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sluttylittlewaistenthusiast · 4 months

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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@gutsby

⭒ Wedded Bliss

The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

@samthemarvelfan

⭒ Bad Romance

In Brooklyn, everyone knows the unwritten rule: you don’t cross James Barnes. When you return after nearly half a decade, things are anything but the same. After the murder of your Uncle, you begin to learn that no one is who they say they are, and that you may have accidentally given your heart to a mobster; The White Wolf of Brooklyn. More dangerous than that, he’s given you his.

@anonymityisfunwriter

⭒ Two Sides of the Same Coin

⭒ You're Losing Me

Your fairytale ending is crumbling before your eyes. You don't know how to love someone who can't tell you're dying. You fear you're fading away, begging him to do someone, say something, choose something. You fear he won't be able to resuscitate you this time. This time, he's losing you.

⭒ Alone Together

It was always been you and Bucky, alone together, you'd say. But suddenly, you're just alone.

⭒ Uptown Girl and the Brooklyn Boy

Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

@pellucid-constellations

⭒ For the Love of the Game

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.

@barnesafterglow

⭒ Friday (I'm In Love)

every day you love bucky. every friday he pretends to love you too

@sinner-as-saint

⭒ Tempestuous

With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it?

⭒ Ruin

You work at a café owned by your family, close to your uni. And most of your days are pretty laid back and calm, but that is until you catch the eye of the mob boss. Your cute skirts and soft sweaters make him weak. Your innocence captivates him. And he wants you, badly. He wants you in his bed, wants his hand under those cute little skirts… he wants to ruin you.

⭒ A Sweeter Place

Years after a messy break-up, and now seeking stability, infamous mob boss James Buchanan Barnes finds himself reunited with an old flame of his. Instant guilt and regret wash over him when he finds out that his reckless ways back then, changed an innocent girl’s life forever.

⭒ You're No Saint

Steve and Bucky have been friends since they were young boys. They are inseparable, so naturally when you married Steve you were aware that Bucky came along with him. Every event, every vacation, even as the best man at your wedding - Bucky was always there, alongside you and Steve. He was one of your best friends as well, so you’ve never thought of him in a sexual way, ever. That is until one certain night, when you see something you’re not supposed to and you like it a little too much. You deny your desire towards Bucky, but Steve knows you better than anyone. He knows what you want and need, and he’s determined to fulfil your fantasy; because what his wife wants, she gets.

⭒ Run For Your Life

He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with.

⭒ All Yours

One of your students confess their feelings for you and things get interesting...

@mellowsaturns

⭒ In Losing Grip, on Sinking Ships

when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

⭒ All to Myself

after bucky finds out why you've been acting up ever since his company's party, he teaches you a lesson and remind you that you're the only one for him

@renxzs

⭒ Redemancy

Maybe it was a bit naive to think moving in with your best friend and long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, was going to be some smooth road that led to an admittance of mutual feelings for one another and a happily-ever-after ending, wrapped up nicely in a bow. Naive indeed; especially when you have to consider the fact that Bucky is the biggest womanizer you know.

@cryptidcasanova

⭒ My Devotion

The one where Bucky doesn’t take your breakup well.

⭒ Loverboy

It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

@subwaysurf45

⭒ She's Not Mad

Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways.

@adrinktostopyourthirst

⭒ Sniper

Reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with Bucky and Yelena, but Bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. When he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.

⭒ Three Hundred

Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?

Variant

The chaos of the multiverse is quite literally holding up a mirror to Bucky. Turns out, it's very easy to get under someone's skin when you have a universal connection to them.

⭒ Underground

The Underground is the last way for you to survive whatever is left of the world after the Blip. Natasha introduces you to the Winter Soldier whose wing you're under until you find your way around. He's a stoic Underground fighter and you're... useless.

⭒ One Shot

Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.

⭒ Satisfied

Drunk sex with Bucky.

@thenhewaswrongaboutme

⭒ Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes

Bucky has to spend six months locked up with a stranger.

⭒ Time Out

Need me a boy who is so needy and whiny when he cums inside for who knows how many times, and yet he still begs as soon as he's done "please, please again? I'll be good, I-I swear, I just need it so bad, just one more baby I promise–"

@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

⭒ After All This Time

impending danger puts you and your ex, Bucky, in close quarters.

⭒ Why Are You At The Wake?

Bucky sits by your hospital bed, anxious for you to finally open your eyes. He’s got to set the record straight, and apologize for what he said before you got hurt.

⭒ The Rain Is Always Gonna Come If You're Standing With Me

A hurtful article in a low-budget gossip magazine throws your relationship with Bucky for a loop.

⭒ I Can Go Anywhere I Want, Just Not Home

Bucky doesn't talk to you anymore, and he's less than enthusiastic when he runs into you out of the blue. But when he calls from a strange phone number, the puzzle pieces fall together.

@noceurous

⭒ Get You Back

You hated that you loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved that you could not hate him.

@violentdelightsandviolentends

⭒ Honey Girl

The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

@notafunkiller

⭒ You Were Just Mine Yesterday

It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.

⭒ Out Of Style

A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

@queers-gambit

⭒ Curiousity Killed The Cat

after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

@cherryblossom-heart

⭒ I Loved You Once

Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy but breaking your heart seemed to come naturally to him. A love story about your heartbreak,his betrayal and a chance at redemption.

@rookthorne

⭒ Purity

Softness was a trait you unwittingly carried - the wings of a dove taking you higher and higher, elevating you in the eyes of the devil. And that devil did not want to wait any longer. It was time to collect.

⭒ His Girls

Cars were all the same to you — classics, imports, you name it, they were all the same. Well, they were, until you were nonetheless forced to visit your local mechanic and saw the man that would pique your interest in not only every single make and model of classic car, but his charming smile; the air of righteous arrogance that flowed from his tattoos, and that damned cheeky glint in his bright eyes.

⭒ Hollywood Boulevard

All it took was one night, one song - hell, one note - and you were gone for him, hook, line, and sinker. Turbulent times lay ahead, but in the afterglow of ecstasy, forced to feel emotions in such intensity for someone you’d never expect, you couldn't help but follow him anyway - he was irresistible, after all.

@boxofbonesfic

⭒ You're Gonna Give Me Six

@gogolucky13

⭒ Mean It

You and Bucky get trapped overnight in the safe house after a mission. Everything should be okay, except he's your ex and thanks to his carelessness, the situation gets a little more complicated.

@intrepidacious

⭒ Almost Believing

You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

@buckybarnesdiaries

⭒ Please

Bucky needed to be spoiled.

@buckys-darling

⭒ Face The Sun

To ensure the prosperity of their two kingdoms, a determined Princess and reluctant King are to be wed. She is willing to commit, but he can’t seem to let his lover go.

⭒ Will You Love Me Tomorrow?

You and Bucky are friends who fuck and nothing more. That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself, at least.

⭒ Electric

Flirtation has a different meaning with Bucky, and his patience doesn't last long when it comes to you.

@straywords

⭒ Kiss It Better

You’re not entirely sure your boss with the staring problem even likes you, but you’re determined to do your job either way.

@little-miss-dilf-lover

⭒ Fifteen Minutes

@bucksfucks

⭒ The Feeling's Mutual

the amount of times you and bucky have seen each other masturbating is alarmingly high. might as well do it together.

@ellemj

⭒ Bigger Than He Was

Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.

⭒ Strawberries

Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?

⭒ Breathe

Bucky hates the way you take unnecessary risks in the field, the way you're so mesmerizing and yet so hard to work with, and he especially hates the way you get on your knees for him during a dangerous mission. Finding out how pretty you look on your knees is the last thing he needs.

⭒ Flustered, part 2

Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.

⭒ Inevitable

While on a mission with Sam, John Walker, and Bucky, you're the only person exposed to a sex pollen. Bucky sure as hell isn't going to let anyone else take care of you.

⭒ Blurred Lines

When choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you.

@viixenvi

⭒ Red

You work at a strip club and Bucky is a regular. Tonight he specifically asks for you in a private room. You never thought he'd love the color red on you so much.

@ro-is-struggling

⭒ Self Care

Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.

@kinanabinks

⭒ Silent Girl

After a traumatizing event, you aren’t the friendliest or most talkative of people. Bucky understands, and in turn becomes the one person you soften your hard exterior for.

@angrythingstarlight

⭒ Roommate Bucky

@wkemeup

⭒ Cold, Cold Water

While on a stakeout in the heart of Russia, Bucky learns that touch can bring something more than pain and he will willingly give himself over to the ice if it means keeping you alive.

⭒ Drunk On You

Bucky has always been nervous around you. When he’s tasked with caring for you after a night of heavy drinking and suddenly you’re kissing him, Bucky doesn’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly want him sober, right?

⭒ Honey and Chamomile

Four cups of tea, four distinct moments in time, and each pulls you in closer beyond the walls surrounding Bucky’s heart.

⭒ Suburbia

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

⭒ Eclipse

When a mission leaves you empty and broken, Bucky is determined to heal the wounds that linger deeper than the cuts on the surface.

⭒ Back to Bourbon Street

When you’re badly injured on a mission, Bucky works desperately to keep you alive. Only, it might not be enough.

@espinosaurusrexex

⭒ Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

@navybrat817

⭒ Reconnect

Bucky Barnes is your best friend. You're also in love with him. After his recent breakup, the two of you get a chance to reconnect during a weeklong vacation together. Is it long enough to get your happy ending?

@dyspneagrime (wattpad & ao3)

⭒ No Privacy

You're stuck on a mission that never seems to end, in a completely destroyed studio apartment, with absolutely no privacy. And no privacy means- you haven't cum the whole time. Thing is, neither has the ancient, half-cyborg, psychopathic, hobo-lookin' asshole that you've been partnered up with.

⭒ Little Wing

The year is 1973. All Dove Rogers wanted was a relaxing summer. Just one last hoorah before being thrust into the adult life. Yet everything shifts when her new houseguest and long standing enemy- Bucky Barnes, arrives. In the thick of sun-kissed relaxation, the two of them are forced to face the awakening and burning desire growing between them.

⭒ Possessed

Margaret Everlee is a meek little thing. Living her life as a struggling artist in New York, trying to find her place in the world. That is until the formidable CEO with a dark past, James Barnes sets his sights on her. His infatuation is instantaneous, becoming a man obsessed with making her his own little doll.

@stardustdreams-andcaffeine

⭒ The Thin Line

Of one thing you were certain—Bucky Barnes hated you, and you hated him. How could you not, considering the super soldier had made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell after you had been assigned to protect him? But there was someone after Bucky from his past, and now he was forced to work alongside you to stop them. And in the process, you would find out just how thin that line was between love and hate.

@buckybabesonly

⭒ Wanna Be Yours

You are afraid to believe that someone like Bucky might actually love you back.

@lovelybucky1

⭒ Flirting and Football

@kurogxrix

⭒ Drunkenly In Love

you and Bucky ‘accidentally’ get married after a drunken game of truth or dare with the avengers.

@stxrvel

⭒ Hate Is A Strong Word

you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?

@kikixreverie

⭒ Its Called: Freefall

Things get heated between you and your closest friend Bucky, when you're made to play a married couple on an important mission. Neither of you can help yourselves when you end up stuck in a hotel room together, with sexual tension you could cut with a knife.

#marvel #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #“ass or tits?” bro A METAL ARM #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #tfatws #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #“i can change him” bitch why #hes a perfect menace to society and i love that #sebastian stan #mob!bucky #mob!au #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky x reader

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lizzy06 · 25 days

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Takami Keigo(Hawks) x Reader Fic Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

lay low (take it slow) ✨by @andypantsx3/andypantsx3(college student! reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut) What even was the right google search for this situation? How do I sew someone back together without passing out? How do I not barf on the pro hero I’m stitching up? Or, Hawks’ game of double agent lands him in the shaky hands of one (1) very unequipped English major.[COMPLETED]

Falling for You ✨by @flannel-cladpika (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)Every year, on your birthdays, you two will switch quirks.[COMPLETED]

Golden ✨by @meganshinsou-tm (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) When you touch yoursoulmate for the first time a thin gold line with be etched around your wrists.

Soul Chicken by @hitsuackerman (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your wrist and while Hawks has an absolutely unhelpful phrase written on them, y/n has something….unique.

Bird Hunting | Pt.2:Bird's Nest✨ by @a-n-conrad (oneshot, soulmate au)In a world where your soulmate was found through a symbol appearing on your left forearm, hinting at the quirk of your soulmate, you had to admit that you were lucky. You already knew who your soulmate was. The only issue was that there was really no way for you, an ordinary person, to get anywhere near the number 2 hero.

Petals and Feather✨ by @a-n-conrad(oneshot, hanahaki au, angst with happy ending) You’ve finally gotten a job as a sidekick after graduating from UA about a year before. But after working with Hawks for a few months it starts to get a bit hard to breathe. How are you supposed to fix a case of Hanahaki disease when you happened to fall in love with the most emotionally unavailable hero alive? [COMPLETED]

BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 4: Save Your Soul by @writing-freak (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)part of soulmate au week; everyone has colorful marks on their skin where their soulmate touches them for the first time. you’re determined to hide your soulmarks: a pair of hands on your waist.[COMPLETED]

“you really have got nothing to do on a friday night” by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which your friend keigo invites you to a pro hero event as his plus one, the event leads to a lot more than you expected.[COMPLETED]

Little Moments by @bnhascribbles (oneshot, fluff)Just Hawk's early morning visit.[COMPLETED]

lavender latte✨ by luxdeoro (coffee shop au, fluff, mutual pinning)You serve Hawks a lavender, oat milk latte. Not only is he hooked on your drinks, but he's hooked on you as well.[ONGOING]

a spoonful of sugar✨✨ by Mossful (fluff, angst) In which the Reader bakes and Hawks eats.[COMPLETED]

Pocket Full of Feathers✨ by forthesanityof1 (fluff, humor) You are an investigative journalist starting at a new agency. A chance meeting brings you and Hawks together and starts some odd behaviors on his part. You dismiss it, but end up meeting the hero again and again over time. Slowly, you start to realize things are occurring both within and outside of your control.[COMPLETED]

(Quirk)y Days✨✨ by wotefokizbrunch(fluff, angst, hurt/comfort) In a world where 80% of the population has some wacky power, it is expected for strange shit to happen on accident, or even on purpose, like that one time a villain hit Hawks with a deaging quirk; he left that morning for work his grown ass self and then you had to pick his 5-year-old-self up from the agency.[COMPLETED]

and i've gotta crow ✨by dashielldeveron(enemies to lovers, ) “We’re engaged to be married.” No, you are not. After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?[COMPLETED]

Color Blind✨ by HeroAssociation(soulmate au, fluff, angst with happy ending) Takami Keigo, otherwise known as the Winged Hero Hawks, had one such mark. He never expected, nor looked for, the person that would change it. Then he found you by accident.[COMPLETED]

The Harpy by romanceisdeadbutimnot(enemies to lovers, fantasy au, fluff) Desperate for adventure you volunteer to check the monster traps protecting your small village. To your surprise you catch a wounded half bird half man, and decide to nurse him back to health.[COMPLETED]

What's Got Your Feathers In A Bunch? by darkenedniqhts(oneshot, fluff, humor)When Hawks saves you from a villain attack, you hit it off surprisingly well, considering the circumstances. Everything is going great, until he meets your roommate.[COMPLETED]

Compelling/tumblr by @bnhascribbles/ ScatteredScribbles(oneshot, hurt/comfort) Hey listen, I’ve got a lot of baggage when it comes to my quirk. Could you repeat the word “yes” if you’re here of your own free will? Oh, and since you’ll probably say that either way and since I’m an emotionally compromised freak, just know that I’ll never actually feel secure in our relationship. This’ll definitely be a recurring thing, and it’s probably gonna be the reason why we end terribly.[COMPLETED]

Blush by @flannel-cladpika (oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

Headlines✨ by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, fluff) Holding up the newspaper in plain view, you take steady, ominous steps towards his desk. “Any last words, birdbrain?”[COMPLETED]

Stuck In An Elavator With You by @yeahimaloser (oneshot, fluff)he hadn’t really dated anyone before (not seriously anyway), so when he began to develop feelings for a certain someone, he was surprised, to say the least.[COMPLETED]

The Sky is Everywhere by @dira333/Fogfire(oneshot, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending)Post-Break up is before the Break up…[COMPLETED]

Sometime Around Midnight✨ by 0weCrew(friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending) All you wanted to do was enjoy a quiet night looking up at the stars. But fate decided to mess with you instead, and Japan's favorite birdbrain crashed your pity party of one by scaring you shitless.[COMPLETED]

Preening✨ by royalwilds(oneshot, fluff)Hawks loves your hair, playing with it, brushing it, washing it. you realize that it comes from another instinctual nature of his. You try to figure out how to return the gesture.[COMPLETED]

Babybird by Pomenocti(oneshot, fluff)Just Hawks being a dad.[COMPLETED]

Crash✨ by ivan_glee(oneshot, fluff)In which Reader is sunbathing and gets an unexpected visit from the No. 2 hero.[COMPLETED]

A Lungful of Smoke✨ by UnluckyAmulet(oneshot, fluff) As if nearly dying today wasn't bad enough…now you have a crush, too. Damn it.[COMPLETED]

Little Bird by alaskasmonsters(oneshot, fluff) Hawks wasn’t just the charming number two pro-hero the world knew him as. No, he had other sides to him, sides only you, his roommate, had the privilege to uncover. Especially his more birdlike quirks. Like how much he relaxed when people took care of his wings…[COMPLETED]

crawl home to me✨ by Hawnks (supermintfluff)(oneshot, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort) What is a hero besides determination and hunger? What is a lover if not a resting place?[COMPLETED]

Shiny Things by royalwilds(oneshot, fluff) Hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. He likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why.[COMPLETED]

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery by galatiq(oneshot, fluff, humor. coffee shop au) When you put a coffee shop and a nasty storm together, apparently you get Big Bird from Sesame Street crashing into your window. [COMPLETED]

Flowers, Wings, Smirks and Quirks (Ingredients for Love) by ENDisI (oneshot, angst with happy ending, hanahaki disease au) Why was it when you joked about Hanahaki not being real, fate just slaps you awake and tells you "Oh, it's true. You didn't know?" [COMPLETED]

i am your salvation✨ by luxdeoro(oneshot, angst, hurt/comfort) Keigo loses his wings and most of himself, and you're around to try and pick up the pieces.[COMPLETED]

Balcony by RyeTarts(friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut<18+>) After saving you from an office building fire, Hawks thinks that your paths were no longer intertwined. Oh how wrong he would be.[COMPLETED]

Birds Of A Feather by CheerieCherrie(fluff, explicit skippable chp.6) You move to Japan for a change of pace in your hectic life. It doesn't happen, thanks to one chaotic bird man.[COMPLETED]

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pedgito · 3 months

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𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 | Francisco Morales x reader

summary | working your summer job you find yourself fawning over a boy you barely know, realizing by the end of the summer that letting go of him may not be the best idea.

content warning | young!frankie morales, reader is working in bar (if there’s some things wrong, just know i tried fjsjsj), background tf boys, phone texts, inebriated hook ups (frankie is a lil drunk but he’s okay i swear) smut out the wazoo, oral (m/f receiving, protecting p in v, hints of voyeurism, idk let me live in this dream pls

word count — 7.5k

The bar was supposed to be easy cash, a second job you picked up during the summer, between the interim of your final year of college and the beginning of your life—just some extra money to keep you afloat amongst the drowning seas of tuition debt. But, the job came with unexpected challenges—rude customers, drunk customers, (given that you worked in a bar you really couldn’t fault them) but it was the rowdy ones that really got under your skin. And you quickly learned the unspoken schedule of customers as they made their weekly round for a few drinks, some over-fried bar food, and a game of darts or pool.

Monday through Wednesday were some of your more favorite days, friendlier people who liked to visit earlier in the day before the bar got packed after sunset, some relaxed chit chat and a beer or two. They tipped very nicely, too.

Thursday was the slowest of the week, co-workers sliding in to catch a game of pool or watch some sports game on the old, ratty television tucked in the corner area of the bar, even with you squinting your eyes it was still barely visible and they almost always left the biggest messes at their table—but again, you couldn’t complain when it was only a few tables you had to scrub down.

Friday was always busy, the weekends just as bad—from open to close you were shuffling around behind the bar, in tune with your co-workers as you moved around each other. You knew some people by name and some would politely remind you—you saw about a hundred different faces every week, some were bound to slip through the cracks.

But, within your first week there, you found a particular group of boys would show up every Friday without fail—a few rounds of beers, a mountain of wings and fries and whatever else they could get their hands on, and a game or two of darts and a pool table they had just to themselves.

The charmer, Santiago, was the first to introduce himself.

A crisp hundred dollar bill slipped over in advance with a softer tone, “I’m apologizing in advance, they tend to get a little, uh, loud.” It wasn't the right word, but you smiled nonetheless, still checking the money behind the counter in case he tried to slide you a fake and mask it with a simple courtesy that wasn't shown often. Kindness.

You start their tab, grab their orders, and within twenty minutes their voices are already booming over the rest and arguing about a stupid game of darts, three other boys crowded around Santiago as their faces are within an inch of the board, fingers pointing all over.

There is a straggler, though—a man who’s similar in age to most of the boys, late twenties maybe? He had to be close to your age or just a little older but the sodden expression on his face made him feel much older, sipping at the round of beers you had brought by as soon as Santiago headed back for the table.

They call him Catfish, whatever that means—and it seems like they all have nicknames for each other and you wanted to ask, but it didn’t seem worth it. Your Rolodex of names in your head was already bursting at its seams and Santiago was the only one you could bother to remember, especially when he’s sliding over a chunk of cash in advance rather than blowing up his tab and then scrambling to pay.

For a few weeks it’s just that. They come in, Santiago pays, and then they spend a few hours in the back of the bar arguing like boys, rather than men. But, they always leave you a hefty tip when they don’t fill out their tab or when they go over and pay it out and then some.

And naturally, you’re curious. About them. About him.

So, when Catfish comes in on a Saturday night completely alone, that curiosity does get the better of you.

He doesn’t make much of a scene, sliding into the bar stool instead of taking up a table, and seeing how busy it is, he waits—quietly and with a faint smile on his face that you catch a few times in passing, refilling cups with ice and offering a polite smile back.

When you finally get to him you're slightly breathless, wiping your hands on the towel tucked into your back pocket, “Hey, sorry about—what can I get you?”

“Just a beer,” He says with a shrug, promptly sliding over a twenty as you pour and hand off the glass.

“Where’s the others?” You ask curiously, an attempt at casual conversation despite selfishly wanting to know.

“A party,” Fish explains, “Benny won his tournament so they’re celebrating that.”

The name sounds familiar but you can’t quite place it.

“The younger one,” He adds with a subtle smirk, seeing the furrow in your brow of you thinking too hard.

“So Benny, Santiago—but you get stuck with Catfish?”

It can’t be his actual name, but they never use anything else.

“Francisco,” He takes a generous sip of his beer before setting it down, tapping his fingers idly against the surface of the bar, “—but, just Frankie. If that’s easier.”

You tilt your head with a genuine smile, putting a name to a face and it feels fitting, the hat suffocating his mop of hair, curls peeking around the edge of his hat and the dark colored tees he always wore, some sort of dismay always written on his face. You can’t explain it, but it works for him.

Frankie. Francisco. Catfish.

“Well, Frankie—if you need anything just yell. That’s probably the only way I’ll hear you,” You tell him with a laugh before attempting to depart—the bar isn’t too bad at the moment, all customers dealt with but the roar of the bar is loud.

“Well—wait,” Frankie half shouts, grabbing your attention, “what’s your name? I gave you mine, seems fair to ask.”

You tell him with a shrug, “But, I only ever hear honey or sweetheart all night, so really, I’m whatever you want me to be.”

Frankie chuckles at that, looking away briefly as if to busy his mind with something else and you slip away then.

You don’t ask why he came alone—why he would skip out on a party with the men he came here every Friday night with—maybe he needed a break. Alone time. It wasn’t your business.

But, one Saturday becomes another. And two months later he’s come by every Saturday. Alone. And giving you his undivided attention. It’s sweet, you’ll admit that.

He isn’t as closed off on Friday’s when he arrives with the other boys but isn’t as outwardly friendly as say, Santiago would be during that time. But, Saturdays—he’s a whole different person. Lighter. Happier.

He only ever orders one beer, makes small talk, and lately—he’s been walking you to your car. So, not only is he nursing that beer over the four hours left in your shift by the time he gets there, he’s waiting for you. To clock out, that is.

Really, it’s against your better judgment. Allowing a total stranger to know what you drive, where you park, what time your shift ends, but Frankie is a… friend.

He isn’t like most of the customers, terrible at small talk and flirting and only making half-assed, nasty comments toward you when they get a few rounds in.

He’s seen it a few times. He never berates the guys, but he does pull your attention away, occupies your mind, and always manages to slip in a few words that make your legs go weak and encourage the dull throb between your thighs—even if it’s just a smile and an apology on their behalf.

Frankie always shows interests, ask about you and your life in the politest way he can without seeming like a complete creep—you can tell he doesn’t flirt often, by the way he’s quiet around his friends when you stop by their table or how he never asks for your number despite twirling his phone in his hands idly most of the night, trying to seem occupied but mostly staring at a blank screen until he finally gains the courage to ask you another question.

The first night he walks you to your car it’s quick—he stays until you close up for the night and walks around back, a careful and watchful eye on your surroundings as he nods and wishes you goodnight with a half-hearted smile, kicking himself in the ass for not just asking for your number.

And it continues like that for weeks, within those couple months, and gradually Frankie bursts out of his shell little by little until you both are giggling one night over a particularly rowdy customer, having gotten himself arrested for indecent exposure and broken a table.

His hand grazes your lower back as you walk out, a genuine mistake but you turn your head toward him quickly, soothing his worries with a smile as you stick the key into the lock.

“Don’t worry about it,” You tell him with a comforting tone, “I’m used to men being a little more handsy than that, so, if anything, you’re a gentleman.”

“Those aren’t men.” Frankie argues lightheartedly.

“Eh, men who act like boys,” You say, “they’re assholes either way you put it.”

Frankie nods, readjusting his cap on his head as he pushes his fingers through his hair.

You twist the keys in your hand and start the walk toward your car.

“Do you ever take that thing off?”

Frankie’s eyes dart up toward the hat and he chuckles, hidden under the scruff and grown out facial hair, “No. No, not really.”

“Would you do it if I asked you to?”

He contemplates but never gives you a straight answer, forcing you to prod him gently with the end of your key, “Don’t worry—I won’t. Not yet.”

Frankie’s fingers curl around the edge of your door as he holds it open and watches you climb in, mind swimming with a million ways to ask what he wants, but it never comes.

But, you see it on his face immediately, the caution behind his eyes in being so forward with you.

“Ask for it,” You tell him, turning on the ignition to your car, still looking at him as he looms between you and the car door, “—unless you want to make me ask.”

Frankie looks away briefly and you laugh softly at his sudden unabashed expression as he smiles and turns back to you, “Can I have your number?”

You hold your hand out in wait, thumbing in your number the moment the phone finds your palm. You send yourself a short text with a smiley face to make sure it goes through and hand it back over, feeling a sudden flutter of anxiety in your chest.

Not good, not bad—but it is something.

“Put it to good use,” You warn him, “don’t make me regret that.”

Frankie smiles wider that time, his teeth peeking out behind full lips.

“Right,” He agrees, “absolutely. I promise.”

He adds a soft goodnight and you depart, feeling your phone buzz again before you even pull out of the parking lot.

[Unknown Number]: Goodnight

You snort a quiet laugh to yourself.

An hour later, a toothbrush tucked into your cheek as you stare down at your phone when it vibrates. You had half the mind to save his number despite your exhaustion from the shift you worked.

[Frankie]: Home safe?

[You]: Yep. :) Thank you for checking on me

[Frankie]: :) Goodnight.

[Frankie]: Again lol.

It’s stupid—it shouldn’t make you smile. But, it does.

You quickly find every day occupied by Frankie in some form, through text or just the thought of him. He’s everywhere and you can’t seem to care—and you give up sleep in the middle of the night for text conversations that come from just wanting to hear from him, as nervous as you are to just call—you could, you knew he wouldn’t care. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You try to learn as much as you can about him.

[You]: Why Catfish?

It’s a random Tuesday when the text comes through his phone. He’s busy in class, cramming himself in as many hours as possible before he tests for his pilot license.

[Frankie]: Long story. Obnoxiously long. Why?

[You]: Just curious. It’s a strange nickname

[Frankie]: So what does that make me?

Frankie doesn’t get a response for a while and he knows you’re probably working, but he finds his fingers reaching for his pocket any time his phone vibrates in the hopes that it’s you.

[You]: Sorry. There was a mess at work.

[You]: It makes you strange btw

[You]: I’m kidding. But, it’s still a weird nickname.

Frankie can tell it’s you from the constant buzzing and he takes a peek at his phone.

[Frankie]: Oh shit. How bad of a mess?

[Frankie]: I know. Maybe I can explain it another time.

You’re busy wiping the beer off your face as you look at his text, the security dragging out the guy who had splashed the glass of liquid back at your face.

[You]: Some asshole threw a beer at me. Nothing new. Clothes are soaked.

[You]: Don’t try to make a joke about that or I’m double charging you this Friday.

Frankie frowns at the implication that you think he’s first instinct is to make a joke at your expense, but you can’t help to protect yourself from the behavior you’re used to from most men.

[Frankie]: Do you need me to bring you something? I can stop by on my way home?

[You]: I’ll survive. Thank you, though. My shift is almost over.

A couple days later you end up going down a fireshot line of questioning to get to know him, much to his surprise.

[You]: Okay. Birthday?

[Frankie]: April 2nd.

He returns the question to which you answer but add on another text with a joke at his expense.

[You]: Damn, a day short and that would be perfect for you. So, you’re an Aries.

[Frankie]: Yeah, whatever that means.

You laugh to yourself, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you walk through your local grocery store to pick up items for dinner that night.

[You]: It fits you. Oh! What do you do for work?

[You]: Fair game since you know what I do.

[Frankie]: We’re all in the army. I work on aircraft.

Oh, that’s…not what you were expecting.

[Frankie]: It’s new. I’m trying to get my pilot's license right now. I’ve got a big test coming up for it.

[You]: That’s so cool! Take me for a ride sometime?

You smirk to yourself as you press send.

[Frankie]: Yes.

You look ridiculous smiling at your phone in the middle of the aisle but you can’t help it.

In the army. A pilot. And a gentleman? Or, at least he’s provided himself to be nice enough. You were both young, so it didn’t surprise you that you were both unluckily single. But, Frankie seemed like such a catch—and it terrified you how badly you wanted him. Even in the simplest form.

A friend, a best friend, even. Or more, definitely more. But, you didn’t mind either way.

He’s due to take the test for his pilot license the Monday after your last shift, showing up with the boys on that Friday before—typical routine and behavior, but he does seem a bit more handsy. Santiago has always been friendly, but he does hug you this time he sees you, catching you on the way back to the bar and he plants a kiss on your cheek that you welcome with a soft, playful shove of your hand at his face and if it strikes Frankie with jealousy, you don’t notice.

But, he does shock you when he wraps an arm around your front and hugs you lazily, haphazardly slumping his other arm over your shoulder as he plants a kiss in your the hair at the crown on your head and rubs your hip with his thumb, leaving you dumbstruck and wanton the rest of your shift, frazzled every time you glance his way.

Santiago orders a round of shots toward the end of the night and thanks you with a wink, departing for the table and interrupting the idle conversation the men were entranced in.

You’re not sure what was going on, wiping down the counter as the night slowed down and casually flicking your eyes up to check on them, hearing them laugh occasionally, glancing your way briefly and suddenly Frankie was headed your way, fiddling around with the brim of his hat as he pressed a forearm against the countertop you had just wiped down.

You snap him gently with the towel and give him a look, he backs away slightly, hovering over the edge of the counter.

“What’s up?”

“They’re a bunch of dicks, I’m sorry.” Frankie deflected, glancing back at the boys who were staring on with sated smirks, clearly enjoying the sight of him fumbling and dropping the ball as he spoke to you. His eyes flick up wearily, soft and so distinct to him that it makes your heart ache. “Pope—Santiago, he dared me to come over and kiss you. And it’s stupid but if I didn’t at least try I would never hear the end–”

You pull him in by the collar of his shirt, the brim of his hat being pushed askew by the force as you press your lips to his in a simple, but unmistakable kiss. Tilting your head slightly as you pull away briefly to kiss him once more, dropping your towel to push your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and it seems like his brain catches up too late, his fingers barely grazing your neck as you pull away.

You pointedly look around Frankie to flip the other three off with both hands.

“Get out of here,” You warn playfully, “before I murder one of them.”

Frankie huffs a soft laugh through his nose before he turns away, speechless.

They were out of there within a few minutes, but an hour later your lips were still tingling.

Frankie is different that Saturday—more energetic, seeming lighter and more playful.

He drinks one beer, then two, surprisingly a couple shots of tequila—and before you know it, you’re seeing a much different side of Frankie than you're used to and it is quite the sight.

“Am I cutting you off?” You ask curiously, “I don’t want you nursing a hangover tomorrow when you have your test on Monday.”

“One more,” Frankie promises, “but—surprise me?”

You shrug, not finding a problem with it.

“Sweet or savory?” You ask him.

You feel your breath catch slightly as he pauses, his eyes doing a subtle drag over your body as you take a couple steps back, reaching for an empty glass.

“Sweet.”

It has an underlying tension to it neither of you address.

You make something up on the fly—fruity and sweet with the slightest bit of tang, nothing that screams Frankie but when you set it down in front of him and he drinks, his eyes widen slightly.

And for half a second you think he might spit it out, but then he’s chugging the rest down—and maybe it’s alcohol dulling his taste buds but he makes a quick show of assuring you he liked it, even if it’s mostly for your own benefit.

Shaking his head as he licks at his lips with his tongue in a way that feels so unnecessary that you can’t help but giggle, snatching the empty glass away from him as he smiles, his eyes half-lidded from the faint buzz he has going on, but otherwise he still seems fine.

You couldn’t let him get that drunk, not when he had so much riding on that test.

By the end of the night, your side hurts from laughing so much, forceably having to shove your hand in Frankie’s face to get him to shut up for half a second, his fingers circling around your wrist as he pulls you forward and you giggle into his shoulder.

“Stay. Let me close up and we can walk through the back.” You tell him and he nods quietly, though his grin never fades, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip idly while he watches you work around the clutter and reorganize, cleaning everything down before you’re flicking off the lights and nodding at him to follow.

If it were anyone else, you’d have given them a stiff kick to the balls and sent them on their way, but the moment Frankie noses at your neck your hard resolve melts and you shrug him away at how much it tickles your skin, feeling his hand wrap around the bicep on your left arm. He’s never been so touchy but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it. In fact, you’re eating it up at this point.

“Frankie,” You warn him playfully, working and failing to lock the door as uses his other hand to squeeze at your side, “come on—I can’t lock up with you doing that.”

“Try,” He teases, challenges, and you can’t help but like the bolder, less restrained side of himself he’s offering up to you.

The gentle nuzzling quickly turns to kisses, wet and open mouthed as he practically drapes himself over you, one hand pressed into the brick wall beside the backdoor and you sigh softly, leaning into his chest as you finally get the door locked and shrug him away.

“Am I going to see you next week?” He asks hopefully, knowing that with August looming in the distance that your job at the bar was close to being nullified.

You shake your head with a bittersweet smile, “Tomorrow is my last day, actually. For now, anyway.”

Frankie’s brow furrows at that and he shakes his head slightly before he’s invading your space, hands cupping your face as he lifts your chin up to meet your lips and kisses you gently, your fingers coming up to curls around his forearms and you feel his lips part just as you pull away.

“What—what are you doing?” You ask him, feeling like an echo as he comes back to the surface with a delayed response, trying to kiss you again but you're pressing your fingertips over his lips until he realizes that you actually want an answer.

“I’ve wanted you all summer,” He admits and it makes your blood run hot, that distinct tingle of pleasure shooting down your spine and it is nothing you were expecting him to say, but tonight was full of surprises apparently, “do I need to prove it to you?”

He presses his forehead against your own and you shake your head in response. You believed him, you didn’t doubt him for a second—but it feels surreal. Those quick, fleeting summer flings you only hear about in passing, never expecting to experience it yourself.

You may never see him again, you had to strike the match while it was still in reach.

“Are there cameras back here?” Frankie asks hastily.

You snort, “No—we’re five minutes away from college dorms in the poorest part of town. People come here for cheap booze, not security.”

Frankie nods at that, “You’re right,” He responds but the end is muffled as he kisses you again, with less care and a lot more tongue as you open your mouth to him and find the words on your tongue are muffled by his.

And thank god the street lights were shit in the back alley, barely working amongst the occasional flicker, you eventually find your way in the darkened corner of the back alley with Frankie’s hand working at the button on your jeans, almost tripping over an overturned crate on the way there that causes you both to burst into a fit of giggles, laughing through the sloppy kisses Frankie can’t help but smother you with, sighing when his fingers dip past the denim and thin fabric underwear to cup your pussy with his entire hand, the warmth of his palm like an answered prayer.

His hat is frustrating though, constantly bumping and prodding at your head before you finally get fed up, plucking it off his head and tossing it to the ground with an annoyed sigh that forces a choked laugh from Frankie’s throat, dipping a finger down the center of your core before pressing inside of you, gasping at the sudden but welcomed intrusion. You release a shaky sigh and open your eyes to look at him, finding he’s plenty amused but still buzzed in his own way.

Half beer, half pleasure—but he looks like he wants to devour you.

Lucky for you, he was starving.

Your mouth hangs open slightly, breathing picking up as he angles his fingers and slips another inside, curling them toward you from within and you pull at the curls at the nape of his neck.

He smirks in amusement, “Wish you could see how needy you look,” Frankie comments, “all it took was a couple fingers, huh?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Too bad it took you all summer,” You pester him as he picks up the intensity, using his other hand to push your jeans lower down your hips, “and some stupid fuckin’ drink to make you finally want to have sex with.”

“Sex?” Frankie jokes through a throaty chuckle, “Who said anything about—”

Your hand cups the front of his jeans firmly, a little harsher than necessary but you can tell he doesn’t mind, almost challenging you to tease him a little more but the moment you both hit a solid wall you’re tripping over each other’s feet and it pulls you back to the surface and despite your clothes being half-stripped away and Frankie’s hand still shoved down the front of your jeans, it brings back a surprising amount levity to assess the situation at hand.

“I mean, do you want to?” You ask him curiously, tucking a curl behind his ear as he blinks, considering how this would affect his relationship with you, as brief and fleeting as it was.

“You’re really asking me that?” He responds, “Of course.”

“Well, I mean you did just say—”

Frankie places his palm over your mouth, muffling the end of your sentence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He deflects, hoping you’ll play along.

You work at his belt without hesitation, far over the small talk and tired of wasting time. Frankie pulls his hand away much to your disappoint, pouting slightly as he drag his hand up your stomach, under your shirt until he’s got it tucked under your chin and mouthing of your bra greedily, the fingers of his other hand peeking around the fabric to pull it down, taking the soft, pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking with a satisfied groan as you dip your hand beyond his waistband and over his boxers, pulled tight against his thighs and groin. You could picture the sight of him in your mind for hours if you wanted, but you had him here, right here.

Why not give yourself a peek at the real thing?

Frankie is lost, deep within the exploration of your body that he doesn’t even hear your voice when you plead with him, his voice grazing over the delicate skin of your breasts as he pulls away, already ready to descend and yank your jeans the rest of the way down, press his face between your legs and feast on you like it was the best thing he’s tried all night.

But, there’s the pout again—so subtle he would miss it had he not finally given you his full, undivided attention and he was right. You are needy.

His thumb rubs at the small sliver of your lip that’s poking out, rocking his hips gently into the hand still tucked away into his jeans—there was such a distinct charm to him, melting under his gaze the second his eyes made contact with your own. Every time.

“I don’t wanna keep you,” You whine emphatically and Frankie almost immediately begins to shake his head—

No. No, of course not. You wouldn’t be keeping him at all. Not a chance, not a fuckin—his inner monologue is going wild but he finds you perking up at the slowly growing panic on his face.

“But,” You breath, the thumb that was resting at your bottom lip trailing down the valley of your breasts before he cups one gently in his hand, “I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t give you at least something to remember this.”

“Couldn’t forget about you if I tried, actually,” He begins, but you shake your head, shushing him and pushing his hand away before you sink to your knees despite the immediate protest in your knees at the hard gravel—but god was it fucking worth it when you look up, half-lidded eyes staring back as you shake his jeans down his hips, just far enough that you can watch as he does the work with his boxers, cock bobbing free as he settles the band underneath his balls and if has to look away by that point, overwhelmed in the way your eyes roam but you don’t speak, clearly admiring and seering this to memory as you smile cheekily, taking his cock in your hand and jerk him slowly, thumb running along the vein that follows to the head of his cock.

“Get off the floor,” He begs pathetically, “gonna tear your knees up doing that.”

You laugh quietly to yourself and slide your tongue along the head of his cock, dipping down the slit of his head and to his shaft, pulling back at the skin and taking him into your mouth fully. He’s uncircumcised, thick and perfect—he fills your mouth out so beautifully in all his girth that you wonder just how much better it can feel between your legs, filling you out in the best way.

“Oh, jesus—baby, that’s,” You hum, bobbing your head in constant rhythm as your work your free hand around his balls, cupping them and allowing your other hand to cover the rest of what your mouth couldn’t take of his length and Frankie looks like he might actually pass out, looking around desperately for something, anything to lean on before he just settles for the wall behind you, resting both of his palms against the brick as he towers over you.

Frankie sighs shakily, dropping a hand to tuck against the back of your head, and your stomach swirls with anticipation as he allows himself to break his restrain a little, guiding his cock into your mouth with little aide given how eager you were as you took him as far as you could go, brush your nose against the trimmed patch of hair at the base and feel his hand flex in your hair, gripping it tight and attempting to pull you off to no avail, repeating the process until he’s begging for you to slow down, give him just a few seconds to breathe, ultimately finding that you don’t stop until he finally finds his voice again, stuttering out a desperate, “Stop, stop, stop–”

You pull away suddenly, worrying crossing your face but quickly dissipating as Frankie laughs, pulling you to your feet without much fight on your part and he does notice the few scraps on your knees, collecting with blood and he really wishes you would have listened but you brush him off, his body pressing you up against the brick wall behind you, pants still hanging at his thighs and his dick pressed against your stomach, shirt still sloppily bunched up over your tits.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, so vulgar it makes you pulse around absolutely nothing, his eyes roving over your face curiously, his thumb tracing over your lips, with a soft mumble, “God, I need you so bad.”

“My car,” You respond, tongue pressing against the pad of his fingertip as you nod behind him, “Condoms, they’re—in the car.”

Frankie makes a face, sort of amused but a little confused.

“Shut up,” You null his question before it slips out—”It’s precaution, okay? Guys love to pull the whole—”

“No, I—I get it,” Frankie answers, a small laugh rounding out his tone, “I just figured, you know—we’d…go back to your place? Or mine?”

Your hand fists into his shirt slowly, pulling him impossibly closer like he wasn’t already pressed against every surface of your body.

“What if I can’t wait?” Your eyes soften, looking up at him and catching the swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip, wanting to taste that tinge of sugar that lingers with him, “Would you fuck me right now?”

Frankie nods eagerly and you don’t hesitate, grabbing for his hat, placing it against his chest and gripping his hand in your own before you shove him away gently and lead him to your car, mostly covered in darkness aside from the obnoxiously orange streetlight that glowed overhead. Your clothes haphazardly pulled back up as you clamber into the driver's seat to reach over the console and into the glovebox, aware of the hand that slides between your leg as you search in the poor lighting, squealing when he squeezes at the flesh under his grip and shoving the foil wrapper into Frankie’s chest when you finally get your hand on the box.

“Off,” He tells you, pulling at the zipper of your jeans, “all the way.”

There was so much going on in your mind, nothing you could pluck out and focus on but it buzzed with excitement, anticipation, the kind of adrenaline that only comes in situations when your judgment is hasty and not fully-thought out. You’re barely kicking your shoes off and pulling your jeans past your ankle before Frankie is manhandling you into the backseat, and pressing his face between your thighs as he licks into you, a surprised gasp tearing from your throat as you grip the seats wherever you can.

Your pussy throbs under the care of his tongue, and he carries on obnoxiously, making a mess between your legs as his fingertips grip at the flesh of your ass and force you to open yourself wider to him, “Frankie—” You interject weakly, but he silences you with his mouth, sucking at your clit like it was his new obsession and you whine so pathetically that you find you covering your mouth in shame, biting gently at your bicep to muffle the flurry of sounds that came out after.

He pulls away some time later—minutes, hours, days, you can’t even place it. But, you hear him shift, the rip of the wrapper and the jingling of his belt as he shifts his jeans further down and slides into the backseat more comfortably, hovering over you. His hands squeezing at your hips, a comforting gesture as he speaks from behind you.

“Are you sure?”

It’s sweet, you can admit that. But, you don’t need that.

“Frankie.”

He wasn’t budging. Because, if by some sudden change of heart you didn’t want this, he wanted to know.

“Yes. Yes,” You say, turning slightly to look over your shoulder, his face only an inch or so away as you tuck your arm back and push your fingers into his hair, pulling his face next to yours as he pushes inside of you slowly, yanking gently at the strands between your fingers as he settles, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“Let me hear you,” He begs, “It’s just us.”

He hears you all the time, voice carrying across the bar but never like this—for him, only for him.

He pulls back gently, snapping his hips firmly and you hum softly, slightly giddy over the entire situation. He continues that way, so gentle and cautious that it makes you wonder why you both avoided this for so long, “More?” Frankie asks. You nod and his pace quickens slightly, a little harsher, and your hand grips onto the passenger seat beside your head for leverage as he chest rumbles with a deep sigh, “Fuck this is—baby, you have no idea.”

“Tell me,” You plead, the quiet creak of the car drowned out by your loud, pathetic moans as Frankie’s fingers curl around your throat and hold, no pressing or squeezing, just another place for them to find a home.

“Thought about this—so many times,” He admits, “came here for months—fuck, months. And then you show up and I was nervous—couldn’t, couldn’t even think of what to say to you. I knew I’d embarrass myself in front of them.” He squeezes then, a gentle pressure on your throat that has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“I had to see you alone,” His throat is tight, his breath a little quicker as he speaks, his hips snapping into you at a steady pace that clouds your mind effortlessly, “wanted you for myself—and, I would’ve fucked you that first night if you’d let me.”

You cunt squeezes him tight at his words and he curses, “So greedy, baby. She’s drooling all over me—such a fucking mess,” And you need to see him, face the man who’s finally found just the right amount of confidence to make you speechless. You lean up suddenly and force a hand into his chest and he only looks slightly confused before you’re pulling him inside and forcing him to sit into the cramped back seat, uncaring of the open car door as the car rocks with the weight of your bodies and you seat yourself on his lap, gripping his dick in your hand and sinking back down onto him without a word, curling yourself over him as you push away the hair clinging to his forehead, damp from sweat and his eyes are blown wide, staring up at you like he was under hypnosis, gaze locked on your own.

“Tell me now,” You challenge him—nowhere to hide behind his words.

“Would you—have let me fuck you that one night I walked you to your car?” He asks.

You smile guiltily, remembering the heat of his hand on your back, never really an accident.

“I’d have let you fuck me over the pool table if you asked, Frankie.” You admit, “In front of your friends too, if that’s what you really wanted.”

Frankie laughs weakly, giving you the lead as you lift your hips with a sudden eagerness.

“Is that what you want?” You tease him, “You guys are all about claim, right? Army boys love to show off—I mean, they’d probably be into it. Santi, for sure—”

Frankie covers your mouth with his hand and you giggle, biting playfully at the flesh of his palm.

He squeezes at your hip with his free hand, forcing you into a hurried pace as he begins to move his hips to meet your own, lifting off the seat slightly with every snap of his hips. Your cry is muffled by his hand but Frankie sees it in your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes that tells him.

“Touch yourself, babygirl,” He tells you, “Let’s see how bad you want it.”

You lean back between the open space of the driver and passenger seat, one hand gripping the upholstery of the seat while the other works between your legs, fingers drifting over your clit and into the mess of yourself that was leaking over Frankie’s cock from where it was buried inside of you and he wasn’t lying—you’ve never been so turned on in your life. Half-assed hook-ups and guys that didn’t give a shit about your own pleasure, Frankie was a goddamn dream and a hell of a good fuck.

You know your body well enough that it doesn’t take long, but the show is for Frankie’s benefit alone, head thrown back over your shoulders as your middle and ring finger circle your clit, occasionally wrapping your hand around what of his shaft was available as you tried weakly to move your hips, squeezing to pull a soft little gasp from his chest. It was such a damn shame you didn’t have him fully naked, splayed out on the mattress in your shitty apartment. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin, leave half crescent marks and a reminder of you for days, weeks even.

“Fuck, I’m right there, baby—” He warns, unexpectedly joining your own fingers and forcing you over the edge just before he pulls you in, a brutal snap of his hips before he’s muffling the deep groans of his orgasm into your skin, teeth sinking gently into your shoulder.

The next few minutes is spent in a blissful silence, moving off of him carefully as he discards the condom but never letting you drift to far, still curled up and half naked on his lap as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face, pulling you in for a kiss that takes your breath away, literally pulls from your chest and makes your heart stop.

Oh…this was not good.

You breathe shakily and pull away with a smile that masks that sudden ache in your chest and kiss again at the inside of his palm. He leans his head against the backseat, eyes closed as he catches his breath and groans slightly when you move off of him, oblivious and exhausted as you redress hastily beside him, pulling your jeans back up your legs and over your hips, slipping your shoes on and readjusting your shirt, shaking him gently when you fear he might have passed out right there in the back of your car.

“Frankie,” You call out, saying his name a few more times before you call out, one last time, “Francisco, hey.”

His eyebrows raise in question, a subtle smile on his lips as he peeks an eye open to look at you.

“I really need to get home,” You tell him, laughing half-heartedly at his drunken stupor, “you’ve gotta go.”

Frankie seems to realize then that he can’t drag this out any longer, redressing himself slowly as he climbs out of the car, watching you fiddle with your shirt and your appearance, trying to not look like you just got fucked in the backseat of your car.

He seems to notice the slight dismay on your face, knowing that your lives were diverting down different paths, but this was still the present. Now. And he was still here.

He presses you into the driver’s side door and kisses you then, hands crawling up the side of your neck and caressing the curve of it, dipping his tongue past your lips and really stealing your breath away, moaning into your mouth like you were the greatest thing he’s ever tasted.

You pull away regrettably when you feel him start to ramp up again, “Good luck on your test, by the way.” You tell him honestly, “You can text me the good news when you pass.”

Frankie chuckles, “I will.” There’s a long pause and then he’s speaking again, the few words you weren’t sure you wanted to hear, “Can I see you again?”

The hesitance is obvious on your face and it kicks Frankie down a peg, but he gets it. He wasn’t a boyfriend, barely even a friend. But, he was still hopeful.

“Maybe.” You offer, “I mean—you still have my number. I’m just a text or call away, you know.”

Frankie couldn’t admit that you were the only thing getting him through this summer without relapsing or making another misstep, that wasn’t your burden. But, the weight on his heart is heavy and his own to bear, welcoming the hug you offer him immediately and squeezing you so tight you might break, but of course, you don’t.

And he thinks that if he showed up broken, in pieces, that you would know exactly how to piece him back together, but he hoped that never happened. That maybe you might manage to escape him and he wouldn’t drag you down with him.

“Goodbye, Frankie.”

He smiles and nods, settling his hat back on his head as he steps away.

You leave soon after, not sure why this sudden dark cloud is looming over you.

Frankie never texts you about his test and the texts you send in the aftermath are never responded to—and eventually you give up, feeling like an idiot for being hopeful in the first place.

↝ beta: @chaotic-mystery

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #francisco morales smut #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #frankie morales fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #triple froniter #my writing

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angie-likes-to-art · 2 months

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Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition V)

All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

New in Town by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hey!! could you write a story where a new girl at school decides to nervously go up to Eddie during lunch? She gently taps his shoulder to get his attention to ask him something. ahh I don’t know you can decide what she wants to ask him! lol meanwhile Eddie is just “🤨…😍”

Horror Movies & Chill by @eiightysixbaby (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.

Satanic Panic by @hand-candy-writing

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “you encounter eddie munson in the cafeteria during his satanic panic rant, but quickly distract him from his tirade.”

Happy Hours (Series, Ongoing) by @bangaveragewhitewine (18+ Only)

Pairing: Bouncer!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader Summary: When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break. A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

Simmer (Series, Completed) by @upsidedownwithsteve

Pairing: Linecook!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “welcome to hawkins’ number one diner! where the staff don’t wanna be there and the linecook is a grumpy metal head who likes to argue with his boss and ignore everyone else. but the new waitress can’t hack the rude customers and the regulars can be a little… much.”

Pretty Eyes by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hii!! ok so you know that scene when Eddie is first introduced in Season 4 episode 1 where he’s exclaiming out things about conforming to society, and he’s jumping off the table and whatnot?? i was wondering if you could do something where Eddie ends up bumping into a girl while he’s moving around so dramatically, and instead of calling him a freak like he expects, she shyly apologizes for running into him when it was clearly his fault. He’d be the type to be so confused and yet go “Guys I’m in love-”😂

Bruises by @lonelysatellites (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Working the bar in an underground bare knuckle boxing club, reader meets the new fighter on the block, a wiry, charming metal head.”

Don’t Call Me ‘Baby’ (Series, Completed) by @katyswrites (18+ Only)

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would both tell yourselves, later on. It had started with a bet. You were a cocktail waitress, studying abroad in Rome and working yourself to death to keep yourself afloat. Steve Harrington was a business executive for one of the biggest tech companies in the world, ten years your senior, and earnest enough that it intrigued you. But, there was only one problem - he doesn’t do relationships. Not now, perhaps not ever. So, a deal is struck - something mutually beneficial. No attachments, and you get to be his perpetual mistress, while he makes sure you want for nothing. But, what happens when the agreement becomes more than what either of you bargained for?”

Same Old Song and Dance (Mini-Series, Completed) by @m0llygunn (18+ Only)

Pairing: Bully!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Eddie’s teased and taunted you for the last decade of your life but you’re not innocent. It’s always been a game, a dance if you will.”

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leothil · 4 months

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fic recs: archive edition 26

We're back! I have been so Tired for several days now, but I scraped together enough extra energy to put together a list for this week as well.

Previous posts can be found here!

I get this feeling I'm in motion (a sudden sense of liberty) by Anonymous (@buddienights) Back in early December 2021 season 5A was just about to wrap up. Ryan posted a teaser pic to his instagram account, featuring a new haircut, that he labeled "Stage 4 Eddie Diaz" and the fandom went off the rails. @like-the-rest-of-la jumped in and made it worse better via some amazing fanart and inspired this "how is Buck supposed to have a chill night out when Eddie shows up looking like THAT" fic! 3.6k words, rated E

Teardrops Could be Bottled by @princessfbi Photographer!Eddie, model!Buck AU that I am absolutely obsessed with! The prose is so dreamlike it feels like you're floating the whole way through, and they're so lovingly reimagined in this new reality that you'd believe this is where they originated. 15.5k words, rated E

that where'd-the-water-go love by iphigenias (@oatflatwhite) Buck kissed Eddie on a Tuesday, and now it's Friday and they have an evening off and their kid away at a sleepover, and Eddie really, really wants to have sex with him. This is so incredibly cute and all-consuming, and so tender it almost feels like I'm intruding on their private moment. 3.3k words, rated E

you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes by lecornergirl (@clusterbuck) Buck and Eddie play pool at the firehouse and do their best to distract each other. I got reminded of this one while looking up the stage four Eddie pic, because I remembered Emma writing this while we were waiting for 5x10 to air. Since I was sitting next to her, my hand got appropriated to check for proper cue-holding positions. 1.2k words, rated T

i'd spend a lifetime giving you my heart by hammersmiths (@henswilsons) Different first meeting, where Buck and Eddie meet while trapped under a building after an earthquake and they keep each other alive. Delicious hurt/comfort! 10.4k words, rated T

Enjoy, and remember to leave the authors kudos and comments if you enjoy their work!

#911 fic #buddie fic #911 fic rec #buddie fic rec #911 fanfiction #buddie fanfiction #fic rec #frida's archive project

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loumandivorce · 13 days

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iwtv fanfic friday, danlou

happy iwtv fanfic friday! last week i did loumand fic recs, this week is a bunch of really good danlou! he (daniel) is going to fuck that old man (louis).

See What Happens by shavir_light, e

So this is happening. This extremely stupid, thrilling professional and personal mistake that he’s making with the 100-year-old serial killer he’s supposed to be interviewing. Daniel steels himself – it’s happening, and he’s in it, and there’s no point in turning back now. He has to see where it goes. Daniel stumbles into a game he doesn't understand.

mindfuck by flowerplots, weathermood, e

Daniel’s fantasizing about Louis takes an unexpected turn.

sweet words and fevers by glasslilies, m

Daniel and Louis catch up after Dubai. “In the interest of complete transparency,” Louis said, “I’m not really sure what I’m getting myself into here.” “It’s just a tape, man,” Daniel said. “No tricks, I promise. I’ve even canned the middle guy—we’re doing it without all the complicated tech this time. Think of it as a last hurrah. The book’s gone to print. There’s no catch.”

culture bound, m

"So, yeah," Daniel had said, before when he presented the idea to Louis a few nights prior, "it's basically shotgunning. I drink from some poor human's carotid and then you drink from me while I'm still feeding from them. Easy enough?" He grins even then, for maximum impact. Newly turned Daniel convinces Louis to try human drugs again and then makes it better.

Or an angel by malicewithheld, e

He had woken, disorientated and ravenous, to Louis standing silently at the end of the bed. “Hello Danny,” he’d smiled, and Daniel’s heart had kicked like a fucking drum. Two good nights in Dubai.

when i arrive at my pre-ordained place by skvadern, e

"Oh, my poor boy." The voice comes from far above him, and Daniel can't even spit on him for a condescending bastard; the pain in those words is too clear. "My poor, poor boy." This time, Louis cleans up after Armand.

happy friday!

#iwtv #iwtv fanfic friday #fanfic friday #danlou #og post

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dunefandomhub · 6 months

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Fic Rec Friday!

Each week I rec 3-4 fics from across the Duneverse featuring a different ship or theme each time!

I am open to taking suggestions/reccomendations at any time! Feel free to send an ask!

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen X Reader Fics

Turn the Inner Eye by @barbiedragon

Feyd-Rautha x Concubine!Reader

The Bene Gesserit trust in you to fulfill the prophecy

one-shot 1.8k words

Rated E

Thrown to the Wolves Series by @sansaorgana

Feyd-Rautha x fem!reader/Atreides!OC

After receiving the news from the Emperor about moving to Arrakis, Duke Leto suspects the upcoming war with the Harkonnens. His daughter's marriage with the Baron's heir is supposed to create an alliance and ensure his family's safety. Previously sheltered and protected Princess Atreides must now face the harsh reality on her own.

9 Parts

Diplomatic Relations by @lady-phasma

Feyd-Rautha x GN!Reader

No physical description of reader. Feyd is on a diplomatic tour of an unnamed planet (not Caladan) under Harkonnen rule. You catch his eye, smuttiness ensues. Plot if you squint.

one-shot 4k words

Princess by @valeskafics

Feyd x Corrino!Reader

Feyd Rautha makes it his mission to seduce you, the innocent younger sister of Princess Irulan.

one-shot 3.5k

DUBCON Dark Fic

#fic rec friday #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #x reader #fic rec #dune #dune fanfiction

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veryace-ficrecs · 5 months

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Duke Thomas Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Stuck-On Sunshine by zodarii_dae - Rated G

The Signal tends to interact with kids a bit more than his nocturnal coworkers. Even in Gotham, there are more kids out at two pm than two am. Those kids want to show their appreciation for the hero keeping them safe. What better way to show that than with stickers?

A Special Expection? No, A Son by Raccoonwriter - Rated T

Duke was excited to meet the Justice League until they start to ask and talk about things Duke didn't want to here.

breathing down your neck by Batbirdies - Rated G

Duke gets sick on Friday. Joker breaks out of Arkham on Saturday. It’s radio silence, until it’s not. — When Duke is benched with the flu the Joker attacks a small Gotham neighborhood with Joker venom. Duke knows he’s not well enough to help, but with stinging memories of his parents still trapped in their own heads—he has to do something. Bruce has a few things to say about that.

Frightening, But Not Afraid by snackbaskets - Rated G

When the family is hit by a new strain of fear toxin, safety is in numbers. Unfortunately, three members of the flock are still out there, afraid and alone. Bruce may not be the best at comforting his children, but apparently, he can let his wings do the talking. ((aka, the classic fear toxin hurt/comfort but with a splash of the classic wings-make-u-feel-safe hurt/comfort))

birds and brothers and other assorted synonyms by hoebiwan - Rated T

Duke isn’t an idiot. He knows it’s a bad idea to go into the underground tunnels of Gotham where people disappear for years on end and occasionally (if they’re lucky) stumble out coated in cobwebs and madness and blood. So he takes a flashlight and a water bottle and a bag of trail mix and lots and lots of beef jerky whenever he goes. If he ends up trapped down there, wandering in hopeless circles (which Duke thinks is important to note having never happened), at least he’ll have food. Also, the weird little kid dressed up like a miniature Talon likes the M&M’s in Duke’s trail mix.

the scientific method by orphan_account - Rated G

5 stupid ways Duke's siblings discovered how his powers worked, and 1 time he figured it out for himself.

"You have no idea," Dick said. "I had to live through all of their teenage years. They were each independently obsessed with Mythbusters at separate points in their life. I'm pretty sure Cass and Tim have wanted a meta to experiment on since they were 14, but Bruce always said no."

Duke Thomas Hates Bullies by Gemini_00 - Not Rated

Everyone loves that Duke Thomas isn't like all those other crazy Waynes. Everyone loves that the Signal isn't trying to get himself killed. Duke may not see Bruce as his dad, but he is definitely part of the bat family. and nobody is going to bully his family. Or, Duke Thomas Kicks Ass.

Keep Your Head, Your Backbone, and Your Heart by MrMich - Rated T

The last thing that Duke expected on what was supposed to be just a regular patrol was being suddenly thrown five years into the past, coming face to face with a darker, more violent Batman than the one he knew, a broken family, and a Tim who was a foot shorter than Duke, and not even Robin yet.

A silent shadow flitted past him, just barely visible on the cave walls. He went rigid, tracking the shadow in the corner of his vision. And then he dropped to the floor, just in time, as a familiar black gloved fist passed overhead. He just barely missed being hit by the punishing blow that would have landed right on his temple for a sure concussion if he hadn’t dodged. “Batman?” Duke yelled. He somersaulted forward, just barely avoiding another strike. “B, what are you doing?!” “Who are you,” came the growled response. A shiver crawled down Duke’s spine at the grim hostility in Batman’s voice that promised violence, and something tightened in the back of his throat.

WHEN EARTH FINDS STARS. by orpheusaki - Rated G

"Let it be known that I completely detest the implications of what this situation is mirroring," Red Hood grumbles to himself and it's the longest string of words Duke has heard from any so-called Gotham vigilante, let alone the one who's known for shooting more than he is talking. "The fuck?" Duke mutters, because if he's already going to die, he might as well try and make sense of it. "I'm not going to care about whatever sob story you have," is what Red Hood replies with instead of explaining, "Where are your parents?" "Gone," is all Duke says, because it's really none of this guy's business. It's also the truth. Somehow, Red Hood sounds even more anguished about this information than Duke is, "Ah shit." (Duke steals the tires off Red Hood's bike and somehow gains a family.)

Leadership by PepperSoniRoni - Rated G

Nightwing offers Signal a chance to lead a small group for a mission. Duke is wary, but accepts the challenge. He proves to be a rather great leader.

Takes place after Season Two of Young Justice, and ignores Season Three (I still haven’t seen it, unfortunately).

You Would Not Believe Your Eyes by Tiptapricot - Rated G

No metas are allowed in Gotham, so what does that mean for Duke?

Dayshift Shadow Work by IzzyMRDB - Rated G

So, when he realised one day once he looked down that he was missing his shadow, the first thing he checked was to make sure he wasn’t also glowing. Can’t have a shadow if you’re the light source after all. Nope, not glowing. Weird. AKA Duke's shadow works like Peter Pan's and immediately chooses violence

Runs in the Family by motleyfam - Rated G

Duke has a migraine and just wants a bit of peace. Tim understands this better than most.

The League of Assassins: An Indepth Exploration of the World's Most Prolific Group of Assassins by Hint_of_Elation - Rated T

Duke Thomas presents a documentary about the League of Assassins. Warning: Bruce Wayne did not approve this film.

Tequila by Sohotthateveryonedied - Rated T

Bruce steps into Duke’s path, blocking him from venturing further into the house. It takes a moment for Duke to register the new obstacle before him. His mouth drags into a lopsided grin. “Bruce! Wha’s—wassup? How’s your night goin’?” “You’re drunk," Bruce accuses. “Me? No way. No way. I would never do that.” Duke hiccups. “Totally sober.”

Who, Me? by Listentothelittlebird - Rated T

People thought Duke was the responsible one. People often forgot Duke ran with a gang. A gang named after Robin, sure, but a gang nonetheless.

bathtub cookie crumbs by ghostellie - Rated G

Duke finds him in a bathtub on the third floor. It’s an old fashioned thing, a clawfoot porcelain tub settled in an otherwise empty room in a far, abandoned corner of the manor, dusty despite Alfred’s best efforts. Tim’s seated at an awkward angle, sideways in the tub with his head rested on one edge and his knees slung over the other, fully clothed and half covered in dust. A pink box of sugar cookies, no doubt stolen from Jason’s stash, rests on his chest. He meets Duke’s eyes as he enters, shoveling a bat-shaped cookie in his mouth.

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype by PepperSoniRoni - Rated T

5 Times Duke Tried To Prove To Bruce He Wasn't The Responsible One, and 1 Time His Siblings Knew Better (& used it to their advantage) Because Duke is relatively new, he hasn't opened up completely to the family. He tries to follow Bruce and Alfred's rules, but he doesn't always succeed (nor try to). It's during these times Bruce still manages to pin the blame on someone else. His siblings, of course, see this. And whatever are they supposed to think? Well, Duke's clearly doing it on purpose! (This is really just me being salty about fanon characterization, and an attempt to cram as much Crazy-Totally-Not-Sane-Duke as I can into a single fic)

that which you cannot bear by britishparty - Rated T

There is no backup for the Signal. Duke reminds himself of this regularly, like a prayer through gritted teeth: there's no one to catch him if he slips, to replace him if he stops. So the Signal can't give up. Just can't, like an immutable law, an undeniable truth. He has to win every fight. There isn't any other option. Duke Thomas makes himself invincible. Untouchable. Then he loses.

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blossomwritesthings · 2 years

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Hyunjin sickfic when. *folds arms waiting patiently* 🤭

I love your writing sm I’m gonna cry

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. hospital visit. this one's got angst in it. reader is sick (with a sprained ankle). hyunjin is worried af, as he should be lmao. reader has low self-esteem w/her dancing abilities, and has difficulty opening up about how she truly feels. pet names (affectionately). toothe-rotting fluff.

word count: 6.3k (yikes got carried away with this one wtf)

summary: it's been proving to be very difficult to keep the dance class that you take three times a week a secret from your boyfriend hyunjin. and the lies only become even harder to tell when you suddenly hurt your foot during class one night.

a/n: originally, i was planning on posting this yesterday as a kind of valentine's day gift for you guys, but then uni homework raw-dogged me like a total bitch and i got fucked over with a horrible migraine later in the night... i love my life!!! 😊 anyways, this was really fun to write- i FUCKING ADORE SOFT HYUNJIN!!! 😭 thanks for requesting, @hyungenie5... i hope this little piece of writing is to your liking, and thanks for your support~ 🤍

🤎 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

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The dance class was supposed to remain a secret. No one - not even your boyfriend Hyunjin - was supposed to know that you were taking it until it was long over in the summer. By the end of the class, you hoped that your skills would improve immensely and that you’d be able to join your boyfriend in the studio some time to dance with him.

But unfortunately, those grand plans all came to a halt late one Friday night.

When you were practicing a certain twirl that had been giving you a hard time for the past week. For some reason, one of the laces of your sneakers had come undone. And this prompted you to trip over it when you suddenly came out of the spin.

You landed on the ground in a heap of limbs, clenching down hard on your jaw at the feel of a sharp pain shooting through your left ankle. The ache was agonizing, and it took everything in you to not scream out in anguish at the feeling that had quickly exploded inside your ankle.

Soon, your classmates rushed over and helped you off of the floor and onto a nearby bench, where your teacher took a look at your foot.

“It doesn’t look too bad, it’s just a bit swollen from the impact,” she said, peering up at you, a sheen of sweat glistening across her exposed forehead. It was sweltering in the practice room at the gym where you were taking the lessons, and everyone crowding around you was out of breath from the routine that the class had been practicing tirelessly for the last month or so. “I’d advise you to keep off of it as much as you can for the next few days and ice it every night. Don’t come into class Monday and instead give it a rest, and it should be better by the next session on Wednesday.” Your teacher instructed you, before giving your knee a gentle squeeze and going back to a group of students who needed her advice on a certain move. You had class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday late in the night, but surprisingly, the sessions were always packed with wannabe dancers, even late into the night. It just proved how many people desperately wanted to become better dancers. And you were one of those ‘people.’

“Can you make it to your car alone?” One of your classmates asked. You looked up at Yejun, offering her a smile that quickly turned into a grimace of pain. You had met her soon after you started the class, and the two of you had grown closer over the past few months.

But no one knew who you were dating - who your boyfriend of three years was. They couldn’t know, otherwise, that would jeopardize everything Hyunjin did for work and your entire livelihood. So, you mostly stayed silent about the intimate details of your personal life with everyone else and opted to talk about the surface-level things in your life.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can do it,” you laughed in a humorless kind of way. Without another word, Yejun was picking up the large duffle bag that you always brought with you to practice. Then, she was slipping an arm around your waist and leading you out of class and through the spacious gym. It was still relatively busy even for it being so late in the night on a Friday.

“You promise that you’re gonna rest?” She rose a black, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way as you shuffled out of the main doors of the gym.

And even though you had only known her for a few months, she could get a pretty good read on you. How you didn’t like asking people for help and how you tended to bottle things up all of the time. You had done such a thing since you were a very little girl, and you supposed there was no changing the way your mind was built. Even still, this aspect of your personality drove Hyunjin insane. He’d pry and pry and pry for you to tell him what was truly wrong with you, and it’d take more than just a few kisses and gentle words to finally get you to talk. It didn’t matter who you were with - who you were talking to - you just… couldn’t talk about really personal stuff most of the time.

“Yeah, yeah- I’ll rest all this weekend.” You rolled your eyes at Yejun as you stopped just in front of your car. You pulled out your keys, unlocking the doors before throwing your duffle bag into the backseat.

“Okay, well… drive safe and take it easy, yeah?” She mumbled, pulling you into a gentle hug, and you gave her a quick pat on the back before pulling away. “See you on Wednesday?”

You flashed her a playful wink, “Sure thing!” You waved her off as you slipped into the driver’s seat of your car. Your friend returned the gesture before she turned around and jogged back into the gym.

As soon as she was out of sight, you let out the moan of misery that you had been holding in for the last few minutes. The pain seemed to shoot through your ankle in quick increments, traveling up the length of your leg and pooling in your knee.

Holding onto the steering wheel with a death-like grip, you took a few deep breaths. The ache wouldn’t be this bad forever. You just needed to ice it. Just follow what your teacher told you to do, and you’ll be fine. You said all of these things and more to yourself inside your head as you turned your key in the car's socket and the car’s ignition roared to light.

Just get home and get in bed, and then everything will be alright.

But everything was not alright.

This was made so apparent when you stood in front of your apartment door and the remembrance dawned on you that Hyunjin had the entire weekend off. So that meant that he would be home earlier than he usually would be on a Friday night. And since it was a quarter-past-eleven at night, he was sure to be home.

Fuck.

It had already been an entire production getting out of your car and into your apartment’s elevator, what with your limping form and all. But now you had to face your very own boyfriend, who wasn’t even aware that you were taking a dance class in the first place. You wanted it to be a surprise for him. You had always been self-conscious about your dance skills ever since you were a little girl.

And then you went ahead and started dating one of the best dancers in all of the Kpop industry. As a consequence, your self-esteem in the dancing department tanked astonishingly low. You’d regularly join Hyunjin in the studio late at night at the company, and sometimes he’d try to teach you some of Stray Kids choreo. But most of the time, you made a complete fool of yourself, and instead opted to just watch him from the sidelines. Watch in silence, offering praise when you could, about how perfect his angles were, how amazing his technique was, and how his flow and rhythm were impeccable with the music.

Meanwhile, deep inside your mind, you were playing the same thought over and over again; why can’t you just be a better dancer like him? Why can you just not suck at it, for once in your damn life? He probably thinks your horrible, and he’s right… no wonder why he stopped offering you teach you.

But in the new year, finally feeling fed up from always feeling shitty when your boyfriend would show you a video of his dance practices, or when you’d watch him in the studio, you decided to sign up for the beginner's contemporary dance class at your local gym.

It was daunting, at first, to go by yourself without knowing anyone there, but soon, you got used to the feeling and genuinely started to enjoy your time spend in the studio. It was hard work, that was for sure, but you liked the idea of finally finishing it in the early spring and then surprising your amazingly-talented dancer boyfriend with the choreo that you had learned and practiced tirelessly for the past few months, unbeknownst to him.

To keep the class a secret from Hyunjin, you had lied and told him that you were going to the local gym and lifting weights. And it wasn’t a complete lie, because technically, you were at the gym. You just weren’t lifting any weights.

Nevertheless, Hyunjin had been hesitant about the idea. Especially since you would be coming and going so late at night. At first, he had protested against it because of how many creeps could be hanging around the gym that late at night. He didn’t want you willingly putting yourself in any danger from being out so late alone. But, after much negotiation and pleading on your part, you had managed to convince him to be okay with it. And then, you were off… attending the class three times a week and absorbing the lessons like a little ocean sponge out in deep sea waters.

You gathered up all of the courage you still had inside of you as you shuffled across the apartment’s threshold. A couple of the lights were left on in the living room, and dim classical music was filtering out through the nearby room to the right of you. Hyunjin’s art studio. The two of you had chosen this specific apartment to rent out because it offered two bedrooms, and the space that he wanted to make his office had an amazing, large bay window that showcased a huge portion of Seoul's cityscape. The view in there was breathtaking and was the key inspiration for a lot of his recent art pieces.

A sigh of relief fled from your lips as you dropped your duffle bag down on the nearby dining room table and made to get some ice for your foot. Your entire body was sticky from your dried sweat, and you longed to hop into the shower for a nice cool-off. Just as soon as you ice your ankle.

Just as you were filling up a small plastic bag of ice, you heard a door open behind you. Then, in a few beats, you felt two long arms wrap around your waist from behind. If you weren’t in so much pain at that moment, you would’ve been happy to feel Hyunjin’s presence at your back. But mostly, you just felt exhausted and irritable. And these were two things that didn’t mix well together.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he muttered, as he leaned down with his tall frame to pepper gentle kisses against your shoulder. “How was your workout?”

“Fine, I guess.” You said in a slightly-dismissive tone, as you finished filling up your baggie with ice.

“And why in the world are you filling up a plastic bag with ice?”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his question. Because in your state of discomfort and exhaustion, you hadn’t thought out the lie that you would have to tell him for why you could barely fucking walk. And you definitely couldn’t tell him to the extent that the pain was at. But there was no getting around the fact that you had hurt yourself, so better to tell a small white lie than ignore it entirely.

“I, uh- kinda hurt my foot when I was working out with weights tonight, but I’m okay.” You said, trying to keep your voice light and airy.

Immediately as the words fell from your lips, Hyunjin was turning you around. His eyes raked over your face, assessing your neutral expression before flitting down to the rest of your body. Like he’d be able to see any other injuries you hadn’t told him about if he looked hard enough.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His brows were furrowed in worry, the concern blatantly shining in his dark brown eyes. His fingers brushed across your cheek, before tucking a few stray, sweaty strands of your hair behind your ear.

You gave him a soft smile, leaning up to ruffle his fluffy, peachy-pink hair a little bit. “Yes babe, I’m fine.”

“Then, you should rest and use the ice pack.”

You gave him a sardonic grin, “That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped my plans and started to grill me with questions.”

He slipped his arms from your hips and reluctantly stepped away from your frame to allow you space to continue your routine. But not before he leaned down into you with his towering form and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. And if your foot didn’t currently hurt like a bitch, you probably would’ve melted into his embrace and let him hold and kiss you for a long time after that. Instead, you just felt like a sweaty ball of painful shit and wanted to hop into bed as soon as possible.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything…” Hyunjin’s delicate voice stayed with you in the kitchen, as he trekked back to the door to his office.

You quickly grabbed a kitchen dish towel to use to wrap around your bag of ice. “Alright. I’m going to take a quick shower and then head to bed.”

“I’ll be there in a little while,” your boyfriend said, and when you looked up at him, he was giving you this sweet, pure look of devotion. But it was also mixed with a tad bit of unease. He never did like the idea of you being injured in any way. “Try to get some rest, yeah?”

“Sure, baby,” you flashed him a wink, “but only if you come to bed relatively early tonight.” It seemed like he was always slipping into bed late these days… curling up behind you well past three in the morning. He proclaimed that it was only because inspiration struck him the strongest late into the night, and while you weren’t one to stand between an artist and their craft, there had to be a better solution for inspiration than ruining his entire sleep schedule.

“I'll sure try, sweetheart.” Hyunjin’s soft voice followed behind you, as you made your way to your shared bedroom.

At least you weren’t the only one who told lies in the relationship.

The next day, your foot hurt like a literal bitch all day long. The pain wasn’t too bad after you first woke up, and upon icing it for a little while, it felt somewhat better. But then you went about the apartment doing the chores that you usually did every Saturday, and the discomfort returned tenfold.

At one point, it was so bad that when you sat down on the living room couch for a few minutes to give it a rest, you could barely get up again. And when you untucked your sock after lunch, you noticed how your left foot was looking a little… discolored. Some parts of your ankle were grayed, and a tiny bit of swelling was present too. But you had hurt it in dance, so that was to be expected.

You tried to hide the agony that you were in from your boyfriend, but being the perceptive man that he was, he automatically picked up on it. After all, he had become attuned over the years to understanding when you were feeling shitty since it took you so long to admit to him how you were feeling. Throughout the day, he’d ask you if you were okay and force you to sit down for a few minutes to ice the hurting foot.

But it was after dinner that he finally decided to put his foot down about the whole thing. He had dragged you over to the living room couch, practically throwing you onto the plush cushions before plopping down beside you.

“And what gives you the right to think you can throw me around like your own personal rag doll?” You asked, playfulness dripping from your tone. You turned to him and rose a quizzical eyebrow his way as he turned on the tv and flipped through Netflix to find a movie to watch. The usual thing that you two liked to do every Saturday night; was curl up on the couch and get all cozy with each other. The movie nights either ended in one of two ways, cuddling until you both fell asleep right then and there, or making out and soon traveling into the bedroom for a long night of fun.

“I’m forcing you to take a break, that’s what I’m doing,” he leveled you with a serious face, a slight frown pulling his mouth downwards.

You folded your arms across your chest defensively, “I don’t need a break, babe. I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Well then, I guess I’ve just been imagining all of the pained faces that you’ve been making all day, or that perpetual furrow in your brow that you always get when you’re holding something in?” Hyunjin said, voice completely flat. Just then he reached out to you, wrapping a long arm around your waist and yanking you close to his side before tucking a fuzzy blanket around the two of you.

“I’m not furrowing my brows.” You said defensively, even though you had given up on fighting him any longer. Honestly, you were a little too tired from all of the hurt and activity of the day to care. So you snuggled deeper against him, slinging your arms around his waist and breathing in his scent of fresh linen and sweet roses. “And besides, the apartment needed cleaning. A bad foot wasn’t going to stop me from completing my mission.” You had taken some pain medication soon after lunch, but since it was late into the night, it had worn off. You’d have to take some before you went to bed, but it didn’t seem to help that much, since you had still been in pain even after taking it in the middle of the day.

“Just shut up and relax, will ya?” Your boyfriend all but grumbled, as he finally selected some random thriller to watch. You hid your smile behind your blanket as you felt him lean down and press a few kisses atop the crown of your head. “Just want you to feel better, my love…”

You turned your head up on his shoulder so that you were staring right into his expressive dark-brown eyes. “And I already do feel better just with your kisses alone.” A smirk spread across your mouth, as you leaned into him and your mouths met again in a soft kiss.

Your boyfriend motioned with his head to the flashing tv screen in front of the two of you, “Now, let’s focus on the movie so that you can get your mind off of the discomfort.”

A few giggles escaped from deep inside of you at his serious tone. He truly did care a lot about you and your well-being. And so that’s why you didn’t want to tell him how bad the pain was. Because you knew that as soon as you told him, he’d get himself all worked up into a tizzy and obsess over your health until you were back to one-hundred-and-twenty percent. Would practically nurse you back to health, ignoring all of his other duties at the company until he could confirm with his own two eyes that his girlfriend was feeling much better than before.

So you stayed silent, refraining from revealing to him how much agony you truly were in from your foot alone. You turned your attention to the movie in front of you.

And the feel of his long, muscular arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing slightly, the comforting sense of his warm body just beside yours, did wonders to the pain. It worked better than any of the medicine in the entire world, and you soon found yourself completely ignoring and forgetting the ache that was shooting through your foot and up into your veins and instead was basking in the feel and smell of your very loving boyfriend.

“Sweetheart, do you want to stop and take a rest for a minute?” Hyunjin asked you in a gentle voice the next day. What with it being Sunday and since the two of you were still off from work, you had decided to spend the day out on the town - shopping around.

You two had already eaten a sweet breakfast of pastries and coffee at a local cafe and were currently walking the streets of Hongdae, in search of a matching set of hoodies that fit both of your styles perfectly. So far, you had had no luck at the boutiques that you had already searched. The fuzzy hoodies were either too frilly or too plain...

You shook your head vehemently, “No, I’m fine… don’t worry about me.” But you knew you telling him that would only make him worry even more. Since your foot only hurt even worse when you woke up early that morning. The pain throbbed up your leg now, and it felt like somehow was grasping harshly at your left ankle bone every time you walked on it, rattling the thing bitterly.

You were practically limping pathetically at your boyfriend's side, desperate hands clutching at his arm to stop you from completely toppling over into a pile of weak limbs right there. Because that’s what you were feeling at that exact moment; weak.

Hyunjin ran a frustrated hand through his peachy-pink locks, an exasperated sigh flooding from his lips, “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to us going out today-” He started to grumble beside you.

Just then, the two of you stepped over a particular area of sidewalk that was somewhat cracked in the middle. And of course, your left shoe - your bad foot - just had to get caught in the tiny space there. Immediately, your body hurled to the ground as you grasped for your boyfriend. Thankfully, he caught you just in time before you hit the asphalt, pulling you up onto your feet again.

And when you stood straight once more, the agony only intensified even more so. Feeling so overwhelmed by it, and so, so weary with sudden despair, a tiny cry escaped past your lips as your legs gave out from underneath you. Toppling onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion, the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks.

Hyunjin was already crouching at your side, one arm wrapped around your waist. “Darling, what’s wrong-” He began, the worry seeping from his tone.

“It’s hurts, Hyunjin… like, a lot…” You managed to get out in between your sobs. Your vision was blurry from your tears, cheeks warm to the touch at the embarrassment of feeling others' eyes on you as they passed by on the street.

But not another word needed to be spoken, as you were soon being lifted into your boyfriend’s arms. And a moment later, he was gently placing you down on a nearby bench.

He was then crouching in front of your feet, gently grasping at your left foot and holding it out to him slowly. “Can I take a look at it, sweetheart?” He asked you with all of the tenderness in the world. The look in his eyes then- one of pure apprehension and heartache did something funny to your heart and only made you cry even harder. You nodded your head in silent approval.

Heart beating wildly inside your chest, you waited, and watched in bated since, as your boyfriend gingerly slipped off your thin sneaker. With thin, nimble fingers, he slid your baby-blue sock down and off of your foot.

And the moment he saw what lay underneath, he gasped audibly. Your foot was steadily turning purple and blue and was swollen all around the ankle. Eyes completely focused on your foot, Hyunjin turned your foot from either side, inspecting it diligently.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of looking at it, he stared up at you with wide eyes. The heartbreaking look in them told you all you needed to know- the way that his lips slightly fell open in his surprise, jaw clenching in anger. “B-Baby, has it looked like this since you got home from the gym on Friday?” His fingers gently swept over the bone that was slightly protruding out to the side near your ankle.

The tears had begun to slow down, leaving wet trails down either of your heated cheeks. Sniffling, you meekly nodded your head yes in answer. “Why? Is it that bad?”

A deep crease formed between his dark brows, and his blush-pink hair blew in the cool February breeze that suddenly swept across the streets at that moment. “Sweetheart, this looks really- really bad,” his eyes flitted down to your foot again, which he was still holding in one of his palms. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries, and I know the signs… honey, I think you’ve sprained it.”

Your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. “W-What? But… how could that be? It’s not like I-” Your voice took on an incredulous tone, but before you could say anything else, your boyfriend was moving your foot again, turning it slightly so that he could slip your sock back on. You hissed in discomfort, biting down hard on your bottom lip to quell the moan that wanted to bubble up and out of you just then. The pain was unbearable.

Your boyfriend stood up from the ground, fitting two hands around your waist and helping you rise from the bench. He slipped an arm around your hips, securing you to his side as you slowly began to shuffle down the street, going backward from the way you had just come from. “C’mon, we gotta get you to the hospital.” He said, leading you two away from the shops that you had been at for the last few hours.

“Hospital? No- that’s not necessary, I just need to… rest at home, that’s all…” Your voice trailed off as another wave of pain throbbed through your tender foot.

Hyunjin leveled you with a glare. “It’s either you come with me willingly, or I carry you in my arms bridal style. Either way, you’re fucking going to the hospital.” The way he said the last of his words in that deathly-low tone sent a chill down your spine. Because you knew it all too well since he’d only use it on you when you were being particularly stubborn. And almost always, it was during a time when you weren’t taking any regard for your health, and Hyunjin had to force you to do the things necessary to practically stay alive.

“O-Okay…” You whispered. You struggled along beside him, fingers holding on tight to his thick brown winter jacket. “Just… don’t let go?” You stared up at him with big eyes, lip quivering a little bit from the pain of having to walk and put pressure on your bruised foot.

“Never, sweetheart.” He brought you closer to him then, practically wrapping both arms around your waist and helping you along the sidewalk as you slowly made your way back to his car.

“Well, you have a sprained ankle,” the nurse told you a few hours later. She was a rather short, petite-looking woman, with long, black hair swept up into a tight braid at the back of her head. “You’ll need to diligently rest for the next… four to six weeks. The doctor suggested using an ice pack for twenty minutes a few times a day, to help with the swelling.”

After you and Hyunjin had left Hongdae, it was only a matter of time before he found the nearest hospital and checked you into the Emergency Room there. After waiting for a little over an hour, you were finally called back into one of the exam rooms. It merely took the nurse and doctor one look at your ankle to confirm that it was sprained. After the doctor’s assessment, the nurse filed back into the room to hand you some paperwork to fill out.

During the entire visit, Hyunjin was sitting beside your hospital bed in a small chair, clutching onto your hand as you awaited the news of your diagnosis. He let out a sigh of relief at the news of it only being a sprain since he had been worrying that it was broken instead.

“And don’t walk on it,” the nurse continued, as she handed you a bottle of prescribed high-dosage pain medications. “I understand that it will be difficult to assimilate to a less active lifestyle for some time, but please remember that if you walk on it, doing so can put you at risk for horrible complications in the future and hinder you from achieving a full recovery.”

“I understand, thank you so much,” you said, giving her a soft smile as you fit the bottle of pain meds into your nearby purse. Your boyfriend was still clutching onto your hand, fingers squeezing a little too tightly as you positioned yourself back on the bed.

"I’ll give you two a few minutes, and then come back to assist you in checking out at the front desk.” The nurse returned your smile and bowed slightly at you and Hyunjin before making her way out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Immediately, your boyfriend turned to you with a deep frown. “And you’ve been walking on a sprained ankle for the past… three days.” He shook his head in disapproval, running a frantic hand through your hair. “Honestly, Y/N, I don’t understand why you do this to yourself- why you do it to me…”

Training your focus down at your lap, your fingers absently played with a loose strand from your thick winter sweater. “It’s not like I mean to not tell you stuff. It just… happens.”

“And you said you got this from lifting weights at the gym?”

His question forced your head to shoot up without you even thinking about it, eyes locking with his as he sat just beside you in his tiny vinyl chair. “Y-Yeah… I must’ve used the barbell wrong or something.” You laughed a little anxiously, heart beating painfully against your ribcage.

Because he couldn’t find out. It was downright embarrassing to think about him knowing you had been taking dance classes. But you also wanted to keep it a surprise for him, when you eventually performed your routine for him - not like that would happen anytime soon though, since you would be on bed rest for the foreseeable future.

Hyunjin brought his hand away from yours then, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly, crossing his legs together and giving you a knowing look. “I call bullshit. You don’t get a strained ankle from lifting a few pounds.”

“And how do you know that, mister?”

“Because I’ve seen the guys get injured from lifting before, but it never has to do with their ankles.”

“Well, maybe I’m the exception.”

“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” his voice came out a little cold just then, eyes raking over your form, studying your face to gauge your emotions at that moment. “Tell me what happened on Friday night.”

The embarrassment overtook you again, and you ripped your eyes from his. Focusing once more on your hands, you twisted the end of your sweater around your fingers. There wasn’t any use in keeping the ruse up any longer. It’s not like you’d be dancing the routine any time soon. So, you finally gave in and confessed to your boyfriend in a quiet mumble.

He leaned forward, tilting his body close to yours so that he could hear you better. “I didn’t hear that, love. Speak up.”

Clenching your fists in sudden annoyance, you stared at him, already feeling the crimson pooling in your cheeks. “I said- I was taking a dance class, okay?! And I fell and hurt my ankle- the instructor said it would be fine, but obviously, she isn’t a doctor…”

Silence filled the entire room after that, and it was charged with equal amounts of confusion and hurt. “Why in the world are you taking a dance class?”

“Because- I want to be good at dancing…” You exclaimed, staring into Hyunjin's eyes with what you hoped was a fierce expression. “I fucking suck at it- and- and you’re just so amazing, and I… I wanted to surprise you with a routine that I had learned all on my own. But then, I hurt myself, so that’s never gonna happen now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what?” You canted your head to the side, watching as the emotions erupted across your boyfriend's face. First, it was anger, that you had kept such a secret from him for so long, then it was sadness, that you had felt the need to prove yourself in any way to him.

“Say that you suck at dancing,” he began, as he moved forward and clasped either of your hands in his. He brought them close to his mouth, lips hovering near your skin and pressing a few soft kisses to your knuckles. “You’re great at it, baby, don’t doubt yourself. And I was never amazing right off the bat. It took me a long time and lots of hard work to get where I am today.”

“Yeah, but some people are just naturally born with it, and I don’t think I am. So… that’s why I was trying to improve.” You shrugged slowly, a zap of energy coursing through your veins each time Hyunjin pressed a fervent kiss against your hands.

“Well, I always think that improvement is good. But, there has to be a balance. You can’t simply ignore your health just because you want to get better at something.” Your boyfriend said in a calm voice, the warmth of it vibrating on your flesh and softening some hard part inside of you. “And besides, even if you weren’t born with the gift of dance - which I don’t believe to be true - there are still other gifts that you have that are unique and wonderful to you, baby. You shouldn’t compare yourself to me, or anyone else, for that matter.”

You gave him a frown, eyes locked on his mouth that kept nearing your knuckles and pressing kisses there. “I know, but… it’s just hard sometimes, you know? To be dating such a… talented man.”

A tiny sound of pain - of heartbreak - fled from Hyunjin’s mouth then, and suddenly, he was pulling you towards him. Fitting his arms around your waist, he squeezed on tight. In an instant, you melted into the touch, burrowing yourself into the crook of his neck and inhaling his calming, sweet scent.

“I’m so sorry that you’ve felt like this, sweetheart. I had no idea.” He mumbled close to your ear, imprinting a soft kiss against the exposed skin there. “How can I make it up to you, darling? How can I change things, so that you don’t think so poorly of yourself anymore?”

You positioned yourself away from him a tiny bit, offering him a light smile, “Babe, you don’t have to do anything for me. My low self-esteem when it comes to dancing isn’t your fault, so don’t worry about it.”

He leaned in, kissing your lips gently. “Yes, but I don’t like the thought of you feeling so down about your abilities…” his voice trailed off into silence, as he contemplated what he could do for you. “I know- I’m going to nurse you back to health, and when your ankle is completely healed, I’ll help you continue learning that dance routine from your class. How does that sound, love?”

You kissed him back, hot breaths mingling slightly in the passion of the moment. “I’d like that very much, but… don’t you have your schedules?”

Hyunjin waved a nonchalant hand in the air like he didn’t have so many people expecting high standards from him every single day. “I can still help you and do my job, baby- it isn’t rocket science.”

You contemplated his idea over in your head. You hadn’t liked him trying to teach you different dances in the past, but perhaps that was because of your issues and not because of his teaching. And now that your struggles with the thing were out in the open, you got the feeling that your boyfriend would be extra careful when teaching you - treat you extra gently when explaining certain moves.

“Okay, I like the idea,” you decided, nodding your head slowly in approval. A wide smile cracked across your lips as you stared at his face that was alight with happiness and contentment, “When do we start?”

“How does eight weeks from now sound? To give your ankle plenty of time to heal.”

Gently carding a few fingers through his light, peachy-pink silky locks, you bent into him, the smile still plastered onto your face as you gave his mouth another kiss which felt like the hundredth one in the last hour. “Sounds perfect.” You said, and soon he was smirking against your lips, before tightening his grip around your hips, yanking you ever closer to his form, and smashing his mouth against yours in a fiery, loving kiss.

Fin.

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