#look at this guy. clearly he could never do anything wrong

[anon-188]

pairing: AJ x f!reader | genre: fluff 🤍 | wc: 1.5k

summary: you were determined to make an old fashioned, you really were. but eagerness doesn’t always translate into success. good thing AJ knows how to step in—hands first, mouth second.

warnings: domestic tension, soft teasing, suggestive language, low heat, playful!AJ, neck kisses, fluff, established relationship, light spice undertone, mild explicit language, alcohol use.

a/n: here's some fluff—well, my version of it anyway. needed something soft to balance out the absolute filth of my last post. don't worry though, there's a good chance an alternative version of this one is already in the works ;) enjoyyy ♡

It was late—the kind of late that blurred time, where the world outside the bar felt nonexistent. Jake had closed up hours ago, but that never meant leaving. Not for this crew. Upstairs, the guys were still going strong, voices carrying through the bar in bursts of laughter and too-loud arguments over shit no one would remember tomorrow. Cigars were being passed, half-finished bottles lined the table, and no one was keeping track of anything—least of all how far past their limit they were.

But AJ? AJ always knew when to disappear.

He’d wait for the noise to settle, just enough, then slip away. The others wouldn’t notice—wouldn’t care. Because they already knew where he was going. Where he always went once the chaos quieted down. You.

Sometimes it was just behind a corner, where he’d press you against the wall, mouth brushing your ear just to tell you how good you looked. Other times, it was up on the rooftop, where the air was cooler, quieter—and his hands didn’t even try to behave.

And while you loved those moments—his hunger, the way he touched you like he couldn’t help it—you also loved his sweet side. Like tonight.

You were standing behind the bar with AJ, trying (and very clearly failing) to make an Old Fashioned on your own.

“Wait. What?” you asked, brows pinched as you held a glass already half full of ice.

“Baby, no,” AJ said, chuckling low as he reached over and gently took the glass from you.

He tossed the ice into the sink and set the empty glass off to the side. “Ice comes later, and this is the wrong glass for it anyway,” he added with a smile like he wasn’t completely calling you out.

You didn’t respond, not immediately. But he caught the way your tongue pushed against the inside of your cheek—your tell. That small, silent signal you always gave when you were trying really hard not to get annoyed. You’d told him you wanted to do it yourself, that it couldn’t be that hard. 

And you meant it. He knew that. You were eager, always willing to learn—and he loved that about you. But he also knew it made you stubborn as hell.

Still, his smile stayed on his face, completely unbothered—even when you sighed and crossed your arms, eyes narrowing at the now empty glass. 

"Come here," he said, nodding as his gaze finally caught yours again. "I'll show you."

He reached for you, gentle but firm, and you resisted—just enough to make a point. But it didn’t last. It never did. You gave in, a smile tugging at your lips before you could stop it.

AJ pulled you closer until your back was pressed to his chest, his arm wrapped loose around your waist. You felt him lean forward, reaching past you with that effortless confidence to grab the right glass—a lowball.

You hummed under your breath, and he laughed softly behind you as he set it down in front of you. He moved again, his arm grazing yours as he reached for the bottle of simple syrup.

“Start with this,” he murmured against your ear as he handed it to you. “Just a little.”

You tilted it carefully, pouring slow, while he watched over your shoulder—his voice low and close. “That’s good.”

Setting the bottle down, you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but he was already reaching past you again. “Now,” he said, grabbing the small bottle of bitters, “a few dashes of this. Over the sugar.”

You followed his instructions, wrist flicking carefully as the bitters splashed into the glass, blooming dark against the syrup. AJ didn’t say anything—just chuckled softly as you carefully tapped it once, twice, three times before you set the bottle aside.

Then came the muddler. He set it gently in your hand. “Mix it—just enough to dissolve the sugar.”

Your brows furrowed with focus as you got to work, only for both of his hands to find your hips, fingers settling into his favorite spot.

“Easy, baby,” he said, voice warm and teasing. “It’s not going anywhere.”

A soft laugh slipped from you, and your movements relaxed. The mix started to come together, sweet and spiced, and when you were done, you set the muddler aside with a small clink.

“Now you can put in the ice,” he said, lips brushing your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, half-smiling, and dropped the ice in piece by piece.

Next came the bourbon. He unscrewed the top, handing you the bottle.

“Slow. I’ll tell you when.”

The amber liquid slid smoothly over the ice, your pour slow, just like he said. His hand came around, tapping your wrist.

“Right there.”

He set the bottle aside for you, his touch wandering lower—slow and unhurried—as he leaned in again, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, then one higher, near your neck.

“Now stir,” he said. “Gently.”

Careful and smooth, you stirred the drink as AJ’s fingers traced lazy shapes against your waist the entire time.

Finally, he handed you the orange peel. “Last step—twist it over the glass. Then drop it in.”

You did as he said, the scent of citrus rising faintly in front of you. Then, you dropped it into the glass.

As you studied your handiwork, you huffed out a laugh—proud of the cocktail. You grabbed the glass and turned to face him fully, holding it out. He took it, fingers brushing yours—drawn out on purpose.

Your hands dropped to your hips as you watched him take a sip, eyes scanning his face for a reaction—though with AJ, that was nearly always a lost cause.

“Thoughts?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, teasing.

He lowered the glass slowly, already smirking. “Delicious.”

You arched a brow. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” he replied, smirk deepening, eyes full with mischief. “This is the best Old Fashioned I’ve ever had. Swear.”

His grin widened as your eyes narrowed, suspicious but amused. Still, you rolled them anyway, shaking your head.

“What?” he said, voice lazy and teasing. “You don’t believe me?”

You held your ground, giving him that look—the “serious” one that made him laugh more often than not. 

“You want to taste it?” he added, that playful look never leaving him.

“Yeah, I do,” you said quickly—ready to call him on his bullshit.

He nodded once, lifted the glass, and took another slow sip—eyes still locked on you like he was savoring the drink and the moment in equal measure. Then, without missing a beat, he lowered the glass and kissed you—his lips cool and sweet with the remnants of bourbon and bitters. You kissed him back for half a second before breaking into a laugh against his mouth.

He pulled back, his smile spreading wide across his lips. “Is that not what you meant?” he asked, entirely too pleased with himself.

You flashed him another look—part amused, part unimpressed—but your lips were already twitching as you grabbed the drink from his hand and took a small sip.

Your eyebrows raised slightly. To your surprise—it was actually good.

“See?” he said, already smug. “Better hope Jake doesn’t catch you pouring like that—he’ll have to fire Lili on the spot.” 

“Shut up,” you said under your breath as you gave his shoulder a half-hearted shove.

He laughed, catching your hand in his—then gently guided it up and around his neck as he slid the glass from your grip, setting it on the bar behind you. 

His mouth found yours again—softer this time, but like he meant it. Because he did. He always did. Your other arm came up slowly, looping around his neck as well, pulling him closer until there wasn’t much space left between you at all.

After a moment you pulled back slightly, lips still hovering close to his. “Thank you for teaching me,” you murmured, softly.

AJ’s eyes dropped to your mouth, then back up. “Anytime,” he said, voice low and full of suggestion. “But if that’s your way of asking for another lesson…”—his hands slid down to your hips, then roamed slowly over your body, fingers bold—“I’ve got a few things I could show you.”

Before you could answer, he kissed you—quick, then slower. His mouth lingering just long enough to make your breath catch before he dipped lower, brushing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. One after another, light, fast, and teasing.

By the third kiss, you were already laughing—shoulders jerking as you tried to wiggle away. Your elbow bumped the glass behind you, nearly knocking it over.

“AJ!” you yelped, breathless, half-scolding as your elbow moved dangerously close to the glass again. “We’re gonna knock it over.”

“Good,” he murmured against your neck—lips brushing your skin as he grinned. “Gives me a reason to stay down here a little longer.” Then he kissed you again—slow and warm, like the rest of the world could wait, like being here with you was the only thing that mattered. 

Because in his mind? It was. 

please do not repost, copy, or claim my work as your own.

tag list: @alealuvshayden @haydenchristensenisbae @sythethecarrot

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if you want to be tagged in my future posts, just let me know (comment or message me). i’m happy to do it! :)

links: materlist

[sunandflame]

Analysis: Paulie as a Lover

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1021

Pairing: Paulie x GN!Reader

crossposted on AO3

1. Loyal to a Fault

Paulie is fiercely loyal—to Iceburg, to the Galley-La Company, and to the people he respects. That loyalty would extend just as fiercely to a romantic partner. He’s the kind of man who, once committed, would be all in. He wouldn’t be half-hearted or flaky; if he’s yours, he’s yours through thick and thin. You wouldn’t have to question his feelings—he’d prove them in both grand gestures and subtle consistency.

2. Old-Fashioned but Respectful

Paulie’s modesty and his disdain for “immodest” clothing reflect a traditional mindset. But it’s not controlling—it’s more that he gets flustered or protective. As a lover, he might struggle initially with affection that’s too forward or revealing, but he wouldn’t shame his partner. He’s the type to avert his eyes and stammer “You shouldn’t dress like that—it’s too… distracting,” while clearly dying inside from how gorgeous you look.

He'd want to be the provider or protector in a relationship, and might take pride in being someone his partner could rely on. He’d likely thrive in a dynamic where mutual respect and stability are central.

3. Emotionally Honest (Eventually)

Paulie is passionate and outspoken, and while he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve romantically, he doesn’t bottle things up when it matters. If something was wrong in the relationship, he’d speak up—but probably awkwardly at first. His frustration or affection might come out in gruff, almost comedic ways: “Tch… I can’t get anything done with you lookin’ at me like that.” But beneath that, there's genuine tenderness. Once he feels safe emotionally, he’d become surprisingly sweet, even mushy—but only in private.

4. Touch-Starved Softie (in Denial)

He’s absolutely the type to act like he doesn’t need affection, but once he gets a taste of it, he melts. A hand through his hair while he’s dozing off? He won’t admit it, but he’ll nuzzle into it. A surprise hug? He’ll freeze, go red, and mutter something like “Jeez, warn a guy next time…”—but won’t pull away.

Behind his rope-swinging bravado is a guy who desperately needs quiet intimacy. He’d be the type to fall asleep with his head in your lap while denying he was even tired.

5. Jealous but Never Possessive

Paulie has strong protective instincts. He might get jealous if someone flirts with you, but he wouldn’t control or question your choices. Instead, he’d sulk for five minutes, then make a dramatic (but low-key cute) effort to reassert his importance: fixing something for you, building something with way too much flourish, or throwing an arm around you while trying to act cool. “Heh. Bet that guy can’t build a boat in two days.”

6. Love Language: Acts of Service + Words (Eventually)

He shows love by doing—fixing things, building things, helping you when you didn’t even ask. He won’t always say “I love you” first, but you’ll know it by how he always makes sure you’re warm, safe, and never left behind. Over time, the words will come too—but always when they mean something. No fluff. “You’re the one thing I’d drop my tools for.”

7. Lowkey Romantic—But Embarrassed by It

Paulie wants to be romantic, but he gets embarrassed easily. He’d plan something sweet—like fixing up a quiet seaside deck to stargaze with you—but play it off like it was no big deal: “Just finished repairs out here. Thought you might like the view, that’s all.” If you called him out for being sweet, he'd grumble, but deep down he loves when you notice his effort. He’s the kind of man who gives handmade gifts, even if they’re a little rough around the edges.

8. Deep Respect for Independence

While Paulie is protective, he also respects people who pull their weight and stand on their own. He’d fall hardest for someone with a backbone—someone who challenges him, holds their own in a debate, or surprises him with their cleverness or grit. He doesn’t want a pushover; he wants a partner. He’d admire someone who works hard, and he’d brag about them behind their back.

9. Conflict Style: Loud but Honest

Arguments with Paulie would be loud but short-lived. He doesn’t brood or play games—if something’s wrong, he’ll let it out in the moment. There might be shouting, arm-flailing, dramatic declarations—but no manipulation, no cruelty. Once it’s aired out, he calms quickly and is open to apologizing. He’s emotionally sincere even when upset, and wouldn’t walk away just because things get heated.

10. Acts Protective—but is Vulnerable Inside

He wants to be your shield—your rope-swinging knight in sawdust-covered armor—but there’s a lot of pressure behind that. Underneath the bravado is a man who sometimes feels not good enough, especially around people with greater power (like Franky or the Straw Hats). Your love would mean the world to him because it reassures him that he is enough, just as he is.

11. Ride-or-Die Energy

If you're hurt, threatened, or wronged? Paulie’s going to lose it. He’s the guy who runs headfirst into danger for you, no second thoughts. He might not be the strongest fighter in the world, but his loyalty makes him relentless. He’d pick fights he can’t win for your sake—and do it proudly. “I don’t care if he’s a Warlord—I’ll break his damn face.”

12. Not the Best with Words—but Always Tries

He may fumble his confessions, say dumb things when nervous, or get tongue-tied when trying to express big emotions. But he’ll try. If he sees you upset, he won’t ghost you—he’ll blurt something out, even if it’s awkward. “I—Look, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, but I don’t want you going to bed thinking I don’t care. ‘Cause I do. Way more than I should, maybe.”

13. Long-Term: A Rock-Solid Partner

Over time, Paulie would be the kind of husband or lifelong partner who stays consistent. He might not be flashy or poetic, but he’d be a constant presence. He’d build a life with you plank by plank—secure, loving, grounded. The guy who always comes home, always remembers your tea just how you like it, always fixes the creaky door without being asked. Quiet, loyal permanence.

[sublimerences]

Wanted to do smth fancy for his birthday, buuut it’s been a busy week. So! Here’s some doodles

[wonsiwon]

s.jy

synopsis | after a big argument with jake, your clingy and overly sensitive boyfriend, aka golden retriever, finds it impossible to handle the distance. and let’s face it, who can resist a teary-eyed, overly affectionate guy who’s one step away from curling up in your lap?

pairing | clingyboyfriend! jake x fem! reader

genre | fluff

jake was the kind of person who felt everything too much. it wasn’t a bad thing, he just had a heart so soft it bruised too easily. he was sensitive in a way that made him beautiful, like he carried every emotion so deeply it became a part of him. and when he loved, he loved hard. clingy, desperate, like he didn’t know how to exist without the people he cared about.

he was clingy too, always needing to be close, to touch, to hold. he followed you around the house like a lost puppy, watching you with those big, pleading eyes. he never liked distance, never liked silence between you.

and right now the house was too quiet. not in a peaceful way, but in that heavy, suffocating way that settled after an argument. you both said things you didn’t mean, and he ended up crying. jake always cried during fights. he hated it, tried so hard to hold it back, but he could never help it.

you were sitting on the couch, watching a movie, one you had been watching with him before everything went wrong. your eyes were glued to the screen, pretending to care about what was happening on it, but really, you couldn’t focus.

then you heard the faint sound of footsteps coming from the hallway. you didn’t look up, keeping your gaze fixed on the screen, you knew it was jake. you already saw his messy hair from the corner of your eye, his face poking around the corner of the living room, just enough to make sure you saw him. he didn’t say anything right away, just stood there, watching you with those puppy eyes of his. you didn’t look at him. you couldn’t.

he sighed softly, so soft you barely heard it, and took a slow step into the room. his shoulders were slumped, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly unsure of what to do next.

he shifted closer, then gently slid down to sit beside you, his leg brushing against yours. “i… i don’t like when you’re mad at me..” he mumbled, voice quieter now, almost a whisper. his head dropped to your shoulder, his hair brushing against your skin. you could feel the subtle tremble in his body, the way he leaned into you, needing your comfort, even though you were still angry.

you didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. your shoulder relaxed, just enough for him to rest there without feeling rejected. but even with that small gesture, he still felt uncertain, still felt like he wasn’t allowed to hold you the way he wanted to.

his fingers twitched against your arm before hesitantly gripping onto the sleeve of your shirt, his hold weak, like he was afraid you’d shake him off. he sniffled softly, his breath uneven, and when he spoke again, his voice was so quiet, so broken, it made your chest ache.

“i’m sorry..” he whispered again, barely audible, like he was running out of strength to even say the words. his face buried deeper into your shoulder, and that’s when you felt it. the faint dampness of his tears soaking into your sleeve.

he was still crying. maybe he never really stopped after the argument, just hid away in the bedroom, curled up and upset until he finally couldn’t take the distance anymore.

his body curled into yours instinctively, his arms hesitating before wrapping loosely around you, his grip weak, desperate. “please don’t ignore me…” his voice cracked this time “i hate the silent treatment. it makes me feel like… like i’m in time-out.”

his words wobbled, thick with tears, his breath uneven as he sniffled against your skin.

god, he was so pretty when he cried. his lips were parted, glossy from where he had nervously chewed at them, his big, watery eyes peeking up at you through damp lashes. his cheeks were flushed, his whole face soft and open, so heartbreakingly vulnerable.

you sighed, your fingers twitched before you finally gave in, reaching up to cup his cheek, and he melted instantly, his entire body going boneless against you like he had been waiting for that touch.

“you’re not in time-out, jake.” you murmured, still a little firm, but gentler than before. “but you did piss me off.”

he nodded quickly, his curls bouncing against your shoulder. “i know.” he mumbled, still sniffly, still so soft and needy. “but i don’t wanna be mad at each other anymore. can we just… can we be okay now?”

he looked up at you then, eyes big and pleading, so impossibly pretty, and you sighed, feeling the last of your frustration slip away.

instead of answering, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. just a quick press of your lips, light and fleeting. but then he made this tiny, breathless sound, like he couldn’t believe you were kissing him after all that, and it made something in you soften completely.

so you did it again. and again.

a little kiss on the tip of his nose. then one on his jaw, lingering just slightly. then another right at the corner of his mouth, where his lips were still wobbly from crying.

jake blinked up at you, dazed, his breath stuttering like he didn’t know what to do with himself. and then, without thinking, he surged forward, pressing his face against yours, clumsily chasing after your lips.

his kisses were messy, desperate, all over the place. he kissed your cheek, your chin, your forehead—anywhere he could reach. his hands were gripping at your waist now, still shaky but holding on a little tighter, like he never wanted to let go.

“i love you..” he mumbled between kisses, his voice still stuffy from crying. “i love you, i love you, i love you—”

you laughed softly, tilting his face up so you could kiss him properly, slow and sweet, until he sighed into your mouth and melted against you completely.

he made this tiny sound against your lips, something between a sigh and a whimper. his hands trembled where they clung to you, fingers curling tighter into the fabric of your shirt.

“missed you..” he whispered between kisses, his nose bumping against yours. “hated being away from you…”

“i was right here, jake,” you murmured, your fingers slipping into his curls, gently scratching at his scalp. he shivered under your touch, melting even further into you.

“no..” he sniffled, shaking his head against your skin. “felt too far.”

you sighed, kissing the top of his head, feeling the way he practically purred at the affection. he was always like this, too soft, too clingy, too desperate for closeness, especially after a fight.

“you’re so dramatic..” you muttered, but your arms wrapped around him anyway, pulling him even closer.

he let out a breathy, content little sigh, pressing a few more lazy, sleepy kisses along your collarbone. “only for you.” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

[melminli]

Dirty Cash (Money Talks)

summary - you had nothing against your colleague, but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by his innocent smile and appearance since you knew exactly what kind of corrupt person was hiding behind that costume. after all, you were wearing the same one.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. recruiter reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: talk about gambling + death and murder, sexual tension?, crack and just evil morals tbh

a/n: i watched maybe the first fifteen minutes or so of bullet train, but i thought of the two funny dudes from it while writing this bcuz their dynamic was funny af. also, i will use the actor's name in this fic since the character itself doesn't really have an official one that was mentioned in the series!

You straightened your tie with your free hand while watching your train approach from the side. The station was always pretty empty at this hour, which saved you the jostling and squeezing as you entered. After that, you sat down comfortably with a light sigh - next to the free seat beside your devilishly handsome colleague. “Are you alright? Don't tell me that you had a exhausting day?” he asked you worriedly with his typical innocent smile on his face but you've known the guy for a while now and you knew exactly how dishonest he sounded right now.

You returned his gaze for a second, uninterested, before turning it back in front of you to observe your surroundings from the window. “Exhausting day? Don't make fun of me or I'll punch you in the face,” you replied monotone and Gong Yoo didn't doubt your statement for a second - or Ji-cheol as you preferred to call him since you weren't a big fan of nicknames. “I had a great time punching those bastards in the face one by one. It feels kinda therapeutic, so I'm actually feeling pretty good right now,” you told him, talking about the subject as if you were talking about the weather.

Your colleague grunted with delight at your good news. “And I would never disagree with you on that.” he said and then just watched your figure silently for a while before speaking up again. “Since you're in such a good mood, would you be willing to play a more private game between the two of us?” he suggested, making you look at him in utter disbelief.

“A private game? With you?” you repeated, amused and laughed in his face. “Hell, no. But don't worry, I'll let you know next time I want to get totally screwed by a freaky pervert,” you added, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Which will be, never.

“Come on, don't be like that,” he asked you sweetly. As sweet as the wolf who pretended to be the mother of the seven little goats before he ate them all one by one. “It's just a tiny, harmless game. It's been so long since we've played anything together.” he complained to you earnestly as if you actually cared, and you didn't.

Yeah, you remembered the last time very clearly, even if you would much rather prefer that you didn't. You hummed. “Is that so? Huh. I mean, it could be because you almost killed me in a fucking game of tic-tac-toe the last time, but that's just a theory.” You said with a shrug, clearly still resenting him for that. However, he just rolled his eyes unaffected by your grudge. “But you didn't, right? It was the other guy who got the bullet in his head.” He replied, not even remembering his name. Not that he had to.

You just glared at him while you rubbed your forehead. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm tired of risking my life just because it makes you horny and you can jerk off to it.” You made your feelings on the matter clear. “You know that the whole living on the edge of death thing isn't really my cup of tea. At least try to understand me a bit here, too.”

I suppose she's not entirely wrong, I could give it a try. I never thought about it like that before, did I? He thought to himself in his head as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth while he pondered. How selfish of me. “So what exactly do I have to do, to convince you?” He asked you while he already had a few ideas in mind.

You grinned. “You know that very well, don't play dumb.” You demanded as you leaned closer to him so that he could hear what you were singing softly. “Money talks, money talks - dirty cash, I want you, and dirty cash, I need you, oh ~”

He raised an eyebrow, not particularly surprised. “So you want to play for money?” He repeated it, not outright rejecting your request. “Don't you have enough of that already? You're really insatiable when it comes to cash and now you want mine, too?” he joked just to get you worked up.

Though, you didn't get the slightest bit offended by what he said. “Can you ever have enough money? Besides, I'm not forcing you to give it to me, am I?” you said with a smile, already knowing that he would agree to your terms. “But if you want me to play with you, I want eight million won for every round I win.”

She's so greedy for someone who is already more than wealthy. “Aren't you exaggerating a bit? Most people don't earn that much in a month,” he continued his act of - whatever this was - because he just loved arguing with you.

“So? We both have the same salary, I know you can afford it,” you said, holding a hand in the air as soon as you felt that he wanted to stretch this unnecessary conversation even more. “You have to decide now what you want to do or I withdraw my proposal again.”

Gong Yoo closed his mouth and started grinning even wider. “You don't even want to know what kind of game I want to play?” he asked curiously, nodding and accepting whatever you wanted as soon as he saw that you actually weren't interested. You couldn't even imagine how gladly he gave in to you at this moment. “All right, I agree with your request.”

You stood up with your briefcase in hand after your station was announced. “Good. Text me when you have something in mind, I'll be there as long as it fits timewise.”

Your colleague continued to watch you with a look on his face that used to make you more than just uncomfortable back in the day - though, it didn't even bother you in the slightest now. “You don't want to accompany me to the...office?”

You smiled while the train started to slow down. “Au revoir, Ji-cheol.” you just said your goodbye to him and stepped out of the doors. You didn't even spare the poor guy a second glance when he waved his hand at you from the window. She can be so heartless sometimes, he thought to himself, even if you were like this pretty much all the time. I'll have to think of something good to ask for in return should I win. I'm definitely not going to hold back when there's this much money at stake.

You didn't give a second thought to anything as you made your way home after a day's work like any normal citizen would do. However, your steps slowed considerably when you noticed a beggar in your field of vision and even though the rest of the crowd ignored the man and his entire existence, you couldn't help but focus your full attention on him. You looked at your watch, I've been off work for a while now. But even then, you couldn't help but notice that he was one of the people on your list to recruit for the game. He'll still be here tomorrow, but I don't mind another round of Ddakji. I love money more than anything - but I'm not doing this job for only that.

“Excuse me,” you spoke to the man with a polite smile on your face, and he only submissively avoided your gaze as he listened to you. After all, one rarely approached people like him and why would they? He held his cup of loose change out in front of him, probably expecting you to give him a small donation, but you wanted to give him so much more than that. Even if the guy didn't know it right now - you wanted to give him another chance in life, so that he wouldn't continue to be just a miserable failure.

You ignored his donation cup. “I was wondering if you might have a moment because I'd like to make you an offer,” you continued politely and the man met your gaze at that. Yeah, you were really looking forward to what was about to happen - after all, you were known for letting your opponent only win if you allowed them to.

[carlthecloaked]

Wrong Number, Right Person

tried writing something after a while :3| 1.3k words | no cw |

|chapter 2|

Steve was pissed.

This date was not working out. At all.

He thought he was going out with this sweet guy from California. At least, that’s what his Tinder profile had made it seem like. But clearly, he had been very wrong.

Where would he even start?

First of all, the guy wouldn’t shut up about his ex.

Like, she sounded great and all, but maybe don’t talk about her the entire time we’re on a date?

Secondly, he wasn’t even listening to what Steve was saying. Half the time, he was scrolling through Instagram, looking at his ex's profile. Laughing at whatever post he was looking at, or he was texting someone else.

Third—and perhaps the worst part—the guy had the personality of a wet sock. Zero energy. No conversation skills. Just dull. Clearly not the charming, funny guy he’d seemed to be over text.

Steve sighed internally. Guess that was his fault for believing his Tinder profile was real.

And then, as if the date wasn’t already bad enough—

“So, are we going to your place or mine? "

Steve barely stopped himself from gaping. He forced a polite smile instead, setting down his drink.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is working out,” he said smoothly, placing his half of the bill on the table. “I have to go.”

The guy blinked, as if he hadn’t just bombed the entire date.

“But wait—”

Steve walked fast out of the cafe, he had to get out of there quickly.

“Ugh, that was the worst. I have to go tell Robin.”

While walking to the subway, he winced as he opened his backup phone. It wasn't as good as his currently broken phone. He totally didn't drop it in the toilet. Nope, that never happened.

He sighed, scrolling through his messages. He still hadn’t updated his contacts, so every number looked unfamiliar. Normally, he’d recognize Robin’s name instantly, but now? It was just random numbers.

He just figured he would text the most recent number, It'll probably be fine.

Steve: WORST date ever. like worst ever. robs i swear to god i wish i could turn back time and never swiped right on him at all. if you ever see me texting him again, throw a microwave at me

Unknown Number: any personal preference or do i just chuck it at you

Steve: chuck it

Steve: robbie i swear it was SO bad

Unknown Number: oh i didn't realize you'd actually think i was your friend

Unknown Number: uh yeah so this is not robbie

Oh. Steve blinked at his phone.

Huh.

That was… unexpected. But not bad, necessarily. Just—Huh.

He stared at the message for a second longer before shaking his head, exhaling through his nose. This was fine. Totally fine.

Steve: oh god

Steve: i'm so sorry wrong number

Unknown Number: it's fine lol

Unknown Number: but how bad was it though, like on a scale of “awkward as hell” to “can the ground swallow me whole?”

Steve hesitated.

He shouldn’t keep talking. He should just apologize again and move on.

But… what else was he doing today?

Steve: definitely “can the ground swallow me whole?” territory

Unknown Number: okay now i'm definitely invested. spill the tea

Steve: dude. he kept on going on and on about his ex, i swear it went on for 30 minutes. THIRTY. MINUTES.

Unknown Number: 🚩🚩🚩 IMMEDIATE red flag, redder than the color red

Steve: RIGHT??? and when he finally stopped he just kept scrolling on his phone

Steve: he was stalking her insta too 😭

Unknown Number: are you fr???

Steve: i wish i was lying but nope

Steve: then when i tried talking about literally anything else other than his ex he’d just respond with “yeah” or “whatever”

Unknown Number: what does that even mean??????

Steve: i have literally no idea

Steve: he even had the NERVE to ask if we would go to his place or mine

Unknown Number: the AUDACITY. the sheer unhinged delusion. did he think he was charming?????

Steve: LMAO stop i can't💀

Unknown Number: i bet he thought you 'd swoon bat your eyelashes and say “oh my god, yes! let's go to another place where you can pretend i'm not there!”

Steve lips curled at the stranger’s response before replying back

Steve: honestly i wouldn't be surprised if he thought that i should be grateful for his presence

Unknown Number: i can't believe you suffered through that

Unknown Number: no wait, you didn't suffer. you endured and you survived. for that you deserve an award. a dramatic opera performance

Steve: i hate how funny you are

Steve grins at his phone.

Unknown Number: you can repay me by continued conversation ;)

Steve: okay but you have to say who you are though

Steve: please don't tell me this is my professor🙏

Unknown Number: lol no definitely not your professor

Unknown Number: but i kinda want to keep it secret now, adds to my mysterious aura

Steve: no hints? :(

Unknown Number: i have hair

Steve: wow that really narrows it down. i totally know who you are.

Unknown Number: good luck finding it out ;)

Steve tilted his head, amused.

There was a pause.

Steve stared at his phone for a second, drumming his fingers against the back of it. He wasn’t sure why, but something about this felt… different. Not bad, just—unexpected.

He should probably just let it go. It wasn’t like it mattered who this guy was, right?

Still.

Steve: so are you gonna give me a real hint or do i just have to suffer

Unknown Number: hmm. suffer sounds fun

Steve let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. Great. Just his luck to end up texting someone who enjoyed messing with him.

And, okay. Maybe he didn’t mind that much.

The subway car jolted slightly as it began to slow, Steve barely looked up from his phone, used to the way the train moved as it went into the station. The train came to a stop, the doors opening with a mechanical chime, letting in the sound of city noise and passengers.

He stood up getting out and walking to his and Robin’s apartment nearby, glancing at his phone occasionally to check if the stranger texted again.

Steve barely had the door open before Robin’s voice rang out from the couch.

“Finally! What took you so long? Did the date go well?”

Steve groaned, kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the couch next to her.

“You have no idea. I swear to God, worst date ever.”

Robin gasped dramatically, “Worse than the girl who ordered an expensive meal and made you pay?”

“Way worse”

“Way worse than the one who left you at the bar for three hours?”

“Robin.”

“Okay, okay tell me everything.”

Steve launched into the whole story, how the guy wouldn’t stop talking about his ex, stalking his ex’s instagram, the dry-ass responses and the sheer audacity of asking if they were going to his place or their shared apartment.

“That’s tragic Steve, how are you so unlucky at this?”

“I have no idea man, I guess I just attract weird people.”

“Why didn’t you text me?”

Steve suddenly sat up, remembering. “Oh, speaking of.”

Robin narrowed her eyes.

“So, uh I may or may not have accidentally texted a stranger about it.”

Robin grinned in amusement. “What?”

“I thought it was you!” Steve said defensively. “I haven’t updated my contacts on this phone yet, and I just picked the most recent number in the list.”

Robin stared. “Wait. Hold on. You had a whole conversation with a stranger instead of asking who they were like a normal person?”

Steve shrugged. “They were funny.”

Robin gasped again, dramatically. “Oh my god. You like them.”

“What? No. I dont even know who they are!”

“But you want to”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, then closed it.

Robin grinned, throwing a pillow at him. “You absolute idiot. We’re figuring this out right now.

Steve caught the pillow. “Fine. But if this turns into some embarrassing rom-com nonsense I’m blaming you.”

“Oh it’s already a rom-com, Stevie. You just don’t know it yet.”

Steve sighed, but smiled anyway.

Maybe he did want to know.

[gojodickbig]

car sex with bsf!satoru x f!reader😗

conts: nsfw!!! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!

wc: 3k.

divider from @uzmacchiato !!

if looks could kill,

that brunette dude you were just chatting with? yeah, he’d already be six feet under.

don’t get him wrong—satoru gojo isn’t the jealous type. seriously, he’s not. and he knows you’re not doing anything wrong; you’re just out here having fun. but watching you laugh at some guy’s jokes? that was enough to make his blood boil and his head spin like he might actually hurl.

and seriously, he knew for a fact that guy wasn’t that funny.

so why the hell were you laughing so much?

satoru knows that what he’s about to do now isn’t fair. not even close. because he’s just your best friend. he’s been your best friend for years now—the one who’s always had your back, the one who’s sat through your messy breakups, listened to your drunken venting, and never once let you down. you trust him with your life.

he’s your ride or die.

and god, you’re his.

and unfortunately for that guy, satoru gojo doesn’t share what’s his.

or well…what’s about to be his.

satoru moves through the crowd, his sharp eyes never leaving you. your smile was still a little too wide for his liking.

when he reaches you, your eyes settle on him, and your look softens.

his heart stopped for a second.

“oh! satoru,” you say, flashing him a smile, “this is—”

“sorry,” gojo cuts you off, his voice smooth, turning to the guy and flashing him one of his disarming grins. “i need to borrow her for a sec.”

you blink, surprised by the interruption, but before you can even protest, gojo’s hand is around your arm, guiding you away.

“we’re leaving,” he says firmly, his voice a little too low.

you stumble a bit to keep up with his pace. “wait, satoru, what’s going on? why—?”

he doesn’t say anything right away, pulling you through the crowd and outside into the cool night air. when you’re out of sight of the party, he finally slows down, but he doesn’t let go of your arm. stopping, he turns to face you.

“seriously, what was that?” you ask, your tone a little confused, but you have a pretty good idea of what’s going on.

he takes a deep breath, like he’s just been through a war. “he was getting way too close to you,” he mutters, his voice tight. “and you were—” he stops himself for a second, like he’s trying to control his frustration. “fuck—i just didn’t like it.”

you blink, thrown off by the sudden shift. “satoru, we were just talking. it wasn’t like that.”

gojo crosses his arms and gives you a pointed look, his mouth twisting into a frustrated but amused frown. “don’t play dumb. you were leaning in, hanging on his every word. i’ve never heard you laugh that much at my jokes.”

you open your mouth to protest, but before you can even speak, a small laugh escapes your lips.

“so that’s what it’s about?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you’re jealous?” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “satoru, i wasn’t leaning into him. i don’t even like him. he’s just a friend from middle school. he recognized me and came to say hi. we were just catching up. i was laughing because he was telling me stories from back then, not because he’s some funny guy.”

gojo’s jaw tightens, his brows furrowing as he looks at you. then he lets out a low, frustrated “oh,” like the realization just hit him. “so you weren’t getting all googly-eyed over him?”

you shrug, suppressing a smile. “no, dumbass, i wasn’t.”

he runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his cool. “well, shit. i don’t know why it bugged me so much. guess i just don’t like seeing other guys around you. especially when you give them that look.”

you roll your eyes, unable to hold back the smile now. “i told you, i wasn’t giving him any look and he was just being friendly.”

he shrugs with a grin, trying to act cool. “yeah, well, i didn’t like it anyway.”

-

the walk to the car had been quiet, too quiet for you. when you two arrived at the car, he opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in.

“get inside. please.”

sliding into the seat, you barely had time to register the sound of the door slamming before he rounded the car and climbed in beside you.

the car was dark, the faint glow of the streetlight outside illuminating his sharp features as he turned to you.

“i’m sorry, by the way. i didn’t want to ruin your night, you know. but fuck, you drive me fucking crazy. seeing you talking so close with that guy drove me mad.” he reached out, his hand sliding up your face and squeezing it gently. “do you even realize what you do to me? i’m so fucking tired of hiding it just because i don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

your breath hitched as his words sank in, your pulse pounding in your ears. “satoru—”

“shh,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. “i’m talking now.”

his hand reached out, sliding down your thigh and pushing the hem of your dress higher. “tell me to stop, sweetheart. tell me to stop, and i will.”

“satoru—”

“tell me, baby. what do you want? want me to stop?” his hand slid higher, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. he groaned softly, his breath hot against your skin.

“no—no, please don’t stop.”

and in that moment, satoru gojo lost his mind.

before you could process anything else, his lips were on yours. rough. hungry. demanding. his hand left your thigh to grip the back of your neck, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. his tongue parted your lips with no hesitation, sliding against yours as if claiming every part of you in that moment.

the kiss was hot and dizzying, leaving you breathless as he devoured you like he’d been waiting for this forever. his teeth scraped against your lower lip, a low growl rumbling in his throat when he heard the soft whimper you couldn’t hold back.

he pulled back suddenly, his hand leaving your neck as he reached down to undo his belt with quick, practiced movements. the sound of the buckle clinking echoed in the tight space, followed by the low rasp of his zipper. he freed himself, his cock hard and throbbing, the sight making your mouth go dry.

“come here,” he ordered, his hands gripping your hips as he guided you onto his lap.

the cramped space made it awkward—your knees bumping against the console, your dress tangling even more up around your thighs. his hands slid under your thighs again, lifting you slightly to settle you over him. you gasped when his hand returned to your panties, his fingers teasing you one last time before pulling them aside.

“fuck, you’re soaked,” he murmured, his fingers sliding through your slick heat. “you were thinking about this too, weren’t you?”

“yes,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“that’s what i thought,” he said, his grin cocky as he pressed his thumb against your clit, drawing a soft whimper from your lips. “fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “so desperate for me. say it.”

“s-say what?”

“say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. “i’m yours, satoru. all yours. always.”

“damn right you are.”

you bucked against his hand faster, chasing the pleasure he was giving you, but he stopped suddenly, pulling his hand away entirely. you whined at the loss of contact, but he only smirked, guiding his cock to your entrance.

“take it slow, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “i don’t want to hurt you.”

you bit your lip as you sank down onto him, the stretch making your breath hitch. his hands gripped your hips tightly, grounding you as you adjusted to the feeling.

his lips found yours again, this time slower but just as intense, as if he was savoring you now. the kiss deepened with every second. you clung to him, trying to adjust to his cock, feeling like you might melt into the seat if he didn’t hold you up.

“fuck,” you gasped, your head falling against his shoulder. “you’re so big—it feels so goooood.”

his chest rumbled with a groan, his grip on your hips tightening. “yeah? taking me so fucking well, baby.”

you tried to move, but the cramped space and his overwhelming size left you breathless. his hands slid down to your ass, lifting you slightly to guide you. he thrust up into you in sharp, deliberate strokes, hitting spots that had you crying out.

“fuck, satoru,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. “you’re so deep. i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he growled, his voice rough. “you’re made for me. just like that, baby. perfect fucking pussy—fuck.” he groaned.

your rhythm quickened, desperation driving your movements. the sound of your skin meeting his filled the small space, his low groans and your soft moans mingling in the dark.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” he asked, his thumb finding your clit again. “i can feel it. let go for me, baby girl. come on.”

your orgasm hit like a wave, your walls clenching around him as your body shook. the pleasure tore through you, leaving you gasping for air as your head dropped onto his shoulder.

“fuck,” he hissed, his pace faltering as he neared his own release. his voice was strained when he spoke again. “where do you want it, sweetheart? tell me.”

“inside,” you breathed, your voice trembling but certain. “want it inside. toru, please.”

“god, you’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, gripping your hips tightly as he buried himself deep. with one final thrust, he came, spilling into you as a guttural moan tore from both your lips and his. the heat of him filled you, the sensation making your already trembling body shiver.

for a few moments, the car was silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing. satoru’s hands slid up your back, holding you against his chest as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“i should’ve told you what i feel for you sooner if i’d known your pussy was this good…” he let out a breathy laugh, clearly pleased with himself.

you lifted your head, your hand swatting weakly at his shoulder. “you’re unbelievable,” you muttered, though the slight curve of your lips betrayed you.

“yeah? but now you’re stuck with me,” he smirked, tilting his head to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss this time.

when he pulled back, his pale blue eyes locked onto yours, unguarded for once. “i mean it, though,” he said, voice softer now. “i should’ve told you how i feel sooner. you’ve always been it for me, you know?”

your chest tightened at his words, the raw sincerity in his tone making your heart race all over again. “well,” you murmured, brushing a strand of his hair back, “you’ve got me now, so don’t screw it up.”

satoru chuckled, the cocky grin returning to his face.

“trust me, sweetheart. i wasn’t planning on it.”

he leaned in, pressing one last kiss to your lips, and as his arms tightened around you, you knew you’d never want him to. “let’s go home now, yeah?”

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[dollbrbie]

♡ ⸝⸝ I LOVE YOU

cw. fratboy!isagi, smut mdni, body worship, soft sex, isagi is so so so sweet in this, reader is a lil tipsy tho, crying during sex lol, they love each other sm it’s nauseating, very fluffy at the end

“isagi. fuck off.”, you groan, isagi’s hand on your wrist as you attempt to walk away.

“no. i’m so done with you pretending like you’re fine without me. you- you never wanted this. there’s no way you just randomly wanted to leave me.”, he frowns with a frustrated tone.

“i’m not doing this in front of everyone.”, you sigh, “it’s embarrassing.”

you’re not even sure how you got yourself in this situation. you were just partying with your girls, actually having some fun since your breakup. and the next minute, you had isagi’s hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away with his cheeks flushed in anger.

he huffs, pulling you towards him before looking for some empty bedroom to talk to you in, “well, we’re in private now.”, he crosses his arms, “and you’re gonna tell me why you left me, i don’t deserve this.”

you frown, “i told you why..”

“i don’t believe you. i don’t believe that you just wanted to throw everything away so randomly.”

“it wasn’t- it wasn’t random.”, you sigh, “shouldn’t you be happy about this? i don’t get why you keep holding onto this, onto me.”

he frowns in confusion, “why would i be happy that my girlfriend left me?”

maybe it was the fact you were tipsy, maybe it was because you missed him. but, you just felt yourself pouring out the truth that was so desperate to come out, “because i’ve- i’ve never been good enough for you. everyone says it! we don’t make sense.”

“what?”, he mumbles

“don’t act like you don’t know. you’ve heard what your friends said and it’s not like you said anything to them about it.”, you sigh, crossing your arms and looking up at isagi with a frown.

“my friends.. said shit to you? baby, please- please tell me you didn’t break up with me cause of that.”, he utters, itching closer to you with a pained expression.

you shrug, “yeah, but it’s not like they were wrong, so..”

he rubs up your shoulders, his touch so gentle and reassuring that you just wanted to cry in his arms. but you couldn’t. there’s no way you could do that right now.

“what did they say?”, he demands, an unusual tone for isagi.

“that- that i wasn’t good enough, that you shouldn’t be with a girl like me cause im too mean or whatever..”, you admit, causing isagi’s jaw to clench as he rubs his hand over his face.

“and you listened to that? you really let those assholes to you? you know i’m not even that close with them. fuck- i can’t believe you’d just let that get to your head.”

you feel your throat tighten at his tone. it was so rare to see isagi this heated, this angry, “can you stop getting mad at me?”, you ask with a crack in your voice. god that’s embarrassing.

isagi feels his heart break a little at that.

“i’m sorry- shit, i’m sorry, baby.”, he whispers, pulling you to his chest once he see’s you glossy eyes.

“i didn’t know what to do.. i thought i was doing you a favour.”

“don’t ever say shit like that. if you think i’m gonna let a few words from those guys in my frat break us up then you clearly don’t know me, baby.”, he declares, looking down at your face.

you were weirdly pretty like this, your eyes red and glossy, your glossy lips parted and your eyebrows pinched together.

and isagi just can’t help himself, pulling you into a rough, passionate kiss. he’s needed this, needed you.

and he was gonna make sure you knew it.

. . . ♡

you cry out as you feel your fourth orgasm build up, that blinding white pleasure creeping up on you again, “isagi- baby, please. it’s too much..”

“you can do just one more, can’t you? c’mon. show me how much you missed me, yeah?”, he coaxes, his hand gently wrapped around you neck as he pulls you in for a desperate kiss, bottoming out inside of you and kissing your cervix.

isagi has never been so rough before and it felt good.

the way he took you like he knew you belonged to him, like he was really marking you as his and claiming his territory was something you didn’t know you needed. he was always so sweet and gentle that it had never even crossed your mind that isagi could be like this.

“you’re mine. my girlfriend. i’m never letting you even think of leaving me again.”, he groans against your lips as his cock throbs against your gummy walls, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming pleasure.

you feel your walls flutter around his cock as you whisper, “i’m yours, baby.”

as soon as isagi feels those words he’s been so desperate to hear, he whimpers. resting his forehead against yours, he continues fucking you like he’s never before whilst his free hand explores your body, rolling and pinching your sensitive bud.

you moan against his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist as your hips stutter in attempt to match his pace, your body so, so close to climaxing.

“y’gonna cum, aren’t you?” he mumbles, “i can feel it.. c’mon, cum for me, please?”

and you do, crying out in pleasure as you attach your lips to isagi’s, his own orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks once he feels your walls flutter around him, “oh- shit..”

you feel your thighs grow weak and your toes curl, rolling you eyes back as you struggle to catch your breath. all you could do was focus on isagi, his face beautiful as he cums. god, you missed this, you missed him. you didn’t even begin to think how much you needed this man before, but you had been so naive.

you are hopelessly in love with him.

“i love you- i love you- i love you-”, you chant like a beautiful prayer, your eyes watering from the intense feeling in your chest. this wasn’t your orgasm, it was your heart. your heart finally realising that isagi was your soulmate.

“i love you too- so much, baby. please, i can’t do this without you. i can’t live without you.”, he admits, his voice trembling as he cradles the back of your head.

“i’m not leaving, isagi. never, ever again.”, you promise.

and this is a promise you’ll keep because the truth was too strong.

you couldn’t live without your fratboy, yoichi isagi.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[oreoluvskento]

gojo being dangerously loud

a/n: i know this is supposed to be a nanami focused account but hear me out... whiny gojo. that's it.

cw: cunnilingus, riding, ummm gojo being drunk and loud and his baby girl moans, semi-public sex (they're in a bathroom), i am so horny and i just need him so bad

you love the sounds your boyfriend makes during sex. he's never been shameful about it either, always loud and proud about the way your pussy makes him feel. this time, however, you wish he'd shut up.

you two are currently in your friends bathroom during a drunk movie night. you were both pretty tipsy, gojo more drunk than you and you were having a great time. all of a sudden, he doubled over, making it obvious to everyone that there was something wrong and he needed a bathroom fast.

except, when you follow him in and he locks the door behind you, there is nothing wrong with him at all, besides the raging boner he was currently sporting. your eyes widened when you saw it, but the casamigos in your bloodstream was stopping you from thinking clearly and the next thing you knew, you were getting eaten out on your friends bathroom floor.

"'toru, fuck, i'm close!" you whisper, holding his head harder and he speeds up, his tongue flicking your clit constantly as his two middle fingers are going to work. when you cum, you cover your mouth with your hand as your back arches off the floor and gojo doesn't pull away. you have to manually drag him away from you and he immediately goes for your lips, making your mouth just as messy as his own.

as the two of you kiss, he sits up and pulls you against his body sitting against the bathtub. you make quick work of his pants and without wasting any time you lower yourself on him. the last thing you expected was for him to throw his head back and let out one of the sluttiest moans you had ever heard. "ahhh fuckkk!"

you quickly slap your hand against his mouth and pray to god that no one heard that. he lifts his head and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes, whimpering quietly against your hand at your pussy pulsing around him. "satoru, you've got to be quiet, baby, okay?" you ask and he nods, his cheeks red.

you finally lift your hips and before you could even go back down, a deep groan comes from his throat and you stop again. he gets impatient and pulls you down himself, dropping his forehead against yours as he moves you faster.

"mmph feels too good, can't stop," he says breathlessly against your palm, and you have to drop your head on his shoulder at the speed he was going. he truly was trying his best, but as the two of you went on, his whines got louder and louder until they were hoarse moans.

"im close, im close, please, please, please!" he cries against your skin and you take over, pressing your lips against his in the process. he moans into the kiss, his body going weak when you trade the fast movement for slow, deeper movements.

"you like it, 'toru?" you ask, your lips moving against his. he nods quickly, tears beginning to form in his eyes at the sensitivity of his dick but you don't stop.

"baby please- haaa fuckkk!" he begs squeezing your hips and you shake your head.

"promise me you'll be quiet when you cum," you instruct and he nods furiously, just wanting to feel his orgasm. you take his word for it, partly because you were ready to cum too, but you cover his mouth for safe measures.

you go faster now, grinding your hips down on his, and almost as soon as you start, you feel him start to shake and thrust into you himself. "ah, ah ahhhh fuck, fuck, fuck, cummingggg!"

before you could say anything, he holds you down, his head buried in your neck as he moans in your ear and your orgasm hits as well, spurring him on. "ohh shitshitshit too much too much fuuuck!" he cries, holding your body against his as you ride your orgasm out. right when you finish, you hear a knock on the door and your friend's concerned voice.

"hey, is he okay in there, do you guys need help?" her voice rings out and your eyes widen.

"yeah, he's okay, just drank a bit too much!" you shout back and turn back to look at your boyfriend. "cough," you instruct and he does just that. you reach to the side and flush the toilet and pretend to pat his back. "that's okay, get it all out."

"okay, there's some water in the kitchen for him when he's done," she says and leaves. you let out a sigh of relief and drop your head on a slightly sobered up gojo's chest.

"my bad," he whispers and you roll your eyes as you stand up.

"shut up."

[witherby]

do you think that the batfam has different ways of explaining their bruises/injuries they get from crimefighting to an observant mouse? 👼👼👼

--🎆

Fantastic question! I think growing up in Wayne Manor would make it exceptionally difficult to hide the vigilantism from you. They could 100% do it, but it would take about a thousand times more effort concealing it from you than the general public, so I don't think they would.

You're very young when you start really piecing it together, though, so they're gonna have to tell you what happened in child-friendly ways.

The Littlest Wayne: Post-Battle Injuries

1. Bruce

"Wha' happen, daddy?"

This man is not a good liar, but he dodges the truth like it's an Olympic sport. Like any public figure worth their salt, he's gonna answer the question without answering the question.

"Well, when Daddy has to go be Batman, sometimes he gets hurt. The boo-boos will go away after a while, and everything is going to be fine. You'll have to hug gently for a few days."

What he doesn't say is that he took a toyota corolla pushing 70 to the ribs and can feel the broken bones shifting and rubbing together like wet chopsticks under his skin, it's fucking nauseating, and he needs to go pass out as soon as he puts you down for a nap.

2. Dick

"Uh-oh, Dinky hurty?"

If Bruce is admired for keeping his cool in the wake of grievous injury, then Dick wrote the fucking book on it. His picture shows up when you google "gaslight gatekeep girlboss." He could lose a limb and convince you it's always been like that with a straight face. You'll never catch his ass lacking.

"Dinky fell down," he says easily, scooping you into his arms, "but he's fine! See? All okay!" His face doesn't even twitch from all his wounds getting aggravated. There is shrapnel embedded in his back from being thrown through a window and tumbling down the roof. The broken-off blade of a knife is jammed up in his thigh. His right hand has lost all feeling in it from blocking a pipe getting swung at him. There are black spots in his vision. He's lost so much blood it's nothing short of divine intervention keeping him conscious.

You'd bet your ass if you need him to go sprint a 10k right now, though, he's lacing up his tennis shoes.

3. Tim

"Timmy, what wrong?"

He's gonna tell you the truth, and he's the only one that'll tell you the truth. He'll just omit the gorey bits because they're not beneficial to you.

"Oh, this? Bad guy got me good with his knife. It hurts a lot so don't touch it... I just said don't touch it...okay fine, go wash your hands first before you touch it."

He didn't like being kept out of the loop as a child, especially a child that had to raise himself, so he tells you about anything and everything you ask. He'll tell you what medical supplies he's grabbing and why. He'll tell you his estimated recovery time. He'll tell you what wounds the others have, if any. He'll let you touch the safe tools, like gauze and bandages and antibiotic ointment. He'll show you how to apply them, too, and then quickly take you to the sink to wash the blood from your hands.

4. Jason

"Jay-Jay ouchies?"

He's the most unintentionally awkward about it. I think being brought back to life in the Lazarus Pit really fucked up his ability to feel pain. The major injuries still sting — gunshots, stabs, broken bones — but bruises and black eyes and sprains fly under the radar very often.

"Uh, no," he shrugs, looking at the myriad of colorful bruising you just pointed out on his arm. "No ouchies." He's not exactly lying, it doesn't hurt, but it is very clearly an injury. This confuses and upsets you often.

5. Damian

"Dami got a booboo?"

He's lying every single time. He's your older brother. He's a dangerous killing machine. His skill and combat prowess are unmatched. He needs you to think he's incredible and amazing and cool.

"Those half-wit simpletons could never dream of landing a hit on me. Any blood on my clothes is simply not mine."

One of the goons actually clipped his side with a bullet and it really, really hurts. His hands are flexing and he's got sweat running down his neck from the pain. He would actually rather die than let you know that, though.

[lazysoulwriter]

say something! - drew starkey.

requested! ♡ hope u like it. you can ask something here. ♡

----

You could tell something was wrong the second Drew walked through the door. Normally, he’d greet you with a lazy smile, maybe pull you into a hug before even taking his shoes off. But tonight, there was none of that.

He barely looked at you, jaw tight as he kicked off his sneakers and tossed his keys onto the counter with more force than necessary.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, testing the waters. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” he muttered, heading straight for the fridge.

That wasn’t normal.

You frowned, setting down your phone. “Are you sure? You seem… off.”

Drew let out a sharp breath through his nose, gripping the fridge handle like he was grounding himself. He stayed quiet for a long moment, then finally turned to face you.

“Who was he?”

Your stomach twisted at his tone—low, controlled, but simmering with something beneath the surface.

“Who was who?” you asked, confused.

His eyes darkened, jaw clenching. “The guy you were all over earlier.”

The accusation hit like a slap. You blinked, stunned. “What?”

“I saw you,” he continued, arms crossing over his chest. “At the coffee shop. Laughing with him. Touching his arm.”

You replayed the moment in your mind—the harmless conversation with your coworker, a brief touch on his arm as you laughed at something stupid he’d said. Nothing more.

But to Drew, it clearly hadn’t looked that way.

“Drew, that wasn’t—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “I don’t need an excuse.”

You stared at him, anger rising now. “Excuse?”

“I spend all day thinking about coming home to you,” he said, voice tight, “and then I see that.”

Your eyes narrowed. “So, what? You’re accusing me of something now?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “Should I be?”

That hurt.

The weight of his words settled heavy in your chest, like a stone sinking to the bottom of a deep pool.

You exhaled sharply. “That’s not fair.”

Drew let out a bitter laugh. “You know what’s not fair? Watching the person you love act like that with someone else.”

“Act like what?” you demanded. “I was talking to him, Drew! A coworker. That’s all. And if you had just asked instead of assuming the worst, I would’ve told you that.”

His expression flickered—just for a second—but the frustration was still there. “I saw the way you looked at him.”

Your anger softened, just a little. “You saw what you wanted to see.”

His breathing was uneven now, hands on his hips as he stared at the floor. When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

The shift in his tone knocked the wind out of you. He wasn’t angry. He was scared.

Your heart ached. “You won’t.”

Drew let out a slow breath, finally looking at you again. “Sometimes, I just… overthink. It’s stupid, I know.” He shook his head, frustration now directed at himself. “I saw you with him, and I freaked out.”

You stepped closer, carefully reaching for his hand. “I love you. And I would never do anything to hurt you.”

His fingers curled around yours, like he needed the reassurance. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for being an asshole.”

You sighed, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, you kinda were.”

He groaned, finally—finally—smiling just a little. “Are you ever gonna let me live this down?”

“Not a chance.”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. And just like that, the weight between you lifted.

[asxgard]

Companionship | pt. 11

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: A first date and a whole lot of sexual tension.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: Y’all really know how to make a girl feel special!! Thank you for all the likes, comments and reblogs!! You guys have been real troopers through the whole slowburn portion!! Now we move on to (mostly) better things for these lovebirds😌

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: age gap, jitters, anxiety, mild angst (it’s literally just who I am at this point lol), mild fluff, alcohol, talk of Adamson

not beta read

A complex flurry of emotions whirled around in his chest, thoughts exchanging between this is good and this is very bad. One wrong move and he could destroy it all, or he could actually make something real out of it.

It was equally thrilling and terrifying.

He remembered Dana’s eyes on his back as he left on time, skipping out right after giving report to Abbot, after avoiding her questions for over an hour. The curious eyebrow raise from Langdon as McKay had whispered something to him, or the way Princess hovered while you were still present. The way Jack so clearly looked like he wanted to say something, no doubt hearing something in passing from Dana, or the rumor mill buzzing through the hall.

They only got more obvious as the weekend got closer.

“You’ve been leaving consistently on-time recently, boss. Even Abbot noticed.” Dana said with a quirked brow and a knowing smile, “Have anything to do with that pretty girl in here earlier this week?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He lied smoothly, “What girl?”

Dana laughed. “The one you rolled right over McKay to help a few weeks ago? A simple stitch job and you took it. Must be special. Even got her back right away to get them taken out.”

Michael hummed, already knowing that Dana was likely seeing right through him. “Wasn’t Gloria just down here explaining satisfaction scores? You know, making sure each patient is seen and heard.”

“With just her?”

He tried to temper the blush, “Was it? Can’t remember everyone I’ve helped.” He glanced from his computer screen to the opening ambulance doors. “Oh, look at that. Gotta go!”

“Saved by the bell!” Dana called after him.

Langdon approached him later, bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands in his pockets. They had just stabilized a patient and were waiting for Garcia to come and consult.

Langdon blew out a puff of air, “So that woman was totally checking you out the other day.”

Barely sparing him a glance, Michael removed his gloves, “That so?”

“Totally!” Langdon told him eagerly, before flickering his eyes across his face, “There was something there.”

Michael hummed indifferently.

McKay piped up from the side, “Called her a VIP, if I remember right.”

It was hard to miss the way Perlah and Princess exchanged a glance.

“Come get me when Garcia gets here.” He said, departing from the trauma room looking for something to busy his hands — or just keep everyone from asking any more questions. The gossip was never likely to stop, but he hated being the center of it.

It seemed like things never stayed quiet long, since Dana found him sometime later, crossing her arms across her chest.

“VIP, huh?”

Michael let out a long sigh, glancing at the clock and hoping his shift would end already.

—

Michael asked to pick you up, and you accepted easily, pacing around your apartment in heels and the dress you had borrowed from Erin. You half wished you had been able to drive yourself, distract your mind with music or some random radio show, and the lull of Pittsburgh traffic.

He arrived a few minutes early, and knocked on your door, and your heart lurched into your throat. It took a few beats of your heart to steady yourself. It was only Michael.

But now feelings are known and there is no more hiding.

Perhaps that was a good thing.

When you opened the door, he was standing there with a bashful smile and flowers. Lavender, purple hyacinth, and baby’s-breath with green foliage holding it all together. You momentarily forgot to breathe, looking from the flowers in his hands then to his face, face lax with dumb disbelief — a thousand words swirling in your mind immediately going silent.

“You got me flowers.” You said, more so from shock rather than a statement of fact.

“I got you flowers.” He said, trying to gauge your reaction. “I wanted this to be proper, but I haven’t been on a date in forever—”

“They’re beautiful.” You breathed out, ignoring the storm in your chest. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

Surprise crossed his face momentarily. “That’s a shame. You definitely deserve them.”

A warmth rose to your cheeks, before moving to the side, “Come in. I’ll get a vase.”

Do I own a vase?

He stepped into the apartment, handing the flowers over, watching as the smile lit up your features. You inhaled the scent of them, closing your eyes to savor it. They smelled sweet, with the calming aroma from the lavender, and you sighed in contentment.

“You look beautiful.”

You stopped, looking at him, ignoring the way your ears grew hot, “Thank you. You look—”

Grey chinos with a light tan cardigan buttoned over a white shirt. His long, dark grey woolen coat was left unbuttoned, looking effortlessly in the area between elegant and casual. A carefree sophistication that even in Erin’s expensive dress you felt out of place. His beard was trimmed neatly, hair combed carefully, with a smile that clouded your thoughts.

“—really good.”

He blushed.

You moved into the kitchen while Michael stayed in the tiny foyer, hands in his pockets. You grabbed a pitcher to fill with water, unable to quickly find a vase. The water pitcher would do.

On the drive, you had such an urge to grab his hand. The sight of him with one hand on the wheel, the other loosely hanging off the bottom of it, a relaxation seeping from his posture, made your mind lurch into overdrive. You felt rigid beside him, thinking of a hundred thousand things, overthinking anything you could say — should say — that would have been commonplace for any normal first date.

But you already knew those things.

The silence was riddled with tension, thick and unchecked. The way his fingers flexed on the steering wheel, or lingered when he turned the volume up or down, eyes not-so-subtly looking over at you periodically. Each time it felt like he was stoking a fire low in your belly.

He opened his mouth to trade small talk until you arrived at the restaurant, and the low timbre of his voice cooled the anxiety in your chest and fanned the flames in your abdomen. You felt far too hot in your coat, buzzing with anticipation, with nerves, with wanting.

Peregrin was an elevated, classic, modernized eatery, that felt mildly out of place on the street corner — decorated in fairy lights, hues of blue and grey, and sharp, deliberate angles. It had overpriced appetizers and an overhyped atmosphere, but everything you had heard about the food had been good things.

Your table was ready when you walked in, a few minutes early for your reservation, and you absorbed the interior quickly. Refurbished dark wood floors, light cream walls, a brick wall accented on the far wall, copper fixtures and large windows overlooking the Allegheny River.

The waitress eyed you when she arrived to take the drink order, but was discreet in her assessment. The feeling of being criticized hit you like a freight-train. Once upon a time, you would have thought the same, questioned the girl's sanity or the man's intentions — but now you sat knowing both. As big of an age gap as it was should have given you more pause than it did, but you had already danced around the edge of it long enough. You had run far enough, and you were tired of allowing your own feelings coming second place to those around you.

You tuned it all out. You had to. You had to.

You smiled at him, “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Relief flooded his face, looking back at you. “I have too.”

You both knew you were not talking about the food.

“I hope work was not too chaotic this week?” You ventured, opening the menu.

He chuckled lightly, “Everyone’s been pestering me about the mysterious girl all week.”

Your face warmed, “Oh no, I didn’t cause too much of a stir, did I?”

“I think I created it myself,” he said, pulling out his glasses, “wasn’t exactly as subtle as I would have liked to be when you came in.”

You paused long enough, staring at him, for Michael to look up over his frames at you. Warmth pooled lower and you took a sip of your ice water to try to snuff it.

“Wasn’t my intention.” You said tightly, “Didn’t know that was the hospital you worked at.”

“I’m glad you did.” His lips dipped momentarily. “Not that you got hurt, but—”

“Yeah, me too.” You offered a smile, bringing your wild thoughts to heel.

He smiled, looking back at the menu, “How’re your classes going?”

“Good, actually. Still busy trying to stay on top of everything, but it’s good.”

He rubbed his hand along his beard, the light catching several of the greys, “You know, I’d like to say something…about that…without being too forward.”

You raised a careful eyebrow, your lungs stalling.

“I…still want to help you.” Michael said, brown eyes watching you intently before caving and looking back to the menu. “With school, your bills.”

“Michael—”

“I know, I know.” He said quickly, “No ulterior motives. You wouldn’t owe me anything. Just because I want to. Because I have more than the means to do so.”

You hoped the dim lighting did not give away the way you flustered. “That’s—I don’t think—I can’t accept that. It’s…not right. I don’t want to use you.”

“You wouldn’t be.” He assured, one side of his lips quirking up. “I’m offering.”

You frowned, “It just reminds me of what you said; that I wouldn’t be here unless you were paying me. I—that’s not what I want you to think. That’s not how I want to feel.”

Michael’s tiny smile disappeared, and he just stared at you, gears clearly turning over in his head. He opened his mouth, but the waitress returned to take your order, interrupting him. Scribbling down on her notepad completely unaware — or just unfazed — by the tension now collecting at the table.

When she departed, you were both silent.

You chewed your lip and avoided his eyes.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” He finally said, removing his glasses to rub his eyes. “I don’t feel that way about it. I know you would be here without it.”

“Are you sure? I feel like money will just complicate this again.” You met his gaze. “I don’t want to burden this with money, or insecurities, while we’re still figuring it out.”

Michael nodded in what you hoped was understanding. “You’re right, but it’s a standing offer. If you ever need it, it’s there.”

You let out a long breath, “Thank you.”

He sipped the white wine he had chosen for you both, glancing out the window at the sunset.

Part of you felt endeared that he still wanted to help out, but the money felt like an unnecessary weight to add to your shoulders. You did not want to hinder the relationship budding between you, or give him any reason to second guess your intentions.

“I’m glad we’re here.” Michael told you, offering a smile.

“I am too.” You grabbed your wine glass and raised it. “To second chances?”

He clinked his glass with yours and grinned.

—

When the food arrived, you were trading light banter. It felt easy, uncomplicated, despite the warm feelings invading your chest and working their way to your heart. You tried to take a breath, slow it all down, but they thrummed beneath the surface. He was polite, except the occasional way his eyes took you in — eyes lingering over the exposed bit of skin of your chest that the dress made obvious, wandering slowly back up to your eyes.

Those eyes were going to set you on fire.

You laughed, “That reminds me of when we were all on lockdown—”

Michael grew silent, a faraway look in his eyes, completely unaware of the rest of your sentence, or the way you stopped short.

“...you with me?” You asked softly, running your fingers along his hand until you were holding it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really realize how much the pandemic affected you.”

He blinked rapidly at you, before trying to shrug it off, clearing his throat. “It usually doesn’t.”

“I know it took its toll on the healthcare system, I wasn’t trying to make light of it.” You told him earnestly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I lost my mentor.” He said quietly, looking down at his food. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I had to make a choice, and it didn’t end up really mattering.”

You squeezed his hand. “I’m really sorry. Adamson? Tell me about him.”

Michael looked up at the sound of the name, momentarily surprised by you remembering it.

“He was a force. Reliable. Took me under his wing not long after my residency and showed me just about everything I know. He always knew what to say, a trait I wish I had.”

You nodded along.

“Great doctor, even better man.”

“I can see how much you admired him. How long since he passed?”

“Three years about two months ago.” He said.

“I’ve never met him, but I don’t think he would want you to carry it with you like this. You said last week that it was for a little girl, and I know she didn’t make it either, but I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to try. If he was as great a man as you say, I doubt he’d want you to feel guilty over it. If he showed you everything you know, then surely the decision you made would have been the same one he would have.”

The words hung heavy in the air — and Michael’s eyebrows scrunched together while he digested them. He squeezed your hand tightly and a tear slipped from his eye.

“...thank you.” It was quiet. It was raw. It was unmasked.

You brushed your thumb over his knuckles and smiled softly.

He wiped away the tear quickly and cleared his throat, “So you said school was almost done. Is this your last semester?”

“Yeah, just have to finish out my classes, and then I’ll be graduating in two months.”

“Damn, you’re almost done.”

You moved your hand from his back to your lap, twisting a bit of pasta onto your fork. “I try not to count down the days. But then I’ll have to get my certification, then I’ll finally be a CPA.”

His smile was easy, “Congratulations.”

“I haven’t graduated yet.” But your lips moved upwards anyway.

“You’ve put in a lot of hard work, you should be proud of yourself.”

Your cheeks burned, “Thank you.”

The check came, and you only tried to glance at it once before you reined the thoughts in. He grabbed your hand when you got up from the table, his touch equally holding you steady and sending your thoughts back into a whirlwind. Heat had your heart racing, thoughts without any pure intention slipping in and making you blush deeper.

You intertwined your fingers instead of saying anything.

In the car, the conversation continued easily, though Michael reached for your hand again and held it throughout the drive. It felt like pieces were slotting into place, and it felt good to not pretend. To allow yourself to feel the feeling coiling around your heart. To accept his attention, his intention, without feeling like there was anything hindering you.

When they arrived at your building, he got out to walk you up. You went to protest, but the warmth was back rolling around in your stomach and you closed her mouth. Instead, an excitement was building.

He spoke first when you reached your door, “I had a really good time tonight.”

“I did too.” You were grinning. “Thank you for our first official date.”

He smiled, dark brown eyes flickering to your lips and back to your eyes. Your breathing picked up to keep up with your racing heart, and you glanced at his mouth. When your eyes returned to his, he was already leaning in.

You accepted the kiss eagerly, curling one hand around the front of his coat, the other moving to his hair. He took the invitation, bringing a hand to your cheek and pulling you closer, pressing his other hand to the small of your back.

Something bloomed deep in your chest, and you savored the taste of him while you could. He pulled back before it delved any deeper, though he held you still against him.

“Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, Michael.”

There was a fear of being known, but you were both finally letting the light in.

[ Next ]

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Companionship taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @clementine111002 @virgomillie @emily-b @kaygilles @lt-jakeseresin @imonmykneessir @kniselle @gabsgabsvaz @rosiepoise88 @calivia @holdonimwalkingmysnail @valhallavalkyrie9 @blahkateisdone @shadowhuntyi @fuckalrighty @elli3williams @yournerdmodziata @i-know-i-can @dickheadturner @dcgoddess @pittobsessed @glamorizethechaos @blueb33ry-cat @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @burningpenguinwitch @evienorville @equallyshaw @heyysolsister @justrandomthougt @babygirlagenda

Dr. Robby taglist: @cherriready @seeyalaterinnovator @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @bxxbxy @18lkpeters @flyinglama @hagarsays @mayabbot @anakingreys @happyfox43 @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @girl-obsessed-with-things @laurenkate79 @woodxtock @rosie-posie08 @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse

(50 tags have been reached with the combo of all three taglists, so unfortunately The Pitt taglist for this series will be added in a reblog right after this is posted - I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience!)

most of the heavy angst is over — they still suck at feelings, but they’re learning😊

as we get closer to smut territory, I get more worried it won’t live up to y’all’s expectations lol (😭)

[l4ndoflove]

the winner takes it all

TW suicide attempt (sleeping pills overdose), social media hate, mental health struggles, depression (lmk if i missed anything)

feat. lando norris

lyrics when oscar wins in bahrain, lando loses everything: credibility, respect... and almost his life, too

maddie i'm tired of people hating on lando for literally no reason, so i wrote about it

2045 words

The race had gone… good. Not great, but not necessarily bad either.

Sure, receiving a five-second penalty for overshooting his grid box at the start wasn’t exactly optimal, but Lando had still managed to get a podium, going from P6 to P3. And you really thought—you hoped—that would be enough for him.

But the moment you saw him stepping up there, you knew it wasn’t.

He did everything right, as if it was all part of a routine he’d learned to perform like some kind of circus monkey: wave, clap, smile. Repeat. He took his trophy, listened to the anthem, sprayed the champagne—turning his back to Oscar and going straight for Andrea.

Rookie mistake.

The media noticed. Of course they did. Had they ever missed anything when it came to Lando, after all?

Within minutes, the clip of him “ignoring” his teammate had gone viral, and suddenly, it was Hungary 2024 all over again. The usual criticism was quick to follow:

he is a good driver but actually so incredibly immature

grow up Lando, you win some and lose some

Piastri making strides 💪 Lando going backwards

It always ended up with people spitting venom at him at every given opportunity—even for something as stupid as this—so you didn’t give it much thought, praying that Lando would do the same.

When you scrolled down your Instagram page, however, your heart clenched at the sight of his post-race interview, already trending on every F1-related account. He was clearly disappointed with the result, the car… himself.

You opened the comments, expecting to find, if not sympathy, at least some basic human decency.

But you should’ve known better.

yes lando you aren’t good enought

This guy is not a world champion 😂😂

If you can’t handle your emotions, you’re not strong enough. Thats why he never wins a worldtitle

During his rookie days I’d have some sympathy but now he just looks like a whiney child

He will be 2nd driver soon

Tears clouded your vision as you clutched the phone so hard you thought it might break.

You wished it did.

Maybe that would’ve finally erased the cruelty, the hate, the insults people apparently liked to throw at a 25-year-old boy who was already carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—a world that was ready to jump at his throat the moment he slipped up.

You needed to find him before something like that could happen again. So you ran.

The cooldown room was still buzzing with electricity when you stormed in, the kind that lingers only after champagne-soaked celebrations and loud smiles. Your eyes searched every corner of it, looking for a curly head they didn’t find, landing on Oscar instead, drenched from head to toe and radiating happiness while he chatted with Zak.

“Hey,” he smiled warmly as soon as he spotted you, his expression shifting immediately when he noticed how tense yours was. “Something wrong?”

“Lando?” It wasn’t an answer, but you hoped Oscar would catch on either way.

You didn’t like how he frowned in confusion instead.

“He told me he was going back to the hotel with you,” he explained, brows furrowed.

Your stomach dropped, color draining from your face.

Panic.

The second he saw your reaction, it clicked in his head, too. “Wait, why would he…”

You didn’t let him finish—just turned around and left, sprinting out of the paddock like your life depended on it.

Because, even if yours didn’t, Lando’s might.

And you knew what Oscar was about to say. It was the same question that gnawed at you as you ran one red light after the other, your mind going faster than your car ever could.

Why would he lie about where he is?

The silence hit you like a slap in the face when you finally entered the hotel room.

Not welcoming. Not peaceful.

Empty.

Like something was missing.

There was no background music playing in the kitchen, no faint chattering coming from the TV you usually left on, no white noise of any sort… just eerie, deafening silence.

But your boyfriend didn’t do silence.

He hated it.

“Lando?” Your voice echoed off the walls. Too loud. Too scared. “Baby, it’s me.”

Still nothing.

You paced around the apartment like a ghost, looking for any sign of his presence in the shadows that crowded the place.

It was the bathroom light, bleeding through the darkness from beneath a half-open door, that ended up catching your attention. You reached for it like a moth to a flame, gaze dropping to the floor as soon as you found yourself in the doorway.

Your knees followed it.

He was there. Slumped against the wall, his head lolling sideways, fingers wrapped loosely around a bottle of sleeping pills.

When you took it from his hand to check it, there were only a few of them left.

You almost threw up.

“Lando. No, no, no, shit–Lando, wake up. Baby, please, wake up, don’t do this to me–” Tears streamed down your cheeks, his name falling out of your mouth like a plea as you gently cupped his jaw with your palms.

His eyelids fluttered open at the sound of your voice. Slow. Heavy. As if something so simple had suddenly become incredibly painful.

“That’s it, baby. Just keep your eyes open for me, okay? Stay awake, I’m here. I’m here.” You kept repeating that last sentence like a mantra, running one of your hands through his curls while you rushed to dial the emergency number with the other, your fingers shaking so much you only got it right on the third try.

You didn’t give the operator on the other end a chance to speak when they finally picked up, a river of disconnected sentences flowing out of your mouth—he’s barely conscious, he took some pills, I don’t know how many, please hurry up.

Then, just as you were about to hang up, his lips parted, a whisper so low you could’ve imagined it pushing past them.

“I fucked up.”

Yes, you fucked up, you wanted to scream, but the relief of finally hearing his voice, of knowing he could still breathe, only brought more tears to your eyes.

“You’re okay.” Lie. “You’re okay, and that’s all that matters. You hear me? Just–” you choked on your words. “Just stay with me, please.”

“M’tired.” His voice was hoarse, scraping his throat like he’d been screaming for hours. Maybe he had.

“I know, baby, I know,” you sobbed, pressing your forehead against his—raw, desperate, alive. “But hold on a little longer. Just a little, okay? Shit, Lan, I’m sorry....”

I’m sorry I didn’t see it coming.

The next few hours were a blur.

Red and blue lights. White gowns.

You refused to let go of Lando’s hand while the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance, holding it even tighter when they put needles into his arms and ran fluids through his veins, your fingers linked to his like a lifeline.

For him or yourself, you didn’t know anymore.

They told you he was lucky. That if you hadn’t found him and acted so quickly, he could’ve–

You didn’t want to think about it.

Which was hard when the only thing you could see was how frail your boyfriend looked on that bed, his skin as pale as the blanket he was tucked under, small and helpless like a child.

You didn’t leave his side for a second, caressing his face with the same gentleness and care of a mother while you lulled him softly—allowing yourself to pretend.

Pretend he’d just gone back to sleep after a bad dream.

Pretend he wasn’t surrounded by machines that lived for him after he stopped trying to.

Pretend you didn’t almost give up, too, when you saw him limp on the bathroom floor back at the hotel.

It was 3 a.m. when he finally gave the first signs of life.

A beep on the monitor. A sharp, weak inhale as he stirred.

He blinked.

“You’re awake,” you choked out a laugh, relief washing over you as you took his hand between your trembling ones and planted a kiss on his knuckles.

His skin beneath your lips felt warm, familiar.

The chuckle that left his, not so much.

“You’re surprised.”

Bitterness. Guilt. Shame.

You froze and glanced up at him, a chill running down your spine at the insinuation hidden behind his words.

He didn’t meet your gaze.

“Lando.”

He flinched, staring at the ceiling like he couldn’t stand the idea of seeing the reflection of his mistake on your face if he turned toward you instead.

As if it was easier to ignore you rather than acknowledge your concern.

“Lando, look at me. Please.”

You heard it before you saw it: his breath hitching when you begged him. Begged him to let you in, to show you the demons he’d been carrying alone for too long—so long that they’d almost taken over him.

Then, a single tear ran down his cheek.

And another.

And another.

Until he couldn’t stop them anymore, and they just kept spilling from his eyes, each one heavier than the one before.

Without a second thought, you crawled into bed beside him, letting him bury his face in the crook of your neck as you muttered sweet nothings against his temple, fighting to hold yourself together and be strong for the both of you.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, violent sobs racking his chest. Your hands drew soothing paths down his back, and you wished that could be enough to stop his shoulders from shaking like there was an earthquake wrecking him from the inside.

“For what, baby?” you asked, voice laced with the kind of sadness that only witnessing the person you love trying to self-destroy himself could bring.

“For... being like this. I hate it. I fucking hate it. And I don’t–” he gasped, out of breath. “–shit, I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Because you don’t have to. There’s nothing to fix, Lan. I know people expect you to, but you’re not a robot. You’re a human being, and you’re allowed to break. Okay?”

“It hurts,” he sniffled, though you could feel the tension starting to leave his body under your touch.

He lay there for what felt like hours, curled into your side like a baby while you held him close to your heart, hoping he’d hear how fast it beat and realized that it only ached for him.

The first rays of light filtered through the small hospital window when Lando’s breathing finally slowed down, matching your own.

You almost thought he'd fallen asleep—peaceful, at last—but then you felt him shift against you, his brown locks tickling your throat when he pulled back slightly to look up at you.

His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed, eyelashes sticking together, wet with tears, but still undeniably, utterly him.

“I didn’t want to die,” he whispered, realization dawning on him as soon as those words left him mouth.

You didn’t miss the flicker of fear in his gaze, either: it terrified him thinking about how close he’d been to ending it all—when he actually didn’t want to.

“I was just... tired, I guess.” He sighed deeply, almost to prove his point. He really did look exhausted. “And they were getting too loud.”

“Who? People online? You know I always tell you not to worry about what they sa–”

“The voices in my head.”

The way he said it, as if that was something he’d learned to live with the hard way, was like a punch to the gut.

“Then you scream louder. And I’ll scream with you until the only voices you can hear are yours and mine. Because it’s you who should have the power to silence them, not the other way around. Understood?”

He nodded, weak but trustful, his wide eyes a sea of blue and green as you stared into them.

“I love you,” you added, gently brushing your lips against his forehead. “Even when you think nobody does.”

“Promise?” he croaked, voice breaking as he nuzzled closer into the comforting heat of your chest.

“Promise.”

© 2025 l4ndoflove. all rights reserved.

[simpurnatural]

"Flustered" || Short-Fic

XO, Kitty - Min Ho Moon x Fem!Reader

Note from Nat: "Back to back Min Ho fics??? Didn't expect to get so much positive feedback. Thanks for going easy on ya girl, I'm still a bit rusty! Enjoy and make sure to wipe that drool off your face babe!"

Warning(s): Spoilers for "XO, Kitty" seasons 1 & 2, A little bit of Smut, Language, Sorta Proofread

As the fall semester came to an end, with everyone not wanting to part ways even for a just a month, Min Ho decides to invite the entire friend group for a winter getaway.

“Where’s Y/n?” Asked Dae which made everyone’s heads turn before the sound of snow crunching was heard.

You approached the group that was currently enjoying the hot tub, arms crossed to keep your robe shut. Min Ho suggested that the hot tub would be best way to relax after a day of travelling

“Hi! Sorry I’m late to the party,” you smiled whilst kicking off your slippers, then sliding your robe off your shoulders.

“Hot damn girl,” Q said, overcame with astonishment. "Drop the workout routine asap please," he joked as everyone's eyes lingered on your figure.

“Oh stop it,” you laughed and rolled your eyes. “This old thing isn’t worth the hype,” you insisted, but everyone would’ve begged to differ.

The navy blue two piece you were sporting hugged all the right places. Your ass and tits looked like they needed saving. The sight was definitely giving body tea.

Everyone watched as you made your descent into the tub and sat in between Kitty and Min Ho. Kitty had given you a small wave whereas Min Ho could barely make eye contact. Various conversations continued but Min Ho remained in an unlike-him-silence.

He wondered how he had not noticed how hot you looked until now. Not saying that looks are everything, but Min Ho felt stuck on how he never gave you a second glance.

"-Right Min Ho?" Dae asks, turning to his best friend who was clearly zoning out.

"Sorry what?" Min Ho replied, snapping out of his trance.

"We're gonna be able to go skiing first thing tomorrow, right?" Dae reiterated, a slight tiredness in his voice due to Min Ho's lack of contribution to the conversation.

"Of course," Min Ho nodded before his gaze back on you, who was too busy chatting with Yuri and Kitty to realizing anything else.

"Woah okay, this is new," Q teased, as his eyes followed Min Ho's. "The bikini has got your eyes lurkin'" he says, making Jin snicker at the observation.

"What are you guys talking about?" you ask with an unaware smile on your lips, Min Ho's eyes instantly looking down.

"Min Ho here seems to have-" Q began.

"Shut it," Min Ho tsked before moving to leave the hot tub.

"Hey, we were just joking," Jin called out as Min Ho shuffled back into the house.

"What was that about?" Yuri questioned, all conversations now put on pause.

"Is Min Ho okay?" Kitty asked, looking to the other boys occupying the hot tub.

"He's just a little flustered," Dae replied, the feeling of worry instantly overcame you.

"Did I do something?" you say wide-eyed but to no response. "I'll go check on him," you say before making your way out of the tub and walking towards the house. "Min Ho?" your voice echoed throughout the home.

You noticed a light coming from inside the kitchen and chose to investigate. There stood Min Ho, chugging a bottle of water with his slim yet toned physique being illuminated by the refrigerator light. He began to cough up said water after realizing your presence.

"Bloody hell, you scared me," he coughed, covering his face with the inside of his elbow. "What is it Y/n?" he asks while shutting the fridge door.

"What's with you?" you quizzed, "Ever since I joined you guys outside, you've been quiet and when I tried to converse with you-you run back inside!" you add with a hint of frustration in your voice.

"It's not my fault-"

"-So it's mine? What did I do wrong?" you cut off, urgently wanting an answer as to why your friend was avoiding you.

"Y/n, it's because y-you literally look like t-that!" Min Ho exclaimed as if it were common knowledge. "How else is a guy supposed to act when you decide walk around wearing something like that?" he questioned.

"Is what I have on not okay? Was there something in my hair?" you blabbered in response, instantly being overcame with the self-conscious feeling.

"It's fact that when I saw you earlier, I wish you didn't have anything on" Min Ho muttered in an almost whisper like volume.

The realization finally hit you, Min Ho had been eyeing you since you stepped into the hot tub. You face flushed a bright red, clearly flattered by the words that just came out of his mouth.

"So what you're saying is-"

"What I'm saying is that you look almost too good," Min Ho said, his voice deep and eyes darkened like a lion about to pounce on his next prey.

The small distance between the two of you shut in almost an instant, his hand cupped the side of your face gently. You could've sworn that the beat of your heart could be heard from miles away.

Your lack of response gave Min Ho time to lift you up and place you on the kitchen counter. Accidentally, you let out a small whimper at the feeling of the cold tile touching your skin. Min Ho felt as if he could've finished off that noise alone.

Standing between your legs, Min Ho's hands traveled all the way back down to your ass. You watched his eyes really take in your body, as if he could drink you up like a glass of water.

"Tell me to stop, and I will" Min Ho whispered as he gave your plump skin a squeeze.

Leaning in with your lips close to his ear, finally you replied, "I don't think I want you to stop".

Min Ho took this as his green light and you felt as his hands unclasped your bikini top. Grabbing the piece of clothing, he tossed away fand his eyes settled on your breast.

Biting his lip, Min Ho took one of each into his hands. "Beautiful. You are so beautiful Y/n," he said with is his accent thick, almost like he was about to melt at the sight of you.

You gasped at the feeling of his breath on your tits, causing a domino effect of butterflies and goosebumps to cover you. Min Ho chuckled at this, rubbing your nipples with his thumb in a circular motion.

Eyes closed; you threw your head back at the sensation before feeling something foreign come in contact with your breast. Min Ho's tongue began exploring your chest. It was as if he was trying to paint a picture.

His grasp on your tits became slightly more secure as he was egged on by your moans. He was marking his territory all over you with bright red hickeys.

Your half assed attempt to stifle your moans was with the palm of your hand. Min Ho however loved how loud you were getting for him and yanked your hand away from your face.

"I want to hear you," he insisted, pulling his lips away from your chest for a mere moment. "I want to hear you all night," he smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

"Uh guys?" a voiced that belonged to Yuri called out. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice trailing off into the hallway probably in search of you both.

Min Ho looked down with a smile on his face before getting your swim top from the ground. You quickly put it back on then pulled your hair to the front to cover the marks Min Ho left behind.

"W-we're here Yuri!" you replied hopping off the counter and walking out of the kitchen with Min Ho right behind you.

As Yuri came walking back towards you guys, her head tilted to the side in confusion, "What were you guys doing over there in the dark?"

"Just got some water," Min Ho replied, which seemingly convinced Yuri enough for her to walk back outside. "I'm not done with you yet," he whispered in your ear, giving your ass a slap.

JAN 2025

[dearlenore]

Do you write smut? Or if not, lots of fluffy romance. I need a Tim Bradford x reader when Tim is thinking reader is cheating because she keeps staying out late but turns out she's been going to art classes because she wants to learn how to paint him

Hey love! Thanks the the request as always, I don’t write smut at the moment, don’t know if I ever will but I’m obsessed with the fluffy idea you gave me🥹❤️ so I for sure wrote that!!

CAUGHT RED HANDED • T.BRADFORD

SUMMARY: when you begin sneaking around secretly to receive painting lessons to paint your perfect boyfriend, he can’t help but grow suspicious…

PAIRING: fem!reader x tim bradford

tags: reader is a housewife, cheating suspicion, insecure bradford, fluff cutesy stuff

a/n: the grind never ends.

w/c: 1.2K

TIM BRADFORD WASN’T the jealous type. He prided himself on that. Years of being a cop, years of working in high-stakes situations where trust meant everything, had hardened him to unnecessary doubts. But this—this gnawing, irritating feeling in the pit of his stomach—was new. And he hated it.

He sat in his truck outside the café, watching through the windshield as you stood inside, laughing—glowing, really—while talking to someone he didn’t recognize. Some guy. Some guy he’d never seen before, who was clearly making you smile in the way that made his heart ache violently.

For the past few weeks, you’d been different. More secretive. Slipping out of bed early in the morning without a goodbye, Taking phone calls in hushed tones. Canceling date nights last minute with vague excuses. And now, this? Meeting up with someone behind his back? A man?

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, feeling his knuckles go white at the intensity of his grip. He was probably overreacting. You weren’t the type to cheat. You loved him—God, he knew that. You were the sunshine to his storm, the one person who could make even his worst days bearable. He trusted you.

And yet…

He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his jaw before forcing himself to look away. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t some paranoid boyfriend stalking his girlfriend like a jealous idiot. He just needed answers. A conversation. That’s all. For all he knew , that could be your distant cousin!

So that’s what he told himself when you walked through the front door that night, smiling like nothing was wrong. Like you hadn’t just been somewhere he didn’t know, with someone he didn’t know.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted, dropping your bag by the couch before walking over to press a kiss to his cheek. “How was work?” You smiled warmly.

“Fine,” he said, barely managing to keep his voice steady. His eyes searched your face, looking for something—guilt, hesitation, anything—but all he found was warmth. That same sunshine that had pulled him in from the very start.

You hummed, running your hands up his arms, completely oblivious to the war raging inside him. “You’re tense. Long day?”

“Something like that,” he muttered, gently holding your waist. A beat passed, then—because he couldn’t help himself—he added, “Where were you?”

You blinked up at him, not surprised by maybe taken off guard. “What?”

“Tonight. You had plans.”

“Oh! Yeah, I—” You hesitated, just for a second, before forcing a bright smile. “Just out.” You laughed, shaking your head dismissively.

Just out.

Tim clenched his jaw, nodding slowly. “Right.”

That should’ve been the end of it. He should’ve let it go, let the doubt slip away like every other pointless worry. But instead, all he could hear was the way your voice wavered, just a little. The way you didn’t quite meet his eyes when you said it.

For the first time in his life, Tim Bradford didn’t know if he wanted to know the truth.

And so, for days, the tension had been building between you two. He wasn’t sure if you noticed it—if you felt the way he was pulling back, the way his usual warmth had been replaced with something quieter, something watchful. But how could you not? He wasn’t the type to pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t. And right now? Right now, nothing felt fine.

So tonight, he decided, was the night. No more wondering. No more doubts eating away at him. He was going to ask you outright.

When he got home, you were already there, curled up on the couch with your sketchbook in your lap. Your face lit up when you saw him, the same way it always did, and it made his chest ache.

“Hey, you’re home early!” you said, setting the sketchbook aside. “I was just about to—”

“Who is he?”

The words were out before he could stop them, blunt and heavy in the air between you.

You blinked, the smile slipping from your face. “What?”

Tim crossed the room, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for the truth. “The guy at the café. The one you’ve been sneaking off to see.”

Your mouth parted slightly, and for the first time in all the years he’d known you, you looked… nervous. Not guilty, but nervous.

“Tim…” you said softly, sitting up straighter. “It’s not what you think.” You bit back a smile, you knew he was stressed but something about the way he looked at you like Kojo when his bowl was taken away was too damn cute.

“Then tell me what it is,” he said, voice low, controlled. “Because for the past few weeks, you’ve been different. You leave early, you take calls in private, you cancel our plans last minute. And then I see you with some guy—” He let out a breath, shaking his head. “I trust you, but you’re not giving me much to work with here.”

You swallowed hard, pressing your lips together as you dropped your gaze. Your fingers twisted together in your lap, a telltale sign that you were nervous. And that only made his stomach tighten more.

“Come with me,” you said suddenly, standing up, not trying to hide your smile now.

Tim’s brows furrowed in confusion at your smile, but he followed as you led him down the hall to the spare room—the one you always kept locked. The one he had never questioned until now.

You hesitated for a second before pushing the door open, revealing a room filled with art supplies. Paint tubes scattered across a small desk, canvases stacked against the walls, brushes in jars—everywhere he looked, there were signs of creativity, of hours spent in quiet dedication.

And then, in the center of the room, stood a large canvas, half-covered with a cloth.

You walked over, fingers gripping the edge of the cloth tightly before glancing at him. “I was going to wait until it was finished, but…” You took a deep breath, then pulled the cloth away.

Tim stared.

It was him.

The painting—your painting—was of him. But not just any version of him. This was him as you saw him, not as a cop, not as a hardened, disciplined man, but as yours. The warm glow of sunlight painted across his face, the small crease between his brows that only appeared when he was deep in thought, the way his lips barely quirked at the corners, like he was on the edge of a smile. It was detailed, painfully detailed, and so full of love that it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

“I’ve been taking classes,” you said quietly. “I didn’t want to tell you until I got better, but I—I wanted to learn how to paint you. The way I see you.” You let out a nervous laugh, hugging yourself. “I asked my instructor for help, and that’s who you saw. The guy at the café. Who is very… very homosexual might I add.”

Tim didn’t speak. He couldn’t. His throat was too tight, his chest too full of something he couldn’t name.

You mistook his silence for something else.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you rushed out. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be shady, I just—I wanted it to be a surprise. I didn’t think— I know it’s not the best but it’s … it’s you..? I think—“ you laughed nervously, looking between the painting and him.

Before you could finish, he crossed the space between you in two long strides and pulled you into his arms. You gasped, hands gripping his shirt as he buried his face in your hair, holding you tighter than he had in weeks.

“Tim?” you murmured.

“I’m an idiot,” he muttered, voice rough with emotion.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, brows furrowed. “You’re not—”

“I thought—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head at himself. “I thought you were pulling away. I thought I was losing you.”

Your expression softened instantly. “Baby…” You cupped his face, your thumb tracing over his jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

Tim let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours. “I should’ve just asked you. I should’ve trusted you.”

You smiled, tilting your head slightly. “Well, technically, you did ask me. Just, y’know, after stalking me to a café and jumping to conclusions.” You teased, faking a hurt expression.

His lips twitched. “I didn’t stalk you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sat in your truck and glared through the window, didn’t you?”

Tim groaned, closing his eyes. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of love, before wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re an adorable idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed, squeezing your waist. “Laugh at grumpy cop, get it out now.” He chuckled. “So… you really spent weeks learning how to paint me?”

You beamed, nodding. “I wanted to capture you like a French girl,” you mused dramatically, holding out your hand to show off nothing in particular.

Despite the over usage of that joke in your relationship , something inside him melted at that. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve you, but whatever it was, he wasn’t letting go.

Tim glanced at the painting again, then smirked. “So, when do I get to take it home?”

You gasped, playfully smacking his chest. “Excuse you, it’s not done.”

“Looks done to me.”

“Timothy Bradford, I swear—”

He cut you off with a kiss, one that was filled with every unspoken word, every ounce of love he had for you. And in that moment, with your laughter still lingering in the air and the painting standing as proof of how deeply you saw him, Tim knew one thing for sure:

He had never been so stupidly, hopelessly in love.

[luvyeni]

ALL FOR YOU 𝕼. ( 이민형 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이민형 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. idol!mark x idol!reader, unprotected sex , oral ( f ) , little bit of jealousy word count. 2.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … you knew mark and you would eventually cross paths; being in the same company and all — but this , this was stressing you out.

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this one i like , so good job to me …

you knew mark and you would eventually cross paths; being in the same company and all — but this , this was stressing you out…

“okay yn since you’re the youngest; you can pair up with jisung since he’s also the youngest.” you and the tall boy exchanged small awkward smiles. “aren’t they so cute together?” you heard yuna whisper to mark; you boy next to you clearly heard because he started to turn a deep shade of red — not cause he liked you, but because knew you were with mark.

you and mark met when you were still a trainee under sm. you’d accidentally walked into the wrong practice room, mark so happened to be in there… to say you were embarrassed was an understatement. he found it cute and endearing, watching you scramble to find the right words — but all you could manage was a small squeak.

from that day on; he tried to seek you out, finding you in the practice room, pretending to be confused. looking for you in the cafeteria where you sat with the other trainees and future group mates. he never said anything, no, he didn’t want to get you in trouble; but that didn’t stop him from looking; and falling for what he saw.

he knew what he was getting himself into when he asked you out; he was not only asking someone younger than him, but his junior at that — he was asking for trouble, but he couldn’t help it. he liked you so much and you liked him.

your debut was announced about a month after you and mark began to secretly date, he was so excited for you; that was also the first time you two had sex and it was mind blowing.

you both didn’t want anyone to found out about your relationship; but unfortunately haechan has the code to mark’s apartment and loves to show up announced sometimes — and after a awkward first meeting with haechan and you, and mark pinning him down to the floor to get him shut his mouth; he promised not to tell staff… but that didn’t stop him from telling the other dreamies.

you decided to not tell your members at all — which you are currently regretting. “mark is kinda cute don’t you think?” yuna sat next to you as you sat down for a quick break. “huh?” you said. “and he so obviously wants me, you see how low his hands went.” you followed her gaze to your boyfriend who was talking to your manager. “he wants me for sure, should i ask for his number?”

you were stunned; how do you answer that question? “um i don’t think that’s a good idea , we really aren’t supposed to be dating.” you said , how ironic. “besides he’s probably already in a relationship.” you said , hoping she’d drop it, the jealousy starting to boil inside your stomach. “so innocent yn , of course he doesn’t a guy as fine as he is , he’s probably fucking all around world he has no time to have a girl waiting for him.” she stood up ; walking away leaving you with a heavy heart and green with jealousy. “i have to use the bathroom.” you got up. “hurry back, we have to practice , this collab has to be perfect.” yuna said , nodded walking out the room.

more like slamming the door behind you in marks eyes. “what’s wrong with her?” haechan asked. “did you two fight?” the elder shook his head; in fact he just talked to you before you guys met up and you seemed excited to be working with him and his group. “her and member seemed to be having a conversation before she stormed out , maybe they’re having a argument.” jaemin said. “should i go after her?” mark asked; normally he wouldn’t ask a question like that, he’d just go, but there were a bunch of staff and cameras around he didn’t want anyone catching on. “duh , go.” chenle said. “we’ll make sure no one finds out anything.”

he nodded , standing up walking out the door. “hey mark.” yuna batted her eyelashes at the boy. “hi.” was all he said before leaving out to find you.

why were you even mad? you could’ve told her and ended it there. you just didn’t want to jeopardize your careers and ruin your groups reputation, you were still in your early parts of your career. “get it together, you’re a professional.” you said to yourself before walking out of the bathroom , only to be pushed back in.

“mark what the hell?” you shrieked. “did anyone see you?” you questioned. “what’s wrong?” mark said , looking into your eyes; his filled with worry. “nothing im fine.” you tried to walk out but he grabbed your wrist. “mark.” you frowned. “tell me what’s wrong , the way you slammed that door.” he said. “did you and your member have a fight?” he asked. “no.” you trailed off. “then what is it?”

“its stupid.” you whispered , eyes to the floor. “hey.” he grabbed your chin, lifting your head up. “nothing you feel is stupid to me.” his hand covered your cheek, caressing it softly. “so tell me what’s wrong baby.” you sighed before speaking up. “it’s yuna , she likes you.” you said. “she wants to ask for your number.”

he didn’t want to laugh, but the cute pout on your lips as you spoke, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “are you laughing at me?” you asked. “i told you it was stupid , let me go.” you pulled away from him , but he grabbed you , pulling you close to wrap his arms around you. “you’re just too cute baby , so jealous and so cute.” he said. “it’s not funny , i told her you probably have a girlfriend and you know what she said.” he smiled listening to you ramble. “she said there’s no way a guy as fine as you are isn’t fucking all around the world.”

“she said that?” he said; of course that wasn’t true. “yeah , can you believe it.” you said. “and i guess she wants to be next.” you pouted, slapping his arm. “don’t say it like it could be a possibility mark.” he winced , rubbing the spot. “baby you know it’s not a possibility, not even a 0.01% chance i would do that,” he said. “you sure?” he giggled, kissing your pouty lips. “100%.” you smiled. “now stop pouting and let’s get back to the practice room before they start to question our whereabouts.”

“wanna stay here with you.” you said , he smiled. “come over tonight , and you’ll have me all to yourself yeah?” he had you pinned against the sink. “you’d like that?” you bit your lip nodding. “yeah.” he was about to pull you into a kiss — when you both got a ping on your phones. he groaned , pulling away from you. “we have to go.” you said. “why now when im so hard,” he said. “just 5 more minutes.” your phones going off again. “i don’t think we can.” you said. “let’s go before they send a search party.”

you made your return first; coming up with a excuse to tell your leader; luckily she didn’t question it. “just get in line and get ready.” you nodded , standing next to jisung. “happy now?” he smirked , you rolled your eyes , pushing him. “look who’s back.” mark made his way back inside the room. “there were people at the vending machine,” he said. “at the vending machines and yet not a single snack or anything.” haechan said. “i ate it on the way back.” he gritted through his teeth , silently threatening the boy. “okay , okay let’s get back to practice.” the choreographer said ; mark giving you a quick glance and a wink making you smile as the music started.

“good job everybody.” the choreographer said; mark watched you begin to pack up. “here.” someone shoved a piece of paper in his face. “uh.” he looked up, yuna staring him in the face. “it’s my number.” she said. “oh , i don’t think — yuna lets go.” your leader called out for the girl. “here.” she dropped it in his hand making her way out ; you watched the whole thing. “yn.” he called out. “bye.” you gave him a tight lipped smile as you made your way out. “she’s jealous.” jeno said. “yeah no shit.” he tossed the paper in the trash.

“baby please talk to me.” you sat on his bed later that night , arms folded stubbornly against your chest. “you know what she did as soon as we got back to the dorms?” you said. “she went on and on how you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her boobs , how you were definitely into her and you taking her number solidified that.” you spat out , he laid against the headboard , his hand coming up to your thigh. “baby i told you i wasn’t , i threw the number away.” he whined. “and i wasn’t looking at her boobs , i was looking past her , looking at your boobs.”

“now isn’t the time for jokes mark.” you said flatly , trying to hold back a smile. “but it got you to smile.” he pulled you back against a smile. “mark.” he kissed behind your ear. “i don’t want anyone else but you.” he whispered, knowing what it did to you. “you’re so cute when you’re jealous , huffing and puffing.” he said , hands traveling down to your side. “makes me so hard.” he turned your head around, pulling you into a heated kiss.

he slipped his tongue inside your mouth , both of you moaning into the kiss , he flipped you over so he was on top. “so fucking pretty.” he dipped inside your neck. “you don’t know what you do to me , how much i wanted to pull you away from jisung.” he groaned. “his hands were too low on you.” he growled. “se-seems like you were jealous too.” you whimpered , he bit down on your neck. “fuck mark don’t leave any marks.” he licked the spot on your neck. “fuck of course i was jealous baby , i wanted to dance with you , not her.” he gripped your waist tightly. “all i could think about is you while dancing.”

he kissed down the valley of your breast. “the way you looked.” *kiss* “the way you talked.” *kiss* “the way you smelled.” he gave you one final kiss. “fuck and the way you taste.” he pulled your leggings down your legs , spreading them open. “ma-mark i need you.” you desperately mewled. “yeah?” he smirked. “need me to lick your pretty pussy.” he kissed your clothed cunt. “mhm pl-please.” he pulled your panties to the side; his cock twitching in his sweats. “look how wet you are.” he groaned. “all this for me baby?” you nodded , he gave your clit another kiss. “mhm fuck , you taste so good.” he dove into your heat , passionately licking your folds. “ma-mark , fuck that feels good.”

he hummed against your heat , holding your legs apart as he feverishly licked your folds. “fuck , fuck keep going.” your hand tangled up into his hair as your hips bucked up involuntarily. “fuck mark im gonna cum.” he replaced his mouth with his fingers , pushed two inside. “you’re so wet , gonna cum for me?” you nodded , the knot in your belly getting tighter. “cum for me then , be a good girl and cum for me.” you gasped out , the knot finally snapping as you came all over her fingers. “good fucking girl.” his voice filled with lust. “made such a mess on my fingers.”

he pushed his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. “so sweet.” he said. “like fucking candy baby.” he untied the string to his sweats , pulling them down just enough to free his fully erected cock. “look how hard i am for you.” he pressed his tip against your hole. “only get like this for you.” he slowly slid inside you. “fuck mark , so-so big.” you moaned , he grunted. “sh-shit baby you’re so tight.” his cock slowly filling you up , his cock kissing your cervix. “love this pussy so much.”

he pulled out , stopping at the tip; pushing himself all the way in. “so so much.” he groaned. “mark faster.” you moaned. “faster?” he said , speeding up. “yes like that.” your fingers running through his hair. “no need to be jealous baby , it’s all for you.” he groaned. “all mines.” he groaned as you tugged at his hair. “it’s yours.” he whispered in your ear. “so take what’s yours baby.”

he pulled out of you; laying back letting you climb into his lap. “ride me baby , ride your cock.” he groaned as you held the base of his cock , sinking down on him. “fuck mark.” he watched in awe as you rode him; bouncing up and down on his length. “fuck that feels good princess , ride me , ride it like you own me.” he held your waist as you worked his cock. “fuck baby im about to cum.” he moaned out. “no-not yet , almost there.” you stuttered , legs faltering. “fuck , fuck mark im about to cum.”

he held your hips , bucking up into your needy cunt. “fuck baby cum.” he groaned. “cum.” both of you moaning out as you came at the same time , your head dropping in between his neck. “b-baby don’t leave any marks , my manager will kill me.” he sighed , loving the feeling on his lips … okay maybe he can’t take the scolding.

“what were you thinking , the makeup artist is gonna kill you if that isn’t gone by the performance.” you heard his manager scolding him as your group walked into the practice room. “next time at least put it somewhere no one can see.” the older man shook his head in disappointment. “so irresponsible.” you chuckled , covering your smile. he looked at you frowning. “guess he had too good of a time last night.” your other member said. “guess yuna was wrong.” you looked at yuna who looked upset upon seeing the mark on his neck. “let’s just get this over with.” she said stomping away; your other member was chuckling. “don’t worry she’ll get over it , if not oh well.” she said. “and don’t you laughed too much.” she turned to you. “what are you talking about?”

she rolled her eyes. “you think im dumb , if you aren’t careful you’ll be getting a scolding just like he is.” she said. “at least he’s smart enough to put it somewhere no one can see.” she walked away leaving you stunned; mark looking at you curiously. “what?” he mouthed , you pointed to your member. “she knows.” you mouthed back, he shrugged. “tell them all.”

guess it’s time to tell your members the truth.

©️LUVYENI