#Blue Check Mark Issues

[bunnyhugs77]

Driven 2 U

Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: am i back from the dead??

Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.

Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.

The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.

The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.

Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.

"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \

Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."

"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."

"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."

That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.

Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.

You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.

You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.

"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.

"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.

"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.

Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.

Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.

"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.

Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.

Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.

"Y/n speaking."

It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.

"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.

"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.

You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.

Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"

"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.

"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.

"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.

Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.

Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.

"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.

"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.

His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.

"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.

"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.

You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.

He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.

Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.

His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."

Oh.

"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.

-

Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."

Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."

"Deal."

The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."

"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.

"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."

--

A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.

This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.

You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.

Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.

You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.

The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.

You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.

You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.

You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.

The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.

Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.

"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.

"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.

He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.

You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.

He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.

Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.

"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."

Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"

"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."

You stood there, jaw dropped.

"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.

Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."

You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.

"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.

You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.

His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.

--

"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."

It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.

You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.

--

It's been a month.

He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.

You were spiralling, just a tad.

Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...

You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.

You shake your head.

No.

That's crazy.

You grab the keys anyway.

After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.

Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.

"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."

-

You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.

Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--

"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"

The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."

Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.

-

A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.

You sighed.

You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.

The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.

After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.

"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.

-

It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.

Oh boy.

'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.

'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'

She gives you a thumbs up.

Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.

But maybe this was for the best.

Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.

-

Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"

"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.

How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-

Oh shit.

You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.

Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.

In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.

You were headed right towards him.

You looked angry- no, upset, no-

"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.

You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"

"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.

He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.

You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.

"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.

"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.

"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."

He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.

"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."

He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."

With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.

He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.

He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.

"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.

His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.

Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.

You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.

Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.

To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.

You came with his name falling off your lips.

Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"

"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.

"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.

[sunflowerwinds]

sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: on a slow day at your grandmother’s bakery, a customer captures your attention. as the weeks pass, you see her pop up more and more. a gentle friendship ignites between the two of you. the only issue was the undeniable attraction to her and it didn’t help now having to do her a kind favor. it would go away…. right?

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is described to have long enough hair to tie up, reader has a sister named mila, we love gram, vander, isha and jinx mentions <3, nothing but fluff, strangers to friends to lovers:)

word count: 3.5K

a/n: i seriously had so much fun writing this and i am excited to dig into a mini-series with vi. i hope everyone enjoys this as much as i do </3

— ONE

Running your grandmother’s bakery wasn’t easy but it was a light in your life. She taught you tips and tricks of working the large industrial oven, every single one of her recipes, and wiping down the chalkboard to write the specials for the delicious treats.

She was charm personified; somehow able to convince pretty much every person that walked to the pastry shop to try at least one item. You were on the more quiet side, not insanely secluded but you weren’t extroverted. Nice people cracked you open and next thing you knew it, you were shoving a donut into their palms to take home.

It was a bad habit.

It was a slow Thursday in November. You were sweeping the small area of seating, softly asking one of the usual college students that came if they needed anything else. You were just a few streets down from the community college so many people your age would come in for coffee and furiously type on their laptops.

Once you were told they were good for now, you excuse yourself back to behind the counter to adjust the display desserts. You were bent over when you heard the bell over the door echo within the space, shouting ‘welcome in’.

“If you have any questions, just let me know. We have a daily special which is on the blackboard,” you stood back up with a slight grunt from the rush, brushing a few flyaways to kindly smile at the new customer. “Today we have buy one, get one donut free.”

Your eyes slightly widen at the… attractiveness of the customer. You adjust the neckline of your soft brown cable knit sweater to tug out your necklaces, plastering on a friendly smile.

“I actually came in because I was curious about the sign,” she trails off, tilting her head as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Do you actually just let people smell the food?”

You let out a soft chuckle as you nod. Your grandfather, one of the only men who had ever tolerated, made the sign for your grandmother the second she mentioned it to him. Now, in all its carved glory ‘Free Smells!’ is hanging underneath the shop's main sign: Sweet Tooth Bakery + Cafe.

“Yeah, my grandma thought it’d be a funny sign to draw people in. Obviously, we don’t let them shove their nose into it or anything,” you shake your head, holding your hand out to the stranger. “Because that’s… unsanitary.”

The pink haired stranger nods with a soft chuckle, stepping back to check out the arrangement of treats in the display case. In that moment of silence, you, as discreetly as possible, check her out. She had on a navy blue cut off sleeve zip-up, a soft white tank top underneath and a pair of grey sweatpants hugging her lower half. Very simplistic outfit but she made it look good.

You think she just naturally looked good. If you stared for long enough, which you embarrassingly did so, you could see markings of ink on the side of her neck and following down the backs of her arms and the smallest etching on her cheek.

“Any suggestions on what to smell first?” She questions, curious eyes bouncing back up to you.

You hum to yourself as you, too, stagger your eyes from pastry to pastry to carefully choose which one you could have her smell.

“Are you a fan of blueberries?” You question with a beaming grin.

“Uh, sure, yeah. Blueberries are good.”

“Then you have to take a whiff of the blueberry danish. It’s one of my favorites.” You offer, pointing to the sweet treat.

The pink haired stranger leans forward, folding her bare arms across her chest. You, again, can’t help your stares as you try to figure out what was exactly dotted into her pale skin. She nods with a shrug, looking at you with a kind smile.

“I’ll give it a whiff, yeah,” she stepped forward so that the glass of the display case was the only obstacle between the two of you.

You can feel your face getting hot as you mutter a bright ‘okay’ to yourself. You bend over once again grab the metal tongs to pick out the danish to place on a ceramic plate. You place it on top of the display case, motioning for the stranger to give it a smell.

Still seeming a bit hesitant that you were playing a joke on her, she leans her face forward so that she is mere centimeters away from the pastry. She inhales a bit, letting out a long sigh as she leans back to look at you.

“Shit, that smells amazing,” she praises the sweet aroma, nodding in satisfaction. “I’ll take it.”

You blink at her before chuckling awkwardly.

“You don’t have to buy the ones you smell. I promise.” You reassure her as you attempt to put the danish back so that you can shove the cranberry-orange muffin in her face.

She’s quick to hold a palm out to stop you, shaking her head. A beautiful smile spreads on her lips, temporarily forgetting how eager you were to show her every single pastry on display.

“I want that one. I swear. Plus, my sister’s going to rush me out of here if I take too long.”

A part of you was disappointed that she was so quick to purchase the first, yet incredibly delicious, treat. You selfishly wanted her to stay for as long as possible. Your grandmother would be on your ass for being so distracted by an attractive customer.

She would give you a clap on the back for making a sale, though.

“Oh, okay. Did your sister want anything?” You offer, itching to find any way possible for her to stay just a bit longer.

The stranger hums to herself for a moment as she examines the rest of the delicious treats. You tilt your head as you grab a small brown paper bag to place the danish into, waiting patiently to see if she was going to pick another item.

To your delighted surprise, she nods as she points to a more simplistic pastry.

“I think this pink donut should be good,” she nods to show certainty.

You grasp onto the sweet treat to slide it into the bag with her danish, trying not to spill a lot of the sprinkles. You seal it closed with a custom sticker with the logo of the shop, typing up her total into the register. The stranger reaches into her sweatpants pocket to pull out her wallet.

“Your total is gonna be $7.89. Cash or card?” You question.

“Card.”

You watch her hand you a simple light blue credit card, grinning as you not-so-discreetly check out her full name on it. Her first name caught your attention. Violet. As you swipe her card, you clear your throat to work up the courage to give her a compliment.

“I love your name. It’s pretty,” you say as you hand her back the card.

The stranger, now known as Violet, smiles small at your words. Her long fingers take the card from you as she slides it back into her wallet.

“Thank you. My, uh, dad named me,” she grins at you.

“Well, he made a very good choice,” you hand her the bag as well, nodding as you try not to appear awkward. “Anything else I can get for you?”

Were you being weird?

“No, no, I’m good,” she chuckles as she crinkles the bag in her palms. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You nod as you hand her own copy of the receipt, holding onto the half second of the tip of her fingers brushing against yours. You watch her turn her back and leave the shop, eyes never leaving her sculpted back profile. You huff at your behavior once the bell from above the door snaps you out of your small trance, shoving your copy of the receipt into its designated spot.

“She’s cute,” you hear from behind you, causing you to jump and whip your head around.

You’re met with your grandma grinning evilly at you, a little bit of flour smudged on her cheek from her baking in the back.

“Gram,” you sigh as you shake your head, brushing away your loose hairs.

“I’m just saying, bug,” she walks up next to you to rub up and down your arm.

You blush at what she was insinuating. As much as you love your grandmother, she attempted to be your match maker like you were an introverted middle schooler. You were 22 for God's sake. You would make moves and flirt when you felt like it.

“Don’t you have something in the oven?” You raise your eyebrows at her, hoping she’d leave it alone.

“Hey. I could fire you, you know,” your grandma pointed a finger in your face accusingly but her tone was light and a cheeky grin was on her face.

You roll your eyes playfully as you softly bump your hip with hers.

Everyday since Violet came in, you perk at the sound of the bell hoping to see that head of pink hair waltzing in again. Two excruciatingly long weeks pass before you see Violet again.

What was disappointing about seeing her today of all days was that you were working this shift with your 17 year old sister who was… less than thrilled to be working now; especially with you being her superior in a workplace. She, like most teenagers, was yearning to be more independent which meant constantly disregarding your instructions on what to do at work.

You were irritated beyond belief with her constantly arguing with you. You couldn’t even really fully pay attention as Mila smacked your arm with the rag. When you saw her from outside the shop, this time around she came with company. You were in the midst of a bicker with her because she didn’t wipe down a table like you had told her to when you saw Violet coming in with a little girl walking beside her.

You gasp at her childish antics, pinching her arm but then shushing her as you tight-lipped smile at Violet as she approaches the familiar display case. You try not to frown at the sight of her bandaged nose and small bruise sitting right on the apple of her cheek. Her outfit is similar from the last time you saw her except a simple oil-black hoodie with those same joggers. You even saw a bit of wrapped bandages on her hands peeking out from the sleeves.

Was she jumped or something?

“There are only, like, two people here and they’re sitting outside,” your sister whisper-shouts at you, plastering on a fake smile at the new customers. “Hi! Welcome in.”

Violet glances at Mila when she straightens her back, placing a gentle hand on the back of the child’s back to guide her to the display of new and fresh treats for the day. She places her little hands on the glass as she very eagerly bounces on the soles of her worn in dark blue tennis shoes.

“Hi! Violet, you’re back.” You turn to your sister and sneer quietly. “Clean the tables. Now, please.”

Mila gives Violet a once-over and you a narrow glare as she grumbles a ‘fine’ as she rounds the corner to go and wipe down the crumb and dust filled tables.

“Hey. You can call me Vi, by the way. I, uh, was with my sister for the day and she wanted to try this place. I gave her some of my danish and she went crazy.” Violet motioned to the child just a few feet below her, chuckling at her gazing hungrily at the sweets.

“Well, Vi, I’m glad to hear,” you lean your head to the side to get a good look at her sister.

She had a wild head of short waves, a small gap in between her two front teeth. Her outfit made her ten times more adorable; a plain white Henley long sleeve with a pair of overalls. Her big hazel eyes stared at you patiently.

“Hi, cutie. Do you see one that you like?” You question her with a friendly smile.

Her adorable face scrunches up in thought, stepping back to look at her choices. She turns her head to her older sister before pointing at a strawberry muffin and raising her hands to sign what you believe is ASL. You curse yourself for not knowing what she was telling the pink haired stranger.

“She wants to smell the strawberry muffin,” Vi chuckles. “I told her about how you let me smell my danish first before buying it.”

“Okay, I can do that for you. What’s her name?” You question, hoping it didn’t come off as offensive.

“Isha. She doesn’t talk much,” Vi raised a bandaged hand to settle on her light brown waves on her head, ruffling the strands.

“Well, Miss Isha,” you focus your attention on her once again, watching her bounce on the balls on her feet with excitement. You grab your trusty metal tongs to grab the muffin and place it on a soft blue ceramic plate to set it down on the counter area of your register set-up for her to smell. “Here you go. Let me know if you want to smell anything else.”

Your heart grows tenfold as Vi quietly tells Isha to not shove her nose into the muffin, smiling at her sister as she hovers close to the pastry.

“Is she the one who ate the pink donut?” You turn your attention to Vi, raising your brows as you adjust your flyaways from your bubble braid.

Pretty blue eyes flickering to yours, her brows twitch as if she was shocked that you remembered such a minuscule detail.

“No, that was my other sister,” she shakes her head. “Isha was actually very angry with me when I came home with no cupcakes or muffins for her so I’m making it up to her.”

You watch her scrunch up her bruised bridge of her nose for a second as Isha signs something else to her. Vi playfully rolls her eyes with a sigh as she turns to you with another wince.

“Can she eat this now? She has an impatient appetite.”

You chuckle with a nod as you hand the plate to her, muttering a ‘careful, sweetie’ to Isha who beams up at you. She scurries over to a small round table to hop up on the seat to divulge. Now that it was just you and Vi standing in front of each other.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask softly, eyes flicking to each injury on her gorgeous face.

Confused about your concern for her, her brows furrow for a moment. You watch her turn around to make sure Isha was all good, hounding down the muffin with crumbs falling from her mouth to the ground.

“Oh, yeah,” Vi shook her head, waving at you off as she grins sweetly. “I work at a kick-boxing studio and some of the kids can get aggressive. I’m okay, though, trust me. I’ve taken more than a few hits to the head.”

That explains the injuries and the bandaged hands. Of course, she was a kick-boxer. Her physique gave that away but what did you know? Isha was distracted with her muffin so you were able to converse with her, get to know her a little more so your gram would stop asking you if that cute pink haired girl came in again.

“Really? Where at?” You hum.

“It’s like fifteen minutes from here. Why? You want to come see kids beat me up?” She teases, folding her arms over her chest.

You hum with a nod, walking around the counter to place a napkin on the table so Isha could wipe her face to be rid of the sticky crumbs on her face. “Yeah, that’s exactly why. Because I’m a masochist.”

An actual laugh left her plush lips as she shook her head, eyes following you as you face her now. If Gram could see you now. Well, she was probably watching you from the security cameras in the back room with an evil smile.

“You know, I meant to ask. Do you make custom cakes?” Vi leans back to rest her lower back on the countertop where your register was, crossing her legs and shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.

She really just looks like that, you thought to yourself.

“We do, yeah. Is your birthday coming up?” You look at her with raised brows.

Vi shakes her head, pointing to the little girl behind you. “No. Her birthday is next week and my family is throwing her a zoo themed birthday party.”

You awe out loud at the thought.

“That’s so cute. Yeah, I can— I mean, we can do that,” you shake your head as you correct yourself, hoping she didn’t catch your desperate slip-up.

Isha stands up from her table, dusting off the crumbs from her overalls. She walks over to you to hand you the plate, signing ‘thank you’ to you. You pause for a moment before hesitantly signing back ‘you’re welcome’ slowly, not sure if you were doing it right. You knew the basics but weren’t extremely educated on ASL. After today, though, you were determined to brush up on it.

Isha eyes brighten at you signing back to her. She turns to Vi with a smile so wide, you swore her cheeks would split open. She nods down at Isha, ruffling her hair once again as she reaches for her pocket to retrieve her wallet.

“Shit, sorry, how much do I owe you for the muffin?” Vi shuffles through the bills in her wallet.

“No, no. You’re… good. Don’t worry about it.” You wave her off, shaking your head.

Vi pauses before scoffing, attempting to shove the money into your palms. “I’m paying for the muffin.”

“Seriously. It’s one muffin, Vi. Plus, a little early birthday present for Isha.” You shove the bills into her hands once again, gripping onto her hands to make sure she doesn’t try to give them back.

Vi glances down at your gentle hands around hers. Reluctantly taking the money back, she takes the bills before shoving them back into the crease of her wallet. You try not to focus on how slightly bigger her hands were from yours; how surprisingly soft her knuckles were.

Isha seems to become impatient now with her elder sister, reaching up to tug on two of her fingers. Vi nods down to her, muttering a soft ‘okay, okay’.

“Thank you for that, by the way. And if it's not too much trouble for you, cupcake, can I get your number?” Vi questions as she takes Isha’s hand in hers. “You know, for any questions about what the cake should look like and what flavor it could be.”

Your brows furrow at her words before nodding, pursing your lips to repress the smile creeping onto your face. Cupcake. You like that nickname coming from her lips.

“Right! Yes, um,” you walk over to the counter to grab a sticky note and a pen to scribble down your personal number. “Here. Call or text me with all the information.”

You place the small yellow piece of paper into her palm that wasn’t holding Isha’s. She takes it in between her pointer and middle fingers, nodding with a confident smile.

“I will. See you, cupcake.”

“See you, Vi. Bye, sweetheart,” you bend down ever so slightly to wave at Isha.

The adorable girl waves her free hand at you with a just as cute toothy smile on her face. You excused it as a sugar rush as they walk away from you, hand in hand as they leave the store. Vi turns her head to give you one more glance before Isha is tugging her down the sidewalk.

Mila angrily stormed up to you the second they left and raised her hand with the rag to smack you on the forearm. You gasp and snatch the weapon away from her, pointing a finger in her face.

“What the hell? Stop hitting me with this,” you sneer.

“I’m wiping down tables and you’re flirting? How the hell is that fair?” Mila quips back as she folds her arms in front of her chest.

“I wasn’t flirting. I was taking a cake order, by the way, so you can stop whining.” You roll your eyes as you walk back around to the counter.

Mila sucks in a deep breath before shaking her head.

“Really? So what was that whole,” your sister cleared her throat, sucking in a deep breath. “Giving her your personal number when you could’ve just given her the store's number?”

You pause your movements of wiping down the counter from behind the register, thinking about it for a moment. You knew why. You just hated your sister being all in your business.

“Okay, what is it to you?” You get defensive. “I can’t… make new friends?”

Mila merely snorts before rolling her eyes.

“Sure. You definitely only want to be friends with her.”

TAGLIST: @strawberrykidneystone @lovinglynny @kylorey25

[mv1simp]

Just Hold On, We’re Going Home ♥️

Max Verstappen x Fiancé! Reader

I got my eye on you, you’re everything that I see (I want your hot love and emotion, endlessly)

After a particularly bad argument with his father, Max is mentally checked out and needs to be pulled out of the dark place his mind has gone too. As his fiancé, you know just what to say to make him feel your love and bring him safely home.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, orgasm denial, I know I said I would never write subby max and that was apparently a LIE, but he’s more of a soft pure loverboy who needs you ok, you both have daddy issues, mild angst and childhood trauma, 3.1k WC

You can tell your fiancé’s mind is somewhere else right now, instead of at the intimate dinner you’re sharing at a cosy restaurant. You know this because you know Max well, having been friends before you two started dating, meeting as mutuals within the same extended group, and then online where you would both take a break from your demanding careers to enjoy a friendly grand theft auto competition.

Your friendship had gotten closer when you’d proved to be someone he could trust and always rely on. Especially when it came to talking about his father - a very multi layered relationship given that Max owed a large part of his F1 success to Jos’s discipline and the fact that, well, said discipline had involved emotional abuse on a good day and physical abuse on a bad one. It was a complex dynamic to unpack, and one that he didn’t really do with anyone - because he couldn’t trust anyone outside his family to not leak it to the media somehow. And within his family, the only one who came close to understanding was his little sister Victoria - who wanted to talk about it just as little as Max did.

However, you knew a thing or two about complex relationships with parents, growing up in a household with a luxury property developer tyrant of a father, and a homemaker mother who would never dare come between her husband and his demands for absolute perfection from his children, especially from you - the eldest. Similarly to Max, you owed a large part of your highly successful investment company and Oxford financial degree to your father’s attitude, which had been so sweet on days you performed, and then like a dark thunderstorm on the days you didn’t.

So you’d been the only one to see the look in Max’s eye one night when he’d had one too many to drink at a house party, and had wandered out into the garden by himself. You’d spotted him leaving, already having a growing soft spot for your friend at that stage, and had followed him out. It had taken you a while to find him amongst the dark sprawling bushes, but when you did, you promptly sat down next to the much taller Dutchman and didn’t ask him anything. Instead, you told him about the time you’d scored 99.9 on a notoriously difficult advanced calculus exam, and you’d proudly told your father about the result of your months of study, top in your class - and he’d responded by coldly demanding why you didn’t get the 100. What’d you say to him? Max slurred, morbidly intrigued by the story.

Nothing, I was way too upset I'd disappointed him. But I did go fight the Mathematics head professor about giving me the extra 0.1. You shrugged, telling him you probably should’ve just gone to frickin family therapy instead and saved yourself arguing for 45 minutes only to find out 99.9 was the highest possible mark anyways.

Max looked at you, blue eyes intense in the moonlight. You in turn looked back at him with nervous doe eyes, and when he didn’t say anything, anxiously started apologising. Perhaps you’d read his emotions wrong, you didn’t mean to overstep and relate to his own relationship with his father-

Max cuts you off to explain what had been on his mind. I’m sorry, you - you argued for 45 minutes with the department head for an extra 0.1? On top of 99.9? This time, when your gazes meet, you both burst into drunk giggles at the sheer absurdity of a five foot nothing, 15 year old schoolgirl going toe to toe with a grumpy old professor for such a thing.

He’d started opening up to you after that, bit by bit peeling back the onion layers, because you always met his confessions with no judgement because this was his narrative, and helped him reflect on his emotions and understand why, 20 years on, he still couldn't accept a compliment but easily responded to insults. And when you two finally became a couple after a very convoluted weekend in Ibiza - involving multiple schemes from both parties, various slutty outfit choices from Max that showed off his abs, and your use of one (1) Charles Leclerc to make his Dutch childhood karting rival jealous (a story for another time) - you’d heard the full tale of what Max’s upbringing had been like.

And now, 5 years on from the infamous Ibiza weekend, and sitting across from him at dinner as his fiancée, you know instantly from the look in his eyes what's troubling him. You touch his large hand gently to draw him back in, and with a startle he comes back to you, apologising. It’s been a shit last few races, yeah? You start, going straight to the source of his worries. And now a big one this weekend, Zandvoort, your home race.

Max sighs, nodding, grateful for your ability to pick up on what's on his mind without him needing to say it. On your drive home he rants passionately about all the bullshit decisions his team has been making and the problems with the car he's asked to get fix for months. You soothe him reassuringly, rubbing his hand where it rests firmly on your thigh as his other drives, chiming in to agree with his critiques and make him laugh with jokes to diffuse his tension.

And that night he shows you just how thankful he is for all your understanding, picking you up in a display of strength that always has you needy and dripping for him. He smirks as you beg him to take you to bed and fuck me, please Maxie, after he has you breathlessly stretched out on his large, thick fingers. Like the good fiance he is he gives you what you want, all his stress melting away with each strong thrust into your small frame underneath him, your tiny hands clinging desperately to his broad shoulders.

You're furious the next morning when you wake up to multiple calls that there'd been a massive PR scandal within one of your principal investing companies, sending your high profile clients into panic - including your father, who demanded you fly out to London right now to sort this out. You'd been ready to send your executive manager out instead, not wanting to miss this important race for Max - but he'd chuckled and reassured you he was sure he could handle it - having done some odd 200 races or another. So after giving him a guilty kiss, you two fly off in opposite directions. You'd meant to have arrived to the paddock by Saturday noon at the latest, in time for qualifying at least, but London takes longer than expected. You don't come until halfway through the race on Sunday, and see him take P2 after multiple mistakes on the track - both from him and his team. Despite the objectively good result, you know Max would not be pleased. Seeing the stormy expression on his face on the podium after he'd tersely greeted you post-race, you give him his space to cool off, knowing it's not personal. Instead you catch up with the other WAGs and laugh at Charles who still faintly blushes at the sight of you, thinking about Ibiza. But later, when you head to the Redbull garage, you hear raised voices arguing in Dutch - before Jos emerges from Max's room and storms away. You pause before deciding to go in, gently asking how he's doing.

Max, as you expected, scoffs and sarcastically asks how do you think he's doing. You continue reassuring him, being used to seeing him like this after a bad race, and place a soft hand on his shoulder to soothe him - only for him to rip it off you almost violently, making you flinch in surprise. He yells at you to stop pretending like you understood a damn thing, as if you'd have any idea what kind of high pressure he has to deal with compared to your comfortable office job.

You manage to hold it together as you tell him you're going to leave, you'll be flying back to Monaco and will talk to him there once he's calmed down. He rolls his eyes, telling you to get out, then and you make sure you're well away from the paddock and in the privacy of a car before you left yourself cry. Max had definitely been angry around you before, even enraged - but you'd never felt the full brunt of it come out and attack you so directly. Taking a deep breath, you focus on calming yourself down, as the argument brings up your anxieties from your own father - who had no problem raising his voice when he was angry. By the time you land in Monaco, you're ready to head back to the office, where you end up accidentally sleeping on your couch after tidying up the rest of your PR scandal.

The next day as you're coming home from work, unlocking the door to your shared apartment with Max, you stumble forward when the door is yanked open. On the other side is your rather panicked looking fiancee, who says that he'd thought that you- he swallows, looking like he was about to be sick -that you'd left. Forever. Perplexed, you tell him that you’d never do that, not without talking to him, and he launches into a frantic apology, saying that he regretted his words so much, that you didn't deserve to have him take his anger out onto you. Grateful for the sincere apology, you let him know with a genuine smile, saying that you're completely okay now, you had understood he’d been frustrated in the heat of the moment.

But Max's worried looks at you don't stop as you wander off to take a shower and then continue over your favourite dinner that he'd cooked, uncomfortable with the compliments you gave him about it - as per usual, still struggling to accept a kind word about anything he did. When you feel his upset gaze on you again when you're cuddled against his shirtless chest, watching a movie, you decide enough is enough and pressed pause to gently ask him what was on his mind.

That I just let all my anger out onto you like that without any hesitation. And the things I said about your job not being important - God, it’s something my dad would have said. His guilt at having hurt you with his cruel words make his blue eyes bright with the threat of tears. He says he couldn't just accept that you'd let it go because you thought it was fine, because it wasn't, not really, don't ever let me speak to you like that again, schat.

Bringing yourself up to straddle your fiance's wide lap, you settle in comfortably and closely examine the helpless look in his pretty eyes. It's rare for Max to get so worked about something like this, being the rather laid back guy he is off the track. But when he does get like this, all pent up from stress, his father’s expectations heavy on one shoulder and the fear of turning out like him on the other, there’s very few ways to pull him out of his head. Gun to your head, you’ll admit, you had your own personal favourite method for helping Max unwind. Because on nights like these, it's the the only time he'll hand the control over to you in the bedroom and the only place where he'll accept your compliments. With a teasing smile, you pepper him with gentle kisses, erasing away every tense line on his face.

Sure, Max you whisper breathily into his ear, biting the edge of it, I guess I did forgive you too easily. Maybe I should make you work for it, hmm? A delicious pink flush spreads across Max's cheeks, making you grin wickedly and press deep kisses into his soft mouth. He breathlessly whines when you pull away to tease your hand down his muscles chest, stopping just above his low waisted sweats. You can already feel how hard he is underneath you with the impressive semi he’s sporting. Choosing to ignore it, you climb off him and pull him along with you too. He follows you like a lost dog to where you walk over to the kitchen, dropping your hoodie as you went, to reveal a cute La Perla pink set underneath that he'd given you for an anniversary.

When you stop to lean against the counter, eyeing him coyly, he tilts his head down curiously - only to have you tangle your small hands through his messy, long locks and guide him all the way down, until he's on his knees below you. He looks positively delicious, all soft and flushed, as you coo that he needs to prove just how sorry he is, by putting that mean mouth of his to work and eating you out, yeah?

He nods eagerly, burying his large nose right into your core and breathing in, licking furiously through your thin panties and when he tries to yank the lacy garment out of the way, you swat his hand back, telling him no, not yet, he didn’t deserve it.

He whines openly then, teary and breathless against you as he kisses along your thighs, the swell of your ass, and then to your delicate ankle as you teasingly stop him coming any closer with a foot to his toned chest, your gold anklet dangling. Running a hand through his hair again, you tug on it firmly so you can smirk down at him when he begs you please, schat, I promise I’ll be s'good for you-

Your resolve is crumbling at seeing your normally in control fiancé reduced to putty in your small hands. Trying to maintain your willpower, you teasingly pull your pink bralette off first, enjoying the way Max's breath hitches, eyes wide with pure need, as he follows your hands ever so slowly slide your panties down your legs. But he still doesn't move, fists clenched into his thighs, desperate blue eyes looking up at you, waiting for your approval to touch you. You throw him a bone and slide one soft thigh over his broad shoulder, your other leg still leaning against the counter, giving him irresistible access to your dripping pussy. Go on then, baby, you tease, here's your reward.

He buries his tongue into you in half a millisecond, eating you out like he's kneeling at your altar and worshipping your thighs. His large hands squeeze your curvy ass, pulling you even closer onto his tongue as he hungrily eats you out like a starved man. You're moaning sweetly, telling him he's doing so good for you, it feels amazing, that you wonder how the world would react if they knew their favourite F1 champion was as good at eating pussy as he was at driving racecars.

Your praise has him keening, now desperately kissing and sucking your core, and somehow both your thighs have ended up draped across his strong shoulders, his large palms still squeezing your ass. This angle lets him slide in deeper than you’ve ever felt his mouth reach, face completely buried between your thick thighs, and with a few more talented flicks you’re lean back against the counter and squirting right onto his waiting tongue.

Dazed from the intensity of your orgasm, it takes you a few minutes to come down from your high, and Max slowly licks your clit in the meantime, toeing the line to overstimulation. Standing back up shakily from potentially the most mind blowing oral you've ever had in your life, you tilt his chin up to look at you with a gentle hand, giving him a kiss because he was such a good boy, all for me, yeah baby?

He nods furiously, almost looking like a cute Labrador with his blonde hair and blue eyes and you giggle at the mental image, telling him he’s earned his next treat. Max practically stumbles after you as you gently tug him up by his jaw and back over to the comfortable sofa, where he sits down after you playfully shove his chest. His muscular thighs spread wide to make a perfect throne for you to climb onto. He's still in his boxers, his bulge straining against the damp material, and you tease him with a smug smirk, asking if he'd already cum in his pants just from eating you out, like a dirty little perv?

He desperately moans out his No, no, promise I didn’t, held it all back to fill inside you, please- He becomes breathless from your mean hands that tease his cock further through his boxers. When he tried to redirect you, guiding your hand under his boxers to where he really needs it, you shove him away and tell him to keep his hands to himself. You demand to know why he thinks he deserves to put his gross, sticky cum anywhere near your sweet, precious hole, is he at least going to use some manners and ask politely?

Max pants, face flushed and blonde strands attractively stuck to his forehead as he feverishly begs you, please, schat, he needed to be inside of you so bad, he couldn't take it, hadn't he been so good for you already? You can tell your fiance is close to his tipping point, and you almost send him over the edge with a smooth motion as you slip his fully erect, huge cock out of his boxers and start lazily jerking him off. Sliding your fingers into his mouth for him to lick, you smirk as he does exactly that. Using his spit on your hands to give him a couple good pumps - making his breath hitch as he struggles to hold back his orgasm - you guide his throbbing length to your dripping pussy, which is so ready for a second round.

Max screws his eyes shut, head thrown back, as you wickedly torment him some more, dragging his tip teasingly along your puffy lips, drenching him with your slick. His hands dig into the sofa, desperately trying to resist the urge to touch you like you'd ordered him to earlier. And when you finally sink down on him, all the way to his base, he's moaning and begging again, tears in the corner of his eyes as you slowly ride him - edging his poor cock with the relief of your tight, warm cunny but not giving it quite enough pressure. And when your thighs are starting to get tired from the effort, and Max has ripped holes on your sofa while gripping the fabric, you know it's time to let him take control again.

Guiding his hands gently to your waist, you lean forward into his firm chest to whisper Maxie, baby, it's too much for you, can he please help you out and make you cum again-

His eyes snap open, wide blue eyes coming to stare into your pleading doe ones as you hand the power over to him, all dished up on a silver platter with a pretty please. He brings his forehead forward to lean against yours, your ragged breaths meeting as you feel shivers run up your spine in anticipation of what’s coming. Then, with an all too familiar smirk returning to his face, he tightens his hands into a bruising grip on your waist and easily begins bouncing you up and down on his fat cock. His wide thighs, which had been straining in an effort to hold back, now flex as he thrusts deeply into you from below, making you wail at the furious change in pace and you're screaming his name, proving once again just how good he makes you feel. You two barely last another few seconds before you're cumming, your name on his lips as he pumps an obscenely thick creampie into you.

You stay like that for a while, sweaty and tangled in each others arms, exchanging gentle kisses and loving affirmations with him still deep inside you, until sleep starts to take over. Later, after you'd showered because wow, that had been a particularly filthy session, you find yourself stroking his damp hair as he lies against your chest, the rest of his body on the bed to keep the weight off you. Thank you, liefje, he murmurs sleepily against you. At your inquisitive hmm? he presses a loving kiss to your skin, telling you his thanks was for always knowing how to calm me down. For always bringing me back home. I love you.

You smile in the dark, warmth blooming across your chest as you press a kiss to his head. Always, Max, just like you do for me. I love you too.

---------------------------------------------------------

A/N: SOO i never thought i'd write this but after zandervoot im manifesting the return of max supremacy with this. had to rewrite a bunch of times cause genuinly couldn’t picture max as sub instead of dom so lmk what u guys think!! Also… should i do a part 2 where its the reader with daddy issues instead hehehe 😼😼😮‍💨

[nicka-nell]

omg ur taking requests!

can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)

Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭

Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.

Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.

Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹

And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚

Regretting their actions

Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader

Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)

Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

tw: mention of break-up

You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.

The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”

More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”

You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.

And then it happened…

You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...

“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.

Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe. 

>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<

It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.

Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.

Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.

You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”

Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.

Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.

Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.

Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.

He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.

You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...

As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”

Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.

Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.

But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.

Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.

You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.

Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.

So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought. 

But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.

And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.

Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…

Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…

Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing. 

Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit. 

That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?

But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.

“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.

But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.

“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.

“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.

“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.

”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.

“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.

“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.

You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.

“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”

tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood

You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.

But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.

You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.

At least for the first few years.

The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.

If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.

Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.

More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”

And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.

You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.

Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.

You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.

“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.

“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.

“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!” he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.

Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.

Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.

His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.

Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.

He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.

He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.

“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”

It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.

You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.

What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.

He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.

In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.

When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry? 

“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.

“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.

“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.

“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”

A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.

Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.

He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.

Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are. 

Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.

“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.

“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.

tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent) 

Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.

You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.

You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick. 

With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.

That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.

The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.

A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?

He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.

From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.

Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.

Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.

You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.

You thought…

When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.

Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test. 

“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.” 

His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that. 

The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.

Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.

“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.

But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.

Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.

So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.

He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.

Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.

“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.

Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.

He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.

Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.

But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.

“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.

“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.

Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.

Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.

Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.

You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.

He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.

This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.

His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.

Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.

“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.

You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.

Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.

“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.

I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.

Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.

I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”

You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.

There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?

You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.

Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.

“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.

“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”

Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down. 

“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.

[midnightarcheress]

woke up wanting to write something with my pretty boy kyle and this was born.

cw: nsfw. f!reader. gaz obsessing over the pretty college girl by his side. implied future stalking ig? unedited. part one | part two

someone catches Kyle’s attention on the plane.

his legs are on the verge of cramping and his breath is ragged, running to board his connection flight at the last call. after falling off a helicopter twice in the last operations, he developed an uneasiness of flying, no matter the aircraft, preferring taking the train over being miles up in the air, even if it triples the travel. but this time, he just wanted to get home the fastest way possible for a much-needed night of sleep in his own bed, instead of the barely cushioned military-issued mattress.

he hopped on the plane and made his way through the corridor, gaze fixed on the numbers under the luggage rack, attentively looking for his spot. he stopped by row thirteen, eyes darting between the number and the woman on the window seat. i could’ve sworn i marked that one when i booked? Kyle checks the boarding ticket again – row 13, seat A. it’s the right seat, why is there someone on it? 

an annoyed sigh escapes his lips, gathering the energy to speak up and reclaim his rightfully bought seat. the problem is, he gets ultimately struck when the seat-thief notices him standing and turns to face him. wide eyes meet his brown ones, immediately softening at the sight of your tempting glossy lips and delicate fingers pushing a lock of hair behind your ear. pretty little thing.

“i’m sorry, is this your seat? it was empty on the first flight,” you say, an apologetic tone in your voice as you frantically close the book on your lap and shove it in a bag, “i’ll move back for you–”

“it’s alright, keep it.” he interrupts, throwing his carry-on in the rack and taking the empty middle spot beside you. he smirks at your appreciative nod and watches you settling again on the backrest, buckling the seatbelt at the shining signal hovering your heads and paying extra attention to the flight attendant announcements, even when no one around seems to care. sweet girl, so considerate to everyone.

the plane starts speeding on the runway, and from his peripheral he views your squeezed eyes and nearly white fingers gripping the armrest, breathing quickening during the gravity push of the take off. it takes a moment for you to release your tight grasp and exhale, making his hand twitch with an urge to soothe you, tell you that you’re safe.

he shakes the sensation and leans his head back, focusing on the one thing he can do to pass the time – sleep. but he can’t keep his gaze out of you, glancing to his left whenever you make a movement, no matter how small. the rapid keyboard tapping guides his irises to your laptop screen, catching a few words in a sea of what for him sounds like an alien language. DNA strand? allele? locus mutation?

he sneaks a look through your figure and his eyes land on the familiar blue logo on your hoodie, the same one he always sees on the walk from the market to his flat. uni a couple blocks from me. do you live on campus? or nearby? that neighborhood is awful at night, full of old blokes searching the pubs for a quick fuck with a naive college girl. but you seem smart, not the type to fall for their tricks, right?

the harder he tries to avoid your presence, the more you make yourself known, almost making him feel like it’s on purpose. the way your plump lips wrap on the water bottle, slight drop scaping on the corner and trailing down your neck, your flowery perfume filling his nostrils when you shift on your seat to remove the top layer of your clothing, exposing the low-cut blouse underneath and the soft roundness of your tits. is that for me, sweet girl? need a break from studying so hard? the sudden tightness of his trousers brings him back to his senses, stirring the thought out of his brain. 

keep it cool, Garrick, he repeats over and over in his mind, ignoring the tent forming on his lap and praying to whatever god is out there that you won’t see it, even while standing up and brushing your legs on his knees to get to the corridor due the cramped space. however, he doesn’t miss how the guy by his side shamelessly ogles your cleavage when you step past him, making his blood boil and his fists clench – like he wasn’t doing the same exact thing minutes before.

while you're away, he glances at your screen again, noticing the constant message notifications from the contact ‘Marcus - DO NOT ANSWER’. already looking bad for you, mate. curiosity takes hold of him and he starts reading the texts, silently chuckling at the guy’s pathetic attempts to get your attention. what did he do to earn a cold shoulder, sweetheart? did he hurt you? didn’t he pay enough attention to you? i bet he couldn’t even fuck you the way you deserve. 

he keeps skimming the messages until the grin tugging on the corners of his mouth fades into a frown when he reads ‘you’re gonna regret leaving me’. now, who’s this prick? think you’ll get away with threatening my girl?

his body stiffens when you come back, eyes darting back to the small telly in front of him when your hand brushes on his thigh while sitting once again. he hears your irritated huff when you skim through the messages, shutting the laptop with near violence. i can take care of him for you, love. you won’t have to deal with that by yourself anymore. 

the pilot’s muffled voice coming through the speakers and announcing the landing shortens his daydreams about getting rid of Marcus. it would be a great way to keep himself busy while on leave, making sure to do it fast and secretly, of course, just to protect his sweet little thing. poor guy wouldn’t even know what hit him.

the pressure change on his ear is the telltale sign of the aircraft lowering its altitude, landing gear out to hit the lane and brake the machine. he turns to the side, watching again your knitted eyebrows and how your nails dig into the seat. this time he doesn’t contain himself and his hand gently lingers over yours, the softness of it sending lightning strikes over his body and almost making him cum instantly. 

your glinting eyes find his face with a grateful gaze, lips mouthing a sugary thank you when the plane finally stops. he helps you take your handbag out of the rack with ease, using the situation to flaunt his muscles. i can even pick you up, darling. would love to feel your pretty thighs around my waist. you wouldn’t have to walk a day in your life. 

his eyes follow the sway of your hips through the airport, heart almost bursting when you wave goodbye and flash him a timid smile. you think that’s the last time you’ll see him, he thinks this is just the beginning. a name and university? he’s used to finding people with even less information. see you soon, sweet girl.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Some of @render-me-usless' Fav Fics!

If you want to make me a list let me know in IM. You can do whatever you want, fave fics, fav tropes or even check out the pending asks page and fill one of those.

Where to Search for Snow by suburbanmotel

(1/1 I 8,954 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles and his Gigantic Repressed Feelings accidentally affect the weather. A lot. Like. A lot.

//

  “It’s snowing, Stiles,” says Derek.

Stiles looks up. He nods. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

Derek looks at him. “It’s snowing, Stiles. In your bedroom.”

Stiles and the Seven Wolves by SylvieW

(1/1 I 10,421 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles is Snow White, Kate is the Evil Queen, and when Chris the Huntsman doesn't kill him, he runs off to live with seven werewolves.

Somewhere to Start by Lissadiane

(1/1 I 33,552 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles has always known that he isn't quite human - the plant life that tends to sprout around him whenever he gets upset or excited gives it away. He's never really fit in among the regular people in Beacon Hills and is determined to wait it out, go to college, and find somewhere to belong. He's forced to abandon those plans, however, after he desperately agrees to enter into an arranged marriage to save his father's life.

An arranged marriage with an angry, sometimes furry dude with trust issues. It's all very Beauty and the Beast, without the singing candlesticks.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(2/2 I 81,018 I Teen I Sterek)

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth.

“Not too close, he bites.”

Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting.

“He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton.

The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.”

“Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek.

He looked extremely displeased.

Three Marks by sanam

(8/8 I 113,736 I Mature I Sterek)

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse

(25/25 I 115,506 I Explicit I Sterek)

"I'm sorry, I believe there's something wrong with my hearing," Stiles said. "Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me."

Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn't misheard a damn thing.

After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.

Months later, there's an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won't last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott's brother.

In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.

Black and Blue by charlotteinlace

(50/50 I 209,549 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles knows what he should be doing, finding a good Dom and seeing a few dozen therapists. But that shit can wait, right now he's got a gang to infiltrate and a murderer to find. A murderer who killed his father.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Cw: a little suggestive so maybe 18+only, I’m just kinda playing around to figure out his voice ygm?

Dick Grayson who’s the world’s biggest flirt and doesn’t mind one bit that you’re the feistiest thing he’s ever come across.

“You know, I could always help you spar, get your hand eye coordination up to my levels,” he’s still the dorky gymnast kid he’s always been- just older and a lot hotter.

You’d been in the league with him and went solo when he’d founded the Titans but he still pops up every now and then to tease and get under your skin like he’d done when he’d still been Robin.

“And what level would that be Grayson? Second base?” Your chest is heaving as you stand, body dripping in sweat from your latest sequence.

Dick knows you don’t really need pointers, but how else is he going to make a show of wanting to be around you.

“I’m wounded,” he places his hands on his chest and leans forward, the perfect opening for you to swipe your foot at his legs and have him falling forward.

Instead, the stupid (read:sexy, cocky, egoistic, did you say sexy yet?) man jumps over the anticipated attack and flips you onto your back.

“You wound me, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes and flip you both over, so you’re hovering over him.

“I really might,” he winks at you as you stand and you shake your head. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Dick stands, takes your towel and wipes his face and then leans on the doorframe.

“Came to check in on my girl, that so bad?” You get up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips.

“Missed you,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands holding your waist tight as he pulls you closer. “Spend the night with me?” He trails his nose against your jaw, his lips stamping kisses under your neck on the myriad of beauty marks you have that make your knees weak.

“Dick,” you grumble, hands sinking in his hair. “Fine,” you try to keep your voice all gruff and steady but he knows better. He feels the jump in your pulse, his ears are insanely attuned to you so he hears the little hitch in your breath too.

“Don’t sound so excited,” he pulls away with a smug smile and you know you’ve got a hickey somewhere on your neck. “Meet you by the bike in ten?”

“If you think I’m getting on that thing with you Grayson, you haven’t missed me enough.” There’s a poorly hidden smile on your face as you back out of the training room.

“Whatever you say, gorgeous. I’ll be by the bike.”

You don’t protest much when you step outside, dressed all pretty with your duffel bag full of clothes and whatever else you might need and find Dick leaning on his car- a midnight blue that puzzles you on how no one figured him out to be Nightwing for so long.

“Such a liar,” he takes your bag from you, chucking it into the trunk as you reach for the door.

“Touch that handle and we’ll have issues,” your hand drops immediately. “Didn’t want you to feel all desperate having to rub up on me the entire ride back to our place.”

The way he says it, our place, warms your heart. You and Dick had the roughest time getting accustomed to each other and now that ease, that familiarity, that willingness to share something so intimate and it be easy- it makes everything you’d both undergone worth it.

“Yeah b’cause I’m the desperate one between us,” He smiles as he buckles your seatbelt for you.

“Glad you could admit it, gorgeous.” He kisses you then closes the door before you can complain and all you hear is his laugh as he rounds the car to get in.

[dorothylarouge]

Dorothy's Big List of Comic Book Recs - DC Comics Edition

I often get asks about getting into comic books, and how daunting it seems, given the huge back catalog of titles and issues available. I'm here to tell you it doesn't have to be scary! From miniseries that act as good introductions to characters to runs on ongoing titles by individual creators that serve on jumping-on points, there's lots of ways to get into comics without having to have a lot of background knowledge, and I'm going to give you a lot of potential places to start. Please note that this post only covers DC Comics; Marvel and indie lists will follow! Also note that I haven't read everything, and I won't recommend something I haven't read, so a few runs or books some consider must-reads may not be on here. This is based purely on books I have read and enjoy, and that I think are suitable for new readers. I'm also not including books from the Milestone and Wildstorm imprints as they're kind of a separate sphere to me, although some Vertigo books may be included.

SUPERMAN

All-Star Superman by Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely: This is the book that made me a Superman fan. It is an out-of-continuity celebration of Superman and his world, and an exploration of why Superman as a character has endured for nearly a century.

Superman For All Seasons by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale: A gorgeously-illustrated and Americana-flavored recounting of Superman's early years in Metropolis, anchored narratively by the changing of the seasons.

Superman: Birthright by Mark Waid and Lenil Francis Yu: For my money, the definitive origin story for Superman. Great characterization of the entire supporting cast, including Lex Luthor, make this a perfect entry point into the character and his world.

Action Comics (1939) and Superman (1939) by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster: The earliest Superman stories are still really great, and have a populist edge that many later stories sanded down. They're pulpy and fun and I recommend them!

Action Comics (2011) by Grant Morrison: This run spans issues 1-18, plus a special issue 0, of the series launched as part of DC's mostly-failed 2011 reboot, and covers Superman's early years in this continuity. The early issues bring back some of the edge that was present in the Golden Age comics, and the rest of the run is solid stuff as well. Morrison always comes highly recommended.

Superman: Red and Blue: An athology series that focuses on a broad sampling of Superman's world and supporting cast, written and drawn by various creators.

Action Comics (1939) by Geoff Johns: Specifically, I would say that issues 855 to 870 are a good span to be checking out for Geoff Johns' run on the book. These include some great stories focusing on classic Superman villains such as Bizarro, Toyman, and Brainiac.

Superman Smashes the Klan by Gene Luen Yang and Guruhiru: An adaptation of a classic Superman radio story set in the 1940s and focusing on Superman's place as an immigration narrative. And Superman gets to rough up some Klansmen!

Man and Superman by Marv Wolfman and Claudio Castellini: Another story of Superman's early years, this one focusing on his struggles to adapt to life in the big city after moving from Smallville, as well as his first encounters with Lois Lane and Lex Luthor.

Superman: Up in the Sky by Tom King and Andy Kubert: A lovely self-contained story which demonstrates just how far Superman will go to save a single life.

Superman (1939) by Elliot S! Maggin: This mammoth run spans issues 247 to 400 of the classic title, and includes some fantastic stories such as "Must There Be a Superman?" (issue 247), "The Greatest Green Lantern of All" (issue 257), and "The Living Legends of Superman" (issue 400)

Superman (1939), Adventure Comics (1938) and Action Comics (1939) by Mort Weisinger: This run spans a lot of the Silver Age era of Superman, including Action Comics #241-392, Superman #120-231, and Adventure Comics #247-396. It's a lot of issues, but in those days you can mostly read them in any order since they're pretty self-contained. This run includes a lot of classic villains and stories, as well as the earliest adventures of the Legion of Super-Heroes.

Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow by Tom King and Bliquis Evely: A spacefaring take on a True Grit-style western with gorgeous art, and a definitive story for the Girl of Steel.

Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olsen (2019) by Matt Fraction and Steve Liber: a madcap romp and a delightful sendup of Silver Age weirdness.

BATMAN

Batman: The Long Halloween and Batman: Dark Victory by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale: Another Loeb/Sale joint, focusing on Batman's earlier years and the transition of Gotham's underworld from the mob to a coterie of costumed kooks.

Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth by Grant Morrison and Dave McKean: An examination of the facility housing Batman's rogues, and what those rogues symbolize in his world.

Batman (1940) by Dennis O'Neil: This is a classic run which re-established a dark tone for the Dark Knight which has endured to this day. The run spans Batman #224-268, along with a handful of issues of Detective Comics. Among the major developments of this run are the introduction of Ra's al Ghul and his daughter Talia.

Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying by Marv Wolfman, George Perez, and Jim Aparo: The definitive story about why Batman needs Robin. Read it in trade since the story spans both the Batman and New Titans titles.

Batman by Grant Morrison: I'm hesitant to include this because it delves so deep into Batman lore, but it really is essential reading, introducing Damian Wayne along with other concepts. Please do disregard Morrison's frankly appalling characterization of Talia. Read in omnibus format as the run spans multiple titles.

Batman: The Killing Joke by Alan Moore and Brian Bolland: It's cliche at this point but the story still is fantastic and one of the best Joker stories ever written.

Batman: No Man's Land: An epic storyline across many titles dealing with Gotham being cut off from the US after a massive earthquake and Batman's efforts to keep the peace in an abandoned city. Read in trade format.

Batman (2011) by Scott Snyder: This run spans issues 1 through 51 of the New 52 relaunch, and introduces concepts such as the Court of Owls. It's a fun run, including a brief period where Jim Gordon acts as Batman.

Batwoman (2011) by J.H. Williams III and W. Hayden Blackman: A gorgeously-illustrated book about Batman's cousin and her adventures as the Batwoman. Worth reading for the art alone.

Nightwing (1996) by Chuck Dixon: Dixon's a tool but this is still the definitive Nightwing run. This run includes volume 1 of Nightwing, a 4-issue mini, as well as issues 1-70 of volume 2, which establishes Dick's home base of Bludhaven as well as his rogues' gallery.

Detective Comics (1937) by Paul Dini: This run spans issues 821 to 852, and features some great stories by one of the great Batman writers and a co-creator of the classic animated series.

Robin (2021) by Joshua Williamson: A great run that helps to flesh out Damian Wayne's place in the DC Universe.

The Boy Wonder by Juni Ba: A great story with gorgeous art that focuses on Damian Wayne and his relationships with the other members of the Batman Family.

Batgirl (2000): The first series to focus on a Batgirl, specifically Cassandra Cain, the best Batgirl, as she struggles to adapt to life after an abusive childhood being raised as an assassin.

WONDER WOMAN

Wonder Woman (2006) by Gail Simone: Simone's run is the longest that a woman has ever written comics' premiere female superhero, and it's just good comic book fun. The run spans issues 14 to 44.

Wonder Woman (1987) by Phil Jimenez: Jimenez's childhood love of Wonder Woman shines through in his run, which placed a renewed focus on Diana's supporting cast and especially her family. The run spans issues 164 to 188.

Wonder Woman (1942) and Sensation Comics (1942) by William Moulton Marston: Wonder Woman's creator laid down the basics of the character and her world, and those early Golden Age stories are still a great read. They're fun, engaging - and more than a little kinky with hindsight.

Wonder Woman (1987) by Greg Rucka: In the early 21st century, Greg Rucka was The Guy for writing female superheroes, and his run on Wonder Woman is great. It features Diana becoming an ambassador, writing a book, fighting Medusa, and matching wits with Veronica Cale, her own Lex Luthor. The run spans 196-226. I must also mention Wonder Woman: The Hiketeia, also by Rucka, which is a Greek tragedy where Diana finds herself torn between duty and justice.

Wonder Woman Historia: The Amazons by Kelly Sue DeConnick: A beautifully-illustrated story of the Amazons and the Greek goddesses, which lays the foundations for Wonder Woman's world.

Wonder Woman (1987) by George Perez: This run reintroduced Diana after Crisis on Infinite Earths, and the first 25 issues feature Perez's simply-unmatched artwork. The whole run spans the first 62 issues of the book, and serves as a blueprint for most subsequent takes on the character.

THE FLASH

Flash Comics (1940) and All-Flash (1941): The Golden Age Flash and his early stories by his creator Gardner Fox. Must-read if you're interested in Jay Garrick, the first Flash.

Showcase #4, 8, and 13, and The Flash (1959): The Silver Age Flash, Barry Allen, made his debut and early adventures here. Much of the art is by the great Carmine Infantino, and Gardner Fox returned to write some stories. The whole concept of the multiverse debuted in this run.

The Flash (1987) by Mark Waid (as well as Grant Morrison and Mark Millar): This run starts in issue 62 and lasts until 162, with a brief run by Grant Morrison and Mark Millar towards the end. This run is the definitive Flash run, focusing on Barry Allen's protege Wally West maturing in the role of the Flash and establishing himself as the true fastest man alive.

The Flash (1987) by Geoff Johns: This run spans issues 164 to 225, and refocuses the Flash's traditional rogues' gallery, offering modern origins for many of them, while also introducing new foes like Girder, Blacksmith, and a new Reverse-Flash.

The Flash (2016) by Joshua Williamson: This run spans issues 1-88, as well as 750 to 762 of the relaunched volume 1 of the book. I hate the recentering of Barry Allen from 2009 to 2019, but Williamson's run is the most tolerable, and serves as a love letter to the Flash, while also setting the stage for Wally to return as the primary holder of the mantle.

The Flash (2023) by Simon Spurrier: The current run of the Flash, it focuses on Wally as the main Flash and the Flash Family as an ensemble. The extended first arc features a threat to time itself, and goes into some really surreal and experimental territory for a Flash book.

Impulse (1995) by Mark Waid, et al.: A more lighthearted and comedic companion book to Waid's run on Flash, this book focuses on Bart Allen, Barry's grandson, who was raised in the future and has the attention span of a goldfish, as well as his relationship with the zen guru of speed, Max Mercury.

GREEN LANTERN

The Green Lantern (2018) by Grant Morrison: A police procedural starring Hal Jordan that gets into some pretty freaky territory, with gorgeous interiors by Liam Sharp.

Green Lanterns (2016) by Sam Humphries: A buddy cop type title focusing on the team of Simon Baz and Jessica Cruz. Humphries' run spans the first 32 issues of the book.

Far Sector by N.K. Jemisin and Jamal Campbell: A murder mystery in space which establishes a new Green Lantern, Jo Mullein. Super easy to get ahold of since it was rereleased as part of DC's Compact Comics line of $9.99 trades.

Green Lantern/Green Arrow (1970) by Dennis O'Neil and Neal Adams: This run brought a social conscience to comics as Green Arrow was reinvented as a left-winger and a man of the 60s counterculture, joining Green Lantern on a quest across America. The run spans issues 76 to 89 of the book.

Green Lantern (1990) by Ron Marz. Marz's run starts in issue 48, and sees the Green Lantern paragon Hal Jordan descend into darkness before being replaced as defender of Earth by Kyle Rayner. The run lasts until issue 125, and as Kyle is my favorite Lantern I have a fondness for it.

Green Lantern (2005) 1-67 and (2011) 0-20 by Geoff Johns: Johns brought Hal Jordan back as the main GL, and his run expanded the world of Green Lantern by introducing the emotional spectrum. His run is the basis for most Green Lantern lore going forward, and is pretty essential reading.

Green Lantern: War Journal by Phillip Kennedy Johnson and Montos: A 12-issue series featuring John Stewart as he ventures into space to fight a dark force corrupting life in the galaxy. The new definitive John Stewart run.

TEAMS AND TEAM-UPS

JLA by Grant Morrison, Mark Waid, Joe Kelly, et al.: This was a back-to-basics approach to the Justice League with a core group of characters. Morrison's run on the book is probably the best, but Waid and Kelly also bring in some good stories.

Justice League of America (2007) by Brad Meltzer and Dwayne McDuffie: Another relaunch of the time, this time with a large roster inspired by the classic 1970s era of the League. Some great stories in this run, including a crossover with the Milestone characters.

JSA (1999) by Geoff Johns, Paul Levitz: The first team in comics was relaunched in the 90s by Geoff Johns, who established the Justice Society as a family first, later bringing in the Marvel Family for some great stories fleshing out Black Adam's character.

Justice Society of America (2007) by Geoff Johns: Johns' second run on the JSA is a continuation of the first, with a focus on legacy and new heroes reclaiming the mantles of Golden Age heroes. Introduces the delightful Maxine Hunkel as the wind-powered Cyclone.

New Teen Titans by Marv Wolfman and George Perez: Lightning in a bottle. This book likely saved DC after the disastrous DC Implosion. The best Titans run of all time, quality of art and writing that has never been recaptured with this team. If you loved the cartoon as a kid you will love this book.

Young Justice by Peter David and Todd Nauck: For all intents and purposes, the Teen Titans for the 90s generation. Funny, heartfelt, with great cartoony art by Nauck.

Doom Patrol (1987) by Grant Morrison, Rachel Pollack: A truly, wonderfully weird tale of the most off-beat superheroes of all, with themes of identity, life, and art woven throughout.

The Terrifics by Jeff Lemire, Gene Luen Yang: At a time when Marvel was treating the Fantastic Four like dirt, DC put out their own version, which captures the wonderous adventure of a Silver Age science fiction book with some great character work from a great core cast. A thoroughly underrated title.

Suicide Squad (1987) by John Ostrander: An often darkly-humorous book about a team of second-string supervillains coerced into doing the government's dirty work. The definitive Suicide Squad run.

Villains United (2005), Secret Six (2006), and Secret Six (2008) by Gail Simone: A group of supervillains forced together by circumstance and find themselves working together as mercenaries. A real found family of freaks type of situation.

Legion of Super-Heroes by Paul Levitz and Keith Giffen: This run spans issues 282 to 313 of the 1980 book, and 1 to 63 of the 1984 book. Includes some of the greatest Legion stories, including the Great Darkness Saga.

Birds of Prey (1999) by Gail Simone: This run covers issues 56 to 108, and focuses on female heroes kicking ass, basically Charlie's Angels with superheroes.

Batman/Superman: World's Finest by Mark Waid and Dan Mora: A team-up book between Batman, Superman, and the DC Universe, set earlier in their careers.

Justice League International (1987) by Keith Giffen, J.M. DeMatteis, and Kevin Maguire: As much a workplace comedy as a superhero book, this is a very different take on the Justice League, from the time when "bwa-ha-ha" ruled the DCU.

THE FOURTH WORLD

The Fourth World Epic by Jack Kirby: Read in omnibus or trade format. The first stories of the Fourth World from the King of Comics, Jack Kirby. The story spans Kirby's run on Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen, The New Gods, The Forever People, and Mister Miracle, and ends in The Hunger Dogs.

Orion (2000) by Walt Simonson: A follow-up to Jack Kirby's epic, this book focuses on Orion, the son of Darkseid, and his quest to vanquish his father once and for all.

Bug! the Adventures of Forager by Lee Allred and Mike Allred: With Mike Allred's striking artwork, this book serves as a love letter to Kirby's time at DC Comics.

Mister Miracle (2017) by Tom King and Mitch Gerads: A slightly-psychedelic take on the Fourth World, focusing on Scott Free and his family with the backdrop of a bloody war unfolding between New Genesis and Apokolips

New Gods (1989) by Mark Evanier: This was a return to form for the New Gods, who hadn't had a lot of new stories to themselves since Kirby left DC, and it's a great read.

AND THE REST

Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters (1987) and Green Arrow (1988) issues 1-80, by Mike Grell: Probably the definitive Green Arrow run. Political, edgy, and mature.

Animal Man (1988) by Grant Morrison: A fun and surreal series of adventures featuring one of the DCU's unsung heroes.

Booster Gold (1986) by Dan Jurgens: A Reagan-era story of a money-obsessed celebrity superhero rediscovering the altruistic spirit of a true hero buried deep within him.

Zatanna: Bring Down the House by Mariko Tamaki and Javier Rodriguez: A quest through the realms of magic as a reluctant witch gets caught in the crossfire of a mystical war.

Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld (1983, 1985, and 1987): For fans of magical girls and sword and sorcery, this is a must-read. A girl from Earth discovers she is the princess of a mystical realm and embarks on a quest to save it.

The Question (1987) by Dennis O'Neil: A grounded, philosophical story of a man trying his best to make things better in a city abandoned to corruption and decay.

Monkey Prince by Gene Luen Yang and Bernard Chang: Drawing on Chinese mythology, this book focuses on an unlikely superhero with connections to the monkey king, Sun Wukong.

Blue Beetle (2006) by John Rogers and Keith Giffen: Giffen leaves after issue 10, but Rogers continues until issue 25, and the rest of the volume is pretty decent as well. It establishes Jaime Reyes as the Blue Beetle, and if the cards had been better he could have easily become DC's answer to Spider-Man. Ah, well. It's always nice when he gets a book, and this is probably the best one.

Galaxy: The Prettiest Star by Jadzia Axelrod and Jess Taylor: a YA graphic novel featuring a transgender alien princess. What's not to like?

Hawkworld (1989 and 1990): A science fiction epic of Thanagar, world of the hawks. A great read on its own, but it unfortunately did a lot of damage to the continuity of the Hawkman family of characters.

Hawkgirl (2023) by Jadzia Axelrod and Amancay Nahuelpan: A fun little miniseries focusing on Kendra Saunders moving to Metropolis and having to deal with the trauma and hardship of her past. Guest starring Galaxy from that other book!

Starman (1994) by James Robinson: A grungy, Gen X book about legacy and what we leave behind, with plenty of hooks for the new reader to investigate regarding the Golden Age superheroes.

The Power of Shazam! by Jerry Ordway: The post-Crisis take on Captain Marvel and the Marvel family. A great read, and the last great run for the classic versions of these characters.

Sandman (1989) by Neil Gaiman. Obligatory Neil Gaiman is a piece of shit out of the way, his Sandman book is a beautiful and at times horrifying read, and its importance as a story manages to outweigh my disdain for its creator.

Swamp Thing (1982) by Alan Moore and Steve Bissette: Moore's run begins in issue 19 and ends in issue 64. This is the definitive Swamp Thing run, which set the standard for all to follow. It's a creepy and often touching story which remains some of Moore's best work in the medium.

[totothewolff]

Chemtrails Over the Yacht Club Collection 18+ | Toto Wolff x reader, age gap, smut operator, clear daddy issues (this fic is inspired by Lana del Rey, duh), and yacht culture.

Summary: Toto Wolff is a name often mentioned at the Yacht Club, where you work after classes. For some reason, you have always pictured him as an old crank like the usual members, not this foxy man who arrives at the reception making your knees quiver.  The entire staff goes frenetic as he, one of the Club's most important clients, chooses to spend his spring break there without previous notice. You pray to the Gods that you don't cross lines with him since your entire livehood depends on this job, and you really want to graduate college. Author's note: This was supposed to be a one-shot but was way too long, so I split it into two chapters. I hope you enjoy them. By the way, this version of Toto has questionable morals.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

2 - Breaking up slowly

As Mr. Holst's gateway yacht trip reaches an end, you follow protocol and deliver Toto the guest's satisfaction survey before docking in the Club's harbor.

It's supposed to be confidential and private for the guest. Still, Toto reads you the questions and tells you his answer as he writes them, evaluating you while you sit on his lap in his cabin armchair.

"Any complaints or suggestions, please elaborate," he reads you. "Yes. Y/N's skirts should have been shorter. They don't do justice to that ass," he jokes as you blush, still in awe of him.

He squeezes your ass cheek and gives you a hard slap leaving a red mark, instantly turning you on.

"Fuck me, daddy" you beg him against his lips, already placing you on top of him. 

Your clothes hit the ground. 

You aren't sure if the waves are rocking the hull that hard or if it's Toto's powerful thrust as he fucks you relentlessly, firm grip on your hips, fingertips pressuring on your skin.

-

The guests enjoy the yacht's amenities till the last minute before docking in the harbor of the Yacht Club.

The crew and you are all but busy, going everywhere, attending to guests, and running safety checks and protocols.

You attend to Toto's daily demands as he peacefully sunbathes before going to his cabin to change outfits. His tan skin makes him look even more handsome.

You overheard him telling the person on the other end of the call that he was going to a meeting downtown. 

He'll be gone the entire day and the whole of your shift. At least a bit of a break for you!

These past few days have been a dream but tiresome.

As the sailing master safely and perfectly anchors the yacht in the harbor, the guests start to descend the ship. A small committee of girls with beverages and canapes welcomes them.

The only people remaining onboard the ship's deck are Toto and you; he wanted to go last.

As you two casually talk, he pulls out an envelope from the insides of his blue blazer and offers it with his hand for you to grab it.

"Sorry, what is this?!" you ask, looking at the rectangular yellow envelope.

"It's a brick of money, isn't it?" you think.

"Your tip," he confirms your thoughts.

"But that is excessive. No way I'm accepting it."

"Do so," he sounds authoritarian as usual. "'It's going to help you with that fine." 

"Oh, hey, listen, I will make it, don't worry about it."

"Y/N," he sounds serious, his eyes looking straight at you. He is a very kind and sweet person on the inside. Still, on the outside, he is always cold, stony-looking, demanding, and impossibly hot. "Take it," he enunciates, his controlling trait displaying.

You have noticed, just by being by his side all these days, the pull and effect he has on people and still holds on to you. He is someone you want to impress, to win his approval and have his attention.

"What do you think this is "Pretty Woman"? Calm down, Richard Gere!" you dare to joke to change the mood a bit.

"Aren't you too young to know that reference?" he still answers sternly.

"I live with the rom-com connoisseur, aka my aunt." you smile brightly at him.

Toto has avoided stepping onto personal life terrains, wanting to remain far apart.

"Last time I offer it, take it. You need it. Besides, it's not like you are going to buy a Kelly bag with it; it's for your tuition."

"A what?!" you think. "Wait! How does he know that? I don't remember mentioning that to him."

"Thank you, but I prefer to maintain our relationship non-monetarian." you stand your ground.

"Our relationship?" Toto thinks.

He places the envelope back into his inside pocket as he said he would and steps off without looking back at you, moving along with his day.

-

"Welcome back to land," Chloé greets you the next day as you clip your radio on your belt in the staff locker room. You're getting ready for another shift before hugging her.

"I'm impressed! I must admit. You almost, ALMOST, achieved it! You got a really good-rate review on the satisfaction chart from Mr. Wolff, something I've never seen before." Then, she makes a dramatic pause.

Only if she knew...

Before continuing: "But not so with Mr. Elrod. He placed a formal complaint since, according to him, your incident with him was life-threatening."

"OH COME ON! He barely swoll!" You look annoyed and want to smash the locker with your fist.

"I know, I checked. Still, I'm really proud of you! But Raphaël called you to his office, so please go there now."

-

Oh God, you hate going up there!

You arm yourself with patience while climbing the swirling stairs to the upper floor of the management wing of the building, where the big names' offices are.

He makes you wait for a long time. The fucker knows the long wait it's going to delay your chores and make you leave work late. Until his assistant informs you from her chair at the front desk that you can go in.

You open the large glass door into the Assistant General Manager's office with a speech already prepared in your mind in case of the worst.

Raphaël is leaning back on his enormous executive leather chair and massive desk that screams small dick energy, looking sternly at you. 

Raphaël is a very posh, solemn, and wealthy fucker who is besties with Mr. Holst and his entire family and extended family, a textbook social climber.

A very uptight asshole. Raphaël chose to dislike you from the moment you set foot at the Club; he tries to get you fired at any given chance. 

Most of the girls who work there are beautiful and come from an obvious upper class; most are daughters, nieces, or granddaughters of...

The Yacht Club is where the rich teach their kids a lesson on the value of work or use it as a perfect excuse to kick them out of the house for a few hours.

Usually, they get hired because daddy made a call, and you are none of that.

"Ah, good morning," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see you're still here. I'm surprised you didn't quit on the spot after that dangerous incident."

You take a deep breath and try to keep your cool. "Good morning, Raphaël. I'm still here because I'm committed to doing my job to the best of my ability and finding a solution to the problem rather than blaming myself."

Raphaël snorts. "You're the one who caused the problem, sweetheart. You're always causing problems. You're a liability to this company."

You feel angry at his words, but you keep your composure. "I understand you're upset, but I'm trying my best."

Raphaël swings a bit in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "You're just a silly girl who doesn't know how to do her job. You're lucky I'm even giving you a final and last chance to prove yourself."

You feel a lump form in your throat. "I understand you don't think highly of me, but I'm trying to do my best; I have learned fast and proved myself worthy."

Raphaël laughs a cold, cruel sound. "You're just not cut out for this job, sweetheart. We are the best and need the best on our team."

"I...I don't know what to say," you stutter.

Raphaël leans forward, his eyes glinting with triumph. "Just thank Ava, sweetie, for changing Holst's mind. You're on thin ice, one more mistake, and you're gone. You can leave now," he dismisses you.

-

"Thank you, I owe you one, I guess," you whisper to Ava for saving your ass as you cross paths with her in the beautiful and perfectly maintained gardens.

"You were kind to me," she says in the same tone as usual, not as friendlier as you would have liked. "I trust you keep our conversation from that day private."

"Pinky promise," you offer her your pinky. She looks at you with an "ugh" expression, rolls her eyes, and walks away. A couple of steps further, she turns to smile at you.

Now you two are best friends for life in your head! IJBOL.

-

The following two weeks are a swirl of moans as Toto, and you can't keep your hands off each other. 

You fuck everywhere private and remote enough, where there are no security cameras.

You can't have enough of his dick and his body. You are so infatuated with him.

Every time he calls in you at his villa, you end up fucking; it doesn't matter how hard you both try to fight the urge to do so.

He has had you against the door, his bedframe, or the room's vanity, on top of the piano and even in the jacuzzi. The sex drive of that fit man is spectacular, and you are young enough to keep its pace.

You have never been so sexually active and free in your life, learning and experiencing many things for the first time. Toto makes the best teacher and lover you have ever had.

By this point, you lost count of how many times you have moaned his name, called him daddy, or the number of times he has made you cum and beg for more.

-

Your aunt and close friends start to notice your glow. Lately, you look radiant and happy.

She is intrigued to know the reason behind it as you two go to the mall on Sunday.

"FINE. I WILL TELL YOU! I'm dating the most gorgeous, wise, handsome, accomplished, hot guy, AND HE IS SO INTO ME! Can you believe it?!"

"Oh, I can. My niece is great! And where did you meet this adonis, and most importantly, does he have an older brother?"

"He is an older brother!" you want to say but don't. 

She doesn't need to know every single detail, not yet. You want to keep it a surprise for when you take Toto home.

"He has a sister," you answer.

"Ah! And what else can you tell me?"

"Well, he is from Austria! I plan to invite him over to have dinner at the apartment so you can meet and ask him all the questions you want. What do you think?"

The look she gives you! You had never taken a single boy to the house. This must be serious, then.

"Has he tasted your cooking yet?" she wonders before answering.

You shake your head.

"Well, if he survives it, then it's true love!" you two laugh as your aunt jokes and links her arm with yours before adding: "Please invite him for dinner. I'd love to meet him, but you know what! Better buy lasagna. We want this to work, right?!"

-

You love to text Toto sweet and touchy messages throughout the day that hint at how he makes you feel, how much he means to you, and how great it is to be with him.

You are in love.

Yet, you try not to suffocate him or embarrass yourself, still being nervous around him, still wanting his approval. 

Toto still intimidates you. Being the powerful and dominant man he is.

You can't believe you snatched him! Lucky girl!

But in your mind, fuck! Wedding bells are already chirping, and future children's name-searching is already happening.

-

The Yacht Club has a museum/memorabilia section that almost no one visits. It's located far away from the lobby and main guest areas, and for obvious reasons, it has many security cameras. 

But next to it, further down the hallway, there's a blind spot on the CCTV system, right in the space of the door to an old phone room. 

In this room, the original antic magneto wall set telephone is still mounted on the wall, along with a stern wood chair where people used to chat in private.

You ask Toto to meet you there after he texts you he hasn't seen you today. 

Also, you want to inform him that you are going on a "two-day leave" plus the weekend, so you will be away from him for four days. 

You don't want to send him mixed signals, and you're getting paranoid that he might think you're running away.

And since you don't want to miss him, maybe he could join you if he wants and feels like it. You know, couple life outside the Club.

A hand-in-hand walk through Monaco's streets sounds nice; a cute date with wine and kisses sounds more than good.

-

When he closes the door behind him, the place looks ridiculously smaller.

You immediately stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around him as you greet him. 

You share small, soft kisses for a while.

He sadly tells you he can't join you on your break. 

Since he extended his stay, Toto has things scheduled on his agenda that he is supposed to be doing in his office in London.

"But I'm going to miss you, daddy," you pout and give him the biggest Bambi-begging eyes.

"Not even that it's going to work. Try it with my assistant. Thanks for trying tho."

"Where can I meet her?"

He laughs before pulling you into a more intense kiss.

"Should we say goodbye to each other?" he says against your lips, caressing your neck.

"It is crazy how four days felt like nothing before you; now that I have you in my life, it's an eternity."

He holds you closer, pulling you by the waist.

"Then let's make it count enough to stay in each other minds for those days."

"You are permanently on my mind," you confess, burying your face in his shoulder, all red, and not even being able to look at him while feeling the expensive material of his jacket brushing your skin.

Then, your mouth finds his, kissing him hungrily. You push your tongue into his mouth, tangling with his, your hands sliding up the hard planes of his chest, then drifting over his shoulders to find the hem of his shirt. 

Your fingers feel his warm skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through him as you trace the contours of his muscles.

The smell of your perfume, jasmine, and vanilla intoxicates him. This scent will remind him of this moment as he passionately claims your mouth.

Slowly, you undress each other, savoring the anticipation. As hands wander over defined abs, curves, and dips, caresses become bold strokes.

The pads of your fingers move lower, exploring the ridges of his abdomen. With a smoldering look, you glance up at Toto, a wicked smile on your lips.

Heat spreads through him as you press yourself against his groin and your bare breasts against his chest. He can feel your heart pounding.

With a soft, playful jerk, you touch his growing excitement. "Eager, daddy?" you ask.

He nods.

You waste no time, and you get down to your knees as you take him into your mouth as he is sitting in the chair. Your warm, wet tongue swirls around him, your head bobbing gently as you work him in and out of your mouth. 

His fingers find their way into your soft, silken hair, gripping it gently, urging you on.

His pleasure moans grow as you work your magic, your tongue and lips exploring him for a while.

Slowly, you move up till your lips brush the shell of his ear. 

He commands you. "Ride me, now."

You shift your weight, adjusting your position to better align with Toto's cock, and you sink onto him, your pussy fitting itself around his cock like a glove; you feel a jolt of pleasure.

He fills you completely, and you allow yourself a moment to take in the intensity of that feeling, skin against skin.

Your hips begin to sway, moving gently to the rhythm of your shared breathing. With each undulation, the chair beneath you becomes part of the dance.

Toto's hands, which had been resting at his sides, now find their way to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he feels you move against him.

Your breath is warm and soft against his neck as your bodies rock with each movement. You feel your core tighten, your pleasure growing in intensity. 

The control Toto wields over the rhythm, and you is intoxicating. Your breathing quickens.

"Faster," he orders you; you moan, obedient and needy. He wants you full force.

You feel the intensity of your coupling, the friction becoming almost unbearable.

You throw your head back mid powerful and intense bounces and cry out, desperate for release. 

His hands move to grip your thighs, his fingers applying pressure into your soft flesh as he guides your hips up and down to meet now his intense thrusts, Toto's bucking his hips up now, and your full breasts bounce against his sculpted chest.

Your lips meet in a passionate kiss; tongues entwine at a pace as hungry as the one below your waists. 

You tangle your hands in Toto's hair, tugging it gently to urge him for more as you clench your sex around him, drawing out an animalistic groan from deep within him. 

"Fuck, yes, Y/N," Toto growls through gritted teeth. He slams his balls into your pussy again and again, driving you both closer to the edge.

Your bodies are all slick with sweat as you shudder atop Toto, releasing a visceral moan with an orgasm radiating from your core and rippling through every nerve in your body, dripping all over his shaft and thighs.

He growls low in his throat, a raw, primal sound that reverberates through the room as he surrenders to his own release.

-

Every day away, you text him, exchanging photos and moments from both days.

You can't keep away from him.

-

Upon your return, you attend and cheer for Toto, who is participating in the regatta rally. 

The sound of seagulls surrounds you, as does the smell of salt water and fresh coffee wafts from the food and beverage stalls, enticing the crowd on the quayside.

As the starting gun fires, a fleet of sleek, high-tech sailboats burst into action, their crews navigating the intricate course set out on the water. 

The crowd cheers and chants as the boats round each mark, their helmsmen and women trimming their sails to maximize speed. 

As the regatta approaches its climax, the top boats are neck and neck, and Toto and his crew are straining every muscle to gain that precious extra yard. 

The tension is palpable as his boat crosses the finish line, and he and his crew leap into celebration as they win the rally.

Meanwhile, champagne corks pop on the quayside, and glasses get raised in a toast to the winners. 

The air is filled with conversation as the member's friends and families mingle, congratulating each other on a thrilling day under their giant sun umbrellas and comfy outdoor chairs.

Meanwhile, you remained sitting on the pier under the sun with your crew coworkers by your side, waiting for your guests to return and watching the action unfold on the waters. 

All of you girls, legs hanging, white sneakers almost touching the waters beneath you, dress in blue shorts and white polos with the Club's logo patch on the left.

After a while, the sun and the wood surface start to irritate your face and ass, respectively.

You smile brightly at Toto when you spot him reaching closer in the boat, locking eyes with him.

His shirt is all wet, and what is beneath it is showing. You fight the urge to run your hand all over his chest when you reach him after the trophy ceremony.

-

As you finish setting Toto's regatta equipment back inside the shed in his villa's garden view deck, Léo approaches you, thinking you are alone.

Staring at your bend over the body, eyes on your ass. An excellent view. 

Toto watches this from inside. He stepped inside to go shower.

"Y/N!" you turn without flinching, familiar with the voice and happy to hear it. 

"Léo! Hi!"

"I missed you, cutie," he says to you, even if you are a girl. Then he welcomes you with a tight hug, pulling you off the ground.

Toto wants to see how the scene unfolds, still without making himself be noticed. 

Why is that guy standing that close to you? Doesn't he know personal space?

He watches you two chat, you looking all happy and smiley, telling Léo all about your past days while his eyes burn on you. 

Toto catches desire in them, so when Léo places a hand on the shed and around you, Toto steps in.

"Kid," he calls for you. "My drink," he reminds you what he asked you to do next.

"Oh! Yes, sir!" You quickly move to serve Toto's drink. Léo gives him a "those manners!" look, and they share a quick exchange. 

At that moment, Toto glimpses at his cook uniform in bright daylight and tells him, "I didn't ask for any food." This is a subtle hint to better leave.

When Toto moves to stand right behind you, you can almost feel his knee in the back of your thigh.

Léo proceeds to leave, sending him a silent fuck you with his eyes.

"Bye, gorgeous! See you around, my girl." Léo addresses you but holds his gaze at Toto as he walks away, looking back.

"Okay..." you think, watching them interact.

-

"Let's go, kid," he orders you.

"Where?!" you ask as he drags you by the arm, a firm grip on your forearm as he pulls you along.

"Move," he instructs.

-

Minutes later, the sun warms Toto's back as he expertly maneuvers his jet ski on the waters. Going extremely fast as you hold tight to his body, the jet ski roaring beneath you, surging forward as water sprays behind you.

The salty ocean breeze whips through his dark hair and yours. 

A desolate yet inviting small beach appears in the distance as a coast unfolds. Toto gestures to you to the sandy expanse, "There."

You glance at the beach in question and raise your delicate eyebrows. "You brought us here? Why?"

"I have something to make clear." It's all he answers, in a harsh voice, before reaching land.

-

The waves lap gently against the fine white sands of the isolated coastline. You take a moment to enjoy the sounds of the ocean and the serenity of nature surrounding you.

Your skin and Toto's glisten with sweat, seawater, and sunscreen. 

His gaze roams over your body, relishing the breathtaking view. He licks his lips, unable to resist himself any longer. 

His eyes are so intense on you that he almost looks angry. Toto's expression dangerously morphs into a lust-filled one. 

He leans closer to claim your mouth in a rough, passionate kiss. Parting your lips brusquely, allowing himself to explore and taste your sweetness with his tongue while holding your neck with a stern grip.

His hands move to press your slick body firmly.

Toto then powerfully lifts you from the ground and takes you further into the beach, finally pushing you to the sand and rolling on top of you, feeling your breasts crush against his chest. 

He pulls your legs open and places them around his waist, roughly handling you, nails pressing into your skin, and he sighs in pleasure, feeling your warmth pressed against his.

He moves to remove your clothes roughly and quickly, almost tearing your polo shirt; within seconds, you are both naked. "Beautiful," Toto whispers, voice dangerous.

Your eyes flare with desire and curiosity as he has never handled you this rough.

With no hesitation or warning, he pulls his rock-hard length inside you, making you gasp at the sudden move. Toto's voice rasp in your ear, "Only I can fill you up."

You nod eagerly, biting your lower lip.

"Say it," he demands.

"Yes, daddy. Only you can fill me," you whisper, your voice thick with arousal.

Those words send Toto's self-control over the ledge. 

He slides into you frenetically, your pussy taking his hard hits with thunderous moist claps. He is fucking you so harshly in such a powerful rhythm you can barely take him.

You bury your nails in the sand surrounding you, grasping. "Daddy!" you moan so loud.

"Fuck, your pussy feels so good," Toto growls, biting down on the curve of your neck.

His thrusts are desperate and animal, and every muscle in his body is rocking. You arch your back, moaning nonstop as Toto keeps hitting that perfect spot deep inside you, relentlessly. 

"Daddy! Please," you gasp for air. You can barely take it anymore. "Daddy! I can't." his balls deep thrust keep going. A massive moan escapes your lips.

"Be a nice girl, take this dick good." He commands.

"I-, I-, Daddy, please." Your fingers dig into his shoulders, urging him to let you catch your breath.

"You are only mine to have." Toto's mouth claims yours, swallowing your moans. 

"This pussy is all yours!" you are barely able to say, shaking violently under his strong jabs.

"Again," his dick slams you harder.

"I'm only yours!" you scream in an orgasm, breathing real loud.

"Again," he slams you with his dick again.

Your whimpers grow louder.

"I'm yours, daddy!"

The feeling of his raw masculinity taking you over, dominating you entirely, sends ripples of need through your core.

Each drive of his hips is a powerful claim, a branding that declares you his.

"Good girl, now it's clear." He kisses your lips softly and licks them, running his wet tongue all over them.

With one final thrust, he buries himself as deep inside you, feeling you clench and pulse around him as you cry out.

Toto's body shudders with the force of his release. You stay there, panting and covered in sweat and sand as the waves crash upon the shore, matching the rhythm of your breathing.

Toto stays inside you, wanting to remain close for a little longer. He places soft and sweet kisses all over your face, now tenderly caressing you. His soft touch is all over you.

He collapses in exhaustion next to your side. The two of you are naked with your backs to the sand and facing the sky, feeling the sun's warm rays on your skin. 

You can't help but smile as you look over at Toto, lying beside you with his muscular chest heaving up and down. 

"We're quite a mess," you chuckle, gesturing to the sand and fluids that cover your bodies.

Toto laughs, "Nothing that a quick rinse can't fix."

He watches you stand up, brush the sand off your ass, and sprint towards the ocean. 

Toto follows you, admiring your naked figure and the way your ass moves as you stride.

You dip your toes into the water, squealing as a wave crashes over your feet. Toto comes up behind you, planning to plunge you into the water, so you playfully run from him.

He catches and kisses you before lifting you in his arms and bringing you inside the water with him.

He admires your ability to be open-minded, fun, and fearless in pursuing new experiences, especially those involving him.

-

A call bell coming from Toto's living room makes you speed there. Your chores today were so fucking tedious; by this point, you have like four good hours inside the china's closet.

As soon as you enter, he informs you, "Kid, I need my things packed by 2 p.m."

"You are leaving?!!" That sounded more desperate than you expected.

"I need to fly to sign papers in my London office. I will return on Thursday, just in time for Holst's Casablanca-themed birthday party."

Oh, yeah, next week is going to be crazy. A fucking colossal gala it's going to take place at the Club's gardens.

-

When the elevator doors to Toto's office slide open, a burst of energy and femininity floods the room as the most stunning woman enters.

Toto's office is on the top floor of a sleek, modern skyscraper, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering an unobstructed panorama of the bustling London's metropolis.

Her impossible curves seem to have been crafted by the gods themselves.

Her long, dark, sleek hair cascades down her back, framing her heart-shaped face and highlighting her stunning eyes. 

With her full lips in a deep shade of red, she moves with a confident stride, her high heels clicking on the floor as she makes her way to Toto's desk. 

Her toned and shapely legs seem to go on forever. She is supermodel tall, and the way she moves her hips is enough to weaken any man in the knees.

Irina sits in one of the expensive designer chairs in front of Toto's trendy clear glass desk. Her fitted dress hugs her curves in all the right places. 

Her shoulders are bare, and the gentle swell of her breasts seems to strain against the fabric.

Her hands are long and elegant, and she has a massive diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. 

As she leans back in the chair, her hair bounces against her shoulders, releasing a faint scent of perfume.

Looking busy behind his desk, Toto can't help but look up from his papers, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of surprise and admiration. 

-

Toto's iPhone buzzes on his desk surface as Irina moves to get comfy on the expensive velvet sofa by the wall after a good chat and a successful exchange on Irina's part.

Reminding Toto of his responsibilities in life.

He picks it up to open your chat.

"Since it's our first month anniversary and you are away. I had more time to prepare a gift for you." you text Toto.

He watches a photo loading on your conversation.

A photo of a completely naked you arrive, standing back to the camera behind a see-through light fabric curtain that looks like and is the one in his bedroom at his villa. 

Your shoulders, back, and ass are on full display, your silhouette looking delicious to him; you are posing with your arms up, both placed on your head, and your hair is in a bun.

No face, just body, in a contrast of light.

Toto feels like jerking off to that photo when a second one arrives. 

It's a close-up photo of your breast; you are laying on his bed in the villa, again with light fabric on top of your tits, nipples hard, looking ready for him to bite them: no face or more body below your waist on this one.

"What a masterpiece," he replies. "But who took them? It's that my villa? How did you manage?"

"A dear friend of mine takes boudoir photos. I lied to Chloé and told her the photographer came for a photo session appointment with the guests I'm serving during your leave."

"An that dear friend is?" instantly possesive.

"Anne, a girl friend from college, she is an art major," you quickly reply.

"They should hang them in a museum."

You feel so proud of yourself for making him react like that. God, you miss him.

"Hey, kid, you are home?" he looks at his Rolex, running calculous.

"Yes"

"Do me a favor then."

"Sure!"

"Touch yourself till you cum, and moan my name loud." you get wet, reading the text.

"Would you do the same, daddy?"

"Yes."

-

Irina wonders who makes him smile like that.

-

As you prepare everything at Toto's villa for his return, along with Chloé, you dare to ask her a question and discuss a topic you have been dreading for so long.

"Does Mr. Wolff have a leave date?" you gain the courage.

"He already overextended his stay, which is rare, as rare as him showing up unexpectedly as he did. Mr. Wolff is one of those people who schedules everything in advance and always informs us months before, so something must have happened." She reaches out to you to help you place the fresh sheets on his bed.

"So, no date?" you ask again.

"You grew tired of him already?" Chloé looks straight at you.

"OH. NO, NO. I'm just curious," you quickly add, waving your hands.

"No date, child"

Is he staying for you? You wonder in your head.

-

You two have never talked about your future. 

Toto leaving without you has become your biggest fear in life, like ever. 

-

The night is fully set over the sea, and the Club's grounds are set by the strumming of a Moroccan guitar, which sets the tone for the true extravaganza about to happen.

You see Ava fixing Mr. Holst's bowtie as he prepares for his grand entrance.

The Club's gardens transformed into a Moroccan oasis, and the towering palm trees were now adorned with twinkling fairy lights.

The crowd erupts into applause as Mr. Holst enters, resplendent in a tailored white suit and sunglasses, à la Rick Blaine, escorted by a troupe of really hot and barely dressed female dancers, who performed a mesmerizing choreographed routine to the iconic tunes of "As Time Goes By."

The tables are set with fine china and crystal glassware, adorned with candles and a sumptuous spread of Moroccan delicacies, including tagines, couscous, and fragrant pastries. 

The aroma of exotic spices wafts through the air.

Meanwhile, at the bar where you are currently working, the mixologists are shaking (not stirring) up signature cocktails inspired by the classic film's iconic characters. The "Ilsa," a refreshing blend of gin, lemon, and mint, is a particular hit among the guests.

The place is packed with wealthy people from around the globe, all friends of Mr. Holst and his wife, and the bar is the busiest spot. 

You are so busy that you haven't even had a chance to look for Toto. He must be somewhere looking all handsome in a classic tuxedo! Gosh, you die to see him and kiss him.

Then, Mr. Holst takes center stage once more, surrounded by his wife and children. With a heartfelt speech, he starts the party.

-

As midnight approaches, a massive three-tier cake held by two big guys enters in the old style, and everyone sings Happy Birthday to Mr. Holst as fireworks light up the night sky! 

The crowd cheers and oohs as sparks rain down upon them.

Then, you have your first break of the night. Some of your coworkers at recess get dinner, light a cigar, or just sit down in the crew's hidden section. It's been crazy!

You use the opportunity to text Toto: "Hi, my love. Where are you? I want to see your handsomeness in a tux. Daddy, I miss you so much."

-

As a tipsy Toto is laughing and drinking with Holst and his wife when the couple reaches the table where he is, Irina picks up his phone, buzzing on the table.

She reads the text you sent him and chunks of your conversation. 

"Who the fuck is "Kid"?!"

She then starts looking at the photos you shared, fuming, especially when she finds the ones from the boudoir photo session you took for Toto.

Oh, no, baby! Her wedding with Toto is happening, yes or yes, and she will not allow you to interfere!

Toto will not slip away from her! Not now, she got him back at the palm of her hand and into his senses!

It worked wonders to give him that bit of a break after he got cold feet and had second thoughts about committing himself to her.

No one touches what is hers, and she is about to teach you a lesson!

Now that she knows your face, it is just a matter of time before she finds you there.

Apparently, you work here.

-

You are navigating through the crowded party, surrounded by the thumping music and the hums of conversations because your boss asked you to move to attend a special guests table.

As you walk there, you feel a pair of eyes burning into your skin. The hottest woman you have ever seen is staring intensely at you. 

It turns out to be the table where Raphaël parents are. So, to your misfortune, he is also around, adding an extra stress layer to your night as he behaves demanding and pays attention to your every action.

-

As the night progresses, you feel unsure if you are being paranoid or that woman has been watching you for a long time, her gaze flicking from a phone to you again.

Mr. Holst greets you, and you congratulate him on his birthday; he sits to chat with Raphaël's elderly mom.

The hot woman suddenly swoops in, her long legs striding across the room to you. 

Her eyes flash with anger as she grabs your arm, her nails digging into your skin. "You think you're so special, don't you?" she hisses, her voice low and venomous, taking you completely by surprise.

You try to shake her off, not knowing what the fuck is happening! But she's too strong. 

She pulls you closer, her face inches from yours. "You're nothing but a foolish little fling to Toto," she sneers really loud for everyone at the table to hear.

You start to feel all eyes on you as she causes a scene.

"This means nothing to him! You are just an entertainment." she continues.

You feel a surge of embarrassment as you realize what's happening. 

Toto looks at you two, his eyes wide with surprise, but he doesn't intervene. Your bosses are standing nearby, their faces frozen in shock.

Irina shows you the stunning diamond ring on her hand and holds it up for everyone to see. 

The table you attend falls silent, and all eyes are on you. Humiliation hits you as you realize the scope of what's happening.

"You think you can just waltz in here and steal my man? Toto is marrying me," she says again, her voice dripping angrily. "Me! Stay the fuck away!"

Irina flings back into the crowd, her words echoing in your mind. 

You feel tears stinging in your eyes as you turn to flee the party. 

"Don't even bother to come back. You are fired." Raphaël addresses you, firing you in the spot, catching you preparing to leave, his gaze burning with triumph and victory.

The sounds of laughter and music fade into the distance as you stumble into the night air, your heart heavy with sorrow.

Léo and Chloé look astonished as they watch you leave after witnessing the show Irina put on.

Your heels are hitting the floor faster, and the trail of your fitted gorgeous gala dress sways behind you.

You know that you will never be able to show your face at this place again and that no one will ever look at you in the same way after this.

God, you are so mad at Toto and even more heartbroken!

-

A loud knock comes at the door; maybe your aunt left work early. "Coming!" you look like a mess with swollen eyes from all the crying and feeling like shit and heartbroken, destroyed, dusted, you name it.

Toto's tall figure greets you when you open the door.

"How yo-?!" you look at him, eyes filling with anger and tears again.

"Ava," he interrupts you. "She got your address and sent me in a car here."

He reads your intention to close the door to his face and stops it firmly with his muscular arm.

Toto invites himself into your apartment. Standing beside the worn-out cupboard, he looks out of place, especially in that expensive tuxedo.

Gosh, he looks so dreamy, fuck him!

"Irina was completely wrong. You are not entertainment; what happened with us was real; you are important to me, more than you imagine." He goes straight to the point, not wasting time making things clear.

You feel a couple of tears run down your eyes. Lots of emotions for just one night.

He reaches closer to wipe them with his fingers. "I shouldn't have allowed Irina to talk to you that way and embarrassed you. Please forgive me. For all. We were on a time off when I met you."

"Irina? You thought that was his sister. You heard Holst asking him about her at brunch, along with his mom," You stupid girl!

"I called off the engagement for good." He looks straight at you and closes the steps between you.

"You did?!" and you die to add the "for me," but you contain.

"Do you still want me?" he asks, leaning closer to your lips, his breath brushing your mouth.

"Yes," a beg escapes your lips.

-

Toto is there to apologize for the hurt he caused. He wants to reach for you, to hold you close, but he doesn't know where to begin. So, instead, he does the only thing that feels right at that moment.

His lips find yours in a tender kiss, at first gentle but exploring, as if trying to find his way home.

You respond with a soft sigh, and your hands roam over his back, muscles reacting to your gentle touch. 

Your mouths open to each other in a deep, consuming kiss, tongues darting and twisting, exploring every spot of the other's mouth.

Before any of you knows what is going on, you stumble your way towards the bed, Toto's hands finding the hem of your short nightgown, pulling it up and over your head, revealing your naked body. 

The sight of your bare skin is enough to take his breath away. 

Toto's fingers trace the curves of your breasts, thumbs flicking at your stiffening nipples as you gasp and arch into his touch. 

God, you always feel so good.

"Fuck," he mutters, bending his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. The taste of your nipple is intoxicating, and he moans in pleasure as his lips close around you.

Toto's mouth works its magic on each flick of his tongue and grazes of his teeth; you get wetter, your arousal building up.

Then his fingers find your folds, slick with need, and he spreads you open, fingering that pussy he very much loves.

He groans at the contact, his cock throbbing in response. He needs to be inside you. He needs to lose himself in you.

Clothes go out of the way.

Toto looks up at you, asking for consent, and with one swift motion, he enters you, his cock sliding into your wet, welcoming heat. You gasp as he fills you, your body adjusting to his size.

He doesn't move yet. He gives you time to get used to him. His eyes never leave yours as he waits, his breath hot against your skin. The anticipation is unbearable, and you rock your hips against him, urging him to move.

Toto growls, low and deep in his throat, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. The force of his thrust pushes your body down against the bed, and you cry out as pleasure shoots through you.

The feel of Toto inside you, filling and completing you, is unlike anything.

Toto's thrusts become harder, more urgent, driving into you with a force that had you moaning out his name over and over again, lost in the pleasure of the moment.

The sound of your sweat-slicked bodies slapping against each other, the wetness that escapes with each thrust, fills the small room.

Your breasts bounce with every move. You are so close to the edge, your orgasm building deep within you. Toto feels your inner walls begin to flutter around his cock, the sensation driving him wild.

"Fuck, Toto!" you cry out, clutching at the sheets as your body trembles with pleasure under his thrust.

He repeats the motion over and over again, your body shaking beneath him, your moans desperate. Toto feels your body tighten around him and your inner walls milking his cock.

With a final, frantic thrust, Toto lets himself go. He cums hard, filling you with his release.

As you both come down from your high, Toto collapses onto you, his body panting and slick with sweat. 

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both catch your breath.

Toto presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips brushing against your skin.

"Toto, I... I..." you try to build the courage to say.

"Yes?" His voice is husky but caring.

"I- I love you." You are all red, looking down, unable to face him. 

He pulls your chin up tenderly with his finger before kissing your lips. 

Before you dare to confess: "I never loved someone this much, I... I want a life with you and you to be my future. Could, you, I don't know, think about it, maybe, you know, you could... take me... with you to London, it sounds good."

A trail of kisses comes your way. "I will think about it, but let's sleep first. It's almost 4 a.m." he rubs his eyes and wraps you around his body.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted too; a lot happened." You kind of laugh and move to enjoy the view of his naked body, caressing him till he falls asleep, and you, too.

-

As sunlight creeps into your small room, you wake up disoriented. It's a hot day, and the AC is off.

"Toto?" you call his name; his body is not next to you, and you hear sounds from the kitchen.

"Is he making you breakfast? How sweet!"

You get on your feet and quickly pull some clothes on. You don't want to miss that moment for your life.

You pull the slightly already open door of your room to be greeted by an unexpected scene.

Surprisingly, your aunt is there, cooking breakfast for your mom. You look around the apartment, confused.

"Surprise!" your mom lets out from one of the chairs on the small round table. "Oh, it's only me, honey!" your mom informs you, thinking you are looking around to spot her family. As usual, believing life revolves around her.

"Are only just you two in here?" you ask.

"Ahm, yes..." your aunt says, holding the pan. "Well, no, if you count the ghost that lives here, the one who likes to throw my flowerpots."

"It's a cat!" you add before walking fast back to your room. Then you look at the clock, fuck! It's almost 1 p.m.; it's not breakfast time. It's lunchtime!

You pick up your phone, no new texts or calls from Toto; maybe he is dealing with shit after what happened. It's too bad you cannot go back to the Club.

What is that?!

You notice a folded piece of paper on the nightstand. You feel the fine paper on your fingertips as you open it:

"I'm sorry to do this to you, kid, but I can't."

And just like that, he exits your life.

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[icanseethefuture333]

What blessings are coming for you in 2024?

collab with @sunkissedchld 💛

Please go check out her post here!

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Half Full by JGrrey

Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

I by Jaden

Signs: 818, silver, wires, blue, green, white, ocean, the sun, blue daisies, braided hair or material, mandalas, wall tapestries, old keys, doors being locked, mirrors, rosaries, crosses, anointing oil, Poseidon, Percy Jackson, Yemaya, honey biscuits, & beignets

Service, Change, Mirror, Heart With A Key, The Sword & Rose, & Liberator

For 2024, pile 1, I see that there is going to be some big changes! "Out with the old, in with the new". In 2023, you could have paid a big service to others by helping them with their needs, which led to putting everyone else above your own personal goals. Helping others can be a good thing but it is alright to be "selfish" at times! I feel that you think if you do good by others you will attract good karma into your life or the universe will magically bless you for your good deeds, when that's not how it works. If you wish for change, you have to be the change you seek. For 2024, you should focus on your self concept and understanding how the 3D works. The 3D reality is your external world, it will reflect back to your most inner prominent thoughts. You have the key to manifest your best potential. Harness your skills and work on improving them. Be careful with your triggers as well. The universe will test you along your journey. So you may experience things that are an inconvenience or attract things you may not necessarily "want". For example, if you are manifesting wealth in 2024, but keep having issues with your finances. Instead of reacting to this and having thoughts or complaints that you're "broke". Release the fears that you have regarding abundance. If you are manifesting money but only receive a $20 dollar bill, be grateful for that $20 dollar bill, for someone else may not even have cash at all. Think of it as a small start to success. You have to liberate yourself from limiting beliefs and see the prosperity that surrounds you and that it is also given to you. If you are someone who sees things as "glass half empty", your perspective will change graciously and the blessings in 2024 will teach you how to see with a "glass half full". The new year will provide you with inner peace and clarity within yourself. You will also be divinely guided and protected during this time!

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Glitter by Tyler The, Creator

Kolors by Monte Booker ft. Smino

Hey, Mickey! By Baby Tate ft. Saweetie

Signs: 222, Valentine's day, hearts, box of chocolates, kiss marks, pink, lavendar, red, lip stains on cups, baby cupid, Venus/Aphrodite, Persephone, Oshun, passion fruit, roses, makeup, bow & arrow, crown, metal, armor, knights, princesses, folklore, playing dolls, roleplay, fairytale romance storybooks, childhood nostalgia, 90/2000s movies, & Y2K

Love (2x 💕), Patience, Kisses, Cupid's Arrow, Soulmates, & Knight

Okayyyy!! This pile is stepping into their it girl/boy/enby era 💅🏽! This is too cute ✨️. You will be more popular than usual this year, pile 2. Your guides are wanting you to embrace this! You could be really shy and wish to avoid the spotlight, but you will be causing yourself a great disfavor by doing this! You are going to be so radiant, magnetizing, & beautiful this year and this is going to draw others to you. I am getting a vision of like those popular girls who walk down the hallway in a 2000s movie with their hair blowing in the wind and everyone else is just in complete awe of them. There could be significant changes to your hair, skin, and wardrobe, maybe even your physical features. Your hair could grow longer, healthier, and look shiny, while your skin would appear softer, dewy, and refreshed. I see that your guides will be blessing you financially to support this lifestyle and to overall enhance your beauty. "You have lived in the shadows of others for too long, you're meant to shine baby!" I feel that many people in your path have made you feel smaller than you actually are and your guides want you to know that you are meant to do something big in this lifetime. They wish to boost your confidence. In 2023, you were the underdog, but you are going to rise to the top in 2024. You will also have a lot of admirers this year! You will be weary of this and feel anxious, fearing that these people are trying to deceive you. There is no need to worry about this though, pile 2! Ease your thoughts and affirm that you are worthy of love, praise, and attention. Your inner beauty is going to be radiating through your physical vessel and this is going to be so intriguing to others. You could be attracting friends, lovers, & sexual partners. If you have been single for a while and waiting for the divine to bless you with a romantic suitor, then it is very likely that you will be in a relationship for 2024. There is someone here who is in love you and desires to be in a committed relationship with you. They will be very charming, romantic, and chivalrous towards you. I interpert this as self love as well! The love you have for yourself is going to transcend into the universe. It's like the Care Bear stare. The Care Bears were able to love others and reciprocate it as well. Allow yourself to give & receive this year!

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Forever Young by BLACKPINK

Queendom by Red Velvet

Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepswn

Signs: 333, giggling, laughing randomly or uncontrollably, people smiling at you, cameras, taking pictures, making videos, beaches, palm trees, upbeat music, nostalgic for music from your younger days, manic pixie character movie tropes, yellow, highlights, hair dye, bangs, high top sneakers, high waisted denim shorts, shuffling dance, longboards, swimsuits, pranks, Hermes, magic tricks, road trips, summer break, festivals, carnivals, & clowns

Self Esteem, Humor, Perservance, Girl Talk, Camera, Paradise, & Trickster

For some of you, the show "Dollface" or the movie "Joy Ride" could be significant. In 2024, you will be reuniting with some old friends of yours or making new ones. You could be getting over a break up from 2023 and the universe wishes to bless you with people who will stay in your life long term. This person you were with romantically or sexually could have left you feeling very depleted. As if they wasted your time and energy. You may have been feeling lonely or a bit lost, wishing you had people there for you to cheer you up. If you had friends that used to be close to you that you miss and have gotten out of touch with, it would be best to try contact them! You will never know unless you try :D! If you are someone who's never really had friends, then I see you coming across people soon. You will have to come out of your shell though and have the confidence to strike up a conversation with people. You will see that you are actually quite funny and a joy to be around! I'm getting a vision of like sleepovers and movie nights. This could have been your favorite to do when you were younger. I feel you should focus on creating new memories for yourself in 2024 and don't be afraid of doing those cheesy things you did as a teenager. Create photo books, make collages, talk on the phone all night long, go out ob trips on a whim, etc. There is so much more to life than just wanting to find your life long significant other. There's this joke that's I've been seeing on social media where it's like a young adult is either married or have kids and then people say "oh she 23? Shawty should be in the club" and it's true 😭! Don't waste your youth away worried about finding the one, just go have fun! It doesn't matter how old you are! Wear those heels and put yourself out there! You are going to regret it if you don't focus on your happiness in the future so make it happen. In 2024, your life will be spontaneous and adventurous!

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

American Girl by Bonnie McKee

Sweet by BROCKHAMPTON

SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY (Remix) by Amaarae ft. Kali Uchís

Signs: 444, Seshat, Athena, money in hidden places or on the street, vivid dreams, orange, green, STEM student, university, class, fire, drug commercials, hospitals, blood drawings, shots, measurements, glass, gas, science, chemistry, ball & chain, monopoly, dice, game pieces, poker cards, & checkers

Happiness, Health, Addiction, Abundance, Passion, & Visionary

For some of you, it was possible you were suffering from a lot of issues with your health in 2023. You could have been more prone to getting sick and catching colds, the flu, etc. Your health will be doing much better in 2024! I also see if you are a STEM student, I see your grades improving or you will graduate this year! Congratulations! This message only applies to a select few, but in 2024 I see that you will successfully become sober and overcome any addictions you had! Regardless of which of these resonates with you - there is a big focus on achievements with your health. Whether that is your health or other people's health you are taking care of, things will be looking great ❤️‍🩹! I see that you are very passionate regarding your career as well and there could potentially be some opportunities coming your way in 2024. I feel that a lot of the people in this pile are studying or work in law, the medical field, or do something along the lines of STEM (science, technology, engineering, & mathematics). You are very studious, smart, and bright! I see that in 2024, you will not be taking no for an answer and will do whatever it takes to achieve your goals. Your determination will be admired by others and I see that you will pass many job interviews or receive a big internship soon. There is going to be an opportunity coming your way that will be blessing you financially. Pay attention to your intuition and how it will make you feel. If something makes you happy and feel good inside, it is meant for you. If you feel a bad vibe or something is not right, trust your gut instincts! Do not allow others to pressure, persuade, or force you into doing things you don't want to. I also believe this ties in with the addiciton factor, the people in your path could be codependent on you or they will try to push you into doing things that are not beneficial for your growth. You are not obligated to do anything these people say, focus on your best interest. Either cut these people off or stay away from them, pile 4! It is very important that when you go into the new year that you stay away from any substances that are harmful to your health. Regardless, you will be very happy, healthy, and wealthy in the upcoming year 🏆!

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general (on ml)

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER FOUR ▪︎ ALL BEDS ARE FULL, SORRY (6.9k)

Long grass tickles your knees through the holes in your jeans. Turns out, people don't mow their lawns anymore once the world has turned to shit, meaning you have to suffer from itchy knees when occasionally walking through someone's yard. Basic apocalypse problems. That and, you know, infected zombies who want to eat you. Very comparable issues in your opinion.

The city neighbourhoods are overgrown and broken in several ways, ranging from small potholes to entire streets caved in. Evidently, this has made your trek to the hospital nearly impossible. More than once have you slipped on, tripped over, or ran into something. Spatial awareness does not appear to be your strong suit, but hey, at least you have good aim. That's gotta count for something.

"Hold on, I have to check the map..." Chan slows down, swinging his bag off his shoulder.

The street you're on is bigger, shops lined up and down the long road. Most have been broken into, windows shattered and things tossed over inside. Few remain somewhat untouched, ones that look like they were abandoned long before the apocalypse hit, with wooden boards where doors or glass should be. Up ahead is a small music store, or at least you assume it is based on the hanging sign of a guitar. While Chan looks over the map with Jeongin, you wander to the storefront.

Through still intact windows, you can see a few open instrument cases lying around, big and small. There are racks of CD's and vinyl records, some displayed on the back wall above the counter. The door opens with a slight touch, dust invading your senses as you walk in. By the counter is a jukebox, but when you try and use it, it doesn't work.

"Obviously, it's dead," You say to yourself. "It's been too long."

On the opposite side is a beaten up piano, keys yellowed but none missing. Scratches line the side facing the front, and you notice they aren't regular scratches, they're tally marks. You don't stop to wonder who put them there or why, shoving it to the back of your mind. Pressing down on a key, it makes a sad noise, but noise nonetheless. You smile, playing around with the piano, bringing a finger to one end and brushing it over to the other end. The noise is makes isn't pretty; it isn't like a symphony or any kind of trained musician, but a way to say I'm still here.

Loud banging comes from above you, like someone punching a door over and over again. You're quick to leave the store, not wanting to stick around and find out what, or who, it is. You imagine it's the same person who left the marks on the piano.

You rejoin the others on the other side of the street, stopped in front of a small café. Chan has outlined a route in red, running a finger down it when he explains to the others how this'll go.

"We're here, okay?" He points to a red dot on a long street. "We need to get here," He points to a blue dot, "Jeongin helped me make a route, but it's gonna be hard. Really, we should be able to head straight then down this side street onto the next main road where the hospital will be down just a bit, but that-" He gestures to a large truck on its side down the road, blocking your way, "-creates an issue. As you can see, there's another side street we passed a while back we can get through."

"Doesn't that bring us closer too?" Han steps in. "Look, the hospital is here. Now we don't need to backtrack, right?"

"No," Chan shakes his head. "There's a blockage there too, conveniently. But going down this alley leads to another neighbourhood we can cut through, then backtrack to the hospital since it opens up to the main road over here."

"Honestly, you lost me at the truck," Hyunjin admits. "Lead the way and we'll follow."

Chaeryeong laughs, holding onto his shoulder. Her laugh is contagious, and soon enough everyone is shaking.

"Okay, it wasn't that funny," Hyunjin chuckles.

The walk back to the side street doesn't take long. Half-way down is some sort of barricade, similar to ones you've seen in diagrams in your QZ. Although it looks old, there's a truck parked by it that looks too clean to belong there. No people hang around, so you ignore it, following the group through the alley.

It opens up to a cul-de-sac, and an eerie feeling falls over you as you walk the road leading out to where the hospital should be. It's too quiet, and you realize how long it's been since you've seen any infected. You slow down, turning in a slow circle to take in the surrounding houses. Something isn't right, but you can't place what it is.

"Everything okay?" Felix puts a hand on your shoulder, noting your expression.

"When was the last time we saw any infected?" You ask, but he doesn't answer. "Felix, when?"

"Um, right when we entered the city, I think," He answers. "Why?"

"Isn't that weird?"

He has no chance to respond, a loud boom setting off in the distance. The ground underneath you shakes, and you can see a cloud of smoke in the distance rising over the rooftops. Chan steps forward, hands on his hips.

"I think we know where the hospital is."

-

Squads occupy the outside of the hospital, and you have no idea how you're getting in. You watch the patrolling soldiers walk their routes, memorizing where they go and when from behind an abandoned car. The plan is for you and Seungmin to gain entry using your QZ knowledge as access, having taken out two soldiers further away from the hospital and stealing their uniforms. They fit well enough and you hope no one will notice the way you had to cuff the pant legs or the way the arms of Seungmin's shirt were just too short.

Strolling out from behind the car, you take the lead and make your way to the hospital entrance. Passing the first few soldiers is easy, nodding a greeting as you walk. Your palms sweat and your heartbeat quickens as you get closer and closer to the doors. For a moment you think you'll make it undetected.

"You two, stop right there." Your feet are glued to the ground, Seungmin stopping beside you.

When the soldier walks around, you keep your eyes forward and put on your best salute. He's taller than you, and you can smell his cologne when he gets closer to you, examining every inch of your body. In the corner of your eye, Seungmin tenses when the soldier places a hand on your waist.

"Feel like I'd have remembered a pretty thing like you walking around here," He smirks. "Say, what's your squad? You apart of fourteen-four?"

Fourteen-four is here?

"Yes sir," You respond, voice steady.

"So why are you here?" He lets go of you, detaching the walkie-talkie from his hip. "Let me get in contact with Squad Leader Seo, sort this out."

"No!" You panic, and his eyebrows raise at your outburst. "Sorry, sir. There's really no need to do that, she actually sent us over to ask about any progress."

"Progress?" He questions.

"Yes sir." You think he's caught your bluff until he stands back, hands on his hips and looking up to the clouds.

"Why didn't she just radio? Would've been easier, ah, well, you're here now." He motions you forward. "C'mon."

Instead of heading straight to the front doors, he makes a right and leads you to the side of the hospital where a hole is blown through the wall. You look at Seungmin, silently agreeing that must have been what you heard earlier as the smoke still lingers around the edges. Stepping over the broken wall, you enter the hospital where there are soldiers everywhere.

"We've cleared out this half of the main floor so far and sent Squad Twelve-Oh-Seven upstairs, but haven't heard back yet." He leads you through the rubble, greeting fellow soldiers as he goes. "As you can see, we haven't found them yet, otherwise we'd be gone by now. Another squad is being sent out and should be here within the hour to check out the lower levels. We think they may be somewhere in operating rooms or emerge, but we haven't gotten that far.

"That enough for Seo?" He turns to face you. "I know she likes to be thorough with these kinds of things. Too thorough sometimes, but you didn't hear that from me."

"Should be enough, sir," Seungmin answers. "Mind if we take a vehicle back with us? We didn't have enough to spare for just two soldiers."

"Sure, of course." The man leads you back out. "Don't know why Squad Leader Seo would make you walk out this far without one, even with limited resources. How long it take you?"

"We had someone drive most of the way, so not long," Seungmin answers when you fail to think of something. "Thank you, sir."

Taking the keys, he salutes again and you do the same. You get into the passenger's side, sighing heavily when Seungmin starts driving away.

"What the fuck!" You exclaim. "What the actual fuck? We are literally going the opposite direction we need to go now. How is this supposed to help us get into the hospital? What, are we gonna drive straight through?" You see Seungmin shrug in the corner of your eye. "No, no, stop it. That's not happening."

"It's not a bad idea-"

"Yeah, it's a terrible idea! Aren't you supposed to be the smart and logical one in this friendship?" You cross your arms; he makes a left turn. "The one who stopped me from breaking into Minho's office, for example? In case you need a reminder?"

"Still the smart and logical one, but now the frustrated one." He parks the car outside of a hotel. "This plan was fool-proof and we managed to mess it up. If we go back, they'll know something's up with us and contact Seo. That is, if they haven't already."

You sigh. "So what now- oh, damn it."

Shrinking down in your seat with the stolen cap pushed over your eyes, you hear a knock on Seungmin's window. Glancing over, you see Chan standing with a stern look on his face. Disappointment is radiating off of him in waves and your stomach churns. Before, you'd been okay with this, the look in his eyes when you messed up with the gas; now that you've spent more time with him and have been on the receiving end of his love, you can't stand it.

"What is this?" Chan motions down the vehicle, another pickup truck replacing the one you had to give up much earlier in this journey. "Very nice, but how is this helping?"

"That's what I said," You mumble before you can stop yourself and Chan directs his attention to you.

"Would you like to answer?"

Seungmin steps in. "They thought we were there to check in and were already suspicious of us. I figured the least we could do is take something useful we can use."

"Okay," Chan rubs his forehead. "Here's what we're gonna do. Get out of the truck and come inside."

Stepping out, you follow Chan into the hotel lobby. He does a series of knocks on the boarded-up door and it opens seconds later, Chaeryeong greeting you as you walk in. The others are sitting around cleaning weapons and preparing to take on what lies in the hospital, Han and Jeongin standing immediately as you and Seungmin enter the building behind Chan. You hang your head low, avoiding eye contact.

"So, no access to the inside, but we have a truck again." Chan claps his hands together. "The occupants were suspicious of these two, so we can't use them again."

"Why were they suspicious?" Han asks, crossing his arms.

"We had to pretend to be a part of another squad in order to stay under the radar, but it was clear the guy in charge didn't fully believe us at points," Seungmin starts. "There's a ton of soldiers on the inside searching for people, I'm guessing the same ones we're here for. Another squad is being sent out to aid them."

"As if there aren't enough of them," Hyunjin scoffs. "Can't we just sneak in through a side they're not on?"

"Yes," Chan says slowly. "However, we don't know what's in there. The whole point of this deception was to get in the safest way possible, searching the area in plain sight. Using a different entrance means not knowing what we'll walk into, and we don't know how much ground they've already covered-"

"We do," You interrupt. "Sorry, um, we do. They mentioned most of the main floor is done, but they haven't touched any operating rooms or emergency, which should be on the other side."

You can see Chan taking in this information and thinking of a new plan, his eyes unfocused just a bit when he looks away from you. He turns and walks around in a slow circle, stopping when Felix speaks.

"What if we used ourselves as bait?" He proposes, gaining everyone's attention. "Listen, we have great snipers who can keep an eye on us from here since we're not too far from the hospital. The rest of us can pretend Y/n and Seungmin found us getting ready to storm the building on their way back to the squad. When they take us away, and hopefully Y/n and Seungmin with us, we can take out the guards and make our way through."

"That's a good idea," You say, nudging Seungmin with an elbow.

No one speaks after you for a good minute and you start to sweat. With a sigh, Chan starts nodding.

"We can try that, but we need to be very careful," He says. "Han, Chae, try to get a few floors up if you can and keep an eye out from there in case things go wrong. Stay on the same floor, but take different rooms."

They agree in sync, grabbing their weapons and heading toward the stairwell.

"Wait," Seungmin takes a small device out of his pocket. "This was in the back of the truck, brand new. Or at least, not used yet, so they won't pick us up over them hopefully. Let us know when you're in position and we'll move out."

"Most likely, we'll be coming out from the other side of the hospital, so we'll also call to let you know when we vacate so you know to bring the truck around." Chan accepts the other walkie-talkie from Seungmin, lifting it to his lips while pressing the button on the side. "Got it?"

"Loud and clear," Han answers into the device. "Over and out!"

He salutes as he walks backward to the door where Chaeryeong is waiting for him. You look at your team; you, Seungmin, Chan, Felix, Jeongin, and Hyunjin. A good team, you think, a very good team.

Getting back to the hospital takes a bit longer walking, leaving the truck behind for the two to come get you after. There's no need to rough up the four men you hold onto, hands bound by rope behind them. Chan took the wrapping off his arm to reveal a nasty cut left by an infected, but it looks enough like it was created by a weapon to pass. Jeongin dramatizes his limp, Felix has a bruise left on his cheek from a previous night, and Hyunjin wears a shirt with old blood and holes on the side. Once the soldiers realize the injuries are old or fake, you won't have much time to execute your plan.

"Back so soon?" The soldier who took notice of you earlier calls out.

You wait until you get closer to reply. "Found these guys on our way back not too far out arming what looked to be homemade bombs. Managed to get some info out, claiming they're part of the rebellion." You push Chan and Hyunjin forward. "Not that it exists anymore."

"Funny you say that." The soldier gets closer and you catch a glimpse of his nametag this time; Officer Song. "Wanna know what, or maybe I should say who, also doesn't exist?"

Sweat beads on your forehead, a chill running down your spine. "What- er, who?"

"You two," He says, pointing his fun directly at your chest. "Grab them."

Another soldier comes out from behind him and you try to protest, but with a swift kick to the back of your knees, you're down, and so is Seungmin, another soldier pinning him down fully. You're yanked back up by your hair, hands instinctively reaching up, and he grabs your wrists, bringing them behind you roughly. Crying out in pain as you feel the twist, he binds your wrists together with real handcuffs, not like the rope you used for your own group. Soldiers descend on the other four, taking hold of them. You're lifted up from your underarms, a hand coming out to grab your upper arm tightly and you wince; he grabs at the same place you got stitches, and Jeongin narrows his eyes.

"Story time." Officer Song leads the group of soldiers through the hole in the wall, bringing you down a long hallway as he speaks. "I touched base with Squad Leader Seo, letting her know her soldiers were on their way back. Funny thing is, she had no idea what I was talking about. So I described you." He turns a corner, opening a door. "Took her a second, but she said she didn't have anyone in her squad who looked like either of you, and her squad isn't big so I know she's not lying."

As you enter a room, the soldier holding you tosses you to the ground like you weigh nothing, sliding over the linoleum floor on your side. You flip onto your back, trying to maneuver to an upright position.

"Stop squirming." A boot lands in your stomach and you yelp, but the message is recieved and you stop moving, lying on your side and watching the others get tossed beside you through your hair.

Only Hyunjin and Felix are tossed beside you, the other three being brought to another room, separating you. Officer Song stays behind with a select few soldiers, the door locking when the others are gone.

"What exactly was your plan? Come in here right under our noses and steal our supplies?" Officer Song crouches down in front of you, face close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. "Or was it information you were after?"

You don't answer.

"Considering our chat and your silence, I'll assume the latter." His fingers gingerly brush hair out of your face and you shudder. "Your plan would have worked if not for Seo, or the evidence you left behind." At your confusion, he continues. "Maybe don't leave the bodies you stripped on their patrol route."

Realization dawns on you, but you know he's right, that was stupid of you.

"Still not speaking?" Officer Song gets up, strolling away with his hands on his hips. "Maybe one of them?"

He eyes Felix, but the younger man refuses to make eye contact. The bruise on his cheek is slightly worse now and your heart aches at the sight.

"No?" He grips the back of Felix's head by the hair, Felix's mouth falling open with a sharp inhale. "Okay. Then you, pretty boy?"

He looks over at Hyunjin, who stares daggers at the man. Officer Song laughs, letting go of Felix to stand in front of Hyunjin, not bothering to crouch this time. In an instant, his gun is pointed at you.

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you're looking at her." He clicks the safety off. "Answer me, or I'll shoot."

"You wouldn't," Hyunjin speaks through gritted teeth.

"Try me."

A bullet pierces the wall beside your head and your ears ring, breath temporarily snatched from your lungs. Through the ringing, you can hear Hyunjin panicking, calling out your name. You can't make out many words, but you see Officer Song smack Hyunjin across the face, leaving the room with one soldier to watch over you. The soldier does nothing when Hyunjin shuffles over to you.

"Y/n?" The ringing is starting to subside. "Say something."

"Hyunjin," You don't know how loud you're speaking.

"You're okay," He says. "We'll get out of here, okay? Somehow, we'll get out."

It feels like forever, waiting for Officer Song to come back. No one enters or exits your room for a long time, and when they do, it's only to switch shifts watching over you. At some point, you managed to sit up against the wall behind you.

The room you're in isn't big, assuming it was once a private room for a patient. Several beds are stacked and shoved to the right side of the room, a couple of side tables piled in the corner. IV drips are thrown in the general direction of the furniture, landed on top and around things, some still leaning upright. A window stretches from the door to the end of the wall, but the blinds are drawn and dirty.

"Hey," You call out to the soldier standing guard, a plan forming in your head. "Any way I could use the washroom?" No response. "Please? Pretty please?"

"Fine, if it'll shut you up." The soldier leaves his post, leaning down to pick you up from the armpit.

Your timing is a little off, but you fling your body forward and bite him in the leg. His shout is cut off, tripping over your body with a thud. Rolling out from under him, you move your body on top of his, back to back. He's squirming under you, but you're quicker than him, twisting your arms up and around his head. Pain shoots up into your shoulders as you lift yourself up hard, handcuffs cutting into the man's neck. Under you, he gasps for air and you pull harder, feet braced on either side of his body. You see his hand moving to find his fun, so you step on his fingers with your heel. Soon enough, his movement lessens, and then stops altogether.

"That was weirdly hot," Hyunjin's voice brings you back.

"Come here and take his gun," You order. "We're lucky he has a silencer, cause we need to shoot these things off."

You get off the body, lifting your arms up to show off the metal binding you. Hyunjin uses his foot to carefully knock the gun out of the holster, turning around to grab it with his hands.

"Felix, can you be my eyes?" Hyunjin asks as you turn your back to him, moving your hands as far away from you as you can. "Guide my aim so I don't shoot her in the back."

"Wouldn't want that happening." You see Felix move between you in the corner of your eye. "Down a bit, no, too down. Okay, to the left slightly or you'll shoot her hand off instead- good! Stop! Okay, and go."

A smothered shot sounds, and your wrists are free from one another. One side is longer than the other, but at least you still have both hands. Taking the gun from Hyunjin's hands, you shoot the cuffs off of him and Felix. All three of you are stuck with metal bracelets for now, not daring to shoot too close to the skin. Moving to the window, you squint through the blinds and into the dim hallway.

Night must have moved in, only a lantern seated on top of a bed in the hall providing light. You can see two shadows, two people having a conversation, but they're stretched out as if they aren't standing too close to the lantern. Opening the door enough to stick your head out, you don't see any others. The two nearby are in the room next to you, door wide open, and on the other side are double doors blocked by upturned tables. Directly in front of you are windows mimicking the ones in your room, a door further down falling across from the soldiers. You close the door.

"I might be wrong, but I think the others are in the room across from us, but we need to be careful getting inside. Beside us are some soldiers, so either we take them out or we sneak inside," You tell Hyunjin and Felix. "The door isn't exactly aligned with theirs, so we might be good to sneak, but there's a lantern that'll cast our shadows if we get too close. It looks far enough down as to not cause issue, but we need to pay attention to distance, okay?"

"I like it when you're in leader mode," Hyunjin sighs.

"Flirt later," Felix rolls his eyes, but his mouth betrays him, pursing his lips to suppress a smile. "Let's do this before they try and check on us."

"We also need to keep in mind they probably have a guard watching over them," Hyunjin points out and you nod. "So whoever goes in first needs to be ready to take them out. I think Felix should lead, even though it's your plan Y/n. He's the stealthiest out of us."

"I'm good with that as long as he is." You nod.

"Sure, sure," Felix agrees. "You don't happen to have your knives, do you?"

"Afraid not," You say unhappily. "Chan only let me carry one, and they took it off me. He was supposed to bring me my others when Seungmin and I found a secure way in, and when the plan changed I guess I forgot to grab them."

He's not happy with your answer, but neither are you. Retrieving your knives should have been your number one priority, but you suppose you're lucky in a way because at least this means they didn't confiscate all your weapons for when you finally escape. Felix crouches down as he opens the door, taking a few steps then pausing. His hand flies behind him when you try to join, telling you to keep your distance. After a beat, he moves again, motioning you forward when he's about halfway to the door. His body is pressed against the wall, eyes darting between the lively room and down the dark hallway.

Voices get louder and you see the shadows on the floor get bigger. When one of the soldiers emerges from the room, you drop down and shuffle backward until you lightly touch the leg of the table blocking the double doors. You stay in that position, watching Hyunjin shut the door of your room quietly, and observe the soldier. No one breaths as the soldier strides up to the lantern, and you have no idea how Felix hasn't been spotted considering how close to the door he is now. The soldier picks up the lantern and twists it out, darkening your surroundings further. He waves goodnight to his fellow man, taking the lantern as he goes in the opposite direction of your crew.

As you move back to where you were before, you knock lightly on the door to let Hyunjin know he's okay to move out now. When you get closer to Felix, he places a hand on the doorknob and waits for Hyunjin to join you. Once he's by your side, Felix is quick to open the door and get up into a fighting stance, you and Hyunjin following close behind. The door shuts behind you and you brace for a fight, but nothing happens, the scene in front of you seizing your lungs.

Nothing could have prepared you for seeing the man in front of you again. Standing behind Chan, he freezes like a deer in headlights as you make eye contact, dropping the keys in his hands onto the floor. Chan rubs his wrists where the handcuffs were just seconds ago, stepping out of the way, the only boundary between you and him. Seungmin and Jeongin are off to the side, red marks visible where their handcuffs used to be as well, and the metal still dangling off your wrists feels heavier than ever. You force air into your lungs, swallowing roughly. There's a sting behind your eyes that you've become an expert at ignoring.

"Why are you here?" You ask, keeping your voice as steady as possible.

"I could ask the same thing." Minho is over in three long strides, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders. "Thought I didn't believe in ghosts, yet here you are."

Emotion strangles you as you reciprocate the hug. So, he did think you were dead after all. This brings you little comfort, imagining his nights after what took place. Did he get nightmares? Did he dream of you dying over and over again like you dreamed of him leaving over and over again? Did he blame himself? Does he blame himself?

"This is a nice reunion and all," Jeongin starts. "But can we get this show on the road? We don't have all day."

"Hold on," You say. "Why are you even here? And why are you helping us?"

"Seo contacted me after your cover got busted, and I was on my way here anyway as support." Minho detaches from you, nodding his head toward a bag on the floor next to the door. A body lays on the other side of it overturned, unclear if they're dead or unconscious. "It was easy enough finding out where you were, a bit harder to get a big bag of weapons in here undetected. I lied and said it was for Song."

"Have I ever told you I love you?"

"No," He smiles, bunny teeth on display. "And don't you start now."

"Wasn't going to," You punch him lightly in the shoulder, dropping in front of the bag. There wasn't a huge selection, but you already had the gun. You grab the two knives and strap one to your waist and one to your thigh, grabbing an empty holster for your new gun. "All set."

"Did you see the doors at the end?" Minho asks, you and the others nod. "Go through there and run. Don't stop until you've gotten to the other side. I wasn't able to grab it, but Song has a map of this place. There should be a stairwell on the other side behind another set of doors, get down to the parking levels and out."

"We're not leaving here," Chan steps in. "There's a reason we came here, and I intend to stick it through."

"Do you not understand the risk you're taking right now?" Minho looks at Chan like he's crazy. "You're going to get yourself, or one of your crew, killed. I'm assuming you're after the same people we are?" Chan nods stiffly. "As far as we know, they're located in the emergency wing, but it's riddled with infected from the outbreak. They've been trapped here for god knows how long. Do you really think they'll show mercy? Those people are probably dead anyway."

"Those people have someone important to me," Chan says, taking a handgun from the bag.

"And you'll risk it all for them? You'll risk your people?"

"Anyone who doesn't want to come can leave instead." He checks his ammo, shoves it in his belt. "You know where to go if you want out."

No one moves, no one says a thing, all in silent agreement: we are not leaving you. Minho turns to you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"You don't have to do this," He's all but pleading. "Come with me. Lie, say they took you hostage."

"I... I can't," You stand your ground. "I can't do that Minho, not after everything."

"Please, Y/n, consider it for a moment-"

"I had months to consider going back! Months, and you didn't even come looking for me. Months where all I could do was sit with a broken leg and wonder how you could leave me like that. Months replaying that moment in my head where you made the decision to leave." The sting behind your eyes is back, your throat raw. "Months trying to feel at home again, months that you were no longer it."

Your words hit Minho and you see his throat bob when he looks away from you, hand sliding away. "I made a promise not to let you die."

"You already broke it when you left."

Shaking his head, he steps past you and opens the door. "Get ready. Be careful with the table, it's squeaky, and move quietly."

Exiting the room, he strides over to where the soldiers are, and you can see now it isn't actually a room but a counter wrapping around the corner. The soldier starts to swing around in the chair he's in, but Minho places a hand firmly on the back and stands to block you from view. Your heart aches as you look away, focusing on the task at hand. The table isn't heavy, but it takes most of you to move it in a way that doesn't create noise, angling enough to nudge the door open and get through one side. You're about to go through when you pause, looking back to the room you were kept in.

"Hold on," You say to Chan, who's holding the door open.

"We don't have time-"

"I need to check something." You hope the importance translates into your tone. It must because, after a long look, Chan sighs and nods you off. You backtrack, opening the door with care and closing it behind you.

The man lies still on the other side of the room, head facing away from you. Already, purple bruises have formed on his neck, cutting off behind his ears where you see a small tattoo of someone's name. Getting closer, you can see a heart beside it and your stomach drops, hand hesitantly pressing at the hollow of his neck under his jaw. Nothing, no beat, and you fight the sick feeling rising up your throat. He was human. He had loved ones. He is dead, and you killed him.

Unable to stand being so close to his body any longer, you leave and hurry out of the double doors where Chan waits for you. The others aren't there, and you assume Chan instructed them to get to the other side in case something happens. It won't be long until a soldier notices the table has been moved, so you take Minho's advice and run.

More rooms with patient beds occupy this area, debris and old, used medical supplies strewn across your path. You slip once on a discarded needle, but Hyunjin catches you before you hit the ground. The door on the other side takes some effort to get through, Chan and Seungmin using their full body weight against it. On the other side, you can see part of the ascending stairway has collapsed, covering one side of the door. You go down, Chan leading the way to the parking garage, and you're only a little bit confused.

"Why are we leaving?" You ask, staying close to Chan.

"We aren't, but it'll be easier to get into emerge this way rather than through the hospital since we can circle around to the back door." He pulls open a heavy, metal door and lets the others walk through before him. "Keep an eye out for infected."

"Always," You say, voice echoing.

A creaking noise is heard from your left, a groan right after, and you already know the challenge ahead. The way out is in the same direction as the inhuman noises, the only way out. The path ahead is clear of obstructions, but stepping down from the door, your feet are met with shallow water, enough to cause issue when you continue to walk slowly. The water comes up to your ankles, sloshing with every move you make. Sounds of groaning and croaking get closer, and you fear they've heard you. Dim lighting gives you an advantage, but you still stay low, using the broken down cars as cover. In front of you, Jeongin stops suddenly causing you to bump into his back, but he doesn't stumble.

Water sloshes noisily between the cars in front of you and you just barely spot the head of a zombie emerging from the narrow passage. Its body twitches in various spots, the shoulder, the neck, each finger on the left hand. You hold your breath as it walks across the open area, hitting a car on the other side straight on. You almost laugh, almost. Jeongin waits until the infected has successfully moved past the car before continuing the journey. The exit seems so far, yet so close as you crawl painstakingly slow.

Finally, you cross onto dry land as the ground begins to ascend. Up ahead is the garage door, light seeping through the open half. Jeongin crawls under, barely managing to squeeze through, holding it on the other side for you to join him. Once with him, you grab the other end and lift it for the others to fit through. The garage door creaks loudly and you hear the cry of an infected from inside.

"Hurry!" You whisper shout to Felix, Chan, and Seungmin as they join you, Hyunjin quick to follow after you.

Right as Seungmin is crawling under, he's jerked back, hands grabbing the air for something to hold onto. The door is getting heavier in your arms, and you can't reach out for him in fear of it dropping and shutting him in completely. Chan turns around quickly, taking hold of his arm and pulling forward until Seungmin lands a kick to the zombie's face, leaving it stumbling backward down the incline, a splash indicating its failure. You and Jeongin drop the door with a loud thump, arms aching.

"Let me check that," Felix instructs him to sit on the curb of the driveway you're now in. Seungmin hisses as his pant leg is shifted up to reveal a nasty gash running the lower half of his calf, a smaller scrape parallel to it. "Shit, we need to stitch this up. Jeongin?"

"You've got it." Jeongin hands Felix a small pouch with medical supplies out of the waistline of his pants, snug between his skin and belt. "I don't know how they didn't find this on me."

"Hey, did Jisung ever call on the walkie-talkie?" You hear Hyunjin ask Chan in a low voice, standing a bit further from the group.

"Yeah, luckily it was right when, ah, Minho?" Hyunjin nods. "Right, okay. He called when Minho arrived and I haven't had the chance to call back, I should now actually."

Chan walks away and you bring your eyes back to Seungmin, his face contorted in pain as Felix stitches him up. It isn't as clean as the ones Jeongin did on you, but not bad either. Hyunjin joins you, arms coming around your front as he stands against your back. You can hear Chan conversing with Han, but he's wandered too far for you to make out any words.

"Feeling okay?" Hyunjin asks, directly in your ear.

"Huh?" He must be referring to the encounter with Minho. "Oh, yeah, I guess so. It... it felt kind of good to tell him all that. I can't help but think that's going to be the last time I see him though, and it hurts."

"You've got us now, you'll be okay without him." You want to argue that, tell him how a piece of your heart will always be missing without him. It's not as simple as who you have with you currently or not. He took care of you when you had no one, and you chose to leave him as he did you. Instead, you slide away from Hyunjin and sit next to your best friend on the curb where he's rubbing his now clothed leg.

"Stop trying to die on me." You flick him in the shoulder.

"I should be saying that to you," He replies, sticking out his tongue. "So, Minho-"

"We are not talking about him right now," You cut him off. "I literally just escaped that conversation with Hyunjin."

He hums in response, amused. Chan comes back into view, explaining that Han and Chaeryeong have left the hotel after spotting a group of soldiers heading in their direction and you ignore the way your chest tightens. "They've gathered any items we left in the lobby and will be taking a long circle to meet us back here since it's pretty closed off. We clear?" Everyone nonverbally agrees. "Good. Now, someone help me with these doors."

He moves to the emergency room doors where it's clear somebody has tried to pry their way in before, leaving one door open on an angle. Jeongin steps up, taking hold of the other door and pulling, Chan doing the same. The door Chan pulls barely budges, the angle jamming it in place, but Jeongin's opens with surprising ease. You're all about to move in, but Jeongin sticks a hand out to block the entrance. He lifts a finger to his lips, moving down to his knees.

"Look inside," He whispers.

So you do, and you see more infected than you've ever seen in an enclosed space. Most are standing up completely still, body parts twitching in places like the infected that pulled Seungmin down. All the beds are full, infected left to fester after the hospital closed its doors to new patients. How the fuck were you supposed to get through now?

---

notes ▪︎ not looking good!!! and ouch, poor seung... at least he isn't dead tho !

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuff @ot8girlfie @quokkabite @linoslawayslinos @reapers-lover @hannieslittlerockstar @kiki0113 @nishiriks @nxtt2-u @moonlightjam

reply or send an ask to be added ^ 18+ only. green means i can't tag you

[gkutfdvnn]

It had been quite the summer, some friends of mine had rented some new apartment and we all decided to chip in to wallpaper and paint all the different rooms. Though some of us complained that it was too hard a job and exhausting, I found that it was quite easy. The four rooms were shared between the six of us, first we would do the three bedrooms in groups of two and then the kitchen all together. Luckily I had been paired with Frank, he had already started his own painting business and walked me through every step, taking off the wallpaper before putting the new one with glue. Eventually Dylan, Bryan and Chris whom the apartment belonged to, and Jeff, to had asked for his help, after making sure I could finish alone. Eventually after three days we were all finished wallpapering and painting the bedrooms and decided to take a one day break. Mark complimented me on my work, stating that I had put the wallpaper perfectly on and that the paint looked great, jokingly asking if I would join his business. That's when Bryan and Chris chimed in, suggesting that we could finish the kitchen, against pay of course.

That's how Mark and I ended up doing the kitchen together, I didn't mind the extra money, and he seemed to be used to the job. Since he had already walked me through the different steps we were quick to work, we had plenty of time to hang out and chill. When it came time to pay, Chris suggested he could transfer all the money to Mark, who then could issue me a check. Just wanting to go home I promptly agreed and we left it at that.

That's when to my surprise I received a letter, with my check, through Marks business, stating me as an employee and worker. I sent him a short message explaining the mistake before heading out towards the bus station, leaving for my afternoon classes.

Mark's response came in the middle of the ride, apologizing for the mistake and joking that it wouldn't be so bad to have me as a worker, he then assured me that he would fix the mistake immediately. I laughed through my nose and thanked him, bending myself forward to grab what would have been my bag, except that in its place instead stood a big black gym bag. I looked to my left and to my right, maybe it had slipped to one side or the other while the bus was turning. There were few people sitting around me and my bag was nowhere to be seen. None of them looked like the gym bag could belong to them. That's when I noticed it had my name written on it.

Curiosity got the better of me and I opened the bag. Inside layed some well folded change clothes that seemed a bit too big for me. Some lunch and an axe spray. The smell of fresh paint hit me strong and I had to lift my head up to sneeze. At the same time my feet felt cramped inside my shoes. At first I stretched my legs thinking it would help with the pain. But then it seemed to travel up my calves and into my thighs. My brown shoes bulged and turned softer, lighting up before taking the appearance of beaten and used white sneakers. The shoes appeared slightly bigger yet both my feet seemed to fit perfectly. Next my calves and thighs cramped again. I spread them further apart helping with the pain as I noticed my legs taking a bit more space on my seat. My beige pants became looser and thicker, the texture changing from cotton to synthetic fabric. New thicker seams appeared above my knee and around the growing pockets giving them the same look as those pants Mark wore most of the time. The clean pants were rapidly becoming dirty and used, white splotches and streams of dried paint appeared on the cloth.

I looked around me worrying about what was happening to me, but none of the other passengers seemed to notice or even bother as my whole body changed. I caught my reflection on the windows, my black hair was lighting and gaining a brown hue as it shortened and thinned. More changes happened to my face, my jaw got thicker and my noise pointer and thinner. The blue of my eyes vanished behind a beautiful rich brown as memories of my life were altered. Knowledge about economics, politics and sociology faded while I could remember working for Mark. Tattoos grew on my right arm as both my upper body and biceps grew firm. My hands and finger were wriggling as they grew thick and calloused making it look like I did a lot of manual labor. That's when it hit me. Mark was actually making me one of his employees ! I scrambled for my phone as fast as I could, finding in its place a smaller and older IPhone with earpods, I swiped across the screen and opened my messages as most of my known friends had simply vanished from my contact lists, I couldn't even find the last conversation with Mark. That's when it hit me. He must be the one labelled as "Boss".

I wanted to press on the writing symbol, yet I froze. It didn't make sense for me to write my boss out of the blue, except for emergencies. I closed my phone again and spread my legs apart as I lifted my arms to put them behind my head. A tan complexion washed over my skin as I closed my eyes to listen to the music. All I had to worry about was doing a good job.

[paingoes]

Rubies

Check In

this is the most living weapon its gotten in a while

(Content: living weapon whumpee, recovery, conditioning, past abuse, guilt, emotional whump, death mention)

Delta rolled over in the bed. He didn’t startle so much when he woke up anymore; the room had become familiar. Even weeks later, he still slept much more there than he ever had on the Thorn. He was still so tired all the time. They’d said it was okay for him to rest. He was grateful for that.

The only issue was how disoriented it made him. He didn’t know what time it was when he awoke, but the sky outside was bright and airy. He slowly rose up, about to brush his hair out of his face when he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. So weird.

He cracked open the bedroom door, doing his best to keep quiet. It was a force of habit. He slipped out into the hallway.

Levon was standing in the kitchen.

Delta dropped as soon as his eyes fell on him. Before Levon could even get a word out, he’d already gotten onto the floor, bowed down about as low as he could get.

He didn’t hear Kitty approach, but she was at his side soon enough, gently urging him off of the ground. He almost fought her. He didn’t want to. He reluctantly stood up, but he could not bring himself to look up. In his periphery, Levon leaned back against the kitchen counter. 

“Good morning, Delta.” He was unperturbed by the display, not upset with him for standing, as deeply wrong as it felt to do it.

It was the first time he’d said his name. Delta paid careful attention to the way he’d handled it. No contempt. No anger. 

Apollo stood back against the stove, staring daggers at Levon. He dropped the expression just as soon as he was caught doing it, but the discontent was still written across his face. A few bags were laid out on the counter.

Kitty’s hand still hung loosely in his own from where she’d picked him up off the ground. He found himself gripping it a little tighter. She bumped into him, nuzzling a bit like she was trying to mark her scent on him. He was already wearing her jacket.

“Thought I’d drop in to see how things are going. I brought you some clothes and some groceries. I’d have stopped by early, but I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately.” 

Something changed in Levon’s voice on those last few syllables. Nobody else would have noticed, but Delta had become adept at measuring people’s emotions. Finding their tipping points. It’d been a matter of survival.

He resisted the urge to drop to the floor again. He wouldn’t beg for forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it. But he was sorry. He knew what preoccupied meant.

“Things are going fine.” Apollo’s tone didn’t betray any of his enmity. “Maybe you’d like to give him a minute to get his bearings? He just woke up.”

“I’m okay,” Delta said weakly, surprising himself. Surprising them, clearly. 

He clamped his hand over his mouth just as quickly. He hadn’t been given permission to speak, not in front of Levon. He wouldn’t have normally. He didn’t like to object, but he had an override: Levon didn’t need to give him anything.

“It won’t be long.” Levon rested his elbows against the counter. “You’ll have the rest of the day to yourself, I promise. Just a talk.”

“Yes, sir,” Delta confirmed cautiously, since he hadn’t been punished for speaking the first time. 

Kitty leaned closer against him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her wink.

~

They went outside. Levon had obviously wanted to talk alone, but was not so audacious as to kick Apollo out of his own house. Delta pulled on a pair of blue and white tennis shoes he’d recovered from the den before stepping out into the morning light. He hadn’t come out to this side of the house yet, certainly hadn’t ventured as far as the dirt road that led up to it. 

Levon’s ship was parked in the yard, nearly the same size as the house. It was a bright, electric purple, reflecting the sunlight out at harsh angles. His leather boots paced unbothered through the grass of the yard, getting dust on their edges as he walked out into the road. Delta followed after him. It was a bit hard to keep pace when Levon was so much taller. Levon slowed down to accommodate the difference.

It was warm out. Delta studied the trees of the forest around him — mostly Arecaceae. They were further South then he’d realized. Bright birds moved upwards in the canopy.

The wildlife was much easier to focus on than the figure beside him. He couldn’t help himself from tensing as Levon spoke.

“How’s your arm?” He cast a glance at the cast. Delta held it up for him, the way he would’ve under examination. If nothing else, Paris had at least made a clean break. It didn’t hurt much anymore. 

“It’s better. Thank you.” Delta blushed for some reason. It was hard to accept concern from Kitty or Apollo. It felt stranger coming from Levon. More taboo. He didn’t know why.

“You cut your hair,” Levon observed.

Delta flinched. 

“They…said I could,” he defended weakly. He shouldn’t have. He should’ve just left it alone, he didn’t know why he had even said anything in the first place. He started to apologize.

“No, it looks nice,” Levon said, “Lot less heavy, I’m sure.”

It was.

~

The road eventually led up to a tributary, which led up to a large lake. It was cooler by the edge of it; the wind carried off of the water.

“I wanted to check in to see if you were adjusting okay. I wanted to make sure that you were ready to come back,” Levon admitted, toeing at a stone with his boot. He cast Delta a sidelong glance. “Are you ready to come back?”

Delta stared at him blankly. Levon nodded; of course he didn’t know. Nobody had bothered to explain it to him. 

He passed him a smooth shaped stone. He didn’t know why. Gesture of moral support? Delta took it anyway.

“There’s going to be a trial. Nothing big. We just need to catch some of the council up to speed on your situation and establish a plan going forward.” He paused.

Delta had returned to staring at the ground. The thumb of his good hand turned anxiously over on the stone; he gave no other indication he was upset. Everything else remained perfectly neutral.

“This is only in the interest of security,” Levon tried to reassure him, “It won’t be punitive — though that may come up in conversation, nobody will go for it. I’d veto it before they could. I gave you my word that you wouldn’t be harmed and I mean that. Still…it may be a difficult experience for you. And your friends are concerned it may be too early.”

~

Delta blinked. They’d said that?

They’d been concerned about him. That strange, dull ache started up in his chest again. They’d defended him.

Not punitive, he’d said. Why not? He’d have deserved it. Amnesty was a promise they had made to him; it was never anything he had asked for. All he had wanted was to get out. Whatever they decided to do with him afterwards was beyond him. He’d have accepted it gladly. It was the least he deserved.

What plan, then?

The answer came to mind nearly before the question did. How best to utilize him. What targets to hit. How he’d need to be disciplined — not punished, disciplined — and how he’d need to be re-trained.

He’d do it. If Levon asked him to, he’d do it.

He thought of Lemuria. He thought, funnily enough, of the seagulls he’d once vaporized midair when they’d been in proximity of the target ship. What had the gull ever done wrong?

“I’ll go, sir,” he said, though he didn’t feel ready. By the end of the month, he’d be closer to it. He didn’t want to delay it. He didn’t want to be difficult.

“We’re still preparing,” Levon nodded, “You should be, too. It’d be nice to have a clearer view of what your desires are for the future. It’d give us something to work around. I don’t know if you’ve given it any thought, but I’d be remiss not to ask.”

A large waterfowl descended from the sky, landing noisily just at the edge of the water. His attention was drawn away for a second. He was still looking at it when he answered.

“I’m not sure I understand, sir.” He found himself gripping the rock tighter.

He could only read the question as a probe, something to get caught on. But he didn’t get the sense of Levon trying to trick him. He couldn’t untangle it.

“Would you want to stay onboard Galatea after all this? Or do you want to be done with it? I can’t make any promises, but we’d take it into consideration during the ruling.”

Oh. Oh.

They don’t need you.

The realization hit with both relief and devastation. The devastation won out. He couldn’t stop himself.

“I can still operate,” he said. He had never once had to fear obsolescence. It was a brand new terror. “I’m not at full capacity anymore, but it’s still viable. If you wanted me to. Sir.”

His hands traced the collar unconsciously. 

Levon had been standing with his hand on his hip, his head cocked to the side in a post that made him look younger than he was. Rebel heartthrob — he’d never forgotten how to act like it. As the offer, his posture dropped, his expression turning much more serious. 

Delta flinched from the way his face fell, the minute shift of his shoulder. But the hit didn’t come, again. 

“Delta,” he spoke calmly, but there was a sternness beneath it, “Do me a favor.”

“Yes, sir.” His fingers twitched. Anything.

“Don’t ever suggest that again.”

He shut down.

They didn’t want it. All his life he’d been indispensable and now they didn’t even want it. In that instant, the thousand discreet instances of indiscriminate killing came secondary to his desire to be needed.

Levon’s expression softened, his lips parting slightly as his eyes searched.

“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly. “To keep being a weapon?”

There was no good answer, no right one. To his horror, he realized his eyes had started watering again. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Oh, oh, no,” Levon’s eyes widened in surprise, all his harshness leaving. “Okay. Easy.”

“Sorry.” He wiped at his eyes frantically. “I didn’t…mean to.”

Fuck.

“You’re alright. So, more time then?” 

He hated to ask for it. He didn’t answer.

“Okay. More time,” Levon confirmed.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

It was his thousandth time hearing that. It never sank in. He’d never be sorry enough.

~

It was a somewhat awkward walk back to the house. Kitty hopped off the porch as they approached, making grabby hands. Delta took the one of them, letting her slide into place beside him. He appreciated the proximity. She glanced at his eyes, still a bit inflamed from crying, and leveraged herself in between him and Levon.

“Whaddya talk about?” she purred.

“The future,” Levon answered.

“Oh no.”

Delta pressed his forehead against her shoulder. He’d just woken up, but he was tired again. It was the kind of exhaustion sleep wouldn’t fix.

“I can extend the grace period if you really need it. Not by much, I’m afraid.” he cast a cautious look at Delta, “But you’d have more time to think it over.”

She moved up onto the porch. Delta hovered between her and the front door, unsure if he was being dismissed. Levon leaned against the railing at the bottom of the stairs, his hand returning to his hip.

“Really?” Her voice was bright, pleasantly surprised. “You’re gonna be able to hold up without me?”

“I know you’re still working,” he leveled. 

She giggled in response, the edge of her tail flicking back and forth, “I thought you needed the help.”

“There is no overstating how much help we need.”

Delta still hovered by the door, overcome with the strangest feeling of loss. He felt like he was witnessing something alien, the way people spoke when they did not have daggers drawn.

Levon pulled off of the lawn. The engine’s cacophony broke up the quiet morning, then was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

“It was nice of him to drop off clothes,” Apollo managed, the picture of civility. Delta slid into the chair by the pass-through, leaning his arms against the counter. He flinched as Kitty passed behind him, interpreting any movement he could not see as a threat. She just hopped up on the counter, swinging her legs a little.

“What’d he say to you?” She asked, a bit of the levity gone but none of the gentleness.

Delta bit his nails; it was a worse habit than the hair-twirling, but his hair was too short to do that now. He shrugged.

“…Asked what I wanted to do.”

“Oh,” she paused, “What do you want?”

He shrugged again. It was disrespectful. He should’ve stopped. It was just hard to speak.

“Hadn’t thought about it,” he mumbled. 

Because he hadn’t. He didn’t think it would matter, that anyone would even bother to ask.

He wanted to be useful, if he had to pick one. And he didn’t really want to kill again. Those two seemed at odds with one another. 

~~~

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @flowery-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem

[smoothoper44tor]

Tortuous love

(⛓️‍💥) Pairing: max verstappen x male! reader

(⛓️‍💥) Summary: Mark is willing to give Max a love he has never experienced before.

(⛓️‍💥) Genre: mostly fluff, angst

(⛓️‍💥) Warning: jos verstappen, child abuse, daddy issues, use of bad language, kinda cheesy, English is not my first language

masterlist

   Can you blame Max for finding relive in tortuous love? That’s all his father has ever taught him. Now he’s looking for his rude, soul devouring, soul taking love in everyone, and when he finds that person he holds them deeply with his long arms filled with hate. 

He can’t love like a normal person, and he can’t give a healthy expression of his love to the persons that deserve it. That’s the most likely reason to why Max hated him at the begging. He was easy to love, he liked most of the things Max did or said, admired them even, and called him out respectfully when he did something he did not agree with, he was open about his feelings. Open. About his feelings. A true nightmare of a teammate if you had to ask him, especially after Daniel.

   “God, Max- you’re so fucking amazing” his rookie teammate was hugging him as if his life depended on it, his sweat and the champagne rushing against Mark's blue helmet. He had won, but the brunette finished fourth, the first loser to miss the podium.

Max didn't felt that as a win, his father made sure he knew finishing first was his duty. Mark sure felt that as a win; he was congratulating him, telling him how amazing he was, and genuinely feeling happy for him. Truly a nightmare.

   "Thanks" he murmured, before letting himself be dragged by the crowd of Red Bull employees.

   Months after that, as they were preparing for the Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix, Mark had insisted in flying a couple of days early to enjoy the wonders of Italy. He had been trying to learn Italian for the last month, and Max can vividly remember the brunette hovering all over him with Italian catch-up lines.

When the brunette invited him to join his early flight he did, for some reason. He wasn't sure why he accepted, or why Mark invited him in the first place, but Max was happy about it. 

At least, until he founded out his teammate had also invited Lando. It was understandable, after all, you two started in f1 the very same year, and were also known for having a very deep, heart moving friendship. Max wished he hadn't felt as relieved as he did when he saw Carlos approaching with the papaya pilot. Carlos was never mentioned in the first place, but he was relieved the Spanish was there, hoping he would be enough to take Lando a bit away from Mark, so that way he wo- Wait, why the fuck did he wanted Mark’s attention in the first place?

   “Maxie” He was caught by the very one disturbing his mind. The brunette was giggling, his iPhone headphones hanging from his freckled neck. “You okay? You are not looking that good” Before Max could come with a cheap excuse, his teammate spoke again “I mean you do look good, you- shit! No. I didn’t mean it like- It’s not that I checked you out or anything, I just-" he was flustered, burning red colored all of his face. Max hadn’t even notice, been too focused on the other’s neck and the constellations forming there. 

   “It’s cool, I know what you meant” Mark sat next to him, hiding his face in between his hands. A brief smile danced in the blond face as he spoke again “I’m just thinking” Max leaned against the other, picking his shoulder “What are you listening?” The sudden, unexpected question seemed to erase every sight of blush. He jumped in his seat, practically throwing max one of the headphones in excitement.  

   Perhaps, Max had underestimated Mark’s abilities with language. When they arrived, he started speaking Italian more loosely than expected, not just catch-up lines, but actual sentences.

“You sound great” Max congratulated as the brunette handled him the ice cream he had just asked for. 

“Grazie mille, signori” Max giggled, provoking on the other a soft pink blush. Mark was quick to lace their arms together, as he guided the dutch to the McLaren drivers, that were rambling over their ice creams some meters above them.  

Max was still mad about his DNF in Belgium. He was demolished, not even the previous win in Germany was enough to make up for it. It was his duty after all, and every time he didn’t stand in the highest podium he was neglecting said duty. 

In Italy, he finished eighth. Mark made it to podium, third place. Max wanted to hug him and congratulate his job as much as the other always did. He even ignored his dad calling him out about today just to rush over Mark. They hugged, and it felt great, it compensated all the insults and daggers Jos throw at him later.

“You’re coming to the party, right?” Mark big chocolate eyes were begging him, with a puppy gesture. He was ignoring all the congratulations, all the pats in his shoulder, everything, just for Max. 

“Of course” He giggled, “Can’t miss your party”

Damn, maybe he should have missed the party. Max was blinded by the flashing lights and the stupidly loud music. Mark was nowhere to be seeing.

Daniel was the first person he bumped into. He was already tipsy, and offered the Dutch a shot of tequila. In a normal situation Max would have accepted it, hoping to easy his mind, but right now certain brunette who happened to be his teammate was the only thing occupying his mind, and the last he wanted was to kill that thought.

“Have you seen Mark?” His voice was came out a bit loud, hopping the Australian would hear him in between the nose. A subtle shade of red was covering his cheeks and the top of his ears.

“Markie?” Daniel screamed into him, making Max nod with discomfort. ”He was with Nando I think”

“Nando?” He furrowed his eyebrows at the mention of the Spanish man.

“No, wait. Not Nando, Lando!” Maybe Daniel had drink more than he thought in the first place. “I meant Lando! Yeah!” He screamed with a wide smile. Max gave the man a shy thanks, before starting his search for the other.

Mark was dancing with the other pilot, but soon left him when his eyes meet Max’s. Approaching him.

“You’re actually here” Max couldn’t bring himself to answer, too stunned by the way Mark’s big brown eyes seemed to shine. The man was truly beautiful.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” Max leaned into the other’s neck, almost brushing the freckles that adorned said skin with his lips. Mark shakes over the heat of Max breath hitting over him, gently rubbing the blond’s waist with his hand. He nodded, giving Lando a final look the dutch wasn’t able to describe. “It’s a great party” he said when they made it to the alley, his teammate’s hand was still in his waist, and Max was not going to be one to complain.

“You did well today. I’m not sure if I told you” Max got shy, again, when Mark mumbled his reassuring words. At this point Max found relieve in them, he no longer wanted to scream at him or punch him for them. Max had slowly come to terms with himself.

“I should be the one congratulating you” Max found himself leaning closer to the man, and the heat he emanated. “You did great Mark” His cocky grin expands at the dutch’s words.

“Thank you” Mark had his eyes glued at Max’s as they leaned closer. “Do I get a prize?” His other hand found the blond’s bareback as he still caressed his waist.

“For a third place?” Max mirrored the brunettes cocky gesture. They were centimetres apart, their breathings mixing in a heated sigh, battling to keep their hands for themselves.

“I did great, didn’t I?” Max leaned closer until there was no space left. He was kissing Mark, he was kissing the pink lips his found himself watching so often. Finally.

Mark pressed Max body against his, leaving no space between their bodies either. Right when the heat was emerging between them, Mark cracked a laugh, founding a confused pair of eyes locked at him. “That was great, like actually great”

[stardewstardropthoughts]

SDV Bachelors guilty pleasures/kinks/fetishes in the bedroom? 🫦🥵💖💫

MDNI these aren’t the longest but I hope you like them! I had fun writing them lol

Harvey:

Listen, I’m not saying explicitly that he wants to play doctor in that light but I’m not denying it either

Obviously he keeps his work very professional but in his downtime for play? Naughty man

Also big on erotic massages both giving and receiving

Has so many different scented oils for any occasion or mood

Also likes to cum inside you, but understands if you don’t want that do to risk of pregnancy or other issues

But like if your afab he’s definitely got a little bit of a lactation fetish I think, mostly just how big and heavy your breasts get

But also very into cock and ball worship, giving and receivin

Sam:

This man is a sub leaning switch, loves to have his partner take control

Will wear a collar if you ask him too, please ask him too he’s to shy to bring it up himself

Likes to be cuffed and overstimulated

Major praise kink, please tell him he’s your good boy

Loves seeing you in lingerie, lace is his favourite texture to feel against his bare thighs well you bounce on his cock

Pull his hair, gently though. Nothing to rough for him

Elliott:

Wax play is an absolute yes for this man

Along with food play, whipped cream and chocolate sauce? Yes please

Big on giving you praise and telling you how well you take him

Loves to leave little hickeys on your neck and chest

Also loves to hold hands while making love

Big into cock warming, tried it once when you were needy while he was writing and has never looked back, one of his favourite intimate activities

Also loves make out sessions, just lazy mornings in bed with you, tangled in each others arms, hands wondering each others body’s while your mouths mould together

Sebastian:

Hear me out here okay?

He’s a soft dom, likes to be in control but doesn’t want to inflict much pain

Has a knife kink but has one of those prop knifes that’s really dull so that he doesn’t actually risk cutting you

Will overstimulate you to the point of tears because he loves to see them running down your pretty face

Loves to praise you on how well your doing and how your being such a good boy/girl/pet for him

Low key has a daddy kink I think

Also has handcuffs and leather restraints for you

Shane:

This man is absolutely a dom and I cannot be convinced otherwise

Big sir kink, loves to be in a position of authority over you

Wants you to wear a collar, it’s more of a subtle necklace with a lock on the back that he holds the key to

Loves marking you up, bites, hickeys, bruises. He absolutely wants to see the aftermath of a session on you

Loves seeing you in lingerie for him, specially anything light blue

Loves to praise and degrade you equally

Has safe words in place and if your mouth is too full to speak you are to tap his thigh three times for stop, twice for slow down and once for all good when he checks in on you

Spanking is his favourite punishment

Overstimulation is a very close second, wants your brain to be mush by the time he’s done with you

Alex:

Look, I know this might disappoint some but I personally think he’s pretty vanilla, which is totally fine!

Will rail you on his gym bench though

Also loves the way you look in workout gear

Loves to praise you and also likes being told how well he’s doing and how good he makes you feel

Will venture into erotic massages because they’re both good for you and killer stimulation

Loves when you swallow after going down on him, almost immediately back at half mast when you show him you’ve swallowed the whole load