#can't wait to see the chapter for june :))

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 '𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨 | 𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐜𝐬. 𝟓𝟓 & 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒

summary: have you worked every shift possible for a chance of running into carlos and lando? yes. are you mad that you have a month of summer left and you still haven’t stumbled upon them? yes.

content warning: 18+. mdni. explicit sexual content. plot with porn. summer fling/vacation romance. fluff. light angst. light angst with a happy ending. banter. attempt at humor. explicit language. for extended tags, open in ao3.

pairing: poly! carlos sainz jr x lando norris x phd-student! fem!black!reader

word count: 18k words. (new record!)

from, serene: i am extremely proud of what i created. i hope it was worth waiting for, and i can't wait for the next episode !!! my next upload might be an alex albon smau series, for those that requested it. pls pls pls, send me asks and leave comments on this if you'd like! i'd love to hear your thoughts on sip of sunshine, and how it's building so far xxx thank you so much, my loves :) (50 more followers until 3k :o)

this has also been uploaded on my AO3 for anybody who finds it easier to read a fic of this length on there (looking out for those on mobile x)

⌕ prev | join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents | sip of sunshine | next ↻

Studying for a doctorate does not directly correlate to a person’s brilliance. If you were smart, you wouldn’t have returned to the golf club for another summer with the sole hope of reuniting with the two stunningly fine men you shared a ten-minute conversation with. However, you chose to beat intelligence in a foot race, and here you are: driving the same beverage cart while sweating off your sunscreen for the fifth year in a row; furthermore, you have not crossed paths with Carlos and Lando once in the two months you’ve been working.

It’s difficult to believe that Lando had told the truth when he mentioned that they’ve been attending Club La Moraleja consistently for the past four years. You want to believe him, but the evidence against him is overwhelming. You’ve worked every possible shift this season, at every possible time, on every possible course, without a single spotting of the duo from the beginning of June. 

It’s August. If you allow yourself to think maniacally, you would infer that they’re avoiding you on purpose.

Previously, you were under the assumption that they were obviously flirting with you. The sexual innuendos, double-entendres, calling you a “sip of sunshine,” and the eighty euro tip Carlos left you (which had to be a mistake)—from which you deduced that they were making a move on you. You would even say that their instance in convincing you to return to the green was the smoking gun you needed to seal their fate in the case of you catching their interest. 

Nonetheless, they are nowhere to be found. 

You cope by entertaining the aspect of you suffering from heat stroke or heat exhaustion, and you created Carlos and Lando as a figment of your delusions during your compromised mental state. On the other hand, there’s also a chance that they took your joking threat—of never returning if you had to put up with their subpar pick-up lines—seriously. You didn’t consider that they would misunderstand your teasing banter but, you haven’t seen them a single time this summer.  

It’s unsettling. You’ve never been this disappointed about men not taking the clear hint. 

Obviously, you’d be relieved if any of the sleazy, rude, and archaic golfers stopped bothering you after their first attempt. But, Carlos and Lando? They’re the exact opposite of the men you described. They’re young, polite, funny, charming, and attractive. It’s not outlandish for you to say that there was some budding chemistry between you three.

It’s regrettably characteristic of you to develop crushes on men you haven’t shared more than one conversation with. Too bad you’re never going to see them again. And, screw them! Who do they think they are? It’s not like they’re anybody special—they probably delighted in filling your mind with false hope. 

The next time you see them, you’re running them over with the bev cart. All gas, no breaks.

The motor whirs loudly as you drive over a hill to the last hole of Course Four—and, you’ll be damned.

“Well, look at you! You stayed!”

You can’t tell if this is the universe blessing you or sending you a curse in disguise. 

Lando’s words ring in your ears as your brain fails to compute the sight of him and Carlos smiling at you from across the green, down in a bunker. 

Lando’s…matured beautifully, over the year you haven’t seen him. He was attractive before, but as you direct the cart closer, you can tell he’s grown into himself. There’s a broadness to his shoulders, a sharpness to his eyes, and a hollowness to his cheekbones that certainly makes it impossible for anybody to deny that he’s beautiful. 

Carlos is angeringly more handsome than he was before, somehow. You blame it on the backwards cap and his stupidly wide, warm, beautiful, brown eyes. You cut the engine off, scratching fiendishly at the back of your neck to dispel your thoughts about his nose and lips, how you would pay to see his brown eyes darkened between your thighs.

“Obviously,” you state dryly, roughly tucking the curls that slipped from your ponytail behind your ear, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Their grins falter at your biting tone and they glance at each other in surprise at your irritated response. They climb out of the bunker and walk to meet you at the side of the cart. You’ve turned your back to them, hearing their footsteps approach but you continue to mindlessly organize any cups that shifted out of place as you drove.

“It was just an observation,” the Brit continues, you can hear him still smiling around his words, “A conversation starter, I guess.”

You put on an impassive expression before turning around and staring at the two with your arms crossed, “Mm. Who’s the one who’s bad enough at golf to land in the bunker? Wait—don’t tell me! You’re both probably stuck in the sand trap.” 

Lando’s mouth audibly drops open with an insulted gasp and Carlos’s brow furrows in confusion.

You wave a dismissive hand through the air before they can reply, “What do you want to drink?”

“Uh…What?” Carlos fumbles, lost at your deviation.

“What, ‘what?’” You snap, annoyed at his feigned innocence, like he’s unaware that they lead you on for the entirety of a summer that they just appeared in, “What do you want to drink? As in a refreshment? ¿Una bebida? I know you’re familiar with ordering from the cart as I served you last year—and since you both have been coming here for five years!” [A drink?]

The two stare at you in blatant terror as your voice echoes in the air. Their stunned silence at your “unfounded” anger only serves to exasperate you further.

“Make it quick,” your voice trembles infuriatingly, “What would you like to drink?”

“Did we do something wrong? If we upset you, we have no idea what we did,” Carlos rambles pleadingly. You almost buy it.

“Yeah, what’s with the attitude?” Lando gracefully ruins their chances of being acquitted, “We haven’t seen you in nearly a year; What could we have done wrong?”

“Attitude—are you serious!?” You scoff, insulted at the very idea, before continuing mockingly “Whatever—it’s a beer and a lime mocktail, right? Or, would you prefer a sip of sunshine?”

The men don’t have a chance to edit their orders as you sharply throw open the beer cooler, all three of you flinching as the lid slams into the cart and the bottles and cans clamoring together worryingly. You don’t let the fear of damaged property interrupt your fury as you brandish the beer towards Carlos, snatching your hand away as soon as his closes around the neck of the bottle. 

He murmurs his thanks in his native tongue but the curl of his accent—no matter how alluring it sounds—incenses you further, and you huffily turn your back towards them as you craft Lando’s drink.

The thought of them being truthful about their confusion about your annoyance flares in your mind as you shovel ice into the plastic cup. It’s possible that there has been some miscommunication…but, that would be embarrassing for you to admit. You’ve already acted incredibly rude and like a total brat to them—to customers, at that! Ohmygod, you’ve let your personal emotions affect your work; they could report you to your manager and have you fired. 

Your breath stutters as your overcome with a chill that feels like you’ve dumped ice down your own shirt. The drink is quickly assembled, and you find yourself wishing for a painless death as you fasten an orange slice as garnish on the rim of the cup instead of a lime. A slice of sunshine, if you will.

Meekly, this time around, you offer the cup to Lando. He looks increasingly disturbed at the sudden switch of your demeanor. You watch the Brit glance at his companion, his look clearly communicating that he’s checking if Carlos agrees that you’ve lost your mind, most likely.

The Spaniard must have agreed because Lando giggles nervously, the sound glaringly revealing his discomfort, “You didn’t poison my drink, did you?”

Your brain starts to self-destruct in embarrassment. Carlos hides his face in his free hand, but the sound of pain that escapes him at the ill-timed joke is clear. To be fair, Lando looked like he regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth, but the damage was done. 

Your cheeks burn furiously, you’re simultaneously angry and disappointed in yourself. How could you allow yourself to become overrun by your emotions on the clock? It’s unprofessional and uncharacteristic of you. 

You excuse yourself shakily, “I-I am so sorry. Perdóname. I was rude to you both for no reason. I apologize sincerely for my behavior. Do not worry about paying, your drinks are on me. I hope you both enjoy yourself on the green—Buenas tardes.” [Forgive me; Good afternoon.]

Carlos and Lando are silent as you scamper into the driver’s seat, tail figuratively tucked between your legs. The ride back to the clubhouse is silent as you berate yourself for your stupidity. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to forget the way you ruined your chances with them. You already know your subconscious will play this on repeat every time you try to sleep. The cart beeps as you reverse into its assigned spot. Isabel, one of the fellow cart girls—and your best friend—waves at you with a smile as she walks over towards you. She must be the next on shift.

“You look like you’ve just been fired,” Isa’s smile has transformed into a look of concern, “¿Estás bien?” [Are you okay?]

Grabbing your belongings, you slide out of the driver's seat with a haunted look in your eyes. “You remember the two guys I told you about? From last summer? I think I just scared them away.”

“No,” Isa exhales in denial, pulling you into a hug, “There’s no way. What happened?”

“I yelled at them and insulted them for being bad at golf,” you mumble, yelping sharply as she  communicates her displeasure by slapping at your arm, “I was mad at them, okay! They were pretending to be innocent, like they had no clue they avoided me for the entire summer! They’re going to complain to the Club and get me fired because I was unprofessional and rude!”

“Ay! You don’t know that! You still served them, and apologized right?” Isa brightens further when you mention you served them for free, she ignores your pout as you rub your hand against the stinging skin of your bicep, “Then, it’s probably nothing. If they do complain, this is your first complaint ever. You won’t get fired—you will just have to wash the carts for the rest of the summer.”

You fall to your knees on the hot concrete in despair and Isa snorts at your dramatics, bending to pluck the cart keys from your pocket. 

“I’m just going to quit, inmediamente!” [Immediately!]

“If you quit, I quit,” Isa reminds you, “And, out of the two of us, I need this job. I’m broke. So, you can’t quit, unless you want me to suffer.”

“I would take care of you,” you beg, “I have my office job back in the States. You could marry me and get a green card! Let me quit!”

Isa cackles at the concept, “You hate your office job. Anyway, quitting won’t save you from your colleagues here. Don’t forget we’re all going out tomorrow night! You can’t escape this time, you promised me.”

You groan in indignation, “Is it a crime to not like clubbing every night?”

“¡Sí, lo es!,” She frowns, “It’s clubbing every night in Madrid! And, I need moral support if I have to watch Lucas flirt with Sofia. I don’t know what he sees in her.” [Yes, it is!]

Grumbling fitfully, you wish her a good shift before dragging yourself into the Clubhouse. You’re still quitting. There’s not a chance in hell that you’re coming back next summer—there is nothing worth staying for anymore. Sorry, Isa.

Out of all the shifts you’ve worked, the 8 A.M. to 3 P.M. is your least favorite. You blink blearily as you hang up your belongings in the same locker you chose four years ago, fighting the urge to rub at your eyes, with the thought of not smearing your mascara. Pinning your nametag on your pressed shirt is muscle memory, and you slide on a club-branded visor to protect your face because the UV index is concerningly high today. 

You pause to stare at the photos pinned to the inside of your locker door—they date from your very first summer till now, with familiar faces and some you haven’t seen in a while. It’s heartwarming. You haven’t posted a single one of these photos in here; your friends do it on their own (the password to your locker is apparently community knowledge—you could change it, but then you’d stop collecting them), taping Polaroids from moments on the course to shenanigans off the course to nights out in the city, with captions and notes written on the back. 

The sense of belonging and community you found here is why it was so difficult to come to a decision about leaving this place and its people behind. Your lips tilt up at a photo of you and the cart team covering your boss’s car in sticky notes two summers ago—he made you all collect the stray golf balls from the putting green that night in retaliation. And, he laughed deeply as the sprinklers drenched all of you, which is another few snapshots commemorated in your locker. 

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to leave.

“Mami,” Lilia, the receptionist on duty this morning, calls you from the locker room door, “The two really hot Formula One drivers are asking for you?”

You shoot a look of confusion her way, “huh—why me? I don’t know them?”

“Umm, yes you do?” Lilia mirrors your bafflement, “They say you’ve served them before. And that they want to apologize for something?”

“¿Qué?”

“I don’t know! I’m just repeating what they told me—” The brunette woman cuts herself short, and her eyes narrow after a moment, “Hey, if they’re bothering you, I’ll get them banned. I didn’t tell them that you were here, I just said I’d check to see if you had come in. Did they bother you? Don’t lie to me! I’ll call security and get them gone!”

“What, no! I don’t know them, or even know what Formula One is! I haven’t had a bad interaction or served any drivers—oh.” Your stomach sinks as your eyes shut woefully, “I fucked up.”

Lilia threatens to get them banned again when she sees the bronze skin of your face lose its luster. You tell her to let them know you’ll be out in a moment and to not threaten them. You step to the full-length mirror to check your appearance and adjust your uniform. Centering yourself with a few deep breaths, you turn the door handle and make your way out to the reception desk.

The squeaking of your sneakers on the tile floor only adds to your anticipation. A small part of you hopes that Carlos and Lando aren’t the Formula One drivers asking for you, and that this is all some misunderstanding. You feel your soul die inside of you as your eyes meet theirs. Their expressions look determined and apologetic, and your palms feel sweaty as you come to terms with them preparing to file a formal complaint. 

Lilia clears her throat abruptly from where she’s pretending to organize membership files. You see a blush bloom on Carlos and Lando’s cheeks as they realize that they’ve been staring at you without saying anything for longer than what’s politely appropriate, but you beat them to the chase.

“Buenos días. U-umm,” you anxiously scratch at the nape of your neck, “…Is this about yesterday? Or the tip you left last summer? It was too generous to not be an accident. It’s past our refund period, but I can reach out to the manager on duty to see if we can work something out.” [Good morning.]

“I gave you eighty euros on purpose,” Carlos states without doubt, and you feel Lilia’s stare piercing your side profile.

“Oh.”

“I wanted to speak to you about yesterday—”

You cut in, “Yesterday was my fault! I think I misunderstood you both and I overreacted. It was nothing personal—”

Lando clasps his hands together, interrupting you with an imploring tone, “It was personal, though. Which is fine, I think we deserved it. Especially if there was a misunderstanding on our part. We would’ve communicated with you clearer if we were sure that you were on the same page as us. We would appreciate it if you would allow us to make it up to you.”

Lilia kicks your ankle underneath the desk, doing enough freaking out for the both of you as you struggle to keep your face calm.

“I feel like I’m still the one at fault for the miscommunication. But—how were you planning to…smooth things over, I guess?” You ask.

“Allow us to take you to dinner tonight, and explain,” Carlos finishes, weaponizing those eyes of his, helped by Lando softening his own at you desperately for a chance.

“Oh—um, I would love to, really, but I already have plans tonight—,” You’re getting tired of being interrupted, but Lilia is quick to clear your schedule.

“No!” The raven-haired woman jumps up from her seat, slapping her hand on the counter forcefully, causing the three of you to jump. “She’s free tonight!” She smiles scaringly wide at Carlos and Lando.

Lilia turns to you and her smile and voice quiets to something genuine, “I will explain to the others about why you could not make it. Isa will understand as long as you remember to keep us both updated, yes?”

You roll your eyes, resigned , “Yes.”

You’re surprised at the tentative happiness growing in the boys’ appearances, “I guess I can do dinner tonight. What’s the plan?”

Phone numbers are exchanged and they agree to pick you up from your house at seven. They linger through their goodbyes, clearly not wanting to end the conversation. It’s flattering that they're willingly exposing their obsession with you so soon. You shoo them away with the reminder of seeing each other tonight and the fact that you are, in fact, on the clock. Lilia slaps you on the arm repeatedly as you watch them exit through the front doors with a dreamy sigh.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Lilia lets out a scream of excitement and pulls you into a hug, the two of you jumping up and down overwhelmed with joy. You’re caught by your boss Marco, who takes one glance before he turns around to head back into his office, forcing the two of you into hysterical giggles. 

You pull back from her, and you can’t quiet the large grin dancing on your lips, “I have no idea what to wear!”

Carlos texted you twenty minutes ago alerting you that they’re on the way to pick you up. Lando added that they can’t wait to see you a minute later. You were ready thirty minutes before they started heading your way. Ten minutes ago you decided to change your entire outfit. You settled on a linen cropped tank and matching maxi skirt with a pair of sandals. You fiddle with your accessories endlessly, and you do the same with a few stray curls that refuse to sit where you want them.

Grabbing your purse and phone, you rush out of your room and down the stairs to find your parents in the kitchen adding the finishing touches to their own dinner.

“¡Mija—qué bonita!” your mom gasps, wiping her hands on a towel before she pulls you closer to look at you, “Where have you been hiding this outfit?” [My daughter, how beautiful she is!]

“Má, I’ve had it for a while,” you subject yourself to her cooing and prodding as she spins you around, looking at your dad for help, who only offers you a shrug, “—I just have not had anywhere to wear it.”

“Hm? Then, what’s so special about tonight? I thought you were clubbing with your friends, no?” You avoid meeting her prying eyes, pretending to find interest in what’s simmering on the stove.

“Eh, why is there a Ferrari outside of my house?” your dad asks, drawing your attention to the front window. The sleek black convertible is parked by the curb, and your phone buzzes in your hands. Lando has informed you of their arrival, and you quickly tell them you’ll be right out to avoid them coming to the door. You don’t know if they’re “meet the parents” caliber yet, Ferrari or not.

“Don’t worry about it, Papà. I’ll text you when I’m on my way back tonight,” you press kisses to both of your parents’ cheeks, “Save some food for me to take to work tomorrow, please?”

Your mom pinches your ear, “Ay! You are going on a date? Finally! Is he handsome on top of being rich? A Ferrari is okay as long as he is as beautiful as the car, you know?”

Your dad makes a noise of complaint as he follows you both towards the door, “A Ferrari is more than okay as long as he respects you and treats you well. And, if he buys me a Ferrari too—ask him for me.” 

You fuss at them, flustered but smug as you ignore your dad’s request, and you turn to smirk at your mom, “Papà, I plan to find outfit they treat me well tonight. Mamá. They’re both gorgeous.”

Your dad blinks in confusion as your mom crows in delight, “¡Mija! I knew I raised you properly! ¡Vas, vas! Have fun and you have to tell me everything when you get back, yes?” [My girl!; Go, go!]

“Sí, Mamá. ¡Muchos besos, te quiero!” You slip out of the door, the sound of your mother explaining that you’ve garnered the interest of two men to your father fading behind you as you walk to the car. [Yes, mom. Kisses, I love you!]

Carlos and Lando are waiting for you on the curb, the engine purring lowly behind them. Your gait slows as you near, and the Spaniard reaches out to press his lips to the back of your hand fleetingly. 

They’ve dressed well; Lando in a light gray, short-sleeved, collared, v-neck that rests untucked over white chinos and a pair of gray sneakers to match. He’s sprinkled with bracelets, a few of them decorate his toned forearms on both wrists, and there’s a singular silver chain peeking from the cut of his shirt. Carlos is dressed similarly with the white chinos, yet he’s chosen a light blue button-up with the first few buttons undone, and a pair of dress shoes. His outfit is complimented by a dazzling watch. 

You murmur a greeting to both men, unable to hold eye contact with either of them for long. It’s one thing to fantasize that you have a chance with men clearly out of your league, and it’s another thing to have to muster up the confidence to speak to them outside of your uniform. 

Lando impatiently shifts on his feet as the older man keeps hold of your hand for longer than necessary. When you’re released, Lando takes it a step further and pulls you into a hug, his body heated and solid against yours. A shiver runs down your spine when his hand rests on the exposed skin of the small of your back. You hum, pleased as you inhale the velvety scent of his cologne, missing the closeness as he pulls away from you a beat later.

You step back, your heart thudding as you quip, “I didn’t know we were on hugging terms already.”

“I’m sorry,” Lando flushes easily, and Carlos chuckles, “I should’ve asked if it was okay.”

“I liked it,” you smile at him, pretending as if your heart isn’t pounding forcefully from the brief embrace, “I-I mean, it was fine, don’t worry.”

The Brit hums at your response, his eyes drifting along your form before meeting yours again with a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. His blush recedes as yours strengthens, now apparent on your darker skin. 

“Lovely house,” he withdraws, and you’re thankful he avoided commenting on the evident flush he invoked with nothing more than a hug and a pass of his eyes.

“Thank you, my parents bought it and moved here after I started university,” you explain needlessly, “They’re pretty great. They were the ones who made me apply for the position at La Moraleja. So, really, it’s them you have to credit with us meeting, I suppose.”

“We also have to thank them for having a beautiful daughter,” Carlos alleges smoothly.

You fluster, “I-I’ll pass the message along. Both of you are very handsome, but I think you guys hear that often.”.

“Don’t worry. It sounds sweeter coming from you,” Lando edits his point with an impish grin, “—and from Carlos too, sometimes.”

“Don’t be a brat, Lando,” the Spaniard’s voice is light as he entertains the younger, “Unfortunately, I think we will be late if we continue to stand here and flirt in the street,” Carlos says, and his eyes shift to look past you and at your house, “—And, I think your dad might come outside and kill us. Which would not be very pleasant, in my opinion.”

You spin around, chagrined at the sight of your dad watching the three of you with a harsh stare. 

“Yes! Let’s get going, I would hate to be late. Ignore him, please.” Lando waves at your dad anyways, endearing himself to you further, “And, you won’t have to worry about being murdered as long as you get him a Ferrari.”

The two men startle into laughter at that, and you hold your hands up candidly, “What? His words, not mine!”

You didn’t account for the oddness of one of you sitting in the backseat, but Lando assigns himself to the back, claiming that you have “passenger princess” rights. 

The wind ruffles through your curls aimlessly as Carlos drives towards your destination. The ride is filled with endless chatter and flirting. A smile is constantly on your face as the three of you speak through topics easily. There’s not a single time you feel like an outsider, even though it’s clear how familiar they are with each other. 

The restaurant you find yourself in isn’t screaming its extravagance at you, which is surprising. While it’s dimly lit, and you can hear live music thrumming through the air from somewhere deeper inside over the lively chatter—it feels like a classic restaurant, intimate and comfortable. Like somewhere you could go for a nice dinner often.

The hostess straightens upwards with recognition when she spots Carlos and she greets the three of you good naturedly before disappearing to check if your table is ready. 

The Spaniard notices the surprise on your face, “My family and I have dined here since I was young. You have never come here before? ”

You shake your head, “I’m a little jealous, if I’m being honest,” Carlos tilts his head, listening, “I’m mad I didn’t discover this place sooner. The atmosphere is amazing!”

The hostess returns, gesturing for you all to follow after her and Lando grasps your hand to catch your attention as you walk, “If you think the vibe is amazing, just wait until you try the food.”

The table is not in direct sight of anyone besides the kitchen, clearly a spot meant for privacy. Your hidden behind a half wall and a screen overgrown with plants, and the volume of the restaurant seems quieter through the barrier. You lean back in your chair as the three of you wrap up the discussion about yesterday’s conflict.

“I feel incredibly stupid now,” you chuckle, embarrassed. The brown skin of your face burns hot. You focus on the empty wine glass in front of you, avoiding their eyes plainly.

“No,” Carlos’s voice is stern, the serious tone shocking you into looking at him, “Do not be rude to yourself—you are not stupid.”

You stare, dumbfounded, reeling as you process the manner in which he shut down your negative self-talk. If his words totally dissolved your mortification over your immature reaction to seeing them again, you might have thought harder about how that was kind of hot of him to do.

“Aren’t you studying for a PhD?” Lando asks rhetorically, “I think that literally means you’re not stupid.”

You scoff lightly—feeling humored instead of humiliated—at how easily he swept away the tension with a light-hearted comment. The Brit doesn’t know how many people have enlightened you with the knowledge that common sense is, unfortunately, uncommon in post-grad. But, you’ll let his words wash away your self-deprecation lest this turns into an unsolicited therapy session instead of a date an apology dinner.

“Fine. I’m not stupid—but, you can’t deny that it wasn’t a little dumb of me to assume that you guys had lied to me about visiting the golf club every year. And, it was a little more dumb of me to make my decision about working here for another season just because there was a chance that I could see you guys—never mind.” Your teeth clack together forcefully as you slam your mouth shut.

The duo straighten up at the sudden end to your sentence, brains quickly filling in the blanks for them. Lando’s poorly attempting to hide his satisfied smile behind his hand and Carlos’s eyes are bright with understanding. You’ve learned your lesson about making hasty assumptions but you don’t think it’s foolish to deduce this means that they’re actually interested in you too, this time around.

“Ah. Well, we should not have assumed that you knew we were Formula One drivers, which maybe was obvious from how you spoke to us,” Carlos shrugs his shoulders, leveling the blame, “And, I think it’s sweet that you were hoping to run into us again.”

“Mmm,” you hum nervously, “I think it’s delusional.”

One of their shoes knocks against yours underneath the table and you jump in surprise. Carlos’s chest shakes with a silent laugh and his eyebrow raises at you pressingly.

“We should’ve asked for your number last summer,” Lando adds nonchalantly. 

You rattle at his boldness, and you’re given a moment to ponder that as the waiter stops to pour you and Carlos a glass of white wine (Lando refused). You take a brief sip, humming pleasantly at the light and easy flavor, the live music and easy conversation floating through the air providing you a reprieve from your immersion in the two men. 

Your attention is recaptured as you watch Carlos offer Lando a chance to taste from his glass. 

Earlier, the Brit had told you he dislikes the taste of most alcohols when the waiter stepped away to grab the bottle Carlos requested. Yet, Lando accepts, not without making his distaste apparent with an adorable frown. He takes the tiniest sip possible with a look of apprehension and recoils from the glass as he swallows, his nose scrunching in disgust as he shakes his head to further sell his distate. 

Carlos rolls his eyes and laughs, revealing to you how used he is to Lando’s dramatics. He raises a hand to rub at the short hair on the nape of the younger’s neck in comfort.

The look on your face must be cloyingly sweet if the light dust of pink that rises to the Brit’s cheeks when he realizes you’ve watched the entire interaction, is meaningful. Carlos’s eyes become intense when he spots how Lando curls into himself shyly under your eyes. The Spaniard whispers, his volume low enough for only Lando to hear and you wish you knew exactly what was said, because it deepens the tint of his cheeks to a furious red. 

You figure you’ll save him from his torment by bringing up the important stuff.

“So, you only have a month of summer vacation,” you start, fingers fiddling with the edge of a fan-folded napkin, “Which is in August. That’s…so short. My fall semester starts the first week of September.”

Silence falls as they digest the underlying meaning of your sentence. Is it in everyone’s best interest to start something that has to end so soon? Is it in your best interest to risk catching feelings for two athletes (celebrity-athletes, at that) during the last month of your break? 

“A month is a long time,” the younger man starts, his blue-green eyes intent, “We’ll just have to make the most out of it, right? I want to get to know you more, and I have a feeling that the three of us will have a fun time together—If you want to give it a try.”

“A ‘fun time’? Like—like a fling?” Your expression remains indifferent as you ask. You need them to clarify what they want out of this without revealing your emotions. It’s only proper for you to prevent any future miscommunication or misunderstanding about this; you learned from your earlier mistake.

Lando’s earnest gaze has lost some of its shine, and Carlos’s eyes now seem guarded.

“Calling it a fling is harsh,” the Spaniard responds, “It’s more of a summer romance, no?”

Your laugh isn’t genuine, but they don’t know you well enough to discern that, “Alright, I’ll give our ‘summer romance’ a chance. Using a synonym doesn’t change the definition, you know?” 

Lando cocks his head at you, staring deeply. It feels like he’s trying to puzzle you out, and you stare back in feigned confusion.

“It’s nothing,” He relaxes, leaning back in his chair and moving Carlos’s glass out of the way as he sees the waiter nearing the table with your appetizers, “I just find it odd that you called yourself stupid earlier.” You don’t know what to make of that, but it’s forgotten as the starters are devoured and the conversation shifts into them getting to know you and vice versa.

The older man with them at the golf course last year was Carlos’s father, who is a two-time Rally World Champion. You’re surprised to learn that they’ve only been dating for around a year. Lando says he developed a crush on Carlos when they were teammates at Mclaren, but he was afraid of ruining their relationship and potentially, his career, if he confessed–so he kept quiet. Carlos didn’t realize he was romantically interested in Lando until he signed his contract with Ferrari. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupt, “If you guys have only been together for a year, did you get together before or after you saw me at the golf course for the first time?”

“A year and three months,” the Spaniard corrects with a serene smile, “Our anniversary was in May.”

The Brit continues for him, “—Which means we started dating about three months before we saw you. Give or take a few weeks.”

You gave a low whistle of surprise—three months into their relationship and they were on the same page about chasing after you. Since then, they had several serious conversations about adding a third to their relationship but hadn’t found or looked for anybody they’d consider to try with. Besides you.

Obviously, they like playing golf; Lando is abysmal, and Carlos is not bad at it. Carlos has two sisters, Lando has a brother and two sisters. Both of them are middle children. Lando is a picky eater, and hates fish and seafood. Carlos will eat anything Lando doesn’t. Lando founded a company with his best friend. Carlos is a Real Madrid fanatic. Lando occasionally streams on Twitch. Carlos enjoys surfing and cycling.

“I’m sorry for saying that you guys sucked at golf yesterday,” you apologize sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” the Brit says, unperturbed, “I do suck at golf. I just wasn’t expecting to hear it come from you.”

“I suck less at golf,” the older man states, “But, if I was good, I would not have been in the sand pit in the first place, no?”

They visit Spain often because family is important to Carlos. Lando’s loved like another son by Carlos’s family and Carlos is loved the same by Lando’s family. Lando is needy. Carlos likes being needed. Carlos is mildly possessive. Lando is too self-critical. Carlos makes the best pancakes. Lando wants to build a beautiful vintage car collection.

They want to see you again. You enjoyed dinner more than you thought was possible. 

They defrosted your nerves and allowed your personality to shine through. It helps that they were actively listening as you complained and gushed over your studies, told anecdotes of the shenanigans you and the others got up to on the golf course, and spoke about your future outlooks. They didn’t mind your lack of knowledge about Formula One and explained the sport in detail to you. They were determined to figure out what made you mad, what made you happy, what made you laugh, what made you shy—and, what made you go pink.

It didn’t take them long to discern that staring at your lips is the trick. When they made that discovery, they weaponized it the entire night. While one of them played with the rings on your fingers or tucked a curl behind your ear, the other managed to fluster you by letting their eyes wander for a few seconds before meeting yours again with increasing intensity. You experienced heart failure several times, and had to ask them to repeat themselves more frequently thanks to their psychological warfare.

Your heart feels like it may cease to function again as they walk you to your doorstep. The lights inside the house are off, you returned later than you thought you would. Your parents left the porch light on for you and it casts an amber warmth. Carlos and Lando don’t invite themselves into your space as you dig your house keys out of your purse, ever the polite men. The sound of your keys jingling harmonizes with your triumphant hum as you pull them out. 

You face the boys, placing your hand on the doorknob behind you, waiting for them to speak. 

“Are we forgiven for unintentionally leading you to believe that we led you on and wasted your time?” Lando blurts out.

You knock your head back against the doorframe, abashed, shutting your eyes to dispel the HD playback your brain gifts you with. “If you both agree to never bring it up again, I’ll forgive you.”

“I suddenly do not know what we’re talking about,” Carlos nods seriously, and Lando echoes the sentiment.

You release the doorknob and take the few steps towards them. As you expected, their eyes simultaneously drift to stare at your mouth. You lightly place a hand on Carlos’s shoulder before leaning up and brushing your lips across his cheek in the lightest ghost of a kiss, before moving to Lando and doing the same.

You carefully backpedal to the door turning to insert your key into the lock, before you look back at them. Your heart flutters at the sight of Carlos, who’s frozen, standing all wide-eyed and pressing his fingers to his cheek like he’s unsure if he imagined the kiss. Lando however, looks hungry. His eyes are the darkest you’ve seen tonight, and they’re locked on how you teasingly flick your tongue across your bottom lip.

“While we may only have a month to spend together—it doesn’t mean I’m easy. I, at least!—need a second date before I let you do anything more than stare at my lips and hold my hand. It might take three dates before I even let you kiss my cheek,” you tease with a joking shrug of your shoulders.

“It’s a good thing that you have my phone number,” the lock clicks open, and you push the door open, “If you don’t use it to set up another date, I think I’ll have no choice but to never forgive you guys.”

“We’ll be using it,” Carlos asserts, recovered from the daze you left him in.

“Hm, good. Text me when you get home.” You step in your entryway, waving your fingers at the two of them leisurely, “Buenas noches.” [Goodnight.]

They mimic your goodbye and you shut the door, clicking the lock. You nosily peek through the peephole to spy on their reactions. Carlos tugs Lando into a bear hug, their wide smiles hidden as they press into each other and the sharpest pitch squeal you’ve heard from Lando travels through the front door. You cover your own giggle with a hand as you watch the two of them kiss and almost skip down your driveway back to the car. You press your back to the door with a deep sigh, a lovestruck smile painting your face while you lay limp to let your heartbeat slow to a normal speed.

The hallway light flicks on and you shriek as your mom stares at you with a deranged smile on her lips, “Tell me everything!”

“Mamá! What are you doing up? It’s late!” You exclaim, straightening upwards with your hands on your hips, failing at distracting her from how you were weak in the knees a couple of seconds ago. “It’s okay, mija! I’ll start a fresh pot of coffee for us and you can tell me all about your date!” She rushes forward, grabbing your hand to pull you into the kitchen.

Ironically, the second date ends up being late night mini golf. Even better, you destroy them at it. It wasn’t an easy feat, they made plenty of attempts to sabotage and distract you; whether it was yelling, spooking, poking, or prodding at you as you readied your putt, but it wasn’t enough to give them a chance of catching up. 

You figure more of your mistakes were from being unable to stop laughing as the two performed atrociously. Carlos ended up polluting every water feature with golf balls and Lando couldn’t manage to finish a single hole in under 8 strokes—the highest par was 6. You patted Lando on the back consolingly, telling him to find comfort in the fact that they’re equally terrible at putt-putt golf.

The two seemed surprised at your finesse with a club, almost like they’d forgotten you work on a golf course. You may not be a caddy, but you’ve had plenty of time to work on perfecting your technique. You did well enough to place sixth on the leaderboard, the employees said that Carlos’ score might be the worst they’ve ever seen.

With their egos severely bruised, you convinced them to soothe the loss over with ice cream at a neighboring parlor. Lando was satisfied with plain vanilla and Carlos with a scoop of dulce de leche. You elected for cookies and cream, but found yourself being fed their flavors as well. 

The sugary treats were delicious. Watching them stare at your lips pursed around a spoonful of ice cream was far more delectable. Lando broke the fourth time you managed to dot a bit of vanilla above your upper lip. He choked on a whine before leaning into your space. He hesitated a hair’s width away from your lips, his shuddering exhales mixing with yours, his eyes searching for approval. Your eyes fluttered shut and Lando closed the gap. 

His lips were soft and chilled, a result of the ice cream. Warmth blossomed in your chest as you leaned into the kiss, the taste of vanilla lingering in the embrace. His hand raised to cradle your cheek as your lips brushed together languidly, the sound of your heart racing within your chest fading out as you become absorbed by the kiss. 

Lando pulls away, falling back into his seat with his chest heaving. You stare after him with wide eyes, jolting out of it when you notice you’ve dropped your spoon into your lap, Carlos’s dulce de leche ice cream spilling onto your thigh. 

“Do I get to lick this off your thigh since Lando got to kiss it off your lips?” Carlos asks, his tone half genuine, half facetious.

You kick at his ankle underneath the booth and he throws his hands up placatingly. 

“Wait–,” you anxiously flit your eyes around the parlor, “—you shouldn’t have kissed me here Lando. Out in public? Aren’t people going to recognize—”

“We’ve been the only people in here for the past thirty minutes or so,” Lando interrupts, gathering the near-empty dishes and balled-up napkins, “They’ve also been closed for twenty minutes. When you went to the bathroom when we came in, Carlos and I signed something for the owner who was more than happy to keep things quiet for his second favorite Spanish Formula One driver.”

“Second favorite?” Carlos furrows his eyebrows at his boyfriend, his umber eyes adorably confused.

“Mate,” the Brit scoffs, “I might be in love with you ‘n all but we're not going to act like Fernando isn’t the best thing that came out of Spain, besides churros.”

The unfavored Spaniard holds his hand to his chest in betrayal before his eyes narrow and he moves to assault Lando with a pinch to his chest. While you’d love to continue watching this disguised act of foreplay, you would rather be a participant than a voyeur.

“¡Cabrónes!” The two freeze, heads snapping to look at you as your voice cuts through the catfight.

“I think the owner would be even happier if you licked the ice cream off my thigh outside of his parlor so he could finally lock up, sí?”

How Lando kisses with a desperate hunger, Carlos kisses with a ravaging heat. Like he wants to roast your nerve endings with every brush of his lips against yours.

The fiery press of his mouth stokes the arousal building in your navel. His hand tangles in your hair as he directs the tilt of your head. A stuttered whimper slips from your mouth into his as your tongues glide together, a buzzing sensation tingling down your spine as his other hand squeezes your waist tightly.

He walks you backward towards the bed, his lips devouring yours as you wrap your arms around his neck, attempting to pull your bodies even closer than they are. You stumble, gasping when his hand palms your ass and it’s the first time your lips have separated since Carlos claimed them in the hallway.  He tumbles into you as his feet stumble around yours, the darkness of the bedroom not bettering the situation. He nearly sends you both to the floor instead of the plush mattress if not for Lando catching your body and a hand firmly pressed to Carlos’s chest to hold him upright, expletives falling from your mouths until balance is restored.

You rest your forehead on the older man’s collarbone as you abruptly giggle at being so kiss drunk you forgot how to backpedal. The two drivers have no choice but to laugh at the sound of your amusement, Lando cackling and Carlos’s chest shaking with his laughter. 

“I’m not against fucking on the floor,” Lando voices, the sound of his grin loud enough for you to visualize, “But—can we at least have our first time with you on this extremely comfortable bed?”

“First time?” You raise a brow jokingly, nonchalantly pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall to the floor, “That implies you’re thinking there’s gonna be a second.”

The Spaniard steps away to click the nightstand lamp on, the room partially bathed in warm yellow light. Your eyes adjust seamlessly to the low lighting, allowing you to revel in the sight of him appreciating your exposed skin, even when covered with a plain black bra—you’ve never been more thankful to be wearing a matching pair of panties.

The younger man unclasps the latch of the garment, dragging the straps down your arms, goosebumps rising in the wake of his fingertips, and the bra lands atop your shirt. You feel his breath cascade heatedly along your left shoulder before his lips purse delicately against the brown skin. 

He nips closer to the crook of your neck, lowly murmuring, “I know we’ll be having you for more than a third time.”

Surely feeling left out, Carlos unzips your skirt, tugging it down your hips and offering a hand for you to hold as you step free of it, “Many more times. But for tonight,” the older man pauses, toying with the band of your panties, looking at you with a smirk, “We must settle on saving the floor for round two. After we have caused you to ruin the sheets.”

Internally, you scream in elation. Two men eager to fuck you stupid, for the rest of your summer—you pray they’re not bluffing. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had sex good enough for a repeat performance. Externally, you shimmy out of your panties and tug at the hem of Carlos’ button-up once you’re bare. 

“If you want me to ruin your sheets, I’m pretty sure that requires you both to be less clothed.”

Lando’s free of everything but his briefs in a handful of seconds while Carlos struggles to unbutton his shirt. The younger pulls you into bed, guiding you to lay on your back as he holds himself over you, dipping to kiss you messily, unafraid to let his moans knit with yours. By the time the older man has lost his clothes and joined the two of you on the bed, the Brit’s focus has traveled down the length of your neck to your chest. Reddened marks bloom on your bronzed skin, mottled across your decolletage in a pattern only known as desire. 

He laves his tongue against a pebbled nipple, his teeth scraping the sensitive bud, delighting in the way your body arches upwards into his mouth. Your hand pulls tightly at brunette curls, his resulting whimper at the burn of his scalp muffled around your breast, his eyes screwing shut. You loosen your grasp, unable to determine if that was a positive reaction and you’re pleased to see his eyes fly open, his gaze demanding more. His large hand envelopes your wrist, attempting to have you further mess up his hair, but the motion is halted when Carlos cocks Lando’s head backward with an unrelenting fist. 

The younger man shudders, his eyes rolling at the rough treatment. He rises to lessen the pressure of his boyfriend’s grasp, settling into a kneel between your legs with Carlos pressed to his back. The burn of his scalp subsides when the hold weakens, the tension leaving the younger man in a breath and his head droops back on a broad shoulder.

The Spaniard captivates your attention as he presses a kiss to Lando’s jaw, moving the same hand that was in his boyfriend’s hair to splay against his abdomen, a finger dipping to poke at his bellybutton, causing Lando to jolt with a whine. Carlos coos, calming the man with a rub of hand along his torso.  

“Don’t let him fool you. He likes a bit of pain,” Carlos tweaks Lando’s nipple demonstratively, letting the sight of the younger man’s arousal jumping underneath his briefs accompanied by a strangled moan speak for itself. “He’s a brat, even if he likes to pretend otherwise. A little sting is enough to remind him how to act…most times. Right, Landito?”

The man moves to hide his face in Carlos’s neck as if it’ll hide the sight of him nodding in confirmation. It doesn’t help that the meek “yes” he breathes into the muscle isn’t muffled at all.

“And because he wants to be good,” Carlos continues, pulling at Lando’s waistband and releasing it to snap against flushed, pink skin, “He’s going to keep himself busy with you while I see if I can still taste the dulce on your thigh. Is that okay with you?”

You gulp, anticipatory. “M-more than okay.”

The younger man's eyes are all pupil, ringed with stormy-colored irises as he’s lowered by your side. You were contemplating teasing him about his brat complex—but the haze of his eyes causes you to reconsider.

The gap of his teeth remains adorable even as he bites his lips, the plush skin reddened and raw from where he’s already scraped the skin off. Prolonged eye contact from him seems impossible—his gaze flits away from yours after a handful of seconds. He struggles to decide where to look, happening upon your lips, zoning out with a yearning pout. Lando is clueless to the effect of his fixation; he reignites the redness on your cheeks and the skipping of your heartbeat.

Frightened by Carlos’s spit-slicked lips brushing along the bone of your ankle, you twitch, breaking Lando’s trance. 

The Brit’s blush deepens when he notices you’ve been watching him stare without saying a word. He muffles a mortified whimper into a pillow, smushing his face so deeply into the fabric you worry he may strangle himself. You glance at Carlos for assistance and the man only nods in the younger’s direction, continuing to drag his mouth up your legs, pausing to suckle the skin of your thighs and smirking when he feels the muscles flex underneath his lips.

“Lando, chico,” you croon, petting a hand through the curls at the crown of his head, “Look at me.”

He peeks an eye at you shyly, turning to face you fully, reassured at the enamored look you cover him with.

“Besamé,” you murmur, knowing it’s something Lando’s heard plenty of times from the man nestled between your legs. [Kiss me.] 

The younger understood, rushing to press his lips to yours filthly. The frantic energy is winsome, your chest tightening at the sounds of him whining and mewling needily into your mouth. He licks into your mouth insistently, his attention devoted to tasting the remaining sweetness of ice cream on your tongue. From below, Carlos hums as his tongue polishes off the remaining stickiness on your bronzed skin.

The sounds they rip from you are muffled by the younger man, but the grunt of annoyance Carlos makes as the lingering dulce de leche flavoring of your thigh disappears is clear. He drags his tongue against your labia in one firm stroke, your abdomen undulating at the unexpected attention to your cunt. He smacks his lips, savoring, before a moan rumbles through his chest.

“Better than the ice cream,” he announces, the brown of his iris darkened with greed. 

Lando frees your lips to look at his boyfriend pleadingly, and you take the time to breathe. He left you lightheaded as he kissed every ounce of oxygen from your lungs.

“ ‘wanna taste, ” Lando begs, and Carlos pulls up to meld their lips together, and you're briefly hypnotized by the muscles of his arms contracting through the movement.

The most reedy whine escapes the curly-haired man as Carlos shares the taste of your arousal with him. Your head is filled with the sound of blood rushing through your ears, buffering at the sight of the two men feasting on your essence—what were you thinking when you agreed to be a summer romance? You’re never going to be able to recover from this, and they haven’t even fucked you yet.

They separate, Lando’s chest heaving as he licks along his lips in search of any faint traces of your taste. Carlos resituates himself between your thighs, his voice carrying a firm edge, “Wait your turn, cariño. Keep being good for me—for us, yes?”

The younger man seems small as he nods, appearing a little empty-headed at the command, but he obeys. Turning back to peck your lips sweetly, Lando trails downward to leave a few marks of his own along the column of your neck.

You grab his jaw lightly, “No marks—,” the light in his eyes dulls slightly, “—that high up.” He brightens and lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nipping at your skin, energized by your nails scratching along his scalp.

Your mouth parts in a silent gasp as Carlos joins in. He laps between your folds sloppily, his nose knocking your clit with every bob pf his head. The hand that isn’t buried in brunette curls fists in Carlos’s locks of hair, holding him steady while he prods at your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

Your brain buzzes, toes curling as the older man eats you out, the sounds of him enjoying his meal reverberating through the air, harmonizing with your cries and Lando’s snuffles as he toys with your nipples.

Carlos presses a finger inside, thrusting shallowly against your fluttering walls and his mouth purses around your bud, the suckle of his lips puppeteering your spine into arching and your hips into bucking. His stubble scratches your thighs, the scrape searing but adding to your gratification.

He curls upwards, dragging roughly through the clenching of your cunt, adding a second finger that your walls swallow voraciously. The ache of the stretch is calmed quickly by the ample leaking of your arousal and the constant attention of a tongue on your clit as Carlos steadfastly hunts for your sweet spot.

Your mewls are ragged, forced from your lungs with every press of his fingers. Your eyes flutter as pleasure singes your skin, you find the strength to hold them open as you lock gazes with the man between your legs. His eyes are characteristically wide, but they scream his commitment to making you scream.

There’s no fighting. Your head falls back when his fingers graze near that pleasure point and your eyes screw shut when he perfects the angle and massages your sweet spot with his fingertips. 

A shrill shriek leaves your lips as the penetration becomes unrelenting. He constantly presses on the button that has your thighs tightening around his head, but the temptation of taking his final breath between your legs has him doubling down, suckling at your clit forcefully as he prods a third finger inside of you.

Lando chokes, crying out loudly as your hand yanks at his curls, his hips jumping to grind along your hip, his briefs damp from where he’s been leaking. Carlos’s laugh as he watches his boyfriend desperately hump in search of friction, vibrates around your swollen bud, forcing out a squeal nearly loud enough to drown out the sound of your slick squelching around his fingers.

Abruptly, he pulls away. His digits slip from your walls, your entrance left to pucker hungrily around air. Carlos’s stare is loud as he fights the urge to press inside of you again.

The lack of stimulation is maddening. You free your hold on Lando, and he collapses onto you, body pinning yours to the bed—his weight steadying as you restrain your anger at the sudden halt.

You blink deliriously at the sight of Carlos tearing a condom wrapper open with his teeth. The slowing rhythm of your heart speeds up as you revel at the image of his hand rolling the condom down his hardened length, flushed and throbbing with arousal. 

It’s daunting. It’s been a long time since you’ve last had sex. At some point, you decided to prioritize protecting your peace rather than dealing with men who aren’t going to do anything other than ruin your PH and fail to make you cum. It doesn’t help that Carlos is well-endowed; you need to come to terms that you’re going to have a limp after this.

Lando sits upwards to watch his boyfriend drag his length through your folds, moaning in unison with you as Carlos’s tip brushes along your pulsing clit. The Spaniard grunts at the heated slide before resting at the gape of your entrance, but he looks up to you for your go ahead. 

“I-it’s been a while,” you admit tensely, covering your eyes with the back of your hand as anxiety builds in your navel.

“How long is ‘a while?’” Carlos asks, without a single hint of judgment. Lando pulls your hand off your face tenderly, revealing their compassionate expressions.

“You remember how I joked about not kissing you guys until a second date?” You toy with Lando’s fingers distractedly, and they confirm their recollection, “Well—there hasn’t been anybody that’s made it past a second date in a long time.”

“Carlos is gentle,” Lando reassures you, halting your play with his fingers to hold your hand comfortingly, “I promise. And he listens very well, and pays attention, and goes at your pace. If he doesn’t, I’ll beat his ass.”

You giggle at that, your nerves fading as Carlos yelps at the threat. This exact kind of behavior is the kind you can see yourself falling in love with.

“Ay! Yes—Lando has permission to knock some sense into me if I hurt you,” Carlos jokes, pausing momentarily before his tone becomes hopeful, “And, we would really like to be the ones who make it to a third date—I’ll follow your pace, I swear.”

The knot in your stomach tightens for another reason besides arousal.

“I believe you,” you murmur, relaxing back into the bed, raising your’s and Lando’s joined hands to press a kiss to his wrist. Lando hums sweetly at you, laying at your side again, his free hand cradling your waist, thumb brushing calmingly on your rich brown skin. 

Carlos breaches you softly—gently, as Lando said he would. The three fingers he stretched you with was a safe play. If it were only two, you would be feeling a sharp pain instead of an ache. The burn is delicious, your inhale stutters as the head of his cock pops into you.

“Joder,” Carlos curses, his jaw clenched tightly, his grip tight on your thighs, as he inches deeper. His eyes trace your complexion attentively for any sign that it’s too much. “Relax, mi corázon—let me in.”

The sweet endearment encourages you to pant through a tiny whimper. Lando’s hand pets along your navel as he sweeps a kiss across your brow bone.

“‘s big isn’t he?” He murmurs, voice breathy, “Fuck—it’s gonna be worth it when he’s all the way inside you, yeah? Stretching you out just right, touching spots you didn’t know existed. It hurts a little, I know, love. But, it hurts so good, doesn’t it? I don’t know how that fits inside me every time I take it, but it’s worth it.”

You whimper fitfully—you want to watch Carlos make him take it.

The discomfort twisting your brows lightens slightly, and Carlos pulls out before he sinks another inch in. The shallow stroke sends an appealing rush of sharp pleasure skittering up your spine and it pools at the back of your head.

A real moan is forced from your chest, and your eyes open to see Lando tucking a curl behind your ear, smiling knowingly.

“Yeah, that felt good didn’t it, baby?” You can’t solely credit the burst of pleasure behind your eyes to Carlos’s barely there thrusts as he works deeper. The praise and pet names Lando seems keen to utilize should be accounted for as well. The Brit presses down on your navel with an astoundingly large palm.

His lips graze your ear as he whispers, “Don’t you wanna feel him here? All deep inside of you?” He pauses briefly, letting your imagination work before continuing. “I feel him there when he fucks me. Like he’s making room for himself, yeah? Gonna open up for him? For me? Gonna let yourself feel good, sunshine?”

Carlos’s hips meet the backs of your thighs as he bottoms out.

Choked gasps leave you and Carlos. Your skin alight, your pores flaring raw. His calloused hands rub over your hips and thighs, one settling where Lando’s was previously holding at your waist and the other amply squeezing the curve of your ass.

Behind your closed eyes, you see the white flare of heat zinging through every nerve ending, your body overstimulated at receiving pleasure in the highest, unfiltered form. Lando was right—it feels like he made room for himself. The weight of him is searing, your walls fluttering frantically as they adjust.

Your most conscious thought is realizing why orgasms are referred to as “little deaths.” Because, if him fucking into you for the first time is this good? Cumming around him has to feel akin to ascending to heaven.

The younger man turns your head towards him with a gentle nudge of your cheek. His eyes peer into you searchingly. You don’t know what he’s trying to find. You’re more concerned with coaxing him into another kiss.

You raise up with an unsteady arm, toppling forward to press your lips to his, but you miss and land near the corner of his mouth. At your disappointed grown, Lando moves to kiss you chastely, before he looks at Carlos.

The older man’s eyes are silken as they dance between you and his boyfriend. It takes Lando tugging him forward with a hand on his bicep for him to understand that you’re pining for a kiss from him as well.

The Spaniard catches the strangled mewl you make with his lips, the change in angle as he hovers over you amplifying the pressure of him within you tenfold. Delicately, he leads the dance of tongues, using the lip lock to distract you from the barely there roll of his hips.

It works, the nervous tension that had gathered in your core unraveling completely at the sensual rock. The grinds remain tender as he gradually works you up to weightier strokes and a quicker rhythm.

Your lips uncouple when your head lulls backwards, a drawn-out purr rolling underneath your chest. With your knees bending to cradle Carlos’s hips, you cast lidded eyes to the Spaniard, bathing underneath his appreciative gaze and the blissful twist to his brows as he rolls into you.

“Carlitos, fóllame,” you murmur, watching his eyes widen in surprise, “I said it’s been a long time, not that I’m going to break.” [Fuck me.]

Lando grins beside you, quieting his laughter by pressing his face into your hair. The older man flusters, a red flush spreading across his chest, and he reminds you that he’d promised to be gentle.

His dedication to his word is attractive and you’re thankful he followed through. You tell him as such, but not without another teasing jab, “Thank you for being gentle. However, I think continuing to be gentle when I ask for more might decrease your chances at a third date.”

Lando jerks upwards to gape at the two of you, frazzled, “That’s not even funny! Babe—do better!”

The brown-eyed man doesn’t entertain either of you with a verbal response.

A bitten-off shout is punched from your chest as his hips slam into you with vigor, your vision crossing as the older man settles into a hard pace. His cock threatens to slip out of you with every stroke out and your body jolts with every ruthless thrust inside, the maddening force turning your mind syrupy with arousal and lightning-hot pleasure.

Endless praise is voiced by Carlos between every rough grunting pant he releases. Your brain is filled with seductive words; bien chica, so tight, you sound so pretty, you can take it. 

You can only hope he hears your gratitude through your repeated moans. You dig your nails into his muscled back as he grazes your sweet spot every couple of thrusts. The sharp pain only has Carlos’s hips stuttering for a moment. He growls, his grip turns bruising as he fucks into you with abandon. Your lungs burn and your legs shake. You squirm beneath him fruitlessly, attempting to buck away from the overwhelming grind, but you're pinned underneath his body weight. Your escape attempt is noticed by both men.

Lando tuts, pressing you down into the mattress with an arm around your waist to prevent any future attempt of you shifting. “Don’t run from it, sunshine.”

Carlos laughs sardonically, and you squeal as shame crawls along your synapses at the noise. He changes the angle of his thrusts to bully that spongy spot inside of you relentlessly, “It’s not too much, no? I thought you said you didn’t want me to be gentle?”

Your body curls in distress, mouth-parted wide at the excruciating attention paid to your most nirvanic point . You try to squeeze your walls tighter around him, to afflict a hint of the unbearable pleasure he’s wreaked upon you. Your shocked to discover that he’s fucked you open so well that your cunt can’t do much more than take what he gives you.

Your wetness squelches with his motions, a thin layer of sweat accumulates on your skin and steams the air around you. The scent of sex and aftertaste of ice cream permeates your mind as your orgasm peaks. 

It bursts through you, the intensity slamming through you like a train. Your body falls limp as the pleasure overrides your control, the unrestrained screams of their names are piercing as the waves brutally crash over you. 

Carlos slams his lips to yours, your teeth clacking together painfully and you can only pant into his mouth as he messily kisses you through your orgasm and steamrolls into his own with his strongest pounding thrusts.

Spanish curses are hidden by your mouth as he lays into you, like he’s not quite done molding you to his shape. He fucks you both through it, the vigor of his grinds wearing as the spurts of his spend slows within the condom. 

His arms buckle, pushing an umphf from your chest as he falls onto you. The heaviness is grounding and you wrap your arms around him, shuddering through the aftershocks.

Lando shifts needily at your side, but doesn’t speak. He pulls the arm on your waist from underneath his Carlos’s torso and drags a finger along the reddened scores your nails carved into his boyfriend’s back, with a look in your eyes you can’t place. Is it envy? Quietly, you contemplate the ache you feel between your legs. 

“Get naked, cariño,” you rasp, finding a second wind at the younger man doing as you asked, “It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t get a turn, too.”

Carlos nuzzles deeper into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, his lips and eyelashes tickling your cooling skin. He misses the sight of his boyfriend wildly flinging his briefs to an unknown corner of the bedroom.

Sitting on his haunches, the Brit’s reaches to grab his cock. It’s leaking and (concerningly) redder than the skin of his cheeks from the lack of attention paid to it. He yanks his hand back as if slapped, and digs his nails into the meat of his thighs.

Oh, you think, is it too much for him or is he not supposed to touch?

You reach to close your palm around his poor, dripping length, only managing a single, loose stroke when a pained hiss is ripped from Lando’s teeth. His hips jerk back, freeing himself from barely there hold of your hand. The toned muscles of his abdomen jump as his cock flares and a stream of precum dribbles from his swollen tip.

“Fu-uck,” he shakes, “— ‘can’t. Too sensitive, ‘ll cum.”

The green and blue pools of his eyes are wet with moisture, and his chest—dotted with moles and patches of flushed skin—trembles with every inhale. The man laying on your chest shifts to trail his eyes over Lando’s form. The corner of his lips tilts into a smirk as his boyfriend attempts to hide his arousal behind a hand.

“Sol,” Carlos says to you as his eyes remain piercing into the Brit, “You should ride him—if you are able to, of course.” [Sunshine/Sun]

“Uhh…” you stutter, your attention bouncing between the two as you refrain from answering. 

The numbness settling within your cunt can be ignored if it means you get to have the younger man underneath you. Except, it looks like he’s about to cry, and you don’t want to pressure him into agreeing with your answer if he honestly can’t handle it. The teary-eyed man whimpers thinly, splaying himself on his back next to you, looking past you to meet Carlos’s eyes meekly, his voice tiny as he responds, “—won’t last.”

The Spaniard pulls out of you slowly, murmuring apologies and kissing your cheekbone when your brow twinges in discomfort. He helps you straddle the younger man’s hips, careful to support you as your legs haven’t stopped quivering.

His hand drifts between your pelvises, dragging a nail along the underside of Lando’s cock and you can’t deny the buzz of electricity that sings in your gut at the younger man’s wounded cry. The tears spill over his waterline, though he’s squeezed his eyes shut to try to stop them from falling. Carlos tuts at the man patronizingly.

“Too much, Landito?” Carlos pouts at him, “It is fine if you cannot take it. If you don’t want to cum tonight that’s—“

Lando’s eyelids spring open, looking at Carlos desperately as he babbles, “No,no,no,no—‘wanna cum. Please, ‘los.”

The seconds Carlos spends rolling protection over Lando’s cock are filled with choked gasps as the younger man cries, overwhelmed at the lightest touch of fingertips. You lower around his cock smoothly, walls clenching around him greedily, vision tunneling on the soundless bliss of his expression when your ass meets his skin.

You hum at the fullness, your mind settling at how right it feels. The first circle of your hips has Lando’s hands clawing at your hips, adding his own marks on your skin to compliment his boyfriend’s. He wriggles, overwhelmed, but bucks to meet your rolling body regardless.

He’s flushed from head to waist, fresh tears painting tracks of salt down his face before they drip off his jawline to splash on the bed sheets. Your pace remains tantric, and you don’t move more than an inch upwards to avoid testing his limits. The suckling, hot, drag is more than enough for him, if the pulsing of his cock is any telling. Your own sensitivity begins to bite at the base of your spine, your brain exhausted at the feeling of Lando pressing into the rawness that Carlos carved out.

The Spaniard must notice the way the two of you are tiring of chasing euphoria. Lando’s grinds weaken as the precipice of ecstasy is dangled in front of him, hoarse sobs racking through him as he fails to reach it on his own. Carlos splays his hand across Lando’s throat. The Brit’s whimpers pleadingly, and his mouth parts roundly as his boyfriend applies a light pressure to the sides of his neck. 

Lando shakes apart underneath you with uneven thrusts, his helpless gasps echoing through the room as you continue the grind of your hips to coax him through the bliss of release. He bodily restricts your movements when you edge him towards too-much, pulling you off of him with a single hand underneath your thigh. 

Your knees buckle, pitching over to lie face down next to the British man, who mewls sharply as Carlos pulls the soiled condom off. The heat of the Spaniard disappears, the sheets ruffling as he leaves the bed, causing Lando to make a noise of confusion.

“Water, mi amor,” Carlos chuckles, and you’re happy your face is hidden as you can’t contain your expression of envy at the endearment. He maneuvers Lando’s arms to curl around you, “I am getting us water. I will be quick.”

The younger man, as fucked-out as he is, uses a surprising amount of force to pull you into his chest as he buries his nose in your frazzled nest of hair. He uses his other hand to pull your leg around his hip and hums happily when your bodies press together without an ounce of space to spare. He squeezes you tightly, your dejected frown disappearing as you bask in his embrace, uncaring of the layer of sweat pooling on your cooling skin and the stickiness of your thighs.

There’s three cups with straws in Carlos’s hands as he rejoins the two of you on the bed. He sets one on the nightstand and holds the other two while you and Lando untangle your limbs. Once Carlos is satisfied by the slow sips you two take, he slinks into the bathroom and returns with a warm, soaked cloth to wipe the grime from everyone’s bodies. 

He’s careful about the press of the rag, paying attention to every muscle that tenses in sensitivity and tries to do the job as painless as possible. He nods in content once finished, scooping his glass up to rehydrate himself as well.

Lando bites at the metal straw, the gap of his teeth ridiculously cute even as his eyes brighten with mischief, “So…five minutes and we go again?”

“¡Que te jodan!” You cast a look of disbelief at him, “Lando you just cried through an entire orgasm and you want to go again? Already?” [Fuck you!]

The Brit shrugs loftily, slurping through the last bit of water in his cup and toothily smiling as he blinks at you in feigned innocence. His softened length twitches to attention, and you rest your head in your hand, shutting your eyes briefly for strength.

“Oh, what the hell,” you mumble, before clearing your throat, speaking louder, “I need like 15 minutes—or, until I can feel my legs again. Whichever comes first.”

Carlos collects the empty cup from Lando and sets it on the nightstand with his own. “Would you like to watch him fall apart around me while you wait?”

You choke on the sip of water in your mouth, coughing desperately to clear your throat as your eyes water from the burn. The worried look in the Spaniard’s eyes has an amused tinge to it, even as he pats you on the back in aid—you have a feeling he timed his question with your swallow on purpose.

“That’s a stupid question,” you croak, strangled, “Of course, I want to watch.”

You snuffle against a warmed patch of skin annoyed. The heat of sunlight paints your face golden, and you shift to burrow further into the warmth of limbs around you to drowsily slip back into sleep. You find yourself nodding off, but your ears become alert to the sounds of birds calling and chirping outside. 

Your body reacts before your brain as you fly upwards into a seated position. Shit! You have to go to work!

A pained whimper is exhaled as your lower body aches, sore from last night’s activities. The tangle of tanned arms fall limply around your waist at your change in position, the snores of the two men beside you uninterrupted. You carefully pry their arms away, and slip from the bed, digging through the pile of clothes on the floor, grinding your teeth at the numbness of your legs underneath you.

You dress yourself quickly, closing your eyes in thanks for Carlos forcing you into the shower before you passed out. Hopping across the bedroom to tug your skirt up, you stumble into the bathroom to examine the state you're in, pulling your shirt over your head all the while. 

Your curls are a mess, but that can be fixed at work. Lando respected your wishes of keeping his marks below the collar, but you can spot a few of the bruises on your thighs that their fingertips left. 

You curse briefly, unsure if you have a skirt long enough that would hide the mottled skin before remembering that you have a pair of biker shorts that you can slide on underneath that will get the job done. Pressing a thumb into the shape of Carlos’s thumb, you shiver at the glance of pain that sparks up your spine, swallowing tightly as you recall how it was left there.

With a shake of your head to expel the unseemly thoughts, you turn the faucet on to splash water on  your face. You need to call an Uber to get to work. Rushing out of the en-suite, you frantically search for your phone, trying to remain silent to avoid waking up the boys tucked in that ridiculously plush mattress.

“¿Qué estas buscando?” You screech frightfully at the rough timber of Carlos’ voice, spinning around to look at him. [What are you looking for?]

He’s preciously ruffled; his hair sticks up wildly, the comforter draped around his waist as he leans upwards, the planes of his tanned skin sharp in the morning hours, his eyes squinted in your direction under the brightness of the room—the curtains are wide open. 

Did you have sex—illuminated with a single lamp—with the curtains wide open? That’s a problem to fixate over later, you need your phone.

“Have you seen my phone? I can’t find it,” you straighten your shirt, your volume quieting near the end of your sentence as Lando shifts in the bed with a displeased pout that softens when he settles.

“I plugged it in here for you,” Carlos whispers, rolling to take it off the charger, flashing the marks your nails etched into his back. 

He lifts himself out of bed with a rough groan, your mouth drying as you watch him walk to you, clad in a pair of boxers that leave little (it’s not little at all, actually) to the imagination. Carlos’s hand cushions your cheek as he brushes his lips on yours softly, the delicate rhythm washing away your concerns about being late. 

Your lips break apart with a soft pop and he laughs at the discontented sigh you exhale, offering a languid press of lips to your forehead in apology. You reluctantly take the phone from his hand, your eyes bugging out as you realize that you needed to leave five minutes ago to have plenty of time to fix your appearance before you clock in.

“¡Puta madre!” you exclaim, “I’m fucked. I’m going to be so late ‘cause I have to wait for an car.”

“ —Wait for a car?” Carlos’s eyebrows twist in confusion, scratching at his stubble, “Where are you going? You are not staying?”

You throw him a soft look, turning away to figure out where your socks disappeared to, “I’m late for work, Carlitos. I can’t stay—even though I really want to.”

Carlos ah’s in understanding, assisting you in the search for your socks, his voice still croaky with disuse as he talks, “I can drive you? We are only twenty minutes away if you follow the road laws.”

You huff a laugh at his insinuation, tugging your socks on and patting at his arm softly, before gesturing to Lando in the bed, “You don’t have to. I don’t want to inconvenience you, you should be in bed with him. It’s my fault for not having my alarm properly set.”

Carlos shakes his head, rooting through his dresser for a pair of sweatpants that he pulls on, “You are not inconveniencing me. It would be rude if I let you be late to work after last night. I’m not that kind of man. Neither of us are.”

You give in as you watch him pull a plain white tee over his head—he’s too sweet for a fleeting romance. He ambles over to Lando, brushing the unruly curls off his forehead and pressing a kiss to his temple. He tucks the blankets around his boyfriend and a lick of jealousy blooms in your subconscious before you pluck it. 

Carlos grabs his own phone off another charger and stands, speaking to you warmly, “Your shoes and purse are downstairs, yes? There’s some protein bars in the kitchen pantry, grab as many as you want. I should have treated you to a proper breakfast but you do not have the time. I’m going to use the bathroom quickly, if that’s okay?”

You nod, and Carlos quietly shuts the bathroom door behind him. You breathe deeply at the situation you’ve found yourself in, and you scramble to send a quick text to the group chat telling them to cover for you and promising to cover a shift for anybody who does in the future. 

Your phone buzzes almost instantly after with an influx of messages and you click the screen off. They’re probably freaking out at the uncharacteristic vagueness of your whereabouts, but you put off responding to press your own kiss to Lando’s temple before heading downstairs, tenderly stepping to minimize the unsteadiness of your walk.

You appreciate the decor you didn’t get to see last night, the vacation home vibes blatant as you walk through; a modern twist of Spanish style decor. There’s even a fireplace you spot on your way past a sitting room.

You lace up your sneakers, grabbing your purse from the console table in the entryway before searching for the kitchen to grab a protein bar to hold you over until your lunch break. The kitchen is artful, modern in the sense of the new appliances but the colors and details of the tiled walls, clutter, and cabinets gives it a soul. It feels lived in.

You dryly swallow an ibuprofen—you always carry a few in your purse—hoping it will relieve your soreness before work. You open the pantry door, finding an assortment of protein bars and taking your time to read the labels as you hear a door open which means Carlos is heading down. You grab two bars that fit your taste and softly shut the door, unwrapping one to take a bite of now.

“Ah, I knew I would see you again,” Carlos Sr. smiles at you from the kitchen entry, chuckling at the way you jump and nearly drop the bars in your hands, “I will not lie to you, I thought it would be at the golf club and not here.”

Your lips part and seal as you search for a polite answer, but he continues speaking.

“Let me tell you a secret,” he clasps his hands delightfully, “Did my son tell you that he’s been asking me about you every time I am on the course? Papá, did you see her? Papá, when are you going back to Madrid? Aye, they’re smitten over you, mija?”

“¿En serio?” you relax at his mellow tone, enlightened by the new information. [Really?]

“¡Sí!” The older man exclaims, passing by you to start a pot of coffee, “To be honest, I thought you were out of their league last summer,” you laugh, knowing it’s definitely the other way around, “—Honestly!” He insists, turning to face you as the coffee starts to drip.

“I mean, you are in university, getting a further degree,” he shakes his head in respect of your commitment, “Those two just drive in circles for a living! I couldn’t even convince my son to drive rally like I did, ese cabrón.” [That bastard.]

You laugh a little harder at the jab on his own son, muffling it behind a hand, and he continues, “—And, when they told me they did not get your number! Ay! I was so mad at them. I told them to drop everything and go after you, but by the time they made their way up there you were already gone.”

You feel like shit about your outburst on the green. Your expression shutters, and he pats at your shoulder in comfort, “Oh. I-I didn’t know—“

“How could you?” He hums in question, “It is not your fault, if that’s what you are—“

“Mi sol, have you seen my wallet—” Carlos Jr. steps into the kitchen, words cutting off as he balks at the sight of his father, and he shouts, “Papá! ¿Qué hace aquí?” [My sunshine; Dad! What are you doing here?]

“¿Qué estoy haciendo en la casa que compré?” His dad fires back, amused at his son’s stunned question. [What am I doing in the house I bought?]

Carlos blinks at his dad before turning to you, slipping his hand into yours and tugging you out of the kitchen softly, “Let’s go; you’re going to be late, no?”

Sr. chortles as he grabs a mug from the cabinet, “¡Mijo! Hiding a woman from me?! It is okay, Lando will tell me everything. That is why he’s my favorite son!”

Carlos throws his head back with an exasperated groan, but it doesn’t hide the redness of his ears from his father’s teasing.

You stifle your smile, squeezing his hand pacifyingly, “Your wallet is in the bowl at the front. Um, if it’s possible,” you tuck a curl behind your ear shyly, “Do you have another car besides the Ferrari? I love it, but I cannot show up stepping out of that.”

Carlos snorts, shoving his wallet into his pocket and leading you to the garage, “Is a Porsche fine?”

“It’ll work.”

He gets you there in thirteen minutes, slowing the car to a crawl as you direct him to the employee entrance. You grab your purse, awkwardly pausing as you pop the door open. 

You face him with a sheepish grin, “Thank you for the ride. Tell Lando I said good morning.”

Carlos drags his eyes over your form languidly, before he nods imperceptibly, “Do you have enough time to get ready?”

“You’ve made up a few extra minutes for me with your skilled driving on the way here,” Carlos huffs a laugh at that, “So, I should be okay.”

The two of you fall back into silence, unsure of what else to say. You take the leap of faith this time around, it’s the most you can do after learning the way they tried to catch you before you left last summer.

“It wouldn’t be overstepping if I kissed you, right?”

“Ven aquí,” Carlos exhales, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning over the console to meet you halfway. [Come here.]

His lips are swollen and textured from your’s and Lando’s combined attention, but the kiss is the sweetest and most tender one you’ve ever experienced. The soft exhale of breath from his nose stokes the butterflies in your stomach, who flutter awake as adoration pumps through your veins. The two of you part, eyes fluttering open to stare softly. He settles back into his seat, looking at your lips longingly, his line of sight broken as you exit the vehicle.

You clear your throat, “Um, I’ll text you guys when I get home later, okay? Adiós, te qu—hasta luego.” [Bye, I l—see you later.]

You shut the door and speed walk into the building before he could say anything about how you nearly exposed how down bad you are already. You hope he doesn’t bring it up, for the sake of your mental stability. The moment you step into the employee locker room, you're accosted by your friends, Isa, Lucas, and Stephanie. 

“Damn,” Lucas snaps, “I was really hoping you’d be late. I need my shift on Tuesday covered.”

You shrug, sliding past the girls to walk to your locker. “Sucks to suck.”

“¡Oye, pequeña!” Isa and Stephanie box you in at your locker as you grab your spare uniform and sport shorts, Isa stresses, “You cannot, walk in here and act like nothing happened! You show up wearing the outfit I picked out for you yesterday? Your hair is a mess! You sent the vaguest text about possibly showing up late? And, you get dropped off in a Porsche!?” [Hey, girly(i guess, idrk how to explain it)!]

Stephanie’s eyes blow wide and you rest your head into the cool metal of your locker door as she bursts, “Girl—did you get laid?!”

“Thank you for that, Steph,” you bite out, turning to look at them with the politest grimace you can muster, “Now, everyone will know exactly what I got up to last night because Lucas—,” you point behind you with a thumb, speaking loudly to drive your words in, “—Is physically incapable of keeping his mouth shut.”

He raises his hands up and backs out of the locker room with a devious smile. 

Turning to Isa, you shake your head, “I do not know why you like him. He’s such a chismosa.” [Gossip.]

She rolls her eyes at you, following you as you make your way into the bathroom, “It’s not a bad thing. He tells me all of the gossip I miss out on–why are there bruises on your thigh—holy fuck! He must have big hands. Which means he has a big—”

“Okay!” You screech, running into a stall and locking the door shut behind you, “I will tell you and the girls every single detail as soon as we finish today!”

She makes a triumphant noise, her steps fading as she exits the restroom, “You better! Or, I’ll force you to listen to me wax poetic about Lucas’s eyes for hours!”

Scoffing, you tug your shirt over your head and yell back, “You already do that anyways!”

The slicked-back ponytail you gelled your hair into, has already sprung flyaways since you didn’t have enough time to set your hair with a wrap before you had to drive out onto the course. You’re almost three hours into your shift, and the sun feels like it’s at its strongest even though you have a few more hours of it burning hotter. Only twenty minutes until lunch, you remind yourself, then you can fix your hair and cool down in the restaurant's walk-in freezer.

You’ve just finished serving a bachelor party, a group of ten men who didn’t give you a hard time. You talked loosely with them, engaging in small talk because connections are everything and you never know who you might run into on the green.

Like Carlos and Lando, case in point.

The groom-to-be actually met his fiancé here. She was a bartender in the clubhouse about seven years ago, and on complete chance she ended up being the one to serve him. He was starry-eyed as he explained to you that he fell in love with her as soon as he saw her. He ordered an unbelievably expensive amount of drinks for him and his boys (the same group of men in the bachelor party), and when she slid the bill over to him, he said, “For this price, you could’ve bought me for the night.”

You called bullshit, and he looked at his friends who backed up his words; they all heard it when he said it. You watched as he took a sip from his beer bottle with a reverent shake of his head, “Now, we’re getting married next week. On August 12th, or 8/12. Which was the price of the tab that night, $812.”

You made a joke about him needing to strengthen his self-esteem if he would consider selling his body for a measly $800, and to attend an A.A. meeting because that’s a ridiculous amount of money to spend on drinks that leave your system quicker than you ingested them. 

The men crowed in laughter at your ribbing of the groom-to-be, but you did seriously congratulate him on his engagement and wished him a long, happy marriage.

And currently, you’ve parked your cart for a few minutes to get over the urge you feel to cry. You're jealous of a woman you’ve never met before because she gets to love a man who’s devoting the rest of his life to her. She gets to marry him, and you’ve agreed to be nothing more than a summer romance to the men you could see yourself falling in love with.

You thank the universe for allowing you to cross paths with the groom-to-be. It reminded you of your place with the Formula One drivers and it’s a temporary one.

Your walkie-talkie crackles with the sound of your name and you sniffle deeply, blinking your eyes quickly to rid the moisture. 

“What’s up?” You chirp cheerily into the voice box, waiting for a response.

“By chance, are you missing your earrings? Over.” It’s Ryan, he takes his radio messages seriously. You tug at your earlobes, and damn, you feel naked.

“I am. Did I leave them in the dressing room?”

“You have to say ‘over’ at the end of your messages, you know that. Over.”

“Ryan...” you hold the line open to annoy him a little bit before you give in, “Did I leave them in the dressing room? O-v-e-r, over.”

“I was going to be nice to you but you lost that chance. Over.” 

You snort, intrigued to hear how he’s going to ‘retaliate.’ The two of you started here at the same time and Ryan has become like a little brother to you, against your will. 

“I just wanted to let you know that two objectively handsome men turned in your earrings to the front desk,” you shout in surprise, firing up the golf cart and slamming the pedal down to head back to the clubhouse, “Hmm…I think they said you left them at their house last night. Overrrrr.” He draws the ‘over’ out teasingly and the walkie-talkie squeals with static and screams of surprise from the other employees on the channel.

“TWO? YOU FREAK!!!” Lucas.

Incoherent screaming. Isa.

“Nobody here can call me a slut anymore!” Rob.

“Is that why you couldn’t sit comfortably at the morning meeting?!” Sofia.

Ryan’s voice crackles through, “Oh! I forgot to mention—don’t worry about stealing food from the restaurant for lunch; they dropped off a meal for you. Over.”

The walkie-talkie explodes with noise and you turn the volume to zero. You’re reporting them all to HR.

You tune out the jeers in the break room as you devour a croquetade jamón and chase it with a spoonful of rice. You send a photo of the food with a thumbs-up in the frame, to Carlos and Lando. You type out your thanks for the jewelry return and lunch. There’s no hesitation as you press send on message inquiring about when the third date is going to happen.

The third date is private cooking lesson where you’re coached through making a few classic Spanish tapas. Lando immersed too deeply and only responded to ‘Chef Lando’ during the class. Carlos ate all of the chorizo he was supposed to use on his flatbread. You terrify the actual chef with your less than savory cutting technique. Your torn apart on their fingers that night, as they take turns coaxing you over the cliff.

You decrease the amount hours you’re able to work at the golf course. You’re only on the schedule during the middle of the week–Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday—leaving you with a four day weekend to frolic around Madrid with your boyfr—with Carlos and Lando.

The fourth date is dinner and a show. It’s your first time watching a ballet, and your lucky enough to be watching the performance at Teatro Real, one of the most prestigious opera houses in Europe. It’s also the first time you get railed in a women’s bathroom stall at Teatro Real, one of the most prestigious opera houses in Europe.

Lando pants raggedly as he fucks into you from behind, “Ah—shit, sunshine, you’re so tight.”

Your moan is muffled around Carlos’s cock and he hisses at the vibration, knocking his head against the stall door loudy. 

When Lando climaxes, he whimpers out a, “te quiero.” You pretend to miss it as you concentrate on sucking Carlos to completion. Carlos licks his spend from your tongue, babbling his te quiero’s into your mouth. You don’t say it back. [Te quiero means I love you, but it’s more casual, less serious in nature.]

The fifth date is pottery and you ride Carlos’s face to the image of Lando’s hands coning down his clay on the wheel. The sixth date is driving around the outskirts of Madrd’s city limits and passing the phone around to queue a song to play as you three switch between talking and enjoying the tunes. 

The seventh date is painting the mugs you made; you made two, one for Carlos and one for Lando—they each made you one as well. You’ve painted Carlos’s as a lemon and Lando’s as an orange—and homage to the sip of sunshine line they pulled on you. Lando painted a field of sunflowers for you. Carlos painted a sun with rays spilling from it, the words ‘my sunshine’ scripted into the middle of the sun.

Somewhere between the fifth and seventh date, they became comfortable with saying te quiero  to you outside of sex. 

It’s said as you serve them drinks on the course, as they drop you of at home after dates, as they cuddle with you without wanting more, as they wake you up between them in the morning. 

You give in somewhere beewen the sixth and seventh date. But, you only allow yourself to say te quiero during or after sex.

And, you stifle your sobs of anguish into your pillow at home, dreading the day you return to school and they return to racing.

Your dad enjoys the mobile car show of priceless automobiles that appear in his driveway to pick you up. Your mom eagerly awaits your renditions of your dates every night and you’re careful to edit around the explicit parts. 

The dates progress to you spending your four days off at their  Carlos Sr. 's vacation home, packing a bag with your necessities so you don’t have to risk wasting time away from them by stopping at your house. They take the time to explain to you just how much of a goat Lewis Hamilton is. Lando helps with your wash day, soaking up your tidbits of advice for his own curls. Carlos lets you soundboard ideas for your dissertation off of him without complaining, iterjecting every once in a while with a viewpoint you hadn’t considered. 

Your craving for intimacy is satiated. They twirl you around in the kitchen to Spanish ballads they sing terribly at the top of their lungs. They terrorize you on the green, choosing increasingly difficult cocktails for you to make so you have to spend more time with them instead of doing your job. You and Carlos terrorize Lando with a football games of keep away. You and Lando terrorize Carlos by hiding his shirts from him so he has to walk around topless. They don’t terrorize you in retaliation—if you don’t count their constant te quiero’s as terrorizing acts.They pick you up at some ridiculous hours when you’ve gone clubbing with your friends; making sure you chug a glass of water, helping you rinse off in the shower and moisturizing your skin before dressing you in their clothes, doing your skincare for you before putting you to bed. 

They drag their feet through helping you repack your belongings on the morning of your last day in Spain. You let Lando get away with tugging garments out of your bag every time you turn your back to him, hiding your smile as you see Carlos assist him by stuffing it at the bottom of the pile of clothes that doesn’t seem to shrink.

Eventually, they give up. Their eyes trace your form as you do your last walkaround to make sure you haven’t left anything behind. Your check ends at the front door, grabbing your keys from the bowl on the entryway table.

You sigh heavily, “Well, don’t just stand there.”

They gravitate towards you, hugging you tightly and peppering an endless amount of bittersweet kisses along any patch of skin they can reach. Lando hunches down to hide his face in your neck, and Carlos rests his forehead against yours.

“¡Chicos, calmaté!” Your giggly exclamation sounds watery, “I am coming back next year, remember?”

“That’s too longgg,” Lando complains into your neck, his voice sounding as pitiful as yours. You step backwards to cradle his face between your hands. His cheeks are ruddy and his eyes are dejected even as he smiles shakily under your touch.

“Date us.” Carlos blurts out desperately, “Ay, perdóname—May we date you, please?” [Forgive me.]

You gape at the older man, struggling to ascertain what he’s asked of you. 

Stumbling gracelessly, your hands fall from Lando’s face, who makes a hurt noise at the loss. “Date me? I thought you both said this was just a fling?”

The Brit twists his hands together at your words, his face saddening further as he corrects you, “Summer romance—fling is too harsh.”

“Too casual?” You shout, “I thought this was supposed to be casual! I felt like shit whenever I didn’t say te quiero back! I wanted more the moment we sat down at that restaurant a month ago, but I thought I couldn’t have it because that’s not what we agreed on!”

“You want more?” Carlos clarifies, his tone optimistic. 

“¡Cabrón!”  You laugh, hurtling forward to throw your arms around his neck. Relieved tears spill over your waterline, soaking into the Spaniard’s shirt. “I’m damn near in love with you guys–yes,yes,yes, I want more.”

Lando glows, blubbering incoherently with happiness and you shush him with your lips.

“I wish you had asked me days ago,” you sniffle cutely, smiling crookedly as you continue, “—’cause I really do have to leave, or I won’t have enough time to pack my things into my suitcases at home.”

You groan as you find yourself with an armful of two Formula One drivers bemoaning the unfairness of being separated from you even though they just got you.

“Mis amores, escúchame—you had me the entire time,” you coo, “We all know how phones work. We can communicate speedily with texts, and video calls, and send voice messages, and even regular calls. If we’re doing this we have to have a serious talk about it when I land in the States, yeah? Long distance is difficult, but I’m willing to put in the effort to make it work, if you two do the same.” [My loves, listen to me.]

“Phone sex isn’t the worst thing in the world,” Lando quips, smiling as he watches you and Carlos chortle at the unexpected comment.

The laughter ringing through the air fizzles out. You bite your lip, shaking your head slightly as their stares fixate on your mouth. They haven’t managed to stop ogling at your lips over the course of the month.

“Te quiero,” you state. Lando repeats it back instantly, Carlos kisses you before doing the same.

You pick up your bag from the floor, “Promise me that you’ll do your best to make this relationship work.”

Their confirmations are swift, even taking turns crossing their pinkies with yours and with themselves. Your heart sings with love. They walk you to your car. Carlos takes the bag from your hand and places it in your backseat, Lando holds your door open, making sure you don’t hit your head as you sit in the driver’s seat. 

He shuts the door smoothly, and you roll down the window to exchange your last goodbyes. 

“See you next summer.”

general taglist (ask to join):

@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool

@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea

@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification

@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/

@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25

@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134

@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking

current SOS taglist (ask or leave a reply if you would like to be added):

@dhanihamidi/@alilcloudy/@tremendousstarlighttragedy/@justanothersuckerforanime-blog/@shepgurl

@sainzluvrr/@arialikestea/@urfavnoirette/@swechchhaj/@delululeclerc

@formula1-motogpfan/@f1orza/@daniskywalkersolo/@uselessginger0/@mickslover

@isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion/@tremendousstarlighttragedy/@annispamz/@certifiedlesbianbaddie/@sofs16

@tomiwastilinskii/@sakuxxi/@mitruscity/@pal3rmo/@lando-505

@hahahjej/@eugene-emt-roe/@nissaimmortal

© httpsserene2024 — photos used are from pinterest (edited by me). borders by @cafekitsune.

[luvvixu]

the end

synopsis: the end of your relationship was inevitable. that's why both of you and gojo satoru individually prepare yourselves against the pain and separation of an upcoming divorce. and when that thing came, you suddenly found yourselves trapped inside the circle of your marriage where denial is present, and acceptance is absent. let us all see how the marriage walk through the end.

tags: divorce!au, ex-husband!gojo, angst, hurt/no comfort, mentioned of death, mentioned of trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: here's an almost 8k words of oneshot about gojo marriage again. i've mentioned this before but im taking a very small break and will be back on june 5 with an update regarding to the chapter of mind over matter ff. be sure to check out the announcement!

it was a peaceful morning on your balcony with satoru gojo, your husband for almost two years. you are reading your newly purchased book with your glasses on to help you see the letters.

you take a second peek at your husband who was already gazing at you from the beginning. his gaze was painted with a mixture of sadness and adoration towards you. looks like he had something to say, and you're right, he did have something to say when he mumbles your name.

oh god, you knew where this conversation would be. keeping your eyes bore on him, you fully turned your attention to him and waited for him to speak what's on his heart and mind.

"i think we should file a divorce."

his voice was monotonous and yet you knew it really wasn't, his face also did the same since you also didn't hold one either. your expression still remained calm like he was not asking for a divorce as you closed your book and then put it back on the coffee table.

meanwhile, satoru couldn't read you at this moment because you were quiet, too quiet for his liking. were you so shocked that you couldn't react to his sudden cut of ties? or was it just you already expected this the moment when you woke up?

probably, the most accurate reason and answer was the second one. satoru watches you lean on the seat with your hands clasp on your lap. he also never fails to see the neutral glaze in your eyes.

"if you are wondering why i didn't hold any emotion as you speak, that's because i already reacted a year ago." a sigh escalated from your lips as you removed your glasses also and put it on the table.

"you expected that this day would come?" he said in silence while secretly fiddling with the calluses on his hand—a hidden and canonical habit of satoru whenever he feels anxious and worried.

before this day would come, the two of you got married when both of you were twenty. a young, dumb, and somehow not stupid but definitely reckless who took a big tramp of change among themselves.

satoru was the one who asked you to get married after almost four years of being inside an on and off relationship. that was very fast and very reckless at that time—but of course you agreed because you are a fool to get yourself blinded by your love towards him.

so, the two of you got married and with only some people whom you both held close dearly attended the said wedding. it was simple and civil, but to you, it was your everything. the wedding and this marriage mean so much to you.

your marriage went pretty well in your first few months of being married. both of you got yourself a house with a nice garden that you absolutely adore, you also got yourselves a work almost instantly too. satoru got more missions since he was now a graduate, while you work in your own cafe and occasionally take jujutsu stuff.

things were really fine with heaven as the witness. until one night during your almost first anniversary, you caught him going home around three to four o'clock in the morning with a smell of alcohol and woman's perfume that's definitely not yours. he's really drunk, which was weird because he hates alcohol. you wondered what's the occasion or any celebration that should be celebrated and whatnots, but you can't think of any. so that leads you to silently crying.

you did not confront him about your first suspicion of cheating, you want him to admit it himself, but that doesn't mean you're going to tolerate that piece of shit because for god's sake! there's a fucking hickey on his neck that night, you knew it wasn't yours since you've barely had an intercourse due to both of your busy schedules.

you remember asking him about his whereabouts that night like you weren't aware, but his answer just disappoints you, he told you that he had an emergency mission and needed him in action asap at kyoto around 11pm and it took him some time to finish it. as mentioned before, his answer disappoints you, because your assumption has been partially proven.

satoru was clearly lying about his whereabouts that night but still the cheating allegations were not clear. maybe the seemingly foreign hickeys on his neck was already evidence but you're probably still in denial, so you didn't instantly conclude that he was really cheating with you.

but you still couldn't shake off his illicit affairs. why? because satoru was lying about the emergency mission on kyoto. he wasn't there, you knew that because you were the one who took the mission, not him. satoru actually rejected the mission because he's busy with other matters so you took it yourself without even telling him.

all of these things that are happening leads you back to that day when he proposed to you. it was so sudden that it made you a little bit skeptical. but when you asked him why he suddenly asked you to get married? easy, you didn't know.

however, you had your hypothesis that after geto disappeared and went on his rebellious phase, you let gojo use you to relieve his grief. that is why when you realize that this marriage is meant to not last long, you secretly cry to yourself during your first year anniversary as a married couple.

meanwhile, satoru knew to himself that he couldn't stand a long-term relationship. though he also started to feel bad for making things go very quickly with you, his love towards you is pure and genuine. in fact, he would do anything just to keep you safe and happy. but he wasn't able to do that when you're the opposite of him.

he is selfish and you are selfless.

no matter how hard he tried to change or even make things up for you, he just couldn't do it. there's this invisible dark string that pulls him inside the void of darkness. and he couldn't afford to bring you down with him. the thing that geto did really left a scar, a permanent scar to his chest that creates an inescapable hole that keeps on growing bigger and sucking his life in the process.

while you, you fully commit yourself to him. that's why everything would be pointless for satoru to let himself get hurt just to protect you. because you would literally throw yourself in the fire when he's burning.

it was like the two of you are a magnet with the same pole. you can't attract each other no matter how hard you try to let them collide.

back to reality, your head was faced downward. your husband sought for your eyes by calling your name meticulously, but you refused. an internal laugh at your pathetic figure rang through your mind, you are laughing at yourself for believing that you are already prepared for this moment, turns out, you're not—you’ll never be.

satoru mumbles your name again. and all of the sudden, you just let out a nod, followed by a small sigh. you let yourself look at him again despite the unnoticed tears in your eyes.

"okay, but let's spend this whole day as husband and wife for the last time. let's do the things we usually do during our free time." you said, and satoru agrees with you almost instantly. he thinks this is the least thing he could do for you before setting each other free.

everything went normal for the rest of the day. satoru takes you out for lunch, visits your favorite cafe for desserts, and even goes to the park where he asked you out to be his wife.

and right now, the two of you are in the cemetery, specifically in haibara's graveyard. the sun was proceeding to its dusk, making the place a bit solemn because of its ambience.

"do you think he'll be mad at my decision?" your soon-to-be ex-husband asked you with his small tired voice. haibara was your bestest friend of all and he actually talked to gojo when he's still alive about his relationship with you. he would like gojo to take care of you and treat you more than you deserve in your entire life.

"i don't think so. haibara only wants the best for us. he's a man of freedom, after all. and yet, how ironic because he, himself, has no freedom during his time in the jujutsu." you answered him as you watched the candle burn itself.

satoru looked at you. "how about you, y/n? are you mad at my decision?" he asked you a bit hesitant.

you just smiled at him and said, "i will answer that later, satoru." satoru nodded at your answer, he understood that you had a lot to say to him later.

after some time, you two decided to go home to your shared apartment. the journey back was fun and relaxing, it was filled with smiles and laughter that will soon vanish as the dawn is coming.

6:00 PM

both of you arrived at home. you helped satoru hang his coat on the raker like you usually do whenever he comes home during winter. this small act is something that would be definitely missed by him dearly, since you will not be around to do it.

"thanks for agreeing to go out with me." you said to him with a smile that almost reached your eyes. the only thing that stops you from giving your bestest smile was the divorce, but you subside because this is your last day as a married couple. you have to enjoy it to the extent.

"that was the least thing i could do for you before…nevermind." he said. satoru was not cheerful enough to make you smile whenever your eyes met. you also noticed that he was downhearted since you visited haibara's graveyard.

though as you were heading in your shared apartment, he was smiling and laughing. guess you didn't overlook him at all and you failed to notice his hidden pain.

you watched him lay down on the couch. "you looked bothered. was it because i didn't answer your question earlier?" you said quietly.

satoru didn't say anything, and according to his vocabulary, silence means yes. you sigh to yourself and take a seat on the same couch where your husband was lying in.

your hand reached out for his face, cupping it as satoru looked at you with his hooded eyelids. those magical six blue eyes are staring at you with known emotion, pain and agony.

"you didn't ask me why i suddenly wanted to get divorce…" he mumbles, nestling his head in your palm.

"you agreed without questioning me. i don't even see you cry about this. why y/n? are you hurting yourself by keeping your emotions inside you?" he continued. the pain in his voice breaks your heart into bits of pieces. satoru looked so vulnerable, his true emotions are showing exclusively for you.

you let out a small but bitter chuckle. "crying is not part of the things we usually do during our free time together, toru." his eyes widened at your answer. a droplet of tears slide down on your palm. satoru was crying, and you let him weep because you knew he's pent up.

"and i'm not mad at you. i also didn't ask you any questions because i know you know what you are doing and i respect your decision." you added.

"although, i admit. i want to bawl my eyes out. i want to scream because my heart is aching for believing that i was prepared for this moment." your breathings started to become shaky also just by watching satoru weep under your touch.

you refused to cry. at least not now.

"but i don't want to ruin this day by crying. i want both of us to savor this moment with smiles and laughter. so that when we part our ways, we wouldn't have any regrets to hold."

"so, satoru…let's continue to spend the rest of our night happily, hmm?" you let yourself smile for him to be motivated to stop from crying. however, he did the opposite. satoru cried even harder.

your hand is being cradled by him. you could feel his tears on your palm followed by his little hiccups. this scene alone in front of was usually enough to make you cry even harder than him. it was utterly heartbroken to see your man cry like this.

"hush, my…" love, that's the word you would like to say but forbids you to do so. satoru also noticed it too and he absolutely hates the feeling of it.

"l-love. call me love. c-call me like you used to call me before. first name basis is not part of the things we usually do during our free time together." he mimicked your words earlier. though it may sound like a joke, it isn't. satoru has been dead serious since the beginning of the day.

"my love…"

"y-yes, my sweetheart?" he responded.

your lips quiver from the overflowing emotions in your chest, but you still refuse to let yourself cry even when you're all by yourself. god, you are hopeless and devastated.

but dear me, it felt so good to hear him call you with endearing words. oh how you wish this kind of moment would last forever. maybe in another life, it would be. only if fate would be kind enough to give satoru to you again, maybe it will and it would be.

8:00 PM

satoru was all alone. his eyes were puffy from crying and stuff. he was such a mess. and if anyone would see, they would probably think that he's a zombie because of how low energy he was.

it took him almost an hour to stop crying. and you declared that this is the first and would be the last time that you would see him cry very hard.

right now, he was currently packing his things as he was about to move out tonight while playing betty by taylor swift. somehow, his mood got even more affected by this song, for every lyric hits him hard and he doesn't know why.

"♪ you heard the rumors from inez, you can't believe a word she says ♪" the radio sang. a shaky sigh came out from his mouth, he felt like crying again.

“♪ most times, but this time, it was true ♪”

"let me help you pack your things." you suddenly barge inside your onced shared bedroom after cleaning up for tonight. you are also in your sleep wear when satoru looks at you.

“♪ the worst thing that i ever did, was what i did to you ♪”

you didn't fail to notice that he is listening to one of your favorite artist's songs. a flashback hits you, it was the moment where you persuade him to listen to it with you. now, he has grown invested in their songs.

he mumbles a small okay as he watches you sit down beside him and redo the messy clothes he just stuffed inside his luggage. most of his clothes were luxurious like polo shirts, slacks pants, coats, and his favorite, blindfolds.

your eyes soften when you come across a small pouch that contains hair ties and bobby pins you onced bought for him as a prank. you still remembered the moment he let you tie his messy white locks with colorful pins and he looked so incredibly pretty with it. you couldn't help but to feel yourself getting emotional again.

don't cry. don't cry. don't cry.

meanwhile, satoru remained very quiet, for he was staring at the photo in his hand. it was your wedding photo where the both of you are wearing traditional japanese attire. he couldn't help but stare at your smiling face for too long. you looked so beautiful.

the wedding was very simple, but satoru describes it as one of his happiest days, and he is not lying to himself whenever he would say that. because he onced dreamed of getting married to you, and it came true. he also had the same state as you, both on the verge of crying.

"i wonder…would you get remarried someday?" he asked out of the sudden. you shifted your gaze to him and found him staring at your wedding photo. instantly, your eyes went soft.

"i am not sure." you replied silently as you closed his luggage and proceeded to the other one.

your hands momentarily stop working as you stare at them and watch it shake. "but if i do, it would probably take me a decade or so to find another husband to love." you said. but truth to be told, you had no motivation left to find another husband.

"you're twenty-two right now. so like…you'll be thirty plus by then when that happens," he calculated. "how about you? would you consider getting remarried also?" you asked him the same question.

he thinks for a moment before nodding slightly. "probably yes." your heart let out a wince but you tried your best to hide it. those words unintentionally hurt you and cut you deeper than a knife.

"w-well, i just wished good luck for both of us in the future." the crack in your voice didn't go unnoticed by satoru. he was about to reach you but then eventually dropped it. "me too…" was all he could say.

"anyway, do you mind if i ask…where are you staying after this?" you trailed off.

"i'll stay with higuruma for a day before moving out to my new apartment. speaking of that man, i told him to be here around midnight. so we still have four hours to be together." he answered

"...yeah."

10:00 PM

the two of you are sitting on the same seat just like this morning in the balcony. you are wearing your favorite cardigan as satoru was in his coat to fight the cold weather of the night.

all of his things were already packed and ready to leave. soon, you'll be alone and this house will not be lively as usual because his presence will be missed.

both of you refuse to say a word, yet. because you two are scared to have another breakdown that made this marriage even harder to break. especially satoru, he was aware that deep inside him he was not ready to let you go. he was just lying to himself because he is aware that he can heal if he gives himself some time.

"y/n, can i hold you here in my arms?" satoru swallowed all of the bitterness he felt for leaving you just to hold you again, for one last time. you slowly stood up from your and came towards in front of him.

your soon-to-be ex-husband gazes upon you. however, you refuse to meet those warm eyes that you loved the most. satoru slowly pulls you into his lap and cradles you like his greatest treasure, which you definitely is.

when your face hits his shoulder, you couldn't help but to hide your face deeper into his neck. "the place i'm going to stay afterwards is far from here. are you sure you will be okay?" he whispers in your ears.

"yeah, i'll be fine." you nodded solemnly. "i also planned to stop from my work for a while." you added.

"why?" satoru raises his eyebrow. he thought you loved your job as a barista. you enjoyed making coffee and wherever there's extra pastries left in the cafe, you would take it home for him to try it.

"don't worry, i had a lot of fortune that could last for a century. and besides, you even said i had a midas touch, so surviving won't be too hard for me." when your parents died, they left all of their fortune to you. so that makes you an instant millionaire and nobody knows that beside your husband.

satoru gently pushes you to meet his eyes. "i think this moment is perfect to give all of my secrets away. i don't need any perfect lies to hide from you anymore." he tucked the loose hair on the back of your ear, admiring your beautiful frame under the pale moonlight.

he gulped nervously, and for some reason, you're becoming very anxious about what he's going to tell. all you had to do was to wait for him to speak his thoughts out.

"the reason why i want to divorce is to have a new life and forget about the past. that includes you, y/n." though he only started, millions of knives already stabbed your poor heart. your eyes stared at him, a bit widely.

satoru couldn't bear to look at your pained expression, but he forced himself to look at you. so that you would feel his sincerity. "before suguru disappeared, he once told me to choose another path of life. he told me to run away from the jujutsu, run away from my life." he said, almost whispering.

"although, i want you to come with me. but…"

"i somehow got myself involved with the jujutsu too?" you continued it for him. satoru falls silent, so that means yes, it is true.

satoru cups your face. "i'm sorry, y/n. i really, really love you. but this is not the right path for us. you'll get more hurt if you continue to get tangled with me. so, after a lot of thinking and consideration…"

"i became selfish once again. i chose myself over you, y/n."

for the nth time, the walls you have been building around your emotional state are starting to shake once more. you could feel the hot tears building in your eyes.

you will not cry. you will not cry. you will not cry.

"i-i understand…although, you don't have to apologize for choosing what is the best for you. i'm actually glad that you're finally doing it." you plant your palms over his hands on your cheeks, closing your eyes to swallow up those annoying tears.

"i'm such a bad husband, aren't i?" satoru chuckles weakly. what has he done to deserve you like this? your understandment is something that he greatly admires in you. your heart is pure like an angel from above.

an angel like you can't fly down hell with him.

but god, you're making yourself willing to go down with him without any hesitation and that is just completely wrong.

and for the past years, satoru would make a mistake and you are there to correct him patiently. he would always tell himself to make something and make everything up for you. but who would have thought a divorce is the best thing to do?

"to be honest, not at all. remember what i told you before we got married? you are the fire and i'm the—"

"gasoline?"

"no silly, that's a song." your laugh brightens up the atmosphere. satoru smiled at your happy demure, he likes seeing you this joyful.

"you are the fire and i'm the fireman. a fireman would not function completely when there is no fire. meaning, why would i, a fireman, be here if there's no you, a fire." you raised your fingers to help you visualize your point.

"does that make sense to you?"

satoru shook his head. "no."

you snapped your finger. "exactly! you think i'm bad at explaining things, while i think of myself as great at explaining things. that's the same as you thinking you're a bad husband, while i think of you as a great husband."

"..."

"i made you speechless, meaning you agree and i'm great at philosophy!" you boosted yourself by imagining a crowd was giving you a round of applause.

your husband wonders for a moment before cackling a laugh. "that still didn't make sense to me but it brought a lot of comfort to me. thank you, y/n."

"come on! just admit you love my philosophical nonsense." you pouted, hitting his shoulder playfully.

satoru laughed once again, pulling you by waist as he buried his face in your hair. "of course i do. i love everything about you." and he would still do, always and forever.

"i'm going to miss this." you mumbled as you relaxed on his touch. satoru also agrees, kissing your head all over again.

"and i'm going to miss you too, a lot." he said sincerely. the two of you held the longest stare on this day. you just let yourselves drown with each other's enticing orbs.

satoru was the first one to break the record by sighing and rubbing his eyes. the truth is, he couldn't bear to look at you any longer because he could see how broken you looked through your eyes just because of him. instead, he hides his face once more on your neck.

“i'm really, really, really sorry, y/n. i'm so sorry for using you. i’m so sorry for cheating on you. i’m so sorry for hurting you. i'm so sorry for not choosing you again. i'm so sorry for being selfish. i'm so sorry for everything." there it is, again. his hot tears are back and now drenching your shoulder.

"i used you as a getaway from my sins and from the grief that day, y/n. you should've said no when i asked you to marry me, but why did you do the opposite?" his voice became slightly thicker, he's definitely frustrated.

"i did it for love, satoru." you answered without hesitation.

satoru momentarily stopped crying as his breath hitch. "yes, i'm already aware of your true intentions that day. but i still chose to marry you because i love you. i know it sounds so dumb but it's true." you continued.

you could feel his arms around your body tighten, scared of letting you go from nothing. it was like he was begging the gods, if there was one seeing the both of them right now, to let him be delusional and not take you away from him.

"let me ask you this time, do you regret marrying me?" you whispered.

your husband looked at you with unshed tears. "i don't. but i regret that this is the end of us."

why is it always the time where someone would tell their true feelings when everything is falling apart? so if this divorce wouldn't happen, does that mean his word would be forever kept inside him?

"i've always wanted to tell you that i was actually glad that you became my wife. i thought you would be my endgame. instead, you became the reason why i am still here and breathing."

the void of regret is slowly pulling him inside. but you are there to make sure that he would survive the gravitational pull. you just loved him so you will help to let you go.

"i love you, my sweetheart, my y/n, m-my wife..."

12:00 AM

it was quiet, really, really quiet. higuruma was looking at the two of you all over again. his eyes showed sympathy for both of you and he was sad because this is the end for you and satoru.

right now, both of you are staring blankly at the divorce paper on the table. no one was making a first move by signing it.

you let out a sigh, a heavy feeling was buried deep in your heart. your whole body feels so numb and you still haven't cried for today. everything feels so wrong, yet at the same time it feels right. you don't know what to do anymore.

as you recall your conversation with him, you just wished it didn't end and would continue forever. because you know you'll never get tired of hearing his voice, his laugh, and his philosophical nonsense too.

not to mention, you've also dreamed of building a family with him. a mini satoru and mini y/n sounds nice, doesn't it? as your eyes wandered across this apartment, you can depict your children with him running around. god, if you were dreaming, please don't wake up.

"higuruma, can you please just wait for me in the car…? i-i would like to have a final conversation with my wife." satoru suddenly spoke and nanami left without hesitation.

"so this is it?"

"yeah, t-this is the end." satoru chuckles breathlessly. there was like a big chuck on his throat that made him feel suffocating. truth to be told, he doesn't want this to be the end. but again, he has to.

"thank you for giving me a total of the best six years of my life, toru. i mean it, thank you." you counted the first four years of your relationship and the two years of your marriage. playing with your hands to mend the shakiness, it was a constant reminder that only a few minutes left before the surname satoru would be stripped of your name.

"thank you too, y/n. i also had so much fun and love these past six years. thank you for all of the things you have done for me." he said silently.

all this time, you are the only one looking at him because his eyes were focused on the paper in front of him. "good luck on your new path. i wish you the best." you intentionally called his attention.

"you're really staying here in this apartment…alone?" satoru asked you.

you let yourself smile slightly as you shifted into a more comfortable position. "yeah… just in case you feel homesick, this would be a reminder that you still have a home…only if you want to." the air in this room is very thick and it's suffocating you.

"t-thank you, y/n, really." he expressed his gratitude once again.

a nagging feeling tells you that satoru was about to go back on his decision at any minute. and you too would probably go back to your decisions you had set for both of you. it would be more devastating for you if satoru didn't achieve his plans for himself in the near future.

"let's not make higuruma wait."

satoru falls silent. now he was stuck in a madness of a dilemma. in short, he was starting to rethink his decision to the point that he didn't notice he was staining the divorce paper with tears. his hands began to shake violently along with his cries becoming louder any minute.

satoru finally lost his cool as he wailed loudly in front of you. the sound of his sobs made you clench your lip as your chest tightened once more.

you on the other hand, you're trying your best not to slip any tears down from your cheeks. you successfully stopped them from falling this morning, you couldn't afford to cry not because there's only a few minutes left before you would let yourself fall into a pit of sadness.

sensing that neither of you would make a move, you are aware that satoru couldn't bring himself to do it even though he had to. so, you gently steal the paper away from him.

divorce agreement…it read. oh how you despise those two words.

"satoru, i mentioned to you a while ago that the reason why i want to spend this last day as a married couple is because i want us to leave without holding any regrets." you started with your pen touching the paper. satoru's eyes widened, he wanted to stop you from doing it but nothing was coming out from his mouth.

"i can see it in your eyes, you're doubting your decisions." you continued as you wrote your name. in satoru's horror, only your signature is needed and everything would be over for him.

however, you stopped writing. you tapped the table to gather his attention to you. there he saw you smiling dearly at him.

"did you have fun spending time with me this whole day?" satoru knows your intention. you are encouraging him to do what he was supposed to do even if it means leaving you.

"yes…yes i do, i enjoyed being with you." he stuttered. the tears were still streaming down his face and he was using his sleeve to wipe it. you reached for the tissue and gave it to satoru as you watched him wiped his eyes and blow his nose.

"that's good to hear. i also had fun being with you. not only for this day, but the whole time i was with you, i enjoyed it." you grabbed his hands to soothe it by massaging those long and calloused fingers. satoru watches you and eventually becomes slightly calm by your actions.

you inched your lips into his fingers and kissed it delicately just like he used to do with you before. everything went blur to him and only the sound of your sweet nothing was audible into his messy world.

"i know you'll be doing great with or without me. so satoru, put more faith in yourself. this is another big step for us, and i want you to be ready just like i am." you swiftly slide the divorce paper in front of him. but this time, it has your signature on it.

satoru felt like he was being showered by the cold water as he stared at the paper with pure horror evident on his face. you finally did it, so there is no turning back now.

"h-how—when…! when did you sign it?" his voice cracked due to his frazzled emotions firing him repeatedly. satoru reaches the highest point of heartbreak he ever experienced in his life.

"when i gave you the tissue." you whispered weakly. to your dismay tears are only a slip away from your eyes a thousand times today.

"i don't want to sign it. i don't want to! i don't want to leave you anymore y/n!" he yelled. you accepted his lash out with open arms, but you can't do anything anymore. you finally signed the divorce settlement, and this paper wouldn't go if there's no signature of satoru.

you suddenly pull him into a passionate yet heartbroken kiss to shut him up. satoru eventually responds to your kiss, becoming more emotional than ever. while you are busy keeping him in company, you sneakily put the pen in his hand.

satoru felt an object in his palm, he knew you're telepathically telling him to sign the paper but he still refuses to acknowledge it, at least not yet. as he continues to devour your lips, his eyes are still producing salt tears that add more emotions in the atmosphere.

"i could see a bright future ahead of you, satoru." you muttered between the kisses.

"mhmp—you should grab it, please." you continued to deepen the kiss to lure him. but he voluntarily stepped away just to make a counter argument for that.

"but i could lose you if i do that." he whispers solemnly.

"we've already lost each other when we realized that everything was going too fast for both of us." you chuckled bitterly at your statement. "that it why it is time to face the consequences, by setting us free." you added.

"do…do you really want to do this?" he hiccups.

"this is what fate wants us to do." your voice is soothing as hell. it held no grudges nor resentment, just pure calm and adoration towards him.

but satoru still didn't bug and he still doesn't want to sign the papers.

your gaze never leaves him as satoru buries his face on his palm, weeping so quietly that you could almost hear a pin drop. it was getting so hard to watch so you looked away and slowly walked away.

"i am going out for a bit." you mumbled quietly, not waiting for him to reply or look as you walked away with your whole body shaking.

outside, there you saw higuruma leaning on his car exterior. "hey…" you greeted weakly. higuruma looked at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

"hey…how did it go?" higuruma asked, his gaze falling on the papers in your hands.

"emotional." you joked.

"so, that's the end now?"

"...yep, that's the end now."

silence engulfed both of you, just your almost steady breathings and his observing orbs burning through your skin.

"never thought satoru could cry harder than he did when geto-san…you know." higuruma said, sighing as he tucks his hands on his pockets.

you nodded. "i know. satoru lost suguru literally, while he only lost me through relationship. he'd become more vulnerable around me, and that scares the hell out of me."

"i, his weakness, has become more exposed to his enemies. i know sooner or later, they would swoon to get me just to make him fall on his knees. we don't want that to happen, i don't want to be a bait nor a cause of his downfall. temporarily or permanently, satoru must not fall, no, not anymore." you continued.

"y/n-san, i hope you would also realize that failures, downfalls, mistakes, and damages are unavoidable, gojo-kun is no exception to all of that." higuruma argues.

"satoru is going to live a good life and have a future that he deserves, so who am i to halt it?” you ignored what he said because you know he was right.

“this is a big step for both of you. i just wished that everything would go well for the two of you.” higuruma smiled at you.

“we will, eventually.” you return the smile and then excuse yourself to go back inside, just to see satoru still crying nonstop.

approaching his figure, you wrapped your arms around his body to console the man. “don't go back to me now, satoru. if you cannot bring yourself to let go, then i will help you.” you whispered into his hair.

satoru pulled away just to look at you with his teary eyes. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m really sorry.” he keeps on apologizing to you, while you just smile at him and wipe the tears in his eyes.

“it's alright, satoru. i already forgave you a long time ago.” you said.

“i can't sign it. i don't want to sign that anymore.” he confessed. a small form made its way to your temple” “but this is for both of us. don't you want to have a brand new start? how can we thrive when we both have shackles on our feet?”

“i-i thought everything was easy. i thought i could l-let you go that easily. but i was wrong. it's so hard to let go of us, y/n. and as much as i would like to do what i meant to do, it's just so hard to see us disappear from our now individual lives.” satoru buries his face on your stomach. your hands immediately made its way towards his hair as tears are threatening you once again.

“it's hard to let you go too, satoru. but it would be harder to see you suffer more when you're here with me.” it was getting late and satoru was still amidst the crisis, but you are determined to get him out of there.

“look at me, toru.” you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you. “you’ve still got a whole world to see. so don't you ever get worried about me because i’ll be more happy to see you free without any worries.

“go live a life that you weren't able to do when we were still kids. do what you always wanted to do.”

“and just so you know, i will always love you and you will always have a special place in my home.” you put his hand to your left chest where your heart lies. “here, satoru. you'll always be here.”

satoru pulled you into the tightest hug since it was literally the last and you wouldn't mind. reciprocating the hug, you finally smiled whole-heartedly and it even reached your eyes.

“whatever happens, i love you, y/n. i love you more than anything. i have loved you since the first time i saw you. and i will always love you even if this would be the last time i would see you.” throughout the six years that you two had been together, from boyfriend-girfriend relationship until to marriage—this was the very first time he declared his love to you with so much intensity.

your eyes nearly gave up on how long you've been trying to hold your tears. but you still swore that night that you'll never shed a tear unless satoru is out of the scene because you knew how much effect your crying causes him.

to hide your emotions, you pull him closer and share the last and passionate kiss as two persons who share the same surname are binded by the law. both of you could feel the emotions begin to overflow as things become more sensitive.

you were the first one to pull away as satoru was still crying. cradling his cheeks, you connected your foreheads together and said again, “let's not make higuruma wait any further.”

satoru knew it was time, time for him to finally sign the divorce paper that he's been planning for a month now.

he expected this one too just like you, so it shouldn't hurt, but why is his heart still aching? with a final stroke of his signature, satoru felt so empty. his soul feels like missing and something was taken away from him.

both have done it—a trial away and the marriage will no longer be valid. there would be no mr. and mrs. gojo now because both will live differently.

grabbing the paper with your shaky hands, you turn around at satoru and give him the final hug with a final kiss. “good luck on your new life, satoru. i’ll always cheer for you and support you until the end.”

“thank you so much, y/n. i really mean it.”

and with that, you and satoru shared the same sad smile you could utter at that moment. sure, this night will end bittersweet, but tomorrow is a brand new start.

you watched satoru walk solemnly towards the car. he looked like a ghost wandering around the vicinity without any will to search for the true paradise for him to rest. it really broke your heart that this is the end for both of you.

and with now fully signatured divorce paper on his hands, satoru felt that each step he took, he felt like fainting on the spot because of how devastating he felt.

but you cannot undo everything now. satoru had officially become your sweet memory and a stranger on the street at the same time. just as he was about to go inside the car, you called out for his name one last time.

your ex-husband looked at you with tired, red, and puffy eyes. you let yourself give the bestest smile you could offer at this moment. a smile entitled one last smile before saying a goodbye.

"if we found each other in another world, let me be your wife again!"

satoru's eyes glisten with tears once more. nevertheless, he also offers you the bestest smile he could manage. he is now letting his broken heart go out of your grasp. forcing himself to swallow and accept that in this lifetime, you are no longer his.

but if the two of you would be reborn or somewhere in the multiverse, he would pray that the two of you got the life you onced failed to build, and that was something he would wish for forever.

"of course! and i will choose you this time. we would make a family that we once dreamt of, and i will give you the honor to name our children." satoru yelled back, making your smile widen.

you could finally rest knowing that there would be a lifetime waiting for both of you somewhere in the future. and this time, you are not being delusional because you know it'll be going to happen and you'll make it happen.

"emi!"

"what?" satoru halted his steps to focus his attention on you.

"i want our first born daughter to be named emi." you've actually dreamed of having a child with him, in that dream, her name is emi. it was like a sign to you, so when you woke up, you immediately searched its meaning and found out that emi means blessed.

you are blessed.

both of you definitely feel blessed to have each other.

that being said, you have kept that name for a while now. sooner, you wished that name would be used with satoru's surname entangled to it.

because in this life, it was unfortunate not to use the name emi. you only want to use that name with him and only him. for you lived with him, loved him, and dreamed with him.

but patience is a virtue. you are willing to wait for that dream, for him. time is not a problem to you because you'd be fully patient just for him.

"have a safe journey, gojo satoru. i will be waiting for you in our next lives." you gently bow your head to send your wish for his safety.

with that, satoru enters the car without looking at you anymore. he was afraid that if he looked at you, he might find himself running back into your loving arms again.

"we'll be going now, y/n." higuruma rolled the window and waved a farewell to you.

you just nod at him while you watch the car slowly disappear from your eyesight. sad but true, you will be waking up all alone from now on 'till your thirties.

no more satoru to wake you up with cuddles. no more satoru who would make corny jokes randomly. no more satoru to who would always remind you that you have a husband. just no more satoru gojo—

drip…

a tear, followed by another, and another until it just flows uncontrollably. you are finally a crying-mess. you're letting yourself cry and let your emotions out by a shout of pain escaping out from your lips.

it was all over.

satoru chooses his life over you, and you choose satoru over your life. with your knees planted on the pavement, your hand travels towards your mouth to cover your loud painful sobs.

all of the tears that you had been keeping since this morning, finally had their freedom to flow at your cheeks along with anguish scream that came out of your broken heart.

you finally lost this time.

[a special chapter will be posted soon, so stay tuned and just comment if you want to be added on the taglist for this one — ©luvvixu2024]

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ best christmas ever ] q. hughes

day eight of malia’s christmas fic marathon

pairing : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) gives fiancé Quinn what could be considered the best Christmas present he’s ever gotten

warning(s) : pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage

author’s note : i think this could be considered a blurb w how short it is tbh but here’s this cute lil thing :)

༺═──────────────═༻

Her hands shake as Quinn unwraps the present that is going to change his entire life. Keeping this a secret for nearly two weeks has been killing her so the fact that her fiancé is seconds away from finding out is exciting and terrifying at the same time.

It's the last present that is being unwrapped this morning while it's just the two of them in their Vancouver apartment. (Y/N) made sure it was the last present unwrapped by taking it out of the closet after all the gifts under the tree from friends and family were opened.

Quinn tosses the ripped up wrapping paper into the trash bag on the ground between them before he opens the box.

Inside is a little Canucks jersey with Quinn's number and 'C'. Quinn is clearly very confused by the tiny jersey so she says, "Turn it around, Quinn."

Laughter is evident in her voice but she doesn't know if it's because of Quinn's confusion or because she's nervous.

She watches his eyes widen when he sees the back of the jersey. In place of Hughes on the back of the jersey is the word "daddy". Quinn looks over at (Y/N) with those wide eyes. "You better not be lying to me, (Y/N)," he says so seriously.

"Eight weeks," she tells him as she rests a hand on the very tiny bump that is under the large t-shirt she's wearing. "I found out three weeks ago and went to make sure everything was okay two weeks ago. When I was told that everything with this baby was perfect, I got the jersey made."

After they lost their last little one over the summer very early on, she didn't want to get Quinn's hopes up again so she went and got every single test done that she could before she told him. The last thing she wanted was to tell him then lose another baby. It nearly broke her in June, and almost broke them.

She couldn't do that again. Not this time.

"You kept this from me for three weeks?" Quinn asks. His voice is soft so he isn't mad. She stays quiet and nods. "Is everything okay?"

(Y/N) slowly nods, still hesitant. "Baby H is growing and developing at the rate they're supposed to be this time," she assures him. "I'm healthy. Baby is healthy. I just needed to be sure before I told you this time. I know how much you want to be a dad and I didn't want to get your hopes up then my body let you down for the second time."

Tears that she didn't know formed in her eyes spill onto her cheeks. She does her best to wipe them away quickly, but he notices them.

Quinn puts the jersey back in the box and moves close to her. He pulls her into a tight hug and she buries her face into his shoulder.

"Your body just wasn't ready last time," Quinn softly tells her as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I love you. I'm so excited to be here with you for the rest of your pregnancy. You're already an amazing mom."

She lets out a silent sob into Quinn's shoulder before she pulls back. "You're not mad I didn't tell you when I found out?" she questions.

"Absolutely not," he assures her with a smile on his lips. She can see that he's genuine when he says that. "I'm happy to know now. I can't wait to go to every appointment with you now. I can't wait to see our baby when you have an ultrasound done. I can't wait to tell all our friends and family and my teammates. I can't wait to meet Baby H. (Y/N), I'm so excited."

His happiness quickly erases any anxiety she felt before he opened that box. She can tell how excited he is about the next chapter in their lives. "Glad I didn't ruin your Christmas by telling you," she jokes.

"Are you kidding?" Quinn says. "This is probably the best Christmas ever. We're going to have a baby. This is the best present I think I have ever gotten on Christmas. Knowing we're going to start the family we have always wanted together is the best present."

A smile finally forms on (Y/N)'s lips. "We're going to have a baby," she softly echoes. Quinn nods and matches her smile.

She launches herself at him, finally sharing the happiness that Quinn is feeling. He falls onto his back onto the carpeted floor and catches her in his arms. He laughs and wraps his arms around her waist. He stares up at his fiancée. "We get to finally be parents," he tells her. "Our rainbow baby."

"Our rainbow baby."

༺═──────────────═༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dancerbailey3 @dasiysthings @axaslee

[lividstar]

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ Masterpost

៚ wc: ✍️

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ To hope for a miracle while standing still and not doing anything to initiate any form of change is just about as foolish as avoiding the gaze of your phone screen while waiting for an app to download thinking such an action would make the waiting process any shorter. Upon learning this portion of the reality of life, you decide to break free from the confines of your hometown and move to Paris in hopes of a new season of your life unfolding. What’s un(fortunate) is you weren’t expecting your designated miracle to come in the form of a fashion designer named Kim Hongjoong.

started: june 30, 2024 | finished: ongoing

Chapter One: A Change (wc: 9k)

🍂 Moving to Paris in order to leave your past in Arcadia Bay had been a long-term goal for a while now, and you were more than excited to finally have this dream of yours within your grasp. Of course, things won’t always turn out well consistently, and you had to be reminded of this in the worst way possible.

Chapter Two: Unexpected Encounters (wc: 8k)

🍂 You were now on your fifth job hunt for the week, and even though you were hoping for it to, for once, actually turn out to be a success, indifference spreads through you as the search concludes on a dead end once again. Just as you were about to head home, a sudden surprise catches up to you, nearly out of breath.

Chapter Three: Inspiration (wc: 4k)

🍂 The thought of entering the world of fashion and modeling seemed daunting, but you’d rather have your suffering come from getting perceived than not having at least a sufficient amount of money to make sure your last days won’t be spent in Paris. Looking through the stolen-but-not-really sketchbook in your possession for outfit inspiration, you’re caught in a state of shock when something you thought had finally left you behind suddenly came back to bite you. One question hung heavy in your mind: Why?

Chapter Four: A Pleasant Twist (wc: 5k)

🍂 What started as a plan for a quiet walk in the park quickly turned eventful when you bumped into Madame Dupont, who was heading out for groceries. Choosing to assist her instead, two occurrences you didn’t see coming saw the light of the day: A. Running into Seonghwa, and B. Receiving an offer from Madame Dupont to help with your upcoming casting.

Chapter Five: Consequences (wc: 8k)

🍂 During the high-stakes fashion casting, you impress the judges but are later alarmed to discover that the agency’s influential creative director is the owner of the sketchbook that not only did you accidentally take home, yet also used one of its designs as inspiration for your attire, leaving you fearful about the potential consequences for your budding career. As the weight of this realization sinks in, you can't help but worry how you would entangle the knots of the predicament you’re now under.

Chapter Six: A New Companion (wc: 5k)

🍂 The tension mounts as you anxiously await a message from the directors. A call from Seonghwa bringing you the not-so-good news of you passing the first round of the casting brings mixed emotions, and a walk in the park offers a brief escape from your spiraling worries. Returning home, you find comfort in the unexpected presence of Pompidou, Monsieur Frank’s mischievous feline. As the day of the callback arrives, the pressure intensifies, culminating in a nerve-wracking evaluation before Hongjoong and the casting panel.

Chapter Seven: Resolve (wc: 12.1k)

🍂 Seonghwa invites you to the serene local park where he delivers the exciting news that you’ve secured the modeling job, marking a significant step forward in your new life in Paris. However, as you bask in the joy of this achievement, a nagging concern about Hongjoong’s sketchbook lingers in your mind. By the time you get your first modeling gig, you form a plan to return it to him on the very same day, but the uncertainty of how he will react keeps you on edge. Could things possibly get any worse than they already are?

Chapter Eight: A Great Friend (wc: 11.5k)

🍂 Your day immediately turns eventful at the very second you open your eyes, receiving a congratulatory message from Hongjoong which was apparently because of your sudden popularity that skyrocketed overnight, following your first photoshoot. As you grapple with this sudden surge of attention, Seonghwa offers a welcome distraction by suggesting you assist Hongjoong with his designs for the upcoming autumn collection, all of which are still in progress.

Chapter Nine: May I Have This Dance? (wc: 10.3k)

🍂 The initial plan was to stay the night in Hongjoong’s art studio to finish one of his designs, but as one thread tangled itself into another and kept the chain going, a series of unexpectedly charming experiences began to unfold, one of which contains running an errand to buy flowers for Madame Dupont’s vases—the very event that led to you and Hongjoong enjoying a little sophisticated dancing session while moving to the soft melody of La Vie En Rose.

Chapter Ten: Push and Pull (wc: 4.6k)

🍂 The memory of what happened—or what had almost happened last night, still remained fresh in your mind. As a result, you find yourself on edge as you head to Hongjoong’s agency per Seonghwa’s request, still processing the events that had unfurled. Upon arrival, you notice Hongjoong acting distant, leaving you uneasy. Seonghwa, sensing your discomfort, tries to lighten the mood and catch up, but the tension lingers in your mind as you try to make sense of Hongjoong's sudden change in behavior.

Chapter Eleven: You Wonder why I’m Bitter (wc: 8.2k)

🍂 Alone and aching for the connection that once felt so natural, you reluctantly turn to an unlikely companion: Pompidou, who listens to you pour out all the longing you’ve fought so hard to bury. While you grapple with the emptiness left by Hongjoong’s sudden withdrawal, he, too, finds himself lost, wrestling with the very feelings he’s tried to deny. Haunted by memories and choices he can’t quite reconcile, Hongjoong is caught between the familiarity of the past and the confusing reality of the present.

Chapter Twelve: Ma Meilleure Ennemie (wc: 10k)

🍂 The night is electric, filled with fleeting glances, moments of tension, and unspoken words hanging in the air. You find yourself caught in a delicate dance between the past and the present, as old wounds resurface in the most unexpected ways. But just when you think you’ve built a wall strong enough to keep it all out, everything comes crashing down. Who can you trust when even your own heart feels like a stranger? Will you finally face what’s been lurking in the shadows, or will you keep running, hoping the past will stay buried? The answers are closer than you think—but are you ready to hear them?

🪞 — lividstar.

[rwrbficrecs]

WIP Wednesday

A bit late but happy new year 🎊 starting the year off strong with 10 WIP recs - enjoy!! ❤️

the world forgetting, by the world forgot by @leaves-of-laurelin (book-verse)

@dot524: This is an extraordinarily sad and poignant story about the tragedy of a failed relationship and the efforts to bring it back together. Alex and Henry used to be together, but they grew apart. As part of their breakup, Henry underwent a procedure that caused him to forget Alex, and Alex decides to do the same thing. What will they do when they realize that it was a mistake? This is an Eternal Sunlight of the Spotless Mind AU, and I’m not familiar with that story, but the fic is engrossing and well-done. It’s also almost finished. Check it out!

Like Because, Love Despite by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@dot524: Alex and Henry are work rivals who are both working themselves to the bone. It turns out that they used to be together, but they broke up. Their assistants, Nora and Pez, have come up with a plan to get them together - mainly to make their own jobs tolerable. But Alex and Henry are working through a painful past, and things are not always as they seem. I was snorting reading the most recent chapter - this one is just fun, joyful, and hilarious. Plus there are some flashbacks to their relationship that make you feel all the feels. Can’t wait to see how the author gets these two together!

Break Out by @cricketnationrise (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: Ice hockey is the perfect setup for an MLM romance, right?! Novels like Time to Shine are a prime example, and there are already some amazing firstprince x ice hockey AUs out there. And now, cricketnationrise started one too – yay !! Humor, fluff, and eventual smut – ok, enough said, I’m in!

i'll be riding shotgun by @callmevenji (book-verse)

@na-dineee: As with ice hockey, road trips are just as popular setups for many beautiful rwrb fanfics. With this one, I’m able to tick off some of my favourite tropes, like enemies to lovers, oblivious Alex with abandonment issues, or found family. The author’s previous fics have always amazed me, and I’m sure this one will be no different – the setup is just too good!

tis the damn season by @littlemisskittentoes (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I think this is Sarah’s first multi-chap fic? Alex and Henry were childhood best friends, a friendship that meant the world to Alex. But that’s all in the past. Still, Alex’s stubborn heart never stopped loving Henry... The WiP is posted about halfway through, and it’s as beautifully poetic as you’d expect from Sarah. The small town setting gives off such cozy vibes – it’s just so lovely !!

The Love Lasts So Long by @chaa-kiao (book-verse)

@na-dineee: The Foxes are close friends of the Claremont-Diazes. However, Alex can’t stand Henry. Like, not at all !! Naturally he's kind of shocked/annoyed to find out that Henry will be spending Christmas with them. As usual, Alex is totally oblivious to his feelings, but they'll get there, won't they?! I love this author, and am so glad that they're posting again. A story about falling in love, discovering their feelings, and the magic of Christmas - even in January just perfect.

The Final Rose by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex is the new Bachelor, and it's Henry's job to keep everything running smoothly. Of course, the whole thing gets off to a rocky start. Henry can't stand Alex and his easy charm, but as he gets to know him, he starts to warm up, realising his feelings are anything but professional. Are we here for this?!! Yes, we are, aren’t we?!

Sweet Little Lies by @celaestis1 (book-verse)

@dot524: Canon divergent AU where Alex misses the royal wedding and Cake-gate never happened, but a flirtation between June and Henry and a lavender relationship did instead. Alex is still obsessed with Henry and has to confront his own feelings as the situation unfolds. So excited to see where this goes, especially since I’ve loved this author’s other works!

Driven to Distraction by @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Since last year’s photos of TZP and Nick at F1 events, we’ve all been waiting (okay, maybe just me … but you too, right?!) for this AU. And now it’s here, written by none other than happinessofthepursuit. It’s going to be 10 chapters, rated E, Enemies to Lovers—and chapter 1 already leaves you wanting more.

Married at First Sight by @omgcmere (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: If you heard squealing across the oceans on Sunday, it was probably me when I saw the email notification for this beloved author publishing her first fic in 3 years. Alex and Henry sign up to do a reality show (if you haven't watched it, don't worry. I haven't and I'm enjoying it all the same!) in which they are supposed to get married to a complete stranger--except it turns out they already know each other, and Alex has been nursing a grudge for years. We're only a chapter in but the tension has already built up to an excellent level and I can't wait to keep reading.

check out our past WIP recs here ❤️

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake: Bоnus Stаge (spoilers!!)

Love For Love's Sake (Love Supremacy Zone): bonus stagе is a short spin-off story from the author of the original novel, released in June 2024 (after the drama series). It's about 19yo Tae Myungha (from Game World) being transferred into the future and him slowly realizing how 29yo Myungha has been living happy 10 years with Cha Yeowoon and friends.

I promised to keep talking about it and thank you, guys, for enabling me xD Before translating bits from chapters, here's the full summary of everything that happened in this story – for those of you who are not that patient and don't fear spoilers :] I'll put them under more anyway so those who don't want to read the summary won't read them accidentally!

Warnings: suicidal intentions

Let me know your thoughts about this spinoff *д*

Love for Love's Sake: Bonus Stage (summary)

"If your life was a book, what would you want it be about?" "How would the first chapter begin and what sentence would be the last one?" "I wish it was about love."

19yo Myungha (so before canon timeline) is playing games in PC cafe. He doesn't really have money but wants to spend time so he wouldn't have to live it

On the crossroad, he sees a child running before the signal changes, and he jumps to save them but instead of getting hit, he feels like falling. He sees sunbae who pushes him. Message [World has been changed] appears.

Myungha finds himself in the arms of a handsome man who knows him - but he doesn't know this man. Myungha runs away but the man is faster.

[Mission: Make Tae Myungha happy.] [Reward: Memory] [Clear until (0%) ♥♥♥♥♥] [Penalty: Can't return to the original timeline]

Myungha is diagnosed with amnesia. He should be 29yo now, so he just goes along. Yeowoon decides to start over again and introduces himself.

Yeowoon and Myungha have been living together for 6 years and dating for 10 years. 19-Myungha is shocked to know this.

Ahn Sia, Kyunghoon and Sangwon immediately run to check whether Myungha is okay, 19-Myungha is shocked that people worry about him and they've been friends for 10 years.

Yeowoon asked if Myungha would hypothetically date him - just to make sure - but he still wouldn't let Sangwon in before others come (he's sooo jealous)

Sangwon finds younger Myungha a lot of fun, Yeowoon wants to fight with him. Others come, so they try to figure out what's happening.

29yo Myungha is a teacher respected by kids. The girl in his class wanted to kill herself so she went to the rooftop, Myungha ran after her but ended up falling down, and Yeowoon caught him (19-Myungha)

Sia is a shopping mall CEO and a popular influencer now, Kyunghoon does photography/filming professionally, Sangwon introduces himself as 'the one who Myungha rejected when he was 18yo'.

Everyone wants to have chicken and beer but 19-Myungha is a minor so they have chicken and cola and a group sleepover at Myungha/Yeowoon's house :]

Yeowoon tried to sleep with Myungha in one bed but eventually ran away to the living room, flustered.

They all decide to do a trip down the memory lane, since Myungha is "having amnesia".

Yeowoon is a gold medalist now, and many kids go to Shinyeop school now because he made it prestigious.

They visit old Yeowoon's house, and Yeowoon quietly tells him they had kissed here for the first time (on the stairs) 19-Myungha is flustered because he feels feelings that he doesn't know the source of. But he never had his first kiss, never thought about ideal type or love so he's can't stop thinking about it. He tried to take Yeowoon's hand but ran out of time.

After this trip, in the car Myungha clears 20% of his mission and sees flashbacks from the 10 passed years: how they were grilling meat at the rooftop, how they played at the sea.

Yeowoon went to the store to get ice cream, while Myungha and Sangwon were left alone waiting. Sangwon told 19-Myungha about precious memories with him (dogs!), how he was his first love and he kept regretting what if he made a different first impression on Myungha – and now he can.

So he asks for one more chance to start over but gets rejected because Yeowoon was faster once again. Sangwon accepts that his first love is finally over and walks away.

Yeowoon says he likes Myungha more anyway, but 19-Myungha doesn't know it so Yeowoon says he'll teach him. They go to amusement park (closed again) by the sea.

Myungha insists on going to the popular cafe, Yeowoon is hesitant but doesn't reveal the truth until Myungha meets his mom there. Yeowoon takes him away in a hurry as 19-Myungha wants to talk to her in anger. Myungha cries. He thinks if he didn't have Yeowoon next to him now, his mom's reaction would be his last straw.

Mission is cleared to 40%. 19-Myungha sees 18yo Yeowoon crying and being comforted by "him".

19-Myungha thinks the person Yeowoon fell in love with is nothing like him, so he runs away. Yeowoon catches up with him.

Suddenly, they meet his fans. 19-Myungha is confused to learn he's quite popular and has 100k followers on his YT channel where he's been posting vlogs for 10 years (Yeowoon made him do it). He's used to being widely hated as a Crazy Dog, and not widely loved.

19-Myungha doesn't want to restore memories because he doesn't want to return to his original timeline. But he also feels acutely that 29-Myungha is a very different person from him. So he openly tells Yeowoon about the game mission, and Yeowoon believes him.

They return home, and 19-Myungha notices that Yeowoon still cherishes him like they were new lovers and not 10yo couple that usually feels like a family. Yeowoon was testing his reaction to skinship. Myungha calls him to sleep and teases him for having dirty thoughts.

19-Myungha is scared to sleep because he fears to wake up from a good dream. Yeowoon comforts him, while Myungha teases again and asks whether he's going to kiss. Yeowoon responds he'll wait until Myungha does it himself, like the first time (I guess, it's a bit different from drama?)

In the morning, Myungha learns that his grandma is still alive in this timeline and is in the hospital with injured leg. He rushes there and cries a little seeing her alive. He pleads her to come live with them but the grandma is like 'wtf this kid gone insane'.

His memories are cleared until 60% and he remembers time spent with his grandma.

19-Myungha watches videos on "his" Youtube channel and he sees what kind of life 29-Myungha lived and what kind of person he was. He finds they weren't actually that different and he could become him. He sees how liked he was and what kind of person younger Yeowoon was too.

They go to get groceries, and suddenly 19-Myungha is surrounded by kids that claim he's their homeroom teacher. Yeowoon saves him from awkwardness, it seems like they don't know Yeowoon and Myungha are dating. The kids say that their entire class will always love their teacher Myungha, and 19-Myungha understands why he chose this job.

Mission is cleared until 80%. He sees flashbacks from teaching kids, he still keeps in touch with the ones that left. 19-Myungha starts to smile.

But he still doesn't want to go home, he's also scared that original Myungha comes back and he will disappear. He doesn't want to leave.

Yeowoon tells him he'll be waiting for him even if he goes back to his time. He tells him to return and find 18yo Yeowoon, because he exists there and he will definitely like and choose Myungha.

Myungha is overwhelmed with feelings and goes to kiss Yeowoon. This time he's the inexperienced one.

The timeline written down by Myungha: "First meeting at 19, first fight at 20, living together at 23, passing teacher's exam, Yeowoon breaking the world record, Myungha becoming homeroom teacher, having 5 anniversary trip".

Last 20% are still missing. He's waiting for Yeowoon to come home, he returns with the cake and flowers. It's their 10th anniversary today, so Yeowoon insists he still has to celebrate, despite the situation. Myungha feels bad that he always forgets about anniversaries.

Yeowoon proposes to Myungha. He gives him his wedding plan and prepared funds.

Myungha laughs (while Yeowoon is annoyed :D) and gets positive buff, as he falls in love. [Mission is cleared until 99.9%]. He witnesses more happy flashbacks.

Because it's legally difficult, Yeowoon still wants to get married. Myungha tells him if he proposes again in 10 years, he'll accept. And teases him for being in such a rush to speedrun the relationship.

He remembers all memories from 10 years of their life and love together, he tells Yeowoon 'of course' and finally decides to return home and meet Yeowoon in his own timeline.

But Myungha is scared because there's still 0.1% to fail. He remembers the sunbae who pushed him before the world has changed. He wonders who that was.

He sees himself talking with sunbae, who asks him what is happy life to Myungha and if his life was a book, what would it be about.

"If your life was a book, what would you want it be about?" Someone is asking next to me. "...love. I wish it was about love." I wished that this thing, which was so common that I could hear about it everywhere but have never really felt it, could exist in my life too. The sunbae smiled quietly. "I just decided on a title".

Sunbae tells Myungha that humans are made of stars and apologizes that he was so late. He asks him to live the way he wants to.

He pushes him again. Message [The world has been changed] appears.

29yo Myungha wakes up next to Yeowoon and immediately goes to hug him. He finally feels like his soul and body are perfectly aligned, and he remembers how lonely he was when he was 19.

He tells Yeowoon they'll go see stars on their honeymoon trip. But first, they want to take a trip to Taiwan and the grandma is bitter they're not taking her with them because she's convinced they're gonna secretly get married there. But Myungha and Yeowoon want to get married in Korea.

[Mission: Make Tae Myungha happy is completed with 100%]

29-Myungha goes to meet the girl in his class who he saved on the rooftop. They both talk about how they don't want to die anymore and they should never give up. The girl also says Yeowoon suits him well, and Myungha promises to invite her to their wedding.

[END OF THE GAME.]

[LOADING]

19yo Myungha gets back to his conscience on the street, as someone asks him if he's okay. He is surprised to see Yeowoon, while Yeowoon is displeased that Myungha knows his name since they never met before.

Yeowoon walks away, but Myungha starts running after him.

[ENTERING THE LOVE SUPREMACY ZONE]

That's it 🥺 Of course, there are many amazing and touching moments in the story itself but I wrote down the main points. Aren't they precious?!

Tag list: @pickletrip @bunni-bun @illuminutiae @kaleidoskuls @delesaria-blog @maybe-boys-do-love

[thekombuchagirl]

CODE ZERO

Summary: It was an ordinary humid sunday of June until it wasn't. Of all things you expected to happen in the summer of '25, preventing the spread of another epidemic wasn't one. Locked in the pantry of a cafe with a masked stranger, all you could hear outside were animalistic groans and the occasional crackle of breaking bones. Just when you thought that the last moments of your life would be sitting across an intimidatingly hot man, a table flips, literally.

Pairing: discharged soldier!yoongi x fem journalist!reader

what to expect? gore, zombies, banter in the face of death, explicit language, yoongi walks around in a tank with a manbun for a whole day, reader develops a liking for smashing skulls halfway through the story, sexual tension that can be cut with a knife and eventual smut

Age rating: 18+ mdni!

Tags: @ktownshizzle @mysteriousgeminizone

chapter warnings: gore, graphic description of violence, mentions of death, cursing

a/n: hello! thank you so much for reading my story and if you can take a minute to drop your valuable feedback that would be even more amazing!

C H A P T E R O N E

"No network, nothing at all. Can you check yours once again please?"

You looked expectantly at the man sitting by the door. His mask was now hanging on his chin and it had been irking you for a while. Why wear a mask at all if it is not actually masking anything? But you let it be since he was the one who saved you from whatever was happening outside and he looked awfully familiar. The more you looked at him the more familiar he looked but you couldn't put a finger on where exactly you knew him from. He didn't seem to think the same for you, however.

"For the seventh time in the last ten minutes, no. There is no network. Not in yours. Not in mine. Because it has been shut down."

He spoke in small sentences, pronouncing each word like he was speaking to a child. It only annoyed you further. You weren't asking to play games on his phone or something. You were asking because there was something out there that was making people rip each other's skin like paper and bite off their flesh. It was probably the end of the world and the man in front of you was unbothered and even annoyed at your very obvious concern.

"How do you plan to get out of here then? We can't call for emergency services-"

"Out of here? Emergency service? Woah," he slid up against the door, dusting his arse and for the first time since you encountered him, broke into a fit of laughter. "Do you think the government people will come to save you with those things out there? The ministers are probably out of the country by now and the town is under lockdown. The end of the world shit is only for the ordinary folks. For people like us. When the world ends for us, it is just renovation for them."

The nonchalance was gone instead his dark eyes were suddenly filled with fury. You hated to admit it to yourself but he was right. The government was going to do no good any time soon and you knew it, more than anyone else. But you didn't like his tone. You didn't like how he was talking down to you from the beginning for no reason. All the points that he won for saving you were exhausted. So it didn't take you a lot of effort to match his tone.

"So what? We just sit here waiting for those things to break in eventually and then what?"

He stared at you wordlessly. When his nonchalance had dropped, that was the first second of satisfaction for you. Now that he was staring at you silently, you felt that satisfaction grow in you. It made no sense for you to be that petty in that situation but then again, too much was happening in too little time.

"What? Nothing to say any-"

"Don't move."

Your blood ran cold. You could see it now. His eyes weren't on you, they were focused on something behind you. The skin on your back tingled and your vision blurred. You could hear a soft thud and then a scratch, as if someone was dragging their feet. It was coming closer and closer. Before long, you finally heard it. A growl.

Through your blurred vision, you could only see the man in front of you. His pale skin was blindingly bright now that there was light flooding in from the back. Why didn't you check for a door at the back? Why did you let your guards down? You could see his dark brown orbs flit back and forth between you and the thing behind you. For a moment, you wished he would save you again. But why would he when he could push you off as bait and take his chance of escape?

You closed your eyes. You could feel your knees slowly give away as your childhood, your teenage and your years working as an investigative journalist flash before your eyes. Your colleagues had always despised you because you'd somehow manage to avoid the risky cases, ones where you could come close to the face of death. They would probably be glad to know how you went. But there was so much left to be done. It felt too soon. You were leaving too soon.

A snarl and then a choked out growl rumbled in the air behind you. This was it. You took one deep breath. This was it. You exhaled.

That's when a table flipped. Literally.

You heard the crash before you opened your eyes to see it. A broken table that had been lying useless beside the door was now on top of the... thing and by it stood the man. Eyes on the thrashing creature at his foot. It couldn't remove the heavy table from itself. It didn't have hands. There was nothing below its elbows and a dark liquid was dripping from the open joints.

You didn't even realise you were on the floor until the man was pulling you on to your feet, his lips moving. He was talking to you. But all you could hear was a sharp whistle and then buzzing. You could only stare at him, a stranger who saved you once again when he had no need to. Even as he dragged you towards the back of the pantry, you just stared at him. You didn't know how he could tell but just by the open back door, he turned to you and held you by your shoulders and shook you.

"Put it together. We have to leave. I need you in your complete consciousness if we have to leave here alive."

Then it all hit you. The wailing creature below the heavy table was growling at the top of its voice and the other side of the pantry door was about to give away as the thudding of multiple bodies hitting against it, made it creak and shake.

"Are you listening? We have to-"

"Let's go," you nodded at him. If life had given you another chance, you must make the most of it.

"Can you run well?"

"Women run the world."

"Let's fucking go, then."

Your watch was broken. Just your luck. You had no idea how long the both of you ran through the deserted streets. The street lights were off and the houses along the streets felt like they were part of an abandoned civilisation that died away long ago. Abandoned cars and motorcycles left with traces of a darkened fluid that you could only assume was blood. Everywhere you could only see blood. It was making your whole body ache, your feet weighing heavier and heavier as you realised that it was really happening.

You were running so fast that it only occurred to you how far you had come when you noticed the man slowing down as the police station came into sight. On the street before the station, there were two cars that appeared to have been in an accident. You stepped forward towards the station only to be pulled back by the man once again.

"There," he pointed to the entrance of the station but you could barely see anything in the dark. As you squinted to see, your eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness and inside, you could see shadows moving. A shiver ran down your spine. There was no way they were uninfected. A sense of hopelessness washed over your body.

You turned to the man beside you, "where should we go? The hotel that I was staying in is on the other side of the city. We can't reach there on foot."

He nodded at that, "Yeah. Seaside is too far so our best bet would be to take a car."

You looked around the street and the abandoned cars standing around, "one of these?"

"Ideally, yes. But we need to make sure that it has enough fuel. We can't afford to stop at any gas stations once we start."

You walked towards one of the cars with the driver side door left open. It was exceptionally clean. No bloodstains on the windshield or on the seats. You leaned in to check for the key but couldn't find it around. A sparkle of something by the gear caught your eye so you bent over to check it out.

"A stupid candy," you murmured under your breath as you took your upper body out of the car only to come face to face with the man, who was leaning by the side of the door.

"Keep it," he nodded at you, eyes fixated on you like they were back at the pantry of the cafe. He was standing close. So close that if you took another step, your noses would bump into each other. Up close, he felt more familiar than ever. You were sure you had met him before so you couldn't resist asking.

"Have we met be-"

You didn't even know you had it in you to move that fast. One moment you were looking at him and the next you were pulling him back and behind you. From behind the car appeared something that you could never even have seen in your nightmare. It was a man or at least it used to be a man. His mouth hung open, lips split on the side abnormally. It was as if he had ripped his mouth open to take a massive bite of something. With his one eye open, he was dragging himself to the side of the car where you stood and from the other, a pen was sticking out through his split eyeball. As his full body came to view, a huge chunk of his shoulder was missing and the white of the bones was dripping with dark red.

"Holy shit- fuck. Fuck. Fuck," you stumbled backwards with the man right behind you. "We need to run. Run. Run. Fucking hell, just run."

"We won't be able to make it on foot. Look," he pointed towards the police station out of which more of those things were coming out like flies. So many. Of course. If the station was as packed as you had seen it when you were on your way to the cafe, then there had to be hundreds of those in there.

"Motherfuck-"

"Come on," he pulled you backwards by your arm. By then the night sky was filled with growls and snarls as those things started coming out of every house, every corner.

A horde of those things were emerging out of all those abandoned houses that you had crossed and you spluttered in disbelief as he dragged you right towards them.

"What the fucking fuck. No. Are you suicidal you maniac? Why are we going towards them? No. I am not-"

Instead of replying he just tugged on your arm harder, now sprinting towards the horde. You could only turn your head back for a split second but that was enough for you. You were doomed and surrounded. The man dragging you was relentless. As the distance between the horde and you two decreased and decreased, from inside you a strange sensation bubbled out. You didn't have it in you to reform your subconscious so you let it surface and it came out as laughter. As the man dragged you ahead, you laughed your heart out.

He looked back at you for a second with furrowed eyebrows and when he saw you laughing so much that your eyes were tearing up, he couldn't help but comment, "what a fucking psycho-"

At that moment, as the two of you reached so close to the horde that their extended arms were about to touch your skin, he left your side.

Horrified you turn to your side to curse him out for betraying you at the end, only to find him on top of a motorcycle that somehow had the key in it. He looked at you, with the subtlest smirk, ushering you on.

"What the fuck."

You got on just in time and off you went straight towards the other side. The horde that had emerged out of the police station was more scattered because they seemed confused at the quick direction changes. As the motorcycle breezed past the infected with zig zags that would have normally made you insanely mad, you let out a sigh. The road ahead was clear. You were saved. Again.

The entire city seemed to be under a powercut as you went through the blocks. The wind crashing against your face made your eyes flutter close. You didn't realise how exhausted you were. But even in that exhaustion, you couldn't help but be grateful to the man who had once again saved you. His hair fell in soft waves till almost his shoulders. You couldn't contain the sudden rush of emotions that ran through your body. In the span of a day, everything turned upside down.

In the exhaustion washing over your senses, you found it easy to be grateful. So you leaned in closer to the man, your chin nearly resting on his shoulder as you finally asked what you should have asked hours ago.

"What's your name?"

The wind cut through your voice making your question sound barely coherent. He confirmed your thoughts when he turned his head to the side, "Huh?"

"Your name. What's your name?"

You asked louder this time. His shoulders shook as if he was chuckling. Soon enough you could hear him again, his voice laced with humour, "Finally cared to ask?"

"Just say it. You're annoying enough," you made sure your tone was fussy enough but you couldn't help the smile that was tugging on your lips.

"Yoongi. Min Yoongi."

You nodded. Not that he could see you.

"Now, hold on tight," what he said next immediately made your smile drop.

How on earth did he know your name?

[slvttysstuff]

REBOUND chapter 5

chapter 1

https://www.tumblr.com/slvttysstuff/738042134255583232/rebound?source=share

Chapter 2

https://www.tumblr.com/slvttysstuff/738478643741884416/rebound?source=share

Chapter 3

https://www.tumblr.com/slvttysstuff/738741624067244032/rebound-chapter-3?source=share

Chapter 4

https://www.tumblr.com/slvttysstuff/738994933866905600/rebound-chapter-4?source=share

Summary: months after shelly and jay broke up he found himself in a relationship with you while he hasn't moved on yet from his past lover (shelly)

Warnings: grammatical error

¤.•⨳•.*☆✬✬☆*.•⨳•.¤⊹

You with the others decided heading towards your home except for Mia who was phone called by her mom needing her help for something, even though she wanted to tag along she can't

You unzipped your bag finding the house key in the small pouch inside of it while the others were waiting at your back " You got some huge house y/n " June said looking at the two floored house with white,brown and black painted walls

As I was about to enter the key inside the hole the gate swung opened revealing a middle aged woman " hey mom " I greeted as the others bow in front of my mom as a sign of respect and greeting her as well

" what happened to your face?! " My mom exclaimed as she went towards me holding my cheeks scanning those Bandages that were in my face " oh I fell while racing mom " I explained her looks sustain with worries seeing those bandage on my face " did they treat them already? Want me to take a look at it? " My mom asked

I shook my head in response " mom I'm fine, they already clean it up, can we go inside? " I asked as I assure my mom that I was completely fine, she looks over my unfamiliar friends, scanning them one by one not until her eyes landed on jay " oh I see you brought your friends with you, sure come in! " She smiled as she let my friends in

She followed us inside as I told them that they can sit on the couch " mom? Are you going somewhere? " I asked and she nodded " yeah I was just about to head back to the hospital, I have my shift later so don't wait for me " she explained, she's a doctor along with jay's mom that's why both jay and I knew since we were kids because of them

I nodded my head " sure take care " I said to her and gave her a small kiss on the cheeks, " thanks darling " she tooked her bag and was ready to head out " oh wait, I forgot, Owen called earlier he was asking for you but I told him that you weren't at the house that time " she said as I nodded my head in response and then she left

" who's Owen? " Minu asked once my mom left, " oh he was a friend of mine " I answered looking at them " a Friend? We don't see him with you huh? Or we don't see you hanging out with that friend " Dom looked at me confused his finger were at his nose

" idiot of course we couldn't hang out he's living in England " I answered rolling my eyes, they looked at me as if I was lying " England?! " Dom asked I nodded my head " enough with questions! What do you want to eat? I'll cook " I said as I looked at them, " I'm craving for fried chicken right now " Dom said as he layed his head on yuna'a shoulder while rubbing his tummy

" yah! Get off me you stink! " Yuna grumble as she pushes Dom's head " Im craving for ramen " minu said also doing the same with Dom's, I nodded my head at them as I looked over to the four who wasn't saying anything" what about you guys? " I asked " wasn't it too much already? Ramen and fried chicken is enough " June stated " we can have what they want " yuna answered looking over me

I nodded my head " sure I'll cook now, you guys can do anything just don't break things please my mom will kill me " I begged " no need to worry madam! " Dom winked With a wide grin on his face " Ew " yuna mumbled

" I'll go with you " Vinny stood up " I'll help you " jay also stood up, they stopped and looked at each other while the others were watching them " just rest the two of you " I said placing my hands on my waist as I watched them glaring at each other ' what's their problem? '

" I'll help you with the ramen " Vinny said as Dom clapped " yes you should! Your ramen is the most delicious! " Dom said as he did a chef kissed gesture making Vinny looked at him annoyed, " sure " I chuckled " just stay here and rest jay " I said one last time before walking away with Vinny following me

While cooking Vinny spoke " earlier, when you and Dom got into accident, jay was really worried " Vinny said " especially when you fell, he was ready to stop and forget the race and just run towards you " he continues, I was silent I didn't know what to say or answer I just put the chicken onn the hot oil " he's just worried about us there's no meaning about it between me and him " I said as I was facing my back at Vinny

He scoffed " stop acting dumb I know you saw it earlier, even after the race he was already looking out for you " he said with his annoyed tone, I kept in silence not wanting to talk about what happened earlier

" how am I supposed to move on if you kept giving me those hopes Vinny" I muttered, leaning on the counter waiting for the chicken to turned into golden brown " as if you're really trying to move on " Vinny scoffed at your lies " I am! " I looked at him

" but still, its really hard you know, being in a circle with friends with him.." I looked down " I always got to see him " I continued

" then try distracting yourself" Vinny crossed his arms looking down at me " how? " I asked looking up at him meeting his beautiful unpaired eye color, we looked at each other for a moment no one dared to break the eye contact, at that time I felt a tingling sensation on my stomach as if something inside of it was dancing, I should ask my mom about it later...

Vinny walked forward towards me as he put both of his arms on the counter cornering me, he didn't bother to cut the eye contact were having, his gaze were alluring but what shock me the most was the next words that came out of his mouth

" then use me as your distraction instead..."

[cressidagrey]

Hi!

Been absolutely loving the White Horse fic! It's unbelievably well written and the small touches are *chefs kiss* 👌

Have you thought about how long of a series you intend to make it ? I feel like for Isabelle's sake we absolutely need a HEA with Max and children that she actually treats well and loves unconditionally !

Can't wait for the next part 🫶🙌

I have it planned out for 25 chapters. We'll see if I reach it. I do have definite plans until December 2024, so that would be 21 chapters, but I also expect to at least need to split May or June 2024 into two chapters. We'll see.

[zoguy1]

Gift Exchange for @starfyhero2

Suprise! I'm your Trolls Summer Gift Exchanger!!

@trollssummerexchange

This is my first time participating in one of these events. And I'm so glad you were my giftee this time around.

First present is sticker designs for your Rocking Harmony story. Trolls Rocking Harmony - starfyhero - Trolls (DreamWorks Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

After reading the whole thing. I have to say, I absolutely love it! You did an amazing job merging World Tour and Band Together in a believable way and the story was really engaging. I especially loved the way you wrote Floyd. That was fun.

I really liked the concept of each of the brothers being connected to each of the other music genres and I just adore their designs.

Next up, Aroace!John Dory! Every year throught June, I make little designs of all my pride headcannons and ships. Since you asked for and Aroace king, I gave you an aroace king!

Speaking of JD, here's your Johnny and Delta duo.

A pair that I haven't really thought about before. But I really like the way you write the two of them, and how listening to Delta singing was JD's country awakening.

Next is your Music Whisperer story. The Music Whisperer - Chapter 2 - starfyhero - Trolls (DreamWorks Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

I drew this before the fic came out. I absolutely loved Floyd's feral design. It reminded me of a cat, and given that he was Branch's protector, I wanted to see him protecc Branch.

I can't wait to read more of Music Whisperer. You're a good writer and your stories are fun and entertaining.

Next is the Youngest Runaways AU.

I love the angst you have going on with these two and I genuinely can't wait for the fic!

And finally, my favorite scene from the Rocking Harmony story.

I loved the way you wrote Floyd absolutely laying into his brothers. Such a satisfying moment. I put your fic on text to speech and was listening to it as I was laying in bed, but this part had me get up from where I was laying it was so good. 1000/10!

[dragqueenstarscream]

BAAB anon back but omg I just finished reading through some of the other asks people sent in and my heart is full! I love stressed first time mum Ratchet with their little ankle biter human baby, need that bot stressed and restless trying to figure out parenting. BUT ALSO RATCHETS BABY SAYING HE'S NOT THEIR REAL DAD?? UGH....OOF. OH NO!

You know later Ratchet's kiddo walks over to him in that way little kids do when they're guilty: holding their hands together looking away and kind of swaying a little not knowing what to do with themselves, Ratchet tries to remain nocholant and normal as he turns to them and asks what they're doing up so late- and then he sees tears swelling in his kids eyes and he is instantly scooping them up in his servos, many teary I'm sorry's from his baby who hugs him thumb

Another funny Miko related idea but Miko is going to simultaneously be the worst and best babysitter to Ratchet's baby. Ratchet's kid being like a toddler and thinking Miko's dyed hair is cool, so decide to give themselves a haircut to try and look cool like her. Miko swears she turned her back for two seconds when Bulkhead walks into the room to find Ratchet's kid holding a pair of scissors proudly with a chunk of their hair on the floor, and a panicking Miko whose trying to clean up the mess. Ratchet comes back to pick up his kid who is wearing a suspicious hat, and Miko and Bulkhead look very nervous when Ratchet asks if everything went well (ten minutes later, Ratchet's kid takes off the hat and Ratchet proceeds to stomp through the base yelling for Bulkhead and Miko-)

I also feel like Miko would 100% use Ratchet's kid as a way to escape punishment, because she knows Ratchet will go way easier on his kid cuz they're so little. Like say she was messing around and somehow broke one of Ratchet's tools, Ratchet comes in to investigate the noise only to find his kid standing by the broken tool who blinks up at him, and Ratchet is just like: Ratchet: So you're telling me YOU broke the tool?

Ratchet's kid: (nods) Mhm

Ratchet: There was no one else involved??

Ratchets kid: (shakes head) Mn-mn

Ratchet: You're telling the whole truth??

Ratchet's kid: (nods) Mhm!

Ratchet, blank faced: And Miko didn't ask you to do this and lie and take the fault for it so she wouldn't get told off??...

Ratchet's kid:.....Noooo

the amount of bot with a baby asks i've been getting has been so much fun! i love this au so much and i can't wait for y'all to see what i have planned for the next chapter

yeah, the kid saying ratchet isn't her real dad is gonna hurt like hell for the both of them. june has to reassure ratchet that most kids have tantrums like that and they'll come around eventually, but ratchet's still wounded. it's only when she toddles back into his lab, that guilty look on her face, that ratchet realizes that june was probably right. ratchet spends the night comforting the kid, reassuring her that he still loves her. maybe she sleeps next to his berth that night.

oh the scissors! i actually had that happen to me as a kid, trying to give myself pretty bangs, so my mom wound up having to take me to a hairdresser to make it salvageable. i'm imagining ratchet just. sighing deeply and having to use his holoform to bring the kid to a salon to fix what's left of her hair. baby's first pixie cut!

miko would DEFINITELY use the kid as a scapegoat! raf and jack, probably not, but miko would. the thing is, i imagine the kid's not the smoothest liar. you know how sometimes, little kids out themselves when they're lying? i'm imagining the kid trying to cover for miko, but the kid keeps giggling as she's trying to talk. ratchet instantly realizes that she's lying and goes to talk with miko, shaking his head.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

INTERLUDE: this is why we can't have nice things.

— the one where everybody's waiting to see the fall out.

warnings: this is basically like the INTRO chapter with all media, we're going to pretend publications and broadcast timings are not mistaken or fake, okay? ok. am i myself if i don't mention taylor swift in every chapter? no. foul language.

masterlist ✢ next

By Tom Gill // June 23rd

Vic Presley confirms y/n hasn't reached out to her even after Vic called asked her to in a publication a few days ago.

"I think she has blocked my number by now," Presley said, "I am devastated by this. I didn't think it was like her to discard relationships so easily."

Presley and y/ln have been friends since 2020, when they met at the opening of the SENSE Club in downtown Los Angeles and quickly became inseparable.

"y/n really was— is my best friend. I miss her and I want her to come back to me."

Vic Presley also commented on y/n's split from Aidan Kim in her own way: "I hate that she hurt Aidan. I was not aware they had so many problems, that's definitely the kind of stuff you tell your best friend."

y/n was spotted just a week ago with alleged (and constantly denied) boyfriend, Charles Leclerc on a stroll around Central Park. Victoria Presley couldn't help but speak her mind on this.

"y/n has changed so much since she met that guy. I met him in Miami and Monaco, he's not one of the good ones. He's managing to isolate her from everyone who loves her."

Once again, Victoria urges y/n to contact her so they can rekindle their friendship. "I am not angry at her, disappointed maybe. But I will always have my arms open for her."

SEE ALSO:

→ Victoria Presley and Mia Kim collab in new project promoting Presley Beauty.

→ y/n y/ln, a disaster waiting to happen.

→ Aidan Kim is 'almost done' with debut solo album

By Paul Dean // June 28th

Aidan Kim has been in the spotlight since 2012, when he debuted as a member of boyband phenomenon Star-5 with their hit single "End Of The Day". After the band's dissolution in late 2018 due to creative differences between the members and rumored jealousy disputes that included Aidan himself, the Korean-American superstar decided to pursue a career in acting, in aims of expanding his horizons.

'Supercut' in 2019 was the start of a a succesful career followed by '1922' (2021) and 'Conversations with Friends' (2022) plus the series 'Crimes of the Academy' (2022) before Netflix decided to cancel it.

While it is true that 'Supercut' was a box office hit and sent Aidan Kim and co-star—and former partner—into a whole new level of stardom, Aidan Kim might be regretting ever making that movie.

"Supercut holds a special place in my heart," Aidan commented, politely. "It was my first real movie." Of course Aidan doesn't count the "3D Concert Experience" he starred with his other four bandmates as a real movie. "But I carry the consequences of making Supercut with me to this day."

The whole world is aware of such consequences, as y/n y/ln is keen on having the last word when it comes to the breakup from Kim. It wasn't enough to leave him humiliated by turning his marriage proposal down.

"Someone was looking out for me that night, I think," Aidan has tried his best to let go of such bitter memories by turning them into something positive. "At the end of the day, I'm glad y/n said no. I can't imagine spending the rest of my life with her. You're witnessing how unstable she is."

"It's quite shocking honestly," Aidan Kim didn't expect his ex-girlfriend to act like this. "I helped her however I could. Talked to producers, casting agents and journalists to give her a shot. And she says I never did anything for her."

Kim couldn't help but take the chance to refer to his ex's new lover: "But I've moved on. And I hope she does the same soon. If I were Charles Leclerc, I'd be worried my new girlfriend is thinking about her ex-boyfriend so often."

Lastly, Aidan teased his upcoming album, "I've worked very hard on it. I missed making music and I hope you'll like this new sound I'm trying after leaving Star-5's commercial music behind."

"The thing about music, is that it lets you tell your side of the story too. I hope you support a man doing this the same way you root for Taylor Swift, because double-standards are so 'in' right now."

SEE ALSO:

→ Mia Kim, the talented sister of Aidan Kim, set to make big screen debut.

→ Were Mia Kim and Victoria Presley mocking y/n y/ln in new Youtube Video?

→ Mia Kim: "y/n should have kept her mouth shut, there's still shit to be exposed about her."

FROM THE DREW BARRYMORE SHOW — JULY 6TH

[Y/N]: ❝(...) What matters to me right now, is that people now I am nothing of what they're calling me. I am not perfect, nobody is. But I have never cheated on a partner or used someone else as a 'toy' and most importantly, I built my own career.❞

[Y/N]: ❝It gets exhausting, you hear things about yourself you never even thought possible. It could be laughable if it wasn't so cruel❞

[Y/N]: ❝My relationship ended in February, but I believe it was over way before that. I acted in a way that was not fair to my ex-partner nor to myself, and I expressed my regrets about it. He had the right to not accept my apology, but not to make stuff up about the whole situation.❞

[Y/N]: ❝He's feeding his ego, he's a man, after all. But doing it at the expense of my work and my reputation is disgusting. I want one producer or casting agent to come forward and say they gave me a role thanks to my ex-boyfriend's input, just one.❞

[Y/N]: ❝I have surrounded myself with different people. They have been a great support system, always motivating me, and holding me back when I'm about to do something stupid. This also means I have left some people out of what's going on with me, and it's for the best.❞

[Y/N]: ❝Taylor Swift, bless her soul, has given me a lot of advice. She's the sweetest person ever and since the same guy that is trying to drag me has gone after her in a few interviews, she wants this to be over as much as I do. I think he made a mistake by messing with Taylor too.❞

[Y/N]: ❝Rumors will keep running, but I am finally at peace with knowing who I am and who I can trust. But those 'sources' should know my patience is running out.❞

By Jenny Highland // July 20th

Mia Kim and Victoria Presley are the hottest topic right now, but not for the reasons both influencers wish, as they are in trouble!

Both Los Angeles locals have received a 'Cease and Desist' letter from recovering actress y/n y/ln this week, per her team's advice. This was confirmed by both Presley and Kim on Twitter, saying they are 'flabbergasted' that y/n is accusing them of defamation.

While y/n is far from gaining her place back in the public's heart, we are not blind to what Victoria and Mia have done for the past month, riding the wave to get views and followers talking about their shared time with y/n. Who has every right to ask them to stop, as she has done in several interviews throughout the month.

For many people, this makes it more evident that it was either Presley or Kim who contacted tabloids to get their five minutes of fame and sink y/n deeper.

Actions have consequences for everyone, and if y/n decided to pick this fight at this point in her downfall/rerise/wherever it is that we are with her, it's because she knows she can win, right?

─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! please let me know your thoughts! I know I'm ending your patience with this slow burn thing but I promise you we're getting there! Charles is back next chapter and you'll see haha. again, your interactions mean the world to me and i'm sorry if sometimes i don't reply to your comments, i'm just awkward but i love you all♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive@rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbisloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste

want to join the paddock club? click here!

if you are not tagged please check your blog settings because tumblr isn't letting me tag you

[sachirobabe]

Chapter 8

Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

Wc: 3202

Summary: You, a dedicated member of the girls' volleyball team, find an unexpected connection with Kuroo Tetsurou. Igniting a bond over shared passions and stolen moments, love blossoms on the court; all because you met him at a captains meeting.

<— Previous | Masterlist | Next —>

Taglist: @merlucide, @lemurzsquad , @02shuuu, @michakune , @ivy-taylorsversion , @scinclaitnoir , @v-e-r-t21 , @bakugouswaif , @siheez

"You sure you don't want to come with?" You sigh into your phone, currently on a call with Himari.

"Nuh uh, no way." You can imagine she's shaking her head quickly, "I'm not going to ruin your date." She squeals.

"We're doing homework." You say, but a part of you is a little nervous to go. You've hung out with him before, but for some reason you're finding yourself caring about what you wear to meet up with him.

"It's a start. Trust me, I'm so rooting for you both." She says happily. "Text me when you're home so we can debrief." She squeals again and hung up.

You frown at your phone and set it down, looking through your closet to find something to wear. Do you wear something comfortable? Cute? Causal? It was pretty warm, as it was later in may, heading to June and July.

You decide on a casual comfy outfit, seeing no wrong in it. You checked your appearance last minute and take a deep breath before waving to your parents goodbye.

As you walk to the agreed destination, you text him that you're on your way. He sees your message as he's sitting at a table, he's been waiting for you. He was so nervous that he left extra early.

The sun beamed down on you, making you sweat a little and in need of a drink. You enter the library and your eyes meet his, you're smiling. A bit too much as you catch yourself excited to do homework with him.

"Hey." You quietly say, "I hope you weren't waiting too long?"

He shook his head, "Not at all." He lied, there's no way he's telling you that he was an hour early. "I got you a drink..I figured since it's warm out you'd be thirsty—or you like to sip on something as you work." He nervously says.

You think it's cute that you can see a hint of pink on his cheeks, why? You're not so sure about that. You can't possibly be thinking he likes you like that, right?

"Thank you, that's so nice of you." You smile and take the iced drink, sipping on it and enjoy the flavor he bought you.

He nods and sips his own drink, trying to calm himself down. He almost chokes on his drink as he spots a few of his teammates in disguise behind a book shelf. He glares at them, specifically Yaku. He just knows this was his idea.

His eyes look at you quickly and is less tense as you haven't even noticed them. You're looking through your backpack and finding a few worksheets. He makes up an excuse that he's going to try and find a book.

You buy it and he gets up and walks quickly over to his teammates. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?!" He whispers, careful not to make too much noise or draw any unwanted attention.

Yaku, Yamamoto, and Lev all wore some shitty disguise. One that consisted of sunglasses and hats—which was stupid in Kuroo's opinion, who wears sunglasses inside?

"It was his idea." Yamamoto and Lev point accusatory fingers at Yaku.

"Oh fuck you guys." Yaku sighs.

"What're you guys doing?! What if she sees you?" Kuroo panicked.

"Relax. I just had to see you weren't lying." Yaku says and crosses his arms.

"Yaku said I could learn a thing or two by coming." Lev says, throwing the libero under the bus again.

"And why are you here?" Kuroo rolls his eyes at the other twos excuses.

"Someone has to be the responsible one." Yamamoto proudly says, but Kuroo was not buying it. None of them were capable of that right now. "Okay fine. Yaku said he'd buy me food."

"Dude?!" Yaku looks at him, "Well, now you're not getting it."

"I said this was a bad idea, for the record." Yamamoto says, as if that was going to make him look more innocent. "And you're still buying me food."

"Guys, please leave. If she sees you guys—in these shitty disguises, she won't want to hangout with me again." Kuroo whines, grasping at anything to get his teammates to leave.

"Bro, relax." Yaku says, "We won't get noticed."

"And what if I did this to you while you're with the girl you like?" Kuroo flips the situation onto him.

"Yaku can't get girls." Lev says and Yaku kicks him, Yamamoto held his mouth to not laugh loudly.

Kuroo's mind was filled with worry, he'd laugh at that joke later. "Yaku, I can't be embarrassed. I'm already nervous as is." He admits.

Yaku senses his captains worries and sighs, "Okay fine. We'll leave, but I just wanted to make sure you weren't lying. I can't stand the fact that you have a girlfriend before me." He glares.

"Oh god, thank you." Kuroo breathes out a huge breath of relief. "I've already taken too long, hurry up before she sees you." The three nod and Kuroo acts casual as he walks back up to the table.

"You didn't find your book?" You ask quietly and look up from your worksheet.

He looks at you confused, but then realizes that was the lie he told you. "Oh—yeah, no. Couldn't find it." He takes a long sip of his drink, watching his teammates pretend they're in an action movie as they leave the library.

The workers all looked at them like they were crazy. He's glad you didn't look behind you, otherwise he probably would've died from embarrassment.

Kuroo takes out his homework and works on it quietly in front of you. After a little you take a mental break, putting away two out of three papers into folders and into your bag.

"You look focused." You smile, he thinks his entire face is red as he feels you stare at him.

"Coach Mori assigns a lot of homework." He chuckles, "How's it going for you?

"Good, I just need to take a break." You say and stretch, "Otherwise I think my brain will explode."

"Oh, I'm sure you're okay." Kuroo laughs. "Miss smarty pants." He teases.

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Ha ha. Very funny."

"You think I'm lyin'?" He quirks an eyebrow, his homework long forgotten about.

You shake your head and chuckle quietly, wary of others studying nearby. "I know I'm smart, way smarter than you." You tease a little, finding the small banter amusing.

He laughs a little too loud and gets a look from the librarian, he smiles widely at you and the two of you quietly chuckle. "You're going to get us kicked out." He says quietly.

"Me? You're the one who laughs loud." You shake your head.

He wants to tell you that he laughs loud like this when he's with you, nobody else can make him feel this way. But, he's taking baby steps right now, he can barely ask you to hangout without turning bright red.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here?" He speaks up after a few seconds.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "I thought we were supposed to be studious?" Your actions are the opposite of your words as you begin putting away your things.

He grins and throws his things into his bag, he stands up and pushes his chair in, waiting for you to finish up and follow him.

"Where are we going?" You ask, finally not having to keep your voice down.

He thinks for a moment, walking beside you. "Do you like ice cream?"

"Of course." You nod and smile.

"I know a place." He says and leads the way, "Kenma and I have been going here since we were kids."

"Himari and I have a spot like that too." You say, keeping up with his long legs.

"Yeah?" He says interested, "What is it?"

"Bowling." You chuckle, "You know that old place deeper in town?"

He hums, "Yeah, haven't been there since I was little. It's still running?"

"Himari and I practically keep the place going." Your laugh was beautiful to him, he needs to hear more of it. "Last time we went was for her birthday, right before school started."

"So, does that mean you're like a pro?" He smiles, thinking he could potentially beat you.

"I'm not bad, but definitely not the best." You see the competitive glint in his eyes, "We mostly go for the curly fries and milkshakes."

He shakes his head softly, "I found the ice cream place the first time I asked Kenma to play volleyball with me." He smiles at the memory, "I practically forced him, so I offered to buy him a cone if he played with me."

"So you bribed him into playing volleyball?" You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckles.

"I guess so. I would ask him to play a lot, so he and I quickly became regulars at the shop." His eyes leave yours momentarily as he opens the shop door for you.

You thank him, the bell ringing and an older woman looks up from her magazine. "Is that you, Tetsurou?" She pushes up her glasses and smiles warmly at him.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Yuki." Kuroo smiles back at her.

"My oh my, you've grown." She chuckles and closes her magazine.

"Maybe just a little." He chuckles and scratches his neck, "but it's only been 2 weeks."

"2 weeks too long, dear." She says and finally takes notice of you, "And you've even brought your girlfriend, how cute." She claps her hands together.

You think your heart just stopped beating for a second, your mouth opens to deny or say anything, but a part of you kind of liked it.

Kuroo felt his face heat up, he had been telling her about his struggles to talk to you for years. "Oh, we're just—"

"What can I get you two?" She interrupts him, liking the way he blushes at you.

"Don't—uh don't mind her." Kuroo turns to you, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's okay." You chuckle, noticing how his face was more pink than normal. "I've never been here before, what would you recommend?" You ask and walk closer to Mrs. Yuki.

"Well, all of our ice cream is homemade." She smiles warmly, she can see why Kuroo had taken a liking to you. "I'd be happy to let you sample any flavors you'd like."

You smile widely at and thank her. You take a few minutes to read the labels on the tubs, you tried a few flavors. They were all delicious, her ice cream was nothing you've ever tasted before.

"I'll do a scoop of strawberry, please." You say and throw away the little spoon of the sample. She nods and takes her scooper, she gets a heavy ball and puts it in a waffle cone.

You grab it and wait for Kuroo to order, wanting to treat him.

"I'll do my usual scoop of matcha." He tells her, his face is still pink from earlier. She goes to put it in the register, you weren't given a chance to go up because he beat you to it.

"Hey!" You protest, "I said—"

"Too slow." He grins and pays for both of your treats.

"I said next time was on me. Let me pay you back." You go to reach for your wallet and he stops you and shakes his head.

"I invited you here." He smiles, your breath is caught in your throat at his smile, you've always known he was cute, but this was different. He was more than cute.

"Fine, but next time—"

"Eat your ice cream." He says and bumps your elbow on purpose, making your ice cream smudge onto your lips. He laughs, knowing exactly what he did. Mrs. Yuki hands him a napkin and he hands it to you.

"You're so funny, Kuroo Tetsurou." You playfully glare at him and wipe your mouth.

"You kids enjoy." Mrs. Yuki smiles, she can feel her face hurt from watching the two of you. She's happy to see Kuroo so happy.

Kuroo continues to laugh as he leads you outside to the tables. "Eat your ice cream." You do the same thing to him, he licks his lips and smiles.

"How mean." He says and wipes his face as well with his own napkin.

"You did it first!" You laugh and eat your ice cream, watching the green leave his face and onto his napkin.

"It's good, right?" Kuroo asks, seeing your eyes light up at the treat.

"Way too good." You chuckle, "I won't be able to eat store bought ice cream anymore."

"Welcome to my world." He laughs. "She's practically my second mom." He says, looking inside the shop for a moment.

"She's very sweet." You nod, "How long has she worked here for?"

"Her whole life, I think." Kuroo says, "Her father bought the store for her when she was young."

"It's a cute shop. I can't believe I've never came here before." You bit into your waffle cone.

"Yeah, I help her out from time to time." His tongue savors the flavor he got, "She needs help moving her batches sometimes."

"That's nice of you," You smile. "Thank you, by the way. For the ice cream."

He shakes his head, "No problem."

"But for real. Next time is on me." You warn him with a finger pointing at him and he only grins. Already knowing that would never happen, but he goes along with it for now.

You sit for hours there just talking to him, he made you smile a lot. You're trying so hard to keep your mind straight and focused on prelims, but being out with him was just so much fun.

It wouldn't hurt to keep this going, would it? You're still focused during practices and games, that's not changing.

Kuroo looks at his phone for the time and sighs, "It's getting a little late." He notices the sun setting, he looks at your features, appreciating how well the sun hit you right now. He almost wants to sneak a picture, but he doesn't want to seem creepy, he just wishes he could capture this moment forever.

"Yeah, we should start heading back." You say and throw away your napkin.

"I'll walk 'ya." He offered.

"You sure? I swear I thought your house was in the opposite direction." You say.

"Nonsense. I'll just take the long way." He chuckles and you give in, it was hard not to, especially since you didn't want it to end. "Don't want you to get kidnapped." He jokes.

You rolled your eyes, "I'd come back to haunt you."

"Oh, I'm honored." He laughs. "I had a lot of fun with you." He side eyes you for a reaction, you're smiling when he finishes his sentence and that's a win in his book.

"I did too." You say truthfully, you didn't even want to go home. "Who knew? That the nekoma boys volleyball captain was kinda cool?"

"Just kinda cool?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Don't push it." You joke and he laughs along. "I wasn't able to get very close with the other captains, so I'm really happy I got to know you more, Kuroo."

"Tetsurou. You can call me Tetsurou." His face gets hot.

You nod, "Tetsurou." He almost falls to the floor as a pile of putty after hearing his name leave your lips. "Today was fun." You say again, getting his attention, he was still smiling widely.

"We should do this again—if you want to of course, I-I don't want to force you unless you were just being nice—"

"I'd like that." You smile, cutting off his rambling and he lets out a grateful sigh.

"Great. Sounds good." He chuckles, telling himself to calm down.

"Actually..my parents leave tomorrow for a work trip," You gained a little more confidence to ask him to hang out, "And I have this cookie recipe I've been wanting to try, if you'd like to come over and bake with me?"

He feels his heart thump loudly against his chest, he's elated that you're the one who asked him to hang out again. He didn't want to feel like he was being too pushy or persistent. "I'd like that." His face hurts from how hard he's smiled all day with you.

"Great, so again tomorrow? At like noon?" You ask to confirm, looking at your house.

"Yeah, I'll be here." He nods. "Have a good rest of your night, Y/n."

"You too, Tetsurou." You give him a small wave and he thinks you look adorable. Once you're inside your room you're fumbling for your phone to call Himari to come over asap.

"Yeah? Wait—woah, slow down, slow down." Himari laughs on the other end.

"Wait! Don't go yet, he's walking past your house right now." You say as you look out your bedroom window. "Okay okay, come now." You say after he rounds the corner and off to his house.

Himari greets your parents as she walks by, seeing them pack up their car. She runs to your room and barges through the door. "Spill." She smiles ecstatically.

You go on about how you did homework at the library and then got ice cream, basically just giving her the rundown. "And then, I asked him to come over tomorrow after my parents leave to bake cookies." You finish, hiding your face.

"No. Way. You, Y/n L/n, invited a cute boy over." Her jaw drops, before all of this you hadn't been super boy crazy, you had two boyfriends before, but it obviously didn't go on for more than a couple of months.

"I know! I don't know why I did it." You say uncontrollably smiling.

"You like him. You so do." Himari grins, "Don't give me that bullshit about how you don't." She raises her palm to your face.

"I don't." You deny, but you can't stop thinking about him. He gave you butterflies. "We are just friends."

"Wait till Mori hears this now." Himari laughs, "She's going to have a talk with you.”

You groan, "No. She won't. Because this isn't going anywhere."

"Then why are you so excited to tell me about what happened? And why you invited him over?" She catches you in a lie.

You frown and didn't answer her for a minute, "So what? This'll probably fizzle out and go away in a few weeks." 

Himari raises an eyebrow, "Sure." She pretends to go along with it. The rest of the night, you and Himari spent the night together, watching shows and eating popcorn.

Kuroo had the dopiest smile on his face as he got home, he can't even say in words how happy and excited he is. He calls Kenma and yaps for an hour about you.

Kenma doesn't even acknowledge his babbling, he focuses on his pc as he games, but he can't help his curious mind about how you've gotten his best friend smitten for almost three years. It brings a small smile to his face, this means Kuroo will leave him alone so he can game more.

[ddashunknown]

Analyzing The Deltarune Chapter 3+4 Trailer Clips!

Deltarune Tomorrow will be a correct statement on June 4, 2025, meaning that next two chapter will release on June 5th!

In traditional fashion (I haven't posted Deltarune here for a while!), I will provide to you GIFs from the ENTIRE first trailer as individual GIFs, with a brief description of each from yours truly!

1. KNOCK YOUR SOCKS OFF!

The western dapper outfits return! Shoot at your target, 3 hearts at a time, to ERADICATE the enemy's socks & become sockless! Be careful as you have a limited amount of them! What IS limitless is the style points!

2. Insects?

3 strikes and something not ideal will happen! It looks like you'll need to control two insects at the same time to catch all the scribbled blobs. This is the one I've got the least to say about. I call Wacky Chapter 3 hijinks!

3. THE DELTA-ROCK!

A trifecta of musical mastery! Likely a Chapter 3 sequence, we see some more FIRE FITS, with a close-up of Kris & Ralsei jamming along! The stage just can't handle a larger, headbanging Susie. She shall go to TOWN on them regardless! 💥

4. DELTA WALL-CLIMBERS!

New types of sequences call for new animations! This is a high-stakes moment, so I'm quite confident this is a Chapter 4 sequence, likely in the church's dark world! These are the moments I'm the most hyped for. I WANT it and definitely do NOT need it (Lying, but only joking & coping)

5. Tenna's Televised TEETH!

A custom teeth animation that may or may not be exclusive to the trailer! I still wonder who Mike is, but am quite sure that Tenna is the main antagonist of this chapter. We'll see how their personality shapes out to be.

6. A Crusade Chase?!

Pairing the different lighting & decor stylization together points signs to the church once again. A high-stakes (crusade?) chase is upon us, and our heroes better run, BETTER RUN!

7. An Angel or a Titan?

This is what I believe is an endgame teaser, animated by Temmie, the Terrific! Some sort of face-off is happening here, with angel wings(?) parting to reveal the save symbol, which is also the face of the titans! An angel? A titan? THE KNIGHTS?! All of the above? Something else entirely? Your guess is as good as mine!

---

That concludes my first contribution to the upcoming chapters of this game! We've been waiting and now Deltarune is too! From waiting to awaiting, I bid thee farewell! 💖

[bomberqueen17]

how it's going

yah well so. my winter of not being at the farm and instead having medical appointments is going about how you'd think, which is to say that i've run out of steam on making the medical appointments but do still have several to take care of.

i did manage to get my primary care physician to accept that i had an ADHD diagnosis (which last year she refused to help me get, but now that i have it, she's like ok cool great here's a referral for therapy). She's now prescribed me meds, and since I already tried the three major stimulant meds plus had prior (bad) experience with the one antidepressant they use, she prescribed me some weird anti-narcolepsy med that sometimes gets used. and i was supposed to start that two days ago but rite aid is still trying to get insurance approval. take a wild guess what kind of insurance i have!!

yeah united health isn't going to approve that one. so my avenues here might already be closed. but at least someone tried?

I have done a bit of sewing and a bit of exercise biking and a lot of snow shoveling (what a year). I got a mammogram and they called me right away and were like omg you gotta come back there was something weird there, and so i went back and they were like omg we gotta squash you SO flat to look at this, and i was like ow ow ow okay okay uncle and they were like yah we gotta ultrasound you this isn't good and i was like. if they have to cut my boobs off can i get robot ones???? (insert every emoji here in succession, the nine or whatever stages of grief is not enough to cover this)

and the ultrasound tech was like SO nice? and so gentle? and by then i'd been lotionless so long (you can't have lotion on your boobs before a mammogram! my dudes it is january i am a crocodile) that the water-based gel kind of stung? but it was okay and she made me wait and went and looked at the results with a doctor and came and took me aside and was like "Great news! It's nothing" and sent me home. which was like. so many ups and downs! what a wild ride! love this ending for me, this is actually the best possible ending ever.

Spent the entire next day in a vet waiting room because Chita had been peeing all over the basement. Verdict: not a UTI. But, she's got to start special kidney food. Have now spent an entire week trying to get the vet to give us the prescription we need in order to buy the stuff, somehow can't get this done, really don't know what the hell is happening.

So anyway now we just have puppy pads down in various corners of the basement, because Chita has Opinions about litterboxes that cannot be solved by simply having an array (five) of immaculate (Cat Attract(TM) litter-containing) boxes, because you see, she needs to pee NEXT TO a litter box according to some strange schedule, AS WELL AS in only SOME of them, and poo in others... Well at least it's all in the basement and she has not done this in any of the rooms where we actually live. But like. Gross dude.

In June Chita will be legally old enough to vote, though cats are not eligible to register alas, so I suppose we can just let her do what she wants since she probably knows best at this point.

Otherwise the only notable thing happening is the writing, at which i am making tremendous progress, so that's good. Therapist has been attempting to get me to form priorities and make to-do lists which is hilarious and I don't know how to convey to her that I am a feral goblin and Goals are not a thing I've ever historically managed to have, and I don't think she understands about novel-writing in particular (she was like oh you're making getting published a goal! and i'm like you don't understand how this industry works, this is a self-pub at best kind of economy and i will not be making money from this). But I am trying very hard to get a draft of this done as soon as I possibly can because I simply won't have time over the spring/summer/fall season, but I *might* have time to edit.

I've got eight chapters in the beta doc by now and having people read it and leave comments is absolutely working to keep me focused on it. <3 I can't convey enough how much that means. It is incredibly helpful. I never did make a discord or any way to discuss that so it's all gotta be in the comments but that is working for me for now. I have most of the plot hammered out and just have to like. Glue it together. So we shall see.

Except I keep letting myself get distracted doing backstory stuff so yesterday I wrote 2,999 words of literally just porn that is not in any way going to go into this novel, and i felt kind of bad about that but then I also wrote 3,914 words of action plot and cyborg dolphins (and mostly it is a guy passed over for a promotion trying to work around the incompetent they made into his manager, so like, relatable content but also with dolphins who can talk, so like, what's not to love) so I felt less bad about that.

I will include a snippet because I can.

A moment later, Mahina’s synthetic voice said “We did not find your convoy but other pod says ships that way.”  Tom nodded. “Yeah, I thought it might be too far,” he said.  “You know our range?” Mahina asked. Her vocabulary was very practical, but then, this was a major shipping lane. From the slightly greater height of the launch, he could see her better; she was large, an older female. The augmented dolphins lived longer, but she wouldn’t be old enough to remember before the treaties, he thought.  “I think so,” Tom said. “Mahina not so good at human number reckoning,” she said. “But if Ted know a pod’s range Mahina no need to try.” “Ted?” Tom said, startled into a laugh. “Is human name,” Mahina said. “It is,” Tom agreed. “Yes, I can be Ted.” “Ted,” Mahina said, with a decided affirmative whistle. The only way to add words to the brainwave-readers was for a fairly skilled human technician to do so, and one of them must at some point have been named Ted.

[corawithfanfiction]

I Should've Kissed You Longer I Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Episode 2

episode 1 - episode 3

summary: Steve is frozen in ice and unconscious in his hospital room. The only thing Y/N can do is wait for him to wake up from behind the glass.

warnings: loss, denial, uncertainty of death, amnesia, loss of memory, non-contact, obscurity, mourning, unconsciousness. Country agendas. bad language about countries, au wars between countries. The countries and wars mentioned in the story are fictional - they are not indicative of hatred for any nation.

Author Note: I know that a few chapters are short, but the first chapters are a bit short as I need to cut the story in logical places as the chapters will get longer and longer. According to the current plans, our story will be around 27-28 chapters, enjoy your reading.

(3756 words)

MY MASTERLIST! - EVENTS!

This is an original story and may not be copied or translated into another language without permission!

Friday, June 28 In the morning

We ruined everything, didn't we?

We were almost normal, except yo didn't come home once a month or so. Other than that, it was like a desk job, your comings and goings were fixed. I cooked when I came home, you came home and we ate together. Everything was almost perfect. We were laughing, having fun, entertaining guests. We were happy. Then the day came when you didn't come home again. You let me know with a message. And the next day it was the same. And the day after that… So I thought I should take the reins, so I went to Avenegers HQ. Things were a bit complicated, to be honest, but not too serious.

Yet, not too serious.

Cape Horn, what kind of idiot government would send its best agent, its best man, its best hero to stop something ridiculous happening on the other side of the world? That's what the United States of America's League of Idiots would do. Although, didn't they send thousands of troops to Afghanistan and Syria with the same logic? That's why I don't like politics, darling, the news channels drown me. But the reason America sent you there was revealed much later. It wasn't just a forgotten trading port. It was a makeshift headquarters capable of producing a thousand kilowatt nuclear bomb. The haters of America - in this case, the whole world except America - had built a power plant city more powerful than the most advanced power plants. It didn't take a genius to realize their goal: they were going to blow us up. England would set the place on fire because it had lost its native stock, and there would be a global catastrophe, both by radiation disasters and by the star team of England and France wreaking havoc.

Probably you would have stopped it, not because of this long chain of events. It was to prevent people from dying. It's very straightforward and clear.

I realized all of this in the twenty-second time frame after Tony summarized it to me. Then I contacted you without even listening to what Fury was saying.

I missed you. And then it was weird. You were in the middle of a plane full of bombs headed to Boston. You were controlling the plane. It turns out history really does repeat itself. We should have seen it coming again, right? And then here we are. Everything's ruined.

What's done is done, we could have done better, but it's done. Let's go back to the present. I passed out staring at the frosted glass. Tony probably slipped a sleeping pill in my last cup of coffee. I don't even want to bother beating him up. The glass is transparent, but this time they've put up a translucent curtain separating you and me. Probably in case I make a scene if I can't see you. Honestly, I don't care about them, I only care about you.

I have a stomach ache, I don't know why, it's like… I have a strange feeling, but I don't know, it's probably just a stomach ache. No, it's not hunger, Tony already said that.

Natasha came up to me, she laughed and said I looked awful, I should at least take a shower if I wanted to. I don't want to leave you here all alone, Steve. Even if there's someone else with you, how can I be sure you're not alone? What if he gets fucked and leaves? I can't leave you alone. I can't let you out of my sight. I wouldn't feel comfortable.

I told her I'd do it later, although I can see why she suggested it, I must look beyond awful, but like I said, you're my priority. Maybe Fury wants me out of here specifically. In any case, maybe to keep me strong, maybe because he's fed up and they can't intervene easily enough, but the only thing I know that can or is capable of keeping me strong is you. You, nothing else. You see, the only thing I can do now is to wait behind this glass and beat my knees thinking about our wasted time.

We should have made the most of it, darling.

I should have kissed you longer.

Y/N

my materialist

episode 1 - episode 3

TAG LIST:

@nekoannie-chan@delilah-heythere-blog@delilah-hey@calimoi@nanamiswh0r3@shamrockqueen@afrapic@bstrgar@schrutepark13@shadyloveobject@tfandtws@katmock@veryempathatic@temmxi@bobgirllll@just-a-hungry-reader@svechniswift@biancsthings@thesorcererstale@dxbrevgrey@smallmarvel@chrisevansbuddy @caplanreblogsfics