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#and this is where my mind went when the depression hit
strawberry-cowmilk · 7 months
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the brothers when they realise mc will die one day
-> brothers x mc
a/n: it's been a good minute since I wrote actual ultimate painful angst so here you go while I wait for my hot makeup sponge soap soup to help me clean the things
mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read
content warnings: angst, death, crying, sports injury
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Lucifer
he was peacefully listening to a new record he got with you next to him
lucifer was a great fan of this certain composer so he started to talk a little about the music and the meaning behind it
'the composer wrote this piece for their deceased partner-' he suddenly went quiet once he realised he will be like the composer one day
you had already fallen asleep to hear what he said, lucifer carefully pressed you close, afraid of waking you up and afraid of the day you'll leave him
Mammon
mammon was very bored since lucifer took away his card as a punishment, so he decided to watch tv
he was just browsing the channels and ended up watching the news
mammon was already upset about not having his card, and all the depressing stuff on the news made him more sad, and one certain report hit him with the reality that humans die way before demons
tears stung at his eyes as he instantly called you, asking where you are and if you're willing to cuddle him
Leviathan
he got a new game off of akuzon and you're playing it together
it just happens that you're absolutely terrible at this game so you keep dying every two minutes
it was funny at first, you and levi were laughing about it until he suddenly went quiet and started crying
before you could ask him what happened he hugged you and started begging you to not die for real
it took some while for him to calm down a little, you're his (only) friend, how will he live without you?
Satan
he was working on a group rad project with solomon, eventually he started talking about how he accidentally made himself immortal
eventually satan demanded to know how he did it, and he was pretty angrily asking too, during the conversation he realised you are not immortal (unlike solomon)
the prof literally had to separate them because satan was getting too angry
satan wasted no time, he went to look for you so he can spend time with you and forget his awful thoughts
Asmodeus
there was some fashion week event in the devildom and some high fashion brand asked asmo to model for them (he accepted)
but on the day of the event, it got cancelled
asmo was not pleased with this, but you told him it's ok and you can watch him on the catwalk next time he gets invited, but the thing is that probably won't be until another 500 years-
he realised there's a very good chance you won't be alive for the next time, he cried and clung to you, denying reality
Beelzebub
beel was playing the finals of his fangol game and things were getting very serious, there were players getting tackled left and right pretty badly
his mind started to drift away from the game for a while, and remembered that time you asked him to play with you
but if you, a human, were on this field, you'd probably get badly injured, or worse
the coach had to get a time out because the team's got beel literally crying his eyes out on the bench
the team won, but beel is not in the mood for celebrating
Belphegor
it just randomly hit him
he was looking at the stars next to you in the planetarium and something about the stars today made him think about everything, and eventually the fact that humans don't live long compared to demons
he turned to you, said something along the lines of 'don't go' and curled up against you, falling asleep
belphie needed to give himself a good dream right now otherwise he feels like he won't be able to handle it now
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rrxnjun · 9 months
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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]
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you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.
pairing: mark lee x fem! reader
genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.
wc: 12k (11.926)
warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic
playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz
a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)
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When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 
There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.
Step one – cry it out.
“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.
“Why’d you say that?”
“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”
“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.
“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.
“Yeah, but–”
“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 
He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.
First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 
Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 
And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.
And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.
“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.
“You know I hate cookies and cream!”
“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.
And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.
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Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.
Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.
“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.
“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”
“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.
“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”
And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.
It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.
“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.
Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 
“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.
“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.
“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”
“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.
Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 
Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.
“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.
Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.
And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 
And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 
Couldn’t he forget about that too?
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Step three – block his number.
The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.
Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 
Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.
So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.
“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.
Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”
“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 
“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.
“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.
“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.
“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”
“Mark–” 
“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”
The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.
“Mark?”
“Hm?”
“You still there?”
“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.
“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 
“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?
“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.
“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”
You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.
“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.
“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”
It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.
“What was it?”
“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.
“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”
The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.
“Good night, Mark.”
“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.
He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.
And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.
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Step four – date someone new.
“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.
“So…?” 
A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.
“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”
“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.
“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”
“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.
“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”
“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.
“I said he asked about you.”
“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”
Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.
“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”
“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”
“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”
Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.
Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”
Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.
“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”
“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”
“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”
“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.
“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”
“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.
“No, that’s not it–”
“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.
“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.
“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”
“I have you,” you try.
“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”
You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.
Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 
Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”
“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“
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And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 
And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 
The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.
“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 
Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.
Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 
“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 
“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 
“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.
And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.
You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 
Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 
It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 
Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?
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After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.
Step five – avoid him at all costs.
Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?
Wrong.
Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?
And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 
When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 
“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.
You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.
“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.
Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”
Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.
“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.
“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”
Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.
Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.
It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 
You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 
You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.
You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 
“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”
Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”
“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”
The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.
At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 
“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”
“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”
The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.
“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.
“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”
Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”
“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.
“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 
Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”
“Here, of all places?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”
Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 
“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”
“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 
“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 
He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”
“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.
“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.
And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 
“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.
“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”
“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.
A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”
His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.
And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 
“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.
Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 
“I love you,” he says.
And isn’t that all that’s needed? 
A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?
“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”
“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”
“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 
“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.
Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.
“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”
And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 
Where do broken hearts go?
Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.
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“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 
“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”
“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 
“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”
You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 
You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.
“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 
“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.
Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.
“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 
That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 
And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.
He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 
“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.
“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.
“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.
Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.
“Mark?” 
“Hm?” 
“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”
“Even us?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.
“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.
“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”
Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”
Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.
You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.
Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.
You guess your heart never really left the hill.
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Moll
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❥ Choi San x fem reader
SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL
➯a/n: i've been watching waaaaay too much 1920s drama sooooooo (i went way overboard, i feel liek i wrote a movie)
✃ moll; a mobsters girl, circa 1920s
✫彡wordcount: 6.2k
(✯◡✯)(>ᴗ•)genre: 1920s mafia au, plot heavy smut
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of drugs, violence, threatening with a gun(safety was on lol), kidnapping, forced marriage, forced affection, stockholm syndrome, pregnancy, murder(not descriptive at all), NSFW; virginity loss, unprotected (NO DO THAT🫵🏻), possessiveness to the max, breeding kink
not proof read
✩ index: dope; drugs, specifically cocaine or heroin. bent; drunk. bump you off; murder. bearcat; a feisty woman. vamp; an aggressive flirt. flat-tire; a bore. punch the bag; talk. dame, doll, bunny, water-proof; a (attractive) woman. holding a torch; having a crush. get in a lather/ get lathered up; get worked up or angry. skin; condom. get a wiggle on; leave quickly.
⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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"Where's the money?"
    "That's all of it! Please, Mister-"
  The echoing slap across the room makes you cringe from your hiding place in the pantry. It's nothing new. Your family had been mixed up in all kinds of shenanigans and you had witnessed a great deal of them. But it always hurts when they come back to haunt you.
      You cup your hand over your mouth to muffle your scared breath, trying desperately put your mind in a better place. Anywhere but here.
   "I gave you more than enough time. Don't you think?"
   "Nobodies buying, please Mr. Choi! You have to understand, I tried. I went from corner to corner to corner," your older brother pleads.
    He isn't lying either. The drugs that the mafia had provided him to sell- well, they weren't selling. No body had the money. If they did, they only bought the smallest amount and resold it at a higher price.
    It wasn't his fault the country was in a depression.
     "It- I still have the dope stored away! Just in the back shed, you can have it back! May-maybe someone up North can have better lu-ah!"
     A dull thud.
     And another.
    And another.
     A crash. Your brothers body hitting the floor no doubt.
     "You gon' tell me how to peddle my own product now? I don't think so! Are you bent? Huh?" His voice gets louder with each insult hurled at your brother. "You skim a little of the top, is that it? I oughta bump you off!"
     You can't help the small gasp that exits your shaking lips, and you immediately recognize your mistake as it goes silent in the home. Only your brothers ragged breathing and the thrumming of your anxious heart reaching your ears.
    "Mr. Ch-"
   "Shut your kisser! Who's here with us?"
   "N-Nobody! No! No, no, wait-"
    Light floods the small room you've sought safety in, and that false sense of security shatters the second you see the man attached to the threatening voice.
      He's a cop.
    He's got a badge and a gun and authority. He's supposed to be someone safe. Instead, he's got knuckles blooded with your kin and a smirk on his stubbled face.
     His wide shoulders block the light, casting his silhouette over you like a storm cloud.
     You've cowered into the corner, skirt pulled over your trembling knees as you scoot further away. Wide eyes looking up at him, silently pleading.
     "Why you hidin', vamp?"
      "Please, Mr.Choi, she don't know from nothing!"
     You glance past the man -Mr.Choi- 's neat slacks, and see your brothers face messed with blood, dripping onto the floor from his nose. He's pulling himself up slowly, kneeling on the hardwood.
    "Get up," Mr.Choi nods his head at you, and you immediately follow his order, afraid to test his nerves further. "Help this goof up." You lower your head, slowly approaching the man who stays in the doorway. "Now, we ain't got all day!"
    You rush past him and kneel, wrapping your arms under his and pulling him up with a grimace, "c'mon, Bub, get up."
     The man watches you heave him up, leaning against the wall with his hand on his hip holster in case you decide to get brave. "Bub's done got you mixed up in something real risky, girl. What do you know?"
    "Don't know nothin', Mister. Mind my own." You feign some semblance of calm. You lower your brother onto a chair, and he nearly falls onto the dinner table before you catch his head. "You had to knock him on the head?"
     He chuckles, slowly stalking around the room, "don't get mouthy, Bearcat." He takes a seat at the head of the table, pointing to the chair opposite of him. "Sit."
     You lower his dizzy head to rest on the table before taking the seat he pointed to, folding your hands in your lap and lowering your head. "I never touched your dope, I don't mess with that."
    He slowly places his gun on the table, fingers lingering over it. He studies you- eyes never leaving. "How much of the beans has he spilled to you?"
     "I don't know what you mean-"
     "Oh, sure."
    You look up, and you regret floods your veins. He's sizing you up. Face completely void of emotion. Shoulders slack and relaxed like he isn't ready to shoot you at a moments notice. "Punch the bag, now. Before I shoot off your Bubs knee cap." He cocks his gun.
     "Okay! Okay, listen-" you gulp, looking back down, "all he's ever told me is that he gets some products and sells them, gives you the money and you give him a cut. That's it! That's all I know, really. Don't know where you get it or nothin'. I can keep my trap shut."
     "You don't go to the corners with him?"
      "Nev-"
     "If I show your face at the station, nobody gonna recognize you?"
    "No," you look up again, "everyone knows I'm a good girl, Officer."
     He lets out an amused chuckle, rubbing his brow. "You tugging my leg?"
     "No. I'm not a drug peddler. I'm a secretary. I volunteer at the soup kitchen. I babysit-"
     Your anxious babbling to get yourself out of your brothers trouble is interrupted when Mr.Choi, suddenly behind you, grips the back of your neck and pushes your head to the table. Your eyes meet your brothers drowsy ones, tears quickly filling up in both. "Please, she's tellin' the truth! I ain't even tell her I was selling till you called last minute! She's innocent!"
      "I don't like liars!" He shouts, making you jump under his harsh grip, "I asked you if we were alone the moment I walked in this dump! You're a little sneak, aye? How do I know you didn't hide her to gather intel on me? Get me fired and kicked out? Get yourself a little raise? How do I know she's even your sister? She could be a snake! Tell me the truth, now!"
     The cool metal of his gun touches your temple, and the sobs you've been holding back fall out of your lips loudly. "Bub, tell him!"
     "Tell me, Bub!" He mocks you, pressing the barrel deeper into the back of your head.
     "That's the truth! I sell your dope by myself and she doesn't know nothing about it! Please, she's all I have!" He's growing more and more frantic, head heavy as he lifts it to look Mr.Choi in the eyes, "I'll find a way! I'll go up North myself, I-I'll take a dimebox to Iafeild o-or," he himself is crying now, watching helplessly as he tugs you out of your chair. "Please, she's all I have!"
      He pushes you to the floor and watches you scramble, kicking your knees out from under you, albeit gently, it makes you fall face first. He lowers himself in a squat, watching you with a certain amusement you curl up on yourself. "Well why didn't you just say so!" He clips his gun back on his hip and smirks as you both let out a sigh of relief.
Mr.Choi doesn't leave just yet, however.
He straddles your back and flips you over, gripping your chin as it trembles. Pulls your face close to his and inspects you. Your tears wet his fingers. "Hmm, can't blame me for being suspicious. She's water-proof and you," he looks over at the table and chuckles, "well you're just a dog."
He stands and extends his hand for you, rolling his eyes as you ignore it. "Get up, Doll." He groans, pulling you to your feet, "go pack a bag."
"W-"
"She's not goin' with you," your brothers brief bravery is shut down the second the copper reaches for his gun again, "I- I mean why?"
"You," Mr.Choi points to him, "are gonna go to Iafeild and sell all of the shit I gave you like you should have done two months ago. And she," he wraps his arm around your shoulders with a cocky grin, "is gonna be your encouragement to get me my money. If you aren't back with all of it in... three weeks, say? Little sis' here is gonna take the big sleep." He ignores you as you cry harder, simply glaring at your brother. "Capiche?"
He nods frantically, looking away as you look to him with pleading eyes. There's nothing he can do. This is bigger than him. He's got messed up with the wrong crowds and now you have to pay the price as well.
     "Put a pep in your step, clock starts tonight."
He opens the car door, watching silently as you peek your head out before your body follows.
You clutch your bag close to your chest, still sniffling and sobbing quietly. Your kitten heels click on the cement, messed curls blowing with the October winds.
"Follow me," he guides you by the small of your back, shockingly gentle with your shaking form. "Don't pull any tricks, Doll." He leads you up the stairs of the secluded farm house, opening up the screen door and ushering you in.
      "San, Finally!" A voice booms from inside the home, making you squeak. When you turn to go back out the door, you collide with Mr.Choi, who you gather must be San, 's chest. "Was starting to think- oh! Who's the dame?"
    "This," he turns you by your shoulders and tilts your head up to face the man who's descending the stairs, "is Mr. (L/n)'s sister. She's staying for a bit while her brother sorts out some business upstate." You can almost feel his smirk in the way he speaks.
      The other man, who's finally come face to face with you, seems a great deal less threatening than San.
"Tsk," he rolls his eyes at San, "sure thing, fella. You just went and found yourself a Moll."
"A Moll? Sure, she's cute but she seems a bit flat-tire, no? Not exactly the type of woman I go for."
"She's exactly the type you go for, you're trying to get her in the bag! Lost bunny is your type."
"Oh, take a hike, Hwa!"
You go back and forth looking at them in confusion as they bicker, hugging your bag to your chest tightly. You don't know what a 'Moll' is but you do know you don't want to be Mr. Chois. You simply tune them out and stare at the floor blanky, tears still flowing.
        "If you're not holding a torch, why didn't you kill him like we planned?"
    "Well-" His words die on his tongue as he looks over at you. You do look like a lost bunny. Making yourself small between them and letting your tears flow as a defense mechanism. He won't admit it, especially aloud. But you are exactly the woman he's been looking for. "Oh, hell," he pulls a blue handkerchief from his pocket and shoves it into your hand, "stop crying so much. Not gonna hurt you."
      Very hard to believe after his threats, but you try your hardest to stop the onslaught of warm tears. You wipe your face with the fabric and sniffle quietly, coming back to your own body as Seonghwa extends his hand slowly.
      "I'm Seonghwa, 'can call me Hwa if you like. I'll be lookin' after you when San here is busy. Let's get along well."
     You shake his hand gently and croak out a simple, "(Y/n)."
The rest of the day passed quickly, locked up in a bedroom while San and Hwa could still be heard downstairs, which only served to add to your anxieties. It felt as if at any second they would change their mind and come up to bump you off.
You busied yourself doing what San told you to before he locked the door behind him. 'Unpack and get cozy.' Though that latter wasn't as easy as hanging your few dresses in the oak closet and putting your hairbrush in the nightstand, awkwardly placing your products in the corner of the attached bathroom. Especially after you pieced things together.
There was an array of suits and slacks hanging in the closet. Shiny loafers on the floor. A clip of bullets in the nightstand. A roll of condoms. A stash of cash in a duffle bag on the hook behind the door. A pack of cigarettes and matches on the window sill. A bottle of cologne that smelled suspiciously like Mr. Chois car.
This was Sans room they had locked you in.
You had long took a seat on the windowsill and dangled your legs out of it, debating how badly it would hurt if you decided to fall and try to make a run for it. You came to the conclusion that it was useless. It took fourty minutes to get here from the city. The last home you passed being 20 of those away.
The lock on the door clinked loudly, and it opened slowly. You turned and looked over your shoulder, and it wasn't a surprise that San was the one you faced.
"Hungry, Doll?" He shuts the door with his foot as he carefully enters with a plate in hand. He doesn't seem alarmed by your hazardous seating choice, probably because he doesn't take you for a fool that will break their ankles trying to jump from the third story.
"No," you mutter, turning back around and facing the setting sun without another word or pleasantry his way.
"Don't let it get cold, I reheated it just for you."
"Too bad. Not hungry."
He comes behind you and rests his palms on either side of your hips, chest pressing to your back as he looks out at natures expanse. "Pretty, ain't it?"
When he doesn't get anything resembling a response, he tries again. "It's my own property. Worked in that barn everyday until I became a cop."
He's met with silence. "Plan to share it with my wife one day."
Nothing. "I know you think I'm a monster but I am just a man."
"A man who had a gun to my head..."
"A man who's just trying to survive a war and a pandemic. You'll get that one day. I don't mean no harm until harm comes for me."
A silence washes over you both for a moment.
"Will you shoot me if my brother doesn't sell all your dope?"
"No."
And again. His soft breath, your anxious ones.
"Then why am I here?"
It's his turn to be silent. He backs away from you and sits on the bed, watching you as you sit still like a statue. You watch the sun disappear like a motion picture of art. A certain peace overcoming you for the briefest moment.
"Because you will be that wife that I share with."
And peace shattered by Choi San once again.
You head snaps in his direction, falling back into the house from the windowsill with a thud. You both stare at one another. San stares with an unreadable expression. Yours of pure horror and confusion. "What?!"
"I'll drop business with your brother for good. Clear all his debt with the boys. Give him all of the cash he gets from this last... adventure. He'll be well off and so will you. I'll make a good, honest woman of you."
"Y-" Yours brain is officially thrown into a panic, an overdrive of emotions, and it all tumbles out before you can stop it. "You have to be off your rocker! You're insane! I already am a good, honest woman! Go chase yourself, I'm not marrying you- you- what? No! No!"
"You 'aven't got much choice in the matter, Doll. Don't get yourself in a lather."
"Don't get- oh, I am lathered up, Mr.Choi! I oughta smack some sense into you, demanding a girls hand in marriage like it's still 1890! It's nineteen-twen-"
He smacks the sense into you before you can to him.
"Oh God," you sob, holding your stinging cheek as tears build up in your waterline. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," you lower your head. Thinking, surely, you just dug your own grave. "Please-"
"This is exactly why I chose you," he crouches in-front of your crumpled form and tilts your head up, "a dame who appears like a lost bunny but has the soul of a beast."
You simply stare up at him, deathly afraid to move or speak in fear of letting your anger and sadness slip again.
"Got somethin' to say?"
You gulp before nodding your head in his hold.
"Go on."
"I don't w-want to marry a mobster... I don't want to be involved with dirty money! A corrupt copper..."
He chuckles softly, rubbing his thumb over your untainted cheek. "You should be thanking me, Doll... That dirty money? Been putting a roof over your head for three years. Corrupt copper? Well, he even had the decency to have the safety on his gun while pointing it at your pretty head. Mobster? Willing to put a ring on your finger and give you a nice home."
The tears start free falling as your situation fully sinks in. There really is no way out. You'll end up in the ground if you don't let him put a ring on it.
"So, I'll say it again," he grips the back of your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, "you should be thankin' me."
"T-thank you."
"Attagirl," he lets go of you completely, letting you fall back to the floor, "now eat."
He let you be that night, and you didn't see him the next morning either. It was Seonghwa who came to the door, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or not.
"Hey, Miss," He spoke softly, staying just outside of the doorway. "I heard what happened... I'm sorry."
He seemed genuine enough. You sat down your hairbrush and turned on the small stool. Your eyes puffy and red from the lifetimes worth of crying you did last night.
"Uhm, so San wants us to go to town and pick out some fabrics for your weddin' gown. If you aren't up for it, I can pick them out myself."
"Will he be going with us?"
"No, just you and I."
You were sick and tired of smelling San every time you tried to take a deep breath, and that's how you ended up here.
It's less overwhelming than being in that farmhouse that seems to be your prison for now and for forever to come. But overwhelming nonetheless.
Hwa is talkative. But you don't mind. He treats you well. Like an equal. He doesn't talk down to you like many men do. And that, you very much appreciate.
He tells you of how he feels it's unfair you have no saying in your future, his heart is heavy with sadness that he cannot help you. And he tells that to your face. He will not help you. He is loyal to San. But that doesn't mean you can't be friends.
You seem to share life stories with one another the entire car ride there. And then he already feels like an old friend as he holds up fabrics to your skin to see which compliments you best. You, admittedly, aren't as into it as he is. As much as a bride should be. But then, how could you when you were picking things out for the day that would solidify your future with a mobster?
You both settle on one that, you will admit, made your heart flutter when you imagined yourself in. And then you're on your way, but Seonghwa stops the vehicle halfway through town.
"What are we doing?" You look out of the window and your heart stops in your chest as you see that he's parked infront of the police station. "No, Hwa! You promised I wouldn't have to see him."
"I'm sorry, Miss (Y/n)... he said he wanted to see what you picked afterwards. It will be quick."
You take a few deep breaths without San's cologne smothering you, then you swing the door open and follow after Hwa.
Sans broad shoulders aren't hard to pinpoint in the semi-packed station. "Ah, my beautiful fiancée!" He perks up immediately as he spots you and his friend.
What he does next absolutely floors you.
He cups both of your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. Right out in the open. Hot lips on yours.
You grip his wrists, face flushed with heat as he pulls away, bending down slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "Did you pick a pretty fabric for our special day?"
The look in his eyes seems almost innocent from far away. He's already got everyone in the room convinced that you're a willing participant of this relationship. But you, up close and personal, can see the glint of silent threats in his eyes- telling you to keep up the act or face the consequences.
"Uhm, uh-huh," you move slight to the side and look to Hwa, who's head is down slightly for a spilt second before he smiles at you and San and holds out the roll of fabric.
"Oh, Doll, what a good choice! No doubt you will look jaw-dropping," he runs his fingers over the fabric, imaging the pure beauty that you will be. "You'll make it extra good, right, Hwa? Only the best for my girl."
" 'Course, San. We're gonna work on some sketches when we get home." His smile is genuine, like he looks forward to it.
"Officer Choi! Hate to interrupt but we got a hold-em-up at the bank," another officer passes in a hurry, stopping briefly to congratulate you both.
"Ah," he clicks his tongue, rubbing his hands on your side gently, "wish me luck?"
"Good luck..." He looks like he's waiting for more. You gulp and force a smile, almost gagging on the words you conjure up, "good luck, Baby."
    The days after that first one passed almost like groundhog day. You awoke with San nearly laid ontop of you. Bathed and made breakfast. Worked with Hwa on your gown until it was completed. Walked around the farm and conversed with the farm-hand. Cooked and had a semi-awkward dinner with the three of them. Talked and became closer with San, slowly becoming happier with your situation.
   And then all too suddenly...
It's two days short of three weeks since you've been 'brought home', as San likes to say. Which means one very big thing.
      You are to be married. 
   It's a small affair, but beautiful nonetheless.
    You can quickly tell that only one side of San's life is invited. There is not a badge to be seen as you peer out of the window, only gangster after gangster taking their seat.
    Hwa finishes buttoning up your gown and steps back, smiling at you like a proud family member. "Ready, Miss?"
     "Ready as I'll ever be."
      Hwa walks you down the aisle.
     And then it's a blur.
    How did your get back in your bedroom? Was the ceremony already over?
It seems to have happened in a flash.
You stand infront of the window again. All of the guests have either left or have taken up in one of the many guest rooms in the home. San no doubt offered them up so that he could have witness to what was about to happen.
Your wedding night. Oh, how special and magical a day.
San slides his hands up your back, landing on your tall collar and skillfully unbuttoning it. Slowly, almost teasingly. His words send a shiver down your spine, they set your hairs on edge: "you are so beautiful, my Dear... it took everything in me not to take you right there in the aisle. I've never wanted anyone, or anything, as badly as I want you."
     Your breath hitches in your throat as his soft lips come in contact with your now exposed neck. It not the first time he's left adoring kisses on your body. But somehow it feels different as husband and wife. "San..."
    "Yes, Doll?"
    "I... I'm a virgin."
   "I know, Doll. Tell me to stop and I shall, but... I want to make you feel good like only a husband can. I want to show you my love in physical form." His hands slide into the now open back of your dress, around to your breasts. "Only I can touch you. Only you can touch me. Do you understand that?"
    A breathless 'yes' trembles out of your lips as he cups your bosom. The little moan that follows has his hard member throbbing, so ready to finally claim you. He presses it to the round of your ass, and you have to hold back a gasp, simply letting your mouth gape as you look out at the dark night sky. But when his calloused finger tips roll over your hardened nipples, you can't bite back the curse of pleasure that bubbles in your throat.
"Oh, you poor bunny," he whispers in your ear, "you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." The warmth of him slowly dissipates, and the tell-tale sound of the stool in the room dragging on the floor makes you turn around. "Drop your gown, let me see my wife in her full glory."
Heat burns on your cheeks, of embarrassment or arousal you can't quite tell at the moment. He's shed his fanciest uniform jacket and is now working on his button up, his cock straining against his slacks.
"You ever seen a man's prick?" He smirks as he catches you staring. Your eyes don't leave his lap as you take off your white kitten heels. That is, until he calls you out.
"No," your eyes drop to the ground as you neatly arrange your shoes, "never..."
"Mine will be the first? Mm, first and only," he half hazardly tosses his shirt, leaving his chest bare. Scars and toned muscle on full display for you. "Catch up, Dollface."
You step out of your gown carefully, holding it to your chest to hide yourself. "What if I'm not... pretty enough?"
"Oh, my wife can't possibly disappoint. I've seen that silhouette while you shower." He tilts his head and smiles, a soft smile. "You'll be my first as well."
     You swear your eyes have bugged out of your head the way he chuckles at your expression. "Really?"
     He stands, gently unraveling your fingers tight grip on the white fabrics. "Really, and I don't want to wait any longer. I want it to be with you. It will be with you." You let him take the fabric, and he drapes it on the stool carefully without ever taking his eyes off of you.
    "W-what about the skins in our drawer?"
   "So I don't make a mess while I fuck myself thinking about all of the dirty things I want to do with my wife."
    "Oh-" You swear you're running a fever. You've never felt this way before- but then, you imagine you'll be feeling many firsts tonight.
     "Would you like to hear about them?" He grins, his signature shit-eating-grin, as he guides your hands to his belt. You fiddle with it with a small nod, slowly pulling it off of him as he speaks. "I've got you laid down on our bed, legs spread..." You unbutton his slacks. "Touching, exploring what's mine." His zipper is undone next. "I take my time, make you nice and wet." His bottoms are gone. "I hold your hands." His boxers go after them. "And then I fuck you on my cock." 
    And he did exactly that. That's how you got here.
     Hours of teasing later, his member is finally buried inside of you, stretching you like your fingers never could. He interlocks his fingers with yours as his hips withdrawn. Squeezes your hands tightly as he slowly sinks back in.
      "Oh God," you whisper, heels digging into the mattress as you arch beneath his built frame, "ah, Sannie."
    His hips stutter, mind overheating as the nickname reaches him. You feel... oh, you feel amazing. Like heaven on Earth. Your gummy, warm walls suck him in, so wet and inviting. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. "Fuck, Bunny, you feel fucking godly."
      Only a moan is his response, your head tossed to the side in embarrassment. "D-don't stop," you pant, squeezing his hands tighter as you gather the courage to- "please go faster." Oh, nevermind. Your mind has left and only your pussy's logic remains. And it's logic is- "Sannie, faster!"
   His thick, veiny shaft feels otherworldly as it drags against you. You need more. And he is happy to oblige. He quickens his pace, keeping his strokes languid and tender so as not to hurt you. But by God, he goes faster.
     "Ah! Ah, my God!" You cry into the night, uncaring as your pleasure echoes in the houses thin walls.
     Your noises, your facial expressions, your divine warmth around him. San feels that familiar coil tighten quickly, winding up. "Fuck, (Y/n), I'm gonna bust," he bites his lip, a loud moan vibrating his chest.
"C-close, I'm close, Sannie," you squeeze his fingers in yours, looking up beggingly, "please don't stop, ah- ah! Just like that! Nngh!" Your eyes roll back into your head, cunt clenching down on him like a vice, a gush of heat tells him you've just came around him, so he no longer holds back.
He hooks one of his legs around yours and pushes himself deeper than before, making you yell out in overstimulated ecstasy. And that primal yelp as he buries himself as deep as possible sends him over the edge, coil in his gut not only snapping- but burning to ash as he fills your womb with his release. "Fuck, fuck," he whines, rutting into you unable to move as your core clenches more than ever, refusing to let him go. "Mine," he growls out, leaning down and colliding his lips with yours passionately.
  
     Your body goes limp beneath him, your soft breaths fanning against his sweaty face as he pulls away from the kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly and your jelly like arms wrap around his broad shoulders. "Mine, all fuckin' mine," he lowers his weight onto you slowly, and it makes his hard cock feel heavier than before. He ignores your whiny moans, resting his head on your chest. "My wife, filled with my seed. Mine, mine, mine," with each of his possessive proclamations comes a thrust of his hips. "Say it, say you're mine."
      "I'm yours," you whimper under his weight, blissed out beyond belief and in shock that -despite having filled you less than five minutes ago- he is already rock hard again and thrusting into you, slowly building his speed back up.
     "Louder," he demands, head pressed firmly to your chest and listening intently to your drumming heart beat.
    "I'm yours," you speak more confidently.
    "Louder," his pace has passed where you reached before, he's nearly drilling you with his cock.
    "Ah! Fuck!" You screech, nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his wildly thrusting hips instinctively.
    "Say it," his voice rumbles on your chest, sending vibrations through you as his thrust shake the bed, "fucking say it, tell everyone who you belong to."
     "I'm yours, San! Oh! San! Sannie! Baby!" Your brain has shut down, you're putty in his arms, babbling loudly. "Cumming!" You can't help but announce it to the farm, your pleasure has set you ablaze and everything is pointless besides San.
    He follows shortly after, his second release flooding your stretched walls and pushing his first out, making a mess of your sheets and pelvises.
     When he doesn't show any sign of slowing, you slap his shoulders repeatedly and let out a loud whine. He stills deep inside of you and pants into your chest, cock still throbbing inside of you.
    He's become insatiable.
     "Break, please," you slur, hands finding purchase in his disheveled hair. He melts into the drunken affection, eyes peering up at you with love and adoration... obsession in the comfort of your own home.
     He slowly pulls out of you, watching in awe as the pearly white of his love seeps out of you. He rubs your thighs in a soothing manner, taking a moment to catch his own breath.
     "D...do you feel good?" He looks up, almost like a lost puppy. You've never seen him so vulnerable.
      "God, yes," you smile at him dopily, propping yourself up on your elbows with a groan. He sits back, immediately locking his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. His scent blankets you, and you welcome it. Taking a deep breath.
     His member is messy with a mix of your juices, resting against your lower belly like it knows that's where it belongs. Showing you both how deep he reaches.
     The sight alone lights the fire in you again, now just as insatiable as he is.
     "I love you." The words that slip past your swollen lips shock the both of you, eyes meeting in an instant.
     The crickets outside chirp their song, stars and moon casting light through the window. A shooting star flies by.
    "I love you."
    There's a knock at the door. Strange. Anyone who needs in can get in. You trot down the stairs and stop halfway as your eyes meet your brothers through the screen door. "Bub?" You nearly trip over your feet as you jump down the rest of the steps, slinging the door open and wrapping your arms around him tightly. It been long past those three weeks San have him. Almost a year past.
     "Bub! Bubby!" He spins you around in his arms, nearly falling off of the porch.
     "Oh, thank God! You're alive!" Both of you have wide smiles, blissfully unaware as San turns the corner in his farming overalls. "Let's get a wiggle on, before Mr.Choi knows I'm here." San stops in his tracks, eyes trained on you.
     "Oh... Bub."
    "Let's get, c'mon." He goes to drag you by your arm to the awaiting car.
    "Stop! I'm not going with you."
    A smirk grows on Sans as a frown grows on your brothers. "N-not going? Don't be silly!"
    "Let go of me," you slap his hand away and when your hand falls back to your side, that's when he sees it.
    Your belly. Swollen with child.
     "(Y/n)..."
      You wrap your hands around your stomach protectively as his concerned look turns to a glare. "D-did he rape you? Dear Lord," his hand flies to his mouth in shock.
      "What!? No, no, nothing of the sort. San and-"
     "Hurry, before he gets back."
      "Before who gets back?" San grins wide as he joins your side, wrapping his arm around you and purposefully showing off the ring on his finger. "Long time, no see... Bub."
      His face so that of a ghost, backing away until he hits Hwa, who forces him to kneel.
      "You really left your poor helpless sister for dead?" The words that San speaks knocks the reality back into you. He did leave you. You'd been so happy with your new life that you'd forgotten entirely about what lead up to it. "I doubt you've even got my cash, huh?"
     "Mister, please! Surely you've forgiven me?"
    "I don't hold grudges... my wife is a different story, however." He turns to you with an innocent smile. "Honey?"
"Sissy... Tell me you didn't."
"I did." You dead pan. "You left me!" You land a slap harshly across his cheek. "Bastard!"
"Alright, Miss, don't put too much stress on the baby-" Hwa tries to calm you, but you've already gone off the deep end after being reminded of your life before San.
"I hate you!! You left me all alone! You threw me to the wolves! Where were you?!"
"Sis, just- just come home, you aren't thinking straight."
The cicada chirp loudly, nearly drowning out your next words.
"This is home. This is all I have. This is all I want."
"Sis, what has he-" Tears are welling up in your brothers eyes. And it pisses you off.
"I hate you! I never want to see you again, I hate your coward guts!"
San squeezes your shoulder gently and it brings you back to reality. Your brother is shaking as all of the realizations come crashing down on him. Hwa knows what's about to happen, he and San have talked about it a million times. He takes the gun from his belt and hands it over.
"My Moll has spoken."
Bang.
859 notes · View notes
nisuna · 3 months
Note
Need more yuuji smut!!
So hear me out-
bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.
Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff
Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3
⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this
TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji
~2,8k words~
<3masterlist<3
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--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------
Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.
It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.
"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.
"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.
"Yuji, what are you doing here?"
"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.
"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"
"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."
"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"
"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.
"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.
"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.
"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."
You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.
He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"
"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.
"Want me to carry you?"
"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.
"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."
"Okay."
After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.
Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.
------
You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.
"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.
"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."
"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"
"All day actually...", you confessed.
His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.
After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."
"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Can we cuddle too?"
"We can do whatever you need."
That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"
"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."
"Just what?"
"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."
"But I'm sure, I really want this-"
"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."
You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.
You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.
After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.
"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.
"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.
"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."
You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.
"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.
"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.
"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.
"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.
"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.
"Nope."
"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.
"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."
That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.
"You're practically drooling."
"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.
"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.
"Can I touch you?"
"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"
His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.
"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.
"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.
"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.
"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.
"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.
"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."
Before he could leave you, you stopped him.
"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.
"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.
Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.
He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.
"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."
"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.
"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."
You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.
Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.
"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."
So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.
The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.
"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."
If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.
"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.
Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.
When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.
Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.
"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."
"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.
You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.
"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."
You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.
Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.
--------
If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah
Hope to see you all very soon<3
509 notes · View notes
sunflower-lilac42 · 3 months
Text
✧ 𝐁𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 || luke hughes ♔
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summary: when the depression strikes for no reason, luke is there as he always has been and always will be.
warnings: depression, parents fighting, family struggles
publish date: 02/07/24
notes: she strikes again! i literally don't know why i've been actually fucking grinding out fics but i don't know if anyone is really complaining about it. i hope you guys like this one. it's slightly based off of my life and also slightly based on this lyric from iris by the goo goo dolls "and i don't want the world to see me, 'cause i don't think that they'd understand". somewhat morbid but that's life (you guys asked for this) it's short, and there's a lot of story/world building and not a lot of luke but he's there, i promise. add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!
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There was something about that time of year that caused her depression to hit its highest level. There were a lot of reasons that could’ve caused it, but there was none that she could say was right. It wasn’t seasonal depression, she had been asked that a plethora of times. It wasn’t a feeling of not being enough, she had been told that by multiple therapists.
She could say it was her parents fighting, her parents’ financial struggles, her brothers' snarky comments about how he couldn’t wait to move out and not deal with their crap anymore. She could say it was her family going to her for every little thing that went wrong, the amount of shit she gets from everyone in the family, the comparison of her to her brothers. It could’ve been a lot of things, but she wasn’t about to pin her depression on her family members, it didn’t seem right. 
Every one of her friends and family knew she had depression, it wasn’t a secret. She felt as if as soon as her parents were told about her diagnosis they couldn’t wait to tell every single soul they knew. She felt like she was a story waiting to be told. She often thought that if she had a kid who acted the same way she did, she would know how to raise them better. 
She hated critiquing her parents and her brothers, but they did it to her, didn’t they? She knew about the multitude of times her parents had gone to talk to her brothers about how she hadn’t been to class in a week, how she looked fine so there was no reason for her not to go. She felt like the little boy who cried wolf, however, for much different reasons. 
She always said she was sick when she felt this feeling looming over her so her parents wouldn’t get worried, and they would let her stay home from school. But then, she would actually get sick and no one would believe her. She was stuck in an endless cycle. 
Luke was worried. He had known about her tendencies to fall into this state of mind and not know what caused it. He knew about her family, the therapists, the psychologists, and the social workers. He knew about the multiple attempts everyone had made to get her to open up, about the amount of times she had screamed in her head at them that she didn’t know. He knew about everything.
It was easy for her to open up to Luke when they first met, he had this unmistakably calming and supportive aurora about him. He had bumped into her one day in freshman year, immediately apologizing for not looking where he was going. She had been on her way to the dining hall while he was on his way back, but he offered to take her there anyway. 
Ever since then, they had been each other’s rock. Luke asked her out two months later and the two were practically inseparable. However, this was the first time he had experienced this side of her. He could tell it was happening just slightly, her face said it all. He wasn’t entirely sure of what to do, she had always told him it was nothing to worry about and it should be better in a couple of days. But it wasn’t.
She wasn’t the best at answering her texts, not wanting to face the fact that she was not doing well. She had been cooped up in her room for almost a week now, usually occupying herself with reading or playing a game on her phone. She wanted to go to class, she wanted to do her work, she wanted to do better but she just couldn’t. 
She stared blankly at her phone as her podcast played through her earbuds. She had seen a text from Luke come through but she didn’t pay much attention to it. She felt bad for not answering, yet another part of her brain just accepted defeat and the fact that he might be mad at her. She had been able to get up and sit at her desk which was a step in the right direction, however she hadn’t done much since she got there. 
She heard a knock on the door, ignoring it at first. When the knocking became more persistent, she sighed and got up. Her, Luke’s, hoodie fell from its original bunched-up place in her lap as she walked over to the door. Her eyes had dark circles around them, her hair was tied messily in the back. She opened it and looked at the person standing on the opposite side of the door.
“Hi.”
Usually, she would’ve been excited to see her boyfriend but at this point, that was what she dreaded most. Her face looked tired as she stared at Luke with blank eyes, “Hi.”
Luke nervously shifted his weight back and forth between his feet at the sound of her voice. It was hoarse from the lack of use, it had unfallen tears caught in it, and it had a hint of harshness laced in it. His mind flooded with thoughts as her voice reached his ears, he hadn’t been expecting it to sound that way.
She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something more but he didn’t. The lack of communication between the two caused them to stand in the doorway for three minutes. Luke’s nervousness and awkwardness were seeping into y/n’s body language as she toyed with her hair and stood with her left foot propped up behind her right leg. 
When they made eye contact, the tension in her body went away and her eyes softened, “You wanna come in?”
He nodded and she stepped back so he could walk in. Instead of going back to where she was previously sitting, she went back and climbed into her bed. The feeling of being able to be vulnerable in Luke’s presence made her want to curl into herself, she didn’t want to be vulnerable right now. She pulled her comforter up to her chin, creating heat around her.
Luke shivered from the moment he stepped into her room, goosebumps rising all over his arms. He sighed when he saw his girlfriend revert to her original space, moving to sit at the edge of her bed. He placed his hand on her calf, the sheets creating a barrier from them touching, “Hi baby.”
Those were the only words that both of them could muster, an awkward tension forming between the two of them for no reason. She just stayed staring at the wall in front of her. He let out a soft sigh at the lack of response and turned his head away from her to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to approach this, she had told him not to worry about her but he couldn’t help it. 
“What can I do to help?”
She shrugged in response, not giving him her full attention. Luke slowly moved his thumb to start rubbing her calf in circles as a form of comfort. Another moment of silence passed again, and the two slowly started to become more comfortable with each other once again. 
“Luke?”
“Hmm?” 
“Can you lay with me?”
Luke all but jumped onto the opportunity she gave him, slipping his shoes off and climbing in behind her. He wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It was a mere five seconds before y/n was turning over and burying her head into his chest, “I’m sorry.”
“For what? You haven’t done anything wrong, baby.”
“For not responding, and for being like this.”
Before he had shown up she had hoped he wouldn’t even think about coming over. She hated when people had to see her like this. It wasn’t because of the way she looked but rather the thought that nobody would understand how she felt, that everyone would just complain about her problems.
But Luke was absolutely, positively in love with her. From the moment they met, the way he had been able to make her laugh within two minutes, the way she was able to ramble on about random things to a stranger amazed him. She had him wrapped around her finger since the moment they bumped into each other and there was nothing that would change that. 
He frowned at her words, “Don’t be sorry. You can’t control it.”
“I just wish it would stop sometimes. Move on from me.” He kissed her forehead and held her tighter, feeling angry at the world for doing this to his girl.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you.”
Her fingers went to tangle into his hair, her frowning at his apology. She played with one of the curls that had been sticking out amongst the rest due to its length. Luke calmed down at the feeling and gave her a small smile. It was hard for her to return the action, not having anything to smile about. 
Luke knew that was all he needed to do, just be there for her even if she said she didn’t want him there. Remind her that he would be there to support her through everything, even the parts she didn’t want him to know about. Reassure her that those feelings were common even if he didn’t know what it felt like. Love her as if the world was gonna end tomorrow. 
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𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you
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yourdakg · 1 month
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Donation Found!
Remember Ryder? The SoCal pretty boy who was depressed that his life was a vapid, superficial, and party focused existence? He contacted Turnaround Technologies to ask, nay plead for a new body and a new life. See his Donation Request Form.
If only it were that simple. Turnaround Technologies utilizes some of the most advanced science on the market. When a body is fully adjusted, it's a slow and sometimes torturous process! If it was as simple as switching brains, that would be one thing. But the subjects have to physically transform into one another, and then brainwaves are overwritten. Chemistry, genetics, biology, and psychology are all involved in this elaborate process.
So Ryder had to come up with the $325,000 fee. Luckily, he had money saved and he was able to sell off the red Mustang convertible and his yellow Yamaha Sport Bike to meet the target. The final straw was giving up the deed to his WeHo apartment. Don't tell him, but his donor bought the items! Isn't that funny? He covered the rest with personal loans! Well, a little bit of debt won't hurt.
Let's remind you of where Ryder is starting his journey:
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And now let's the see information plate for his donor. I think he'll be very pleased! After this, he'll never have to worry about being surrounded by vapid, beautiful people and fending off pesky pool party invites! Yes, this is the ideal swap partner for Ryder.
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Meet Dr. Pervus Fondler. And wouldn't you know it? Dr. Fondler was a doctor in Ryder's hometown! They actually know each other. The good doctor cares very deeply for Ryder and was pained when he heard about his current circumstances. He decided that his job as a physician meant he had to step up and give the ultimate sacrifice! You know what they say: First Do No Harm.
Donor Statement: While I am nervous about the process, I am confident that I will give Ryder a new future, one where he won't have to worry about all that vanity and his gym obsession. True freedom for the boy!
Thank you, doctor, for going the extra mile for your patients. Turnaround Technologies will prepare the Exchange Chambers. Both subjects will be stripped down and cleansed before being placed in metallic, moisture wicking bikinis while our technicians prepare for the process:
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Now that Ryder is dressed and the drugs are injected into his system, it's time to introduce him to his generous benefactor. I hope he has a positive reaction to the kind of man he will become. Let's check in!
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Patient Statement: No! Holy shit! No, not Pervus the Perv! You can't put me in that. Don't force me into that body! I'd be going from a perfect ten to a zero. Please! No... LET GO. Please, oh my God. No, I thought it would be another buff guy like me. I change my mind, I changed my mi--**UMPH HRRMPH**
It's not clear why Ryder objected so strongly to his partner. Maybe it was the shock of knowing who the doctor was from earlier in his life. At any rate, he paid the fee and signed the paperwork so there is, quite literally, no going back. Swaps of this nature are once in a lifetime and, of course, quite permanent.
Subject had to be forcibly gagged and sedated.
Add another $125,000 for the service. Ryder sure is going to pay a lot of money for his new life!
When he came to in the chamber, Ryder was pounding on the door. I think he was crying. His oversize genitalia were mashed against the glass in his silver pouch. It was quite the sight. When the whirr of the machine began and the paralyzing blue light hit, his eyes went crossed. He fell backwards and pumped his hips in the air. Well, the erection is to be expected. I've heard the process somewhat erotic, though painful.
It takes a couple days and the exchange unstable during that time, but I am happy to report the following:
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Donor Report: I feel good. Very good. I'm probably going to move to SoCal, sort of take over Ryder's apartment. I'll probably start using his name now too. Don't wanna confuse people. I don't even have my old, perverted urges. I hope he's comfortable with the mental traits foisted on him. Oh... he wants to take picture of me? Ha, okay. I'll flex for $100. Recipient Report: What do you mean I can't go back *whimper* why do I feel so strange. I'm already out of breath. Give it back! What do you mean a name change is included in the package *sob* MY NAME IS PERVUS NOW??!?! Oh. I have to take his medical practice in my shithole hometown? Oh God! I just... oh goodness, seeing it from this angle it's such a fine body. So tight and firm! At least flex for me, my boy? A little. So I can snap a few pics and... use them later. Eehehe. Oh God, what have I become?
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lunajay33 · 2 months
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Not Enough?💔
Summary: you and Carl try and make friends and Ron gets jealous and says cruel things about you, will Carl protect you?
•Masterlist•
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You’ve been friends with Carl since well forever, you were Shane’s daughter and when the apocalypse hit he took care of you Lori and Carl, and you’ve been inseparable from Carl since everything went awry
When your dad died you went into a deep depression but Carl was there he brought you back from that ache black pit of despair, and you did the same for him when he had to kill his mom
But now you were all finally in a safe place, well as safe as things could get in a world where there were brain dead people trying to rip your flesh to shreds
Everyone had stayed in two houses next door to eachother, you chose to stay with Daryl, Rick michonne Judith and Carl in the first house you all stayed in as the others moved over to the other house
You were sitting in your room, which was right next to carls when there was a knock
“Come in”
The door opened and it was Carl
“Hey wanna go talk to some of the kids of the town, try and fit in a bit” he asked leaning against the frame
“Sure” you said as you got up and you both left the house
You were walking around town when you saw a few of them you learned to be Ron, Enid and some others
“Hey guys, mind if we join?” Carl asked as we approached
“Sure we were just talking about our first kisses” Enid said laughing
You sat down with them as they continued around the small circle until it got to you
“Well aren’t you gonna tell us?” Ron asked kinda pushy
“Ummm” you looked at Carl nervous so he spoke for you
“We were each others first kiss, I mean we’ve known eachother since birth it was bound to happen” he said laughing off the jitters
You and Carl weren’t offical, you guys never discussed anything but you both knew there were feelings, strong feelings between eachother that ran deep
You both looked at Ron as he scoffed he looked disgusted but honestly kinda jealous for some reason
“Really? You kissed her, even in the apocalypse that’s pretty desperate” your chest felt tight at his words
“What the hell do you mean?” Carl asked you could hear in his tone he was fuming
“Dude come on, she’s not easy to look at, Enid is way prettier” Ron said laughing right at you
You got up and ran back to the house sitting on the porch, that heavy feeling weighing on your chest as you felt that burning in your throat rising as you tried to hold back the tears that inevitably fell down your checks……and they kept coming
You had never really been insecure, growing up with Carl and his reassuring words and the sweet people you grew up around made you feel good, made you feel like you were enough but that all changed when you came to Alexandria
You saw the way Enid looked at Carl and that’s how you started to compare yourself to her, the way she looked, her nose, her body it all came like a blow to you since you never really experienced envy before
As you were deep in that mind numbing toxic state Carl came up to you on the porch stairs as sat beside you as he rubbed your back soothingly
“He’s an ass, don’t listen to him, he’s just jealous”
“Jealous? Jealous of what, he’s right Enid is way better why waste your time with me” you sighed as you looked up at Carl
His heart broke seeing your red puffy face
“Y/n what are you talking about you’re beautiful, you know you’re the only one for me, with your h/c, and your gorgeous e/c eyes, and how you’ve always been my number one supporter through everything”
“Really?”
“Of course I…..I love you y/n, more than anything so stop worrying no one can compare to you” he said brushing you hair back behind your ear
Your heart speed up feeling like it was gonna burst
“I love you too Carl, always”
After that you slowly realized you’re beautiful in your own way and stopped comparing yourself to Enid, and Carl made sure to show you how beautiful you really are
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How did you guys like this story, I’m new to doing stories for Carl for lmk!!:)
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 10 months
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Pairing : Idol!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : Jeongin is mean ; reader insecurities ; breakup ; fluffy at the end though ; Word Count : 2.2k Request : @moon0fthenight : Can we do an aNNNNGGGSSTTTYYYY innie fic where reader is depressed but my man has been coming from home after a bad day and just takes hun it put on her, (like way bad) and everything comes down like her insecurities and stuff and she breaks up with hom but he begs her to stay A/N : Working on as many requests as I can!!! My request completion attempt will take a brief pause on the first week of July though so I can start working on Season 2 of Before You Fall!! But for now... ENJOY!! I feel like I kind of veered off the track of the actual ask, but it's still close and I hope you still like it!!
“I think work has just been really stressful for him lately.” Your phone was held between your shoulder and your ear as you worked on dinner, quickly cutting up the carrots as you listened to your mom. 
“Maybe you should try to do something special with him? Try to keep his mind off work for a bit.” She offered up, and you hummed in agreement, turning your phone on speaker as you set it on the counter. “A small date, just getting him out of the house. It worked wonders with your father and I, that’s how we’re still together after all this time. Sometimes stress just piles up, you know.” 
“Yeah… You’re right, I’ll try that.” You mumbled, setting down the knife and sighing heavily. “I’ll talk to you later, mom.” You said, quickly hanging up the phone and taking a deep breath. Jeongin was your first serious relationship, he was the first person that you could really see yourself with. You loved him, but sometimes he just… doesn’t show the same kind of empathy that you do. If Jeongin has a bad day at work, the rest of the evening would be just as stressful for you trying to please him. If you had a bad day at work, it was nothing, easily blown over. 
For some reason, Jeongin just assumed that since he made more money, his job was more important than yours. His stress was worse than yours. His emotions were more important. Everything he did, everything he felt took priority over you. At first you let it slide, you just loved him so much and you wanted him to be happy, you wanted him to know that you cared, but you felt like it was time for him to care about you. 
It’s not like your life was any easier just because you weren’t an idol, if anything, it was just as hard. You had to follow his schedules, making sure that dinner was done in time for when he got home even though you were never 100% sure when he’d be home. All of the guys knew about you, and when he was having relationship troubles, he could go to them for advice. You on the other hand had to keep it all a secret. No one could ever know that you were dating him, he wouldn’t be able to handle the scandals or the rumors. Your life was hard, and you were tired of pushing that all down for him, to make sure his life was simpler. 
“I’m home.” Jeongin sighed from the front door, kicking his shoes off, the rubber soles marking up the wall where they hit. Not that he cared, he’d just have you clean the walls or repaint them if he finally came to realize it. “Hyunjin kept coming at me about the dances, I can’t get it right.” He slumped down into his chair, running his hands over his face. 
“Well you just started learning the choreo two days ago… It’s not like you’re going to be a master at it immediately.” You responded, hoping that it would somehow make him feel better. “I got all the stuff to make your favorite dinner when I got off work. Do you want some?” You thought that maybe bringing up your own work would make him ask about it, pique his curiosity about how your day went. 
“That’s great, babe. Get me a big bowl, I’m starving.” He sat up a little in his chair, and you nodded slowly, biting your lip as you walked over to the stove. Of course he didn’t care, he wasn’t even slightly interested in your life. It was all about him, always about him. Did you even exist in the relationship for anything other than cooking his breakfasts and dinners and washing his clothes? He didn’t even touch you anymore, not unless he was super bored and had nothing else to do. 
You placed his bowl down and then grabbed your own, sitting across from him at the table. “Work was awful today… the customers were rude and my manager was short tempered and shitty because I wasn’t working fast enough…” Sure, he hadn’t specifically asked for the details, but maybe he’d show some sort of concern or maybe even compassion after hearing about your day. 
His eyes rolled as he groaned. “It’s just retail, babe. Don’t be such a cry baby about it.” He said and you once again bit your lip, dropping your gaze into your bowl. “I have managers to listen to, Bangchan, I’ve got reporters up my ass all the time. I’d love to have it as easy as you do.” He took another bite of the soup, humming softly to himself. “Finish your dinner so we can watch our show.” He motioned towards your bowl that you had left untouched.
“I was thinking that… maybe we can go out… on a date or something?” You mentioned, picking up your spoon once more and taking a small bite of the soup. “Just to take your mind off of work… and to give me a small break from my job.” Your feet were tapping nervously under the table, your hand shaking as you held the spoon. “Even if it’s just the park… to walk around or something… I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long and…” 
You trailed off, your eyes moving lower to look at your lap when you heard Jeongins sigh. “I literally just said I constantly have reporters following after me… and you suggest going out together?” His bowl was lifted to his lips as he took a long sip of the broth before placing the bowl down again, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel him looking at you. “I’m sorry that I’m busy and I can’t just work 6 hours and come home and relax. Some of us don’t have it that easy.” 
Everything you did was easy in his eyes. He didn’t know how you felt, he didn’t know what it was like. “It’s not… easy…” You muttered, your teeth pressing harder into your bottom lip as you tried to keep it from trembling. “I just wanted to spend time with you…” 
“I’m not stopping you from spending time with me, but for Christ’s sake, I don’t want to hear about how awful your work is when my job is way harder than yours.” There it was again. Why was it a competition of who’s job was the worst? Why did it matter? Why couldn’t you just be there for each other? “My day was awful enough as it is, and then I want to just enjoy dinner and a movie with you and I have to hear about how rough it is to ring up a couple customers. It’s kind of annoying.” 
Annoying… you were annoying…? “Just because I’m not dancing and singing… it doesn’t mean my job isn’t hard. You don’t even know what it’s like…” You mumbled under your breath, but his eyes slightly widened as he leaned forward across the table to hear you better. 
“Say that again… Speak up, I hate it when you mumble.” He groaned, reaching over to tilt your chin up. “And look at me when you’re talking so that I can at least try to read your lips if I can’t understand you.” Did he not even notice that you were trying not to cry right now? 
“I said that… You don’t know what it’s like…” You said just a little louder now, and you could tell that he heard you, his finger falling from beneath your chin as he leaned back in his chair. “My boss is an asshole, I have to deal with customers that bitch and complain at me all day long, I barely even get a long enough break to breathe before I have to go back in and deal with it all over again. I come back home and I can’t talk to you about it because apparently my job and everything I do is shit to you. I’m so alone here and even if I had someone to talk to about how I feel, I couldn’t because no one can know about you and I being together… Even though it doesn’t even feel like we are.” You were breathing heavily as you looked at him, at least you hadn’t looked away yet. “Why are we together? I… I don’t even know… I… I want to break up.” 
Now those words hadn’t actually been planned, and they most definitely hadn’t been thoroughly thought over before they had left your mouth, but now they were out, hanging in the air above the table like a chandelier. “You… Want to break up?” He questioned, as if giving you another chance to take back those words, god, he wanted you to take them back, but he didn’t want to say anything yet… He needed to know if you actually meant them. 
So you thought it over, and you thought for what felt like a good bit before ultimately nodding your head. “There’s nothing here… for either of us… I don’t even know what we’re holding onto.” You sniffled softly before clearing your throat, and for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel so nervous talking to him, everything was finally out on the table. “I’m tired of competing… I’m tired of feeling like I’m not good enough. You don’t even ask me how my days have been… it’s always all about you. I’m tired of giving my all and… not even getting 25% in return. I want to break up, Jeongin.” 
There were many things in this world that your heart couldn’t handle seeing, and one of those things were tears in Jeongins eyes. His fox-like eyes completely glossed over as twinkling tears trickled down his cheeks had your heart aching. “Please… Don’t leave me…” He shakily whispered, his hands folded on the table as his thumbs rolled over each other. “You’re… You’re my first girlfriend and… I’m still learning how to do this right.” He took a deep breath, coughing immediately afterward as the lump in his throat got larger. “I’m trying, and I’m always scared that I’m not doing enough… and I was right… I’m not doing enough. I’m doing everything wrong.” 
“Jeongin…” 
“But you are good enough!” He cut you off with the choked out declaration, his head finally lifting to reveal his puffy red eyes as his tears continued to fall. “A-Ask Chan hyung…. I never shut up about you. I annoy the hell out of everyone there because you’re all I talk about. You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me in my life, and I’m so lucky I have you and I don’t want to lose you just because I’m an idiot.” 
“Jeongin… I…” 
“And work has just been really stressful lately.” He continued, and you knew that it would be pointless to try to get a word in while he was ranting, so you sat back in your chair, watching as he continued to sob, his lips trembling as he spoke, giving his words a sort of vibrato. “I don’t know why I try to compete… I know that your job sucks too… You can quit it… I want you to quit it… I don’t want to think of people treating you like that. I’ll support you, I’ll support us… And I know that you’re tired of hiding… And I’m tired of it too… I’m gonna talk to management. I want to post pictures with you, I want to show everyone our matching outfits, I want to show everyone how beautiful you are, how lucky I am…” His words broke at the end as his face fell back into his hands, his breaths becoming heavy and quick as his sobs grew silent and his voice became hoarse. “Don’t… Don’t break up with me, please… Just one more chance… I’ll be better… I promise.” 
You pushed away from the table and got up, watching his eyes widen with fear as he watched you, but you walked over to him, lowering down onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I didn’t know you cared that much…” You whispered, kissing his cheeks that were salty with the tears that he had spilled. “I love you, Innie…” 
His arms snaked around you, holding you on him, making sure that you won’t even try to get up. “I love you too… I love when you call me that…” The sigh of relief was audible even after his face was hidden against your shoulder, his voice muffled against the sleeve of your hoodie. “I don’t think I’ve panicked that much since right before we debuted.” He chuckled nervously, his eyes wide as he looked up at you. “Were you… Really going to break up with me though…?” Your own eyes wavered before you hesitantly nodded yes and then his eyes somehow widened even more. “Yeah well… You can’t do that. I won’t allow it. Next time you think about breaking up with me, talk to me first, and if I’m being an asshole, hit me… And if I’m still being an ass, then you can threaten me with leaving.” He took a deep breath before letting it out in one heavy huff. “Ugh, my eyes feel like they’re gonna fall out. Come… Come, it’s cuddle time, and we’re watching our movie and you’re not allowed to move unless it’s for a bathroom break or a snack trip.” He planted kisses all along your cheeks, pulling you closer every time you tried to move away. “No! Receive my love! All 100% percent of it! I’m never letting you go! You’re mine!” 
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snnnailmail · 1 month
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THE NEW CHAPTER IS SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVGDFCHBVKDSVBKHFBJLSVBJLSSJLVBSLJBVLS🦅🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥💥 GOOD FKN SOUP IM DEVOURING IT RN it might be my fav chapter thus far........It has elements of The horrors tm and scenes that make me kick my feet in delight GODDDDDD🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 AAAAnd as usual I have some new silly doodles that I've got (Sadly I cant draw fast enough to finish my fan art for this chapter BUTIMWORKINGONSMT). I do have the RGB reader designs that I mainly use so that other fans could (maybe....just maybe...) mold their reader/player into whatever they want but I DO have a design that caters to my fav design tropes...
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ALSOALSO- I've got a folder righttt 👉here where I'll compile some more sketches (and the animation with the right sync good gracious me-) so that I dont BOMBARD you with 50plus images.
the last "AGAIN"- THE CHAPTER WAS SO SCRUMPTIOSSSSSSS- KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you I'm so glad you love it!! 🦅💥 (Nonsense emojis are becoming a habit I have to stoppp...)
It's so funny you said that cuz I have a Doc called "kicking my feet blushing giggleinf" that I use to jot down the "fluffy" moments when the inspiration worms hit x0
And take your time with the art gurl!! What you've already done is amazing!! The most important thing is that it's fun and engaging for you,, no pressure 🫶
Those RGB designs are a banger btw they have so much personality!! I forgot to mention I loved the color scheme of your animation. I'm a sucker for some super saturated RGB...
OKAY now I'm gonna gush abt your art >:o] I love your insert she's too spunky!! She looks so done w him LOL. Also your style is delightful and fun!! I love your habit of drawing ppl with tired eyes and no mouth. It speaks to me.
The “You look lonely” piece is gorgeous btw :) He’s so shinyyy,, Insert looks tireddd. I know it’s the meme format or whatevah but I would be too.
I hope you don’t mind me sharing screenshots? Just let me know :o) I’m abt to holler abt some sketches.
THESE!! These made me so soft oml. I know in my heart he feels like a Squishmallow or whatever those fat chibi stuffed animals are.
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DRIP KINITO 🔥🔥🔥 I giggled. Also baseball Kinito is canon now. To me. I just KNOW he picks up random human sports and tries his darndest to play them with only two people. (Reader cheering him on and also looking thoroughly depressed is so real LMAO)
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I think that's all I have in my heart for now... TY for this plethora of art you went above and beyond <3
BTW I’m gonna provide a pic of the players here for easy viewing cuz they’re cool as freak 💯🐊
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EDIT: I am so glad!! You love my fic!! I heart U!!
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jasmines-library · 6 months
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Catch me If I fall
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WHUMPTOBER DAY 12: prompt: self harm
Fandom: Batfam
Summary: after the death of Jason, you can’t help but feel guilty, so you resort to some unhealthy coping methods.
Warnings: SELF HARM, blood, character death, depressive thoughts.
Word count: 1.3k
Note: this one is extremely sensitive and contains many trigger warnings, please read at your own discretion.
Remember, If you are ever struggling, please don’t be ashamed to reach out. My DMs are always open, or you can seek one of many helplines. Please remember, you are not alone and there are people who will help you navigate your thoughts and feelings. You are strong, you are loved, you are perfect.
M ASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
He was gone.
Jason Todd was gone. Dead. Killed in an explosion that would forever be burned into the front of your brain. The sound replayed itself over and over again in your mind; the shattering of the glass and the groaning of the metal frames as they collapsed in on eachother, the deafening booming of the explosive and the scuffing of your feet on the concrete as you stopped dead in your tracks, too far away to help and too late to reach him in time.
At first, the tears refused to fall from your cheeks as you surged forwards racing towards where the warehouse once stood. You arrived at the wreckage at the same time as the Bat. When he pulled Jason’s body from the wreckage, limp with eyes devoid of life, the tears still refused to fall. You just watched blankly as he held his son, trying not to focus on the mangled, blood covered flesh that covered every inch of his skin. Even in death Jason looked pained, his face permanently contorted into an unseeing gaze of pain.
Returning back to the manor and breaking the news to Dick was even harder. You watched as he flung the nearest thing across the room and let it shatter on the floor. You picked the skin around your fingers as he sunk down onto the floor and broke down, tears cascading down his face. Fat and hot like heavy droplets of rain falling from the sky. But still, your own stubbornly refused to fall.
It was only hours later when you had locked yourself away in your room that you let out a shrill cry of anguish, falling to the floor. Heavy sobs wracked your body as you trembled digging your nails into palms and biting down harshly on the inside of your cheeks, You blinked away your tears the fell freely, squeezing them from your eyes as you squeezed them tight, trying to shut out the constant memory of Jason Todd.
It was then that the thoughts came flooding to you. Obnoxious, penetrating thoughts that hit you like a ton of bricks. You should have gotten there quicker. If you had just stuck with Jason or forced him to keep his comms on then. It was your fault that he had gone off on his own. It was your fault that Jason Todd was dead.
Your suit was damp with tears and clung too close to your body. You felt suffocated. As you began to push off your boots, your bowie knife that you usually kept tucked away for emergencies clattered to the ground, You froze. It was the one that you had been given when you began your vigilante training with Bruce all those years ago. You picked it up, flipping the leather-bound hand between your palms and admiring the way that the metal glinted as it caught the light.
Some sane part of your body screamed at you not to do it. That it was wrong, that your family would be disappointed if they found out. But the other overpowering side still echoed with those thoughts. You couldn’t help but sink deeper into the guilt. And so you brought the knife down to your flesh, barely recognising the pain as the red ribbons formed on your skin.
~
That feeling of guilt never went away. It still sat there like a heavy weight even after Jason returned 6 months later. Although Jay was back, he was changed. Haunted by his own memories, he struggled to re-adjust to his life especially after the memories of his brutal murder flooded back to him. It took him a while to come to terms with his safety. It was only once the two of you had spent many nights clinging on to each other and giving reassurances that he finally allowed himself to relax slightly.
But the boy’s return didn’t just affect him. The sudden shift had troubled all of you, flipping your lives which you had slowly managed to learn to navigate without him upside down.
You began to retreat into your room again, spending more time alone. You slunk around the manor, avoiding the others when possible. It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by Dick who often lingered by your door, but was too afraid to knock or barge his way in. Opting to give you space. The space never helped though. It just became a void of guilt and constant reminders of your sluggishness. Although the image of Jason’s frail body never quite left your mind, his return brought it back stronger. It began to plague your nightmares again, causing you to wake up in a cold sweat. It caused the silence to morph into muffled cries and with that came the return of old habits.
Trailing your finger over the lines of scar tissue, your body felt numb. Silent, you left yourself with the stickiness of hot tears trailing down your face; each one a reminder of your failures. Of the times that you weren’t perfect enough to save everybody. The knife ran sharply across your skin, allowing the blood to bead as it trailed. The stinging allowed a sense of relief for a while. That was until it didn’t. After that, you turned to pressing deeper into your complexion, allowing the blood to dribble from your arm.
~
Dick lingered in front of your door once again. He hadn’t seen you all day and had begun to grow worried. Deep creases lined his brow as he stood, shut out from you by the painted wood. He knew you hadn’t been in the best of places since his little brother had been ripped so cruelly from the world. Dick hated watching you retreat. He loathed that sad look and far away gaze that settled on your face when he thought no one was looking. His hand was hovering as he prepared to knock when he noticed his younger brother waltz around the corner. Jason slowed furrowing his brows.
“What are you doing?” He quizzed. Though not oblivious to your struggle, he didn’t believe in getting involved in someone else’s business. Especially when he was still trying to short his own shit out.
Dick only said one word which sent the two men into a preganant silence. “Listen.”
Your sobs and outbursts of frustration could be heard from the other side of the door frame. The younger of the two recoiled at the noise. Dicks hand moved towards the door handle after knocking and being blanked.
The door shuddered open and Dick poked his head around the corner. He froze, heart dropping to his feet when he took you in.
Your knees were pulled tightly to your chest, where your head rested grimly. Your wrists were a bloody mess like the knife which lay a few feet away from you. You half-nursed them carefully, as though you knew something about them was off, but you couldn’t get yourself to care enough about it.
“Oh god…”
He took cautious, but long strides steps to get to you before taking your arms in his, not caring abou there stickiness that coated his clothes and spilled down his fingers. There was so much of it he was surprised it still fell from your body.
You tried not to acknowledge him in away, but once your lifted your head and spotted his face, the tears began again. Dick pulled you into a height embrace as the tears began to fall again
“I-I’m sorry.” You stumbled, “I..”
“Shh.” Dick coaxed, pulling you into his arms: “nothing is your fault.”
“But I- Jason. I wasn’t fast enough.”
“Oh little bat…” Jason squatted down by his brother. “There’s nothing you could have done about that.”
“Yes there is. I could have convinced you to-“
“Stop it.”
“I’m sorry.” You murmured. “I’m sorry but they won’t leave. Make them leave please.
“We will baby bat. We will.
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
<- DAY 11 ⛤ DAY 13 ->
🏷️ Taglist:
@senjoritanana
@deans-spinster-witch
@amaryllis23
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skyahri · 30 days
Text
Retire |Kakashi X Reader| HC
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Pairing: Kakashi Hatake X Reader
Summary: You need some convincing to leave ANBU.
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and depression. Mentions of suicide. A bit angsty and self-destructive, but fluffy overall.
- - - - -
Even though he'd retired a few years back, you were still an active ANBU captain.
The job was grueling, and he was well aware that the longer you stayed, the worse the missions became.
That isn't just because of the overall baggage people acquire, but because seasoned black ops were often sent on the more... unethical missions.
You'd been acting off recently. He had let it go at first, knowing how taxing the line of work could be, but something in his mind was bugging him to investigate.
He assumed everything had started to actually get to you, so he decided to check in on you between missions with team 7.
He knocked on your door. It took a minute, but you answered.
He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.
Your appearance was appalling.
You'd lost a lot of weight, you had bags under your eyes, and you reeked of alcohol.
"Just checking in on you. It's been a while."
"Yeah, Tsunade has me on back to back missions. This is my first break in months."
He had assumed his intensive schedule with his team was the thing keeping you two apart, but apparently not.
"How about you get cleaned up while I go get us something to eat? My treat."
"I'm pretty tired, Kashi. I think I'd like to continue rotting for the time being. Thanks for the offer, though."
You gently shut the door in his face.
A sour look plastered itself on his face.
Unfortunately, your use of rotting didn't seem too far off, so he decided to talk to a third party about it.
His first stop was to see Tenzo. Maybe he knew what was up since you two worked so closely.
"I've noticed as well. I tried to ask, but they told me it wasn't appropriate for subordinates to question their captain."
Add that to the list of odd behavior.
You loved Tenzo like family, just like Kakashi did, so the sudden change was worrisome.
He went to ask Asuma as well, knowing he had been in the village more often than he had recently.
Asuma pulled him inside his home and away from prying eyes. Last thing he wanted was the wrong person hearing such a sensitive information.
"We already talked to Tsunade about it months ago when we noticed a decline in her health. Word got back to them, they said something about breach of trust, and they haven't spoken to any of us since."
Kakashi just nodded.
He remembered a time where he also reacted poorly when he'd been questioned in a similar manner.
The only difference is lord Third actually listened instead of allowing him to dig himself deeper into an early grave.
He dwelled on it for a few days.
He cared about you deeply. It was different than any of his other friendships- more personal and open.
The last thing he wanted was to go behind your back and end up with the same treatment the rest of the group was getting.
So he put on his big boy pants and showed up at your door again with vengeance.
He had been practicing what he'd say the whole way over. He needed to be prepared for anything you threw at him so he didn't falter.
But when you opened the door, his fire simmered out.
You just looked so tired.
His words got stuck in his throat.
So he did the only thing he could think of - he just walked forward, straight into you, and wrapped you up in a hug.
You resisted at first, but the second his warmth hit your bones, you relaxed.
It only lasted for a moment before the feelings started to set in, causing your body to shake with sobs.
You fell to the ground, dragging him with you, but his hold didn't loosen one bit.
"It's okay. I'm here for you."
That only made things worse. Something about his comfort was making all the feelings you've worked so hard to repress bubble up to the surface.
After you'd visibly calmed down, he'd picked you up and carried you to the couch. He positioned you so you'd be touching as much as possible without him being too forward.
"I hate ANBU."
Straight to the point. He wasn't sure if that was good or not.
"Why don't you retire? It's been almost fifteen years. That's way longer than most make it."
You hesitated. You had a reason, but the thought of saying it out loud made it sound so silly.
One look at Kakashi’s face told you he wasn't messing around.
You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. It made it easier to answer without him looking at you.
"If it's not me going out there, its someone else. I'm already too far gone, may as well save someone else from this fate."
Oh.
Kakashi had fully been expecting some sort of 'I can handle it' response, but this one was so... awful. Just absolutely heart-wrenching.
He collected his thoughts, trying to find a way to reason with you.
"There are people in ANBU who can handle that kind of mental load. You were that person many years ago,"
You just looked at him with that sad, defeated face, and it broke his heart all over again.
"But that's not the case anymore. It's time to pass on the torch."
You shook your head, ready to get up and kick him out. He just pulled you back down and held your hands in his.
"I was so angry when I was forced to retire. I felt like I could do more, like it wasn't that bad, and everyone was underestimating me. Do you know what happens when shinobi like us aren't told to quit?"
You shook your head.
"They end up like my father."
You stayed silent after that. How could you argue when he had just pulled the dead dad card?
So you promised to think about it.
He knew that would be as good as it would get, so he dropped it and opted to switch to a lighter subject.
After an hour or so of talking, you fell asleep. He carried you to your bed and tucked you in. He thought about staying over, but decided against it.
He didn't see you the next day. He'd knocked on your door, but no one answered, and he couldn't sense you inside.
He hoped you were just busy and not on another mission.
He did see you the next day, however.
He was heading to the Hokage's tower to chat with Tsunade about team 7's next mission when he bumped into you.
You smiled at him.
It felt like he was looking at a different person. You were almost glowing. Your eyes seemed a bit brighter, face looked a little fuller, and overall vibe was less damming.
"I retired this morning."
He damn near hugged you in front of the whole village.
"That's great to hear."
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munchmemes · 4 days
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taylor swift lyrics, the tortured poets department edition, part two
guilty as sin?
▸ my boredom's bone-deep. ▸ am i allowed to cry? ▸ i'm seeing visions, am i bad? or mad? or wise? ▸ one slip and i'm falling back into the hedge maze. ▸ oh, what a way to die. ▸ i keep recalling things we never did. ▸ how i long for our trysts. ▸ how can i be guilty as sin? ▸ i keep these longings locked inside a vault. ▸ someone told me there's no such things as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. ▸ they're gonna crucify me anway. ▸ what if they way you hold me is actually what's holy? ▸ i choose you and me religiously.
who's afraid of little old me?
▸ the "who's who?`" of "who's that?" is poised for the attack. ▸ you don't get to tell me about 'sad'. ▸ if you wanted me dead, you should've just said. nothing makes me feel more alive. ▸ who's afraid of little old me? you should be. ▸ the scandal was contained, the bullet had just grazed. ▸ at all costs, keep your good name. ▸ you don't get to tell me you feel bad. ▸ is it a wonder i broke? ▸ let's hear one more joke. then we could all just laugh until i cry. ▸ i was tame, i was gentle till the circus life made me mean. ▸ they say they didn't do it to hurt me but what if they did? ▸ i want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me. ▸ you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me. ▸ isn't that what they all said? that i'm fearsome and i'm wretched and i'm wrong. ▸ you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. ▸ you caged me and then you called me crazy. ▸ i am what i am 'cause you trained me.
i can fix him (no really i can)
▸ the jokes that [you/they] told across the bar were revolting and far too loud. ▸ they shake their heads, saying "god help [them]" when i tell 'em you're the one. ▸ i can fix him, no really i can. and only i can. ▸ i could see it from a mile away. ▸ you had a halo of the highest grade, you just hadn't met met yet. ▸ come close, i'll show you heaven if you'll be an angel all night. ▸ trust me, i can handle me a dangerous [man/woman].
loml
▸ we were just kids, babe. ▸ i don't mind, it takes time. ▸ i thought i was better safe than starry-eyed. ▸ i felt aglow like this. never before and never since. ▸ you and i went from one kiss to getting married. ▸ you said i'm the love of your life about a million times. ▸ a conman sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme. ▸ i felt a hole like this never before and ever since. ▸ what we thought was for all time was momentary. ▸ i wish i could un-recall how we almost had it all. ▸ the coward claimed he was a lion. ▸ i'll still see it until i die. you're the loss of my life.
i can do it with a broken heart
▸ i can show you lies. ▸ i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit. ▸ they said 'you gotta fake it 'til you make it' and i did. ▸ you said you'd love me all your life but that life was too short. ▸ i can do it with a broken heart. ▸ i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday every day. ▸ i cry a lot but i am so productive, it's an art. ▸ you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart. ▸ i can hold my breath, i've been doing it since [you/they] left. ▸ i'm miserable and nobody even knows!
the smallest man who ever lived
▸ was any of it true? ▸ now you know what it feels like. ▸ i don't miss what we had. ▸ in public, you showed me off then sank in stoned oblivion. ▸ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man. ▸ were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? ▸ good riddance 'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden. ▸ i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside. ▸ in plain sight you hid but you are what you did. ▸ i'll forget you but i'll never forgive.
the alchemy
▸ this happens once every few lifetimes. ▸ these chemicals hit me like white wine. ▸ what if i told you i'm back? ▸ the hospital was a drag. worst sleep i ever had. ▸ ditch the clowns, get the crown. ▸ what if i told you we're cool? ▸ honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy? ▸ where's the trophy?
clara bow
▸ all your life, did you know you'd be picked like a rose? ▸ i'm not trying to exaggerate but i think i might die. ▸ this town is fake but you're the real thing. ▸ take the glory, give everything. ▸ promise to be dazzling. ▸ you're the new god we're worshipping. ▸ beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours, demanding more. ▸ it's hell on earth to be heavenly. ▸ them's the breaks, they don't come gently.
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nokaslitz · 5 months
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needy - bill kaulitz x reader
inspired by @tottgeliebt !!
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smut
638 words
tw: smut, sub bill??
you'd left the house to get a few groceries since your cupboards are looking quite depressing. you went alone, leaving your poor, needy boyfriend all alone. not even four minutes without your presence, bill drifts off to sleep, his hands gripping the fabric of your pillowcase.
as his sleeping body curls up against your pillow, the familiar scent of you clings onto the black fabric and enters bills nose causing the boy to dream of you, his lover.
the dream progresses, his skinny jeans seemingly becoming a size too small. his body shifts uncomfortably from the tightness of his boxers and belt. his dark eyes flutter open upon feeling the pillow press against where he needs you most. a small, pitiful whimper escapes his pink lips as he presses the cotton harder into his groin.
his hand slowly creeps down his long torso, his fingers shakily working at his belt. it hits the floor with a gentle clank, his pants following soon after.
the poor, horny boy, now being left only in his boxers and a tight shirt climbs atop your pillow. with his knees on either side, pressing into the mattress, he slowly begins grinding on the pillow.
his head tilts back, silent moans escaping his throat. he pushes his throbbing member against the pillow, desperately seeking the friction he knows he won't achieve with those damned boxers. he would hate to ruin your pillow with his own seed but that's the last thing on his needy mind right now.
so of course, his boxers are slid off, his eager cock springing free. he presses it against your pillow, his thin hips rolling with every grind. like a dog in heat, he humps the pillow, slamming his hips into the soft plush. his teeth release his bottom lip as his mouth flies open, a moan leaving his throat.
his warm cum spurts from his tip, splattering against your pillow. he falls to his side, whimpering as he desperately tries to wipe away his seed, yet he only smudges it deeper into the cotton. his eyes widen with guilt as the bedroom door opens.
his eyes glisten as he watches you sigh, shaking your head. you walk over to the bed, placing a hand on his head as you look down at your stained pillow. "oh, bill. what am i going to do with you?" you question, your voice breathy with disappointment.
bill looks down in shame, almost tearing up. "you can just never wait, can you? so damn needy." you mutter, picking up your pillow and stripping it from the case. you throw them into a basket of dirty clothes. you walk back over to bill, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. your hand rests on his bare thigh, your other hand brushing his bangs out of his eyes.
"what do you have to say for yourself?" you ask, giving your dumb boyfriend a soft glare. his bottom lip quivers, his eyebrows knitting together with guilt. "i'm s-sorry.." he whimpers quietly, fidgeting with his fingers while avoiding eye contact.
"look at me." you order, forcing his head up to look you in the eye. "say it again." your words and tone of voice elicit a small sniffle and nod from bill. "i-i'm so sorry, schatz. i co-couldn't help myself." he whines, sounding like a toddler you've just stolen candy from.
another sigh escapes your lips. "how do you expect to be treated like a pretty little doll when you can't act like one?" you scold calmly. he gives a sad, shaky shrug. your hand comes up to his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.
"i'll go put my pillow in the wash. run yourself a bath, i'll be there in a minute, okay?" you tell. he nods.
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telekitnetic-art · 8 months
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Finally got the skin cover off so here’s the tattoo I’ve been teasing for a while!!! I’m really happy with how it turned out and I hope you guys like it!!
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(Who wins; a pic of the tattoo the tattoo artist took himself after he finished it with his professional photography and lighting setup, or a photo I took while fighting for my fucking life trying to set up the right angle after I got out of the shower?)
Edit: the condensation over the bathroom mirror finally went away so here’s another picture
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Plus the final design and some symbolism/tattoo significance below the cut
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The main reason I chose Fireweed is because A) it’s my clan’s crest!! I’m from the Laksamshu clan!
The second is because of Fireweed’s significance in nature; for those of you that don’t know, fireweed is known primarily for how it grows after a wildfire or similar natural disaster. In wildfire burn areas where ground has been ruined, fireweed actually thrives and is considered to be one of the first signs of an ecosystem regrowing after a disaster! They grow fast and spread quickly, which is ideal for areas that have been ravaged by fire. More info here.
Because of this, I wanted to try and pair the fireweed with a stylus pen (a common pen used for digital artwork, I’m sure most people know on Tumblr what it is) as a symbolism of creativity and renewed passion for artwork. My motivation to create has taken some rough hits over the years for multiple reasons, I’m sure most online artists can relate, so I wanted to design this tattoo with the thought in mind that no matter what happens, I still have that creative energy with me no matter how burnt out I feel or how divisive or depressing the art scene can be. A symbol that I have the ability and talent to create, even when I feel like I’ve lost it.
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simpforboys · 1 year
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set fire to the rain
neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader
summary: your relationship with neteyam was beautiful until the return of the sky people. now you have to adapt your life to things you would never expect.
warnings: angst! fluff in the beginning-middle, swearing, character death, pregnancy, unknown pregnancy, mentions of smut aged up! character
based on set fire to the rain by my queen adele
this is a long one but i’m actually so proud of it, let me know what you all think <33 (not proof read)
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𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚝
𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛
𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎
you met neteyam when you were seven years old. neteyam was eight. he was taller, quicker, and wiser. it never changed as he grew into a teenager.
he always was a shining star; the prince of the omatikaya clan. it wasn't until you had turned seventeen, neteyam eighteen, when you would become his true shining star.
you were happy with another man, going to mate officially with him once you turned eighteen in a month. but the plan quickly changed once you saw him courting another woman under the tree of souls.
your heart shattered as you watched them mate, the woman unknowingly taking your place. you would never forget the way it felt for your heart to drop completely.
but neteyam was quick to pick you back up. he had watched you from afar ever since being juveniles, an unknown presence drawing himself to you.
your depressive state hit him more than he would like to admit it, but he strived to make you see him the way he saw you.
it took months, but eventually, you found yourself falling for the prince. he made you feel something no other man has made you feel before.
"where are we going, neteyam?" you questioned the boy as you closed your eyes, following the sound of his excited voice.
"somewhere special, ma y/n. mawey (calm)."
your once broken heart fluttered against your chest. your tail wagged happily behind you, neteyam's own following your pattern as he took you to his place.
his place he went to when his father got too much for him, a place that he felt his best. "open."
you opened your eyes, adjusting to the bright nightlife that surrounded you. the plants glowing blues, pinks, purples, and about every color you could think of.
seeds from the tree of souls soon landed on top of you and neteyam, eywa's ultimate sign.
"y/n, there is something out there that is telling me that we are meant for each other. i can never get you out of my head, the feeling i get just when you are around me- i cannot even describe it,"
your heart pounded as your ears fell flat, signaling you were listening intently to his words. the na'vi man grabbed your hands in his.
"it would be the biggest honor if you were to mate with me."
"oh, neteyam." you practically jumped against him, pulling the tall man into your embrace. your tail instinctively wrapped itself around his own, pulling each other closer.
"oel ngati kameie (i see you), y/n."
"oel ngati kameie, ma neteyam."
neteyam placed his soft lips gently against your own, the feeling magical as he finally got to hold you the way he always wanted to.
"i will protect your heart, mind, and soul while i live." he mumbled against your skin.
➽─────────────────❥
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞
𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠, 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠
𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚢
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎, 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎
a year went by of you and neteyam being officially mated. it wasn't until the sky people had returned when your lives flipped upside down.
jake had taken you under his wing when neteyam brought you home, allowing you the option for mo'at to help train you as tsahìk. but you had turned it down, preferring to hunt and live a freeing life.
the night neteyam broke the news to you was right after lo'ak had almost gotten him killed.
you were making dinner in your little hut, waiting for your mate to return from the meeting with his family.
the tall man was silent as he returned, picking at his fruit while you ate.
"are you going to tell me what is troubling you?" you questioned him.
you began to get worried as you watched his lips tremble.
"i have to go, ma y/n."
you placed your hand on his stripped knee, stomach turning as you stared at his broken face.
"what?"
"the sky people are after me and my family... we must leave the clan to protect everyone."
you stayed quiet for a minute, trying to process what he had just told you. "then i am coming with you."
"no- it is too dangerous."
neteyam went to stand, you quickly following his lead.
"neteyam-"
"ma y/n, please," it was the first time you had seen him cry. his voice was shaking as he ran a hand through his long braids.
"please stay here. it is not safe for you to come."
"i cannot lose you, 'teyam."
your mate pulled you into his embrace, your head resting into the crook of his neck as you both sniffled.
"you will not lose me, i am just going to be away for awhile."
"how are you going to protect me?" you asked him quietly, tears rolling off your cheeks and onto his chest.
➽─────────────────❥
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗
𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎
𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍
'𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎
𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎
it had been months since neteyam left you. everyday your heart yearned for him, needing to see and hold your mate once more. but you knew your people needed you, so you continued to stay.
as the days went past, your heart continued to grow heavy. you had been complaining to mo'at of a stomach ache for a week now, neither of you knowing how to treat it.
but when you were sleeping, a voice woke you up gently.
norm's eyes met yours, an apologetic yet scared look on his face.
"jake just called, he said something is wrong with kiri. do you want to come with us?"
you quickly jumped up, rushing after the group of dream walkers. the pain in your stomach grew tighter as you called your ikran.
"we go!" you said to the group, jumping onto your purple ikran with gold accents.
you glided next to the avatars as they flew in a helicopter, your mind racing as the edge of the forest grew closer.
you were gripping onto the hold of your ikran in pain, a gust of wind faltering your movement.
neteyam…
it sounded like someone was warning you. a chill ran down your spine as you looked around.
"we have to loop around, y/n." norm called out. you nodded, not forgetting the eerie spirit that called out your mate's name.
➽─────────────────❥
the journey was long as your tired eyes threatened to close every minute. you had no clue where you were going, following the helicopter full of dream walkers.
as you let out another yawn, you opened your eyes fully to see the clearest water you have ever seen. you couldn't help but marvel at the sight, seeing every coral and creature that lived.
"alright, closing in." you heard norm speak.
you straightened your back and adjusting your clothing garments, preparing to meet your mate. what if he found someone else? what if he didn't want you to come?
the thoughts ate away at you as you saw the clan of reef people. you couldn't help but feel guilty for leaving your people, your stomach aching once more.
your ikran roared as the helicopter landed on the sand, a crowd forming around as you narrowed your eyes. your gaze on jake, your father-in-law.
you let out a deep breath as you landed your ikran, jumping off the creature and disconnecting your queues.
"y/n?" jake asked, releasing norm from a strange embrace.
"where is neteyam?" you questioned him. you both looked exhausted, despite jake being directly on the peaceful ocean.
"he is with kiri."
you could feel people's eyes on you, judging your appearance, fawning over it, or confused on why you showed up.
you nodded at your father-in-law, following after norm and jake as they rushed to help kiri.
they approached a marui pod, your heart rate suddenly picking up as your previous thoughts filled your head. your chest hurt from anxiety and you couldn't help but peek in the pod.
there sat tuk, neytiri, lo'ak, and neteyam.
"y/n?" tuk gasped in excitement, noticing the feather and beads she braided into your hair one night.
your body appeared from the entrance, everyone's ears dropped as the sun gave you a silhouette.
"y/n!" tuk ran over to you, hugging your stomach tightly as you hugged her back. neteyam quickly stood up, believing it was all a dream.
as tuk let go, your eyes built tears as your mate approached you.
"ma y/n?" he asked softly, almost scared to believe you were really here with him. you nodded, hugging him tightly.
back in your mate's embrace, it felt as if every thought was swept away. until you heard, "neteyam" whisper past your ear, wind rushing into the pod.
➽─────────────────❥
𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎
𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜
𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛
neteyam had taken you out onto the beach that night, happiness in his body; an emotion he hasn't felt in months.
his hand held yours as you two walked on the cold sand, your toes scrunching against the dirt-like substance. the sound of the waves was like music to your ears.
"i cannot believe you are here," neteyam said. it was hours after norm left, sunset dawning over pandora. the sky a deep purple, illuminating both your white freckles.
"we do not get sunsets like these in the forest," you teased.
neteyam grinned down at you, watching as you sat on the sand. he followed your lead, stars softly coating the sky.
neteyam laid down, not caring about sand getting stuck in his hair. you laid on his chest, cuddling against him as you gazed on the pretty eclipse.
"i could not last another day without you, ma neteyam," you admitted. his calming heartbeat reassured you everything, his hand gently running up and down your bicep.
"i hated being away from you... but you shouldn't have come, y/n." your mate replied.
you frowned at his words, leaning up so you could look down on his glowing features. "whatever comes, we will tackle it together. we will protect each other."
“i promise you, we will go home together.”
you leaned down to press a nurturing kiss on his plump lips, his hand moving to your lower back. he pushed you closer to him, desperate for your attention he has so longed for.
that night you reconnected on the beach, unknowing it would be the last peaceful night you share.
➽─────────────────❥
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎, 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚗, 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚗
life seemed to be going by too quickly. the next day, the tsahìk, ronal, had her spirit sister and calf die. your heart ached for the poor woman, never wanting to lose your own ikran.
neteyam held your hand as the metkayina people grouped together, doing cultural shouts. you looked at your mate, holding onto his bicep as jake calmed the crowd down.
"you tell the tulkun that if they're hit by one of these they're marked for death, okay?" jake announced, showing a tracking dart.
your eyes trained on the bright yellow dart, you didn't notice lo'ak slipping out of the marui pod. "c'mon," neteyam grabbed you.
"no way you're going out there, baby brother." neteyam said to lo'ak as you watched the brothers.
"i have to warn payakan about the sky people," lo'ak remarked.
"no, i've got to keep your skxawng (idiot) ass here."
you heard your mate sigh before he continued speaking.
"why do you always have to be so difficult?"
"no, you mean why can't i be the perfect little soldier like you?"
"lo'ak-" you intervened, the boys' gaze landing on you. you gave the younger boy a back-off look.
lo'ak scoffed at you, continuing his rant.
"i'm not you! he's my brother, i'm going." lo'ak's words were filled with rage.
"no, i'm your brother!" neteyam yelled at his brother, seeing him dive into the water.
"lo'ak! get back here you- ugh!" neteyam shouted in frustration.
"we must go after him!" neteyam announced as a few other metkayina people approached, named tsireya, ao'nung, and rotxo.
you jumped onto neteyam's ilu, holding tightly onto his lower waist as you sucked in your breath. the familiar twist of your stomach appeared, your heart thundering in your chest as you felt your mate grip your thigh.
as you all approached lo'ak, your eyes marveled at the massive creature that befriended lo'ak.
"help! he's been hit!" lo'ak shouted, all of you jumping onto the animal. you let out a gasp as the tulkun had a tracking dart on him, your eyes shifting up to see kiri and tuk approaching.
"y/n- what is happening?" tuk asked, holding onto your hand as you helped her onto the tulkun.
you turned around, seeing a ship approaching.
"neteyam!" you announced. everyone moved quickly as the ship continued to approach, lo'ak calling for backup to jake.
time moved too quick as the teens finally yanked the dart off payakan. "i will throw them off!"
neteyam took off on the ilu as you urged tuk and kiri onto one.
tuk held onto you, frightened by what was happening. none of you went very far as submarines were hot on your tail, splitting you all up.
you made sure to not lose tuk as you were struggling to hold your breath, not being prepared like your family was.
you soon found an air pocket, making sure tuk was with you as you sucked in deep breaths.
“i’m scared.” tuk admitted to you, her voice shaky.
“it is okay, i will get you back to neytiri and jake okay, i promise.” tuk nodded as tsireya swam into the air pocket with lo’ak.
“we have to get away,” tsireya said.
“we’re trapped.” lo’ak’s energy was full of frustration.
neteyam…
the voice once again whipped past your ear, making it falter.
“you three just need to escape, i will try to hold them off.” you told them.
nodding in agreement, you sucked in a deep breath as you swam in front of them. a force pushed you back, and you quickly realized that a net had caught tsireya and tuk.
you swam up to the surface, gasping for air as you called for your ikran.
the creature quickly scooped you up from the ocean water, your body dripping as you flew off to try and meet jake and neytiri.
your eyes narrowed as you saw another ikran approaching. “neytiri!” you shouted out.
she flew next to you, panic written on her face.
“they took tuk and lo’ak.”
she hissed in frustration, speaking to jake in their ear pieces. “you will keep watch for us.”
you didn’t argue with the mother, your mind too far gone into panic.
and as jake stood off with the sky people, your body slowly dried off from the sharp wind.
but when payakan leaped out of the water and took out people, you couldn’t help but notice your mate jump onto the ship.
the reef people and neytiri rushed into war, trying to give you all time to escape. you flew down next to the ship, jumping off to meet neteyam.
“y/n, get tuk and tsireya out of here!”
“girls go!” you barked the command, watching as they dove off safely.
neteyam hissed gently, mad you didn’t follow them. “together, remember?”
“we need to get spider!” lo’ak announced, taking off into the ship.
neteyam rushed after him, you quickly on their tail.
➽──────────────────❥
But I set fire to the rain
Watched it pour as I touched your face
Well, it burned while I cried
'Cause I heard it screaming out your name
Your name
neteyam…
you once again felt chills run down your body, your mate’s name being called out to you.
“ma neteyam,” you whispered. you didn’t get another chance to speak before the boys jumped down to fight off the sky people, protecting their friend, spider.
“okay, let us get out of here!”
a gunshot sounded next to your figures, making your already anxious heart worsen. neteyam pushed you all forward, urging you to get off the ship.
fire igniting from the inside of the ship, ash forming on all your bodies.
“give me this!” he took the gun from lo’ak, shooting off some sky people as spider and lo’ak dove into the ocean.
“y/n, go!” neteyam commanded.
you opened your mouth to speak, but your mate’s name was being chanted in your head.
neteyam… neteyam… neteyam… neteyam…
“y/n!” he shouted, pulling you out of your trance. you jumped into the ocean, feeling the wave of another body next to you.
your head was ringing as you kicked your feet to the surface, your stomach pain stopping as your heartbeat slowed.
you looked around for your mate, feeling as if the rushing time had now stopped.
➽──────────────────❥
I set fire to the rain
And I threw us into the flames
When it fell, something died
'Cause I knew that that was
The last time, the last time
“i’m shot,” he moaned out in pain.
the words rung in your head, making your vision fuzzy. tsireya called an ilu, all of them forcing neteyam on the animal.
you jumped onto the animal, the chant continuing as neteyam leaned onto you for support.
his blood seeped onto your breast as jake met you all on a rocky island, helping you grab your injured mate.
your body was numb from shock, seeing your mate bleed out as neytiri now joined you.
neteyam was gasping for breath as he grabbed your hand. you gripped onto him, now coming back to reality.
“ma neteyam-“ you choked out.
“i’m sorry,” he apologized to everyone.
you ran your hand against his forehead to his cheek, tears pouring from your darkened eyes.
“i cannot lose you, 'teyam.” you cried, staring into his once bright eyes that were now dull and lifeless.
“y/n- i-“ neteyam choked out, but his sentence was never finished as his grip loosened.
the familiar feeling of your heart dropping now returned, one you would never wish upon anyone.
and as his soul slipped away, the ringing stopped. there was no more chanting, nothing but silence.
and then neytiri began screaming from grief, jake trying to calm her down.
too overwhelmed with shock, you stared down at your mate. his once happy, bright, wise soul now with the great mother.
you hadn’t even noticed jake and neytiri left, the only noise that you processed is the sound of the waves hitting the rock. tsireya was crying with lo’ak, saddened over the loss of the mighty warrior.
you placed your mate’s hand on your chest, relishing in the moments you spent together.
flashbacks stuck in your head from the night he left you, the night you two shared just a few days ago.
your ears were downturned as tears fell onto his wrist, eyes closed as you tried to feel your mate.
“i can’t feel you-“ you sobbed quietly.
➽──────────────────❥
Sometimes I wake up by the door
That heart you caught must be waiting for you
Even now, when we're already over
I can't help myself from looking for you
the night of neteyam’s funeral you went to ronal for stomach pain.
the ceremony was beautiful, watching your mate have his energy be taken back by eywa. and while you were still in disbelief, you will never forget how the bright life engulfed him.
he was always so filled with light and joy, sharing it to others. he had the ability to cheer anyone up, and it made him adored by many.
and you will continue to keep that memory of him.
she was cleaning her home, her pregnant belly bulging as she came over and placed her finned hand directly on your stomach.
“you are pregnant.”
three years later
“zerok! be careful!” you laughed, chasing after your son.
you scooped him up in your arms, blowing against his belly as he giggled from your antics.
he wiggled out of your arms, continuing to run over to the beach. your son loved playing on the sand with the other kids, babbling with them as they played with nature.
you watched as your son approached a crying girl, cocking his head. he didn’t say anything, just began to hug her.
and when you realized the sight, tears began to build in your eyes. zerok looked identical to neteyam and you only hoped he would get his personality too.
you saw your deceased mate in zerok, a strong wave of emotion washing over you as you wiped the tears from your eyes.
that night, you took zerok to the spirit tree of the metkayina clan. you had resided there for the years as your mate was with their ancestors, not yours.
“ready, baby?” you smiled down at your son, helping him swim down to the tree.
you carefully connected his queue to the tree, following yours after. and as you closed your eyes, you felt like you were being sucked back.
your eyes opened, the sound of purring coming from a few feet away. the figure was hidden by brush as you cautiously pushed it away.
there, you saw neteyam. he was holding zerok in his arms, cradling him to sleep.
you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, scared that if you were to blink everything would disappear.
“there you are, i was beginning to worry about you.”
neteyam’s voice was gentle, a soft rasp hidden behind his vocal cords. he turned around, his face faltering once he saw you crying.
“why are you crying?” he asked, reaching his hand up to wipe away your tears.
“i just love my boys so much,” you said. pressing a kiss to zerok’s temple, neteyam leaned down to press his forehead to yours. you heard him sigh as he spoke.
“let’s go home.”
512 notes · View notes
wonderfulwonderrful · 6 months
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Season of Love (1/?)
+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal
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Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. (By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.)
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Dances With Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!
Bahrain
It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.
Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.
—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.
Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit. 
He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.
—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.
Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.
You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.
You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.
So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.
And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.
The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?
Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now. 
He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.
He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.
-
Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.
Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono. 
Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him. 
You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.
For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.
Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.
—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.
—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.
—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…
—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.
Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors. 
As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.
After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.
Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?
He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.
-
You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way. 
She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.
And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being. 
Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.
You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you. 
Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming! 
So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much. 
Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.
You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.
The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets. 
Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.
Oh, there he is.
-
Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."
The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way. 
—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?
—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.
—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.
—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.
—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."
Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.
—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.
—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.
—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.
—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.
They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.
—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.
—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.
—I'm busy.
—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!
—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.
—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.
Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.
Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.
-
It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him. 
And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.
—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.
—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.
—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.
You feel ready.
-
The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.
As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.
Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.
Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.
Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.
Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.
Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.
-
The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.
It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.
—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.
—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.
—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.
—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.
—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.
—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.
God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.
—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.
—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?
—Your thoughts.
—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to. 
—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?
Silence.
The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.
—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...
—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.
—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.
There is a pause and a big exhale from her. 
—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it. 
Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...
—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.
—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.
—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?
—I promise. I won't.
—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.
—Yes, this week. I will.
She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.
Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.
He falls asleep.
-
The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows. 
It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space. 
It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.
As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all. 
You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.
You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you. 
You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.
-
The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA. 
Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.
—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.
—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking. 
Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.
—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.
—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"
—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.
—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.
—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.
—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.
—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.
—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.
—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.
—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.
—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds. 
—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.
—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.
—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.
—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.
—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.
—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.
—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.
—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.
—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.
Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row. 
You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.
—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.
—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N 
—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.
Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.
—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.
—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.
—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.
Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks. 
Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.
—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.
—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.
Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.
A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.
Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."
You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus? 
And then the meeting begins.
The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!
The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes. 
—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.
—I have a genuine question!
—Why I don't believe you.
—Like why? You don't trust me?
—Oh, I do, but...
—But then... let me grab the mic.
Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.
—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.
—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.
—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.
What an icon.
The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.
You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?
—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.
With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.
As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.
-
Race day arrives. 
The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds. 
Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.
After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.
Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.
Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.
During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy. 
Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.
Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.
You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.
—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.
—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.
—I-I..
—I... I'm.
You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously. 
—Sor..ry-y.
—So-rry.
You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.
—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.
—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.
"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.
"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."
-
Australia
Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.
A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.
—Understood, boss.
You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.
Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over. 
Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.
—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.
He was insane for this.
—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.
—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.
—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.
—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back. 
You are going to get so many fines. So many.
-
You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.
—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.
—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.
—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.
—Nevermind. All ready?
—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans. 
She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.
—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.
—Is very you! —you answer.
—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.
—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.
—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.
—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.
—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.
—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.
Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."
—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.
—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.
—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.
Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.
—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.
—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.
—Oh god, and you just let us know now.
The three of you get on your feet real fast.
-
After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.
As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.
—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.
-
Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!
-
When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.
You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.
—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.
—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.
—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...
—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.
—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.
The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.
—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.
The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.
—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.
—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.
—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.
—Oh no, I'm not going.
—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!
—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?
—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.
—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.
—You look like Hagrid —he replies.
—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.
—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.
Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?
—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.
—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.
—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.
—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.
She interrupts you.
—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.
—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan. 
—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.
—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.
—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.
—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.
—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.
—No question!
—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.
—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.
—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.
Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.
To be continued... - Masterlist | Next Chapter
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