#but thanks for another good one - enjoyed this bestie

[harrysfolklore]

i see your face in every crowd - op81

summary: the asutralian grand prix is right around the corner and oscar's face is everywhere in melbourne, his ex girlfriend can't help but miss him (he misses her too)

folkie radio: if you know me you know i'm a sucker for an exes to lovers trope, and honestly this one is one of my faves i've ever done. ENJOY AND LEAVE FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by oliviarodrigo, lando and 2,107,399 others

yourinstagram back home for a bit... needed some time to reset & breathe. been writing loads lately - the songs are just pouring out 🌊 feeling more inspired than ever tbh. can't wait to share what i've been working on with u all soon. huge thank u for all the love lately, means more than u know xx

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username1 BABYYYY

username2 i'm happy she's home and surrounded by love

sabrinacarpenter miss ur face already 😭 these songs are about to end lives fr

chappellroan THEYRE NOT READY FOR WHAT'S COMING!!! also pls come back to LA soon i'm dying without u

username3 chappellynbrina is a forever thing

username4 the way melbourne gp is gonna be so awkward next month...

└ username1 why does everyone have to make everything about that 🙄 let them live

└ username2 no fr like can we focus on the music instead

username5 oscar ain't shit anyway, ur so much better without him queen

└ username3 y'all don't even know what happened, stop being toxic

└ username6 they literally both asked for privacy can u respect that maybe

alexandrasaintmleux being home suits u sm! can't wait for the new era

└ username2 once a wag always a wag

username7 THE BREAKUP ALBUM IS COMING AND IM HERE FOR IT

username8 take all the time u need but also pls drop a song soon we're starving 😩

lando yooo text me when you get the chance !

└ username1 THEIR FRIENDSHIP LIVES

└username2 oscar piastri you can't break this one

username9 some of y'all are being so mean for no reason, they were cute together and now they're not, it happens

username10 manifesting a collab with sabrina on this album 🕯️

liked by lando, alex_albon and 467,958 others

oscarpiastri Last few days of prep before heading home for the season opener. Ready 💪

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username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 we're so taking that wdc this year

lando looking a bit weak mate might need another few months of training

└ oscarpiastri stick to gaming mate

└ carlossainz55 Children, behave 😂

└ username1 THIS INTERACTION

username3 we're so back. man's entering his thirst trap era and we love to see it

└ username1 healing through gym pics, real

username4 the transformation from rookie to absolute unit we love to see it

username5 melbourne's gonna go crazy for him

└ username2 the city will be pretty much covered with his face

username7 the post-breakup glow >>>>>>

username8 bro said watch me get faster AND hotter

username9 yn is stronger than me bc i definitely would've given him another chance

georgerussell63 Looking strong 💪🏼

└ lando but still slower than me

└ oscarpiastri We'll see about that mate

└ username3 WHAT IS LANDO'S PROBLEM

aussiegp Our hometown hero getting ready to give us a show 🇦🇺

username10 YN GET BACK WITH HIM I BEGGG

liked by shortandbrina, livbedumb and 119 others

definitelynotyn not me stalking his instagram at 2am with a glass of rosé in hand... why he gotta post gym pics looking like THAT 😭 someone take my phone away fr because what if i do something stupid like text him rn???? also why does he have to look so good while training I HATE HIM

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shortandbrina girl DELETE instagram rn i'm not joking!! calling u in 2 mins

└ definitelynotyn too late i already watched his story 3 times help

midwestprincess this is why we don't drink wine alone bestie... coming over with ice cream and we're watching mean girls

└ definitelynotyn pls hurry before i do something stupid like listen to our playlist

livbedumb first rule of breakups: BLOCK THE GYM PROGRESS POSTS!!!! trust me on this one

└ definitelynotyn but what if i just want to check if he's doing okay 🥲

└ gracieeeeee she's lost it completely someone intervene

arithegood not me literally writing a song about this exact situation last week 💀 wine drunk stalking is universal bestie

└ definitelynotyn pls send me the song i just know it'll hurt so good

phoebenotbuffay okay but like... we've all been there 😭 remember when i almost texted #him after he decided to walk around in those short shorts

└ definitelynotyn at least urs wasn't wearing race suits that make his arms look like THAT

whostaylorswiftanyway time to write a song about it bestie x

└ definitelynotyn already got three verses and a bridge done ngl

liked by username1, username2 and 6,974 others

f1updates Melbourne is getting ready for the Australian GP! The city is covered in @/oscarpiastri billboards and posters as they prepare to welcome their home hero

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username1 imagine being yn trying to get coffee and boom there's your ex's face on a 50ft billboard 💀

username2 the way you literally can't escape his face anywhere in the cbd this week

username3 the way this gp would've been so different if they were still together... remember last year?

└ username1 they were the cutest in the paddock

└ username2 pls she probably won't even be in melbourne this year

username4 our boy is everywhere and we love to see it!!

username5 the promotional team really said oscar piastri world domination

username6 the billboards are giving everything they need to give tbh

username7 maybe she should drop the breakup album during race week for maximum chaos

└ username1 now that would be iconic behavior

└ username3 the way the charts and the podium would be fighting for his attention

username8 MELBOURNE IS OSCARLAND

username9 imagine not being an oscar fan rn… or worse, being his ex

username10 CAN SOMEBODY THINK OF OUR GIRL YN

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liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 597,388 others

oscarpiastri Seems like there's a few of me around Melbourne at the moment... has anyone noticed? 😅

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username1 OSCAR FUCKING PIASTRI

username2 HE DID NOT

lando bit of an upgrade for the city tbh └ oscarpiastri Better than your face mate

username3 OH HE'S MESSY FOR THIS ONE

└ username1 posting this RIGHT after her story i'm screaming

username4 he chose violence today and i'm here for it

mclaren Our guy's everywhere! Can't wait for the weekend 🧡

└ username2 admin pretending they don't see what's happening here

username5 THE TIMING OF THIS POST??? someone's feeling petty

username6 he really said "oh you can't escape me? let me show you why" 💀

georgerussell63 Just ran into your face in the airport

username7 the way he probably had these pics ready and WAITED

username8 bro saw her story and chose chaos

danielricciardo looking good mate! although i remember when it was my face everywhere 👴 └ oscarpiastri Times change old man

username9 it's giving "oh you miss seeing me? here's more" energy actually

username10 focusing on the important stuff: he looks good in every single billboard

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liked by harrystyles, sabrinacarpenter and 1,389,647 others

yourinstagram missing tour life so much today! can't wait to get back on the road and see all your beautiful faces again 💕 thankful for the memories we've made together x

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username1 MY GIRL I MISS HER

username2 the way she posted this exactly after THAT story... we see you

└ username3 damage control era

troyesivan SUPERSTAR 🤩🤩

username4 girl we know what (who) you're really missing

└ username2 not her trying to distract us 😭

username5 we're not fooled bestie but we support you

sabrinacarpenter miss you too angel!! ❤️

└ yourinstagram love you sabs 🥺

username6 NOT THE DAMAGE CONTROL POST

username7 WE NEED A TOUR ASAP

gracieabrams I miss being on the road with you 🥹🥹

username8 EVERYONE TALKIG ABOUT OSCAR HELP

username9 can we talk about how good she looked on tour though??

username10 the way she's probably sitting with sabrina rn planning damage control posts

└ username11 the group chat must be WILD right now

liked by midwestprincess, livbedumb and 109 others

definitelynotyn well. something just came in the mail and i think i might actually throw up. universe really said "you thought that instagram story wasn't enough embarrassment for one day?"

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shortnbrina GIRL CHECK YOUR TEXTS RN

└ definitelynotyn I'M HAVING A CRISIS

midwestprincess the way i SPRINTED here when you texted

└ definitelynotyn help what do i do

└ midwestprincess BREATHE FIRST

gracieeee wait is that what i think it is? 🏁

└ definitelynotyn 🙃🙃🙃

└ gracieeee OH MY GOD????

livbedumb the timing… someone's been plotting

└ definitelynotyn don't. i can't think about that.

maddiebeer okay but like… are you going?

└ definitelynotyn MADS PLS I'M ALREADY SPIRALING

└ maddiebeer that's not a no 👀

arithegood manifesting a rain delay so you have to stay longer

└ definitelynotyn I HAVEN'T EVEN DECIDED IF I'M GOING

└ arithegood sure jan

phoebenotbuffay imagine if you'd actually posted this on main too

└ definitelynotyn DON'T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT

└ phoebenotbuffay too soon? 😂

dulapeep at least you have time to plan outfits

└ definitelynotyn NOT HELPING

└ dulapeep the green dress. trust me.

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liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 665,583 others

oscarpiastri Close. Bring on tomorrow

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username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 oscar piastri man of few words

username3 pole position if he was still with yn

mclaren Our home champ 🧡

username4 OKAY CHAT DO WE THINK YN WILL ATTEND THE RACE??

└ username1 maybe focus on racing?? this isn't about his ex

lando sorry about that

└ oscarpiastri Should've just let me keep it

username5 can't help but think about yn in parc fermé for his win tomorrow but they're not together anymore

username6 HES WINNING TOMORROW THERE'S NOTHING THAT CAN CHANGE THAT

charles_leclerc An existential crisis later

└ carlossainz55 Let him breathe

└ username1 HUUUH WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT

username7 brb listening to yn's songs about him.. specially lover

liked by midwestprincess, shortandbrina and 107 others

definitelynotyn watching from my couch because apparently i'm the biggest coward in the universe. the pass is literally staring at me from my coffee table. i hate myself.

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shortnbrina GET IN YOUR CAR RIGHT NOW

└ definitelynotyn I CAN'T

└ shortnbrina YES YOU CAN I'M CALLING YOU AN UBER

midwestprincess GIRL THERE'S STILL 40 LAPS YOU CAN LITERALLY MAKE IT

└ definitelynotyn and then what?? walk in mid-race??

└ midwestprincess YES EXACTLY LIKE A MAIN CHARACTER WOULD

livbedumb not you watching his every move on tv when you could be there

└ definitelynotyn this is less scary ok

└ livbedumb is it though??

maddiebeer remember when you said you'd never be that girl who's too scared to face her feelings?

└ definitelynotyn low blow mads

whostaylorswiftanyway THE PASS IS RIGHT THERE GO GET YOUR MAN

└ definitelynotyn STOP YELLING AT ME

└ whostaylorswiftanyway NO

gracieeee remember when you said his note was the sweetest thing ever? remember crying about how much you missed him? but sure stay on your couch

└ definitelynotyn this is emotional manipulation

definitelynotyn FINE YALL WIN. CALLING A CAR RN

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liked by shortnbrina, landitooooo and 113 others

definitelynotyn we did some talking. then we did some kissing. then we did some more talking. then we did some more kissing. might have cried a bit (him too). wearing his sweatshirt again. life's funny sometimes.

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midwestprincess OH GOD FINALLY

gracieeee I'M SOBBING

leclercccccc FINALLY you accepted the follow request

└ definitelynotyn oh my god

└ leclercccccc i helped with the speech you know

└ notoscarpiastri mate.

└ leclercccccc you're welcome btw

landitooooo took you both long enough bloody hell

└ notoscarpiastri says you

└ landitooooo oi what's that supposed to mean

└ shortnbrina no idea really

└ definitelynotyn lando norris and sabrina carpenter... there's stuff you need to explain

arithegood THE TIMELINE HAS BEEN RESTORED

└ definitelynotyn dramatic much

└ arithegood says the girl who showed up mid-race

whostaylorswiftanyway I expect a full debrief tomorrow but I'm happy for you my girl

notoscarpiastri Can we go back to the kissing?

└ definitelynotyn please

liked by username1, username2 and 8,594 others

popbuzz YN AND OSCAR PIASTRI SPOTTED TOGETHER IN MELBOURNE

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username1 THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT

└ username2 SHE'S WEARING HIS CLOTHES AGAIN

username3 FROM SPINNING OUT TO BREAKFAST DATES IN 24 HOURS

└ username2 character development at its finest

username4 IM GOING TO CRY THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER

username5 Sources say he went to her place last night...

└ username1 and didn't leave 👀

username6 I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY REALLY GOT BACK TOGETHER

username7 this is proof that crying over your ex on main actually works

username8 YN IS A WAG AGAIN OMFG

username9 everybody say thank you australia gp billboards with oscar's face

username10 OSCAR LOVE SONGS ARE SO BACK

username11 WE WON SO HARD

liked by yourinstagram, lando and 876,494 others

oscarpiastri Home race took some unexpected turns both on and off track. P9 wasn't the result we wanted, but somehow still ended up winning this weekend.

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username1 HE'S SOOOO

username2 LOST THE RACE BUT GOT THE GIRL??

lando mate that's actually smooth

└ oscarpiastri Learned from the best

mclaren We'll take this kind of victory too 🧡

username3 THE THIRD PICTURE IM SOBBING

username4 mans really said forget p9 i got the girl

username5 HE'S SO BOYFRIEND WE'RE SO BACK

nicolepiastri ❤️

username6 OSCAR PIASTRI THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

username7 oscar's guide to get back with your ex with just ten simple steps

sabrinacarpenter FINALLY !!! OUR GIRL CAN STOP MOPING AROUND

└ chappellroan now we need oscar's friend to grow some balls too

└ oscarpiastri @/lando

└ lando well...

└ username1 OMFG LANDO AND SABRINA??

└ username2 WHAT JUST HAPPENED

username8 I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL LIFE

yourinstagram 🥺🥺 i love you

[spideyjimin]

Break my heart | jjk (teaser)

—  pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, kind of friends to enemies, and enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: jungkook, a mask, and a party. three things that made you weak enough to break all the rules of friendship. you did with him what you usually do with strangers… but he was never supposed to be a one-night stand. there’s too much history. too much comfort. and now, the aftermath of that wild and steamy night has made living with him unbearable, but also impossible to walk away. because you’re falling. fast. deep. and maybe deep enough to let each other break your own hearts.

—  words: 535 for the teaser

—  warnings: tension, flirting, strong language, and implied sex

—  author’s note: soooo i've already worked on this & i'm posting the little teaser to give you a little taste of what's coming 🫣 this is the college au i teased you about some time ago & i've been working on it for a little while, but i don't know when it's going to be released. this fics is inspired by many shows and movies i've watched lately (because i've done only that for the past 2 months 😫) i hope you'll enjoy it ❤️

— you can find another teaser here

— join the taglist ✨

“Will you be home at two?” you ask as he walks past you.  

“Why?” he says, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk like he couldn’t care less.

“Some guy is coming,” you answer, your eyes following his strong figure.

You watch his muscles flex as he reaches for a glass. It’s almost unfair how someone so infuriating can look that good. Buff. Strong. Dangerous in all the right ways. If he weren’t such an asshole, you might just let him ruin you again.

“Who?” he asks without looking at you.  

“Why do you want to know?” you counter, eyes glued on him.

He avoids your gaze, pouring the milk like the carton suddenly became fascinating.

“Because you’re the one talking about it,” he mumbles

A devious smirk grows on your face as you step closer—dangerously close now. He straightens up, facing you, eyes finally locking with yours.

“Are you looking for a guy?” you ask, cocking your head with a teasing grin.

“What?” his scowl is immediate, and you try as hard as possible to repress the smile growing on your face.  

You almost laugh at his expression. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to rile him up. But you hold it in. No cracks. Not yet. You're about to push him further. Annoying him is your new favorite pastime.

“I didn’t know you were gay,” you tease him.

Thank God he wasn’t drinking his milk. Otherwise, he would have choked. His brows draw together, clearly caught off guard.

“I’m not gay,” he says flatly, casually even, but his tone is clipped.

“Jungkook,” you shrug innocently. “You can be whoever you want. I support you, bestie.”

He rolls his eyes and drinks a sip of milk from the cup. Despite being annoyed, his heart skips a beat when you call him ‘bestie’. He hasn’t heard that nickname since that infamous night. You’ve called him jerk, asshole, idiot, stupid, fuckboy, dickhead, and many other things like that for the past three weeks.

“Why are you insisting?”

A little mustache of milk forms on his upper lip when he removes the cup. He looks absolutely adorable, like a little boy trapped in the body of a man who could destroy you with a single touch.

“Because I get it,” you smile. “I like men too.”

He wipes the milk mustache off with the back of his hand, but this time, the playful glint in his eyes disappears. He’s serious now.

“Stop it, yn,” his voice is sharp, like a warning. “You know I don’t like men.”

“Me?” you pretend to be innocent. “I don’t know anything. You’re very mysterious lately.”

Without a warning, he steps closer—your heart hammers in your chest with this sudden proximity. The air thickens between you, and you feel his hot and minty breath against your cheek. This reminds you of that wild night in the ballroom

“Yes, you do,” he whispers, voice dropping into something husky. His lips graze your ear. “And if you’ve forgotten, I can remind you.”

His fingers brush your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

“I can make you moan my name again…” he pauses for a split second. “Or scream it, if you’d prefer.”

[norrisainz33]

friend of a friend || MV33

☆ summary: max meets his dream girl through his friends good friend, pato o’ward

☆ pairing: max verstappen x mexican!reader

☆ fc & warnings: gala montes & poorly translated spanish and slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! thank you for requesting and apologies for the delay 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, redbullracing, schecoperez, charlesleclerc and 547,936 others

maxverstappen1: enjoying some much needed sun and relaxation before we head to vegas 😴

view all 999 comments

user1: max i’ll meow if you need another cat

user2: i’m sorry who in the heck is in the last slide

user4: is he soft launching rn??? at a time like this???

user6: so this is why he still looks happy despite rbr woes

user7: is that his girlfriend?!

user8: max please give us the tea

user9: f1gossip im begging you to figure out who this is

redbullracing: happy you’re getting some r&r max 🤍

ynuser: mi novio es tan bonito [my boyfriend is so pretty]

[liked by maxverstappen1]

user9: now hold up ….. who is this and why did max like

f1gossip: taking note of this interaction

user12: ugh she’s private so we can’t even snoop but she’s followed by pato and elba oward, carlos, rebecca, rbr and checo

user13: this is pato and elba’s childhood friend!!! she’s good friends with them

user12: everyone say thank you user13

user3: the shirtless photos?? the soft launch??? how am i supposed to be normal

charlesleclerc: 👀

user4: i’m gonna miss ur fine ass when i scroll

user5: sometimes you just gotta say damn and move on

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

[staying here forever]

view all story replies

yourbff: in monaco???? no gracias. you can’t leave me like that 😭

ynuser: yes monaco!! it is so beautiful 🥹

yourbff: you’re not just saying that because of a certain man?

ynuser: oh no i am saying that bc of a certain man 😮‍💨 he is a dream come true bestie

yourbff: ugh do elba and pato have any other hot millionaire friends they could set me up with???

ynuser: i’ll ask them im sure they do

yourbff: preferably one who’s name rhymes with pranko dolapinto

ynuser: HAHAHA mi amiga

carlossainz55: te gusta monaco? [you like monaco?]

ynuser: yes!! i love it. you, me, rebecca and max should grab dinner one night while im here!!

carlossainz55: i’d love that

maxverstappen1: you can always move 🤷🏻‍♂️

ynuser: maybe one day 🤔

elbaoward: my work here is done 🥹

ynuser: you are a magician. how’d you know we were perfect for each other?

elbaoward: bc i know my best friend 🤍

ynuser: te amo elba 🫶🏻

redbullracing: can’t wait to see you in vegas!

patriciooward has made a post

liked by ynuser, elbaoward, yourbff, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 321,345 others

patriciooward: gentle mornings with my hermanas

view all 223 comments

user12: oh max is in the likes 👀

ynuser: why do you insist on picking the worst photos

patriciooward: it’s my brand

elbaoward: 💁🏻‍♀️

maxverstappen1: send me the last pic

patriciooward: done!

ynuser: PATO wtf

user12: user13 you were right

user1: oh to have gentle mornings with pato 😭

user3: i love that he calls y/n his sister too

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, carlossainz55, iamrebeccad, patriciooward, and 313 others

ynuser: la vida últimamente [life lately]

view all 22 comments

yourbff: ugh the red hair suits you

ynuser: i agree 🥹

maxverstappen1: prettiest girl in the whole world

ynuser: mi amor 🥹 i love you 🤍

maxverstappen1: te amo

elbaoward: the spanish 😭🥹🩷

maxverstappen1: i’m working on it!

iamrebeccad: dinner last night was so fun. let’s do it again 🤍

ynuser: i’d love that!! see you in vegas darling

patriciooward: oh so you’ll post but not answer my texts

ynuser: yes exactly

friend1: hermosa chica [beautiful girl]

maxverstappen1 has posted to his story

view all story replies

user2: max emilian the man that you are

user4: screaming crying throwing up. i can’t believe he’s off the market

ynuser: my man my man my man 😍

maxverstappen1: that’s me baby

ynuser: thanks for inviting me to vegas with you

maxverstappen1: schjate you’re invited everywhere with me. i never want to be without you

ynuser: omg you big softie

charlesleclerc: oh she’s got you dressing up now too?

maxverstappen1: i want to look nice for my girl what can i say

charlesleclerc: oh he’s in love

maxverstappen1: 🤭 maybe

user5: i ! can’t believe you’re not wearing skinny jeans. the power she must have

schecoperez: i like this girl 😉

maxverstappen1: me too

user6: the emoji???????? max i’m speechless who are you

ynuser has added multiple stories 🔒

view all story replies

yourbff: god you’re gorgeous. have so much fun at the race baby

ynuser: thank you bebe. vegas is amazing - i am having the best time

yourbff: living vicariously through you 🥹

maxverstappen1: you have no business looking this good especially when there’s nothing i can do about it 😫

ynuser: win me the race and you can have me as a prize later 😉

maxverstappen1: you got it baby

elbaoward: are you in red bull hospitality??? come to mclaren i want to see youuuuu

ynuser: yes i’m in red bull but will cross enemy lines for you gorgeous

patriciooward: hermana donde estas? [sister where are you?]

ynuser: omw patito

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, yourbff, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7 and 7,234 others

f1gossip: in an interview earlier today max confirmed his relationship with, y/n y/l/n. y/n is childhood friends with elba and pato o’ward and it turns out that the siblings introduced max and y/n in miami earlier this season. the pair hit it off immediately according to max and “it was the closest thing to love at first sight he’d ever experienced.” she’s in attendance today at the grand prix! let us know if you get the chance to meet her and if there’s any further intel you get

view all 271 comments

user1: ohhhhh max 🥹

user2: this interview melted my heart. he looked so genuinely happy to be talking about her

user7: i love seeing him happy

user3: i’m obsessed with them already. perhaps my new favorite wag

user4: love at first sight???? i’m not crying! you are!!

user6: the way max also talked about trying to learn spanish for her because she’s mexican and how he’s also trying to teach her some of his language too 🥹😭

user8: this is the sweetest thing. that is true love idc what any of yall say

user5: i hope a love like this finds me one day

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, yourbff, schecoperez, alex_albon, patriciooward, and 645,123 others

maxverstappen1: vegas you were a fun one - thanks for having me and y/n/n!

view all 546 comments

user2: y/n/n 😭

user4: crying my eyes out

user6: yayyy maxie!!! glad to see you on the podium again

ynuser: te amo mucho vegas 🤍

maxverstappen1: and you te amo mucho me too right?

ynuser: omg yes maxie. i love you endlessly

user14: SIMP

user15: max asking for validation has done something to me.

charlesleclerc: great drive max!

patriciooward: take care of my girl ok?

maxverstappen1: you got it pato! no need to worry

redbullracing: our champion 💪🏻

user8: jealousy isn’t cute on me but here we are

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! reblogs, feedback and likes are very appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[hausofwoo]

swallow | park seonghwa

pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader

word count: 5.6K

this is part 2 of open wide! if you have not yet read part 1, i highly suggest reading it first.

summary: ever since that night, seonghwa has been avoiding you. but when new guy yunho starts at the restaurant, tensions rise until it reaches a breaking point.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender!seonghwa, server!reader, enemies to lovers trope, smoking (cigarette), alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all), dick slapping, biting, cumplay, oral (f receiving), face sitting, creampie, degrading, use of petnames (princess, baby), the passion is T H E R E, woosan allegations once again, feat. new guy!yunho, server/work bestie!ryujin, servers!wooyoung and san, restaurant manager!hongjoong.

author's note: i already intended on making a part 2 of open wide, and everyone's feedback was so sweet and helpful on part 1! thank u again to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers as always :-) plz enjoy ♡ ✧*

your eyes flutter open to the birds chirping outside. it’s way too fucking early to be awake right now. you feel yourself in a half-dream half-awake state, mind fuzzy and floaty. you turn your head to the side to see the man you spent the night with; the man who made you feel so good.

you rub your eyes a bit, attempting to wipe away the sleepiness. your vision adjusts, and you take a deeper look at him. seonghwa.

he really is beautiful. perfectly plump lips, long eyelashes, and there’s something about the way his nose is just a liiiiittle bit bumped at the bridge. even in his flaws you find beauty. you can’t resist gazing at him while he sleeps, his hair all messy in his face. why is it that he is so beautiful, yet the way he treats you is so far from that?

he shifts a bit, letting out a gentle sigh. your eyes begin to droop again, and you feel yourself drift off to the sound of his soft breathing.

when you wake, your bed feels cold. he left. you sit up slowly, stretching your arms up to ring out the exhaustion from your body. you look back at the empty spot next you.

it’s interesting that he left without a word, but you don’t know what to make out of it. before last night, you clearly couldn’t stand each other. you thought he was conceited and condescending. he was rude. and even during last night, his ego pooled over. but was the mere thought of missing him childish? you can’t help but to feel like there was something more to it. there was something on a deeper level that made you curious, therefore you wanted it back even more so. you started to feel like those girls from the movies; the ones where the girl becomes clingy after a one night stand. a cliché.

so what if he didn’t stay? it’s not like he actually felt anything for you. it was just a quick fuck. you probably were just another girl that he decided to throw a bone to. that’s what cocky men like him enjoy; just someone to string along and play with until he’s bored with them. you figured that time came sooner than you expected. well fuck him.

he hasn’t made eye contact with you once since you came in to work. you have the section right in front of the bar (thanks for nothing, hongjoong) so you have to just bear through it every time you pass him by. you prep your tables for service, wiping them down mindlessly.

you suppose there isn’t really a right way to go about this. sleeping with a coworker is a no-no, especially in restaurants. it gets messy (but it happens nonetheless). it’s not like you can go up to him and talk to him as if nothing happened. he didn’t exactly set you up for success either. he left without a word, and now you’re forced into the same space as him, clueless as to what to do. you decide to just ignore him unless absolutely necessary.

ryujin hops over next to you, a little too peppy for how you’re feeling.

“are you ready for a great service tonight?” ryujin says sarcastically, but with a grin.

“i want it to be over already,” you force out a dry chuckle, still half-assing the prep for your tables.

“the hell is wrong with you?” ryujin snorts.

“i’ll just—“ you start, but then realize you felt eyes burning into you. you look up the moment seonghwa’s gaze shifts, going back to wiping down the bar. “um, i’ll tell you later.”

“okay…” ryujin says, puzzled. she walks back to her section to prep.

your eyes are compelled to shift back up to seonghwa. at this point it just feels embarrassing to be wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he felt what you felt sunday night. your thoughts are interrupted by hongjoong approaching you with a tall man, someone new.

“this is yunho,” hongjoong says, almost presenting the man to you. “he’s going to be trailing you tonight. just show him the ropes and i’ll grab him once dinner service slows down.”

yunho steps forward, extending a hand to you. “it’s so nice to meet you!” he gives you a warm smile as you shake his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you too, yunho,” you say, surprised by the immediate kindness. this feels a lot nicer than how you’ve been treated before.

tuesday nights are usually slow, even during dinner service. you had a decent amount of tables, but nothing you couldn’t handle. and fortunately the new guy caught on really quickly, grabbing the drinks for your tables, clearing empty plates when needed… working with him was making your shift a breeze.

“you’ve worked in restaurants before, haven’t you?” you ask yunho. you refill a water jug for your table with him in the back.

“yeah, i have,” he says meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you can tell?”

“definitely,” you nod with a smile. “what happened at the last place?”

“the management,” he chuckles, and you knew exactly what he meant without any explanation. “don’t tell anyone, but i quit without notice.”

you fake a gasp, pretending to clutch your pearls. you let out a light-hearted laugh. “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

yunho gives a sweet smile to you, eye contact lingering a bit. you look down and realize the jug of water started overflowing and quickly move it away, letting out a humored yelp.

“oops,” he whispers, and you both giggle quietly to each other while wiping down the mess.

little did you know, seonghwa was entering the back to switch kegs for the beer on tap, and he walked in on your giggle-fest. he looks between the two of you momentarily as he continues to the back. you don’t even notice him until he passes. in a strange way, you can almost see annoyance radiating off of him. but maybe you’re making things up?

at the end of service, you finish closing all your tabs and count your tips at the bar with ryujin and wooyoung. yunho was in the back with hongjoong, debriefing the shift. you assumed seonghwa was in the back too, but you pushed away the curiosity.

“what a slow night,” ryujin sighs. she holds up her measly few bills and fakes a cry.

“how was training the new guy?” wooyoung inquires, packing his things.

“it was really good,” you can’t help but smile a little too big. your face drops when seonghwa walks back out to the bar, carrying a pack of beer to restock. you swear he steals a glance at you before kneeling down to refill the low-boys.

“speak of the devil!” ryujin grins, with all of you shifting your view to see yunho walking to the bar with an apron in hand.

“i think you guys might be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, fake-cockily. the three of you congratulate him, all while seonghwa minds to himself.

“when’s your next shift then?” you ask.

“hongjoong said i’ll train the rest of the week, and then my first day live is sunday,” he says, throwing his bag on his shoulder.

“you know what that means…” wooyoung voices mischievously.

“uhhh, what does that mean?” yunho utters, a curious expression on his face.

“sunday celebration!” ryujin throws her hands up in excitement.

“what the hell is sunday celebration?” yunho laughs.

“basically,” ryujin starts, “it’s where we all go out after our shift to a dive bar nearby and drink away our sorrows. but this time we can drink in ACTUAL celebration!”

“i could be down for that,” yunho says. he looks directly to you. “will i see you there?”

your lips part to answer, but your ears are punctured by glass shattering, and the sound of beer fizzing on the floor. your head snaps over to see seonghwa grumbling and picking up the pieces.

“party foul!” wooyoung says jokingly, but then was met with seonghwa’s glare. “kidding…”

you stand from the bar stool and gather your things, taking the cue to leave. “i’m gonna head out. yunho, see you tomorrow?”

“yup,” he says, holding back a smile. “i’ll see you then.”

you turn to walk to the door, feeling eyes like daggers piercing your back.

seonghwa is messing up a lot lately. which is very unlike him, being that he’s a perfectionist. you rang up an order of drinks for your tables, and yeah it was quite a few drinks, but you had never seen him mistake a gin martini for a vodka martini. you approach the drink pass with the misfired drink, setting it down.

“seonghwa,” you call to him, pointing at the drink. “i need a gin martini.”

“that IS a gin martini,” he says flatly, filling a beer from the tap. so sure of himself.

“no,” you insist. “this is vodka.”

he approaches the pass, setting down the beer with its appropriate ticket. he plucks a cocktail straw to do a straw taste of the drink. but with the sip, he wasn’t remotely shaken. he just tosses the liquid in the sink, remaking it without a word.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” he says while stirring the beverage.

“are you gonna make it right this time?” you snap.

he places the drink on the pass, clearly pissed off. he slams the ticket next to the drink and glares at you, almost too close. you feel the huffs of his irritated breaths fanning your face, and for the first time since that night, you really look at each other. but all that was tangible in the air was anger.

“run your drink, princess.” he enunciates your nickname, packing a punch.

after finishing your closing duties, you’re ready to leave and put this shift behind you. you wave goodbye to your coworkers and start heading out the back door, it being held open by a loose brick. just as your feet hit the pavement of the alley, you hear your name being called behind you.

“wait!” you turn to yunho calling after you, and stopping in the doorway. “you leaving?”

“oh, uh, yeah,” you say, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “i got all my side work done so i’m heading home.”

“oh, okay,” he says shyly, obviously with a second thought on his mind.

you look at each other for a moment, but not out of awkwardness, just with a peculiar feeling of enticement.

“so um, how was training with wooyoung today?” you ask.

“oh yeah,” yunho laughs. “it was good. he’s really funny with his tables.”

“yeah, that guy’s definitely a yapper,” you both giggle to each other in amusement.

“sooo… you’re walking home?” he asks, leaning on the frame of the door.

“i usually walk home, i don’t live that far,” you explain.

“me too! maybe i can walk you—“ yunho gets cut off by seonghwa barging into the doorway.

“can i borrow her for a sec?” seonghwa says, barely making it a question.

yunho hesitantly nods, “yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you later?” he says to you, giving you a small wave.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow yunho,” you force a smile, with a pleading HELP ME written behind your eyes.

seonghwa leads you to the walk in, slamming the door behind him. he hovers over you and you can literally see the heat fuming off of him.

“what do you want, seonghwa?” you ask bluntly, trying your best not to sound intimidated.

“we need to talk,” he growls at you, stepping forward, forcing you to press up against the wall behind you.

“about what?” you quip with a begging tone. is this really the time to talk about it?

your eyes bore into each other, faces inches apart. his snarl nearly dissipates when he rips his eyes away from yours for a moment to glance at your lips. you blink up at him in temptation. you can feel the tension in the air, wondering if it was contempt or all encompassing desire. perhaps it was both.

“th–that shit you pulled earlier, don’t do it again,” seonghwa hesitantly lets out, nearly losing his composure.

“what, when you fucked up my drink order?” you ask.

“when you grilled me in the middle of service,” he defends.

“for fucking up, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “doesn’t feel nice to be scolded for your mistakes, does it?”

he glares at you for a beat, clearly unsure how to dig himself out of this hole. a hole that he dug. as if he snapped out of a trance, he steps back slightly. he clenches his jaw, and in a swift motion, withdraws from the walk-in. you’re left alone, still pressed up against the icy wall. a rolling cloud escapes your lips, making you realize you had been holding your breath.

it felt like sunday night didn’t come soon enough. this weekend was busier than usual, so all the running around on top of the rigidity of seonghwa was making you go mad. it’s difficult to avoid someone you hate when you have to retrieve drink orders from him all day. luckily, he just reserved to himself and you followed suit.

throwing your bag onto the bar, you slump into the bar seat at the end of the night.

“here,” hongjoong passes a shift beer to each of the servers at the bar, including you. “you guys need these after this weekend.”

you give a thank you while cracking it open, taking a big gulp. you let out a big sigh of relief.

“you’re right, hongjoong,” you say blissfully. “i did need this.”

ryujin snickers next to you, nudging your shoulder. “there will be plenty more at sunday celebration, don’t you worry.”

“speaking of,” san says, grabbing the shoulders of yunho. “congrats on your first live shift, yunho!”

“yeah, how was it?” you ask. you can’t help but smile at the beaming man.

“it went…” yunho starts, pausing for effect. “swimmingly.”

“sounds like a cause for celebration!” ryujin sing-songs, raising her beer in salute.

you all raise your glasses, short one person of course: seonghwa, who was mopping down the bar floor. after a hefty drink, wooyoung crushes his can first and tosses it in the trash.

“let’s start celebrating, sannie,” wooyoung says, throwing his arm over san’s shoulder. (seriously, what the hell is going on there?)

san and wooyoung book it out the door and ryujin follows soon after, finishing her beer and beckoning you to join.

“almost done, you go ahead!” you encourage, packing up your things hap-hazardly with one hand and chugging your beer with the other.

“shit, you guys drink fast,” yunho says, swishing his beer around to hear how much he has left. with a laugh he says, “wish i could just take this to go.”

“i won’t tell,” you whisper to him, grabbing him to join you. “walk with me?”

“okay,” yunho smiles, almost looking like he had stars in his eyes.

you two waltz out the door, leaving seonghwa at the bar cleaning alone. and with your eyes finally averted away, he can finally have no shame in watching you intently out the window. he is so fucked.

“here’s to yunho!” mingi hosts the cheers, with everyone raising their glasses, clinking them together and collectively taking a drink.

“guys,” yunho says with his face still contorted from the liquor. “thank you so much. you’ve all been so welcoming!”

“of course, you’re part of the fam now!” san smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders.

everyone takes their respective seats and mingle amongst each other, all while taking more shots and drinking more beer. you, of course, were sat with ryujin and wooyoung talking about the latest work drama.

“have you guys noticed something different about seonghwa lately?” wooyoung asks. “like when he broke that beer the other night? i swear, the whole year i’ve worked here i’ve never seen him break a thing.”

“dude, yes,” ryujin says, leaning in. “he fucked up a couple of my drink orders today. so weird.”

“he’s definitely been in a bad mood lately,” you mumble, holding back from telling your secret.

“yeah, more than usual,” ryujin rolls her eyes. “he probably just needs to get laid.”

you choke back a bit on your drink, taken off guard by the comment. you realize the problem is not that he needs to get laid, but that he did get laid. and now he’s being tortured by seeing the poor girl at work every day. why did he have to sleep with you when you know he feels nothing but disdain for you? are you just a toy to him? you begin to feel dizzy, partly from the alcohol, but also from the thoughts spinning in your head.

“you okay?” wooyoung asks you, handing you a water. you nod and take the drink from him, but his eyes are quickly diverted to the bar. “oh shit, seonghwa is here.”

“what?” ryujin tries her best to look subtly. “do you think our shit-talking manifested him?”

“i don’t know,” you huff, trying to figure out a way to avoid him. “but i’m gonna go sit on the patio.”

“there’s a patio?” yunho chimes in, hearing the last bit. “can i join?”

you smile and nod, leading him back. this will be a good distraction.

“so…” you start, leaning against the wooden patio covering. “how do you like it here? at the restaurant, i mean.”

“it’s definitely different,” yunho laughs. he leans on the covering next to you. “everyone is super nice, the food is good… and it’s nice to work for a local business. the management seems to really care about the employees.”

“definitely, hongjoong is great manager.” you nod to him.

“it’s actually crazy,” yunho starts. “i’ve never seen so many attractive people all working in one place before.”

“what, like ryujin? or wooyoung? or san?” you giggle, realizing he was right. you do have a LOT of hot coworkers.

“well, sure,” yunho says shyly. “but no, i meant you.”

“oh,” you say, caught off guard. you suddenly feel a lot more drunk. you look up at him momentarily, him leaning closer to you.

if someone else saw this body language from an outside perspective, they’d think that he looks like he wants to kiss you. and so what if he did? would it be the worst thing in the world to entertain this, even after your mess with seonghwa?

yunho leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, quick but sweet. when he pulls away, you’re left looking at him with an unreadable expression, but in your mind, you were reeling.

there was something… missing. and it irritated the fuck out of you. yunho did give you butterflies, but you wonder if it’s just because it feels nice to have attention on you. especially from someone that’s actually kind and seems like he actually wants to get to know you. but in your crazy toxic head, you realize what was missing. passion.

“i-i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have done that,” yunho says, touching his fingertips on his lips.

“no, no,” you say, grabbing his arm. “it’s okay.”

before yunho can get out a word, the back door shuts with seonghwa walking out, witnessing the scene. you can’t resist stepping back slightly from yunho, as if it’s not too late to be caught. he looks between you and seonghwa, adding two and two together just from the tension alone.

“i think i’m gonna head back inside,” yunho says, rubbing the back of his neck. “sorry, again.”

“yunho, wait,” you call after him, but he already shuts the door behind him.

“let him leave,” seonghwa commands, leaning against the wall.

“what are you even doing here, seonghwa?” you ask, already putting your guard up.

“the fuck are you doing with the new guy?” he says, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match. of course he’s one of those pretentious dudes that uses a fucking match to light a cig.

“since when do you smoke?” you say, desperately trying to change the subject.

“i don’t,” he says casually, blowing a cloud into the air. “just been stressed lately.”

“i can tell,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “it’s like you forgot how to bartend.”

“it’s not just work,” he says, brushing off the insult you threw at him. “it’s also you.”

“what about me?” you basically refuse, shaking your head. “i’ve been doing exactly what you want me to do. i don’t talk to you, i don’t look at you. i pretty much avoid you at all costs. you’re off the hook, seonghwa. you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

“who says that’s what i wanted?” seonghwa says, finally looking directly to you.

“you didn’t have to say it,” you spit at him, forcing him silent.

the air feels heavy. seonghwa struggles to find words for what he wanted to say. he looks down again, ashing his half-smoked cigarette. the back door opens to wooyoung and san following after him, both opting to sit in the patio chairs in the corner. they continue their conversation, and seonghwa looks to you.

“we should talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning to your coworkers. he’s already grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“why, so you can keep being an asshole to me without an audience?” you say.

“because i want to finish what we started,” he mumbles, walking out of the patio and to the back parking lot.

you try your best to resist, but curiosity overcame you as you follow.

after a short but tense drive, you arrive at what seems to be seonghwa’s apartment. he shuts the engine off and jumps out of his car. you slowly try to register what the hell is happening, unbuckling and hopping out. seonghwa doesn’t look back you, he just continues walking, knowing you’re trailing after him. he unlocks his front door, letting both of you in. he closes the door behind you, watching you examine your surroundings.

“this is exactly how i imagined your place,” you say, almost to yourself.

“you’ve been imagining my apartment?” he smirks.

“yeah,” you scoff. “it’s just as cold and rigid as you.”

“thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.

“so now what?” you say expectantly. “you bring me back here yell at me? make me cry?”

“there’s only one scenario i want of you crying,” he says, stepping closer to where he’s leaning over you. you suddenly feel stone-cold sober.

“and what’s that?” you say, tongue in your cheek, pretending not to know exactly what’s about to happen. and pretending you don’t want it so bad.

seonghwa grabs your cheek, beckoning your face closer to his. his eyes bore into yours, before landing down to your lips. not holding back anymore, he presses his lips onto yours with purpose. your lips meld into his, placing your hands on his chest. your kiss deepens in fervor, as if the hunger completely took over both of you. soon enough, you’re moving together towards his bedroom, clothes and inhibitions shedding along the way.

you fall back onto the bed with seonghwa standing over you. he takes off his belt while looking down at you with a look that can only be described as burning desire. once he discards his pants, he slowly runs his fingers across your panty-clad core. you’re embarrassed by how fucking wet you are already, slightly closing your legs around him.

“no no, princess,” he smirks down at you, licking his lips. “keep them open for me.”

you do as your told, letting him push your underwear to the side and feeling the wetness between your folds. he gathers some of your slick and brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring it.

“fuck,” he tilts his head up as he groans, unintentionally bucking his hips against the edge of the bed. “you taste so fucking good.”

with one hand gripping your thigh, the other hand dips back to your heat to slowly insert his middle finger in you. he lets you adjust momentarily before sliding in his ring finger, curling them both. he thrusts in and out, all while watching you squirm under his touch. he just watches in awe, mouth hanging open as he fixates on your pussy enveloping his digits, coating them with your essence. he releases the hand on your thigh to palm himself at the sight. he twitches in his underwear, precum soaking through at the tip.

as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he withdraws his fingers from inside you and rips your underwear, completely tearing the fabric to have more access to you. he tugs his bottoms down to release his aching cockhead, the tip leaking in a long drip onto you. he guides his member down the length of your core to gather your juices and stimulating your clit all the while.

with an elongated hiss, he enters you slowly. you’re taking every inch of him, pulsating around him. you moan with him as he starts rolling his hips into you. you can feel his head hitting every inch of your walls, the pressure making you moan in sweet agony. your sounds ring in his ears, savoring the whimpers you let out just for him. this quickens his pace, still driving into you with cadence.

he’s literally fucking you into the mattress, splitting you open with vigor. you find it impossible to keep from tightening around him in pleasure, and he loses a bit of his rhythm. he pulls out of you completely.

“you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he says between exasperated breaths. he holds his length above you, slapping it onto your core. he bites his lip to hold back a groan before grabbing your waist to switch positions.

he sits up on the bed and places you on top of him. he holds your waist as he guides you down onto his cock. he examines every inch of your face, reveling at the way it contorts at the feeling of him entering you. once you adjust to him again, you start moving. you ride him, throwing your head back. seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss and bite at the expanse of your neck. he moans as he begins thrusting upwards in tandem with you. he’s hitting all the right spots, and your bodies move together like a dance.

the moans you let out are uncontrollable, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. it feels like no one’s ever made you feel this way, feel this good. and maybe it’s true; maybe no one has ever awakened this primal, animalistic desire within you. it feels addictive, and you could not get enough. you pull him closer, yearning to feel every inch of his glistening body against yours, desperate for your forms to meld together in an all-encompassing embrace.

he crashes his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, a surge of passion pouring through and intensifying with every passing second. he reaches his hand down to toy with your clit, forcing you off his lips to let out a wanton moan. you core clenches around his length and a wave of stimulation transcends your body.

“cum with me, baby,” seonghwa lets out softly, continuing to thrust into you and toying with your clit.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, all while seonghwa’s eyes devour every inch of you, mesmerized by the sounds of your moans, the sweat trickling down your neck. each movement and touch sends shivers down his spine, solidifying his obsession with you. he wishes with every fiber of his being he could immortalize this sight in his mind forever. he is absolutely captivated by you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before resting his hand just below the side of your face.

his jaw goes slack when your core clenches erratically around him, drinking up this view as you completely come undone on his cock. he continues to piston into you until he follows immediately after, no longer holding back his moans of euphoria.

as your hips both begin to slow to a stop, seonghwa pulls you off of him, eyes still full of unrelenting lust.

“get on top of me,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face. “i want to taste myself in you.”

his hands grip your thighs as he guides your folds to his eager mouth. as soon as your core meets his tongue, a moan escapes his lips. his seed is still spilling out of you, and he licks up every drop with determination. your hips are still above him, hesitant to put your full weight on him.

“i need you sit on my face,” he says between licks. “i want you to fucking suffocate me.”

his hands on your thighs urge you down, letting you become fully seated on his mouth. he devours you, exploring every inch of you. you rock your hips against his tongue, each motion intensifying your pleasure. his hands encourage you to move faster, to take what you want from him. he separates from your core briefly to groan.

“baby, fuck my tongue,” he commands, attaching back onto you, granting you full access to his mouth.

you let his tongue slide into you and thrust onto it, all while his nose bumps at your clit. you feel the tension building in your stomach once again. the overstimulation sends you spiraling, hips continuing to grind onto his hungry tongue. you see his eyebrows knitting together in bliss, the vibrations of his insistent moans sending a pang throughout your body.

“seonghwa, p-please,” you beg, as if you weren’t the one on top of him, fucking his mouth. his dominance overtook you in every way, no matter what position. “i’m going to cum.”

he nods as if he’s saying, ‘yes, please cum on my face, please let me feel you,’ but is stifled by the grinding of your hips. he flattens his tongue so you can thrust your folds on him, and he’s smirking with lust behind his eyes. you let out a cry in pure bliss, your core contracting and spilling your essence onto his lips. he swallows every drop before latching his mouth back onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm. your movements slow down, and you let out a satisfied moan.

you fall off of him, positioning to rest your head on his chest. the waves of pleasure start to subside, and the only thing that can be heard in the silent air was the synchronization of your heartbeats. then reality hits you.

“seonghwa,” you say quietly. “what are we doing? why are we doing this?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. he struggles to find the right words. “i just… i don’t think i want this to stop.”

you lift your head up, almost thinking it’s a joke. but when you look into his eyes, you can tell he’s being genuine.

“but… but you hate me,” you say.

“i could never hate you,” he urges. he places his hand on your cheek, stroking softly.

you want so badly to believe him, to trust the softness in his eyes. but a voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is temporary, this isn’t real for him, and urges you to not fall for this trap. your mind plays over the past few weeks of turmoil between you. you recall every harsh word, every cold stare, and wonder if this moment of tenderness can truly outweigh all of that pain. is it worth risking your heart again?

“then i need you to explain yourself,” you say, pushing his hand away. “tell me why you’ve been like this with me.”

he sits up, taking a deep breath. “i’ve been so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head. “i think all these years of working at a restaurant kind of roughed me up. i think i built these walls to try and prove myself in the industry, to prove something to myself. and it made me become someone i don’t even like.”

he meets your gaze, seeing your anticipation for him to continue.

“and then i met you, and i still had these walls. i walked all over you and made you feel like shit. and what’s so fucked up about it is that despite that, i actually started to like you,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “i was scared. i’m still scared.”

you never expected him to be this vulnerable with you, let alone confess his feelings for you. you sit up and kiss him softly, intimately.

in that moment, the barriers between you begin to crumble. it’s not going to be easy, but for the first time, you find yourself on the same page.

“i don’t know what comes next,” you say softly. “but we can be scared together.”

a/n: guys i am so proud of this one! i hope i successfully portrayed the intensity between them. shit got my heart racing personally. again, im new to writing fics so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank u sooooo much ♡

edit: sadly there will be no part 3, but i will be releasing something new within the next week or so, so stay tuned 🫶🏻

✰taglist✰ @trinityhasjams @mxnsxngie @sooberryworld @mingtinysworld @spenceatiny18

[eureka-its-zico]

Residuals Pt 3

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.

Pairing: Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader

Genre: Established previous relationship, slight age gap (by about 15 years give or take), a little bit of tension mixed in with a little bit of hate yearning, cause she’s a saucy angsty fic ok

A/N: Screaming at the top of my lungs because you have all been so incredibly lovely and sweet. I appreciate every single one of your comments, reblogs, and your excitement over this spur-of-the-moment series idea. Honestly, I can gush forever. Thank you! This chapter is centered around a little extra backstory on their relationship (briefly). I noticed it's around ep. 4 when everything starts popping off in the show (and I have scenes already pre-written cause I’m excited!) so I hope the story stays entertaining and true to showing slow insights into characters, their flaws, and being human. As always, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter. Much Love. Jenn

Thank you to the bestie @viridian-dagger for humoring me and checking all of my work. Thank you for helping keep me sane.

Words: 7208

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You remembered with agonizing clarity the last day you’d seen Robby. You could recall down to the very marrow of the hour how you’d watched him grab his backpack and head out the door. 

If you weren't careful, your subconscious loved to dredge that particular memory up in frequent rotation. 

If you weren’t careful, always on mental high alert, the memories came violently to the forefront demanding that you remember what it felt like to walk the halls of your home in nothing but his shirts. It had you up late in the middle of the night writing a list of all the achingly obvious differences between the empty bed you now slept in and the one you’d shared with him. How his large frame curled against your back or how his nose pressed into the crook of your neck before he woke you, trailing kisses down your collarbone. 

Sometimes, Robby held you so tight you’d jokingly ask if he was trying to morph together like The Thing. 

You’d gotten used to the quiet in your home. The lack of security knowing another person was there. You’d learned to portion down your meals, so you didn’t make some on accident for two, or three when Jake was home for the week. You did laundry less and didn’t have to fold as much. There was no one to help you build furniture or tear it down. The trash was handled by you and only you. Dishes sat questionably for longer in the sink than they should’ve. There were no hands on your hips to keep you steady as you demanded to be an independent woman and use the step ladder to change broken fixtures and lightbulbs. No car rides with blues gently playing through the speakers with his hand on your thigh. 

No. You were reminded every minute of every day since you’d left of what you lost. What you chose to leave behind.

The day you left you’d waited in the hall. In the past, before the pandemic, before the world went to shit and stopped making sense, Robby waited for you to send him off. You’d bring him his backpack full of protein bars, a homemade sub sandwich (if he ever got to it), and instant coffee packets when he didn’t. The moment you were close enough for him to grab - to touch - Robby would reach for you. 

Before Robby, you didn’t know what it felt like to be worshipped; to be craved and wanted so badly that they couldn’t wait for the moment they could touch you. The safety of trusting someone because they loved you without pretense allows you to be comfortable enough to be good, bad, weird, and everything in between. 

“You’re my favorite person.” He’d told you this randomly, while you’d both been curled up on the couch. Your cheek pressed against his chest. You heard the slight change in rhythm before he spoke. It was an answer to a question you’d asked weeks ago. One he refused to answer because “What are we in junior high?” 

You didn’t believe in fairytales or the idea of perfect relationships. You believed in what someone’s actions said about them when they tried to cover them up with words. You didn’t know what it was like to have someone choose you, all of you, until Robby. 

Whenever he had the chance, Robby was always touching you - light traces of fingers that drew aimless doodles in your skin while he read. His hand glided across your back as he passed you in the kitchen or the hallways at work. Once Robby learned how much you loved having his hands on you, he found ways to use them all the time - in ways that made you feel secure and others that were far from innocent. 

But out of everything, Robby always made sure you were taken care of and, most of all, loved. 

Usually, when Robby departed from the house, he used his large frame to crowd into your space. Possessive hands snaked around your waist to pull you flush against him. Every time, like clockwork, you eagerly respond to his touch. Your neck already falling back just enough for his mouth to slate over yours.

Those memories of better days, days where you didn’t have to question if he still loved you, are what made the last day so hard. You stood there, silently hoping that he would turn around. That Robby would just stop putting in his air pods, looking everywhere but at you, and finally acknowledge you. You didn’t want your last fight to be what you remembered - the words you’d hurled at one another with tired vehemence the final thing you heard. 

You just wanted him to love you like he used to. But the problem was, you weren’t sure if you could love him how you used to anymore either. 

“I think you should take Kiara up on her offer, Michael. You need to speak with someone even if it isn’t her.”

“Jesus,” he huffed. A hand scrubbed at his face before latching behind his head. His eyes screwed tight as if he could simply blink the conversation away. “Here we fucking go again.”

“Yes, here we go again. We wouldn't have to keep doing this merry-go-round around the issue if you would just admit - “

“Admit what?” His voice rose in challenge, and it took every ounce of you not to return it. “You seem to want me to say I’m broken so you don’t have to be the only one.”

“That’s bullshit,” you scoffed, pushing your dinner plate further down the table. 

You weren’t hungry anymore.

“It’s not bullshit! I’m not the only one in this room who won’t be honest with themselves.”

“That’s real rich coming from you, Michael. If you think that’s true, look me in my eyes and admit you don’t feel some type of way since he passed. And I never once fucking said that you were broken - “

“That’s the point! You don’t have to. I can see it in the way you look at me. The way you talk to me. It’s like no matter what the fuck I say you don’t believe me. You just want me to be depressed like - “

“Like what, Michael.”

The room went glacial cold. Your eyes turned to slits as you waited for him to finish his sentence. A piece of you prayed he didn’t because you didn’t know how much more you could take before you finally broke. 

“Like you,” he sighed, voice defeated as if he hated saying it as much as you hated hearing it. “You haven’t been the same since -”

“Shut up.”

“- it happened and I’m sorry. I - I wish I’d been there - “

“I said shut up! Jesus, just stop talking!” 

The venom in your voice was toxic. It had your arm lashing out and shoving the plate of food off the table. The sound of tableware clattering and glass breaking dimmed the flash of anger enough to be embarrassed at your outburst. You hadn’t meant to do it. Just like you hadn’t meant to do a lot of things since Adamson passed, since the pandemic, and…since you received the news. 

It was written plainly in the silence held between you. The unspoken depression from two different spectrums left you both unable to help the other. Neither of you knew how to bridge the gap your stubbornness bred.

Doctors were historically the worst patients because of that very reason. Pride. You used to believe Robby and you didn’t share an ounce of it between you, but you’d been wrong. You forgot you were both human and flawed.   

“I just want to help you, Michael. Please. Ever since Adamson passed and - and what happened - “

“He doesn’t have anything to do with what happened! What happened fucking happened because it’s nature. It’s - it just wasn’t our time. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up for something you have no control over. How many times have we told our patients this?” Robby looked up from his hands and you wished he hadn’t. His watery eyes were close to spilling; the tsunami of pain was all-consuming and when he whispered your name before he spoke again, you wanted to shatter. “You’re killing yourself from the inside out with this self-hatred.”

How many times have you been told that exact thing? It was an unfortunate natural process. It just ‘happened’. Every word is sterile and scientific which makes you feel less and less like a person. And what about the news that came after? Was that natural too? 

Maybe you were the one who was broken.

“Adamson happened too, and you haven’t been the same since we lost him. You’re on edge more, Mike. You snap at work and home. You’re closed off. You’re so desperate to put it under the rug that we only focus on me? Bring up my faults so we can bury yours.”

A sneer pulled up his lips as he turned away from you. His eyes scan over the shelves and furniture in the room - looking everywhere but at you. 

“You just want to help me? That’s what you keep feeding yourself but in reality, you just want me to be who I was before this. I don’t know if I can be that man again and when I tell you that, you act like a fucking child going around slamming doors.” Shame flushed up your face, turning your cheeks red with embarrassment. You’d done that and worse. You thought you could wait whatever this was out until it got better. But it wasn’t better. It was worse and you were so, so tired. “You want to focus on me but what about you?”

“You aren’t the only one hurting - that lost someone. You left me! You fucking left me to deal with it all on my own. Where the fuck were you when I needed you?”

“I’ve been right here with you!” Robby shouted back. “I’m right here with you, baby, but you don’t fucking see it. You won’t let me in.”

The tears you struggled to contain escaped in one shaky exhale. You carried around so much of your shame and guilt - tried repairing the cracks with quick fixes so Robby wouldn’t see because the last thing you wanted was pity. You didn’t want the confirmation that you were irreparably broken. 

“But you’re not here. Are you? Not really.” 

The earlier flash of rage was extinguished with each word. This job was a marvel and a curse. It took and took without forgiveness. Sometimes you’re fighting to save people who don’t want to be saved; who’ve never known the support and love they needed to believe they were more than their demons. Who wanted to succumb to a brief drop of loneliness in the ocean of a lifetime. Or you saw the ugliness that people did to one another and left you having an existential crisis if someone’s bad choice made their life unworthy of saving. 

Robby dealt with all of these things daily. He shouldered them for every friend in the hospital. For every patient who needed the strength of his resolve and the care he delivered. He gave all that and more during the pandemic and now he’d given so much that there wasn’t much left to tend to himself. 

Robby used to lean on you for just about everything. Sometimes, your talks were gradual - opening up little by little until everything was exposed. Other times, they came in bursts. A rush of words said too fast because if neither of you just ripped the band-aid off and said it, nothing would ever get fixed. Now all of that came to a screeching halt. You didn’t know what he was feeling anymore or thinking. He shut you out in so many ways. You tried to break through and failed. 

You both stood at separate spectrums of grief and neither of you knew how to reach the other anymore.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You hadn’t meant about your relationship. You wish you could’ve said that - informed him that the despair and betrayal of your own body left you in a place of purgatory. The pandemic stripping you bare and raw pressing salt into every wound. How was Robby supposed to love you if you didn’t know how to love yourself?

But it’s not how it sounded leaving your lips. It’s not how he took it as you watched his shoulders deflate. The emptiness that hollowed out his eyes in protection and left them empty as you felt. 

“No one is forcing you to stay.”

You never did get to tell him you saw him - saw that he’d been there waiting for you to open up. He wasn’t who he was, but he’d still tried the best he could in whatever ways he could. In the end, you believed you deserved punishment. 

Maybe that’s what losing Robby was - the universe's way of dishing it out for a wrong you never knew you committed. 

It felt suffocating; your chest caved to create a black hole of grief that felt never-ending. You watched as the pandemic tore him down piece by piece - shredding him to ribbons. So many lives were ravaged by the virus with no way to combat it. You remembered the overwhelming, crushing feeling of seeing dozens of patients lining hallways because there were no more beds. Every doctor, nurse, RTs, and CNAs struggled to care for every patient and be with those in their final moments because the families couldn’t. It was chaos. It was frightening. It felt like it would go on forever. The last thing anyone expected was for Adamson to get sick. For the virus to infiltrate his body and claim his life. 

Robby had run outside, tearing off his hazmat suit. Unable to breathe around the soul-crushing grief that constricted the air from his lungs. He’d crumbled like a house of cards as you held him in your arms, but he wasn’t allowed to grieve. He was a doctor, you were still a fucking doctor, and neither of you were allowed to grieve. You needed to compartmentalize; sew up the fraying edges of your grief and go back inside and be the doctors everyone needed.

It was agony watching what came after. The way he struggled day and night to get any amount of rest while wrestling with his demons. The guilt kept him up at night and woke him screaming covered in a cold sweat. Eventually, he stopped sleeping in bed with you all together. Slowly, you saw him less at home and only at work. You watched while the anxiety ate him alive and transformed him into someone you could barely recognize, and you felt helpless against it. At any moment, the pain in your chest would swallow you whole.

And just when you thought, given a few months, you’d be able to find new joy in your life, it all came crashing down again.

So, you waited in that hallway. You waited for any sign that you should stay. You waited to see if you’d change your mind and begin to be honest with him. You waited for him to at least turnaround and look at you - for the recognition of the life you’d had months before to flash in those beautiful brown eyes. You waited in the hallway even after he’d left - waited for your tears to dry before you went upstairs to pack up your old life and find a new one. 

You’d expected a lot of possibilities when Gloria brought you back down to the Pitt. You considered all the variables and the endless amount of what-ifs. It felt inevitable for you to end up in this very situation; him being the attending, in charge of the Pitt, and overseeing a case. The only thing you hadn’t accounted for was how the heat of his body pressed against your back made you forget how to breathe. Your mouth suddenly dry and your heart pounded violently against the ache in your chest. 

Was Robby even aware of what he was doing? You could practically feel him take a breath he was so fucking close. Fuck, you wanted to scream and you almost did when you felt his gloved hand move across your lower back as he stepped around you. The old desire to touch you every chance he could was a surprise to you both when the reflex made its appearance. It must have been a mistake - a subconscious tick because old habits can die hard. It was the only thing that made sense. You fought the urge to mouth a, ‘What the fuck?’ at him. Did he even realize what he’d done? If he did, he was damn good at hiding it. 

You needed to get your shit together. You brought him in here for your patient.

“Allan,” you began to introduce him and found you had to clear the warble from your voice. “Allan, this is Dr. Robby. He’s the attending doctor here in the emergency department. Robby, this is Allan and his mother, Rebecca.”

“Pleasure to meet you both. Now, Allan, why don’t you tell me what brings you in today?”

Once Robby agrees to your use of wire cutters to remove the key rings, conferring on medications during and after a take-home prescription, you immediately go to work. It took a few extra minutes of explaining to Allan (and his very traumatized mother) that you would be as gentle as possible, but the longer the key rings stayed on to cut off circulation, the higher the chance of necrosis would occur. You also promised him lidocaine to numb the area. Lots and lots of lidocaine. 

You’d just signed off on discharge paperwork and spoke with him one last time about maybe just buying what he wanted to try next time. It was not only the safer option but probably more fun and less mortifying than having his mom bring him here. 

You stepped out of the room and made your way up to Dana’s desk. While you’d been in the room doing minor surgery to metal keys, you’d heard a couple of new traumas that arrived through the ambulance bay. The one that unfortunately had stuck with you was the nineteen-year-old kid who’d been found unresponsive. Nineteen. Two years older than Jake. 

For years you tried to make sense of how it was possible to become so attached to a son that wasn’t even yours. You didn’t give birth to Jake and missed the beginning stages of his life. You met him at his ninth birthday party and thought he would automatically hate you. Instead, he asked you questions about superheroes and if you had a favorite wrestler. 

The relationship between Robby and Jake’s mom had been hard to navigate. Harder when you came into the picture because all mothers are understandably weary of unknown variables and people around their children. You did your best not to step on any toes and bided your time until Jake’s mom trusted you - felt comfortable enough - with your presence to allow Jake to stay over when he asked Robby. 

You went on field trips as a chaperone when Jake asked, helped him build science fair projects, and tried your best to play basketball with Jake and Robby. You were better at three-pointers and playing horse than the original two - on - two. Jake chose to see you as another parent. His mother decided to let you be a part of his life and knowing Robby, loving Robby, brought you all together. You were forever grateful to both of them for it. 

But seeing cases like this one - hearing about them - caused a cold sweat to spread across your body. Jake was a good kid - a smart kid but even smart kids could make mistakes. 

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and continued moving towards where Dana sat front and center in all the chaos. She was currently on the phone but her eyes tracked you as you made your way towards her. 

Quickly, you unlocked your phone and went to your messages. You tapped on Jake’s name.

Mom v2.0 ~ Hey kiddo just checking in. Everything good?

You were about to lock the phone and put it away when his reply came back at lightning speed. 

JakeTheRipper ~ Hey! Ya everything’s 👍🏽 I’m coming by the hospital later to get tickets from dad. Be cool to see you.  JakeTheRipper ~ if you can! JakeTheRipper ~ if you have the time!

You and Jake never lost contact with one another after you and Robby split. It’d been his golden rule and who were you to break rules, especially golden ones? But you hadn’t seen him since he was fifteen. The last weekend you spent housed up in the house - his teenage self picking up a dark cloud stole the warmth from the home. 

He’d asked to see you a few times since then but you were always busy. Always unsure if you were overstepping. But you were here now and he said he was coming here anyways so -

“What’s got you smiling all goofy?”

Dana’s question sent you crash landing back into the present. You were standing directly in front of her seated position, phone in one hand and wire cutters in the other while a perfectly arched brow did most of her questioning.

“Ugh, it’s nothing,” you replied, tucking the phone back into your pocket. 

God, you were acting suspicious. Be natural. Be cool. 

“You got a boyfriend or something?”

“Oh, god no, no, no.”

You were throwing in way too many no’s. 

You felt like you were under a microscope when Dana’s eyes narrowed in on you like this. A cold sweat was going to happen any minute now. 

“There aren’t that many things that make women smile at their phones like that.”

“Memes make people smile at their phones because they’re witty and funny. A good deal on a pair of shoes, funny videos of animals, or cute babies…anyway,” you mumbled before handing the wire cutters over the top of her computer. “Ron the maintenance guy should be coming by to pick these back up. If I miss him, can you let him know I appreciate him letting me borrow these?”

“Did you tell him what they were gonna be used for?”

“Oh, god no, and please Dana don’t tell him I used it to cut key rings off a patient's penis.”

“You mean he didn’t know why you were asking for them?” She laughed. Dana fucking laughed and it eased the tension from your shoulders tenfold. “I think at least owe the man some kind of lunch, don’t you?”

“Ugh, well, I disinfected them. Twice? Does that count?”

Another bark of laughter came as she shook her head in disbelief. She was still smiling when she reached out and took the cutters from your hand. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be up in triage?” Langdon asked, sliding in on your right. 

“Did you come all the way over here from your spot in hell to ask me that, Langdon? Are we slacking off today or willfully choosing to be lazy?”

Langdon shot you a sarcastic smile before he reached over to grab a tablet and handed it over to the med student who’d been with him before. Her dirty blonde hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail and her glasses gave her an almost childlike demeanor that was only enhanced by the excited way she bounced on her heels. Her hand shot across the counter in way of introduction. 

“Melissa King - everyone calls me Mel.”

She was so eager - sweet - that you almost warned her to be cautious in the Pitt. It tends to eat the good ones alive. 

“Dr. Fullerton,” you replied, taking her hand briefly. “I remember you from earlier. Hopefully, Langdon is taking care of you and isn’t showing you what not to do during a residency?”

“Ha, that’s very funny, Fullerton. How long has it been since you’ve been down here? You’ve probably gone soft with all the babying they do upstairs.”

“Out of the two of us, Langdon who is still in their last year of residency and who is a board-certified doctor?”

“You know what I smell?” 

“I don’t smell anything,” Mel interjected, thin lines of confusion creasing around her eyes.

“No, I don’t mean - it’s metaphorical, Dr. King.” 

“Okay, kids that's enough. Robby sees you two both standing here bickering, you'll both be in trouble.”

“Is that your way of telling us to go back to taking care of the board?” You asked. 

“No, it’s my way of telling you both to get the hell away from my station. Now shoo both of you,” Dana retorted, using a stack of patient demographics to swat at Langdon and you. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” you surrendered, backing away. 

You were mid-turn when an enthusiastic wave from Dr. King was thrown your way. 

“It was nice to meet you. Again,” she excitedly called after you. 

She seemed too pure to have picked the Pitt. Everyone had their reasons for doing residencies here and, hell, you believed med students should be mandated to work at least one full rotation in an emergency department to truly learn. Mel, however, made you just want to protect her from the harsh realities of a place like this. It could be soul-crushing and there is no way to prepare yourself for when it happens.

“Likewise, Mel. If you ever want a break from ER Ken you’re more than welcome to come find me.”

“She’s good where she’s at, Fullerton.”

You didn’t bother giving a retort; you and Langdon could keep up the verbal back and forth the whole shift. You were only a couple feet away when you heard Dr. King state, “She seems nice.”

“Yeah. She’s alright. A little unhinged, but alright.”

Each word had been pulled like teeth from him; admitting you weren’t the absolute worst thing in the world, or at least inside this hospital, you knew made Langdon grumpy. Those few words left a sour taste in his mouth admitting anything nice about you, but it was enough for you because it meant one thing for you. There was hope that today wouldn’t be a total disaster after all. 

It was a busy morning but mornings were always busy in the Pitt. There shouldn’t have been a reason the hum of panic constantly buzzed behind his ears. It only grew louder the closer he got to the pediatrics wing of rooms. The bright colors blazed out into the hallway; all greens and blues. Animal motifs meant to instill comfort instead summoned what he’d struggled to keep buried. 

Dana already caught him helplessly trapped outside the room. The memory of that day - the last day with Adamson - flashed vividly like every nightmare he’d had of that day since. Robby had been so engrossed in the recollection of monitors blaring and Princess shouting for him to do something, “Robby we’re losing him,” that he wasn’t able to shake the feeling of dread off. 

He knew Dana noticed. The way her eyes craned over his shoulder to take in the peds room was the only confirmation he needed. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. When do I ever make you worry about me?”

“Are you kidding?” Dana chuckled. “All the time.”

They both knew he was lying. Robby never did confirm it when Dana asked, but he didn’t need to. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be fine or even close to simply being okay. Even after four long years, Robby found he still sought Adamson’s advice. Moments in the Pitt he swore he could hear him directing the room; asking questions to challenge Robby because “a doctor never stops learning.”

He missed being able to confide in him. The expectant look on Adamson’s face when Robby asked about situations in his life where he was at a loss of what to do. 

Robby needed to change the subject - and lead Dana down a safer path of questioning that he could handle. If he could keep himself away from that room he should be okay. He could handle you being here and everything else if he didn’t have to step foot in that room. He should’ve known there was no safe space where Dana wasn’t going to bring you up. Robby could see the hard exterior she tried to keep up to defend against your presence was beginning to crack. 

Maybe so was his. 

“The two of you looked cozy earlier.”

“Dana, you know I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her voice oozed a playfulness that edged towards teasing. 

“But there is no universe where you and I talk about this.”

“I was just making an astute observation.”

“I would appreciate it if you maybe observe somewhere else. We have eleven more hours of this shift to go and I’d rather not have to spend it talking about her.”

“Yeah, because you’re allergic to talking in general.”

“Well, that’s just not true. I’m allergic to people I don’t want to have a conversation with,” he pointed out.

She tried to shake the smile off her lips. Her palm lightly smacked at his shoulder which caused his smile to rise in response. 

“You’re such a smart ass.”

“I try my very best,” he mumbled as he leaned down towards the computer. 

He’d just grabbed his badge to swipe past the electronic monitor to unlock the computer, placing his arms to brace on either side of the keyboard when he felt her presence eclipse to his right. Dana was leaning over the counter divider. Her arms hanging over waiting for him to look back up at her. 

“Something else I can help you with, Dana?”

“Just wondering if you’d be more talkative if you knew Fullerton was all smiles earlier. She had her phone out. Seemed to be textin’ someone.”

Robby could feel his eyes narrow in on her position. He shouldn’t care - he shouldn’t fucking care - because you were the one who left. What did he care if you were dating anybody? It’s been two years. The chances of you dating were astronomically high; shit, he’d attempted it a while after you left. Instead of taking care of himself because, “You look like shit,”, as Dana lovingly told him, he’d done what 95% of the population does: he ran from it. 

Heather Collins was an R2 at the time. She was funny, intelligent, witty, beautiful, and he’d fucked it up in record time. All the things you’d thrown at him about being shit at taking his own advice, hiding from his problems, were true. When things took a turn he’d lock up. Collins noticed the cracks and mentioned them enough he countered with argument after argument. The worst part was he was harboring a love for someone else that was gone. You can’t love someone else, give them the love they deserve, when you’re buried ten feet deep for someone else. She deserved better than to be a rebound - better than what Robby could’ve given her because no matter how amazing she was he still thought of you. Heather deserved more than to be a body to bury his sorrows in. He tried dating again a year later but that had also gone up in spectacular flames. Robby couldn’t keep the ghost of you from haunting him.

He tried to act like he didn’t care - that Dana’s words weren’t threatening his last proper brain cell for the day. By the look on Dana’s face, he did a shit job of hiding it. So what if you were with someone? He shouldn’t even care. 

“Did she say who she was talking to?”

Why the fuck did he ask that? Dana didn’t necessarily answer him as much as she chose instead to grin. A silent, ‘Gotcha’ flashing that he absolutely hated. He’d walked right into it. 

“Surprise, surprise. I thought she’d be one of your allergies.” 

A huff of laughter rushed past his lips that he tried to cover up with a cough. 

“You’ve got a mean streak in you.”

Dana patted his arm before she retracted back inside her bubble. The phone went off in record time to pull her safely away from having to hear him complain. She gave him one last thumbs up before her back faced him, completely ending the conversation and forcing him back to the open file on the screen. 

He enjoyed the quiet for all of a millisecond before he heard - 

“Hey, fruitcake.”

God, take him now. Robby chose to ignore her. Ignore her like every other time - 

“Hey, I’m talking to you, fruitcake.”

“Myrna,” he bit out. “I told you a hundred times my name is Dr. Robby.”

He expected her to argue about nicknames and their usage. It’s usually what happens when he advises her that maybe she’d get better treatment if she’d use real names. That isn’t what he got. 

“Do you wanna see my vagina?”

Robby’s eyebrows ran towards his hairline as he replied, “I've already seen it. And once was enough, thank you.” 

“And what about mine?”

Robby knew that voice. He’d know it in any lifetime, through space and time; Robby would know your fucking voice anywhere. He turned to his left and there you were with your elbows and back resting against the counter. You’d leaned close enough so that your words were for him and him alone. 

Robby wanted to humor himself that it had to be his imagination. The flash of something dark, ravenous, and achingly familiar he saw in your eyes must have been his subconscious going haywire. It wasn’t until he watched recognition dawn of what you said, the way you’d fucking said it, crest over your face that Robby knew he hadn’t made it up. 

The heat of embarrassment had you straightening up beside him. He could see it in the light tinging of your cheeks, the anxious beat your fingers rapped on the counter. You weren’t looking at him now but he wished you would. 

And then the memory of Dana saying you’d been caught smiling at your phone reared its evil head. 

Mine. 

He couldn’t keep the word from forming in his head. You’d been his for so long and those words of yours meant to tease and force him to give you a response. Robby wanted to tell you that no, once wasn’t enough. It was never enough. 

Mine. 

The last few months of your relationship had ended in flames but the rest. What about the rest of the many years you’d spent together? They’d been spectacular. The best memories he had you were a part of. The attempts at gardening and doctoring up sick animals. The way you’d dance to his records as you danced through every room while you dusted. The sounds of yours and Jake’s laughter mixing from the kitchen table going over homework. 

He could remember the way your hands fisted the sheets as his hands hooked under your thighs to bring you closer to his greedy mouth. Your slick drenching his face, his beard, stubble - whatever phase he was in with or without facial hair. Robby loved it when you began to let go; body melting in his hands as your fingers wound themselves tightly in his hair to pull him closer, deeper. Robby could get drunk off your taste, the soft keening breaths that came ragged and shaking from your chest. How your body trembled as he worked each finger inside you until your back arched beautifully off the bed. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine….

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t fucking care, but he fucking did. 

“What can I do for you, Dr. Fullerton?”

Robby grabbed the PPE gown from beside the table before he went to his full height. From this advantage, he could faintly make out the dying hint of a flush on your cheeks. 

“I was talking here first, Sugar tits.”

You pivoted to glance around him and waved at Myrna who waved back with her middle finger. 

“Myrna, always a pleasure. I think that’s my third finger wave today,” you muttered the last part to him. 

“Dr. Fullerton.”

“Right, right. I wanted to see if I could borrow one of your med students. Central 3 and 4 have two patients, males twenty-three and twenty- four in age. Both were at the same BBQ and believed dumping liter fluid on a fire was a good idea.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, they look like human marshmallows right now. One has second-degree burns while central 4 has, what I believe, might be second degrading into three.”

“Do you need me to come take a look?”

It felt like a reasonable question. He was attending and usually, all consultations like this went through him for an opinion. He’d just done it with her half an hour ago. It shouldn’t be a big deal - 

“Oh, no, no. Thanks but I think I got this.”

“Oook. If you got it, why do you need a med student?”

“I figure it would be a good teaching moment for one of them on treatments of burns and how to assess the level. I’ve already called surgery for a consultation on central 4. Plus, there’s no available nurse to help me attend to both.”

Robby tried to keep the scoff from coming out. He shook his head and went to move around you, shooting Myrna an irritated glance that hopefully she caught as his nonverbal way of telling her he didn’t want to see her the rest of the day. 

“So, you are saying you need help, you just don’t want my help.”

God, he sounded like a petulant child. By the look on your face, you’d agree with that statement. 

“Robby, I know you’re busy - “

“I’m not busy,” he cut in. 

“Robby, the parents of the OD teen are here.”

Dana came from behind the station, her eyes glancing between the two of you. 

“Okay, park them in Trauma 1. He’s not back from CT yet. I’ll be there in a minute. You can borrow Whitaker,” he directed at you.  

He had to move. There was still the floating face patient in trauma 2. He needed to find out if they’d been able to prep for a safe intubation and if not, they were doing a solid alternative. Langdon was there with both interns. Robby could trust him. He should’ve been more worried about himself because as he passed by you on his way to trauma 2, he felt his body dip towards you. The jealousy rushed up like a lance piercing his heart as he remembered Dana’s words. The idea that you’d moved on, that someone else had taken his place, threatened to remove whatever sensible bit of himself he had left. 

“And don’t pull your phone out on the floor. It’s unprofessional, and I won’t have it in my department. You can step outside like everyone else.”

You didn’t look at him as he spoke. You didn’t even snap at him or give him any hint you’d heard him. Robby knew you’d heard him, but your eyes were solely focused behind him. It was the spot he’d just been standing - the spot Dana now occupied. 

There should’ve been some satisfaction in watching Dana’s face crumble like this. All the earlier anger dissipated back into a playful, if not biting, rhetoric that gave you some hope the day wouldn’t be your version of Dante’s Inferno. 

But Robby’s comment…

Only one person saw you on the phone earlier. One person who’d asked about who you’d been talking to while you’d read Jake’s texts. You’d been so ready to shout at Robby that it was Jake, his son. It might have given you some retribution but why should you have to explain anything to him? He was acting like a jealous significant other, not a damn boss. The way he’d pressed himself against you earlier; touching you as if half-possessed. 

You weren’t helping, were you? The minute the words had leapt from your mouth you’d wished you could take them back. You shouldn’t have said it and yet, you did. You fucking did and now the wanton look he’d given you was forever etched into your brain. 

You were an idiot. 

An even bigger idiot for thinking Dana would’ve left anything between you. 

“You just couldn’t help yourself. Could you?”

“Kid - “

Dana took a step forward ready to explain. You didn’t have it in you to listen. When the phone went off in her hand you found your way out and took it. 

“Do you know where I can find Whitaker?”

“He had a patient around the North-East hallway.”

“Thanks.”

You heard her call your name. Not Fullerton, not kid. Dana said your name and for the first time today, you wished she’d stuck to calling you an asshole. 

You followed Dana’s instructions and moved toward the hallways. You weren’t sure how long you’d be searching for him, but luckily it wasn’t long. On the opposite side of the hall, you watched him wheel a patient out of 17 North and into the halls. Whatever the patient said stopped Whitaker in his tracks - both grateful and surprised all at once. You waited a few minutes longer for him to enjoy a good moment with his patient (because sometimes it didn’t always go like that) before you made your way around to get to him. 

“Whitaker!”

“Uhm, oh yes. Hi, Dr. Fullerton.”

“I have a couple of burn patients in Central 3 and 4; second to third degree. Dr. Robby said you’d be able to assist if that’s alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I would. That’d be awesome. Thank you.”

He was so earnest it was endearing. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s go remove some dead tissue.” 

You took the lead in showing Whitaker to the rooms. You were trying to make polite conversation. It only seemed fair to take a small interest in what motivated a young doctor to get into the field of medicine, of saving lives. Basic questions such as those were able to tell you a lot about who someone was and if they held enough compassion to be around people during their most vulnerable times. 

You did try your best to keep your attention trained on the work. It was your turn to be a teacher, and you wanted to do it well. You didn’t have an excuse why you looked toward Trauma 1. No excuse at all why you watched Robby speak to the kids' parents looking defeated before they’d even begun. There was even less of an excuse for when Robby looked away from them, his eyes searching until he found yours, that should’ve made you want to forget these last two years. You hated the old impulse to run to him - to care for him. The last time you’d seen Robby looking desperately close to combusting like this it’d been a few doors down standing outside pediatrics. 

Looking at him now, Robby seemed ready to quit, and it wasn’t even close to 8:30. 

______________

As always, thank you all so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

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Tag list: @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange

[srjlvr]

HOW TO NOT SURVIVE HIGHSCHOOL

LYING to his friends about having a girlfriend was definitely not on his ‘how to survive highschool’ list and now, he has to convince his biggest rival that will surely laugh at his face, to fake date him.

PAIRING. rugby player+rival!sunghoon X rival-fem!reader (mentions of the rest of enha, aespa’s karina and boynextdoor taesan)

GENRE. childhood enemies to fake dating to lovers, angst, comedy, fluff and idk what more.

WARNINGS. young sunghoon’s a bitch, so is young y/n, also older sunghoon’s a bitch and so is y/n, manipulating here and there, misunderstandings, miscommunications, definitely curse words (seventh graders already know how to curse here!) , horrible humor, ik its weird but all of the mentioned idols here are the same age! (lmk if i missed something pls!)

WORD-COUNT. 10.4k+

NOTE. ok fine! bully me for not knowing how to make a pretty cover, its the story that matters though, right? anyways besties i really dunno when will be my next update so please be patient!! i miss writing and being here 24/7 honestly but its just been really hard for me.

“i need you to fake date me”

“no”

“please?”

“are you seriously begging right now?”

“yes?”

“that’s fun, get on your knees and beg more”

“are you nuts? i’ll never do that”

“fine then, pay me for that”

“how much?”

“two”

“dollars?”

“billions”

if there’s one thing sunghoon can say about himself is that he’s quite an organized person, therefore he made a list for highschool.

a list that will help him survive his last years in highschool and will help him stay sane at the same time.

he called his list “how to survive highschool”, creative, right?

he’s been following his list and so far managed to survive just perfectly.

staying in rugby team with his friends? check!

“sunghoon! catch!” he heard a voice calling him and saw a ball coming right at him, he caught the ball and ran with it, then passing the ball to riki, his friend and teammate who scored the game and ended it with a win.

“that was a good one! take a break and return in thirty minutes!” the rugby team’s coach clapped and sent the players off for break.

“hey! i got your exam grades here! come collect them!” jungwon, one of sunghoon’s friends waved the exams to show the players he got the them in his hands.

sunghoon went up to jungwon and took his own.

get high grades? check!

“i got A+ again!” he looked at the grade and excitedly smiled.

“ugh, you’re making me sick being the nerdy rugby player” jay, another friends of his rolled his eyes.

“you’re just jealous my grades are higher than your chances with your crush” sunghoon joked.

“oh you—“ “enough! no fighting on break time” heeseung cut jay in the middle of his sentence.

“let’s just get something to snack, it’s lunch time anyway” sunoo suggested and they all nodded.

“you guys ready?” riki asked before they entered the hallway.

get popular enough so students will freak out when they see you? check!

“sunghoon! i got you this chocolate snack! please accept this and enjoy it” a one random student handed him the chocolate snack.

before he could take it, jake snatched it and smiled, “i’ll take that, thank you” and left the girl and sunghoon speechless.

“dude what the fuck?” he asked his friend.

“it could be poisoned for all you care” jake shrugged but proceeded to take a bite from the snack as they kept walking.

“let’s just sit right there!” jungwon pointed at one lunch table as they entered the cafeteria.

“really? right in front of where y/n is sitting?” sunoo whispered in his ear.

“sure, let’s do that” sunghoon replied and started walking towards the table.

“um, i’ll go grab the snacks” riki said and ran to get the snacks.

“did he just-“ “oh, it’s going to be interesting” jake smirked and watched sunghoon as he walked really closer to you, who was sitting with your back towards him.

“so, what are your plans for the weekend?” your friend karina asked as she took a bite of your food.

“oh i don’t really know, probably chilling at home and—“ you were cut off middle sentence by someone bumping into you, causing you to spill some of your food on your uniform.

“what the fuck?” you turned around and saw the person behind it, “should’ve known it was you, park”

get yourself a rival so it’ll be more fun and interesting….? check!

“sorry, couldn’t see you there” he smirked.

“just go away” you rolled your eyes at him and turned to your friend who looked awkward as hell.

“sure” he started to walk but bumped into you again, causing you to spill more food on your clothes.

“oops! that happened again” he chuckled and continued to walk to the table.

“that’s it” that was your last straw.

you got up and took your water bottle, “y/n dont—“ your friend tried to stop you but it was too late already.

as you got closer to sunghoon, you poured all your water on him.

“what the—“ “sorry!! i slipped over and spilled some on you!!” you replied with a smirk and stormed off.

his friends who were watching the whole thing from afar, walked closer to now drenched sunghoon and started laughing.

“damn, that was fun. do it again!” jay cheered.

“here sunghoon i got you a towel!” a student walked up to him and handed him a towel to dry himself.

“thank you, i’ll take it” sunoo said and took the towel.

sunghoon glared at him, “what? you’re already used to being drenched by sweat, it’s the same thing, no?”

“i hate him” you rolled your eyes.

“say, what’s the deal with you and sunghoon? you never really told me and i just assumed he annoys you because he’s a nerdy rugby player,” she chuckled, “but it seems more than that”

“park sunghoon has been on my ass ever since seventh grade” you sighed.

“why? what happened on seventh grade?” she asked, leaving everything she was busy on behind and crossing her hands to focus on you and you only.

before seventh grade you and sunghoon were best friends, hell, your parents could’ve sworn that one day you’ll end up marrying each other.

you were stuck like a glue, always around each other and doing basically everything together, no one could tear you apart.

until, seventh grade happened.

you were the top student in class, you aced everything, from math to arts and received praises from all teachers. for the last few days of school, the teacher wanted you to show the whole school your arts project.

you drew your favorite view, which was your house garden, the teacher got so excited over the drawing and decided she wants you to show it to everyone else too.

a day before the last day of school, you were busy doing the last touches of your art, sunghoon was busy doing his usual, which was to annoy you.

“sunghoon stop! i need to focus” you scoffed.

sunghoon shrugged, “but i’m bored”

“go play around with others or something” you sighed.

he shook his head, “not when i can annoy you!”

he walked back and forth, even twirled around, until he became dizzy and accidentally pushed you over your drawing, making it look like a big mess over the canvas.

you let out a yelp and looked at it with teary eyes.

“i….i’m sorry!” he quickly said.

“get out!” you yelled without even looking at him.

“it can be fixed! just a few little—“ “i asked you to get out! you ruined my drawing! how will i be able to show it to everyone now?” at this point you started crying.

you didn’t show your unfinished and ruined art in front of everyone, instead it was sunghoon’s drawing that was shown to everyone.

your teacher saw the ruined art and decided to change the plans by taking sunghoon’s project and showing it to everyone.

jealousy was eating you alive. it was supposed to be you up there on stage, showing the project to everyone and getting the compliments, you deserve that after working so hard.

it was sunghoon’s fault, all of it.

before you walked away with your parents, sunghoon called you a few times. at first you ignored his callings, but your parents, unbeknown to the whole story behind it, stopped your tracks and told you to go to sunghoon.

with heavy steps you walked closer to him, “what do you want?” you coldly asked.

“i wanted to apologize” he took a deep breath.

“great, you just did”

“wait—“

“we’re good now, i forgive you” you lied. you just didn’t feel like hearing his excuses and explanations.

“wow, really?”

“yeah” no.

although you told sunghoon you forgive him, things became really awkward between the two of you.

summer vacation arrived and you did your best to ignore him, except the times where he left you no choice and just randomly showed up at your house.

eighth grade was cool between the two of you, but you still held strong feelings against him.

he tried his best to overcome the weird awkwardness between the two of you, you’re too important for him to let go. he was honestly so scared of entering highschool without you by his side.

the second half of eighth grade was the last straw between the two of you.

you started crushing over someone in your class, and started hanging out with him, slowly getting close to the guy.

sunghoon, who was carefully watching you from behind, didn’t like your new crush, he seemed like bad news to him, getting close not only to you, but to other girls as well.

your parents, who were strict that time, warned you about dating a guy at such young age, and sunghoon had to do what he had to do.

“park, what the fuck?” you came up to him and pushed him.

“what?” he asked surprised.

“why the fuck did you tell my parents about him?” you shout.

“oh,” he rolled his eyes, “so it’s about him”

“of course it’s about him! you know about my long time crush on him!”

“he’s bad news y/n” sunghoon tried to warn you.

“no, you’re bad news! i should’ve known not to forgive you at all” you scoffed and walked away.

“y/n, wait!” sunghoon called you but you were faster than the light and suddenly was nowhere to be found.

“uh oh” jay, who was there to witness everything pat his friend’s back, “you fucked up”

“yeah, thanks jay i really needed that” sunghoon rolled his eyes.

“really? going behind her back and telling her parents about some guy? you could’ve just talked with her about it” jay snapped.

“it’s not that easy”

“it sure isn’t, and so will be your attempts to talk with her”

jay was right, sunghoon tried everything to get to talk with you, followed you everywhere, sent you numerous texts and calls until you had to block his number, even showed up at your house a few times. nothing helped.

so sunghoon, being the cool teenager he is, decided to move on. he doesn’t need you anymore anyways.

nineth grade came and so did a new student that sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off of.

slowly he tried his best to get closer to her and spending more time with her, he was so close to confess his feelings towards her.

“did you do that on purpose?” she asked, nothing but hatred in her eyes as she looked at sunghoon.

“do what…?” he asked confused.

“did you tell the whole school about my family issues?” she raised her voice.

“what? no! i would never—“

“forget it, you’re such a jerk!” she yelled and stormed out.

“wait!!” he called her and was about to run after her but his eyes caught a glimpse of a person smirking.

he clenched his jaw and moved closer to the figure, “what the fuck did you do?” he asked.

“nothing, i don’t know what you’re talking about” the person shrugged.

“don’t play dumb, y/n. i know you had something to do with it” he rolled his eyes.

“still don’t know what you’re talking about” you shrugged again, “maybe someone’s just taking a revenge on you, i don't know” you added and left with a smirk.

“i hate you choi y/n!” he shout. “it’s mutual park sunghoon!”

“oh now i get it! yes girl! give him the revenge he deserves to get” karina cheered and you nodded.

“but, don’t you think he ruined your chances with your crush just because he was jealous?” she asked and you glared at her, “i mean, even your parents could’ve sworn you’d end up getting married”

“even if he was jealous, he should’ve confronted me about it” you replied and she nodded.

“you’re right” she sighed, “but what if he was, i don’t know, scared?”

“are you seriously on his side now?” you asked in disbelief.

“never!” she hugged you and you giggled.

“let’s get you cleaned up, i think i have an extra uniform in my locker”

“oh no, walking in school hallways like that is like just straight up asking to be bullied”

“i won’t let anyone bully you bae, let’s go”

“by the way! all of you are invited to my brother’s wedding, no single hoes are invited though, that includes you sunghoon” heeseung chuckled,

“sweet! when is it?” jake asked.

“in a month”

“what? you cannot be serious!” sunghoon complained.

“sorry, your single ass will not be able to handle this wedding” heeseung shrugged.

“even riki has a partner before you” sunoo laughed.

“guys just realized sunghoon is really the only one single here” jungwon added which made everyone laugh and make jokes about him.

“all of you can shut up because i actually do have a girlfriend”

heeseung was obviously joking about sunghoon not being invited because he’s single, but he was not expecting to hear his friend confessing that he actually is seeing someone now.

sunghoon was also not expecting that big lie to come out of his mouth, but it was already too late.

“what?” jungwon spoke first after the silence that surrounded after his confession.

“i do have a girlfriend” no sunghoon, you can still get away with it and say you were joking.

sunghoon’s list of surviving highschool has a lot of tasks still left untouched, but this one was definitely not, and was never written, as one of his tasks on his list.

lie to your friends about having a girlfriend? definitely not on the list, stop with the lies!!!

his friends looked at him in shock. riki dropped the spoon he was about to shove into his mouth, jake choked on his water and heeseung pat his back, jay almost fainted and jungwon and sunoo froze in their place.

“what?” sunghoon asked.

they all burst into laughter, “that was a good one! i almost believed you!” riki wiped his tears that fell down because of the amount of laughter he let out.

“i’m serious!” sunghoon scoffed.

“you? a girlfriend? sunghoon, i saw your ‘how to survive highschool’ list, you had a ‘no matter what, stay single until you finish highschool!’ line!” jay chuckled.

“i can break one line its not a big deal, besides, she’s definitely worth it” sunghoon smiled.

he’s talking about no one, no one comes to his mind at the moment, but he still keeps on with his lie.

“will we be able to see her before the wedding?” heeseung asked.

“a day before maybe” sunghoon nodded.

“hey! we’re already late for practice! get up everyone now!!” jungwon checked the clock and hurried everyone up.

sunghoon knows he fucked up, real bad. he never had a normal conversation with a girl in highschool, and let’s not forget about the fact that everyone talks to him as if he has some kind of royal blood.

the only real friendship he had with a girl was with you in his childhood. and you’re the only girl who can talk back to him without feeling threatened. wait, that’s it!

“i need you to fake date me”

curse him and his very awful impulse control.

as soon as sunghoon finished his practice he went to the library, figured he’d find you there and apparently he was right.

the book you were reading was long forgotten as you tried to process what you just heard.

“no” you replied shortly.

“please?” he sounded so desperate.

“are you seriously begging right now?”

“yes?”

“that’s fun, get on your knees and beg more” you smirked.

“are you nuts? i’ll never do that” he frowned and rolled his eyes.

“fine then, pay me for that”

“how much?”

“two”

“dollars?”

“billions”

“hell no”

“kiss my ass goodbye then” you shrugged.

“you’re unbelievable”

“said the one who barged into the library and started begging me to date him”

“yeah, it’ll help you become popular” he slightly nodded.

“right, you’re already popular and have multiple fans or whatever, why don’t you just ask them?”

“it’ll just make things worse!”

“fuck off sunghoon, i’m not going to fake date you and help you because of some stupid lie you told” you rolled your eyes and got back to reading the book.

he tried begging you once more but at this point you just decided to ignore him until he left.

“what the heck was that?” you asked yourself and shook your head.

“hey y/n!” you heard a voice calling you and you immediately recognized this voice.

it belonged to taesan, your classmate and also your longtime crush. taesan’s quite popular amongst the students, and surprising so, he’s not a rugby player.

you’ve made a pros and cons lists about your few old crushes and also made one about your current crush, taesan.

pros? he’s funny, smart, creative, caring, friendly, kind and would prefer to spend his free time in the library with you.

cons?

“hey sunghoon dude! didn’t see you there, what are you doing here?”

he’s sunghoon’s best friend. that is a BIG no no for you.

“just came to check something, studying again?” sunghoon smirked as he looked at you.

did he seriously wait for taesan to come so he could spend more time annoying you?

“yeah, it’s my studying with y/n time, we’ve been doing that for a while” taesan smiled widely and winked at you.

without even noticing your cheeks started to heat up. but your blushing cheeks were already noticed by someone who’s definitely going to use that against you.

“right, i’m not going to interrupt you two, enjoy!” sunghoon said as he gave you one last smirk before turning around and leaving.

“isn’t he so weird sometimes? i can definitely understand why you hate his guts” taesan chuckled and you nodded.

“how are you today anyway? didn’t see you that much” he smiled.

“so far so good, you?”

“great now that i’m here with you”

you tried your best to stop your racing heart beats after hearing what he said and making eye contact with him.

you just giggled and opened a book right away, “let’s just start with this book!”

after some time that felt like half an hour to you (but was actually two hours or so) it was time to go back home.

“let me walk you home” taesan suggested.

“it’s okay, i live closeby, if so i’m the one who needs to walk you home” you giggled.

“i insist”

you didn’t reply to him and just walked out of the library as he followed you.

“oh hey y/n, taesan!” you stopped your trace when you noticed sunghoon standing right outside the library.

“sunghoon? why are you still here?” taesan asked, emphasizing the last question.

“just walked by after dropping yeji at her friend’s house, also i promised y/n i’ll walk her home, right y/n?”

you looked at him confused but he gave you the ‘you better say yes now’ look, and besides, you didn’t want to bother taesan with the long walk.

“right, i completely forgot, i’m really sorry taesan, next time i’ll be the one to walk you home!” you said and he nodded.

“don’t worry about it!” he said, quite confused since he never saw the both of you getting along and actually walking home together, even though you live right across each other.

sunghoon took your hand and dragged you away from taesan.

“what the fuck park?”

“walking him home? seriously? your lazy ass could never” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“fuck off sunghoon, why are you really here?”

“i’ve got a deal to offer” he stopped you from walking and you glared at him.

“no”

“you haven’t heard it yet”

“i don’t care, it’s a no from me, i can never trust you” you scoffed and started walking away.

“i’ll help you to get close to taesan!” he said and you froze for a second, “i don’t need your help”

“oh but you do” he smirked as he figured he got your weakness point, “you’ve been acting awfully trying to hide your little crush on him”

“what do you need?” you asked, half convinced.

“a month” he said straightforwardly.

“are you—“

“a month of fake dating and then i’ll let you tell everyone you broke up with me and broke my heart and whatever you want” he licked his lips, “i’ll help you get closer to taesan too”

“i need a day to think about it” you sighed.

“fine” he said, full of hopes and prayers.

as you arrived you bid your goodbyes for the first time in years, and it never felt so weird as much as it just did.

as you entered the house you took a quick shower and ate, right after that you ran to get your phone a called karina.

“i think you should do it, a month wouldn’t be so bad, plus, he did say he’ll help you get close to taesan” she said.

“can i really trust him though? he ruined my chances with my crush once already” you groaned.

“you’re right, don’t trust that guy”

“but he’s also the only one that could get me close to taesan”

“right again, trust him fully and agree to that deal”

“you’re not helping me at all!!” you complained.

“i don’t know bae, i guess that if i was you i would’ve probably go with what my heart says”

“cliché much, aren’t we?”

“i didn’t know what to say!”

“i guess i just…”

“really? are you for real? is it really happening right now? i need you to sign this contract right now before you regret” sunghoon’s eyes widened and his lips formed into a little smile.

you rolled your eyes, “don’t make me regret this”

“okay okay, i won’t, let’s just find a spot where we could talk” he said and took your hand.

he dragged you to an empty classroom and closed the door.

“so,” he spoke, “we need rules”

“no shit sherlock”

“can you stop being an actual bitch for a second and hear me out?” he spat and you rolled your eyes.

“i’ll be walking you home, mornings and afternoons no matter what” he said.

“does that really matter? i mean, no one sees us” you sighed.

“that’s what you think, my friends are stalkers it’s actually scary”

“whatever”

“we’ll be posting pictures together which means we’re going to have to go on date—“

“im gonna stop you right there” you cut him off middle sentence, “you can just use pictures from pinterest”

“what?”

“there’s no chance im going on dates with you” you argued.

“you agreed to this fake dating, you need to face the consequences”

you groaned and he continued, “kissing is not prohibited, you can kiss me whenever you want, if it’s necessary”

you felt like throwing up hearing this sentence.

“who’s gonna buy that? just yesterday you were bumping into me and acting like a total bitch in front of everyone” you rolled your eyes.

“it’s as simple as that, we’ll say we’ve been forced by our parents to come as a couple to an event and we had a deep conversation about our past and after a while of reuniting i asked you out and we decided to hide our relationship until now” he shrugged.

“wow,” you clapped, “you thought about it the whole day yesterday didn’t you?”

“no…” he scratched his nape and looked everywhere but at you.

“sure” you nodded, completely not believing what he just said.

“anyways it’s all settled, we’ll be posting a picture today after school” he said and was about to leave the classroom.

“one more thing,” he said, “pda is a must, therefore you’d have to give me your hand and we’d have to go hand in hand to classroom”

“just say you want to hold my hand, i’ll take that into consideration, but i’m not interested” you asked annoyed.

“you wish someone would actually want to hold your hand out of his own will” he rolled his eyes.

“you haven’t touched a single soul in your entire life”

“just shut up” he sighed.

“never as long as your annoying ass is right besides me”

he just groaned and took your hand.

“starting now” he nodded, “it’ll make everyone confuse until we reveal our relationship”

“yuck, even calling it a relationship is making me want to throw up”

“hope your stupid brain knows it’s mutual but whatever, just don’t act like that when we’re together”

walking through the hallway while everyone is whispering and glancing at you was never a problem to sunghoon, it was a big problem for you though.

you tried letting go of sunghoon’s hand to stop the whispering and glancing but he held you tighter.

“it’s okay, calm down i’m here with you” he whispered.

as much as you’d like to deny it, it made you feel somewhat safe.

however, it’s the park sunghoon we’re talking about. your worst enemy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you whispered back.

“and we’re here, outside your classroom” he changed the subject and stopped right outside of your class while everyone else kept looking at the two of you.

“i’ll wait for you after class” he winked and left a peck on your forehead before leaving to his classroom.

you so wished you could wipe it off at the moment. or at least, you think.

“what the fuck did i just saw?” karina walked up to you as soon as sunghoon left.

“we have a lot to catch on” you sighed and dragged her inside the classroom.

“and you agreed?!?”

“ms. karina and ms. y/n, would you like to share to your class what were you talking about?” the teacher knocked on the desk.

“no, we’re sorry” you said quietly and the teacher went back to teaching.

“you told me to follow what my heart says!” you whispered-yelled to her.

“i didn’t think it’d say to agree to it!!” she replied back.

“well i did, and now i’m stuck with the worst person ever”

“maybe he’s not that bad”

“get out karina”

“can’t, we’re in the middle of a class” she shrugged and you groaned.

“so you’re now dating your worst ever enemy, the infamous woman in this highschool, choi y/n?!!”

“yes jake, i don’t know why it’s so surprising to you” sunghoon rolled his eyes as he took a bite from his lunch.

“surprising only to him? sunghoon, just a few days ago you called her an attention seeker bitch, now you’re telling us you’ve been dating for a few months already?” jungwon asked, concerned.

“well we did great at hiding didn’t we? our parents told us we should sign to drama classes”

“nothing here makes sense” jay shook his head.

lying to his friends about his whole relationship life? was definitely not and never will be on his list but he couldn’t care less about the list anymore.

“life doesn’t make sense, jay” sunghoon sighed, “it just happened, now i can’t stop thinking about her, it’s like i want to spend every minute with her”

“ew, not in front of my salad” riki gagged.

“although it makes no sense to me, i’m happy for you sunghoon, so proud of you for finally getting along with someone” sunoo pat his back.

“hey what do you mean by that?”

“from childhood friends to childhood enemies to lovers, that sounds like an actual pretty good story genre” heeseung crossed his arms and nodded.

“can’t believe you haven’t told me anything about it!” taesan, who for the first time in a while joined their lunch table, lightly pushed sunghoon, completely in disbelief.

“you’re right, i should’ve told you about it before” sunghoon nodded.

sunghoon’s a bad friend. a very, very bad one.

a few weeks ago he had a conversation with who he considers as his best friend, but how could he face him now after this conversation?

“hey hoon! i wanted to ask you something” taesan bit his lips, a bit anxious to start the conversation.

“yeah dude, what’s up?” he asked.

“i know you and y/n are….not on good terms, but i actually started spending some time with her and i’m really interested in her” his eyes lit up from excitement just by talking about you, “wanted to ask you if that’s okay that, you know….”

“yeah for sure! even though i hate this person with all my heart, i can’t decided on your life, can’t see how and why you’re interested in her but whatever, it’s yours” sunghoon shrugged.

“thanks sunghoon, i’m really glad i got you as my friend” taesan hugged sunghoon tightly.

sunghoon definitely knew about taesan’s little crush about you, and the day he told you that taesan has a little crush, he actually meant you.

back to today, sunghoon feels like his whole life was tearing apart.

how could he betray his friend like that? after everything taesan did to him. from helping him with studies to even paying for the things he couldn’t.

taesan shook his head and smiled weakly, “whatever makes you happy sunghoon” he said.

sunghoon was expecting him to shout at him and get mad about it, but was actually surprised he took it well somehow.

‘i’m doing this for you too’ sunghoon thought, after all, he has the perfect plan for taesan and y/n.

“thanks taesan” sunghoon hugged him tightly and pat his back as a sign for asking for forgiveness.

“that’s not gonna work, too many people are looking at us” you complained as soon as you got out of your last class for the day and noticed sunghoon who was already waiting for you outside.

“with popularity comes the consequences” he shrugged and you rolled your eyes.

“enjoy lovebirds!” jay shouted as he walked past you.

“let’s go” he extended his hand out for you to hold it but you shook your head.

“i promised taesan i’ll review his essay he wrote”

“you can do it tomorrow—“ “can’t, plus you said you’ll help me with taesan, we can go on your stupid fake date later”

sunghoon rolled his eyes and sighed, “fine, i’ll walk you to the library”

when he noticed you smiling he couldn’t help but feel that weird feeling of excitement, but then he realized you were not smiling because of him.

“hey y/n!” taesan smiled warmly at you when he noticed you, “and sunghoon” he added quietly.

“hey taesan” you called with a wider smile on your face and sunghoon nodded.

“i’ll pick you up later then” he said and walked away.

“so…you and sunghoon huh?” taesan asked.

“ugh, don’t even— i felt everyone’s eyes on me throughout the whole day” you groaned.

“you don’t seem that happy with that”

“because i’m not! i’m so tired of it already, i should’ve known not to agree to that deal”

“what deal?”

“uhhhh” you freaked out, how stupid can you actually be??

“nothing!! no deal” you giggled nervously.

“if you say so” he shrugged and opened his laptop to show you his essay.

“why dont you just tell him?” karina asked you over the phone.

“and what will i say if he asks why i agreed to the deal?”

“simple, ‘i did it because i want sunghoon to help me date you’, like that”

“sure, it’s that easy” you rolled your eyes.

“how was your first day dating sunghoon anyway?”

“he took me to get some ice cream, he actually remembers my favorite taste”

“yeah i saw on your instagram story, if i didn’t happen to know that this is all fake i’d actually believe it” she said teasingly.

“can’t believe i’m saying this but” you sighed, “he’s not that bad to hang out with”

you expected a reply from her right away but all you heard was silence.

“karina?”

“i can’t believe this conversation is not being recorded” she finally spoke.

“forget that i said tha—“ “no no no! please continue”

“well….he was actually super nice and even paid for my ice cream, even found a nice spot and brought me his jacket since it was starting to get cold” you said calmly.

“y/n”

“hm?”

“you might end up falling in love with him instead of taesan” she said and you scoffed.

“are you forgetting that he literally ruined my life?”

“i said what i said!” she argued.

eventually you ended the call and drifted off to dreamland.

“so….”

a few days passed since you revealed your (fake) relationship and today was the first day you sat with seven other people at your lunch table.

“you and sunghoo—“

“stop it”

“sunghoon and yo—“

“shut it!”

sunghoon’s friends tried to ease up the awkward situation but were shut off by you and sunghoon.

“we just think it’s weird that’s all!! it’ll pass sooner or later” jay chuckled.

“so y/n, how’s life?” riki asked.

“seriously?” sunghoon raised his brow.

“babe, it’s okay,” you almost gagged after using the nickname on sunghoon, “life’s fun, you never know which surprises awaits for you”

you raised sunghoon’s hand and showed everyone your locked hands.

“ew, don’t need to use those nicknames and act all cheesy here” jake teased.

“you wanted to meet my girlfriend didn’t you? here she is” sunghoon spoke.

that’s when it got to you. sunghoon lied to his friends about having a girlfriend! why did he choose you though? out of hundreds of students.

“you’re right” heeseung nodded, “if you already know each other so well, why don’t we ask you questions about sunghoon and you answer?”

“baby you don’t have to—“ “it’s okay, hit me with the questions”

“sunghoon’s favorite color?”

“white”

“his favorite season”

“used to be winter, it’s autumn now”

“favorite ice cream flavor?”

“um” you froze for a second.

“ah ha! got you”

“coffee”

“aw man, you suck!” riki said in disappointment after you answered all the questions correctly.

sunghoon in the meantime was busy staring at you and daydreaming.

when did you become so pretty? with your cute eyes that lit up every time you answered a question correctly, and your lips that formed into a smile when you noticed you won over his friend’s questions.

how come you remember those details about him as well?

he had tons of questions, but curse his inability to communicate well, he’ll probably leave those questions unanswered.

the only thing he does know, is that he’s scared to fall in love with you.

“babe? are you ready to go? let me walk you to the field now, you have practice”

you called him and he zoned out, for a second there he really forgot this is all fake.

the way you’d look at him and call him babe, it made him feel so weird, he had never felt like that before.

“yeah” he slightly nodded and got up.

when both of you arrived at the field he stopped in front of you and frowned.

“what if i’ll just take you on a date instead of practice?” he asked.

“sunghoon what the fuck? we’re all alone here nobody sees you, you don’t need to act all lovey dovey” you snapped back.

“right” he said, almost sounding too disappointed.

“i’ll go back now to the library, taesan’s waiting” you smiled and started walking away.

“pull yourself together sunghoon” he sighed and entered the field.

“hey” you called taesan as you saw him already sitting at your usual library desk.

“hey y/n!” he called you back excitedly.

“missed being with you after school, i went on too many dates with sunghoon lately” you sighed.

“yeah” he whispered, you could hear a bit of disappointment in his voice but he shrugged it off quickly, “hey how about instead of studying we’ll go hang out, i got pretty tired of reading today”

“sure! of course, i would love to!!” you excitedly replied.

taesan got up and held your hand, “let’s go watch some movies”

practice ended and sunghoon went straight to the library without even showering first. he couldn’t wait telling you how his friends couldn’t stop talking about you and praising your (again, fake) relationship.

he looked at the clock and it was usually around the time you and taesan would finish and get out, only this time you were nowhere to be found.

sunghoon started to freak out, what if something bad happened to you? did taesan leave you alone? what if he did something bad to you?

no, no. sunghoon was just freaking out.

he tried calling you, but your phone was turned off, you weren’t available.

he ran all the way to your home and asked your mother if she happened to see you, but got a negative answer.

“why, is she missing?” your mother asked and tried to stay calm.

“no of course not!” sunghoon awkwardly said, “we’re just playing hide and seek that’s all, i was wondering if she walked all the way here to hide in her room”

seriously sunghoon? that’s the best thing you got?

“alright, have fun!” it seemed like it made your mom believe him!

“y/n where the fuck are you?” he whispered to himself.

he decided to call taesan, “if he’s not answering i swea—“

“hey dude, what’s up?” his friend on the other line answered calmly.

“do you happen to know where y/n is?” he straightforwardly asked.

“yeah, she’s right next to me, didn’t she tell you we’re going to watch some movies?” taesan’s voice stayed calm but on the inside he was smirking.

taesan 1, sunghoon 0.

“she probably forgot or something” sunghoon giggled, “when do you plan on coming back?”

“don’t know, but don’t worry dude, i’ll make sure she gets home safely”

“yeah, okay” sunghoon said and ended the call.

“who was that?” you asked.

“your boyfriend, didn’t you tell him we’re here?”

“oh no, i forgot about it”

“yeah he was worried sick”

“i think we should head back now” you let out a sigh.

“okay, sure” he nodded and both of you got up.

you don’t know why you said it instead of staying the whole night just watching random movies with your longtime crush.

what the hell did this fake dating with sunghoon do to you?

taesan walked you until it was already safe for you to walk alone, you argued with him that it’s fine and your house was a minute away, he tried insisting but you didn’t budge.

both of you knew why you wanted to walk over to your house alone.

sunghoon 1, taesan 1.

you really tried using you muscle memory and walk to your door with your eyes closed so you won’t have to meet with—

“well who do we have here”

“i really didn’t want to see you here now” you sighed and opened your eyes.

“i was worried sick! why didn’t you just send me a text or whatever?” he spit out and you never really realized how irritating his voice is until now.

“what are you? my mom? why do i have to tell you my whereabouts?” you snapped.

“we’re dating, of course—“ “hell no we’re not, this whole thing is fake and you know it, i dont owe you shit, park”

for the first time sunghoon was stunned and speechless because of you. he did not know what to say or even process what the hell just happened. and why the fuck was he so annoyed by you going to the movies with taesan?

“if you dont have anything to say just go” you sighed and just like that he left.

you finally got inside your room and laid on your bed, thinking about your last events and how stupid it was of you to go home early because of that fucking rat who was ‘worried’ over you.

your phone buzzed and when you looked at the caller ID you smiled.

“just checking that you arrived safely”

“i’m not a five years old kid taesan,” you chuckled and got up to sit on the edge of your bed, “besides, it was a minute walk from where you left me”

“alright, was just checking if you were still alive” he giggled.

“hey taesan”

“hm?”

“let’s hang out more, i had real fun today”

“all i was just asking is for you to text me if there’s a change of plans! i was really worried because i knew i had to pick you up but you were nowhere to be seen” that is how your morning started, for the past few days it because a routine for you to have a morning and after school walk with sunghoon, and each morning you’d have a little fight.

this time, even though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“you’re right, i should’ve told you beforehand, i just got super excited to go out with taesan so i forgot about it, besides you’re supposed to be happy for me, i’m finally getting closer to my crush” you huffed.

“thank you, and yeah, i’m super happy” he rolled his eyes and you nodded.

“another thing, heeseung’s brother is having a wedding in less than a month and we have to go there together, as a couple” he said, “after the wedding we’ll plan the break up and will part our ways”

“sounds like a plan to me” you shrugged.

“no matter what happens, please just show up to his brother’s wedding, i think heeseung already favors you so much, he always did but i always warned him not to get too close to you”

“obviously you did” you rolled your eyes, “but i will do it, for him and for his happiness”

“thank you” he said sincerely.

“wow, didnt know you could be genuine”

“just shut up and continue to walk”

two weeks passed and as much as you hate to admit it, dating sunghoon park isn’t something that bad.

you went to all kinds of ‘dates’ together, that one amusement park date was your favorite.

“no no no no! don’t go too high, y/n hold my hand tight!” he yelled on one of the roller coasters you forced him to get on, “i think i’m gonna throw up oh no, here it comes! i hate it here”

while he was busy yelling, you were busy laughing your ass off at him. he was cute, you admit.

it reminded you of that time you went to an amusement park together when you were kids, he remained the same, nothing changed.

as you got tired of the amusement park, he took you to a restaurant and both of you sat one in front of the other.

“i like it here, this place is designed so beautifully” you said.

“not as beautiful as you” he mumbled.

“hm?” you asked and he shook his head, “nothing”

“you know, it wasn’t so bad today, i really had fun” he started speaking, “reminded me of our childhood”

“yeah, i thought about that too” you nodded.

“i kinda miss it” i kinda miss you, he wanted to say, but he felt like it’d be too much.

sunghoon that day realized his strong feelings for you never left, and probably never will. your past antics were long forgotten and all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and tell you how much he loves you, and he have always had.

“i kinda miss it too” you replied and it was like an unspoken tension between the two of you.

none of you would talk after that and just walked home in silence, but it was a comforting one.

“girl, he’s super like, into you, and you’re so like, into him too” karina said after you told her about the amusement park date.

“am not! i’ve been actually going out with taesan a lot, i really really like him” you smiled.

“whatever you say girl!”

“i actually am going to hang out with taesan today, i’ll update you on everything, bye bae” you smiled and ended the call to get ready for your hangout with taesan.

an hour later he sent you a text that he’s already waiting and you got out of your house right away.

“you look, really pretty” taesan was being so stunned by your beauty that he forgot how to talk.

“thank you” you smiled, “so, where are we going?”

“a new arcade just opened and i know how much you love arcades so i just thought of testing it out”

“oh my god you really do know me so well!!” you took out your phone to text sunghoon about your whereabouts.

you became more responsible and it suddenly didn’t bother you as much to text him about it, it almost became a habit of you.

‘off to the new arcade that opened up with taesan, don’t you worry about me’ you texted him and closed your phone.

as you arrived your eyes roamed around the big arcade and suddenly you looked like a five years old child who just got their first ever vanilla ice cream.

“what are we waiting for? let’s just go!!” taesan cheered and you clapped.

after hours and hours of playing you both went to sit down by the nearest park there.

“it was so fun today, we have to do it again!” you grinned and taesan nodded.

it suddenly became so quiet and you noticed taesan was staring at you for too long.

“are you okay?”

“i know about you and sunghoon,” he spoke, “about your fake dating thing”

you were too stunned to speak.

“i heard you arguing on the same day we went to the movies, i wanted to check on you if you arrived safely but i noticed you and sunghoon talking and i couldn’t help but eavesdrop” he shrugged.

“oh” was all you could let out.

“i was actually glad to find out that this whole thing with you and sunghoon was fake”

“what do you mea—“ “i like you y/n, a lot” he cut you middle sentence and you felt so weird hearing his confession.

“oh! there you are!” before you could even respond to taesan you heard a voice calling the both of you.

you turned around and saw the one and only, park sunghoon. what was he doing here?

a few days ago taesan asked to meet up with sunghoon. he confessed to him about knowing your fake relationship and told sunghoon he was going to confess to you.

“i like y/n, a lot, you already know that” he said.

“what’s your plan?” sunghoon asked.

“asking her out after going to that new arcade” he exposed his plan, and sunghoon’s cue to stop the confession was a simple text from you about your whereabouts.

sunghoon for the second time chose to be a shitty and egoistic ass friend, and prevent his so called ‘best friend’ from confessing to you.

but of course sunghoon wouldn’t tell you all of that.

“me and y/n were planning to go on a date today! i guess she forgot” sunghoon smirked.

“cut it sunghoon, i know you’re not really dating” taesan clenched his jaw.

“doesn’t matter, i still made us a reservation for this new restaurant” sunghoon rolled his eyes and dragged you away.

you were too shocked by the whole scene that only when you arrived back to your home you realized what happened.

“did you just—” you sighed, “ruined my fucking chance with taesan?” you felt your blood starting to boil.

“what do you mean?” he asked confused.

“taesan just fucking confessed and you just fucking showed up and dragged me away, what the fuck were you thinking?” you shout.

“y/n i—“

“you what, sunghoon? want to ruin my life once again? just like you did with my painting from seventh grade and my crush from eighth grade?” you snapped.

“you seriously still hold that against me? we were in seventh grade for god’s sake!”

“and it ruined my life ever since then! did you become your family’s disappointment? because i did, oh! and funny enough, not only that seventh grade made them disappointed in me, but also my stupid crush on eighth grade that you decided to snitch on!” you looked at him in disbelief.

“what about my crush from nineth grade then, huh? not only you lied to her and told her i spread the rumors about her, you made me look like the bad guy and the other students refused to talk to me for months! you basically made everyone back away from me!”

“and rightfully so” you rolled your eyes.

“y/n, look” sunghoon ran his hands through his hair and sighed,

“save it park, i don’t want to hear from you ever again, i had a blast ignoring you for the last few years and i’ll continue having a blast if it’ll continue that way” you lied through your teeth, “we’ll only talk when necessary and cut ties after heeseung’s brother’s wedding”

“y/n” sunghoon called you again but you already walked away and entered your house.

sunghoon knows he fucked up, and he realized there were so many miscommunications between the two of you over the past few years and he didn’t know how to fix it.

meanwhile you, the minute you stepped inside your room and closed the door, you started crying.

you didn’t know how to feel with yourself. you were glad that sunghoon cut you off before you could answer taesan, because surprisingly so, you were about to reject him.

taesan is a nice guy, he really is, and he really was your longtime crush, until your old crush entered your life again.

you realized you gained back your feelings the moment sunghoon opened his mouth to genuinely talk with you, in fact, those feelings never really left.

you found yourself so focused on the way that his dimples would always show while smiling and talking to you, or the way his fangs would show up with every smile he gives you.

but you couldn’t help but let your blood boil after his whole ‘i’m not going to let y/n have another chance with someone’ show, it made you think about your past and you hated it.

the next few weeks felt normal to everyone but you, sunghoon and taesan.

you and sunghoon acted as if nothing happened between the two of you when someone you know happened to be around.

when you two were alone? hell, you won’t even shoot a glance at him.

and as for you and taesan, you told him it’d be better if the both of you would take a short break for a while, just for you to adjust everything.

sunghoon refused to let go of you so easily once again, he tried everything, calling, texting, even calling your parents to ask if you were home and maybe they can tell you to pick your constantly ringing phone up.

it all felt like a deja vu now, but not the good one. you were getting distant again and it scared him that the same thing will happen yet again.

“thank you for coming” sunghoon welcomed the person into his house.

“why are you so stressed? oh no don’t tell me you got someone pregnant”

“jay, i sometimes wonder if your last braincells are just off to go travel or something” sunghoon groaned.

“well, you seem so tense, what is it?”

sunghoon decided to tell jay everything from A to Z, they’ve been best friends for long and he feels like he can trust him wholeheartedly, plus he had to get some help from someone.

“i knew it the moment you told me both of you are dating! it felt so unreal”

“thanks a lot jay, it really helps”

“well, i think im getting a little deja vu for eighth grade”

“exactly! i don’t want this to happen again! i know i fucked up but i….” sunghoon sighed, “i’m willing to do everything as long as i won’t lose her”

“okay first of all, ew dude that’s so cringy” jay said in disgust, “second, i think you just need to give her some time, i’m sure that if you still haven’t heard about her and taesan dating, she might as well was about to reject him”

“then why would she get so angry at me? it doesn’t make sense”

“you took a whole ass opportunity from her to try and sort her things out, of course she’d be pissed”

“right”

“try to talk with karina maybe, she might help you out on this one” jay pat his friend’s shoulder, “besides, the wedding is in a few days and you told me you made her promise you to show up no matter what, it’s not like she can run away from you for long”

“i hate that you’re so right” sunghoon groaned and jay shrugged, “i’m just saying whatever comes to my mind, whenever it comes to my mind”

“what do you want, park?”

“wow you really sound like y/n now” sunghoon sighed as he saw karina looking at him uninterested, “i guess she already told you what happened”

“yes, she did” she also told me she’s scared because she actually has feelings for you, she wanted to say. but its not her place to say it anyway.

“how….is she doing?” he asked quietly.

“why do you care?”

“oh no please don’t make it harder than it already is” he mumbled under his breath.

“because, i need to talk with her, a serious conversation”

“oh no don’t tell me you caught feelings”

“how did you— nevermind, please tell her that i’ll be waiting for her, and i really want to sort things out between us” he sounded so desperate it scared karina.

“i’ll see what i can do” karina nodded and he bit his lips and smiled.

“thank you, thank you, thank you, thank—“ “i get it you can go now!”

he nodded as he got his bag and went for another practice.

“hey bae how are you doing today?” karina hugged you as she sat on your bed.

ever since your last encounter with sunghoon you started missing a few classes here and there, you didn’t really feel like going to school and seeing sunghoon anyway. that’s why karina came to check up on you.

“same as usual, i don’t know”

“i know what you’re thinking” she said and you looked at her creeped out.

“relax, it’s nothing scary” she laughed, “i just know you’re thinking about him”

“am not!” you argued.

“yeah, and i’m queen elizabeth”

you can’t stop thinking about sunghoon, she wasn’t lying really.

you realized how messed up your whole story was. you need answers from him, you need the apology you’ve been waiting to hear, the confirmation that he misses you as much as you miss him. you need to hold him tight and never let him go again.

“fine, you got me” you sighed.

you wish you’d know how to sort things out without going crazy.

“he came up to me today,” she said and your eyes sparkled, “he asked me about you, he’s been so desperate to talk with you, he looked and sounded really sincere”

“i don’t know karina, i’m not sure if i’m ready to face him without getting angry again, it’s just that whenever i see him my blood just starts to boil when i think about our past”

“that’s your problem, you refuse to let go of your past” she put her hand on your shoulder, “just let it go, and get the answers and confirmation you need from him”

you decided not to show up at school ever since your conversation with karina.

sunghoon tried checking up on you multiple times but each time you’d lie to your mother who opened the door for him and told her to tell him that you’re sick. both of you knew it was wrong.

sunghoon was going crazy, his friends couldn’t stop asking about you and about your whereabouts and he could only lie and say that you’ve got really sick and that he’s been taking care of you.

he asked karina about you again and again, until she got tired and told him everything, about your wellbeing and your health.

he was so worried for you it surprised her, he was really acting as if he’s your real boyfriend.

karina would lie if she said she didn’t confuse him as your boyfriend for a while.

“here” sunghoon handed karina a notebook.

“what’s that?” she asked.

“i took some notes on this class, give it to y/n please”

“sunghoon, i’m not some kind of—“

“i know i know you’re not a delivery guy but, i don’t know how to give it to her in any other way” he sighed.

oh the poor guy, she really pities him.

wedding day came and sunghoon was going back and forth in his room.

will you be coming? should he pick you up? you promised him! if not for him then for heeseung!

at the end, jay called him and told him it was becoming too late and he should just come without you.

sunghoon left his house with a heavy heart and empty hands, that were supposed to hold you tightly and close to him.

“hey hoon! you came!!” heeseung welcomed his friend with a hug and a big smile over his face.

“where’s y/n?” he asked.

“oh y/n, she really wanted to come but—“ “but what?” he was cut off by someone else.

when he looked over his shoulder he found you, walking over to them and putting your hands together on sunghoon’s right shoulder.

“i was getting ready and it took me too long to come, so i just told sunghoon to go away so he won’t be late because of me” you smiled and planted a kiss on sunghoon’s cheek.

“i’m so glad you came!!” heeseung smiled widely and hugged you tightly.

sunghoon was still shocked seeing you there, first you walked in, looking gorgeous than ever in the outfit you put on yourself, then you went and put your hands over his shoulder and lastly, you kiss his cheek.

he froze and zoned out for a few seconds until you waved your hands in front of him.

“let’s get in! it’s about to start” you were about to walk in but sunghoon was quick enough to pull you back to him.

he was holding your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“first, you walk in here, looking prettier than any other person here, no offense to the bride, then you smile and kiss my cheeks. i don’t understand, what’s happening?” he asked, his face is closer than ever to yours.

“i don’t want to open it up now—“ “if not now then when?”

you sighed and closed your eyes.

“i only have one question”

“shoot”

“did you really regret what you did back then?”

“of course i did, i still do” he reached your hand to hold it, “look at where it got us”

“why did you ruin my chance with my crush back then?”

“you said only one question”

“okay so maybe now i have more”

“i did it,” sunghoon stayed quiet for a second, is this the right time to confess? “because i really liked you, and i still do” fuck it.

“when we started to fake dating i realized those feelings never left, everytime i look at you i just cant help it but smile, i think it’s way beyond just ‘like you’, i love you y/n” he let go of his hold on your waist and held both of your hands in his.

you stopped breathing for a second as you tried to process what you just heard.

“park sunghoon” you whispered and he hummed.

“i’m here baby”

“i hate you” you said and sunghoon could swear his heart dropped.

“i hate you for making me hate you so much to the point it ruined our friendship for so long” you continued, “you could’ve confessed your feelings and we could’ve been the best highschool couple by now”

sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows, he got so confused by your words.

“if you still didn’t get it, i happen to love you too, you dumbass” you laughed.

without giving you a warning he pulled you into a kiss with a big grin on his face.

it was a desperate kiss, as if he was waiting to do this for so long. both of you didn’t want to part away but you did eventually because of the lack of oxygen.

“i can’t believe we fucked this up because of this stupid painting in seventh grade” that was the first thing he said afterwards.

“you fucked this up and it’s not just a stupid painting!!” you argued and he laughed as he hugged you tightly.

“i’m joking, i’m really sorry for that, and for the crush thing in eighth grade too” he grinned, “but he was just not good for you, you had me the whole time and still wanted him”

you kissed him again and smiled.

“i was too blind i guess”

“can you two cut it off lovebirds? the wedding is about to start” both of you turned your heads and saw annoyed jay standing in front of you.

“sorry! coming” both of you said at the same time.

as you sat one next to each other, sunghoon interlocked your fingers together.

“hey” he whispered and you hummed.

“hearing ‘i love you’ from you really warmed my heart” he smiled, “just letting you know”

“oh really?” you asked and he nodded.

“i love you” you kissed his cheek.

“i’ll keep saying this until you’ll get tired of it”

“which is basically never”

jay groaned and turned to look at the both of you “can you please just stop being so lovey dovey oh my god”

“you were exactly like that on your first days with your girlfriend stop being such an attention seeker” jake rolled his eyes and jay hit him.

“shhhh!! why don’t we just pay attention to heeseung that’s crying right there?”

“just took a picture! will definitely use it to blackmail him!”

“poor little thing only wanted to get emotional in his brother’s wedding”

“soon to be us at sunghoon’s and y/n’s wedding”

and they lived happily ever after! i mean, as much as you can when you have those six people as your friends and karina’s nonstop questions about future kids.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @jjeoni-7 @dimplewonie (bold means cannot be tagged)

[killerplink]

TRAINING

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Female Reader

Plot: A training session with Dick gets out of hand. He's sweaty, you're desperate, and the Batcave's gym mat ends up being put to much better use.

Words: way too many because I'm a horny bish who can't help herself ✋🏻

A/N: Kept reading and rereading @neontiger 's version of Jason (link here, because missing out on this hotness should be illegal) like a woman possessed, and naturally, my brain went, "But what if... Dick?" So here we are. Thank you for the delicious inspo, bestie!! 🏃🏻‍♀️

You groan as the blanket is rudely yanked away, making you shiver at the loss of warmth. But before you can even think about grabbing it back, Dick wraps himself around you like a human blanket instead. Bare chest warm against your back, one strong arm hooking around your waist, pulling you snug against him. And then come the kisses. Soft, sweet, pressing along your temple, your cheek, your jaw, everywhere he can reach, like he's trying to butter you up.

"Baby," you mutter, burrowing deeper into the mattress. "Too early."

"Too early?" he echoes, his voice all mock offense as he shifts. "Sweet girl, it's nine-thirty."

You groan again, wiggling, trying to get away, but he just holds you tighter, one leg slinging over yours, caging you in.

"Mmm, nope," he hums against your skin, lips moving lower, trailing down the side of your throat. "No escape."

"Dick," you whine, blindly reaching for the blanket he stole, but he just laughs, keeping it out of reach.

You regret everything. Mostly, you regret what you said yesterday. Because yesterday, you were feeling good, work stress melting away after finally getting some time off, and you let yourself be tricked into agreeing to this.

To be fair, it's not unusual for you and Dick to train together. Sometimes you'll join him at the gym, sometimes you'll go on a morning run, and sometimes, when he's sparring in the Batcave, you'll do your own exercises off to the side, watching him work up a sweat as you pretend to stretch.

But this week? This week has been long. You're exhausted. And all you want is to relax, to sleep in, to take it easy, to enjoy your weekend without any training, sweating, or being tackled to the mat by your six foot menace of a boyfriend.

And yet, here you are.

"Too damn early," you whine in protest, rolling onto your stomach and dragging a pillow over your head like it might protect you from your relentless man.

Dick laughs, completely unfazed by your dramatics. Instead of backing off, he steals the pillow too, tossing it to the floor before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his bare chest.

"Nine-thirty is early, huh?" he teases, fingers slipping under your sleep shirt, brushing absent-minded circles against your stomach. "You were all talk yesterday, my love."

"I was delusional yesterday."

He laughs, warm and fond, his lips trailing over your shoulder, lingering before he presses another soft, lazy kiss.

"C'mon," he murmurs, his voice dropping just slightly, smooth as honey. "The Batcave's empty. Begging for us to use it."

You groan, curling up tighter.

"Oh, baby," he coos, teasing, mouth moving up to the shell of your ear. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

You try to squirm away, but he won't let you, just laughs against your skin, one arm keeping you firmly pinned while his lips wander, pressing to that one spot on your neck, the one that always makes you shiver.

"Dick," you whine, smacking at his arm, voice still drowsy. "I just got time off work. I don't wanna train, I wanna relax."

"Hmmm," he pretends to consider it, but you know he's not done yet. He never gives up easy. And sure enough—

"Come with me and I'll take you somewhere nice for dinner tonight."

That makes you pause. Not that it's unusual for Dick to take you on weekly dates even after all this time, but still, you turn your head just enough to glare at him, squinting.

"Somewhere nice nice?"

The corners of his lips twitch, like he knows exactly where your mind went. He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, grinning when you don't pull away.

"Promise," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You think about it for a second, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along his bicep. You've been dying to try that one new restaurant—the one with the ridiculous waiting list that stretches out for months—but unless you get insanely lucky, there's no way you're getting in anytime soon.

Your eyes narrow slightly. "Okay. But only if you get us into that new restaurant I want."

His grin turns downright smug. "Consider it done."

But you squint at him, already suspicious. "...you're making Bruce pull the strings, aren't you?"

He laughs, tipping your chin up and kissing you, soft and sweet, his breath warm against your lips. "Bet. It's the least he can do sometimes."

And, well... you just know you're gonna eat good tonight.

You lie there for a few more minutes, basking in the warmth of the bed, but you know if you don't get up soon, Dick's gonna manhandle you out of it himself. So with a deep, suffering sigh, you finally drag yourself upright, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you shuffle to the bathroom.

The bright light makes you grimace—ugh, too early. But you push through, reaching for your toothbrush, going through the motions as you blink groggily at your reflection.

Next comes skincare, your hands moving on autopilot. A splash of water, a gentle cleanser, a bit of moisturizer. Then, concealer, just enough to hide how tired you look, and your brows, brushing them into place because, yeah, you might be about to get your ass handed to you in the Batcave, but that's no excuse to look messy. Except... your hair.

You groan, tilting your head, staring at it in frustration.

You washed it last night, and because you were too lazy to dry it properly, now it's sticking out in, like, twenty different directions—half of it flattened weirdly, the other half frizzy as hell.

You glare at it, fingers raking through the strands, debating whether to just throw it up in a ponytail and hope for the best. But no. No, you can do better. Braids. Two cute little braids.

You part your hair quickly, fingers working on autopilot as you twist the strands together, securing them into two neat tails, way more presentable than the disaster from earlier.

You admire yourself for a second, pleased, before you leave the bathroom and head back to the bedroom, only to come to a dead stop. Because Dick?

Dick is already getting dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed as he puts on his socks. And he looks so good.

The kind of good that makes your stomach flip, that makes you forget why you're even leaving the house, that makes you think maybe you could convince him to just... stay home. Because God.

He's in a fitted compression shirt—black, short-sleeved, clinging to his chest and arms, the fabric molding perfectly over muscle. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, sitting just right, loose and comfortable but still showing enough that your brain immediately starts short circuiting.

He pushes a hand through his hair, his biceps flexing, and... yeah. Yeah, maybe training can wait. You could definitely stay home. You could definitely pull him back into bed, climb into his lap, and—

Before you can finish the thought, he glances up, lips twitching in amusement, like he knows exactly what's going through your pretty little mind.

Then he steps forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before murmuring, "I'm gonna go put my shoes on and wait for you in the living room, baby."

And just like that, the moment is gone. You sigh as he walks off, leaving you alone in the bedroom, your brain still running through every way you could possibly lure him back.

But no. You promised. So, with a grumble, you shuffle to your side of the closet, fishing out a pair of leggings—high waisted, snatching you up perfectly—a matching sports bra, and a fitted t-shirt.

After slipping them on, you pause in front of the mirror, smoothing a hand over your stomach, turning slightly to check yourself out. Yep. You look good. And if you're going to get thrown around today, you might as well look hot doing it.

Before heading out, you detour to Dick's side of the closet, grabbing one of his hoodies, a habit you've never bothered breaking, because why would you? His hoodies are big, soft, and they smell like him—a mix of clean laundry, soap, and something distinctly him.

By the time you make it to the living room, he's already sprawled on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, scrolling through his phone with that effortless kind of ease that makes your stomach flip. He looks so good, all relaxed and stupidly hot in that fitted shirt, and for a second, you almost forget what you were about to do.

But you recover quickly, stepping up to him and tossing the hoodie onto his lap before leaning down to kiss him.

"Hold my hoodie for me a little, yeah?"

He chuckles, his lips curling into a smirk against yours as his hand slides down to your ass, giving it a playful slap.

"You mean my hoodie," he corrects.

"Same thing," you murmur, pulling away before he can deepen the kiss, just to be annoying.

He watches you as you turn away, amusement flickering in his bright blue eyes, but you don't miss the way they drift, the way his gaze naturally follows the curve of your ass as you move toward the hallway.

And that's when you decide, why not push him a little further? Just a little. Just to see how much self control he really has. So, when you reach for your shoes, you do it slowly, deliberately bending over, giving him the full view of your ass, the tight stretch of your leggings leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

And oh, you know he's watching. You can feel his gaze burning into you, can practically hear the way his breath hitches, the second he makes the mistake of looking.

Because holy fucking shit, you're not playing fair. He knows you're doing it on purpose, knows you're teasing him, but God, it doesn't matter, because the second his eyes land on you, his brain short circuits.

Your leggings are so fucking tight, hugging every curve of your ass, accentuating the dip of your waist, the length of your legs, the way your muscles flex as you adjust your stance. And worse? The position you're in, it's like you're presenting yourself to him, back arched just enough, like you're asking for him to come up behind you, press his hands to your hips, and—

No. Nope. He needs to stop thinking like that. Needs to think about anything else before his dick gets the wrong idea.

So he clenches his jaw, forces his gaze upward, tries to focus on literally anything that isn't the fact that you are perfectly bent over in front of him, wearing the tightest fucking leggings known to man.

Taxes. The Gotham Knights losing. The last time Jason ate a chili dog in the Batmobile and nearly got murdered for it.

But none of it works, because you are right there, your ass right there, and he suddenly regrets everything. And you? You know exactly what you're doing, taking your sweet time tying your laces, shifting your weight just enough to make the fabric pull tighter.

Fuck. Dick shifts, jaw tight, exhaling slowly through his nose as he wills his body to calm the fuck down. This is fine. He can handle this.

He's a grown ass man, he's trained his body to withstand pain, he can absolutely resist the urge to grab your hips and grind against you until you're both panting. Probably.

When you finally straighten up, you glance at him over your shoulder, lips twitching like you know exactly what you just did. And all he can do is swallow down the heat rising in his chest, exhaling sharply as he leans back against the couch, feigning casual indifference.

Except he's not casual. He is fighting for his life.

But you don't give him a second to recover. Because next, you're grabbing your little backpack, stuffing it with water bottles and a few granola bars from the pantry.

And Dick? Dick takes the opportunity to get a little revenge. Because if you're gonna tease him, then he's gonna return the favor.

Every time you reach for something, he finds a reason to move behind you, brushing against your ass, his touch just light enough to be accidental.

But you know it's not. You know exactly what he's doing. And you refuse to acknowledge it. Because this is his fault.

He wanted to train instead of staying home and fucking you? Well, he's in for a treat.

A few minutes later, you're perched on the back of Dick's bike, adjusting the new helmet he got for you. Custom made, of course, because he never does things halfway. This one is sleek, perfectly fitted to your head, and worst—or best—of all, it has cat ears.

"Really?" you deadpan as you poke at them.

He grins, sliding his own helmet on. "You love it."

You huff, but yeah. Yeah, you do love it, even if you won't admit it out loud.

With one smooth motion, he swings his leg over the bike, settling into the front seat. The second he's in place, you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing yourself against his back.

"Ready, baby?"

You nod, giving him a squeeze, and the bike rumbles to life beneath you, and oh, God, that sound is so hot.

The streets of Gotham are uncharacteristically light on traffic today, which means one thing: Dick is putting on a show. He leans into every turn effortlessly, weaving through the roads with a confidence that makes your stomach flip, the sheer control in his movements making you hold tighter onto him.

And he knows it.

He knows exactly what he's doing, showing off just to feel the way your fingers tighten around his torso, the way your breath catches when he accelerates, taking full advantage of Gotham's rare lack of traffic.

By the time you finally reach the Batcave, your grip on him is ironclad, and he's grinning under his helmet. He pulls smoothly into the luxurious underground lair, parking the bike with a level of ease that makes you want to roll your eyes.

The second he cuts the engine, he shifts, tugging off his helmet before turning to you.

"Alright, sweet girl, c'mere," he murmurs, reaching for you.

You let him help you off, rolling your shoulders as he gently unclasps your helmet, pulling it from your head with so much care, as if it's some delicate thing. Then, without missing a beat, he cups your face and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You hum against him, then pull back just enough to narrow your eyes at him.

"Showing off much?" you ask, raising a brow.

His lips curl, not even pretending to deny it. "Did it work?"

You huff, fighting back a smile. Yeah. Yeah, it worked. It always works. He grins, taking your hand and tugging you toward the sparring room.

Now, despite being called a sparring room, the space itself is borderline excessive, but then again, Bruce built it, so of course it is.

Half of it is a high tech training area—sleek mats, an entire section dedicated to weapons, a reinforced wall for target practice, and state-of-the-art tech monitoring every possible performance metric.

The other half?

A fully equipped gym, the kind of setup that would make even professional athletes jealous. There's a ridiculous range of equipment, a custom built treadmill that can handle inhuman speeds, racks of weights, punching bags, and even a climbing wall.

It's the epitome of form meets function—practical as hell but still exuding the kind of wealth only someone like Bruce Wayne could casually throw at a training room.

And right now? It's completely empty, just as Dick promised.

He leads you to the gym side, fingers laced with yours, guiding you toward a nearby bench. The second you sit down, you immediately pull out a granola bar from your backpack, peeling the wrapper with zero hesitation.

Dick snorts, crossing his arms as he watches you take the first bite. "Really?"

"What?" you mumble around your mouthful. "You dragged me here. Least I can do is have a snack first."

He chuckles, shaking his head as he kneels to retie one of his sneakers. "Fine, fine. Get your pre-workout in."

You roll your eyes, finishing off the bar while he straightens up, reaching for his arms to gently tug him closer. He hums, allowing it, and you press your forehead against his stomach for a moment, breathing him in, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.

It's comforting, being here with him, wrapped in the familiarity of his warmth. His hand comes up, fingers brushing gently over your braids before resting against the back of your head.

"You good, baby?"

You nod against him. "Yeah. Just stealing some energy before you kick my ass."

That makes him laugh, a soft, throaty sound that vibrates through his core. "C'mon, sweet girl," he murmurs, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Let's start with some stretches."

You groan, but let him pull you up, following him onto one of the mats. And that's where the real trouble starts.

Because yeah, stretching is important, but why the fuck does he have to look like that while doing it? You drop into a lunge, arms reaching over your head, but your eyes immediately flick to him, to the way his muscles shift so fluidly as he raises his arms, tilting to one side, then the other. The dip of his waist, the flex of his biceps, the subtle little furrow in his brow as he concentrates. You swallow, quickly averting your gaze before he catches you.

Dick, however, is having a similar problem.

Because he knows—knows—you look good in tight clothes. He's been with you long enough to have that fact permanently ingrained in his brain.

But something about you in gym clothes, stretched out on the mat, moving so effortlessly as you go through your routine... it's really fucking distracting. He wants to focus, but every time you reach for your toes, your leggings pull just a little tighter around your thighs. Every time you twist your torso, the curve of your waist becomes painfully obvious.

And when you drop into a seated stretch, legs spread apart as you reach forward, touching your hands to the mat—

He looks away, running a hand through his hair, forcing his mind onto something else.

Training. Right. That's why you're here. Training, not staring at you like a teenager seeing their first pair of tits.

He thinks for a moment, considering their options. "Let's start easy. Some bodyweight exercises."

You shrug. "Sounds good, baby."

And so, the real workout begins, simple at first. A few rounds of squats, lunges, and push ups. Some core work. Even a bit of light shadowboxing.

But the problem?

Neither of you can stop stealing glances at the other. Because yeah, the Batcave's gym is nice. Top tier, expensive as hell, better than the majority of Gotham's gyms. But it's nothing compared to the view.

By the time you and Dick make it to the sparring mats, you're already sweaty, your body warm from the workout. Your muscles are loose, and honestly? You're feeling pretty damn good. That is, until you realize what exactly he's suggesting.

"Sparring?" you echo, eyeing him skeptically as he stretches his arms over his head. "With you?"

He grins. "Scared, my love?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes even as your pulse kicks up. "Oh, please."

But internally? Yeah, you're feeling the slightest flutter of nerves, not because you think he'd hurt you—he'd rather die—but because you know exactly what sparring with him means.

It means his hands all over you, gripping, steady, possessive. It means bodies tangling together, muscles flexing and straining, sweat slicked skin brushing in ways that are not at all good for self control.

And after an entire morning of watching him, of feeling him, of listening to every low groan and quiet grunt he makes while working out, his jaw tight with concentration, his shirt clinging to his chest in a way that should be illegal—yeah, you're in trouble. But you refuse to back down.

"Alright," you say, shaking out your arms, rolling your shoulders. "Let's do it."

His grin widens, eyes darkening just a fraction. "That's my girl."

The first round starts off easy—a warm up more than anything. He lets you get used to the rhythm, lets you test the give and take of each strike, each block. You counter, dodge, try to anticipate his movements, but he's so damn quick, it's like trying to fight a shadow.

He doesn't just react, he predicts. Every time you move, he's already a step ahead, his body fluid and controlled, striking with the kind of effortless precision that makes you realize just how out of your depth you are.

Or maybe it's just the fact that your boyfriend is also a vigilante and has years of circus acrobatics behind him, his body trained for this in ways yours never could be. He moves like it's second nature, like he was made for this—because, in a way, he was.

Still, you're holding your own. For the first few minutes, at least. But then? Then he grabs you.

It happens fast. One second, you're slipping out of the way of a jab, the next, he's got you pinned. Your back slams onto the mat, wrists trapped above your head in a solid grip, his weight hot and heavy between your thighs.

A soft sigh escapes you, and you blink up at him, dazed.

He's smirking. "Got you, baby."

Your pulse spikes. Because he's right there, hovering over you, breath warm against your lips, his chest rising and falling in sharp, controlled breaths. His body is solid, pressing into yours, his grip firm enough to make your fingers twitch.

You swallow, eyes flicking over his face. He's sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, the curve of his biceps glistening, and you feel a deep, slow heat curl in your stomach.

But before you can dwell on it, he clears his throat, shifting slightly, the tiniest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.

"Again," he says, his voice just a touch rougher than before.

You barely get to catch your breath before he's helping you up, stepping back, giving you space. And then you do it again.

This time, you push harder, trying to be unpredictable, trying to get the upper hand, but it's useless. No matter how fast you move, how hard you strike, he's always just a fraction ahead.

And once again, he gets you pinned. Your breath catches as your back meets the mat, your arms above your head, his body covering yours.

He smirks down at you. "Damn, baby. Thought you were tougher than this."

Your stomach tightens. Your fingers flex against his hold, your skin burning from the way he's pressed into you. He's so warm, his shirt damp with sweat, clinging to his torso, and it's honestly not fair how good he looks like this.

He releases you, pulling away with a smirk as he stands, offering you a hand.

"Again," he says, that same rough edge to his voice.

And this time? Yeah, you're not sure if you want to win or if you just want to keep letting him pin you down.

"Let me take this off," you murmur, voice light, casual, as if you don't know exactly what you're doing.

And then you strip. It's nothing dramatic, you just grip the hem of your shirt and pull it up over your head, letting it fall to the floor beside you. But to him? It's like slow motion. His breath hitches, his eyes locking onto you like he's been starved for weeks. Because that sports bra? The one you picked for function, for support?

Yeah. It's doing things to him. The snug fabric cups your tits perfectly, lifting them just right, leaving nothing to the imagination except the parts he already knows by heart. The curve of your cleavage is glistening with sweat, and the way the material stretches across your chest has his hands itching to touch, to grab, to pull.

His thoughts derail before he can stop them. Because he's seen them, felt them, tasted them. He knows exactly how sensitive your nipples are, how you arch when he flicks his tongue just right.

He remembers the way your back curves when he palms them, the way you gasp when he squeezes a little rougher than necessary. And his body? It reacts before his brain can catch up.

Heat pools low in his stomach, a sharp, throbbing ache settling between his legs as blood rushes south. His cock twitches in his sweats, already thickening, and he knows he needs to stop looking, needs to breathe, needs to think about literally anything else before this gets too obvious.

But then your voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts, light and teasing. "Ready, or are you stalling?"

His gaze snaps up to your face just in time to catch your smirk—that playful, mischievous little curve of your lips, the one that always means trouble.

His throat works as he swallows hard, his voice a little breathless when he says, "Yeah. Ready."

And then, because he refuses to let you have the upper hand, he reaches for the hem of his own shirt and pulls it off in one smooth motion. The reaction is instant. You bite your lip, hard. Because your man? He's unreal.

Broad shoulders, thick arms, sculpted chest, all of it glistening with sweat, his abs flexing slightly with every breath. And then there's the happy trail, that perfect dusting of hair leading down, disappearing beneath his waistband, teasing at something you know way too well.

Something you know every ridge and vein of. Heat pulses through you, pooling low, making your thighs press together instinctively.

But then he is the one pulling you out of your thoughts, tilting his head, smirking just a little too knowingly as he murmurs, "You good, baby?"

It takes a second for you to process the question. "Yeah," you say quickly, shaking yourself out of it. "Just—yeah. Ready."

You try again. You really do. You focus on the fight, on strategy, on winning, but it doesn't even matter. Because it's the same as before—no matter what you do, no matter how fast or clever you are, he's just better.

And this time? This time when he gets you pinned, you moan. Because the second your back hits the mat, you feel it. The solid weight of him pressing you down, his thighs bracketing yours, his hands wrapped around your wrists, his cock—

Hard. Thick. Pressing right against your pussy through the layers of fabric between you.

A slow, drowning heat spreads through you, your breath hitching as you shift, and yep, it's worse. The friction, the pressure, the sheer heat of him against you, and your body reacts before you can stop it, hips tilting up the tiniest bit, just enough to grind.

His grip tightens. His breath shudders. And when you dare to glance up at his face? His pupils are blown wide, his jaw clenched, his expression caught somewhere between control and absolute wreckage.

"D-Dick, we—"

Your voice breaks, barely more than a breathless stammer, but he doesn't let you finish. Doesn't let you think. Doesn't give you a single second to process what's happening before his mouth is on yours, swallowing the rest of your words in a kiss so deep, so hungry, it knocks the air from your lungs.

And you don't even hesitate.

Your lips part for him the second he pushes in, a soft, desperate moan spilling from your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth, hot and claiming. There's no teasing, no testing, just need, pure and consuming, his mouth moving against yours in a rhythm that's all too familiar, all too dangerous.

Because it's him. Because he knows exactly how to kiss you, exactly how to angle his head, exactly how to steal the breath from your lungs and make you crave more, chase more.

And you do.

Your fingers twitch against his grip, your body arching instinctively, your thighs clenching as you feel it again. Him, grinding against you, his cock pressing right where you need it, rubbing so perfectly, the friction sending little shocks of heat straight to your core.

And he doesn't stop. Doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. He just rocks into you, slow and purposeful, letting you feel every inch of him, letting you squirm beneath him, letting the heat between you build with every slow, teasing thrust.

And God, you're getting so wet. You can feel it, the way your slick soaks through your leggings, the way it makes every drag of his cock feel hotter, messier, more desperate. And he notices. Of course he notices.

Because suddenly, his grip shifts—one hand still pinning your wrists above your head, the other palm pressing firm against your tits. Fingers squeeze through the thin fabric of your bra, teasing over your hardened nipples, making you gasp into his mouth.

And he groans, low and gravelly, his hips jerking forward, grinding against you just a little harder, a little faster, dragging another moan from your lips as your head tilts back against the mat.

He follows. Doesn't even give you time to catch your breath before his mouth is on you again, lips tracing the curve of your jaw, teeth nipping at the soft skin beneath your ear, tongue soothing over the sting before moving lower. Down, down, to your neck, where he sucks, hot and wet, marking you in a way that sends a sharp thrill straight through you.

And you whimper, hips rolling up against him, thighs trembling as he works his way lower, as his mouth devours every inch of skin it finds. Your collarbone, your chest, his breath hot against your sweat slicked skin as he licks a slow, teasing stripe across the swell of your tits.

And then? Then he yanks your bra up. Not off, just high enough to free your tits, high enough to leave them bare, to leave them at his mercy. And he doesn't hesitate.

His mouth is on you in seconds, lips wrapping around one stiffened peak, tongue swirling, teasing, before he sucks, slow and deep, and the sensation shoots straight down your spine, leaving your head spinning, your body burning.

And then? Then he bites.

Just the tiniest scrape of his teeth, just enough to make you gasp, to make you arch, to make heat flood between your thighs as you moan his name. And he smirks against your skin. You're so wet.

You feel it—feel the way your slick soaks through your leggings, the way every slow, teasing drag of his cock against your clit leaves a damp, sticky patch against his sweats. And from the way his breathing shudders, from the way his hips jerk, just a little, every time he rubs against you, you know he can feel it too.

But does he stop? Of course not.

If anything, he doubles down, rolling his hips in slow, torturous circles, just to hear those little gasps you can't hold back, just to see the way your lashes flutter, your lips parting as another soft, desperate moan slips free.

God, you're a mess. Flushed and panting, chest rising and falling with every sharp inhale, your nipples stiff and aching as he blows a teasing breath over them, the cool air making you whimper.

"Baby..."

It's barely a sound, more of a breathy little whine, but he hears it. Feels it. The desperation, the plea. And it drives him insane.

He hums, mouth pressing to your skin again, sucking a deep, dark mark right above your breast before he pulls back, before his lips hover just over yours, warm and teasing, taunting.

"Yeah, my love?"

His voice is low, rough, but you barely register it, barely even hear him over the way his cock keeps grinding against your swollen clit, rubbing just right, just enough.

You moan, hips rolling instinctively, chasing more, chasing him, your hands trembling where he still has them pinned.

"I need you."

His mind goes blank. Because usually? He has a little more self control. He thinks things through, considers where he's about to fuck you before he actually does it. But now? Now, that part of his brain shuts off completely. Because he needs you. Now.

He groans, low and wrecked, his entire body tensing before he moves—fast, determined, not even giving you time to think before his grip shifts, before he releases your hands and grabs you instead, folding you up so easily it makes your breath catch.

And then? Then he tugs. Your leggings, your panties—down, just enough to bare you, just enough to give him what he wants.

Jesus, your pussy is so wet. So fucking pretty, so needy, glistening in the dim lighting, slick already dripping through your lips, and the sight alone has his cock aching, has his hands shaking with the effort it takes not to just shove his sweats down and fuck you right now.

But he needs access.

So he yanks one sneaker off your foot, quick and practiced, and then your leggings and panties follow, just from that leg, just enough to let him spread you open, just enough to let him fuck you properly.

His sweats and boxers follow, tugging them down just enough to free his dick, and shit, he's so hard.

Thick and flushed, his cock standing heavy between you both, the tip leaking, smearing precum against the soft skin of your thigh as he moves, as he presses back over you.

Then he grinds. Slow, teasing, dragging his cock through your soaked folds, parting them with his shaft, slick and warm and so fucking wet that it leaves a shining trail along his length.

You whimper, hips rolling up, chasing it, your clit throbbing every time the thick, swollen head of his cock catches against it, sending little sparks of pleasure jolting up your spine.

But then he kisses you, and you just fucking melt.

It's messy, hot and needy, his lips slanting over yours, swallowing down every soft little sound you make. His hands grip you, one curled around your thigh, the other tangled into your hair, keeping you in place as he deepens it, as he drinks you in.

You moan, mouth parting for him, letting him lick inside, letting him taste the desperation on your tongue. Your hands slide up, burying into his dark hair, tugging, pulling, making him groan into your mouth, making his hips stutter against yours, his cock pressing harder into your soaked cunt.

And fuck, it's filthy.

The slick, messy sounds of his cock grinding through your folds, his precum clinging to you in strings, mixing with your own arousal, warm and sticky, coating every inch of him.

But it's not enough. You need more. You need his dick.

So you reach between your bodies, fingers curling around the thick, solid weight of him, and he shudders. "Shit—"

You guide him down, aligning him with your entrance, so slick, so ready, so fucking desperate to be filled. And he doesn't hesitate, doesn't even think twice before he starts to push in.

And holy fuck, the stretch—

Thick, hot, bare, his cock splitting you open, inch by inch, making you feel every vein, every ridge, every perfect, blissful drag as your walls squeeze around him, sucking him in.

Your breath catches, a long, broken moan spilling from your lips, your hands tangling into his hair, clutching at him as he sinks deeper. He presses his forehead to yours, panting, groaning, trying not to lose his mind completely at the way you clench around him.

But then he's bottoming out, buried to the hilt, so deep, so fucking deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

He hisses when you move, when your hips lift just the slightest bit, when your walls clench around him, tight and wet and hot, making his cock throb, making his muscles tighten, making him feel like he's seconds away from losing it.

"Dick," you murmur, breathless, wrecked, your voice all soft and needy, your nails digging into his scalp as you shift beneath him. "M-Move, baby. Fuck—"

That's all he needs. He pulls out almost entirely, the thick head of his cock dragging along your walls, slick and hot and messy, making you gasp as the stretch flares up all over again.

Then he slams back in. Hard. Deep. Filling you completely, stretching your cunt so fucking perfectly that you arch against him, that you whine, that your thighs tremble as he buries himself to the hilt.

And then? Then he fucks you.

No teasing, no hesitation, just pure, desperate need. His hand grips your thigh, lifting it, keeping it up so he can sink deeper. So he can fuck you just the way he knows you love, making you feel every thick, throbbing inch as his cock drags in and out of your soaked cunt.

And God, you're so wet. It's filthy—the slick, messy sounds of your pussy taking him, of your arousal coating his cock, dripping down his length, smearing over his thighs, soaking the mat beneath you.

Every thrust is perfect, the thick, flushed head of his cock hitting all the right spots, grinding against that sweet, sensitive place inside you, making your walls flutter, making your stomach tighten, making your clit throb every time his skin slaps against it.

You gasp a moan, and before you know it, his lips crash against yours.

Hot. Messy. Desperate. His lips slant over yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, claiming, devouring, drinking down every moan, every whimper, every broken little sound he pulls from your throat.

You kiss him back just as hungrily, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers tangling into his damp hair, clutching at the dark strands as he pounds into you. His dick splits you open as he fucks you deeper, harder, faster, like he needs it, like he can't breathe without it. Like he can't breathe without you.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his voice rough, almost wrecked, panting against your lips.

He keeps fucking into you, deep and steady, each thrust perfect, each grind of his hips sending sparks down your spine, making your whole body burn.

"Taking me so well, you feel so fucking good... so tight, so warm, so wet for me."

His words make your cunt clench, gripping him harder, and he feels it. You know he does, because he groans, his head tipping back for a second before he leans in again, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot and ragged as he keeps going.

"You love this, don't you?" he pants, voice laced with pure hunger, punctuated by the deep, wet slap of his cock sinking into you again and again. "Love how deep I am?"

You can't even answer. Your mouth is open, lips trembling, but the only thing coming out are these breathy, helpless little moans. You're too overwhelmed to form words, too caught up in the way he's fucking you—fast, deep, needy, like he has to, like he's got no choice but to ruin you.

And you're so close, you can taste it. And he knows.

"Cum for me, baby," he urges, voice thick with lust, with want, his cock grinding against that sweet, sensitive spot inside you, each thrust dragging his skin along your swollen, throbbing clit. "C'mon, love, let me feel you—let me feel you cum on my dick."

And fuck, it hits almost instantly.

A sharp, hot, blinding pleasure that shatters you, rips through your whole body. It makes your back arch and your nails dig into his skin as your walls tighten hard around him, squeezing his cock, sucking him in, milking him as your orgasm crashes over you.

Your cunt spasms, pulsing, clenching, and you swear you black out for a second, pleasure surging through every nerve ending. The intensity makes your thighs tremble, your mouth falling open in a silent scream before it finally turns into a choked moan.

And he doesn't stop. He fucks you through it, praising you, whispering soft, filthy things against your skin. "That's it, baby, fuck—so good, so tight—you're so fucking perfect for me, you feel so good—"

And it's too much.

You're still shaking, still clenching around him, and he's right there. His thrusts get rougher, his hips snapping against you faster, deeper, sloppier, chasing his own high because God, you're still gripping him so tight, still soaking his cock, your slick smeared all over his thighs, his abs, dripping down onto the mat.

"Baby," he groans, his voice shaking now, "fuck—I'm—fuck—"

And then he loses it.

His hips slam into you one last time, burying himself deep, his cock twitching, pulsing before he spills. Hot. Thick. So much.

His cum floods your pussy, filling you completely, coating your walls, his whole body tensing as he groans deep into your mouth, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you still as he fucks you through it, grinding into you, pushing his release deeper.

And you're just babbling, pleasure still wracking your body, your arms wrapped tight around him as you murmur, "Baby, I love you, I love you so much—"

"I love you too, doll," he groans, his voice hoarse, raw, thick with need.

His hips moving slower, dragging his dick through your still clenching walls, letting you feel every inch as he gives you every last drop of his cum.

Then his lips are back on yours. Messy. Desperate. Like he's starving for you, like he can't breathe without your lips on his, without the taste of you, without the heat of your body pressed so tightly against his own.

And before you can even catch your breath, before you can even think, he's moving, flipping you over in one smooth motion, pulling you on top of him, his cock slipping out just a little before you sink back down, making you both gasp.

Your chest rises and falls against his as you try to catch your breath, but the way he feels inside you—hot, thick, still pulsing—makes it impossible to focus on anything but him. Your hands smooth over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips, the way his muscles twitch when you shift, rotating your hips in a slow, teasing grind.

"Fuck," he groans, voice low, almost wrecked, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass, gripping like he can't help it.

You smirk, leaning down until your lips barely graze his, your tits pressing against his sweat dampened chest, nipples brushing against his warm skin as your elbows hit the mat on either side of his head.

"That good, baby?"

His only response is a sharp inhale through his nose, a needy, helpless little whimper that shoots straight through you, settling deep in your cunt.

You start to move again, rolling your hips, letting his cock drag slowly out of you before sinking right back in, stretching you all over again. His cum makes it so messy, so slick, letting him slide in and out so easily. But the stretch is still so good, the fullness so perfect that you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning too loud.

He feels everything.

Your tight, fluttering walls squeezing around him, your wetness coating his dick, dripping down over his balls, making a sticky mess between your thighs. And he's sensitive, overstimulated from his orgasm, every slow, deliberate roll of your hips sending jolts of pleasure straight up his spine, but he doesn't care.

Not when you feel like this. Not when your body is wrapped around him, soft and hot and wet, moving with that perfect, lazy rhythm, dragging out his pleasure, making it last.

"Baby," he pants, voice breathless, desperate, his fingers flexing on your ass, squeezing, guiding your movements even though you don't need it, because he just needs to touch you. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me."

You hum, amusement curling at the edges of your pleasure as you rock your hips again, deeper this time, pressing your clit against his pelvis with each slow grind.

"You're still so hard," you murmur, nipping at his bottom lip before soothing it with your tongue. "Gonna give me another one?"

His whole body shudders.

"Fuck, baby—"

But you swallow the rest of his words with a kiss, slow and wet, all tongue and heat and need. He groans into your mouth, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, pressing you tighter against him as his cock twitches inside you, so fucking deep, so perfectly snug in the grip of your soft, soaked pussy.

His mind is a mess.

You're everywhere—wrapped around him, squeezing him, your scent flooding his lungs, your body moving so fucking perfectly against his.

He needs more.

His hands slide up your back, over your ribs, before grabbing your tits, squeezing as he thumbs your nipples, making you gasp into his mouth, your hips stuttering as another slow grind makes his cock rub against that perfect, swollen spot inside you.

"Baby," you whimper, your voice breathy, needy, your fingers tangling into his hair as your hips pick up the pace.

He groans, his lips dragging from your mouth to your jaw, your neck, his teeth grazing over your pulse before he whispers, "That's it, my love—fuck, ride me, just like that."

"Shit—baby—fuck, your dick—so deep, so good—"

The words spill out between gasps, between moans, barely coherent, your voice high and breathy as you fuck yourself down onto him, taking every thick, pulsing inch of his cock.

Dick is losing it. His hands are all over you—gripping your waist, squeezing your ass, cupping your tits, anything to ground himself. Because the way you're riding him, the way your tight, soaked cunt is squeezing around him, making those obscene, wet sounds every time you sink down? Yeah, he's barely holding it together.

And then you straighten up. Your hands plant on his abs, and you lean back just a little, just enough to let him see.

His stomach tightens, his dick throbs, because the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, stretching around him, your soft, slick folds parting every time you take him to the hilt—fuck, it's perfect.

"Jesus Christ," he groans, his fingers digging into your skin, his hips bucking up on their own, because he can't help it. He needs more, he needs to feel more.

His gaze drags up, and your tits are bouncing with every roll of your hips, your nipples tight and flushed, practically begging for his mouth, his hands, his teeth.

But it's your pussy that ruins him.

The way your pussy is slick, coated in your arousal and his cum, stretched so perfectly around him, your creamy wetness making a mess of his cock, dripping down onto his pelvis, smearing over his abs as you keep fucking yourself on him, taking him so deep, so fucking good.

He moves without thinking. One hand presses against your belly, feeling himself inside you, feeling how deep he is, how your pussy is gripping him so tight he swears he can barely breathe.

"Baby—" he pants, his voice wrecked, his thumb slipping lower, lazily rubbing over your swollen, soaked clit.

You whimper, your head falling back, your back arching, your pace stuttering for just a second before you grind deeper, chasing that feeling, chasing that pressure as you keep taking all of his dick, every inch, until the thick, sensitive tip kisses your womb.

"That's it, baby," Dick groans, his voice thick with heat, "fuck yourself on me—just like that, my perfect girl—"

Your moan is high and needy, your body trembling as you ride him, each grind of your hips making your clit drag against his thumb, slick and swollen, sending little shocks of pleasure through your body. His cock is so deep, filling you up so perfectly, every thick inch stretching you, splitting you open, fucking you into bliss.

"Look at you, love," he pants, his free hand gripping your hip, fingers pressing into your heated skin as he watches you, eyes dark and hazy. "So fucking pretty—so wet for me—taking my dick so fucking well—"

His words sink into you, hot and filthy, curling deep in your gut, making your walls flutter around him. He can feel it, can feel how close you are, how your pussy keeps clenching, getting tighter, slicker, dripping down his length, leaving a mess of arousal and cum between your thighs.

"You gonna cum, baby?" he murmurs, his fingers pressing firmer against your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles, making your whole body jolt, "gonna cum on my dick like a good girl?"

You sob out a gasp, your hips jerking, grinding down harder, chasing the release that's right there, coiling deep, burning hot.

"Dick—fuck—I'm—"

It hits you, slamming into you all at once, pleasure bursting through your body as you clench down around him, your cunt spasming, pulsing tight as you cum, soaking him, dripping down his cock, your whole body shuddering as the pleasure wracks through you.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching you come apart, feeling you come apart around him. "That's my girl—so good—so fucking good—"

You're panting, your body still trembling, your head light, and then he moves.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you down, pressing your chest against his, pinning you tight against his body as his other hand grips the back of your head, tilting your face, slamming his mouth against yours.

You whimper into the kiss, your lips parting instantly, letting him devour you, tongue deep, filthy, claiming your mouth as his hips snap up, thrusting into you, deep and hard.

You gasp, the stretch overwhelming, still so sensitive, still fluttering around his cock as he starts fucking into you. His body grinds against yours, keeping you trapped against him, his cock splitting you open, every stroke pushing him deeper into your needy, messy cunt.

"More, baby—" you're moaning, panting against his lips, "moremoremore—"

Dick's mind is a fucking mess.

Because he loves you. Loves you so much it makes his chest tight, makes his head spin, makes his cock throb inside you every time you gasp, every time you moan his name, every time you take him like this, like you were fucking made for him.

And it's not just the sex, it's everything.

It's the way you kiss him, the way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way you love him. The way you know him, every inch of him, inside and out. The way you drive him crazy, make him weak, make him want to give you everything.

And he can't deny you. So he doesn't.

His hips snap up, harder, faster, driving his cock so deep inside your cunt he feels you twitch around him. Feels the way your tight, wet walls suck him back in every time he pulls out, making it so hard to think, so hard to focus on anything except the heat of your body, the desperate way you grind down on him, meeting him halfway, fucking yourself onto his dick as fast as he's fucking into you.

The gym echoes with it, loud and filthy, the wet slap of skin on skin, your breathless moans, his guttural groans, your gasps, his whimpers. His balls slap against your ass every time you drop down onto his cock, his sweat-slicked abs grinding against your swollen clit, making you jolt, making you tremble, your cunt drenched, dripping, so warm, so fucking wet.

"Fuck—" he gasps, "you're so—baby, I'm gonna—"

He's so close, and he knows you feel it too. The way his thrusts get sloppy, the way his cock twitches inside you, how his abs tighten with every desperate snap of his hips. And fuck, the way you're squeezing him, milking him, dragging him deeper.

"Baby—"

His voice is hoarse, breaking on your name as his fingers dig into your waist, grip tightening like he needs to hold onto you, needs to ground himself, because he's about to fucking lose it.

And then he does.

His head tips back, a strangled, wrecked moan leaving his lips as his cock buries itself inside you one last time—throbbing, pulsing, his cum spilling, filling you up so deep you swear you can feel the heat of it in your belly.

And that does it.

The moment you feel him pump you full, it sends you spiraling, your whole body shuddering above him as your cunt clenches around his cock, squeezing every last drop from him, pulling him deeper, holding him tight.

Your orgasm washes over you, hot and blinding, making you tremble, making you whimper, making your back arch as your hips rock, fucking him through it, dragging out every last jolt of pleasure, every last spurt of cum inside you.

You finally collapse onto his heaving chest, panting, shaking, wrecked, you feel the warmth of it seeping out, thick and sticky, trickling down your thighs, making a mess between your legs. You both feel spent, your bodies burning, slick with sweat, soaked in each other.

His breath is uneven, his chest rising and falling beneath you as his hand finds your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles, his touch gentle after how desperate he just was.

You whimper softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, melting against him. He smiles, exhausted, dazed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple before he exhales, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

He lets you come back to yourself slowly, his hands soothing, gentle, as they rub slow, lazy circles into your skin. His chest rises and falls beneath you, the steady rhythm lulling you, and at some point, you realize that your heartbeat is synced to his.

You sigh, content, lifting your head just enough to press a soft kiss to his jaw, and he turns, looking down at you. His gaze is warm, fond, and when he leans in to kiss your forehead, it makes your chest flutter.

"Good, my love?"

A hum leaves your lips, soft, sleepy, your body still boneless on top of him. "Mhmm."

But then your eyes drift down to where you're still connected, where his cock rests inside you, where the mess you made together is seeping out, sticky between your thighs, and reality hits.

"But now we have to clean up here... and ourselves, if we're at that."

You groan, dreading it, and he chuckles, amused, voice husky when he murmurs, "Lucky for us, the showers are just next door."

That makes you tense, your eyes widening slightly as the thought hits you.

"But what if someone comes down and sees us?"

He grins, teasing, smug as he tilts his head. "If I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted to fuck—"

Your hand flies up, slapping his chest with a scandalized gasp as you pout, "That's not true! Don't be mean, baby."

His smile softens, lips twitching as he concedes, "Alright, maybe I wanted it a bit too..."

Your eyes narrow, lips curling into something mischievous, and before he realizes it, you squeeze your walls around him.

His breath catches, his hips jerk, and he hisses, his grip on you tightening. "Okay, okay, fine, yeah. I wanted to fuck you badly."

A soft giggle escapes your lips, satisfaction swelling in your chest as you murmur, "That's better."

His hand cups the back of your head, pulling you in, and when your lips meet, it's slow, lazy, deep. Your tongues tangle, your moans swallowed, your bodies still pressed so close, his cock still inside you, still hard.

And God, it'd be so easy to move again, to rock your hips, to keep going, to fuck him one more time, to feel him fill you up again. But you can't.

Because the last thing you want is for Alfred, or Bruce, or literally anyone else to walk in and see you like this. And from the way Dick moves the moment the kiss breaks, you know he's thinking the exact same thing.

He grabs your ass, keeping you tight against him as he pushes himself up from the mat—his cock still buried inside you, still stretching you, holding you open, making sure not a single drop of his cum is wasted just yet.

And he carries you straight to the showers.

It's only when he finally steps inside that he lets you go, slowly pulling out, his cock leaving you aching, empty, and the moment he does, his cum spills out of you.

It drips, slick, sticky, warm, sliding down your thighs, clinging to your swollen folds, coating your skin, And he watches, ravenous, his throat bobbing, his jaw tightening as his fingers twitch at his sides. Like he's tempted, so tempted, to shove his fingers inside you, to push it all back in, but he forces himself to look away.

Instead, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he murmurs, "I'll get you a towel in a sec. Go on, start without me, love. I'll clean there and join you, okay?"

And by the way his voice dips, the way his fingers trail along your hips, the way his eyes darken as they flicker back down to your messy pussy... you already know he won't last long before he's back on you.

You move quickly, unpeeling yourself from your clothes with practiced ease, trying not to make a mess on the fabric. Or at the very least, not a big one.

Dick's cum is still slick between your thighs, thick and warm, and the last thing you want is to ruin something you actually like, so you're careful, rolling down your leggings, stepping out of them with a sigh, before making your way to the nearest stall.

The moment you step inside, you turn on the water, the warm spray soothing as it cascades down your body, washing away the sweat, the heat, the lingering haze of your orgasm. But as you predicted, Dick is back in less than a few minutes.

You feel him before you see him, his presence enveloping you as he steps in behind you, his chest pressing to your bare back, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you in.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" you tease, your voice soft, playful, a smile tugging at your lips as you lean into him.

His lips find your shoulder, his kisses slow, lazy, trailing along your damp skin as he murmurs, smug, "Didn't even try, sweet girl."

A breathless laugh leaves you, and you tilt your head back, meeting his eyes, warm, fond, filled with something deeper, something softer. And he leans in, kissing you gently, lips lingering, hands exploring, touching, holding.

You sigh into it, melting, your fingers tangling into his wet hair as his arms tighten around you, and for a while, you just stand there, pressed together beneath the warm spray, soaking in each other.

When you finally pull away, he reaches for the soap, lathering up his hands before running them over your shoulders, your arms, down to your hips, his fingers gliding over every curve, every dip of your body.

And you do the same, smoothing your hands over his chest, down his abs, over his sides, mapping him out, washing him slowly, lazily, as his lips keep finding yours, over and over, soft, tender, like he can't help himself.

And honestly? You don't mind.

By the time you're drying off, your body feels loose, content, your muscles relaxed, and you're just about to slip back into your sweaty clothes when he clears his throat.

"Here."

You blink as he hands you something. A clean set of clothes. Sweatpants. A t-shirt. Panties. All your size. All new.

Your brows furrow, and you look at him, confused, voice soft as you ask, "Baby, what's with these?"

He shrugs, rubbing a towel through his wet hair, his expression casual, like it's nothing, like it's not a big deal, even though it is.

"I bought those a while ago, just in case you ever need a change."

Your chest tightens, your breath catches, and you stare at him, stunned, warmth swelling, spreading, something tender and sweet blooming inside you.

Because of course he did.

Of course he thought of you, of course he made sure you'd have something here, something comfortable, something yours.

Because that's who he is.

He's thoughtful, attentive, he loves you in a way that's so effortless, so genuine, so all-encompassing, that sometimes it catches you off guard, makes you feel so lucky, so cherished, you don't know how to handle it.

And as you keep staring, he finally notices, his towel lowering, his lips quirking as he raises a brow.

"What?"

You just shake your head, a soft, disbelieving smile on your lips as you murmur, "Nothing... just can't believe how perfect my man is."

And when he grins, bright, boyish, so in love, you swear your heart skips a beat.

You both finish getting dressed, the soft fabric of your new clothes making you feel more comfortable, and as Dick pulls on his shirt, you take a last look around the gym, making sure everything's in the same state you found it.

Not a single piece of equipment out of place. Not a single sign that you just spent the last half an hour getting fucked stupid on the mats.

Though, if anyone actually stepped in, you're pretty sure the scent of sweat, sex, and Dick's desperation is still hanging in the air.

But otherwise, perfectly fine. Dick stretches, rolling his shoulders before grabbing his helmet, and you follow him out, stepping into the cool air of the Batcave as he swings a leg over his bike.

He glances at you, tilting his head toward the seat behind him, smirking as he says, "C'mon, baby. Let's go home."

And you do, sliding in behind him, arms wrapping tight around his waist, cheek pressing to his back as the engine purrs beneath you.

The ride is smooth, the city lights blurring past as he weaves through the streets, taking the longer route, letting the wind rush over you, cool and invigorating, as you just hold on, completely content, completely at ease.

By the time you get home, your body is spent, your muscles loose, and you barely make it to the bed before collapsing onto it, melting into the sheets with a happy sigh.

Later, after a much needed nap, you stir against his chest, stretching slightly as a deep, content sigh escapes you, only to freeze when you hear his voice, low, warm, pressing against your ear.

"Still up for tonight?"

You blink, sleepy, your brain lagging, trying to catch up, until it clicks. Your eyes snap open, and you gasp, breath catching as you lift your head, grabbing his arm.

"No way... We're going to that restaurant?"

His grin is instant, his hand sliding down your waist as he murmurs, smug, affectionate, "Yeah, my love, we're going to the restaurant."

And just like that, you perk up, excitement sparking through you, and you don't even hesitate before grabbing your phone and firing off a quick message to Bruce:

thank you thank you thank you!!!

And you make sure to thank Dick, too.

The moment you put your phone down, you don't even hesitate. You tackle him back onto the bed, giggling, covering his face with kisses, your heart bursting with love.

And he laughs, warm and fond, holding you close, soaking in your affection, right up until your kisses start drifting lower.

Your lips brush along his jaw, then his throat, slow, purposeful, your hands sliding down his chest, nails scratching lightly over his abs as you shift, slipping between his legs.

"Baby..." he breathes, voice already deep, already knowing, his cock hardening beneath his sweats.

But you just smirk, settling yourself comfortably, pressing a kiss just above his waistband, eyes flicking up to meet his as you murmur, "Gotta thank you properly, don't I?"

His jaw clenches, his fingers digging into the sheets, but he doesn't stop you when you tug his sweats down, freeing his thick, heavy cock, already leaking at the tip.

And you waste no time. You lick up the length, slow, teasing, swirling your tongue around the head before closing your lips around it, sucking lightly, making him curse, his hand fisting into your hair.

"Fuck, my love..."

You hum, taking him deeper, your mouth hot, wet, your tongue lapping against the sensitive vein running along his cock as you bob your head, taking him inch by inch.

He's panting, groaning, his hips jerking, and when you hollow your cheeks, sucking him down until he hits the back of your throat, his head drops back, a low, desperate moan leaving him.

"Shit, baby—fuck, just like that."

You whimper, arousal pulsing through you, thighs clenching, and you know he feels it too. Knows you're already soaked, already needy just from sucking his dick.

But you keep going, keep swirling your tongue, keep fucking your mouth onto him until he grits out a warning, his grip tightening, his abs tensing beneath your hands.

"Gonna cum, baby—gonna—"

And you take it. Swallowing him down, drinking every drop, his groans filling the room as he twitches, his cock pulsing against your tongue.

But you're not done yet. Because the moment he catches his breath, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him, and within seconds, his cock is sliding back into your soaking cunt, stretching you wide, filling you deep, fucking you the way he knows you need.

"Gonna keep you full all day, my love—fuck, you feel so good."

And you thank him with every moan, every whimper, every orgasm he pulls from you.

And after dinner?

Let's just say you thank him again. Bent over the dining table, his cock slamming into you from behind, tits pressed into the wood, his hand fisted in your hair, his groans hot against your neck as he fills you up.

[ladcedes]

lowkey - ln4

lando norris x reader

request Hi could you write a lando Norris x younger mexican/irish gf reader (21) fc (rae cambra )where they keep things private because she doesnt want hate and her instagram is private too and shes always seen with lando and they went on holiday together smau pls.

note first request ever omg... thank you so much for this anon! pretty sure whoever requested actually forgot abt it atp... im sooo sorry this took me like half a year to get to I actually never check my inbox 😭😭😭

set in the summer bcs why tf not!

paddockwags 14hrs ago | 4hrs ago

paddockwags 3hrs ago | 3hrs ago

paddockwags

liked by dhsj.77 and 32.887 others

paddockwags lando norris and his girlfriend, yn ln, seen in monaco 📸

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starlandos how did they even meet bruh 😭

⤷ bownorris exactly she has like zero social media presence how are they even together

⤷ paddockwags @.bownorris lots of athletes meet their wags through mutual friends so it’s likely that

amourln4 i give them another week 🥱

f1.wagspot

liked by 41.826 others

f1.wagspot lando norris’ girlfriend, yn ln’s, instagram account revealed!

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favspiastri hold up does anyone think they meet through alex?? since they follow each other…

lncult WAITTT if u look back at some of alex’s posts u can find a glimpse of her

⤷ fourclaren so what she used her friend to get herself a famous bf? social climber 😒😐

f1.wagspot

liked by f1wagsfashion and others

f1.wagspot lando norris spotted enjoying the sun with his girlfriend in mallorca ahead of the azerbaijan gp!

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4norrism are him and charles in the same place??

⤷ princeleclerc omg lando and charles vacation meetup?!?

silverstonel4n icb he’s stayed this long with a girl who’s so hidden from the spotlight

⤷ mcl4ren she’s so different from his past gfs it’s crazy

yourusername

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 5 others

liked by riabish and 216 others

yourusername when your schedules all line up >>>>

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alexandrasaintmleux bestie holidays ❤️

liked by creator

⤷ yourusername cheers to more! 🥂

landonorris hope you liked your graduation gift ml ❤️

⤷ yourusername calling it a graduation gift really isn’t helping the allegations yk…

⤷ landonorris @.yourusername well in your defense i only paid for the plane and the guys split yacht costs so i think we’re good 🤓 you deserve it anyway 🤷‍♂️

landonorris trip finally made it out of the gc!

⤷ alex_albon stop trying to be relatable your trips always make it out of the gc. you're rich.

⤷ landonorris @.alex_albon then how come our golfing trips rarely happen :(

⤷ georgerussell63 @.landonorris have you thought about not planning them spontaneously, during race weeks, in a range halfway across the world?

⤷ yourusername @.georgerussell @.landonorris were you silent, or were you SILENCED

landonorris

liked by georgerussell63 and others

landonorris sun’s out… summer break!

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ln4tion don’t be shy lando… finish the phrase 😁

⤷ formulamclaren fr when did this guy get pr training 😂😂

fourrari is this finally the official hard launch

⤷ gr63atest does it count as a hard launch if her face still isnt visible 😭😭

⤷ fourrari @.gr63atest 😭 at least we got confirmation tho

ladcedes keeping up with the 'comments as an author's note' tradition: I really hope this one meets expectations! I think it's a bit short but I didn't rly know what to do...

slightly suggestive bonus :]

[myfictionaldreams]

Edge of Glory // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Defiance is something you are not accustomed to, but when the love of your life is in danger, there is no stopping you. Now, the repercussions of your actions have you contemplating the decisions that you've made.

Requested by: My bestie, thank you for giving me the spark and motivation to continue writing!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff, threesome (F/M/M), BDSM, punishment, sensory deprivation, crying, overstimulation, begging, edging (!), subspace, restraints, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, praise kink, degradation, aftercare

Words: 6.5k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Masochist: someone who enjoys pain. That word echoed in the forefront of your mind as your muscles strained and ached from the exertion. Deep breath in and out, shoulder joints rolling to ease the stiffness in your neck as your arms are raised in defence once more.

It’s not that you were averse to pain; in the right circumstance, pain could be mixed with pleasure or have a reward such as a tattoo or piercing. However, the pain that came with working out, forcing your muscles to move to their limits, and lungs burning with the movements were things you were not used to or could say you were enjoying at the present moment. Hence why, the woman in front of you, with stunning red hair and a bright, taunting grin, was being labelled a masochist because there was no way you could fathom that she was enjoying any moment of this, but the sharp laugh she released had you shaking your head in concern.

“Again,” she ordered breathily, her arms remaining at her side as she carefully stepped around the thin mat positioned in the centre of the office. The chairs and table are pushed against the wall, giving you more space.

Taking an exaggerated deep breath, ignoring that fire that coated the inside of your lungs, you lunged towards Natasha, looking as if you were going to grab her by the shoulders, but in the last second, you dropped to your knees. With surety and remembering the instructions of your mentor, who watched from the sidelines, you tackled your friend to the floor.

With the rush of air that escaped her lungs, you knew you’d taken her by surprise and couldn’t help the shit-eating grin across your face as you stared triumphantly down at Natasha.

Within a single blink, an unnatural grunt was forced from your no longer smiling lips as Nat was quick to swap the positions, causing your body to roll and her now hovering over you with both of your arms pinned on either side of your head.

“What now, Sugar? Try and get out of this one”, she taunted as her flaming hair framed her beautiful face. With a surge of adrenaline, you were able to swing your hips up, pushing her body away enough to kick your knee up. Natasha, the ever-professional bodyguard and part-time assassin, knew your next move and could twist both of your legs together until you were thoroughly held down with no hopes of escape. “Come on, you know how to get out of this hold, just think”, Natasha continued to tease, holding onto your limbs tightly.

The panic of being held down with the pain pulsing through your muscles, you couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even think of another way out, let alone the right way. Turning your head to the side to look towards your mentor, you were suddenly turned as Natasha forced your body onto its side as she tuts, “No cheating, don’t look for Wilson for the answers, use your head!”

“I can’t; I give up,” you grumbled as your face smushed into the cool mat, finding some relief in the lower temperature. Relief instantly eased into your limbs as Natasha released her hold on you, and you flopped face-first on the floor. “Thank you.”

“You did well today. You finally got me onto my back, which most can’t say. Good job!” Natasha praised you as she moved to grab a drink. You’d intended to raise a thumbs-up in her general direction, but all you could manage was flop an open palm onto the mat and continue to lay there.

The next voice that praised was Sam, your mentor and personal bodyguard, as he reprimanded Nat, “You didn’t have to play dirty; the hold was for next month's teaching, Romanoff”.

“Whoever said I played fair”, she teased, her voice sultry and low as she gently pushed against Sam’s shoulder. 

Not that you were particularly listening as you breathed deeply in the middle of the floor, becoming so relaxed that you contemplated having a nap. Except someone had other ideas as large, firm hands scooped beneath your body, causing you to groan dramatically as you’re lifted until sitting sideways in his lap, your face resting carefully against his shoulder as warm arms wrapped around you.

Steve held you closely, gently kissing the top of your head as you breathed him in, finding comfort in his cologne and warmth. For a moment, you admired the parts you were touching, from the firmness of her muscular body to the coarse, dark blond facial hair that rested against your temple. Lifting your heavy head, your lips pressed against the thick column of his neck, you asked, “Did I do good today, or is she just saying that because she has to?”

The brief grunt of a laugh that Steve released had your insides warming, especially as the vast chest you were resting on vibrated, nothing to you was more attractive than being the reason for your partner laughing. Once again, Steve kissed the top of your head gently before answering, “You did do good today, baby. Even though I don’t see the point in you having to learn all of these moves. There’s a reason why I hire all of my friends and colleagues to be your bodyguards you know”. 

You sigh into his neck, reaching up to play with the curling blonde wisps of hair at the nape of his neck, “I know but it still can’t hurt to know some self-defence, especially when, oh I don’t know, two of the most wanted and dangerous men in all of Brooklyn are my boyfriends”.

Steve hums against your forehead but you can feel him smiling. It’s not that you wanted to become as highly trained as either of your boyfriends or your bodyguards but with the way the company and job roles that everyone was playing, it was probably for the best that you had some skillset for defending yourself.

“Anyway,” you continue, leaning back slightly in his hold so you can look up into his bright sky-blue eyes. Maybe I’ll be good enough to get you or Bucky onto your backs one day. “The brightness in Steve’s eyes seemed to darken as his eyelids lowered. His gaze sharpened down to your lips, and you knew the hunger in his eyes wasn’t for food.

“Baby girl, if you wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask”, as he spoke, he dragged you down as he led, your body now covering over his chest, legs shifting until you’re straddling over his waist. Pushing up against his firm chest, you grinned down at him, already feeling the warmth radiating from between your legs as you clenched in arousal.

“Hey! No fornicating on the gym mat!” Natasha shouts, interrupting the heated exchange for a second.

Not that this at all differed, Steve as his hands skimmed over your legging-covered thighs, massaging the muscles as he then settled over your hips, pushing your lower body down so that you could feel all of him, hard and pulsing between your legs.

As a moan of need slipped past your lips, a multitude of events happened. Every phone in the room, except yours, pinged with a single notification and all warmth, happiness and lust ceased to exist as this was never a positive text. Steve reached beneath your thigh to retrieve his phone from his trouser pocket. Reading it briefly before beginning to sit up.

Staring around the room, you could feel the energy was anything but positive from the frown now marring Natasha’s face.

Bucky, the tightness in the centre of your chest became unbearable as your eyes darted back to Stee, who was now carefully trying to stand between you. No words were spoken, but they weren’t needed. Just from Steve’s exterior, you knew it was something regarding Bucky. He was supposed to confirm a deal—no action, just papers and signing.

“Please,” your voice was barely heard over a whisper as you took a shaky step toward Steve, who began clipping his guns back into the leather holster hidden behind his suit jacket. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for—some reassurance? To come with them? But Steve hardly even paused to look at you as he rushed past, his hand cupping your cheek before moving towards the door with Natasha in tow.

On instinct, you followed his steps as the thumping of your pulse in your chest tempted you drastically with the spike of adrenaline.

“Hold up, Boss Lady. We’re staying here,” Sam calmly reminded you as he carefully stepped into your line of sight. For a moment, you relaxed under his gentle gaze as you examined him, from his buzzed short hair to his black polo top and jeans.

“There’s no way I’m staying here, I know it’s Bucky. I’m going”, you spoke with all the authority you could muster whilst stepping around him. However now, it was Steve blocking your exit as he stood to his full height, staring down at you with pity in his eyes.

“You’re going to stay here where it’s safe with Sam. I’m not risking you”.

Shaking your head, you try to push past his towering body, but he doesn’t budge a single step. Grunting in frustration, your eyes ablaze, you stare up at him again. “Please, Steve, don’t leave me behind when Bucky’s hurt! I know it’s him; I can feel it.” You press your hand over your heart for emphasis. “Don’t leave me here. I’ll sit in the car. Please let me come with you!”

Steve opens his mouth but a shout from lower down the corridor interrupts him as Natasha informs him that the car is ready. Rough fingers cup your cheeks, tilting your face towards him further as he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose and then your forehead, “I will call as soon as I can, but you need to stay here”.

Steve leaves without any time for argument. It takes a total of ten seconds before you rush back into the office, collect a hoodie, phone, and car keys, and plan to ignore Steve completely and rush after them, following the GPS on his phone.

One small, or rather tall interruption came in the shape of one frowning bodyguard as he held onto the front of your shoulders. “No”. Simple, authoritative, and mostly effective. But not today.

Pushing past him, you made it another step before he grasped your inner elbow and pulled you back. “No, you aren’t following them. If Boss’s orders are to stay here, we are staying here. I’m sorry I know that’s not what you want-”.

“What did the message say?” Sam’s jaw muscles tighten as he closes his mouth, saying nothing and everything simultaneously. “Exactly. Bucky is in trouble, and I’m not staying here waiting for a phone call to say whether he's okay or not. At least if I follow and stay in the car, I can have immediate answers. So it’s up to you. You can stay here or do your job and protect me in the car.” 

You were never firm like this with Sam, who was not only your bodyguard but also your best friend. However, right now, with adrenaline pulsing through your veins, there was no way you were going to act rationally. Sam took a moment to battle himself internally before cursing lowly under his breath.

“Fuck. They are so going to fire me but fine but you listen to everything I say. You must stay near the car; if there’s any sign of danger and we need to leave, you go without question. Understand?”

“Yes, I promise. Now let’s go!”

On the way to wherever Sam was driving you, your nerves seemed uncontrollable. Your legs bounced, and your fingers wrung together in an attempt to calm down. “They won’t fire you, you know, " you said to try to distract yourself as the scenery became one of vast landscapes, greenery, and nothingness.

“Oh yeah? And how do you work that one out then?” 

“Because you’re still protecting me, no matter where we go. I have full trust in you, Sam, and I know they do, too. They’d be as lost without you as I would be.”

His face seemed to ease slightly as he reached across the centre console and gripped your fingers tightly, stopping your movements and reassuring you.

Entering into a derelict area, Sam reminds you again of your promise to stay close to the car as he parks, where you recognise Steve and a couple of other SUVs who have haphazardly parked outside of a warehouse. Stepping out of the vehicle, you remained close as promised, but Sam stood directly before you, his gun raised and prepared to be used.

It was silent. Entirely and utterly silent. There weren’t even birds singing in the trees nearby; only the wind rushing over your face as the hood flapping in the breeze kept you company. You wanted to talk, to replace the silence, but knew that would earn you a one-way ticket to being placed back into the car and removed from the area because what’s one way of announcing yourself to the enemies? Talking, that's for damn sure.

Your knuckles ached as you clenched your fist tightly, waiting and waiting. At one point, you had to lean onto Sam's back, rest your forehead against his back and take a few steady breaths to prevent hyperventilation as the worst thoughts came to mind.

A loud bang, you at first mistaken for a gunshot and therefore had Sam pushing you to the ground, but soon realised that it was the metal door slamming open. Voices then echoed into the open area. You searched over Sam’s shoulder, and men and women dressed in black began to exit the building. 

You recognise them as part of your team, and the muscles in your and Sam’s bodies relax as you shoot to stand up. However, once again, your bodyguard forces you back: “Easy, Boss Lady, give them a second.”

You knew what he was referring to, as neither of your boyfriends had yet to follow the team out of the building. Just as you were about to push past the protection in front of you and storm the warehouse, the loud door slammed again to allow Natasha, Bucky and Steve to exit.

The brunette man was being supported by the blonde and red-haired, limping on a foot that barely scraped along the floor. The relief that rushed through you was overwhelming as you slumped against the side of the car, sucking in easy breaths as all tension and tightness in your chest eased.

“Hang on, let me call her,” came Steve's distant voice. Before you could react, your phone began to ring loudly, filling the quiet within the area. The two of you had previously been concealed by the multiple vehicles, but there was no hiding that you’d gone directly against Steve’s orders now. The ringing instantly stopped, and you were suddenly face to face with your fuming boyfriend.

Before he could react or speak, you were darting around him and racing towards Bucky, who Natasha was holding up. A whoosh of air burst from his lips as he wrapped his metal arm around your shoulders, holding your body close to his as you breathed him in, gripping the back of his crisp, button-up shirt. He mostly looked the same as when he’d left you hours ago: a black suit, buzzed hair, and clean-shaven hair.

“You let her come?” Bucky asked with indifference and concern, directing the question to Steve, now a step away. You would have been sheepish and embarrassed, but the relief that Bucky was alive was overwhelming as you held him tighter.

“Do you really think I would let her come when you send a text like that?” Steve retorts back with frustration, lacing his words.

Bucky’s hold seemed to loosen slightly as he tried to defend himself: “I asked for SOME backup; I didn’t expect all of this to come! Especially not you.” At first, you assume he’s referring to Steve, but as Bucky gently pushes back against your shoulders, you realise he’s talking to you. Now, the full extent of your embarrassment flushes your cheeks with warmth as you refuse to meet his eye.

Staring down, Bucky is now resting some weight on his foot, which had previously appeared injured. “What happened to your foot? Are you okay? Where else are you injured? I need to see!”

As you spoke, your fingers ran over different body parts, ignoring the burning stare from Steve as you did so. Not happy with being ignored, he stepped forward, standing between Bucky and yourself as Steve cupped your cheeks as he did before leaving, forcing you to look and meet his stare.

Even though you could tell he was angry and frustrated, he was only ever soft and gentle with his touches as he demanded, “What are you doing here? I explicitly told you to stay behind and not to follow!”

Licking your dry lips, you emphasised, “I couldn’t stay at the office knowing Bucky was hurt! Sam was with me the entire time; I was completely safe!”

This was an entirely wrong thing to say to him. His glare turned to your bodyguard, who had remained by the car, leaning against it casually and holding his hands up in defence. “I couldn’t say no to her, alright? She was going to follow whether I liked it or not.”

“The command was to keep her at the office, where it’s safer than standing directly outside the conflict, Wilson.” You flinched at using his surname, something Steve tended not to do when it came to his longtime friend. “It should be fairly simple to read behind the lines and keep her there by any means necessary.”

Now it was your turn to have the fiery rage of anger in your glare as you snapped, “Excuse me? Stop talking about me like I’m not here. What would you have had him do? Tie me to a chair? I don’t think so-”

“That’s exactly what I would have expected him to do”, Steve cuts you off as he leans down so the tips of your noses rub together. “You know what? We aren’t discussing this out here, so get in the car. Please”, he added for good measure. Following his instructions, you climbed into the back of the SUV that you’d arrived with, Bucky following closely behind, sliding in beside you, Steve in the front with Sam driving.

The drive was tense and silent as you thoroughly checked Bucky. He had only slipped on blood and twisted his ankle, which was already nearly back to normal thanks to his healing abilities. You could see Steve’s jaw clenching from the front of the car as he shook his head in disappointment. “Why didn’t you listen to me?” he asked, turning in his seat to look at you directly.

Leaning into Bucky’s side, you didn’t back down from your reasoning, “I’ve already told you why.”

“I never give you orders, not in our personal lives or on the job, but this was important, and I needed you to listen to me.”

“What, so you expect me to just sit pretty at home and wait around all day for you both to come home? What’s the point in me training with Natasha if you don’t even give me the chance to help?”

Bucky's hand squeezed your thigh as he reprimanded, “That’s not what he meant, and you know it”.

 “I don’t think you understand how important your safety is to me. You never come to where the danger is, not out by the warehouse where something could have happened to you, too. You made a stupid decision by not listening to me.

 I can’t lose you, Bucky. I want a life where I know you are safe at home and can protect you or trust the people I pay to look after you. Anything I do now is to ensure I can provide for my family and keep them safe, which means keeping you safe. So, next time I ask you to please remain where there is no danger, I expect you to do so. Do I make myself clear?

“So I’m supposed to stay behind knowing you AND Bucky are in danger? Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that,” Steve answers like it's the simplest thing in the world. It wasn’t; it never was, and you struggled more and more with it every time either of them left to do anything related to the mafia.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say, to argue back to him, but through the fogginess of red, you couldn’t see and feel the urgency with which he spoke. He was scared. As scared as you were for Bucky and Steve, he liked to bottle this emotion up more than anyone you knew. As much as he craved the control of being the leader, you knew he was close to breaking.

Reaching forward, you cupped his face, not wanting to argue anymore. You knew he was saying these things and being firm because he was scared. “I will try, Steve. I’m sorry I scared you, and I’m sorry for not doing as you asked.” Thankfully, he nodded, the tension easing tenfold as he kissed the inside of your palm before turning around in his seat.

Returning to your home, you quickly had Bucky undressed and checked for any further injuries, knowing he liked to downplay them. His ankle, now only a slight yellow hue to the skin, could be moved without any flinching or pain voiced by him, but you sat with his ankle in your lap so that you could hold some ice to the area as he sat in his boxers. 

Steve had gone to shower but had yet to speak to you since being in the car. Guilt lay heavy in your stomach. It wasn’t an argument, but there was still a bitter taste in your mouth as you continued to think about him. Following Steve to the location was more an instinct than a logical thought. These two men meant the world to you.

A cool finger curling around the top of your ear had you pulling out of your thoughts, “What’s going through that pretty little head of yours, Doll?”

“I think I upset Steve”, you say, stating the obvious and leaning heavily into the back of the couch.

“You’ve upset us both”, Bucky reminds you, causing your head to snap in his direction, the unease making you feel queasy. “Woah, I didn’t mean it like that, Sweetheart. We aren’t angry with you; we just never want you to be in danger, you know that”. You nod your head in understanding. 

“I’m worried I’ve broken his trust in me. I should have just stayed back like he said”, you admit sadly. Bucky sits up hearing this, his muscles flexing, working as a quick distraction from your happiness as he moves closer, his metal arm working between your back and the couch so you’re being pulled into his side.

“I can understand why you wanted to come along and check on me, but we know what’s best in these situations. We’ve been doing this a long time, Doll. Everything will be fine. I’ll go and speak to him, and I know he still trusts you; he just needed to clear his head a little bit.” 

Bucky stands, testing his weight on the foot that looks practically healed, before leaning down, kissing your temple, and jogging up the stairs. A few minutes pass before he returns with a grin on his handsome face. 

“He’s fine, exactly like I’d told you. Come on, it’s getting late; let’s go to bed.” Taking his warm hand in your own, you followed willingly. Not realising how exhausted you were from the high emotions of the day and the previous workout at lunchtime, you now thoroughly looked forward to falling into your soft bed with both your partners wrapped around you. 

Bucky stepped into your bedroom first, followed closely by you as you automatically moved towards the en-suite to prepare for bed. In your haste, you did not notice the tall, muscular man waiting for you until his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling your body back against his hard. Squeaking in shock, you soon melted into the hold, especially as Steve’s other hand cradled the front of your throat.

“I’m sorry-“ you’re forced to stop talking as his hand covers your mouth. It was only then that you realised that he was utterly naked, as evidenced by the hardness stabbing into your lower back as you leaned into his hold.

“No talking now, baby girl. Bucky told me what you said downstairs, and let me start this by saying there’s no one I trust more than you, so I never want you to think negatively about that ever again. Next, as much as I’m over the day, I think some repercussions need to happen, don’t you agree, Bucky?”

Stepping so he was standing in front, you watched as Bucky began to slowly remove his boxers until the thick length of his hardened cock sprang up and pointed in your direction. Thankfully, Steve continued to hold you up as your knees began to feel weak with the need to drop to them and please your boyfriend as he licked his lips, nodding his head. “Yeah, I’d say someone has earned a punishment after not listening to orders today”.

Punishment. That one word has you snapping out of the lustful gaze as you try to pull away from Steve. “Shh, easy, Sweetheart. It’s not going to be a painful punishment. I need you to trust me; you trust me, right?”

The fingers covering your lips move enough for you to agree, “Yes, I trust you both quickly”.

“Good,” Steve proudly responds before forcing your legs to move with him. You’re facing the bed now and see that the quilt and pillows have been removed and restraints attached to each corner. “Arms up,” your boyfriend asks, and you comply.

Carefully, the two men begin to strip your clothes until you’re as nude as they are. A shiver runs up your spine as you’re led down to the centre of the bed. Steve begins to remind you of the rules as Bucky tightens the straps around your wrists and ankles until you’re completely tied down.

“We won’t cover your mouth, so you can tell us to stop at any time or red and amber as usual. You can also shake your head, and we will stop, do you understand?”

“Yes”.

“Yes, what?” he says with his eyebrow raised expectantly.

Swallowing audibly, you wished at that moment that you could reach out to touch him as you all fall into the role perfectly. “Yes, sir”.

“Good. Do you have the blindfold, Bucky?”

A black satin eye mask is carefully placed over your eyes until all you can see is darkness. This is followed quickly by headphones that begin to play classical music.

Sensory punishment was their plan, and you couldn’t help but feel trepidation build in your core. You couldn’t touch either man, only the softness of the bed sheet beneath. You couldn’t hear them talk, moan, or specifically praise, which you always worshipped when with the two of them. Without sight, there was no way you’d know when or where they would touch you.

It was a vulnerability that you’d learned to have complete trust in Steve and Bucky.

There was one more twist as leather began to stroke down the centre of your chest in a gentle caress—gloves. Whoever was touching you had put on leather gloves, which meant there was no determining who was touching you. Usually, Bucky’s metal hand would then indicate who was who.

With a heavy breath, you tried to calm your nerves as you focused on the touch as whoever it was explored your chest. Delicate strokes of the gloved palm ran over your breasts, pressing into the softness of your chest and then pinching your already hardened nipple. 

The anticipation and thrill of the situation meant that your upper thighs were already sticky with your arousal. Moreover, there was no covering this with how your legs were spread, and you knew that Steve and Bucky were probably staring right at it.

The mattress dipped between your spread legs as someone crawled between them. The deep breath you were drawing in stilted as firm hands cupped each of your ankles, exploring the skin as they ever so steadily moved to your inner thighs. Trembling was an understatement with how much the anticipation was pulsing through you. The image of a naked Steve and Bucky flicked in your imagination, feeling utterly vulnerable under both of their eye.

Your clit pulsed with desire, awaiting a touch, flick, lick, anything; you were desperate for any sort of touch to ease the ache that was burning through your cunt.

It wasn’t any of these touches, though, that greeted you. It was a raw, penetrating cock stretching you to your limits as it inched in. Your back arched with the intrusion, arms and legs pulling on the restraints with the movement as you tried to adjust to the intrusion.

The words ‘Bucky’ and ‘Steve’ continuously begged from your lips as inch after inch pushed further inside. It hurt to be stretched, but it was a burn that you needed and craved, the blinding pleasure that came with it almost acting as a drug to cover the pain. Maybe you did like pain after all.

Heaving in a breath as the weight of the mysterious hips fitted perfectly in with yours, spreading your thighs further apart. The sensation of the cock being completely inside felt almost like it was too much, and you were sure you had spoken those words out loud, but the noise was muffled with the music continuing to play in your ears.

A sharp sting across your breast had you almost biting the tip of your tongue as you clenched tighter around the hardness inside your walls. Teeth. Sharp teeth nipping at the soft tissue surrounding your nipple came as a welcome distraction.

The first thrust was driven with power, deep and blinding with pleasure, as whoever it was did not hold back, and it was just what you needed. Fast and hard seemed to be the theme of the night as your body moved with the fucking, your hips attempting to roll with the movements, but heavy hands pushed down on your waist, keeping you thoroughly pinned in the centre of the bed.

You were at their mercy. The punishment aspect seemed to be more a reward than anything negative as you accepted every ounce of pleasure both men were willing to give you. The pulsing of your walls increased with the thrusts until that beautiful sensation built, tightened and ready to explode into a sympathy of bliss.

Except, just as your orgasm was about to peak, all hands and cock disappeared from your body, leaving your body cold and empty. Whining and pulling against the restraint, you could do nothing but feel the squeezing of your cunt in the attempts to chase the orgasm fades to nothing.

It truly dawned on you now. The sensory restraints weren’t the punishment. The lack of an orgasm was. Regret already was writhed with the begging coming from your mouth, but it was ignored as the hands resumed their wondering of your breasts and a cock fucked back into you.

With the overwhelming sensations, you were unsure if it was a different cock or the same. You were so thoroughly turned on that the wetness that was coating your cunt and upper thighs aided with them fucking inside of you.

On and on, the pleasure continued, fucking and pausing until finally, whoever it was that was inside of you had reached its limit and quickly pulled out, and a warm, wetness began to coat your stomach.

Steve or Bucky had just come over you instead of inside as you’d preferred. It felt dirty. Degrading and once more added to the punishment as you continued to try and wiggle your hips to continue chasing your pleasure that never peaked. However, there wasn’t even a moment to contemplate this as you’re being fucked once more, presumably by the other boyfriend.

It was an endless cycle. Edged to the point of orgasm before it all comes to a stop, just to have cum sprayed over your abdomen. Usually, Steve and Bucky’s heightened libido was a blessing, but tonight, as they fucked on and on, cumming again and again, you were quickly losing your mind.

The caressing over your nipples thankfully lessened as you could feel the blindfold over your eyes dampen with tears of overstimulation and frustration. Yes, you could scream yellow or red, you could stop this all, but somewhere at the forefront of your mind, you wanted to take this punishment, and there was no one you trusted more than Steve and Bucky; once you had hit your limit, they always stopped. 

The layers of cum coating your stomach began to dry, causing your skin to feel irritated and tight. All the sensations going over your body became disorientating, leaving you feeling spaced and like you were lying on a cloud, suspended in the air, floating with no chance of returning to earth. Your hands were numb from the restraints, your lungs aching from crying and pleading to please orgasm.

Each breath only heightened that sensation until you were close to hyperventilating. A firm gloved hand rested in the centre of your chest, and the pressure helped to remind your spinning mind to slow your breathing as you sucked in a wet, heavy breath.

The fucking continued. It felt like hours had passed. Your cunt was swollen, drenched and sore. From the edging, fucking and touching of the leather-covered fingers. You were sure if this went on for much longer, you’d pass out, so you attempted to hide your face in your shoulder, but the large headphones stopped the movement.

More cum coated your middle, and as your body tensed with the anticipation of being fucked again, you couldn’t help but sob further when it never came. Instead, the headphones are removed from your ears, and the momentary silence causes you to shake your head with disorientation. 

“Easy, Doll. Slow your breathing for us; you did so fucking good; you did so well for us”, Bucky gently praised as he removed the damp blindfold. However, your eyes remained clamped shut as you stayed in that subspace.

Warm hands massaged your arms and legs, working the muscles until they tingled as the sensation returned to them as you were released from the restraints. “Careful, Baby, move slowly. That’s it, good girl”. Steve’s voice was calming and yet distant as your sobs echoed in your ears.

“Can you open your eyes for us? Let’s see those pretty eyes come on,” Bucky coaxed as his cool metal fingers stroked against your wet cheek. The touch was soothing and grounding, like the praising words and comfort. However, you couldn’t muster the energy to open your eyes, so instead, you nuzzled into his palm and concentrated on slowing your breath enough that the tears finally stopped.

What followed was utter exhaustion, physically and mentally. Thankfully, this is where your boyfriends shine as you’re quickly scooped into Steve’s arms, your head feeling heavy against his muscular shoulder, leaning further into his natural body heat as he carried you into the bathroom.

You were half asleep as he waited for Bucky to fill the bath with warm water, but as he carefully eased the two of you into the tub, did you wake enough to hiss through your teeth as the heat of the water surrounded your aching body. Even as the warmth soothed your cunt, as you naturally clenched, the soreness throbbing caused a pathetic whine to come from you.

Steve’s arms held you more firmly as he settled back in the tub, Bucky joining behind with his chest pressing against your side. After a couple of breaths, the water's warmth helped you relax until you were blissed out, the punishment long forgotten as you nearly fell into a deep sleep in their arms.

Aftercare was always something they did very well. Both men were so attentive and caring that you would have shed a tear with love and affection if you weren't already mentally numb. Bucky carefully washed your hair and then your body with his body wash, pine and citrus scent that gave you further comfort in these moments. Also, you secretly thought that Bucky used it as a possessive touch, loving it when you smelled like him and no one else.

Steve continued to whisper words of affirmation, helping to bring you out of the submissive headspace and back to reality whilst also trying to check in on your well-being. “Shake or nod your head for answers. Are you in any pain?”

Shaking your head no, you could feel the tenseness in Steves's posture relax as he kisses your temple reassuringly. “You took your punishment so well tonight. I’m so proud of you”. This particular praise had you smiling and leaning further into their touches. “I think that’s the longest you’ve been edged for as well. Do you want to cum? You aren’t being punished anymore, and I think you’ve more than earned a reward”.

You could hear the smile in his tone as you contemplated his offer. You were sore and aching, that was for sure, and you’d been begging for so long to have an orgasm all night, so with some uncertainty, you nodded against his chest.

With gentle touches, Steve turns your body so you’re now facing Bucky, your back pressed against the blonde’s sturdy chest. Carefully, Steve eases your thighs apart, and just as you anticipate the pain that is sure to come with being fucked by fingers or a cock, you’re crying out in pleasure as Bucky lowers his face and dives right in. 

Your eyes open in shock as your body jolts with the sensation of his warm, soft tongue circling your clit as you look down at Bucky, the lower part of his face beneath the water. You were so sensitive and so desperate to orgasm that he didn’t even need to come up for air before you were tightening and throbbing with bliss.

You’re left feeling sated, and your body turns to mush as you collapse back against Steve. You’re only half aware when lifted out of the water and carefully dried. An oversized, soft t-shirt is pulled over your head before you return to the bed.

With your face pressed to Bucky’s chest as Steve spooned you from behind, legs completely tangled with your own, your last thoughts lingered on the day's events. It seemed so did both of your boyfriends as they held you tighter, and an echoing of “I love you” was shared before darkness finally consumed you all. 

[secretsandwriting]

Besties, batmom is apparently my favorite thing to write because I somehow managed to turn a drabble into 6k words???? Its 1k more then earned position idk how I did this??? Anyways, have this and enjoy.

I'm also trying to get more comfortable writing for Duke so bear with me as I figure out how I want to write his character.

Too Perfect

Not beta read

6.3k words

You smiled as you watched the Wayne kids mess around together in the corner of the gala. They looked like they were having a lot of fun together, it was heartwarming how close they looked. The way Jason had his arm thrown around Tim has they laughed at Dick teasing Damian by holding something he wanted just out of reach. Cassandra watched from her spot in Tim’s shadow. Signing away when something came to mind. Jason and Tim would translate for the other two so she was still heard while they were distracted.

Damian ended up kicking Dick’s ankle so he could finally grab what turned out to be his phone. Jason seemed to think it was hysterical and a good method while Tim sided with Dick claiming physical violence was not the answer. Cass just seemed to be trying to make everything worse, smiling when she said something that got them arguing harder. 

“Rowdy bunch no matter what I do.” Bruce suddenly appeared next to you, his tone fond as he smiled at his kids antics. “Are they bothering you?” You looked away from the kids to their father. 

“Not at all. I’m happy to see them able to act like kids in high society. Most lose the chance and ability to be anything other then perfect young.” Bruce hummed, about to say something when your watch beeped. “That’s my cue to leave. I have a long day of ahead of me tomorrow.”

“It is quite late. Thank you for coming, I hope you had a good time.” He gave you his famous smiled, the one that had most girls swooning. 

“I did! It was quite a lovely night. Thank you for the invite!” You returned his smile before heading out the door and too your car.

A few weeks later you found yourself at your favorite cafe. Stepping carefully, you tried to avoid the ice on your way in. The recent snow storm happening almost immediately after rain had made the roads and sidewalks horrible. The plows and salt helped but it was still a disaster. 

Opening the door, the warm air enveloped you. The scent of coffee and baked goods heavy in the air, producing a comforting feeling and making you forget about the snow and ice outside for a minute. The line wasn’t long but you had left early enough it wouldn’t have mattered if it was out the door. 

Your usual was punched in the second you got up to the register, the barista just chatting with you instead of asking. A testament to how often you came. Moving away after you were done paying so the person behind you could order, you hummed along to the song playing over the radio. You checked your phone for any texts about work for the day and ran through your mental checklist to make sure you were ready for the day. 

Your checklist was interrupted by your name as your coffee was set on the counter. Grabbing it you took a sip and sighed. It was too early for all of this. Heading out the door, you tried to be just as careful as you were going in. Tried being the keyword. You slipped on the ice, there was no way you could stop from falling so you just braced for impact. 

It never came, instead you found yourself leaning against someone. They helped you back up, hand gentle on your back as they made sure you were standing without risk of falling again. 

“You ok?” Turning around to thank them, you were met with Bruce Wayne. Concern swimming in his eyes. Your coffee was in his other hand, he must of noticed your glance at it because he handed it back to you. “I figured you wouldn’t want to have to go back for another one.”

“Yes, thank you for catching both me and my coffee!” He smiled as he stepped back. 

“It was no trouble!” He gave you another smile before turning around and heading into the coffee shop, you didn’t notice the steaming coffee on the ground near you as you turned and headed back to your car. Thinking about how it was odd you had seen him twice in a couple weeks.

Browsing the books in the little shop, you let out a sigh when you realized they didn’t have the book you wanted. That's what you get for slacking and waiting a month after getting the notification they had it in stock. Deciding to do the best thing and leave before you end up with a stack of books you don’t need, you headed for the door. Promising yourself you would come earlier next time. 

You were interrupted from your thoughts by Bruce Wayne looking completely lost. He kept glancing down at a paper in his hand and back up at the shelf. Eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find something. He had helped you at the cafe so maybe you could repay the favor. 

“What are you looking for?” He whipped around like you had just jumped out and screamed at him. You stifled a laugh but your smile still slipped through. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly a little embarrassed before squaring his shoulders and looking down at his list. 

“I didn’t know you worked here… Jason asked me to pick up these books for him.” He handed you the list. You scanned through the titles, all classics. He was in the fiction on the opposite side of the store from the classics.

“I don’t, I just shop here way too much. These would be over here.” He snorted as he followed you through the store. You listened to him as he talked about his kids. Laughing at the mischief they caused and smiling at the clearly fond tone as he told you about the random little things they had done. You had alway wanted kids but every time you tried, something happened. EIther breakups or problems getting pregnant. So you found yourself living through Bruce’s stories. Imaging having your own kids who pulled similar stunts or the things they would do. Once all of the books were picked out and paid for, you prepared to split ways.

“Would you like to go to dinner sometime?” Bruce asked. You stopped and stared at him, his cheeks turning a light pink under your gaze. You reached into your bag to pull out a pen and paper, jotting down your number and handing it to him. 

“I would love to!”

Dinner was at your favorite restaurant, so you knew the food was good. The conversation was a little awkward but it wasn’t long until you were easily conversing. Talking about everything from work, his kids latest adventures, to politics. 

He was a perfect gentleman the entire night. Opening all the doors, pulling out your chair for you, kind to all the staff, understanding of any mistakes that had happened and still tipped them well. The butterflies in your stomach had fed on that to become stronger and make you feel more sick then nervous at times. 

After dinner, you went for a walk in a park nearby. The night chill was kept away by the laughter between you too as you shared ridiculous stories. When you decided it was late and you needed to leave, Bruce walked you to your car and waited until you left to leave.

“Did you walk her to her car when you left?” Jason was the first at the door to question him. Sometimes Bruce really wondered if Jason was actually going to do his whole revenge plan with how he acts with the family now. At the end of the night he was just glad Jason was alive and around to question his every move. 

“Of course I did. Who do you think I am?” Jason paused like he was searching for something to insult Bruce with as his response but Tim slid into the room and immediately started questioning him. 

“Did you open the doors for her?” Bruce signed. He really should try to hide more of his dating life from them. 

“I opened the doors and pulled her chair out for her. And,” He turned and looked at Damian who had just run into the room. “I asked about her day and listened.” Damian nodded like he was proud of Bruce. He just shook his head at his boys. 

“But did you extend the date to go a litt-” 

“We went on a walk after dinner.” Dick huffed at being interrupted but he was pleased with the answer. Bruce turned his attention to Cass so he wouldn’t miss her question. 

“Yes, I did tell her she looked pretty tonight.” Cass grinned and nodded. 

You smiled at your phone as you read the text from Bruce followed with a short video of Damian ranting about not being allowed to pet the tigers. You had been texting with him daily between work and whatever else you had to do ever since the date. There had been regular phone calls and now regular facetimes every night as well as your 5th date happening Saturday night. 

Bruce had been nothing but a gentleman the entire relationship. Something you weren’t fully used to yet. There was nothing you would change. Communication was great, boundaries were being respected, there was no pressure, and there were no lies. It was almost too perfect.

Bruce wanted to introduce you to the kids and they all wanted to meet you. According to Bruce, despite never meeting you, they all claimed they would go with you if there was a breakup. You had just laughed it off when he told you. Figuring it was just something they were joking about as a way to tease their father. 

“They’ll love you!” Bruce reassured you as you walked up to the manor door. “They were all excited to find out you were coming tonight. Dick and Jason made sure they had the night off so they could come.” You really wanted him to stop talking. He was only making this worse. 

The door opened and the first thing you heard was yelling. Bruce just sighed next to you. Alfred took your coat after introducing himself, informing you it would be another half hour before dinner would be done and then leaving to go work on it.

As you followed Bruce in, the yelling got louder. You were headed towards the boys, the volume of their yelling made it obvious when you were almost there. You made it in time to see Jason holding Tim up by the collar as Damian cheered and Dick tried to get Jason to let go of Tim. Tim was interrupting Dick’s attempts to keep arguing with Jason, making his chances to get put down lower. Cass was just sitting on the couch watching everything go down, when she spotted you, she came over and offered to give you a tour of the manor. You of course accepted and left with Cass while Bruce stayed to deal with the boys.

You took the time to get to know a little about Cass, carefully paying attention when she talked slow and quietly. While you weren’t the most fluent with sign language you could normally make out what she was saying, at least a little bit. Along the way, Duke joined you, adding in jokes here and there and helping to translate for Cass when you struggled to understand what she was saying. 

The tour ended in the dining room where the others waited. You felt a little better about it when Cass and Duke insisted you sit with them. It made you feel like you could do this and like it wouldn’t go too badly. After all, two of them liked you now… At least they seemed too. 

Steph joined shortly after you were seated, apologizing about being late and rambling about a project she was working on. With that, Dinner was started. Along with the absolutely amazing food, you got to learn more about the kids Bruce had collected. 

Dick was a police officer in Bludhaven, he had moved after a fight with Bruce that had been resolved but decided he liked it there and the freedom that came with it and stayed. He had adjusted to living on his own relatively smoothly and loved it when his siblings dropped by. He was offered a promotion recently but he wasn’t sure if he wanted it. He was also very glad Bruce was in a serious relationship because maybe he would back off on his parenting. 

Jason loved books, especially the classics. He was the most obviously dramatic of them all and loved to play things up. He had gotten kidnapped and went no contact with Bruce when he came back. He had made up with Bruce recently but it was still a little rocky sometimes. His apartment gets regularly broken into by his siblings and he claimed to hate it but the look in his eyes told you he really didn’t mind it and truly liked that they felt safe coming to him. 

Tim was the CEO of W.E, something he took great pride in. He also likes mysteries so he looks into police cases and tried to solve them before the police. He likes working with computers and figuring out bugs in programs, something he likes to do with Barbara. He really likes coffee, drinks more then he should but won’t stop. He doesn’t have a spleen anymore and somehow he managed to keep that a secret from the family until recently. And while he violently denied it, go as far to punch Dick when he suggested it, Tim was extremely protective of his family.

Damian loves animals, going as far to become vegetarian after saving a cow from a slaughter house. He collects pets and despite the large amount he had, he still took perfect care of them. His favorite subject in school is history but his favorite class is art. He likes painting and according to everyone he’s absolutely amazing at it. He lived with his mom until he was 10 when she sent him to live with his dad. He knew Jason first because Jason had joined his family after he had been kidnapped. While Damian claimed he disliked his brothers, it was very obvious he truly cared about them and loved them deeply. 

Duke had recently moved into the manor and was still getting used to having enough money to spend on things other than necessities. He had started helping Tim figure out what charities to donate to the most and regularly worked with Jason on helping kids on the streets. He was part of the We Are Robin movement, something he spoke about with great pride as well as pain. He liked collecting cards for a game and was very excited when you asked to see his collection. He had also been arrested, something you couldn’t picture about the sweet boy next to you. 

Steph was also vegetarian and she loves bubble tea and other fruity drinks. She regularly works with Human Rights Activists and wants to help as many people as possible. She loves going out for girls days and forcing her brothers into facemasks and other similar things. She’s big on quality time, one of the ones who drops by Dick’s and Jason’s apartments the most. She likes podcasts, apparently its all she listens to and she gives good recommendations. She also loves watching darmas for the sole purpose of laughing at the stupid plot points. 

Cass loves ballet, she finds it fun and relaxing. Due to a bad childhood she struggles with talking and understanding words but she’s been working on it. She really likes sign language and was very happy when the rest of the family touched up their skills or learned it to make communicating easier for her. She’s also big on quality time, the other one who drops in the most. She just likes to sit quietly with other people while doing their each doing their own thing. She really likes chocolate ice cream and knows the best brands. She likes to randomly scare her siblings, she thinks its funny when they jump and scream. 

The entire dinner, as you talked and listened to the kids, Bruce just grinned from his spot. Happy to have his kids and girlfriend all together and wishing the peace would last forever. After dinner, you moved to the living room where the talking continued until late in the night. 

After the dinner, you spent more time at the manor and with the kids. Cass invited you to her ballet recitals and sometimes asked for a ride when Bruce and Jason were busy. Steph invited you to go out with her, drinks and window shopping became a biweekly thing. Damian would invite you to help with his animals, he would tell you things he knew about them as you worked. He would also requests rides from school when needed. Duke would tell you about the new cards he had gotten and their stats and would invite you to go hunting for rare ones with him. Jason started a book club with you, you would meet once a week to discuss what you had read and whatever else was on his mind. Tim would get your opinion on cases he was trying to solve, you would get coffee and try to solve the case. Dickwould invite you to join him for gossip, you would trade gossip about the cities and whatever else you knew. 

Overall, you got along well with the kids. Something you were happy about and something that made Bruce fall in love with you more and more the more he saw you interact with them or when they would talk about everything they had done with you. His kids were his life, and to have you come in and love and care for them like they were your own meant more then he could ever hope to put into words. 

Your relationship with Bruce was perfect. He was a gentleman who always treated you right an made sure you were well taken care of, His kids liked you and you absolutely adored them. He was the best partner you had ever had and your relationship was healthier then you had even thought possible. It was absolutely perfect.

Too perfect. Something wasn’t lining up. The injuries, the slow texts at night when you knew he had nothing planned and the kids were busy, the secret basement. Something was going on. Sp you did the only thing you could think of. You documented everything. 

Every mystery scratch, bruise, broken bone, it was all written down. After a week you noticed a pattern. Everytime Batman got into a bad fight and was injured, Bruce had the same injury the very next day. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be Batman, it had to be a coincidence so you kept documenting. Hoping to get a different answer. 

2 weeks in, your questions started multiplying. Steph had broken her leg right about the time spoiler was thrown off a roof by the villain of the week and had to be carried away by Red Hood. That couldn’t be right.

Week 3 had Damain getting mugged and stabbed the same night Robin was stabbed by a henchman after being overwhelmed. 

Week 4 Jason was shot when helping a kid in an alley the same night Red Hood was shot busting a human trafficking ring. 

Week 5 Cass broke her arm falling down the stairs the day after Black Bat broke hers in combat. 

Week 6 Tim ran into a wall and got a concussion the day after Red Robin was thrown into a wall and was carried away by Nightwing yelling about a concussion. 

Week 7 Dick was shot off duty by someone wanting revenge the same night Nightwing was shot busting a robbery. 

By week 8 you couldn’t deny it. Something is going on and you wanted an explanation. So you set a time to meet with Bruce at the manor using the dreaded “We need to talk.” You met at the manor when all the kids were out and busy so it was just the two of you. Bruce was clearly nervous and unsure of what exactly you wanted to talk about. 

You just handed him all your notes and waited. You watched as he read and all the nervousness practically melted off him and was replaced by an unreadable calm. A sinking feeling filled your stomach as you hoped he would tell you the truth and not lie like everyone else who had switched up like that. Bruce read silently, reading every line carefully before moving onto the next one. 

Hes coming up with excuses. 

Your mind supplied. You tried to push the thought away. Bruce hadn’t lied about anything so far in your relationship. He had just hidden something and he hid it because it was dangerous. Yeah, it was too dangerous to just tell people right away but you had been dating for 6 months so he could trust you with it now. He was going to tell you soon or he just didn’t know how to bring it u-

“I’m not sure why you think I could be Batman? Me?” Oh.

“Bruce, it’s too many coinc-”

“Y/n, I’m not batman and the kids are vigilantes either. Yes it’s definitely weird it lines up so well but it doesn’t mean anything.” He was lying, you could see the spark of panic in his eyes as he tried to convince you that it wasn’t real. It told you everything you needed to know. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you spoke. 

“You’re right. It is a bit weird, but I believe you. I’m glad I could get some confirmation.” Bruce smiled at you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “I have a meeting I need to get to, I’ll see you later.” You kissed him goodbye and went straight home, blocking his number from the comfort of your bed. You weren’t going to date another liar. 

The next morning, you accepted the out of country transfer your job had offered you. You packed up and left within a week. You had gotten a few texts from the kids asking how you were and you made sure to respond to them. They seemed to understand you needed space and didn’t text you much after that first week. You were thankful they understood and appreciated that they never mentioned their father to you. 

Your first week in your new home you had gotten sick. Nothing seemed to help so you went into the doctor. Turns out you and Bruce hadn’t been as careful as you thought you had been. The positive pregnancy test, a testament to how nothing seemed to go as planned the past month. 

Thankfully your job and doctor helped you find resources to help you get along as a soon to be single mother in a foreign country. With all the help you had been provided, it would hopefully go as smooth as possible given the circumstances. 

Eleven months later, you found yourself back in Gotham. Nothing seemed to change while you were gone, the city was the same dreary city with extremely high crime rates but you had missed it. As horrible as it was, Gotham was home. 

A friend had helped you move your things into your new apartment, the nursery had taken priority so Penelope would hopefully be able to sleep through most of the rest of the moving. Wishful thinking, Penny had been nothing but a handful. Her favorite activity seemed to be wailing as loud as her little lungs would allow her whenever you were trying to get any sort of semblance of rest. Sometimes, you wondered if you hadn’t connected the dots, if Bruce being around would help with the stress. If it would have made your pregnancy smoother and now if you would be able to sleep a little more. 

Penelope had just settled down for a nap when there was a knock on your door. You sighed as your plans for a nap were ruined by whoever was knocking, half tempted to just ignore them. Another knock, this time louder. They would wake Penny if you didn’t answer the door so you went to see who needed you so desperately. A redhead girl in a wheelchair smiled at you as you opened the door. Barbara your mind supplied. 

“Sorry to drop by so suddenly but I wanted to talk to you about Bruce and Penelope.” You sighed again, you knew this would come and that you would have to talk about it. You stepped aside and let Barbara in, closing the door behind her. 

“Penny just went down for a nap so we need to be quiet. Can I get you something to drink?” Barbara got settled at the table, looking around quietly while you got her drink. She took a sip of it while you sat down across from her, setting the glass on the table and turning her attention to you. 

“Are you going to tell Bruce about Penelope?” Straight to the point.

“Eventually.”

“Would you consider dating Bruce again if he apologized and told you the truth first this time?”

“It depends on what the truth is and how good his apology is.” She nodded, thinking for a second.

“Bruce doesn’t know you’re back yet. I’ve managed to keep it from him and Tim. Just like I did with all your google searches about their injuries. I was hoping he’d tell you the truth then but he’s so stubborn. I’m going to tell them tomorrow that you're back, I just wanted to get your thoughts about it before I did so I could hopefully curb anything that was unwanted.” From there you talked about random things, getting to know her and catching up on everything that had happened in Gotham while you were gone. The conversation was interrupted by Penny’s crying. Barbara left, claiming Bruce should be the first to meet Penny. 

“I won’t mention Penny. I’ll leave that for you to do when you're ready.” She offered you a smile before wheeling herself out of your apartment. As you fed Penny, you thought about your conversation with Barbara. Bruce was unblocked later that night. 

Your phone lit up with Bruce’s name the next night. He asked to meet and talk in a park that was always empty. He promised he would tell you the truth and apologized for lying before. You agreed.

You caught up with him for a little bit before Bruce mentioned your conversation before you left. He admitted you were right and he had just panicked. He apologized for lying again and told you that he should have never brushed you off like he had, even if it had been fake. 

He told you about how it all started, how he got Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, and Damian. How he had found Steph and Duke. About what happened with Barbara. He told you about his missions, the justice league, his paranoia, and trust issues. You listened to him silently for hours. 

Hours later, once he had gone over everything. You agreed to try again.

After your second first date with Bruce, the kids started reaching out to you again. You had forgotten how much you enjoyed their presence in your life. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you had used to due to needing to take care of Penny and the price of sitters being too expensive. 

You had decided to tell Bruce about Penny on your fourth date. You would tell him at dinner and invite him over to meet her. Unfortunately your sitter canceled last minute right before your third date. You considered canceling but you needed to tell Bruce and there was a high chance you would chicken out later on. 

So you wrestled Penny into a cute outfit and into the dreaded car seat, the one she screamed at like it was going to eat her when you put her in. She thankfully fell asleep in the car, making it easier for you to go in faster. You were already late as it was. 

Bruce saw you walk in and was about to stand up to greet you when he saw the carseat and froze. You took a deep breath and went over to the table, gently setting her down while you took your own seat. Bruce looked over to you, questions clearly written all over his face. 

“She’s yours. I found out a week after I moved. She’ll be 4 months old in a week. You can hold her when she wakes up if you want.” “What’s her name?”

“Penelope Avery Wayne.” He sucked in a breath, trying to hold his tears back. Penny slept through the whole meal, giving you time to talk. Bruce asked all about her and how your pregnancy went. 

He followed you back to your apartment and just watched Penny sleep as you talked on the couch. When she woke up and started wailing when she realized she was still in the horrid carseat, you gently pulled her out and handed her to Bruce. 

She quieted down when given her freedom from the seat, her big blue eyes meeting Bruce’s own. She smiled up at him as she shoved her fist in her mouth, inspecting him from her spot in his arms. Bruce cooed over her as he wiped the tears from his eyes as he held his little girl for the first time. 

The second his other kids found out about Penny, there was a group outside your door begging to see her and offer their babysitting services. Every single one of them adored her and wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Penny soaked up the attention like a little sponge.

Cass and Duke were her favorites but she still loved all the others. Bruce was over whenever he could be to help, taking a very active roll in Penny’s care. You barely lifted a finger, only having to feed her when Bruce was around. 

You eventually agreed to move into the manor with Bruce. All the kids were ecstatic. It would make seeing you and Penny easier for them. Bruce and Tim convinced you to quit your job, Tim promised you work at W.E if you were set on working and all the others offered to bring you along when they went to help out at their favorite charities and organizations. 

Bruce made sure he was open and honest about everything, including his Batman adventures. The kids all came to you when he pissed them off or made a call that they didn’t like or they thought was unfair. Things were looking up and you hoped they stayed that way. 

They stayed up, in fact they went higher than you thought it could. They went higher and higher and Tim was the one who started it. 

“Hey mom, do you know where my black dress shoes are? I have a meeting I need them for.” You just stared at him, trying not to cry. Tim looked up, trying to figure out why you weren’t answering him and then why you looked like you were about to cry. You knew the second he figured it out, his face going bright red.

“I’m sorry! It just slipped! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable ot anything! I’l-” You cut him off.

“It’s ok Tim! You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was just surprised. You’re more than welcome to call me mom if that’s what you want. You’re shoes are in the coat closet to the left.” He nodded and went to grab them. 

“Thanks mom!” He called out as he stepped out the door to head to work. You couldn’t hold the tears back once the door was shut and again when you told Bruce that night. He just smiled as he held you while you cried, happy to know his family was doing well together. 

Dick did it next. He had come over to celebrate finishing a tough case as Nightwing. He brushed past Bruce and came straight to you. Wrapping you into a hug, you hugged him back and waited until he pulled away to let go. Bruce let out a teasing scoff, clearly not upset but pretending to be. Dick pulled away to look at Bruce.

“I came for Alfred’s food and to get praise for my good job from Mom.” He stuck his tongue out at Bruce before coming back in for another hug. You held him tight, tears welling up in your eyes again. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” He inspected you closely before breaking out in a grin. “Is is because I called you mom? Aww!” He hugged you again. “You shouldn’t be crying because I called you mom, you should be crying because it means you can never leave us. You’re stuck here with us forever.”

“That’s a good thing. I love all of you so much I could never leave you guys.” Dick hugged you tighter. You didn’t mention his teary eyes when he pulled away. 

Cass started calling you mom shortly after. She used it when she signed for you. It took everything not to cry at her performance when she used it for the first time. Once she started, she refused to call you anything else. You were mom and everyone knew exactly who she was referring to when she did it with the others. 

Duke jokingly started calling you “Mom 2”. He had apologized later on if it offended you. He still had his mom and while she wasn’t all there anymore she was still his mom and that title belonged to her. You had held him as you both cried, reassuring him that it didn’t bother you and you had no problems with it or with him just calling you by your name. Promising him that you would never be offended over something like this and he shouldn’t feel pressured to call you anything other than your name if he didn’t want to. 

Damian was next, you knew his mom was still alive and that he cared for her greatly even though their relationship was a bit rough. So you expected him to just call you by your name, it never bothered you and was something you just never thought about. It was up to him to decide what he was comfortable calling you. 

“Ummi, can we take Penny to the Zoo next week? I want to show her the baby lion the was just born.” Damian had run into the kitchen to ask, interrupting your breakfast with Bruce but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

“Of course, we can go after you get out of school on tuesday.” Damian cheered and went to tell Penny the news. The 8 month old having no clue what was going on but feeding off of Damian’s excitement. 

“Y/n,” you turned to look at Bruce.  “Ummi means mother in arabic.” You stared at him like he grew another head. “Damian just called you mother.” Bruce pulled you into a hug as you realized another one of his kids viewed you as safe enough to be their mother. Bruce gently rocked you in the kitchen as you tried not to cry again.

Jason’s happened next, you would have been more excited if you hadn’t been so terrified. You had gotten nervous with all of them out on patrols so Bruce had given you a com so you could listen and know that they were ok. Unfortunately it also let you hear everything going wrong. 

You nudged past Bruce to get to Jason. He was laying on a bed, freshly patched up after a really bad mission. He had been stabbed 3 times and shot 6 more times. He was out cold but Alfred assured you he would be ok if he took the time needed to heal. You didn’t leave his bedside for 3 days while he slept. Worried that the second you stepped away something bad would happen to him. 

“Mom?” You jerked out of your thoughts and looked to Jason. He was barely awake and looked scared. He looked every bit of the little boy he had lost in the explosion and it broke your heart and made you glad Bruce had stepped out to put Penny to bed so he didn’t have to see it. 

“I’m here. What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” He whispered a yes so you called Alfred to up the pain meds, staying with him until he was fully lucid and kicked you out to get some rest. 

Jason stayed in the manor for a few weeks and let you, Bruce, and Alfred nurse him to help. Alfred pulled you aside and asked that in the future if any of them get hurt badly again, that you weaponize the look of horror and sadness you had when Jason tried to leave early that made him stay longer. You agreed to try, especially if it would make the chances of them healing better higher. 

Bruce proposed shortly after, of course you said yes and the wedding planning began. A year later you were officially married. In that one day, you got a Husband and 7 kids, making for a total of 8 children. Well 9 if you counted the baby from the test you had taken the night before the wedding. 

“Say Y/n’s Pregnant!” The photographer yelled as she started snapping pictures, perfectly capturing the moment your family processed what she had said. 

Things were good. You were happy with your family and you knew that even through the hard parts, you would be ok. 

[hanniebaeee]

Code Love

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing!!

Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufffff

Summary: Hyunjin is a brilliant post doc at the lab where you're perusing your PhD. He is such a sweet and sexy genius, and you are completely in love.

a/n : For all my science/research girlies 🤭

It was another late night at the lab. You were squinting at the test tubes in front of you trying to make sense of the results. But you were struggling to concentrate with the way your heart was pounding.

He was just sitting there, at his workstation, effortlessly spinning a pipette between his long, elegant fingers. Nothing for your dramatic heart to pound like that.

“Did you hear me, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut through your thoughts.

“Huh?” you blinked, attempting to act like you hadn’t just been imagining how those fingers would feel on your - never mind.

“I said,” Hyunjin grinned, “you’re incubating that reaction too long.”

“Oh, um, I knew that” you fumbled with the timer, cheeks heating up. “Totally knew that. Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“Sure, no problem,” he said, eyes sparkling like he enjoyed watching you unravel.

God, why was he like this?

That face? Those lips? And that brain? This was unfair. He had to have some flaw - how can a man be this perfect?

“Are you staying late tonight?” he asked casually, leaning back in his chair.

“I have to,” you mumbled. “This experiment is dragging on, and I have to submit the report by the end of the week.”

Hyunjin hummed, and said, “Oh good, I'll have some company then.”

You could literally see him doodling flowers into his book - he had nothing to do here. But yet every time you had to stay in late, he'd be hanging around too. Just the two of you.

Your brain immediately betrayed you, fueling your wild fantasy where he wasn’t staying late for work but because he secretly wanted to spend time alone with you. You were fighting so hard to maintain a shred of professionalism, but it was so hard when he was looking at you like that.

Hyunjin hummed softly under his breath as he continued to doodle, the sound sending tingles down your spine. Of course he was a good singer too. You just didn't understand what the universe even wanted from you anymore.

---

“I swear to God, Ji, if he twirls that pipette one more time, I’m going to launch myself across the lab bench, and just -” You were sprawled on the sofa in Jisung's apartment, sighing dramatically.

Jisung was your work bestie, working in the lab next door to yours. And he was the only one in the world who knew about your extreme devotion to Hyunjin.

Jisung burst out laughing, as he said, “This is bad, babe,”

“Bad? Jisung, I seriously can't even think when he's around.” you said. “Oh my God!!”

“Have you considered just telling him you like him?” Jisung smirked.

“Right, and ruin the perfectly good thing we have going where I pine silently while he ruins me with his brilliance? No, thank you.”

“You’re hopeless.”

---

The next late-night session happened way too soon, where Hyunjin wandered over to your bench, peering at your data from over your shoulder. He leaned in close, the scent of cologne (or whatever pheromones that he's sending your way) invading your senses - it's simply intoxicating.

“Want me to take a look at that?” he asked, “You've been spending way too much time on it.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, trying not to stutter. “It’s just...a lot of noise in the data.”

“Let me see,” he said, pulling a stool next to you. He reached for the keyboard, and your heart fluttered as his fingers brushed yours.

You wanted to cry. Please don't be so sweet and sexy at the same time, you begged internally. You cursed your body for betraying you with every glance while he explained what he was doing. You could feel the tension in your shoulders as you tried to focus on what he was saying.

Get a grip, Y/N, you reminded yourself. This is professional. Stop fantasizing about this ridiculously hot man who’s inexplicably obsessed with helping you.

When he finally looked up, you realized you’d been staring at him the whole time.

“What?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Nothing... thanks. You’re really good at this,” you stammered.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“You’re good at this too, Y/N. We all have our bad days. Don’t sell yourself short.” he said, patting your shoulder gently before standing up.

You felt your heart squeeze at the sincerity in his tone, and you watched as he went back to his own seat.

Stop it. He’s being nice. Don’t read into it. Just focus on the work.

But it was so hard not to read into it. The way he leaned closer when he spoke, the way his fingersa brushed against yours when he passed you something, and the way he was always so soft with you.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

“Y/N, I’m begging you. BEGGING. Tell him. I'm sure he's dying to hear it.” Jisung said, smiling at the girl who handed over our coffees at the cafe.

“You don’t get it! I can't risk it, if he's just being nice, then -”

“Babe,” Jisung drawled, “what world do you live in?!”

“Don’t give me hope, Ji.” you sighed as you walked towards your lab, the early morning breeze cool against your skin.

“Hope? The man stays late every time you do, flirts with you nonstop, and compliments you after he does your work for you. At this point, I’m falling for him,” Jisung said, throwing his hands up. “Seriously, babe, if you don’t jump him soon, I might.”

---

The cold room was your least favorite part of the lab. You hated everything about it - the freezing temperature, its claustrophobic size and the damn protein extraction procedure that drained the life out of you.

But here you were, miserably clutching your samples and praying for the nightmare to end soon.

“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice echoed through the door as it opened, and you turned to see him stepping in.

Great. Now you were cold and flustered.

“How's the extraction going?” he asked, his tone light as he slipped on his gloves.

“Going wonderfully,” you muttered, shivering despite your layers.

He grinned, coming closer and watching you work.

“Do you want me to take over?” He asked, making you sigh.

“And miss out on the joy of freezing to death? Never,” you joked weakly, and Hyunjin laughed. “You're too nice, Hyunjin. But I've got this.”

“Nice?” he repeated, leaning back slightly but still watching you intently. “You sure about that?”

You froze, suddenly way too aware of how close he was standing. Was he teasing you? Was this flirting?

“I- I mean, yeah,” you stammered, breaking eye contact. “You’re always helping me...”

“Maybe I have my reasons.” Hyunjin tilted his head, his smile softening.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you asked, “Reasons?”

Before he could answer, the door swung open.

“How's your favorite experiment going?” Jisung's loud voice floated in. “Oh, hi Hyunjin!”

You didn't know if you wanted to strangle Jisung for ruining the moment or hug him for saving you from it.

Hyunjin, ever the sweetheart, just laughed and said, “Hi Jisung, I think she's doing just fine,”

“Of course she is,” Jisung said, moving aside for Hyunjin to step out.

“What was that?” He asked as soon as Hyunjin left.

“What are you doing here?!” you hissed. “We were getting somewhere, but also, if you hadn't come I would've fainted. Like I feel so dizzy, my gloves are all wet from sweating-”

“Y/N,” Jisung said, gripping your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “You like him. He obviously likes you. The universe is literally freezing you together in this cold room to force you to act. Next time, please -”

It was barely 5 am, and you groaned as you shuffled into the lab, your hair in a messy bun and sleep still stinging your eyes. But the bacterial cultures didn’t care about your sleep schedule - or lack thereof.

Throwing on your lab coat and gloves with the grace of a zombie, you started checking the growth plates with bleary eyes.

You’d barely managed to finish when Jisung strolled in, carrying two steaming cups of coffee.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, setting a cup in front of you.

“I love you, Ji,” you muttered, taking the first sip and feeling a spark of life return to your body. “I don't know why I wanted to be a scientist.”

Jisung plopped down next to you, snickering, and started scrolling through his phone while you leaned your head against his shoulder. And he rested his head against yours, before placing a quick peck on your temple.

You were starting to fall asleep, when the lab door creaked open.

You both glanced up to see Hyunjin walk in. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he stopped at the door for a second, his eyes fixed on you.

“Morning,” he greeted, and you gave him a small wave, still too sleepy to form words. Jisung returned the greeting, and then left quickly.

You noticed Hyunjin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. That's new. He moved to his workstation, setting down his bag and pulling out his laptop.

You sat up straighter, something about Hyunjin’s silence gnawing at you. He didn’t even glance your way, which was unusual.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, was battling a whirlwind of emotions. He knew you and Jisung were close friends - you’d mentioned it so many times. But seeing the way your head rested against his shoulder and Jisung had kissed your temple - it just looked way too intimate. Too cosy.

He hated feeling this way, especially when you weren’t his to begin with. Still, the disappointment twisted in his chest and he didn't know what to do about it. So he focused on his work.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting back to you.

---

You let it go on till about noon. But it was killing you - you weren't used to this kind of behavior from Hyunjin and it was starting to stress you out. So summoning your courage, you walked over to Hyunjin and said, “Hey,”

He glanced up, his expression neutral as he said, “Hey.”

“You okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light. “You're so...quiet.”

“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Hyunjin said, giving you a small smile.

“You sure?” you pressed, feeling a strange pang of hurt.

He nodded, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. He was being so distant, and it left a strange, hollow ache in your chest. Finally, you gave him a small nod and walked back to your seat, feeling totally crushed by his uncharacteristic coolness.

Hyunjin’s silence stretched into the next day. And the day after that. In fact he hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to you in the past two days. And it hurt so much, considering the fact that you don't even know why he was doing this all of a sudden.

You tried to brush it off at first. Maybe he was just busy, or stressed. But the space he was putting between you felt deliberate, like he was doing this on purpose.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was crumbling inside. He adored you. And that too for long enough that the thought of losing you was nearly unbearable.

You and Jisung were so close. And you looked so comfortable. He couldn't take it. He wasn't going to let his heart shatter like that.

So, he’d made a decision: if he couldn’t have you, he’d rather step back than risk the heartbreak of watching you fall for someone else. Even if it meant burying his feelings.

---

The next morning, you were back in the cold room. You’d been trying to salvage your protein extraction for hours, but nothing was going right. Your hands were trembling as you loaded yet another sample, and your vision blurred with tears of frustration.

“This is so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice cracking. “Why can’t anything just go right for once?”

You sniffled, wiping your cheek with your sleeve, as you continued your monologue.

“I just want my Jinnie back. Why does he hate me now? What did I do wrong?” your voice wavered as you spoke through your tears.

What you didn't see was that the cold room door had opened quietly, and Hyunjin had stepped inside. He froze at the sound of your voice, his chest tightening at the sadness in your words.

Your Jinnie?

Your name slipped from his lips, soft and hesitant, “Y/N?”

You stiffened, your body freezing and your heart racing as you heard his voice.

“What?” you croaked, refusing to turn around, too mortified to meet his eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Hyunjin asked, taking a step closer.

You shook your head, refusing to face him.

“Why do you care?” You asked, and it broke his heart to see you wipe your tears.

“Please don't say that, of course I care-”

“It’s nothing. Just this stupid experiment. And... everything else.”

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice firmer now. “Please. Talk to me.”

You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.

“I can’t do this anymore, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. You won't even talk to me, and it’s killing me. I just... I just want my Hyunjinnie back. Just stop hurting me like this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You felt the tears spill over again, your shoulders trembling as you waited for him to say something. Anything.

And then you felt it.

Warmth. His strong arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

You gasped softly, frozen for a moment before leaning into him, your tears falling freely now.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face.

“Why are you mad at me?” you asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he said quickly, his hold on you tightening. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of losing you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought... I thought you and Jisung -”

“Jisung?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. “You know he’s my best friend, Hyunjin. He's like a brother to me.”

“I thought I was protecting myself,” he admitted, his lips close to your ear. “I thought I’d lose you to Jisung, and I couldn’t handle it. But I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process.”

“I can't believe you never saw me thirsting over you, Hyunjin” you said, your voice incredulous. “What are you even saying?!”

Hyunjin let out a shaky laugh, burying his face into your neck. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“You are,” you sniffled, though your tone was softer now.

He pulled back just enough to turn you around, his hands gently cupping your cheeks.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for so long. And I was so scared- ” he stopped short as he saw the look on your face.

“You... you love me?”

“I adore you,” he said, giving you a shy smile.

You let out a breathless laugh, the weight on your chest lifting for the first time in days.

“I love you too, Hyunjin. So damn much.”

His smile widened, and before you could say another word, he asked, “Can I... can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, and when his lips met yours, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you so softly (even though you just wanted to eat him up.)

You both stepped out of the cold room together, the door clicking shut behind you. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen from the kiss, and as you glanced at Hyunjin, you saw he was in no better shape.

You didn't get to take another step forward as the door to your lab opened and Jisung's head popped in.

His eyes flicked between you and Hyunjin and you could hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to piece together what he was seeing. And then he smirked.

You glared at him, because you know that look on his face, and Hyunjin just stood there, his arms crossed and a smile that said “I got what I wanted".

“Congratulations,” Jisung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so happy for you both. But oh my god, you two idiots…”

The grin on his face was priceless. He was enjoying this way too much.

“I swear, if you don’t shut up -” You swatted him on the arm.

Jisung winced dramatically but couldn’t hide his laughter.

“What? You guys make an adorable couple... but honestly, you both are just so dumb.”

Well, you couldn't agree more.

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 3 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Nesta is even more delusional than Y/n. Azriel finally knows his woman is attracted to him.

Warnings: smutty fantasies, delusional bestie Nesta, Azriel right after a shower, Azriel in ONLY a towel, Azriel's tattoos, delusional Azriel.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

Azriel had no idea what he was thinking when he let Y/n in his apartment. The same place he’d overanalysed to see where all he could fuck her. 

That’s right. 

He wasn’t thinking at all. 

Because he opened the door, saw her, and voila~ she was inside. 

She moved towards the kitchen and began hunting for plates. Azriel simply watched her as she made herself at home and owned the kitchen. 

Yes.

She did. 

Y/n owned the kitchen, the apartment, and she owned him. 

Azriel appreciated the domesticity for a moment before walking towards her to help. He picked out a bottle of wine and the glasses. 

When they finally sat down, a silence washed over. Azriel was getting the feeling that this was not a comfortable silence. “What happened?” 

“I should’ve at least texted you.” So that’s why she was gloomy. 

“Your classes begin tomorrow. You need to study.” He remembered that Y/n took academics seriously. 

“But I kept on remembering you and I promised myself I’d text or call after finishing one topic and then I read more papers and got carried away and now, it’s been three days.” She slowly quietened and started playing with her fork. 

“We’re going to dine and chat.” He deftly served the lasagna for both of them. “There’s nothing wrong here. Nothing weird or awkward. Nothing to worry about.” 

Azriel watched her nod at him hesitantly. She was still worried. 

“How can I convince you that everything is all right between us?” He asked, folding his arms and letting them rest on the table as he leaned forward to look at her closely. 

This woman, this wonderful woman, fretting because she didn’t contact him. She didn’t need to know that he already knew what was going on. That she was so immersed in studying that she did not have any proper meals. 

He also knew that she had rushed off to the supermarket earlier this evening and spent a lot of time in the kitchen. 

What he didn’t know was that all of it was for him. 

That information warmed him in an unexpected manner. 

“Hey.” He rose and reached her. Azriel turned her chair and kneeled before her. “It’s all right.” 

“It’s just, you’re so good to me and. . . I didn’t even call or text and now, you’re still. . . you’re still so good to me.”

Good? 

That wouldn’t do.

He was supposed to be the best for her. 

Good sounded like mediocrity in his own head but the word sounded like an achievement when she said it. 

Was this what she thought about him?

“It’s all right. We’re fine. You’re here. I’m here. We’re okay.” He patted her head gently. 

Azriel stood up, pulled another chair next to her, and readied a bite for her but Y/n shook her head. “I made it for you. You should eat first.”

Something in his head had just short circuited. 

He had just been hit with the realisation that she had cooked for him but to hear her say it was euphoric. 

“You’ll eat after I take a bite?” She nodded instantly so he took a bite. 

It wasn’t made by a chef who considered cooking to be an art for the world to enjoy. 

It was made by someone who wanted to cook only for him and not for the world. 

A taste prepared to be enjoyed within the privacy and security of the people that would comprise his home. 

“Thank you.” His voice was raw and tinged with much more emotion than he’d expected. 

This moment with her, her cooking, and him was simply so overwhelming. 

“You’ve done so well.” Y/n smiled brightly and a part of Azriel felt like he had truly achieved something in life. To make this woman happy and safe. 

This woman, warm as a blanket in early winter mornings, beautiful in the face of her entire life—he wanted his opportunity to cherish her. And he’d take it. He could be patient. 

Azriel did not ever remember doing anything good enough to deserve this woman’s presence in his life. But she was here and he’d keep her by his side. 

They dined sitting next to each other. And Azriel was acutely aware of everything she did. Every time those breasts heaved as she breathed. Those lips with a bit of cheese at the corner. 

He turned to his own plate, nearly scarfing down the meal lest he have another inappropriate thought. But the sight of his own fork reminded him of her mouth around her own fork. 

Y/n would look lovely on her knees and even lovelier with his cock inside that mouth. He’d wrap her perfect hair around his fist and thrust inside her mouth. And then he’d-

“Azriel.” She was sitting right next to him, and the height difference was enough for him to think about leaning in. 

That stupid bit of cheese was still by the corner of her lip and Azriel could nearly see how she’d look after he’d come in her mouth. 

“Are you all right?”

No, he wasn’t. 

He wanted that mouth. 

On his lips, on his chest, on his cock. 

“Yes.” A fucking lie. He was not okay knowing that the woman he was fantasising about was right next to him, eating a meal, thinking that this was just a neighbourly interaction. 

Azriel definitely didn’t have any neighbourly intentions towards Y/n unless you could count wanting to fuck her against her front door as one of those. 

Conversation continued as she told him about her classes, her education so far, and more things he’d already read in her report but with an addition of her own feelings towards them. 

She was not eager to indulge in her private life but she was very proud to talk about Nesta, her best friend since childhood. He heard a few funny moments from her past and bits and pieces about her family. 

At some point, he’d begun speaking. It was not just about being comfortable with her but also about wanting to tell her, and knowing that she would now know something about him. So he told her about his friends, his education, and a few things about his everyday life. 

When it was nearly eleven, he reminded her that she had classes from tomorrow. Azriel could swear he saw disappointment in her eyes as Y/n made a move to leave. 

He really wanted to kiss her. Tell her that she’d cooked really well. That he was thankful for her efforts. 

And instead of escorting her to the door, he wanted to take her to the bedroom where he’d undress her and kiss every inch of her. 

He couldn’t kiss her but there was something else he could do. 

And that’s how Azriel found himself watching baking videos as he retired to bed instead of taking a while to masturbate to his fantasies of Y/n.

****

Y/n was in a good mood after last night’s dinner but she felt guilty for not contacting Azriel. Her neighbour was so nice, so kind. He’d helped her far more than neighbours ever did and she’d just . . . forgotten him while she studied. 

She was well-prepared for her classes, met a few new people, toured the campus library, and returned to her apartment. 

She immediately FaceTimed Nesta. 

“Wait, let me just set this.” Nesta moved to the kitchen in her own shared apartment and placed the phone so that she could cook while they talked. Y/n had already done the same. “Now, before you spill, I have some news. Remember your ex?”

“Very difficult to forget his impact in my life.”

“Lots of trauma and insecurity, I know.” Nesta knew how condescending that creature had been to Y/n, always belittling her whenever she did something or was about to do something herself. And then he’d be a little hypocrite by saying that he’d support her choices while also routinely telling her to stop using her brain. “He got roped into a case of tax fraud and he got fired but he’s still a party to the case.”

Y/n remained silent but her wide eyes were enough for Nesta to understand that she’d been shocked. Nesta waited in front of the screen patiently. “Well. . . fuck him.”

“That’s my girl!” Nesta cheered. “Also, there’s a rumour floating among the alumni that he made some powerful enemies so he’s laying low or he’s underground or on the run or whatever terminology they use for people like that but since this guy is the worthless lowlife that hurt you, I’d prefer to say he’s in the sewer.”

“Hopefully, he’ll drown in the sewage.”

“Moving on, quite literally, to better things in life. Exhibit A: your hot neighbour. Have you fucked?”

“No. And I don’t think we will.” She had a good talk with him last night, absorbing his every word like a sponge but she couldn’t help but feel that he was not attracted to her in the way she was towards him. 

“Why not? He’s hot. You’re hot. It only makes sense that you two fuck.” 

Y/n looked at the screen, unimpressed. “I think he sees me as a sister.”

“Then go! Do incest! What are you waiting for?” Nesta waved her hands.

“We’re not related.” 

“Then do the step-sibling incest thing. We’ve already watched My Fault. It’s bound to be hot.” Nesta deadpanned. 

My Fault was a hot, forbidden romance. Now, that was another fantasy. 

“Wait. Why do you think he sees you as a sister?” Nesta came to the screen and started eating an apple. 

“Because he patted my head last night.” Y/n sighed. “It felt very sibling-like.” She began peeling the onions. 

“What happened last night?” Nesta was now curious. 

“I forgot to contact him for three days so I made lasagna as an apology.”

“Wait a fucking second.” Here we go. “You have that hot furnace as your neighbour and you forgot him?” Nesta sounded very much offended on Azriel’s behalf. “Are you drugged or something?” She opened a container and closed it. She kept it back and took out another container.

“We enjoyed dinner and dessert and conversations but I almost cried before we started.”

“Darling, men have to be dealt with very tactfully.” Nesta placed a bowl in front of her phone and began peeling potatoes. “If they see your emotional baggage, it’ll only be a big turn-off even when you only want a fling. For example, in my gym, there’s a trainor-”

“You joined a gym?” Y/n interrupted. “Why am I hearing about this now?”

“I have too much free time now that you’re not here so I joined a gym.” Nesta glared at Y/n and the latter kept quiet. “There’s a hot trainor and I know he wants to fuck me. But what am I doing? I’m doing what every reasonable, prudent woman would do. I’m ignoring him.”

“That’s probably not how you get laid.”

“I’m not trying to get laid. I’m trying to get railed. Understand the difference.” Nesta pointed her knife at the screen. 

“Laid is a romantic thing. Laid is when you lose your virginity. Laid is for sweet love making.” Nesta sounded a little disgusted while explaining ‘laid’ before her tone changed and she began her passionate explanation about what ‘railed’ meant. 

“Railed is for fucking against any surface because you can’t wait. It’s for throwing away your clothes and letting all the lust take over. Touching is for laid, groping is for railed. Do you understand?” Nesta waved her knife and Y/m dutifully nodded. 

“Maintain enough distance to let the sexual tension brew like a stew. But not too much distance to make him uninterested. And then soon, Cassian will fuck me like his life depends on it.” Nesta sounded gleeful as she revealed her plan. 

Y/n knew that Nesta was only going to fuck this trainor because she never did serious relationships. Y/n had been in one serious relationship which blew up on her face. And since then, it was unbearable to think of going for romance. “Cassian is your trainor’s name?”

“Nice name to moan, don’t you think?”

“Does he know you think that?” She began cutting the onions. Y/n thought that name sounded familiar. 

“Absolutely not. It’s only been two days. I’ll take some time. He’s already looking when I’m stretching and so now, I’ll do some specific warm ups that’ll make him realise that I’m a very, very flexible woman.”

“You bitch.” Y/n laughed as she stirred the vegetables. 

“I’m going to make him beg.” Nesta grinned evilly. “Enough about him. How do we get you to commit incest?”

“Did I tell you he’s older?”

“How old?”

“He’ll turn twenty nine in a few days.”

“You just turned twenty four. Oh, he’ll love it when you call him daddy.” Nesta smirked.

“I think I want to call him sir.” Y/n laughed. 

“Wait. That’s a good idea.”

“What?”

“Grocery shopping. All right? Show some cleavage. Stand next to him. Look up at him with the most innocent look. Okay? So innocent and holy that he should think you’re on the list of innocent people right after Jesus. And then say, ‘yes, sir’. Imagine the sex. He won’t even wait to take you to the bedroom.”

“I’m not really sure.” Y/n was hesitant. What if she ruined whatever friendship she had with him? 

The doorbell rang once. “Wait a sec. Nes, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Y/n washed her hands quickly, wiped them on a towel, and went to answer the door. 

Azriel stood there, looking mindnumbingly sexy in a shirt with the first couple of buttons not. . . his chest. . .  tattoos and. .  . Y/n took a step back and nearly fell. 

Azriel’s arm snaked around her waist as he easily caught her and helped her stand up. 

“I received your parcel by mistake.” He whispered near her ear. 

“Thank you.” She probably squeaked. His hand was still on her waist and her eyes were shut tightly. 

“Y/n?” His voice was too deep, too dark, too bedroom-like. “Why are you hot?” 

“What?” Her voice was a mere whisper. 

“Open your eyes, Y/n.” Why was this man saying her name so much? “You feel feverish.” At some point, the back of his hand was pressed against her forehead. 

“I’m not. I’m fine.” She hurriedly explained. “Thank you for the parcel.” 

Azriel smiled beautifully at her. “I’ll see you around.” 

His hands left her waist and he reached his own door. Y/n watched as he entered his apartment, waved at her before closing the door. 

She closed her own door and ran to the kitchen to tell Nesta all about it.

**** 

When Y/n had been exploring during her first day of classes, Azriel easily infiltrated her house (he had a spare key, what do you think he bought the building for?) and set a few bugs to help him eavesdrop. 

Was it a coincidence that he made his appearance while Y/n was on a video call with her best friend, discussing and debating about fucking him?  

Absolutely not. 

He knew that Y/n didn’t like wearing her airpods unless it was necessary so her video calls were always  on speaker phone. He’d heard every bit of what both women said. 

The only thing that was a coincidence was that he was just about to ring the doorbell when the delivery man had appeared. He signed her parcel, claiming to be her boyfriend (which he would be) and when the delivery boy had left, he finally proceeded. 

Now that he knew for a fact that she was sexually attracted to him, he had to only seduce her. To coax her desires before revealing that he was always ready to fuck her. 

As for how he’d marry her, that was a little further away but he was confident now. 

If she ever called him sir, he knew he’d crack and explode. Y/n wouldn’t even have to do much and he’d fuck her ever so thoroughly. 

So he waited. 

He got his work done. A few meetings. Calls. Learned how to bake. 

He did get his chance to talk to her or go grocery shopping with her but she did not call him sir. 

The electricity was beginning to crackle between them when he spotted her looking at his forearms often. He’d wear henleys, roll up his sleeves, and watch as she drooled over while pretending he didn’t realise. 

How adorable was she as she checked him out not so discreetly. 

And how adorable would she be, begging and crying for him to stop. 

****

Azriel had finally perfected baking a cheesecake and it was kept for cooling. A few more hours and he could bring it over to Y/n. 

The doorbell rang and Azriel cursed. If there was someone other than Y/n on the other side, he’d throw them down the stairs. 

This was a bit inconvenient since he’d just finished showering. He draped a towel around his hips and took another one to begin with his hair as he headed for the door.

It seemed that there would be no deaths since Y/n was waiting for him. But the moment she saw him, her eyes widened and she looked like she’d seen a ghost. 

Why?

She looked damn good in that grey sweater and black jeans. Winter fashion suited Y/n. Sweaters were gentle on her curves, her legs were. . . 

Yes. 

Those were the legs he wanted around his waist. Minus the jeans, of course. 

She looked so fucking good but there was only one problem when she went out with him.

He couldn’t show her off as his wife.

As stated in the previous chapter, a lot of things would be sorted if he married Y/n. 

Azriel was ready to brood now that the reality of not being married to her slapped him. 

But then why was she so shocked when she was the one who looked like she was out to seduce him by existing? 

Oh.

He was in a towel.

And with his chest on display. 

He remembered that tattoos were an attraction for women and he had loads of them. On his fingers, hands, arms and chest. 

Was she attracted?

“Y/n?” He let the towel for his hair hang around his neck. 

“Huh?” She then looked at his face because she’d been staring at his chest for so long. 

How cute. 

She was attracted.

Did she know that all this was hers? 

This chest. These hands. These legs. And this cock. 

Everything was hers. 

Honestly speaking, he’d fuck her if she asked. 

“Come in.” He opened the door wider.

“You have tattoos.” She still seemed to be in a daze. 

He really had to put in effort to not smirk at her flustered state. 

Would she like the tattoos under the towel?

“Yes, I have tattoos. Come inside, Y/n.” He gently ushered her in before realising that he just brought in his woman inside the apartment. His woman who was definitely attracted to him and even more so, more that she’d seen him half naked. 

“Yeah. Um. . I was going to buy vegetables. Just wanted to see if you’d like to come with me or if you wanted me to get something.” She was looking at the wall now. 

What was this woman even thinking? 

That he’d ever refuse her? 

Hah! What nonsense.

Why was he even here in this country, in this apartment, if not for her?

Azriel walked over, tilted her chin with a hand, and met her gaze looking as oblivious as he could. “Is there a reason why you’re not looking at me?” 

Fuck it. He wanted her to look at her. What did he even look this good for if she was not looking at him?

“I thought. . Maybe you’d be uncomfortable if I looked at you. Some people don’t. . they don’t like that and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of me.” 

“You have my permission to look.” To touch. To kiss. To suck. To fuck. She had all permissions since day one. 

“Vegetables?” She averted her gaze. 

Azriel restrained the urge to smirk. 

“Give me ten minutes.” He returned to his room, dried himself, dressed up, and returned to Y/n.

“Ready?” He asked as he wrote his watch. 

“You haven’t dried your hair.” 

“I used the towel.”

“It’s evening, Az. You’ll catch a cold. Where’s your hair dryer?” There it was. There was the confident Y/n.

“Don’t have one.” He lied so easily. He wanted to see what she’d do. 

She marched over to the door and opened it. “Well. Come on. Lock up. You’re using my hair dryer. Only then will you come with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. Azriel loved it when she bossed him around. This side of her rarely revealed itself. 

Y/n froze and then turned away to unlock her door. And Azriel did as he’d been told.

****

Has anyone seen Azriel half naked? Ever? 

In a towel? Bare chested? 

Droplets on that golden skin? 

Tattoos? Fucking tattoos? 

Wet hair? 

The wet dream? 

How in fuck had she not fainted? 

And why did she think she was being sensible by inviting him to her apartment? 

To dry his hair?

Well, he did need his hair to be dried to avoid a cold. 

She could keep telling herself that. 

And what the fuck was that chin raising movement he did? 

In that instant, she could think of nothing but his she wanted to be laid down on the wooden coffee table and fucked like they were all that mattered. 

A towel. 

A towel. 

A towel with a tattoo that it partially concealed. 

He had a tattoo there. 

She wanted to see that tattoo. 

And his cock. 

She wanted to kneel before him.

Did anybody in the entire godsfucking universe bothered to take pity on her sanity and tell her that this man was not just sexy but fictional sexy? 

No. 

Her sanity had evaporated at some point.

Because her knees were already weakening as soon as she laid eyes on him. 

And he’d raised her chin looking like a sex god from a dark romance novel. 

Y/n needed to kneel and bend and spread for him all at once. 

Y/n: Save me. 

Nesta: What happened?

Y/n: I saw him shirtless. In a towel. Only a towel. My sanity is deceased. And I’m so fucking horny. 

Nesta: Send pics ;)

Y/n: He has tattoos all over. I saw one of them which was partially covered by that  towel. It’s down there.  

Nesta: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Y/n: He has a back.

Nesta: Everyone has a back.

Y/n: Wide shouldered, golden, tattooed back, with droplets. 

Nesta: Oh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhooohhoooooooo. You lucky bitch, you’re going to get railed. Scratch that back. Mark him well.

Y/n pocketed her phone before she got too delusional and brought the hairdryer. Azriel was sitting on her bed as instructed. She connected the appliance to the plug and gave it to him. 

He looked at her coyly with a stupid smirk before she sighed. “Fine.” 

Y/n switched on the dryer and dried his hair. She combed through with her fingers and Azriel looked more than happy to simply sit there. 

“You should do this if you’re going to wash your hair after lunchtime.” She wanted to sound stern but Y/n was busy thinking about grabbing his hair in other situations. 

“Uh huh.” He grinned at her like a cat. Y/n set the dryer down and fluffed down his hair herself. 

“All done.” 

He stood up and checked himself in the mirror. “Thank you, sweetheart. Now shall we get some vegetables?”

Y/n would have a heart attack at any time soon. She quickly texted Nesta, followed after him, locked the door and they left for shopping. 

Instead of heading towards the sidewalk, Azriel headed towards the line of cars parked on the side of the road. 

“Where are you going?” Y/n followed. She did not like how this man with his height and long legs just took two steps while she had to take four. She’d never really noticed before since he adjusted his pace to walk by her side. 

“My car is here. I had it sent over.” He then looked at her just before he opened the door to the driver’s seat. “Do you drive?”

“Yes?” 

“Do you want to drive?”

“It’s your car. I’m sure you don’t want a scratch.”

“I trust you.” He walked over and handed the keys to her. “You have a valid licence, right?”

“Azriel, you have to ask about the licence before you give someone your car keys.”

“But you said you drive.” This man had the audacity to look like a scolded child when, not more than twenty minutes ago, he looked like he could throw her around and fuck her all day, every day. 

At this point, Y/n needed an exorcism to help with her uncontrollable number of fantasies. 

The car was also huge enough to be fucked against. And she could bend over against the bonnet while he took her from behind but it was too cold at night for pants to be removed. 

“Y/n?” Azriel appeared in front of her like his existence hadn’t resulted in an unexpected number of filthy delusions that made her panic in his presence. “Ready to leave?”

“All right.”

And they entered the car. When they were settled and she started, Azriel began. “And if you want to go somewhere far just for the quiet, we can go now that we have a car.” 

“You love this car, don’t you?”

And Azriel went on a rant about how he’d purchased this one because of all that he fell in love with in this particular model. By the time he finished, they were already parked near the supermarket. 

Y/n removed her seatbelt and tapped his arm. “We’ve reached.” She smiled at him.

It was nice and fluffy to simply go on a drive and listen to him. 

****

It was so nice to just sit in the car. Azriel loved driving but he recently discovered he also loved sitting. And now that he was following Y/n with the shopping trolley, he felt even better. 

And all Azriel wanted to do was to embrace her from behind, kiss her cheek, and laugh with her at something stupid. 

It was simple and pleasant. To follow her with a trolley, to watch her frown at two containers of mayonnaise, to listen to her complain about how they should have separate section for panty liners and pads instead of putting them with baby diapers. 

She was a bossy woman, a side that revealed itself when they went grocery shopping. 

Gods, he wanted her to order him. To ride him and take charge. 

His grip on the trolley tightened. 

And just when he was beginning to control his thoughts, he saw the fire exit. The washrooms were built there. Nobody would see but he could simply hoist her away and fuck her there. 

The thrill of being in a public place did something else to him. 

He looked at Y/n and saw her waving at him with a container of something in her hand. He walked over to her and gave his suggestion on the chocolate spread. 

The only thing he hated in this routine of grocery shopping was when it ended and they went their separate ways. She’d go to her apartment and he’d go to his. And he hated that. He hated returning to a place where she wasn’t.

And for the first time, Azriel was not alone. He was lonely in the silence. 

****

Y/n knew she’d begun caring for her neighbour despite her attraction to him. That she’d started getting used to his presence in her life. 

It was only supposed to be sexual attraction but as hot as he was, he was also good to her. He cared for her and his every action proved it. 

She liked him.

She liked him. 

Oh god. 

She actually liked Azriel. 

Which sane woman wouldn’t? 

She didn’t care about other women. Other women could go drown in the sewer. 

What about her? 

This man was only supposed to be a one-time encounter from that club they went to for Feyre’s birthday party. 

And then he was at the airport. 

In the flight. In the same building. 

And now he was a part of her life.

And during that dinner when she'd brought him lasagna, when he asked her that question so seriously. “How can I convince you that everything is all right between us?”

Y/n had melted.

She looked at the apartment. This was just for a semester but Y/n loved this space solely because Azriel was next door. 

And at some point, she’d begun wishing he was here. 

She called Nesta and when her friend picked up the phone, she began crying. “I like him.” 

****

Taglist:

@fantanbietsson @angstylittleb1tch @fhgsvbnh @olive-main @cherryjain17 @halo-mystic @starofanotherworld @latinxbipride @viatorem-maris @acotarbestie @sevikas-whore @anthonys-viscountess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @cat-or-kitten

[deliciousangelfestival]

He's A Killer

Summary: She’s known among her family and friends for being single, and everyone worries about her. Determined to prove them wrong, she finally makes her first move, only to discover that the person she likes is dangerous.

The second part : He's The Sweetest

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The emergency room of St. Grace Medical Center buzzes with activity. Doctors and nurses move swiftly, handling patients with precision. Voices blur together in the chaos, and the sharp scent of antiseptic fills the air.

You're inside the medical storage room, scanning shelves for the supplies the doctor requested: syringes, tubes, and medication vials. Besides, you is Clara, your co-worker and friend, busy sorting through trays.

"I told you I had that family dinner, right?" you say, picking up a pack of syringes.

"Yeah, how was it?" Clara asks, not looking up from the tray she's organizing.

“Dreadful. Dreadful. Dreadful,” you reply, shaking your head in exasperation.

Clara glances at you, a smirk forming. "Wow, three times? That bad, huh?"

The memory flashes through your mind: Sunday, family dinner. You sit across from your aunts, who seem more interested in your love life than the meal.

"Your mom’s worried about you, you know," one of your aunts says between bites. "She didn't tell you because she's afraid of hurting your feelings," another aunt adds. "You’re already over 30; the clock is ticking." "My friend’s son works at the oil company. I could get his contact if you want. He’s a good catch."

Back in the storage room, Clara's voice breaks through your thoughts. "Well, you probably won’t like this, but your aunt’s kinda right. I mean, bestie, I’m only saying this because I care about you."

You hum, trying to keep your focus on entering patient data into the system. Clara means well, but the topic is starting to get old.

“Honey, you’re a great friend and an amazing co-worker. Everyone here relies on you because you’re so reliable. You know why?” Clara’s voice softens as she leans in. “Because you’re single. You don’t have someone waiting for you, or someone to hang out with on Saturdays and Sundays.”

You freeze for a moment, glancing up at her with raised eyebrows.

“Please, go out and talk to someone," she continues. "You've been single for way too long. You deserve some love, girl. It’s not like you need to get married right away.”

Clara shudders, as if the thought gives her chills. “No, not at all! Just, you know, make friends first?” She winks playfully before gathering a tray of supplies and heading out to assist the doctor.

Alone in the storage room, you sigh, leaning against the counter for a moment. Clara means well, but every time someone offers to introduce you to someone, it irks you. You know you’ve been single for a long time—your whole life, really—but it’s not that you don’t want a relationship.

It’s complicated.

You've seen too many relationships fall apart. Your parents, your aunts, your cousins—all their stories weigh on you. The cheating, the abuse, the constant reminders from your cousins: “Don’t get married.” It’s no wonder you’re hesitant.

But what stings the most is finding out your father, who you always thought was a devoted husband, had cheated on your mom. That betrayal shaped your fears. You don’t want to end up like her—trapped in a painful, one-sided marriage.

Part of you is scared of commitment, scared of getting hurt. But another part of you craves it—a real connection. The irony of it all is that the same aunts pushing you to settle down are stuck in abusive marriages themselves. It’s almost comedic, in a sad, twisted way.

You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside as you gather the last of the supplies.

🐼🐼🐼🐼🐼

Working at ER felt like living in a whirlwind. You rarely went home, often staying for almost 24 hours at a time. The chaos of patients coming in with life-threatening injuries, doctors shouting orders, and the constant rush to save lives left you drained but fulfilled. When you finally had a day off, there was only one thing you looked forward to—visiting the zoo to see your favorite animal: the panda. 🐼

You’ve always had a soft spot for pandas. Something about their calm, slow movements and gentle nature soothed you. The baby panda, in particular, had become your little escape. Watching it tumble around, clumsily explore, or nibble on bamboo always brought you a sense of peace. You had its appearances memorized on your schedule since it wasn’t allowed out every day.

Today was one of those rare days off, and you made your way to the zoo, excited to see the baby panda. But when you arrived, the mood shifted. A zoo employee stood in front of the panda enclosure, addressing the crowd of disappointed families.

“Sorry folks, the panda viewing has been rescheduled. We have made an announcement on our social media last week—we worked on it all night, without sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. Without sleep? Try handling an ER at peak hours. Annoyed but resigned, you sighed and checked the next available viewing time. As the crowd started dispersing, one person caught your attention.

A tall man stood at the panda window, his broad shoulders slumped in disappointment. He sighed deeply before turning around. That’s when your eyes met. It wasn’t intentional, but the sudden connection caught you off guard. Quickly, you bowed your head and hurried away, feeling your cheeks warm from the brief moment.

The next day, you returned to the zoo, and this time, the baby panda was out. You joined the crowd, eager to see your favorite animal. The baby panda was as adorable as ever, tumbling clumsily around its habitat. You found yourself smiling, the sight of it immediately calming your busy mind. But as you glanced around, you saw him again—the tall man from yesterday. He was also watching the panda, just as captivated as the rest of the crowd.

The panda display ended too soon, and just as you were about to leave, the sky opened up and rain started pouring. The panda enclosure was far from the main entrance, and there was no shelter nearby. Luckily, you always carried an umbrella. As you received a message from the hospital calling you in for an emergency, you saw other visitors quickly opening their umbrellas and leaving one by one.

Soon, it was just you and the tall man left in the rain.

You noticed him glancing at his watch, pacing back and forth like he was debating whether to make a run for it. His indecision made you smile. He clearly wasn’t prepared for the weather. Without thinking much of it, you walked up to him, holding out your umbrella.

“Ehm,” you said, voice slightly raised over the sound of the rain. “Want to walk to the gate together?”

His eyes flicked to the umbrella in your hand before he gave you a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, stepping under it with you.

The walk was quiet, the sound of the rain drumming on the umbrella louder than any conversation you might have had. It should have felt awkward—after all, you were strangers—but the rain filled the silence. He stayed close to your side, even leaning a little toward you to make sure you weren’t getting wet. You noticed his left side was already damp, but he didn’t seem to care. Is he a gentleman? you wondered as you both continued walking.

When you finally reached the entrance, you closed your umbrella. The man pointed toward the parking lot. “My car’s pretty far,” he said, glancing toward the rain-soaked lot.

“I’ve got to go too,” you replied, showing him your phone. “I booked a car from the app. It should be here soon.”

He nodded, still standing close. You hesitated for a moment, then held out the umbrella to him. “Here. Take this. It’s better than running through the rain.”

He blinked in surprise, looking down at the umbrella. “How do I return this to you?”

You smiled, shrugging lightly. “It’s alright. I have more. But… if you really want to return it, you can find me at the hospital E.R. St. Grace Medical Center.”

His lips curled into a small smile, a flash of warmth in his eyes. “Alright then, the hospital. I’ll remember that.”

Before he could say anything more, your car pulled up. You gave him one last smile, ducking into the back seat, and as you drove off, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d see him again.

🐼🐼🐼🐼

The night shift at St. Grace Medical Center had just begun, but unlike most nights, the ER was unusually quiet. A handful of patients sat in the waiting area, the usual chaos replaced by a lull. The soft beeping of monitors filled the air, interrupted occasionally by the rustle of paperwork or a distant cough.

Clara, your ever-observant co-worker, stood beside you, arms crossed, her brow raised in curiosity. "You look different tonight. What’s going on?" She tilted her head, smirking slightly.

You paused, your lips twitching into a small smile. "Well… I met this guy when I went to see my favorite panda."

Clara’s smirk grew wide. “Ah, the fluffy black and white mammals. So, what makes this guy more special than your favorite animal?”

You were about to answer when a loud commotion broke out near the entrance. A drunk patient stumbled through the doors, yelling incoherently, bumping into chairs, and causing a scene.

“Perfect timing,” you muttered under your breath.

Clara groaned. "Here we go."

You both rushed over to try and calm him down. He was clearly in no state to be reasoned with, slurring his words and swaying dangerously as he tried to grab hold of another patient’s wheelchair.

“Sir, you need to sit down,” you said, holding up your hands in a calming gesture.

The man blinked at you, confused, then suddenly lunged forward, trying to grab your arm. Panic surged through you, but before he could make contact, a firm hand caught the drunk man's wrist.

"That's enough," a deep voice said from behind you.

You turned around, startled to see him—the man from the zoo. The one who borrowed your umbrella. He stood tall, his grip firm but not aggressive as he guided the drunk man back into a chair. The drunk patient, surprised by the sudden interference, mumbled something incoherent but didn’t resist.

Relief washed over you, and you let out a shaky breath. “Thanks. That could’ve gotten ugly.”

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s quiet here,” he said casually.

You quickly shook your head, eyes widening. “Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it.”

He chuckled at your reaction, then glanced down at your name tag. “Y/N, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”

You blinked, feeling the warmth of his smile seep into you. "Nice to meet you too… Bucky."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar item—your umbrella. “Sorry I’m late returning this. Thanks again for letting me borrow it.”

You grinned, feeling a bit of your usual humor return. “Hey, as panda lovers, we have to help each other out, right?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to dig a hole and hide in it. Did I really just say that?

To your surprise, Bucky laughed—a genuine, warm sound. “You’re right. We do.” Then, as if to return the favor for your kindness, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “Actually, I have something for you.”

You furrowed your brows, confused, until you unfolded the paper. Your eyes widened in disbelief—it was a VIP ticket for a face-to-face panda experience, something you had only dreamed about.

“What? How did you get this?” you asked, astonished.

Bucky smiled, a little mischievously. “I’ve got some connections.”

Before you could fully process what had just happened, Bucky waved and left the hospital. As soon as he was out of sight, Clara whistled softly behind you.

“Well, well, well,” she teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “Is someone making panda dates now?”

You rolled your eyes, though a blush crept up your cheeks. "It’s not like that, Clara."

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sure it’s all innocent.”

The next day, you found yourself back at the zoo, clutching your VIP ticket nervously. And there he was again—Bucky, standing near the entrance, waiting for you.

“Hey,” he greeted you with that same easy smile.

“Hey,” you replied, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest. The two of you walked together into the building, and soon, the moment you'd been waiting for arrived: you were face to face with the baby panda.

Both of you were silent as the tiny creature waddled toward you. The panda was as adorable as you had imagined, its soft fur and curious little eyes making your heart melt. Bucky stood next to you, just as captivated. When the panda let out a small squeak, you both exchanged a glance, wide-eyed, before grinning like kids.

As you held the baby panda for a brief moment, you felt all the exhaustion from your long shifts melt away. It was like a small pocket of happiness you hadn’t realized you needed. You could hear Bucky chuckling softly beside you, clearly sharing the same sentiment.

“Why pandas?” he asked softly after a while, turning to look at you.

You shrugged, smiling. “They’re just… calming. Whenever I’m tired from the hospital or life, looking at them helps. It’s like all the stress just melts away.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully, his gaze still on the baby panda. “I get it. My job is… well, it’s tiring. Dangerous too. But seeing animals like this, being cuddled, living peacefully—it helps. Makes me feel like there’s still good out there.”

You glanced at him curiously, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “Sounds like a tough job,” you said carefully.

Bucky smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah… it can be.”

It's his turn to hold and cuddle the baby panda, and the sight is nothing short of heartwarming. The little creature, with its round face and soft, fuzzy coat, snuggles into his arms as he cradles it gently. Bucky’s eyes light up with a mix of joy and awe, his broad smile breaking through his usually composed demeanor. He chuckles softly, a sound that resonates with warmth, as the panda nuzzles against his chest, completely at ease.

There’s a brief pause, the kind that feels heavy with something unsaid, as he shifts his gaze from the panda to you. The moment stretches out, filled with unspoken tension.

Then, suddenly, he turns toward you, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his expression. “You know… if you’re not busy sometime, maybe we could grab a coffee? Or dinner, maybe?” His cheeks flush slightly, as if he’s unsure how his invitation will be received, but the sincerity in his eyes reveals his hopefulness.

Your heart skipped a beat. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of nervousness behind it, which made it all the more endearing.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “I’d like that.”

His face lit up, the awkward tension lifting. “Great,” he said, looking almost relieved. “I’ll, uh, message you then?”

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling the beginnings of a connection you hadn’t expected. “I’d like that a lot.”

🐼🐼🐼🐼

Your relationship with Bucky started innocently enough, bonding over your shared love for pandas and animals. What began as casual conversations about your common interests slowly grew deeper. The two of you spent more time together, texting throughout the day, meeting for coffee, or watching movies late into the night. It wasn’t long before you started spending nights at each other’s places. The closeness felt natural, and his easygoing demeanor made you feel safe.

Clara, of course, couldn’t resist teasing you about it. One evening during a shift, she shot you a knowing look. “You know,” she began with a smirk, “you should introduce him to your family. I bet his shadow alone could shut them up.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "One step at a time, Clara. I don't want him to run away after meeting my family."

Over time, your relationship with Bucky deepened, and intimacy followed. You spent nights at his apartment, and he did the same at yours. The affection between you two was comfortable and warm. Bucky worked as a contractor, which sometimes took him out of town for a while. That’s why, one day, he handed you the key to his apartment with a smile.

“Keep it,” he said. “Just in case you need to check on Alpine.”

Alpine was his cat, a fluffy white ball of fur who quickly won your heart. You adored her, and it was easy to see why Bucky did too.

One day, on your day off, you decided to spend the afternoon at Bucky’s place. It was quiet and cozy, perfect for unwinding after a long week. His salary as a contractor must be high enough that he can afford this house.

Alpine was curled up on your lap as you sat on the couch, absentmindedly stroking her soft fur. The gentle purrs coming from her were soothing.

Suddenly, Alpine’s ears perked up, and before you knew it, she jumped from your lap and padded over to the bookshelf. You watched curiously as she stretched her paws toward one of the shelves.

“What are you up to, little one?” you murmured, getting up to see what had caught her attention. As you reached out to move a book, you heard a soft click. Before you could react, the bookshelf started to shift, revealing a hidden door.

Your heart raced as you hesitated for a moment, but when Alpine darted through the opening, you knew you couldn’t just leave her. Steeling your nerves, you stepped inside.

The room you entered was nothing like the cozy, homey apartment you knew. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the scene before you. Guns lined the walls, various types of explosives were neatly arranged on shelves, and papers filled with detailed information were pinned to a whiteboard. It looked like something straight out of a spy movie—except it wasn’t a movie. It was real.

“When I finally make a move, turns out the man I like is a killer,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you picked up Alpine and quickly backed out of the room. You closed the secret door, your mind racing.

What do I do now?

You paced back and forth in the living room, your heart pounding in your chest. Your thoughts spiraled as you tried to process what you had just seen. Finally, in a panic, you grabbed your phone and dialed Clara.

After a couple of rings, her voice came through, light and cheery. “Yo, girls, what’s up?”

You swallowed hard, still clutching Alpine close to you. “Clara…”

“Yeah?” Her tone shifted slightly, sensing something was off.

You whispered into the phone, your voice shaky as you held Alpine close to your chest, “I think my boyfriend is a hitman."

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff

Extras:

[razrbladekiss]

MAPLE HAZEL | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: he’s grumpy, and you’ve got enough happiness for the pair of you. you visit joel’s little coffee shop every morning, and he can’t deny that he enjoys the monotony of life with you the other side of his counter.

PAIRING: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS: inspired by lorelai gilmore and luke danes, so with that info do what you will. this is full on golden retriever x black cat realness. fluffy. banter-y. dialogue-y. joel is grumpy but he’s sexy so we don’t mind. enjoy, my besties. not sure if i’ll do a part two, but i’ll let you know in due time, of course.🍁🫶🏻

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s like he’s moving from muscle memory. Putting down a cinnamon roll and maple hazel latte—with two extra shots of espresso—in front of the third purple stool at his counter, is almost ingrained into his brain. He wonders if one day you’ll ever take him by surprise and order pancakes, or a chai tea.

And you will. Just not today.

“Cinnamon roll, please!” You call from the door as you bumble over the threshold, fighting with the belt loop on your coat that’s gotten stuck on a brassy handle for the third time this morning.

“Already one step ahead of ‘ya.” Joel gestures to the breakfast spread at the wooden bar, and you smile.

Despite being a closed-off, stupid-person-hating, placid-at-times, grumpy old man, you can’t help admitting that you enjoy Joel’s company and general presence in your life.

His shop appeared on Birch Grove one sunny Saturday morning about three years ago, and you haven’t skipped a day since. Aside from Christmas Day, you have religiously sat at Joel’s counter and shared the trials and tribulations of life in Dallas as an overzealous twenty-something every single day.

He’s a great listener. Or, at least, you think that he is. He never interrupts you, or speaks over you. Joel always lends an ear to listen, even if he doesn’t always say all that much in response to whatever it is that you’re elucidating or complaining about.

“Thank you.” Breathlessly, you say. You take a seat and dump your purse onto the counter. “Got a busy day today. I’ve got a meeting, and I’m meeting Maria for lunch, and I’ve got a date—“

Joel’s face heats up. He turns to face you, striving to stay indifferent.

“A date?” Nonchalant, he asks. He slings a dish-cloth over his shoulder, and lifts a brow. “Does this man know that he’s going on a date with you?”

You make a face while stuffing a fork-full of pastry into your mouth. He’s so smug. With his stupid flannel and stupid little hat, you just want to rip the complacency from his lips. But he’s a good man. Just likes to try and take you down a few pegs.

But he can’t. Because you’re stubborn. And a little annoying.

“No, I just thought that I’d show up at his house in the middle of the night—because I’ve followed him home from work a few times and know where he lives—and rip him right out of his bed just like the troll that Danny Devito plays in Its Always Sunny.”

Joel let’s out a little laugh, not bothering to argue that what you had just told him didn’t actually happen in that episode, but finding it funny nonetheless.

He nods his head to you. “What’s his name?”

“Marcus.” Exaggerating your heart-eyed gaze, you tell him. “I met him at Costco—“

“Ah, Costco. Where every great love story starts. First you’re bulk-buying toilet paper, the next you’re sharing a dollar fifty hot dog—“

“Ha ha, Joel, you’re soooo funny.”

“I try.” He says, flippant, pouring coffee into another customer’s cup when they appear at the counter for a refill. He lifts the carafe and gestures to your almost-empty mug. “Want another?”

Your gaze is set on your wristwatch. It’s seven twenty-nine, and you need to be at work for nine thirty. Mentally you strive to figure out how much more time you can spend at the cafe, before you’re having to leave to get there on time.

“Is it maple hazel flavored?”

Joel tilts his head, glaring at you.

You swig the dregs of latte in your mug, and then push the polka-dot ceramic across to him. “Please.” You say, shyly.

Joel busies himself with customers, and general business-owner things for a few minutes while you finish your cinnamon roll and coffee. You can’t help watching him.

Because he’s great. He’s very caring—though extremely stern at times—and you know that if you’re having a bad day, Joel is only a two minute and thirteen second walk away.

He feels the same, too. Kind of. He knows that you’ll be sauntering into his shop at some point every day, and finds himself looking forward to seeing your wide-eyed gaze and larger-than-life smile.

And though he won’t admit it in so many words, Joel has a soft spot for you. It hasn’t always been apparent—he thought that you were utterly insufferable and obsessive when he first met you—but he can’t deny the fact that his life would be very dull without you.

Even if you do have a tendency to try to get underneath his skin.

“Are you dating, Joel?”

He rolls his eyes.

“What? It’s a very normal question to ask somebody that hasn’t been in a serious relationship for an entire twelve months.”

He pulls the cloth from his shoulder and wipes at his hands. “You and I both know that I ain’t got no interest in settlin’ down with anyone. Not yet, anyway.”

“You were willing to with Tess.” Pushing things a little, you say. You lift the coffee mug to your lips when Joel opens his mouth to chastise you, but he can’t.

He can’t because you’re right. He can’t because he wanted to, once upon a time. Before Tess walked out of his life—not long after you started frequenting his shop—he wanted it all. A wife, kids, the white picket fence that his parents had back in Austin when he was a kid.

But it doesn’t always work out that way, and Joel has learned to live with the idea that if it’s too good to be true, then it most likely is.

“I can set you up with someone—“

“Not happening.” He says. “Last time you sent me on a blind date, the girl asked me if I was into pegging.”

You giggle. “Well? Are you—“

Joel says your name, glaring pointedly.

“Sorry.” Instinctively, your lips are set into a straight line. “But I can totally do better, this time. I know this girl—she works at this law firm—and—“

“Not interested.”

“Okay.” You smile, tight-lipped. You lift your mug, striving for your third cup of coffee this morning.

Joel pours the liquid gold into the cup, before he’s telling you that he’s not going to be giving you another for fear of you ricocheting off of each wall in his place.

“You’ll turn into a cup ‘a coffee one day.”

Nodding—with a completely content smile—you say; “least I’ll be happy.”

“You’re always happy.” Joel mithers to himself, turning away. It’s one thing that he admires about you, though loathes at the same time.

Endless optimism and positivity is only something that he can long for, because he’s simply not capable of it. It baffles him how you are, especially when he’s—on occasion—so rude to you. So miserable, and cold, and completely undeserving of your friendship.

He likes that you’re so forgiving. That—even after he accidentally offended you last summer when making a comment about your then boyfriend—you can never hold a grudge, especially when it comes to him.

Because you both hold one another on a pedestal so high, neither can seem to do anything to tear themselves down. And Joel really enjoys your daily routine. That’s why he’s never not in the shop.

“You got any weekend plans?”

“Never do.”

You stretch out your arms—intertwining your fingers as you do to make them click—and offer a small smile when he cringes.

“You wanna catch a movie?” Shirking the idea that you have a date tonight—with a man who you really aren’t all that interested in, you’re just being nice—you propose.

Joel’s heart starts to beat at a tempo that’s noticeably quicker than usual. Not a lot, but it’s certainly faster.

“I think that the theatre downtown is showing the original Beetlejuice, on Saturday.”

He nods, approving. “I—uh—I’ll have to get someone to cover—“

“I’m sure you can ask your brother. Or maybe Maria?”

“I ‘spose.” Reluctant, he says. “But what about Michael? What if he wants a second date?”

“Well, his name is Marcus. And if he wants a second date—which I doubt he will—then he’ll just have to live with the fact that I have plans with a friend on Saturday night.”

He hopes that you can’t see him blush.

“Won’t it be weird?”

“Why?”

“We hardly speak outside of the shop.”

“God, Joel.” You throw your head back, laughing. “We’re the same people wherever we are. And we’re going to the movies—not a lot of talking takes place there, hon.”

His nostrils flare at your sarcasm, but mainly at the little pet name. Joel knows that you’re sweet—that you often use those terms of endearment when speaking with those that you care about—but it does something to him.

Something that he does not like.

“You can either come, or stay here and be miserable because you have no social life, or no girlfriend, or no other friends aside from me, your brother, and your brother’s wife—“

“Alright, fine.” Joel stops your miniature hate-train, and puts his hands against the counter. Your eyes zone in on the veins embellished within tan skin—how prominent they are when he’s fronting irritation—and let out a small sigh.

He’d be a lot more handsome if he smiled more, you think.

“So.” You paw at your purse, pulling it off the wood. “I’ll let you know what time the showing is, and we can make plans around that.”

Joel rounds the island and follows you as you pad toward the door, veritably sweating. “Plans?” He asks. “You never said nothin’ ‘bout plans. I thought we were just gonna catch a movie?”

“We are.” You tell him. “But we need to buy snacks, and grab dinner before we go—“

“Now you’re just describing a date.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m describing hanging out with a friend, Joel.”

“A friend?”

“An acquaintance…?” Testing the waters, you ask. Your eyes squint a bit, awaiting his retort.

But he just smiles.

“A friend.”

You smile back. Bigger.

“Perfect.” Your purse is slinging over your shoulder, and you pull your jacket to close so that the darned loops don’t get stuck on the door handle. Again. “I can’t wait.”

“It’ll be…nice.”

“Jeez, Joel. At least try to sound enthused.”

His hands shoot up in defense. “I am. Just have a hard time showin’ it.”

Your head nods. “I know. I’m only kidding. It’s nobody’s fault that you’re the human equivalent of Oscar The Grouch—“

“Alright, get out.” He holds open the door for you, smiling tight-lipped as he watches you leave. “Enjoy your meeting. And your lunch. And your date.”

You chuckle, thanking him with another bright smile.

“See you in the morning, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You step onto the sidewalk—that’s festooned with red and orange leaves as the tree above starts to shed its skin—turning to wave at him. “See ‘ya, kiddo.”

[sillyteecup]

A Lethal Shot Of Passion

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

Warnings:

18+

Swearing/Cursing

Minor injuries

Alcohol consumption

Innocent character held at gunpoint

Smut

Unprotected sex (please bazalwane, one condom one round)

Gunplay (minor) (logic does not live here besties)

Breath play

Degradation

Impact play

Edging

Orgasm denial

These people just might hate each other

Technically stalking ig

Word count: 5468🧍🏾‍♀️

A.N: so, here's my very late submission for the Terry Birthday bas by @megamindsecretlair . Also, introducing the Milaverse where I will be writing a bunch of oneshots, all in different universes with there only being 3 constants: Mila, Terry, and smut. I really wanted to do a fluffy one this time around but I couldn't get this out of my head, so the next one will hopefully be some cutesy stuff. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this, and thanks for reading and engaging. (also, let me know if you wanna be on the taglist for all Milaverse fics)

~Tee❤️

Ah yes, Sundays.

Good food, a glass of wine, good music, maybe a good trip, but most importantly, good old peace and quiet. Relaxation aside, Sundays meant no work calls for Mila, which meant no dealing with her annoying Team Leader, Terry. In another life, this would have been enough for her to believe in God.

Having finished what was supposed to be a weekend-long mission in Singapore in a mere day, Mila had taken her early clock out as a vacation opportunity. And so there she was, in Phuket with her locs in a ponytail, and a clay face mask, wearing nothing but her older brother's old Outkast t-shirt and a pair of white crocs, lounging before a lush mountain view enjoying her third glass of Shiraz. A knock sounded at the front door of the villa, making her groan. The knock was soon followed by the familiar voice of one of the housekeeping ladies announcing herself. Mila pressed her lips together in mild annoyance as this was the second time she'd have to exist in the company of the older and mouthy lady, completely killing the peace she enjoyed in solitude.

“Coming!” she called as she ruefully placed the glass of wine on the table in front of her.

In 5 long, impatient strides, she reached the door and opened it to a view that irritated her to no end.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, glaring at the disruption standing before her.

“Oh, room servi-” Mrs Suwan began to respond before being cut off by Mila.

“I'm sorry Mrs Suwan but I'm actually talking to the big headed oaf behind you,” Mila said, eyes narrowing at the 6’1, now green eyed, honey skinned, undying pain in her ass behind the much shorter and somewhat terrified looking Thai woman.

Terry's lips quirked into what one would swear was a smile, but to Mila was a nasty sneer. “Now Mila, that's no way to talk to your husband who's trying to surprise you,” he spoke cooly, baffling Mila. She noticed Mrs Suwan wince slightly as her body jerked suddenly.

Which meant-

“Especially after everything I went through to make it happen,” he added, now through gritted teeth, confirming her suspicion. Terry was angry, and angry Terry was someone nobody dared to knowingly tango with. Even more so when he had a weapon in his hand. So Mila played along, hoping he would release the older woman between them if she let him in.

“Mila,” Terry said, snatching her out of her head and right back into the real world. The real world where he glared at her expectantly while still maintaining that strained grin.

She swallowed her pride and wore an expression that rivaled his. “I'm sorry sweetheart, I just wasn't expecting you. Come on in,” she bit out as sweetly as she humanly could.

Although the intense staring contest with Terry continued, Mila caught a glimpse of Mrs Suwan’s posture relaxing in her peripheral, as the quiet click of a gun being put on safety sounded behind her. “Thank you, Mrs Suwan. I'll be leaving a generous tip for your services,” he said, not once letting his smoldering glare at Mila falter.

Suwan nodded and scurried away, likely about to cry or throw up from trauma. Although sympathetic, Mila paid her no mind, only focusing on Terry, whose smile instantaneously dropped the moment she left.

“She couldn't even see you smiling, you fucking idiot,” Mila hissed, making no move to let him into her temporary space.

"I was committing to the bit.”

“While holding her at gunpoint?”

“Nudge in the right direction.”

A beat passed in the middle of their back and forth as Mila took in his appearance properly. With a duffel bag slung over shoulder, he was dressed in a royal blue knit golfer that revealed his bulging muscular arms, and navy slacks that likely shaped that juicy ass she often stole glances at during training, at the gym and during post-mission se-

His face however, didn't sell the polished image too well. Aside from the likely cut that was hidden beneath the bandage on his eyebrow, the remnants of his last fight were glaring. A split lower lip, dark with dried blood, a cut healing along his tense jaw, and most obviously, the dark bruise forming below his left eye, all told her everything she needed to know about his weekend.

“You look like shit,” was all she said though, not sure if it was safe to ask why.

Terry's features scrunched up in momentary distaste at the comment, before he took another to scan her appearance, basically eye-fucking her with his cutting gaze.

“Well you don't look so fresh and so clean yourself 3-stacks,” he retorted cooly, his bluff making Mila roll her eyes.

“Whatever nigga,” was all she said before she stepped to the side to finally let him into the villa.

Terry stepped in but not without immediately dropping his back onto the one of the couches, slamming the door behind him and grabbing Mila's wrist to drag her into the kitchen. He cornered her against the counter where the rest of her ingredients lay abandoned. His nostrils flared subtly, as his usual even glare bore through her with a tinge of fury. His large hands were on her sides, gripping at the edge of the counter and caging her in should she attempt an escape.

“You've been annoyingly hard to find,” he stated, his tone low and dangerous, like him in the field.

“It's almost like that's my literal job description,” Mila bit out sarcastically, her fiery glare matching his to a T.

Terry's jaw shifted as he likely ground his teeth. Mila fought the urge to respond with a quip about how that was bad for his precious pearly whites that he cared about so much. But she had already committed to being passively rebellious and she figured he was in no mood to hear a joke about his appearance. Especially considering his current state.

“Last I checked, ghosting your Team Leader wasn't in your contract,” Terry scoffed, his burning gaze setting her skin ablaze.

“Neither is having said Team Leader barge into my personal space on a Sunday, yet here you are,” Mila snarked, getting increasingly impatient.

Terry let out a sardonic chuckle, before firmly grabbing her chin. “Mila, I am not in the best mood right now, so I advise that for your own sake, you watch your fucking tone,” he snarled, venom dripping from his deep baritone.

Ignoring the shiver his tone sent down her spine, she tilted her head up even further, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Or what? You stick a gun against my forehead till you get your way? Nah, you're too much of a bitch to do that to your equals. I know, you're gonna pull out the usual! Bend me over and fuck me silly till I catch an attitude again? Huh Bitchmond? You gonna-” her tirade was promptly cut off by the hand that previously held her chin, now firmly gripping her throat, almost promising to tear it out. An additional surprise was the cold barrel of a gun pressing her chin.

“How ‘bout I do you one better? How ‘bout I shut that big ass mouth of yours and make you gag and slobber all over this here glock. And then when you've got it all nice and wet for me, I'll use it fuck that pretty little cunt of yours till the only thing you can remember is that I am your fucking superior,” he muttered darkly, every last ounce of restraint turning to dust.

Tears pricked through Mila’s eyes as with every word he cut off more and more air from her lungs. This made her pooling arousal all the more disgraceful to an unfamiliar spectator. However this was what Mila decided she wanted the moment she invited him in. No one, except Mila dared to knowingly Tango with an angry Terry, because to her, angry Terry meant sweet, twisted release that nobody else could grant her. Only she knew which buttons to push and how. Only she could rile him up and get exactly what she wanted from his rage.

Still, she mentally cursed herself when she noticed how her lack of underwear caught his attention, like a wolf catching the scent of prey. His hazel irises darkened even more than what Mila thought was possible, as a dark sneer spread across his face.

“Of course you like that shit. You. Filthy. Little. Whore,” he snickered mockingly, punctuating every word with a taunting tap to the cheek with the gun.

“Safe word?” he demanded, loosening his grip on her neck but not completely removing his hand.

“Moonstone,” Mila choked, struggling to speak between the breaths she was trying to catch up on.

“Who?”

“Sir.”

And with that confirmation of consent, the show was back on as Terry grinned slyly. He traced the butt of the gun along her left cheek, drawing lines and circles until he reached the corner of her lips. “Safety’s still on. Open up,” he commanded raspily.

Ever defiant, Mila parted her lips and spat out a defiant, “fuck you.” Terry's grin morphed into a malicious sneer as his grip around her throat tightened once again, snatching her right to breathe.

“Now I already told you that I ain't in the mood for no bullshit, so open that fucking mouth or God help Me I'm going to rip your fucking jaw in half with my bare fucking hands,” he seethed, fury laced in his still low tone.

A spark of rebellion passed through Mila's eyes as she spat in his face. Anything to get him to completely snap and make their little game go faster.

Children, this is a cautionary tale to be careful what you wish for.

His eyes went cold, and the rest of his features emotionless. He removed his hand from her skin and took a step back to retrieve a handkerchief from one of the pockets of his slacks. He wiped the substance from his face, his features not moving an inch from their stoic state. He then balled the now wet material up and marched back up to Mila whose triumphant smirk fell into a fearful grimace as she tried to book it for the room upstairs. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough, as signified by Terry's iron grip on her ponytail yanking her back against him.

“You know that was fucking stupid right?” he demanded, voice ragged from his labored breaths.

Understanding that she had flown too close to the sun, Mila internally surrendered. “Yes sir,” she whimpered in a mix of fear and pain from the sting of her thoughts being snatched out of her scalp.

“And you know what comes next right?”

Mila sighed as realization set in. Nothing is ever worth a week of paralysis from the waist down, yet that was exactly what she had ordered. Lust made her irrational and now she was gonna pay the price. But what else was new?

“Yes sir.”

While parts of her legs ached from being pushed and practically dragged up the stairs of the villa, a disgusting sting of excitement burned all over Mila’s skin. Yes, she was fucked, but she was also about to be fucked: a win was a win. Even when Terry let go of her locs as he discarded her onto white covered, large double bed that took up most of the space in the room...until Terry stepped in of course, she couldn’t help but to rub her thighs together to quell the anticipation making itself known underneath the oversized t-shirt. Her Team Leader, for all his quirks on the more annoying side, was what she considered an amazing lay who never failed to shake her world up whenever it collided with his. And that was just on his more mildly frustrated, but relatively nonchalant days. Although she had never crossed this far into the inferno that was Terry’s notoriously violent rage, she had learned on a few occasions that once her little green-eyed monster’s nostrils flared, a time was about to be had, albeit at the cost of functional lower limbs.

You win some, you lose some.

She used all her might to fight the smirk that threatened to tug at her lips, but it was futile. By the way the flecks in Terry’s irises darkened blazed momentarily, she had lost dismally. He stood silently at the foot of the bed, the decade in Academi evident in his bone straight posture. In his hand, like an extension of the limb, was the tool that had aided his rampage, threatening as it gleamed against the dim glow of the lamps that illuminated the bedroom. Even with the remnants of his last fight, he still looked unreal. The soft, luscious pink lips, the glow of his honey skin, and those deep bright eyes whose natural state eluded her due to his guarded demeanor and ever changing moods, had maintained his otherworldly appearance; but the bruises and cuts that littered his godly face, came with the addition of something more rugged. His steely and borderline hateful glare melted with a drizzle of desire while he likely contemplated how to deal with Mila’s blatant disregard for his authority. Mila itched with the need to break the biting ice. She had even settled on a quip about how he looked even sexier when he was beat up, but Terry’s low and cold tone beat her to the punch. 

“You’re excited,” he noted, a hint of irritation inflecting in his tone. 

“I know what I’m in for. Sue me for reacting accordingly,” she retorted with a shrug, a miniscule prior semblance of submission having evaporated under the heat of his gaze. 

Terry let out a near silent but all the more sinister snicker as he shook his head and scratched his jaw. “You a smart little bitch aren’t ya? Aight then Einstein, that little toy you carry everywhere? In my hand. Now!” the command came out as a growl that Mila immediately obeyed. 

After a quick search through her suitcase and her second toiletry bag, Mila retrieved the hot pink and royal purple silicone toy and its accompanying lube, and immediately placed them both in his outstretched palm. Terry hummed approvingly at her obedience before speaking again: “I’m giving you 5 minutes to wash your face while I head downstairs and get something to drink. By the time I get back up here, I want you on this bed, naked, on your back and with your legs wide open for me,”  he instructed, leaving the two new additions to his arsenal on one of the complementary towels splayed across one of the corners of the bed.

And that’s exactly what she did. She rinsed her mask off then cleansed and scrubbed away at her face before moisturising. She tossed her t-shirt into the guest hamper in the bathroom and slid the crocs off her pedicured feet. She then assumed the given position, slowly lying back into the foam mattress covered in white sheets and duvets, and spreading her legs wide enough to give Terry a clear view of what awaited him.

The man of the hour returned to the room with his duffel around his shoulder, the bottle of Mila’s Shiraz, and a single glass. Mila watched, antsy as he dropped his bag near the bathroom door and set the wine and the glass on one of the nightstands. He then wordlessly moved to climb the bed, kneeling at the edge and reaching out to grab Mila by the backs of her thighs and yanking her towards him, eliciting a sharp squeal. A loud slap rang through the room, followed by a yelp. His calloused hands struck the outside of her thighs, one by one, one sharp smack after another. All Mila could muster were cries of pain and lust as the stinging on her thighs birthed an ugly baby named arousal. The suddenness of Terry’s attack sent her reeling and unable to think straight, which was ironic considering the fact that she was trained to maintain cognisance regardless of what was being thrown her way.

Unfortunately no amount of training can prepare you for the wrath of Terrence Richmond, fuck or foe.

“Just ‘cause ain’t a paddle, don’t mean you shouldn’t be counting,” Terry stated gruffly as he increased the pressure of each smack.

“I don’t know-” she cried out before being promptly cut off by a moan that tore from her own throat at an even harder crack.

“Then figure it out. Ain’t that what smart-mouthed whores like you do?” he asked, mockingly. “You better get that shit right too, ‘cause I don’t mind improvising and starting from the top to wear that ass out properly,” he promised with a malicious sneer.

Mila mentally clawed at her own brain, desperate to figure out what number they were on. Maybe in the first 5, she would have gotten to the answer immediately, but Terry had waited before reminding her, and worst of all he wasn’t even stopping. This light-skinned, grinch-eyed motherfucker had set her up for failure from the start and judging from the growing tent in his slacks, he was getting off on it. Except Mila would have had the chance to avoid the brick wall if she had just remembered to count from the start. And there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that he would keep his promise and get creative: painfully creative. But right as the thought crossed her mind, Terry’s assault came to an abrupt halt, leaving Mila’s thighs a smoking debris on the outside and a soaked mess on the inside. He was getting dangerously unpredictable.

“Hmm, I’m over here singing your praises, calling you a genius little slut, but you can’t even do something as simple as count? Disappointing,” he taunted with a scrutinizing glare. He sucked his teeth in as he leaned over to grab the vibrator from the towel, slowly moisturizing it with the lube next to it. 

Her teary brown eyes met his steely, focused silver ones as he harshly wrenched her legs apart. His features softened when he once again caught a whiff of her sweet, vanilla-peach scent, eyes closing as the pads of his fingers danced lightly on her skin while he basked in it with a slow inhale. Mila bit back a smile at what was to come. Her pussy may have just thrown Terry off whatever treacherous course he had intended for her…or he had just cut her punishment short and was about to fuck her anyway. Either way, what bliss. Terry’s expression however turned back to stone as he had freed himself from the momentary trance. Mila held space though, hoping that despite whatever he had planned, she would still get her fill.

“You’ve gotten too damn comfortable with me Mila. I knew that little attitude of yours would be a problem the moment you were assigned to me, but I thought I could fix it. I tried tougher drills, I tried harder warm-ups, and you just got worse. So I got alternative, I tried being nice, and unfortunately all that did was make me care about you beyond your safety on the field,” he vented, still keeping his tone low and menacing. Mila recalled how he had been a nuclear asshole when she had first joined his team. He had already been a bit of a standoffish prick by the time she arrived, but her defiance against his tone and unreasonable drills sent him over the edge. 

So Mila pushed even further. Terry then reverted-actually became more tolerable than when she had met him. Sure, his tone still had a bite to it when he spoke to her, but he was more considerate and more respectful. Never nice though. Which is why she had been surprised when he told her that she was slowly becoming his weakness and that he was finding it harder and harder to pull away from her. And despite their past spats, Mila was forced to confront her desire for him and her enjoyment of their incessant push-and-pull. That was how they built what she called their “healthily toxic love affair”. Without the love of course, because to Terry, outside of his concern for her safety, it was still about keeping her under control.

“Then you let me take creative liberty when you let me fuck it out of you. I thought giving you wanted would quell that agitating fire in you, but I was wrong. So fucking wrong, because now you’re disappearing on me, ignoring warnings, calling me out my name. Spitting in my gotdamn face,” he gritted through his teeth, fingers still tracing light circles, effectively igniting another flame on her inner thighs.

Mila tucked her lip between her teeth, keeping a snarky retort down her throat because the universe knows that Terry’s fury would likely tear through it and her if she said what was on her mind.

“I can’t keep giving you everything if you can’t give me the one thing I expect of you. Come on Einstein, tell me what that is,” he said with an expectant glare.

“Respect,” Mila replied softly, earning another sharp smack, this time to her inner thigh at the incomplete answer. “Respect sir, ‘m sorry,” she whimpered.

“Trust me Mila, unless you tap out and say your safeword, you will be,” he expressed, his dark promise coated in sincerity. 

“I don’t wanna say it sir.”

“Mmmh.” 

She watched intently as he turned the vibrator on, the low hum growing with every increasing setting. Her eyes widened as he inserted the toy in her sopping cunt, immediately sending unearthly shockwaves through her body. The unholiest of potential noise complaints spilled from her lips as the vibrator worked at her clit and g-spot at once. The overwhelming sensations dulled her mind, weakening her resolve than any of the drills Terry had ever thrown at her. All she could see was the orgasmic light at the end of the tunnel, a light she ran towards until her path was blocked by an evil set of greens and her breathing being cut off. 

Fingers pinching at her nose and a heavy forearm pressing against her chest, his gaze burned through her skull as he spoke: “Nah, none of that. Orgasms are for respectful little whores. And you,” he paused to chuckle, “ain’t even halfway there.”

With that, he was off the bed, leaving Mila there to curl and writhe in the bed she had made. He bent over to rummage through his duffel before finally retrieving…a book. A fucking book. He grabbed the wine and glass from the night stand, stealing one last glance at Mila. “I’m not gon’ hold you though, this is a nice ass place,” he noted lightheartedly before retreating to the balcony, closing the sliding door behind him and getting comfortable in the hanging loveseat.

30 minutes.

That was the amount of time that Terry had left Mila to suffer for before making his return from his me-time. By then, Mila only existed between a deep seated regret for crossing someone as twisted as Terry Richmond, and an even deeper desperation for release. Although he was seated beside her, he had made no move to remove the torture machine from her pussy. All he did was watch indifferently as the toy repeatedly drilled the lesson into her while she writhed and squirmed about. Finally, he lulled her from her frenzied state, rolling her to her back and removing the vibrator. His touch felt cold against her raw skin, eliciting a pained groan. Her vision was blurred, but she could still see him smirking down at her in twisted satisfaction. 

She heard him tsk at the soaked toy before he redirected his attention to her. 

“Always gotta make shit harder than it has to be, huh? Now look at you,” he spat, still fairly vexed by her display earlier.

“‘M sorry sir. So sorry,” she managed to whimper through quivering lips. 

Terry only clicked his tongue before getting up and taking his belt off. He made a single loop, wrapping one end around his knuckles. Naively, Mila tried to crawl away, only to be manhandled onto Terry’s lap with her stomach against his muscular thighs. “You miss a number, I start again, understood?” he inquired sternly.

“Yes sir,” Mila replied with a desperate nod.

Smack! “One, sir!”

“You gon’ learn how to fucking talk to me Mila!”

Smack! “Two sir!”

“You gon’ learn to treat me with some fucking respect!”

Smack! “Three sir!”

“You gon’ learn that me and you ain’t equals!” 

Smack! “Four sir!”

“I am your superior in every sense of the fucking word!”

Smack! “Five sir!”

“I fucking own you!”

Smack! Six sir!”

“Say it,” he growled, arching her back as he held her up with a first in the now loose ponytail.

“You own me sir,” she whimpered, earning another stinging crack of leather to her bare ass.

“Ah-seven sir!”

“And?”

“We’re not equa-” Smack! “Gyahhh! Ei-eight sir!”

“Again,” he commanded.

“We’re not equals!” 

“Because?”

“Because you own me sir!”

With two final cracks of his belt to the pricking skin on her ass, Terry rolled her body off his lap, ragdolling her onto her back. He wasted no time discarding his shirt before taking his dress shoes off. His dick had all but strained against the material of his slacks from snuffing out the brat in Mila and he was ready for his more personal dues. He made quick work of his pants along with his boxers, long and girthy glory springing free for play time. Roughly grabbing her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, he lined himself up at her entrance. Her body jerked as he rammed his way into her now flooded cunt, filling her like a piece of herself that had been missing. The feeling of him bottoming out felt like she was being completed.

Mercilessly, he rammed in out of her, the sound of his pelvis slapping against her ass akin to the clap of thunder. Moans, cries, and screams of pleasure and praise slowly ate away at Mila’s voice. Her throat had begun to dry and fizzle from the way she exerted her vocal chords. The next person to hear her would think she had been at a Beyonce concert. Until they saw her body of course. Terry made her skin a foster home for his mouth, kissing, sucking and biting at whatever he could taste like a starved bear. 

“Whose fucking pussy is this?” he rasped as he fucked her mind into nothing.

“It’s yours sir! All yours,” Mila screamed, unable to contain the fire Terry's unforgiving thrusts into her.

Bright green eyes darkened with lust bore into her soul, the erotic stare making Mila even wetter. The familiar knock of impending release began knocking for Mila to open up, and she had no issue reaching for the handle after turning it away for so long. However she hadn’t accounted for Terry reading her like a novel he had finished 4 times over. Suddenly his hand was wrapped around her throat, squeezing like she were a foe.

“You thought this shit was for you wasn’t it? Nah baby, I’m just trying to catch a nut before my nap,” he growled tauntingly, a damn near demonic smirk splayed across his features. 

“Don’t get it twisted Mila. The only reason I cut shit so short is jet lag. You ain’t earned shit yet,” he chuckled menacingly, feeling spurred on by the tears in Mila’s eyes making their umpteenth appearance that afternoon.

“Bu-but…I said…I said I…’m sorry,” Mila whimpered helplessly.

“I’m sure you are. But I need that shit to stick. Need you to remember what happens when you boutta forget who the fuck you talking to. Need you to remember the consequences for taking my kindness for granted,” he said, finally about to chase his own high.

All he granted Mila was a warning before he came inside her with a guttural groan. As he caught his breath, Mila held onto a hope that maybe by some miracle, Terry was joking. Unfortunately her hope was snatched away with the feeling of him inside of her when he pulled out. Her heart dropped as he grabbed his duffel from the hardwood floor and made his way into the bathroom. With the pent up tension eating at her, she couldn’t even console herself with the view of his retreating ass. The sound of water rushing into the bathtub reached her ears, deepening her disappointed frown. But it wasn’t long before he had come back out though, once again fueling a spark of optimism in her heart, until he gently scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the en suite bathroom. As the water began to fill the large tub, Terry gently placed her body inside before retreating into the shower a mere step away.

Unsurprising considering his chronic fear of non-sexual intimacy.

Mila sighed in contempt as she slid further into the tub. The hot water soothed most of her body while stinging at her ass. If she hadn’t survived worse, she would probably be crying in pain. The water reached her neck, prompting her to close the faucet. She turned her head slightly to glance at the shower. The glass doors were blanketed in condensation, obscuring her view of the delectable looking cause of her ruining cleaning himself up. Then a mischievous thought crossed her mind.

If she couldn’t see Terry, then that meant he couldn’t see her.

So she slowly inched her hand down her abdomen, touching herself until finally her fingertips ghosted over her clit-

“Don’t even think about it!”

Mila was back in the living room, nose buried in one of Terry’s many books he always had on him, while the man in question napped upstairs. Gold Teeth by Blood Orange played softly in the background to drown out Terry’s slightly less soft snores from upstairs. Flicking to a new page, something fell onto her lap. Absent-mindedly picking up what she thought was a bookmark, Mila lifted it to hold it against the page Terry had marked. As the object lifted into her view, her eyebrow arched. The bookmark was Terry’s I.D. Her attention was immediately on the picture, displaying a slightly younger Terry with less frown lines and a mini-fro Mila wished he had kept. Even younger Terry wore the same stoic expression he was notorious for unless he was yelling. She snorted to herself before her eyes shifted to the words on the side.

Terrence James-yeah he seems like a James-Richmond

03/17/1992

Mila frowned at his birth date. She thought Terry was at least in his 40s with how uptight he was. She always chalked his appearance up to good genes and “black don’t crack”. Then there was the date formatting that never failed to irk her anytime one of her American peers or friends would show her their licenses or the time on their phones.

Oh, and there was the fact that today was March 17th.

“Kganti le Terrence wa birthday’a? I never expeded it,” she joked to herself right as the card was snatched from her hand.

She craned her neck up slightly to find Terry’s tired, unamused stare trained on her. She grinned innocently, not sure how he’d react to her little quip since he had clearly heard it. To be fair, he didn’t really move like the laws of humanity applied to him.

“You know contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a regular person,” he snarked, turning Mila’s grin into a smirk that said, “really? You?” 

He simply clicked his tongue before snatching his book too and making his way to sit on the opposite end of the couch. Not letting him enjoy his peace since he had taken hers away, she moved closer to him, nearly close enough for their arms to touch. The point was to annoy him, not violate his boundaries. Still, she poked him in the side, earning a mildly annoyed glare. For someone who had probably flown across the world to find her, despite her ensuring she was impossible to track down, he sure had a funny way of expressing his desire to be around her. She didn’t mind it though. This was the closest to nice she would ever get out of Terry and if she was being real, she liked him like this. 

“Happy birthday Dumbo,” she said, taking a shot at his ears. He rolled her eyes, a ghost of a genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Whatever nigga.”

[starlight--writings]

Oops

Max Verstappen x Female!Vettel!Reader

Summary: Max and Y/N had kept their relationship under wraps, worried about the backlash about it considering that Y/N is Sebastian Vettel’s daughter.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Y/N is adopted, set in 2019. Face claim is Sabrina Carpenter and the side/back of Kelly Piquet’s head.

DISCLAIMER: I do not know any if the people in this work of fiction. This is purely created for entertainment purposes only!

Y/N_vettel5

📍Red Bull Ring, Austria

Liked by 22,862 people

It’s Sunday, you know what that means 🏎 🏁

Comments

Charles_leclerc Let’s go 💪

Scuderiaferrari Another week, another race!

Fan_account1 Does she not have a real job????🙄

Maxverstappen33 Can’t wait to see you again now you’re on summer break!! 🏖

Y/N_vettel5 Me too, so glad I can join you guys! University is killing meee

Landonorris That sounds self inflicted 🧐

Y/N_vettel5 Not the point!!!

Sebastianvettel So glad you’re joining me this weekend Y/N!

Y/N_vettel5 I can’t wait to see you papa!❤️

Y/N_vettel5

📍Hockenhiemring, Germany

Liked by 20,946 people

German Grand Prix ft Max’s shoulder 😂

Also, well done on getting second papa!! 🙌

Comments

Sebastianvettel Thank you honigbiene, I'm glad that you enjoyed yourself!

Maxverstappen33 Of all the pictures of us, this is the one you picked?

Y/N_vettel5 😁

Landonorris You two have more pictures together?? Very sus 🧐

Scuderiaferrari Our favourite grid kid!

Y/N_vettel5 Awww thank you 🫶

Fanaccount2 Now I need to see these other photos

Fan_account3xo Literally, this is the friendship we never knew we needed!!

F1_news

Liked by 2.1 million people

Just friends or potentially more? Max Verstappen and Y/N Vettel seem to have a very close friendship after last years German Grand Prix. They've been caught together multiple times and are very friendly.

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Maxverstappen33

Liked by 456,698 people

If a women ever asks you to go book shopping, be aware that you will be out all day.

Comments

Sebastianvettel I did warn you!

Y/N_vettel5 Thank youuuu bestie❤️

Maxverstappen33 I never should have made friends with a bookworm.

Y/N_vettel5 Nope, but you're stuck with me now 😁🫶

Landonorris That's a date if ever I saw one

Danielricardo I leave for 5 minuets and Max gets a girlfriend???

Landonorris Yep!

Y/N_vettel5 We're not together!

Alex_albon You might want to tell him that!

Fanaccount2 Ohhhh the plot thickens

Y/N_vettel5

📍Spa, Belgium

Liked by 32,541 people

My last Grand Prix before I have to go back to school😭

Comments

Scuderiaferrari Happy to have had you these past few weeks, good luck at school!

Sebastianvettel Thank you for joining me for these races honigbiene, I wish you the best of luck with your studies this year!

Maxverstappen33 I can't believe you're leaving me for school! I will definitely be visiting you at some point, you cannot escape me.

Landonorris That's on you for choosing to go to uni

Y/N_vettel5 I have to go for my career

Fanaccount_4 The person behind the Ferrari insta is definitely besties with Y/N 😂

Y/N_vettel5 added to their story

F1_news

Liked by 584,383 people

BREAKING! Daughter of Formula One legend, Sebastian Vettel spotted outside a restaurant in Oxford with Red Bull’s golden boy Max Verstappen. See more…