#i don’t miss him but i do miss the feelings he gave me

[jinwoosbabyboo]

The First Meet Self-Aware!Caleb

Caleb always talked about how he would he would show you around SkyHaven when you got there. It was never an 'if' with him it was always a 'when'. Perhaps that should've been your first red flag, but when you have feelings for someone those red flags look a little pink A/N: I was chillin' in the N109Zone while I wrote this. Sylus rubbed my feet and brought me food. pt. 1 here

“Just give me some time….”

What did he mean by that? The memory of the way his voice shook and how it seemed like he was talking more to himself rather than you — haunted you endlessly. You spent your days on edge, looking over your shoulder, tossing and turning in your sleep and waking up out of breath. You were never able to use your phone again after that it just wouldn’t turn back on. You spun the new device in your hand flipping it over to see the new phone case you purchased for it.

Apples.

“Well thanks for the new phone Caleb” You mumbled to yourself, setting it aside on your desk before sitting down to get to work. Part of you missed playing Love and Deepspace, but you couldn’t bring yourself to download the app again after what happened with Caleb. For months you had managed to fall for that pixelated man only for it to end the way that it did. You still had no clue what he meant by ‘Give me some time’ but it gave you chills nonetheless.

“Hey!” You jumped at the sound of Camerons voice aka your work bestie. “What?” The word rushed out of you. She stared down at you with a concerned look “I’ve been trying to get your attention I called your name at least ten times” You blinked rapidly as you looked around trying to gather your scattered thoughts. You hadn't realized you were spacing out “I’m sorry I was just trying to get this finished by end of day” You smoothed out your shirt and turned to face your friend “What's up?” Just when you thought it would be bad news you watched as a saccharine grin spread across her face. “Somebody had these delivered” She pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind her back and gently placed them in your lap. “Just for you”

Your whole face lit up as you looked down at the gorgeous flowers. No one has ever gifted you flowers before. The gesture almost made you combust just from staring at them. Carefully picking them up, you took a long sniff relishing in the floral notes that filled your senses. After getting a good sniff you quickly searched the flowers for a card to see who your secret admirer could be.

‘𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑷𝒊𝒑-𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒂𝒌 ♡ ͏𝑰 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 -𝑪 ’

Your heart dropped to your ass in an instant; it can’t be Caleb he’s not real. You sprang to your feet letting the flowers fall to the floor — petals broke away from the stems as you kicked it away. The room grew blurry as your lungs constricted and your heart pounded like a drum in your ears. The last thing you saw was your friend reaching for you before you were suddenly counting the ceiling lights. Cameron shook you by your shoulders trying to get you to breathe properly. “What was in those flowers!? What did you do? Should I call 911?” She wasn’t speaking to you she was looking over her shoulder — who's she talking to? Please don’t let it be your boss that lady is strict enough as it is. She’ll have you head on a stick if she finds out you passed out on the clock.

“No I'll take it from here” A tall looming shadow stood over you; his face came into view as he leaned down and cupped your cheek in his hand. “Let’s go home pipsqueak you don’t look so well” Caleb? But how? You wanted to flinch away from his touch or get up and scramble away from him but your body was so heavy. “Ca…Caleb” It was so hard to speak your words coming out slurred as you continued to become even dizzier. “How?…..” His smile was blurry but his voice was clear "I take it you missed me considering this phone case"

The world seemed to be going by in flashes. First you were on the floor and next you were in someones arms and now you’re watching flashes of light pass by as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “Get some rest” A gentle hand rubbed small circles on your back willing you to sleep. The heavy weight of sleep outweighed your will to stay awake.

You were groggy as you rolled over and instinctively snuggled into your pillow. You wanted to go back to sleep, but the smell of breakfast had your stomach growling. Breakfast? You sat up in a panic looking around the foreign room. This was not your room and this was not your city. Fumbling out of bed you somehow managed to wrap your feet up in the sheets falling to the floor with a hard thud “Fuck that hurt” just then you heard heavy footsteps heading your way. Terror set in as you tried to untangle yourself from the blankets as the footsteps grew closer. “Come on come on come on” you begged the sheets that seemed to continuously grip onto your legs. “You can’t be serious” You whisper-yelled to yourself.

The room door opens softly and there stands Caleb with a look of worry. “What happened?” He rushes to your side and tries to help untangle you. “Caleb!?” Your eyes are practically bulging out of your head staring at the man in front of you. You wriggle and flail only making things worse “Hold still!” Caleb pins you in place with his evol as he unwraps your lower half from the sheets and blanket. “There. All done” He meets your stare and gives you those same puppy dog eyes that you remember all too well.

“W-where am I?” It took everything in you to keep from cowering into the corner. You knew there was no point in trying to run since he could quite literally pin you in place. He beamed as he gestured towards the floor to ceiling window “Welcome to SkyHaven I hope you enjoy your stay” He said with a wink. Your lips curled into an angry frown while your eyes ping ponged between the view and him. “What? Are you not happy to see me?”

“I don’t understand how I'm seeing you” You rolled your shoulder to try and quell the pain radiating from it. There will definitely be some bruising or at least some soreness later. “That’s classified information Pip-squeak” Before you could ask anymore questions Caleb pulled you to your feet like you weigh nothing. You looked up at him almost entranced by how handsome he is. You shook your head and snatched your hands from his. “Don’t give me that bullshit excuse! Take me home!”

He tilted his head and reached a hand out to caress your cheek “You are home” Although he had the warmest smile and lovestruck eyes; you couldn't help, but feel like a bucket of ice water was thrown on you. You stared dumbfounded; words escaping you.

Say something. Say something!

“I have to leave soon but I wanted to share a meal with you before then” That's when you noticed he was dressed in his colonel uniform — damn he looked so good too, but you refused to tell him that.

Suddenly he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out the door. You tripped over your own feet trying to keep up with his long strides. “I can walk on my own Caleb let go” You yanked at his grip and surprisingly he let go — only for him to swiftly sweep you off your feet and carry you bridal style into the dining room. He gently placed you in a chair and sauntered off to the kitchen returning with your favorite juice, a glass of water, and scallion pancakes. You stared at your plate not sure if you’re happy or pissed.

“I didn’t poison it so stop poutin’ and eat before it gets cold” You glanced at Caleb who occupied the seat next to you. He sat in a relaxed position with his head resting in his palm; studying you intently. You were still hesitant to eat anything this man put in front of you considering he kidnapped you to another world and won’t tell you how to get home. Caleb reaches a hand across you grabbing your knife and fork and slices a piece of your scallion pancake — popping it into his mouth with a subtle groan. He cuts another piece and turns the fork to you “See it’s safe”

You hesitantly part your lips as Caleb pushes the food into your mouth. The flavors bursting on your tongue had you audibly moaning as well. Caleb was a fantastic cook — you snatched the fork from his hand and dug right in taking a few sips of your drink to wash it down. The weight of his stare has you slowing down and immediately wiping your mouth “What are you staring at?” Calebs eyes soften as he slowly scans your face “You’re even more beautiful in person”

Even though you weren’t happy with him those words still gave you butterflies — you’ve been trying so hard to suppress them. You dropped your gaze and moved the last bits of your food around your plate “Don’t flirt with me you’re gonna make me nervous” He let out a soft chuckle and flicked your nose before leaning back in his chair — flashing that gorgeous smile of his. Caleb really was breathtaking; those violet eyes almost had you in a trance. You couldn’t help, but take in all his features — your eyes going from his eyes to his lips, taking notes of how full and soft they looked.

Continuing your perusal, you let your eyes move down, taking in his long muscular, but lean frame. His legs seemed to go for miles and you watched him spread them just a little wider when your eyes reached his lap. “You like what you see pip-squeak?” You finally snapped out of your self-inflicted trance and shook your head “You’re easy on the eyes even though you make my nervous system stand on end” You pushed your empty plate away, crossing your arms over your chest as you sat back in your chair.

Caleb didn’t respond immediately — opting to just give your cheek a caress as he grabbed your plate. His silence was unnerving to say the least. Is he upset? Are you the reason he’s upset? Staying quiet seemed to be the best option. “So I’ll be leavin’ for three days I want you to stay here and when I get back I promise to give you the grand tour of SkyHaven” His voice was accompanied by the sound of dishes clattering and running water.

“Three days?!” You choked on your drink causing you to cough loudly. Caleb stopped what he was doing and rushed to your side — rubbing your back as you caught your breath. “I’m not staying here for three days! I have a life back home!” You pushed his shoulder so you could stand and get some space. You knew by the way his brows furrowed and the chilling demeanor that washed over him in an instance that you’d made him mad. “And how exactly do you plan on getting ‘home’ pip-squeak?” He took a step toward you making you step back. You didn’t get far as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you flush against him. His eyes were becoming wild — this was the same look in his eyes before he ruined your phone for good. His heart was also beating rapidly in rhythm with yours.

You: Tell me how! Caleb: Didn’t you say you hated your job? You: Yes but- Caleb: Weren’t you the one who said you wanted someone to take care of you for once? You: Caleb I didn’t mean- Caleb: So why not stay here and be happy …. with me?

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you stood there letting part of yourself give in to him while the other half was ready to run out the door. Where would you go though? Who would help you? There’s no way Caleb is actually cruel enough to keep you here knowing damn well you don’t belong in this game. “I-I can’t” You croaked out not knowing if you wanted to kiss him or kick him. You watched Calebs’ expression fall, but he quickly covered it with a small grin. He stepped away from you and you almost chased after him due to the loss of warmth. He gripped you by your chin and you stood there frozen not sure what his next move would be. He narrowed his eyes as he searched your face for what? You didn’t know. To your surprise he placed the softest kiss on your lips. The gasp that followed was swallowed up by him as he deepened the kiss. Your mind screamed at you to give him a swift kick to the crotch, but your heart was melting in the palm of his hand.

You kissed him back with the same fervor.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him impossibly close. Caleb kissed you like he would never have this chance again while simultaneously savoring your lips like he had all the time in the world. He tapped the side of your thigh and you swiftly lifted it without question. Caleb picked you up, holding you close as he moved across the room and laid you down on the couch. He pulled away breathless and dropped his forehead on your chest “If we keep going I’ll be late for work”

“I should probably get home anyway Caleb we can talk about this another day, but let me go home first” You ran your hands through his hair — it was soft. He lifted his head and for the first time, since bringing up home, his eyes showed no sign of anger. “You’re right” He stood to his full height and helped you to your feet. “Lets get you some pain medication for your shoulder” He brushed his fingertips over the darkening area “Then I'll tell you how to get home” his words were almost a whisper.

“Thank you” You could feel the tension melting off of you in waves.

“Follow me” He helped you to your feet and headed down the hallway towards what you assume is his room. You followed closely behind him; stumbling a few times to keep up. Once you were in his room your stumbling became much harder to control. Your breathing was becoming heavy and your head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. You braced yourself against the wall willing the dizziness to stop.

“What’s wrong? Come lay down” Caleb said feigning concern. Your body was too heavy to even try to fight him so you allowed him to guide you into his bed and you felt a soft kiss on your forehead right before drifting off to sleep. “I’ll be back soon”

The room was dark only lit by the moon through the window when you woke up. You sat up glancing around the room trying to figure out where you were. It took a minute for your eyes to adjust, but once they did you saw the outline of a small lamp on the nightstand next to the bed.

No he didn’t.

You bolted out of bed at the sudden realization that you were still in Calebs home. “Caleb!” You yelled as you ran down the hall out into the living room. The place was dark and quiet not a single sign of another person. You ran to the front door, frantically trying to open it, but somehow Caleb managed to bolt this door shut making it impossible for you to leave. “He locked me in?” Think.

The windows!

You opened one of the few windows that wasn't floor to ceiling and found that it luckily wasn't sealed shut. Freedom was in reach. You went to put one leg out the window when you were met with an electrifying pain. “Ow! Damn it!” There was some kind of electromagnetic wall just outside the window. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Your breathing was ragged and tears streamed down your face uncontrollably. “Fuck you Caleb you were never going to let me leave”

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@luvdegreen

[eddiesxangel]

Babymoon | Rockstar!Eddie

Summery: rockstar!eddie and pop!princess are back! The two of you take a much needed tropical vacation after having your baby girl.

Cw: smut smut smut, Dom!eddie x sub!Reader, established relationship, Age gap, oral ( giving and receiving), anal play (receiving), fingering(receiving), cum eating, creampies, slight breeding kink, use of mommy+daddy+sir, spanking, 2.3k words

“Hey, Mommy.” Eddie slinks his hands around your waist, pulling you in from behind. He has that tone in his voice when he wants something, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Yes, my darling?” you take the bait.

“We are finally alone” he kisses the side of your neck.

“Yes,” you can’t help but sigh.

It’s been 6 months since you gave birth to little Lila-Rose, and you miss her dearly, even if you and Eddie have been away less than 12 hrs.

This babymoon trip is long overdue. The white sandy beach, the turquoise ocean, and the cocktails were all screaming your name.

“You know what that means?” He continues to kiss your neck as his hands start trailing under your shirt to feel your skin.

“We have been here all of 5 minutes.” You can’t help but giggle. You want him just as badly but you cannot help but tease your fiancé.

“You’re just lucky we didn’t have enough time in the jet for me to be all over you, Angel.”

“Oh is that what I am? Lucky?” You turn in his arms, wrapping yours behind his neck.

“I’d say extremely,” he tucks a piece of loose hair behind your ear before he leans in to kiss you.

You and Eddie are standing in the living room, making out like a couple of teenagers when Eddie’s grip tightens and pulls you in, encouraging you up to wrap your legs around his waist. His strong hands grip the meat of your ass. His hands slink under the rough fabric of your cut-off jean shorts as he walks you to the couch before he changes his mind.

“What’s wrong with the couch?”

“You deserve better”

“Oh is that right? Nothing to do with your old man body?” You giggle and he slaps your ass.

“Oh, you wanna play Princess? Is that it?”

“Yes, Sir” you bite your lip.

It has been so long since you were able to have loud and rough sex with Eddie.

You always were worried about the baby and Violet Rose hearing you and you didn’t want another incident. So very quiet sex was had until Eddie got the contractors in to soundproof the bedroom.

Eddie can’t help but moan and speed walks you to the perfectly made California King that was staged in the centre of the room overlooking the ocean.

You’re thrown on the bed and you can’t help but giggle. You watch Eddie strip his t-shirt, the little blacked out angel wings over his heart catch your eye every time he’s shirtless.

“Like what you see?” He smirks.

“You know I do” You pull him down onto you, the weight of his body delicately balanced above, but you wanted more. You want to feel him, all of him, on top of you.

“You’re wearing too many clothes” Eddie was ready to rip the fabric but then he would lose his favourite pair of shorts.

After what seemed like forever the both of you were finally naked on the bed. Eddie was trailing kisses as he made his way down your body when your phone started ringing.

You both stop and look at one another.

“Don’t answer it” Eddie pleads.

“What if it’s the girls?” You ask.

“Didn’t you tell them we got here safe and sound?” He asks.

“No, I didn’t have enough time, I was being seduced.” You raise a brow

“Fine “ Eddie drops his head on your lower stomachs in defeat.

“Hello?”

“Oh good you guys are alive.” Violet sighs.

“Yes baby, we just got here! Ran into some traffic.” You fib.

Eddie can’t help himself but start to kiss your stomach.

“Everything okay?” You flick your fiancée in the head.

“Ouch!”

“We are okay, is dad okay?” She giggles.

“Oh yeah he’s fine, you know how the elderly are” you smirk knowing you’re about to get punished.

“Okay, I’ll let you two lovebirds go. Stay safe, don’t get pregnant.” She giggles.

“Your dad says hello and he loves you. Call if you need anything okay?” You rush out.

“Okay, love you” you hand up and throw your phone across the bed.

“Elderly, huh? I’ll show you ‘elderly’”

Eddie flips you around as if you were made of feathers.

“Baby, no! I was just teasing!” you giggle.

“Your ass is mine” he growls and a rush of arousal washes over you.

“I’m sorry!” You plead.

“No, sweetheart, you wanted to play, we are playing.” Eddie's palm came down on your ass and it let a sharp slap fill the room.

“Hips up.” You whine but obey.

Eddie’s hands come down, interchanging between each cheek, over and over again until they were almost raw. Slap after slap your pussy swells as you can’t help but get wet for Eddie. He can see how aroused you are. Your clit is so puffy and pussy lips are so swollen, begging to be touched.

“Please touch me” you beg. The need for him was too much, now he was just being mean.

You squirm in his grip but he holds you down as each hand is placed on each cheek, spreading you out for him.

Your sensitive skink feels a single finger trail closer and closer to your centre. A sigh of relief relaxes your shoulders just a bit before you tense again as that finger collects your slick.

Eddie doesn’t say a word when he begins tracing your puckered hole with a slick-coated finger.

“Do you think you deserve it?” He mocks. Teasing your hole, over and over. Not daring to break the barrier.

“Yes, Sir, I’ve been a good girl” you cry, pushing your hips up further to get him to give in.

“I don’t know about that little one.” You feel him tease your hole a little bit more, pushing you to the breaking point. Only the tip pulses in and out of you.

“Please, I want you to fill me” you cry.

Eddie lives for when you get like this for him. It’s been a while since the two of you have play. He won’t give in so easily, the two have you just begun.

“Your wish is my command, Princess”

You perk up and Eddie is standing at the side of the bed. He guides you so that you are face level to his cock.

You smirk knowingly. Two can play at this game.

Slowly, you lick the tip of his leaking head, letting him see how your tongue coats his velvety skin. You continue the small kitten licks then start to kiss down the shaft, licking and kissing his cock, never putting it fully in your mouth.”

“I thought you wanted me in you” he huffs annoyed he’s not getting what he wanted.

“Can’t a woman worship her man?” You finally let his cock slide in.

“Shit” he grips the top of your head, pulling the hair taut. You hum in approval as you work his shaft.

His pubic hair tickles your nose but you pay no mind. You love having Eddie in your mouth, the way he tastes, the way he smells, the way he fits perfectly down your throat, it’s like he was made for you.

Your hands trail up your bare breasts playing with your nipples while your mouth encased his solid cock. The sight before Eddie was getting him so worked up-no longer could he not be in you.

“Need you, god I need you right now”

You slowly release him from your mouth, and a string of spit connects your mouth to his cock before Eddie lifts your chin

“Open”

You stick your tongue and Eddie leans down to lick to pool of saliva off of your tongue before he sloppily kisses you. Tongues dance as he crawls over you.

“Need you’s” and “take me’s” are mumbled as the both of you get tangled between the sheets.

Eddie slides himself into you effortlessly as you lay on your back. His hand hitch’s your knee high and tight to your chest. His hips slowly rock into you, teasing you just how he knows you like until you’re begging him to fuck you hard.

“More” you tuck a piece of fallen hair behind Eddie’s ear. Your hand stays on the side of his head as you play him lower to kiss you.

“Louder, I want to hear you” his hips snap and you moan out.

“That’s more like it”

“Baby” your breath hitched.

“I’m right here, baby”

“Fuck!” Your body arches as he hits your sweet spot.

So cock drunken, your mind goes fuzzy. The only thing that consumes you is how amazing Eddie feels inside of you. How much you love and adore him. How much you missed this version of him.

Yes, you love all parts of him, especially when he is in dad mode, but you both needed this trip. You both needed to let loose and be together.

“Pussy so good, she keeps sucking me in” Eddie watches where the two of you connect and you take advantage of the angle to kiss his chest, then up to his neck. Sucking the thin skin, softly breaking the blood vessels beneath, marking him, claiming him as yours.

“Shit baby” he moans.

“Eddie!” You cry out. Your body is on fire, you can’t hold it any longer. “Please, I need to cum!” Your grip on him tightens.

“Cum” he commands, and you can’t help but listen when he uses that voice.

Your core tightens one last time before your released yourself onto Eddie’s cock.

He pulls out unexpectedly and you start to ask him where he is going when you feel his mouth on your pussy.

Eddie needed to taste how he made you feel. He misses the taste on his tongue.

As Eddie sloppily makes out with your pussy, you can’t help but grind into his face. His nose is at the perfect angle to run your clit on.

You hear him moaning as you use his face.

“That’s it, baby, we aren’t done yet. Give me another one,” he spreads your legs wider with one hand and circles your clit with the other.

“More, please more” You're so close.

“My greedy girl,” Eddie smirks. He knows exactly what you’re asking for.

He lets the hand that is circling your clit sink lower coating it once again in your wet pussy. He keeps going until he’s reached your puckered hole.

You feel Eddie’s mouth on your pussy once more when shortly after his finger starts to play with your hole.

“Oh, Eddie!” You cry as his thick fingers sink themselves into you. The pleasurable pressure that fills your lower half is sending you to another dimension. Your head is so high up in the clouds, that you don’t realize the noise you’re making for Eddie.

“That’s it, baby, sing for me” he slaps your clit and it sends your body jerking into your second orgasm of the evening.

“Oh yes, goooood girl.” Eddie praises as he watches the euphoria, he granted you, wash all over your naked body.

He let you come down as he peppered kisses all over your body, he worked his way up until he got to your breast and stayed there while he slip his cock back into you.

“So full” you sigh.

“You like how my big cock stretches your tight pussy, mama?”

“Yes, Daddy. ‘Make me feel so good.” You cry. You’re overwhelmed by the continuous pleasure that runs through you.

Pump after pump of his cock grazing that spot deep within your pussy walls has orgasm number three building up faster and faster. Long gone were nights of multiple orgasms. You and Eddie were lucky to get one in a week, with your new baby scheduled and all. Your body is deprived for months of bonding with your financé properly, how you want him inside of you at all times. The need and hunger for him have only increased since having his baby. Seeing him with her only makes you want to fuck him more, to commit to him, to marry him.

“Fuck, baby, pussy so good. I’m so close.”

“Yes cum, I want it so bad”

“You want me to fill you up, make another baby?”

“Yes, Daddy, please”

Your hips rock into one another, and your bodies mould into one. He kissed you with so much love behind it. Even if you were fucking, and not making love, he always kissed you like this right before he cums.

Not being able to hold out any longer you release at the same time. Your orgasms take over your physical being before you are both brought down to earth.

A breathy chuckle leaves Eddie as he realizes the sex you were just able to have and are going to have these next ten days in this sandy beach paradise.

“Wow,” you sigh. Your pussy filled with Eddie’s seed. You start to lazily make out with Eddie, exhaustion washes over you but you want him still.

“Not too bad for an old man… Can’t get enough, huh, mama?”

“No” you smile. “Let’s get married”

“Baby, did I fuck you too hard? There is a rock on your finger that already signifies I asked you that already”

You slap his bare ass. “I know that smart ass” you laugh. “I mean let’s start planning, I want to be yours. Officially” you kiss him again. Eddie can’t help but smile. The novelty of you saying those words never will get old.

“Whatever you want princess. I’ll marry you right here right now”

“We can’t do that to the kids”

“You’re right, I need our babies by our side.”

“And Wayne, and my parents” you poke his chest.

“Yes, yes, of course.” he kisses you again to shut you up.

“You trying to go for round two old man?” You giggle.

“You're really asking for it aren't you, Angel?”

“Mmmmmm, maybe” you pinch his tattooed butt cheek.

Safe to say you’re not leaving this room until the early hours of the morning.

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[bitchlessdino]

the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) Teaser

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut, fluff, slight angst Teaser word count: 1.2k rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now.

The crowd of Seungcheol’s colleagues all started harmoniously greeting you, their eyes lighting up and genuine smiles forming for the first time since encountering their superior outside the office. You were quick to entertain them, never leaving Seungcheol’s side as his arm essentially became a leash, lugging the thirty-year-old man around like a purse dog, and being at the receiving end, he was too stunned to object.

“Hi, you must work with this guy right here,” you grinned, nudging into Seungcheol with the crown of your head.

“How do you know Mr. Choi, Miss…” Jihoon began to ask, curiosity radiating off of him as much as it did everyone else.

“Well,” you took Seungcheol’s hand out of his pocket, interlocking your fingers together, earning a bigger reaction than a simple thousand-yard stare from the office manager. “I’m Seungcheol’s girlfriend.”

Everyone involved in the conversation stared at you as if you had grown a second head and Seungcheol looked at you as if you had grown a third.

[…] It’s when he realized for once in his life he feared someone, and it was this smiley little creature that lied through their teeth as easily as they breathed.

“Okay looks like it's all good. Looks like we can finally be in business. What will be our first move, considering you are the first to have proposed the idea?”

“Yes, well, that will be the office party the company is hosting. Usually, everyone is required to attend, and I've skipped many events like it–”

“And you want me to come with you to make you look good for your team?”

“No, I want to make you an excuse so I don’t have to go.”

You furrowed your brows. “That’s counterproductive. Literally the opposite of what I’m here for.”

“But neither of us would have to go.”

Your fingers curled up into your palms, forming halfhearted fists before you unfurled them, trying to cherry-pick the right words to get through this tinman’s head. “You have to realize that simply having a girlfriend is not enough for people to like you. It’s about talking you up, showing off your redeeming qualities. Getting people to understand Seungcheol the person, not Seungcheol the boss.”

“Are you proposing I have no redeeming qualities?”

“You were trying to use me as an excuse to avoid going to a company party. What were you going to do with that time on your own?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“This is exactly why you need my help, Cheol,” you reminded, feeling like you’re lecturing a cat about not scratching up the couch.

He gave a light grimace, “You don’t need to call me that childish abbreviation. I have a whole name.”

You leaned over from your seat, staring over at him wide eyes, fluttering your lashes and feigning a lovestruck grin. “I need to give you a nickname if we’re dating. What about Babe? Baby? Honey? Lover?”

“Seungcheol is just fine,” he answered, unaffected, not bothering to look past his laptop.

Your smile dropped in an exaggerated scowl as you pulled yourself back down, crossing your arms. “How have your other girlfriends dealt with you?”

Seungcheol suddenly had nothing else to say, his eyes started darting everywhere but you, leaning back against the booth and preoccupying his mouth with his scalding hot vanilla latte.

Your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously as the silence persisted and the click-clacking of his keyboard, “Seungcheol, you have dated before, right?”

His eyes flitted back to you like a flickering flame before it went out, directing themselves back to his laptop, typing away at something at a more urgent pace, or looking as if he did.

“Oh my god. You haven’t.”

“Silence,” he finally said.

“You…You haven’t been on a date with anyone? With a woman? Or even a man?”

He rolled his eyes, groaning under his breath. “Don’t make a scene.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured, “of course, I'm just very surprised…and confused. For 30 years of your life?”

“It was never something I prioritized.”

“Middle school. High school. College,” you began listing off.

“I went to an all boys school, and college does not leave much time for dating when you’re getting your Bachelor’s and Master’s.”

You waved your hands bizarrely. “So what? You worked your entire life?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmm.”

“What?”

Curiosity killed the cat, so the cat never came to know Seungcheol and apparently he never came to know the cat. “So if you’ve never been on a date, your intimate life…?”

He raised his brow, and sighed, realizing he was doing that a lot today. He closed his laptop, placing his hands neatly in his lap. “That goes without saying, but yes. I haven’t been intimate with anyone.”

“Right,” you responded, processing the information in real time.

“Are we done here? Is this game of 101 questions over with?”

“Just one more.”

“What?”

“What are you so big for then?”

“They’re watching…” He sang, eyes glazing over off in the distance.

You slightly turned your head to watch his view, seeing a few of your friends off in the distance, coming from the beach or slightly in view from the poolside, that could easily catch you in whatever act you and Seungcheol looked like you were up to. However, at this point, everyone seemed to be in their own world, talking, laughing, minding their own businesses. You weren’t sure if it mattered.

You snickered, resting your hands on his shoulders and readjusting your knees as they dug into the seat cushions. “You’re gonna go this far?”

“Yep. I have to look like a good boyfriend.”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “You had a lot to drink, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know?” He mumbled dumbly, his dimple indented extra deep.

You shook your head in disbelief, dipping your head forward and momentarily colliding with his in a headbutt. You reacted as expected, rubbing your forehead at the slight ache you caused, but from the lack of tact of the receiver, your assumptions were true. “You're so drunk right now.”

His hand rose to your hair, patting it down before finding your ear. As he thumbed over the curve of the helix, he could feel the heat bloom between his fingers. “You look so pretty right now.”

“Cheol,” you tried getting up, but he sat you back down, gripping you by your hips until they met his.

“Stay,” he quietly pleaded, his eyes glistening under the moonlight staring back at you with utter need that you have no choice but just melt right back in his touch.

You couldn’t believe the situation happening right now, and neither could your heart in your chest as it started beating at twice its usual rate. All you could focus on was his hands as they traveled up your body, skimming through the thin fabric of your shirt, following up your spine as he let out soft, ragged breaths.

You pressed the pads of your fingers a little deeper into the meat of his shoulders, “S-Seungcheol–”

“Do you know what will really convince them?” His voice is unrecognizable, deep and indulgent.

You made the ghost of a whimper as a finger travelled back down your body as you responded earnestly. “I don’t think we have to do much more convincing. I think they believe us when we say we’re a couple.”

“But you know what will really convince them though?”

You were scared to even ask, thinking a single word would burst this bubble you have no idea how you got caught in. “What?” you asked softly.

[mangionebabymama]

“ordinary things” - Luigi Mangione

“No matter what we do, there’s never gonna be an ordinary thing” - “ordinary things” by Ariana Grande

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None, fluff and, surprisingly, Luigi drinks coffee here and listens and doesn’t judge

A/N: Inspired by this ask. I already considered writing something based off this song, but it gave me the sign of confirmation. Anon, ily for reading my mind and matching my yearning, this is for you 🤎

The soft morning light streamed gently through the sheer curtains, enveloping the snug apartment in a warm, golden hue that danced across the walls. You luxuriated beneath the soft cotton sheets, savoring the still surroundings of the room. Next to you, Luigi lay in peaceful slumber, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The warmth emanating from his body against your skin fostered a sense of closeness that rendered the outside world distant and unimportant. A gentle smile spread across your face as you absorbed the serene moment—sunlight sparkling on the small potted plant by the window and the faint, lingering chirps of birds singing outside. In that treasured instant, you recognized this as the truest form of happiness—a quiet, shared morning that felt like a cherished secret between the two of you.

“You’re up early,” Luigi's voice, filled with sleepiness, came out as a soft whisper. He nestled against your neck; his breath warmed your skin.

“Mmm,” you hummed, turning to face him. His brown eyes, though half-lidded, sparkled with a softness that made your heart flutter. “I just couldn’t sleep anymore… too much on my mind.”

He raised an eyebrow, a casual smile playing on his lips. “Like what?”

You paused for a moment, recalling memories of your grandmother as they drifted through your thoughts. “Just… the little things my grandma used to share about love and life. They just came to my memory, out of nowhere, and I haven't stopped thinking about them. She always used to tell me, ‘True love isn’t about the grand gestures. It’s in the ordinary moments, the ones you’ll miss when they’re gone.’”

Luigi’s smile grew even brighter as he propped himself up on one elbow, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face with his free hand. “Sounds like a wise woman.”

“She was,” you articulated, experiencing a bittersweet ache that gripped your heart. “She’d tell me stories about my grandpa, how he used to make her laugh by dancing around the kitchen in his socks. Or how he’d wake up early just to make her coffee before she left for work. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it meant everything to her.”

Luigi’s fingers made gentle circles on your arm, his touch causing a shiver to run down your spine. “So, what are you saying? I need to start dancing in my socks?”

You playfully swatted his chest, sharing a delightful laugh together. “No, dummy. I’m just saying… I love this. Us. The little things. Like how you always leave your shoes by the door or make me tea when I’m stressed. It’s… enough. More than enough.”

His face melted into love as he drew closer, his lips softly grazing against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss that conveyed a world of tenderness.“You’re incredible, you know that?”

You could feel a warm flush spreading to your cheeks as you nestled your face into his chest, seeking comfort from the shyness that made you blush. “Stop.”

Luigi chuckled, the sound resonating through his chest and into you. “I mean it. You’re not like other people. You don’t care about the big, flashy stuff. Not only that, but you see the beauty in the ordinary. And… I love that about you.”

You raised your head to look at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I love you,” you said.

“And I love you,” he said, his voice brimming with sincerity that took your breath away, a true reflection of the depth of his feelings.

You found yourself remaining in that position for quite a while, your bodies beautifully tangled together while your breaths naturally synced in the wake of the morning. It was precisely these types of moments that you treasured the most—the pure simplicity of it all. His hand fit snugly in yours, his laughter filled the surrounding space, and how he admired you made you feel like you were the only person who mattered in the entire world.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go for a walk. Just the two of us. No phones, no distractions. Just… us.”

You smiled, warmth blossoming within your chest. “I’d like that.”

You hurriedly dressed in your comfy clothes, slipping out the door with a sense of excitement. The morning air was refreshingly cool and crisp, and the streets were peacefully quiet and unbothered, remaining in solitude with the world just starting to wake up. Luigi gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as you walked together.

“So,” He eventually remarked, stealing a glance your way with a playful grin. “What’s your favorite ordinary thing about us?”

You thought for a moment, your heart swelling in feeling. “Hmm… I think it’s the way you always know when I need you. Like, when I’m upset, you don’t even have to ask. You… show up. And it’s like everything’s okay again.”

Luigi’s grin softened as he squeezed your hand. “That’s not ordinary. That’s just me loving you.”

Your cheeks reddened, and you looked fixedly at your clasped hands, your heart racing in your chest. “See? That’s what I mean. You always know just what to say.”

He paused in his steps, turning to look at you. His eyes held a deep intensity, and the seriousness in his expression made your heart skip a beat. “I mean it, you know. I’d do anything for you. And it’s not because I have to. It’s because I want to. Because you’re… everything to me.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you gently cupped his face in your hands. “You’re everything to me, too, Lu. More than you’ll ever know.”

As he leaned in, his lips brushed against yours in a sweet and passionate kiss. It was the kind of kiss that left you feeling weak in the knees, making you forget everything else around you. When he finally pulled away, you found yourself breathless, your heart buzzing with excitement.

“I think,” you spoke gently, your voice trembling, “that this is my favorite ordinary thing about us.”

Luigi smiled, his eyes sparkling with affection. “Mine too.”

You kept walking, hands still interlocked, feeling your hearts beating in perfect harmony. While meandering through the quiet streets, thoughts of your grandmother filled your mind once more. Her words echoed in your mind, reminding you of the beauty in the ordinary.

It’s in the ordinary moments that you’ll miss when they’re gone.

As you looked at Luigi, the man who brought you so much happiness, it occurred to you that she was right. Love isn’t discovered through grand gestures or lavish displays; instead, it lives in the little moments. The way he held your hand, looked into your eyes, and made you feel like the most significant person in the world.

This, right here, is one of those ordinary moments.

Turning the corner, you spotted a small café, its windows radiating a warm glow that beautifully contrasted with the chilly morning air. The gentle flicker of candlelight within hinted at a cozy ambiance, while the enticing scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods drifted out through the open door, beckoning you to enter and enjoy the atmosphere. Luigi spotted it, too, and flashed you a grin. "How about we grab a coffee together?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of endearment. “I’d love that.”

As you entered the café, the soft chime of the bell above the door welcomed you. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as the barista acknowledged your arrival warmly.

“What’ll it be?” Luigi asked, turning to you.

“A cappuccino,” you said, returning his smile. “And… you.”

His smile grew even bigger as he leaned in closer, his lips gently brushing against yours in a sweet, quick kiss. “Coming right up.”

While waiting for your coffee, you reflected on how fortunate you were and expressed gratitude for this life and this love. Though not perfect, they belonged to you. In those everyday moments, you discovered, for once and for all, what truly meaningful happiness was and what it meant.

As your coffee was freshly brewed, you settled at a cozy table by the window, where the warm morning sunlight poured in, brightening up the space. Luigi gently reached over, his hand resting on yours, creating a feeling of comfort as you both enjoyed your coffee together in silence.

“You know,” he said, his voice soft after a while, “I hope we can have a love like your grandparents did. I want to experience something like that with you.”

You felt your heart swell, brushing your thumb over his cheek, just over where one of his angelic moles rested. “I want a love like that, too.”

You realized this was it as you sat there with your hands intertwined and your hearts beating in sync. This was the kind of love your grandmother had always talked about—the kind of love found in ordinary moments, the ones that would stay with you forever. And, at that exact instant, as you gazed at Luigi, the man who had so completely stolen your heart, you realized that you had discovered your true contentment. In the simple moments, in the quiet mornings, in the warmth of his touch, you had found your forever.

“I love you,” you uttered softly, your voice nearly lost in the air.

Luigi smiled, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. “I love you.”

As sunlight streamed through the window and the world outside stirred to life, you realized you had all you needed. In the mundane, you discovered the remarkable. In the ordinary, you found the extraordinary.

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART THIRTEEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: in a weird turn of events, sae-byeok tries to comfort those around her.

wc. 2.1k

warnings: angst followed by comfort

(nowhere girl masterlist)

Sae-byeok feels delirious. After everyone in the apartment fell asleep, only she remained awake trying to recollect the memories the events that occurred from only a couple hours ago. But they came in fragments. She mostly recalls seeing red when you and her went to Daejeon. She is aware how rigid her words can shift when she is angry or stressed and she regrets yelling at you. This is something she can’t find the pride to admit but, you’re the reason Ji-yeong was found. Not her.

She is losing her way of life. Her currently lifestyle is making her go soft and she’s still nowhere near her monetary goal to rescue her mom. And because Ji-yeong hasn’t been at work for three days now, it’s up to her to cough up a little extra money on the streets in order to pay rent next week. The money you gave her ran out, so instead of going to sleep she waits until everyone else is, throws on her jacket and heads out the door.

This time Sae-byeok made sure to pickpocket out of town.

By the time she arrives back to her apartment it was already the afternoon meaning she spent her entire morning pickpocketing. Her foot is aching and the only thing she had for lunch was a bulgogi onigiri she bought at the convenience store. She was ready to collapse in bed but she had responsibilities to take care of.

The lights in the apartment where still shut off and all the curtains are shut with little light escaping though them. You were long gone by the time she arrived back with her clothes and blanket neatly folded on the couch. You sent her a message when you departed at seven in the morning so she asked that you let her know when you made it home safe. But have yet to reply, it’s starting to concern her now.

Cheol was also sound asleep on his side of the bed, to her surprise. He also tends to wake up early like Sae-byeok, but perhaps he didn’t get a restful sleep last night because she wasn’t here.

She quietly counts the crumpled up balls of money and coins she was able to collect and stuffed majority of the money inside her drawer.

Her next stop is Ji-yeong’s room.

“How long have you been awake?” Sae-byeok asks after Ji-yeong unlocked her bedroom door and let her in. Her roommate jumps back into bed as she sits on the edge.

“I think like three hours ago but I lost track.” she mumbles, her tone more melancholic than usual.

She notices how puffy and lifeless her eyes are, clearly she was crying all night. Sae-byeok sighs, she wishes she could know the words to use to make Ji-yeong feel better. But maybe words aren’t enough in her case.

“So, what happened with your dad?” she asks cautiously and observes her facial expression to check if there’s a flicker of change in them.

Ji-yeong lets out an exasperated sigh and struggles to speak momentarily. “At first, he refused to see me so I had to wait for an hour until he finally changed his mind. Then he kept apologizing and apologizing and was like ‘I ask God for forgiveness everyday’ but when I told him it was all bullshit he went…I saw the dark look in his eyes again.” she looks at Sae-byeok in the eyes. “It was the same look he had when he killed mom. I had chills up my spine seeing him like that I seriously thought I was next.”

Sae-byeok felt a pang in her chest. A part of her feels like she pushed Ji-yeong into this mess.

“What’s with that look?” Ji-yeong asks. She doesn’t respond. “Don’t feel bad for telling me to visit him. I actually feel better—less guilty about his current state. I still need time I think.”

“Time to think?”

“Yeah, to process everything. But unfortunately, I only have today to do that because I picked up a twelve hour shift at work to make up for the days I missed.”

“Is that your way of telling me to get out of your room?”

Ji-yeong reaches to pat her back. “Look at you being emotionally intelligent!”

With a roll of her eyes she gets off the mattress and towards the door.

“Wait before you go,” Ji-yeong speaks up. “have you seen ‘her’ yet?” she wriggles her eyebrows when Sae-byeok turns around.

“What’s with that face and why did you say her like that?” Sae-byeok scoffs, feeling defensive suddenly.

“I take back my emotionally intelligent comment then.” she grumbles, shaking her head. “I saw her get ready this morning so I was wondering if you dropped her off or something.”

“No, I didn’t drop her off. I left before any of you woke up.” Sae-byeok says flatly and takes a hold of the door knob. She doesn’t like where this conversation is taking.

“She seemed off though.” she points out when Sae-byeok opens the door.

“Did she? Didn’t notice.”

When Sae-byeok is fully out the door it didn’t prevent her from hearing Ji-yeong say, “I can see right through you, Kang Sae-byeok!”

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Later in the day, once Cheol woke up and had lunch, Sae-byeok casually mentioned the idea of seeing you. This elated the boy, who asked if it was possible to drop by your place as early as today. And because you haven’t been replying to Sae-byeok’s text, she agreed.

So, this lead the Kang siblings to stand outside your apartment door.

When you open it, Sae-byeok did notice you seem off. Your eyes were slightly swollen and tired almost like Ji-yeong’s crying ones. Maybe she came at a bad time—or bad day.

“Hi. Did something happen?” you softly, adverting your gaze down to Cheol.

“Cheol, wanted to see you.” she says plainly. “And you weren’t replying to my texts.”

“Hi, Noona.” Cheol greets you bashfully.

Sae-byeok can readily tell that you were forcing your face muscles to smile at Cheol. You bend down your knees to meet at his level.“Hey! I’m glad you wanted to stop by to see me I have some things for you.”

“Seriously?” he blinks.

You nod and tell them to enter the apartment before rushing up the stairs. Minutes later, you come back with a wooden crate full of supplies and plop it down in front of the boy.

Cheol sends you a skeptical glance. You encourage him to look inside the basket. There were full marker sets, graphite pencils of different grades, paint brushes with dried up paint, acrylic paint, and small empty canvases. Maybe there was more in the basket he missed.

“Is this all for me?” he mutters in disbelief.

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Noona.” he says, contemplating whether to reach over to embrace you but held back the urge in fear. You could sense his hesitation so you outstretch your arms and engulf him in a hug.

When you still embrace him, you look up at Sae-byeok, a flicker of sadness was in your eyes. She’s sure of it. She has a hard time grasping your kindness and selflessness during rough times like this. Your gesture made her chest get this achy feeling again.

After the hug, you encourage him to practice on your old sketchpad that had only two of your past drawings on them from high school.

Once he gets busy unloading everything you got him on the floor, you pull Sae-byeok aside. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply that is a bad move on my end knowing what we went through last night. But I also have something for you and Ji-yeong too by the way.”

“What?”

Before she could process it, you usher her up the stairs to your small bed space. Due to the space being so small she had to duck her head and sit on the mattress, watching you rummage through your piles of knickknacks you haven’t yet organized.

You plop down next to her. Right next to her. Sae-byeok wasn’t used to feeling someone’s leg brush up right against hers. You uncurl your fingers to reveal a black woven rope bracelet on your palm and reach your hand out to her.

Sae-byeok bites the inside of her cheek. She doesn’t know if she can handle so much of your tender hearted acts when she doesn’t think she deserves even an ounce of it. However, it would be cruel to turn down this gesture so she reaches to take it.

“And can you give this to, Ji-yeong?” you ask and pull out a thin necklace with a small firefly pendant. Sae-byeok sighs, but nods and takes that too.

“Thank you.” Sae-byeok says, lowly.

“I just got one favor to ask.” you say with rapid fire speed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Can I paint you for my last project?”

Sae-byeok whips her head to look at you. She forgot the lack of personal space there was in between you two. “What?”

“Can…I paint you—“

“I heard you. But why me?” she asks, frowning.

“You have a unique face.” you answer simply but her face morphs into bewilderment.

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes are sharp and cool but your face shape is soft and delicate. You have great features for a standout portrait.” you explain with ease. Sae-byeok’s lip part slightly. No one ever talks about her looks, especially not so carefully thought out. “It’s the type of unique face that’s almost—hm…mythical.”

She scoffs at the sheer disbelief she’s feeling. “You’re just bluffing.”

“There’s no reason for me to do that. I had other people as options but you stood out the most.” you say, genuinely. “So, do I have permission?”

Sae-byeok blinks at you. The idea of you having to stare at her face and think about her features for hours is an unfathomable thought. But you appear to be dead set on this decision, you didn’t laugh or mock her to convince her.

“Okay.”

She stares down at the bracelet and fiddles with it, her eyes soften up.

Sae-byeok has a hard time understanding that there is beauty in this world. Growing up in the North only taught her how to fear, and once her managed to flee South she had to became a shell of a person. Cheol, for a long time, was her only light in this new isolated world. She remembers briefly being like her little brother when she was his age, timid and quiet but showed her love. But as the people in her life either died or failed to escape the North, she forgot what it was like to feel and give love.

She never had time to figure out who she was as a person. To her, it was a waste of time. It was better to guard herself from the outside world that was so cruel and unusual.

“Ji-yeong said you looked off this morning.” Sae-byeok says out of the blue, feeling courageous to let her guard down ever so slightly.

“Oh.” is all you said to her surprise.

With another pang of courage hitting her system, she tilts her head to look at you.

You’ve proved Sae-byeok wrong time and time again. She used to be so sure you weren’t this selfless person you presented yourself to be when you came to live in their apartment back in March. But she’s ashamed to admit that she was wrong about your character. Very wrong.

“You did a lot for me last night. I won’t forget it.” she says after more and more momentary silence.

“It’s not—“

“Quit being so selfless for once.” she says in annoyance. She straightens up her posture and exhales trying to gather her words. “Can—Can you look at me?”

Hesitantly, you do as she says. Your face screams of worry and fear.

“What’s wrong?” Sae-byeok barely manages to say while looking into your eyes. “Tell me.”

She feels vulnerable under your tender gaze, noticing that you were studying her facial features carefully. It takes everything in her not to break away.

“I feel sad.” you say, shakily. “I still can’t believe my parents let me go so easily...” your chest visibly heaving. Before your lips start trembling you glance away.

Sae-byeok gulps. Before her brain could start figuring out what to do next she hears Cheol’s footsteps. You both instinctively scoot farther away from each other and compose yourselves.

“Is everything okay?” you ask the boy when he appears from the top of the stairs. Sae-byeok heard the glumness you tried terribly to mask.

“I don’t know how to work this, Noona.” he pouts, holding out a set of watercolor paint.

“Here, I will show you.” you say and hurry to get off of your bed to lead Cheol back downstairs. “This is watercolor paint. It’s dried up right now because you need to activate it with water.”

When Sae-byeok knows you’ve made your way to the kitchen she lets out a set of groans and palms her face. She doesn’t know why she is so bad at this. Comforting—a complete mystery to her.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts

[pickingupmymercedes]

Your future was Ferrari - 1 / ?

Chapters - 1 / 2

Reupload

summary: She was finally making her dreams come true, but as the old saying goes "when it rains, it pours" and maybe the nudge Charles gave her might get her somewhere she would never find on her own.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Ferrari Engineer!Reader!

warnings: alusion to mature content.

wordcount: +3K

a/n: Reuploading this one with some minor changes because I'm actually going to write more chapters

a/n. 2: I'm creating a different and specific taglist for this series, so if you want to be tagged, let me know.

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

MILD CONTENT UNDER, -16 PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

______________________________________________________________

The fireworks over the Yas Marina Circuit lit up the Abu Dhabi night sky like a kaleidoscope of dreams, each burst of color a fleeting reminder of the 2023 Formula 1 season that had just come to a close.

The air was filled with the scent of champagne, burnt rubber, and the saltiness of the Persian Gulf. The circuit transformed into a playground of celebration. Teams packed up their garages, exchanging handshakes, hugs, and promises to do it all over again next year.

But for you, this wasn’t just the end of a season—it was the beginning of something you’d spent your entire life working toward.

You stood at the entrance to one of the end-of-season parties, your fingers nervously smoothing down the wrinkles in your pants for what felt like the hundredth time. The fabric refused to cooperate, as if it, too, was mocking your attempt to look like you belonged.

“I don’t belong in this type of party,” you muttered under your breath, your inner voice dripping with sarcasm.

Oh, sure, Y/n, because a girl who spends her days elbow-deep in engine grease and data logs is totally the life of the party. What’s next? Are you going to start quoting torque specs to the drivers?

This wasn’t just any party. It was the party though. The one where the who’s who of Formula 1 gathered to toast their successes, drown their failures, and, if the rumors were true, make deals that would shape the next season.

And you had your own reason to celebrate. After years of grinding, of sleepless nights and endless sacrifices, you were finally moving to Ferrari.

The red team. The dream team. The team your father had whispered about in bedtime stories when you were just a kid.

It was surreal, and yet, here you were, standing at the edge of it all, feeling like an imposter in your own skin.

The venue was a blur of opulence—crystal chandeliers casting soft light over sleek, modern furniture, the hum of conversation punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter.

The air was alive with the clinking of glasses and the low thrum of music. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face, someone to anchor you in this sea of glamour and fame. And just as the first tendrils of panic began to creep in, you saw him.

Charles. Your former colleague from your Alpha Romeo days. His face lit up when he spotted you, and he waved you over with that easy, confident charm that had always made him so damn likable.

“Y/n!” he called out, his voice cutting through the noise like a beacon. “You made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of nerves raging inside you. He pulled you into a hug, and for a moment, the tension in your shoulders eased.

As the night wore on, Charles became your unofficial tour guide, introducing you to everyone he could find dressed in Ferrari red. The conversations were a mix of technical jargon and casual banter, the kind of small talk that came easily when everyone was riding the end of a season.

But beneath the surface, your mind was racing. This was your world now. These were your people. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still on the outside looking in.

It wasn’t until Charles leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face, that the night took a turn you hadn’t seen coming.

“I dare you to go hit on Lewis,” he said, his tone light but his eyes sparkling with challenge.

You blinked at him, your brain short-circuiting for a moment. “You must be joking” you replied, your voice tinged with disbelief. But Charles’s grin only widened, and you realized he was dead serious.

“Come on” he urged, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’ve had the biggest crush on him since forever. What’s the worst that could happen? He says no? At least you can say you took the chance.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your lips.

Because deep down, a part of you was curious. Lewis Hamilton wasn’t just a seven-time world champion; he was a legend, a god in the world you loved so much.

And yeah, maybe you’d had a crush on him since your late teen years, but that was before you knew better. Before you knew the stories, the rumors, the endless parade of women who had come and gone in his life.

Lewis Hamilton wasn’t the kind of man who settled down. He was the kind of man who left a trail of broken hearts in his wake. And you? You weren’t naive enough to think you’d be any different.

But you were also three drinks in.

“Screw it,” you muttered under your breath, your inner voice chiming in with a sarcastically.

Famous last words, Y/n. Famous last words.

You found Lewis near a bar, his presence commanding even in a room full of stars. He was dressed in a tailored suit that hugged his frame perfectly, his dark eyes scanning the room with an air of quiet confidence.

For a moment, you hesitated, your brain screaming at you to turn around and walk away. But then you remembered Charles’s dare, and the part of you that refused to back down took over.

“Hi” you said, your voice surprisingly steady. “Are you Lewis Hamilton? Because you’ve been driving me crazy.”

Lewis turned to you, his eyebrows lifting in surprise before a slow, amused smile spread across his face. “That was actually a good one,” he said, his voice warm and rich like honey.

“Was it?” you replied, laughing despite yourself. You hadn’t expected him to actually be charmed by your cheesy pickup line, but here he was, looking at you like you were the most interesting person in the room to him.

“That, and you’re really hot” he added, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your stomach flip. His hand brushed against your waist, the touch light and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and stolen glances. Lewis was everything you’d imagined and more—charming, witty, and disarmingly genuine.

But beneath the surface, you couldn’t ignore the voice in your head reminding you that this wasn’t real. Lewis Hamilton didn’t do real. He did fun, fleeting, and forgettable. And you? You were just another one.

And yet, when he leaned in before leaving to another party, his lips brushing against your cheek, as he whispered “Be ready by 14:00 tomorrow. Wear something light” you felt something shift. It was just a kiss, just a moment, but it was enough to make you wonder.

You moved to get your phone so he could put his number but he stopped dead “I don’t do phone number, love. I’ll be sure to pick you tomorrow, your hotel lobby.”

You hesitated for a moment, secrecy a huge red flag for you, but then again, it wasn’t anyone, it was Lewis and he had every reason under the sun to be like that.

When Lewis pulled up to your hotel, the sight of him behind the wheel of a sleek Mercedes, dressed in casual shorts and a t-shirt, was almost enough to make you laugh.

It was so… normal.

And yet, nothing about this situation was normal. You were about to spend the afternoon with him, a man who had been a fixture of your dreams—and your teenage bedroom wall.

The absurdity of it all wasn’t lost on you.

“Hey,” he greeted you with that easy, confident smile as you slid into the passenger seat. “Ready?”

“Still don’t know what ‘this’ is, but let’s do it” you replied, your tone light but your mind racing as you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat when he flashed you that grin.

Lewis chuckled, his eyes glinting as he pulled away from the curb. “I do hope you’re just as courageous as you were last night” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Approaching me the way you did? Bold.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself. “Please. You’ve probably heard that line a hundred times.”

“Maybe” he admitted, glancing at you with a smirk. “But it’s not the line that matters. It’s the person.”

You snorted.

Smooth, Lewis. Real smooth.

As Lewis maneuvered through the streets, he made small talk in an attempt to break the mounting tension. His easygoing demeanor and genuine interest in getting to know you better were both disarming and endearing.

"So, have you ever done anything like this before?" Lewis asked, casting a sideways glance at you.

"Getting into a date I know nothing about, with a dude that could be potently trying to kidnap me?! Nah, this will be my first time" you mused, seeing how his features lightened the more you opened up.

"I thought skydiving would be fun."

A thoughtful pause followed before Lewis blurted out casually, like he was suggesting a trip to the grocery store

Your stomach did a backflip. Skydiving. Of course.

Because why wouldn’t Lewis Hamilton take you skydiving on a date? It was the kind of over-the-top, adrenaline-fueled gesture that screamed “Lewis” and it also happened to be exactly the kind of thing you’d always wanted to try.

“No way” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief. “For real?”

Lewis’s grin widened, and you could see the relief in his eyes. “Glad you’re onboard”

The skydiving center was a hive of noise, the air buzzing with excitement and the occasional burst of nervous laughter.

Lewis led you to the instructor, who walked you through the safety protocols with the kind of ease that only comes from years of experience. As you suited up, your mind raced with a mix of excitement and fear, but when Lewis caught your eye and gave you a reassuring nod, you felt a strange sense of calm wash over you.

Just before the jump, Lewis pulled you aside, his expression serious for the first time since you’d met him. “Are you okay with this?” he asked, his voice firm. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah. I can’t wait.”

As you reached the desired altitude the plane's door opened, revealing the vast expanse of the sky below. The rush of wind and the sheer height were both exhilarating and intimidating.

Locked in tandem with your instructor and Lewis paired with his, you prepared to take the leap.

And then the world around you turned into a blur of colors and sensations. The initial rush was overwhelming, but as you acclimated to the sensation of freefalling, a profound realization began to form in the back of your mind.

Upon landing safely back on solid ground, silence was all you could muster.

The gravity of the experience left you momentarily speechless, lost in thought. Noticing your quiet demeanor, Lewis approached you, his concern evident. "Did you enjoy it?" he asked softly.

"It was... intense. I'm still processing it." You hesitated, trying to find the right words. Lewis nodded, sensing there was more you weren't sharing. "Is everything okay? You seem a bit lost in thought."

At first, you brushed off his concern with a simple, "It's nothing." But Lewis gently pressed on as you got back to the car, his hands reaching for yours encouraging you to open up.

Taking a deep breath, you finally confessed, "The jump made me question how little humankind really was, how vast and boundless the world truly is."

A smile spread across Lewis's face, his features almost successfully hiding the happiness that you had gotten the point he tried to show everyone "It has a way of putting things into perspective, doesn't it?"

The drive back to your hotel was quiet, the tension palpable in the confined space of the car. The city lights began to paint fleeting shadows across Lewis's face as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow.

His tattooed hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his focus split between the road ahead and fleeting glances in your direction.

"Would you like to grab something to eat? I don't want to let you go just yet," Lewis ventured, his voice laced with a subtle reluctance, yet an underlying desire.

Your eyes met his, a playful glint shimmering in your gaze as you assessed the situation. His profile, illuminated by the soft dashboard light, was a stark reminder of his reputation and allure.

"Sure, where to, then?" you replied, your voice light and teasing, yet laced with a hint of challenge.

Lewis chuckled, his lips curling into a knowing smile, the glint in his eyes intensifying. "It’s gonna sound so pretentious, but my hotel has this amazing pasta."

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you leaned back, the audacity of this man. Of course, that's where the evening was headed.

You were just another name on his list, a fleeting encounter in the grand tapestry of his life.

“Are we really going there, Lewis?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. Your mind racing with a thousand reasons why this was a bad idea.

His fingers reached out, brushing against yours that rested on the console between you, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip, a silent acknowledgment of the mutual attraction and intrigue that simmered beneath the surface.

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your lips.

He was a force of nature, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt toward him. Even if you also knew better than to think this would end well.

“Okay” you said finally, your voice tinged with reluctant amusement. “But if this pasta isn’t the best thing I’ve ever tasted, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Lewis’s laugh was like music, and for a moment, you forgot why you were supposed to be keeping your distance.

As he parked the car and led you towards his suite, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. The soft lighting and luxurious rooms added to the intensity of the moment.

Lewis swiped the keycard, and the door clicked open with a soft beep. He stepped aside to let you in, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you crossed the threshold.

The gesture was casual, almost polite, but the heat of his touch burned through the fabric of your shirt.

The suite was exactly what you’d expect from someone like Lewis—luxurious, modern, and impeccably designed. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the Abu Dhabi skyline, the city lights twinkling like stars.

But what caught your attention were the little details that made it undeniably his. A pair of timberland boots tossed carelessly on the floor, a stack of notebooks filled with scribbled notes on the coffee table, a half-empty bottle of water on the counter.

It felt like stepping into his world, and for a moment, you felt like an intruder.

“Make yourself at home,” Lewis said, his voice low and warm as he moved past you to the kitchen. “I’ll order the pasta.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest. 

Great, Y/n. Just great. No big deal. Just the man you’ve had a crush on since you were, what, eighteen? Totally normal.

You wandered over to the couch, your fingers brushing against the notebooks. The leather soft from holding, and you couldn’t help but wonder how many races they’d seen. How many victories. How many moments that had defined his career.

“You’re not subtle, you know” Lewis called from the kitchen, his tone teasing. “I can see you snooping from here.”

You glanced up, your throat getting dry you caught him watching you with an amused smirk. “Not snooping” you protested, your voice a little too high-pitched to be convincing. “I’m just… appreciating these”

Lewis laughed, the sound rich and warm, and you felt your stomach do a little flip. “Uh-huh. Sure, you are.”

He walked over to you, his movements like a predator stalking its prey. You forced yourself to stay still, to meet his gaze head-on, even as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

When he reached you, he plucked the notebook from your hands and tossed them aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re overthinking this” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Just relax, yeah?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your lips when he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture so tender it made your breath catch.

For a moment, you forgot how to think, how to breathe, how to do anything but stare at him.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t like the playful, teasing kisses from earlier or the night before. This was something else entirely—slow, deliberate, and so damn intense it made your knees weak.

His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no. You could feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your mind a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions. 

Well, that just happened.

Lewis’s lips curved into a smirk, his eyes dark with amusement. “Told you to relax.”

You rolled your eyes, but the effect was ruined by the way your hands were still clutching the front of his shirt.

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, and this time, you didn’t hold back. Your hands slid up to reach for the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel—like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

The sound of the doorbell ringing pulled you apart, and you both froze, eyes still closed. For a moment, neither of you moved, and then Lewis groaned, resting his forehead against yours.

“The pasta” he muttered his voice thick with frustration. “Of course.”

You laughed, the sound shaky and breathless. “You ordered it. Should probably answer the door.”

Lewis sighed, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled away. “Don’t go anywhere.”

As he went to answer the door, you took a moment to catch your breath, your mind racing.

Okay, Y/n. Deep breaths. You’ve got this. Just… don’t fall for him.

When Lewis returned, carrying a tray of food, you were sitting on the couch, trying to look calm and collected. He set the tray down on the coffee table and sat beside you, his thigh brushing against yours in a way that made it hard to focus.

“Hungry?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You nodded, but your eyes were on him, not the food. “Starving.”

Lewis chuckled, his gaze darkening as he reached for a fork. He twirled a bite of pasta onto it and held it out to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Open up.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone unapologetic.

You rolled your eyes, but you opened your mouth anyway, letting him feed you the bite of pasta. It was delicious, but you barely tasted it, too focused on the way Lewis was watching you—his gaze intense, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes and back again.

“Good?” he asked, his voice rough.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Amazing.”

Lewis’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, and you felt your stomach do a little flip. Your heart racing and your mind spinning along with it.

And then Lewis set the fork down, his eyes dark with intent. “Want more?”

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Of you. Yes.”

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, captivated by the sincerity and respect in his eyes. Despite the playful banter, daring adventure and certainty you held that you were a hook up, Lewis's concern for your well-being was there and it shocked you for a bit.

With a shy smile, you nodded. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your words also echoing the desire you felt. The tension was palpable as Lewis leaned in, closing the distance between you.

The world around faded as he led you to the bed, his lips meting yours every few seconds. His hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer so you could really feel him.

As you both pulled apart, catching your breath from the intensity of the moment, a playful smirk crossed your lips, a thought crossing your mind.

"Do you have a condom?" you asked, your voice filled with anticipation. Lewis's eyes widened slightly at your forwardness, a hint of surprise flashing across his face before a confident grin replaced it. Without a word, he reached for his pack on his suitcase, pulling out a condom and holding it up for you to see.

"Of course, you'd have packs with you," you mused, your voice dripping with playful mischief and a hint of mistrust.

The allure of the moment, the intensity of the connection, and the thrill of the unexpected encounter had led you both to this point, and you, for sure, wouldn’t turn back now.

His hands found their way to your waist, lifting you effortlessly on the bed. The soft fabric of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of Lewis's embrace, and the intimacy of the moment combined to create a sense desire that was intoxicating.

He was going to be yours, if only for one night. And in that moment, there was nothing more you could wish for.

As the first light of dawn hit the curtains, the sound of running water from the shower echoed in the room. The luxurious suite was bathed in a soft glow, the remnants of past night still lingering in the air.

You stirred from your sleep, the sheets tangled around you, Lewis's scent lingering on every fabric, surface and memory. The night before played in your mind, a mix of passion, connection, and lust that had led to a whirlwind of emotions.

With a sigh, you sat up, the reality of the situation settling in. You knew that this was a fling, a one-night stand. Despite the intensity and allure, you were aware of the nature of what had happened.

Gathering your belongings quietly, ensuring that nothing was left behind, the weight of the morning, filled with the silence and anticipation of how you were about to leave, added to the bittersweet nature of the encounter.

As you slipped out of the room, the sound of the shower continued, the steam and warmth of the bathroom contrasting with the cool, early morning air. The suite was filled with what if’s and wishes, mostly yours, mainly yours.

The thrown-out pieces of clothing a reminder of something you were meant to never see again.

You brushed those feelings aside though, telling yourself that this was for the best. You had to protect your heart, guard against any attachment.

After all, Lewis Hamilton was Lewis Hamilton, a superstar in the world of Formula 1. And you were just an engineer, living out your dream but still feeling out of your league.

Surely, it meant nothing for Lewis and you would probably never see him again.

Your future was at Ferrari, somewhere he would never step foot in.

Or would he?!

______________________________________________________________

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[seoups]

close as strangers - y. itadori

yuji thought everything would be the same when he came back. cw: angst w a bittersweet ending song: close as strangers by 5sos a/n: if i have an opportunity to write angst, i will take it.

"TELLING YOU I HAVENT SEEN YOUR FACE IN AGES. FEELS LIKE WE'RE AS CLOSE AS STRANGERS."

Yuji spent an entire month picturing this moment.

In every spare moment- between training in the basement, laughing with Gojo, and going on missions with Nanami- he thought about you.

He daydreamed about seeing your face again. About wrapping you in one of the tightest hugs he could manage and spinning you around until you laughed and smacked his shoulder as hard as you could, so he’d put you down.

He thought about sitting next to you at lunch and stealing bites from your food, sending you stupid TikTok’s that made you giggle at late hours, walking you back to your dorm room after missions just to talk to you a little longer.

And when he finally saw you standing there with Megumi and Nobara, he thought- Finally.

“Hey! Didja miss me?” He grinned, expecting a dramatic reaction. “You absolute dumbass,” Nobara scoffed, slamming a fist into his shoulder that was a touch too hard to be playful. Megumi let out a sigh of exasperation, “Welcome back.” Yuji laughed, rubbing his arm where Nobara had punched him, and turned to you, “And you? I bet you were devastated without me!” You blinked at him, lips parting, eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, after a second too long, you smiled, “Yeah, I missed you a lot.”

It wasn’t what you said. It was how you said it. Like you were forcing the words out. Like you weren’t sure if they were true.

For the first time since he’d come back from the dead, Yuji felt uneasy.

He told himself things would go back to normal. You just needed time. You were probably still in shock. Afterall, he had died. That was a lot to deal with.

So, he gave you space. He didn’t want to push you further than you were ready. But after a few days of dry texts and halfhearted smiles, he decided enough was enough.

“Let’s go out.” You looked up from your textbook, brows knit together, “What?” “On a date! Y’know. Movies, snacks, maybe the arcade? Classic,” He grinned, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Come on, it’ll be fun! It’s been forever since we hung out. Plus, I heard human earthworm 4 is in theatres.”

You hesitated.

And that hesitation hit him harder than any curse ever could.

“Yuji…” you sighed, closing your book. “I don’t know if-” “Oh, nope- none of that!” He wagged a finger at you. “No excuses! You need a break. I need to make up for lost time. And I want to spend time with you, so… let’s go!”

There was an ounce of desperation in his voice that he hoped you couldn’t hear.

You stared at him for a long moment. Then, finally you agreed.

Relief flooded his chest so fast it made him lightheaded. Maybe things could go back to normal.

They couldn’t.

Yuji had tried everything. Everything he’d done with you before. New things. None of it was working.

He took you to a movie and cracked jokes through the trailers, but you had barely laughed. He won you a stuffed dog from a claw machine but you didn’t tease him for going all out like you normally would.

He filled the silence with endless conversation- jumping from one random topic to the next- but your answers were always short, your laughter never quite reaching your eyes.

It was like trying to hold onto something that was slipping through his fingers.

But Yuji was good at ignoring things. He could push down the sting in his chest and drown it out with more conversation, more jokes, more desperate attempts at being normal. But when he walked you back to your dorm room and reached for your hand, you pulled away.

It wasn’t dramatic. Not like you were disgusted or unhappy with it. Just… instinctively. Like you didn’t even realize you were doing it. Yuji felt his heart shatter.

He didn’t bring it up.

Instead, he tried harder. He called you every night, sent you stupid tiktoks, and went out of his way to be around you.

And at first, you humored him. You answered his calls, texted back, and sat with him at lunch.

But it was different.

And deep down, he knew that too.

He just couldn’t admit it.

Because if he admitted it, then he’d have to face it. And he wasn’t prepared for that.

The night he finally let himself say it out loud, it was raining.

You sat across from him in a tiny ramen shop that Yuji had sworn was amazing, your hands curled around a steaming bowl, looking exhausted. Not just physically- but in the way you held yourself, in the way you looked at him, like this conversation had been waiting to happen for a long time.

Yuji gripped his chopsticks a little too tightly, feeling the developing indent on his fingers, “You’re different.” You exhaled slowly, staring down at your food, “So are you.” His chest tightened, “I don’t want to be.” For the first time that night, you looked him in the eyes, “Neither do I.”

Silence.

The rain pattered against the windows, the hum of ongoing conversations around them buzzing like static.

Finally, Yuji spoke, his voice quieter than usual, “We’re not us anymore, are we?” You swallowed hard, “No, I don’t think we are.”

He should have seen this coming. Maybe he had seen it coming and had just been in denial.

“I really wanted this to work,” his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. You nodded, “Me too.”

Another long pause.

Then, you reached across the table, reading your hand in his, “You’re still my favorite person, Yuji.”

His breath hitched.

Yuji forced a small smile on his face, not allowing this to end on a heavy note, “Yeah?” You smiled, tired but real, “yeah.” He flipped his hand, curling his fingers around yours, “You’re mine too.”

You squeezed his hand, just once. And then, slowly, you let go.

And this time, Yuji let you.

[willowsnook]

an experiment (18+)

hey, could you write a story like the one you reposted of max ”popular“ but for lando? I absolutely loved the plot and never saw one like that before, but don’t feel pressured! thank you<3

A/N: Didn’t want to do the exact same plot but did the same kind of reporter x Lando vibe where they don’t like each other.

Lando Norris x Reporter!Reader

The media room was bustling with reporters, and your eyes were trained on Oscar Piastri as he answered the question you had just asked him, nodding along.

“So you’re not worried about team orders, then?” you asked to confirm, and he shot you a grin.

“We’re only 20 points apart, so no,” he replied, and you smiled, turning off your recorder. “Good to see you, Y/N. When are you coming to an overseas race?”

The other reporters around left as you stayed behind to talk to Oscar. “Not really sure. I’m mostly covering IndyCar this year. I’m only here today because our F1 beat reporter caught some kind of bug.”

You had covered F1 for ESPN last year and had a blast doing it, but the travel was a lot. When the chance came up to switch to IndyCar, you took it, wanting to stay in the U.S., where you were from. You did miss the F1 drivers, though. You had a good working relationship with all of them—well, except one.

You and Lando got off on the wrong foot last year, and things never really recovered. You asked him a simple question, and he bit your head off. Instead of folding, you challenged him and called him an asshole to his face, so things were a little testy after that.

You glanced up from your notes, keeping your expression neutral as Lando approached. “Norris.”

He sighed, barely looking at you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You ignored his tone, pressing the record button. “You had a solid P2 in practice. Do you feel confident heading into qualifying, or are there still issues you need to address?”

Lando shrugged, crossing his arms. “Car’s fine. We’ll see what happens.”

You blinked, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, you pressed on. “McLaren has been closing the gap to Red Bull in recent races. Do you think this track gives you a real opportunity to challenge for the win?”

He exhaled sharply. “You lot love asking the same pointless questions every weekend, don’t you?”

You kept your voice even. “I’m asking because fans and analysts are genuinely curious about McLaren’s trajectory. If you’d rather not answer, I can move on.”

Lando let out a humorless laugh. “Right, because you’re just here for the ‘fans and analysts’—not to pick apart every word I say.”

Your grip on your pen tightened, but you refused to take the bait. “I’m here to report, Norris. What I’m not here to do is argue with you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered.

You inhaled slowly, keeping your professionalism intact. “Alright. Final question—realistically, where do you see yourself finishing this weekend?”

Lando gave you a flat look. “Ahead of where you think I will.”

You held his gaze for a moment before calmly closing your notebook. “Noted. Thanks for your time.”

He scoffed. “Yeah. Sure.”

You watched as he walked off without another word, then sighed, shutting off your recorder. Interviews with Lando Norris were always a test of patience—but at least this time, you hadn’t given him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Y/N!” You heard Carlos call out, and you instantly brightened. He was one of your favorites on the grid, and you truly missed him this season.

“Hi, Carlos,” you said, walking next to him as you were both leaving the pen. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you? Still beefing with Lando, I see,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s such a pain in the ass,” you muttered, and he let out a loud laugh.

“Please, the tension between the two of you—nothing like it,” he said, and you stopped short, giving him an incredulous look.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you asked, and he grinned.

“There are literally three different bets I know of on when you guys will get together,” he said, amused, and your eyes narrowed.

“I don’t even cover F1 races anymore,” you said.

He shrugged, holding the door open for you.

"That doesn't matter," Carlos said with a mischievous grin. "The sparks between you two are undeniable. Even from across the pond."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're delusional, Sainz. There's nothing between Lando and me except mutual disdain."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Then why does he always ask about you when you're not around?"

You froze mid-step, turning to face him. "He... what?"

"Oh, yes," Carlos nodded, clearly enjoying this. "He tries to be subtle about it, but we all notice. 'Has anyone heard from Y/N?' 'Is Y/N covering this race?' It's quite amusing, actually."

You were about to argue when you caught sight of Lando across the paddock, talking to his race engineer. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours, and you felt a simmer of the electricity Carlos was talking about. Lando looked from you to Carlos and frowned, looking away.

“Whatever, Carlos. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, dismissing him as you headed to where your car was, thinking about what he said.

Lando was an asshole to you. That was a fact. But there were things that were off: he always took your questions first, his eyes lingered on you from across the room—almost always—and you could tell how irritated he was anytime you were talking casually with another driver.

Pair that with the fact that your boss had asked if you wanted to be moved last season to cover a different team, to which you replied no because there was just something so exciting about getting under his skin. You always had a thing for guys like him, and it didn’t really help that he was as hot as he was.

You were still irritated as you got back to your apartment and quickly texted your group chat, begging to have a girls' night out. Luckily, most of your friends were free, and one of them snagged a last-minute reservation at a place nearby.

A couple of hours later, you were two drinks in, laughing about one of your friend’s most recent Hinge horror stories. Smiling, your eyes wandered around the room, landing on a very familiar mullet.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you muttered, and your friends looked at you and then over to where you were looking. Grace was the first to laugh.

“You two are truly like magnets. Carlos was right,” she said. You shot her a pointed look. They all knew about your disdain for Lando, and you had told them what Carlos had said, hoping they’d back you up about it being ridiculous, but they had all agreed with him.

At the attention of all your friends, Lando’s friends looked over at the table, some of them smiling widely when they recognized you. It didn’t take long for one of them to come sauntering over.

“Hey, ladies,” he said. “We’re about to wrap up and would love if you guys joined us at the next bar.”

“No,” you said at the same time that your friends said, “Yes.” You groaned, putting your head into your hands.

After paying your bill, you reluctantly followed your friends out and to the next bar. Lando and his friends were hanging out on the patio, and they were excited to see your group make it. Lando smiled at all your friends, introducing himself, but then narrowed his eyes when he got to you. You rolled your eyes, muttering that you needed a drink, and walked off.

You leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender's attention. The night air was cool on your skin, a welcome relief from the stuffy atmosphere inside. You couldn't believe your luck—or lack thereof. Of all the places in the city, Lando and his crew had to end up at the same spot as you and your friends.

"Fancy seeing you here," a familiar voice said behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Lando.

"I could say the same to you," you replied, keeping your eyes on the bartender. "Shouldn't you be resting up for qualifying tomorrow?"

Lando moved to stand beside you, effortlessly flagging down the bartender. "I could ask you the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be covering the race?"

You finally turned to face him, crossing your arms. "I'm allowed to have a life outside of my job."

"So am I," he said, mirroring you.

"You sure about that?" you asked, tilting your head. "Because the way you act, it seems like your entire personality revolves around racing and being a pain in my ass."

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "You love it, though."

You scoffed. "I tolerate it."

He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the warmth of his body in the cool night air. "You tolerate me? Interesting. Because from where I’m standing, you go out of your way to get under my skin."

You arched a brow. "Funny, I was about to say the same about you."

Lando’s gaze flickered to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. "Maybe we just enjoy the game too much."

You refused to be the first to look away. "Or maybe you just hate that I don’t fall for your usual charm."

His smirk deepened. "Who said I was trying to charm you?"

"Oh, please," you scoffed, taking a slow sip of your drink. "The lingering stares? The petty jabs? The way you just so happened to end up at the same bar as me tonight?"

Lando leaned in, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Maybe I just like watching you get all worked up."

You swallowed hard, suddenly too aware of the way your pulse quickened. "Keep dreaming, Norris."

He smirked, stepping back just enough to let you breathe but not enough to break the tension crackling between you. "Sweet dreams, then, Y/N."

And just like that, he walked away. But before he could get far, you yanked his arm to turn him around and crashed your lips against his.

The kiss was electric, a charged collision of all the tension that had been building between you for months. Lando's surprise quickly melted away as he responded with equal fervor, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. The world around you blurred as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you found yourselves staring at each other with a mix of shock and desire. The background noise of the bar slowly filtered back in, reminding you of where you were.

"Well," Lando said, his voice husky. "That was..."

"A mistake," you finished, even as your body screamed otherwise. You took a step back, trying to regain your composure. "An experiment."

"An experiment," he repeated. "And what exactly was the hypothesis?"

"I’m shocked you know that word," you said, avoiding the question.

"Y/N," he warned.

"A mutual friend hypothesized that the way we act toward each other was because of something other than hatred," you admitted, thankful that you were on drink number four now.

"And the conclusion?" he asked, tipping his head curiously.

"Inconclusive," you said, and his eyes flickered back down to your lips for a second.

"Probably need more testing," he said darkly, and your pulse quickened.

"Probably," you agreed, not breaking eye contact.

"Let’s go," he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the exit.

"I just got my drink," you complained, but made no move to stop him.

His hotel was only a couple of blocks away. That was the only thing he said the whole walk over, but his hand gripped yours tightly.

By the time you made it to his floor, his pace quickened, like he didn’t want to give you a chance to change your mind. The door opened, then closed, and suddenly you were pressed against it, his lips on your neck.

It lasted a minute before you gripped his hair, yanking his head back so you could press your lips against his.

The kiss was rough and demanding, both of you fighting each other with something other than words this time. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, and you lifted it up, watching his eyes widen at your bare chest.

Lando's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. His hands skimmed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shivered under his touch, your breath catching in your throat.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of your usual dynamic. "Shut up and kiss me, Norris."

He smirked, clearly enjoying your impatience. "So demanding," he teased, but obliged, capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

Your hands roamed his body, tugging at his shirt until he broke the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head. The feeling of skin on skin was intoxicating, and you couldn't help the small moan that escaped you as he pressed you further against the door.

His hands trailed down from your waist, past the loose band of your pants and under your panties. He lightly traced over your clit before moving to where you wanted him. 

“So wet baby, are you sure you hate me?” He teased as you moaned out. 

“Positive,” you got out before he slipped a finger inside, finding your g-spot and massaging it. 

Your head fell back against the door as Lando worked his fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. But you weren't about to let him have all the control. With a sudden surge of strength, you pushed off the door, forcing him to stumble backwards towards the bed.

"My turn," you growled, shoving him onto the mattress. Lando's eyes widened in surprise, but the smirk never left his face as you straddled him.

"Thought you hated me," he teased, his hands gripping your hips.

You ground down against him, relishing the groan that escaped his lips. "I do," you breathed. "This is simply an experiment."

Your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his hardening length. Lando hissed as you wrapped your hand around him, pumping slowly up and down. 

“Don’t tease,” he grumbled and you smiled wickedly at him, swiping your thumb over his head causing him to whimper. The noise took you both by surprise and you knew he was embarrassed. 

“I thought you hated me,” you threw his own words back at him. “But it sounds like you don’t.”

He started to argue back but you quickly shifted your hips, slowly sinking down on top of him. 

You both gasped as you fully pushed him inside you, the sensation overwhelming. For a moment, you stayed still, adjusting to the feel of him stretching you. Lando's hands tightened on your hips, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you.

"Fuck, y/n," he breathed, voice strained. "You feel amazing."

Instead of responding, you began to move, setting a slow, torturous pace. Lando's head fell back against the pillows, a low moan escaping him. You couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph at reducing him to this state.

"Look at me," you commanded, voice husky. His eyes snapped to yours, pupils blown wide. "I want you to see exactly who's making you feel this good."

Lando's lips curled into a smirk, even as his breathing grew ragged. His fingers dug harshly into your waist and he started to move you faster against him and you groaned out. 

Lando suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion. The change in position drove him even deeper inside you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure. His eyes locked onto yours, blazing with intensity.

"My turn," he growled, echoing your earlier words.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit spots that made you see stars. His thrusts were deep and purposeful, each one drawing out a moan or whimper from your lips. You clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built.

Lando's lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there. The dual sensation of his mouth on your throat and his cock inside you was almost too much to bear. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his as he continued his assault on your pussy. 

"God, you feel incredible," he panted, his rhythm faltering slightly as he fought to maintain control. "So tight, so perfect for me."

Your back arched off the bed as he hit a deeper angle and your climax crashed over you. He sounded animalistic as his own release was triggered, spilling into you. 

The two of you breathed heavily for a moment looking at each other. Finally you pushed yourself off the bed and headed into the bathroom to pee and clean yourself off. When you returned, Lando was leaning against he headboard watching you as you put your clothes back on. 

“Leaving?” He asked.

“Yes,” you replied, finally looking at him. “This was just an experiment remember, it wasn’t real.”

“I remember,” he said, still watching. “You could stay.”

“I have never in my life stayed over for a one night stand,” you said. You don’t know why you told him that, he didn’t need to know anything about your personal life. 

“Are you serious?” He asked, shocked. 

“Very.” 

Lando's eyes widened at your admission. "Never? Not even once?"

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as you slipped on your shoes. "Never saw the point. It's called a one-night stand for a reason."

He sat up straighter, the sheet pooling around his waist. "But what about... I don't know, cuddling? Or morning sex?"

You couldn't help but laugh. "Cuddling? With you? Please."

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm an excellent cuddler," he protested, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself hesitating by the door. "Look, Norris, this was... satisfying. But let's not make it more than it was."

Lando's expression sobered. "And what exactly was it, y/n.”

“An experiment,” you said again, leaving before he had a chance to ask what the result was. 

[thanoskin]

BATHROOM

———

Pairing: minsu x thanos x nam-gyu

Summary: thanos and nam-gyu use a different kind of method to corrupt their favorite boy

Warnings: minors DNI 18+, handjob, public, thigh slapping (once), dom! Nam-gyu, dom! Thanos, sub! Minsu, slight choking, coaxing, let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: I’m so obsessed with the idea of the three of them fucking, going crazy over here :(

———

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a sticky glow on the bathroom tiles. Minsu’s breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as he pressed himself against the stall’s metal wall, his fingers trembling against the lock. He needed to hide from them, he was scared shitless, and he was trapped.

Thanos peaked through the tiny crack in the stall, peeking at Minsu, his sheer size making the stall feel even smaller. Namgyu peeked over the stall, his hands barely peeling from his sweater sleeves, but his gaze was an intimidating one as he grinned wickedly at the trembling boy.

“Come on, pet,” Thanos purred, kicking the door open and crouching down, dangerously close to Minsu. “You don’t want us to leave just yet, do you?”

“I’ve made my decision,” Minsu stammered, his voice quivering and barely above a whisper. “I-I already voted,” His heart pounded against his ribs. Thanos gave him a knowing look, smelling the fear off of him. Minsu tried to look away, but Nam-gyu made his way down and his fingers caught Minsu’s chin, forcing his gaze upward.

“And yet, here you are,” Thanos rumbled, his deep voice vibrating in Minsu’s chest. “Hiding.”

“Im not-“

“You are,” Nam-gyu cut in smoothly, his thumb brushing against the “O” tag on Namgyu’s jacket, then trailing his finger down Minsu’s lower lip. “And we think that means you’re having second thoughts.”

Minsu’s entire body went rigid, heat creeping up his neck. “I-I just need a moment to think, to be alone.”

Thanos let out a low chuckle. “Good. Then let’s think about this.” His ringed fingers traced over Minsu’s “O” tag.

His massive hand flattened against the stall behind Minsu’s head, his body inching closer until there was barely any space left between them. Minsu’s breath hitched as Nam-gyu leaned in from the other side, trapping him completely.

“You really don’t want to be on our team?” Nam-gyu mumbled affectionately, his lips so close to Minsu’s ear that his breath sent a shudder down his spine. “Miss out on all the fun we could have together?”

Thanos hummed in agreement. “We’d take such good care of you, Minsu. Protect you, keep you safe. All you had to do was vote O.”

Minsu squeezed his eyes shut, his hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “I-I…”

Nam-gyu’s fingers trailed down his arm and began to unzip Minsu’s jacket. “Shy little thing,” he mused. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous.”

Minsu let out a shaky breath, looking at Nam-gyu with those soft doe eyes that made the boys want to fuck his brains out right then and there.

He wanted to resist, he should resist. But the way their voices curled around him, the way their bodies caged him in, made his resolve crumble by the second.

“You know you want to,” Thanos coaxed, his voice softer now, almost gentle.

Nam-gyu finally unzipped Minsu’s jacket, lifting his shirt slightly as Minsu sat himself on the toilet seat. Namgyu pressed teasing kisses to the corner of Minsu’s jaw, making him gasp. “Be good for us, Minsu.”

Minsu’s knees wobbled as he sat on the toilet seat, forced to make eye contact with them both. His entire body felt hot, overwhelmed, as if they had stripped away every last bit of his resistance until all that was left was the dizzying need to submit.

His lips parted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Next time… I’ll choose O.”

Nam-gyu’s smirk widened, his fingers trailing down Minsu’s jaw before wrapped his hand around Minsu’s neck, kissing him deeply. Minsu shut his eyes, frozen in place, shyly kissing back.

Namgyu pulled away, his fingers trailing down Minsu’s stomach. “Good boy,” he murmured, savoring the way Minsu trembled at his words.

Thanos let out a slow, satisfied hum as he began to undo the laces on Minsu’s sweatpants, the touch deceptively gentle. “I knew you’d see reason, little one.”

Minsu lifted his hips eagerly as Thanos tugged down his sweatpants and boxers, revealing a hard, needy cock, and both men groaned at the sight.

Nam-gyu bit Minsu’s neck, making him yelp. “You were so stubborn,” he teases, his finger tracing over Minsu’s sensitive tip. “So shy. But we knew you’d come around.”

Minsu let out a pained whimper, his dick standing straight up as the men teased, Thanos stroked Minsu, while Nam-gyu tapped his tip with this fingertips.

Minsu squeezed his eyes shut, his hips bucking pathetically into Thanos’ hand. “I didn’t-“

“You did,” Thanos interrupted, stroking Minsu’s cock more firmly. “And you’ll stay by our side, well make sure of it.”

The door to the bathroom swings open and the men freeze, hearing footsteps approach the stall next to them. Nam-gyu and Thanos look at eachother, a silent agreement passing between them.

Namgyu stood from his crouched position, and moved behind Minsu, wrapping a hand around his mouth to keep him quiet.

A muffled whine escaped Minsu’s throat, earning a slap to his inner thigh from Thanos, the rings on Thanos’ fingers stinking against his skin. Thanos jerked him off fast, there was a slight, pathetic wet sound. The man eventually left the bathroom, and Minsu let out a choked whimper.

Minsu squirmed as Thanos jerked him off with a firm hand. Nam-gyu chuckled, nibbling on Minsu’s neck. “You like this don’t you? Being surrounded, being ours.”

Minsu could only moan in reply, his hips bucking upwards into Thano’s hand. “Oh fuck,” Minsu gasped, letting out a high pitched whine before cumming.

The boys groaned as they watched the cum shoot up, landing on Minsu’s bare stomach. Minsu’s cheeks were adorably flushed, his body trembling from the intense orgasm.

“I…I..” he couldn’t finish the sentence, he was too out of breath, and didn’t really know what to say.

Thanos chucked, rubbing Minsu’s thighs comfortingly, despite his earlier, rough and determined touches. “You don’t need to say anything, soft one.” He patted Minsu’s thighs in a comforting, soothing way. “Your body speaks for you.”

Nam-gyu begins to kiss Minsu’s flushed cheeks and sweat baked forehead, looking down at him with a profound adoration.

“You belong to us now, Minsu.” Nam-gyu’s voice was low, assured.

“And we take care of what’s ours.” Thanos takes Minsu’s hands in his, looking him straight in the eye, Minsu searched frantically for deception, but saw none. He saw devotion instead, and it made his stomach flip.

Thanos and Nam-gyu looked at eachother, they had no doubt that when the next vote came, Minsu would be a good boy and choose O, just for them.

———

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Marriage Problems Chapter 2

Summary: They’ve been married for 19 years, their 20th anniversary coming up soon.  Older, busier, and stuck on the repeat of their daily lives, Y/N and Bucky are struggling.  Their marriage is good, but feeling rocky the last few years as they’ve settled into this stage of their lives.  Can they get their spark back?  Or is it better to do the unthinkable, and move on without each other?

Warnings:  language, forced kiss, eventual smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

Bucky rushed home after work that day.  The presentation had gone well, securing his bonus, but had run over the time he’d originally planned.  He had texted Y/N, but never got a response.  He got home as fast as he could, walking into the kitchen to find it empty.  Fuck, missed dinner, he thought, chastising himself as he unloaded his things and cleaned them.  He walked toward the sound of the kids’ voices in the front room.  They were all spread out on the floor doing homework, spouting off endless questions to Y/N, who was trying her best to help them while also mediating between Winnie and Becca, which seemed like a constant these days.

“Mama she won’t stop brushing her eraser shavings on my paper!” Winnie whined, trying to shove the eraser bits back toward Becca.

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying,” Becca whined back.  “Not everything I do is to spite you.  Maybe if you wouldn’t sit so close to me they wouldn’t land on your stuff!”

“Guys, please,” Y/N sighed, rubbing her eyes.

“Hello my loves,” Bucky called out, trying to distract them.

The kids all looked up at him with smiles on their faces, quickly getting up and giving him hugs and greetings before sitting back down.  Bucky moved over and around them to Y/N, kneeling down next to her.  She gave him a small smile in greeting.  “How did your presentation go?” she asked quietly.

“We got it,” he replied, smiling at her.  

“Congratulations,” Y/N’s smile widened.

It was one of the few real smiles he’d gotten from her in a while, and it made his heart soar.  Before he could say anything else the girls were bickering again, and James started firing off questions.

“Quit with the eraser!  Geez, do you just not get it so you keep having to restart?  How stupid can you be?”

“Mama, did you sign that form for the field trip yet?”

“I’m not the stupid one, you are!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“And I have that bake sale coming up, did you sign up for cupcakes?  Or muffins?  Your cookies last year were good.  Oh and my soccer uniform is all grassy, did you wash it yet?”

Y/N shut her eyes tight, trying to breath through the mounting noise.

“Guys,” Bucky said in a warning tone.

“Dad she’s being so annoying.  Why can’t you just leave me alone?  This is why you don’t have any friends.”

“I have plenty of friends.  You wouldn’t know anything about that because all the friends you have are just guys trying to date you.  How does it feel knowing that they don’t actually care about you, just what they can get from you?”

“At least I can get a date.”

“Mama, what does she mean what they can get from her?”

“OH MY GOD SHUT UP!” Y/N screamed, standing up fast and pushing away from them all, covering her ears.  “SHUT UP!  ALL OF YOU!  JESUS CHRIST!”  They all froze, staring at her in shock.  “No, James, I haven’t done any of that yet.  It will get done eventually.  As for you two,” she pointed at the girls.  “I know you’re both in a very weird stage of teen years right now, but if I hear one more mean thing said between the two of you I will ground you both for the rest of the school year, do you hear me?”  They both nodded quickly.  “I cannot stand this anymore.  This constant bickering, the noise, the incessant leaning on me for every little thing.  I’m so sick of the same thing day in and day out!  I’m done!”

Bucky stared at her in shock.  She had yelled at the kids before during rough moments, but this was different.  Y/N looked at them all with a deep look of disgust.  “I love you all very much.  But this is absolutely ridiculous, and I will not put up with it anymore.  I deserve better than this endless, repetitive, tedious bullshit!  Don’t I?”  Bucky stood up and walked over to her.  She had started crying as she spoke, and as he cupped her face in his hands she looked up at him, her eyes pleading and exhausted.  “Don’t I?” she cried.

“Yes, you do,” Bucky whispered, nodding as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against her forehead.  “Just breathe, pretty mama.  Breathe.”

Y/N sputtered, her hands in fists at her sides as she closed her eyes.  She let herself relax against him for a moment, but just as suddenly as it started she shook her head again and pulled out of his grasp, sniffing hard.  “I…I’m fine, I just–” she glanced at them all, her face twisting into a look of horror.  “I’m sorry,” she gasped, then turned and ran up the stairs.

Bucky watched her run, sighing when he heard their bedroom door shut loudly.  He turned to look at the kids, each of them with a look of shock and sadness on their faces.  “It’s gonna be okay, guys,” he said quietly, sitting down on the floor with them again.  “Mama just needs some time.  But she’s right,” he said, looking down at his hands then at Becca.  “Becca, if what Winnie’s saying is true, you need to find better friends.  Boys, especially at this age, aren’t worth it.”  She frowned and looked down.  “Winnie, you need to let Becca have her time away from you.  Just because you’re both close in age and go to the same school doesn’t mean you’re both the same.  She is her own person, and you are your own person.  Does that make sense?”  Winnie’s lips tightened, but she nodded.  “James, I know you mean well, but asking a lot of questions all at once is very overwhelming for Mama, and as much as she is willing to help you, she needs a breather just like everyone else.  Got it?”  James nodded sadly.  “As for all three of you, you’re old enough now, and your mom and I have taught you enough by now, to be able to handle yourselves more.  That means from now on you’re responsible for knowing your schedules, taking care of yourselves with your personal hygiene, cleaning up after yourselves, and as of now you’ll be responsible for getting your lunches for school ready, preparing your own breakfasts, and making sure you’re out the door on time for the bus.  Also, laundry,” he said, glancing at James for emphasis.  “Your clothes, your problem.  Do you all understand?”

They all nodded solemnly.  “Good.  We are going to have to work together to take the brunt of the work off of Mama.  She’s done too much for all of us for too long.  Which makes her an amazing mother and wife–” he stopped, nearly getting choked up on his words, before quickly clearing his throat.  “But it’s too much for just one person to handle.  We are a family, and family loves and supports each other, right?”  They all nodded again.  “Okay.  Are you all done with your homework enough for tomorrow?”  

“Yes,” they all said in unison.

“Great.  Then go get ready for bed,” Bucky said.  “Good night, my spawn.”

They all giggled and gave him goodnight farewells and hugs, gathering their things and putting them away before trudging up the stairs to get ready for bed.  Bucky sighed as he stood up again, stretching before looking around the main floor of the house.  It was mostly pretty clean, so he got to work cleaning up the last few little messes and things he could see that needed to be done, then ate the leftovers from dinner.  

When he was finished the kids had all settled down in bed, and he tucked them each in before heading to his bedroom.  Bucky hesitated at the door, unsure of how to broach what had happened.  He knocked lightly, waiting to hear anything, but after a moment of silence he slowly opened the door.  He peered in and found Y/N already in bed, her soft snores the only sound in the room.  Bucky walked in and closed the door quietly, walking over to her side of the bed and kneeling down.  She was already in her pajamas, and judging from her makeup free face and the puffiness of her eyes, she had cried as she got ready for bed and up until she fell asleep.  Bucky’s heart broke for her.  He and the kids had been leaning on her for everything for so long.  They had taken advantage of her.  She had been suffering silently because she felt like she could only depend on herself to get things done.  He reached up and gently wiped away the last bits of tears that were still wet on her face, then leaned forward and kissed her nose.  “I’m so sorry, pretty mama,” he whispered, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.  I love you.”  

Y/N squirmed a little in her sleep at his touch, but didn’t wake, letting out a short hum as she readjusted herself.  Bucky smiled at her, fixing the blanket around her and tucking her in before getting ready for bed.

@cjand10 @sebastians-love @sherwoodforesttales @shanksstrawhat

[minicookiedemonx]

HEAT OF THE MOMENT

Hi my writer name is mini, I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger but lost interest. But I’m back with a bang! I hope somebody enjoys this. This is my first post to this community and I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read so far! I don’t know how to set mine up too look as cool as everyone else’s :p.

Edit credit @ myself

Summary: Fem reader POV; You cause a scene at a local bar causing Officer Gojo to escort you off the premises. The reader is alluring, seductive and teasing him with lust. Causing Officer Gojo to then lose his composure and disregard protocol.

Warnings; rough, jjksmut ,gojosatorusmut ,NFSW , outdoor sex, authority-kink, creampie, nofluff , gojosmut, gojoxfemreadersmut, hair pulling, fingering, breast sucking.

Word count; 2k

The bar was alive with chaos—laughter, shouting, the clinking of glasses—but none of it compared to the scene you were making at the center of it all. You weren't even sure how it had escalated this far, but the combination of spilled drinks, a bruised ego from the guy you'd argued with, and the bartender's exasperation had turned a fun night out into something more... memorable.

"Miss, you need to calm down," the bartender said, his patience clearly worn thin.

You rolled your eyes, leaning on the counter with a playful smirk. "I'm calm. Maybe you're the one who needs to relax. How about a drink? On the house, perhaps?"

Before the bartender could respond, the door to the bar swung open, and in strode Officer Gojo Satoru. His presence commanded attention instantly—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing an air of authority that clashed with the cocky smirk he wore so effortlessly. His uniform fit him a little too perfectly, and his white hair, pushed back in a carefree style, gleamed under the dim lights. He slid his shades down just enough to scan the room with those piercing blue eyes.

You froze for half a second, watching as he approached with a slow, deliberate stride. The murmurs in the bar quieted as he stopped in front of you, towering over you with an air of unshakable confidence.

"Miss. Y/N," he said, his voice calm but edged with annoyance. "I heard you've been causing some trouble."

You gave him your most innocent smile, tilting your head as you looked up at him. "Trouble? That doesn't sound like me. I'm just having a little fun."

His gaze was unamused, his smirk faint but sharp. "Yeah, well, your 'fun' just earned you a call to the police. So, either you come with me quietly, or we can make this a lot more complicated."

You couldn't resist pushing your luck. "Come on, Officer. You don't really want to arrest me, do you? You've got those gorgeous eyes, that perfect jawline—wouldn't you rather stay here and let me buy you a drink?"

The bartender audibly sighed, but Gojo didn't flinch. He leaned forward just slightly, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his voice dropping lower. "Flattery doesn't work on me, sweetheart. Try again."

"Oh, but you can't blame a girl for trying," you said, your grin widening as you let your eyes linger on him just a little too long. "What about a smile? Surely I can charm a smile out of you?"

Gojo's lips twitched, but he didn't budge. Instead, he grabbed your wrist gently but firmly, his grip unyielding as he straightened up. "That's enough. Let's go."

Your grin faltered for a moment as he pulled you away from the counter, his calm yet authoritative demeanor leaving no room for argument. Still, you couldn't help yourself. "You really know how to kill the mood, you know that?"

"You'll thank me later," he replied dryly, his voice laced with sarcasm as he led you through the crowd. His hand on your wrist was firm, but not harsh, and you couldn't help but admire the way he handled you with such practiced ease.

As you were escorted out of the bar, you glanced over your shoulder, tossing a playful smile his way. "So, Officer, do you do this for all the pretty girls, or am I just special?"

He rolled his eyes, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're definitely... something."

Once outside, he released your wrist but positioned himself squarely in front of you, his imposing figure blocking your escape. His shades were now perched on top of his head, those sharp blue eyes boring into yours.

"Listen," he said, his tone serious. "I'm going to give you one chance to walk away and go home. No more scenes, no more trouble."

You crossed your arms, tilting your head with a sly smile. "What if I don't want to go home? What if I want to stay out here... with you?"

His jaw tightened, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw his confidence waver. But then his smirk returned, more smug than before. "Y/N, I've got more patience than most, but you're really pushing it."

You stepped closer, just enough to challenge him. "Or maybe you like being pushed."

His expression hardened, his voice dropping low. "This isn't a game."

"Oh, but it could be," you whispered, your voice dripping with mischief.

"Alright, Y/N," he said, voice low and steady. "Here's the deal. You're going to calm down, and we're going to the station. No more games."

You smirked, leaning your back against the cold brick wall behind you. "Games? I think you're the one making this more serious than it has to be. I was just having fun, Officer."

He stepped closer, his broad shoulders cutting off the light and casting a shadow over you. "Fun? You think dragging me out here in the middle of my shift is fun?"

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a playful grin. "I didn't drag you anywhere. You came all on your own. Besides, maybe you like this more than you're willing to admit."

His blue eyes narrowed behind his shades, which now sat low on his nose. "I told you to stop pushing me."

You shrugged, unbothered. "And I told you I don't think you'll do anything about it."

That was all it took. Before you could blink, Gojo spun you around and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, pressing his body against your back with enough force to make your heart race but not enough to hurt. You could feel his member betray his non-intrested demeanor by rubbing into your ass. You could feel how deeply excited he was- even if he didn't want to admit it.

"I warned you," he said, his voice dangerously low, his breath hot against your ear. "But you just can't help yourself, can you?"

You met his gaze head-on, unflinching, your smirk still intact. "What can I say? I like seeing you lose control."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it looked like he might snap. But then he pulled back abruptly, releasing your wrists and stepping away as though the mere proximity was too much. He reached into his belt and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"You're under arrest," he said coldly, his voice hard and professional once more.

Your grin only widened as he spun you around, snapping the cuffs onto your wrists with practiced ease. "Aw, Officer, you didn't have to go to all this trouble just for me."

"Keep talking," he muttered, steering you toward his patrol car as he read you your rights.

He opened the back door and guided you inside, his touch firm but careful. As he climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, you couldn't help but notice the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly.

The drive to the station started in silence, the hum of the engine filling the air. But you couldn't resist.

"So, Officer Gojo," you began, your voice lilting with amusement, "is this how you spend all your nights? Arresting harmless bar patrons and pretending you're not ridiculously attractive?"

"Y/N," he warned, his eyes focused on the road, his voice tight.

"What?" you asked innocently. "I'm just making conversation. It's not my fault you've got this whole 'hot cop' thing going on. You must get this all the time."

He didn't answer, but you caught the way his jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as his grip on the wheel tightened.

You leaned forward as far as the cuffs and seatbelt would allow. "You know, you're kind of cute when you're pretending to be all serious. I wonder what it would take to make you crack."

"Stop," he said through gritted teeth.

"Stop what?" you teased. "I'm just talking. It's not like I'm doing anything wrong. You wouldn't pull over just because I said you had nice eyes, would you?" Gojo ignored you and you sighed with annoyance. You weren't going to give up that easily.

"Honestly the way you pressed me against that wall back there...made me kind of hot. You know...down there?" I spread my legs open slowly, unsure if he could see me do so but regardless they opened wide.

Officer Gojo remained silent, determined to remain calm and collected.

"So hot that when I go home tonight, and I touch myself, I might just think about that to get me off," you paused for a second. "Do you like the thought of that? Me all alone in my bed, circling my clit while moaning your name," you rolled your head back onto the head rest and jokingly moaned his name, "Ohh Officer Gojo,  just saying your name makes me so wet."

That was the last straw. Without warning, Officer Gojo pulled the car to the side of the deserted road, the tires crunching against gravel as he shifted the car into park. He got out and made his way to the back door, opening it furiously, meeting your gaze with extreme frustration in his eyes.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and rough as he leaned closer towards you through the door. "I've been patient. I've been professional. But you just don't know when to quit, do you?"

You smiled, unbothered by his sudden intensity. "Maybe I just like getting under your skin. Seems like I'm pretty good at it."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before leaning closer, his face inches from yours. "Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're asking for?"

"Trouble?" you echoed, your voice soft and teasing. "Is that what you call this? Because I think you're the one who's in trouble, Officer."

His gaze flickered to your lips for just a moment before he closed his eyes, as if trying to collect himself. But when he opened them again, all the restraint was gone. "You don't know what you're doing to me."

"Then show me," you challenged, leaning forward just enough that your lips nearly brushed his.

Officer Gojo groaned, low and guttural, before finally giving in. His lips crashed against yours with a desperation that sent a jolt of heat through your entire body. The cuffs on your wrists pressed uncomfortably against the seat, but you didn't care. His hands were on you—cupping your face, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer as though he couldn't get enough.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N," he murmured, his voice rough and raw.

You smiled, still breathless. "Well, at least you'll die happy."

His lips collided with yours once again, meshing together with ease, you slipped your tounge in and his eagerly fought yours for dominance. One of his hand slide down from your face and under your shirt, onto your breast, gripping it tightly before pulling back and pinching your nipple.

You moaned into his mouth as he played with your breast, the excitement building inside you began to pool onto your panties. His lips remained locked onto yours as his hand travelled south before hiking up your mini skirt, revealing your black laced thong.

He pulled back to observe you, his face flushed as he panted. "You're going to get me in so much trouble," his fingers slide over your aching core, making sure to stop and focus on your hardened bud with a few quick circles.

You eagerly bucked your hips into his hands, whimpering for more. "Fuck you're so fucking wet," he groaned, using his fingers to push your panties to the side before running his fingers between your slits again as you oozed onto his fingers.

His thumb traced your clit, sending shivers throughout the your whole body as you felt the crisp air meet your wet core. Exposed and open, the only thing you were worried about is how soon you could get Officer Gojo to fuck you.

"You're such a fucking slut," Officer Gojo panted huskily, "willing to give up your pussy just to avoid jail time," he smirked dipping a finger into you, causing a loud gasp to escape your lips. He hummed at the sound, "But if you let me fuck you like the slut you are, it might work out for you." Officer Gojo stated with a smirk, locking eyes with you.

Your head rolled back with ecstasy as you felt his fingers curl in an upward motion behind your cervix. His fingers were so fucking long and they were hitting all the right spots. You were a gasping, moaning mess, you gazed down to Gojo to see his eyes locked onto your pussy.

Watching as his fingers moved in and out of you with an urgency that signaled he was having just as much fun as you were. He looked up at your gaze, locking eyes with you.

His gaze was no longer cold and harsh, but filled with desperation and lust. He added another finger before he starting pumping into your pussy effortlessly. The cuffs were digging into your wrist behind you, it stung but you could care less- it honestly made things hotter.

He observed you as he finger fucked you into oblivion, the way his fingers curled inside you had you craving for more. You wanted him-no needed him inside you. You turned your gaze down to his crotch and saw how tight the fabric around his dick had gotten.

The sight of him made you moan out desperately, "I want you inside me, I need you to fuck me," you said, panting inbetween words. He chuckled at the sounds of your desperation, "and...why should I do that" gojo stated with a low seductive tone, slowing the pace of his fingers.

"Because I'm your dirty little slut," you say with a smirk on your face, locking eyes with him as you pull his fingers out of you and latch your mouth around them, licking them clean.

Officer Gojo groaned at the sight and quickly grabbed you out the backseat and slammed you against the car. He pressed his chest to your back as he pinned your arms on top of your lower back.

His hips bucked into your ass, aggressively grinding his harden cock against your rear end. All this foreplay had riled Officer Gojo up to the point he felt as if his cock would burst from the seams if he didn't relieve himself soon. He kissed your neck as he pulled down your skirt and panties in one swift movement.

You heard his belt unbuckled and Officer Gojo undo his zipper rapidly. You went to turn around and greet his member but he roughly pushed you against the car. "You stay right there and look pretty while I fuck the shit out of you," he sternly stated, you nodded your head like a good girl.

He bent you over before spreading your legs, you felt him line his tip up with your aching core. He slapped it against your harden clit, causing you to hiss with desperation. You were so sensitive down there, however, you couldn't help but crave for more. He teasingly slide it between your slit, back and forth slowly before plunging deep into you.

You didn't get a chance to see his dick before it entered you but by the way it filled you up told you everything you needed to know. Officer Gojo moaned loudly as he entered you, taking his time with the first few strokes. Embracing the feeling of your tight, wet pussy griping all around his cock. It was almost too much for him to handle.

He began pounding into you with no mercy, the sound of skin clapping echoed as it blended with the sounds of the crisp breeze and eerily silence of the night. Officer Gojo was unfolding right in front of you, and you couldn't help but join him- fucking him had me  ecstatic.

"Fuck your pussy is so tight baby," Officer Gojo cooed as he gazed down, watching his dick slide in and out of you. He bit his lip in admiration, " and it looks so fucking good on my dick." He slapped your ass harshly while thrashing into you, you gasped at the sudden movement but quickly became the moaning slut gojo had turned you into.

He took a handful of your hair and pulled you back, finding ways to penetrate you in ways you have never imagined. You could hear Officer Gojo attempting to restrain himself from moaning loudly, whimpers left between his parted lips. The sounds drove you absolutely insane, you didn't take him for a whimper but you were loving every second of it.

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this to you," gojo stated, slowing his flow and pumping at a slow rate. "If you weren't such a desperate, needy fucking slut, I could be home by now." You moaned quite my as he fucked you through his lecture.

"But instead you have me in the middle of nowhere, losing my mind over how fucking good your pussy feels," and just like that gojo went right back to pounding you with no mercy. He needed to feel every inch of you, better yet- he needed to fill every inch of you.

You don't know how but he found a way to fuck you faster, even rougher, at this point no noise could espace your lips as he had fucked you into another dimension and you could barely process how good his dick felt inside you. You felt a familiar knot building in your lower abdomen.

"If you keep fucking me like that, I'm going to cum," you said breathless. A light clicked in Officer Gojo, his cock twitched in response. "Go ahead baby, be a good slut and cum all over my dick as I fill your pussy up," he was also breathless, he voice slightly cracking.

He pounded roughly into you until your pussy grasp and pulsated on his cock, triggering for him to spill every drop of cum inside you. It felt good, it felt amazing cumming on top of him as he filled you up. You were convinved there was no better feeling than fucking officer gojo.

He stepped back and pulled himself out of you, tucking his member back into his underwear and redressing. You turn to look at him, your face covered with red and beads of sweat. A smirk lacing your lips,

"So officer Gojo, are you still going to arrest me?"

-

HOPE YALL ENJOYED! MORE TO COME!

[aramynx]

SECRETS SOFTLY SPOKEN

TOUYA TODOROKI X READER

summary: you’re out on the balcony with touya as he lights up a cigarette, standing in a tense silence until one of you decides to break it.

a/n: soft touya is sending me through a loop !!

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

Cool wind swept your hair from your face, pushing it behind you as your elbows rested on the cold metal railing of the balcony. The nights were beginning to get colder, more dreary and grey and bleak. The golden glow of the sun had already faded, leaving you with nothing but moonlight and the nonchalant presence of the man leaning on the railing beside you. A thick smoke surrounded you for a moment before it was swept away in the wind. Looking towards the source, you meet a pair of iridescent blue eyes, gleaming in the dim light of the moon.

“What?” He asked, tilting his head slightly as you stared, “‘f you’re expecting me to offer you one then don’t get your hopes up.”

“No, it stinks. Would it kill you to not blow it in my face for once, Touya?” You said, wafting the remaining smoke off into the night as it began to dissipate.

Touya shrugged, taking another drag from the cigarette between his fingers. This time, holding the smoke in as he spoke to you.

“What are you gonna do if I do it again?” He asked, turning towards you to purposefully blow a little of the smoke into your face before releasing the rest of it into the sky.

You sighed as he chuckled slightly, looking back out over the city. For a while, you remained in silence, taking in the silhouettes of buildings and skyscrapers, small boxes illuminated by apartment lights.

“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if your dad wasn’t such a dick to you?” You asked.

“No.”

“Maybe you’d have less attitude problems.”

“Shut up.” He sighed, a small smirk forming on his lips to hide the sadness he was beginning to feel. As quickly as it appeared, the smirk was gone, replaced with an expressionless gaze over the city, “What do you know anyway?”

“Enough to be able to tell that you do care what he thinks of you.” You say, smiling slightly at him as he rolls his eyes, staring off into the distance.

“Fuck.” He half chuckles, barely coping with the reality of the miserable, torturous life given to him, “Maybe it does matter to me, so what?”

“I dunno, maybe I just think it’d be a good idea for you to talk about it.” You meekly looked towards him, only for your eyes to meet his looking back at you.

“Oh yeah? To who?”

You rolled your eyes as he smirked at you, turning away from him, "Forget about it, then." You scoffed.

For a few moments you and Touya stood beside each other in silence, watching over the night that brought the city to an almost perfect stillness. Living the lives of criminals meant that nothing you ever did would be 'normal', whether you gave up on this lifestyle or not. Even so, you'd never imagined you'd end up here.

"You sure you want to work with the league?" Touya asked, stubbing out the butt of his cigarette on the cold steel railing. "You'll never be able to have any semblance of a normal life after this. You won't have what everyone else gets to have..."

You looked up at his as his spoke, yet his eyes stayed focussed on something in the distance, where your own eyes soon wandered. The window of an apartment opposite the balcony- a young couple standing in their living room sharing a warm embrace with bright, hopeful smiles.

"Are you willing to give that up?" He asks. The question is vague, but you suspect he's referring to the happy sight in front of you.

"I don't know." You muttered, "I don't know what I want any more."

"Yeah. Me neither." Touya says softly, shuffling ever so slightly closer to you, "I don't even know what I'm missing out on. Never been in a real relationship before anyway."

"You're kidding, right?" You asked, looking over to him.

"Nope. People aren't interested in me. Even if I was a good person, I'm pretty gross-looking." Touya sighed, looking down at his scarred forearms and the accompanying staples embedded in his hands.

"I'm sure there's someone out there who finds you attractive." You reassured, doing your utmost to conceal your own opinions of his appearance. Sure, he's covered in severe burn scars, and his flesh is being held together by staples, but still, you find him to be incredibly attractive, “You’ve got some things going for you anyway.”

“Like what?” He smirked, “Do tell.”

“I don’t know, you’ve got a pretty good physique under that dumbass jacket, the piercings you have really add to your style, your eyes are otherwordly.” You admitted, “I bet you’d look really nice if you got all dressed up.”

“Oh yeah?” Touya’s eyes drifted over to you, where you were still looking over the city. “You’re pretty good-looking too.”

Maybe, he wondered. Maybe you could find some kind of normality in this place.

[eddiesvixen]

Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinkin’ Rich - 𝗗.𝗥.𝗙.𝗦.𝗥

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 (𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴) , 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲 (𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹’𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘂𝗰𝗲)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗻𝘁: 𝟱.𝟭𝗸

the sixth and final chapter of Open Til Midnight

The car ride is silent on your way home from the station. You’re sat in the backseat of Hopper’s truck with Eddie as he eats away at the meal Jonathan brought you. You didn’t have an appetite honestly. Nothing filled you mroe right now than the rage you feel for Larry.

That smug face he gave you, the accusatory tone he used against Eddie when those cops showed up. The way he looked at Hopper like he wasn’t worth a wad of gum on the sidewalk. You wanted to make that bastard pay.

Hopper drops you and Eddie off at his apartment.

“You two gonna be okay?” He looks back at the both of you, tired and defeated. You’ve never seen Hopper like this and that hurt’s you more.

“We’ll be fine.” You nod. “See you tomorrow.”

You hop out of the truck and go into Eddie’s apartment with him. He’s been awfully quiet and that worries you given how uncommon it is. You speak up.

“Do you want me to draw you a bath? Help you relax?”

He hesitates, not facing you. He hasn’t said a word since he watched you hand that cash in at the jailhouse for him. “Shower’s fine.” He walks off to the restroom.

You sigh and rub your eyes, fighting off how tired you are. Shutting down the car wash took Robin and Steve forever, leaving Chrissy to work the register alone while Jonathan brought the cash to you guys at the jailhouse. They didn’t count the cash and get Eddie out until 10, and now you’re home late 11.

‘Maybe he’s just tired.’

Bullshit.

You walk to the restroom door. “Eddie.”

There’s a gap of silence before he speaks up, his voice slightly shaky and that alone makes you wish you could break this door down.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Baby please let me in.” You place your hand to the knob. “Please.”

After a few seconds you hear the door unlock and when you open it you see him sitting on the lid of the toilet, eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Eddie.” You frown and hold onto him, standing between his legs.

He hugs you tightly and sobs into your shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

You frown and rub his back. “Eddie you have nothing to apologize for, yeah? Larry was a dick. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

He sobs a bit and you feel that ache in your heart. You haven’t seen Eddie cry this hard since his 18th birthday. He couldn’t stop crying over his mom, he missed her the most that day. And he kept playing that record over and over again. So you rest your hand in his curls.

There are places I remember

All my life though some have changed

Some forever, not for better

Some have gone and some remain

He takes a deep breath and keeps his tight hold on you, his breathing trying to regain strength. You keep rubbing his shoulders and back, feeling the tension fade.

All these places had their moments

With lovers and friends I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life, I've loved them all

He looks up at you. He sighs and gently grips your hips. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You offer him a sympathetic grin as you move his curls back so you can see his eyes better.

“You’re not perfect, Eddie. You’re a freak, remember? We’re never gonna be accepted by these people. We don’t have to be accepted.. and I know that’s scary.” You sigh. “Eddie, i’m terrified. I’ve been scared out of my mind all week.”

You cup his face. “But Steve and Chrissy, Robin, Jonathan, Hopper.. even that old man at the car wash,” you huff a small laugh, “and especially you, Eddie. That’s why I keep going. Because I have you.”

He eyes dart between your eyes and he speaks in a soft tone, as if he’s afraid to talk. “I love you.”

You feel your heart warm and freeze at the same time. Sure, you’ve said it before, as friends. But you’re not just friends anymore. You answer back in the same soft tone.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

He stands up and cups your face, kissing you as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. You kiss him back and keep your gentle hold on him, given that he’s still trembling a bit.

When he finally pulls back he speaks lowly. “Sweetheart, I promise i’ll make this right.”

You shake your head. “Eddie, there’s nothing we can do. We don’t even know what’s gonna happen tomorrow.”

“I do.” He nods and sighs. “I overheard those officers talking while the clerk was counting my bail. I know where Larry’s gonna be for the opening.”

You raise a brow. “What?”

“He’s having a party with the rest of his big business buddies. Cutting a ribbon and everything, like some kind of ceremony.”

“And how do you know this?”

Eddie moves his hands to rest on your shoulders. “I heard them sweetheart. It’s gonna be a huge event.” He shakes his head. “Turns out I was right about the cops being on his payroll.”

You nod. “Well then we better make sure they know about Larry’s letters.”

“Have a feeling they already do.”

You frown, the weight of his words sinking in. "So what's our play? We can't just sit back and let them sweep this under the rug."

He grins with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The same glint you saw before he punched Larry. "But we wont. If they're so busy making a scene, we'll just have to steal the show."

You had so many questions and yet, that glint in Eddie’s eyes woke you up. All of the anger, sadness, worry, rage and anxiety you felt all week. Play it cool. Wrap things up. You nod.

“We’ll steal the show.”

~~~~~

“Are you out of your mind?” Steve says from behind Hopper’s desk.

“Just hear me out.” Eddie sits up in his chair. “Those assholes are about to drink and party up in their fancy suits while our family ship sinks. There’s gonna be an orange slip on the door and a big ass sign hanging over our store tonight. Do you really want that?”

“Of course not.” Steve sighs.

“So let us do this, just once.” You look at Steve with pleading eyes.

“You just got out of jail.” Steve points at Eddie, then you. “And you’re not even on the schedule today.”

“And yet here we are. Home.” Eddie sits back in his chair.

“Look… I hate this, okay? I’m losing my mind knowing this’ll be the last time I step foot in here. But Hopper left me in charge.”

“So,” Eddie shrugs, “where is he? We’ll distract him while you give us the paperwork.”

“Downtown.”

You both look at Steve and he regrets saying it as soon as he does.

“Why’s he downtown?” You sit up and Steve swallows a bit because he knows from the look in your eye and the bounce of Eddie’s knee, that you both already know.

He sighs. “Signing off the lease.”

There’s a moments silence before Eddie speaks up.

“How long?”

Steve looks confused. “What?”

“How long do we have until the lease has to be in?”

“He said ten.”

You and Eddie look at each other. “The ribbon cutting.”

“The what?”

“At the party, Steve.” You sit up, hands on the desk. “Larry’s gonna cut a ribbon and that’s when those signatures count. That’s when it’s final.”

Steve looks at the clock. “It’s 3pm, why’d you come here just now?” He stands up with Hopper’s store keys as you all walk over to his closet.

Eddie hides a smrik and shrugs. “Traffic.”

You shake your head and look away so Steve doesn’t see the laughter you’re hiding but it’s late. “You guys are gross.”

“Not letting my girl leave the house stressed and untouched, Harrington. Take my advice.”

“Eddie.” You blank stare him and he sighs.

“Right, time and place. Sorry sweetheart.” He wiggles his fingers and takes the folder from Steve.

“Look, let’s maybe not tell Hop about this? In case it all goes to shit?” Steve looks between you and Eddie.

“Scouts honor.” Eddie quips as the three of you sit and look through the folders.

They’re all here. 5 years of letters, contracts, signatures from Hopper and Larry. You had a wave of hope swarm in you that you hope won’t die out.

“If there’s gonna be that many people at this party you need to move now.” Steve holds up his car keys.

Eddie raises a brow. “And what are these for?”

“Drives faster.”

Eddie scoffs. “My van is faster than lightning.”

“Okay? My car looks better-“

You cut off Steve before the boys can waste any more time. “Save it. We’ll take your car Steve. Beisdes, we have to make a stop on the way.”

“We do?” Eddie gives you a contemplative look.

“Come on.” You grab his hand.

Steve yells. “Don’t scratch my car!”

“No promises!” Eddie yells back as he lets you pull him out to the car.

~~~~

“This is bullshit.” Eddie groans as he drives Steve’s car along the road.

“Come on it’s not so bad.”

“His car’s so small.” He huffs and looks over at you as you hide a laugh. “Oh this is funny?”

You smile. “We are on the mission of a lifetime and you’re worried about driving Steve’s bmw. This is the richest car we’ve ever been in.”

“Are you really disrespecting the van while she sits in the lot away from me?” He looks at you like you called him ugly.

“Babe all im saying is… this is kinda nice. Admit it, Steve’s car does drive very smoothly.”

“No shit, he can actually afford the best engine and his dad didn’t fuck the motor when he owned it.”

You grab Eddie’s hand and rest it on your knee. “Al left you a gift. She is the golden ride, the safe haven, okay?”

He grins and nods, squeezing your hand before resting his palm over yours on yours on your thigh. “Say it again, baby.”

You laugh. “Shut up.”

“Just wanna hear you say it again. You know how much it would mean to her.” He smirks and you sigh.

“She is the safe haven.”

“Damn sweetheart. You keep talking like that and all I hear is wedding bells.”

Your eyes widen and you look at him. He can’t believe he said it too but you grin. “Wow.”

“Is that a good wow?” His adam’s apple bobs and he shifts in the driver’s seat, his other hand tightening on the wheel.

You grin and squeeze the one resting on your thigh. “The best wow.”

He snorts. “Sap.”

You gasp and smile. “Asshole. Says the guy who wouldn’t let go of my hand at the Manowar show in ‘85.”

“Oh you’re bringing that up again? Didn’t want us to get separated by that mosh.” The tinge in his cheeks shows you that he’s lying.

“You’re the sap, Munson.”

“And what does that make you?” He quips back.

“The girl in love with you, idiot.” You smile and tilt your head to look at him.

“You can’t say things like that. Not today, okay? Can’t focus if my girl is consistently flirting with me.”

“Fine, but we’ll finish this talk later.” You nod and point. “There’s our exit.”

He takes the exit and drives into the lot of the strip mall. If you were going to crash a rich asshole’s party, you needed to get in first. And if you were gonna get in, you needed to look the part. Jewelry to your hair to your clothes and shoes.

But you’re not rich assholes, you’re record shop workers. Record shop workers with a left over thousand dollars from your hard work this past week. You walk into the shop with Eddie and you look around for anything that will suit your style the best it can.

You found the prettiest black dress that slits up to your thigh and you picked out some jewelry to fit in with the other trophy wives bound to be at the party. You’d fixes your hair up and touched up your makeup to a soft glam. The black stilettos on your feet made you feel like you were actually rich, but damn did you miss your boots.

Any worries about your outfit goes out the window when you walk out of the dressing room and see Eddie. The black button up with the top two unbuttoned, he had on these black slacks that made you see him in a different light.

He manages to speak after his jaw falls slack. “Oh baby..”

You smile. “Look at you.”

“Me? Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He reaches his hand out and you take it, allowing him to pull you closer, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“You brush your hair down?” You grin, eyeing over the low bun he managed to fit his curls into.

“Well I can’t show up with a giant mane, they’ll never let us in.” He hesitates. “It’s not bad is it?”

“It’s fine.” You grin as he cups your face.

“You’re like a princess. They’ll never see you coming baby, all sophisticated and sexy.” His hands rest on your ass and you giggle.

“Thought you said no distractions.”

“We can spare a minute.” He puckers his lips and you laugh.

“Nerd.”

He smirks. “59, 58, 57…”

You cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. He smiles and squeezes your ass, humming as he feels you lick into his mouth. He shuts the door of the fitting room and grips your body closer.

You murmur against his lips. “Watch the dress.”

He hums and carefully loosens his grip on your ass. He kisses you for a bit longer before pulling back with a smile on his face. “Are you wearing that damn lip tint?”

That lip tint you wear to every concert, the one that left the cherry scent on his cheek after you kissed it in the photobooth after graduation senior year. He loves it so much and you love how his eyes widen when he licks his lips to taste it again.

“It is!”

You laugh and before you can respond, he kisses you again, tongue delving out to taste the cherry from your lips.

You laugh and pull back. “Stop, you’re gonna smear it.”

“Oh, too late for that.” He pokes his tongue out and you laugh.

You wipe the corners of your lips. “Minute’s over.”

He groans and sighs. “Right.” He pulls out the envelope of cash from his slacks. “I’ll pay and you start the car.”

You take the keys from him. “Okay.”

You walk separate ways but before he gets too far you pull him in and kiss him and smile, speaking in that sultry tone he loves so much.

“It’s called cherry bomb.” You grin.

“Cherry bomb. I will bulk these, just so you know.” He smirks and licks his lips again. “Go, before you make us late.”

~~~~~

City lights, busy streets and almost twenty parking lots later you and Eddie found yourselves in the elevator of the Languard suites. You stand there a bit nervous. There was bound to be so many people in rich suits and dresses, the people who would determine what happens to Empire tonight.

Eddie holds your hand. “I just want you to know.. if this goes south,” he sighs and gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “night shifts are open at the diner, and Jeffrey says we’re welcome.”

You wish you didn’t have to hear those words from Eddie’s lips. You nod and squeeze his hand in return. “Okay.”

You share a look. “And if it doesn’t go south,” you grin, “we’ll go back to Empire and party all night.”

He smiles. “After some alone time?”

You laugh at his eagerness. “After some alone time.”

The elevator dings and opens, you wrap your arm around his as you walk off and see into the main hall where the party takes place.

It’s very lively and full of rich people in the fanciest clothes. There’s a fountain and music played by a live orchestra. Waiters standing in every corner and everyone has a glass of their desired drinks in their hands.

Eddie leans in and murmurs in your ear. “Fancy was an understatement.”

You grin and speak back. “I think i’m gonna be sick.”

He laughs and your eyes scan the party. “That asshole’s gotta be somewhere in here.”

“Hors d'oeuvres?” A waiter says as he holds up a platter of.. fish bites?

“No thanks.” Eddie says and he grabs two glasses of champagne from the table. When the waiter leaves he looks are you with a disgusted expression. “The hell was that?”

“Fish, mushrooms? I can’t tell.” You both cringe.

You look at the clock. “It’s 7:29. Think they’ll cut the ribbon soon?”

Eddie looks across the room where the dark blue ribbon lies near the performers. “Maybe, but we made it in time.”

“So what now?” You look at him.

“Lets try to find something actually edible.” He tugs you along.

You don’t find much and of course you don’t go unnoticed. It seems everyone at this party knows each other and have businesses, so you and Eddie play along to your best attempts.

You two actually had a pretty solid story. A lovely young couple with a family business passed down from your lovely late Uncle Jim, with a successful rise in vinyl sales and bigger rise in production. Simple, typical, rich. The story sells for a while.

Unfortunately for you and Eddie, rich people talk and they talk fast. As the two of you mingle you hear someone approach you. You smell him, actually. That disturbing scent of old cedar and the smell that the dry cleaning leaves on his suits.

“Rest poor Uncle Jim’s soul.” Larry fixes his hair and looks over the both of you.

“Thought I heard slithering, sweetheart there is a snake in here.” Eddie wraps an arm around your waist.

“Nice party, Larry.” You hold onto Eddie.

“Do I need to call security? This is a private event.”

“Oh, but it’s a business event and until midnight we are business partners, right baby?” You look at Eddie and he smirks, proud to see his girl standing up to an ass like Larry.

“Oh absolutely. Even have it right here.” Eddie pulls out an envelope from his slacks and Larry’s face drops as the company around him sees his mood change.

“Have you lost your mind?” He glares at you both, “I will not be threatened by a bunch of little rebels from some pathetic small music store.”

“Pathetic?” You tilt your head, “and so which one of your properties got you enough money to afford an event like this?”

“Certainly not yours.” He glares at you both.

Eddie pulls out the paper from the envelope and smiles. “How about a little toast? Little speech?” He clears his throat before Larry can even speak. “It is with great pleasure that I sign into agreement with Jim Hopper as partners in ownership of lot 387-“

“That’s enough.” Larry demands as a few people around us catch focus.

Eddie keeps reading. “On the present date February 16, 1981 all rights of personal sales, clientele and ownership of the land belong to the persons arranged on any legal form.”

Eddie drops the paper at Larry’s feet and a lot more people focus in, murmuring to themselves.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“We know our rights.” You unfold another paper from the envelope as you walk around now. The music has stopped and everyone is focused in on you and Eddie.

“See this? This is the first certificate of full ownership for lot 387, where a community music store has rested for the past 8 years.” You hold up the certificate, “and your friend Larry here has scammed me and my family.”

You hold it up and a lot of people can’t believe their eyes. Larry grits his teeth before he speaks up. “No such thing has happened, the lot is not made for personal ownership.”

“Then why sell it to us?” Eddie speaks up.

Larry's face twitches but he quickly recovers as straightens his tie. "That was a leasing agreement not a purchase," he tries to talk smoothly but he falters at the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. "There's a difference."

You wave the certificate for the crowd to see. “The difference is Larry here, has had my boss, the most cooperative and honest man sign these fake certificates. Otherwise known as an incomplete certificate.”

“This ribbon.” Eddie says now standing in front of it, “will kill the past 8 years that me and my girlfriend and my friends have built up. The community it’s raised and the sales that have gotten you all to this very room. All gone and for what? A bookstore? Something special to so many kids and families. Gone.”

Larry clenches his jaw, his face turning red.

"This isn't some charity case. Business is business and I have done my part."

"Business?" Eddie scoff. "Scamming hard working people and kicking them to the curb is business to you?"

“How much?” A woman in a fancy dress speaks up.

You look at her a bit confused so she rephrases. “Larry never told us how much he’d be making once he made his big sell tonight so how much is it?”

“Ten thousand.” You look at the woman then Larry. “And we almost had it too. Until we saw that the licenses were actually all in his name.”

Another man speaks up. “That’s just ridiculous.”

You nod. “And yet here we are, being ever so kind to you Larry. Not asking for money or land or anything from you.”

“Then why are you here?” If looks could kill you and Eddie would be melted and six feet under.

“We want our home.” Eddie says simply, tossing all of the papers to the floor. The crowd of business owners in the room watch closely as you and Eddie face Larry.

“No more business agreements, no certificates, no partnerships. We want it to ourselves. The land, the lot, the building. Where it’s always been, but ours.”

There’s moments silence before Larry take a step closer. “And if I say no?”

You tilt your head, meeting his cold stare. "Then we take this to court. Every little trick, every fake contract, every loophole you exploited." You take a step forward standing by Eddie. "You might win, the man always wins right? But it'll cost you. Reputation, clients, everything you worked so hard for. Everyone here who’s celebrating, do you think they’ll have your back when it all goes away?”

The room falls into the silence. For every man, there’s a man he must answer to. And as you look around the room you know you’re right. No one would risk all of this for anyone else, not me or Larry or anyone.

Eddie chimes in in a kinder tone. "Or... you sign it over. No lawsuits, no bad press. Just a clean break. We walk away with what's ours and you’ll never see us again. Nobody needs to know.”

You nod and look around the room. Nobody needs to know. You don’t know much about rich people or what deals they make and you don’t know how far this will get you and Eddie as he extends his hand.

So many eyes on the three of you. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and your head swirling with thoughts. You can’t believe your eyes when you see Larry shake Eddie’s hand.

“Nobody needs to know.”

~~~~

You can’t stop staring at the papers in front of you. You’ve been reading them since they got here. The font, the title after your name. The amount of money following it.

Certificate of ownership, Jim Hopper.

Your name lies underneath with the title Co Owner.

Certificates and licenses under your names. The ownership of Empire Records is one hundred percent yours. You had people making offers at the party after finding out about Empire and how much money the store had brought for Larry’s career but you wanted it as your own. And now you look at the papers, rightfully yours.

“It’s not going anywhere you know.” Eddie smirks from behind you, smiling as he brings in your coffee.

You share a quick kiss, smirking when you pull away. “I just can’t believe it.”

“Yeah? Well, I told you you’re the favorite.” He lifts your lanyard, the title of assistant manager underneath your name.

“You’re my favorite.” You reach up from your seat and kiss him.

He murmurs against your lips. “Sap.”

You smile. “Shut up.”

You keep kissing until you hear the fake gags at the door from Steve and Chrissy. You both flip them off before pulling back.

“Can you two please keep that at home, it’s like watching two snakes slither into each other’s mouths.” Steve cringes dramatically.

You smile. “Technically this is my office, my rules.”

“Besides,” Eddie kisses you one last time before standing straight. “If I can’t kiss my girlfriend here i’ll think of somewhere else. Bathroom, back room, the van..”

Your eyes widen. “Eddie!”

Chrissy gasps. “You said those pillows were in the back for sleeping!”

“They are.” He smirks. “After we eat, have a little joint, then-“

“Eddie.” You give him that look and he shuts up.

“Anyways,” Steve pipes up, “customers are outside. Are the doors ready to open?”

Everyone looks at you. You smile. “We’re all set.”

The customers flood in and the store is in great business. There’s people coming in to listen to music, but records and even some acknowledge your help wanted sign. Now that you’re co owner, there’s more help needed on the sales floor. And you’re relieved to see so many people come in.

You order new deliveries for more records and check the booths. Managerly duties come easy to you since you’ve been here for so long, and you can’t help but admire all of your own hard work.

All of the money you raised, how determined you were to keep this place. Shutting down the corporate and keeping your families home. There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder.

Robin smirks. “Miss boss manager lady.”

You groan. “Rob come on. No big titles okay, im still me.”

“Someone needs your help.”

You raise a brow. “They asked for a manager?”

“Mhm. Right in the back room.” She nods, feigning seriousness.

“Okay um, ill be right back.” You walk down the stairs from the booths to the back room and you smile at the sight in front of you.

Eddie stands by the sofa, a rose in his mouth and a cupcake on the table. The room is dark and lit by a few tea candles. He smiles and wiggles his brows, whatever he’s trying to say to you is muffled by the rose.

“What?” You smile.

He chuckles and holds his hand out for you to take. Once you do he pulls you into his body and grins as you take the rose.

“Where’s your shirt?”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s your first question, really?”

You smile. “Well someone could walk in.”

“Thought you liked pda.” He challenges you, pulling you onto his lap on the sofa as you sit on his left thigh.

“I do, but this is our first solo opening.”

“Exactly.” He smiles and hands you the cupcake. “Congratulations baby.”

You take the cupcake from his hand, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you. The dim lighting from the candles casts a soft glow around you both making the moment feel even more intimate.

"Congratulations to you too," you grin before taking a small bite of the cupcake. "Mmm, did you pick these out?"

He smirks, running a hand down your back. "Of course. You like it?”

You smile. “Try for yourself.” You drag your finger in the frosting, spreading a bit onto his nose.

He blinks in surprise before letting out a low chuckle. "Oh you think you're funny huh?"

You giggle, leaning back slightly as he pretends to be offended. "Just wanted to share." You say it in one but Eddie’s no dummy.

He swipes his thumb across his nose, licking the frosting off with a slow smirk. "Cute. But now you owe me."

You raise a brow and before you can react his fingers graze your chin, tilting your face as he kisses you soft and slow at first, then deeper as he tastes the sugar on your lips from his. Your fingers curl against his bare shoulder, the warmth of his skin grounding you in the moment.

When he pulls back his eyes gleam with mischief. "Definitely sweeter that way."

You smile. “Teasing me while were in the middle of our first shift?”

“Teasing? Sweetheart it’s like 8pm, I should at least get ten minutes.”

You play at his curls and kiss him one last time. “I could fire you now.”

He clutches his chest. “Maliciously cruel princess how you break my heart.”

You giggle at his dramatic attitude and tap his chest. “Something I could never do.”

He holds your hand to his chest and speaks softly. “Always knew you’d find a way.”

You speak in a tone to match his own. “Couldn’t have done it without you all.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, his smirk softening into something more sincere. "Well i'm not going anywhere so you're stuck with me."

"Good," you murmur, giving his hand before finally pulling away. "Now get back to work before I actually fire you."

He sighs dramatically but stands, stretching before shooting you a wink. "Yes boss."

He pulls on his shirt and heads toward the front, you take a moment to glance around the reality of the night settling in. Your first solo opening. Something you've dreamed of for so long and somehow it feels even better sharing it with him.

With Steve and Jonathan and the girls, for Hopper, for your customers. You saved Empire from hell and woth the help of everyone you did it for including yourself, you knew that everyday would feel like today and even better.

taglist: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914 @definitionwanderlust @veravee-blog @losingmygrasponreality @ironmusictrash @littlemissholy @bastardstevie

author’s note: thank you so much for reading Open Til Midnight. this has been fun to write and i hope its been fun to read. please reblog or share with a friend, zoe ♥️

[nymphaea-blue]

Oneshot - A date with Rafayel.

Info : 900+ word count, possible grammar errors (this was written at 11pm.), reader and Rafayel are in a relationship, very cute fluff, mention of worries/insecurity about self worth, small mention of alcohol.

“Rafayel, are we getting close now?” You asked as your lover guided you to an unknown place, one of his hands gently placed over your eyes to keep you from peeking as his other hand made sure to guide you along the path, so you wouldn’t get hurt.

“Almost, be patient, cutie.” He responded simply and after a few more moments, he stopped and moved around you, you could just hear his footsteps, the wind and… the sea?

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” Rafayel gave you the go ahead and as you opened your eyes, your breath almost got stolen. You were on the beach, the one by his house, but it looked different now. The moonlight was shining down onto the table that was set up, with two chairs and a few dishes arranged alongside candlelights. The dock was dressed in cute lights and rose petals, it looked like a scene from a dream.

“Oh, Rafayel, this is wonderful.. you did this all for me?” You asked, almost not believing what you saw.

“‘Course I did, who else would it be for? Now come on, take a seat, it won’t bite you.” He nodded, he was happy that you liked his surprise, that’s all he wanted to see after all, you being happy. He pulled out the seat for you and then pulled it in as you sat down.

The dishes all looked so good and they were fresh too, you knew from the steam coming from them and the amazing smell. It was a few seafood dishes, as well as some pasta and some of your favorite comfort dishes and drinks. He really seemed to think all of it through.

As Rafayel made a plate for you and himself, you couldn’t help but admire the wonderful sights. The moon was shining brightly, the waters were calm and they reflected all the lights and the moon perfectly, making for a romantic atmosphere. Rafayel himself looked quite striking too, even more than usual. He wore a suit, which was typically reserved for more special occasions but his tie was colourful and playful, like his personality. 

The both of you soon started eating and the food was as good as it looked, it was a perfect meal for a night like this, it warmed you up a little and put you in a good mood.

“Mmh, this is delicious! Did you make it yourself?”

“I did, I made all the seafood dishes!... Some of the food here is our favourite takeout though, I hope you don’t mind.”

After your first course, Rafayel stepped aside for a moment so you took the time to walk along the dock. You were left thinking for a while as you reached the end of the dock, did you miss an anniversary? Was it your birthday? Did something important happen on this day? Because the surprise was wonderful though it left you wondering what was the reason for it.

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it as soon you heard soft classical music playing and Rafayel stood alongside you.

“Enjoying the scenery?” He asked as he gently wrapped his arms around your form and brought you closer to him, a faint blush present on his face alongside his signature smile.

“Yeah, it’s really wonderful, you outdid yourself! Can I ask, what’s the occasion though?” You smiled and leaned your forehead against his in an act of affection.

“Does there have to be a reason? I just thought that we both worked really hard lately and I missed spending time with you, so I decided to treat you a little.” He answered with a smile, his eyes, full of love and adoration, were focused on you. It was touching really, how he organized a date for no reason because he wanted to get closer to you and make you feel happy, but that was just Rafayel for you, your playful, loveable, boyfriend.

“Really? You didn’t have to, I would be happy even if we just sat down on the couch in your studio, you know that, right?” You felt a little surprised but also so charmed by that simple action. It was cute how he thought of doing this for you but you also were a little worried, he worked so hard on this, but did you really deserve it?

“I know, but I wanted to spoil you, you deserve it, my love.” He gently took one of your hands that was previously by your side and intertwined your fingers, before placing the hand on his heart. You could feel how fast it was beating, all for you.

“If I can make you feel better by spending a little money and time on preparing this, then why wouldn’t I do it? There is nothing I love more than having you next to me, there doesn’t need to be a reason for this.” The soft feeling of his hand on yours, his fingers gently brushing against your knuckles and that gentle smile seemed to make your worries almost disappear. 

Rafayel then gently leaned for a kiss, but stopped a millimeter away from your lips. He looked at you with half lidded eyes for a moment, and you could notice the gentle freckles on his face, before he finally put his lips on yours when he saw your expression, and it was as if time stopped.

The rest of the night was full of laughs, good food and wine and after this date, there were many more to come, because in Rafayels mind - there didn’t need to be a reason to make his most precious person in the entire world happy.

[hergurlc]

—MOONCOVEY—

Don’t mind me as I yap away my feelings about MOONCOVEY in season2 of XO Kitty cuz I can’t stop watching their arc and their slow burn or hold it in anymore🥹😅😂

Kitty and Minho are starting to finally align themselves with their feelings for each other but their timeline is off so the timing just needs to be right for the both of them and their situations which I think is so close but also not quite yet. Both their feelings are clear(at least to the us) yet very complicated and scary in a vulnerable type of way. They’ve been maneuvering and tip toeing around their feelings, being considerate and supportive of each other while also continuing their good banter and protecting their bonded friendship.

Ultimately this is Kitty’s story and journey and we get to see many things play out thru the lens and perspective of Kitty and girrrrl has been through just A LOT. She has all the right to find herself and be herself in the way she wants. Her life may be chaotic and she may go about things in a chaotic way but everything she does is ultimately out of the big of her heart. She values family, connection, her friends and she loves love and wants that for everyone she cares about including herself (and Minho as we’ve seen in both seasons is someone attentive enough to know that and values that). She can give to so many people but that can also hurt her cuz not everyone can give the same to her as we’ve seen so far.

For Kitty, her feelings for Minho took time. It built up when she didn’t even know it. I think his plane confession did do something to her but we all know she had way too much to sort thru to really try and accept that. However, with time, she recognizes how much he’s been there for her even at her most vulnerable and she wants to do the same for him. She got worried and protective when Stella put him and his family in danger. She wanted to look out for him as a friend but then ended up getting jealous. She was so bothered by their fight to the point that the distance made her miss him. When she realizes her feelings, she doesn’t want to hurt him and she’s hesitant, ‘repressing’ and ‘terrified’ to put herself out there when things are still so complicated and especially when his heart and mind aren’t in the best place after everything that happened with Stella, etc.

Kitty is someone who has a hard time figuring out her own true feelings but when she does, she ultimately will always go with her heart and I don’t think it really hit her until Minho walked away after their hug at the end there and her heart was pounding outside of her chest. It’s probably just me but that scene felt symbolic and after everything they’ve been thru, I could feel like she felt a little pain at the thought of either 1.)Losing him, 2).Not seeing him, 3).Not having him around or 4).All of the above and that’s when her heart jumped into action of asking him if she can join him. It’s subtle yet safe and very Kitty coded. If one little fight caused her to miss him, imagine losing him all together. Honestly, I’d love to see Kitty do the chase now. She needs to confess and align their timeline before it’s too late cuz girl was about to be too late if she didn’t stop him!!

Minho..oh our Moon Minho. He holds a strong front and can go with the flow but he’s been through so much emotionally and internally too. He’s tried to move on but he literally loves Kitty. It’s clear as day. He’s held back and tried to figure out on his own how to be okay and move past his feeling but the truth is, he gave his heart to her a while ago and it never really came back. He loves and accepts her as her even when they’re in a banter or when he’s there just as a friend or when he’s mad at her for overstepping.

He’s soo protective of her and will do anything to support and help her without crossing the line. He’s been hesitant and careful of his feelings bc from his POV it’s one sided and she doesn’t feel the same. I think he’s also taking her words about ‘thinking twice before doing anything impulsive’ to heart which is respectable of him and his growth (but pretty ironic of Kitty cuz she’s almost always impulsive on a lot of things😂). He’s already admitted his feelings once(or twice) and even tho he doesn’t know she’s truly developed feelings for him too, he doesn’t want to put her and himself (and maybe even Dae) in another difficult (or heartbreak) situation. We see him at the end there taking those ‘long walks’, thinking about things, clearing his head and basically deciding to start fresh by swearing off relationships and joining his dad and brother for the summer etc. yet (at least to me) every time I watch that last scene; the way he was and the way he kept looking at her just felt almost sad or solemn. I could dig into it foreverr but some of his smiles were smiles just to smile and right before walking away he takes a slight breath and it’s like he had concluded he loves her but has to let her go(romantically). That is until she stops him to join him and we’re all left to imagine for ourselves. But like Sangheon said in an interview, it’s also something Minho wouldn’t just say no to and he’d just go with the flow….and this is where I wish we had Minho’s lens and perspective cuz I bet his feelings are so jumbled, happy, confused but like didn’t you also just spend days walking the gardens to clear your mind?? I need to know!!!

Anyway, one last thing I will say about the ending scene of S2 is that we’re very lucky it gave us more hope for Kitty and Minho than leaving it with confusion, questions or frustrations. We can still naturally have those feelings but the screen could have gone dark with her watching him walk away or right after she said “maybe it’s not our time” but no, even tho Kitty may have been terrified of her own feelings the writers/producers gave us hope by having her continue her train of thought and going after what her heart wanted(to be/go with him). It was just enough butterflies to lead into a season 3 but if for some odd reason it doesn’t get renewed, that ending (in my opinion) would have still been a happy ending too.

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XLIV. “trailhead”

parts: previous / next

plot: Bruce is on your trail, making things that much more complicated.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, spoilers for The Penguin (2024), mention of murder, missing person, yearning/pining

words: 7.7k

a/n: i love the little subtle moments i included in this chapter, they’re down Atrocious but they gotta get some work done, why must falling in love bring such insistent feelings?? how cruel ;)

You’d hardly seen eyes so wary, almost pleading. You tucked your hands between your thighs to warm them, his icy blues chilling the tension. After this you needed to steel yourself to their charms; you feared it was beginning to be a slippery slope. “Sure.”

“Do you know anything about the mob families here?” 

You shook your head and leaned in slightly when he took a deep breath. “There were two major ones: the Falcones and Maronis. They ran some drug operations, have money in different parts of the city.” 

How could he possibly distill a city’s entire criminal underworld into a few sentences? 

“Oz Cobb, he’s sometimes called ‘Penguin’. Was the driver for the Falcones, mostly their daughter. Seemed to be on good terms until Falcone’s arrest. When Falcone died, Oz took over his operations, took out the Maronis.” He took great care to keep his voice leveled and calm, though even mentioning the Penguin in your presence felt like a violation to the point he could hardly think.

He gathered the bowls and they clinked in the sink. “After that I couldn’t keep track of him. Second I’d catch him, send him in for another murder, bombing, didn’t matter: released same day.” He grimaced when he tried to gauge your unreadable response. He continued, desperate to get the information downloaded into you so the conversation could be over with. “Doesn’t matter about proof. Oz could walk into a courtroom, shoot the judge, and get away with it.”

Your brow furrowed. “If he really turns on anyone, how does he have that much power? Wouldn’t no one trust him?” 

He paused, very glad he’d brought this up if you were already confused. “That’s it: do what he says or get killed.” He hesitated, a sudden meekness affecting his posture. “That’s why I was worried you met with him. He’d shoot you before you realized what was happening.”

You didn’t doubt he was right, but you hadn’t met anyone who seemed like a kingpin, let alone anyone who set off alarm bells… outside of Dr. Crane and the dude walking out of there.

“If he’s on your trail we can’t be seen together. Could use you as leverage.”

“Is he trying to get at you?” 

Bruce shot you a knowing look, then spoke like the words hurt him. “I’m a Wayne. If he finds a weak point, he’s exploiting it.”

“And I’m the weak point?” 

“Before the interview, the only public association I had was my parents. I don’t even think anyone knows about Alfred.”

Your palms sweated. Ah, fuck. “You can’t tell anyone this. It could literally kill people.” 

His teeth dug into his tongue, nervous. “Promise.”

You launched into a brief explanation of what the journalist told you. What you knew of them, what they knew of you, and that they said you needed to leave Gotham while you still could. Watching Bruce's reaction showed his poker face was practiced. You didn’t know what he might say until he gave a slow nod.

“I agree.” 

Of course he wants me to leave. “I thought you could help me look into it.”

“You’ve already been a target just from interviewing me. If you’ve run into Oz since city hall, chances are it’s not by accident.” 

“If there are journalists disappearing or getting murdered, I want to see where it leads.”

He stared at you blankly, voice flat. “You’re a journalist.”

Silence rotted the air as you stood at a standstill. Your next sentence was muttered against stifled morale. “I guarantee you no one else had Bruce Wayne and Batman at their disposal.”

He resisted the overwhelming urge to curse and shove his head in his hands, instead channeling his frustration to the inside of his cheek. You had him backed into a corner; it had been disastrous every time he prized an argument over putting you in danger. “I don’t know.” But he did—he did know, and playing along wasn’t right. 

He chanced a look from across the kitchen island. The edge that longed to bleed into his voice softened at your guardedness. “I think you need to leave.”

The worst part of this was that he wasn’t wrong. What’s leaving a few days early? The safest thing would be to go home and keep your head down a little while, and you could. Bruce having paid your family’s debt would lower the stress of getting into a career straightaway… 

He fell in thought with you, each passing second settling more anxiety into your sentiment: you thought you were safe because you had him. His fallibility hadn’t ever bothered him—if he died fighting some criminals, at least he went down swinging. But for you to say it brought his insecurities to the forefront like an impenetrable slab of concrete. If you were correct, and he existed as a forcefield when he was around you, he still couldn’t be 24/7. “What’s to stop them hitting your apartment next?”

“… I don’t know.”

He drank you in with a longing glance. “You need to go.” 

“Tons of new journalism students are here because of me. I can’t let them into a trap and go home.” You were strained, weary, with a hint of desperation to your voice. 

“It wasn’t you. Vry pressured both of us.” 

“And I could’ve said no. I was already home.”

“If you leave, I can look into things. Report back.” Your face didn’t shift from its stressed clench. If only you’d told him about the meeting; he could’ve outfit you with the earpiece at the very least, be able to know precisely what they said rather than paraphrased muck. He sensed something you weren’t telling him. 

“What if they track me home? They said I needed to hope it was far enough.” 

That wasn’t it. 

“And that it might be protective I’m associated with you. Said they target people coming here for scholarships. People without any associations, let alone a billionaire. Probably make me less easy to kill.”

That wasn’t it either, though his mind began to wander fretfully at the prospect of your murder. You’d made half a point, because most people tended to go for the easier victim—but they also went for the enticing one. What was more enticing than managing to snipe (god, he could vomit) an associate of the Waynes? 

But Oz targeting you was a different crowd, pushing the edges in your favor. The man had contacted him a half-dozen times since the flooding to get drinks, visit a club, ‘talk business’. For all of Oz’s criminal behavior, and how much he demanded of everyone else in the city, he was never anything but polite towards Mr. Wayne. 

Your gaze was insistent, and he relented. Oh, he hated having to acquiesce. “Who knows you live in this apartment?”

You lit up. “Just Mar. And her friend Gianna who picks her up sometimes.”

“Are your paychecks mailed?”

Your eyes dropped to skim the table. “I guess GU has me in their system.” 

He ran his hands through his wet hair, thinly veiling his frustration. “You can’t stay here.”

“If I change apartments I’m in the same situation.”

“I’ll get another one for you through the election if we find anything.” 

More than anything else, his going along convinced you that the Penguin was an absolute terror. You worried your bottom lip as you rethought the entire affair.

“Same complex, different floor. If anyone is tracking you, you’ll be entering the same building.” 

Had he done this before? “They’ll see me coming in and leaving, they’ll know exactly how to track me.”

“They’ll find out wherever you are if it’s that crowd. This way draws less suspicion. Makes it seem like you aren’t onto them.”

“What about the journalists?”

“I can look into that.” He grabbed his keys from the counter. 

“I need to help.”

He knew you wouldn’t drop this. Knew it would be another argument. Knew you had a point about the new students. Fuck. “We have to be careful. Neither of us can be in the field.” He grimly referred to his alter ego. “Only him.”

“Thank you.”

He walked to his bag and tucked in what had tumbled out. He felt your eyes on him like a brand. Thanking him for putting you in harm’s way… 

“I thought you’d be more angry.”

He paused his walk to the door; your timid, grateful voice penetrated him like a velvet knife. “I meant what I said. I won’t talk to you like that again.”

And you stood like that for a beat, grinning at his back. “Where do we start? Google some things?”

“We can go to my place and see where it leads.” He hiked the bag’s handles over his wrist. “That journalist could’ve been wrong.”

“How late?”

“However long you want to stay.”

Alfred greeted you with a soft hello while you climbed the stairs to discard your things. Your sweats felt tight, baggy, and sweaty in all the wrong places, so you shimmied out of them into some old spandex. You rummaged around your bag to look for a hair tie and changed into a baggier top that didn’t feel constricting.

Having left at nine, you packed an overnight bag. Your toothbrush was gingerly packed in a side pocket without a travel case, a deodorant rattled against your wallet at the bottom, and you grabbed the perfume you’d tossed on top of everything at the last second. Your fingers brushed some decommissioned lingerie before you left your apartment, evoking memories of wearing it under a flirty dress for an ungrateful boyfriend a few Valentines’ ago. You’d nearly relegated yourself to a potato sack as penance for the split second you considered packing it for Bruce. You made a mental note to burn the offending items on your return. 

Short shorts and an oversized tee so long he had to sneak a double glance to see if you had pants on as you moved through the kitchen. He stepped to the side for you to sidle in, mind in a modest frenzy over how the moonlight draped across your face on approach. 

As he leaned forward to press DOWN, you couldn’t help but juxtapose to the last time you’d been in here. Picking lint off his shoulder, concerned that he might beat you up or otherwise throw you to the wolves. Now you fantasized about the force of his hands if he pushed you against its walls and regularly meandered up to the room you considered your own. 

Bruce followed the doors as they slid shut, considering which program would be best to—oh. His eyes fell shut as his mouth flooded with saliva. Long, slow breaths through his nose fluttered his lashes and nearly convinced him to press STOP. Whatever perfume you had on was more delicious than every one previous, combined. Why didn’t…

It felt like a million years ago at this point. Why didn’t he just kiss you yesterday? It would’ve been so easy to whisper it into your ear, he was already right there. What would he do now? Have to turn and face you, stand with his heavy hands limp at his sides, muster the courage to look right into your eyes while he asked? No, no way. 

“What’s going on?”

He was breathing too fast now, and you could tell. You could always tell. His hands flexed at his waist. A desperate part of him wanted you to see through him and do something about it so he could say whatever happened wasn’t his fault. Pretend these feelings weren’t real. 

“The elevator isn’t moving.” Your brow cocked, and he swallowed thickly. 

“Must be locked.” He fished keys out of his pocket, struggling to grasp the smallest one with tingly, clammy fingers. He slipped it into the lock, twisted, and the signature creak sounded the descent. 

Luckily the trip was short, because the elevator wasn’t air-tight. The subtle bursts of air from some chips in the siding wafted more of your scent right over him. Through him, more like. What was he, a fucking animal? This was ridiculous. Stupid. It was no different than lighting a candle. 

Maybe if he acknowledged it. Took its power away and normalized it. The doors opened and you stepped out. His head pounded as he said it like admitting a dirty secret. “I like your perfume.” 

You spun around, unable to hear him over the doors clicking into place. “Hmm?” 

Shit. He cleared his throat and made a beeline for his desk, holding his breath as he walked past you. “Didn’t say anything.”

You pulled up the only other stool in the place close enough your shoulders touched. He gripped his thigh as that warm, sweet scent enveloped him, snaring his throat shut. While he booted up the monitor, you glanced around the room. Times like these it was easy to see why he didn’t behave like the stereotypical billionaire; rusted old work lamps scuffed marks into his aged metal desk, endless crates situated below it with various notebooks and files somehow scrupulously organized and in disarray. Something nested in the rafters, cobwebs hanging high above them; if you took out some of the tech, it could pass for any old man’s work area in the countryside. 

You asked him for a notebook and pen, and he slipped one to you without thinking. The page you opened to had your name. Friday, May 31st. My identity has officially been compromised by... seeing your full name in his handwriting made you dizzy and you couldn’t read further, utterly transfixed. 

Bruce’s eyes bulged out of his head when he realized his mistake. “I uh, I was trying to make sense of things.” He peeked over your shoulder to remind himself of what he had written, praying it wasn’t horrendously mean—that week was a bleary streak in his memory—but you flipped to a clean sheet without fanfare.

“At least I’ll have some notoriety in your memoir.” You gestured toward the monitor and he clicked around, head thrumming. You followed the clip of his fingers on the keyboard, mind dancing with possibilities. 

His building arousal mistroked keys and stuttered on backspaces. It was inappropriate, filthy even, given the circumstance. Normally he could easily get desire out of his system by himself, but not with you; each time seemed to only amplify it. He’d never felt so compelled to be intimate with someone. Like his body pleaded to be given a voice, needing to say things that couldn’t be expressed any other way.

You clenched the pen until your knuckles bloomed light from the tension. The cognitive dissonance was brutal; being horny around him was ego-dystonic enough, but while delving into research about missing journalists? Cruel and unusual punishment. 

“Found something.” Bruce pulled up a photo from a GU article in 2022. You were jolted back to reality looking at a blue-eyed blonde with shoulder-length curls. She couldn’t be older than twenty. “Kendall Brandy. Reported missing in the flood. Body never recovered.”

“Were all bodies recovered though?” You jotted down her name and a few details. 

Bruce shook his head. “But look.”

The screen filled with a court record. A cease and desist filed against her from Arkham. “Two weeks before the flood.” The title of the article to be removed from her devices and all publishing plans was: Undercover: Arkham State Hospital Negligence. 

He clicked another tab over while you bullet-pointed beneath her name. How had he managed to gather this in two minutes? “She volunteered there over the summer.”

“Jesus…” you mulled it over for a moment. Bruce wrote something down on a notepad. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?” He kept writing.

“What could’ve made Arkham look worse than it already does? Enough to kill someone over?” You’d heard endless jokes on Scypher about how shitty the hospital was, and how much of a ‘lost cause’ their patients were. You’d been surprised they hadn’t cared when Bella was seizing, but that was hardly reason to kill. “Have they had shitty audits?”

Bruce resumed typing, pulling up Arkham’s entire registry in seconds. “Already been through them for other cases. Nothing out of the ordinary. Especially for the city.”

“What if the auditor was paid off?”

“Could be.”

His computer started to resemble an oracle. “Can you find out?”

He got to clicking, and typing, and you followed his pupils darting across the screen. You were mesmerized by his efficiency. How many days, weeks, months of his life had been spent honing his craft? Not five minutes later he pushed his notebook to you. 

He’d listed incredibly intricate details ranging from the year the auditor graduated, his major, his family relations (including his favored breed of dog), their lengthy history with the Falcones and Maronis, eventually landing him a job performing audits on various institutions around the city. Apparently his entire family had died in the flood. “There’s autopsy documents. None for Brandy.”

“But wasn’t the flood connected to one guy? Who already said why he did it?”

“Edward Nashton.” Bruce grit his teeth as he said the guy’s name. “Nothing more to get out of him. Already tried.”

“And if the mob families are dead,”

“Most of them.” He put down the pen. “Sofia Falcone’s still alive.”

You dragged his keyboard toward you and looked her up. Seemingly endless articles cropped up detailing the murders committed a decade ago, nestled next to ones directly proceeding the flooding. Gassing her loved ones, murdering a journalist from the Gazette when they tried to bring justice to her previous victims… your tone was slightly sarcastic as the depth of the situation rang a quiet alarm. “If she murdered her family, probably means she doesn’t like them.”

“Or she wanted it for herself.” You were funny, and he might’ve played along if the stakes were any lower. 

“Have you met with her?”

“They don’t let her take visitors.” 

“Has that stopped you before?”

Bruce shut his notebook with a snap and killed the monitor. “That’s enough for tonight.” 

“It’s been like half an hour,”

“And you’re already talking about breaking into Arkham. Speaking to a Falcone.” 

You reached around the back of the screen where he had, unable to find the ON switch. “If people have been funneling money to Arkham,”

“How do you know that?” Your slip of the tongue caught his attention. You blurted what the journalist had told you about Bella Reál, and his brow furrowed. “I looked into her disappearance, couldn’t find anything.” 

He turned the screen on and worked through more tabs. He didn’t write anything down this time. When he eventually sat with his head in his hands, studiously thinking, you searched for Oz Cobb. The man from Arkham stared back at you. “Him?”

He measured his tone, curious about your strong response. “From City Hall, yeah.”

And Arkham. “What’s his deal?”

“Runs a few clubs downtown. Pushes Drops. Seems to be it… at least that’s all I can find on him.” He moved something from the desk to his Batmobile. His voice echoed. “Took over the mob’s business. Moved his operation into their neighborhoods.”

If there was any time to tell him, it was now. When at the very least you could throw his apology in his face if he got mad. “I visited Bella earlier.” Not saying how much earlier, or how I was summoned. “Ran into Oz there. He was headed out.”

“Did you hear anything?” He walked toward you with his signature scrunched, concentrated expression. It made it a little easier to tell him these things when he looked so cute. And when he wasn't screeching at you in an alleyway. You shook your head. 

“He asked me how I was, then he left.”

Bruce went still. “Didn’t try to rope you into anything?”

“No. Just left.” 

“What did Reál say?”

“I guess I tried to visit.” It was crucial you stopped talking as soon as possible.

“Arkham…” Gears were turning behind his eyes, and regret slammed the back of your throat. He’d managed to unearth the full medical history of strangers in minutes, he could certainly rifle through a call log from the head of psychiatry. He sat back on the stool and changed tabs. Please don’t, please don’t… 

He loaded up the staff page of Arkham, sorted alphabetically, and you twitched when he clicked the first result: Crane. “I don’t know,”

He jotted some things down. What things is he writing? 

“Maybe we could check if there are any other missing journalists? Maybe it was just a one-off.” One-off? Someone was murdered and they’re covering it up. You were too anxious by this point though, concerned with a strange sense of self-preservation that took up all remaining brain power. “Arkham seems like a really difficult place to start,”

“I think you’re onto something.” He scribbled something more. What am I onto? What is he onto? “I didn’t know that about Reál.” Every strike of his pen made you vibrate.

“I don’t know if we can even trust that person; I mean, meeting me in the middle of the night, being weird and cryptic.”

“Crane was there when I met with Vry about graduation…” he bulleted more notes in his slanted handwriting you couldn’t decipher from this angle. He was connecting dots. Dots that couldn’t be connected yet. 

“Bruce,”

He focused intently between the screen and his notepad. More scribbles. 

“What are you writing?”

“I’ll show you in a minute.”

You couldn’t survive a minute. You bit your tongue and looked around, pretending to be bored, yawning to pretend you weren’t wired, anything to stop every etch of his pen striking the paper from peeling your skin. “Want to watch a movie?”

He didn’t hear you, too busy writing. 

You noticed tools on the ground by his vehicle. “What’s wrong with the car?”

“Brake pads.” He kept writing. Opened a new tab to research Jonathan Crane. 

It was a matter of days, maybe weeks, before he found you out. How would he take it? Would he do something drastic? Undo all his progress? Hurt himself again? You felt like crying. Even if he didn’t find you out—which you were certain he would at this point—you’d created an environment where he was suspicious of his care team. Dangerous territory. 

“I need to set up a meeting with him.”

You choked on the spit that had accumulated on your tongue. “But he’s your doctor,”

“Exactly. Inconspicuous.” He flipped his notepad closed. You stared at it like a grenade. “A follow-up appointment will give me access—”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Picking your nails, biting your cheek. He discovered a new tell: bouncing your leg. You were a ball of anxiety. “Then we can get in. Search around.” He thought it would calm you that he’d found a starting place. Maybe rev you up, get you excitedly asking a million more questions. Was nothing he said coming out right?

You sounded frail, beaten. “Mixing the two when you’re so early into treatment, I don’t…”

In these moments two polarizing emotions struck each half of his body in equal measure: defensiveness and accommodation. He tried not to show that he was deflating like a punctured balloon. It didn’t feel like being early; it felt like a month of getting used to taking a medication that made him nauseous every morning and nights spent staring at the ceiling in agony, wondering when or if his mind would slip again. Living in a constant state of uncertainty he kept trying to bury. Your brows knit together. “Please.”

He nodded after noticing your shaking hands, setting aside a snarky, insecure comment about being infantilized. “Okay.”

You averted your eyes, the argument you thought you’d have choking out your throat. Your eyes wet knowing in a week’s time you’d be gone and he’d find out, spending the rest of his life hating you. Such a sure future made the present feel flimsy and fake, each kindness afforded by him landing like a gut-punch.

“We could search for more journalists.” Bruce was quiet, his tone almost restrained.

“I don’t know how you even found Kendall.” You’d misjudged his talents, leaving you feeling like dead weight even without the guilt scarring your stomach lining. You searched the code scrawled across the screen, the mysterious buttons scattered around the desk, and sat back on the stool in defeat. Your limbs felt lead-lined.

Bruce moved slowly to his seat as the room’s tension rose. “It’s easier than it looks.” A sideways glance at your dejected face, then a pause. “Here.”

He spent the next half hour depreciating his expertise, pulling up various softwares and programs that he assured did the brunt of his bidding. The one in the top left corner of his desktop cross-referenced this database, the one in the bottom right did another, and one in the middle synthesized the two. One button limited to the Gotham area and related publications, the other was nationwide. Often, he explained, a missing person’s report would be filed in the home state of the potential victim. He demonstrated by walking through what he’d done for Kendall.

You wrote notes for it all, but he was flying through it. Going through various directories, filtering by major, pasting groups of names, plugging cross-referenced photos into facial recognition from surveillance cameras throughout the city, and following the rabbit hole that took him down. Your head spun.

“Do the police have this tech too?”

His eyes shimmered with something like mischief. “It’s not exactly legal.”

“Right.” Your eyes skimmed the room full of armor and gadgets, and back to the man notating beside you in your hoodie. A watery grin painted your lips. “Unlike being a vigilante.” 

It got a low chuckle out of him. He pasted a mile-long list of student’s names into one of the programs. 

“What do you like about doing this?”

He hesitated, a bit remorseful. What he did was intrusive and illegal, and he was keenly aware it appeared to be a moral inconsistency. “It's the way I know how to help. Utilizing what I’ve been given.” He grinned, barely. “Like you said. Not everyone has the time.”

He typed something you couldn’t be bothered to divert your attention to, soaking him up. He was so good. “Thought you just liked puzzles or something.”

He teased you back as he wrote names on a sticky note. “Not as shallow as you think.”

“Now you’re posturing.” 

“Here’s the time-consuming part.” Bruce stood and rolled his shoulders back, cricking his neck. The screen loaded something at a snail’s pace. “It hits all the cameras in the city. Could take a couple hours with this many photos.” 

“You found posters?” In his speedy tutorial, he’d shown you how he matched names to missing person’s reports, then their posters, scraping their photos to plug into recognition tech. 

“A few dozen.”

“That many missing journalists?”

“Never know how many match, could be zero.” He motioned upstairs. “Hungry?”

Your mind immediately shot to Rai’s; particularly how you’d never get to see him again in just a few days, and how much you’d neglected him spending so much time with Bruce. You opened your phone to check the time. A late-night trip hadn’t happened in ages now, only when you were with Mar. It suddenly felt like a bucket-list item.

Your attention caught on a motorbike parked to the right of the desk. “Can we get takeout?”

You shouldn’t have gotten takeout. Rai’s food was good, but it wasn’t worth this.

Turned out his bike was single-occupant; after forcing you to wear the only helmet he owned, interrupting your plans for the wind to zip through your hair and sting your cheeks, you found yourself sitting on his lap with his hands over yours to steer. You tried not to think about the ride. 

Immediately he knew the bike was a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake. Feeling the weight of you spread across his thighs was a constant threat. He wouldn’t let himself think about what would happen if he weren’t using ninety percent of his energy to dissociate from his physical form. 

The electricity of being flush with him, his frame encompassing yours in a way that felt devastatingly consuming, feeling every twitch of his hands as he worked Gotham’s back streets. The ride was only five minutes, but your mind had slipped to how accessible you both were twice as many times. How the only thing separating you wasn’t distance or position, but thin—and in your case, embarrassingly thin—layers of clothing. 

A pothole virtually succeeded in the final unraveling; if you hadn’t drowned the other out by reacting at the same time, and the wind been any less loud, he would’ve heard your yelp and you his gasp as your ass bounced hard against him. 

As it stood, the rest of the trip was spent still as statues, both of you holding your breath. It was hell on the dismount, having to scoot across his crotch to gain footing. You bit your cheek as penance for sneaking a glance at the dark sweatpants that left things a disappointing mystery. He readjusted his sunglasses and cinched the hood.

The city pulsed silently around both of you, present but unobtrusive; he hardly registered the veils of black between streetlights as you led him toward the mystery shop. His focus was tethered tightly to you, caught up in your lively intonation breaking the traffic noise. 

You skipped across a stray plastic bag and the momentum caught the wind in your hair, its shine slipping the lights. Palpitations fluttered beneath your sweatshirt he hadn’t yet replaced and didn’t want to; you looked over your shoulder and mimed for him to keep up. With no one around he could feel the wind on his skin, on parts of his body that never felt it this late in the day. Feelings like this made everything complicated. 

Walking at night was always terrifying, but not with him. There was a freedom to his presence that raced the cool air straight to the bottom of your lungs. Without thinking, you reached for his arm to pull him faster. By the time you’d gripped his wrist and a rod of unbearable tenderness leapt through you, you couldn’t very well drop him. “Slowpoke.”

Soft bells chimed as you pushed through the deli door, threading him through in the same motion. A teenager holding a massive fountain drink nearly toppled into you, and a giggle bubbled up as you swerved. You blinked to orient your eyes to the bright overheads just as Rai entered your vision. He was the only Gothamite who could make you break contact with Bruce, and you launched into a hug. 

A tight embrace, toothy smiles, and immediate prattling. His eyes narrowed, shared happiness and a jealous knot fighting for dominance. He clasped his hands. 

“This is Rai.” You laughed and gestured toward him. Bruce bristled, but stepped forward with a rehearsed grin.

“Pleasure.”

Rai nodded at him, refusing further acknowledgement. He winked at you and Bruce felt faint. “Baby, you gotta keep your location on being out this late.”

Baby?

You slugged the man’s arm and laughed. Bruce’s gut cinched tighter than he thought possible; tight enough it scared him. You wandered down the nearest aisle. He grit his teeth and followed, body vibrating.

You never mentioned a boyfriend, but he’d never asked. Though—you called him, not the boyfriend, when you needed help. Odd. You rifled through some chips while he debated whether to mention it. 

“How long have you been together?” Casual. No big deal.

You chuckled again, and moved to the next aisle. His brow furrowed. Starting to feel like a big deal.

You acted as though he hadn’t said anything, directing attention to which bag of candy he preferred. He would’ve eaten a pound of raw meat if you only answered; this limbo was physical pain. 

Was it weeks? Months? He picked out a seasonal redbull for his contribution and tossed it into the small basket you handed him between the snack and drink aisles. A few years?

Somehow he had braved the store and handed the cash to your boyfriend without passing out. He’d seen the man before, but couldn’t place him. Dark hair, darker eyes. He thought of how pale and washed-out his were in comparison. At the least, he’d never run into the guy on patrol. Someone who kept his head down. 

You said something to the object of your affection and reached over the counter for another hug. He kissed the side of your cheek closest to your ear. Bruce’s flushed pink. Wasn’t this good? Normal, yeah? Even his internal monologue was going pitchy. 

The boyfriend pulled out a bag and Bruce flinched. “We don’t need one.” 

He watched your eyes flit to the pile of snacks that definitely needed a bag, but he was already scooping it into his arms. You said goodbye and held the door open. Officially out in the open air, he had no idea what possessed him to want to balance ten items while steering a motorbike.

You razzed him once the door closed. His cheeks burned. 

“We have a running joke.” You skipped ahead, then folded back when you remembered he was juggling a basket’s worth of goods. “Whenever I come in with a strange man, Rai pretends to be my boyfriend. Safety thing.”

Your hands swung at your side from the residual momentum, not seeming to need all the caffeine you’d loaded into the cart. He stared at you. “I’m not mad.” 

“Why would you be?”

Backtrack! Redirect!! “I’m a strange man?”

“Absolutely.” You gave his anonymous frame a once-over. 

Thankfully you steered the conversation from there, his pulse hammering in his temples as he processed his relief. Bruce wasn’t keen to know what situation had prompted such protocol, but it was nice of your friend. He’d been convincing enough.

“He’s great. Used to hang there all the time. His cooking is absolutely incredible, shocked his store isn’t always packed.”

The memory crept to him. “Think he catered a meeting once.”

You laughed again. You laughed a lot when talking about that guy. Your hair fell into your face with a particularly harsh gust of wind and he felt an instinct to push it back, but his hands were tied. These feelings were foreign and bizarre.

“That’s actually what made me want to interview you. His sister was working the place, said Bruce Wayne gave them a bonus.” You whispered his name like there was anyone else on the block. 

“You’d never heard my name before then?” ‘Bruce’ sounded like honey on your lips; Christ, he loved hearing you say it and could never let you know. 

You shrugged, making your case as you reached the crosswalk. “I was desperate for a topic and that meant you’d probably be there.”

“So you tackled me.”

“Those steps are steep, man.” 

You both giggled waiting for the traffic to change. How many nights would end like this, and how many more could he squeeze in before you left and took the light with you?

“Speaking of,” the signal changed to WALK. He mirrored your pace, shortening his strides. The drinks jostled together with each step. “What are your plans through the election?” 

You wrapped your arms around your chest in a makeshift hug as you scurried to the sidewalk. Nerves dampened your volume. “What do you mean?”

“If you want to keep working on things, we could do every Thursday. Tuesday and Thursday, maybe. I’m meeting with March this Wednesday, could pick you up after?” Could it come out any clunkier?

“Maybe.”

“Or whatever works with your schedule. No pressure.” 

You could’ve laughed at the irony of him quite literally being your schedule if you weren’t so pathetically guilty. You meditated on the jagged cracks in the sidewalk slipping below your feet.

“Something going on?” 

“No.”

Half a block passed before he broke the silence. “What do you want to do when we get back, while we wait?” He counted almost a minute more before throwing a bone. “Watch something, eat some snacks,”

“I’m actually, I’m tired. I think I’ll tuck home.” You cleared your throat and anxiously raked your fingers through your still-damp hair. 

“Sure, I’ll drop you off.” He was off-kilter today and kept missing your cues. Did you not want to hang out with him? He glanced at the two teas you’d grabbed for the evening and decided making it personal was stupid. You wouldn’t have brought a bag and got snacks if you planned to ditch.

“I’m sorry.” You bit the inside of your lip until it bled. 

“Don’t be.” Quick glances revealed a tense, stressed face, and the glaze in your eyes said you were half present. He mulled over questions to get to the bottom of things, but they all felt ill-timed. 

The silence continued until Bruce couldn’t take it anymore. Seconds passed like hours as he struggled to comprehend how to help. He couldn’t very well put his arm around you, hug you, and—god forbid—kiss your head, like he’d seen his dad do. What else did he do for her that actually helped? The memories grew blurrier by the day.

Maybe you required reassurance, ah! He looked to you with a charitable grin. “There’s always next week, week after. Whenever.” 

You made the brutal mistake of peeking at him and you practically broke in two. You held it together for three more cracks in the cement before your lip warbled and a sob slipped out. He couldn’t smile like that, not at you. You crouched and bent your body as compact as possible, a single spider’s web straining to contain your guilt. You had to tell him, rip this lie from your bone marrow.

Dr. Crane’s heavy presence slammed on your back when Bruce’s gentle hand touched your shoulder. “Don’t feel bad. We have time.”

His hand was strong and reassuring, warming a wide swath of your back. You wanted to scream, and angrily wiped tears with the arm of your shirt. Your sniffles echoed off the brick to your right.

“Are you okay?” 

“I just don’t feel good.” Fuck. Fuck! Your legs shook when you stood tall, shoving toward the bike. 

“Do you need anything? I could run back in.”

You wouldn’t let it out on him again. You faced him to make it harder—stood wearing your outfit, albeit the longest, baggiest ones, all the goods in his arms slanted to his left to free up his right hand. Reflected in his glasses was the state of you; disheveled, puffy-faced, and bare-legged, barely containing a sentence that would shatter everything. 

In through the nose, out through the mouth. 

He wondered if you were still having nightmares because of him. The headaches, turning in early, emotional cycling. Iris once told him—or rather, Alfred—that any unexpected burst of emotion was to be expected in times like ‘these’. He’d hated Alfred for years for his inability to leave him alone, but he was beginning to understand. He didn’t want you to isolate either. 

You stared at the bike like it was a torture device, though the alternative wasn’t a drastic improvement; he managed to stuff the snacks into bulging pockets, and you shut your eyes as you climbed on top of him. You kept them shut and hummed a song to yourself to distract, trying to convince your body it was perhaps floating and this was a strange dream. The helmet smelled like him; now less focused on his muscular thighs, it was an all-consuming scent. 

He hadn’t yet come to a complete stop when you started to slide off, yanking the helmet off and plunking it onto his lap. Distracted and desperate to escape before you cried again, the lobby door’s closing reminded that you hadn’t said goodbye, running off in a blink. 

This distraction kept you unable to think facing your locked door. A neighbor stumbled a few doors down and unlocked via the hotel-style card gifted at signing. You popped off the back of your phone case and heaved a sigh as you beeped yourself in. 

Against what felt like a hesitant conscience but could’ve been better judgement, you dialed Dr. Crane the minute the door locked behind you. It rang twice; not enough time to remedy the tears streaming in protest and shame down the round edges of your cheeks. 

“Good evening, Ms. Y/L/N.” There was something soothing about hearing a man’s voice that wasn’t Bruce’s. You choked out that he’d been fine tonight, to which he responded he was ‘glad’ to hear it. You tightened your grip on the phone. 

“So next weekend I’m free to go?”

The psychiatrist readily picked up on your nerves. “Do you have concerns?”

“No. Not really.”

“Does he have a packed schedule next week?” 

He was frustratingly nonchalant. “Just the rally and weekly meeting.”

“Right then.”

Rubbing between your eyes and pinching the nose bridge was only making things worse. Bodies weren’t meant to hold this much tension. “Oh, and meeting with one of the candidates on Wednesday. Lincoln March.”

You pulled back your phone to make sure the line was connected following an extended pause. “Philanthropist like his father.”

“Wants to make the city better I think.” 

“Ah.” Another pause. “Does he talk to you about his plans? Politics?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“A bit?”

“More than anyone else.”

Shuffling broke the line slightly, muffling his end. “Very well. Nice to know he has someone he can trust.”

“Actually I do have something.”

“Yes?”

Holding your breath kept your tears inaudible. “When can I tell him?”

“He has his pickup scheduled Thursday afternoon. Friday should work. Gives time for your absence to settle in without rumination.” Now you knew what the shuffling was—he was snapping something into a clipboard, writing something down with a clicky pen. 

“I mean, when can I tell him that I wasn’t the witness?” 

The silence that followed was cold, like you’d broken some sacred code. “Never. The spiral it would send him down would be catastrophic.”

Your heart fluttered, petrified by the chance you truly would never be able to get it off your chest. Would you have to carry this weight forever? “Even now that he’s doing better?”

“Especially so.”

Every time you saw his name, anytime anyone talked about him, anytime you saw his photos in magazines, news articles, or posts online. No heavenly release, no damnation to hell. An endless purgatory. 

He rubbed salt in the wound with his clarity. “Let me be clear: to tell a patient who suffers with paranoia and delusions that the circumstances surrounding their crisis was in any part fabricated is perilous. 

As I said before: this is a secret you must keep.”

You mustered a goodbye and crumbled to your knees. 

Bruce had just stepped into the kitchen when Alfred arrived. “Where’s the young lady?”

“Went home.” He dumped the snacks on the counter and roughly categorized them, feeling the nagging pull of the old man’s silence. God, he was plotting. 

“Are the two of you… going out?”

He slammed the drinks in the fridge and considered putting a bell on the man’s shoes. “No.” He huffed past, noting Alfred peering at him over his glasses. “Don’t know why you’re confused.” 

“Even me being in hospital couldn’t keep you from your duties.”

Bruce had half a mind to never bring you back here, and an even pettier urge to start responding to such inquiries as if you’d never existed. What ‘young lady’? Alfred, you must’ve seen a ghost. “The signal hasn’t been lit.”

“I was unaware your patrols were so exclusive.”

He grit his teeth. “What is this?”

“Only checking in, Bruce.” His unhurried gait brought him to his tea kettle; Bruce was so used to its scream he’d nearly forgotten the thing’s purpose. He used to take his bedtime tea at eleven, but it crept closer to twilight with each passing year. “You used to tell me things before I asked, you know.”

“Fine.” His arms slapped to his sides, stalled in the foyer. “I like her. That good enough for you?” 

Alfred’s eyes sparkled, the corners of his mouth turning up. He hadn’t anticipated an easy reveal, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. “Quite.” 

Bruce scoffed, taking the steps three at a time. He waited on his floor before climbing the additional levels to the theater room. Your blanket—his blanket—was folded neatly on the arm of the couch. Dory’s meticulous presence was additionally noted by the lack of fingerprints on the smooth black remote; he turned it over in his palm, not totally believing he’d spoken it out loud. Alfred wouldn’t dare tell, would he? He glanced again at the blanket. Only Dory, probably. 

His phone buzzed.

Forgot to thank you for the ride. 

No problem. When do you want your bag?

You texted plenty over the weekend; you rationalized it by saying it would help him acclimate to your physical absence and serve as a transition piece. Topics never strayed from small talk, which you were grateful for. Messages about the weather, chancing the occasional meme off Scypher (his reactions had evolved from ‘ha’ to ‘lol!’, which you were ridiculously proud of), and inconsequential updates on the research. You contemplated staying in touch with him this way and not having a hard break, but couldn’t parse whether it was more for you or him. 

By the weekend’s end, plane tickets were booked and Mar had claimed most of your apartment’s furniture via FaceTime. You’d sent an email to Dr. Vry about your impending absence, letting her know you’d turn in supplies and the final column by end of day Friday. More and more minutes passed staring out the window with a discordant longing. 

Bruce lit up your phone as you dug into Phish Food for dinner. “What’s up?”

“Hey.” Keys clacked in the background. “Might’ve found something worth looking into.”

“Like what?” Swirls of fluffy marshmallow caught your spoon. Perhaps you could sneak him a pint as a parting gift at City Hall. 

“Have you ever worn contacts?”