papa is busy.” From the amount of times I repeated it…”

Staring at each other Max in some form of shock and maybe disbelief, “your never here.” I finished my rant hugging the pillow tighter.

“I’m done now Max, I’ve given it my all… I’ve got no more love to give you.”

“Your giving up on us?”

“You did months ago.”

And I left the room, taking the night in the lounge.

Did it hurt the breakup? No… I was already prepared for it, Max said I could stay in the apartment until I found myself a place suitable for me and Milo, things have been better the past two weeks, I’ve had messages from Max, him asking how Milo is, if I had any photos of him that day, he called most nights to speak to him, and when Milo handed the phone back Max would try and questions the subject of us which I would always shut down… if it took me and Max separated for him and Milo to have a better bond then I’ll do it.

Max asked for us to attend a race in Barcelona in a few weeks, I wasn’t too sure seeing as the travelling for Milo wasn’t nice, and truthfully it would be awkward between me and Max… after sitting down and thinking about it, and how excited Milo got I agreed we will come, for the benefit of our child.

Milo didn’t stop talking for weeks, everyone he saw he told them he was going to watch his papa race, every night Max FaceTimed him and Milo would show him his car collection, every single night without fail.

Going back to that night… I don’t hate Max… it was in the moment it came out- but truthfully I love him with my whole heart. And seeing him improve as a parent only made me love him even more… but I was still being to stubborn to speak to him… and I wasn’t going to not yet anyways.

It finally got to race week, me and Milo was flying out on the Friday and should be at the track just before free practice. Milo insisted on wearing his red bull overalls. In a separate bag I had some spare clothing Incase he got to hot, which he will. But he was just as stubborn as me, and refused to change.

Milo was enjoying all the attention, people complimenting his outfit, and even asking to take photos. Which I allowed as Milo was excited to take pictures. We finally got to the red bull garage, everyone was all over Milo, but he only had one thing on his mind Max, and so did I.

“Where’s papa?” He looked around confused, seeing Max car there but no Max.

“His just coming- did you want to sit in his car?”

Nodding his head excitedly I smiled at the engineer thanking them as they lifted him into the car. I leaned down taking a few photos of him, his smile was just contagious everyone around him smiling also, it was a mini Max in big Max car. He was just adorable.

“You think maybe I should get him a car for his birthday?” Turning my head at the voice Max stood next to me arms crossed and a smile on his face as he watches Milo.

“I think he would love it.” Smiling I turned back. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you for 2 weeks straight.”

“Really?” It was max turn to look at me now in shock.

“Mhm, something about ‘Papa wants to play cars?’ ” laughing a little, Max chuckled also, he leaned over the top of the car rubbing Milo’s head.

“Papa!” He quickly jumped up in the seat reaching for Max, and soon settled on max hip as he carried him around.

“Look at your outfit- You look like pa” Max smiled tugging at Milo’s overalls.

“Mama got more.”

“That’s because Mama is smart, shall we go look at the other cars.” Max looked over at me and I nodded my head for them to go. Only then max grabbed my hand pulling me along with them.

All three of us walking down the pit lane, Max and Milo talking about the cars, me trailing next to them bathing in the moment. Max hand still on mine as we walked, it felt normal. Like we hadn’t spilt all them weeks ago…

“Milooo!” In unison we all turned our heads to the voice, seeing Lando come walking out his garage.

“Hello buddy, I hate your outfit…” Lando pretended to be sick which caused Milo to laugh throwing his head back.

“It’s papas.” Smiling happily at Lando, then moving to cuddle Max tighter. “I know it makes me feel sick! You need one of my ones.” Lando poked his cheek smiling back.

“No papa faster.” This now caused max to burst into laughter nudging Lando.

“Wow, I just got told by a 2 year old.” Lando half smiled, before turning to me leaning in giving me a hug. “Y/N sorry- long time no see” I smiled hugging him back. “How you been Lan?”

“Yeah not bad, working with whatever we got you know-”

“Papa- we go red” milo turned pointing down to the Ferrari garage, then looking back at Max.

“You wanna see Ferrari?” Bouncing Milo he said bye to Lando walking off before turning around.

“You coming? Or shall we meet you down there?”

“I’ll be down in a second-” smiling I waved Max off and turned back to Lando,

“Sorry carry on-”

“What is going on with you both?”

Confused I tilt my head looking at him, “what do you mean?”

“Well are you together or not? Cause a few weeks ago he was the most moodiest person in the world. And when I said to him about it he told me use were not together and now his all smiley stopping at garages, walking love loverbirds with you- I’m so confused!”

Laughing a little I looked down to Max, Charles, Milo and Carlos. “I’m just as confused as you.”

Slowly we both started walking down to them discussing what happened, Lando was like mine and Max’s best friend, everything was told to him, and he wouldn’t tell a soul… on purpose anyways.

Me and Max told Lando and Daniel first when we was expecting Milo before family! He is basically Milo’s uncle. Which is why I trust him to tell him our relationship woes.

“Hey Y/N!” Charles smiled and pulled me into a hug once we reached them Carlos following suit. “Hi, how are you both?”

Both nodding slowly, their faces said otherwise. “You?” Turning to Carlos I smiled, “I’m okay thank you, weather here is lovely!”

“I was just saying to Max, why is Milo in a racing suit in this weather?” Charles laughed a little tugging at Milos suit.

“He insisted he needed to wear it because Max wears it.” Shaking my head I laughed a little looking over at Max. Max however was occupied with watching Milo, in complete awe.

“You really said that mijn ventje?” (My boy) Milo hummed nodding his head.

“Oh Max-” checking the time in my phone I grabbed ahold oh his arm. “Practice is about to start.” Pushing him slightly back towards the red bull garage I gave everyone a quick smile and telling them to have fun.

Lando only responded with a little smirk, in response I stuck my middle finger at him behind Max back.

“It’s a good thing your here I would’ve missed that-” Max laughed a little before pausing and shifting Milo to the other side.

“Milo let papa put you down, you can hold his hand okay?” I reached over taking Milo from max putting him on the ground, and as soon as I did he grabbed mine and Max hand swinging our arms as we walked.

“Lando said you have been miserable, wouldn’t come out your drivers room or something?” Tilting my head slightly I sneaked a look at him.

“I haven’t been miserable… just didn’t feel like talking with people.” Max tutted face red slightly.

“And here I was thinking at least I wasn’t the only one.” Teasing him slightly I smiled a little at him.

“You wasn’t… it was hell.” A sigh left his lips as we got into the garage, I then grabbed Milo sitting him on a chair at the side, and sitting next to him while they got prepared. Max getting his gloves and helmet on and doing his race suit up, once ready he came over to Milo crouching down showing him his custom helmet design for this week.

Milos hands were all over his helmet in absolute amazement.

“Give pa his good luck kiss” I pointed to the front of Max helmet and Milo leaned forward kissing the helmet. Smiling max ruffled his hair and stood up, nodding his head at me and touching my arm, I was looking down at Milo and back to Max, maybe I should tell max good luck?

By now max had already climbed into his car and was ready to go out. An engineer already guiding him slowly out.

“Can you watch him for two seconds-” I looked up at another engineer who nodded taking my spot.

Quickly I slid through the people grabbing onto the edge of Max car looking at him from under the halo.

“Good luck.” He looked at me, the corners of his eyes creasing from a smile. Before i stood up letting go of the car.

“I love you-” it was barely heard over the sound of the car, max was already gone. But it gave me reassurance that I had come close to telling him.

Max qualified for Q2 through the practice and come back into a very happy garage- Milo was asleep across two chairs now changed into his other clothes as he got too warm. All he kept saying was “Papa win?” To which I responded with just a simple “yes papa is always a winner”

As soon as max got out the car he was pulling all his stuff off, gloves first then helmet then tugging at the zip on his race suit opening it up, completely ignoring everyone, and when he moved he headed directly towards us.

“Well do-”

“You still love me?” He was heavy breathing, face red, hair slightly damp. And the only thing I could do was nod my head slowly.

And that was enough for Max. Pulling me in and kissing me, he mumbled I love use followed by a kiss after every word.

“I thought you hated me-”

“Never in a million years… if anything I love you even more than when we was 19.”

Max smile grew as he kissed me again.

And once again I thought to myself, damn you Max Verstappen.

A/N: erm yes it was rushed- I woke up and was like I didn’t finish it- and I was posting today so I do apologise with my whole heart 🖤 but with whatever is there I hope you enjoyed it- I kinda like the whole Milo&Max might make them a mini series as Milo grows idk- we will see!

Masterlist

[morbidology]

Growing up in the projects in New York, Jonathan Luna always dreamed of going to college and making his family proud. He graduated from Fordham University and the law school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He eventually settled down in Elkridge, Baltimore, where he got married and had two sons while working as an Assistant United States Attorney.

The 4th of December, 2003, started just like any other day for Jonathan. He kissed his family goodbye before departing for work. He had been working on a trial which involved two men who were suspected in running a drug ring. One of the men was also facing a murder charge. Jonathan had spent the entire evening working on the case and left a voice message to a co-worker at approximately 9PM that night, saying he was ready to go home and that he would see him the following morning.

They were going to offer the two men a plea deal and Jonathan said he was going to work on it at home throughout the night so it would be ready for the morning. According to the clocking out system in his office car park, Jonathan didn’t leave the officer until 11:38PM, leaving behind his phone and glasses, which he needed to drive.

What happened next is shrouded in speculation.

At around 1AM, Jonathan’s car entered Delaware where $200 was lifted from an ATM. He then crossed into New Jersey and on to Pennsylvania at around 4AM. His E-Z Pass was used on the I-95 into Delaware but after this, he started to purchase toll tickets. His car was then parked behind a Sensenig & Weaver in Denver, Pennsylvania. At around 5:30AM, a worker of Sensenig & Weaver arrived to discover the discarded car with blood smeared all over the door and the front of the car.

When the worker peered into the car window, he found a large puddle of blood on the back seat and back footwell. The car was partially in a creek and underneath the car, the worker discovered Jonathan’s bloody body. He had sustained 36 stab wounds with his own penknife.

The pathologist that performed the autopsy said that Jonathan's hands had been “shredded” and that his scrotum and throat had both been slashed before he drowned to death in the creek. Inside the car, detectives found that the purchased toll tickets had blood smeared on them, indicating that he was already injured when purchasing the tickets. Additionally, the puddle of blood in the back seat indicated that he hadn’t been driving the car, but somebody else.

While the death was initially ruled as a homicide, “law enforcement sources” soon began to speculate that he had taken his life and thus a smear campaign on Jonathan’s reputation was born. It was soon reported that Jonathan had most likely been involved in a robbery case in which $36,000 went missing. The Baltimore Sun implied that Jonathan was involved in the robbery and had ended his life because he feared losing his job. Everybody that knew Jonathan had nothing but pleasant words to say about him and found the allegations to be “a well timed hit job on Luna’s reputation.” The FBI ascertained that Jonathan had ended his own life but the local Lancaster counter authorities were adamant that he had been murdered.

What happened to Jonathan Luna from the moment he left his place of employment until he ended up stabbed and slashed in a murky creek still remains a mystery.

While the FBI believes he ended his own life, this leaves too many question. For one, how could he have driven approximately 95 miles without his glasses? Why did he switch from using his E-Z Pass to toll tickets? Why would he have stabbed himself 36 times as well as slashing his scrotum, throat, and hands? What would motivate him to end his life when he was known by all to be an upbeat, full of life, family man? The case still remains open with a $100,000 reward for information leading to a conviction.

[moonlight1110]

Warming up to you ♡

Ghost x Reader ; College!au fluff miniseries

Tags: VERY quick reads, far from canon Simon, fluff, strangers to lovers?, college!au

PART: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

"Did you see the updates I put in the doc? I hope they weren't too bad, just change anything you wanna improve or something :/"

Sent 1:03pm

"Yeah, I'll look over them when I have the time, thanks"

Sent 1:05pm

It had been a week since you were properly introduced to Simon via the most embarrassing moment of your life. However, you were actually pleasantly surprised with how Simon was when you talked in person, compared to the first time you ever interacted over text.

You had decided to start the assignment early to avoid cramming it when the deadline was near. A good move, you thought.

"I can start on the introduction and these parts"

You were surprised when he volunteered to take the introductory parts first, definitely not something you were used to when you worked with other people before. It was certainly like a breath of fresh air working with someone like Simon, and the people around you noticed that as well. Noticed that you two were getting closer and closer every class and certainly more comfortable.

Buzz

"Where are you right now?"

Sent 1:38pm

"I'm at the library working on more of the parts, why?"

Sent 1:38pm

"Stay there, I'm on my way"

Sent 1:40pm

That was certainly unexpected, you thought. A tingly feeling in your chest betrayed the expression on your face, you wanted to act cool, like you actually weren't all that excited to see him, but when you saw Simon walk through the big library doors, his eyes scanning to look for you... You couldn't deny that it didn't make you feel something, you just didn't know what.

You wave your hand, silently calling out to him. You swear you could see his eyes light up for a second when he sees you before making his way to the table you were sitting at.

"Hey, what made you come here?" You asked, looking up at him with a warm smile as he took a seat in front of you, pulling his laptop out and setting it down in front of him. "Just wanted to work on the parts together, have t'make sure you aren't slacking off" he chuckles.

His joke makes you scoff, rolling your eyes in disapproval of his accusation. "I'll have you know that I've actually finished a majority of my parts, thank you very much" you reply, showing him your laptop screen.

"Yeah, yeah— let's get back to work then" Simon replies, a hint of a grin dancing on the corners of his lips. You've never seen him smile before, and while it was barely even considered a smile, it made you blink, it made you wonder what he would actually look like when he actually did smile...

"Something on my face?" His gruff voice snapped you out of your little trance, making you stutter for a moment.

"No, nothing at all— let's get back to work"