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4-ln4 · 12 hours ago

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Tis the Damn Season

Hi! This is my first dip back into creative writing in... at least five years. Inspired by Tis the Damn Season by Taylor Swift (as well as some other songs, if you know you know)

Summary: You and Michael grew up together. You dated for years back home until you moved away for work and he started med school. Every year, you return home for the holiday season, always narrowly avoiding your ex, until you can't avoid him anymore.

(Not proof read, just a writing exercise for myself. Possible wrong descriptions of film sets and med school timelines. The ending is weak, I apologize in advance. Fanfic is a bit out of my writing comfort zone so pls be nice!)

Word Count: 3000

Fluff, angst

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The two of you were local legends, celebrities in your own right. Him, an author and emergency medicine physician, and you an awarded actress, however, it didn't start out that way. With time and age, you got busier. He went to undergrad for pre med, not far from your hometown in Pennsylvania. You settled on a liberal arts university a few states away. The distance was… ok at first. Your last ‘normal’ summer at home was when you were 18. Speeding off in his 75’ Ford, you would spend your summer days together at the lake a couple of miles west.

Towards the end of August, the mixture of forgetting to reply to sunblock and salt from the lake's water would bring out the freckles on Michaels cheeks and some lighter streaks in your hair. You loved those freckles, but as time went on, you began to feel sad as you traced your thumb under his eye, down to his lips, their appearance signaling your departure and the sun starting to set a couple of hours earlier.

Soon enough Michael officially was enrolled in medical school and his exams took precedence over your rendezvous, and you had booked the lead in your first television show shortly into the academic calendar. Your work and school kept you out of Pennsylvania for a good bit of the year, and his work had him stuck in Pittsburgh, but like clockwork, when you wrapped up with school or filming for the season, you would fly home through late August.

The air was getting crisp in a salty, breezy way in Downtown Los Angeles. Which meant it was time for you to pack for your flight home for the summer. Your grin was never larger than when he picked you up from the airport, a cheesy “welcome home baby!” sign that he paired with a lopsided grin.

You would giggle, he would pick you up and spin you around, quickly dropping his sign in the process.

“Happy 26th birthday baby” Michael says as he kisses you under your ear. Those dips in the lake became a sacred tradition over the years. It was July 27th now, you've been back in town for a bit over a month. The lake seemed to be your reprieve. The only place in town you could go without pausing for a selfie. As time went on, plants took over the lake, making it unattractive to swim in to most locals, but the greenish hue of the water became your favorite color.

You were both lying on your bellies, his cheek resting on his forearm as you traced mindless shapes on his back, the sun making his skin hot.

“I booked a movie.” You say no louder than the wind that is gently blowing your hair across the corner of his lips.

“What?” that crooked grin makes a show of taking over his face.

“Its a book to screen trilogy, I got the call this morning, right before breakfast”

You are suddenly on your back, little kisses were being placed all over your face, your neck, your collar bones.

“Oh my god! Baby” he whispers into your ear. “I am so proud of you.”

You grin back, pulling his chest flush to your own and holding his cheeks in your hands.

As you brush back a falling strand of his hair your smile twitches down “Filming is in Scotland. I have to fly out there next week.”

He pushes his cheek into your palm “then we better make the most of the next few days, huh?”

You left Pennsylvania in tears, but Michaels encouragement, phone calls, and sometimes, an occasional handwritten letter in the mail kept you afloat…at first. The filming for your trilogy was an intense process that held a rigorous production schedule. You end up buying a home in Scotland, a little A frame home not too far from your usual filming locations.

Michael never visited. But it's not like you flew home to visit either. Your schedule was the exact opposite of his, phone calls on your lunch break were phone calls on his commute home.

Those summers by the lake felt like a distant past, you made a home in Scotland, even after the two and a half years of filming concluded. Michael moved to Pittsburgh to be closer to his hospital. The only time you came home, where both of your schedules half aligned, became the winter holidays season. You would spend two weeks at your parents house, seeing Michael maybe five of those days, if you were lucky. Michael would joke that he wasn't sure why he paid the rising cost of rent when he basically lived at the hospital. You would laugh, but it was the truth. He saw right through your false smiles, just as you saw through his.

“Babe?

“Hm?”

“Move back home.”

You were at the lake, the end of the weekend approaching. His arms around your waste, head resting on top of your own. His puffer jacket and scarf tickle the back of your neck.

“I can't, not yet.”

“Why?”

“You know I'm filming again next month” you had booked another production in Scotland, your career growing.

“You know there's great hospitals by me”

“You know I can't leave…” he sighs into your neck. Michaels residency was all consuming.

You turn to face him, your arms now around his waist. “You can transfer your residency to the U.K., I have no doubts we can find somewhere to take you-”

“I can't just pick up and leave like you, I have responsibilities in Pittsburgh-”

“Oh and I don't have responsibilities in Scotland?” you knew you were being unfair.

He takes a step back from you, eyes looking into yours. “Youre the one who chose to leave, Y/N.”

You take a step back too, feeling the cool winter air fill the space between you.

“It was for work, I-i-i keep booking roles on location there, Michael, you know that I would come home more if I could-”

“I see you once a year now!”

“Well it's a two way street! You haven't come to see me once! I get that you're busy, but-but”

“You know it's not the same.” His voice is as icy as the lake.

Your breakup was not civil. It ended in tears, raised voices, a silent drive to your parents house, and the slam of a truck door. But it wasn't an excuse to miss your yearly flights home. As you got older, so did your parents. It had now been a few years since you had last spoken to Michael. Over the last five or so years, occasionally you would get glimpses of one another at the grocery store, the gas station, or holiday shopping. Those interactions ended as quickly as they started, and what the both of you didn't know was that you both felt the same pinching in your chest as you walked in opposing directions.

What you didn't know was that he had loosely kept up with your career. Watching the TV in the ER’s waiting room with furrowed brows and a sad smile as the local news recaps you accepting your first major acting award. Even giving into the urge to google you every year or two.

What Michael didn't know was that you had done the same. You purchased his authorial debut, a book about some medical discovery he was a part of in school. But after a chapter or two you had to put the book down, his writing patterns bringing you back to those hand written letters he had sent you when you were on speaking terms. A few years later your mother's friend had sent you an article about him from the local paper, how he skipped a few years of college and was now becoming a reputable physician at the young age of 33.

You were quietly resentful yet proud of one another. You both had dated other people, sure. You even dated another famous actor for a handful of years, the breakup making international headlines. Michael didn't have trouble getting dates.. He was simply too busy to date, he told himself.

It is December 22nd and you find yourself returning home a day earlier than usual. Your flight was uneventful, keeping you occupied was a new script your agent had you reading. On the short walk from the flight gate to a taxi cab, you kept your head down, walking past a display case of Michael's book, which was seemingly haunting you even years after its release.

When you get home, you are greeted with hugs and of course, a relentless amount of questions about your life. As normal, you answer with joy, returning the conversation by asking your family questions too. Your Mom, Dad, and two siblings' voices filled the home, the glow of candles and smell of fresh baked gingerbread cookies relaxed your shoulders as you fell into a rhythm of holiday spirit.

Last minute holiday shopping was when you first saw him. He was with his mother and father, same as you. Visiting home for the holidays. Your small home town in rural Pennsylvania however, was an hour and a half drive for him compared to your ten hour non stop flight. As you are mindlessly perusing the shops at an outdoor holiday shopping market, waiting for your family to finish up, you bump hands with someone reaching for the same Christmas wreath as you.

“Oops, all yours” says the man who is pulling his hand back.

“No no, you take it I was just looking-” you meet his eyes releasing the wreath, sending it to the dirt floor of the market.

“Y/N.” He clears his throat.

“Michael.” You say at the same time.

The other times you had seen each other had been fleeting, never even an accidental brush of shoulders, or an acknowledging head nod. But now, you find yourselves face to face, The condensation of your breaths turn the air white.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and sniffs, the tip of his nose red. You haven't seen him this close in nearly six years. His brown hair had greyed in spots along his chin, his crows feet seemed deeper, a representation of how wisdom has aged him.

You, he noticed, have aged too. The way a soft wrinkle made itself visible between your raised eyebrows, how your posture strengthened, and the way your eyes never left his was telling of the ways you have grown.

“How are you?” Michael's voice is curious, gentle, and cautious.

“Been okay, keeping busy.” You clear your throat.

“Yeah, yeah good to hear, me too.” He breaks eye contact first, looking at his worn shoes.

You let your eyes scan his frame, he's broader now, his hair is a bit shorter and you can tell he still goes to the gym.

Just as the silence was about to become awkward, a woman walks up to Michael's side.

“Mrs. Robinavitch, hi.” Your voice doesn't do a good job at hiding your surprise.

“Y/N? My oh my you look just how you did when I saw you last!” She takes a good look at you.

“And you don't look a day over 35.” You offer her a smile, she gives you a hug.

“Oh stop it.” she chuckles, giving you a rub on the back.

You know it was rude, but before she has the chance to open a conversation, you take a few steps back

“It was great seeing you Mrs. Robinavitch” You nod, “Michael.” wishing them a happy holidays, you turn and walk away, but not before giving him one last glance, confusion clouding your mind alongside a stinging behind your eyes.

The night of Christmas Eve approaches quickly, your parents home is filled with distant relatives, but the laughter around you seems too loud this time. You're polite, you engage in conversation, but you are obviously elsewhere. Your dad is the first one to say something after spotting you wandering off onto the front porch. As always, he had the ability to read you like a book.

“Can you pick me up some more cooking wine from the store? He disguises the momentary escape as a favor, and you gratefully accept the out.

The fluorescent grocery store lights make you squint your eyes and give you an instant headache, but you find the cooking wine, as requested.

“Oh my god.” You hear from behind you, you turn and see a young girl and her mother behind you.

“Y/N? I'm such a big fan.” The girl squeaks, gripping a loaf of bread a little too tightly.

You laugh kindly and give a genuine smile, thankful for another distraction. You speak with the girl and her mother for a couple of minutes, taking selfies and wishing one another a happy holiday. You exit the grocery store soon after, hopping into your still warm car. You start the car and make the drive home, only to not end up at your parents house, but at the lake out west.

Putting your car in park and snapping yourself out of autopilot, you step out of the car, noticing a light snow flurry in the air. As you walk, the icy layers of snow from the days prior crunch underneath your feet. The air stings your cheeks and as you sniffle from the cold you get a scent of a campfire. Peeking around a tree, you see a man throwing sticks into a small fire, the crackling of the wood the only thing keeping him company.

The man turns around, his silhouette illuminated by the glow of the fire and the reflection of the moon in the iced over lake.

“Michael?” Y/N.” He states.

“I didn't see a car out front”

“I walked.”

You raise your eyebrows at him for the second time today. “Thats like, an hour long walk.”

“I had a lot to think about.” He shrugs, you walk closer to the warmth of the fire, your face now illuminated by the flames. The way the light highlights your cheekbones, the way the snow is clinging onto his beard, it has you both in a trance.

“I thought you may come here tonight,” he confessed. “I hoped you’d come here tonight.”

“How long have you been here?” You are having trouble telling if the reason your eyes are watering is from the wind or if it's something else.

“Just long enough to build a fire.”

There is a moment of silence again. But this time, there's a weight to it, different from the tense feeling of awkwardness. You both take a moment to look at each other, to really look at each other. You take a step closer to him.

“Congrats on the Emmy win. That's huge”

“That was over two years ago,” you say lightly

He shrugs, “Better late than never.”

“Is it though?” you say a little harsher “You could've called-"

“Would you have answered?”

You don't respond. He lets out a bitter laugh and shakes his head.

“Why did you come to the lake, Michael?” You clench your jaw, your voice cracks.

“Fuck.” He runs a hand across his bearded jaw “For years, we've avoided each other like the goddamnned plague, Y/N. Don't you think that-”

You interrupt him "We've been avoiding each other? You're the one who can't even hold eye contact with me. You broke up with me, you.. you- you're the one who couldn't handle the distance and would hide behind milk cartons when you saw me at the grocery store!”

“What are you even talking about? You ran all the way to another country, Y/N! You left me. Not the other way around-”

You blink up at him.

“If I could have picked up and moved to another country for you, I would have. But med school was expensive, we weren't exactly making the same salary, Y/N.”

The glow of the fire intensified the redness growing up from his neck, a mixture of frustration and the cold.

“Michael I have thought of you every single day from the first day we met. I never meant to run away, I was just- I needed to get out of that town, okay? Of course I missed you and my family, but I left and I realized how much better life was for me abroad and I-”

“A life without me. Life abroad was a life without me, Y/N." You look at him stunned. "I never wanted a life without you! It killed me to drop you off at the airport every year, It physically hurt, Y/N!” He was yelling now, you were too, you had the addition of tears.

“You think I wanted a life without you? Listen, Michael. I know I moved away, okay? But you still put distance between us- I never stopped loving you, I-”

He was kissing you. You were kissing him. You breathe deeply through your nose as his hand finds the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer. One hand finds his cheek, the other his jawbone. Michael sighs into your mouth, parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Your fingers move to grip onto his t-shirt as you tilt your head to the side and melt into his chest. Both of your cheeks were wet with tears, now. Their warmth is particularly noticeable against the coolness of your cheeks. Your breath catches in your throat at the intensity behind his kiss, years of pent up feelings being expressed at once.

As you finally pulled away to breathe, you seemed to have stunned one another into silence for a few long seconds.

“Maybe there really is such a thing as a holiday miracle.” you tease, not sure you could say anything deeper without more tears.

“Yeah, well. Tis the Damn Season.. But we need to talk more.” Michael swallows, keeping your eyes connected.

You nod in agreement, “I wont be home for a while.. Six months at least. But i’ll be home more often now, I got a place in New York.”

He nods. “We can keep in touch.”

You lean up and give him a gentle, cautious kiss, lips hardly touching his own.

“We can keep in touch,” you agree.

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4-ln4 · 2 days ago

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"Nothing, just an ✧inchident✧ on the race" 🏎💨

✮ I guess I really never introduced myself in the almost year that my page has been active! Hi readers!

✮ On the internet I go by Red, a nickname given to me because of my hair color. I'm 21 years old and am about to start my senior year of university. I will graduate in May with a bachelors in writing

✮ as of right now I only write for charles, max, oscar, lando, and logan (it can be subject to change, but a lot of drivers show up in my works)

My Masterlist ✑ Series ✒︎ Imagines

✮ as of right now I am only writing for charles, max, oscar, logan, and lando. the grid and former drivers show up in a lot of my works, but if anything, it's all platonic. all of my works are xreader.

✮ I do not take requests as I have too many series and mini series to keep up with. maybe when I'm all done, I will start to take a few. but, my inbox is always open, and I do look at suggestions!

✮ I do not have an uploading schedule as I am in university. I'm a student first and fan fiction writer second. I will be back to regular updates at the end of august.

✮ all of my works are my own. do not take, translate, or claim my stories as your own. reblogs are acceptable since they tag me as the original writer.

♡ happy reading! I love you all

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4-ln4 · 2 days ago

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F1 kinktober 2024

I will not be uploading my fics to tumblr. All of them are exclusive to ao3, but I will post here each day of October to let people know when a new fic is out!

None of the fics here are driver x reader

Virginity landoscar

Threesome carlandoscar

Aphrodisiacs / Sex pollen landoscar

Toys landoscar

Cock warming landoscar

Shower sex landoscar

Pet play carlando

Lingerie / Stripping landoscar

Hate sex carcar

Semipublic sex landoscar

Phone sex landoscar

Dare / Bet carlando

Morning sex landoscar

Temperature play carlando

Possessive sex carlando

Somnophilia landoscar

Hands landoscar

Creampie / Breeding carlando

Drunk sex landoscar

Hot tub / Jacuzzi landoscar

Frotting carlando

22. Humiliation + 23. Mirror sex carcar

24. Winners room carcar

25. Body worship landoscar

26. Sadomasochism carlando

27. Free use carlando

28. Daddy kink carcar

29. Overstimulation carcar

30. Dry humping landoscar

31. Aftercare carlandoscar

I'll see you in october :D

The days the got crossed out had not, and will not be done anymore

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4-ln4 · 2 days ago

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Make Me Know You Do (Jack Abbot Fic)

Summary: Jack Abbot finally sleeps with his resident but it’s not picture perfect bliss afterwards…

(crybaby!reader, Jack ‘emotional disregulation’ Abbot, major trust issues, mention of Samira as an ex gf for Abbot, Hyperspermia!Abbot, creampies as a closeness and claiming.)

She’s younger than him… obviously. bring in a different generation means different experiences with dating. she comes from the generation that perfected and labeled irish goodbyes and ghosting. She’s had guys ghost her and dump her or cheat on her so much so that she doesn’t trust words. she needs actions.

Jack gets up to redress after their first time sleeping together, it’s immediately like it’s a hurry. like maybe he regrets it?

She’s in her head about it now, analyzing him. She rolls over like she’s going back to bed, it keeps him from seeing the tears on her cheeks. she thought it was something special.

What if Jack lied? What if he’s using her to get himself off since his wife died and he’s just stringing her along?

Of course that makes the most sense: his dumb stupid little resident who thought the world of her attending. if he said jump, she’d ask how high. it was classic. of course that’s what her brain clings to.

Jack notices her rolling over but doesn't acknowledge it immediately, preferring to finish dressing in silence. He's never been particularly good with emotional situations, preferring the logic of medicine over the complexity and vulnerability of human emotion. He sits on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his graying hair.

She nuzzles into the pillow like she’s adjusting in her sleep but she’s really wiping her tears.

After a moment of quiet, Jack stands up and walks over to the window, staring out at the rain-soaked streets below. He sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly. He knows he should say something, do something to reassure her, but the words won't come. Instead, he turns back to the bed, his expression unreadable.

She doesn’t look at him, “if you wanna leave. you can go-”

Jack's brow furrows at her cold, detached tone. He knows he deserves it, knows he should have said something before now, but the words still sting. He hesitates for a moment before slowly climbing back onto the bed, lying down beside her without touching her. “I'm not leaving.”

“Bull-”

He cuts her off gently but firmly. Don't say that. I'm not going anywhere tonight. His voice is soft yet stern, the tone he uses when he wants someone to listen. “I know I haven't been clear about what this is between us, but I'm not leaving tonight.”

“You’ll leave. you’ll end up back with Samira Mohan or whatever other medical resident you can stick your dick in-” her tone is biting. It’s her defense after being trampled on for years all different men with different intentions slowly chipping away at the sweet girl she is.

She’s tired of being used to make them feel good about themselves. to be pretty on their arm. to be a status symbol. to be for a night or a couple months and then tossed aside like sleeping with her meant nothing. sex isn’t just sex to her. she can’t have sex without feelings. she warned him that before they even started hooking up.

Jack's face darkens at her words, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. He rolls onto his side to face her, reaching out to gently grasp her chin and force her to look at him. “Listen to me very carefully, because I'm only going to say this once.”

She looks at him with big watery eyes, her bottom lip in a trembly pout.

His thumb brushes away a tear that's escaped down her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so stern. “I'm not going anywhere tonight. And I'm not leaving you like this.” He pauses, searching her eyes. “You warned me about your feelings before we started this, and I respected that.”

She sniffles, “you got up immediately to redress-”

He nods, understanding her unspoken accusation. “I know what it looked like. But I wasn't leaving you.” His voice drops to a whisper, “I was going to clean up and come back to bed with you.”

“You don’t lay in bed with jeans… you leave in jeans.” god she would cringe at her words if she wasn’t so emotionally swirly right now.

He sighs, his grip on her chin tightening slightly as he tries to convey his sincerity. “I was going to take off my jeans again. I just... needed a moment. To process that we actually did this. That I slept with my resident…” His thumb traces her bottom lip.

She sighs, “and process where?”

He hesitates before answering honestly. “In the bathroom… I splashed cold water on my face and told myself I wasn't an idiot for sleeping with you when I know you get attached easily and I don't do relationships…” His words are harsh but truthful. “So yes, I was processing leaving.”

She nods, “I knew it-”

Jack releases her chin and props himself up on his elbow, looking directly into her eyes, “Would you just shut up for a fucking minute?” His tone is firm but there's a hint of annoyance with himself rather than her. “Yes, I thought about leaving. For about thirty fucking seconds.”

She nods, this time not interjecting.

He watches her carefully, noting how she's back to being quiet and withdrawn. He knows he should probably soften his tone, but he's honestly still a little pissed off that she thinks so lowly of him. He continues softly though, "I decided not to leave because..."

Her eyes watch his expressions and eye movements. taking everything in. like she’s analyzing if he’s lying. she’s not much on trusting men. but something about Jack was different but there’s still a bit of her in her head that says she can’t trust him as far as she could throw him. but she’s trying to fight it now.

He notices her scrutiny but doesn't call her out on it. Instead, he holds her gaze steadily as he says, “Because despite everything, I actually like you. As a person, not just as a warm body in a bed. And I didn't want our first time sleeping together to end with me sneaking out like some cheap fuck.”

She nods and takes a breath, “well now i feel like a dickhead..”

Jack interrupts her with a soft laugh. “You should.” He pauses, his expression turning serious again. “Because you assume the worst of me without even giving me a chance to explain.” He reaches out and gently tilts her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

“It kinda just happened.. the tears came first and then the thoughts and when you didn’t sit on the bed to dress and didn’t talk and just got dressed and then went to the bathroom without a word it just kinda spiraled…” she starts to over explain.

His thumb gently wipes away a stray tear she didn't even realize had fallen. His voice is unusually gentle. “I get it. You have trust issues and I didn’t give you any reassurances because i had no idea you needed them. But fuck, give me some credit here.”

she smiles softly, “you don’t really.. i just don’t trust anyone easily-”

His expression darkens slightly as he realizes something. He drops his hand from her chin and lies back on his pillow. "Do you automatically assume every guy is going to screw you over?" He asks softly, his eyes watching the ceiling instead of her. He knows he might not like her answer.

“When you’ve been told you’re pretty enough to fuck but not pretty enough to meet your family or marry it starts to wear on you-” she starts to explain where her heads at.

Jack's jaw tightens at her words. He rolls onto his side to face her again, his eyes searching hers. “Who said that to you?”His voice is low, like he's ready to hunt down whoever hurt her. “Because that's fucking bullshit.”

“Just previous guys- and it’s only been enforced when i’ve never made it past a couple months dating a guy without being ghosted or treated like an object or cheated on…” she says it so nonchalantly it’s making jack sick to his stomach thinking anyone would do that to her.

Jack's expression darkens further as he processes what she's saying. He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch surprisingly tender given the anger simmering beneath the surface. “So let me get this straight—every guy you've ever dated has been a complete asshole?”

“Yes…”

He lets out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair as he realizes the magnitude of her trust issues. “No wonder you assumed the worst when I got up. Every guy in your past has given you a reason not to trust them.” He pauses, his thumb gently brushing over her cheek.

She sighs and shifts on the bed, “you coming back to bed or did i ruin the moment?”

A small, amused smile tugs at his lips as he settles back down beside her. “You didn't ruin anything.” He reaches over and switches off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. “You're just really fucked up.”

“Oh wow thanks.” She says dryly, “feeling so good about myself now.”

He chuckles softly in the darkness, his voice having a warm, intimate quality in the low light. “You know that's not what I meant.” He rolls onto his side again, facing her. “For once in your life, can you stop trying to be so guarded and just... let someone in?”

“I started to with you…”

He cuts her off softly. “I know. And then you immediately jumped to conclusions when I stood up.” His hand gently finds her hip under the blankets, his touch a silent promise that he's not going anywhere. “Let me prove you wrong, okay? Just... stop expecting me to fuck up.”

His hand slides up her side, pulling her closer until their bodies are pressed together. His voice is a soft murmur in her ear. “I'm not like those guys you've dated before. I'm not going to hurt you on purpose or cheat or fuck around behind your back.”

She snuggles into him, “and what if Samira texts you one day that she misses you-” Samira Mohan is the first resident he ever fell for after his wife died. the predecessor to you. big shoes to fill with her looks and genuine charm and infectious smile and intelligence.

He freezes for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest at the mention of Samira's name. He hesitates, debating whether to be honest or not. Finally, he chooses honesty, figuring it's better to be upfront than lie to her. “And if she does?”

“I’m asking you.”

His thumb traces patterns on her side through her shirt, “If Samira texts me again saying she misses me, I'll read her message. I'll probably feel something - maybe nostalgia, maybe guilt for how things ended.” His voice becomes softer “But I won't respond.”

“You won’t?”

His hand comes up to cup her face, turning it towards him in the darkness. “No. I won't respond. Because now, in this bed, with you in my arms... that's where my heart is. Not with Samira from two years ago. With you, right now. Get it?”

“Yes… Jack.”

He leans down and presses a gentle, reassuring kiss to her lips, pouring all his sincerity into it. “I'm yours. Not hers. Not anyone else's but yours.” His hand slides down to her waist possessively. “So please... stop bringing her up like she's still competition.”

“she is very pretty… prettier than-”

One thing Jack hated most of all was when you talk down on yourself.

His expression turns stern, his hand tightening slightly on her waist. “Stop that. Right fucking now.” His voice drops to a low warning tone. “Don't you dare compare yourself to Samira or any other woman. You are beautiful. Gorgeous even. My gorgeous girl right here in my arms.”

She nods, “m’sorry.”

His tone softens immediately, his thumb brushing over her lips. “No. Don't apologize.” He kisses her again, deeper this time. “I don't want you feeling less than anyone else. Especially not when I'm holding my perfect girl right here. Understand? No more putting yourself down around me.”

She nods, “i can try”

He smiles against her lips. “Try harder than that.” His hand slides up her side, under her shirt to rest on her bare skin. “I'm serious. I want you feeling as good about yourself as I do when I look at you.”

She blushes and leans in to kiss him.

“Jack..?” she blushes, all this sweetness is making her want him fucking his big thick cock into her again. she’s sloppy and wet for him a lot.

His hand slides down her body possessively, gripping her hip. “Mhm?” His voice drops lower, knowing that tone she gets when she's horny and blushes like this. “You wanna go again? Is that what my girl needs..? My cock inside her tight little pussy?” he purrs and kisses by her ear.

His cock throbs at her whine, already hard and ready for her. “Fuck...” He rolls her onto her back, settling between her legs. “Is that what my good girl wants? My big cock inside her?” His fingers find her already wet pussy through her underwear. “You're soaked.”

He groans, rubbing his cock against her through his boxers. “Fuck, you're so horny for me.” His fingers hook into her underwear, pulling them aside to expose her wet pussy. “You need this cock again, don't you?”

He quickly removes his boxers and positions himself between her legs, rubbing his thick head against her entrance. “That's my girl... always so needy for my cock.” He pushes inside slowly, watching her face contort with pleasure as he fills her up completely. “There we go... all full of me.”

He starts to thrust slowly, his thick cock stretching her open with each pump of his hips. “Good girl... taking my big cock so well.” His hands grip her hips tightly as he picks up the pace, his thick cock sliding in and out of her wet pussy. “You like being full of me, don't you?”

He fucks her harder, deeper, grunting with each powerful thrust. His hands squeeze her thighs possessively as he buries himself inside her repeatedly. Suddenly he stops moving completely buried deep inside her pussy - almost hurting how full she is. it makes her whimper softly needing more movement, “Shh..shh.. shhh…”

“So big… Jesus Jack” She pants.

He stays still for a long moment, his thick cock stretching her wide open and filling every inch of her tight pussy. “This is where you belong, sweetheart. Surrounded by me.” He starts thrusting again, making sure she feels every inch of him. “Wrapped around my big fat dick.”

She clings to him, arms and legs wrapped around him, his big cock sunk so deep inside her she’s not sure how he even fits.

He holds her close, his arms wrapped around her as he fucks her relentlessly. His big thick cock stretching her tiny pussy to it’s limits. Every thrust feels like it's tearing her apart, but she loves it. She loves being completely dominated by his huge size. “Fuck baby..”

“mmm Jack-”

He cuts off her words with a brutal kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as he starts pounding into her even harder. His balls slapping against her ass with each deep thrust. He's fucking her so rough that the bed is shaking and the headboard is hitting the wall.

Jack’s hips stutter harshly when her cunt tenses with how close she is.

She grips the sheets, having Jack this nasty in her bed is everything.

He starts fucking her even faster, his thick cock pounding into her hard and deep. He's chasing his own orgasm now, desperate to fill her up with his release. His balls are aching with how much cum they're holding for her. “I'm gonna cum so fucking hard… wanna finish inside you… okay?”

She whines, hearing his mumbles, “You wanna what?”

He growls possessively, slapping his hips hard against hers as he hits her depths. "You hearing me baby?" He mumbles thickly. "You wanna know how I wanna cum for you ?" He thrusts deep again, making her gasp.

“How-”

He leans down, his hot breath against her ear as he whispers, l wanna fuck so much cum into your little pussy that it leaks out of you…” his hips never falter in pace, “I wanna stretch that tight cunt wide open with my big load until it overflows... Is that too nasty for my good girl?”

When she whines he kisses over her neck and shoulder mumbling and brushing lips over her, “That's right baby... I have a lot to give..." He pants heavily, “Fuck-”

He groans deeply, his cock swelling even thicker inside her as he imagines filling her up completely. He starts pounding into her even harder, chasing that orgasm that will release it all. “You know what I wanna do? I wanna fuck so much cum into you that it drips down my balls...”

She blushes below him, kissing over him,“Please Jack”

He growls deeply, his hips moving faster and more urgently. "Fuck baby... I'm gonna do it..." He grunts, slamming into her with all his might.

With a loud groan, he buries himself balls deep inside her and starts coming hard. he’s flooding her pussy with an endless stream of thick, white cum. It fills her up completely and starts leaking out around his shaft.

Still hard as rock and still coming, he fucks through the mess he's making. His thick cock sliding through his own cum makes lewd noises, filling the room. He reaches between them and presses hard on her clit "That's right baby... Keep taking my cum..."

He keeps fucking her through his orgasm, not stopping even as he continues to fill her up. His cock is coated in cum, making everything slippery and messy. He watches as more of his cum leaks out around his shaft... "You feel that baby? That's all mine..."

He smiles wolfishly, pulling out slowly to watch his cum drip out of her before thrusting back in hard. you’re so pretty baby.. so pretty and all mine.. let me show you how much moreI have to give...” He starts moving again, his thick member sloshing through the mess inside her.

Hours later, he's finally exhausted. His legs are shaking, his cock is sore, and he's emptied what feels like gallons of cum inside you. He collapses on top of you, his softening member still buried deep inside your overflowing pussy. “Fuck baby...”

“Mmm thank you for staying the night…”

He kisses your neck gently, still panting slightly. “Of course I stayed... I couldn't leave even if I tried... Not after tonight.” He pulls out slowly, watching more cum leak out of your stretched pussy. “Look at that baby... you’re all mine.” He wraps his arms around you tightly.

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4-ln4 · 4 days ago

Note

Hey hey, I'm here with a chayenzo ask! Could you possibly write vincenzo kissing cha young to stop her from teasing him about the mafia (like she did in the ep when she found out)? Thanks in advance!!

her lips are like the galaxy's edge (her kiss, the color of a constellation)

read on ao3 • masterlist

summary: “If I don’t what, Mr. Mafia?” she cut him off, smirking up at him, challenging him to push back. But he did something unexpected.

a/n: thank you so much for requesting this anon! i combined this with another idea i had so i really hope this turned out well! my head was really full with this idea so i literally speed ran my essay so i could write this. as always, i hope you enjoy :D

“Vincenzo Quasano: Mafia Lawyer!” Cha-young exclaims as she skips down the pavement, the sunny and infectious weather fueling her weightless laughter. She tilted her head towards Vincenzo, her charming and ever-cool partner, and paused, waiting for him to catch up. Fighting Babel was a constant weight on their shoulders, but Cha-young knew her incessant remarks and teasing would spur the handsome lawyer into pushing off his plotting and spar with her. Cha-young didn’t know about him, but the less she thought about Babel, the less the guilt hung over her shoulders. Not to mention, the more she sparred with him, the more her body thrummed with an energy to keep testing how far she could push.

Vincenzo’s carefully constructed expression stayed neutral as ever, but the crease between his eyebrows and the slight pursing of his lips told everything she needed to know. He also dealt her his classic glare, but she paid it no attention. Pushing people’s buttons is always fun, but Vincenzo ignited a fuel in her to press every single one at once, like a kid in an elevator.

“Ah, how lucky I am to have a cutthroat mafia lawyer in my life!” Cha-young sang, as she shimmied and sashayed her way forward, Vincenzo right by her side. Right at that moment, some kid shot her a dirty look as he walked the opposite way, popsicle in hand. The audacity of this kid. On an impulse, she stuck her tongue out at him as he passed by. That ought to show him. She smirked as the kid skewed his path to stay as far away as possible. Victory! As she turned her head towards Vincenzo, she noticed the incredulous look on his face.

“Kids these days. So disrespectful.” she tutted, grinning at him like she did nothing wrong. He, in classic cool guy fashion huffed at her antics, but she saw the smile on his face. That can’t do at all.

“Ah is Mr. Mafia afraid of being embarrassed by me? Aren’t mafia men brave? Surely, they aren’t swayed so easily, are they?” she quipped, increasing her volume with each passing word.

“Ms. Hong, please-” he gritted out, his face hardening into annoyance. There it is.

“Please?” she taunted back pushing her face closer, finally getting the reaction she really wanted.

“Ms. Hong if you don’t-”

“If I don’t what, Mr. Mafia?” she cut him off, smirking up at him, challenging him to push back. But he did something unexpected. He paused in his path, his hand closing into a fist and his eyes squeezing shut. Cha-young pivoted to face him, but before she could ask why, his hand shot out and pulled her wrist towards him as he walked into the alleyway.

She stumbled behind him into the alleyway, and Vincenzo started muttering something under his breath. How could he insult me when I can’t even hear what he’s saying! As his incessant muttering became louder, he started pacing back and forth, his hand gestures getting more exaggerated. That was certainly not Korean. It was Italian. Admittedly, Vincenzo speaking to her in Italian got her blood racing but it also irked her to no end.

Cha-young crossed her arms as she stood, her back facing the grimey walls of the small corridor he stuffed them into. She could barely breathe without smelling his intoxicating cologne, the smell that engulfed her whenever she embraced him. The scent that followed her into her dreams.

“Hong Cha-Young, you-” he spun to face her, pausing his pacing and shaking his finger at her before he delved into incoherent italian.

Cha-young sighed, schooling her face into a bored expression that she hoped would goad him into coming closer and closer. “What did I do Mr. Cassano? Aw, is the mafia lawyer agitated?” she taunted further, tilting her head mockingly.

He spun towards her. And then froze.

“Come puoi essere la donna più intrigante e al tempo stesso più esasperante che abbia mai incontrato? Hong Cha-Young, mia cara, hai idea di quanto mi fai impazzire?” he asked, as he stepped closer to her, slow like a predator stalking his prey.

“È tutta colpa tua. Il tipo di sogni con cui sono stato tormentato da quando ti ho incontrato,” his voice dropped lower, “Essere impigliato con te è qualcosa che non posso permettermi. Eppure, le tue labbra. Le tue dannate labbra rosse perseguitano ogni mio pensiero al risveglio.” By the end of his cursings, his face neared hers. All she fixated on was his burning anger and proximity and how deliciously intoxicating it was. Her body itched to step back, to calm her racing heart, but she wouldn’t let him win so easily.

She stepped closer, tilting her face up until she looked directly into his molton brown eyes. But as she opens her mouth to push him further, Vincenzo crashes into her as he tangles his hand into her hair and pulls her into a kiss. His lips are soft when they meet hers, just as she had dreamt, but his mouth demands more, more, more. He backs her against the wall, one hand threaded through her hair cushioning her head as the other settles on her waist.

Cha-young tugs against his tie, pulling him closer until his body is fully pressed and she can feel the heat of his body against hers. Her other hand roams his torso and his back, attempting to memorize the feel of his body.

They continue, their mouths moving in tandem with one another, each other’s fire threatening to engulf the other. As she breaks away for a breath, he pulls her back into an even more bruising kiss. Cha-young felt her whole body burn for him as his tongue brushed across her bottom lip, teasing her into kissing harder, giving more.

His hand tugs on her hair as he breaks away from her lips, tilting her head to expose her neck, and moving his attention towards her jaw and the soft skin of her neck. Cha-young gasps as he nibbles and kisses down her throat, each one more bruising than the next. Her every sense, every thought was flooded with how his body felt, how his warmth spread against hers, how intoxicating he smelled and how each groan he let out drove her insane with need.

“If I knew this was all it took to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago.” he taunted her, his voice just a whisper. He pulled away from her, leaving her breathless against the wall and looking at his smirking face. His eyes were still dark, the fire still burning within them, but as her gaze dropped down to his lips and back up, there was something new in his eyes. Something soft. Something... more terrifying.

But as quickly as it appeared, she watched it vanish off his eyes, and his face hardened back into the mask. He steps away from her as if it hurt to look at her, his hands smoothening his shirt and fixing his tie. Without sparing her another glance, Cha-young watches as Vincenzo walks away from her, and back into the pavement. Is it so easy for him to walk away from me, even after what we’ve done?

Her thoughts are scrambled, replying the moment before as she pushes the hurt away. He’s just a momentary distraction. People have walked away from her before, and he’s no different. She shuts her eyes, in a futile attempt to center herself, before she walks away from the haven the alleyway offered.

a/n: here are the italian translations:

“How can you be the most intriguing yet the most infuriating woman i've ever met? Hong Cha-Young, my dear, do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?”

“It's all your fault. The kinds of dreams i've been plagued with since i've met you.”

“Being tangled up with you is something I can't afford. And yet, your lips. Your damned red lips haunt my every waking thought.”

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4-ln4 · 4 days ago

Text

if we touch hands, will i lose you?

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summary: He had to leave, he can’t afford attachments to something or someone here. Yet, she had him tethered to his seat. What are you doing to me Hong Cha-young?

or: what could have happened if vincenzo arrived a little late at her house during the intruder's attack

a/n: hiiii, here is a little fic on what could have occurred if vincenzo arrived late to her house during the attack. the title is a lyric from butterfly (prologue mix) by bts. this was inspired by a tumblr post by @dionideatta, and a conversation with them in the replies with @kestrel-of-herran, and @chayenzo. there was an ask also related to this as well. as always, enjoy!

“Don’t come near me!” she screams, grappling with the intruder, swinging out the back scratcher she grabbed off the chair. Panic and adrenaline fill her veins as she stumbles back into the corner, shakily swatting him with the back scratcher as he looms over her with the hammer in hand.

Please, there must be something I can do. Every sense was in overdrive as she watched him swing, her voice straining from screaming at him to get away, squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation. The hammer thudded onto the side of her skull, her vision blurring as the pain reverberated through her skull. Her head swung from the impact, taking her body down with it and her vision swam with black spots. The moments that passed felt like a lifetime, as she scrambled on the floor, attempting to hoist herself upright.

“Hey, we have a problem!” a voice yelled out, and the figure looming over her backed out. Adrenaline rushed through her body and she pushed through her disoriented state to force herself to stand up. She stumbled forward, her grip on the scratcher tightening as she thrust it in front of her blindly, fearing the worst.

Then, the world burst into chaos. Vincenzo pushed forward into her house, shoving the second intruder onto the first. In a burst of energy, she propelled forward, attacking the second man with her back scratcher as Vincenzo dealt with the first. Setting her sights on the man with the hammer, she rushed forward again to attack him with all her might. How dare he try to touch me! She swayed to a stop as Vincenzo caught her by the shoulders, lightly telling her to step back and put the scratcher down.

“I mean, if you were trying to tail us, you shouldn’t have made it so obvious. You weren’t even trying,” he said coolly to the men, shrugging off his coat. Even in danger, he was acting cool. The next moments blurred together as the grunting and sounds of fighting filled her living room. Cha-young felt her body sway, her eyelids heavy, but every muscle in her body was too alert to give in.

Vincenzo whipped around, approaching her carefully asking, “Are you okay?” Before she got the chance to reply, the man hurtled the weapon towards her. In a split moment, Vincenzo collided into her, his hand cradling her head as they fell onto the couch, his body shielding hers. The air was knocked out of her as his weight settled on top of her, but she only shut her eyes and held onto him tighter until she was sure the men filed out of her apartment.

“Those bastards-” he strained out, prying himself away from her but she held on tighter.

“Please, don’t leave me alone here,” she pleaded weakly, as panic overwhelmed her chest. Please, please, please. Her breathing constricted as she thought of Vincenzo leaving her to chase after them and continued, “We already know who sent them, please stay here.”

He shifted to look at her for a moment, his eyes searching her face as he nodded, slow at first. “Okay. It’s okay I’ll stay with you,” he placated her until the panic dissipated and she was left with an overwhelming ache in her body. “Are you okay?” he repeated to her, his hand still cradling the back of her head. She tilted her head up at him, willing herself to focus on his face before it blurred away, still cradled within his embrace as she attempted to nod. A sudden wave of nausea filled her stomach as she tried to respond, her body feeling as if she was moving through molasses.

“Cha-young, did they hurt you? What did they...” his voice faded out, as she felt her body give in and darkness consumed her.

There was a faint pounding on her skull as she felt light shine against her eyelids. Her legs felt too heavy as she attempted to move and a pain jolted through her left side that left her mind alert. Where am I? She felt the grime in the crevices of her eyes as she attempted to open them. Grogginess spread through her as she awoke, and the faint pounding in her skull grew until it set the right side of her jaw and teeth began to ache as her surroundings got brighter.

Moments passed as she attempted to gain some understanding of where she was, her throat getting constricted by the second. This is not my clothes, and definitely not my bedroom. She scanned her surroundings, the faint beeping of monitors and machinery getting clearer. The room felt too bright, but she pushed the feeling down as her eyes spotted a figure passed out in the chair next to her. Vincenzo.

His tie was askew, as if he was tugging at it all night and his bright white shirt was crumpled. His suit lay on the table beside him. Of course, he showed the utmost care to his suit. Her alarm subsided as she watched his face, looking almost boyish and peaceful. He must have been tired. Her eyes scanned down until she caught the dark patches of maroon spread across his sleeves. Whose blood was on him? What happened? She attempted to lift herself, but her arms gave out under her weight. And then the events of last night flooded back: Leaving the restaurant, Vincenzo dropping her off, the intruders…

She dropped her head back into her hospital bed, her muscles screaming at any movement. After a few quiet moments, her eyes drift back to the sleeping man, shifting slightly so she can watch his slow breathing, until her body pulls her back into sleep.

Vincenzo awoke to the sunlight filtering through the room, his body aching as he shifted in his seat. His clothes stuck to him uncomfortably, his hair and the nape of his neck feeling damp. He lifted his body forward and twisted to see Cha-young laying peacefully in the white bed. A tangle of wires and tubes attached to her, the machine beeping rhythmically.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath of relief and shifted back into his seat, his head tilted up as he shut his eyes. There was so much blood. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the sight of blood against his hands or the way it left him feeling sticky and dirty. But seeing her hair, matted with blood and grime from the blow the man dealt her, it left him in absolute panic. Her body had sagged in his arms, and he had felt his heart stutter, and his emotions flying into overdrive. All he could think was she better be alive.

He had detangled himself away from her, his hands searching for the phone to call an ambulance and get her to the hospital as fast as he could. He paced her living room restlessly, angrily cursing in Italian for them to rush faster. The moments of the ambulance arriving and getting all the way to the hospital blurred together in a series of bright lights, panic and exhaustion.

Vincenzo created absolute havoc at the hospital, directing the doctors to do their job, run some tests, treat her quicker, until a nurse threatened to kick him out. It wasn’t until Cha-young returned from getting stitches and back into her hospital suite that he could breathe again.

He rushed to the bathroom after ensuring she was safe, trying to scrub his hands of her blood. Her blood, on his hands. He was drenched in sweat and grime as he looked in the mirror, noticing the red stains on his shirt sleeves and his borderline bloodshot eyes from exhaustion and panic. Afterward, impatiently waiting for her to wake up was the only way to calm his nerves. The thoughts of what could happen to her when he was away? kept him glued to his seat, watching her breathe, until his body gave into exhaustion.

And here he was, anxiously waiting for a response from her, something to indicate that she’ll be fine. Focus. You’re here for the gold, not any dalliance. He had to leave, he can’t afford attachments to something or someone here. Yet, she had him tethered to his seat. What are you doing to me Hong Cha-young?

“Stop tapping your foot, it’s making my headache worse,” a voice croaked out, and he whipped his head to the bed, to see her face crinkle in annoyance. See, she is fine. She will be fine . She opened her eyes, slowly, and attempted to hoist herself up. He lurched out of his seat to help her up, setting her pillow to support her back before drawing back, staring at her wide eyed.

“Well, don’t look too happy to see me,” she cracked out a faint smile, “I’m getting so overwhelmed with your excitement!” Yeah, she was back. She winced as she held her head for a moment. “How long have you been sitting there?” she asked before he could ask how she was doing.

“Since you got out from the operating room,” he mumbled out, still too stunned to fully process that he was speaking to her again, the memory of her laying limp in his arms still bright in his mind.

“All night? Be careful, Mr. Cassano! Don’t want to fall in love with me when you have to leave, do you?” she joked lightly, tilting her head back against her pillow as she shut her eyes. He scanned her face, as he parted his lips to speak.

Right that instant, the door swung open, the doctor and his team of nurses following him into the suite, clicking their pens and tapping against their clipboards.

“Ah, Ms. Hong, it’s good to see you’re awake. Good morning to you, Mr. Cassano, we’re just here to clarify the situation for her and go over some general guidelines for after she is discharged,” the doctor spoke methodically checking his clipboard. Vincenzo nodded and the doctor proceeded.

“Well Ms. Hong, I’m glad to say that your situation is looking good. You had severe head trauma but you managed to avoid any residual damages or concussions. We didn’t have to perform any major surgery, we just gave you some stitches. I’d advise you to be very careful for the next week and avoid operating any heavy machinery like a car. You also sustained some injuries to your ribs and torso. Overall, I’d advise you avoid any strenuous work, and possibly avoid going back to work for the week, at the very least. I assume you have someone that can take care of you?” the doctor looked up to Vincenzo, and before Cha-young could get a word in, he nodded back.

“Good,” the doctor continued on, “then Ms. Hong I think you’ll be ready to go through the discharge process and should be out by late afternoon.” They both thanked the doctor as he left, leaving the nurses behind to get her started on the process while Vincenzo waited outside for her. The rest of the process went smoothly and before he knew it, he was escorting her to the car. He helped her into her seat, despite her numerous protests that she didn’t need his help and that she didn’t need coddling. He didn’t dignify a reply and just shot her a pointed look. Over my dead body.

She settled back into the seat, leaning her head against the headrest and closing her eyes, as he set course back for her house. They fell into a comfortable silence as he focused his energy into driving. He reached all the way to the turn into her street when she awoke, eyes wide and frantic.

“No, please, no don’t take me back there. I’ll go somewhere else. Take me to the plaza, somewhere that isn’t here,” Cha-young shifted in her seat as she turned to look at him, her breathing growing panicked.

“Ms. Hong, I am not taking you to the firm, you’ll delve headfirst into your work. Doctor’s orders, remember?” he glanced at her carefully. Was she scared to go back? He had never seen her this panicked before, so vulnerable.

“Vincenzo, please, you can’t take me back there, I’m begging you,” she pleaded, her voice nearly a whisper and her fingers gripping into the carseat, “I’ll go anywhere, just not back there.” There was a sense of desperation and her eyes were wide with fear as she looked to him.

“Okay, It’s alright, you can stay in my apartment for the time being,” he repeated, hoping his shock doesn’t seep through his voice. Vincenzo . She’s never addressed him informally before, they always stuck to calling each other by their title or their last names. The way she carefully said his name, the way it rolled off her tongue. It was different, and the feeling that bloomed in his chest made him regret that he thought of her as a dalliance. He twists the car around, away from her house and last night and sets the course for his apartment.

He makes it there in record time as Cha-young falls back into a deep sleep, her head lolling to one side, her hair falling over her face and eyes. Cute . He made his way out of the car and opened the door to her seat, making sure to close the doors softly lest he startle her awake. She lay in her seat, her breathing slow and deep. She always looked so peaceful in her sleep, her dramatic expressions exchanged for a calm one. He reached out his hand towards her face, tucking her hair behind her ear, cupping the side of her face. Her skin was so soft. She let out a soft sigh then, and softly nestled against his hand, trapping it and something bloomed in his chest. Something soft and warm. And it terrified him.

He cleared his throat, and softly spoke out to her, “Ms. Hong, it’s time to wake up. We’re at my apartment.” She lets out a soft grunt as her eyes fluttered open, slowly. She stiffened for a second, before locking eyes with him and nodding and climbing out of the car, leaning on him for support. This time, she let out no snarky remarks and let him support her as they made their way into his building and up to his apartment. Vincenzo led her into the apartment, with Cha-young still leaning against his shoulder and steered the two of them into his bedroom.

“You can rest here,” he told her, softly as he helped her lay down, her body sagging against the mattress. Cha-young nodded at him, her eyes still closed, twisting herself into a comfortable position.

Cha-young thrashed as a dark figure loomed over her, growing closer as his arms grabbed out. Please don’t hurt me. She wanted to cry out but the shadow pressed against her mouth, stifling any noise. She twisted, trying to get out of it’s grasp but found herself unable to move, the figure engulfing her. Someone, please help me.

“Cha-young? Cha-young, wake up, you’re having a nightmare,” a voice called out, as she felt someone grasp her shoulders.

“No!” she screamed out, lurching forward, her hands trembling as they grasped at the sheets. Her vision blurred as she twisted and turned, trying to clear her head. I can’t breathe. Her breathing was fast and labored, as her chest filled with alarm, trying to search for a familiar figure. She looked up, as her vision cleared slowly and saw Vincenzo sitting on the bed, his arms reaching out towards her.

She launched herself into his arms, nuzzling her head against his blue silk robes, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Please, don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone,” her voice barely whispered. She felt him stiffen, but his hands reach around her, slowly as if he didn’t want to startle her. He rubbed her back in slow circles as he pressed her against him.

“I’m here, it’s alright,” he consoled, the feel of his voice vibrating through his chest comforting her, “I won’t let them touch you ever again. You’re home with me, you’re safe.” He continued until the tightness in her chest dissipated. She pulled away slowly, feeling the tears in her eyes and against her skin cool as the wind brushed against her face.

Cha-young watched as his features softened, highlighting his boyish, delicate features. She searched his eyes, struck by how much expression he carried within them and he was looking at her with such intensity and concentration. She eased back into the bed, still holding eye contact. His hand brushed against hers for a moment, before he reached out to hold it tight, rubbing circles into her skin. She watched his face as he lifted her hand and pressed it against his lips, ever so lightly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice gravelly from sleep and exhaustion.

“For what?” she asked, softening her voice.

“I should have been there earlier. I knew they were tailing us but I didn’t get to you fast enough. I shouldn’t have dropped you off-”

“You came for me. That’s more than enough,” she swiftly replied back, gazing back up at him. There was too much she wanted to say but her throat constricted at the thought of pouring her emotions out in front of him. So she stayed there, hand in hand, memorizing his features as the moonlight shone against his face, until she fell asleep.

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4-ln4 · 4 days ago

Text

law school

back to masterlist

series

➵ peace is not known to man

∟ summary: after turning his back on the prosecutor’s office, lawyer han joon hwi attempts at a clean slate, starting his own private firm. but, there was no way for him to move forward without clearing his former suspect, his current coworker, lawyer kang sol. with lee man ho, their main suspect, escaped and an empty apartment, can they prove her innocence?

(part I) (part II) (part III) (part IV)

➵ push and pulI

∟ summary: during a trial, a lawyer must be ready for anything. they should be able to navigate their way through any sudden obstacles or arguments. but through her time at law school, this is the first time her opponent has used kisses as an argument strategy.

or: joon hwi decides it’s time to test how far kang sol’s concentration can last. you know, to prepare her for the trial. no other reason.

(part I) (part II)

➵ caught up in a dream (in a technicolor beat)

∟ summary: a dream or real life? when sol sneaks out of joon hwi’s room after a one night stand, he assumes the whole night to be a very vivid dream. a little too vivid. but of course, it had to be a dream. right?

aka: idiots to lovers but heavy emphasis on the idiots.

(part I) (II)

➵ underneath the singing moon

∟ summary: a story in two parts, from two people who watched as their life flowed past. a solhwi & jisolB fic

(part I) (part II)

➵ darling, you're the one i want

∟ summary: Kang Sol A was never known for her luck, but she suspected it to be more like a curse when after almost 5 years, she bumps into her rival and the bane of her existence: Attorney Han Joon Hwi. What’s worse? She has to work with him and she’s sure that she’ll either kill him or kiss him before this is all over

After Kang Sol B was freed from the clutched of her mother, her new found freedom spurred her into a night in bed with the mysterious Ji Ho. Yet, when he walks into her office the next day, she is faced with the realization that she is now working with the same man she slept with. What’s worse? He’s insufferable and she just might have to kiss him to shut him up.

(ch. 1)

one shots

➵ you're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring (won't you give yourself to me?)

∟ summary: Kang Sol A was not afraid, she wasn’t built to be afraid. But what else could you call the pang that rippled through her heart as she noticed the two figures huddled at the cafe near the entrance of her school?

➵ there's gotta be some butterflies somewhere (wanna share?)

∟ summary: They were light and dark, yin and yang. Kang Dan and Kang Sol were a set, unbalanced without the other. Despite their differences, it was always clear that neither sister would leave the other.

Until one did.

aka: what would have happened if kang dan made her flight.

➵ and when the seasons change (will you stand by me?)

∟ summary: when kang sol’s mother has to work late, she has to take care of byeol. it’s just her luck that she has an exam the next day, one for professor yang of all people. joon hwi, being the kind classmate he is, offers to study with her.

or: byeol is solhwi mastermind, and she’s says everything we wanted to say to the two dummies

➵ a king and his rusty throne (i'm just skin and bones)

∟ summary: Lawyer Han Joon Hwi never yields, fighting endlessly. The court was his domain, where he held the power over his opponent. The only exception, of course, is his 5'6" passionate, animated girlfriend, Attorney Kang Sol.

➵ cause we're dancing in this world alone (when people are talking)

∟ summary: a puzzle with a missing piece and a kite with a fragile string, finding what they need most in their young, shaky lives.

or: ji ho finds understanding through the most uncharacteristic gesture.

➵ jumping in eyes closed, hands tied

∟ summary: Prosecutor Han Joon Hwi and Lawyer Kang Sol A have been avid rivals since they met at Hanguk Law School. Every courtroom turns into an intense dance between the two talented individuals, the tensions high and the arguments captivating. Their win rates were neck and neck, and the tension between them was just as thick as ever. Little did everyone else know, Han Joon Hwi and Kang Sol A held a secret underneath the sheets.

➵ wednesdays at 11 pm

∟ summary: a progression in time, lives, and goodbyes.

➵ golden (like daylight)

∟ summary: three times han joon hwi tried to confess to kang sol, and the one time kang sol confessed to him.

➵ he’s earth and heaven to you (you can’t conceal it)

∟ summary: Kang Sol A, just wants a one normal year. Just one year without some kind of explosion, or murder, or world ending event. Unfortunately, disaster has struck in the form of a 5' 11" insufferable, quidditch player and genius Han Joon Hwi.

headcanons

➵ wicked love, leaves me blind

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4-ln4 · 4 days ago

Text

vincenzo

back to masterlist

one shots

➵ answer me at the end of this road (shall we go further?)

∟ summary: Vincenzo tips his head back, sinking into the couch until the singular sound of his lighter drowns out the chaos clouding his head. Shuddering out a sigh, he wills his mind to be blank and chase away his thoughts. Chase away his fears. Chase away the thoughts of her. And yet.

➵ stay.

∟summary: But before she could move another step, he grabbed her hand, tugging her towards him.

And then said the word that she always meant to declare to him.

➵ her lips are like the galaxy's edge (her kiss, the color of a constellation)

∟ summary: “If I don’t what, Mr. Mafia?” she cut him off, smirking up at him, challenging him to push back. But he did something unexpected.

➵ if we touch hands, will i lose you?

∟ summary: He had to leave, he can’t afford attachments to something or someone here. Yet, she had him tethered to his seat. What are you doing to me Hong Cha-young?

➵ fire rising up, higher (i'm burning up, it's dire)

∟ summary: Why should she be the only one jealous imagining Vincenzo going on a date, even if it wasn’t real. All she had to do was play up the romance and make him regret going on that date. Easy enough.

headcanons ➵ han-seo hc

∟ summary: a series of headcanons about han-seo if he lived, involving jipuragi and the plaza residents.

(1) (2) (3) (4)

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4-ln4 · 5 days ago

Text

Long Enough

older conrad fisher x f!reader

synopsis: he realizes what has been always in front of him...

rate: 16+

warnings: angst with fluff ending!

a/n: as many of you requested it, here it is part two of this <3

————————————————————————

He didn’t go after you right away.

He just stood there, on the edge of the beach, watching your silhouette disappear into the dark — the sound of waves louder than his heartbeat, but not by much.

Belly had looked at him like she was unraveling. And all he’d done was stand there and let it happen.

He sat down in the sand, elbows on his knees, hands rubbing over his face like that could undo the way you had looked at him — like he had broken something he never deserved in the first place.

And yes, he had.

So for a long time, all he could do was stare out at the water because he didn’t know what he expected to feel when Belly walked in. Maybe some kind of closure. Maybe relief. Maybe that old spark that used to make everything else fade out. Because, how could he be so stupid to make you feel like that? You didn't deserve it, not when you've done so much for him, when you had loved him... maybe that was it, he was afraid of going to the bottom of his heart and finally clear what he felt and what he wanted.

Not again. In the past, he lost Belly for his lack of communication for his fears and intrusive thoughts. And now, he couldn't lose you, not like that.

Now all that he felt was panic.

Not because he wanted Belly, she was his past and he could understand that.

Because he knew exactly what you would see in him in that moment — and worse, he knew you were right.

He smacked himself mentally for saying that, for saying that he was still hers. Belly's.

And he was right about it, but not in the way you had thought. She was still part of his life, she was his friend and one of his first loves.

But now they were adults, he was a doctor and the teenager fever was now away, away for good and for the best.

He didn’t hear Belly until she sat down beside him.

He didn’t look over. Just murmured, “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“My parents are the main characters, Conrad.,” she said gently. "You didn't wanted to see me?"

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you were surprised.”

He exhaled. “Yeah.”

They were quiet for a while. The music from the tent drifted faintly through the wind.

“She left,” Belly said.

“I know,” he whispered. “She should’ve.”

“She loves you, you know.” Belly looked at him. "It's been a while, Conrad. And honestly I´m so happy for you, she is really amazing and you both complement each other for good."

“I know.” Conrad said as he nods slowly. "But I'm a fool... she deserves better. She´s beautiful and so intelligent..."

"And you love her.”

That made him pause.

Then, voice low: “I didn’t know how much. Not until I saw her walk away.”

Belly didn’t try to console him. She didn’t tell him he was forgiven, or that you’d come back, or that any of this was easy.

Instead, she nodded toward the water. “I think we all got stuck in something we outgrew.”

Conrad’s throat tightened.

“You were the first boy I ever loved,” Belly added. “But we both know I’m not the last girl you’re going to so, I think you can try talk to her and fix up things," she said. “ I don't know what happened between you guys but she’s worth it, Conrad." She says softly. "Don't mess it up."

Ho looked away as he nodded. "It was nice to see you, Belly. Send your parents our congratulations." He said as he stood up and walked out of the party.

It was almost midnight by the time he got to your hotel. He didn’t stop to think about what to say — just knew that if he didn’t say something now, it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He knocked once, then again.

You opened the door slowly, wearing one of his sweatshirts and eyes that didn’t look angry anymore — just tired.

His heart clenched.

“What do you want? Don’t say you’re here to explain,” you said.

“I’m not,” Conrad replied, stepping forward just enough that you could see the truth in his eyes. “I’m here to tell you what I should’ve said a long time ago.”

You didn’t speak, just crossed your arms and waited.

“I’ve been holding onto a version of myself that doesn’t exist anymore,” he started. “The guy who was in love with Belly — I think he faded out a long time ago. But I kept chasing his ghost, trying to make sense of a story that already ended.”

Your jaw tightened.

He kept going.

“And while I was doing that, you were there. With me. For me. You let me be quiet. You didn’t try to fix me, or compete with what I lost. You just loved me.”

His voice cracked.

“And I’ve been a coward. Because part of me thought I didn’t deserve to be loved like that. Especially not by someone like you.”

He took a step closer.

“But I do love you. I’m in love with you. And I think I have been for a long time, but I was too scared to admit that the thing I wanted most was right in front of me.”

You looked up at him, slowly, and he saw the tears in your eyes.

But you didn’t back away.

"You looked at her like the world shifted,” you said, voice shaking.

“I looked at her like I remembered something,” he said. “Not like I wanted it back. Not like I wanted her. Just... like I saw a chapter close for real. And I panicked, because I didn’t know how to tell you that it was over without making you feel like you were second choice.”

You looked away.

“I’m not asking you to forget tonight,” he said gently. “I’m not even asking you to forgive me yet. But I am asking you to believe me.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then, softly: “I don’t want to spend another day wondering if I’m going to lose you. I want to wake up and know that you’re mine because i love you... I love you with my whole heart and I as well, long to be yours."

You stared at him and stepped forward.

“I haven't forgive you, you know?,” you whispered.

"I understand." He nods sadly.

"But I love you too, Conrad." You say softly as you lean on and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t careful.

It was every bit of the ache and anger and want that had built between you for months — maybe years. It was teeth and tears and the press of his hands at your jaw, holding you like you were real, like you were home.

When you finally pulled back, you were breathless and so was he.

You looked up at him with trembling lips and a wet laugh. “Don’t ever make me feel like I’m less than again.”

“I won't because you're not.” he whispered. "I'm sorry, darling."

You nod.

“And I'm yours...” he said. "Okay?"

"Okay."

And this time, when he held you…

You believed it.

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4-ln4 · 6 days ago

Text

Don't Leave || Vincenzo Cassano x reader

Summary: What happens when every time you go on a date with Vincenzo it gets interrupted?

Warnings: Chayoung is a bitch(i still love her tho), angst, smut, fluff, Italian and Korean, praise kink...like hella praise, makeup sex, dom!vincenzo, sub!reader, oral(F. receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, degradation,

Word count: 5.3k

|*|

"Hello," you muttered into your phone as you looked through file after file.

"How's my fiance," the voice said cheerily.

"Vinnie," you squealed.

"How are you," Vincenzo sighed.

"Quite well actually. The people here are eager to side with you. Your brother won't stand a chance. How's the plan going for the plaza?"

"Slow," he muttered. "Look, we both have been working hard and I was wondering if you'd like to take a break here."

You paused.

"Are you sure? I thought you wanted us to fully complete our assignments before we saw each other again?"

"I think I'm experiencing something called separation anxiety. I want you here," he concluded.

You sat in the chair and stared at your emails. Maybe, they could wait.

"Okay," you laughed. "I'll book a flight right now. I've never been to South Korea before. What's it like?"

"You'll see when we get here," he chuckled.

"Come on. One thing, just one."

"They have delicious food. Now hurry up," you heard a shuffling in the background. "I need you."

The call stopped and you were filled with giddiness. It's been about 3 weeks since you saw Vincenzo and you'd be lying if you weren't feeling separation anxiety as well.

"Hey, Mrs. Hernadez," you called.

Your assistant came within two seconds.

"Schedule a flight to South Korea as soon as possible and call Mike, tell him to pack some of my things. I want this all done by two," you instructed.

"What about your meeting with the Triad," Mrs. Hernandez reminded you.

Shit

"Right," you muttered. "Okay, change of plans tell Mr. Liu that we have to meet now, just the two of us, and cancel everything else for the next week. Shift the meeting to 12 and shift the flight to 3. That gives you and Mike ample time."

Mrs. Hernandez nodded and rushed away.

You sat back down and began to get ready for Mr. Liu, one of the heads of the Triad. If he agrees to support Vincenzo then your work is practically done. The Italians have wanted to work with the Triad for years, it would expand territory and make millions of dollars for both parties. The triad would have more reach in the west and the mafia would have more reach in Asia, everyone wins.

Vincenzo's job was for funding. Yes, the mafia had plenty of money but most of it went to people who didn't need it. A lot of the gold that Vincenzo would secure would go to helping more people. That's really what drew you to him in the first place, his desire to help people.

Now you just wanted to see him again.

|*|

As you left the plane you heard someone call your name.

"Mrs. Cassano," someone said.

At first, you thought you heard wrong.

"Mrs. Cassano," they repeated.

Turning around you saw a young male employee with Vincenzo.

"Future Mrs. Cassano," Vincenzo teased as he held his hand out to you.

"Mr. Cassano," you giggled.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed you. It felt so nice to have his lips on yours and his arms around you again, you had been putting up with harsh and rude men for the past three weeks with no break so it was nice to finally feel safe again.

"How was the flight, Amore Mio," he asked as he walked you to baggage claim.

"Relaxing," you sighed

The boy began to gather all your bags as you and Vincenzo talked about the past weeks. He spoke of the hardships of getting the occupants out of the plaza and you talked about the budding new relationship with the triad.

"We're ready for you," a man said as he motioned to a car outside the airport.

"Thank you," you responded with a slight bow.

With Vincenzo's hand on your back, you made your way to the black sleek car out on the curb.

"I cannot wait to get you home," whispered Vincenzo.

His hands squeezed your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder.

"Patience darling," you hummed, as you turned to face him.

"Patience. Not one of my virtues," he sighed as he leaned down to kiss you again.

Any other time you would have dogged the kiss, just to prompt him into a chase but you were desperate for any physical contact. Right now, you were exerting all self-control but once you got home you were going to pounce on him.

Vincenzo opened the door to your side of the car like a true gentleman. You sat into the black leather seats at felt an overwhelming feeling of giddiness fill you. You had one week with Vincenzo before you had to go back to America so you had to make the most of the time you had.

Both Vincenzo and the driver got into the car at the same time and the ride began.

"JW Marriott Hotel please," Vincenzo instructed.

You looked at him with a puzzled look.

"There is no way I'm letting you stay at the plaza. I want you to sleep well and in comfort," Vincenzo said.

"But, you will be staying with me. Right?"

"Of course."

You moved closer to your fiancé and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer.

"I missed you, babe," you smiled as you leaned your head on him.

"Trust me, the feeling is mutual," he responded.

Four days later

You are an idiot

You sighed as you continued to pack your bags. You had only been in South Korea for half a week and you knew it wasn't worth the wasted time. You had thought that the time spent here would be relaxing and sexy but it was far from it. Every time you wanted to spend time with Vincenzo it was cut short. At first, you understood, not everything could be stopped for you. But now? Now you were fed up

|*|

Strike 1

It was the first day of your and Vincenzo's short vacation and he was showing you around the city. You had no idea where you were but it was beautiful and you felt safe with Vincenzo as your guide. Both of you had dawned clothes for comfort instead of business and you couldn't have been more grateful, witnessing Vincenzo in joggers and a sweatshirt was a dream.

"This park is beautiful," you sighed as you wandered around in the tall trees your arms intertwined with Vincenzo's

"Montmartre is one of my favorites," Vincenzo commented as he stroked your hand.

"I can see why," you giggled before gasping.

"What, what is it," Vincenzo whispered, hearing your gasp put him on high alert immediately.

"A deer," you whispered back pointing to a shadowing patch near a couple of boulders.

Vincenzo's shoulders dropped and he let out a sigh/chuckle that warmed your heart. Getting a completely loosened-up Vincenzo was rare, sometimes even for you. So to see him happy and with wonder in his eyes was a treat.

He watched with wide eyes as the deer slowly walked towards the wooden bridge that was a few meters away from you. However, you didn't notice the deer moving, your eyes were fully on your fiance. He was a little flushed from all the walking and his stubble was beginning to grow, slight scars were on his cheeks from when he used to get into brawls; his hair, which was usually slicked back, fell onto his forehead and for once instead of being a consigliere he was simply Vincenzo.

"W-what," he stuttered as he realized you were staring at him.

"I love you," you said randomly.

His mouth parted slightly before falling into a light smile.

"You can't say that randomly," he chuckled.

"And you're supposed to say it back," you chastised before shoving into him playfully.

His arm wrapped around you and his grip tightened as he kissed your cheek.

"I love you too," he sing-songed back to you.

"How romantic," you laughed.

"Only the best for my Amore," he smiled.

You were overwhelmed with a sudden wave of glee and embarrassment. You turned your face away from your lover and covered your face with your palms.

"Oh no," he whined.

When you looked back the deer had taken off due to a child running to it.

You giggled at the child. You had always wished for a child, a mini-you, or a mini Vincenzo. You stared for a long time until you heard Vincenzo mutter a, 'fuck,' under his breath.

"What's wrong," you asked distantly, eyes still on the small toddler.

"They need me," he sighed.

"Okay," you sighed back.

"I told them not to call me for this entire week. Can't those incompetent fools hand-"

"Vincenzo," you cut him off. "I'm sure it'll be a one-time thing, alright?"

He pouted before nodding and taking off.

"I love you," you called.

"I love you too," he called back.

"Shit," you cursed as you came to the realization.

You walked around and tried to remember the path you came from.

"How the hell am I going to get out of here?"

|*|

Strike 2

You fell onto the bed with a groan. Vincenzo fell right beside you.

Giggling, you rolled over onto him and immediately began to kiss him. Straddling his hips, you sat up and began to take off your shirt. As you had your arms up you felt his hands traveling up and down your waist, caressing and squeezing.

"Sei più Bella di un Angelo," he breathed. You're more beautiful than an angel.

You blushed and rested your hands on his chest.

"My love, you know that when you speak Italian it gets me all hot and bothered," you giggled.

"That's the point," he smiled.

His hands continued to travel down your body, now resting on your thighs. You began to unbutton his shirt and as you did you ground your hips down on him. His lean body was always a source of motivation, his milky skin made you want to scratch it and turn it red.

"I missed you so much," you groaned as you continued to grind yourself onto him.

All of a sudden, he flipped both of you over and ripped off his shirt.

"You have no fucking idea how much I need you," he growled.

He began to kiss your neck, leaving marks in his wake. As you arched your back he took the opportunity to undo your bra. His mouth attacked your breasts and all you could do was take it, your hands combed through his hair and your back continued to arch into him.

"Fuck," you groaned.

Vincenzo continued to descend and soon he was unbuckling your pants. He looked up at you through dazed eyes, slowly taking off your bottoms.

"I haven't tasted you in weeks," he smirked. "I should savor this, shouldn't I?"

"Yes maestro," you breathed as you watched Vincenzo rub his nose onto your clothed clit.

"It's been so long and you remembered my name. Such a good girl," he cooed.

"I could never forget your name," you smiled blissfully.

Vincenzo growled and the vibrations sent shivers up your spine.

He slowly began to peel off your underwear and you waited for him to blow onto your heat, one of the things he always did before he was about to eat you out.

Ring Ring Ring

Vincenzo looked over and saw that it was his phone. You could see the look of apprehension in his eyes.

"Is it important," you ask a little too calmly.

"I don't know," he answers in a quiet, almost embarrassed voice.

"Well, can we ignore it," you question in a hopeful tone.

"Amore I-," he starts while reaching for the phone on the nightstand and checking it. " -don't want to miss anything. I know that we were going to spend this time together but if we get this done then we could spend unlimited time together. There is a reason why this is so important to me."

"I-I know," you stuttered out, still a little dazed over.

"Okay, I love you," he said as he kissed your cheek.

You gawked as you saw him grab his shirt and start putting it on before running out the door.

"I love you too," you whispered to yourself.

|*|

Strike 3

You held Vincenzo's hand as he took you to a nice restaurant on the other side of town.

"This place looks so nice," you commented.

"It is," Vincenzo agreed. "The food is the best."

You smiled as he held the door open for you and as soon as you entered you knew how good the food was going to be. The scents of the ingredients wafted into your nose and made your mouth water.

Vincenzo placed his hand on your back as you both followed the waiter to your seats.

"감사합니다," you smiled as you took the menu from the waiter.

You began to look over the menu as Vincenzo asked for the wine list. Immediately you knew what you wanted.

"Pinot Grigio," he instructed.

The waiter bowed as he went to go get the bottle of wine.

"I think I'm having the beef bulgogi and the fried rice, " you said as you set the menu down.

He continued to stare at you as you looked around and took in your surroundings. Once your eyes landed on him your face began to heat up.

"Stop staring at me," you muttered.

"Why," he laughed.

"Because...I don't know, just stop," you stuttered.

He continued.

“Stop," you whine/laughed.

"But I don't want to," he chuckled.

"Vincenzo," a voice called.

The voice captured both you and Vincenzo's attention as you both looked around for the source of the noise. You prayed that it was a mistake and that you heard the name wrong.

"Vincenzo," the voice repeated as the person was revealed.

A woman in a pantsuit was now standing next to your table.

"What," he snapped.

"We need you at the firm," she informed.

"You must be Chayoung," you smiled a tight-lipped smile.

The person constantly bugging us, you thought.

"I am and you must be his fiancé," she smiled back.

You could tell that she didn't like you. She leaned over to Vincenzo and whispered something in his ear and just like that you knew that he was going to leave.

"Amore Mio, I have t-"

"I know," you sighed, cutting him off.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized.

"It's fine," you smiled.

It's so not fine.

He kissed your forehead as he left with Chayoung. You felt a pang in your heart as he walked away and out the door. You cracked your neck and let your face fall into an annoyed look as you felt your eyes sting with oncoming tears.

"No, you are not crying," you muttered as you wiped your tears away quickly. "You're part of the god damn mafia, act like it.”

"Ma'am is it just you now," the waiter came up and asked.

"Oh, uh, yes. I'm ready to order by the way."

|*|

As you continued to fold your clothes you were filled with sadness and disappointment. You had been so excited to spend time with Vincenzo and get a break from the constant stress that your line of work brought but, every day here was just a slap to your face. You thought that you were higher on Vincenzo's list of priorities, obviously not.

Suddenly, you felt a presence emerge behind you.

"I didn't hear you come in," you sighed without turning around.

"What are you doing," Vincenzo asked, confused by your readiness to leave.

"I'm going back to America," you informed as you finished packing.

"Wait, what," Vincenzo exclaimed. "Why?"

"I don't see why not," you explained. "I could be doing more productive things."

Vincenzo came up beside you and began to take things out of your suitcase, effectively stalling.

"Stop it," you demanded.

"What is this about," he questioned.

"Every time we try to spend time together something gets in the way," you informed.

You grabbed the clothes that he had thrown out and put them back in your suitcase.

"I'm not mad," you lied. "But, what's the point of me being here if I'm not even spending time with you. I can work on preparations for a meal with the Triad's leaders, it'll be a more effective use of my time."

Vincenzo looked at you in disbelief.

"I can't control when they need me," Vincenzo sighed.

"Like I said, I'm not mad," you lied again.

"You are though. You do this thing when your mad, you constantly run your hands through your hair," Vincenzo informed.

You could feel your jaw tighten.

"Okay, so," you said with an eye roll, a dash of pettiness seeping through.

"So, you are mad. I really am sorry my love," he apologized.

He walked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, "Please stay."

You paused and sighed. You wanted to, badly, but you felt that if you did then more time would be wasted.

"No," you said firmly.

You finished and zipped up the suitcase before going to grab your shoes. Before you could get there though, Vincenzo grabbed you and brought your back against his chest.

"Please," he begged. "Stay with me."

His hands traveled up and down your sides leaving goosebumps in their wake. He brought his nose to your neck before whispering in your ear, "Please."

You stifled a moan.

"Please," he moaned in your ear.

He spun you around and gripped your waist tightly.

"Please jagi," he groaned again.

His nose continued to nuzzle into your neck and his cologne wafted up. His scent always made you swoon and right now, it was making it hard to control yourself. Vincenzo always knew how to push the right buttons, how to string you along.

Your breath was beginning to quicken and you could feel your legs tightening up. Your pride was beginning to wear thin as your clenched fist slowly relaxed.

"제발 자기야," he begged one final time. Please jagiya.

Just as he moved his face up you slammed your lips into his. You could feel his smirk on your lips and it aggravated you beyond comprehension, he wanted this. He wanted your resolve to crumble, for you to give into him. His hands settled on the side of your face before moving to your waist.

"That's it darling," he smiled as he gripped your hips. "I'm sorry baby."

You whined as he paused discarding his shirt. His slim figure made you want to pounce on him. He began to unbutton your pants and in the blink of an eye, you felt your pants hit the floor.

"Maestro," you whimpered.

"Hmm, I haven't paid you enough attention," he commented as he backed you against the wall. "Have I?"

"No, missed you so much," you whined.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed as his lips connected with yours once more. “I’m sorry.”

"Maestro, please touch me," you begged.

"Touch you? Like this," he smirked as his fingers slipped down and rubbed against your swollen clit softly.

“Mm Hm,” you moaned out.

You gripped his biceps, trying to steady yourself. The pleasure hit you like a brick; you hadn’t touched yourself in a while; you hoped Vincenzo would take all your pleasure.

“You like that? Hm? Do you feel it?”

“Maestro, please. Please, I want you,” you groaned.

“Wait, baby,” He smirked, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. “I have to show you how sorry I am. A woman like you deserves all of my attention. Don’t you?”

You moaned in response, feeling his pants rub against your heat, you willed your hips to move more so you could feel more friction.

“Grind yourself into me, baby. Show me how much you missed me,” Vincenzo commanded as he sat on the edge of your bed.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and moved your hips the best you could. Back and forth, left, right, and in circles. Pants and mewls fell from your lips as the friction did little to satiate the hunger growing in your abdomen. Vincenzo took the chance to rid you of your shirt and bra, practically ripping the fabric and splitting your shirt in two. His mouth quickly found your right nipple and he began to suck and lick, occasionally nipping at the supple flesh.

“Maestro,” you whimpered. “I need more, please.”

“And you deserve more, don’t you,” he smiled as he rolled your left bud in between his thumb and index finger. “You’ve been my good girl even when I wasn’t a good fiance to you. I’m so proud of you baby.”

His tongue felt around your neck to feel your pulse before sucking on it as he kneaded your ass.

“My good girl,” he groaned in between kisses.

“Your good girl,” you repeated.

He hummed before moving you to the head of the bed. His fingers lightly trailed from your collar bone, down to your cleavage, and found their home on your hip. His dark eyes met yours and stayed on them as he leaned down to kiss your chest, you whimpered under his gaze and rolled your hips.

“Stay still,” he commanded. “Be patient my love, or do I need to tie you up?”

Your thighs clenched at the suggestion and Vincenzo noticed.

“Oh,” he smirked. “You want that?”

“Yes, yes, please. Please yes,” you groaned.

Vincenzo reached over to the floor and grabbed his tie.

“I can’t believe you were going to leave me,” he growled as he weaved his silk tie through the headrest. “You’re mine. You can’t leave me…I won’t let you. I’m gonna make you regret even thinking about leaving.”

He finally tightened the silk tie around your wrist then around the headboard, knotting it with frightening expertise. His pale hands caressed yours in a way that made you feel safe regardless of the terrible things he’d done. The silk rubbed against your skin in a comforting, familiar way, kissing your skin as it irritated it.

Vincenzo leaned back and admired you, hands never leaving your body. His eyes trailed over your heated form, taking in the way your chest rose and fell and the way your body reacted to his touch. How you leaned into it without realizing it.

“Maestro, please,” you groaned. “Please don’t leave me like this.”

“I would never,” he smirked, only slightly teasing you.

His hands trailed down from your hip to your knees, allowing him to bring his face to your calves. You began to feel soft pecks and licks on your calves as Vincenzo worshiped your body. His tongue trailed up, up, up until it found itself on your inner thigh. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin and he smirked when you jumped at the feeling.

“Please, don’t tease me,” you whined.

“I will do what I want,” his growl accompanied by a sharp slap to your thigh and you gasped as soft pain blossomed.

All of a sudden, you felt a light breeze on your core and then a kiss. Vincenzo placed your legs on top of both shoulders, his hands then found a home around your waist, holding you there.

“Fuck, can’t believe I haven’t tasted you yet,” he groaned, kissing around where you wanted him most.

His tongue immediately found your clit making you throw your head back and roll your body. Your nerves caught fire, your arms pulled at the tie, and your breathing became erratic under Vincenzo’s ministrations. His fingers replaced his tongue as his mouth moved to your cavern, his tongue gave an experimental lick to your entrance before diving in. Vincenzo let out a guttural groan at the taste of you.

Vincenzo’s wet muscle explored and tasted your sweetness as a pleasurable pressure built up in your abdomen. You looked down, wanting to see your Master. You watched Vincenzo’s actions, his usual clean hair was now a mop of black, his pale arms flexed around your thighs as he used them for support, and you could see his back muscles working to hold him up. You gasped as you noticed him grinding down onto the bed, searching for his own pleasure as he pleased you.

Vincenzo kept his fingers on your clit as he stopped making out with your pussy, rubbing in small, fast circles. He looked up at you and you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten up. His face was flushed red and he was out of breath, he watched you with a certain look of admiration. He smiled up at you before kissing your inner thigh.

“Are you gonna cum, Angelo?”

“Fuck, yes. Feels so g-good. Please don’t stop, Maestro, please,” you beg.

“It feels good,” he teased.

“So good,” you confirm trying to focus on his words instead of his digits on your clit.

“What if I stopped?”

“No no no no, please don’t,” you gasp. “Please please!”

“Stay with me,” he asked. “Stay. Don’t fucking leave me.”

“Will you stay with me,” you countered.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’ll stay with you. I won’t leave again.”

He rubbed your clit faster and his lips found yours. Your body spasmed at the sudden stimulation.

“Who do you belong to, mia bella?”

“You,” you whined out.

“Who?”

“Maestro,” you cried as you came. Your orgasm hit you like a bat. Pleasure dripped from your fingers and turned your body into liquid.

Vincenzo brought his body up and kissed your neck. He ground his hips into your core, his pants bringing friction to your southern regions; overstimulating you.

“Do you feel what you’re doing to me? Huh, baby? Do you feel how hard you’re making me,” he breathed into your ear.

“Please fuck me,” you whispered.

“Say it a little louder baby,” he commanded.

“Please fuck me,” you repeated a little louder.

Vincenzo’s pants fell onto the floor, followed by his underwear and he practically hissed at the feeling of his hard-on being free. His hand stroked his cock, his tip glistening with pre-cum. He nestled his hands under your knees and pulled you down to meet his hips. His cock rubbed against your folds, coating it with your juices and sending Vincenzo into a frenzy.

He leaned down and placed his hand near your head to stabilize himself. His lips planted themselves on yours once more before delivering a powerful thrust, burying himself in you.

“Hng,” you moaned as his thrusts continued.

You felt a stinging sensation on your thigh as another harsh slap was delivered.

“Do you feel how much I love you yet,” Vincenzo panted. “Huh?”

You arched your back in response feeling his cock hit your cervix. He wanted you to know how perfect you were, how much he loved you and wanted to be with you, how much you meant to him. He loved the way he could get you, how he easily could turn you dumb with just a few touches.

“Do you? Fucking answer me,” he snarled as his hands wrapped around your hair, pulling your head to the side and baring your neck to him.

His onslaught of pleasure never ceased as he ravaged every part of you.

“Yes, I’m sorry maestro, I’m s-sorry,” you stuttered out as a particularly harsh thrust was delivered.

You wrestled with the tie above you as your desire to touch Vincenzo increased. You wanted to feel his skin and scratch his back, wanted to feel his muscles work and be able to pull him in to kiss you. You wanted to taste him.

“Maestro,” You cried. “Want to touch you.”

Vincenzo grinned and ignored you, all that could be heard from him were grunts of pleasure. Sounds of skin on skin paired with the smell of sex, mixing with small traces of Vincenzo’s cologne, and your perfume sent your mind into a trance.

“Please,” You babbled, “Please untie me, plea-ah!”

The pad of his thumb met your swollen clit, gentle circles and the harshness of his thrusts made your mind even number, the contrast too great.

“Please, Please, Please,” you begged dumbly.

Vincenzo loved it when you begged. The tingles it sent down his spine and into his cock were beyond delicious. Your whiny, breathy, and raspy words tied his core in a luscious knot that both pleased and confounded him.

He undid the tie frantically and threw it onto the floor. His hands found your waist and gripped it tightly before flipping you over and harshly lifting your pelvis back up to his groin. Pleasure shot through you at the new position and two quick, sharp slaps were delivered to your ass, no doubt leaving a mark.

Your juices dripped down your thigh and onto the sheets leaving a vulgar wet spot in between your legs. Vincenzo’s grunts got louder and he found his hands wrapping around your hair and pulling it until your back met his chest.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he rasped. “You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Your hands found the headboard and your pussy fluttered around Vincenzo’s cock. You wanted badly to respond but his cock had a way of frying your brain and he loved it; turning you into his personal little whore had become Vincenzo’s favorite hobby.

Vincenzo’s lips found your neck as his hands stayed in your hair to hold you in place, his other on your waist. Every nip and lick he gave your neck sent shockwaves of euphoria to your pussy, his plump lips leaving trails of saliva in their wake as well as red hot pleasure.

“Maestro, Maestro,” you called out like a mantra.

“My beautiful little angel, just wanting Maestro to care for them,” he cooed out, his words contrasting his actions. “I’m here baby, and you're going to take everything I give you. Aren’t you?”

His left hand moved from your hip and down to your sopping core. Harsh circles met your clit and you felt your vision getting blurry.

“Cum…going…cum…Maestro please,” you gasped out, craning your neck to see him.

Vincenzo met your efforts and placed an open-mouth kiss on your lips, tongue delving into your mouth and encircling yours. The lack of oxygen increased your pleasure ten-fold and brought your orgasm crashing down on you, bright fiery red pleasure clouded your vision as your body fell limp against Vincenzo.

“So hot baby, always so hot for me,” his grunts becoming whines.

His hand moved from your core to your mouth and your senses were flooded with your taste. His fingers played with your tongue as his hot breath fanned over your ear. You feel his abdomen quiver against your back and notice the falters in ministrations, his grunts and moans becoming whines and whimpers.

“Fuck baby, keep squeezing me like that,” he whimpered. “Just like that.”

Your pussy is hit with an onslaught of quick, sharp thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Vincenzo whines out.

His arms tense and squeeze you as he lets out a guttural moan, ribbons of white, hot cum spilling from the tip of his cock and into your womb. One hand holds your stomach while the other sweeps your hair from your neck, soft kisses meet your nape and you smile as you feel his smile on your skin.

“Don’t leave me,” he says finally against your nape. “Please, please don’t. Stay with me.”

More kisses are placed across the other side of your neck as his fingers trace the sides of your abdomen. You look back and as you lay in his arms you notice his flushed state. The red in his cheeks where still there, evidence of the physical activities that had just taken place, his hair is sticking up in abnormal places, and his lips had remnants of your lipstick. He looked like a sex god.

“Okay,” you whisper. “But, please don’t go again and spend time with me.”

“I promise,” he agrees.

|*|

A/N: please leave me some feedback <3

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4-ln4 · 7 days ago

Note

part 2 of robby’s sister plzzz!! it was so good💖💖

live without -j.abbot

summary: you moved to UMPC ED, and obviously you don't need jack, and he totally doesn't need you.

pairing: jack abbot x fem! robinavitch! doctor! reader (probs late twenties/ early thrities)

warnings: general pitt themes, nothing really bad it's mostly just u and jack longing for each other but not admitting it lmao

a/n: thanks for requesting! banners from my good friend @no-144444 !

part one -> gone

You could live without Jack Abbot. That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

You walked through the halls of the UPMC emergency department, blood soaking your scrubs despite the surgery gown that clung to your body, you just wanted him to be there. You wanted him to send you that tiny nod, the one that made you breathe.

“Alright?” Dr. Rory Cassidy, your new attending doctor, asked as you pulled off your gown and gloves. He was sweet. He had the same sunken eyes your brother did, the same fear and tension in his body, but he wasn’t Robby. He was someone else. Someone new. He kept the ED running with a balance. Equal parts smoothness and cleanliness. He kept the morale up and the wages high. They had the best retention rate of any hospital in Pittsburgh, and you understood why. The bonuses and insurance plans were good, great, even. The building was modern and clean. The people were kind. Even the med students were respectful and somehow egoless. The hospital was less understaffed than your previous, so you had been put straight onto the day shift. The wait time was 5 hours at the most.

So why did you miss the chaos of the Pitt? Yes, maybe it was partly the people, and partly the fact that your new set schedule meant pulling doubles was harder to swing, so you were left with those hours of silence, hours in the dark where you thought everything over and wondered if you’d done the right thing. Wondered if what you gave up was worth it.

The crisp air of Pittsburgh assaulted you as you walked out of the packed waiting room, receiving many nasty looks. Look, they couldn’t blame you for needing to go home.

Your walk back was silent, thanks to your dead headphones, so you tried to listen to the sounds of the city to keep those internal battles at bay. Cars racing by. Music playing from a bar. People’s laughter bouncing off the streets. Voices coming out of windows. You imagined what everyone around you was doing. Maybe in those lit-up windows there was a couple just moving in, in another there could be a divorce being finalised. Maybe there was a little kid watching the masterpiece that is Tangled in one of those rooms. Maybe there was another kid and her older brother playing chess and laughing- no. You shook that particular thought away.

You’d moved apartments. The new one was nice. In-unit washer and dryer, 2 bedrooms, big kitchen, and a nice view. It was still a little empty considering you’d just moved in, but you liked it. You went through the notions, grabbing the meal-prepped shit you’d made, turning on the airfryer and pouring it in, hoping it comes out decently edible. Put the rice into a bowl and heat it in the microwave. Grab a beer from the fridge. Whatever show was on became what you were watching, but still, your brain looped back to a particular doctor in the Pitt. Greying curls, gruff voice, resting bitch face that somehow made his smile look even more beautiful. You missed him. You wished he was here, listening to you speak about your day and how you feel like you can’t connect with your new co-workers because you’re hung-up on your old workplace. It was like some fucked up break-up that you couldn’t get over.

You flicked through some channels. Tangled was playing on the youth channel.

You sat and watched. You wished things were different.

He could live without Y/n Robinavitch. That’s what he told himself anyway.

The Pitt was silent. Robby was silent. Everyone had picked a side, and it was you. Everyone was keeping Robby at arm’s length, and to be honest, he felt bad for the guy. But he was still so angry. How could he say that to you? How could he say all of those horrible things and not apologise immediately? How could he dim your light like that? Jack wished it had all gone another way, he could’ve gotten to you quicker and convinced you that staying was worth it. He could’ve worked harder at it, and shown you how much brighter you made the Pitt. He didn’t, and he couldn’t. So he just trudged on with his night shift, probably grumpier than before. That crease in his brow didn’t disappear after the sun came up like it used to when he knew he’d be seeing your face walk in those ED doors, because you didn’t walk in those doors anymore. You didn’t work at the Pitt anymore, you weren’t part of his life anymore, and that hurt.

“Dr. Abbot?” Ellis was at his side in an instant. Night shift was close-knit, they weren’t scared of Abbot like all the day shifters were, mostly because they’d seen him trip over his own feet because of you. “Alright?” she asked as they walked in. 3 hours of sleep, a workout, and black coffee were his plans for his day-off, so he wasn’t exactly buzzing to get out of work. Everyone knew he had a resting bitch face, but it got worse when he was like this.

He sent her a nod, dropping his bag off his shoulder, still dressed in his black scrubs. He wasn’t bothered to change, he’d shower when he got home. “Alright,” he nodded, packing his things into his bag. She stared for a second. He sighed. “I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” he asked.

“Missing Y/n, but so is everyone,” she shrugged. Jack’s back straightened and he sighed again. “You’re off tomorrow, right?” She asked, her tone turning into something Jack knew too well. She was planning something. He nodded. “Y/n’s working at the UMPC emergency department. You should go over tomorrow and try to talk to her. She’s been ignoring everyone’s messages.” Ellis admitted.

Jack shook his head, groaning. “She’s well within her rights to ignore us, I don’t know if you noticed but not one of us tried to stand up to Robby for her-”

“You did,” Ellis stated simply. “You told him to walk away. He just didn’t listen-”

“And he still said all that shit to her, so what difference does it make?” He gritted out, his voice low and irritated. They stared at each other for a moment, he noticed the crowd at the nurse’s station all watching the exchange. He made eye contact with Dana, she nodded at him. Do this. She mouthed. For you, not for us.

It nearly knocked him on his ass. He’d been through a lot. He’d been through war, he’d been through fighting, he’d saved a man's life with nothing more than a pen and a plastic bag. He’d been a man in control for so many years. He’d spent his free time trying to convince himself that love wasn’t going to happen for him, not for a second time. He would just put his head down and enjoy the rest of his life with his friends. Of course it was you who could knock him off his carefully created plan. Of course it was you who made him feel more alive than any trauma call could. Of course it was you who he’d fallen for, body, mind, and soul. Those small smiles when you got through a particularly tough trauma call. Those smirks of pride when your call was picked over someone else's. Those grounding touches you gave him as you both worked on a patient, the ones that nearly brought him out of it, but also made him feel so wanted. You, in general. Your kindness, your happiness, your passion. It was infectious, you were infectious. He blinked that back and grunted (not unlike a caveman) and walked out of there. Santos and Ellis followed. “Are you going to do it?” Santos demanded. “Seriously Jack, we’re worried about her-”

“So do it yourself,” he said simply before walking out of the ED.

He wasn’t going to see you at work. He wasn’t going to impose on your new workplace. He was going to go to your apartment.

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4-ln4 · 7 days ago

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Three Peas in A Pod I

Summary: On your first day, your boss throws your right to the lion's den of awkwardness seeing your exes. Characters: Attending!Female Reader x Jack Abbot x Michael "Robby" Robinavitch. Gloria Underwood. Word Count: 709 Chapter Warnings: Awkwardness.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Chapter 1: We Meet Again

“Slow and steady wins the race.”

You muttered walking with your free hands holding onto the strap of your backpack as you made your way inside the chaos of what was now your new home two minutes late. Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. The chaos of the city would go straight here and nothing brings you better joy than that chaos.

You were met with the same woman who had aggressively been recruiting you since the news of your departure from Presby. Gloria Underwood was every bit of the bureaucratic nuisance you had to deal with back at Presby, the only difference was the fact that your demands and your pay was better than it once was. The given privilege of working Dayshift was also something you took full advantage of.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person.” Gloria smiled, shaking your hands before walking you towards the Emergency Department.

Your eyes linger for a moment towards the emergency room and the all too familiar chaos that came with it. You took a moment to glance at the new faces you were about to spend twelve hours on a day to day basis from now.

“The Chief of Emergency Medicine will be the one to make introductions and help you on your first day. He can be…difficult, but he is good at what he does. I believe it’s only in good conscience that both of our Senior Attending can be difficult but not something you need to worry about.” Gloria continued as the two of you halted in front of the nurses station with a man standing with his back turned to both of you.

“Dr. Robinavitch, I’d like you to meet our new Senior Attending.”

Your breath hitched and your heart fell right through your stomach as the man finally turned and you came face to face with a far too familiar man you’ve tried to forget all those years ago.

There was a moment of silence shared between you, much to the growing concern of Gloria's look between the two of you.

“Do you two know each other?” Gloria inquired.

“Unfortunately.” You spoke first but did not have the strength to specify the actual specifics of your association with the man.

“Gloria, I think I’d know my ex-wife perfectly well even after a decade has passed since we’ve signed the papers.” Robby tried to make light of the situation but somehow made it worse as Gloria glowered at your ex-husband.

You tried your best avoiding his gaze now, already realizing the trap you set yourself into working with him now in the same hospital after a decade apart without communications or updates about each other.

“Heard Gloria’s bringing in a new meat, Babe. A real nightmare of Presby’s, so good luck with that and I’ll see you home.”

Once again turning, you were met with another far too familiar face, another man you’ve shared a past with–one that was far too complicated compared to the amicable separation and eventual divorce from Robby.

Jack Abbot. Met him nearly half a decade after your divorce from Robby, when you felt you were already good and ready for relationships. But somehow you just find yourself getting attracted to far too many emotionally stunted men in your life.

“I see you still remember how I am, Jack.” You quipped watching his stoic face gape before returning back. “He’s an ex-boyfriend, Gloria.” You explained smiling towards the two men that had once meant so much in your life and made you the person you were in this moment.

“Will this be a problem for you?” Gloria questioned, her glare still passing between both Robby and Jack.

“Unless they make it a problem, I think I can deal with working with my two ex’s who I’m also having an inkling of aren't just friends.” You narrowed at how close the two were to each other.

Definitely more than close friends.

“Dating for three years now.” Robby supplied.

“Not like it’s any of your business–abandoning me and all.”

You chuckled, turning your attention right back to Robby, not gracing Jack with a response. It would only make things worse for you and the past

“So, introductions?” You beamed wanting to get this over with.

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4-ln4 · 7 days ago

Text

the safest place in the world - robby x reader x jack

summary: After getting hurt at work, Abbot and Robby take care of you

pairing: robby x fem!reader x jack

words: 2.1k

tags: hurt/comfort, FLUFF, mentions of injuries, mentions of blood, medical inaccuracies (probably)

disclaimer: I don’t have any medical knowledge, if things are wrong that’s why. The pain descriptions are based on my experiences with my migraines. I also tried to keep the description of reader as neutral as possible however I did add that the reader has long enough hair to be pushed away from their face.

author's note: A bit of a break from the smut prompts. This is extremely self indulgent. I want these men to take care of me.

It all happened so fast. One second you’re in Trauma 1, helping Dr. Abbot, Dr. Langdon, and Perlah with an unresponsive patient. The next, you’re on the ground, bruised and bleeding.

The patient - a large, tall man - had been brought into the Pitt unconscious and unresponsive to stimuli. Abbot had called you over into Trauma 1 to help him assess the patient and right as you were getting his vitals the man violently woke up, thrashing around and almost toppling off the gurney. In all his thrashing about you caught his fist to your face which sent you falling back to the ground, your head hitting the floor. Pain flared through your face and the tang of blood filled your mouth.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Langdon called out, reaching out to try and calm the man down. “We need a hand in here!” He shouted loud enough for Robby and Mateo to hear by the nursing station, which sent them running into Trauma 1. Robby noticed you immediately and despite your hands covering your face, he could see blood on your chin and drops on the floor. His heart seized in worried and the room disappeared around him until all he could see was you.

“Mateo help Abbot.” Robby ordered quickly as he moved around the gurney to get to you.

“Sir, I need you to calm down.” Abbot said to the patient, voice raised in hopes of getting through to the him, however the man showed no sign of being aware of his surroundings or the danger he was causing to the staff. Abbot's eyes darted over to where Robby knelt next to you as you shifted on the floor in pain. Frustration flared through his chest. “Dammit, Perlah push 75 of propofol.” Within moments the man was unconscious again.

“Hey,” Robby said softly, alerting you to his presence, your hands still covering your face as the pain made your head throb. As he knelt next to you he did a quick glance over you to look for any obvious injuries. Despite the ringing in your head you attempted to sit up but Robby stopped you with a gentle hand pushing on your shoulder to have you lie back down on the floor.

"Robby…" You groaned into your hands.

“It’s alright, don’t move, let me see.” He took hold of your wrists and pulled your hands away from your face as carefully as he could so he could assess the damage. You winced at the brightness of the overhead lights, your eyes watering, and you took a deep, steadying breath.

The patients knuckles had hit near your eye and his watch had made painful contact with your lips, splitting your bottom lip. There was smeared blood across your chin and your lip was still bleeding. You noticed Robby’s eyebrows come together in concern as his eyes moved across your face, his large hands moving to cup the sides of your head so he could gently move your head around to get a better look. His hands felt warm and comforting against your skin, helping to calm you. You unconsciously leaned your head more heavily into one of his hands, seeking that reassurance as his fingers probed around your skull while he watched your face for any sign of discomfort or pain.

“How’s it look Boss?” You asked in a shuddering breath, the pain pounding in your skull. You couldn't help the tears that filled your vision as your face throbbed with pain.

“Okay, nothing we can’t fix.” He gave you a small reassuring smile - the kind that gave you butterflies typically - but you could still see the worry in his eyes. The hand that wasn't holding your head grabbed onto your shaking hand in a gesture of comfort. "You have a small facial lac under your eye and a split lip."

“She also hit her head when she hit the floor.” Abbot said abruptly as he joined Robby on the floor on your other side after he handed the patients care off to Langdon. Abbot's eyes stayed on you the whole time. He pressed some gauze against your split lip to help with the bleeding and you reached up to take over pressing it against your face. His hands came up to your face, gently pushing some stray hair away to give him a better look.

“I didn't lose consciousness.” You said defensively, knowing that the two of them would probably insist on x-rays and labs. Abbot gave you a dry look, knowing exactly why you were making that distinction. Robby pulled out his pen light and clicked it on swiftly.

“Any dizziness, blurred or double vision?” Robby asked, his hand moving from your head to hold your shoulder as the other hand shone the light over your eyes to test your pupil response.

“No.” You blinked hard at the light which sent tears sliding down your temples. Both Abbot and Robby quickly brushed them away for you.

"Good pupil response, equal and reactive." Robby assessed. "Follow my finger." He moved his finger from side to side and nodded when you complied. "EMO is intact."

“Any headache?” Abbot asked.

“Yeah, my head is throbbing. I feel like my head’s been used for batting practice.” Robby and Abbot shared a quick look.

“Any pain in your neck or back?” You shook your head no.

“Okay, let’s move you to a bed.” Robby said, moving his hand under your shoulder to help you sit up, Abbot doing the same on his side.

“I don’t need a bed, just assess me at the Hub.” The upward motion of sitting sent waves of pain pulsing behind your eyes. You let out a low groan and covered your eyes with your free hand. Concerned, Abbot pulled your hand away so he could probe around your eye, checking for fractures, and you winced. Abbot let out a sharp breath from his nose.

“You absolutely need a bed. And x-rays.” Abbot stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without another word he banded an arm around your back and the other under your knees, lifting you easily into a bridal carry. You groaned in embarrassment and turned your face into his shoulder as he moved to his feet. Despite the likelihood that your head hurt too much for you to walk very far, and being carried was the smartest move in that moment, it didn’t make your coworkers seeing Dr. Abbot carrying you through the ED any easier. The man couldn’t be bothered to wait for a wheelchair and you told him as much.

“You couldn’t have gotten me a wheelchair?” You asked as Abbot rounded the nursing station, following Robby into South 15.

"No. We need to make sure you're okay. I'm not wasting any time." Despite the curtness of Abbot's words he set you down carefully and gently onto the bed in 15.

"I'm fine." You insisted as you shifted a bit on the bed to get comfortable.

"Let Jack and I be the judges of that." Robby said as he closed the door, unintentionally closing it in the faces of your colleagues who had followed you from Trauma 1 to check in and help. Robby pulled the curtain closed without looking back, cutting off everyone's view into the room. You gave Robby some side eye as he came up to stand by the bed.

"People are gonna talk you know." You chastised him. You knew how it would look to everyone else that you'd been secluded in a room with two attendings to deal with a few bumps and scrapes.

"I don't care." Robby said softly as he cupped the back of your head with one hand and placed a kiss in your hair. You hummed in appreciation at the display of affection from your boyfriend.

"Let us take care of you." Jack said as he wheeled a stool over to sit on. He picked up the hand that wasn't pressing the gauze to your lip and kissed your knuckles, soft and gentle. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the pain or probably the realization that that you had two wonderful men who dropped everything to take care of you that had more tears building in your eyes. Surrounded on both sides by your selfless boyfriends you felt safe. It sounded dumb, you knew what happened to you was an accident and the patient wasn't even really awake when it happened so it was unlikely it would happen again, but here on the gurney between Robby and Jack felt like the safest place in the world, like nothing else was going to hurt you. And whatever tried would have to get through Jack and Robby first.

The thought had you letting out a small laugh which bubbled into a sob. More tears spilled down your face and Robby and Jack were on you immediately, their faces twisted in concern as they put comforting hands on you. Robby put a reassuring hand on your shoulder and lowered himself to the edge of the bed to be in your eye line while Jacks palm rested steadily on your thigh.

"I'm fine." You said as best you could around the lump in your throat. "The shock is just wearing off and I'm realizing I'm gonna have a black eye probably and I'm also going to have to fill out an Incident Report which sucks and you two are doing such a good job looking after me and I'm so lucky you're here and I don't deserve it-"

"Hey." Jack said firmly, cutting off your spiral as Robby shook his head at your words.

"Honey no," Robby uttered quietly as his thumb rubbed affectionately across your shoulder. His kind brown eyes held fast on your gaze and the love you saw there helped to erode the emotion caught in your throat. "Jack and I are the lucky ones. You've been this beautiful bright spot in our lives and we couldn't be more grateful."

"And you absolutely do deserve our attention and our love and everything else we can possibly give you. You're not a fleeting thought or a consolation prize. We love you and we aren't going anywhere." Jack's words were filled with a caring finality. He stood up and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. Robby followed suit and leaned forward to kiss your cheek, being mindful of your injuries. You let out a heavy sigh and with their lips on your skin you felt the tension slip from your body. Jack pulled back and purposely made eye contact with you.

"Now for the last time, let us take care of you." You smiled at his loving reprimand and nodded your head, which earned you a smile from him. "I'm going to clean your lip, Robby is going to cleanse and close your facial lac." Robby stole one more sneaky kiss to your cheek before grabbing the supplies.

By the time your x-rays came back clean it was time for shift change and the three of you all went home together. You hadn't missed the curious looks on Samira and Mel's faces when their offers to drive you home were turned down on your behalf by Jack and Robby. You'd have some things to answer for in a few days.

Once you all got settled in at Robby's apartment, Robby helped you dress for bed while Jack heated up some soup in a mug for you. He came into the bedroom with your dinner, complete with a straw, and stopped in the doorway to watch you and Robby get settled in bed.

"Do you think she has enough pillows?" Jack teased as he watched Robby fuss over you, tucking in the blankets and fluffing your pillows.

"You can never be too careful." Robby said back in retort. Jack set the mug on the bedside table and crawled into bed with you both after he removed his prosthetic leg. Your brows drew together in confusion at your dinner being abandoned on the table but Jack noticed and deciphered your look easily.

"Humor us for a second." Jack and Robby scooted closer on the bed until you were all shoulder to shoulder, sitting against the headboard. The two men wrapped their arms around you and each other, taking you into their embrace. Robby pressed his face into the top of your head and Jack nuzzled against your neck. You sighed contently and held on the best you could to their arms.

"We all had a bit of a scare today." Robby mumbled into your hair. "We just want to hold you and remind ourselves that you're safe." Jack sat up to his full height and kissed your temple before he leaned his forehead against it. A smile spread across your face.

"Of course I'm safe. Right here with both of you is the safest place in the world."

dividers by @ cursed-carmine

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4-ln4 · 7 days ago

Text

(inspired by @oldermenfucker) sometimes hyperspermia!robby will just... he'll just keep fucking you.

it doesn't matter that his back is aching because you squeezing around him feels one thousand times better. he's spilled into you three times now–wait. actually, maybe four? he's breathing too hard to remember completely, and you're so full of his cum that his dick feels likes it's swimming in a sea of wet and warm.

he's collapsed on top of you at this point. smothering your body and clutching your figure like this was the last time he was going to see you.

"robby, fuck..." you croaking sob trails of into a few tears, which robby rubs away with his thumb and a kiss to your forehead as he keeps at the steady pace he's grinding into you with. thick and stretching you so wide that you feel like you're going to split open if he manages to drag another orgasm from you. with a lulling head, a you feel more tears well as robby's tip feels like it's reaching a new record inside you. "s-so big–ah–shit, i can't..."

holding you cheek, robby tries to shush your slurred whines with another kiss. you keep sounding off anyways, the words leaving you even more mushed together and tearful than before.

"i know, baby–jesus–i know. 'm almost done, i promise. doin' so good for me. taking me nice 'n deep, aren't you? hey. hey, look at me. right here."

blinking to focus your vision, you drag your stare to robby's. his brown eyes bore into you, forehead pressing against your's as your noses bump. the gaze he emits glazed with pride yet hooded with a drunk amount of fervid satisfaction.

after a few more thrusts, your intertwined stares cause robby to come again, flooding the flood. he groans and huffs with slight wheezes, legs shaking just as bad as yours while keeping his eyes on you the entire time. letting your hole milk and guide him through the peaks that pools tears in his own eyes.

when he finished, robby uses the last of his energy to peek down in between the two of you. a groan grates out of him at the complete and utter mess of cum and slick dousing where he's still half buried inside you. sliding the rest of the way you out, you whimper as your entrance leaks and leaks with the mixture of him and yourself, lips puffy and swollen and pulsing.

slumping back against you, robby covers your face in tired kisses. he spends a few extra seconds tasting the salty result of your blubbering. storing the flavor and sight of you staring up at him with wet lashes into his deepest memories.

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4-ln4 · 10 days ago

Note

also idk if u want this to be a fic or hcs either way i’m SAT: meeting conrad in freshman or sophomore year of college. he’s not over belly but eventually because of reader he gets over it and falls in love again. (yes i love angst and fluff especially when they’re together)

After Her, There Was You

conrad x reader

WARNINGS: none

This is a LONG story. It’s 2 AM, I’ve been working on this for 2 days, my tumblr keeps glitching and deleting everything, so I’m done. But thank you for the request! I don’t like it but I hope you do! I will start working on the Rafe request tomorrow.

You met Conrad Fisher on a Tuesday.

It was late fall. You were half-asleep in a lecture hall, running on caffeine and survival mode, when he sat beside you—long legs, dark hoodie, quiet presence.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just nodded when you glanced over.

When the professor asked a question no one answered, he spoke up—voice low but confident.

And you thought: Great. Smart and pretty.

After class, he held the door open for you without a word. You thanked him. He smiled. It wasn’t big, but it was something.

That was the first interaction.

After that, you kept seeing him.

In class. In the cafeteria. Once, at the library, where you both reached for the same copy of The Bell Jar.

“You read Plath?” he asked, surprised.

You shrugged. “It was either that or writing another paper about Gatsby.”

From then on, you started sitting together in class. Then studying. Then grabbing coffee after.

He wasn’t loud. He didn’t overshare. But he was kind.

You’d talk about books, and music, and stress—and he’d listen like no one else ever had. Sometimes he’d say something that felt a little too thoughtful for someone you barely knew.

Like:

“You scrunch your nose when you’re focused.”

“That color looks good on you.”

But the one that always left you confused was:

“You remind me of—”

He always stopped himself there. You never pushed him. But the way he looked at you sometimes made your heart skip.

And maybe you were reading into it, but it felt like something was starting.

The signs were small at first.

A name—Belly—on his phone screen one afternoon. A voicemail he let ring, then stared at for a long time.

You weren’t going to say anything. You weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t even sure what you were.

But then there was the notebook you borrowed from his backpack, just to copy a lecture slide. You hadn’t meant to see the page tucked inside.

“I miss the version of her that loved me.”

“I keep trying to forget someone I never really had.”

“Is it possible to love someone and still want something else?”

You closed the notebook after reading the last line.

Something in your chest sank.

Once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it.

He’d look at you and say something kind, then check his phone like he was waiting for a message.

He’d spend hours talking to you, then disappear for a day with no warning.

He never kissed you. But he’d brush your hand when you walked side by side. Rest his head on your shoulder when he was tired. Tell you how much he liked being around you.

And yet… you two never moved forward.

You started piecing it together. The phone. The notebook. The voicemail.

He was still in love with someone else.

You didn’t know her. But you knew enough.

It was late November, the night before Thanksgiving break. You were curled up in his dorm, watching a movie you didn’t care about, his head resting lightly against yours.

And that was the moment you knew you couldn’t keep pretending.

“You still love her, don’t you?” you asked softly.

He stiffened.

You pulled away. “Don’t lie.”

He didn’t.

“I don’t want to,” he said.

“But you do.”

He closed his eyes like he couldn’t argue with that.

And you laughed—a bitter, heartbroken sound.

“You act like I’m something to you. Like this—” you gestured between you, “—is something. And I let myself believe that maybe it could be. But you’re not here. Not really.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

“You didn’t have to,” you whispered. “You were kind. You were… good. That was enough to make me fall.”

His breath caught.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But you did.”

You stood, your hands shaking.

“I’m not staying here. Not with someone who only wants me when she’s not around.”

You left.

He didn’t stop you.

December

You didn’t text him. You didn’t answer when he did.

One message.

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t open it.

You went home for break. You cried more than you admitted. Told yourself to move on. That he hadn’t even kissed you. That it didn’t count.

But you couldn’t forget the way he looked at you. Like you made the world quieter. Like you reminded him what it meant to breathe.

Christmas

You weren’t planning to go to the holiday party your friend dragged you to.

And you definitely weren’t planning on seeing him there.

But there he was, across the room, standing near the fireplace with snow in his hair and regret in his eyes.

He saw you.

And this time, he didn’t look away.

He crossed the room. Slowly. Carefully.

“Hey,” he said, voice barely above the music.

You didn’t answer.

He took a deep breath. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this. And you don’t have to say anything. But I’ve been thinking about what I did. Or didn’t do. And I can’t live with the version of me that let you go.”

Your heart thudded.

“I was in love with her for so long, I didn’t realize I’d stopped needing her. I just didn’t know what it felt like to want someone without needing them to fix me.”

He swallowed.

“And then you showed up. And everything got quiet. You didn’t save me—you made me want to save myself. You made me laugh again. You made me believe in the present instead of wishing for the past.”

You looked down, trying to keep your walls up.

“I was scared,” he said. “I didn’t think I could love someone new without betraying what I had before. But the truth is—I was only holding on to her because I hadn’t found you yet.”

Silence.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I needed you to know… you weren’t a placeholder. You were the first real thing.”

You looked at him.

And for the first time, he looked scared.

Not sad. Not lost.

Just scared—of losing you.

The words hung between you like fog in winter—soft, heavy, impossible to ignore.

“You weren’t a placeholder. You were the first real thing.”

You looked at him. Really looked at him.

“I believe you,” you said quietly.

His shoulders dropped just a little. Hope flickered in his eyes.

“I forgive you.”

Relief passed over his face. Like the weight of it all had been lifted.

But then you kept going.

“I forgive you… but I don’t think we can go back to what we had.”

The words came out steady, but you felt your heart break all over again.

“I don’t think I can be the girl I was before I knew. Before I realized what it meant—that you were giving pieces of yourself to me when someone else still had your heart.”

He didn’t argue. He didn’t beg.

He just nodded. A slow, painful acceptance.

You stepped back.

“You needed time to figure it out,” you said. “And now I need time, too. Not to punish you. Just… to protect myself.”

And then you walked away.

And this time, he let you go—because now he understood why you had to.

Winter Break

You didn’t block him.

You didn’t delete the pictures.

But you didn’t reach out either.

He didn’t text you on New Year’s. He didn’t like your stories. He didn’t chase.

Instead, he gave you silence.

But somehow, it felt different.

Not absence. Not avoidance.

Just space.

The kind of space that said:

I’m still here. When you’re ready.

January

The first time you saw him again was in the coffee shop on your second day back.

You almost didn’t notice him—he was sitting in the corner, hoodie up, reading something with a pen between his teeth.

Until he looked up.

And smiled.

Not a flirty smile. Not a sad one.

Just real.

You nodded.

And that was it.

No conversation. No grand gesture.

February

He started showing up in little ways.

A shared class—he always saved you a seat but never assumed you’d sit beside him.

A study group—he let others talk more, but always looked to you first.

You got sick for a few days, and when you returned to class, he quietly handed you a folder full of notes.

“Just in case,” he said, not meeting your eyes.

You started noticing how different he was now.

Quieter, but not guarded.

Kind, but not trying to impress.

He still looked at you like you mattered—but now, it felt grounded.

Like he’d stopped holding onto an idea and started seeing you.

March

He kept showing up.

No games. No mixed signals. Just consistency.

He remembered things you thought he’d forgotten—your favorite pens, your allergy to cinnamon, how you hum when you’re thinking.

One afternoon, you both got caught in the rain.

He didn’t offer you his jacket. He just held the umbrella over your head, let himself get soaked, and smiled like he didn’t mind.

“You always do that,” you said, shivering.

“Do what?”

“Put everyone else first.”

He looked at you and said, “No. Just you.”

It was a Thursday night when it finally happened.

You weren’t planning to see him that night. You had a paper due, laundry in the dryer, and every reason to stay in. But your roommate had a headache and kicked you out for quiet, so you ended up at the campus library instead.

It was almost empty.

And of course, he was there.

You didn’t even speak at first. He just nodded at the chair across from him. You took it.

You pretended to read. He pretended to write.

But the silence between you had changed—it wasn’t empty anymore. It was full of things that hadn’t been said. Words left over from Christmas. From last semester. From everything.

You were the one who broke it.

“Why didn’t you try harder?”

His eyes lifted slowly from the page.

“When I left. You didn’t call. You didn’t text. You didn’t fight for me.”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t look away.

“Because you deserved more than someone who didn’t know what the hell he wanted,” he said quietly.

You didn’t say anything. Just looked at him.

And that’s when he let go.

“She was my first love.”

His voice didn’t shake, but something in his face did.

“I spent so long believing we were meant to be that I didn’t know how to stop. Even when it ended. Even when she chose someone else.”

He paused.

“And then you showed up. And you were… easy to talk to. Kind. Real. You made everything quieter, like I could breathe again.”

You felt your throat tighten.

“But I hadn’t let her go. Not really. Not fully. I kept trying to act like I was ready. Because I wanted to be. Because being with you felt good. Felt right.”

“So I did all those things—held your hand, touched your hair, let myself fall halfway in love with you—and I told myself it was fine.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“You deserved the whole version of me. And I gave you someone who was still looking over his shoulder.”

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.

“You hurt me,” you said, voice small.

He nodded. “I know.”

“I thought I was special to you. And I was. But I was also… second,” you said.

His eyes closed like the words burned.

“Not anymore,” he said. “I swear to God, not anymore.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, like the words were too heavy to say sitting up straight.

“The day you left, I knew I messed up. I knew I’d let something real slip away while holding onto something that only ever existed in my head.”

“And I didn’t reach out… because I didn’t want to come back the same. I wanted to become the person you thought I already was.”

His voice cracked.

“I stopped chasing a memory. I stopped waiting for something to fix itself. Because the only thing I wanted anymore was a second chance to earn you.”

You wiped your cheek with your sleeve.

“You did hurt me.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“But you also changed. I see it.”

He looked at you—hope flickering, but afraid to take root.

“Conrad?”

“Yeah?”

“If I’m gonna love again, I need to know I’m not rebuilding something broken. I need to know it’s something new.”

“It is,” he said. “It is.”

He reached across the table, slow and careful, and offered his hand—open palm, no pressure.

You stared at it for a long moment.

And then, you placed yours in his and walked out of the library.

You stopped walking when the sidewalk curved, campus lights glowing dim behind you.

Conrad looked at you like he didn’t want to ruin anything.

Like you were something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to reach for yet.

“I want to kiss you,” he said, barely above a whisper. “But only if you want me to. We don’t have to.”

You didn’t answer with words.

You just leaned in.

It was the kind of kiss you give when you’ve waited long enough to know it’s real this time.

When you pulled back, he just rested his forehead against yours.

And for once, neither of you needed to say a thing.

Six Months Later

You were late to class, shoes half-tied and coffee sloshing in your cup—coffee Conrad had bought you. He insisted on walking you anyway, his sweatshirt slung over your shoulders like it lived there now.

“Don’t forget we’re meeting your mom for dinner,” you reminded him as you jogged toward the building.

He smirked, tugging gently at your sleeve to stop you. “You forgot to kiss me.”

You rolled your eyes, but leaned in anyway. “You’re needy.”

He grinned. “I missed you for too long not to be.”

And for the first time, love didn’t feel like something you were chasing.

It felt like something you’d found—and this time, you weren’t letting go.

After editing I didn’t want to do I finished at 2:15 AM 😊🥰🙄💔 it better be worth it cause I don’t even like this story but I love the request idea

taglist: @lindsaynathi0n , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @v4mqvs , @congratsloserr

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