#but that WAS surprising enough that the media was talking about it for WEEKS

[varjopeura]

.

[alex51324]

Useful article from CNN on election-night misinformation.

Key takeaway is that pretty much whatever happens, Trump will claim it's evidence that the election is being rigged against him.

Some additional things to keep in mind--particularly if you haven't been through many of these before:

The winner may or may not be projected on election night. How long it takes depends on a bunch of factors, having to do with the logistics of ballot-counting and how the statistical analysis comes along. Getting a projected winner by midnight and the count taking several days are both well within the range of normal, and neither one suggests that anything nefarious is happening.

Counting of votes always continues for several days after the election, until every vote has been counted. This happens regardless of whether or not the media have "called" a winner, or a candidate has conceded.

Media outlets project election winners based on the data that has come in and their statistical models--they do not "declare" or "decide" who won. The major outlets are very motivated to avoid an incorrect projection*, so if they make a call, it's because they're really sure they have enough information to accurately predict the outcome of the final count.

Usually, when this happens, all of the major media outlets are making the same projection around the same time--within the same hour, at least, and often in the same 10 minutes or so. If there's an outlier, there's a good chance they're either guessing or propagandizing.

Candidates do not get to call the race in their own favor. There's a decent chance Trump will try, but also it's also normal and expected for both campaigns to talk like they're expecting to win; e.g. introducing their candidate as "the next President of the United States" when appearing before supporters at events. (My guess is that if he does try, the mainstream media outlets will simply sanewash it as typical election-night bravado, which is actually fine.)

The only thing that means anything, coming from a candidate/campaign, is a concession. This will often happen after the media has called the race for the other candidate; it usually isn't a surprise. A normal campaign will often go quiet--stop sending people to talk on TV, etc.--when they're getting ready to concede. (Trump arguably** still hasn't conceded 2020, so no one is particularly expecting him to concede any time this coming week.)

It's normal for the numbers to change a lot. There are always some surprises, but there are also standard patterns: results from the southeast usually come in a clump, and put a lot of electoral votes into the Republican column, early in the night. Democrats usually pick up the west coast states, which of course are the last to close their polls and start reporting results***. For the swing states, where we'll probably see a lot of reporting on very incomplete vote totals, results will start coming in first from the rural areas, which lean red; cities take longer to count their votes--because there are more of them--and lean blue.

The more uncertainty there is about the outcome, the more you'll hear about the evolving numbers--news networks have airtime to fill, and there's only so many ways you can say, "Still too close to call." Try not to obsess over these numbers; the news networks have people specially trained to analyze this exact kind of data, and if they can't say how it's going to turn out, you're not going to know, either.

If it ends up being too close to call for several days, there will probably be reporting on small, county-by-county vote dumps. It's important to realize that this is all still the original count of the votes, not a recount or "finding new votes." We only hear about it when the election is so close that these relatively small numbers of ballots are likely to affect the outcome, but it happens every single election. In 2020, Trump repeatedly claimed that ongoing counts were some how irregular, and sometimes demanded that counts be stopped when the current total showed him in the lead. This is, to be clear, nuts; the full & complete count of the votes always takes more than just the one day, and it's a bedrock principle of democracy that every valid ballot is counted.

(* Back in 2000, the Bush-Gore election with the whole Florida debacle, several major news outlets did project winners too soon, and then had to walk back their projections.

This definitely contributed to the chaos that night, and may have also contributed to the widespread perception that Bush was the "real" winner and Gore was dragging the country through multiple recounts, in those first few days when the initial count of wasn't even complete in some states.

As a result, responsible media outlets are much more cautious these days about election-night projections.)

(**On January 7, 2021 he made a statement that was taken as indicating his understanding that Biden had won, or at least that he knew he wouldn't be staying in office, but he never stopped saying he won.)

(***This often looks like the Republican being miles ahead, and then suddenly California reports in and they aren't anymore. Expect Trump to pretend that this is somehow shocking, even though the last time a Republican won California was 1988.

Similarly, he will also pretend to be surprised when, for instance, Philadelphia turns in their first big batch of results, and Harris's numbers jump up.)

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal 3

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, prisoner!Sukuna, modern au, no curse au, dead dove, vivid descriptions of violence including murder, dark romance trope, read at your own discretion, brief mention of smut at the very end.

Synopsis: Sukuna is in prison because of you. He’s ordered to undergo weekly counseling sessions. Talking to his counselor about you, it's apparent that his obsession with you is quite concerning.

An: Updates with this story are slow because I really care about it, and I want to do it justice.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three.

Each session with Sukuna left the counselor wanting more. He had to give to the prisoner: he was a phenomenal story teller. Sukuna was generally antisocial. He only conversed with others if he felt like he would gain something out of the conversation, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t incredibly charismatic.

Anyone with eyes could tell that Sukuna knew how to work a room to his advantage. Hell, his trial was basically an event for all of his fangirls. He had been turned into an idol by the press.

Unhealthy, sick individuals praised his actions. They edited his mugshots to look all cutesy. It felt like every chronically online young woman wanted to be you in this situation.

People tried finding out your true identity, but your name had been scrubbed from the media completely. Your name was a privilege to know. The counselor merely knew it because he had looked through the warrants and made copies of them before they were sealed away.

The counselor had been busy since his last session with Sukuna. He couldn’t get enough of Sukuna’s story. He went digging, trying to find you or anyone else from Sukuna’s past.

That was when he found out about Jin, Sukuna’s missing twin brother.

Immediately, the counselor had a gut feeling that Sukuna was to blame for this. He wasn’t stereotyping the prisoner, but if anyone went missing or dropped dead around Sukuna… he was usually the one to blame.

So when Sukuna came trudging back into the counselor’s office, shackles and cuffs jingling with each step, the counselor took note of Sukuna’s bloodied knuckles. It seems as if the prisoner had been busy this week too.

“What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?” The counselor asked, promptly skipping all greetings and pleasantries. He and Sukuna were the type of men who loathed small talk anyways.

Sukuna plopped down on the couch, and he let out a hearty laugh from the counselor’s concerns. “Trouble seems to find me, doc.” He answered noncommittally, shrugging his shoulders in nonchalance.

“How so?” The counselor pressed lightly. After his first couple sessions with Sukuna, he had gotten a grasp as to just when to press on and when to back off.

Sukuna eyed his cuffed hands, looking at the dried up blood and scabbed over wounds on his knuckles. “You know newbies always come in looking for something to prove.”

That… made sense. Sukuna was a big man. In fact, he was the biggest man in his pod. The newbie inmates were always looking to fight the biggest fish in the pond to prove something. It never worked in their favor. Usually, they just became the big guy’s bitch.

“I’m surprised they don’t have you in solitary confinement then.” The counselor commented, relaxing in his chair. What an odd thing to do… relax in the face of a heinous criminal. This line of work had definitely jaded the counselor.

“Got out this morning.” He grumbled lowly, not caring to continue on with this conversation any longer. He came to these sessions to relive his memories of you, not to talk about stupid shit like the newbies in the jail.

“Lucky you.” The counselor commented as he flipped through a stack of papers. “Tell me about your brother, Sukuna.”

The pink-haired male immediately gritted his teeth together so hard that it was a wonder how he didn’t shatter them. His muscles tensed, and he eyed the counselor closely, trying to decide whether the counselor had gone mad or not.

“Considering you’re asking me, I assume you already know all about him.” Sukuna answered lowly. His dark gaze was unwavering.

“I only know that his name is Jin, and he’s missing.” The counselor responded. He kept his body language open, so Sukuna would know the he’s telling the truth.

“That’s all you need to know.”

“So, Jin never met mouse?” The counselor gently pressed.

Sukuna’s breath went eerily still as his teeth ground together. His lips twitched into a snarl. If looks could kill like Sukuna did, the counselor would be dead by now. “He did.” He answered shortly, suddenly not such a good story teller.

“You don’t seem like you were very fond of him. Why not?” The counselor asked carefully. He knew if he brought you up again, Sukuna would probably snap… then snap his neck in half, and he valued his neck remaining intact.

“Jin wasn’t the star pupil everyone made him out to be. Only I knew his true nature.” Sukuna replied. He was still tense, but he at least wasn’t on the verge of catching another murder charge. It’s not like it mattered anyways. What’s one more charge? He’s serving life already.

“Everyone treated him like a star pupil?” The counselor asked, clicking his pen to start taking case notes. He was finally getting somewhere this session. Sukuna’s sessions were way too short already. The jail was too afraid of him having too much time to hurt somebody, so he was only allowed to have 20-minute sessions before he was escorted straight back to his pod.

“Tch. Everyone fucking adored him, never spoke an ill word ‘bout him.” Sukuna explained. “Our parents didn’t know they were having twins until after he was born, and I was coming out shortly after. He was the firstborn — the one they were expecting, the one that they cared about. I was just a surprise mistake compared to Jin. They had to scramble to make ends meet.”

The counselor stayed silent for a moment. It was apparent Sukuna likely lacked any parental love or guidance. His parents probably saw him as a burden. That would fuck anyone up in the head.

“Jin was their son. I was the reason for their financial struggles and stress. It didn’t help that Jin apparently came out malnourished as fuck, while I was a healthy baby. I apparently hogged all of the nutrients. It was a wonder why I didn’t just absorb him in the womb. Compared to Jin, my parents thought I was a soul-sucking leech.” Sukuna spoke with very little emotion in his voice. He wasn’t sad or even scorned. It simply just was something he dealt with.

“Did that bother you… seeing Jin receive love from your parents?” The counselor asked, attempting to gain some insight to Sukuna’s feelings on everything.

“Fuck no. I couldn’t care less. It was honestly a blessing that our parents paid me no mind. It made it easier to do whatever the hell I wanted without being bothered.” Sukuna answered confidently. His amused expression slowly coming back to him.

“That four-eyed freak could have our parents’ affection. I only gave a damn about mouse.” He added, picking some lint off of his jumpsuit.

“So, how did Jin meeting mouse lead to him going missing?” The counselor pressed, giving Sukuna a look. He knew this scenario all too well. Sukuna didn’t take well to sharing you, and if Jin got too close to you, well…

“You’re not as stupid as you seem, doc.” Sukuna said with a reserved grin. He leaned his head back against the couch, revealing his sculpted jaw along with his adam’s apple. Sukuna’s neck tattoo was playing peek-a-boo from his jumpsuit.

“Thanks?” The counselor asked with a hesitant scoff, causing Sukuna to grin more.

“You’re skipping a few chapters though.” Sukuna added as he finally found his reprieve in living out his memories with you. “When she was 16, mouse finally opened up to the idea of being mine. It only took a few instances to make her realize she wasn’t getting rid of me, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to find another who cherishes her like I do.”

The counselor knew Sukuna was leaving out key details with his “instances” like… the time he strangled a guy within an inch of his life for asking you out on a date, or the time that he tied down another guy to his motorcycle and drug him down a gravel road for giving you a very romantic valentine’s day gift, OR the time he nearly shoved a tattoo gun into his artist’s eye for hitting on you right in front of him.

“So, you two became official when she was 16?” The counselor prompted as he jotted more notes down on his notepad.

“Nope.” Sukuna replied with a toothy grin to the counselor’s surprise. “We made an oath to each other. Exclusivity. She nor I could see anyone else.” The prisoner explained, only confusing the counselor even more.

“So, you two were committed to each other, but you weren’t… romantically involved?” The counselor asked with furrowed eyebrows. It made no sense for Sukuna’s m.o. Sukuna loved through possession, owning someone. He also didn’t like sharing. There was no reason for him not to make you commit to him romantically.

“Mouse is.. a bit younger than I am by nearly two years. She was 16, and I was about to turn 18 soon. Her birthday fell in that weird timing for school, and I was held back in first grade. That’s how we ended up in the same class.” Sukuna explained, but it still made no sense in the counselor’s mind. “I knew if I made her mine when she was 16, I wouldn’t have wanted to hold back. So, in my oath, I promised to take her and give her all of me when she was 18.”

Now, that made sense.

In Sukuna’s twisted logic and severely skewed morals, he thought he was protecting you by making you wait until you were 18 to finally be official with him.

“That must’ve been hard to wait that long for her.” The counselor commented, unsure of what to say.

Sukuna shot him a warning glare. “I’d wait a century for her.” He responded in a low growl. It was a clear indication to not make anymore comments regarding you in that manner.

The counselor back-tracked, not wanting to lose Sukuna’s feeble trust. “So, what does this have anything to do with Jin?”

Sukuna relaxed with a low huff, and he sat back in his seat as he went back to telling his story. “Jin got whatever the fuck he wanted: money, girls, popularity, and he didn’t like someone having anything he didn’t.” He explained to the counselor.

“Mouse had just recently turned 18. It was our senior prom night, and I had plans to show her exactly how patient and disciplined I had been for two years.”

“You don’t seem like the type to go to prom.” The counselor commented in an amused tone.

“I only went because mouse wanted to go. She wanted one last opportunity at being a normal teenager… whatever that meant.” Sukuna explained. His expression seemed to falter to more of a thoughtful one. The counselor began to wonder if Sukuna ever regretted subjecting you to his depraved nature.

“Jin was, of course, elected prom king. He wouldn’t have accepted less, and some bitches thought it’d be funny to rig the ballot to have mouse win. They wanted to publicly humiliate her while she was on stage, knowing she still struggled talking publicly.” Sukuna went on, and slowly, the pieces started to fit together.

“I was going to create a scene, take the heat away from her, but Jin decided to take manners into his own hands and thank everyone on her behalf… as if he fucking knew her well enough to do that.”

“I was going to try to hold it in. It was just one dance with Jin. Then, I could take her home and claim her. I just had to watch one dance, but Jin knew this would be the only fucking time he had the upper hand on me. It wasn’t enough that he had our parents under his thumb. He wanted the one fucking thing that was mine and mine alone.”

A shiver went up the counselor’s back as he watched Sukuna closely. The prisoner was seething, clenching his cuffed hands together so hard that his knuckles were popping in agony. His jaw was clamped shut as he remembered what it was like to see Jin dance with you.

The counselor had seen Sukuna mad, but this was pure rage.

“What did he do, Sukuna..?” The counselor asked shakily as the air in the room was so tense. The counselor knew that their twenty minutes were coming to an end, but he hoped to god the guards got distracted so Sukuna could finish his story.

Sukuna’s breath was ragged as he recalled the memory. “His hand kept fuckin’ wandering to places it didn’t belong. I couldn’t hear him talkin’ in her ear, but I could read his lips. He was talking about some fucking after party, and he was trying to convince her to ditch his “degenerate freak little brother”. He said he’d show her a good time.”

“I was going to let it slide for the sake of not wanting to ruin mouse’s last night in high school. One fucking dance. I knew mouse wasn’t going to agree to any of that, not after we had promised ourselves to each other, but the fucker was persistent. He grabbed her arm and tried to lead her back to where his table of fucking losers were sat. She tried to pull away, but he knew he was stronger than her.” Sukuna shook his head, picking at the scabs on his knuckles to make himself bleed. It was almost a release from the pure anger he felt as he remembered that night.

“What did you do to him, Sukuna?” The counselor quietly prompted.

Sukuna’s eyes met his, and he bit the side of his cheek for a moment as if he was deciding whether he wanted to admit to yet another crime. He knew he was protected under patient confidentiality, but he had never admitted to Jin’s disappearance — not even to you.

“I dragged him out of the school. There was a pig farm behind the school. The electric fence was made out of metal. The fence posts were sharp on the top. We got to arguing about mouse. He kept asking why I cared about a little piece of ass when I didn’t care about anything else.” Sukuna continued picking at his scabs. His movement was almost compulsive to a degree.

“He said she deserved a normal life — not one that I could give her. He fucking… he fucking called it, said I’d either end up dead or in jail. Then, he made the fucking mistake of saying he’d be there to take good care of her while I’m gone.”

There was a beat of silence between the two. The counselor knew what was coming next, so he braced himself for Sukuna to describe the murder.

“I bashed his fucking head into the metal stake. He immediately died, impaled straight through his brain. I then fed his body to the pigs. I fabricated evidence to make it look like he left prom early to go meet up with a girl down in Shibuya. I buried his bones and teeth down in a graveyard after the groundskeeper inevitably fell asleep while he was on watch.”

The counselor had to bite back the urge to throw up his lunch. The food was crawling up his esophagus. He couldn’t even formulate the words to say in response. Sukuna was truly a monster for you. He had killed his own flesh and blood for insinuating that he could take you away from him.

That wasn’t even why he was caught. Jin was still on the missing persons list. His remains had never been recovered. His parents likely mourned Jin, and they had no idea it was their other son who killed him.

Sukuna leaned in, speaking with a feral grin. “I went back to mouse in the early hours of the morning, took a long shower, and fucked her until dawn, making sure she knew inside and out who the fuck she belongs to.”

“Ryomen! Times up! Let’s go!” The buzzer rang loudly in the counselor’s office, causing for him to flinch in his seat.

The counselor should’ve known better than to go digging around in Sukuna’s past. He got what he asked for. He knew that he would have to delve in to the murder that actually got him caught next session, and that terrified him even more.

Taglist: @catladythoughts @pinky0328 @coldluminarykoala @lemonlimecrystal-blog @san-it-is-i-guess @kunasthiast @nonamevenus @ecliipzed @jup1tersuccubus @gojodickbig @totallygyomeiswife @gremlinartstudio @tojislittleprincesss @jaybirdluvr73 @emyyy007 @b3bybunny @unofficialsapphire @thequeenofcurses @canecomplex @sukubusss @satosugu4-ever @theonlyhonoredone @eravariety @kaged-kitty @stargirl-mayaa @jinxiewritings @startwithrecords @nikki-demi @samoankpoper21 @grinnwolph @mizuwki @cisseadven @meandmyhomieshateshibuya @gradmacoco @lolololololhanma @theuclid @uma0777

[realcube]

dilf december

day seven ⭑ atsumu miya ⭑ x babysitter! reader

tw : NSFW MINORS DNI, age gap, vaginal, breeding and slight daddy kink

even since he has retired from volleyball professionally, there is still not enough hours in the day.

perhaps it was because he played for one of the most renowned teams, or because he was such an impressive setter, but even a decade after his retirement, his schedule is fully booked with press appearances, talk shows, journal interviews and even modelling contracts. not to mention the court chasing him up about alleged "tax fraud", whatever that means.

so as much as he would love to spend every waking moment with his two little angels, that simply is not possible.

although, he tries his best. since he had custody of his children this week, he somehow managed to make a clearing in his busy schedule to take care of them. however, at the very last minute, an emergency came up pertaining to the media uncovering his court cases, so he had to urgently visit his PR agency to deal with it.

hence, he needed a babysitter to look after his kids for a couple hours. thankfully, you were available.

he had got your number off of a friend of a friend. really, he was just desperately messaging people in his contacts asking for reliable babysitters, and you were the first one to reply. he didn't have time to carry out an extensive vetting process so he just promised you an extra ¥10k if you don't kidnap his children.

and though he didn't check out your profile much either, he wasn't disappointed when you showed up at his door, wearing loose joggers with a tight top. it was to his dismay that he didn't have much time to chat you up before he had to speed off to handle his business with his pr agency.

he said he'd only be a couple hours, so you were irritated — but not surprised — when he came back ten hours later. by then, night had fallen and you had tucked the kids in bed, while you sat with your arms crossed and brows furrowed on the living room couch.

you hear his keys jangle in the front door, followed by apprehensive steps into the room where you sat. "where's my little monsters?" he said in a sing-songy tone.

"in bed." you replied bluntly.

he chuckles, and stands in front of you with his arms crossed too, wearing a devilish expression, "yeah? you managed to get 'em down?"

"i did."

"huh. aren't you a miracle-worker?" he quirks a brow and pushes his tongue into his cheek, unsure of the attitude your giving him, but he perseveres, reaching into his pocket to grab his wallet and then counting his notes, "how were they?"

once he has counted a suitable amount, he hands the stack to you, and you cautiously take it, slipping it into your purse. "they were good. they didn't want to eat anything at first because they didn't want to have dinner without you, but i eventually convinced them to at least have a vegetable snack, so they ate their carrots and peas."

while you were attempting to explain his children's nutrional intake to him, atsumu's attention seemed to be fixed elsewhere. particularaly on your chest, where he could see your hardened nipples poking through the thin grey fabric of your top.

"you cold?" he inquires innocently, with a constrasting sly smirk, and you just grunt in response.

"don't worry about me. worry about your kids." you state bluntly.

a pregnant silence lingers between the two of you, for just long enough to allow you to wonder whether perhaps what you said was out of line, until he breaks it by commenting, "you're right." he snickers slightly, easing the tense atmosphere, "thanks for coming over on short notice, darlin'. yer a real life-saver, y'know."

"it's no problem. anytime." you almost immediately shrug off the previous animus in favour of a more passive approach.

he motions for you to follow him to the doorway, but just as you stand up, you can't help but note the growing buldge in his fitted black trousers. you tease, saying, "are you cold?"

"uh, no, why'd y—" before he even finishes asking the question, it is answered by following your gaze down to his erection, at which he grits his teeth together awkwardly, "right. in that case, i'm fuckin' freezin'."

regularly that comment would mean nothing to him and he'd swiftly move on, but he can tell by that desperate fucking glint in your eye that you are craving him, it's a look that speaks a thousands words. he can't quite put his finger on how it's conveyed but it's definitely there; something about you exudes lust and sexuality. so, now that he gets the impression you're reciprocating his desire, he narrows his eyes and quickly shifts the tone of the interaction by walking backwards towards to the couch, then taking a seat. he spreads his legs slightly and pats the thigh of his left leg, "wanna help an old geezer out?"

it's only when the words exit his mouth and he watches you intently, anticipating a response, when he realises how much he hopes his assumptions were correct. that he wasn't just imagining the wanton desire laced in the way you innocently bat your lashes at him, or the horny tears that engulf your lashline and makes your eyes glisten and gleam. he prays he didn't make it all up in his mind.

but your conviction as you saunter over to him and take a seat on his leg only solidifies his original notion: you need your pussy filled so bad.

his leg shakes roughly underneath you, the fabric of his trousers stimulating your needy clit through your joggers and panties. "good girl. a bit mouthy, but so well behaved." he muses, rolling the bud of your hard, clothed nipple between his index finger and thumb, causing you to mewl at his touch.

"let daddy see that pretty pussy." he whispers hoarsely into your ear, pulling the neck of your tank top down to fondle your tit, while you hastily moved to yank off your joggers and disgard them onto the floor, leaving you in only your lacey black panties.

"you always wear these, darlin'?" he questions with an amused smirk.

you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper against his cheek, "only when i know i'm gonna be babysitting for hot, single, ex-athletes." your hot, breathy moans tickle his skin as his large hand rubs wide circles around your clit.

his thick finger teases your hole, but doesn't penetrate. he wants to leave that pleasure for his cock, which he is quick to let spring free from his trousers.

it's mammoth, just like you imagined. your knees were growing weak from looking at it. you bite your bottom lip and before you have to do it yourself, atsumu uses his grip on your waist to manoeuvre you over the tip of his cock, wetting his tip by dipping it into your heat, but not all the way, causing you to groan,

"miya.. c'mon.."

his brow twiches, watching you plea so desperately for his cock already. you barely even know him that well and you're ready to take him all into your sopping cunt. he can't tell if you're a sweet girl he caught on a needy day, or a just a completely depraved slut. either way, it's his privilege and honour give you what you need.

he thrusts into you, plunging his thick cock into your tight hole; the way your walls instantly grip him has a harsh, guttural drumming in his throat, followed by a string of muttered curses. wanting to keep quiet, but equally unable to contain how satisfied he is.

"fuck.." he grumbles into your ear, pecking and nipping at it as he speaks, "haven't had pussy this good in years, baby.."

a small whine slips passed in your lips in response, as you begin to move your hips, causing you both to moan in unison. soon, you start bouncing on his length and letting him slam into your hole repeatedly, moaning and gasping each time.

he aids this process by grasping your waist and guiding you up and down on his cock, urging you to increase your pace too, until you are feverently riding him as fast as possible, with little regard for the violent way your tits jumped or the lewd moans escaping your mouth.

he watched you eagerly ride him and a smirk formed on his flushed features; his eyes were glued to you the whole time, so he could see every detail of your face when it contorts in response to him climaxing inside you, and clogging up your insides with his hot cum.

your eyes roll back into your heat head, and your shaky arms hoist over his shoulder to brace yourself. his vision is blurred slightly in the heat of the moment but for the most part, he got to see every salacious inch of that face of yours.

yoru chest rises and falls, and your neck hangs back slightly as you breath upwards. however, he captures your chin between his index finger and thumb to direct your gaze towards himself, snickering when you are forced to meet his eyes. "how's that?"

"good.." you pant.

he nods slightly in response, piercing glare not faltering from your wasted figure, "think you can give daddy another?"

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 4

In which you escape to paradise with the love of your life.

Warnings: nothing unless you hate happiness. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - Master List

Phulay Bay, Thailand July, 2025

yourpersonalinsta posted

456,938 likes liked by taylorswift, redbullracing, alexandrasaintmleux, and others. yourpersonalinsta out of office tagged: maxverstappen1 kikagomes omg where are yoooou? >>>yourpersonalinsta thailand! he planned literally everything. all i had to do was show up. user928 max is never beating best boyfie on the grid allegations now redbullracing bring us back a coconut! >>>yourpersonalinsta hahahaha think max can smuggle one out in his backpack??? >>>redbullracing if he tries hard enough, he can do anything!

"Max, where'd you go?" You call, voice echoing out over the empty terrace of the beach villa Max had booked for you two during F1's summer break.

Last year, the two of you had spent a few weeks on a boat off of the Amalfi coast with some of your friends but this year, it was just the two of you. This entire trip had been a complete surprise, Max having planned the entire thing. You had gotten a text one afternoon just a few days into the month long F1 break from Max telling you to pack a bag (heavy on the bikinis and lingerie, as personally requested by your boyfriend) and to be ready to leave the apartment in Monaco in an hour.

You had bustled about, a mix of excitement and anxiety twisting in your chest. To be quite honest, you had been looking forward to having some down time at home, just the two of you. It had only been a few months since you had permanently moved from New York to Monaco and you were far from settled, having spent most of the first half of the year traveling with Max.

The moment Max burst into your shared apartment though, all of your anxieties evaporated into thin air. He had never looked more relaxed than he had that morning, telling you he was taking you on a trip and to not ask any questions. You, of course, dutifully obeyed.

Which was how you found yourself at one of the most private and romantic beach resorts in Thailand, currently looking for your seemingly missing boyfriend. You'd been here for a few days now, soaking in the sand and sun and quiet peacefulness the resort had to offer. Mornings were spent slowly in bed, breakfast often skipped in favor of time spent underneath (or on top of) Max. Afternoons scuttled by slowly, spent under the sun on the beach in your bikini being oogled by Max. And nights were spent together, either in the media room of the villa watching movies or under the stars talking about anything and everything with the man that had completely stolen your heart.

It was in those quiet moments, while you sat snuggled up between Max's legs, back pressed firmly into his chest, on the beach where you were in awe of how much your life had changed in a little over a year. How quickly Max had swooped into you life, into your heart, and never left.

The villa is quiet and empty, you assume that Max has wandered down onto the beach or out near the private pool while you had taken a quick shower before your dinner reservations. Something on the bed catches your eye though and you cross the wooden planked floor to read the note that sits on top of a white linen dress.

My love, I know we had reservations at the resort's resturant tonight but I took the liberty of moving that to some place a little quieter. Put on the dress and meet me out on that little bluff where we always watch the sunset, dinner is waiting. all of the love my soul possesses, Max

Tears prick at your eyes when you finish the note. Laying on the bed is a white linen dress that you had no idea was even in the villa. It's brand new, you'd never even seen it before. The moment you pull it on over your head, you can't help but be impressed. It fits like a dream and when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but smile. The dress is cut perfectly to your figure, the neckline scooping down low to show off an extra bit of clevege and the hem hitting just below your knee. You're not quite sure how Max did it, but the dress fits you like a glove.

Your hair is still a bit damp, but you're eager to find where Max is and what he's up to tonight so you opt for a long braid down your back.

When you step out on the back veranda of the villa, the sun is hanging low in the sky, just above the sparkling blue water that stretches out in front of you. The resort sits on a little bluff overlooking the ocean, romantically tucked into the side of rolling green hills and a lush forest behind you.

Just beyond the edge of the villa's back yard is a little outcropping of land that juts over the beach below. Every night since you had arrived, Max had insisted on making a point to sit on this little private bluff and watch the sun go down. No matter what you were doing or what you had planned that evening, watching the sunset tucked deeply in Max's arms, became a tradition you wanted to continue forever.

The cool grass tickles your bare feet as you cross the lush green lawn. For a moment, you don't even look towards where you know Max is standing because you're so distracted by the crash of the ocean waves and glimmer of the sunset on the water. When you do look over though, you stop in your tracks, pupils blowing wide at the scene before you.

There, right on your little plot of paradise, stands your boyfriend. He's surrounded by what looks like hundreds and hundreds of white hydrangeas arranged in a large circle. Clusters of candles dot the edge of the circle casting a soft glow over the entire scene.

Max stands in the middle of all of this, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He's wearing the navy linen shirt you bought him for his birthday last year, top few buttons undone at his throat. The breeze off the water tugs a bit at his hair, long from a busy season with little time to stop and get a haircut. The fact that you liked his hair longer also had a lot to do with him refusing to cut it lately, but he'd never admit that to anyone but you.

When Max sees you walk out of the villa for the firs time, he thinks he might just pass out right there. The dress Kika and Alexandra had helped him pick out was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen you wear, besides that navy and red lacy lingerie set you had worn for his birthday last year, of course. He had been planning this for months now, much to Daniel and Lando's surprise. His two friends were the only other people who knew what this entire trip was really about. They had expressed their surprise at the plans since you hadn't even celebrated your one year anniversary when he had set all of this in motion. Max had simply replied with 'when you know you know' and no one had questioned it again.

The red and gold ring box sits heavy in his pocket, his fingers tracing anxious patterns over it's smooth surface. He wasn't nervous about what he was going to do. No, what he was about to do was the most confident and self assured decisions he had ever made. What he was nervous about was you saying no. He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to take a rejection.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach Max. Unsure but confident about what's about to happen all at the same time. The conflicting emotions whirl around in your stomach in a hurricane of anxiety and shock.

"Hi baby." Max murmurs as soon as you step into the circle with him. His arms reach for you and to his great relief, you melt into him eagerly.

"Hi." Your voice nothing but breathy whisper. A smile that could power most of Europe shimmers across your face. "What's all this?"

"I know I said we were going to eat dinner out here, but I wanted to talk to you first." Max buries his head in your hair, inhaling the sweet and spicy scent of your shampoo, still lingering in your hair after your shower.

He takes a few moments and you are simply content to enjoy the feeling that settles over you. Outside of this little bluff, nothing else exists and you could stay here for the rest of your life and be completely content.

When Max pulls himself together, he pulls back a little so he can see you without craning his neck. "The moment you smiled at me the first time, my entire world shifted beneath my feet." His voice is rough, Dutch accent becoming more prominent the more emotional he gets. "The first time I kissed you in my drivers room in Miami, I knew I was done. I have never met a kinder, more ambitious, or more confident woman than you. Just being able to exist in your orbit has been the blessing I never knew I needed. I know it hasn't been long but I can't figure out how I ever managed to exist before you and I never want to find out what it feels like to exist after you."

Max pauses then, drawing in a shaky breath. Blood rushes past your ears as your knees threaten to buckle. You had hoped this day would come for you and Max but you had never expected it to be so quickly. Like Max, you had known pretty fast that he was it for you. You had tried to fight the growing feeling that your relationship could work its way into marriage but as you continued to settle further into life with him, you fought the feeling less and less.

He sinks to his knee then and looks up at you, those ice blue eyes that you dream about shining up at you. "I want to see you walk down the aisle towards me in a white dress. I want to see your belly grow when you carry our babies. I want to hear my children call you their mama and I want your babies to call me daddy. I want all of this and an entire lifetime of love with you and only you. Will you give me that, baby? Will you marry me?"

For a moment you're completely unable to breathe. The words Max said to you etched themselves onto your bones, words you'd never forget until your dying day. They were words that were to be written down. Words that your grandchildren would cry over one day when they stumbled upon your old journals in the attic.

Those kinds of things, those words, deserved to live in the universe alone for a bit, they're so powerful. You gave them space and respect, allowing what Max had said to you wash over your body.

"Oh my God. Of course. Yes. Please." You babble, really unable to make your mouth move in the way you want it. All you know is that you had never been so certain about anything in your entire existence.

Max slips the massive rock onto your finger before standing up to his full height. The diamond that winks up at you in dim candlelight is something that could be compared to the iceberg that sunk the titanic. Once the ring is secured on your hand, tonight's second perfect fit, Max catches your chin in his fingers to tip your head up towards him. When he kisses you, lips meeting yours so achingly tender, the entire world goes quiet. Everyone who could have possibly existed simply vanishes.

You stay like that for several moments, caught up in your boyfri- no, not boyfriend, fiance's arms and simply kiss him with every ounce of love you can wring out of your soul. His tongue licks into your mouth, eliciting a kitten like mewl of pleasure from the back of your throat. It's a sweet and tender kiss, soft and celebratory after what's just occurred.

"I love you." You say against his lips when you need a moment to breathe.

"I love you too. More than life, lifeje." Max's hand comes up to frame the side of your face, rubbing his thumb across your swollen bottom lip.

All you can do is stare up at him, pupils blown wide open. "How long have you been planning this? I can't believe you did all this...for me? Just for me?" For someone who has often gone unseen in their own family, being doted on like Max does is sometimes confusing.

"Months. I've had help. Danny and Lando helped decide where and how to do this." You can't help but chuckle at the thought of Daniel and Lando, two of Max's most unserious and unmarried friends, helping him plan a proposal.

"Alexandra and Kika too. They helped with the dress."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Those two bitches knew and didn't tell me!"

Max tilts his head back and laughs heartily. The sound sends a zing down your spine. "No, although I suspect they might have figured it out. I just told them I was taking you on a surprise date and needed help with an outfit."

"And of course I did all of this for you." Max continues, face turning serious. "I did this all for you because I wanted you to know how important you are to me. How much I need you in my life. You're my everything, baby."

Emotion clogs your throat as you fight to keep the tears from falling. "I can't wait to be your wife, Maxie."

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,293,938 likes liked by kikagomes, yourdad, danielricciardo, and others. yourpersonalinsta girlfriend < fiancé 💍 kikagomes ahhhhhhh congratulations pretty girl!!! you are going to make the most beautiful bride. WAIT OMG, is this why Max had Alex and I help buy that dress????? >>>yourpersonalinsta yes 🤭 love you kiks >>>user928 i'm sorry but am i reading this right? max had alex and kika help buy the dress that he had her wear to her own engagement. idk if i'll ever recover from this. user02938 MOM AND DAD ARE GETTING MARRIED landonorris glad he finally did it so i can stop hearing about how excited he is. >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too, lando >>>landonorris ❤️ maxverstappen1 can't wait to start calling you mrs. verstappen >>>user0283 i cannot be normal about this >>>user0029 i have no one to send this too redbullracing our favorite couple together forever!!! congrats you two (liked by author and maxverstappen1)

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley

[hannieehaee]

Please i just want to read a smut about having a rough sex with hoshi because he's jealous when he heard his gf got confessed by her male friend. 👉👈 (It would be nice if he won't stop even if you cry in pain, saying that it's a punishment) (Just skip this if you're uncomfortable..)

18+ / mdi

content: jealous!soonyoung, smut, established relationship, he acts a little toxic but not that much, rough sex but completely consensual, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1807

a/n: thank u for the request!!

masterlist

"babe, can i borrow your phone? i left mine in my gym bag and i'm too lazy to go get it," soonyoung mumbled as he laid down on your lap, hair being played with and thoroughly comfortable.

"yeah, here," you handed it to him without much thought.

neither of you had a tendency to go through each other's phones, but you had exchanged passwords and were very casual about picking up the other's phones whenever you felt like it. there was too much trust between you to really overthink these things. which wad why you had no issue giving him your phone while he didn't have his own at hand.

soonyoung laid there for a while, perusing instagram and other social medias while you read an ebook, holding it with one hand while playing with his hair with the other. you didn't pay much mind to him while you entertained yourself with your story, and the same could be said about him.

the calm silence accompanied by some show playing in the background was interrupted mere minutes later by a characteristically loud gasp from soonyoung.

"babe, who the hell is this loser?", he asked, rushing to sit up beside you and showing you your phone.

"hm? who?" you barely looked up from your book as he pressed to your side.

"some loser. cooper," he huffed.

on screen was a conversation he'd seemingly pulled up, with the name 'cooper coworker' displayed at the top. it took a few seconds for it to dawn on you what you were looking at.

"oh. that's just my coworker. why? what'd he say?", you didn't care too much about the conversation, but you were slightly curious as to why soonyoung had pulled it up. it wasn't really like him to check your messages.

"the notification just popped up so i went on it, sorry," he was sheepish about it before fully handing you the phone, letting you take a look at the conversation in question, "but, uh, what does he mean by this?"

there were a few prior messages to the newer ones, which were all from different time stamps and very tame in nature, usually just being shift trades or confirmations about work projects. the final few were the ones soonyoung had accidentally intercepted before you could check.

from: cooper coworker

hey can we talk about what happened the other day?

the first one was tame enough, suddenly reminding you of what'd happened a few weeks back, but the poor boy practically vibrating next to you made you opt to keep reading before clarifying the situation to him.

from: cooper coworker

i just wanted to see if you'd reconsider. i'd really like to take you out

i felt like you were just dismissing me with the whole boyfriend thing. i asked belinda and she said she's never seen you with any guy

anyways my offer for dinner's still up if you wanna

it amused you for the most part. the original interaction had been so tame and forgettable you'd completely disregarded the whole thing as soon as it happened.

cooper wasnt someone you saw on a daily basis, so his name hadnt registered when soonyoung had told you who the message was from. when he came up to you to ask if you'd like to have dinner, you were slightly surprised, not entirely sure of who he was. the easiest thing to say in response was that you had a boyfriend and werent interested (which was very much the truth). he had simply nodded in response and mostly taken it like a champ.

you wish you could say that his insistence surprised you, but it was a classic guy move. to act nonchalant at rejection only to come back ten times as insistent as before.

the situation made you wanna roll your eyes and just block him, but you guessed that maybe soonyoung would want an explanation sometime soon before his entire body combusted. the sight was cute, at least.

you sighed, "it's just some guy from work who asked me out, soonie. nothing too important."

that wasn't enough for him.

he whined, nudging your knee as he put the phone down, "what does he mean by 'the whole boyfriend thing'? what, do you work with this loser? who does he think he is? i'm your lockscreen, what the fuck is wrong with him? should i go talk to him? i'll do it, babe, just-"

"soonyoung! it's fine. i'll block him if it makes you feel better. i never talk to him anyways. everyone else at work knows i have a boyfriend. it's just some stupid guy. no threat whatsoever," you reassured him.

that seemed to calm him down momentarily. his breath evened and his rambling halted. he remained quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.

"that's not good enough."

"what?"

suddenly he got up, grabbing your phone in one hand and your arm with the other and leading you out of the living room. within moments you were in your room, being pushed towards your bed and losing your balance and falling onto it.

"soonyoung, what the fuck-"

throwing your phone onto the bed, he approached you, telling you to keep facing forward as he pushed you further onto the bed. undoing his sweats as he approached you. his tone had been cold and entirely void of emotion, causing your brain to go numb and follow along with his instruction. you'd been too distracted by the removal of your own sweats to hear his following instruction, causing him to harshly pull you against him to get your attention before repeating himself.

"w-what?"

"i said, text him. tell him you're not interested and block him."

that was easy enough.

you reached over to the phone he'd thrown onto the bed and opened it back up, searching for the conversation in order to draft up a message.

but before you were even able to start, a huge distraction entered you.

immediately upon penetrating you, soonyoung went at it like crazy. it was like he had zero concern for anything other than fucking his entire essence into you.

you screamed out at the sudden intrusion and continued to gasp and mewl at the consequent thrusts into your hole. your hands shook as you gripped onto the phone, elbows hurting from putting your weight on them in order to hold onto the phone.

but soonyoung didnt care. no, on the contrary, any time you'd scream out his name, he'd go even harder, fingers surely bruising your hips due to how harshly he held onto you.

"i don't see you texting him, baby," he huffed in between thrusts, "need me to dictate it to you? brain too cockdrunk to think?"

he was mocking you, but he was right. you were usually nicely moist for him, but the moment he threw you onto the bed, it was like your mind was taken over by a docile and horny version of yourself, making you lose any ability to think for yourself by every passing moment.

unable to respond properly, you nodded, moving to try and type whatever he'd tell you to type.

"tell him to never contact you again, or else your boyfriend might get mad, okay, baby? tell him, fuck, tell him you already have the perfect guy taking care of you every night," he groaned in between thrusts, huffing and puffing at how tight you'd get for him.

you typed up the message to the best of your ability, surely getting a ton of typos in the process but not caring enough to correct them. this guy was nothing compared to soonyoung, especially not in this moment. the message in itself was slightly embarrassing to share with some random coworker, but your brain wasn't working properly at the moment.

hitting send, you thought that'd be the end of it. that now you'd be able to enjoy soonyoung's cock in peace. except that bastard replied immediately, and soonyoung managed to catch it from behind you.

suddenly, he started hammering even harder into you, genuine anger filling his veins at the response you'd received.

from: cooper coworker

lol that sounds kinda toxic. u deserve better than that guy

"'toxic'? did he just call me toxic?," he gaped between gasped breaths, "block him," he demanded, "block that fucking dumbass, i- fuck, i'm gonna-"

that's when he started going as hard as humanly possible, still letting out expletives against the coworker you'd forgotten about the moment you'd gone back home that day to your soonyoung. it hurt, but it hurt so good. it was the most pleasurable pain you'd ever felt. surely it'd lead to traces of pain after the fact, but it all felt worth it as soonyoung hammered into you with all strength available in his body.

"h-hurts, soonie, it's too much ..." you managed to sigh out, arms giving out under you and head pressing onto the mattress.

the comforter under you quickly became damp with a mixture if tears and drool, but you were too brain dead to process it.

"no, baby, this ... this, fucking shit, is to show you that you're mine. that no idiot guy can even think of, shit, fuck, of looking your way," he practically growled.

his labored breath accompanied by his broken sentences told you all you needed to know. you were about to be filled up by his load and there was nothing you wanted more. you'd never been claimed by someone in such a way and the euphoria that came with it was addictive.

with more curses and filthy expletives, soonyoung filled you up. his warmth inside you led to your own orgasm, making you completely fall onto the bed the moment he pulled out and took away his hold on you.

you didn't have any time to whine at the loss before he reappeared and began hastily cleaning you up, laying you on your back so he could kiss your cheek as he wiped at the drool and tears drying on your face.

when you opened your eyes, you found a completely different image of the soonyoung who had just defiled you to hell and back. staring back at you wad a hamster-faced cutie with some sort of worry in his eyes. his smile was sheepish and his movements way softer than usual. you couldn't left a giggle leaving your lips, which in turn caused him to relax and chuckle back.

"uh, sorry about that. just- uh, i got mad, i think ... at him! not at you! you're perfect," he rambled on in usual soonyoung fashion.

he was the cutest thing ever.

"it's okay, soonie. i'm not mad. feel free to do that again any time you want," you sat up to give him a kiss, earning a happy hum from him.

"oh, ah, yes. noted."

[tetsumie]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader

genre: comfort

content: kuroo hasn't seen you in days and makes his way to your apartment to see what's going on with you

cw: reader has a depressive episode and displays depressive symptoms

a/n: hello! i tried writing something for my pookie wookie kuroo tetsuro also lwk very self indulgent.. love u all and tysm for the endless support and as always likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! i could not be here without you all <333

"hi! this is y/n l/n! sorry i couldn’t answer your phone call. i’m a bit busy right now but leave a message and i’ll call you back the first chance i get than-" kuroo hangs up the phone for nth time today and sighs. 

kuroo hasn't heard from you for the past few days and to be completely honest, it’s like you've completely vanished off the planet. your designated seat next to him in both chemistry and english lectures have remained empty for the past week and he can’t seem to get ahold of you at all. 

at first, he didn’t really worry much about it. he didn’t want to pry on why you weren’t coming to school. he understood everyone needed their space. but when he intercepted your friends one day and asked them how you were doing and they too were unsure as well, he knew there was something severely wrong. 

on the other hand, you’ve been home all week. 

you haven’t been in the best place for the past week. you feel like your body is slowly succumbing to the stress and your body is practically giving out on you, working overtime. motivating yourself to study and to work is already difficult enough as is but doing basic things such as getting out of bed and even taking a shower feels impossible. 

you feel stuck in this never ending loop of time where the same things just keep happening over and over. you wake up at the prime hour of 12 pm and realize you’ve missed all your morning classes but then immediately head back to bed. you fall asleep and then wake up at 2 pm and stare at the ceiling above you with no particular thought in mind. eventually, you find yourself scrolling through social media on your phone but then ditch it after a few minutes because a wave of social anxiety crashes into you. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve also been skipping meals and you’re starting to catch a cold. man, you haven’t even gotten out of bed, let alone left your bedroom. you can’t even get yourself to do the bare minimum right now and making yourself an actual meal is a bit too out of your comfort zone. 

and what makes this entire situation worse is the fact that you’ve been pushing everyone away, from your friends to family to the one and only kuroo tetsuro.

there was no justification behind why you were avoiding them. you just couldn’t allow yourself to let them see you in such a lethargic condition. it hurt your pride and in general, you hated having people worry for you. it made you feel, in a sense, hopeless. 

you just wanted to shut yourself off from the world. 

the week goes by in a flash and friday evening rolls around. your phone lights up again for the nth time. you see it flash white but you roll over away, not having the energy to grab it. doing anything especially talking to other people feels exhausting.

a few minutes later, someone's banging on the door. it sounded like the fbi was at your door with a search warrant as if you were harboring drugs. you don't answer the door, not feeling like leaving the comfort and safe haven of your bed.

but the banging doesn’t seem to stop and you're getting irritated so you’re forced to get out of bed and tell the person at the door to come at another time.

to your surprise, when you open the door, you find your boyfriend, kuroo, staring at you with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“y/n, where have you been?” he begins the interrogation.

you mumble. “nowhere. been at home.”

he looks you up and down, taking in your disheveled state. your face is pale, the bags under your eyes seep deeply, giving away the countless sleepless nights you've had. your shoulders are slumped and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly, a subtle but constant frown. your hair is unkempt, reflecting the lack of energy to even try to care for yourself. an aura of exhaustion and hopelessness hangs around you, making it clear that you're struggling to find the strength to even function.

“then why haven’t you answered my calls?” he continues.

“i’ve just been preoccupied,” you lie and he catches on immediately.

no words are exchanged between the both of you for a few moments. you take his silence as your cue to end this awkward conversation and to send him on his way.

"i'm sure you have better things to do, just go-"

you're about to close the door on him until he says, "let me in."

you sigh again.

“can you come back later tetsu?” you don’t want to have him deal with you like this. he's seen more than enough of you in this condition.

his piercing gaze locks with your tired eyes and he feels his heart clench. the usual shimmer in your eyes gone and all he can see the numbness in your expression.

"no let me in," he states in a strict tone. "we have to talk."

with no choice, you open up the door entirely and kuroo takes a look at the state of your apartment. he would be lying if he wasn't caught by surprise. clothes are strewn across the couch and bowls of empty ramen are lying on the kitchen counter. your apartment is a mess.

putting his stuff down near the door, he begins to slowly pick up your clothes off the floor and tosses them into the laundry bin. seeing him make an attempt at cleaning your mess made you uncomfortable to the point your skin started to crawl.

"tetsuro, stop."

"no."

"please stop," you plead in desperation.

"y/n, i’m trying to help you!" he replies, his voice growing a little louder with irritation at your refusal.

“what if i don’t want your help?” you shoot back and his mouth closes shut. “i don’t want your help or your pity or condolences or whatever it is! just go home!”

although your mouth said one thing, your mind was trying to telepathically convey another.

please don’t leave me now. please stay.

you don’t say a word as you walk into your bedroom, closing the door behind you, hoping he'll leave on his own. the moment he hears the click of your bedroom door, kuroo begins to try to organize as much as he can in your living room. he takes out your old leftover foods and tidies up the kitchen. he starts working his way through the living room, silently sweeping the dust off the floor and reorganizing your items that were strewn on the floor.

as he’s silently working, he begins to hear sniffles and sobs coming from your room. dropping everything, he finds himself standing in front of your closed door, fist about to knock the door.

“love, can we talk?” he says out loud.

it's silence from the other end.

"y/n... please..." kuroo's voice cracks. "i just want to see you."

"door's open," your voice is muffled slightly through the door.

he opens the door and is greeted by you wrapped around in your comforter, looking away from the door. kuroo takes in the state of your room. the curtains are drawn out and there are tissues littering your night stand along with your computer lying in the corner with a pile of clothes in the corner waiting to be cleaned.

you were always so organized, what started this?

kuroo goes over to the other side of the bed and your face is huddled into your comforter. he crouches down and starts to stroke your hair with his hand.

"baby? talk to me, love. what's going on in that pretty head of yours huh?" he coos in hopes of getting you to open up.

refusing to look him in the eye, you mumble into your comforter loud enough for him to understand. "it's been getting bad again... it’s been bad all week and i'm just tired all the time."

he kisses the top of your head. "and that's okay. not everyday is supposed to be a great day. you're supposed to have good days and bad days."

you finally emerge from your cocoon and the sight he's greeted with break his heart into pieces. your face has a slight red flush tint with the remnants of your tear stains on your face. he sees how you're trying to maintain a steady face, trying your best not to fall apart in front of him.

no questions asked, he brings you into his chest and the tears you worked so hard to keep at bay come apart. you start sobbing into his chest. he strokes your back in a rhythmic up and down motion, adding the occasional kiss on the top of your head. he finds himself crawling into your bed with you on his lap as you continue to sob into his chest.

once your crying subsides a bit and your throat feels a bit sore from the crying, you look up at him and he gives that genuine small smile of his that you've grown to love so much.

"i love you, you know that right?" he reassures as your eyes meet.

your eyes shift from one eye to another and you look at him as if he hung the stars just for you.

"i know and i don't know why you love me. i don't deserve you. you deserve someone who's put together and on top of it and just perfect. hell, you could do so much better than me... i don't even know why you're still with me."

his heart cracks at the heartbreaking words, escaping your mouth. he feels so stupid. have you been feeling like this for all this time and haven't said a word to him? he should've done something.

"when we started dating, from that very moment, i knew i wanted all of you. i want everything. i want your bad days and your good days and your lazy days and your rotting in bed days. i want your good and bad. i want your highs and lows. y/n, i just want you." he kisses your cheek.

he continues to reassure you, "i want all of it. and i want to be there for you the entire time. i don't want you to have to hide yourself from me. i never wanted you to be perfect. i wanted you to be just you. that's who i fell in love with."

"i love you with all your 'imperfections' you know that right?" he does the air quotes around the word "imperfections."

"yeah but it's so hard for me to accept-," you start but he brings his pointer finger to your lips, telling you to stop your train of overthinking.

you both are enveloped in a comfortable silence with kuroo's reassuring words hanging in the air.

"i love you so much, you have no idea," you finally say, cuddled into his chest.

"oh yeah? i couldn't tell," he begins to tease. "tell me more actually."

you let out a chuckle, playfully slapping his arm, and that warm, sweet smile of his forms again on hisi lips.

"there's my gorgeous girl. oh how i've missed you."

"missed you too, tetsu."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[moriitis]

Don't talk to strangers on the internet.

Toby Rogers x Female Reader. Content/Warnings; phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, threats, graphic themes, sexual themes.

18+ MINORS DNI. NSFW/SMUT.

Word count; 4.7k

So, you met this guy. He was cute, his pictures on his social media were inviting enough and eventually the two of you got around to talking. He was.. charming of sorts, oh, and funny too! But there was one thing that always rubbed you the wrong way, how he always avoided certain questions. You'd had your fair share of friendships over the wonders of the internet, you knew a handful of people and if you were asked, you knew their age, whereabouts they came from and what their dog was called. The usual information you felt any friend was ought to know but this guy.. you weren't sure; a part of you just assuming that maybe he some sort of catfish? - Or just a very private person and hey, who were you to blame? The internet could be a weird, dangerous and pretty scary place. You'd had the phrase 'Stranger danger' drilled into your head more times than you could count. But him -

Toby.

That was all you knew of him. Well, other than he was also in his twenties and owned a crappy pick up truck. He'd met you through -

Toby: a friend of a friend….. thought u seemed cute :)

And well, he was cute to so fuck it; you gave him a chance and opened the DM he sent. His Instagram was plain as anything, with barely any followers and equally barely posts. Some crappy mirror selfie, a photo of his truck and then a picture of a cake. It all felt… well, weird and it gave your gut a weird feeling.

[Y/N]: friend of a friend? umm.. who?

Naturally, you were open to meeting new people and forming friendships, but your Instagram was pretty private and you couldn't think of which friend who would give it out without your consent.

1 Image Attached.

And it was a screenshot of your friends Instagram. It was.. better than nothing but it only opened up a lot more questions than answers. It was bad, you were single, lonely and he was cute; so fuck it you'd let it slide this once. After accepting his follow request, you allowed him further into your private life. The photos and pictures on your feed detailing every part and aspect of your life. The park you would visit, what you ate for breakfast, your Spotify wrapped, photos of your pets, it was endless but your Instagram was your safe space; so you posted a lot on there. Even after accepting him, a part of you expected him to almost immediately ask for nudes or better yet, send some unasked dick picture in your DMs. But that was where Toby surprised you, because for months he kinda just ghosted you or wouldn't message at all. You weren't going to complain, you liked not having someone spam the shit out of you.

Then, as days and weeks ticked by, you'd upload more. Admittedly, you forgot about your little DM encounter with Toby until he liked your photo. It was just a picture of your new nails, a little treat you'd like to get once the blue moon. As soon as you got the notification, your phone buzzed again and it was another DM from Toby.

Toby: hey. sorry i havent messaged in awhile. lol

You blinked, unsure on what to type back but it was too late now because you'd opened the message and he had seen that you had seen it. So you both sat in the chat, lingering, that familiar online green dot beside his profile picture as you thought on what to say. This small talk shit was… a bit boring and you hated it. So, after a moment, you typed a response.

[Y/N]: oh no dont worry its ok!

He read it in an instant.

Toby: im toby btw. srry i never like rlly introduced myself and now u probs think im some creep

A laughing emoji followed behind his sentence and you couldn't help the smile creeping across your face. You swiftly tapped your fingers against the screen as you typed back a reply.

[Y/N]: im [Y/N]. haha its ok

You cringed a little, you felt like you were being so blunt toward him; so for safety measures you sent a little smiling emoji after your own text.

The small talk flickered back and forth for a couple more months until Toby's messages became a little more consistent and as much as you hated to admit it; you were opening up to him more and more. The awkwardness of the first interaction seemed to have disappeared the more you interacted with him, yet that nagging voice in the back of your mind were persistent. Despite the time you had known each other, Toby would dodge each question you asked him.

[Y/N]: so where r u from?

Then suddenly he'd go offline. Then at other times he would respond at insane hours of the morning. Time zones, you thought. Maybe he were just across the country and he'd respond at times when you were asleep? It made sense, it was logical and yet that voice still lingered; that something was weird about this Toby user. His green flags kept you around though, or the random memes or reels he would send you that would make you laugh. Before you knew it, the months rolled into a year already of knowing him and each time he'd send you a message, there'd be a flutter of excitement in the pits of your stomach.

It was late, well, early actually. Your sleep schedule was beyond fucked and you were sleeping until noon and staying up until the early hours of the morning. Toby must've been a night owl too, because almost every time he saw you online in the early hours of the morning, he'd send a message. This time though, there was no message and he was offline, the chat between the two of you unusually quiet. Now, perhaps it was the lack of sleep and the impulsiveness that followed, but you were lingering in the chat; debating whether you should message him or not. You didn't want to bother or disturb him, especially if he were sleeping.. but you were adamant he had to be awake.

4:24 AM.

[Y/N]: r u awake

Silence, no respond and with a sigh you admitted defeat. Maybe you should just try to sleep. Then, that green bubble appeared next to his picture and you quickly tapped back into the chat.

Toby: now i am

[Y/N]: fuck im srry did i wake u up

Toby: lol nah i was joking :p

You rolled your eyes, smiling softly to yourself.

[Y/N]: wat u doin

Toby's speech bubble appeared, disappeared, appeared and then disappeared again in the chat.

1 Image Attached.

Your curiosity peaked and you raised a brow. Admittedly, you were nervous to open it because now you were convinced it was going to be a picture of his dick. This had, sadly, happened too many times and it had become a little predictable now. However, as you clicked opened the image, it was nothing but a picture of him laying on a bed. There was a tv on a dresser, it looked like he were watching some movie but honestly, your attention was elsewhere. The sheets were draped over his legs in an almost half-assed fashion. Your eyes, dare you admit it, trailed higher up the photo. His bare legs on display, one laid out straight while the other propped up with his knee in the air. It looked as if he were only in his boxers but you couldn't really tell, it was dark and the only thing illuminating the photo was the glare from the tv before him. Now, Toby was hot, you were single and you couldn't help but admit that maybe you were a little lonely and that photo opened up a lot more feelings than you anticipated to feel tonight. Swiping off the photo, you saw he was lingering in the chat and decided to message back quickly before it got weird.

[Y/N]: oh lol just watching tv. kinda boring.

You teased and Toby sent a laughing emoji.

Toby: probably better than wat u r doing… wat r u doing? huh?!

You laughed at the tone of message. With a huff, you raised your phone above you before snapping a photo. Your face, thankfully, was out of frame, but the photo allowed him to catch a glimpse of your collarbones; the rest of your chest tucked away under the thicket of your duvet. It was a teasing photo, you could admit that. He could see your jaw and jawline, a soft smile across your face.

It was also dark in your room, so you used the phone's flash to give him better access of what he was looking at. Then you sent, not wanting to give it another thought. Toby reacted to the photo with a gasped emoji but you knew he were just teasing, the motion enough to make you chuckle softly.

Toby: ur legit not even doing anything and me watching tv is boring? lol ok.

You loved how comfortable you now seemed with one another, a huge difference compared to a year ago when he first popped up in your DMs. His message made you laugh again, sending him a gif of someone poking their tongue out.

[Y/N]: u sound like a hater

Toby: me??? a hater???? LOLLLLLL sure.

Then the chat went silent a little, but he were still online; waiting, yearning even. This friendship between you and Toby was something you cherished, it flowed so well that it felt as if you guys had known each other longer than a year. With a sigh, you tapped your fingers against your screen; trying to find words to keep the conversation going. It seemed, however, that Toby thought the same thing and he had already beat you to it.

Toby: u know. ive never heard ur voice.

Those words, nothing but a simple array of pixels, was enough to make you feel another flutter of excitement. You were a little surprised by his message and you also knew that he were right. You hadn't heard his voice either and now a part of you were also equally curious.

[Y/N]: what r u implying? lol

Toby: idk. maybe i should have ur number and call u.

You raised a brow, it was smooth; trying to get your number and all that. You weren't going to hesitate, because admittedly you felt a little more comfortable with Toby than ever before.

[Y/N]: lol but its late and im tired. plus i sound like shit :p

It were true and even though everything in your very being told you that you wanted to call him, you were also a little nervous at the prospect of it.

Toby: u think i care?

He was right, why do you care? Maybe it was because there were feelings that were blossoming. Fuck, and that was bad itself as you had no idea if this guy even had a girlfriend. You didn't want to be some wrecker, or worse, the other woman. But why would you care? Is the only thought you could muster up, it's not like this phone call was going to go anywhere. You were friends, nothing else, no benefits, no strings attached; just two people who enjoy each others company. So, before you knew it you had typed your phone number away in the chat. Nothing followed after a couple minutes, making your hands clammy from sweat. God, you hated phone calls and now you were nothing but a puddle of sweaty anxiety as you waited for him to call.

Then there it was, your phone buzzing from the incoming call. It was an unknown number, naturally and you only assumed it was Toby's. Although you hesitated to answer, feeling yourself chew on the bottom of you lip. Quickly, you answered and pressed your phone to your ear. It was quiet, an awkward silence looming over the two of you.

"Hey," he spoke, his voice a lot more huskier and deeper than you imagined it to be. Immediately, you felt shy and swallowed back the lump in your throat to respond.

"Hey," you replied, your nervousness evident in your tone of voice alone. You could hear a short, brief chuckle emerge from the other end and you sat up a little, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I don't think you sound gross," he started, causing a small fluster of red to emerge on your cheeks. You were thankful this wasn't FaceTime. "I l-ll-.. like your voice." He spoke in nothing but a hushed whisper, which yeah, made sense considering it was nearly 5 AM. Toby had opened up to you about his stutters before, so hearing him struggle with some words were nothing out of the ordinary for you. You were thankful he trusted you enough to open up about it really.

You chuckled, trying your best to remain quiet. "Thanks," you started, your heart beating a million beats per second.

Then that awkward silence again and you cringed, licking your lips wet before speaking again.

"Sorry, I'm so awkward," you let you a short chuckle, running a hand through your hair as you tried to act more casual. Toby chuckled again.

"It's okay, I get it," he reassured, his voice soothing and comforting. You palmed nervously at your duvet, not even too sure what to say. There was always so much to say over text and now he had you pinned, in the spotlight a little and you were choking.

"There's a lot I want to say-" you admitted sheepishly and Toby hummed in interest.

"Then say it."

You exhaled a shaky breath, licking your lips once again. As much as he had you pinned, you also had him. There were so many questions you wanted to ask, so many things you wanted to know and now seemed as good time as any. If he were to hang up, then that would answer a lot of your suspicions. "I just feel like I barely know you."

"Then what do you w-ww-.. wanna know?" he asked, his voice gentle and welcoming and frankly it put you on edge a little. You didn't want to interrogate the man but this was the closest you had been to actually knowing more about him in the whole damned year you knew him!

"Well, I'm assuming your name isn't just Toby."

He chuckled.

"I mean, it's Toby… but I do also have a l-llast name, yeah."

You swallowed, throat becoming unbearably dry.

"Well… what is it?" You asked, your anxiety bubbling at the base of your throat as if you were about to throw up.

"Toby Rogers." You could hear him smiling as he said it and you breathed out a sigh of relief which was loud enough for him to hear. "Why'd you wanna know?" And admittedly, you weren't sure. Maybe because it just felt more.. real? Honestly, you just felt better knowing than unknowing.

"I-I-.." you couldn't explain yourself. "Honestly, I don't know-" you admitted, chuckling dryly.

Toby Rogers. Toby Rogers. That name repeated itself in the back of your mind, each time you found yourself almost recognising it more and more. It was so familiar, like you had heard it before and yet you were unsure as to where. Toby's short scoff brought you back to the conversation at hand. You could hear that same tv in the background on his end. It wasn't loud but loud enough for you to make out screaming.

"Are you watching a horror film?" you asked, snorting out a little laugh at his nerdiness. Although, you received no response, no answer. The screaming just filling the end of the phone, you felt that uneasiness creep back into your very being. Then, after a second long silence, he spoke.

"Oh- hah.. sorry, yeah, I am, didn't think you could hear it."

You forced a smile, scratching absently at the back of your neck.

"So.. what are you wearing?" Your heart fell through to your ass and you froze, wide eyed in horror at his sudden question. It was unexpected and nervously you choked out a laugh.

"Uh-" you started and before you could even muster up any courage to speak, he was laughing; which only calmed you briefly.

"Haha! Oh god, I'm joking, I'm not a weirdo-" he chuckled, laughing a lot harder than he had recently done. You rolled your eyes, shit he wanted to play games? You were up for it, but first you needed to fan yourself for a moment. His laughter faded back into that silence as you glanced down at your body. Admittedly, you just wore some old over sized shirt that had acquired many holes over the years and your underwear. Wasn't particularly lingerie, but shit, it's not like you exactly planned to actually do something with this guy?

You snickered to yourself purely because the idea of.. being so intimate with him excited with you more than you'd ever know.

"I'm wearing just some old shirt, that's-.." you choked out a laugh. "That's really too big for me.. and just-.. just my underwear." Toby was silent on the other end, not expecting you to actually straight up answer his question. He let out a short chuckle and then another, not believing what you had said but by the serious tone in your voice, he dawned on him that you were being honest.

"Oh?" he finally croaked out, feeling something stir within him. It was this flutter of excitement, that began in the lower pits of his stomach and finally travelled to his cock. Now, he knew what dangerous game he were playing and he knew that if he accepted this invitation, it could bring him a great deal of trouble. Your voice was just so.. tempting and it lured him in just to taste more of your sweet words. Toby clenched his jaw a little, he was getting so riled up at just the thought of you alone. "You don't sleep naked?" there was a teasing hint in his tone of voice and you chuckled.

"Would you rather I did?" And it was there he melted. Fuck, he'd do anything. He'd tug on some fucking pants right now just to march over to your house and fuck you relentlessly. Your words resulted in him shuddering, his breath hot and heavy down the phone. Toby knew to choose his words carefully here because ultimately he knew he were playing with fire, it's just the only issue was; he was thinking more with his dick now than with his head. Toby scoffed out chuckle once again, his voice a lot more huskier than before.

"I mean.. I would-" he started, his mind a horny, jumbled mess as he tried to conjure up the right words. "Would make it easier for me to fuck you." Speaking those words made his skin prickle, it was so wrong and in that moment it felt so right. The tension in the air was palpable, his mouth feeling increasingly dry. His cock stirred and twitched beneath the fabric of his boxers, making him shift uncomfortably in bed. God, he wasn't gonna jack off tonight but fuck it, if you were gonna, he wasn't going to let you do it alone.

And you weren't any better than he was on the other end, your own clit aching for a simple touch. It made you shift also, in some sort of desperate attempt to feel some fabric against the sensitive nerves. The touch, however, not enough as you felt yourself slipping back into the softness of your pillow. His words almost made your head spin, your breath hitching in your throat as you tried to control your thoughts; which were riddled with nothing but filth. As much as you tried to deny it, you could feel the dampness seep through the thin layer of fabric between your legs, feeling so ridiculously turned on that a part of you questioned how long it had been since you hooked up with someone.

"God-.." you breathed helplessly down the phone, your words and breathless tone already giving Toby the thumbs up that he was headed in the right direction.

It was there he laughed a little, almost in disbelief. "Wait, are you touching yourself?"

You froze a little in his reply, dumbfounded. Should you be? Your body ached for it, so why not? Quickly, you pushed a hand down between your thighs and got to rolling your index and middle finger against your clit. You gasped at the touch, legs parting a little more as you rolled your head back into pillow beneath you. The touch brought an immediate warmth to the lower of your stomach, earning a soft, delicate whimper to escape from between the plumpness of your lips.

Those noises only stirred Toby into motion himself, palming himself through his boxers with a soft grunt here and there. His eyes closed briefly, imagining all those delicate sounds to be coming from the tip of his cock. Wanting to desperately to feel your lips wrapped around his shaft.

"I like those pretty, little sounds," he spoke softly, his voice just above a whisper as he soaked in each sound that flowed through the speaker of his phone. "What are you thinking about while you touch yourself?" he grunted, biting the bottom of his lips briefly as the mental image of you in bed reaching your orgasm to the thought of his cock alone making him almost tremble and whimper himself.

Your fingers, although with a slight tremble, continued to dance against your clit. Rolling it softly in an attempt to pace yourself, but you were hungry for an orgasm and not only that; you were fucking tired. It wasn't like you wanted this to be over, it's just you weren't sure how long you could hold out for. His words fed your actions more as your whines and whimpers continued to flood helplessly through the phone. "I'm think-.." you interrupted yourself with a moan, "I'm thinking about how good you'd feel."

Those words send a shiver of delight down his spine and Toby was feeling too hungry to withdraw himself any longer. So, his hand wrapped around the length of his shaft and slowly he pumped at it. Each motion of his hand sending soft waves of pleasure to course through his bloodstream, a concealed grunt and groan which passed through his clenched teeth. He wasn't exactly a vocal person - though he had to be for the whole idea of phone sex to really work. "Ffuck-" he breathlessly moaned, his cock an aching mess with pre-cum already coating the tip of it; adding only a fraction of lubrication.

Toby's own mind was equally full of sinful thoughts, the idea of running is tongue up between your slit to suckle softly on your clit, or the idea of cumming all over that pretty face of yours. Admittedly, being a fucking murderer meant he didn't get many blissful nights of burying his cock deep in someone; so the thoughts accompanied with those sounds of yours were enough to nearly already make him cum. Stifling a moan with a lip pressed firmly against his upper teeth, he groaned a deep guttural growl.

"I need to feel you-" and a part of you cringed at how desperate you sounded, like whiny slut. Toby didn't mind, why would he? You sounded like a fucking pornstar and he knew it wouldn't be long until he was seeing stars and coating his knuckles in his warm, white liquids.

"Fuck, keep talking," he grunted as his hips bucked into his hand, almost helplessly fucking the palm of his hand. He could only imagine how fucking good your pussy would feel wrapped around him, how wet he would make you, how good he could make you feel. His command did things to you, the way he spoke through gritted teeth and there was a tightness forming not just in your lower abdomen, but in your thighs as well. For a brief moment, your fingers moved from your clit to your dripping cunt, coating your fingers to coat your clit in your wetness. You were torn, wanting to feel something inside you and wanting to give your clit attention; you'd cum either way regardless.

You began to mumble incoherent whimpers, praising him and uttering his name like sweet nothings; words dripping in poison that would intoxicate Toby more and more. Your grip on the phone began getting looser as you felt the warmth rush to your cheeks, your own hips rolling against your fingers in a desperate attempt to reach your orgasm.

"Toby- please make me cum, please-.." you cringed hearing yourself so squeezed your eyes shut. You could feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into your pillow, a rush of blood creeping across your face and almost making your head spin.

Your words were the tipping point for Toby, and with one final grunt and thrust, stringy ropes shot up and out across his knuckles. "Nng- Ffuck-" he slurred on his own words, the warmth of his own cum sending shockwaves and ripples up his abdomen.

While Toby rolled out the end of his orgasm with some slow thrusts, you hadn't yet reached that phase as you helplessly humped your own fingers, breasts bouncing with each roll out that your hips gave. You were a desperate, panting mess as you tried to quieten and muffle each moan that dared to escape from you. Despite feeling satisfied himself, he knew he couldn't be a dick and leave you hanging on the edge of your orgasm - hell, he could though. Your moans were just good to miss however and quickly his focus returned to you as he came floating back down from his own high.

"The thing's I'd do to-to-… to you-" he choked out, surpassing a tic almost painfully. "I'd love to make you scream," he uttered, his voice lusty with a hint of something else. You hadn't noticed it at the time, but there was a sense of darkness that lingered in the back of his throat. His words having more meaning than a simple mission to get you to orgasm. Your head spun as the muscles in your thighs tightened, your hips bucking violently against your fingers as you reached the height of your own release. There were stars, a soft, long drawn out groan escaping deep within you as your hips continued to buck; a little softly as you rode out the very last of your orgasm. Your fingers rolled your clit until it became nothing but a sensitive bud, sending little jolts as you gasped, feeling sweaty against the mattress of your bed. The sound was music to his hears as he listened, the phone pressed so hard against his ear that for any other person it would've hurt.

"Fuck-" you gasped softly after each pant, allowing your body the time and space to recover.

"I'd love to bash your pretty, little head in with one of my hatchets."

And you felt your once steaming hot body turn into a cold flush, your breath hitching in the back of your throat. Had he really said that? Or was it more background noise from the horror film he was watching? Toby chuckled, it's friendliness vanishing in thin air before you as his demeanour became cold; uninviting. Your brows furrowed, too speechless to form a coherent thought. Was it just.. a kink thing? Was he.. fuck, like roleplaying or something? You were grasping at any explanation before you.

"What." Was all you could muster up, a measly whisper.

"I enjoyed talking to yo-ou. I'll be honest, never done this b-bb-before with most girls, I wooould've let you live… but work is work, you'll understand. Oh," he scoffed. "No, you won't but I'll see ya around, yeah?" And Toby hung up. Leaving you in a state of confusion.

Toby Rogers. Toby Rogers. You repeated it over again, sitting up on your elbow, brows furrowing and staring out into the darkness of your room. Toby Rogers - that name was on the news just the other week, you could've sworn it. The news anchor mentioning something about.. him murdering his Dad.. being a mass criminal.. and how he was still missing after all those years.

And you just had phone sex with him.

sorry if this seems rushed, still trying to find my lingo when it comes to writing smut.

will be a bit mia for the next days, but asks are open (just may take a lil while for me to answer them.) i originally planned for this to be shorter, but i have this weird habit of where once i start writing, i legit cannot stop.

[blughxreader]

platonic yandere batfam thoughts...

how you end up integrating into the family.

I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.

Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?

Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.

Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.

It would start small.

It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.

Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.

After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.

Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.

Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.

With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.

Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.

However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.

Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.

Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.

Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.

You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.

When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.

There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.

Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.

So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.

The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.

And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.

You protect your peace. You protect the house.

this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm IV

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Alexia gets her puppies

His name was Kitchen Sink Putellas, though everyone just called him Sinky.

His name came about by accident just like him.

Alexia would say that it was fate. You could swear she had set you up for it.

It had happened on one of your night walks.

Maya was a bit of a restless baby so you had found that going out for a little walk in the early evening was good to get her to fall asleep without too many tears.

You were pushing her pram gently as Alexia chattered your ear off about getting a puppy. With the house fully completed and all three of you moved in, Alexia was adamant about getting Maya a puppy.

She seemed to forget that you already had a family pet in the form of old Mr Stinky, the extremely senior cat that you had gotten at seventeen from your parents.

At thirteen years old now, he was very slow and slept a lot but he was your little furbaby and you just adored him.

Alexia, less so but she had always been a dog person, which was why you weren't surprised when you saw she had adopted little Nala.

Even through social media, you could see just how much she adored Nala and just how heartbroken she was when Nala unexpectedly passed away.

You could still see the pain lingering in her eyes now when she spoke about getting a puppy for Maya.

Alexia had adored Nala and hadn't thrown a single thing away, still packed up in a box she thought she had hidden in the back of the closet.

You got into a relationship with Alexia knowing she was a dog person and, while she secretly loved Mr Stinky, you knew no animal would come close to being loved like how a dog would be loved.

You had already been convinced weeks ago but you weren't letting Alexia know that. You were curious to see just how far she was willing to go.

You were focused completely on Maya's sleepy face as Alexia spoke. You hadn't even noticed she stopped talking until you turned to look at her.

She was crouched on the ground, her hand offered out to a little puppy on the side of the road.

"Hi, little guy," She cooed," It's okay. I'm here to help."

The little puppy whined, taking a step forward before retreating again when Alexia reached for him.

"It's okay," She said again," Come here. Let's get you some help."

He was a tiny thing. Absolutely tiny and he shook in Alexia's arms when she finally managed to pick him up.

You reached into Maya's baby bag to pull out a spare blanket, helping Alexia to wrap him up nice and warm.

"We need to take him home, amor," Alexia said, suddenly deadly serious," I can't see his Mama anywhere. He is alone."

You glanced around the area, brows furrowed.

Alexia took that as refusal and she looked ready to get on her knees. "Amor, please! You cannot think we should leave him here!"

"Take the puppy and Maya home, Alexia," You said, whipping out your phone," He doesn't look old enough to be weaned. I'll try and find him some food. I'll meet you back at the house."

You watched Alexia gently place the blanket wrapped puppy in Maya's pram with her before sprinting down the street with the speed only a professional athlete could possess.

It was late out but you paid extra for puppy milk and wet food to be delivered in a few hours. It was a flimsy excuse to make but you just couldn't shake the thought that this puppy wasn't completely alone.

It wasn't a rural area that you lived in but there was a park that backed into a little wooded area and surely you would have noticed if the puppy had been dumped in a box.

You flicked on your phone light to wander through the park. You checked everywhere you could before you came across a little bush.

The soft barks were enough to confirm your suspicions and your heart broke at the sight.

She was panting heavily, lying on her side as a throng of puppies drank from her. A heavy stick of wood was planted firmly in the ground and a piece of rope was fixed like a noose around her neck.

She wasn't aggressive as you released her. If anything, she sagged in relief and allowed you to gently stroke her fure.

She was some kind of collie though in the low light, you couldn't quite tell what kind.

You'd had a rough collie as a child. Good old Mr Porkchop who had been put down when you were eleven.

He had always been well looked after though, the pride of your father's life. This collie was nothing like Mr Porkchop though and you dialled Alba instantly.

"Alba? Can you come to the park near our house? I'm going to need your help."

Alexia was desperately working at the kitchen sink when you came in. Her sleeves were pushed up to her shoulders as she desperately scrubbed at the little puppy, trying to get him all warm.

A ring of soap was around his neck.

Clearly, she had listened to your lecture a few weeks ago about how it prevented fleas from climbing onto the heads of animals.

"Amor!" She called out behind her after hearing the front door open," I'm just getting him washed! I put him up on the counter while I changed Maya into her pjs but he fell in! I think he's chosen his name!"

"Alexia?"

"I know it will be a lot of work," She continued," But I promise I will take great care of him. We can set him up next to one of the portable heaters tonight and I've got the day off tomorrow so I'll take him to the vet and-"

"Alexia."

"I know you said Maya is still young and I know you think keeping a puppy this little is dangerous but-"

"Alexia Putellas!"

She turned. "What is-?"

"I found his Mama and siblings," You said plainly, leading the mama in gently as Alba trailed behind you with the other puppies," I've ordered food already and we'll have to take them in to the vet tomorrow."

"Amor..."

"Now." You gently guided the mama to a pile of pillows as Alba reunited her puppies with her. "What's this about his name?"

The puppies and mama were all healthy or, at least on their way to being healthy. The mama had no collar and no microchip. The vet theorised she was part of some puppy mill because she was barely out of puppyhood herself.

You knew by Alexia's face that you would be keeping them all. The Mama, Sinky and his extra three sisters.

You were nervous about it all but Alexia really took the reigns, a far cry from the thirteen-year-old version of her that once cried when you made her leave a cute dog being walked by its owner at the park.

Maya adored the puppies as well and seemed to know to be gentle. Even Mr Stinky seemed to enjoy their presence, taking shifts when the mama was sleeping to make sure that none of the puppies got into mischief.

Mainly, you were impressed about how long it took Alexia to spill about having puppies in the house.

Four weeks since you found them and you finally allowed Alexia to take them into training.

"I'll be out with the others soon," Alexia promised as she wrapped Sinky up in a blanket.

"Ale," You said," He doesn't need the blanket anymore. He's a big boy."

"He's a baby!" Alexia insisted, wrapping him up like a baby in a swaddle.

You rolled your eyes. "Go and bring out your teammates, Ale."

She practically skipped into the locker room with her little bundle of blankets.

Mapi was the first one she noticed and paled dramatically. "No!" She declared," No, you can't be serious, Alexia! You've already got one baby! You can't have gotten another one so soon!"

"Don't be silly, Mapi!" Alexia laughed," We didn't get another baby. Now yet anyway."

"Then what is that?!"

"Sinky!"

Sinky barked happily as he was uncovered by the blankets.

Ingrid rubbed Mapi's back as she hid in her girlfriend's neck.

"Sinky?" Keira echoed," Like Sinclair from Canada?"

"Don't be silly," Alexia said," Because it's short for Kitchen Sink, which is his name."

Mapi might have burst into tears.

"But there's more!" Alexia continued," Come on, come on! I'll show you!"

She sprinted out of the room and her teammates scrambled to keep up with her.

She'd traded in her old Cupra a few weeks ago for a much more family friendly minivan and she pulled open the door.

The first and most obvious thing everyone saw was Maya, happily in her seat waving one of her stuffed toys to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star which was playing in the car.

The next was the beautiful brown and white Border Collie, Lady. You had laughed a little bit about the name Alexia had bestowed upon her, making a joke about her enjoying naming dogs after Disney characters.

Sweet Lady sat in the seat next to Maya, laying her soft head on your baby's legs.

Her three remaining puppies wrestled in the stair well and all came falling out as soon as the door was open.

"Oh no," You heart Mapi say.

Alexia smiled triumphantly. "Oh yes!"

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken pt. 2 (MV)

max verstappen x reader

pt. 1 here

I could be talked into a pt. 3 if people want it

It had been a week since the Austin GP and forgetting about what happened had been impossible mostly because Max would not leave you alone.

He didn't reach out directly, but every morning this week, you had woken up to a new gift outside your door. Flowers, chocolate, coffee, pastries, clothing, etc. You had no idea how he even knew your address.

You struggled with what to do. On one hand, you had missed your best friend for a long time. You missed the inside jokes, the comfort you found in him, and supporting one another. But on the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about how he threw it all away because he was scared of loving you. You had never been scared of loving him, even if you never said. Well maybe that was hypocritical.

Saturday morning an envelope accompanied the box outside of your door. You opened the box first, revealing a vintage RedBull racing bomber jacket that cost who knows how much. It was cute, you'd give it that. Opening the envelope you froze as you read the letter that sat next to a paddock pass for the Brazil GP.

I know you hate me and you have a good reason to but I will do anything to have you back by my side even if you refuse to look at me. Please come to Brazil, I know it's your favorite track. You can stay on Checo's side of the garage if it makes you feel better.

Love, Your Max

Brazil was your favorite track and in the past you had always travelled down early to experience the culture for a bit before the racing started.

You facetimed Carmen, hoping to talk this through with someone else.

"Hey girl, what's up?" She asked, clearly in the middle of a workout.

"Oh, I can call later if you're busy," you said and she shook her head.

"No, it's okay!"

"Max invited me to the Brazilian GP," you told her slowly and her eyes widened.

"Wow."

"I know, I don't know what to do."

Carmen was silent for a little bit, clearly thinking. "Is there any part of you that wants to make up with him?"

"Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I hate myself for even thinking that. I don't want to just forget about everything that happened and take him back with open arms."

"I don't think you necessarily have to forget what happened but maybe focus on the people you both have grown to be in these last few years. Maybe treat it like you are starting over."

"So you think I should go?"

"Selfishly yes of course," she said grinning and you couldn't help but smile back. "You don't even have to spend time with him. Just see how it feels to be around him."

After hanging up with Carmen, you texted the number Max had given you for his assistant in order to get flights and a hotel figured out.

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

You landed in Brazil on media day and didn't plan on going to the track until Saturday. Max was pulling out all the stops even when he couldn't see you as evidenced by the ridiculously nice hotel he put you in. The view was amazing and laying on the bed was a variety of your favorite snacks and drinks with a card that read "I'm so glad you're here -your Max."

The 'Your Max' thing was working even though you hated to admit it. You spent the next two days traveling around the city by yourself and then with Carmen.

Saturday rolled around and you found yourself nervous to be at the paddock despite Carmen's constant reassurances. You hadn't seen Max yet and you weren't really sure what to say when you did.

Funny enough, the first person you ran into when you made it to the RedBull garage was Christian Horner.

"Y/n!" He said surprised to see you. "It's been a while, how are you? You know my wife is obsessed with your tik tok channel."

"Ahh tell her I said thank you," you replied kindly. "I've been doing well."

"We're glad to have you back," he said and your heart swelled. "It's been a rough year for him."

"I'm not sure I can change that," you said politely and he gave you a look.

"You just being here might," he commented before leaving you to go talk with the mechanics. You wandered around the garage, catching up with a lot of people you hadn't seen in a long time.

Max spotted you as he was coming out of his drivers' room and his heart stopped. Of course he knew you were in Brazil, but he still wasn't 100% sure you'd show up. He didn't think he should approach you so he just lingered by watching you. You felt him watching you and looked over at him, trying to control your breathing and gave him a small smile.

He smiled back before being called off to get ready for the sprint. Leaning against the back wall you pulled your headphones and settled in to watch. Max was doing pretty good, battling with Charles for most of the race. Your face appeared on the broadcast and you smiled to the camera, giving it a small wave.

After the race you checked your phone to see that you'd been tagged in countless tweets.

@.username12312: Was that y/n y/l/n in the RedBull garage? I thought her and Max had a falling out???

reply to @.usernam12312 @.user345: Yeah they haven't been friends for a long time. It had something to do with Kelly

reply to @.user345 @.username12312: oh yeah, you're right! I always liked y/n better anyways

You were amused reading the speculation and decided to stir the pot further. While Max was doing interviews you found Checo in the garage and asked him to take a picture with you. The confused man agreed and you quickly posted it to your Instagram story with the caption: My favorite RedBull driver, good luck tomorrow!

Carmen and Lily both slid up with laughing emojis and you walked back to Max's side, trying to avoid the rain. It was really coming down now and you weren't sure if they would even be able to go out on the track. You found Max a little while later sitting against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sunk down next to him, holding your knees into your chest.

"Think you'll be able to go out there today?" You asked casually and he looked over at you, clearly excited to hear you speaking to him.

"I would say probably not," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow morning."

"How much longer until we know?"

"Another half hour would be my guess," he said. "I can call for someone to take you back if you want to leave now?"

"No, I'll wait," you said looking down at your phone. You sat in silence for a while and the rain was starting to make you very sleepy. Losing the battle with yourself, you rested your head on Max's shoulder and he stiffened.

Max smiled to himself as you dozed off and the two of you caught the attention of the cameras, the photo soon to be splashed everywhere online. Quali was called off and Max nudged you awake, reaching out to help you up.

"Ride with me back?" He asked hopeful and you nodded. You ran into George and Carmen on the way out and she gave you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes at.

"You guys should come out to dinner with us," George said. "We're meeting up with Alex and Lily too."

You hesitated, not wanting to miss out but at the same time your social battery was dead. You could only handle so much social interaction before you were craving your warm bed to snuggle into. You started to give in and agree but Max cut you off.

"I think y/n is done being around people for the day so I'm going to take her back."

You looked at him surprised and the realization that he still knew you so well just added more fire to the internal turmoil you were facing. Bidding them goodbye, you followed Max out of the paddock and into the car he had rented for the weekend. The car ride was silent as well as the elevator ride up to your floor.

Max followed close behind you as you made your way to your room and it was starting to irritate you.

"You don't need to walk me to my room Max," you said and he looked at your sheepishly.

"I'm in the one right next to you."

"Are you fucking serious?" You asked frustrated. "I need space Max!"

"I just want you to be safe," he defended and you rolled your eyes.

"From what?" You exclaimed. "Oh yeah, your girlfriend I mean ex-girlfriend is from here. Think she's sending people after me?"

"I don't think that's funny," he said, eyes darkening. "Sue me for wanting you close to me. I'm not going to apologize for that."

"You are the worst," you bit out before shoving into your room, slamming the door.

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

Stepping out of the steaming shower and back into the bedroom you glanced worriedly out the window. You wouldn't necessarily say that you had a fear of thunderstorms but they tended to make you uneasy.

Trying to distract yourself you put on South Park, your favorite show to watch in a hotel, but it didn't work. After a couple of booms you were still on edge. Sighing you got up and left your room, hoping a small walk around the hotel would ease your mind. By the time you made it back, Max was leaning against the wall by your door, waiting for you.

"Can't sleep?" He asked and you nodded.

"The storms."

"You always were scared of them," he teased and you scoffed.

"I'm not scared of them!" Right as you said that, a streak of lighting flashed by the hallway's window followed by a loud crash of thunder. You jumped a little and Max smirked.

"Come on," he said gesturing back to his room. You hesitated and he sighed. "We both know you won't fall asleep alone to this."

Giving in, you followed him into his room. It was a carbon copy of yours and you were amused to see South Park playing on his tv. He climbed into his bed but you stopped short; the scene in front of you reminded you of so many times before. When you traveled with him back in the day you'd often find yourself in his room at night hanging out. You always fell asleep and woke up in his arms, neither of you ever saying anything about it.

Max sat up in the bed looking at you, he knew what you were thinking.

"Y/n," he said softly as he watched you wipe a tear from your eye.

"This is so hard Max," you said, voice breaking. "How am I supposed to just forget?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not even like you broke my heart that day," you said meeting his eyes. "You had chipped away at it for so long that there wasn't even anything left to break."

Max's heart dropped and he moved over closer to where you were standing, so that you were now eye level.

"I was so scared back then y/n," he said and you put your head into your hands. "So scared of failing that I did things I shouldn't have done, like pushing you away to protect myself."

"Protect yourself from what?" You said, looking back at him.

"Your unconditional love," he said sadly and you tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.

"You acted like nothing happened, I watched you move on with your life," you accused, whispering to him.

"I did not move on, I was a mess. I couldn't eat or sleep for months and I latched on to you in whatever way I could through your videos or podcast. Every picture or video you saw of me was strictly PR."

"But you never reached out, not once in these past few years," you said, starting to grow angry with him.

"Neither did you!" He exclaimed.

"That's not fair Max," you retorted, moving away from him.

"Isn't it though? You accused me of moving on but I watched you do the same. I watched your popularity grow, watched you start to travel around the world, watched you post with other guys. You didn't need me to be happy."

"I needed my best friend!" You yelled and he flinched. "I needed you to be there to call when I got a new deal! I needed you to be there to lean on when I had self doubt! You ruined everything Max. I could never be truly happy celebrating something because in the back of my mind I was thinking about how you should have been there with me!"

Max squeezed his eyes shut, sitting down on the bed.

"I don't know how to fix this schatje," he whispered and you flinched at the term of endearment. "Everything has been so dark for so long. I am okay with you hating me forever. Because even if you just look at me, it'll be a better day than what I've had."

Sniffling, you stared into his red rimmed eyes. "I want to forget about you so badly Max but I can't."

He smiled softly at you before patting the bed.

"Please sleep here tonight, it will make me feel so much better knowing you were well rested. I'll sleep on the pull out couch," he said standing up.

"Just sleep in the bed with me," you said sighing, wiping the tears from your face before climbing into the bed. Max slid in next to you, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you and you drifted off to sleep.

The sound of his alarm woke you up at 4:30 and you groaned sleepily. Max's arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head buried in your hair as he refused to open his eyes.

"Max, you have to wake up," you said and he mumbled incoherently into you. You pried his hands off your body and stood up, stretching. He watched you lazily from the bed, wondering if this was a dream.

"I'm going to go get ready and then I'll meet you back in the hallway in 30 minutes okay?" You asked him and he nodded. Leaving his room you headed back into yours to get ready for the day. Your eyes were still a little swollen from last night but that was nothing a little makeup couldn't fix.

Pairing the new RedBull jacket with a black jeans you gathered all your stuff before texting Carmen about what had happened last night. All she responded was that we would discuss it in person and sent a winky face.

Max looked more awake standing out in the hallway and you both left for the track.

Qualifying was a mess to put it simply. Crash after crash after crash. It was spiking your anxiety to watch and you were just praying that Max would make it out unscathed. He did make it without crashing, but not without controversy.

You grew furious as you watched everyone in Q2 get to finish their laps following Lance's crash except for Max and Esteban. This made him miss out on Q3 for the first time in forever. You knew he was pissed when he got out of the car and his eyes met yours for a brief second. He talked to his engineers before grabbing your hand to drag you with him to over where he had to do interviews.

Standing behind the reporter you watched him try to contain his anger.

“If a guy goes straight into the wall, it is a straight red,” he said. “I don't understand why you need to take 30, 40 seconds for a red flag to come out...”

His voice was rising as he said it and both you and the reporter braced for the impact of whatever he was going to say next. He started to say something but then looked over at you and stopped himself, taking a deep breath before waving off the question.

“I don’t care in all honesty, it is so stupid to talk about. It’s ridiculous.”

He answered a couple more questions about the race happening later and you waited patiently. Christian came to join you and gave you a knowing look.

"I told you that being here would make things better," he said with a glint in his eyes. "I'm giving you credit for him avoiding more community service."

Things got even better after that with Max winning the Grand Prix in what you could only describe as a complete masterclass.

As the celebrations wrapped up, you and Max found yourselves alone in the quiet of the garage, both still processing the day's whirlwind. He glanced at you, a hesitant warmth in his gaze.

Max reached for your hand, gently holding it, as if afraid you'd slip away again. "I'm glad you came, I've needed you here for a long time."

"I'm still not sure where we stand Max," you said unsure of how to deal with what you were feeling.

"As long as your standing next to me, I'll be okay," he said cheekily and you smiled. You knew that your relationship had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, it was finally starting again.

pt. 3

[inurnctdreams]

dress - m.l

idol!mark x idol fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship, one shot, song fic (maybe?? i wouldn’t class it as one but there are references to lyrics and the song inspired the fic so??)

warnings: swearing, very suggestive (grinding, making out, over the clothes stuff but no explicit sex), alcohol, mentions of being tipsy/drunk (mark and reader have been drinking but everything is consensual), pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, mine/yours, dude (affectionate)), mdni

wc: 3.1k

notes: this entire thing stemmed from this gifset that gave me mark brainrot and made me think of the song dress by taylor swift

you’re pretty sure you’re supposed to be paying attention to the conversation happening in front of you right now. one of the executives for mbc… or was it kbs? whoever it was, they were important in the industry and they were talking at you and your group mates about your latest comeback stage… or maybe next year’s end of year concert that was already in the planning stages? you’d kind of stopped listening about five minutes ago. and it wasn’t your fault, really. you took your career seriously and wouldn’t dream of disrespecting anyone who was showing interest in your group by ignoring them usually, but you’d heard zhong chenle’s signature dolphin laugh across the room and that had been it. he’s here.

it would obviously be absolutely, outrageously scandalous for you to take off mid conversation, make a beeline for the group that had walked in and greet him like you want to. you have some modicum of self control and societal responsibility. and it isn’t a surprise, you knew he’d be here, you’d even gotten updates via text with a rough estimate of when he’d walk in. but you haven’t seen him in person in over three weeks and you’ve been looking forward to this night since the last time he’d kissed you goodbye at your door before sneaking back out of your dorm building to his car. 3am on a tuesday morning had turned out to be the only time the both of you were in the same city and without obligations in months. comebacks, tours, interviews. both of your lives were so hectic, it was difficult enough to get a moment to yourself to breathe, let alone together. now he’s here, in the same room as you, and you can’t do anything about it. the anticipation is killing you.

it hadn’t stopped you from pausing mid sentence when you’d registered his presence, though. disguising it with a cough and a modest apology, you’d finished your words and promptly stopped contributing to the conversation. smiling politely with your best poker face on as you tuned out of whatever was being discussed further and listened out across the room for any sign of him. chenle’s laugh is infectious, so donghyuck’s high pitched giggles soon joined in, audible above the rumble of laughter that had erupted from that corner of the room. but that was it. once the joke had worn off, the usual sounds of casual conversation replaced it, no doubt one of the older members’ doing as they reminded them of their surroundings. the first hour or so of award show after parties tend to be just the thing you’re ignoring: prominent figures in the industry congratulating and backhandedly complimenting idols whilst trying to promote something or take advantage of rookies with less media training by getting them to reveal secrets or agree to things.

once they’ve either gotten what they wanted or given up trying, they make their way out and the real party starts. realising you’re going to get nothing from the indiscernible voices in their direction, you start to work out how long you’ve been here, and how long you have to wait before it won’t be suspicious of you to drag your group over there to greet them. unfortunately, you’re interrupted midway through your mental calculations by something digging into your side. it’s gone before you even register the touch, light and inconspicuous. you glance down momentarily before meeting the eyes of your group mate, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“sorry, i didn’t quite catch that last bit.” your years of experience in the spotlight and exceptional training kick in immediately. you turn back to the middle-aged man in front of you with a practised innocent smile. “what were you saying?”

you smile graciously at the waitress as she hands you a flute of expensive champagne off of the shiny silver tray in her hand. taking a small sip, you school your face into a neutral expression to hide the wince at the acidic taste. you’ve never been much of a fan of the stuff, but it’s always handed out at events so you’ve gotten somewhat used to it in the years you’ve been legally allowed to drink at them. this is your second glass, and yet again you find yourself longing for the boring portion of the night to be over so the alcohol can start flowing more freely. you meet the eyes of your group mate and share a look, she hates champagne too. giggling to yourselves, you almost don’t notice the group of twenty-something boys heading in your direction, led by taeyong.

you’re immediately at full attention, straightening up from the pillar you’d been leaning against and placing your half full champagne flute on the nearest surface as you grin at your friends approaching. it’s almost comical, how the amount of people surrounding you in that moment feels like you’re looking for him in a crowd rather than just among his own group members. but then yuta moves to say hi to your group mate and there he is. god, he looks heavenly. the all black ensemble complimented by silver jewellery, his artfully tousled hair, the hint of gloss that have his lips looking so shiny and kissable it’s taking all of your entire being not to ravish him right here and now in the middle of this crowded room. not that he needs any of it to start up the roaring of butterflies in your stomach or trigger the giddy high you’re feeling. no, mark lee makes you feel like this every time he looks at you. barefaced, old t-shirt and glasses on with a hint of stubble starting to grow in as you sit next to him in the studio. bleary eyed, half asleep and hair sticking up as your phone alarm goes off on his bedside table. hoodie, snapback and face mask hiding most of his face as he slips into your practise room and catches your gaze in the mirror.

“y/n.” and everything just stops. the rest of the room falls away, the roar of conversation as your groups say hi is silenced, all you can see, hear, feel is him. the way he looks you up and down appreciatively that still makes your heart flutter despite it happening every time he sees you. he just has this way of making you feel like you’re the only one his attention would ever be captured by.

“hi, mark.” there’s a smile on your face, and you’re trying to make it your usual polite idol, public appearance smile, but really you have no control and you can feel the corners of your mouth turning up further against your will. you think that if you looked, his would be similar, probably that mischievous half-smirk he does that makes his dimple appear. and you love his dimple, but you’re currently captivated by the lovestruck look in his eyes. in that moment, you’re thankful you’d put your glass down because you would’ve dropped it. your hands shake as you force yourself to hold back from him. your groups are publicly very good friends, having known each other as trainees and debuting within a year of each other. you and mark have been best friends for years, and that’s all it was until the mutual pining hit its peak. there was something so beautiful about being in love with your best friend, with someone who understood how demanding your career was and already knew everything about you and who was still your best friend alongside being your boyfriend. around you, the rest of nct are giving your group mates half-hugs or shoulder nudges, but you don’t move to touch him, knowing you won’t let go if you initiate physical contact.

“y/n!” johnny rips you from your bubble. you have no idea how long you and mark were stood there, staring into each other’s eyes with that look on your faces, but it must’ve been long enough if someone’s intervened. the older idol pulls you into a short hug, but not before leaning down to murmur in your ear. “we know you guys are like, sickeningly in love, but would it kill you to not make it super obvious while there’s still cameras everywhere?”

oops.

“mark!” you whisper. or at least you hope you do, you’re pretty tipsy by this point in the evening. he just laughs, equally inebriated, and continues pulling you down the empty corridor, fingers intertwined. on a scale of zero to having your relationship exposed by dispatch come morning, sneaking off together a mere forty minutes after the industry execs had left the party is probably a solid deniable accusation. not exactly a great idea, but if anyone found out it wouldn’t be the end of the world, just carefully curated excuses in a statement and an earful from management. the first couple of doors he tries are locked, but third time seems to be the charm as you’re pulled into a room and plunged into darkness when the door clicks shut behind you.

“c’mere baby.” and you let go. all the pressure from being around so many people that could ruin your careers with one article, all the stolen glances across the room, all the secret smiles you share, all the patience that had been slowly wearing thin the longer you were in his proximity but not being able to do anything about it. it’s been been building all evening, and the dam finally breaks.

you practically throw yourself into his arms, winding your own around his neck as his wrap around your middle. he holds you to him so tight it hurts a little, but you’re probably slightly choking him with how strong your own grip is. the initial ‘holy shit you’re here and i can touch you without everyone looking’ moment passes and you both relax slightly. he still holds you close but it’s more grounding and comforting than anything. you bury your face into his neck and just let yourself breathe him in. his scent, the underlying notes of mark and home underneath the fancy cologne. the steady, comforting beat of his pulse against you. his arms are your safe place and being held by him makes everything better, even if just a little. you can’t count the number of times you’ve been exhausted or stressed or upset or scared or angry and all he’s had to do is pull you into him. you’ve cried on him, ranted into his chest and listened to him murmur words of encouragement and reassurance and love into your ear. there’s no other place you’d ever want to be. and even when you couldn’t physically be with him, he’s been there on facetime, or phone call, or over text. you’ve done the same for him without hesitation more times than you can imagine. he’s your person, your best friend, your soulmate, your everything, your one and only, your lifeline. you feel him press firm kisses into your hair and smile against his throat, snuggling into him happily.

“missed you.” you mumble. the alcohol in your system is amplifying the giddy feeling that’s thrumming through your entire being. all semblance of public image and self-control come crumbling down in front of him like always until all that’s left is the unguarded, most raw versions of yourselves laid bare for each other. he squeezes your hips and pulls back a little to look you in the eyes. you’ve adjusted to the darkness enough to make out his facial features and that same unfiltered, pure love is staring back at you from earlier but now he’s unabashedly grinning at you and his cheeks are flushed with happiness (and alcohol). his dimple is out in full force as he giggles right back at you. this is your mark, the one reserved for you and you only.

“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he whispers. “wish we could stay in here forever, just us.”

“i know.” you bite your lip, and his eyes zero in on your mouth. “wait, where even are we?”

“i don’t care.” and just as quickly as the wholesome, lovesick feeling had flooded you, the arousal and want flares up, threatening to consume you the second he grabs your face and claims your lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. he walks you both backwards until you’re pressed up against the door, gripping the sides of his jacket both for stability and to satiate the overwhelming need to get your hands on him. you whine against his lips as one of his hands slips into your hair and pulls gently, letting your hands roam under his jacket all over his waist and up his chest until they’re holding his shoulders. you use the leverage to push yourself up onto your tiptoes to match his heated, open-mouth kisses with the same carnal energy. he groans, the sound making you shiver and adding to the warmth pooling in your abdomen. the hand that’s not in your hair drops down to slide around you and grab your hip, pulling you even closer so you’re flush against his body. the need for oxygen is beginning to grow, but you’re addicted to the floaty, lightheaded feeling that comes along with it. it soon becomes too much, though, the both of you breathing heavily as you break away for air, but he wastes no time in leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw and neck, each one hotter and more filthy than the last.

“mark.” you whimper, turning your head to the side to grant him more access to your throat. he nips at your pulse point softly, careful not to leave a visible mark, but it makes you gasp and arch into him further all the same.

“my pretty girl.” he pants against your skin. “all mine.”

“mm-hmm.” you agree. “yours.” and you are, fully and irrevocably his in every sense of the word. you thread your own hands into his hair and pull his face back up to kiss him again. you could spend forever kissing him and never be satisfied, never get bored. it doesn’t matter than you know him better than you know yourself, or that you’ve spent hours in this exact same position with him already. there seems to be this endless need inside you for mark lee that started when you met him. you were kids back then, but you always craved his presence, his attention. over the years it’s developed, but the need for him has never wavered, even after he became yours.

“been thinking about this all night, you look incredible.” he confesses between kisses, both hands dropping from around you to wander under your dress and start caressing your thighs. his touch is electrifying, leaving trails of fire in his wake as he slides his hands up to grab your ass and squeeze it. the subsequent jolt of excitement has you whimpering against him and his grip moves to the crease where your ass and thighs meet. he kneads the soft flesh there sensually before squeezing again, and that’s all the warning you get before he lifts you up and presses you back against the door in one fluid motion without even breaking the kiss. you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, ankles crossing against his back. not that you think he’ll drop you, it’s never happened before, you just use the leverage to pull him in until you’re happily trapped between the cold, hard surface of the door and your boyfriend’s warm, inviting body. you both groan as his hips roll into yours. whether it was a result of you pulling him in or an intentional movement on his part is unknown, but the way he bites your lip and grinds his crotch into yours again is definitely not an accident. with you now supporting yourself, he’s free to bring one hand up to your chest, groping at your tits through your dress. his hips haven’t stopped moving, and you can feel the way he’s quickly hardening against your underwear. whilst the sensation is incredible, it snaps you out of the trance you’ve been in.

“babe.” you moan. “mark, baby, we can’t.”

“you mean we shouldn’t.” he smirks.

“no, i mean someone is going to notice we’re gone soon, if they haven’t already, and come looking for us.” you counter. he stops moving and looks up at you, the fog of arousal starting to clear from his expression. he sighs exasperatedly, knowing you’re right.

“fine.” he lowers you back to your feet. you know you both probably no longer resemble the perfect idol look your stylists and hair and makeup artists crafted before you decided to sneak off for a tipsy make out session in one of the back rooms, so you feel around for a light switch. your eyes squeeze shut as the room is flooded with light, blinking a couple times to readjust your vision. a giggle escapes you as you take in how adorably disheveled mark looks, hair tousled, collar rumpled and the pink hue of your lipstick smudged around his lips. although, you’re sure you look pretty similar.

you spend a couple minutes making yourselves look presentable again before you rejoin the party. “i should probably go first, give you a couple of extra minutes to calm down.” you tease, eyeing the tent in his pants.

“i bet if i checked, you’d still be soaking wet for me.” he retorts, eyes darkening slightly, sending a flush of heat straight to your core. he’s not lying. you take a deep breath to compose yourself before opening the door and stepping out into the corridor. you turn back to your boyfriend.

“behave.”

“the rest of this party’s gonna be torture, having to watch you go around looking like that.” he looks you up and down appreciatively again, though this time it’s a lot less innocent. you’re so glad that your schedules have calmed down enough to allow you more time together for the next month or so, the last couple months without being able to see him properly have been rough.

“well you can show me how much you like it when we get back to yours, later.”

“i plan to.”

“good. ‘cause i only bought this dress so you could take it off.” you smirk as the door shuts behind you.

“not helping, dude!” his voice is muffled as you begin walking back towards the party, giggling to yourself as you go. “i hate you!”

“no you don’t!”

[martinluvrr]

CRUSH CRAZY | PAIGE BUECKERS

⋅˚₊‧ paige x fem!physio

⋅˚₊‧ summary: the new physio of the Uconn Wbb has caught the eye of their golden player, but it seems Paige has become a little... crush crazy.

⋅˚₊‧ warnings: hoping none

⋅˚₊‧ duayaps: i hateee thisss but its been sitting in my drafts so i finally finished it 😭

⋅˚₊‧ nav ||

"AND BEFORE YOU TAKE THE PILLS MAKE SURE YOU ATE SOME FOOD" I said to Azzi. It's been about 2 weeks since I started working with her, the Uconn medical staff have been nothing but welcoming.

At first, I didn't know what I was getting myself into, where I come from basketball isn't a big enough thing the way football is ( soccer ). I also didn't spend that much tie on social media, but as soon as I opened tiktok, tons of edits filled my page, most about Uconn and other teams. There were especially edits of Uconn's number five.

Paige Bueckers.

The girl was attractive. And she had the confidence to prove it. Me and Paige had very little contact together , but even if it was for a second, for some odd reason, my stomach was filled with butterflies.

"Thank you again" Azzi's sweet voice said. I turned around to look at the girl, after she underwent surgery for tearing her ACL during practice last November, there was still a little pain in the leg, but nothing that should stop her from rejoining the team in January. Of course, left out from not being in the action.

"No problem and please be careful ,i dont wanna se you anymore, you're boring' I jokingly said to her, she let out a laugh. I heard a chuckle behind me, when I turned, there in all her glory, number five.

"Hi Paige" I muttered, suddenly becoming shy.

"Hey" She said grinning. "Soooooo..."

"Paige" I said sternly, hiding my smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I was just checking up on Azzi" She told me, cracking a small smile at Azzi. I hoped the disappointed wasn't showing in my face, the delusional part in me was hoping she just came to see me.

"Well she's all yours"

✰

"Coach" Nika yelled, suddenly at Geno. "I don't feel so good"

"What happened?" Geno questioned her, making her sit down. She was fine 10 minutes ago.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up" She said, staring at the ground. Coach felt Paige come beside him. "You okay?" Paige asked, Nika shook her head.

"Maybe we should call Y/N" Paige said, Nika nodded. Geno looked at the both of them, did they hit their head?

"Y/N's a physio, she doesn't deal with stomach problems" He explained, then he heard a cackle come from behind them. KK.

Now he got it, just before Nika came up to him, she was talking with Paige and KK, the three of them whispering amongst one another. Knowing Paige and her little crush, he could figure out that she put Nika up to this.

"Try telling me that again after suicides, maybe i'll believe it then" He said,trying to hide his smile, both Nika and Paige groaned. KK struggled to hide her laugh, scratch that, she didn't even hide it.

"Girl Boo, maybe next time" She said to Paige, laughing.

✰

Practice was over, and everybody was tired. Most of them half a sleep, including Paige. While they were used to their morning practices, Paige had a late night.

"Nah I'm going pick up something from Y/N real quick" She hard Aubrey say. Hearing Y/N name, Paige was awake real quick.

" I'll come with you" She offered, the locker suddenly filled with laughs. Her teammate agreed but not before teasing her with the rest. After getting ready, both of the Uconn basketball players made their way to the medical wing, Paige was nervous, she was always nervous to see Y/N. Suddenly feeling insecure, Paige smelled herself, stressing because she's sweaty. She heard her teammate laugh. "Bro relax" Aubrey reassured her.

When they finally stood in front of Y/N's office door, when Aubrey saw that Paige was still in a bit of a daze, she took the honor of knocking on the office door. When they both heard a sweet voice yelling come in, they followed her orders.

"Oh Hi" I said surprised to see both of them here. Aubrey replied greeting me back, but Paige, just stood there staring at her, grinning like a maniac. "Hi P" I said to her.

"Hey" she replied. Before i could ask what she was doing here, Aubrey caught my attention, asking about her meds and if she could take lighter ones. I replied to all her questions, asking if she was feeling okay or if she needed a checkup. While i talked to Aubrey, i could feel Paige's eyes on me at the side of my head.

As Aubrey left, i expected for Paige to follow her, but the blonde didn't move. "P, do you need something?" i asked her.

"there's this party tonight , you should stop by"

Was Paige inviting you as a date? no.

"Okay, text me the details and i'll think about it" i kinda accepted her invite. Tonight i already made plans with my roommate, i don't think its a good idea to cancel those just because i want to see my crush. I also didn't want my hopes to be up.

While Y/N thought about that, Paige was beaming with excitement on the inside, if Y/N did show up tonight. this was going to be the night where she made her move.

✰

She didn't show, she. didn't. show.

In Y/N's head, she didn't think not being at that party was a big deal. she assumed Paige was just being nice inviting her and she definitely didn't know that P was disappointed.

Today they had normal hard practices, and today was actually the final time Paige tried to get Y/N's attention. no like actually the last time.

As she dribbled the ball, suddenly she dropped the ball, and dramatically fell to the ground. Ice let out a laugh, but while she knew what Paige's plan was, Geno and Y/N didn't.

I gasped, seeing Paige suddenly on the ground, she was fine literally 10seconds ago. Quickly running over, followed by the rest of the coaching staff.

“Can u get up by yourself?”

“I can try”

okay good sign, good sign. it’s not broken.

“To my office” I instructed both Nika and Paige. While holding on to Paige, giving her a bit of support.

When we arrived, I made Paige lay down. And started testing her knee. It seemed fine, actually perfect.

“Maybe we should get another opinion, I don’t think my brains working properly”

I can’t seem to find out whats wrong, she says her knee hurts, but the tests i did make her look perfect.

“Ummm Alright” i heard her hesitate. Her voice slightly nervous.

“Paige”

“Yeah”

“Are you… not injured?”

“Kinda” She answered.

I furrowed my eyebrows, making me think back. Maybe she didn’t want the pressure or she just wanted an excuse out of practice.

“Paige if you are using this to get out of practice well you’ve got another thing comi-”

“Im using this as an excuse to see you” She cut you off.

“What”

“I’ve literally been giving you hints all year and you’re telling me you didnt know i liked you?”

“Well no” I answered honestly. When i finally met her eyes, a small smile took over my face. Her sad face turned hopeful.

“I like you too P” i said “You couldve just asked me out and this wouldn’t have had to happen”

“Don’t even try to turn this on me ma” she started ranting, you just laughed and stood there watching. Okay so you weren’t delusional.

✰

[adventuringblind]

Entitled To You (3.6K words)

Norstaptri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.

Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.

Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T

Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay. 

“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!

“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”

“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.” 

She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s. 

To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.” 

The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining. 

She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert. 

The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her. 

They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner. 

If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy. 

“Not so confident now, huh?” 

The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?” 

“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”

“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening. 

“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.” 

“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.

“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her. 

It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be. 

And then nothing. 

A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for. 

His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy? 

“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before. 

She blacks out. 

~~~♡~~~

Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes. 

When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound. 

Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her. 

Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry. 

She can't move. 

It's dark again. 

~~~♡~~~

The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot. 

The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute. 

“Max, she always responds.” 

“I know Lando.” 

“She always calls if she's going to be longer.” 

“Lando?”

“Yes?”

“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?” 

The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet. 

Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered. 

They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now. 

Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes. 

“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features. 

“What the fuck?” 

Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.” 

Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help. 

“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears. 

It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that. 

“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable. 

The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely. 

Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help. 

It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian. 

He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?

“When will they let us see her?”

“When she wakes up, most likely.”

He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name. 

“-She’s asking for us.” 

He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall. 

Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?” 

She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando. 

Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing. 

She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”  

“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one.  Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her. 

“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?” 

“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead. 

“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?” 

“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.

“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.” 

“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck” 

Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep. 

~~~♡~~~

Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained. 

On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated. 

The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution. 

Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort. 

Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off. 

“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.” 

The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”

“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.” 

“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment. 

It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?” 

“And what if I am?” 

She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible. 

They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.

Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’. 

Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.” 

“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.” 

“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes. 

Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”

“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”

“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.” 

He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble. 

“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?” 

“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him. 

Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.” 

~~~♡~~~

It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.

He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something. 

Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now. 

Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times. 

Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here. 

“Get out!” 

“We were just talking-” 

“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room. 

He’s not prone to violence. 

Really, he’s not. 

Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good. 

The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming. 

Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.  

“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.” 

“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”

Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.” 

“Equilibrium.” 

“Yeah that!” 

He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline. 

They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits. 

The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point? 

“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.” 

“Christian said-”

“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”

lando Can’t help but share her feelings.

~~~♡~~~

She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet. 

At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart. 

The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance. 

They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.  

She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her. 

She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see. 

Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say. 

She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.

The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage. 

Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.

The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been. 

She wins the next race. 

“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.” 

“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.

“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence. 

“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…” 

“You’re a genius Oscar!”

She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they’ve been so patient. 

“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her. 

She smiles back.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Utterly gone - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Can be read as part 2 to A smile like that but it's a piece on its own.

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, oral sex mainly.

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Wasn't gonna post this, but I think we could all use some soft smutty comfort after the shit show this race was.

a/n.2: Special mention to Lewis adjusting in front of the cameras in the quali press conference

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The suite was quiet when I finally slipped inside, the faint hum of the almost rising city life seeping in from the balcony. I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my heels, feeling every ounce of fatigue settle in.

Singapore always did that—drained you without mercy, and yet, it was beautiful enough to make you forgive it.

Lewis had beaten me back to the room, not that it had surprised after hearing he wouldn’t be making the media round.

Sure enough, I found him in the bathroom, leaning his weight on the counter, fresh out of the shower, a towel slung low around his waist.

His skin gleamed under the warm lights, and his face… tired was a understatement— he could probably sleep for a week straight.

Dark circles under his eyes, the slightest furrow to his brow, as he absentmindedly worked his moisturizer into his skin.

God, how was it possible for him to look so good after almost being dehydrated?

I should probably say something snarky. After all, I had asked for a win, and what did I get?

But I knew better in that moment and honestly watching him rub lotion into his skin with those deft, practiced hands—he was so gentle with himself, it was almost unfair how much I melted at the sight of it.

My eyes trailed down his back, appreciating the little flex of muscle every time his hands moved, before finally pushing off from the door and walking toward him.

The whole thing felt so domestic, so… normal. Like this was our routine after every race weekend. Like I wasn’t still getting used to seeing him like this—bare, unguarded, with no cameras or crowds around.

“Hey,” I greeted, leaning against the counter beside him, my hand brushing his skin. He glanced at me through the mirror, a tired smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey, love” he murmured, still focused on his task. I watched the way his fingers traced the lines of his jaw as he applied the cream, and a warmth spread through my chest.

“Not quite what we expected, was it?” I tried, still feeling the mood in the room, my eyes twinkling as I caught his gaze in the mirror.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Guess I owe you a win.”

I gave a mock frown, crossing my arms. “Yeah, you do. But, hey, at least you managed to sneak in that kiss before the race, so maybe I can forgive you.”

He turned to face me now, that infamous grin spreading slowly across his lips. “Couldn’t resist” he said, reaching out to pull me toward him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I let him, his body sinking into me while my body betrayed any pretense of annoyance.

I rolled my eyes. “You know I hate that. Not in front of all the cameras.”

He chuckled again, the sound low and rich, vibrating against my chest. “You liked it, though. Don’t lie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I quipped, trying to ignore the way his fingers trailed up and down my spine. “But for the record, I also owe you.”

He breathed in almost sighting, leaning in closer, his breath brushing my ear. “I’m knackered, babe.”

I pushed him gently toward the bed, unable to hold back my grin. “Don’t worry, this reward doesn’t require you to lift a single finger.”

I brought the lotion from the counter. Lewis was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slouched, towel still hanging precariously low on his hips.

His eyes tracked my every movement as I made my way over, like he was too tired to speak but too intrigued not to watch.

I stood in front of him, letting the lotion warm in my hands before I gently placed them on his arms. His skin was still damp from the shower, and as I worked the lotion into his forearms, I could feel the exhaustion radiating off him. His muscles, taut and defined, finally relaxing under my touch.

“Thought you said this was my reward,” he muttered, a half-hearted attempt at a banter playing at his lips as he watched me. “Feels more like I’m getting spoiled.”

“Shh,” I said, quirking a brow at him. “Don’t ruin the moment, Hamilton.”

He chuckled softly, but he didn’t argue. Smart man.

I let my hands wander further, rubbing the lotion into his biceps, taking my time. He deserved it.

God knows how much strain he puts his body through during that race, and seeing him like this—vulnerable, letting me take care of him—made my heart do that stupid fluttering thing I still wasn’t used to.

As I moved to his shoulders, massaging the knots and tension out of his neck, he let out a low, contented hum, his head dropping forward just slightly.

“This alright?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. It was in the way he was practically melting under my hands.

“Mmm,” was all he managed to get out, his eyes fluttering shut as I continued my work.

My hands moved to his chest, spreading the lotion across his smooth skin. His breath hitched, just for a second, as my fingers grazed his collarbone.

God, he was beautiful. I tried to keep my thoughts from spiraling, but it was hard not to admire every inch of him—the way his chest rose and fell beneath my touch, the warmth radiating off his skin.

By the time I got to his abs, his eyes were back on me, half-lidded but focused, watching my every move. I couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my lips.

“You really know how to spoil a man” he murmured, his voice husky.

I shrugged playfully. “I did promise you something, didn’t I?”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, we just stood there, me between his legs, him looking up at me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.

And maybe I was. At least for that night anyway.

I cupped his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over the light stubble on his jaw. His beard was a little more grown out than usual, and the roughness beneath my fingers made me smile at much we had grown used to each other.

“Whatever this is between us,” I started, my voice quieter now, my heart pounding harder than I cared to admit, “I’m ready for it, if you are.”

His breath caught in his throat, and for a second, I wondered if I’d said too much. But then he smiled—God, that smile—and it was all I needed.

He pulled me down to meet his lips, soft and slow at first, like he was savoring every second.

When we finally broke apart, there was a look in his eyes—something vulnerable, something real—and it made me laugh softly, because Lewis Hamilton, the man who could keep his cool under any amount of pressure, looked like he was trying to make sure he hadn’t just imagined this whole thing.

“You really are unbelievable” I teased, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip.

He gave me that lazy smile and pulled me closer, his voice low, almost reverent. “And you’re mine.”

And in that moment, I knew it was true.

As I knelt between his legs, my fingers trailing along his soft, warm skin, a single thought crossed my mind: How did I get here?

One minute, I was dodging his cheesy messages, and now the man was sitting there, half-asleep, eyes half-lidded, as vulnerable as I had seen him.

And me? I was utterly gone for him.

But, God, he looked so damn good. Even tired, fresh out of the shower, with his braids slightly damp and that towel sitting low on his hips. The way he sat, like he knew he had all the time in the world, like he could wait for me forever.

We were both worn out after the weekend, the clock read 5.a.m and the man had just lost around 3kgs in under two hours. Yet here I was, determined to give him the kind of reward he wouldn't forget.

Because, if I was being honest with myself, I wanted this as much as he did.

His breath hitched as I ran my hand down his abs, my fingers teasingly hovering near the edge of the towel. He shot me a look—half amused, half daring. His smirk was infuriatingly confident, even now.

I could tell he was fighting exhaustion, but there was no way he was going to let me out of this one.

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured, low and sultry, as though I hadn’t already made up my mind.

I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a playful grin. "Oh, I’m not tempting." I let my fingers slip just under the edge of the towel. "I’m delivering."

Before he could get another word in, I tugged the towel loose. It fell open in his lap, and his throat pushed down a gulp as he realized exactly where this was heading.

His breath hitched when my fingers brushed lightly over his soft dick, and I couldn’t help but smirk. “What was that about ‘a heatstroke’ Hamilton?”

He chuckled softly, though it was a little strained, his eyes never leaving mine as I wrapped my hand around him, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Was told to not lift a muscle and be mindful of heavy activities”

“Mm-hmm, don’t worry I’ll take it from here”

As my hand wrapped around his soft dick, I could see the exact moment the cockiness melted off his face. His lips parted, and a shaky breath escaped him as I gave him a slow stroke, feeling him harden in my hand.

My inner voice was screaming with victory. That little smirk? Gone. Reduced to nothing but ragged breaths and soft moans.

I kissed along his length, starting slow, teasing. Because even though I wanted to give him exactly what he craved, I wasn’t about to let him off that easy.

His hips bucked just a little, his eyes fluttered shut for a moment and his lips parting slightly. All reminders of how much he needed this, needed me.

And honestly, I loved every second of it.

My lips grazed his tip, already glistening with pre-cum, and I flicked my tongue against him, tasting him for the first time tonight. The salty-sweetness on my tongue made me hum in satisfaction.

He groaned, his head tilting back as I took him into my mouth, inch by inch, my hand still stroking what my lips couldn’t reach. He was getting harder, thickening in my mouth, and when I peeked up at him, his eyes were half-closed, his face contorted in bliss.

“Fuck, love…” His voice was low and ragged, like he could barely string the words together.

Encouraged by the sound of his pleasure, I picked up the pace, sucking him deeper and harder, my free hand gently massaging his balls.

His breath hitched again, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward, pushing himself further into my throat.

I wasn’t just giving him head; I was savoring him, relishing every reaction he gave me. He wasn’t just a F1 champion right now—he was mine, completely undone by me, and that thought made me chuckle.

His fingers went to back of my neck, his fingers tugging at the soft skin, gently guiding my head as I bobbed up and down on him. His touch wasn’t rough, though—more like he was hanging on for dear life, trying not to lose control.

But I wanted him to lose control. I wanted to be the reason.

It wasn’t long before his body started to tense, his breath coming out in sharp gasps, his grip on my head tightening as I took him deeper, my lips wrapped tightly around his now fully engorged dick.

“Love, I’m—” His voice broke, a guttural moan escaping his lips as I felt his cock pulse in my mouth. And then, with one last thrust, he came.

His warm, slightly fruity-tasting seed spilled into my mouth, and I swallowed him down, feeling the tension leave his body in waves.

I stayed there for a moment, his dick still in my mouth, gently holding him as he came down from the high. When I finally released him, I couldn’t help but leave a soft kiss on the tip, smiling up at him.

For a moment, I just watched him, wondering how I could feel this good about someone else’s pleasure. But it was him. It was Lewis. The man who could make me smile just by walking into a room, the one who posted cheesy Instagram captions just to get a reaction out of me.

His chest was heaving, his head thrown back, and when he finally looked down at me, his expression was somewhere between disbelief and utter satisfaction.

“Jesus” he muttered, still catching his breath.

I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand before standing up and leaning in to kiss him softly. He kissed me back with lazy, contented strokes of his lips, tasting himself on me.

“You good there, champ?” I teased, brushing my hand on the skin of his thigh.

He let out a weak chuckle as I stood up, leaving Lewis in a blissful haze, he watched me with those half-lidded, dazed eyes, his lips still parted and a silly smile danced on his lips.

“Just need a quick shower,” I said, my voice lighter now, as I brushed a hand over his damp chest. His skin was warm under my fingers, still slick from the lotion, and for a second, I just wanted to crawl into bed with him right then and there.

Lewis chuckled softly, his hand slipping lazily over mine before letting it go. “Take your time, love. Not going anywhere.”

The playful edge in his voice was replaced by something softer, and it made my heart flip. He didn’t need to say it, but I could hear the unspoken words between us: I’m here to stay.

As I disappeared into the bathroom, I let the water run warm, and my mind wandered back to him, sitting there on the bed, probably still recovering.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world, this routine between us—like we’d been doing it for years instead of months.

Under the warm stream, I couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot. My mind couldn’t help but flicker back to yesterday, to that moment in the presser where the world had caught him, not-so-discreetly, adjusting himself in his fireproofs.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Not in a dirty way… okay, maybe a little dirty. But mostly, I couldn’t stop picturing his hands, the way his muscles tensed.

Like he’d hoped no one would notice. Like I hadn’t already memorized every detail about him, including that not-so-little part he was trying to rearrange.

I’d tried to play it cool, ignoring the way the image stuck with me since, but now that I’d just had him falling apart under my hands, it only made the memory that much more satisfying.

The teasing was fun, but the way he trusted me with parts of himself no one else saw—that was something else.

When I stepped out, towel wrapped around me, I found him exactly where I’d left him.

Only this time, he’d shifted to the middle of the bed, his head resting on the plush pillows, the towel from earlier discarded somewhere, and the duvet pulled over his waist.

He looked so at peace, the kind of peace you only find after you've completely let go. His eyes fluttered open as I crossed the room.

“You know,” I said, sliding into bed beside him, “I wasn’t planning on making you that blissed out.”

He chuckled, his hand immediately finding my waist, pulling me closer. “Didn’t hear any complaints from me.”

I laughed softly, snuggling up to him as his arm wrapped securely around me. My hand found its place on his chest, where I began tracing lazy circles against his skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths beneath my fingertips.

It was quiet for a moment, the kind of comfortable silence where nothing needed to be said.

The world outside didn’t matter. The race result didn’t matter.

It was just us, tangled together in a king-sized bed, far away from the noise of the race, the cameras, the expectations. It felt like we were in our own little bubble, and I didn’t want it to pop.

As his head found its way to my lap, his hair tickling my thighs, I continued my absent-minded tracing on his skin, enjoying the closeness.

His body started to relax even more, sinking into me like he was using me as a pillow.

And then, just when I thought he’d drift off completely, he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, “That was better than a podium.”

I blinked, momentarily confused. “Wait… the head?”

He let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a sleepy smile. “Nah, love. Having you here… as mine. That’s what’s better.”

My breath hitched, and for a second, I wasn’t sure how to respond.

My heart did that stupid thing where it felt too big for my chest, and all I could do was smile like an idiot.

The man could win championships, sure. But moments like this? When it was just us, no pretense, no show—this is where he truly wins me over.

I looked down at him, his eyes closed already, lashes brushing his cheeks, and I brushed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Mhm…” he muttered, already half-asleep. “Love you too.”

And just like that, I was a goner. The words weren’t even fully processed in my mind, but my heart knew.

It always had.

I didn’t even need to say them back. Not yet. He knew. And he’d wait, just like he always did.

As he drifted off, his breathing slow and even, I felt a warmth settle in my chest. I could’ve sworn he was smiling, even in his sleep.

And yeah, maybe I had fallen hard for him, but if this was what it felt like? I wasn’t in any rush to stop.

______________________________________________________________

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[prettyflyforawhitelie]

I love your Husk pieces! He's my favorite =^.^= I wanna hug the shit out of him 😆

If you have time, could you do one where Charlie planned a movie night for "bonding" lol and the reader ends up falling asleep on Husk? Everyone ships them and encourages him to confess to her? So much fluff please! Thanks hon! ^.^

A/N: This is so adorable!! Love this! I hope you enjoy! XD

Pairing: Husk x fem!Reader

“Until I Smile at You” - Husk x Reader

After living at the Hazbin Hotel for a while, Charlie’s “trust exercises” had become less of an annoying nuisance and simply a part of daily life. Actually, they were kind of refreshing and - dare you say - fun! They ranged from trust falls and share circles to your personal favorite - movie night. Movie night happened once a week and every week the person who chose the movie rotated. This week was supposed to be Angel’s turn, but ever since he chose his movie to be the most graphic porn anybody had ever had the displeasure of seeing, he was banned from choosing the movies. Instead of Angel, the group decided to let Alastor choose. He was always a marvel, as his movies ranged from silent films to disgustingly gorey horror movies. Tonight, however, he picked a noir detective film that he enjoyed while he was still alive (not before endlessly complaining about how radio is the superior media form, though).

One thing that nobody could stand about Alastor’s movies was how much he talked during them. I guess it's because he's so used to working in radio that he cannot comprehend that maybe, just maybe, not everybody wants to hear his voice all the time. He would either explain every little detail about the leading actors or talk about a living memory that he associated with the specific scene.  This night, though, Alastor seemed so enamored by the movie that he was completely silent. You were sitting on the couch with Alastor, Angel, and Husk, and found your eyes getting slightly heavier with every passing minute. The combination of the dark room, boring movie, and precious silence was just what you needed to drift into a peaceful slumber. Slowly resting your head and body on the irresistibly soft and warm cat demon beside you, your consciousness fades in and out until your mind is finally met with sleep.

The second Husk felt your head meet his shoulder in a gentle embrace, he froze. He had only ever imagined this happening, and was nowhere near prepared for it to actually happen tonight. Despite his hard and tough facade, Husk craved nothing more than soft affection, and knowing that you trusted him enough to not disturb your slumber flattered him. He remained completely still (so as not to wake you) for more than an hour until the movie finished. Charlie, using the remote to find another movie, said, 

“Thank you guys for spending tonight with me! This was amazing! I think I’m going to put on another movie, if anybody wants to stay down here, but you’re welcome to go upstairs and go to slee-'' she is cut off when she turns around to see you asleep on Husk, practically beaming with joy. “AWWWWW-” she is cut off by Husk’s “Shh!”, partially because he is embarrassed but also because he doesn’t want you to wake up in embarrassment. This caused everybody’s attention to turn to the two of you, not quite as surprised as Charlie.

“I mean, are we shocked? He’s been fawning over Y/N ever since she moved in. Don’t shame the poor guy…” Angel says in a mocking tone.

Everyone’s eyes slightly divert, not wanting to completely show that Husk’s attraction to Y/N is anything short of obvious.

“Shut the fuck up, man” Husk replies. 

“I’m not saying that she’s told me that she likes you back… buuuuut you should definitely just tell her. Trust me.” Charlie says, literally gleaming with excitement. 

Hearing this, Husk’s insides flip, his internal monologue running wild.

‘Did she- does she- could Y/N actually like someone like me? She’s just so… perfect. I don’t deserve her. But - let’s just - don’t get your hopes up, man. This could just be Charlie being Charlie, saying shit to make people leave their comfort zones or something.’

“Alright idiots, let’s not wake her up.” he says, sighing and gently picking you up. 

“I hear a single word about this tomorrow, and I’ll kill ya.” he says, while quietly walking to your room. 

He rolls his eyes while listening to Angel making fun of him and Charlie trying earnestly to defend you guys, saying something along the lines of “But this is how Vaggie and I started to fall in love!”

Opening your door as quietly as possible, he gently places you down on your bed. Covering you with blankets, he turns to leave until he hears your soft voice call to him:

“Was all that stuff they said about you true?”

Shit. You heard? Should he deny it? Pretend he didn’t even hear you?

“What?”

Deny it is.

“The stuff that Charlie and Angel said… about you liking me. Is that true?” you ask.

“I don’t know what kind of dream you were having, but everyone was dead silent during the movie, because, yknow, bonding time or whatever.”

He was avoiding your gaze until now, hoping that you would just accept the lie and go back to sleep. Instead, when he looked at you, he was met with your disbelieving face staring right back at him. 

“Mhm.” you say sarcastically. 

Moments of awkward silence lead to Husk trying to make a quick escape, muttering goodnight and walking to your door. He’s halfway out of the doorway when he hears your voice again.

“It’s a shame, I was hoping that what they were saying was true.” you say teasingly, just loud enough for him to come back into the room.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing” you reply, smugly. 

“Don’t do that.” he says, clearly intrigued but trying to seem annoyed. 

“Do what?” you say, teasingly.

“Satan, just tell me what you said. I don’t like playing games.” he says.

“Oh, but, clearly you do, if you’ve been ‘fawning’ over me since the day I've walked in,  yet.. said nothing.”

He looks - embarrassed. Almost hurt. 

“Fine, yeah, I like you. No need to rub it in and be an asshole about it, I know you don’t like me.”

You look at his diverting eyes and immediately regret your teasing tone.

“Oh, Husk, I wasn’t making fun of you, I was just being stupid. Come here.” you say, patting the spot next to you on the bed. 

He sits next to you, looking confused.

“Here.” you say, while holding his hands in yours. 

“Listen. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I mean, obviously I like you too. Was it not clear?” you giggle. 

Husk’s eyes widened in shock.

“What- I mea- You like me? Why?” he blurts out.

“Why? Come on, don’t be dumb. You’re the funniest person I know, you’re always willing to listen to me, and you’ve never once turned me away when I needed help. And, you're truly handsome, but that’s just a bonus. You’ve made being trapped in Hell actually enjoyable, which is something that you should be proud of. I wake up everyday excited to see you, to talk to you. I just wish you would've told me that you liked me sooner (and yourself)” you say.

Husk’s eyes are glued on you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see, like he has to memorize your every feature before he blinks. He has never been more enamored with anybody before. 

In lack of a better response, all he can blurt out is, “Thank you!?”

You giggle, a slight blush creeping up your face. 

“And you are clearly tired. How about you sleep in here tonight? We can cuddle, or talk, or just sit with each other.” you ask.

“That - That sounds great.” he says, truly letting his guard down for the first time in years. As he lays next to you, finally becoming truly comfortable, he swears that he can see a white, fuzzy hand holding a phone by the slightly-ajar door.

“Angel, if that’s you by that door right now, you’re gonna want to run.”

You can hear the spider’s screams of “I GOT IT GUYS! THE FULL VIDEO!! AHAHAHAHA!” as Husk reluctantly leaves the bed.

“Excuse me,” he says, “I’m gonna go take care of this. I’ll be back.”

As he leaves, you start to realize how you got from the couch to the bed in the first place. Smiling to yourself, you savor the fact that, though you were condemned to eternal damnation, these people that you have found could not have created a better heaven for you.