#i’m so busy but i managed to churn this one out this evening

[mmmairon]

smash bros taunting emote

[willowsnook]

miscommunication

can I get a salami and lettuce wrap please? tyyyyy <3

oscar piastri x coworker!reader

she isn’t you

—————————————————-

“I just don’t understand why we’re making a switch so late in the season,” you complained to Lando as you walked through the halls of MTC with him.

“It’s because I’m a handful,” he said cheerfully and you rolled your eyes. “I’m trying not to be insulted right now by you, but you’re making it hard.”

Snorting, you looked over at him. You both had just been informed that, effective immediately, you would be his PR manager moving forward, and Oscar would be getting someone new.

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” you argued. “We spend so much time together anyways.”

“Oh, I know. You’re just upset you don’t get to be around your crush,” he said, and you stopped him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I do not have a crush on him,” you said, eyes narrowed. “We are just friends.”

Lando smirked and you knew he had you. Okay, so maybe you had a little crush on Oscar, but who could blame you? He was attentive, kind, and very easy on the eyes.

“Uh huhh,” he drawled. “Please, I think everyone is happy now that we don’t have to watch the two of you obliviously flirt with each other anymore.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, following him into the cafeteria. You spotted Oscar sitting at a table with an unfamiliar girl, listening intently to whatever she was saying.

You and Lando made your way over there, sitting down at the table.

“Hey guys,” Oscar said. “This is my new PR manager, Stacy.”

You introduced yourself before subtly sizing her up. She looked like she was a couple of years older than you but was very pretty, which irritated you. To make it worse, she had an Australian accent.

“Are you from Australia?” Lando asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, not too far from where Oscar is from,” she replied.

You felt a twinge of jealousy as Oscar's eyes lit up at the mention of his home country. He and Stacy immediately launched into a conversation about their shared experiences growing up in Australia, laughing at inside jokes you couldn't understand.

Lando caught your eye and raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing your discomfort. You forced a smile and tried to focus on your lunch, but couldn't help glancing up at Oscar and Stacy every few seconds.

"So, how long have you been in PR?" you asked Stacy, trying to join the conversation.

"Oh, about five years now," she replied with a dazzling smile. "I've worked with a few different teams, but I'm really excited to be with McLaren. And of course, to work with Oscar."

She shot him a playful look, and he grinned back at her. Your stomach churned at the interaction and you stood up quickly, everyone looking at you in surprise.

“I just remembered that I have a meeting soon; I’ll catch you guys later,” you got out, and Lando shook his head in embarrassment for you.

—————————————————-

Lando actually was a handful to manage PR-wise, so your days were a little busier than they had been. You and Oscar hadn’t really talked much in the past couple of weeks, mostly because of how busy you were, and you were kind of avoiding him. It seems like every time you saw him, he was talking to Stacy and if you watched him smile at her one more time, you might die.

You had never been the jealous type, so these feelings were very confusing. You guys weren’t even dating, for God's sake.

It was after the sprint race in Brazil that you ran into Oscar as you had stepped out to see how bad it was raining.

“Hey, you looked good today,” you said and he smiled down at you.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I haven’t gotten to talk to you in a while.”

“Oh I know, I’ve been busy with Lando,” you said and he frowned.

“You two seem to be getting close,” he commented and you shrugged, turning back to watch the rain.

“He’s a handful.”

Oscar chuckled softly, leaning against the wall next to you. "Yeah, he can be. But he's a good guy."

You nodded, feeling the tension between you two. The silence stretched on, broken only by the patter of rain. You wanted to say something, anything, to break the awkwardness, but your mind was blank.

"So, how are you liking working with Lando?" Oscar finally asked, his voice careful.

You shrugged again. "It's fine. Different from working with you, of course."

"Different how?" he pressed, and you could feel his eyes on you.

"Just... different," you said lamely, not wanting to admit how much you missed working with him. "How's it going with Stacy?"

Oscar was quiet for a moment. "It's good. She's very professional."

"That's good," you replied, fiddling with your hands.

“I think they might move qualifying to tomorrow,” he said, and you nodded in agreement, seeing that the rain would not let up. Maybe we could grab something to eat when we get back to the hotel?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I’ll ask Lando if he wants to join, Stacy can come as well,” you said and his brows furrowed.

“Uhh-yeah, okay,” he said. You were too busy in your own head to hear the frustrated sigh he let out.

Dinner was torture for you as you watched Stacy shamelessly flirt with Oscar and you laid your head on Lando’s shoulder while watching the show. After that, you could tell something was irritating Oscar because anytime Lando said something, he either didn’t respond, glared at him, or gave a short reply. After paying the bill, you walked back with Lando, thinking about the night.

“What’d you do to piss him off?” You asked and Lando gave you an amused look.

“You didn’t notice the pattern?” He asked and your face scrunched up in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“He was perfectly fine until you leaned into me and then it was like a switch went off,” he said.

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” you muttered, not wanting to acknowledge any truth to that. “He was flirting with her all night, I don’t know why he would have cared.”

“She was flirting,” Lando corrected and you waved him off. “You drive me insane.”

“Likewise buddy.”

————————————————————————

Brazil on Sunday was a disaster, and Lando’s comments to the media that followed sent you into a spiral. You worked on a clarification statement for the rest of the night, and by the time it hit 10 p.m., you were exhausted. Finally, making it back to the hotel, you saw Oscar playing on his phone while waiting in the lobby.

“What are you still doing up?” You asked, moving to sit next to him on the couch.

“Waiting for you,” he said. “I knew you were going to be there late so I just put in a food order.”

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do that," you said softly.

Oscar shrugged, a small smile on his face. "I wanted to. It's been a rough day for everyone."

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion settle into your bones. "That's an understatement."

Just then, the hotel staff brought over a tray with covered dishes. Oscar thanked them and turned to you. "I hope you're hungry. I got us some pasta and garlic bread."

The smell of the food made your stomach growl, reminding you that you hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Starving, actually. Thank you, Oscar."

You both dug into the meal, eating in comfortable silence for a few minutes. It felt nice to just be with him, no distractions or other people around.

"So," Oscar said after a while, "how’s Lando?”

“Disaster,” you said sadly. “I called Max earlier to talk to him, I’m not sure what to do. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Me either,” Oscar said thoughtfully. “He beats himself up way too much.”

“I agree,” you said. “How do you do it?”

“I know what’s in my control and what’s not,” he said and you nodded along. “And I also use the people around me to lean on.”

At the last part, he looked deep into your eyes, and you blushed, looking down at your food.

“I’ve been avoiding you,” you blurted out and he looked at you in surprise.

“I know,” he said, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t like seeing her with you,” you admitted, looking anywhere else.

“She’s my PR manager,” he said confused. “Are you jealous?”

You didn’t respond to that and the corners of Oscar’s mouth lifted slightly.

“You of all people know that I have to spend time with her,” he pressed, not realizing the real root of your jealousy.

“Of course I know that,” you snapped, frustrated. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I miss getting to hang out with you.”

“She isn’t you,” he said, reaching out for your hand. “We have a good relationship, but it’s not like ours. I’m still here.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words and the gentle touch of his hand on yours. For a moment, you just stared at your intertwined fingers, trying to process what was happening.

You felt a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "I've been so stupid," you said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I let my jealousy get the best of me and I pushed you away."

"Hey, it's okay," Oscar said, squeezing your hand. "I probably should have made time for you sooner.”

“You’re my best friend Oscar,” you said, pussying out of confessing, and for a second, a deflated look flashed on his face before he recovered.

“You’re mine too,” he said with a forced smile.

——————————————————-

Back at MTC, you were in a good mood. Having seen Lando in the morning, you felt reassured that he was good. You stepped outside to take a walk after lunch when you overheard two voices from around the corner.

“You know what I still don’t understand?” You heard Stacy ask someone.

“What?” You heard the voice of the office administrator respond.

“He requested that she be moved from being his PR manager. I was originally supposed to come on as Lando’s but Oscar asked the team to switch it.”

Your blood froze as you eavesdropped, a million emotions running through your head. He didn’t want you to be his PR manager anymore? Betrayal washed over you and you felt tears fill your eyes. Subconsciously, your feet led you to keep walking to the parking lot and your car. When you shut the door, everything broke loose, and you rested your arms and head against the steering wheel as you cried.

God you had been so stupid. How could you have been so stupid to even entertain the possibility that he felt the same way?

Lando saw you walking towards your car and followed, knowing that you both had to be in a meeting in ten minutes. He pulled open your passenger door, thinking he could scare you, but he was caught off guard when your tear-soaked face looked over at him.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked, panicked, and that only made you cry harder. Leaning over the console, he grabbed your shaking body, pulling it into his chest. He rubbed your back as you cried into him, soon slowing down to only sniffles.

“He asked for me to switch to be your PR manager rather than continuing to be his,” you told Lando as you pulled out of his arms.

Lando gave you a confused look, “what do you mean?”

“I overheard Stacy telling someone that she was supposed to work with you, but Oscar wanted to make the switch,” you said, trying not to cry again.

“That can’t be true; he has just as big of a crush on you as you do on him.”

“Obviously not,” you laughed bitterly.

“But what about Brazil? He waited up for you.”

“Guilty conscience maybe,” you justified and Lando frowned. “I’m going home, will you tell everyone I just wasn’t feeling well?”

Lando nodded before squeezing your hand and leaving.

As he walked back into the building, he was on a mission. He had already texted someone that you and he were missing the meeting. Oscar was talking to a mechanic on the floor, and Lando walked quickly towards him.

“I need to talk to you,” he said coldly and Oscar was taken aback by his teammate's bluntness. The mechanic looked awkwardly between them before muttering that he had something to do and scurrying off.

“What’s up?” Oscar said.

“Did you request that y/n be moved to work with me?” He asked directly and Oscar’s eyes widened, caught way off guard.

“I did,” he said slowly. “How do you know that?”

“Y/n just told me,” Lando replied, crossing his arms. Oscar instantly paled, looking at Lando with disbelief.

“No,” he whispered softly. “How does she know that?”

“She overheard someone talking about it,” Lando told him, more gentle this time.

Oscar sunk into a nearby chair, putting his head in his hands.

“What did she say about it? y/n,” He asked quietly and Lando sighed, sitting next to him.

“It was hard to understand her because of how hard she was crying,” he murmured, and Oscar squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t understand why, though, I thought you liked her?”

“I do like her; that’s the problem,” he confessed, looking over at Lando. “I talked to HR, and they told me the only way I could pursue her would be if we didn’t work together directly.”

Lando’s eyes widened in realization and he laughed humorlessly.

“You are such an idiot,” he breathed out, amazed by Oscar’s stupidity. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“I wanted to,” Oscar snapped. “But then it happened, and she was avoiding me, and then she basically friendzoned me in Brazil, so it was never a good time.”

“Oh my god mate, she’s been in love with you since forever,” Lando complained.

Oscar's head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What? No, that can't be right. She told me I was her best friend."

Lando groaned in frustration. "Because she was scared to tell you how she really felt! She's been jealous of Stacy this whole time, thinking you two were flirting."

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, looking stunned. "I had no idea. I thought she was getting closer to you and..."

"And you were jealous," Lando finished for him. "You two are both idiots."

"Where is she now?" Oscar asked urgently, standing up.

"She went home. She was pretty upset," Lando replied.

Without another word, Oscar took off running towards the parking lot. Lando called after him, "You better fix this, mate!"

Oscar's heart was racing as he sped towards your apartment. You had been lying in bed on top of your comforter for the past 20 minutes, staring at the ceiling. Someone knocked at your door, and you ignored it, but they wouldn’t stop. Flinging open the door, there was Oscar. His heart broke at the sight of you, swollen eyes but still a fire in them.

“You are the last person I want to fucking see right now,” you seethed, and he flinched back. It would be easy for him to turn around and leave and have you hate him for the rest of your life. But he was done wasting time.

He pushed past you, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the living room, forcing you to sit on the couch in front of him. You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to speak.

“I asked for you to be removed as my PR manager,” he stated.

“I know.” You replied sourly.

“I was told that it was the only option to continue down the path I was on,” he said, and your anger faded into confusion.

"What path?" you asked, your brow furrowed..

Oscar took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair nervously. "The path where I could pursue you romantically without it being a conflict of interest."

Your eyes widened in shock, your arms falling to your sides. "What?"

"I've had feelings for you for a long time," Oscar admitted, his voice soft. "But I couldn't act on them while you were my PR manager. So I requested the switch."

You sat there, stunned into silence. Your mind was racing, trying to process this new information.

"But... Stacy..." you started, still struggling to understand.

Oscar shook his head. "There's nothing between me and Stacy. She's just my PR manager, I told you that. You're the one I want to be with."

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked softly. He sighed, moving to sit next to you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He countered and your face flushed.

“Fucking Lando,” you muttered. “You’re like a robot Oscar, how was I supposed to know you felt the same way?”

He considered this for a moment before reaching over to grab you and pull you into his lap. Your head settled in the crook of his neck as you relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Oscar murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "I should have been more open with you. I was just so scared of ruining our friendship if you didn't feel the same way."

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. "I've been in love with you for so long, Oscar. I thought you could never see me as more than a friend or coworker."

His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin. "I see you as everything, Y/N. You're my best friend, my confidant, the person I want to share all my successes and failures with. And now, I hope, something more."

Your heart was pounding as you leaned in closer, your noses almost touching. "Something more sounds perfect," you whispered.

Oscar closed the distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours.

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts Pt. 5

Pairing: F1!Driver!JasonTodd x Reporter!Reader

A/N: sorry for the late late late update 😭 i was having so much problems with trying to enjoy this series again that I felt that if i rushed it it would ruin the series for not just me but a lot of people. Thank you for all the patience and i hope u enjoy this much needed chapter. ENJOY and flowers for all of u 😫💐 like if you’re comfortable and please tell me your thoughts as the story continues <3

Check out the Racing Hearts Masterlist!

Word Count: 1.9k (sorry but i’ll work my way up again 💪)

Jason finally had time to check his phone. He removed any miscellaneous notifications he forgot to silent before getting to the track this morning, but he was checking for a familiar name and icon.

It was like a little surge was invading his bones. He couldn’t help smiling at your conversations, it was like he was back to a teenager nervously trying to talk to a crush, but he didn’t have a lot of experience with those.

The times he rarely did have a fling, he kept it private, left it before it could be a scandal that he would be chewed out for.

But this.

This was new. He knew it was different when he was trying to get any attempt to still make sure you were fine with being with him.

What really made his stomach churn was when he couldn’t bring you to the airport to see him off. It felt wrong to leave your place without you behind him, leaving you to kiss only him goodbye, but not asking to follow him to the airport.

He tried to brush off the feeling the entire flight, but he couldn’t squish the thought that he wanted you here. That other than a quick romance, he could talk to you about his personal life, and he was fighting to throw you on the next plane so you could watch him race.

Maybe a dramatic kiss after he won would be nice. But, that was too cliché.

While deep in his thoughts, Roy tried to peak over Jason’s shoulder, trying to see what he was looking at, but it was not smart to try that on such a tall man. All he could manage to see was an open browser with plane flights.

“You tryna leave me here by myself?” Roy calmly asked, keeping his eyes down at the phone.

Jason frowned, not surprised at the nosey man.

“You get a little friend and now you want to leave me?” Roy feigned tears, placing his hands gently onto Jason’s shoulders. “If you must, then go! I can get us a championship. I can handle that for us.”

Jason sighed, closing his phone.

“Shouldn’t you be watching Lian? Why are you bothering me and what are you talking about?” He asked.

“Lian’s always with the crew, she’s more interested in the buttons than behind the wheel—don’t try to distract me, I’m not stupid, Jaybird. I knew you were a two timer.” Roy pointed an accusing finger into Jason’s face. “I saw that interview and I know that look in your eyes. I even commented on that video.”

“Uh, huh.” Jason ignored him and walked away, this time looking back at his phone to try to type, not reacting to Roy’s antics.

“I’m surprised your brothers haven’t bothered you about it. Dick’s gonna be jealous when I tell him you’re trying to get a flight back for love.” Roy aimlessly followed Jason, adjusting the cap on his head as he playfully wiggled his brows.

“That dickwad is probably too busy hiding behind a badge for that. He needs to find better things to do than bother me.” Jason stopped pacing, looking back at the red hair tail that can’t seem to get off him. “And you need to watch your daughter and also stop bothering me.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Roy sung. “Just me and you on this track forever, plus Lian, never leaving each other while we embrace—with Lian, of course.” He opened his arms for a hug.

Jason gave Roy an impassive look, not bothered to even give him an expression.

Still with open arms and a smile on his face, Roy waited before a small voice shouted out.

“JayJay! JayJay!” Lian’s small shout catches Roy’s attention.

“My Lian!” Roy reached out to grab his daughter walking with one of the crew members, finally relieving them from their babysitting duty. “No Jaybird today, Lian, he’s trying to run away.” He cooed happily to his daughter as she laughed, large noise cancelling headphones were bouncing around her neck and a bright smile spread on her face as he booped her nose.

“I’m not—the flight isn’t for me.” Jason sighed, not willing to look at Roy fully in the eyes.

Roy’s eyes widened as he heard the admission. A small silence lingered.

Lian broke the pause by reaching out for Jason. She made small grabby hands before he immediately gave in to grab her underneath her arms, settling on his chest.

She whispered a small “JayJay” before laying her head down, exhausted from an hour of playing while Roy and Jason were busy racing in the practice sessions.

While Jason patted Lian’s back soothingly, Roy watched as the two most important people in his life were embracing. It brought a smile to his face.

“I’m happy for you, Jaybird.”

It was all that was said between the two as Lian closed her eyes, but Jason felt content. He was given support.

—

“I’m never afraid of the track, it’s the fastest you can ever be on the ground and I wanna be the best.” Jason spoke to the interviewer on your TV screen, the Australian sun surrounding his face.

“How important is this race for you?” The off-screen voice asked Jason.

“Every race is important. I’ve gotten RedBull multiple wins these past couple years and I want to add another one. I feel better than I’ve ever have.”

You sat on your couch, dinner in your lap, watching your partner on screen wave goodbye, giving one final dazzling smile while taking off to his car.

He looked like he was in his element, a kind of happiness that only sprouted in him from Formula 1. A kind of motivation used for racing.

“Welcome to another race of the Formula One World Championship. What a great weekend to continue a new season.” The introduction boomed from your TV, setting up the Sunday excitement, ready to end another race weekend.

Ding. Ding. Your phone notifications rung next to you as you took a bite of your dinner.

You: I told you to hold a peace sign to the camera, now you owe me dinner

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: *thumbs down your message*

You laugh at your phone screen.

You: Loser

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: *thumbs down your message*

You: Send me a picture of you in your gear

As you wait for the reply, your TV catches your attention. A driver you’ve never seen before now standing in front of the microphone.

“Todd? How is that guy a threat? He just hides behind the RedBull emblem, but he’s nothing but another racer.” The raspy voice sent a chill through you.

“Jason Todd is a back-to-back four-time World Champion, do you plan on breaking that streak?” The interviewer pressed on.

“Ha! Like that’s hard, did you see how he crashed his vehicle last year? Bet he wouldn’t want that happening again, huh?” The man’s voice twisted something in you.

Formula 1 did have it’s competitive moments, but how was someone like this rude man competing?

Ding.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: please I am more than my body

Despite Jason’s words, a flattering picture of him came in. A good look at his hands and body in the RedBull uniform. Gosh, you missed him.

You saved the photo with a smile on your face. A new lock screen.

You: don’t injure that pretty face of yours <3

“Thank you for the interview, good luck on your race.” The interviewer finished up, stepping in front of the camera to replace the rude driver.

You glanced up to get one final look at the screen, watching the rude racer walk away, expecting him to get bombarded with another interviewer and a brand new set of cameras, but he walked in a different direction, away from the crowd.

You were confused at the racer breaking the long chain of interviews happening on race day.

At the very edge of the camera, you could see the racer joining another man, adorned in a suit, turning his head sideways, but you couldn’t recognize who that was.

You whipped out your laptop. Maybe you missed an upcoming rookie the last year or there must’ve been a change you missed in the racing industry.

Your mind buzzed remembering the blurry man putting his arm around the rookie racer before your ringtone shouted at you.

Life is a Highway started to play as Jason’s contact picture brightened on the screen, a nice side view picture of his smiling face when you took him out for dinner.

You quickly picked up.

“Hey Jay! How’s Australia?” You gleefully asked, contrasting glancing back and forth to the TV screen and your laptop before the camera changed to the racetrack, no longer seeing the mysterious men.

“It’s fun when Roy isn’t talking his ass off.” Jason’s voice faded as he yelled at Roy to back off from him. “I gotta race soon, but I just wanted to hear ya before I had to leave. God, I miss you.”

Your breath hitched hearing Jason be so direct. You tried to reason with yourself that it was from the adrenaline before the race, but it made you feel like you were floating off the couch.

“I miss you too. Maybe when you have a chance to get back here, we can go out to eat like we normally do.” You suggested, a little more brightness in your voice.

You watched the compilation of Jason’s previous races playing on the screen. You saw him zooming down the narrow lanes at horrifying speeds as you heard him softly speak to you through your phone.

“I wanna fly you out here before then. I mean, I’ll be down for Vegas, but that’s too long. I gotta get you down here next to me.” Jason’s voice smoothly went in and out of your ears.

Your felt yourself reddening at his delightful words to you.

“I’ll see what I can do about work leave, but maybe i’ll take a couple sick days?” You spoke to Jason, happiness surging through you. “I would really love to fly out there.”

A loud engine roared through your phone, cutting off Jason’s voice briefly.

“Shit, sorry about that, I gotta go. I lo—” Jason hesitated before he was about to end the call, following up by several louder engines revving, overshadowing his voice despite how close he was to the phone. “I, uh, I’ll call you later.”

“Stay safe, Jay.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Beep.

The call clicked to end. No longer hearing the bustle around Jason as he was inching closer to his race.

Your heart beat rapidly in your ears as you continued to hold your phone in your hand despite the call ending moments ago.

You can’t assume.

There are numerous words that start with that sound. Maybe it was a mistake?

—

“What the fuck, Roy?” Jason yelled over Roy revving his engine multiple times. “I was almost done—will you stop—Roy!”

Roy lifted his foot, no longer making the obnoxious noise.

“Get your helmet on, we gotta go. If you win, then you can talk on the phone all ya want.” Roy was ready to pull onto the track. “Unless you want to stay on the phone and I can win this for us?”

Roy laughed as he sped off.

Jason sighed in disbelief as he walked back to get make sure the final checks on his car were done.

Roy was the only one who could compete with him on the track, so maybe his words weren’t just to instigate him.

He needed to focus because he wanted to see you and win while you were with him.

Jason put on his helmet, getting any last-minute safety precautions checked before he got the signal to drive out.

Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @kalzzen @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk @indulgentdaydream @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @idontknowanythingsblog @xakilicious @livvyliv15 @whatsupstark @maxi-ride @kolmikaelsonslover

[pottersfia]

I love your work and I’m wondering if you can make a Harry Potter x reader! Where the reader is a Slytherin and she’s all cocky and shit and she’s enemies with Harry. They get in a argument and out of frustration Harry kisses her and then they Have rough sex?

harry x fem!reader

smut

a/n: sorry this took so long! it was a fun write :)

out of all the people you could've been partnered up with for your DADA assignment, it had to be harry. you despised the so called "chosen one" but you wanted a good grade so you had to get through it.

you and harry agreed to meet in the library, but this particular evening you both happened to be busy after your classes and the library closed before you could get there. you decided to meet in your dorm instead. your roommate was gone for the night and you had a desk in there so it would have to do.

"wish me luck, pansy. hopefully i don't end up punching this guy." you said. pansy snickered.

"have fun." she said as you walked towards harry who arrived in the common room.

"hello potter." you said.

"y/l/n." he replied.

"ok let's get this over with." you lead him to your dorm.

as you began to pull out your notes and textbooks harry spoke up,

"just so you know, i already started. i thought i'd do most of it for us." he said. you scoffed. who did he think he was?

"no." you crossed your arms.

"no?" he raised his eyebrows.

"i already have ideas for this assignment so i'll do it. i don't need you doing anything for me."

"that's not really how this is supposed to work." he pushed his glasses up which sent your stomach churning. with annoyance of course.

"well you're trying to do all the work too."

"i said most!"

you furrowed your eyebrows and stared at him. harry always managed to get on your last nerve. this grade was important, yes, but you were in no mood to put up with his attitude.

"can you stop being insufferable for once so we can get this done." you said.

"i don't see how i'm insufferable when you won't listen." he said. the two of you glared at eachother.

"you can leave you know. we don't have to do this today." you stood up and walked towards the door.

"you know that i'm busy all week. unlike you i have other important things to do." he walked towards you.

"then stop acting like you're better than me!" you practically yelled in his face and moved your hands up to try and push him away from you but he grabbed them before you could touch him. "let go." you said but his grip was strong.

"no." he replied, holding your arms against the closed door. you two stared each other down until you noticed him look down at your lips. you raised your eyebrow in a questioning way about to say something until he leaned in and kissed you. you froze for a second confused by his actions but then you kissed back just as he broke away. he let go of you.

"woah, i'm sorry y/n, i uh-"

"shut up." you kissed him again and this time it was longer. your lips synced together perfectly and harry let his hands roam along the sides of your torso. you pushed him to walk back towards your bed and climbed on top as he laid down. you parted your lips to pull your shirt off and he stared hungrily at your body.

"like what you see, potter?" you smirked at him.

"come here." he pulled you against himself and flipped you over so he was on top. he then took off his own shirt and moved down to pull your bottoms off. he rubbed your thighs and slowly moved his hands closer and closer to where you needed him most.

"stop teasing." you whined out. he laughed at you making you whine again.

"you know what? i've always wanted to shut you up. i think i'll use that loud mouth of yours instead." he pulled his underwear off revealing his hard erection and moved up to straddle your chest.

"stick your tongue out." he said. you looked up at him and furrowed your eyebrows.

"you're not making me suck you off like this." he grabbed your face roughly and replied, "i said stick your tongue out. i'll use you how i want." you rolled your eyes and did so, ignoring the wetness pooling in your own underwear.

he slapped his tip on your tongue before pushing himself inside your mouth. he moaned as your lips wrapped around him and he buck his hips in and out of your wet mouth.

"fuck. you feel so good like this." he groaned. you gripped onto his thigh with one hand and began rubbing yourself under your underwear with the other. harry only noticed when he felt the vibrations of you moaning around him and saw your arm moving.

“i knew you were a dirty slut. rubbing yourself while is use your throat.” his word made you moan even more as you squeezed your thighs together to feel more pressure. “you’re way prettier like this, you know.” he let out small whines and groans from the sensation of your lips and wet tongue on his cock.

you loved having him use you and his noises only brought you closer and closer to the edge. you shut your eyes as you took in the feeling but suddenly your mouth was empty. you looked up and watched as harry climbed off of you, grabbed your hips, and turned you over.

“stick that ass out.” he said. you arched your back and showed off the wet spot on your underwear, slightly spreading your legs.

“you better fuck me good, potter.” you said, rubbing yourself over your underwear. harry felt like he was dreaming. the sight in front of him made him throbbing as he pumped himself, still wet from your mouth.

“fuck.” he pulled your underwear to the side to see your dripping pussy and replaced your rubbing hand with his. “i will, trust me.” and with that he pushed himself inside you making you gasp from being stretched. he instantly started pounding into you, chased how good it felt to finally have you.

“so tight.” he groaned. his hands were gripping you and you were moaning louder than you ever have before. you reached back to rub yourself again making harry smirk.

“slap me please, harry.” you moaned out. he slapped your ass making you groan from the sting.

“making so many pretty noises for me.” he slapped again. “i want you to cum on my cock, y/n. i know you can do it.” his words only got you more wet and you grew tighter around him as you reached your orgasm.

“harry, i’m so close.” you said. he fucked into you harder, feeling himself get closer too.

“i’m gonna cum too, fuck.” he relished in the moment, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer with every stroke. finally, you felt your release as your legs shook, letting out loud whines.

harry came soon after, pulling out and pumping his cum on your ass and back.

“that is crazy hot.” he said staring at the image in front of him. you relaxed your legs to lay on your stomach trying to catch your breath.

harry quickly grabbed a towel to clean you off. he sat next to you and wiped your body.

“that wasn’t too bad, potter.” you said turning towards him with a smile.

“glad i could make you feel good.” he smiled back. you sat up as soon as you were clean.

“i could do a better job fucking you if i were on top, though.” you said. harry’s eyebrows raised and suddenly he felt his cock twitch at the thought.

[miupow]

‧₊˚✩彡 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 /ˎˊ˗ 𝚌.𝚢𝚓 *ੈ✩‧

┆ rockstar!choi yeonjun x fem!reader ╰--⪼ one of the hardest things about dating a rockstar is the distance; when he’s on tour he’s thousands of miles away, busy and unable to call, and you spend months alone in a cold counting down the days until he gets home. but your boyfriend put some extra time aside to make a very special video call to his favorite girl.

. . . RATING ! NSFW, MDNFI! . . . WORDS ! 1.7k . . . WARNINGS ! soft dom!yeonjun, daddy kink, lots and lots of pet names, praise kink, sex toys, facetime sex, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, a little angst in the beginning

for @napofamoon's growing pain rockstar!txt event! this is also a little christmas gift for her and all of my followers~~ thank you to @taegimood and @wolfytae-exe for proofreading!

You purposefully let the call ring out for a bit before answering– you didn’t want him knowing you had been pacing for an hour, waiting impatiently by the phone. 

“Hey beautiful,” Yeonjun croons immediately upon you picking up, pretty bare face filling up the screen of your phone– he must’ve just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet and pushed back, black tank top and flannel overshirt pulled on haphazardly like he had been in a rush… sometimes you hated how he looked so beautiful so effortlessly. It reminded you just how horrifically out of your league he was. “What are you up to? How was your day?”

“Mm.. not much. It’s been boring without you.” You sigh listlessly, giving Yeonjun a tight, unconvincing smile. “I didn’t have work today so Yunjin took me shopping– got some things for the apartment, some new clothes. Waited for you to call. I’m honestly more interested in how you’re doing, babe.”

Yeonjun gives you an apologetic little grin, eyes unreadable– it does nothing but makes you feel worse. At least he was aware he promised to call three hours earlier. “I’m sorry it’s so late, we had a show.”

“I know.” You reply, a little curt. Yeonjun doesn’t have complete control over his own schedule, pushed and pulled around everywhere he goes by both his managers and his other band members, bending over backwards for breaks snuck in between press appearances and shows every time he and his band were on tour… you’ve beat yourself senseless trying not to let it get to you.

“I’m sorry, baby, I really am.” Yeonjun repeated, voice low as he leaned in closer to the camera. “There was a problem with the sound system so our open started an hour late, and then there was a fight in the pit so we had to stop for security to kick them out, and then Beomgyu wanted to get drinks after the show and–” 

“It’s alright, Jjun. I understand.” You cut in, voice soft. Yeonjun gives you a look like he doesn’t quite believe you. “It sounds like you had a busy night… you always have a busy night.”

“Yeah, I’m sure things are real quiet when I’m not around.” Yeonjun gives you one of his signature grins, lopsided and handsome, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Missing me yet?”

He wants you to respond with some snide joke, lighten the mood– Yeonjun’s begging for it, brown eyes nervously flitting across your face as his smile cracks and splinters, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. “So fucking much, Jjun.” you croak, “I miss you so fucking much.”

His face drops immediately, his unconvincing grin giving way to one much more solemn and sad– it makes your stomach churn, unable to stomach the helplesslessness in his eyes. “I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.” 

“But when?” You press, even though you knew you shouldn’t. Conversations over ETAs only ever lead to fights– Yeonjun loved to make promises he knew he couldn’t keep. 

“Soon.” He repeats, his stare hard as he shifts on his hotel bed. “I’ll make it work. I’ll come and see you.” 

You knew he wouldn’t, but he was always such a sweet liar.

The look on your face must have given you away, because Yeonjun gives you a desperate, pleading pout, kissable lips pulled down into a grimace. It tears your heart to pieces. “Just bare with me baby, okay? The tour’s almost over, I’ll be home soon–”

“And then you’ll just go on tour again.” You spit, nastier than you meant for it to come out. The wide-eyed, guilty look Yeonjun gives you makes your heart drop to your stomach; you’re fairly sure you would have felt better if he had just gotten angry with you instead.

The sigh he lets out weighs a ton, settles on both of your shoulders. “Can we just talk about this later? We can talk about this when I get home, just– I love you. You know that, right?”

“I love you too,” You reply in a whisper.

“I love you more than anything in the world, baby, more than this.. stupid fucking job, okay?” You had never heard Yeonjun refer to his career as a “job” before… you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Everything I’m doing right now is for our future together; if I pull this off right we won’t have to work another day in our lives, do you understand? It’s fucking rough right now but we’ll get through it, baby, I know we will. It’s all for you, beautiful.”

“I love you,” you repeat, voice wobbly with unshed tears. You’ve heard this speech a thousand times but it never failed to break you down, make your heart full.

“God, gorgeous, I love you too. My everything. My future. Enough sadness, yeah?”

Yeonjun’s gentle, soft words snaps you out of your reverie, reminds you of your plans before getting lost in your own emotions– you hadn’t wanted this call to go this way at all… in fact, you had wanted it to go a different way entirely. You nod and quickly rub your eyes.

“Jjunie…” you start, still semi-sad voice melodic and now charged with a sweet, playful lilt. “I got you something, when I went shopping earlier…” 

Yeonjun catches your drift fast, his eyebrow raising with a mischievous grin; he was always so in sync with you, always understood your wants and needs like he could read your mind. “Oh? What’d you get me, sugar?”

You giggle, blink away the tears as you smooth your hands over your baggy sweater, play with the hem– you scoot back a bit, letting more of your body come into frame; Yeonjun hisses in a loud breath when he sees that sweater was the only thing you were wearing.. “I dressed myself all pretty for you, daddy– do you wanna see?”

“Fuck,” Yeonjun breathes, leaning even closer to the camera. His pretty brown eyes are blown wide, lids low as he bites at his plush lower lip. “Take it off, let daddy see.”

You’re slow in sliding off your sweater, teasing as you tug it up over your thighs, over your hips– Yeonjun drinks in every inch, hungry eyes locked on your thighs, and he lets out a low, nasty groan from deep in his chest when you reveal to him your pretty lace thong. 

“God, baby, you’re so fucking pretty,” he growls, “Turn around for me.” 

You follow his directions obediently, turn your back to show him your lace-covered ass as you finish peeling off your sweater— the sound Yeonjun makes is unholy, deep and nasty and matching the grin on his face. “Fuck, such a perfect ass. So beautiful.” 

“I miss you, daddy.” you whine, turning back to the camera to show Yeonjun your pout. His lips are gnawed raw, shiny with spit and pretty pink as he takes in greedy eyefuls of your bra-clad tits, coos at you so sweet and condescending. 

“Mm, I miss you too, sugar. Go on; show daddy how much you miss him. Take that bra off ‘n show him those pretty tits, hmm?” 

“Yes, daddy~” you purr, quick to reach behind you for the clasp. You’re teasing in sliding off your bra, let the straps hang off your shoulders for a moment before you take it off entirely. Your perky nipples pucker in the cold air, begging for attention— you know better than to touch without Yeonjun’s permission, however. 

He can read you like a book, knows exactly what you need as you squirm on camera. “Go ahead and touch, my good girl.” 

One hand flies to your breast, tweaking your nipple between your forefinger and thumb; the other moves to rub your clothed clit in tight circles. you let out a breathy moan at the feeling, fight every fiber of yourself to keep your eyes open— you don’t want to miss a single second of watching Yeonjun. He’s breathing heavy, hastily angled the camera down to show you the big bulge in his sweatpants. He strokes himself over the fabric with the lightest of touches, teasing the both of you as he pants into the microphone. “What I would do if I was there...”

“What would you do, daddy?” you ask lightly, feigning innocence, pinching your nipple with a whimper. You’re so wet you’re soaking through your little panties— you’re sure Yeonjun had noticed. 

“God, I’d fuck you so hard. Dressed up so pretty for me, you deserve a reward, fuck— I’d leave those panties on while I bend you over and fuck you good, fill you up with my cum… you’d let me, right angel? Let me breed that little pussy?”

You moan high in your throat, hips stuttering as you continue to circle your clit, play with your bud. “Yes, yes! M-more, daddy, I need more!”

Yeonjun squeezes himself through his sweats, snickers at your fucked-out face. “Oh, baby… how about you go and grab that little vibe you love so much, give daddy a little show?”

You don’t need to be told twice; nodding desperately, you reach for your bedside drawer and pull out your favorite vibrator, thin and pink and powerful enough to make you scream. You settle back into frame, position yourself with your thighs wide apart  so that Yeonjun has a full view of your drooling cunt, the soaked fabric of your thong clinging to your lips obscenely. You feel vulnerable and exposed, and you embrace it as Yeonjun drinks in your form.

Yeonjun’s too impatient to tease you, giving you an affirming nod so you can start running the vibe across your throbbing slit. “Don’t take those panties off,” Yeonjun orders, slowly untying his sweatpants. “Want you to play with yourself with them on, okay?”

You don’t like the sound of that. “But I want my fingers,” you whine, pathetic, “want something inside—“

“Nuh uh,” Yeonjun chastises, pulling his hard pink cock out and giving it a stroke— you hadn’t realized how much you missed it until you saw it again, cockhead flared and dripping precum. “Listen to daddy, baby. Nothing goes in that cunt except my cock, you hear me? Be patient— I’ll fill you up when I come home.”  

And it isn’t until after he’s made you cum in your panties, vibrator on your clit and fingers on your nipples, that he explains why; he has a surprise for you too. 

The rest of the tour was canceled. He’s coming home.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

I think we Khan do it if we try (dp x dc)

Danny’s well-deserved Sunday of rest was interrupted by the sound of their doorbell ringing throughout the house. With barely a mumble, Danny cracked an eye open, observed it was much too early to be awake, and burrowed back in the covers.

He was brutally ripped away from sleep once again when the stupid doorbell rang again. With a groan, Danny rolled to the side as his brain slowly started to churn again. And with it, he slowly remembered that both Jazz and their parents had said they’d be out for the morning, which meant he was the only one home.

The doorbell rang for the third time, and Danny gave up the idea of out-stubborning whoever was at the front door. Through much effort, he managed to drag himself to the front door, and slam the door open on two older teenager/young adults, with one of them his hand raised and poised to ring a fourth time, and the other holding onto the guy’s wrist. Both of them, their eyes wide in surprise.

“Who’s it?” Danny yawned out as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Is this the residence of Madeleine Walker?” One of the guys asked, while looking suspiciously around as if he wasn’t expecting a positive answer.

“Yeah. Who’re you,” Danny mumbled, as he fought to keep his eyes open. 

“I’m Bruce and I want to learn all that I can from Master Walker,” The other guy, with the darker hair said. 

“Doctor,” Danny corrected as he rubbed at his eyes, his brain feeling like it was working through molasses. “And it’s Fenton.”

The lighter haired guy took over smoothly with a smirk towards the other guy, who’s jaw tightened in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable. “Anton,” he introduced himself, “I’ve come to seek Dr. Fenton’s guidance as I have done with masters of the craft from all over the world.”

Danny squinted as he struggled to make sense of the string of words coming out of the guy’s mouth. “What, so you guys are, like, exchange students?”

The lighter-haired guy opened his mouth, only to be elbowed in the gut by the darker-haired dude, but Danny was too busy trying to remember if there had been any talk of an exchange student recently. He knew his parents had considered it and even applied, but the house hadn’t passed muster for the committee’s criteria, which fair enough. Maybe they’d reconsidered? Danny sighed. Whatever, it was too early for this.

“Alright,” the halfa said. The room his parents had set up was still ready and they had applied. It wouldn’t be too surprising if his parents had forgotten to inform Jazz and him of the newcomers, or just forgotten about them altogether. “Alright come in.”

“And don’t forget to take off your shoes,” Danny added as he led them into the house, “mom hates when we walk on the carpets with them on.”

With his back to the two man, Danny missed the alarmed look they gave each other. “Mom?” He could hear one of them whisper to themself.

Weeks later, Danny would come to regret that decision with every fiber of his being.

“Mo-om, the exchange students are fighting again!”

“Leave them be, Jazz,”

“But mom, they’re blocking the way to the bathroom!”

Danny clenched his eyes shut as he tried to stuff his ears harder. 

Still better than the time he’d caught them both half-naked and wrestling on their front lawn like a couple of insane people.

[magical-reid]

A World Apart

Paring: Lip Gallagher x Reader (No use of Y/n)

Warnings: Reader gets herself into trouble that is inferred that it could lead to sexual harassment.

Word Count: 9.5 K

Reader’s POV

It wasn’t like I hadn’t been warned.

“You don’t belong down there,” my dad had said, his voice tight with the kind of control he thought made him sound authoritative. “You think those people care about your bleeding heart? You’ll get eaten alive.”

His words stuck with me, like tar on a new shoe, dragging behind me even as I pressed forward. It wasn’t as if I’d meant to end up on the South Side so often—it just… happened. The people there felt real, raw in a way the manicured lawns and gated homes of the North Side didn’t.

But now, sitting in the back of a dingy laundromat with my heart hammering, I was starting to think maybe my dad had been right.

“You’re too pretty to be sitting here alone.” The guy’s voice was low, and scratchy, like he’d been smoking since birth. He leaned over me, too close. His stained shirt reeked of sweat and stale beer.

I pressed myself against the plastic chair, clutching my phone as if it might somehow shield me. “I’m just waiting for my friend,” I lied, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Friend, huh?” His grin made my stomach churn. “Don’t see nobody around here but you. What’s a North Side girl doing slumming it like this?”

My throat dried up. I didn’t have an answer—at least not one that would make sense to someone like him. My instinct was to run, but his frame blocked the narrow space between me and the exit.

“Hey!” A familiar voice cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and commanding. “Get the hell away from her.”

Lip Gallagher.

He appeared in the doorway, his shoulders squared, his scowl so dark it could’ve melted ice.

The guy glanced at Lip, and for a second, I thought he might push back. But something in Lip’s expression—something cold and unyielding—made him back off. He raised his hands mockingly. “All right, man, relax. Didn’t know she was yours.”

Lip didn’t dignify that with a response. He waited until the guy slinked out of the laundromat before turning to me.

“Are you okay?” His voice softened as he crouched down, coming to my level.

My nod felt stiff like my body hadn’t caught up with the relief flooding through me. “I’m fine,” I managed, though my shaking hands betrayed me.

“You shouldn’t be here by yourself,” he said, his tone still rough but threaded with concern. “Not around here.”

I wanted to defend myself, to say I didn’t need a babysitter, but the truth was I did. My naivety had landed me in trouble more than once since I started spending time on the South Side.

Lip sighed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

I didn’t argue.

Lip’s POV

She had no business being down here.

That was my first thought as I watched her clutch her phone like it was a life raft, her big, terrified eyes darting around the laundromat. She didn’t fit—didn’t belong in the cracked tile and flickering lights of this place. Not in those clean jeans and the sweater that looked like it cost more than my entire wardrobe.

The second thought? How stupid she was for putting herself in danger.

But the third thought, the one that stuck, was that I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

“You’ve got a death wish, you know that?” I muttered as we walked back to my place.

She didn’t respond, just kept her eyes on the sidewalk like it might trip her up if she looked away. Her silence wasn’t new—she wasn’t exactly chatty even on a good day. But something about the way she carried herself made me ease up. She looked small and vulnerable, fragile in a way that made my chest ache.

“Why the hell were you there alone?” I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

“I… I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” she said quietly, her words tumbling out like an apology.

“Not a big deal?” I stopped walking, turning to face her. “You get that guy wasn’t gonna just walk away, right? If I hadn’t shown up—”

She flinched, and I shut my mouth.

Damn it. I didn’t mean to scare her.

“Look,” I said, softer this time. “I’m just saying… be careful, okay?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushing. “Thanks, Lip. For… y’know.”

I shrugged, but the truth was, hearing her say my name like that made something warm settle in my chest.

Reader’s POV

Lip’s house—or whatever you’d call the chaos he lived in—wasn’t what I’d expected. I wasn’t naive enough to think it’d be neat and tidy, but the sheer disarray was overwhelming. Clothes were tossed across the couches and floors, beer bottles crowded the coffee table, and the faint scent of stale smoke hung in the air.

Still, it was better than being outside.

“Sorry for the mess,” Lip said, running a hand through his hair as he stepped over a pile of magazines. “Not exactly Buckingham Palace, but it’s safe.”

I offered him a faint smile. “I don’t mind.”

And I didn’t. For all its clutter, the Gallagher house felt more alive than any room I’d ever stepped into back home. The kids running up and down the stairs, the hum of conversation even when no one was talking—it was chaotic, yes, but it felt… real.

Lip dropped onto the couch, stretching out like he hadn’t had a decent rest in days. He patted the spot next to him.

“Come on, sit down. You’re making me nervous, just standing there.”

I hesitated for a moment before lowering myself onto the cushion, careful to avoid a stray can of beer.

“You’re shaking.” His voice was softer now, and when I looked up, I saw his eyes fixed on my hands, which were clenched tightly in my lap.

“Am I?” I tried to laugh, but it came out shaky.

Lip leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied me. “You’re not used to this kind of stuff, are you?”

“No,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just sat there, watching me like he was trying to piece me together. Finally, he shook his head.

“You shouldn’t be coming down here, you know,” he said, though the words lacked their usual bite.

“I like it here,” I said, surprising even myself.

Lip raised an eyebrow. “You like it?”

I nodded. “It’s different. People are… I don’t know, real. Up north, everyone’s so polished. Fake. It’s exhausting.”

He snorted. “Yeah, well, ‘real’ doesn’t mean safe. You’ve gotta be smart, or this place’ll eat you alive.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. He wasn’t wrong. But despite everything that had happened, I didn’t want to leave. The South Side felt raw in a way that made me feel alive, even if it was dangerous.

“Anyway,” Lip said, breaking the silence. “You’re here now, so you might as well stay for a while. You hungry?”

I blinked at him. “Hungry?”

“Yeah, you know, food? Pretty basic concept.” He stood up, heading toward the kitchen. “We’ve got… uh…” He opened the fridge and frowned. “Beer and pickles. Great.”

I laughed, the sound slipping out before I could stop it.

Lip glanced back at me, his lips quirking into a grin. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, though my cheeks burned.

“Uh-huh,” he said, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he grabbed a couple of beers and tossed one to me.

I caught it awkwardly, staring at the label.

“You ever had one?” he asked, already popping the cap off his own.

“No,” I admitted, feeling my face heat up again.

Lip smirked. “First time for everything.”

I hesitated, then twisted off the cap and took a cautious sip. The taste was bitter, and I tried not to grimace.

“Not your thing, huh?” he teased, leaning back against the counter.

“It’s… different,” I said diplomatically, earning a laugh from him.

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it,” he said, his voice warm.

For the first time all night, I felt myself relax.

Lip’s POV

She didn’t belong here, but damn if she didn’t look good sitting on my couch.

The way she held that beer bottle like it might bite her was almost too much. She was trying so hard to keep up, to fit into a world that wasn’t made for her, and it was equal parts frustrating and endearing.

I couldn’t figure her out. Most North Side types treated us like we were beneath them, but not her. She didn’t flinch at the mess or the noise, didn’t look at me like I was some kind of charity case.

If anything, she looked like she was trying to prove she belonged.

“You’re quiet,” I said, watching as she picked at the label on her beer.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m just… not used to this.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

She looked up at me, her eyes wide and uncertain. “Do I stick out that much?”

I chuckled. “Like a sore thumb.”

Her face fell, and I cursed under my breath.

“Hey,” I said, crossing the room and sitting next to her again. “That’s not a bad thing. Just means you’re… different.”

“Different how?” she asked softly, her eyes searching mine.

I shrugged, suddenly feeling too exposed under her gaze. “I don’t know. You’re not like the girls around here.”

“Because I’m not from here,” she said, looking down again.

“Because you’re not jaded,” I corrected.

Her lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Most people around here, they’ve seen too much,” I said, my voice low. “Makes you hard. But you… you’re still soft.”

The room felt too quiet after that, the space between us charged with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Thanks,” she said finally, her voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I leaned back, letting the moment stretch out. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

Reader’s POV

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Again.

Lip had made that clear the last time I ventured into the South Side alone. But it wasn’t like I’d planned for anything to happen. I’d just wanted to help. A community center not far from Lip’s house had been running low on supplies, and volunteering felt like the least I could do.

What I hadn’t considered, though, was how fast things could spiral out of control.

I was walking back to the bus stop after my shift, the evening light casting long shadows over the cracked pavement. The streets were quiet in a way that made the hair on my neck stand up. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, squinting at the screen.

Lip: Where are you?

I frowned, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Me: Heading home. Just finished volunteering.

The response came almost immediately.

Lip: You alone?

I hesitated. Before I could reply, a voice cut through the air behind me.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

I froze.

Turning slowly, I found myself face-to-face with two men, both older and rough-looking, their eyes scanning me like a predator sizing up its prey.

“What’s a girl like you doing out here all alone?” one of them asked, his grin wide and unsettling.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest. “I’m just… heading home,” I stammered, taking a step back.

“Home?” The other guy tilted his head. “Don’t think you’re from around here.”

“I’m not looking for trouble,” I said quickly, clutching my phone like it could somehow save me.

“Trouble?” The first guy laughed, stepping closer. “Trouble’s the last thing you need to worry about, honey.”

Panic surged through me, cold and paralyzing. I turned to run, but before I could take a step, one of them grabbed my arm.

“Not so fast,” he said, his grip like a vise.

“Let go of me!” I shouted, but my voice felt small, swallowed by the empty street.

And then, just when I thought I was out of options, I heard it.

“Hey!”

Lip’s voice, sharp and furious, echoed down the block.

I whipped my head around to see him sprinting toward us, his face twisted in a mix of rage and something else I couldn’t quite place.

The guy holding me let go just as Lip reached us, shoving me behind him in one swift motion.

“You two got a death wish?” Lip growled, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Relax, man,” one of the guys said, raising his hands mockingly. “We were just talking.”

“Yeah?” Lip’s jaw tightened. “Then talk to me. Leave her out of it.”

The tension crackled in the air, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, I thought they might fight. But then, after what felt like an eternity, the men exchanged a look and backed off, muttering under their breath as they disappeared into the shadows.

As soon as they were gone, Lip turned to me, his eyes blazing.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, his voice shaking.

“I—I didn’t think—”

“Exactly! You didn’t think!” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing in front of me like he couldn’t stand still. “Jesus, you could’ve gotten killed!”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my chest tightening.

Lip stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, neither of us said anything, the weight of what just happened settling over us like a heavy fog.

“You can’t do this,” he said finally, his voice rough but quieter now. “You can’t just… show up here and act like nothing bad’s gonna happen. This place doesn’t work like that.”

I swallowed hard, guilt twisting in my stomach. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

Lip’s shoulders sagged, his anger giving way to something softer. He stepped closer, his hand brushing against my arm.

“I know,” he said, his voice low. “But you’ve gotta stop putting yourself in danger like this. I can’t—”

He cut himself off, his jaw tightening.

“You can’t what?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lip hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “I can’t keep seeing you get hurt.”

The raw honesty in his voice made my breath catch.

“Lip…”

“No, listen to me,” he said, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders. “I care about you, okay? More than I probably should. And it’s driving me crazy, watching you throw yourself into situations you can’t handle.”

My heart pounded in my chest, his words wrapping around me like a lifeline.

“You… care about me?” I asked, the words trembling on my lips.

Lip exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening slightly on my shoulders. “Yeah, I do. And if you don’t get that by now, I don’t know what else to do to prove it.”

The air between us felt heavy, charged with something I couldn’t ignore.

“I didn’t know,” I admitted, my voice shaking.

Lip’s lips twisted into a rueful smile. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly subtle.”

I felt my cheeks heat up, the warmth spreading through me like a slow burn. “I thought you were just… looking out for me.”

“I am,” he said softly. “But it’s not just that. I want to keep you safe because… because I don’t want to lose you.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke something in me, and before I could overthink it, I stepped closer, my fingers brushing against his.

“You’re not going to lose me,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Lip’s eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away.

“You’re too important to me,” he murmured, his thumb grazing my cheek in a gesture so tender it made my heart ache.

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. Instead, I leaned into him, letting his arms wrap around me in a way that felt like safety itself.

Lip’s POV

She was trembling against me, and I couldn’t tell if it was from fear, relief, or the cold air settling into the South Side.

My arms tightened around her, like I could shield her from all the crap this place throws at people. I was still wired from what had just happened—half a second away from throwing punches, adrenaline buzzing under my skin. But holding her like this? It was grounding, like hitting the brakes on a runaway car.

I pulled back, just enough to look at her. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, and I could still see the shadow of what just happened written all over her.

“Come on,” I said gruffly, slipping an arm around her shoulders to steady her. “We’re not staying out here.”

She didn’t argue, letting me guide her back toward the house. Every few steps, I caught her glancing up at me, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Good. Because I didn’t know what to say, either.

When we got back, the house was quiet for once. Fiona was out working her double shift, the kids were god knows where, and the usual chaos had given way to an eerie stillness.

I led her into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for her at the small, scarred table. She sat down slowly, her hands still shaking.

“You want water? Tea? Something stronger?” I asked, leaning against the counter.

She gave a weak smile. “I think I’ve had enough beer for one lifetime.”

I huffed out a laugh, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. She took it with both hands, sipping carefully.

“Why were you out there by yourself?” I asked after a long silence.

Her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t look up. “I was just… volunteering. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

“It’s always a big deal,” I said, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. “Especially when you’re walking around alone.”

She flinched, and I instantly felt like a jerk.

“Look, I get it,” I said, lowering my voice. “You want to help. But this place doesn’t care about that. The South Side doesn’t give points for good intentions—it just chews people up.”

She stared into her glass for a moment before speaking, her voice soft. “I just wanted to do something that mattered.”

“Yeah, well, staying alive matters,” I shot back, though the edge in my voice was gone.

She finally looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with something I couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me,” I lied, turning away to grab a cigarette from the counter.

“Lip.” Her voice stopped me mid-motion.

I sighed, tossing the unlit cigarette back down. “Okay, maybe you scared me a little. Happy?”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t last. “I guess I don’t understand why you care so much.”

Her words hit me like a sucker punch. I could’ve laughed—except nothing about this felt funny.

“Are you serious?” I asked, stepping closer. “You really don’t get it?”

She shrugged, biting her lip like she was bracing for me to yell at her.

I crouched down next to her chair, forcing her to meet my eyes. “I care because you matter to me. Because every time you walk out there by yourself, I’m scared someone’s gonna hurt you or worse.”

Her breath hitched, and for a second, I thought I’d pushed too far. But then she surprised me.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” she whispered.

“A burden?” I barked out a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re not a burden, you’re just—”

I stopped myself, dragging a hand through my hair. I wanted to tell her she was everything—different from anyone I’d ever met, someone who made me want to do better just by being around. But I didn’t have the words for that.

“You’re just you,” I finished lamely. “And that’s enough.”

Reader’s POV

Lip’s words lingered in the air, heavy and unpolished, but somehow perfect.

I wanted to say something back, to tell him how much it meant, how much he meant. But the words were tangled up in my chest, and all I could do was nod.

“You should get some rest,” he said, standing up and moving toward the couch like the conversation hadn’t just shifted something monumental between us.

“Where are you going?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He turned back, eyebrows raised. “Uh, to bed? Pretty sure I’ve got half a mattress upstairs with my name on it.”

“You don’t have to—” I hesitated. “I mean, you don’t have to leave me down here alone.”

His expression softened, and for a second, I thought he might argue. But then he grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and dropped into the chair across from me.

“Fine,” he said, kicking his feet up on the table. “But if you snore, I’m out.”

I laughed, the sound startling after everything that had happened. Lip smirked, his eyes lingering on me a beat longer than they should have.

“Get some sleep,” he said, his voice softer now.

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Reader’s POV

The next few weeks blurred together. Lip and I fell into a strange rhythm—one that felt precarious, like walking a tightrope over everything unsaid.

He’d check in on me constantly, texting when I was at work or volunteering, sometimes showing up unannounced just to make sure I wasn’t “pulling any more dumb stunts,” as he put it.

I should’ve been annoyed. Instead, I felt safer than I had in years.

But safety was a fragile thing on the South Side.

Lip’s POV

It was a Tuesday when everything came crashing down.

I was fixing up a busted air conditioner for some old guy a few blocks over when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Unknown Number: Your girl’s in trouble. Corner of 19th and Pulaski.

My blood ran cold.

I didn’t think, just ran.

When I got there, she was cornered again, three guys this time, their voices low and mean as they backed her against the wall.

They didn’t see me coming.

I don’t remember much after that. Just flashes—my fist connecting with one guy’s jaw, the sharp crack of bone, the other two scattering when I turned on them.

When it was over, she was standing there, her eyes wide and tear-streaked, staring at me like I was some kind of stranger.

“You okay?” I asked, wiping blood from my knuckles.

She nodded, but the way she clutched her arms told me otherwise.

I stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re safe now.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” she asked, her voice breaking.

I frowned. “Doing what?”

“Saving me,” she said, her tears spilling over. “You act like it’s your job to protect me, but why? Why do you care so much?”

The words tore out of me before I could stop them.

“Because I love you, all right?”

She froze, her eyes wide and unblinking.

“I love you,” I said again, softer this time. “And it’s killing me watching you get hurt.”

Her lip trembled, and for a second, I thought she might run. But then she threw herself into my arms, holding on like I was the only solid thing in a crumbling world.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice muffled against my chest.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like things might actually be okay.

Reader’s POV

The air felt heavy as I leaned into Lip’s chest, my fingers clutching at the worn fabric of his shirt. His arms wrapped around me tightly, holding me like he was afraid I might disappear.

I’d never had someone care for me like this before. Lip wasn’t the kind of person who said things he didn’t mean, and hearing him tell me he loved me? It made the ground feel unsteady under my feet, like the whole world had tilted and I wasn’t sure how to stand upright anymore.

“You okay?” he murmured against the top of my head.

I nodded into his chest, the motion small but certain. “I’m okay.”

He let out a breath, his hand moving to cradle the back of my head. “Good. Because you scared the hell outta me.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

His arms tightened around me. “Stop saying that. Just… stop putting yourself in situations like this.”

I wanted to argue, to explain that I wasn’t trying to get into trouble, but I didn’t. Because he wasn’t wrong—I’d been reckless. And now that I was in his arms, feeling the tension still radiating off him, I didn’t want to make excuses.

“I won’t,” I promised quietly.

Lip pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching mine for any sign that I didn’t mean it.

“Good,” he said finally. “Because I can’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I don’t want to keep pulling you out of situations like this. You don’t get how dangerous it is down here.”

“I do now,” I said, my voice firm.

He huffed out a dry laugh, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “Yeah, well, I hope so. You’re not getting another free pass. Next time, I’m locking you in the house.”

I cracked a small smile. “You wouldn’t.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Try me.”

The moment stretched between us, his words serious but his tone light enough to soften the edges. For the first time since everything had happened, the tension in my chest eased.

We walked back to the Gallagher house in silence, his hand hovering at my back like he was ready to catch me if I stumbled. When we reached the door, he glanced at me.

“You want to come in, or…?”

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to go home, to let the quiet of my room wash over me and give me space to think. But the thought of leaving Lip, even for a few hours, made my stomach twist.

“I’ll stay,” I said softly.

Lip nodded, pushing the door open. The house was alive with its usual chaos—Debbie chasing Franny up the stairs, Carl arguing with Liam over the TV, and Fiona sitting at the kitchen table, her head resting in her hands like she’d had the longest day imaginable.

“Lip!” Fiona called out, her eyes narrowing as she took in the two of us. “What the hell happened? You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

Lip shrugged, his hand still resting on the small of my back. “Handled it.”

Fiona’s gaze flicked to me, concern flashing in her eyes. “You okay, hon?”

I nodded, managing a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Fine,” Lip muttered under his breath, steering me toward the stairs. “C’mon.”

Fiona opened her mouth to say something, but Lip shot her a look that silenced whatever lecture she’d been about to launch into.

Lip’s POV

I led her upstairs to my room, shutting the door behind us. It wasn’t much—just a bed, a dresser, and a pile of books I’d meant to read but never got around to.

“You can sit,” I said, gesturing toward the bed.

She perched on the edge, her fingers twisting in her lap.

“You don’t have to look so nervous,” I said, dropping into the chair across from her. “I’m not gonna bite.”

She laughed softly, the sound like a balm to the tension still coiled in my chest.

“I’m not nervous,” she said, though the flush on her cheeks said otherwise.

“Right,” I said, smirking.

Her eyes darted to mine, and the air in the room shifted.

“So…” she started, her voice small. “When you said you loved me… did you mean it?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What, you think I go around saying that to just anyone?”

“No, I just—” She hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I guess I didn’t think you’d feel that way about me.”

“Why not?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Because I’m… me,” she said, gesturing vaguely to herself.

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I’m not like you, Lip. I’m not tough or confident or…”

“Stop,” I said, my voice firmer than I intended.

Her eyes snapped to mine, startled.

“You think I give a crap about that?” I asked, shaking my head. “I don’t care if you’re tough or not. You’re smart, you care about people, and you make me want to be better. That’s all I need.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“Look,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I know I’m not exactly boyfriend material. I’ve got baggage for days, and I’m not always great at… this.” I gestured vaguely between us. “But I care about you. And if you give me a chance, I’ll prove it.”

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. And then, slowly, a small smile spread across her lips.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” she said softly.

Relief flooded through me, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“Good,” I said, grinning. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m out of grand gestures.”

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine.

“Come here,” I said, holding out a hand.

She hesitated for only a second before standing and crossing the room to me. I pulled her onto my lap, my arms wrapping around her waist as she settled against me.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

Reader’s POV

Falling into a relationship with Lip Gallagher wasn’t exactly a smooth transition. It wasn’t all late-night confessions and tender moments. It was messy, awkward, and entirely too public, thanks to the constant chaos of the Gallagher house.

But it was real.

It started with the little things. Lip would walk me home when I stayed too late on the South Side. His hand would hover at my back, like he needed to remind himself I was still there. I’d catch him watching me when he thought I wasn’t looking, his expression soft in a way that made my chest ache.

I wasn’t used to being looked at like that—like I was something worth protecting.

The first time Ian caught us, I was sitting on Lip’s lap in the Gallagher kitchen, my arms looped loosely around his neck as we shared a quiet moment before the chaos of the day began. Lip had his head tilted back, his fingers tracing absent patterns on my thigh, his eyes half-lidded with a rare calm.

“What the hell is this?” Ian’s voice broke through the quiet, startling me enough that I almost fell off Lip’s lap.

Lip caught me easily, his grip tightening on my waist as he smirked up at Ian.

“This,” he said, gesturing lazily between us, “is none of your business.”

Ian snorted, leaning against the doorframe. “You two are disgusting. Does Fiona know about this?”

“Why would Fiona care?” Lip shot back, rolling his eyes.

Ian shrugged, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Because you’re acting like a couple of teenagers sneaking around. It’s embarrassing, man.”

“Yeah? You wanna talk embarrassing?” Lip said, a sharp edge creeping into his tone. “Should I bring up your first six months with Mickey?”

“Hey!” Ian protested, his cheeks reddening. “This isn’t about me.”

“Exactly,” Lip said, leaning back in his chair like the conversation was over. “So mind your own damn business.”

Ian huffed but didn’t push further. His eyes flicked to me, a teasing glint still lingering. “You sure you know what you’re getting into with this one?”

Before I could respond, Lip’s hand tightened on my hip, and he gave Ian a glare that could’ve melted steel.

Ian held up his hands in surrender, smirking as he walked away.

Lip’s POV

“Do you ever feel like you’re under a goddamn microscope?” I muttered, dropping my head onto her shoulder as Ian’s footsteps faded.

She laughed softly, her fingers running through my hair in a way that made me feel like a goddamn housecat. I should’ve hated it. Instead, I found myself leaning into her touch.

“Is it always like this around here?” she asked, her voice warm with amusement.

I lifted my head, giving her a look. “What do you think?”

Her lips quirked into a small smile. “I think it’s chaotic. But… kind of nice.”

“Nice?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “It feels… alive. Like there’s always someone around.”

I snorted, leaning back. “Trust me, it’s not as great as it seems. Gets old pretty fast when you’re trying to get some peace and quiet.”

Her smile widened. “You don’t strike me as the ‘peace and quiet’ type.”

I shrugged, a grin tugging at my lips. “Maybe I’ve got layers.”

She laughed, and the sound settled something deep in my chest.

A couple of days later, Mickey decided to get in on the action.

We were at The Alibi, sitting in one of the corner booths while Mickey and Ian played darts nearby. She’d been talking about her latest volunteer gig, her face lighting up in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else.

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey’s voice cut through her story, loud and abrasive as usual. “Are you two seriously doing this shit in public?”

I turned in my seat, glaring at him. “Doing what, Mickey?”

He gestured between us with his beer bottle. “This. The whole doe-eyed, puppy-love bullshit.”

“Shut up, Mickey,” Ian said, throwing a dart without looking.

“What? I’m just saying, it’s gross.” Mickey took a swig of his beer, smirking. “Can’t even go to a bar without you two making it weird.”

“Maybe you should focus on your own damn relationship,” I shot back, my arm draping casually over her shoulders.

Mickey snorted. “Our relationship’s fine. At least we don’t act like we’re in some shitty teen romance movie.”

“Funny,” I said dryly. “I could’ve sworn you and Ian just started holding hands in public last week.”

Mickey’s smirk faltered, and Ian’s laugh rang out across the bar.

“Don’t listen to him,” Ian said, his eyes flicking to her with a knowing smile. “Mickey doesn’t know what to do with himself when people are happy.”

Mickey grumbled something under his breath, but I ignored him, turning back to her.

“You okay?” I asked quietly, my hand brushing against hers under the table.

She nodded, her cheeks flushed but her eyes bright. “I’m fine.”

I squeezed her hand, and for the first time all night, I felt like the world wasn’t pressing down on us.

Reader’s POV

The teasing from Ian and Mickey didn’t stop, but it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. Lip made it easy to block out the noise, his presence grounding in a way I couldn’t explain.

We weren’t perfect—far from it. Lip had a temper, and I was still learning how to stand my ground when things got hard. But for every rough moment, there were ten others that made it worth it.

Like the way he’d pull me against his chest when we watched movies, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my arm.

Or the way he’d walk me home after a long day, his hand never straying far from mine.

Or the way he looked at me—like I was the one thing in his life that made sense.

It wasn’t easy, but it was ours. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Reader’s POV

Dating Lip Gallagher wasn’t a dream—it was a test.

Not in the sense that he made me jump through hoops or prove myself, but because being with him meant constantly adapting to a world where nothing came easy. Lip didn’t live a life where problems were solved neatly. His world was messy, loud, and often brutal. But I was starting to realize that it wasn’t about perfection—it was about weathering the storms together.

And sometimes, those storms came sooner than I’d expected.

It was a quiet Tuesday night, and Lip and I were sitting on the couch at the Gallagher house, the TV playing some rerun neither of us was paying attention to. His arm was draped around my shoulders, his fingers idly twisting a strand of my hair.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said, his voice low and soft, a stark contrast to the noise of the show.

“I’m just thinking,” I admitted, leaning my head against his shoulder.

“That dangerous for you?” he teased, grinning when I swatted at his chest.

“Very funny,” I said, rolling my eyes.

He chuckled, but his tone shifted, his fingers stilling in my hair. “What’s on your mind?”

I hesitated, unsure how to put my thoughts into words. “I was just… wondering what you see in me.”

Lip frowned, his head tilting slightly so he could look down at me. “What kind of question is that?”

“I don’t know,” I said quickly, suddenly wishing I hadn’t brought it up. “It’s just… you’re so used to this life, and I feel like I’m still trying to find my place in it.”

“You’re overthinking,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

“I know,” I said softly, biting my lip.

Lip shifted, turning so he was facing me more fully. His hand came up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

“Look, I’m not gonna sit here and give you some cheesy speech about how we’re meant to be or whatever,” he said. “But I’m with you because I want to be. Because you’re smart, and funny, and you give a damn about people—even when you shouldn’t.”

I blinked up at him, my chest tightening at the raw honesty in his voice.

“You think I don’t know I’m a screw-up?” he continued, his tone softer now. “Half the time, I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. But when I’m with you… it feels like I’m doing something right.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I leaned into his touch, letting his words sink in.

“You’re not a screw-up,” I whispered.

Lip snorted, but there was no bite to it. “Yeah, tell that to everyone else.”

“I don’t care about everyone else,” I said, my voice firm.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of us.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against my lips.

“That’s not for you to decide,” I said, smiling faintly.

Lip’s laugh was quiet, almost disbelieving. But he didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was soft and slow, like he was afraid I might disappear if he held on too tightly.

Lip’s POV

She had no idea what she did to me.

The way she looked at me, like I wasn’t just some guy barely holding it together, made my chest ache in a way that scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t used to this—having someone care about me for who I was, not what I could do for them.

But with her, it felt real.

And that scared me, too.

The next day, things started to shift.

I was working on a car in the Milkoviches’ driveway, grease coating my hands as I tried to fix a busted alternator. Mickey was sitting on the porch, chain-smoking and pretending not to watch me.

“She still hanging around?” he asked suddenly, his tone casual but with an edge I didn’t miss.

I didn’t look up. “Who?”

“You know who,” Mickey said, flicking ash off his cigarette. “Little miss North Side.”

“Yeah, she’s still around,” I said, my tone clipped.

Mickey snorted. “Must be serious, huh?”

“Why do you care?” I asked, standing up and wiping my hands on a rag.

“I don’t,” he said, shrugging. “Just never figured you for the relationship type.”

I rolled my eyes, tossing the rag onto the hood of the car. “Yeah, well, maybe people can change.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Jesus, you’re whipped.”

“Go to hell, Mickey,” I muttered, but there wasn’t much heat behind it.

When I got back to the house that night, she was sitting at the kitchen table with Fiona, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. They were laughing about something, the sound warm and easy in a way that made the chaos of the house fade into the background.

Fiona glanced up as I walked in, her smile turning teasing. “Hey, Romeo.”

“Don’t start,” I said, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

She grinned, patting my shoulder as she stood. “She’s a keeper,” she said quietly, just loud enough for me to hear.

“Yeah,” I said, my eyes flicking to her. “I know.”

Reader’s POV

Over the next few weeks, things started to settle into a new kind of normal. Lip was still rough around the edges, and I was still adjusting to the rhythm of his world, but we were finding our way.

He was protective, sometimes to the point of being overbearing, but I learned to push back when I needed to. And he was learning to let me in, to let me see the parts of him he usually kept hidden.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours.

One night, as we lay tangled together on the couch, Lip’s fingers tracing idle patterns on my arm, I found myself thinking about the future. It was something I hadn’t let myself consider before—what a life with Lip might look like beyond the chaos of the South Side.

“Hey,” I said softly, tilting my head to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“You ever think about… what’s next?”

He frowned, his hand stilling on my arm. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… where do you see yourself in a few years? Do you think about that?”

Lip was quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant.

“Sometimes,” he said finally. “But it’s hard to picture.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, his expression guarded. “Because every time I try, it feels like I’m just setting myself up to fail.”

I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “You’re not going to fail, Lip.”

“You don’t know that,” he said, his voice low.

“No,” I said, squeezing his hand. “But I know you. And I know you’re capable of more than you think.”

His lips twitched into a small, wry smile. “You really believe that?”

“Yeah,” I said firmly. “I do.”

He looked at me for a long moment, something soft and unspoken passing between us.

“Guess I’ll have to prove you right,” he said finally, his voice warm.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel so uncertain.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be spending most of my nights at the Gallagher house, surrounded by chaos and cigarette smoke, I probably wouldn’t have believed them. But here I was, sitting cross-legged on Lip’s bed, a beat-up textbook open in front of me while he scribbled furiously in a notebook.

He’d been restless all evening, muttering under his breath about deadlines and broken printers, the frustration radiating off him in waves. I tried to stay out of his way, quietly working on my own project, but when he slammed his pen down on the desk for the third time, I couldn’t help but speak up.

“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.

“No,” he snapped, then sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry. I’m just… stressed.”

I closed my textbook and slid off the bed, walking over to him. He didn’t look up as I leaned against the desk, his shoulders tense as he stared at the pages in front of him.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Lip shook his head, his jaw tight. “Not unless you can magically make tuition disappear or write this paper for me.”

I hesitated, unsure if I should push or give him space. But the way his hands fisted in his hair made my chest ache, and I found myself reaching out, resting a hand on his arm.

“You’re not alone in this, you know,” I said quietly.

His head snapped up, his eyes meeting mine. For a moment, his expression was unreadable—like he wasn’t sure if he believed me or not.

“Yeah, well, it sure as hell feels like it,” he muttered, looking away.

I crouched down so I was eye level with him, my hand still on his arm. “You’ve got me,” I said firmly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Lip stared at me, his brows furrowing. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you still here?” His voice cracked, the words raw and unguarded. “You could go back to your nice, safe world and leave all this behind. But you’re still here. Why?”

I hesitated, my throat tightening. “Because I care about you. And because I know you’re worth it, even if you don’t.”

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and his hand moved to cover mine, his fingers warm and steady.

“You’re too good for me,” he said quietly.

“Maybe,” I teased, smiling when he huffed out a laugh. “But you’re stuck with me anyway.”

Lip’s lips quirked into a faint smile, and he tugged me toward him, pressing his forehead against mine. “Lucky me.”

Lip’s POV

She didn’t get it.

Every time she looked at me like I was worth a damn, it made me want to be better—do better. But it also scared the hell out of me. Because what if I couldn’t live up to that? What if I let her down?

“You’re gonna burn yourself out,” she said, pulling back to look at me.

I shrugged, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on my chest. “Yeah, well, that’s what college does.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

The words hit harder than they should’ve. I wasn’t used to having someone in my corner—not like this.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice rough.

Her smile was small but warm, and for the first time all day, the knot in my chest loosened.

The next week, things got complicated.

I’d been spending more time on campus, trying to catch up on assignments and keep my professors off my back. But juggling school, work, and family had me stretched thin, and it was only a matter of time before something gave.

It happened on a Friday night. I’d just finished a shift at Patsy’s and was heading back to the house when I spotted her walking down the street with a group of volunteers from the community center.

“Hey,” I called out, jogging to catch up with her.

Her face lit up when she saw me, and the sight of her smile made my exhaustion fade, if only for a moment.

“Hey,” she said, stepping away from the group. “What are you doing out here?”

“Heading home,” I said, glancing at the people behind her. “What about you?”

“Just finished an event,” she said, gesturing toward the community center a few blocks away.

I frowned, my protective instincts kicking in. “You walking home alone?”

“I’m not alone,” she said, smiling faintly.

“You know what I mean,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended.

Her expression faltered, and I immediately regretted it.

“I can take care of myself, Lip,” she said quietly.

“I know,” I said, sighing. “I just… I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, her voice firmer now.

We stood there for a moment, the tension between us thick and heavy. I wanted to tell her I was just looking out for her, that it wasn’t about control or mistrust. But the words got stuck in my throat.

“I’ll see you at the house,” she said finally, her tone softening.

“Yeah,” I said, watching as she walked away.

Reader’s POV

I knew Lip cared about me. He’d said it, shown it, time and time again. But sometimes, his protectiveness felt suffocating, like he didn’t trust me to handle myself.

It wasn’t until I got back to the Gallagher house that I realized just how much he’d been holding in.

He was sitting on the porch, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, his expression tense.

“You okay?” I asked, stepping closer.

Lip looked up, his eyes tired but sharp. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said, sitting next to him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I can be an ass sometimes,” he said, his voice low.

“You’re not an ass,” I said softly.

He snorted. “Yeah, I am. I just… I’m not used to this. Having someone like you. And I don’t want to screw it up.”

“You’re not screwing it up,” I said, reaching for his hand.

Lip looked at me, his expression raw and vulnerable. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? I’m just trying to figure it out as I go.”

“Me too,” I admitted, squeezing his hand.

The honesty between us felt heavy but comforting, like we were finally laying everything bare.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, my voice steady.

Lip’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, we will.”

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like we really could.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Milestones aren’t always the picture-perfect moments you imagine them to be. Sometimes, they come in the form of messy, unpolished choices that shape your future in ways you didn’t see coming.

For Lip and me, our milestone started with a fight.

It had been building for weeks. Lip was overworked, barely sleeping between school, shifts at Patsy’s, and the constant demands of his family. I was busy at the community center, trying to juggle volunteering with a part-time job I’d picked up at a local café. We saw each other in passing—late nights when I’d show up at the Gallagher house or mornings when Lip walked me to the bus stop.

The space between us felt like a chasm, growing wider with every exhausted glance and unfinished conversation.

One night, after a long shift at the café, I stopped by the house, hoping to catch Lip before he disappeared into another round of studying. Instead, I found him sitting in the kitchen with Fiona, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“You’re late,” he said as soon as I walked in, his tone sharp.

“I had to cover for someone,” I said, setting my bag down on the counter.

“You didn’t text,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t think I needed to,” I replied, frowning.

“Yeah, well, I was worried,” he snapped, slamming his beer bottle down on the table.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” I said, my voice rising in frustration. “But I’m not a kid, Lip. I can handle myself.”

“Clearly,” he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Fiona stood, raising her hands. “I’m not getting in the middle of this,” she said, brushing past me as she left the room.

The silence she left behind was heavy, the tension between us crackling like a live wire.

“What’s your problem?” I demanded, crossing my arms.

“My problem?” Lip stood, his chair scraping against the floor. “My problem is you walking around like everything’s fine when it’s not. This isn’t the North Side. You can’t just ignore how dangerous it is out there.”

“I’m not ignoring it,” I shot back. “But you can’t control everything, Lip. I’m trying my best.”

“Yeah, well, your best doesn’t mean much if you’re not safe,” he said, his voice cold.

The words hit harder than I expected, and I felt my throat tighten. “That’s not fair,” I whispered.

Lip sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, it’s not. I know it’s not.”

“Then why are you pushing me away?”

“I’m not pushing you away,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“You are,” I said, stepping closer. “And I don’t understand why.”

Lip’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. “Because I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I don’t know how to let someone in without screwing it up.”

I stared at him, my chest aching. “You’re not screwing it up,” I said softly.

He looked at me, his expression filled with something I couldn’t quite name. “I feel like I am.”

I took a step closer, reaching for his hand. “Then let me help you.”

Lip’s POV

She didn’t give up on me. Even when I was at my worst—snapping at her, shutting her out—she stayed. And that terrified me, because it meant I didn’t have an excuse to walk away.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of pots clanging in the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes as I stumbled downstairs.

She was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes with an ease that made it look like she belonged here. Fiona was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee, while Debbie and Liam sat at the table, eagerly awaiting their plates.

“What’s all this?” I asked, still groggy.

“Breakfast,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a small smile.

I frowned, stepping closer. “Since when do you cook?”

“Since now,” she said, her tone teasing.

Fiona smirked over the rim of her mug. “She’s putting us all to shame, Lip. Better hang onto this one.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, but my lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

That breakfast marked a turning point. She wasn’t just visiting anymore—she was part of the Gallagher house, part of my life.

But with that came new challenges.

Reader’s POV

The big challenge came out of nowhere.

Lip had been staying up late, poring over job listings and financial aid applications, his stress mounting with every passing day. I tried to help where I could, but he had a way of carrying everything himself, like he didn’t trust anyone else to lighten the load.

One night, after hours of research and phone calls, he finally snapped.

“I can’t do this,” he said, slamming his laptop shut.

I looked up from my spot on the couch, startled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this,” he said, gesturing wildly. “College, work, taking care of the family—it’s too much. I’m drowning, and no one gives a damn.”

“That’s not true,” I said, standing.

“Isn’t it?” he shot back, his eyes flashing. “You’re the only one who cares, and even then, you don’t get it.”

The words stung, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Then help me understand,” I said.

Lip froze, his chest heaving as he stared at me. For a moment, I thought he might explode, but then his shoulders slumped, and he sank into a chair.

“I don’t want to drag you down with me,” he said quietly.

“You’re not dragging me down,” I said, kneeling in front of him. “We’re in this together, Lip. You’re not alone.”

His eyes softened, and he reached for my hand, holding it tightly. “You sure about that?”

“Positive,” I said firmly.

Lip’s POV

She didn’t just say the words—she meant them.

The next day, she helped me organize my schedule, breaking things down into manageable pieces. She sat with me through financial aid applications, proofread my essays, and even found a tutoring gig that paid enough to help cover my tuition.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.

And it was because of her.

One night, as we lay tangled together on the couch, I pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled, her eyes soft. “Good thing you don’t have to find out.”

Reader’s POV

Being with Lip wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. We weren’t perfect—far from it—but we were learning, growing, and building something that felt real.

For the first time, I didn’t feel out of place. I didn’t feel like I had to prove myself.

I felt like I belonged.

And that was all I needed.

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 11

WC 1326, Masterpost CW: anxiety

“Hey, kid,” Flash the older said as he raced up beside Danny.

“Still not a kid, old man,” Danny replied. It was already a well worn argument by this point after several dinners or weekend meals over at the Flash’s household. Sure it was used before that, but once Danny had started seeing Barry out of the mask, he’d only been worse about it. Danny guessed it was their thing now. It was weird to have ‘things’ again with people, but a good sort of weird.

“Still not an old man, kid. I’m not even a grandpa yet!”

Danny almost dropped the tablet he was working on. Barry didn’t have any kids, not aside from Wally who might as well count. Did that mean…?

“I’d tell you to watch your sass in your new position,” Barry continued, unaware or uncaring of Danny’s sudden crisis about the idea of children, “but one, I’d be a hypocrite and two, it’s a solid third of the reason I recommended you.”

“Well, that’s good because the sass isn’t going awa— wait, what new position?”

Barry grinned under his mask in a way that just felt dangerous. Not, like, dangerous in general, but dangerous for Danny who was the focus of that smile. “You’ll see. Flash Two will pick you up Monday at nine am. Don’t worry, you’re cleared off work already.”

“Fla— and he’s gone. That’s great. What the fuck,” Danny said to himself. It was a struggle to focus on finishing up the post event check in and then his reports and then going over his team’s report and then some more paperwork, but Danny managed. As soon as he got home he was immediately was texting Wally.

After the Reveal, Danny had gotten Wally’s civilian number too, but there were strict rules for using that number. Danny understood the caution. Apparently the first number he had been given was encrypted by Batman’s crew, which was crazy to think about, even when he was dating a Flash, so there were less rules other than no civilian names. Just for the ease of it, Danny mostly stuck to the old number unless they were planning a purely civilian date. Or if Danny wanted to say things that he knew would make Wally blush. Things Danny would very much never want anyone else to read. They may have mostly kept to kissing in person, but teasing Wally was just too much fun.

Danny: Why is Big!Flash having you pick me up on Monday??? What did he mean about a ‘new position’?????? I like my job! FLASH!

Quick Boy: You’ve got to give me a second to answer, dude!

Danny: You’re supposed to be fast. 😑

Quick Boy: Who’s always telling me electrical signals can only move so fast?

Danny: FLASH 🤬

Quick Boy: Sorry, babe, I’m not allowed to tell! But you’ll love it! Promise!

Danny: 🥺

Quick Boy: Don’t make those eyes at me! Trust me, babe, just wait until Monday.

Danny: Fine. But know I’m pouting.

Quick Boy: 😭

Danny behaved. He didn’t bother for updates. He sent more cats dressed as Justice League members and finished off the last Percy Jackson book, sending Wally updates along the way. But the whole weekend the fact that he apparently had a new job he knew nothing about and would be taken to Monday churned in the back of his mind.

It made him anxious in a way that he hadn’t been since he left Amity Park for Central city.

He didn’t much like it.

-

“Please at least tell me that I’m dressed fine for this new job?” Danny asked when he opened the door to Wally’s knock.

He didn’t really have many other options if Wally said no, he already had on his best dark jeans, cleanest boots, and his new cross body bag. He might have a button up shirt he could change into instead of the long sleeve one he was in, but that was as good as it was going to get. He just didn’t have business casual clothes with the jobs he had.

“You look fine,” Wally said.

“Not exactly a supersuit,” Danny said with a sigh, taking in Wally’s uniform.

Wally pressed a quick kiss to Danny’s cheek. “Not the kind of hero you are.”

That was something Wally had been doing, insisting that Danny was a hero. Whenever he protested, it only seemed to make Wally more insistent so Danny mostly let it be. Plus, the cute smile Wally got for ‘winning’ was nice to see.

It was gracing Wally’s lips now as Danny stepped out of his apartment, locked the door, and shoved the keys securely in his bag. One lost set of keys due to super speed was enough to make sure they were safely clipped in from then on.

“Okay. Right, let’s get this over with.”

“It’s a good thing,” Wally insisted as he squatted down for Danny to climb onto his back, “not your execution or anything.”

“I just don’t like not knowing,” Danny said.

“You love surprises.”

“Little surprises like picnics and presents, not life changing ones.”

“You’ll love it,” Wally insisted and then they were off.

-

“I’ll love an abandoned warehouse?”

“Apparently abandoned warehouse,” Wally stressed with a wave of his hands, like he was a two-bit magician.

“Convincing appearance. Once again, Flash, it’s a good thing you’re a hero because this as serial killer vibes.”

The windows were blacked out. There was a heavy layer of dust on most surfaces. The stairs to the foreman office were long rusted away. It was a mess.

But there was that feeling of being watched that crawled up Danny’s spine. None of the dust actually moved as they crossed the floor over to Barry. And the doors were either welded shut or solidly reinforced.

“Ready kids?” Barry asked.

“Still not kids,” Danny replied almost absently.

“Still don’t care!” Barry pressed one of the bricks on the wall and the whole thing shuddered and pulled back like some massive pocket door to reveal a… a portal behind the wall.

“Ta-da!” Wally said, complete with jazz hands.

Danny couldn’t tear his eyes away from the portal to look at him.

Did they know? Was this…?

“Danny?”

“What?” Danny started, forcing himself to look over at Wally who was beside him again.

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Danny winced. He just couldn’t hold back the twitch of his body at that word. “Sorry. Um, so what is that?”

“A Zeta tube, it’s how we travel to the Justice League. It’s like a transporter,” Barry explained.

Okay, right, not a portal to the Ghost Zone. No one knew. He was safe. Danny closed his eyes. It was just a transporter that looked a lot like a portal.

Wally rested his hand on Danny’s arm and Danny almost jumped from the light touch. “Babe?”

“Um, remember how I told you there was an accident in my parent’s lab when I was a kid? Yeah, um, sorta similar look, is all. It just freaked me out for a moment.”

"Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Wally said. He squeezed Danny’s arm gently.

“No way you could have known. Who has a phobia over portals, right?” Danny said as he summoned his best attempt at a smile for Wally.

“Are you okay to…” Wally glanced from Danny to the portal nervously.

“I, yes? Can you just explain to me how it will go?” Danny asked. He pressed himself close to Wally, doing what he could to scrape together his frayed nerves. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone through the actual portal that had killed him all the time. It was just that now all that felt like a lifetime ago, a lifetime no one remembered but him.

“Of course, babe,” Wally said, twining their arms together before he launched into a passionate explanation of the Zeta tubes.

It would be alright.

He could do this.

He had Wally.

-----

AN: Wally and Barry: We have something so cool to show you! Danny: *has portal based ptsd* ._.

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost!

[sunnie-angel]

Part 4: The Plan

part 3 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: one step back, one step forward in this dance with jason’s warring desires for intimacy and distance

tags: swearing, UST, light angst

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.7k

a/n: i’ve never experienced an american thanksgiving so all of my knowledge of it comes from pop culture. this is basically the last of my ‘set up’ chapters, so plot + relationship development is going to really hit their strides starting from here.

Jason is learning to live with the thousand pangs of guilt that go hand in hand with his determination to be your friend and only your friend. Guilt churns his stomach so often that it fades to just another background distraction. Every time you stiffen up when he pulls back, every time you try to catch your face before the disappointment can shine through, he sees it all. He should keep his distance, stop reeling you in close before drawing back unexpectedly, but he can’t quite manage it.

A more recent encounter is still seared into his brain. It plays behind his eyelids as he swims laps around the pool with Rei.

The two of you had been heading to the dinner two blocks off of campus after Duvall’s class, the fiery light of the sunset colouring the worn paths across the quad. Class had been predictably… painful. Reading it for his own purposes or for a group of students to discuss, Frankenstein has always struck a raw nerve. I am thy creature and I will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king, if thou wilt also perform thy part, which thou owest me. Seen and made raw by a woman and her monster years in the past, and isn’t that just the rub? The world spins, new generations live and die and live again to be just as disappointing to the men that created them. Jason’s heart had ached behind his sternum and even the usual balm of your chatter had taunted him with everything he denies himself. He’d made all the right noises, kept his head down and hands jammed into his pockets as the two of you had finally made it to the diner.

“God I almost lost it when what’s-his-name in business started talking.” You’d snorted as you’d opened up your menu, plastic pages clinging together. “Like is it really so hard to have an ounce of empathy? We should start a list of worst takes because that had to be a top five. Jay?” Jason must not have been playing his part well enough because now you’re looking at him, too silent, too caught up on the long stale nickname. “What are you thinking Jay, because I’m thinking pancakes for dinner.” All he could think of is the one and only Dick took him out for pancakes. Begrudgingly. And how it had ended with Dick storming out, suddenly excited about hanging out with the Titans, only to come back disappointed when he had realized he was Jason’s only ride.

“Don’t.” It had come out low and mean, lobbed through gritted teeth like something hot and vicious. Jason had watched it hit you, the way you’d leaned back from the table and hunched your shoulders closer. “Just don’t call me that, yeah?” It had taken concentrated effort on his part to breathe, mimic loosening the tension in his body, to look smaller and non-threatening.

“Oh. Okay, Jason.” Silence had stretched out between the two of you, an almost tangible distance. The words to explain, to apologize and smooth things over had stuck in his throat. The fading light had caught your face for a moment, your face crumpling in hurt before shuttering closed. Your blank face was burned into his mind’s eye just as clearly as all the ways he had not repaired things between you.

Jason surfaces, water sluicing off of his shoulders, before going back under for another stroke. His body takes over the pattern of striking and breathing while his mind returns to the diner. There’s a small animal part at the back of his mind that’s wary of the water. Keeps a small part of him on the look out for any tinges of green to the liquid in the irrational fear that he might also come out of this body of water changed. Actually taking Rei up on his offer to go swimming was in some ways a punishment for Jason, adrenaline thrumming through his veins until his muscles flagged from exhaustion.

Rei is waiting for him at the entrance to the gym, water bottle half empty and lid still unscrewed. His glasses keep sliding down his still damp face but he grins at Jason anyway.

“You sure you’re not looking for a spot on the swim team? Because I’m sure the team captain would get the coaches to make an exception for you.”

Re-shouldering his duffel, Jason asks, “Now why would he do that?”

“I’d do it because I want one last trophy for the relay team.” Rei says wryly.

“No shit?”

“Yeah, I don’t really advertise it because I’ve been doing it for so long that I keep forgetting new people don’t already know I swim. But if you want a spot you’re in. You lapped me like what, four times?”

“Five,” Jason says sheepishly. “Not much of a team player, so I’m gonna have to turn you down.”

“Fair enough,” Rei shrugs. “But I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You probably dodged a bullet though, the coaches are hard asses about not drinking before meets.”

“Yeah, speakin’ of drinkin’, what the hell was in those drinks you made the first night.”

Rei laughs and the conversation takes a more lighthearted turn as they head across campus to the student union. It doesn’t take much to keep the conversation going so Jason has time to turn over Rei’s invitation over in his head. Jason would never have been able to accept — spackling over his extensive scarring for even just today had been a pain — but it had given him hope that maybe even after all his mishaps with you, that he might still be achieving ‘normal’.

Wednesday comes by and Jason makes up his mind to show up the weekly study session. With the Thanksgiving weekend coming up he’s got less work than ever but an even stronger desire not to be alone. Campus has emptied out in anticipation of the long weekend, the student union almost echoingly empty. Lina and Rei are already taking up a bench, sickeningly affectionate and dodging the balled up paper scraps Danika is tossing at them. You sit next to her, rolling your eyes at her antics then egging her on whenever Lina swoops in to leave another lipstick stain on Rei’s cheeks. He hesitates before committing to the seat at the end of the table nearest to you. The fresh loukoumades burning a hole in his bag will have to be shield and apology enough.

He’s nearly there, three feet out from his target, when the sound of a chair getting angrily out of the way diverts his attention. Will is dragging his bike through the field of chairs, cursing up a storm that has even Jason with all of his years in Gotham taken aback. Quite possibly its the most words Jason’s heard Will say out loud in the scarce months he’s known the man. The incongruity of the scene with who Will generally is as a person sends most of table into nervous half laughter.

“Will? Will what’s wrong? The biking parking finally full or something?” You ask, disbelieving.

“What the fuck does it look like?” He snarls, before throwing the bike to the ground in frustration.

“Hey—“

“Will, what happened?” Lina cuts Jason off, uncurling herself from around Rei and leaning forward. Her eyes are wide and searching, and in Jason’s opinion, not suspicious enough for the uncharacteristic rage on Will’s face.

“Some motherfucking cock sucking moron nearly ran me off the sidewalk in their piece of shit gas guzzler. That’s what happened.” He goes to throw himself into the seat next to you but Jason beats him to it, larger frame boxing him out. Throwing Jason an annoyed glance, Will slouches into the only seat left. He brandishes his coat clad arm in front of Lina and Rei, still thrumming with pent up energy.

“Look what they did!” He exclaims.

“I don’t think any of the bandaids in my bag are big enough for that scrape.” Rei says regretfully.

“What— never mind the scrape, look what they did to my coat!” He pulls the fabric tight across his wrist, shoving it under their noses. Rei and Lina give each other confused looks over Will’s head.

“There’s a lose thread?” Questions Danika.

“Yes! Thank you, yes! That idiotic jackass made me scrape up my Loro Piana jacket, do you know how much this costs?!”

“So,” Danika interjects, “won’t your family just buy you a new one and write this off for taxes or something?”

“That’s not— okay that piece of shit not only destroyed my jacket and put my life at risk but he’s also polluting with his mid-life crisis pollutant puker. You know there’s a reason Gotham ranks worst in pollution for cities in New Jersey? It’s thanks to people like that who don’t care that their cars are leaking oil and going knocking people — who are just trying to be nice to the environment — off of their bikes when they were just minding their own—“

“Report it to the police or campus security then.” Jason interrupts, before Will can get into the rant he’s building up steam for. “You got close enough to see the oil leaking, you probably saw the license plate too.” Jason pulls the loukoumades out of his bag and slides them over to you, keeping eye contact with Will the whole while. Will breaks eye contact first, pulling his perfectly intact black wool coat tighter around him before shoving his hands deep in the pockets. You’ve cracked open the container and let out a hum of delight. Will’s eyes dart to the table.

“Didn’t get it. How was I supposed to know that one minute I’d be riding along, and then the next I’d be traumatized for life by some inconsiderate brute?” He sulks. And oh, yeah, not everyone had grown up with B and all of his lessons on paying attention to your environment for evidence.

“Yeah, speaking of trauma, who’s got plans for thanksgiving yet?” Danika asks, mirth and humour her weapon against the atmosphere.

A sharp elbow knocks once into Jason’s ribs. He turns to look down at you, hoping your bid for attention won’t turn out to be disappointing. You meet his gaze with cheeks stuffed full of fried dough and honeyed syrup, eyes narrowed and considering.

“They’re not pancakes, but I thought you’d like ‘em anyway.” Jason says.

You swallow, before beginning to speak in a low voice, letting the flow of conversation continue around the two of you undisturbed. “If this is an apology, there better be more from where that came from.” Your small lopsided smile is sincere, but it doesn’t quite erase the image of your blank face from the dinner from his memory. Nodding, he goes to pull out the second Tupperware container that he’d had the foresight to prepare and you begin to lick the leftover syrup from your fingers. Jason’s vision narrows down to your thumb and forefinger, glistening in the fluorescent lights. He could swear his heart skips a beat when your pink tongue flicks out, his breathing certifiably irregular when you start to suck on your fingers. The image of your lips shiny from syrup will probably be engraved on his second headstone as the cause of death.

“—son, Jason.” Danika’s voice, high pitched and insistent, breaks the moment. He’d be embarrassed at tuning out his situational awareness if he wasn’t also scrambling to answer her half-heard question.

“No plans for me. My family and I aren’t really in a ‘gatherings and gratitude’ place right now.”

“Whoops, we’ll add your family to the off-limits list. What do you usually do then?”

Your phone starts buzzing, and you swear under your breath as you navigate sticky fingers and tight jean pockets.

“I just make a fancier meal than normal, watch the parade on the tv. Not much to it.” He replies off-handedly. He doesn’t mention the extra patrols he’ll do, in anticipation of one of the Rogues deciding to make a splash across holiday headlines.

“Sorry, I’ve got to answer this.” And already you’re trying to climb over Jason to get out from the booth and away from the table. It brings your face closer to his than it’s ever been and Jason would be trying to pin a name to the exact shade of your eyes if it wasn’t for the worry on your face. The nearly empty building means that you don’t wander far from the group. You pace as you listen to whoever is on the phone and play with the charm on your necklace. Will catches on to Jason’s line of sight and rolls his eyes, still sulking in his chair.

“So there’s a whole list, yeah? Things you don’t talk about?” Jason asks, trying to distract himself.

“Oh I wouldn’t call it anything so official.” Lina dismisses.

“No but we totally should!” Fires back Danika. “It would make things sooo much less awkward if Jason knew not to bring up just how much money Will’s rolling in, or the fact that Rei hates talking about the team right before a swim meet, or that when she,” and here Danika lowers her voice and nods in your direction, “plays with her necklace on a phone call fifty bucks says it’s someone from her family.”

“Got it, no askin’ her about the secret phone calls.” Jason says with a tight smile.

“Oh it’s nothing super secret.” Danika leans back into the corner and waves a lazy hand. “Just that most of them were dead set against her doing English instead of some ‘useful degree’ like pre-med or engineering. Don’t know why though, I don’t think’ I’ve ever met anyone that hates calculus more.”

But Jason, Jason thinks he does know why. Puts together the little pieces of your past you’d entrusted to his scarred hands and looks to the shared weft of your past. Looks at a girl whose family had scraped and fought to make a life untouched by poverty in a city that doesn’t easily forgive, and knows that it took luck and bone wearying effort to make it out of the Alley’s clutches. He looks at the girl who is used to being told her opinions don’t matter and yet believing in them anyway, who has put together a path leading right to her dreams even if the detours take her back to the place her family was happy to leave behind. Jason looks around the table at these fresh faced kids in their $6000 jackets and knows that none of them understand the constant, cavernous fear that all of the little luxuries they take for granted will suddenly disappear like morning fog. Jason knows the kind of courage it takes to push past that dogged fear and refuse the path your family pushes you down in order to achieve loftier goals.

The conversation has moved past him now, wrapped in his reverie. Rei and Danika have devolved into the kind of hardline negotiation Jason would have expected to see between seasoned lawyers rather than undergrads.

“C’mon Danika, I know you want a Pinterest worthy friends-giving but it’s just not going to work out this year.” Rei chides. “There’s just no time that’s gonna work for all of us.”

“Yes but it’s our last year when we’re all for sure going to be in the same place for the holiday weekend!”

“Look, we should all be free the Friday after the long weekend. We’ll do another night out, me and Lina will host the pre, and it’ll be our version of friends-giving. I’ll even make turkey themed cocktails if you want.”

“Gross! Fine, fine.” Danika most definitely does not whine. “But make them pumpkin pie themed cocktails instead.”

Jason’s got half an ear on the conversation, but continues to study you as long as his input isn’t needed. You sigh and seem to deflate as your call ends.

“So boys, are you ready to see the damage Rei can do when he’s got his full bar cart with him?” Lina asks, coy as anything. “I’m sure he’ll be able to make something that will even get you dancing, Jason.”

You shuffle around Jason, trying to squirm back into your bench seat. For a brief moment, your thighs bracket his.

“If that’s the plan,” Jason breathes out shakily.

Part 5

[lila-lou]

✨His second exception - Pt. 13/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff

Word Count: 6157

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 13 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the evening arrived, you stirred in Ben’s arms, still feeling a bit groggy from your extended nap. You blinked slowly, adjusting to the dim light of the room as you realized the day had slipped away while you rested.

Ben, feeling you move, tightened his hold slightly and murmured, “Hey, good nap?”.

You nestled closer to him, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his embrace. “yeah”, you admitted, your voice soft and slightly raspy from sleep. “How long was I out?”.

“Pretty much the whole afternoon”, Ben replied, a grin playing on his lips. “You needed it, though. Growing a little supe is hard work”.

You chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against his chest. “Yeah, I guess it is”, you agreed, a sense of contentment washing over you.

Ben’s fingers traced light patterns on your back, his touch soothing and affectionate. “I was thinking we could just stay in tonight. Maybe order some takeout and watch a movie or something?”.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “That sounds perfect”, you said, smiling. “I’m not sure I’m up for anything more strenuous than that right now”.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.

A week later, on Monday, the two of you got up early to head to work. While Ben made coffee in the kitchen, you busied yourself getting ready. To your disappointment, every pair of jeans you tried on felt like it cut into your stomach. You felt beyond bloated, and the constant tiredness lingered, making everything feel like more of a chore. Eventually, you decided on a comfy, soft dress that gave you some relief.

As you walked towards Ben in the kitchen and leaned in to kiss him. But as you tasted the coffee on his lips, your stomach churned violently. "Oh shit", you mumbled, holding your hand in front of your mouth as you bolted towards the bathroom.

Ben's brow furrowed in concern, though he couldn't resist a slight grumble, "That's one way to react to me". He followed you quickly, the worry evident in his eyes as he reached the bathroom door.

You were kneeling by the toilet, your body heaving as nausea overtook you. Ben crouched beside you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Breathe, baby. Just breathe", he murmured, his voice soft and comforting.

“You okay?”, he asked softly, his voice laced with worry.

You nodded weakly, taking deep breaths as you tried to settle your stomach. “Yeah, I think so”, you managed to say, your voice shaky.

“I guess the baby doesn’t like coffee”, he said with a gentle tease, trying to lighten the mood.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to make you feel better. “Seems like it”, you replied, leaning against him for support.

“Ugh”, you mumbled. “I certainly didn’t miss this”, you said, referring to the morning sickness.

Ben chuckled softly, guiding you to the sink. “You and me both”, he said with a playful glint in his eye. “Though, I have to admit, you’re even more adorable when you’re all grumpy and groggy”.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Flattery will get you nowhere, mister”, you teased back, squeezing some toothpaste onto your toothbrush.

Ben grumbled under his breath, “You know, I’d much rather have you at home than at the tower. Less stress for both of us”.

You shot him an annoyed glance. “Ben, we’ve been over this. I’m not just going to sit around at home”.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument. “I know, I know. Just fucking wishful thinking".

After you finished brushing your teeth, you both headed out to the car. The morning was still cool and crisp as you settled into the passenger seat, Ben taking the wheel.

As the two of you sat in the car, Ben driving, you couldn’t help but gag repeatedly, fighting the persistent nausea that refused to let up. Ben glanced over at you with concern, then tried to lighten the mood with some teasing.

“You know, if our baby ends up being as picky as this, we’re in for a wild ride”, he said with a smirk.

You managed a weak smile despite feeling miserable. “I hope it get your iron stomach, not mine”.

Ben chuckled.

You gagged again, and Ben quickly added, “At least you’re getting it all out now. Imagine if this happened during a meeting”.

You groaned at the thought. “Please, don’t jinx it”.

Ben laughed softly, his eyes full of affection. “Hey, maybe I should start carrying a bucket around for you. Or a ‘morning sickness emergency kit.’ It could be a new trend”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image. “You’re ridiculous”-

“But you love me for it”, he replied, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Unfortunately, yes”, you teased back, feeling a bit better thanks to his humor.

By the time you arrived at work, you felt more composed, if not entirely free of nausea. The two of you got out of the car, and Ben, in his supe suit, naturally drew attention as he always did when walking through the tower. His hand rested at your lower back, guiding you to the elevators.

Inside the elevator, A-Train stood there, sipping his shake as he saw the two of you. “Soldier Boy, I wanted to talk to you. I have an idea about—”, he started, but Ben cut him off, grumpy as always.

You rolled your eyes at Ben’s abruptness and turned to A-Train. “What idea?”, you asked gently, trying to smooth over the interaction.

A-Train looked at you with gratitude, then launched into his explanation. “I was thinking about founding a training camp for supe kids and normal kids from troubled families. Kids who are into sports. I’d train them, help them develop their skills, give them a sense of direction and purpose”.

You nodded, intrigued. “That sounds like a fantastic idea, A-Train. It could really make a difference in their lives”.

Ben grunted, clearly not in the best mood but still listening. “And how exactly do you plan to manage this? Between missions and everything else?”.

A-Train straightened up, determination in his eyes. “I’ve already thought about that. We can schedule training sessions around our missions, and I can get some of the other supes to help out too. It’s not just about training their powers but also teaching them discipline, teamwork, and responsibility”.

You smiled, impressed by A-Train’s passion and foresight. “I think it’s worth a shot, Ben. We always talk about how the next generation needs better guidance”.

Ben sighed, looking from you to A-Train. “Fine. I’ll consider it. But you better have a solid plan ready to present by the end of the week, or it’s off the table”.

A-Train nodded eagerly. “You got it”.

The elevator dinged, signaling it had reached the top floor. The doors slid open, and the three of you stepped out, making your way toward the meeting room. The hallway buzzed with the usual activity, staff members moving about their business.

As you entered the meeting room, you were greeted by the smell of nail polish. Kimiko sat at the table, calmly painting her fingernails as if it were the most normal thing in the world. The sharp scent hit you hard, and you gagged, trying your best to hide it.

But, of course, Ben noticed immediately. “Eh! China, don’t do this fucking shit in here!”, he snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Kimiko rolled her eyes and responded in sign language, her expression unimpressed. You’re such a dick, she signed.

Frenchie, sitting next to her, couldn’t suppress his chuckle. “She’s right, you know. Not everyone is cut out for your military discipline, mon ami”.

Ben glared at him but didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his attention back to you, concern evident in his eyes. “You okay?”.

You nodded, though you still felt queasy. “I’ll be fine”, you whispered, grateful for his protective nature despite his grumpiness.

The meeting began, and you did your best to focus on the discussions, even as the lingering smell of nail polish made your stomach churn. Ben kept a close eye on you, his hand occasionally squeezing yours under the table as a silent show of support.

At one point, Ben cleared his throat and turned to the team. “What about the supe kids in Europe? Are they keeping it lowkey, or are they being crazy again?”.

Frenchie leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a mixed bag, really. Some of them are trying to stay under the radar, but we’ve had reports of a few causing trouble. Mostly in Eastern Europe. The authorities are having a hard time keeping things under control”.

Kimiko, who had finished her nails and was now fanning them dry, signed, They’re young and reckless. They need guidance, just like A-Train’s program.

Ben nodded, taking in the information. “We need to keep an eye on that situation. Last thing we need is an international incident because some kid can’t control their powers”.

A-Train, ever the eager participant, chimed in. “Maybe we can expand the training camp idea internationally. Set up satellite programs to help those kids too”.

You smiled at the idea, appreciating A-Train’s enthusiasm. “That could be a great long-term goal. But we should probably start with one successful camp here first and use it as a model”.

Ben grunted in agreement. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. One fucking step at a time. But it’s something to think about”.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly, with everyone contributing ideas and discussing ongoing projects.

While Ben continued to talk to Butcher about the situation with the supe kids in Europe, the rest of the team began to file out of the meeting room. As you stood up, your stomach rumbled loudly, catching the attention of both Ben and Butcher.

Butcher raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Oi, Soldier Boy, you not feeding her properly or what?”.

Ben rolled his eyes and shot back, “Last I checked, I don’t need fucking advice from someone who thinks a balanced diet is a six-pack and a pack of cigarettes”.

Butcher laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the banter. “Touché, mate. Touché”.

You couldn’t help but grin at their exchange, feeling a surprising surge of hunger wash over you. “Actually, I could really use some food right now”, you admitted.

Ben’s expression softened as he turned to you. “Let’s get you something to eat then”. He placed a gentle hand on your back, guiding you towards the cafeteria.

Butcher called after you both, still grinning. “Take care of her, Soldier Boy. She’s the brains of this operation”.

Ben waved him off with a smirk. “Don’t I fucking know it”.

As you walked down the hallway, the smell of food from the cafeteria became more enticing. Your hunger grew, making you realize just how much you needed to eat.

When you arrived at the cafeteria, Ben quickly found a table and then went to gather a variety of food items, ensuring there was something you’d be able to stomach. He returned with a tray filled with toast, fruit, yogurt, and a cup of herbal tea.

“Here you go”, he said, setting the tray down in front of you.

You smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Ben. I don’t know where this sudden hunger came from, but I appreciate it”.

As you started to eat, Ben sat beside you, his arm draped casually over the back of your chair. “Feeling any better?”, he asked, watching you with concern.

You nodded between bites. “Yeah, actually. This is helping a lot”.

At noon, you made your way towards Ben’s office, ready to grab some lunch. However, when you arrived, you found that he was at an appointment with the vice president and Butcher. With a sigh, you decided to wait for him, taking a seat on the comfortable couch in his office.

The morning’s events, combined with the lingering effects of your morning sickness, had left you feeling more exhausted than you realized. As you settled into the couch, your eyelids grew heavy, and before you knew it, you drifted off to sleep.

A little while later, Ben entered the office, fresh from his meeting. He paused when he saw you sleeping peacefully on the couch, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He carefully approached, not wanting to wake you, and gently draped a blanket over you.

He then sat down at his desk, working quietly to avoid disturbing your rest. The soft tapping of his keyboard was a soothing backdrop as you slept, providing a comforting sense of normalcy.

Ben still got used to all the technology, but he did a decent job by now, though you did most of the work for him.

The next two weeks passed without anything special happening. By now you were eight weeks pregnant, still feeling tired all the time and vomiting nearly 24/7.

One particularly rough night, Ben was trying to get some sleep, but you found yourself hanging over the toilet, feeling utterly exhausted. The relentless nausea and fatigue had taken their toll, and you felt as though you were running on empty.

Ben stirred and noticed your absence from the bed. He sighed softly, pushing back the covers and getting up. Padding quietly into the bathroom, he found you leaning over the toilet, your face pale and drawn.

“Hey”, he said gently, kneeling beside you and rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Rough night?”.

You nodded weakly, not having the energy to speak. The retching had left you feeling drained, and all you wanted was for the nausea to end.

Ben, trying to lighten the mood, offered a gentle tease. “You know, when they said pregnancy was a beautiful journey, I don’t think they mentioned the part where you become best friends with the toilet”.

Despite feeling miserable, you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, they definitely left that part out”, you replied weakly, appreciating his attempt to make you smile.

He continued to rub your back, his touch soothing.

“You should go back to bed”, you mumbled softly, feeling guilty for keeping him up.

Ben shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. “Not a chance. I’m not leaving you alone like this”.

You sighed, appreciating his support but also worried about his rest. “I don’t want you to be exhausted too. You need sleep, Ben”.

“Shut up”, he grinned, kissing your temple. “I’m right where I need to be”.

For over an hour, Ben stayed by your side, kneeling next to you and rubbing your back. His presence was a constant source of comfort, and despite your exhaustion and discomfort, you felt grateful for his unwavering support.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the nausea began to subside enough for you to think about standing up. You sighed in relief, feeling a bit steadier. “I think I can stand now”, you said softly.

Ben helped you up gently, his arm around your waist to support you. “Take it slow”, he advised, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, leaning on him as you made your way to the sink to brush your teeth. The simple act of cleaning your mouth helped to remove the lingering taste, making you feel a bit more human.

As you brushed your teeth, Ben stood beside you, ready to catch you if needed. You appreciated his constant vigilance, even if he didn’t say much. His presence was enough.

Once you finished, you rinsed your mouth and looked at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired and pale, but you felt a bit better.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed”, Ben mumbled, his voice filled with gentle concern. He guided you slowly and carefully, making sure you were steady on your feet.

Back in the bedroom, Ben helped you settle into bed, arranging the pillows to ensure you were comfortable. He pulled the blanket over you, tucking you in with tender care. “You need to rest”, he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead.

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you down. “Thank you, Ben”, you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Ben just kissed your forehead before slipping next to you under the covers and pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you, providing a sense of security and warmth that made it easier to relax.

“Try to get some sleep”, he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “I’ll be right here if you need anything”.

You nestled into his embrace, feeling his steady heartbeat against your back. The comfort of his presence and the gentle rhythm of his breathing began to lull you into a deeper state of relaxation.

“Love you”, you mumbled, already half-asleep.

“Love you too”, he replied softly, his voice filled with warmth and tenderness.

The room fell into a peaceful silence, the only sounds being the faint hum of the night outside and the soothing rhythm of Ben’s breathing. You felt a sense of calm wash over you, and despite the rough night, you knew you were in good hands

The next day, Ben’s alarm went off, its soft chime breaking the tranquility of the early morning. He reached over to silence it quickly, not wanting to disturb you. The faint light of dawn was just beginning to seep through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room.

You stirred slightly, feeling Ben’s presence beside you. He looked down at you, his expression tender. “Morning”, he whispered, brushing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Morning”, you replied, your voice still heavy with sleep. “What time is it?”.

“Early”, he said softly.

You sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion still lingering from the night before. “I’ll get up”, you mumbled, trying to muster the energy to move.

Ben wrapped his arms around you a little tighter, his hand finding its way to your still flat belly. “You should better stay at home”, he mumbled into your ear, his tone a mix of concern and playful insistence.

You sighed, knowing he meant well but also feeling the need to keep up with your responsibilities. “Ben, we’ve talked about this. I can’t just stay home all the time”.

He sighed, relenting. “Fine, but you’re taking it easy today. No overdoing it, and if you start feeling sick, you’re coming going back home”.

“Deal”, you agreed, feeling a bit more energized by his support.

Ben helped you out of bed, his hand lingering protectively on your belly for a moment longer. “I’m serious”, he said. “I worry about you”.

“I know”, you replied, kissing him gently. “And I love you for it”.

A few minutes later, Ben was in the kitchen. Just when he was about to hit the coffee machine, he remembered the smell of coffee making you gag. He grumbled quietly to himself and looked through the fridge, finding some energy drinks that you used to drink but couldn’t anymore. Sighing, he decided to give one a try.

He took a sip and immediately grimaced, clearly not enjoying the taste. Ben looked around the kitchen, his eyes landing on your black Stanley cup. An idea came to mind, and he grinned mischievously.

He filled the Stanley cup with the energy drink, then grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and poured a generous amount inside, nearly filling the cup. He gave it a good shake, making sure it was well-mixed. “Desperate times call for fucking desperate measures”, he muttered to himself.

Just as he was about to take another sip, you walked into the kitchen, still looking a bit pale but determined. You saw the Stanley cup in his hand and raised an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”.

Ben grinned sheepishly. “Trying to find an alternative to coffee. This… concoction is the best I could come up with”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his creativity. “Is that an energy drink mixed with whiskey?”.

“Yep”, he admitted, taking a cautious sip. He made a face but swallowed it down. “Not great, but it’ll do the job”.

You shook your head, amused. “You’re something else, Ben”.

He grinned, pulling you close by your waist and kissing your lips gently. “Better than having you fucking puke all over me”, he mumbled against your lips, his playful tone making you smile.

You chuckled, resting your forehead against his. “I appreciate the sacrifice”, you said softly, feeling a warmth spread through you despite the morning’s challenges.

Ben held you for a moment longer, his hands resting protectively on your lower back. “You sure you’re up for today?”, he asked.

“I’ll be okay”, you reassured him, feeling a bit more confident with his support. “We have a lot to do, and I don’t want to fall behind”.

He sighed but nodded, knowing how determined you were. “Alright, but remember our deal. Take it easy and let me know if you need to come home”.

You nodded, biting your lip as Ben crouched down in front of you, pulling up your dress just high enough to reveal your stomach. He gently pressed his ear against your belly, closing his eyes to focus. With his enhanced senses, he could hear everything – your bloodstream, the baby’s heartbeat, and every little movement.

“Hey intruder”, he murmured in his own rough way, his voice filled with affection. “You be good to your mom today, alright? Don’t give her any fucking trouble”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his choice of words, playfully shoving his shoulder. “Ben, you can’t talk to the baby like that”.

He looked up at you with a mischievous grin. “Why not? Don’t want to raise a fucking pussy, do we?”.

You rolled your eyes but smiled, knowing this was his way of expressing love and care. “Fine, but maybe tone it down a bit?”.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your belly. “Love you”, he whispered so quietly against your belly that you couldn’t hear it. He instantly blushed, quickly clearing his throat.

“What did you say?”, you asked, catching his sudden change in demeanor.

Ben stood up, avoiding your eyes for a moment. “Nothing”, he mumbled, clearly flustered.

You grinned, sensing an opportunity to tease him. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, huh? Whispering sweet nothings to the baby and leaving me out of it? You better not be planning on playing the baby out against me”, you teased, playfully poking his chest.

He finally met your gaze, his blush deepening as he realized you were teasing him. “What? No way. I just… well, I didn’t think you needed to hear it”, he stammered, clearly not used to being on the receiving end of teasing.

You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m just messing with you, Ben. But just so you know, this baby and I are a package deal. If you’re going to be all sweet and sappy with it, you’d better include me too”.

He smirked, finally relaxing a little. “Fine, but don’t expect too much sap”.

You tilted your head, pretending to think it over. “I don’t know… I think you’re secretly a softie”.

He rolled his eyes before the playful glint in his eyes returned as he grabbed the back of your neck with a firm grip. The roughness was affectionate, unmistakably Ben’s way of showing his feelings. He pulled you close, his breath warm against your lips before he pressed a firm kiss on them.

You melted into the kiss, feeling the mixture of his tenderness and strength. When he pulled back, there was a teasing grin on his face. “You keep calling me a softie, and I’ll have to prove you fucking wrong”.

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d like to see you try”.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re trouble, you know that?”.

“Maybe”, you replied, a playful glint in your eyes. “But I’m your kind of trouble”.

“Damn right”, he said, his voice dropping into that familiar, rough tone that always made your heart skip a beat. “Now, come on, let’s get through this day. And remember, no overdoing it. I don’t want to have to carry you out of the tower like some damsel in distress”.

You laughed, leaning into him as you both headed toward the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. But if I do need rescuing, you better make it look good”.

Ben grinned, holding the door open for you. “Oh, I’ll make sure it’s one for the history books”.

The days passed, and by now, you were 12 weeks pregnant. To both your and Ben’s surprise, you were already starting to show. Despite losing a few pounds due to the relentless nausea, your belly had begun to stand out, giving you a slightly bloated appearance. Most days, you opted for loose clothing to hide the bump, not quite ready to share the news with everyone just yet. But the nausea and exhaustion remained constant companions, making even the simplest tasks feel like monumental efforts.

Today was no exception. Your parents were coming over for a barbecue, and you were determined to put on a brave face, even though the smell of the raw meat made your stomach churn. Ben had insisted on handling most of the preparation, but you were stubborn, wanting to contribute in some way.

As you stood in the kitchen, trying to marinate the meat without gagging, Ben walked in, eyeing you with concern. “You sure you’re up for this?”, he asked. “You don’t have to push yourself. I can handle everything”.

You forced a smile, though the nausea was making it hard to keep up the facade. “I’m fine”, you insisted, though your face paled slightly as you caught another whiff of the marinade. “Just… taking it slow".

As you stood over the counter, the smell of the marinade suddenly became overwhelming, and you gagged again, bringing your arm up to cover your mouth. You tried to push through it, but the nausea hit you in waves, making it nearly impossible to continue.

Ben, who had been watching you closely, quickly stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough”, he said with a chuckle, gently but firmly shoving you away from the counter. “Go wash your hands. I got this”.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You hurried over to the sink, trying to steady your breathing as you scrubbed your hands. The cool water felt refreshing against your skin, but it did little to ease the queasiness swirling in your stomach.

As you leaned against the counter, trying to collect yourself, Ben glanced over at you with a teasing grin. “You know, if you wanted an excuse to get out of cooking, you could’ve just said so”, he quipped, his tone light and playful.

You rolled your eyes, managing a weak smile despite the lingering nausea. “Trust me, I’d much rather be able to cook without feeling like I’m going to puke everywhere”.

Ben chuckled, finishing up with the marinade and setting it aside.

After finishing up with the marinade and washing his hands, Ben turned to you with that familiar mischievous grin. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, his body pressing firmly against yours. You could feel the heat of his body, and his hips pressed suggestively against you, making you flush.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “If you need a distraction from feeling sick, I can think of a few ways to help”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, though you playfully swatted his chest. “Oh, is that right? I’m not sure that would help with the nausea”.

He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzled your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “You never know. Could take your mind off things”, he teased, giving you a little more pressure from his hips.

You rolled your eyes, though your smile widened despite the queasiness. “You’re impossible, you know that?”.

Ben’s grin widened, and the mischievous glint in his eyes grew more intense. “Impossible? I’d say I’m just getting started”, he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he pressed his body even closer to yours. “You have no idea what I could do to make you forget all about that nausea”.

His words sent a thrill through you, and you felt your cheeks heat up as he continued to nuzzle your neck, his lips grazing your skin. “I could take you right here”, he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Make you feel so fucking good, you’d forget all about the kitchen, the barbecue, and everything else”.

You bit your lip, feeling your pulse quicken despite yourself. “Ben…”, you started, but he cut you off, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss that left you breathless.

When he pulled back, he gave you that roguish smirk you knew so well. “Or maybe I’ll wait until later”, he teased, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. “When we’re alone, and I can take my time with you. Slowly, thoroughly… until you’re begging for more”.

The combination of his words and the feel of his body against yours made your head spin, and for a moment, you almost forgot about the queasiness that had been plaguing you all day.

You had been trying to ignore it for days, but the way Ben’s dirty mouth, his touch, and even the scent of his cologne seemed to set your entire body on edge was impossible to deny any longer. The truth was, you were hyper-sensitive to everything about him lately. His deep, gravelly voice sent shivers down your spine; the way his hands gripped your hips made your knees weak; and even just the smell of him—woodsy and masculine—was enough to make you feel like you were on fire.

It didn’t help that it had been a while since the two of you had really been together. Between his duties at the tower and your constant exhaustion, opportunities for intimacy had been few and far between. But now, with him so close, his words laced with that tantalizing promise of what he could do to you, it was becoming harder and harder to resist the pull.

You could feel the heat rising in your body, an ache building in your core that you knew only Ben could satisfy. The way he was looking at you, the way he was pressing against you—it was driving you crazy.

“Ben”, you whispered, your voice betraying the longing that was building inside you.

He noticed the shift in your tone immediately, his teasing smirk turning into something more intense. “Yeah?”, he asked, his voice low, almost a growl as he leaned in closer.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “You’re killing me here”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been too long”.

Ben’s eyes darkened with desire as he realized what you were saying. He moved his hands from your hips to the small of your back, pulling you even closer, if that were possible. “Is that right?”, he murmured against your ear, his voice thick with heat. “And here I thought I was being patient, waiting for the right time”.

Your hands clutched at his shirt, your body trembling with anticipation. “I don’t want to wait”, you whispered, your need for him making you bold. “I need you, Ben. Now”.

For a moment, Ben seemed to be considering something, his eyes searching yours. Then, with a sudden movement, he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter, making you gasp in surprise.

“You sure about this?”, he asked. “We’ve got people coming over soon”.

You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. “I don’t care”, you breathed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I just need you. Please”.

That was all the encouragement Ben needed. With a low growl, he captured your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive intensity that made your head spin. All thoughts of the barbecue, your parents would soon be arriving, flew out of your mind as he claimed you right there on the kitchen counter.

As the intensity between you heightened, Ben was mindful of the limited time you both had. With swift movements, he adjusted your position, sliding your dress up to your hips and gently tugging your panties aside. Meanwhile, he managed to unbuckle his belt and lower his jeans and boxers just enough to free himself.

The urgency in his eyes matched the quickening pulse you felt racing through your body. He aligned himself with you, his gaze locked with yours, seeking a silent consent which you eagerly gave with a nod. The atmosphere was charged with an electric anticipation.

Ben paused, the head of his hardness pressing against you, both of you savoring the moment of exquisite tension. Then, with a controlled but deep thrust, he entered you fully, filling you in one smooth, firm motion. A gasp escaped your lips, not just from the sensation of him stretching and filling you completely but also from the deep connection that pulsed between you with every heartbeat.

Just then, the sound of the doorbell suddenly rang out, loud and jarring in the quiet of your shared space. The timing couldn’t have been worse—it was like being doused in cold water, pulling both of you abruptly back to reality. Your parents had arrived early.

Ben froze, his body tense as he processed the situation. His breath came in heavy pants, mingling with yours as you both tried to come to grips with the interruption. The frustration was palpable, the moment so close to completion yet torn away by the ringing doorbell.

“Fucking shit”, Ben muttered under his breath, his voice filled with both irritation and regret. He rested his forehead against yours for a brief second, the tension in his body clear as he struggled to decide whether to pull away or finish what you’d started.

You, equally desperate and breathless, gave him a look that was a mix of longing and exasperation. “They’re early”, you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips.

Ben sighed deeply, then slowly, reluctantly began to pull back. You both groaned at the loss, the sudden emptiness leaving you feeling even more frustrated. He paused for a brief moment, pressing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss, as if to apologize for the interruption.

“I’ll get the door”, he murmured, his voice thick with the desire still coursing through him.

You whimpered in frustration, the ache of desire still throbbing through your body as you reluctantly slid down from the counter. You could feel the loss keenly as you pulled your panties back into place, your body still yearning for the completion that had been so cruelly interrupted.

Ben, equally frustrated, took a deep breath to steady himself. He quickly pulled up his jeans, his movements tense as he adjusted himself, trying to hide the evidence of your interrupted moment. His eyes met yours, and you could see the same mix of desire and annoyance reflected in them.

"Later", he promised, his voice low and rough, as he brushed a thumb gently over your lips before turning to head toward the door.

You nodded, your breath still shaky, feeling the lingering heat of his touch as he walked away. You could hear him trying to compose himself, taking a few deep breaths as he approached the door.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to smooth it down and compose yourself. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, and you took a moment to steady your breathing before stepping out of the kitchen.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

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Part 14

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie

[korraofthereef]

BASED OFF THIS ASK

warnings — smut , p in v , jealousy trope

18+ MDNI

Bruce Wayne had always been a busy man. As much as he tried to make time for you, there were always pressing matters that demanded his attention. Tonight was no different.

You sat in the corner of the lavish gala, watching as Bruce engaged in polite conversation with a stunning woman. Her laughter echoed across the room, and the way she casually touched his arm made your stomach churn.

Why did he have to be so charming? You knew it was part of the persona, part of being Gotham’s most eligible bachelor, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

He glanced your way, a brief flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. When Bruce finally managed to remove himself from the conversation and make his way over to you, you tried to keep your voice steady.

“Having fun?” you asked, aiming for nonchalance.

“Just business,” he replied, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “You know how it is.”

“Business with someone who looks like she walked out of a fashion magazine?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Are you jealous?”

You looked away, fiddling with the hem of your dress. “No, of course not. It’s just... I’m not blind, Bruce.”

He gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re the only one I want.”

His sincerity was disarming, and the jealousy that had been gnawing at you began to fade. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he said, pulling you into a reassuring embrace.

Bruce spent the rest of that night’s evening with his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, letting everyone with eyes take in the scene for themself.

But once the guests had gone and Wayne manor was left to the two of you, Bruce had you face down on his fancy leather count, dress bunched up to your waist with your knees tucked under you.

His hot breath fanned your cheek but it was hard to notice with the constant sensation of Bruce Wayne pounding into you like there wasn’t just an old couple occupying this couch not even twenty minutes ago.

“No one could rip me away from you, you know why, hun?” His gravel filled voice scratched the ear of yours facing the air.

All you could manage was a slight whine—and boy did it make Bruce feel pride swell in his chest.

“Because no person on the planet could be this perfect for me. . . This pliant—because my woman knows me better than anyone.” And god bless anyone who tried to deny it.

With his hips increasing in speed at the same time your moans grew in pitch, an ending so beautiful to your night that you couldn’t have pictures it better yourself.

He filled you so good, he always did. Laying in the aftershocks of your orgasm with Bruce already pulling up his pants and grabbing ahold of your shoulder to pull you up the couch, the billionaire sat in the space where your face previously called home and placed you head in his muscle riddled lap.

“There’s no need to be jealous, hun. Only my girl will do it for me.”

[whosyuno]

hotel paradise 2 (m) | ft. jung jaehyun & johnny suh

summary you visit an exclusive brothel for the second time to satisfy your needs. cw smut, oral (m&f receiving), anal, threesome, blind fold, double pen word count 3.5k a/n this... came out much filthier than i had intended it to. and also this is me recreating that "god gave me two holes for a reason" tweet (see here) chap one three

Your second visit to Hotel Paradise came after a total of eight days, eighteen hours and ten minutes from your first. You counted, but of course you counted. No one had made you feel the way Jaehyun did. It was all you could think of, the memories churned in your head day-in day-out. You had abstained from touching yourself all this time, in part due to pure exhaustion from work but mostly because you wanted to keep yourself ready for Jaehyun. This time, you had dressed for the occasion. Well, at least, under your baggy hoodie and sweatpants. You wore a matching white lingerie set under your unassuming clothes. With white lace details around your chest, a similar printed lace pattern on the high waisted panties and a corset attached, you’ve never felt sexier. Plus, you had decided to put on a fuller face of makeup than previously, -. thicker eyeliner, a bolder pink lipstick and mascara. 

Slut.

Just recalling Jaehyun’s velvety voice sent excitement down your spine. You wanted to parade your body to him, make him touch you in ways you’ve never been. Most of all, you wanted him to see your efforts to impress him and call you all sorts of degrading things. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Taeyeon - the same receptionist as before - said in a small pout, “he’s currently busy. Would you-” 

Before she could complete her sentence, a rich baritone voice interrupted from the middle of the spiral staircase, “I’m free.” 

Your attention was instantaneously drawn by the man - which started to seem to be a repeating pattern with all the workers at Hotel Paradise. The man had his chestnut coloured hair neatly pushed back, every strand deliberately placed, and his half-lidded eyes were trailed on you as he walked down. He wore a simple loose white t-shirt and blue denim jeans, an outfit so simple but somehow managed to look like he had stepped straight out of an issue of Men’s Vogue. A blush creeped on your cheeks. 

“I’m free for you,” the man was quick to reach for your hand, planting a soft peck on the back of your hand, “so won’t you choose me?” 

“Johnny, you can’t-” Taeyeon began, but you had already made up your mind.

“It’s okay,” you assured her, your eyes entirely captivated by Johnny’s dark chocolate gaze, “I’ll take him.” 

Your answer widened his mischievous smile. The attention that Johnny gave you was impossible to shake, a testament to his cool charisma., Your eyes remained locked with his the entire time Taeyeon was settling the administration. You hadn’t even noticed Taeyeon speaking to you until Johnny gently tugged on your now-intertwined-with-his hand, urging you towards him. But before he could whisk you away, you managed to sneak a glance at the plaque in anticipation. Johnny Suh, Blind Fold and Anal.

The short minutes spent reaching Johnny’s room - the second room to your right - felt like complete eternity as your mind filled your imagination with explicit images. Of course, you’ve never taken part in blindfold play, much less anal. Yet that ignorance only served as fuel for your excitement. You wanted to be completely ruined at the hands of a man that knew your body and, although you had hoped for Jaehyun, Johnny seemed to fit the bill. 

Johnny barely gave you any chance to breathe the moment you walked into his room. He pushed you up against the corridor, even before the door was completely closed. His full lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Whereas Jaehyun was fervorous, Johnny took it slow. His lips moulded to yours entirely, allowing both you and himself to enjoy the initial kiss first before slipping his tongue in. His tongue swirled in your mouth, not in a fight for dominance but rather in a dance with yours. HIs kiss was soft and tender and almost romantic. You felt yourself melting into him.

Then, his big hands started wandering your body, caressing your every curve over your clothes.

“I want to show you what’s under this,” you breathed out against his lips. 

You didn’t know how or where you got your confidence from. Perhaps it was solely empowered by wearing such lingerie, perhaps some part of you really did enjoy parading in front of men, dying to be showered in compliments and praises. You were quick to slip off your unassuming clothes, as the both of you made your way onto the bed, and not even Johnny could hide his utter shock from seeing what was under your clothes.

“Wow,” he said, eyes fixed on your body as he ran his gaze up and down, “that’s definitely staying on. Damn, you look so beautiful.” It wasn’t an everyday occasion that someone dressed to impress a brothel worker.

Pink dusted your cheeks under his intense gaze. You could visibly see cracks forming in his chivalrous and gentleman facade as a more mischievous grin spread across his face. 

“On your back,” he said, “legs open.”

And you complied. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as he approached your body. His lips kissed yours, then trailed down to your jawline, then your neck to your torso before stopping just at the hem of your white panties. He adjusted himself to lay between your legs. Then, his fingers gently grazed your clothed core, the touch already enough to elicit a moan from you. 

“You’re already so wet, darling,” he murmured, pulling your panties to the side. His breath served as a cool respite against your warm core. 

His index finger gently traced against your wet folds, as he marvelled at the wetness that coated his finger, a thread of wetness spreading between his finger and where his finger was. 

“Please,” you urged him for more, your entire body aching just to be ravished. 

His index finger ran up to down along your slit, drawing the wetness upwards before lightly touching your swollen bud. Your moans encouraged him to put another finger on your clit, rubbing it in circular motions. It barely took him over a minute before he dipped both his slender fingers into you, stretching you out. His fingers were much longer than yours, hitting new spots that you’ve never felt. Lewd noises of his fingers pumping into your wet cunt filled the room. He replaced the attention on your clit with his tongue, twirling and sucking on the delicate bud of nerves. He didn’t try to rush things, instead relishing in how unravelled you became through half-lidded eyes. He watched with utmost attention how you’d buck your hips when his tongue hit a nice spot, how your fingers balled up the sheets with each methodical thrust of his fingers and how your voice got gradually louder. His other free hand managed to reach your breast, his fingers gently toying with your erect nipple through the thin lace fabric. The gentle tugs and rolling at your nipple set your body on fire as a new wave of sensitivity washed through you. 

Overwhelmed by the surge in pleasure, you could only retaliate in soft whimpers and pleas for more. Your heavenly moans spurred Johnny on; he wanted to watch you completely fall apart by his touches. It didn’t take him long before he slipped a third finger into you, this time drawing out a more primal mewl from you, an indication of your impending orgasm. With a curl of his fingers hitting your sweetest spot, you came undone. Your orgasm washed over you, resulting in your hips bucking and grinding themselves against Johnny’s face. Meanwhile, he was more focussed on lapping up the delicious gush of nectar from between your legs. 

“Now, for the other hole,” Johnny said with glee, prying himself from your body as he reached for the lube lined up with a silk eye mask by the bedside desk. 

Your eyes widened at that suggestion, and Johnny caught that. 

“First time?” 

You nodded. Fear crept into your mind at the prospect of a new experience, but it was quickly silenced by Johnny’s words.

“Don’t worry,” Johnny said, pouring an excessive amount of a clear and sweet-smelling liquid all over his fingers, “I’ll show you a good time.”

He winked as he tossed the bottle of lube back to the bedside table. You felt heat rising to your cheeks again. 

“Get on all fours for me, darling,” Johnny instructed. 

You obeyed, flipping yourself on to your elbows and knees before arching your back. He took his clean hand and caressed your bottom. Again, he adjusted your panties more, now revealing your butthole. 

“Now, just relax,” he said, his fingers spreading out the cool liquid all over your puckered hole. 

He pushed his thumb in and the foreign sensation had you gasping out loud. Now, it wasn’t painful. But it felt… different. A new feeling that you’ve never experienced. 

“Shh…” Johnny cooed, “relax.” 

You try your best to relax, and to welcome his thumb into you. 

“You’re doing so well now babygirl,” Johnny said pushing his thumb deeper in., “such a good girl, that’s it.”

And just hearing his sweet compliments made you want to follow through with this experience. The initial fear melted into eagerness and curiosity. You braced yourself for more impact. Johnny slowly started thrusting his thumb in and out and you tried to remain as relaxed as humanly possible. It took you a while but soon, you got used to the new sensation. Your squirms had begun slowly turning into soft moans. That gave Johnny the cue to push another lubed up finger in. This time, you took it in much better than the first time. The foreign sensation had begun melding with pleasure so form its own brand of delight. Still, despite your moans, Johnny didn’t try to rush things. But you weren’t willing to wait. By the time he managed to comfortably fit his third finger, you were moaning and pleading for his cock. A free hand of yours began playing with your nipple to supplement his delay. You couldn’t and didn’t want to wait anymore. 

“Please Johnny, I want your cock in me now.” 

Hearing those words were enough to get Johnny riled up. He was patient, but he wasn’t that patient. He was quick to undress, slip on a condom and retrieve the bottle of lube, pouring a copious amount all over his length. 

“Please,” you whined. You ached to be filled, you had waited over a week for this. 

He chuckled, “Alright princess. I ain’t going anywhere. But first… this.” 

He handed you a silk eye mask. 

“Put it on.” 

As if your desperation wasn’t already clear, you pulled the eye mask over your face obediently - willing to do anything that would get his dick in you. With your vision gone, it felt like you had to strain your other senses just to anticipate Johnny’s movements. Was he approaching you? Or was he teasingly watching you? You couldn’t tell. 

“No peeking.”

Just then, Johnny pulled you over the edge of the bed. He adjusted your limbs, so that your legs were tucked towards your chest, and, without a warning, lifted your body up by wrapping his arms around your body and through the underside of your thighs. His sudden action drew a yelp from you, but he was quick to whisper an apology in your ear. You’re unsure if it was the eye mask heightening your other senses but his baritone voice next to your ear sent shivers down your body. He’s careful as he slid his cock into your puckered hole, but it didn't stop the waves of almost-painlike pleasure as you stretched yourself to fit him. Moans had turned into semi-screams, still you enjoyed it. Tears were quick to prick your eyes but were immediately absorbed by the soft fabric. 

“You're doing so good, you’re taking me in so well,” Johnny continually repeated in your ear. Each word sent a small wave of pleasure right to your core. 

It took a moment for you to adjust to Johnny’s cock. His cock wasn’t as long as Jaehyun’s but his girth more than sufficiently made up for the difference. It was still quite a feat to take his entire cock in your ass, but with some time and with Johnny’s praises, you finally swallowed his whole length. 

“I’m gonna start, alright?” 

You nodded, already giddy in lust. Johnny’s thrusts started out slow; a combination of lifting you higher up in the air as well as rocking his hips into you. Again, he showed his patience gauging your response obsequiously. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” his whispers had turned into harsh groans, “You make me feel so fucking good.” 

You felt yourself melting into Johnny, the new experience completely overwhelmed you as each thrust pushed you closer and closer to the edge of something unfamiliar. Your stream of noises became increasingly strained. Pleasure overwhelmed your system so much so that you didn’t notice a new pair of hands holding your thighs. Not until you hear a delightfully familiar voice in your ear. 

“You’re such a greedy little cockslut.”

But there was barely any time to react, Jaehyun had pushed himself into your dripping wet and aching cunt. New tears sprung in your eyes at the impact. Your arms flew instinctively to the figure before you, balancing your body on the shoulders of Jaehyun. He leaned into your embrace, his head nestling in the crook of your neck as he teethed the skin below your ear. You’re almost completely certain that he’d leave bruised red and purple marks in his wake, but you didn’t have the energy to protest his doing. The combined sensation of being filled up both from the front and the back was enough to tip you over into another orgasm.  

“Wait-” Words could barely leave your lips before your body convulsed in lust-driven pleasure. Your nails dug into Jaehyun’s shoulders as your entire body quaked involuntarily. 

Johnny obliged in your protests, opting to sing praises by your right ear, “That’s right, cum for us baby. You’re doing so well princess.” 

In the other ear, Jaehyun berated you with jealous venom dripping from his words. “Did you cum from me just thrusting in? You’re such a whore. And now, I guess you like getting fucked in the ass by other guys, don’t you?” 

The mixed message from each side of your ears reignited the knot in your core. Johnny removed his length from your ass, carefully placing you back down on the bed, on your back, while Jaehyun took this transition time to ram himself into you, without much thought or concern for your recent orgasm. You enjoyed the way his cock buried so deeply within you, even more so when your walls were still clenching down tightly around Jaehyun. A new fear sprang as the orgasm ripped through your body. You weren’t used to this new side of yourself, one who took great gratification in being used and teased by the men of Hotel Paradise. Everything they did from the foreign to the familiar all felt so fucking good, you weren’t sure how much pleasure a human body could take before it broke completely. But you liked it. You were willing to test the limits.

“You liked that, didn't you? Getting fucked by two guys at once?” Jaehyun’s words made you flush with shame. “Maybe I should just call everyone in here.” 

“You’re too much, Jae,” you heard Johnny say, “she looked so pretty cumming on both our dicks. Wasn’t that why you wanted to join?” 

Jaehyun didn’t answer him. 

“Anyways,” Johnny said as he straddled your face, careful to not put his entire weight on you, “you have to agree that she looks so much better with two dicks in her, isn’t that right?” 

You felt Johnny’s cock slap against your cheek once, before a pressure against your lips. You could still smell the residual sweet smell coating his length as you took Johnny into your mouth. You struggled with it because the girth had almost completely dominated all the space in your mouth, with little to no space for airways. Oxygen quickly became a luxury as Johnny moved his hips. Your fingers dug into his thigh with one hand, hoping to adjust his cock in a manner where you could breathe. Instead, Johnny only shoved his length deeper down your throat, forcing drool and spit to gather and spill. An ache had already begun to form in your jaw, solely from accommodating Johnny.

 With both men thrusting into you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing in pure euphoria. There was no stopping either man, they both worked at their own pace. Jaehyun’s hips were animalistic and with vengeance, whilst Johnny’s cock slowly buried any moans into the back of your throat, opting to relish at the sight of your face stuffed with his dick. His thrusts, although not fast, were deep enough that its outline could be seen from your throat. Johnny’s free hands toyed with your nipples, which only brought you closer to another release. 

“She’s grinding her hips down like a greedy little slut,” you heard Jaehyun saying amidst pants and grunts, “I think she’s gonna cum soon.” Jaehyun flicked your swollen clit which caused you to flinch with a loud muffled moan. He laughed at your response. 

“D’you wanna cum?” Johnny asked, caressing one cheek with his hand. “Shall we cum together, darling?”

You nodded with enthusiasm. You couldn’t help it, every touch, sensation, painful or not, felt good to you. 

You hit your orgasm, first of the three. Whining and groaning and writhing in utter pleasure against the two men, but none of them stopped through your mind-numbing orgasm. Instead, Jaehyun thrusted deeper and harder into your spasming core, taking complete advantage of the tightness to chase his own orgasm. His orgasm came a few seconds after yours. Not much longer after that, Johnny’s breathing started to get increasingly shallower. With one last deep thrust, pinning your head into the bed, warmth slayed down your throat in intervals as Johnny rode out his orgasm in your throat. You choked on his cum, tightening around his cock in the process, which caused Johnny to bury his cock deeper into your throat. It wasn’t until Jaehyun pointed out that you needed to breathe that Johnny flopped off of you and onto the bed, beside you.

You thought it was finally over when Jaehyun slipped the eye mask off your face. The sudden brightness of the room blinded you for a moment and it took several blinks for your eyes to adjust. From white blinding vision to a soft glow, you finally laid eyes on the lovely face of Jaehyun. His eyes were dark, swirling with more than lust and it seemed he wasn’t done with you just yet. 

His fingers, soft but firm, directed your gaze to the full body mirror at a corner of the room, and you saw, for the first time, how the two men had completely messed you up. 

Dark blueish black streaks from your mascara ran down your face, drool had coated the entire sides of your lips and dripped all the way down your chin and your lipstick had shifted to a smear that the joker would be envious of. Worse of all, you saw in the mirror your desire to be completely subservient to the whims of the men in the room. 

“Look at how pretty my cumslut looks,” Jaehyun said, his smirk widening at the sight in the mirror. 

The difference between Jaehyun and Johnny became more obvious as Jaehyun yanked off your panties: where Johnny was romantic and enjoyed the art of dressing in lingerie, Jaehyun was more practical. He pushed you forward, so that your arse was up. There was no teasing, no need for pleading as Jaehyun buried himself deep within your cunt. You watched as desperation contorted your face. Jaehyun held your hips firm with one hand, and another squeezed the fullness of your butt, marvelling in your figure before thrusting into you at a brutal pace.

You locked eyes with him in the mirror, his eyes too fixated on the pornographic scene playing out. You found a new warmth swirling at the pits of your core, it was almost voyeuristic watching the mirror. You caught Johnny laying further back on the bed and although he didn’t attempt touching you, you see him stroking his cock at the sight before him. Your brain felt entirely too foggy and overrun by lewd desires that you weren’t even able to construct a coherent thought. Pure animalistic mewls and moans escaped your lips, the sight of you reduced to a puddle of mess served as aphrodisiac.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you entered the room, only that now your legs were trembling, numb and weak. You could barely feel your toes when another orgasm ripped through your system, this one serving as your limit. Your vision hazy and your mind swaying, you fell forward but Jaehyun held you firm. His orgasm, too, came an instant later. 

You collapsed on the bed, mind blank and completely drained of every ounce of energy, and shortly after drifted into a long slumber. 

The next time you opened your eyes, you had been tucked into the bed, your sullied lingerie swapped out for a comfy bathrobe and laying by your side was Jaehyun. 

“Morning love.” 

You smiled, basking in his attention. “Morning.”

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Will Halstead: Roommate Part 2  

This series is going to be really light and playful. 

Will looked at the boxes piled in the living room and was already regretting his decision to let you live with him and that was before you walked in holding a leash. A leash connected to a huge hairy white dog. “No,” You looked up at him with no shame, “Absolutely not.” 

“Will, you already agreed.” 

“Yeah, reluctantly and under distress.” You rolled your eyes at his melodramatic words. “And that was before I knew you had a small horse. Which you didn’t mention.” 

“Well, I thought if you knew, you would be...more hesitant to agree to me moving in.” 

“I would have told you no.”  

You shrugged smiling guiltily at him, “Yeah or that.” Will scrubbed his hands down his face shaking his head. “Oh, come on Halstead. It’s not like she will even be your responsibility. She is completely housetrained and doesn’t chew anything.” He eyed her wearily as she started sniffing his new tennis shoes. “You have to at least like dogs, you're not a monster.”  

Will had begrudgingly agreed to let you and your miniature horse stay. “But I’m not taking care of her. And she’s not allowed in my room or on the couch.” You had nodded, giving him your assurances. You were trying to be as agreeable as possible. You didn’t want to make waves. This was your only option for housing.  

It had to work. 

You didn’t like the thought of locking your dog up while you were out of the house. You knew she was a good girl. She wouldn’t chew or break anything. You couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t jump on the furniture so you were stuck. It made your stomach churn with guilt and forced you to move her water and food bowls into your room. 

You stuck to the new routine the next week, trying to make up for locking her up in your room with extra walks. If that meant dragging yourself out after dark. Things started to change gradually. You are so consumed with how busy you are that you barely notice it.  

First, it's little. Will letting her out of your room when you are gone- “I didn’t want to listen to her whine.” Will sneaked her scraps of food when he was cooking or he couldn’t finish. You had noticed white hair on the couch and started compulsively vacuuming in hopes that Will wouldn’t notice. Shooing her off whenever she jumped on. It was stressful and a pain in the ass but you managed. Will seemed to be over his irritation with his unwanted visitor. 

At least you had thought so. 

You were searching the apartment in a panic and looking for your precious ball of fur. You had been gone too long and had rushed home to take her on a potty break. You felt guilty about how busy you were. She had been lethargic and you usually found her asleep on your bed when you got home. Now she was gone. 

The front door opens and you swing around to see a fluff of white fur calmly entering, tongue hangout and to the side. An exhausted but happy dog. Will trailed behind her leash clipped to his waist. He was glistening in sweat from his run. “Hey, what are you doing?”  

You slump in relief feeling your exhaustion return tenfold. “I was looking for her!” He looks down at the dog for a moment and back at you. His expression is like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.  

“Oh, right-well we went for a jog.” 

“You went for a jog,” You echo blankly, “With my dog- that you hate...” It takes longer than it should for your sluggish brain to process the new information. “Wait- I knew it! You don’t hate her.” He scoffs undoing the leash from her harness. 

“I tolerate her.” He corrects flatly but the twitch at the corner of his lips betrays him. You smile even bigger catching him in his lie. 

“Aw, Will- you big softie. How long have you been taking her on runs?” The exhaustion would explain her lethargic-like symptoms. Then another thought occurred to you as you followed him into the kitchen. “You're the one who’s been letting her on the couch, aren’t you?” 

“A few weeks, and I don’t let her- she just does it.”  

“But you don’t make her get off.” You shake your head laughing, “And I have been cleaning that damn couch every day.” Will meets your gaze across the bar top. “Just admit you like her Will.” 

Will sighs heavily, “I don’t hate her.”        

[asnowfern]

Everything is fine when your hand is next to mine

A soft nessian drabble because that is all my completely exhausted being has the energy for.

WC: 743, Modern AU setting

The dread of realisation rose in Nesta with the increasing strength of the tidal waves. The ferry that transported them to the island was nothing more than a floating speck, helpless against the vast body of tumultuous water.

It was a short ride to the resort island that housed their team retreat: not even a mere hour.

While prone to often bouts of terrible nausea, Nesta’s seasickness had never devolved into the realms of vomiting. So she never found a need to medicate herself, choosing instead to rely on time trusted practice of a light meal and comfortable clothes that gave her chest and abdomen ample breathing room.

Though she had still hoped when she spotted the charcoal threat of cumulonimbus clouds in the faraway distance that it would wait the hour, not striking down its wrath until they had safely docked at shore. But alas, it was not to be - the waves grew just a little taller with each push and pull, the speed at which the ferry climbed and fell with the waves a jumbled inconsistent mess.

Nesta’s stomach lurched at the next descent and she squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth pursed into the slightest of an oval, pushing out a slow steady stream of air. Her meditative habits kicked in on instinct.

I am the rock against which-

Oh, for goodness sake. She couldn’t even complete the sentence without her abdomen clenching at the mere thought.

“Hey, Nes,” the voice dripping in pure swagger greeted as the cheap leather seat grumbled at the sudden weight.

Her brows knitted on its accord, annoyed. Nesta kept her eyes closed in pure refusal to acknowledge the business development executive. Maybe if she stayed quiet long enough, he would go away.

He didn’t.

He said nothing for a while, letting the little squeaks of leather alert her of his continued presence.

“Nes?”

“Now’s not the time, Cassian.” She sighed wearily, her jaw clenched as her belly threatened to push acidic bile up her throat. She took a shallow breath in and released a long shuddering exhale, forcing it under her control.

One, two, in.

One, two, out.

“You ok?”

One, two, in.

“I’m fine.”

One, two, out.

One, two, in.

“You don’t look fine.”

Silver blue eyes flew open as she whirled on him, snapping with the exhale, “Would you just leave me alone?”

It was uncalled for. It was rude but Nesta refused to backpedal even as something within her chastised her for chewing him off for no good reason. She ignored the voice and levelled a withering gaze at slightly widen hazel eyes, pretending not to notice the flash of hurt in them.

He slipped away when the moment broke, brushing her off with a wry smile that masked any other emotions, “I’ll be back later.”

And Nesta was alone again.

She fished her phone out of her bag to take note of the time - another thirty minutes to go, and sighed.

Leaning back into the seats, her knuckles turned white as her fingers gripped onto its handles. She forced it loose in hopes of loosening her tightening stomach. Her eyes stuttered shut and resumed her control of gated entry of air into her lungs.

Warm rough fingertips gently enveloped the back of her palms, rousing her from the fitful sleep she hadn’t realised she had fallen into. Dazed eyes drifted to the paper cup he extended to her, nothing but soft understanding on that ruggedly handsome face. Nesta accepted it wordlessly with a slight downward jerk of her chin, surprised at the heat from its papered surface. It was beyond her how he managed to find any hot drinks on this small transport ferry.

Cassian smiled and settled back into the seat next to her. Nesta lifted the edge of the cup to her lips, cautiously sipping its hot content. Immediately, a warmth spread in her chest and stomach. The gentle bitterness of the oolong tea soothed the churning.

Shifting her grip of the drinking receptacle to one hand, she slipped slender fingers over broad ones and soft palm over the back of the much larger hand.

“Thank you.”

His hand moved under hers, flipping so that their hands are clasped together. With the smallest of a smile gracing her lips, her shoulders relaxed into the seat and she let the comforting heat of his palm and the soothing presence to tie her through for the rest of the ride.

[youss-97]

Shattered Promises

You and Jungkook had always been the perfect match, or at least that’s what everyone said. Friends, family, even strangers who saw you together commented on how lucky you were to have found each other. And you believed it too. From the moment you met, there had been a spark, something undeniable that made you think, This is it. This is the person I want to spend my life with.

The two of you had been through so much together. Late-night talks that lasted until the early morning, spontaneous road trips, quiet nights spent in each other’s arms—every moment felt like a piece of a beautiful mosaic that you were carefully crafting together. Jungkook was your everything, and you were his. Or so you thought.

It started with small things, things you dismissed at first. Jungkook had always been busy with his career, but lately, it felt like he was drifting further and further away. There were more missed dates, more last-minute cancellations. He was always tired, always distracted. But whenever you asked him about it, he reassured you with that same soft smile, the one that had always melted your heart.

“I’m just a bit stressed with work,” he would say, pulling you close and kissing your forehead. “But don’t worry, we’re fine. I love you.”

And you believed him. Of course, you did. Why wouldn’t you? Jungkook had never given you a reason to doubt him before.

But then came the late nights. The texts that went unanswered, the calls that went straight to voicemail. You tried to be understanding. You knew how demanding his job was, how much pressure he was under. You told yourself it was just a rough patch, something every couple goes through. But deep down, a nagging feeling started to grow, a cold, creeping doubt that you tried desperately to ignore.

It all came crashing down one night when you decided to surprise him at the studio. It was something you used to do often—bring him dinner, sit with him while he worked, just enjoying each other’s company in the quiet moments between takes. But it had been a while since you’d done that, and you missed him. You missed the way things used to be.

When you arrived, the building was mostly empty, the hallways silent except for the faint sound of music coming from the studio. You smiled to yourself, thinking how happy he’d be to see you, to take a break and eat the dinner you’d carefully prepared.

But as you approached the door to the studio, you heard something that made your heart stop. Laughter. A woman’s laughter, soft and intimate, followed by Jungkook’s voice, low and familiar, but in a way that made your stomach churn with unease.

You paused, your hand hovering over the door handle, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. You told yourself you were being paranoid, that there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. But that doubt, that awful, gnawing doubt, wouldn’t go away.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. The sight that greeted you shattered your world.

Jungkook was there, sitting on the couch, his arm wrapped around someone else. A woman you recognized, someone he had mentioned in passing as a colleague, nothing more. But the way they were looking at each other, the way his fingers were gently brushing her hair away from her face, told you everything you needed to know.

Your heart felt like it had been ripped from your chest, the pain so intense you could hardly breathe. “Jungkook?” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling with disbelief.

He looked up, his eyes widening in shock and guilt. The woman beside him quickly pulled away, her expression shifting to one of discomfort and embarrassment. But you barely noticed her. Your focus was entirely on Jungkook, on the way he suddenly seemed so small, so uncertain, as if he didn’t know what to say, how to explain what you were seeing.

“I can explain,” he started, his voice faltering as he stood up, taking a step toward you. “It’s not what it looks like.”

But you could see the truth in his eyes, the guilt and shame that told you everything you needed to know. He didn’t have to say it. The betrayal was there, plain as day, and it broke you in a way you never thought possible.

“Why?” was all you could manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you do this?”

Jungkook’s face crumpled, and he reached out to you, but you stepped back, your mind spinning with a mixture of anger, hurt, and disbelief. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said, his voice desperate. “It just… it just happened. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” you repeated, the word tasting bitter in your mouth. “You’re sorry? After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve built together, this is how it ends? With an apology?”

He had no words, nothing that could take away the pain he had caused. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls too tight, too suffocating. You turned and walked out, ignoring his calls for you to stop, to let him explain.

But what was there to explain? The trust, the love, everything you thought you had—it was all shattered, lying in pieces at your feet. And as you walked away from the studio, from him, you knew there was no going back. The person you loved had betrayed you in the worst possible way, and no apology could ever mend the cracks that had formed in your heart.

As you stepped out into the night, the cold air hitting your face, you realized that the person you had trusted the most was the one who had hurt you the deepest. And that was a wound that would take a long time to heal—if it ever did.

You walked away from the studio, your mind a storm of emotions—anger, sadness, confusion. The city lights blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept moving forward, desperate to put as much distance between you and Jungkook as possible. Each step felt heavier than the last, like you were sinking into the ground with the weight of your heartbreak.

Jungkook had always been your safe place, the one person who made you feel like everything would be okay no matter what life threw at you. But now, that safety net was gone, ripped away by the very person you had trusted the most. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. How could he do this? How could he throw away everything you had for… what? A fleeting moment of weakness?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you ignored it, knowing it was likely him trying to reach you. You couldn’t talk to him right now, couldn’t even think about facing him. All you could do was keep walking, hoping the motion would somehow help you make sense of the chaos in your head.

You ended up at a small park, one you and Jungkook had visited countless times before. The memories of those times felt like salt in an open wound now, but you found yourself drawn to it anyway. You sank onto a bench, the cold metal seeping through your coat, and finally let the tears fall.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, letting the tears flow until your eyes burned and your chest ached from the force of your sobs. Eventually, the tears slowed, leaving you feeling hollow and exhausted. But the pain was still there, a dull, constant ache in your chest that wouldn’t go away.

The thoughts kept circling in your mind—how you had trusted him, how you had believed in him, how you had given him your whole heart. You had been so sure of him, so convinced that what you had was unbreakable. But here you were, shattered and alone, while the man you loved was likely still trying to figure out what to say to you, how to fix something that couldn’t be fixed.

As the night wore on, you realized you couldn’t stay in the park forever. You had to face reality, even if it felt like the hardest thing you’d ever done. You took a deep breath, pulling out your phone. Several missed calls from Jungkook, as expected, and a few texts that you couldn’t bring yourself to read just yet. But there was also a missed call from a friend, one who had always been there for you, no matter what.

Without thinking too much about it, you called them back, and the moment they answered, the sound of their voice broke the dam inside you again. You didn’t even have to explain—just hearing the concern in their voice, the way they immediately offered to come to you, made you feel a little less alone.

You waited on the bench until they arrived, the cold air biting into your skin, but you barely felt it. When they pulled up, you got into the car without a word, and they drove you back to your place, the silence between you heavy but comforting in its own way.

Back at your apartment, your friend didn’t push you to talk, didn’t ask for details. They just sat with you, offering quiet support as you finally let out everything you had been holding in. The anger, the betrayal, the confusion—it all poured out in a torrent of words, each one cutting you open a little more, but somehow also making it easier to breathe.

“I just don’t understand how he could do this,” you said finally, your voice raw from crying. “How could he just throw it all away like that?”

Your friend sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I don’t know,” they admitted. “Sometimes people make mistakes, big ones, and they hurt the people they care about. It doesn’t make it right, and it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. But you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

You nodded, leaning into them, feeling a small measure of comfort in their presence. You still felt like you were drowning in the aftermath of what had happened, but at least you weren’t completely alone.

The days that followed were some of the hardest you’d ever experienced. Jungkook kept trying to reach out, sending more texts, leaving voicemails that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. Each one felt like a reminder of the wound that had been torn open, a wound that was still too fresh, too raw to even think about healing.

You stayed with your friend for a while, needing the distance from everything that reminded you of him. They were patient, giving you space when you needed it and listening when you wanted to talk. Slowly, you started to piece yourself back together, though the hurt never really went away.

It was a week before you finally agreed to see Jungkook again. He had asked to talk, to explain, and though part of you wanted to refuse, another part of you knew you needed closure, even if it wouldn’t bring the relief you were hoping for.

The meeting was awkward, tense, filled with long silences as he struggled to find the right words. He looked worn out, his eyes shadowed with guilt and regret, but that didn’t soften the anger you still felt, the betrayal that lingered just beneath the surface.

“I messed up,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “I know that. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am.”

You nodded, but you didn’t trust yourself to speak, not yet.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I was stupid, and I let things get out of hand. I let my guard down when I shouldn’t have. I know that doesn’t make it better, but I need you to know that it was a mistake, the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his eyes, the regret that seemed to weigh on him like a physical burden. But even so, the damage was done. The trust that had once been the foundation of your relationship was gone, shattered into pieces that you weren’t sure could ever be put back together.

“I believe that you’re sorry,” you said finally, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “But I don’t know if that’s enough. You broke something, Jungkook. You broke us.”

He winced at your words, his head hanging low as he nodded. “I know. And I hate myself for it. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t.”

Silence settled between you again, heavy and suffocating. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many questions you wanted to ask, but none of them seemed to matter anymore. What mattered was that the person you had once trusted with your whole heart had betrayed that trust, and there was no easy way to come back from that.

“I need time,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Time to figure out where to go from here. I don’t know if I can forgive you, Jungkook. I don’t know if I want to.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored your own. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, waiting, if you ever want to talk.”

With that, you stood up, feeling the weight of your decision settle over you. It wasn’t the closure you had hoped for, but it was something. It was a step forward, even if the path ahead was uncertain.

As you walked away, you felt a strange sense of relief, mingled with the ache that still throbbed in your chest. The road to healing would be long, and you didn’t know if you and Jungkook would ever find your way back to each other. But for now, you were choosing yourself, choosing to put your heart first.

And maybe, someday, that would be enough.

[writing-ca-ira]

HASARDER — PART 1

YJ/Teen Titans Dick Grayson x Reader

Prologue << MASTERLIST >> Part 2

Dick Grayson is no stranger to death, but that doesn’t make it any harder to deal with. As it turns out, however, the grieving process for you would prove to take an interesting twist when Tim calls him with some shocking news.

The reader is gender neutral.

Contains: civilian reader, mentions of death (your death), mentions of a dead body (your dead body), spoilers: you’re actually alive… kinda, I’m probably forgetting something.

“Does the hurt ever go away?”

“I wish I could say yes… but it will get better over time. For you. That, I can promise.”

Dick felt his grip on the picture frame get weaker and weaker. Had he not snapped out of his thoughts a moment sooner, it would’ve slipped out of his hands and clattered on the floor, shattering the glass in the process. The mere thought of that happening caused his stomach to churn, guilt eating away at his heart despite managing to avoid that outcome. To ensure the safety of the picture frame (well, more importantly, the photo within it), he gingerly placed it back in its rightful place on top of his nightstand, right next to his old digital alarm clock and bedside lamp.

You keep thinking..."If only I'd done something differently,” Bruce’s voice echoed in his head. “If only I could've...warned them." But there isn't anything you could've done. There isn't anything either of us could've done.

That conversation happened years ago; over a decade by now. Back when Dick was still processing the death of his parents, and when Bruce was there to help him through it. Despite the consolation those words provided in the moment, he never expected them to carry such weight throughout his life.

There isn’t anything you could’ve done.

His eyes drifted back to the picture frame. The photo within it was taken 4 years ago, during his sophomore year of high school at Gotham High. He still remembers the crisp autumn air against his skin, the red and orange leaves scattered on the ground, and the chocolate flavored milkshake he was halfway through. There was a giant smile on his face, his blue eyes sparkling with such joy and vibrancy.

It’s because you were right next to him.

The photo caught you mid-laugh, your eyes crinkling with happiness. You had haphazardly thrown up a peace sign with one hand while holding your own drink in the other. Though you were too busy laughing to notice, Dick had snaked his arm behind your head to give you bunny ears, which caused you to playfully throw leaves at him when you found out afterwards.

Thinking about that day still causes a fond smile to tug at his lips. Wally had to bail on their plans that day due to a date he forgot about with Artemis, so Dick found himself in the Cave to hand out with you instead. That’s how you two ended up walking around Happy Harbor — your idea, if he recalls correctly — exploring random shops and goofing around outside.

Had that really been 4 years ago?

Whatever warmness that flooded his chest while reminiscing on the past was immediately extinguished by the coldness of reality. It’s been 2 years without you now. The anniversary of your death was a week and a half ago, which was when he found himself so filled with grief that he could barely even get out of bed. It took all of the senior members of the team to rouse him out of his depressive episode; much like the year before.

You were gone. He still wasn’t used to saying that. Even with the time that’s passed since you died, he can feel his heart drop whenever he thinks about it, as though he’s learning about your death for the first time. The tears still wouldn’t stop, and neither would the nights filled with feverish dreams of your face.

If only I could’ve done something differently.

Of course, Bruce was right all those years ago; there wasn’t anything he could’ve done. Much like with his parents, Jason, and now the recently deceased Tula (all whom he still has nightmares of to this day), there was logically nothing he could’ve done to save you. He was all the way in Santa Prisca leading a covert mission when he received a distress call from your phone in Happy Harbor. All he could do was make sure someone was en route to your coordinates — which led to the Happy Harbor boardwalk — and pray you were safe.

But by the time Aquagirl and Tempest got there, it was too late.

Learning about what happened to you was hard for Dick. The ringing in his ears blocked out every sound except for his own shaky breaths, and he could barely even stand without feeling dizzy. But he managed to fight through his state of shock and despair to listen to the report. You were caught in a domestic dispute gone deadly at the Happy Harbor health clinic. A man stormed into the clinic to take back his kid from his ex-wife, who was there for a check-up. Things escalated, and the man shot and killed his wife, threatening the doctor in the room if she didn’t let his son go with him.

You happened to be in the next room over. Hearing the gunshot must’ve made you spring into action, making a 911 call along with the distress call to the team. The doctor that was with the son said that you snuck up behind the man and lunged at him, yelling at her and the kid to run. There was signs of a struggle in the room, but you unfortunately weren’t the one to walk out of there alive.

The man was neutralized by police around 3 to 4 minutes after your estimated time of death. If you hadn’t had your scuffle with him, it’s possible that he could’ve grabbed his son and escaped before the cops arrived. Your face was on the news after that, journalists proclaiming you to be a hero that sacrificed their life.

Except you should’ve never had to in the first place.

It’s not fair, Dick decided. Why did you, the one who wasn’t supposed to be risking their life, have to die because of some other people’s marital problems?! You weren’t even a hero; you were just a normal civilian going about your daily life. So why did you have to die like this?!

Even thinking about it caused his eyes to sting from frustrated tears, his jaw tightening as his fists clenched at his sides. If that guy wasn’t shot down by the cops, lord only knows what Dick would’ve done to him. The fact that he couldn’t even see justice for your death — your murder — get delivered also feeds into his anger. God, why couldn’t he just be there to at least get justice for you himself?!

Justice and revenge aren’t the same thing.

God, he hated it when Bruce was right.

There was nothing he could’ve done. There was nothing anyone could’ve done. Everything happened to fast; from the man barging into the clinic, to the shouting between him and his ex-wife, to the gunshot, to you calling 911 and sneaking up on the man, to the struggle that happened for a solid minute or so, to the gunshot that ultimately ended your life. All of that happened in under 10 minutes, according to the timeline, and that just wasn’t enough time for someone to come help you.

“There isn’t anything you could’ve done,” he had to solemnly tell Tula and Garth, who were both blaming themselves for not being there. Tula Zeta’d in from Atlantis, while Garth had to go on foot from Mount Justice. They were the only ones who weren’t on a mission at the time; the only ones who could respond to your distress call. But no matter how fast they moved, they just couldn’t be there in time.

A buzzing noise snapped him out of his thoughts. It caused enough surprise to him that his shoulders jolted upwards, his heart completely skipping a beat. He soon realized that it was his phone buzzing. Someone was calling him.

Shakily reaching for his phone (which was unceremoniously tossed onto his bed), he held it closer to his face to read the caller ID. Ah, Tim. It was a bit unusual for his successor to give him a call (he was a bit too socially awkward for that), but anytime he did, it would make Dick feel special. In fact, maybe a conversation with Tim would help clear his head a bit.

He cleared his throat as a small test for his voice, then hit accept and held the phone up to his ear. “Hey, Tim. What’s up?”

“Dick—! I… it’s—” Panic was evident in Tim’s voice. Hearing his shaky words on the other end caused Dick’s brows to furrow. At first, he thought that there was something going on with Batman and Robin, but he remembered that it was Tim who called Dick, and not Robin who called Nightwing. So, did that mean something happened at the Manor?

“Tim,” Dick softly began, though with slight urgency in his tone, “is everything okay?”

“They’re… I’m— I don’t…” an uneven puff of air could be heard before the teen tried again. “I’m really sorry, Dick, I didn’t mean to poke around!! It’s just that Ba— Br— B had been spending so much time away from the Manor and the Cave, and I wanted to know what he was doing, a-and I used the Bat Computer and found the file about everything, and— a-and…!!”

Dick had to raise his voice a bit to interject. “Tim!! Tim, calm down… what are you talking about? What’s wrong?”

For a moment, all Dick got was a shuddery breath as a reply. Before he could repeat his question, however, Tim finally responded. “Don’t… don’t get your hopes up, alright? Promise me you won’t get your hopes up.”

“… Okay,” Dick decided after a moment of hesitation. “I won’t.”

There was a long pause. Anticipation and apprehension was building up in Dick’s chest, his heart thumping against his rib cage. It seemed as though Tim was trying to carefully choose his words; trying to find the best way possible to break whatever news he had.

But nothing in the world could prepare Dick for the next few words that came out of Tim’s mouth. “There’s another (Y/N).”

Everything in Dick’s body stopped working.

From his heart to his mind, his hearing to his vision, Dick felt as though he was shutting down. He almost let the phone slip out of his hands entirely, the blood in his veins feeling cold as ice and causing his limbs to tremble. Even trying to get air in his lungs was a tough task, despite his mouth hanging open. The room was spinning for him, and the ringing in his ears almost blocked out Tim’s panicked ramblings entirely.

There’s another (Y/N).

What…

What did he mean by that?

“I-I know how close they are to you, Dick,” Tim practically wailed. “I know how close they are to the team… I didn’t know that Bruce was hiding this from you— I-I-I don’t even know if I should’ve told you… oh, god, Dick… is Bruce going to fire me—?”

Dick swallowed thickly, hoping to get rid of the lump in his throat. Despite his tongue feeling like sand, he spoke up anyway. “What do you mean by another (Y/N)?”

Tim sputtered out something completely incomprehensible to Dick. It was hard to tell if the poor kid was scared of what he knows, scared of Bruce finding out, or scared of both. Either way, Dick knew that he wasn’t going to learn anything from Tim in this state. He bit the inside of his cheek before dawning the most imperative voice he can muster in the moment.

“Tim,” he lowly chided. “Give me a report.”

That got Tim to his frantic rambling of nonsense. Getting him to think of this like a mission debriefing would calm him down, Dick figured. And, from the deep breaths the former Robin could hear on the other end, he knew he was right.

“Someone was taken in by the police a week ago,” Tim started, his cracking voice taking a factual tone. “Said their name was (Y/N) (L/N). Cops ran that name through their database and found (Y/N)’s death certificate. This (Y/N) was confused, ‘n started saying weird stuff about… something called the Titans.”

“Titans,” Dick echoed. It was meant to be a question, but came out more as a statement.

Tim hummed. “Titans. A… supposed team of young superheroes, o-or something. I don’t know, the report didn’t really…” he trailed off, possibly realizing he was rambling again. “Tests were ran. Their DNA is an exact match to the real (Y/N)— but when they… they checked (Y/N)’s grave a-a couple of days ago…”

The thought of someone digging up your grave made him clench his teeth together. They went through with something like that and he didn’t even know? Who gave them permission?!

Probably Batman, he bitterly thought.

“They’re still there, Dick,” said Tim. “(Y/N)’s body is still there. But this other (Y/N) is an exact copy..!!”

Dick’s freehand was digging into the flesh of his other arm. “Cadmus?”

“Isn’t involved.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“No biological trace of Cadmus’ synthetic enhancements in this (Y/N)’s bloodstream. No psychic trace of Genomorphs in their mind, either. This (Y/N)…” Tim struggled with his words for a moment, “is natural. Genuine.”

Genuine. Dick couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was another version of you walking this earth, supposedly confused about your own death, and Batman was planning to hide this from him? No, even worse, Bruce was planning to his this from him?!

No biological trace… no psychic trace…

All of these people to run tests, and yet he still didn’t know?

“Send me the file,” he monotonously demanded.

There was a small pause on the other end before Tim’s fragile voice spoke up. “What… are you going to do?”

“… I don’t know,” Dick answered, a tired sigh escaping his lips. It was an honest answer; what was he supposed to do after learning this? There was a (Y/N) alive out there, but not his (Y/N)…

“Are…” Tim trailed off, then tried again, “are you mad at me?”

“No—!!” Dick’s answer was quick. When he heard the sharp intake of breath on the other line, he realized that he might’ve spooked the poor boy, so he took on a softer tone. “No, Tim. It was good that you… brought this to my attention. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Bruce is going to be mad,” Tim practically whispered. “I shouldn’t of gone through his stuff… and… he would’ve wanted me to keep this all from you…”

Dick took a few moments to think of his response. “Well, you made the right choice telling me. He shouldn’t be keeping secrets like this in the first place.” Definitely not secrets that revolve around you…

“… ‘M sending the file now.” Distant clicking noises could be heard through the call, and then Tim followed up with, “I’m… sorry that Bruce didn’t let you know.”

“It’s not your fault, Tim,” was Dick’s soft reply. “He’s always been like that. Thinking it would protect us, or something.”

Protect us. The words were like acid on Dick’s tongue. Using secrets as protection always made Dick feel sick to his stomach. Looking at the past couple of years, Bruce’s secrets have done anything but protect others. They drove Dick away from him, they put Jason six feet under, and now…

God, why wasn’t Dick the first person to know about this other (Y/N)?

Maybe it was selfish of him to think that. He wasn’t your only friend, so the rest of the Team had just as much as a right to know as he did. But he still should’ve known. He should’ve been involved with the investigation; he knows you better than anyone. And Bruce knows this.

“You… gonna be okay?”

Tim’s voice pulled him back to reality. With a weak cough, Dick wet his lips and said, “yeah. I’ll be alright. Just gonna read over the file for myself and… figure out what to do from there.” An awkward pause, then he continued. “Thank you for this, Tim. Call me if anything else comes up.”

“Yeah… yeah, of course. I-I will.”

And, with that, the call ended.

His hand dropped to his side, the phone in his hand almost slipping from his grip. This couldn’t be real. None of this could be real. You were dead, yet… you were back. Someone with your face was out there talking about some other team… the Titans, and he was just now finding out about this.

After a week, he bitterly recalled.

Taking a final glance at the picture frame, his eyes scanned over your face. This new supposed (Y/N) wasn’t you. It couldn’t be you. The memory of your dull, lifeless face at the morgue still haunts him to this day, causing a chill to run up his spine and his hair to stand on end. Dick knows what death looks like, and you were, without a doubt, dead.

So, who was masquerading as his dead friend?

The answer seemed to be simple; you were masquerading as his dead friend. But… not you. Even if your DNA was an exact match, and Cadmus didn’t have any involvement, whoever you were, you weren’t his (Y/N). He’d like to believe that his (Y/N) would demand to see him, to assure him that you were still alive. You wouldn’t have let him go an entire week without knowing, leaving him to mourn someone that was still alive. As far as he concerned, this new (Y/N) was a stranger.

But, that just led him back to square one; who was this stranger?

Guess I’m about to find out.