#i think about our interactions and i hope you know i had fun it was nice talking to you about these characters we both love and adored

[miidnighters]

It’s my birthday ! To celebrate, I decided to do the same thing I did last year and put together a little shout out of people I love because it’s the most surefire way to get compliments back in return (I’m kidding!). Thank you so much for writing with me and mashing our barbies together and making this hellsite such a fun place to be.

(special shout out to birthday twin @handspike ! I hope you're having a great day and I love seeing you on my dash and I think you're so creative and yes I did move you to this section immediately after I found out your birthday is the same day as mine <3 )

@92328

We have been rping together since almost day dot and I love your incredible brain so much. Whether it's your OC’s or the Cyber-gang, the amount of thought and care you put into each muse you write is incredible. PLUS I love the different little dynamics we create.

@draconisa

I’m so happy you’re back. I’m so happy we get to play more with our existing connections and dynamics, as well as create new ones (Chase and Charlie? Hello??). I also love snooping on your threads on the dash bc they’re always so fun lmao.

@exquisitexagony

Each and every one of your muses is so interesting to me and I would love to be inside your brain tbh. I love writing together and throwing all of our new muses at each other, as well as building on what we’ve been doing for forever.

@fangmother

I’m so glad you’re back too. Rainer is such an interesting character to me with so many interesting facets. I love seeing the opinions she forms and the hills she chooses to die on (and then how she crawls back from that death).

@idnull

You and I are two peas in a pod, truly. WE connect so seamlessly, and it’s so easy and effortless to write with you. We can come up with a million combinations and none of them are boring, or feel like repetition, which I think is the mark of true seamlessness.

@inrovina

Whether it’s with Xeno or someone on your multi, we have been developing such interesting dynamics - and I think only one of them is romantic, lmao. I love being able to explore those other familial/misunderstanding/I-had-a-crush-on-you-but-turns-out-you-have-a-boyfriend relationships.

@interxstitial

Jiwon, my absolute darling. I love Jiwon so much and I love that every interaction with him (and you) feels so fresh and new through the different verses he has off the bat, and the new ones we create together. It offers so many interesting combinations, which makes writing so fun.

@knightedgales

My darling. Do I know anything about KCD? Nope. Would I lay down my life for Henry? Yes. I am really enjoying the build with Bella. Whether it stays as this close friendship or transitions to something romantic doesn’t matter because it has been so great exploring them together.

@kurjaks

Kurjak and the being that writes him need to be STUDIED fr. The excellent character choices make writing with you so interesting, because it can be so left field and help me think about my own character motivations and reactions in new ways.

@ptternminds

I am INSANE about all your characters and your style of writing, truly. I feel like we bounce off each other so well, and while we’ve only scratched the surface together, I think there’s so much potential in what we can do, which excites me.

@starlyht

My beloved. You are one of like, two BG3 specific rp blogs I still follow, I believe, and that’s truly a testament to your writing and your characterisation. It never feels hard to start something or build something with you, even when I’m still working out how my characters slot into that verse.

@tewwor

I never tire of telling you how much I adore your brain and your worldbuilding. It has been so fun to watch you expand into canons (that I know nothing about lmao) and watch how you’re flexible and creative enough to slot them back in with me.

@tooth--ache

I know we've only been writing for like a literal week, but I feel like we just connected immediately in terms of being in sync with our writing and the rhythm that Howard and Callie have. I've been enjoying our thread SO much and I can't wait to see what else we come up with.

@unlore

I said this to you in DM’s a while ago but I love that you and I are such on the same wavelength with the things that we want to explore and the way we write about our characters. Nothing is off the table, which means our exploration can be so much deeper and well-rounded, which I love.

@valcfar

Val is such an interesting character, truly. I love his backstory, but mostly his attitude. What a man. I love that each of our interactions are so different and that you and I can talk for ages about what if’s and how our characters interconnect together.

@watergals

My beloved. I love all of our connections - the friendly, the romantic, the antagonistic, and how they all seem to connect up somewhere. It’s so much fun writing and exploring connections and throwing things at the wall to see what sticks with you.

@yxkanna

I’m so glad you’re back too! The spectacular relationship of Nick and Bella aside, I’m really having fun interacting with the creechurs with my new muses, and exploring all of your new muses on your multi. You’ve always had such interesting, out-of-the-box ideas and I can’t wait to see more.

And then my other honourable mention loves. I need you all to know that I am so in awe and appreciative of each and every one of you. The care and attention and love that goes into each character blows me away, truly ♡

@absentpublic | @cigarettesandcoffee | @confusionism | @cragsnow  @demonstigma | @dovaeh | @fvzzyelf | @heslistening | @ikharist @joyousdefunct | @lycanus | @pirkstein | @pohlepen | @punchdrunkboi @rennisaturate | @shcrtnsalty | @somebrokenfate | @unhirsch | @unpossession  @whileurmine 

[writing-for-life]

Understanding Our Emotional Investment in Stories

Why Morpheus’ Death Hurts So Much

I’ve been a Sandman fan for decades and definitely had my fair share of crying over that story (despite not wanting it to end differently), so I’m the last person on the planet who doesn’t understand the grief about Morpheus’ death. I’ve also worked as a stage actor and still teach voice production to this very day. To top it all off, I’m a practising and teaching psychotherapist (yeah, don’t ask me about my weird life where I wear different hats on literally every day of the week and then have to reshuffle it all again when the new academic year starts 🙈🤣). So it probably surprises no one that I have a lot of thoughts about the intense emotional reactions we’re seeing in the Sandman fandom at the moment, from all sorts of angles. And I want to make it super clear that I write this not from a place of judgment, but from a place of deep love for stories, storytelling media, the human psyche and how all of these intersect. And maybe also to look at what happens when those connections feel threatened. If that kind of exploration isn’t for you, you think topics like psychological displacement might make you uncomfortable and/or you’d rather process on your own, this is the exit sign…

I think many of us are at the point right now, or have been in the past, when a story we love takes a turn we didn’t expect or want. Sometimes it’s disappointment. Sometimes it’s sadness. But sometimes, it’s something much more intense: rage, depression/despair, or feelings so overwhelming they spill into our interactions with fellow fans and/or our daily lives.

If you’ve noticed particularly strong reactions in our corner of fandom lately, you’re not alone in wondering what’s happening. A lot of people are struggling with very intense emotions around a fictional character/narrative right now.

And that’s because our brains are really quite sophisticated storytelling machines, but they’re also somewhat indiscriminate about what feels “real”. When we become deeply invested in characters and stories, our neural networks fire in ways that mirror real relationships and experiences. The attachment we form to Morpheus, for instance, can activate the same brain regions and hormones involved in our attachments to real people.

So when something happens to a character we love, our brain sometimes processes it similarly to loss or betrayal in our actual lives. The grief is neurologically real, even if its source is fictional.

These, albeit one-sided, emotional connections feel genuine and meaningful to many of us. And they can provide comfort and even models for understanding ourselves and the world. And at the end of the day, that’s the purpose of story.

For some of us, Morpheus represents something very specific: hope for change, the possibility of growth, or perhaps a mirror of our own struggles with identity. And we therefore get invested in the hope that everything will turn out okay for him. Because of course we want to be okay.

So what happens if a character’s arc doesn’t align with our emotional needs or expectations? It can unfortunately feel like personal rejection or emotional abandonment. Or very real hurt.

For some people, stories can serve as fictional spaces where they feel they have more agency than in real life, and you might understand where I’m going with this: It’s a lot of fun to theorise, predict, and imagine outcomes. We invest mental energy in hoping for specific resolutions (the collective sleuthing about every breadcrumb in the lead-up just shows you what I mean 😉). But when the story or adaptation diverges from the narrative we have built in our heads, it can trigger a deep sense of powerlessness that also echoes frustrations from other areas of life.

And that’s particularly acute in adaptation situations, where we feel we “know” how things should go, or we’ve built expectations for the narrative outcome for three years (maybe longer if we’d hoped the show would diverge from the comics—that’s a long time to convince ourselves of a certain outcome). And then those expectations aren’t rewarded.

Projection and Personal Meaning

We inevitably see ourselves in the stories we love, and that’s not a bad thing at all. Sometimes we project our own traumas, hopes, or unresolved conflicts onto characters and their journeys. But when the story resolves in a way that feels counter to our personal healing or growth, it can reopen psychological wounds or challenge our coping mechanisms.

Especially those of us who saw Morpheus somewhat as a metaphor for their own possibility of change, his death can subconsciously feel like a statement about their own capacity for growth.

And his loss can feel just as acute as real-life grief for some people, particularly if they’ve also made experiences with loss in real life. But it’s also a grief that society often doesn’t recognise as valid because “it’s just a story”. And yes, it is just a story, and we should be aware when it starts to affect our mental health and step back if that’s the case. But it’s also important to say: it’s okay to mourn.

And during that process, it can help to consider what the story might represent in us. Sometimes, our intense reactions point to deeper needs or unresolved feelings in our own lives.

Our fellow fans can provide understanding, but we need to be mindful not to project our anger or pain onto others who might have different perspectives. And I’ve seen that happening quite a lot over the past weeks. Just because we don’t agree doesn’t mean we have to be at each others’ throats.

Sometimes, the best thing we can do for ourselves or others when emotions run too high is to step away from discussions, mute tags, or take breaks from online fandom spaces entirely. I mean, I constantly filter tags, follow/unfollow and block/unblock people, but 9/10, it has nothing to do with the person behind the blog but everything with me, and what I don’t want to see at that particular point in time. I remember blocking a lot of people when a certain event affected several fandoms on here. But that wasn’t because I had a problem with those people but rather because I simply couldn’t stomach to see that stuff on my dash anymore, and no tag filtering got a hold of it. So if someone posted a lot about it, they got “muted” (and I often unblocked them again after a while). We owe it to ourselves to curate our fandom experience in a way that makes us feel happy, not constantly exhausted.

And on that note: Mutual support is great, but it can also very quickly turn into an echo chamber that takes on an “us vs them”-dynamic just because we don’t agree about certain points. When that gets entangled with projecting our feelings on people we don’t even know (but we presume they surely can’t have life experience X “like we do”), it gets ugly.

Everyone’s relationship with a story is personal. What feels like betrayal to one person might feel hopeful or otherwise meaningful to another. And that’s okay (as long as communication around it stays respectful).

The Role of Displacement

One of the most significant psychological processes at play in intense fandom reactions (and particularly the ones that don’t always stay respectful) is probably displacement, which is essentially a defense mechanism where emotions from one situation get redirected toward a different, often “safer” target. And stories do provide a psychologically safer place to express difficult emotions than their original, real life sources. It’s often easier to rage about an adaptation (and at someone while hiding behind a screen) than to confront feelings of powerlessness about our job, relationship troubles, or social injustice. Fiction gives us a contained space where we can feel and react without the complex consequences that come with addressing real world problems.

And I’d hazard an educated guess that one of the most common displacement patterns in fandom has to do with control and agency: If someone feels powerless about something in their personal life, they might become intensely angry about narrative choices they can’t change because they trigger the same sense of helplessness. And I’m not talking about a simple, “That made no sense, what were they thinking?” here, but rather anger and disappointment so profound that it basically makes us mentally and emotionally unwell.

But it’s not that alone. If we’re dealing with real-world rejection or loss, we might experience a character’s death as a deep betrayal, and we feel loss and abandonment all over again.

And those of us who experience a lot of unfair treatment in their daily lives might channel that frustration into arguments about what characters “deserve” or how stories “should” resolve. And we have those arguments with people who are in no way responsible for those narrative choices and just see things differently—for reasons that aren’t inherently less valid (that’s why I always want to encourage people to stop generalising what kind of storytelling “we” need in “these times”. There is no “we” in this context, and times have quite frankly always been shit, just in different ways).

In short: If we feel unseen or invalidated in our daily lives, characters we identify (or at least strongly empathise) with suffering, dying or not getting what we feel they deserve can feel like personal attacks on our worth or existence, even if we’re not consciously aware of it. And it takes a lot of reflection and inner work to start noticing when these things are happening, and that they aren’t truly about the story, but about us.

It’s worth gently checking if we might be experiencing displacement when emotional reactions to a certain story feel much more intense than our usual responses to fiction. Or if we find ourselves obsessively thinking about the “narrative injustice”. Or if our anger and grief feel urgent and personal, as if the story choices were deliberately meant to hurt us. Or if we even experience mental and physical symptoms (like insomnia, agitation, or a bout of depression or anxiety brought on by a show or book).

Sometimes, working through the feelings the story brought up can actually help process whatever is bugging us in real life. Other times, addressing the root causes can diminish the intensity of our reactions to fiction. In any case: If it’s particularly severe, it’s absolutely worth talking with either your therapist or a person you trust.

Stories are a gift, but you don’t have to accept it

Ultimately, our capacity to be moved deeply by stories speaks to something beautiful about human nature: our ability to empathise, to find meaning, to care deeply and to invest emotionally in experiences and people beyond our immediate reality (I tangentially wrote about this here as well).

Stories matter because we are meaning-making creatures. The intensity of our reactions (both positive and negative) is often proportional to how much we need the story to represent something important in our own lives, even if that intensity feels disproportionate looked at on its own.

I think it’s possible to hold space for both the genuine pain that story losses can cause while also recognising that seeing things differently, and taking from a story what we need (that includes rejecting a story and moving on before it upsets us too much), are part of what makes fandom a deeply human experience.

[pointsfortrying]

Thinking ab the internet as a graveyard again,

[stardust-and-fries]

Oh boy!! A chance for me to yap about gender at length?!?!!?!? DON'T MIND IF I DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [See tags for details. But be warned... I Popped the Fuck OFF writing this one, it's a doozy!]

Sorry if this is rude, but how do you identify? I looked around a bit and couldn't find anything, my apologies

Not rude! Honestly, I don't know these days! Lots of thoughts swirling around in my head. Maybe this is too much, but also maybe saying something instead of keeping it inside will be helpful... I'll put my gender thoughts under the cut... maybe someone can relate and offer some thoughts lol:

Recently, I came to the conclusion that I'm really not attracted to men at all, and maybe, I never have been. Looking back, I can kind of clearly see that any crush on a guy I thought I had was more like "wow, this person is COOL as HELL. I hope we can be really good friends." And then I noticed, that any crush I had on a girl felt... different. The feeling was totally different, and it still is. Have you noticed how most of the men I draw are quite feminine? I also have no idea what's going on with my gender. I know I'm me, a Yugo, I also can't comfortably say what exactly I am. Though by technicality, I am nonbinary, the word doesn't feel QUITE right to use for me. Maybe genderqueer is better. I've never identified as a man, but I have identified as transmasc and taken T. I really do like the results I've gotten from that. But at the same time, I don't really feel close to "manhood" at all, but something about having a mustache sometimes, like I tend to do, feels right to me still. I also like to wear lipstick and stuff. I don't know. I'm also not a "woman" I don't think, but I identify with more... I don't know, masculine expressions of womanhood if that makes sense? I am very androgynous in expression, in short. So basically I don't know what the hell is going on. All I know is I love women LOL. Can anyone relate to any of this? Any ideas?? I will not be offended by any assumptions you might have lol. Maybe I should just make a comic about this.

[yizholic]

“do you think we’re together in every universe?” 

rafayel raises an eyebrow at your question. 

“like… you think our past lives are aligned in some way? that we’ve interacted in each lifetime before this?”

then you go silent, thinking about the answer to your own questions. 

while rafayel is also silent, he thinks back to the sea, to a missing bride. he briefly wonders if your memories contain the same images as his. he lets himself hope so. 

“anything’s possible, no?” he plays along, “who do you think we were to each other in our past lives?”

“must’ve been a lot. we’ve had many lives together… at least i think…” his eyes search yours for something more, do you really remember? alas, nothing found. you continue, “something scandalous would’ve been fun, no?”

“totally agreed. so a college professor and student.”

you laugh. “and you’d be the professor, you perv.”

“hey!”

“or two heirs of rival kingdoms.”

“two fish… who live in neighboring corals”

“...or in some kid’s fish tank.”

“that sounds like a short life.”

“but it was really romantic, you see. we were in different displays, all the way across the pet store. and then, finally, brought together into the same tank.”

“hm. i approve, cutie. our fishie selves died of starvation very much in love.”

how content the both of you were now. how utterly smitten you had to be with one another, to spend a slow morning thinking of all the past lives you could have spent together. 

your conversation may have ended there, but the idea stays in your minds far into the night.

you take turns interrupting silences, coming up with new past lives. lifetimes spent as cavemen, the first humans on earth—those spent as citizens of an ancient civilization, being the last of their kind. you consider arguments you may have had, your breakups, if you’ve been married, have you raised a child together?

“but, what if this is all a past life? and we go into the next not even remembering this one. does that make this all… meaningless?”

you ask him in the darkness of the bedroom. the whisper travels across one pillow to another.

rafayel knows more about that than you think. for now, he’ll keep it to himself.

“even if it ends up forgotten, the present doesn’t have to be meaningless. i believe there’s something out there that’ll bring us back together once again. after so many lives, we can’t let our streak end here. wouldn’t you agree, my love?”

“yeah. we’ll find each other in the next one. i hope it’s good.”

from underneath the blanket, rafayel’s hand comes between you, with only his pinky raised. 

“what’s this for?” you find yourself interlocking your finger with his anyway.

“this is me, vowing to never let my soul forget yours. to find you in our next life, no matter how long it takes to do so.”

each word flows from him so earnestly, you almost believe that something like it is possible. for a moment, all of your theorized past lives become your reality.

"…and i vow to always let you into my life when you do, and to love you as i have many times before."

rafayel releases your hand. "then it's settled. you can't get rid of me, cutie, even if you wanted to."

[kosher-salt]

Just saw a post that was basically "Hey off of the internet people usually aren't so crazy antisemitic and most of my day to day interactions as a visible Jew are normal, everything is gonna be ok" and I'm making a new post to not derail, but...

I'm super glad, obviously, that this is the case for many of you. But I do think we should be ringing the alarm bells. Because while you enjoy your grocery trips and post office in relative peace (as you ought to), here is a VERY incomplete list of things I have dealt with in the last 11 months.

-assaulted on my way to class, followed, spit on repeatedly (magen David necklace)

-professor took me outside of class and told me I needed to denounce my Judaism (I mentioned in passing my dad's family in an anthropology class)

-same professor refused to accept my final paper for reasons that did not match up with paper, email full of dogwhistles

-same professor told everyone to attend the protests and "teach those zionists to know their place" she is a Black Latina young professor. Yep.

-another professor straight up refused to accept any assignments that mentioned Jewishness (they were assignments about our families). Gave a student who submitted nothing except a picture of a Palestinian flag full marks. Failed me. I am an all As student, btw. Forced to drop.

-the chair of the anthropology department threw my complaints wabout said professors away without due process. His social media is full of blood libel.

-had to miss my finals as I could not physically get to them due to the protests

-followed and harassed in stores

-synagogue was vandalized multiple times

-called a kike while things were thrown at me

-protestors stood outside of my apartment patio with final solution signs

-new apartment, away from campus: friends of roommates harassed me constantly, to the point I could not use common spaces. Roommates told me that's his right because it's his "political view." He didn't even live there.

-new roommate moved in, less than 48 hours before she attempts to stab me, after learning I eat kosher style. "...kosher? kosher?! FUCK YOU" stab stab, etc. Bitch that was my good knife.

-the other roommates tell me to gtfo of the home I'm renting, keeping my rent ("you people can afford to lose money") and destroy a good portion of my belongings while cursing to me random nonsense about Israel. The police took 25 minutes to get there. We live in the middle of the city.

-fun fact: I had never mentioned my political stance to these people and it's not on my face-out social media (very bare bones profiles)

-been disbelieved by everyone I told this to including the police, my school, the leasing company, and my now ex best friend of 7 years

-cursed at in a store when I asked if there was a kosher section

-told nobody likes Jews because we bring down the vibe and have a victim complex. My knuckles are healing just fine after that, btw, thank you for asking! She is not.

I don't know how to request the 7th off from my school without basically incriminating myself with a threat of violence. There is no world where I just sit there when a classmate says "happy October 7th."

Hope this helps.

[oldermenfucker]

Maldives; The Land of Chaos / M. Robinavitch

Summary: you planned this trip a year ago when you had no idea you’ll go to it as exes, especially not after the nasty breakup you experienced.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smutttt, angst, exes to lovers, angry!robby and equally angry!reader, TENSION, jealousy, alcohol consumption, oh but there’s only one bed:(, pining and yearning cause they’re not done yet oops, unprotected sex, breeding ofc, mean!robby a little, fingering, oral(F!), English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 7.3k+

an: this is my piece of work for the Fun In The Sun collab by @robbyology ! Hope y’all enjoy this fic🤭 Comments and reblogs are always appreciated💕 and a very special thank you to my babe @m-robinavitch for brainstorming with meeeeee<3333322

Fuck.

  Yes, fuck is right, so is any other curse word you can think of, as you thank the lady and grab your plane ticket to read it. Fuck. Your seat is next to him, right next to him. If you weren’t so pissed at him, if you made it to this trip as a couple, you would have been overjoyed.

  Not now, though, not when you remember how happily you reserved these seats so you would sit next to each other all throughout the flight. But you weren’t exes back then, and you didn’t experience one of the nastiest breakups of your life.

  “Fuck,” Robby sighs, scratching his chin as he looks down at his own ticket, shaking his head as he walks back to the lady behind the counter, “Listen, Ma’am, can you please check if there are any seats available–“

  “Sir, I’ve checked it for the lady next to you and gave her the same answer: no. Your seats were booked under your name, and the flight is full. We can’t change your seats, I’m sorry.”

  “Fuck,” he groans this time, throwing his head back as he tries not to look so miserable, but you can see it in the way he scrunches his face and runs a hand through his hair. 

  “Move, man, we wanna get our tickets too,” someone nudges Robby gently, and you roll your eyes at the interaction before walking away, hearing a quick ‘sorry’ and a string of curses as he tries to catch up with you.

  “Why are you following me?” You turn around abruptly, making him crash into your chest, but you are lucky he is fast enough to grab you by his arm around your waist and stop you from hitting the ground, “Watch out, grandpa.”

  “I’m not following you, kid,” he lets go of you immediately — as if your skin burned his hand — before he puts some distance between you. “Don’t get your hopes up, this is just a trip.”

  “Yeah? Then why are you following me around with your tail between your legs, Robby?” You glare at him, scoffing when he rolls his eyes and runs a hand over his face, “Don’t do that, it makes you look like you are a breath away from cardiac arrest.”

  “You might send me to one if you keep talking to me like that,” he sighs, his eyes meeting yours, gaze hardening when he sees your smug smirk, “I’m not following you, don’t flatter yourself, kid. Our seats are next to each other, it’s best if we board the plane together.”

  “I thought we were on this trip on our own, Robby,” you cross your arms over your chest, biting your cheek in annoyance, “You do remember that we broke up, right? Maybe the old age is getting to you finally.”

  “Very funny, sweetheart, but the only thing that’s getting to me is your insufferable attitude,” he says, walking past you with an innocent-looking grin, but you know him better than this, “And it wasn’t a we decision, you broke up with me.”

  “Don’t fucking start,” you grumble behind him, grabbing your suitcase and bolting past him towards the chairs without sparing him a single glance, sitting down on the only chair available in the row you saw him going to, “Oh, so sorry. You wanted to sit here?”

  “Forget about it,” he snaps at you, giving you an annoyed smile as he stands next to the seat, looking out of the big window, watching the planes land one by one. He stands with his hands in the pockets of his worn-out jeans — jeans, yes, because it’s Robby and he can’t wear something a bit comfortable even for a flight.

  You sigh and throw your head back against the edge of the chair, looking up at the high ceiling while you count the lights slowly. By accident, of course, you glance at Robby. It would be a lie if you said he didn’t look good. He does look good, straight out of your favorite fairytales, looking good, and it makes you anxious.

  He’s always had that power over you, and he knows it, or perhaps knew, given how shitty your relationship turned during the last few months of it. He knew he could consume your mind all day, making your brain shut down with full trust and simple words when he was around you, having you tremble with pleasure in many different ways.

  You take another look at him, noticing the twitch in his fingers before he buries them in the hair at the back of his head, scratching his scalp and taking a deep breath while you are busy eyeing him up and down.

  “You’re staring.” He announces, turning his head slightly to catch your eyes, the ghost of a smug smirk forming on his face already. You don’t shy away from his gaze, especially not when he notices you pulling on the skin of your lips, watching him closely as his grin widens, “Oh, you are, sweetheart.”

  “I am not,” you hiss, frowning as he shakes his head and leans down to be face to face with you, raising his eyebrow at you when you bite your lip and give him a daring look, “I’m not staring.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  It’s his time to stare at you, watching the quiver of your lips closely and the twitch of your eyelid. There is something hidden behind his big brown eyes, a longing perhaps, or a resentment he’s developed for you.

  “Sir, take my seat,” the old man next to you says, giving the two of you a disgusted look as he shakes his head, “You have a lot to talk about, it seems.”

  “Um, no—“

  “Sit down, don’t make a scene.”

  Robby thanks the guy and sits down immediately, not really wishing to sour his mood more than it already is. He spreads his thighs, his jeans grazing your pants, making you shudder at the barest contact.

  “Do we really have a lot to talk about?” He nudges your knee with his, trying to lighten your mood even though he hates to be here — or so you think.

  “No, we don’t.” You shift your knees to the side, crossing your arms over your chest, squeezing your eyes shut when you feel him let out an annoyed sigh. You do have a lot to talk about. There are many, many things you should talk about, like how his jealousy would piss you off, and he would leave for the night when you confronted him about it. Yeah, you definitely have a lot to talk about, but you don’t want to. Not now. “What are you doing here, Robby?”

  “Going on a trip I’ve paid for?”

  “I had to beg you to pay for your half because you thought we should relax and enjoy our time in the house, yet here you are dragging your ass all the way over to the Maldives.”

  “What is your point, kid?” He turns around fully in his seat to look at you, the lighthearted intentions gone as his tone drops, “I’m here now, you can’t get rid of me, I’m going on this trip.”

  “Don’t call me kid, Robby, I fucking hate it.” You don’t, you just hate how many memories it brings back. “And that’s my point! Why are you going? It’s not like you’re dying to experience this. So? Are you here just to make my life hell?”

  “I deserve this break as much as you do, if not more, kid.” You roll your eyes as he leans on the back of his chair, looking forward, “Not everything is about you.”

  “Oh, hahaha, of course it isn’t.” You sound just like him, and you know it irks him; he has rubbed his personality all over you, and it isn’t a good thing. “But this time it is, isn’t it, Robby? You always say you are too tired, that nothing can ever be good enough to leave the town for a break, but you are here.”

  “I won’t leave because you’re bitching in my ear, I won’t. We will go there and you’ll see me every fucking hour for four days. Get ready for it, sweetheart.”

  “I fucking hate you.”

  “No, you don’t,” he smirks at you, side eyeing you, watching how you seethe silently, “You actually love me, which is really embarrassing for someone who tries to act tough all the time.”

  “I only act like that around you ‘cause you hurt me, asshole,” you spit the words out, throwing one leg over the other, knocking his knee harshly, giving him a fake pitiful look, “Oh, no, sorry, did I hurt you? Boo-fucking-hoo, Robby. I don’t care, just like how you didn’t care.”

  “I’m not leaving,” he says, clutching his knees, rubbing his palm over the place you just hit, inhaling deeply, “Your efforts are in vain, kid. Good luck.”

  “Fuck you,” you hiss, standing up to grab your suitcase when you hear your boarding announcement start through the speakers, “I’m gonna make this trip hell for you.”

  “I would like to see you try.”

  •••

  “Ma’am, I need you to check the villas again. I’m sure there is at least one villa with two bedrooms. I’m begging you, please.”

  “Look, Mrs. Robinavitch—“ you glare at her so hard you are sure your eyes are about to pop out of your skull, but she isn’t phased, she only keeps talking, “We are fully booked, meaning there is no other option for you other than the villa you chose a year ago. Okay? Please enjoy your stay.”

  “Thank you,” Robby cuts you off before you start begging the receptionist more than you already have, grabbing the key cards and pointing at the driver who is waiting for you to get in the cart to take you to your villa.

  Robby extends his hand to you after you thank the lady and walk away, but you slap it away and get in the cart without glancing at him, hearing his sharp laughter as he takes the seat next to you, grabbing the front seat when the driver starts taking you to your assigned spot.

  “So I was thinking—“

  “We’re fucked already—“

  “Can you listen for a second? You’ve become so miserable since you started your senior year,” Robby says, looking at you from beneath his lashes, “I was wondering if we could still do—“

  “I’ve always been miserable, and no, we can’t do the shit we booked a year ago when we were too gooey for each other. I’m not gonna go on a date on the beach with you.”

  “We paid… two thousand dollars for that one—“

  “We did?!” You gasp, hiding your face in your hands when Robby nods, “We can’t go.”

  “We have to—“

  “We don’t! We can just… go our separate ways! We don’t need to do anything together—“

  “This is your villa, Mr. Robinavitch.” The cart stops in front of a deluxe over-water villa, and you are reminded by how real this trip actually is, “I’ll bring in your stuff, please, enjoy.”

  You jump down instantly, snatching the key cards from Robby before marching towards the door, swiping the card, and entering the villa; it’s huge. There is a full-length mirror in the hallway, one bathroom on your left, and a few steps to reach the bedroom.

  “Robby?”

  You stand there, in the middle of the room with a defeated look on your face, hands on your hips as you stare at the California King bed right in front of you — huge, blindingly white, clean and ready to be used.

  You could have gotten the best dick of your life if you hadn’t broken up with the man behind you.

  “You’re taking the couch,” you point at the foot of the bed, walking on the patio that connects to the ocean with a staircase, “Ooo, lovely.”

  “I’m not taking the couch,” he follows you, sitting on the said couch, putting his ankle on his knee as he spreads his arms over the back of the cushions, looking at you while you have your back to him. If only he could do it without being reminded of how you weren’t his anymore.

  “Yes, you are, it’s not up for debate.” You turn around, leaning back on the railing, mimicking Robby’s smile, “The bed’s mine after the shit you put me through, so—“

  “The bed is big enough for five grown adults; you don’t need all that space for yourself.”

  “Yes, I do. You sleep on the couch.”

  “Nope,” he shakes his head, walking toward you, standing in front of you, close enough that you can smell his cologne, “I’ll sleep right next to you.”

  “I hate you,” you grin at him, puffing out your chest and taking a step closer to him, his tummy barely brushing against yours, but you can feel the warmth of his body already.

  “I hate you more, sweetheart.”

  •••

  You take off your clothes the moment Robby slips inside the shower, tiptoeing toward the outside pool you have on the patio next to the staircase leading into the ocean.

  Robby being here won’t change your plans. You wanted to skinny dip in a clean pool and watch the sunset a year ago, and you still do. So, without caring about Robby — you definitely care, it’s kind of a show now — you slip into the warm water, sighing at the feeling enveloping your body.

  You lean on the edge of the pool, resting your head on your forearms while you watch the clouds change colors as they move in the sky. This is exactly why you planned this trip a year ago. The calmness, the silence, the soft breeze, and the smell of the ocean. And a smoking hot ex in the shower.

  Yup. Totally how you imagined it.

  You hear his footsteps: slow, deliberate, and determined. There it is, the beating of your heart and the hope that turns into reality when he approaches the patio. You have set up the steps for him to follow, and he does.

  “Enjoying the view?” He asks, joining you in the pool, but he doesn’t swim to your side; instead, he mimics his earlier pose, leaning on his elbows on the edge of the pool.

  “Yeah, until you came and ruined my moment of peace.” 

  Big mistake, you shouldn’t have turned around to look at him. Fuck, fuuuuuuck, he looks good. Naked as the day he was born, his lower body is covered by the water, his broad chest catching the peachy hues of the sunset, and his eyes twinkle as he stares at you.

  “You’re staring,” he says, running a hand through his hair — still damp from his shower, and fucking hell, the few strands that cling to his forehead are driving you nuts — before his eyes drop to your collarbones and lower, catching the sight of your tits under the water.

  “You wish,” you reply quietly, not knowing how to mask your emotions while he is only two meters away from you — fully naked by the way — and looking at you like you are the reason the sun goes down and the moon comes up, “I’m just enjoying my pool.”

  “So am I,” he shrugs, still not looking into your eyes, running his tongue over his teeth — you can follow the movement even though his mouth is closed, “By staring at you.”

  “Keep looking and I’ll bite you.”

  “That doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” he smiles at you, watching as you scoff and shake your head, swimming to his side before dragging a nail down his chest, then digging it in his skin, making him hiss, “Oof, kid, you’re down the wrong path.”

  “Good, whatever keeps you away from me,” you smile back sarcastically, patting his chest before putting your palms on the patio, pulling your body out of the water, rolling your eyes when he lets out a low whistle and eyes you up and down, “Pervert.”

  “You love it.”

  “Fuck no.” Fuck yes, but he doesn’t need to know that. You walk away from him, water dripping from your limbs, and he nearly breaks his neck to try and stare at your thighs. “Enjoy the sunset.”

  “I already am.”

  •••

  “Is it too late to walk back to the villa?” You ask, tapping your foot on the soft sand as the two of you stare at the large table and two fluffy cushions on each side, while the waiters place different dishes for you.

  “Yup,” Robby smiles back awkwardly when the waiters stand on the side and wait for him to ask if you need anything else, “No, everything is perfect, thank you.”

  “Fuck, is that lobster? Robby, we paid for a fucking lobster?” You kneel on one of the cushions, examining the dinner table, “Were we fucking crazy?”

  “Not just one, but three because we thought we wouldn’t be full by the end of the date,” he scratches his beard, walking through the sand to reach his cushion, taking off his sandals to sit cross-legged, scanning the table, “Okay, fuck, did we just— order oysters? We never fucking eat these things!”

  “What were we thinking, Robby? This is insane! Can we, like— send them back or something? Thank the chef and write a gratitude letter, and ask for a steak or hell, even a pizza?” You bring an oyster to your nose, smelling it before gagging and putting it down, “Fuck no, I can’t eat this shit.”

  “I mean, at least we’ve got a– what is this?” He turns the golden bottle around, squinting his eyes to read the label before doing a dramatic fall on his back, his head hitting the soft sand, “We’re fucked, sweetheart.”

  “What? What is it?” You reach across the table to grab the bottle, faking a cry as you read the words, “Moet & Chandon Rose Imperial, Case of 24 with Gold Sippers. Robby, you need to fucking talk before I scream.”

  “I don’t have any words to say–“

  “You spent over $500 on a fucking champagne, not just you but me as well. Were we preparing for you to propose to me or something?” You shriek, placing the bottle back on the table, throwing your head back as soon as you feel the evening breeze hit your neck.

  “I mean… yeah, I ordered this with buying a ring in mind…” he groans, sitting up, shaking off the sand from his hair, giving you a bashful smile, “Can’t fault a man for wanting to do you good, can you?”

  “Yeah, well, we’re not together, so I’m not sure how good you did me,” you sigh, before scooting closer to Robby, dusting off the sand from his sky blue shirt, “We’ve paid for everything, might as well enjoy it.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, I just—“

  “You couldn’t have known, Robby.” You lean your head on his shoulder, watching as the hot balloons go up in the sky and the sun lowers slowly on the horizon, “Let’s just have a civil dinner for everyone’s sake. The mashed potatoes look delicious.”

  “Yeah, and the little bowls of pasta too,” he nods, kissing the top of your head before you have the chance to move away, and he looks down at his hands when you pat his shoulder and move to sit on your cushion again, “So, champagne to celebrate my failed proposal?”

  “Absolutely,” you grin, watching him while he tries to open the bottle, grabbing the knife nearby before he smashes the top of the bottle, making you scream and hand him a glass, giggling as he pours you the drink while some of the liquid spills on the sand, “You’re fucking messy.”

  “Yeah, well, one of us has to be entertaining!” He smiles fondly. For the first time in months, you are laughing at something he does, not out of sarcasm, anger, or frustration. It’s genuine, out of pure heart, and it sounds all too familiar.

  He’s missed this sound more than he likes to admit.

  “Can we eat the pasta and sneak out of here?” You ask, giving him a shy look, “Take the lobsters and champagne and order a cheap pizza while we drink in the ocean?”

  “Do you have a bag? We should also take the wine—“

  “Oh my god, are you seriously agreeing with this? No complaints, no lectures about how it’s a waste of money–“

  “Nope, nothing,” he shrugs, placing the bottle on the table before he grabs his glass, “Well, cheers to our failed relationship.”

  “Don’t say that! You make it sound like we were a mistake, but we weren’t! You were just controlling—“

  “I wasn’t!” He scoffs, clinking his glass to yours before he drowns the golden liquid, “I just didn’t like seeing men ogle my girlfriend. I don't think it was a bad thing.”

  “Oh, were you now–you know what? Let’s just stop right there. I’m quite enjoying this moment. Don’t fucking ruin it,” you tip your glass toward him, huffing out an exaggerated breath when he only looks at you as if he isn’t saying anything wrong, “don’t do that. I hate when you act like I’m crazy.”

  “Do what? I’m just looking at my girlfriend—“

  “Ex-girlfriend, Robby,” you say through gritted teeth, drowning the rest of your champagne before grabbing one of the pastas and stuffing your mouth with it, talking with a full mouth, “You do that stare thing when you think I’m in the wrong, which I rarely am by the way.”

  “Right, I’m not gonna talk about it anymore,” he sighs and stands up, offering his hand to you, and you look at it for a good minute. For a second, he thinks you are about to push it away, but he is relieved when you place your hand in his palm gently, letting him pull you to your feet without a fuss: “Grab whatever you want, we’re going back to the villa.”

  “Fuck, yes!” You take the champagne bottle after letting his hand fall and give the wine to Robby, picking up the lobster plate as you watch him put his sandals on, “You know, this would have been amazing if we had some music.”

  “I’ll play something on my phone when we get back to our room,” he says, following you out of the area the waiters cleared out for the date, walking shoulder to shoulder with you over the wooden bridge that leads to the overwater villas, “Look.”

  You follow his gaze, watching the sky turn into a bright shade of orange and pink, the image of the sunset falling over the ocean. It’s beautiful, it could have been more beautiful if you could hold his hand, but you have to enjoy the sight for now, with or without him.

  “It’s beautiful,” you say, taking a long sip from the bottle, walking ahead of him toward the villa.

  Robby stays behind for a second, his eyes trailing after you, following every step you take. It is pathetic, it really is, to look at you with heart eyes even though he was the one who caused the downfall of your relationship. If only he had worked on himself back then and regulated his insecurities, maybe you would have given him another chance.

  He takes a good look at you; you are wearing a floral dress that reaches your mid-thighs, clinging to the curves of your body just the right way, and the sight makes him dizzy, reminding him how much of an idiot he actually is.

  He comes inside the villa quickly, finding you on the patio, putting the bottle and the plate on the table before taking off your shoes, walking down the staircase that leads to the ocean, sitting on one of the stairs with your feet in the cool, clear water.

  “Hey, come join me!” You smile, kicking your feet in the water gently, “Bring the champagne too.”

  “Sure,” Robby smiles back and joins you, his large body occupying most of the space, his thighs grazing yours as he drinks from the bottle before handing it to you, his hazy brown eyes watching you closely, “You look beautiful.

  “Thanks,” you reply, suddenly feeling shy at how intense his gaze is. You used to love how he looked at you; so full of love and adoration, like somehow you were the center of his world, and anything other than you was irrelevant. Tonight, he seems like the Robby you love, the one who would feel so comfortable and happy around you, not the one with destructive thoughts that eventually pushed you over the edge.

  “Nothing to thank me for,” he wiggles his toes in the water, pouting a little, “I mean it.”

  “I bought it for tonight, you know? The dress, I mean,” You shrug, taking a swig of the champagne before you give him the bottle, leaning back on your elbow on the upper stair, “I went out a few days after we booked everything, saw the dress and thought you’d like it.”

  “I do, a lot actually,” he grins at you, his wrinkles deepening when you chuckle and shake your head, “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “I do, I do! But,” you scrunch up your nose a little, “I didn’t buy it just for dinner. I thought you’d go crazy over it and we’d have some fun after that.”

  “You’re lucky we’re not together, cause that dress would have been on the floor the moment I saw you in it,” he tells you so casually you think you are hallucinating. His eyes are darker than usual as he rakes them down all over your body, from your toes to your lips, “If only we were together.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I do,” he looks away for a second, running a hand down his neck, “I’d have turned into a beast, you know me better than that, sweetheart.”

  “Well, lucky me,” you stand up, approaching the table before you grab a fork and bring the lobster to your mouth, humming at the taste, “I’d have hated you for ruining my vacation by fucking me.”

  “Yeah, lucky you,” he stands up as well, walking past you into the villa and towards the bathroom, “I’ll take the couch tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “'Cause I can’t trust my self-control to keep my hands to myself.”

  And that leaves you breathless.

  •••

  It’s stupid, you tell yourself, it’s probably nothing. You told him you were on this trip as two individuals, not as a couple, not as anything other than two exes. But last night changed everything for you, and you thought he felt the same. But he has been gone the whole day, the clothes he had on yesterday are on the couch, and his phone is on the coffee table. 

  “Don’t,” you whisper to yourself as you put your perfume on. Fine, if he wants to get lost, so can you. You spotted a beach bar this morning, and now, you are determined to go and have some fun because Robby can’t ruin this trip for you; you refuse to let him do that.

  There is a lingering thought in the back of your head, and it is making you anxious. Everything was going so well last night, what changed? Why did he leave without a word before you woke up? And more importantly, why did he say those things if he wanted to disappear a few hours later?

  Doesn’t matter anymore, you walk to the beach bar, white sundress falling on your upper thighs, and your sandals catching some of the sand in them as you make your way further into the area.

  The hotel has done a wonderful job in making the atmosphere welcoming, and as much as you like to enjoy your surroundings, you can’t. Not when you notice Robby laughing at another girl, flashing her that sickeningly charming grin.

  It feels as if someone’s dumped an entire bucket of ice on you. Of course, he would go around and have fun, of course he would enjoy his vacation to full potential, of course, you were being delusional about making progress with him, and hoping for another chance.

  You walk a bit closer, taking a good look at both of them; he is leaning into her, and so is she. She looks older than you, probably mid-forties, and fuck, she is beautiful, and definitely Robby’s type.

  You feel sick to your stomach, and each quick and shallow breath you take in doesn’t help because your heart is racing a mile. You can’t do anything but watch her raise her hand and rest it on his biceps. He glances down at where she is touching him, looking up and giving her a very soft smile.

  You look away instantly, biting the inside of your cheek so hard you start to taste the metal. You need to get away from the scene as soon as you can, so with shaky legs, you take long strides to go to the other side of the bar.

  Sitting on a stool, you wait for the bartender to come and ask for your order. You wish he would come sooner because, unfortunately, you are sitting where you can see them laughing and chatting.

  “What can I get ya?”

  “Gin Tonic with a twist, make it two,” you say, tapping your fingers on the countertop while you try to take your eyes off the scene in front of you. It’s impossible, even though the bar is crowded and music fills the space, you can still hear Robby’s rich laughter across you.

  What you wouldn’t do to make him laugh like that, but someone has already taken your place, it seems.

  “Is this seat taken?” a man a few years older than you asks you, waiting for you to reply, and when you shake your head no, he sits down and rests his forearms on the countertop. “It sucks to be alone in this place.”

  “Tell me about it…” You agree, thanking the bartender when he brings your drinks, gulping down one so fast you feel your throat burning for a good few minutes, face twisting, and eyes squeezed shut, “Fuck!”

  “Rough night?” The man next to you chuckles awkwardly, sipping on his drink while he looks at you with an amused expression.

  “Yeah, unfortunately,” you take a good look at him, and you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t handsome. He is tall, muscular, with curly brunette hair and flushed cheeks. He is a beautiful guy, pleasant to the eyes, but no one compares to the man you have in mind.

  You glance across the bar, finding Robby already looking at you curiously, his fingers wrapped around his glass while the woman sitting next to him keeps talking. You turn your attention back to the man next to you, smiling softly at him before you start nursing your second glass.

  “I’m not really alone, you know,” you sigh and resume talking, “I’m here with my ex, actually. This was supposed to be our dream trip, but meh, nothing is going the way we thought it would.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Oh god, no please, don’t pity me—”

  “It’s not pity! I’m sorry he was that undeserving of you,”  he shrugs, grinning when you hit his arm playfully, “I’m serious! You’re so beautiful, I had to leave my sister alone just to shoot my shot.”

  “You are here with your sister?” you ask, turning fully toward him, suddenly feeling the burning sensation of a pair of eyes on the back of your neck. “Why would you come on a trip like this with your sister?”

  “It’s her honeymoon, and I don’t know, somehow her husband had a spare ticket, and here I am!”

  “You’re not here to ruin her honeymoon, are you?”

  “I won’t as long as you let me buy you a drink.”

  “Oooo, okay, I mean, it’s better than sharing a room with your—”

  “Sweetheart?”

  Speaking of exes, there he is — Robby with a smile that can kill a man from ten miles away, standing behind you, hands pushed into the pockets of his beige linen shorts. If he didn’t look too good, you would have slapped him across the face. You might do it anyway because he looks down at the man next to you like he wants him dead.

  “That’s your ex—”

  “Boyfriend, actually!” Robby beats you to it: “Should we leave now?”

  “No, we were talking,” you hiss at him, turning back to the man in front of you. Two can play this game, Robby. “I’m so sorry, he has always been like this.”

  “Get up, sweetheart, we had plans for the night.” he glares at you, and you glare back, standing up, but before he can hold your hand, you grab your glass and throw your drink on him, soaking his shirt completely.

  “Fuck you, Robby,” you march past him, not bothering to check and see if he is following you, but you are sure he is with how heavy his footsteps fill the open air, “I can’t believe you! How much of a fucking asshole you have to be to ruin my night like that?”

  “I didn’t ruin anything—”

  “You’re a fucking hypocrite! You can go and flirt with every woman you can get your hands on, but the second someone shows interest in me, you are scaring them away!” you scream, swiping your key card before pushing the door of the villa open, wiping your tears with the back of your hand, pacing the space around the bed, “What do you want from me, Robby?”

  “I’m not gonna watch someone else flirt with you—”

  “Robby! Oh my fucking god, do you hear yourself?” You cry out, “You can’t let others flirt with me, but you also get insecure because someone is nice enough to approach me! ‘I don’t deserve you, kid.’ Yeah, you fucking don’t because you can’t get it into your thick fucking head that maybe, just maybe I want you and nobody else! That I have never led them on, and it was you who couldn’t see my efforts.”

  He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you with teary eyes, his lips trembling as he watches you walk around the room, rubbing your arms to soothe yourself. He takes a step closer, speechless and shocked.

  “I saw you with her, someone closer to your age, someone who isn’t like me, Robby, and you looked happy! And I understand why you’d get jealous because fuck, I wanted to throw up when I saw the way she looked at you,” you heave, wiping your tears away, “And I thought, was I so neglectful that I couldn’t make him feel secure in our relationship? Did I not show how much he meant to me—hmmm!”

  Robby kisses you so hard that you stumble back, clinging to him to keep yourself steady while you try to kiss him back. There is nothing sweet in the way he moves his lips against yours; it’s forceful, full of unresolved emotions, pent-up anger, and passion.

  You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close while he leads you toward the bed, his hands roaming your body with one thought in mind — he has to make it up to you.

  “You’re such a hypocrite,” you mumble against his lips as he trails his kisses down to your neck, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it off, your bra and panties following it closely — too fast, you don’t even have time to react because he is so desperate for you.

  “You can cuss me out as long as I get to eat your pussy,” he says and grabs the back of your thighs and drops you on the bed, pulling off his shirt as soon as he can before he crawls on top of you and begins to kiss a path down from your belly button.

  “I hate you—” you gasp when he bites your inner thigh, throwing your knees over his shoulders while he nibbles at your flesh, making his way to your aching pussy.

  “Yeah, I know, sweetheart.” And with that, his mouth engulfs your cunt, tongue flat against your wet folds as he drags the thick muscle up and down, enjoying how you buck your hips and grab his head.

  There is not a single thought in Robby’s head, not one, and it shows by how he is eating you out like a man starved. Months without getting to touch you, days spent together in the Pitt, yet you have been too far away from him, and now he finally has you where he wants you, where you want to be too.

  “Fuck, Robby!” you let out a shaky breath when he wraps his lips around your buzzing clit, humming as he starts hollowing his cheeks, his beard burning your skin as he feasts on you. You pull on his hair, thrusting your hips up, whining when he pushes you down with his forearm on your lower abdomen, “You’re such a loser.”

  “Oh, yeah? Tell me more, sweetheart,” he dives back in, flickering his tongue over your sensitive bud while he brings his fingers to your fluttering hole, circling the entrance with the tip of his finger before he pushes in, making you hum and go rigid in his hold.

  “Fucking pathetic,” you moan out, digging your nails into the back of his neck, “Thinking I wanted other men— ah, Roh-bbyy– I can never do that to you.”

  He adds another finger, stretching you open, relishing in every sound you make as he scissors you open with his digits, listening to the way your breath hitches when he curls his fingers inside you while his tongue does wonders on your clit.

  You can’t hold back anymore, your orgasm crashes into your body like a truck, leaving you a moaning mess under Robby’s touch. Your legs shake on his shoulders, your release coating his face as he pulls his fingers out immediately and shoves his tongue inside you, drinking you up as best as he can.

  You lie on the bed, breathless and shaky, when he gets rid of his shorts and crawls on top of you, dragging his teeth on your skin until he reaches your open mouth, pushing his tongue into the cavity and humming when you start sucking on it, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him locked to your body, tasting yourself on his tongue.

  “Still think I’m a loser?” he asks, pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes as he reaches between your bodies to grab hold of his throbbing cock, stroking himself a few times.

  “I’ll always think you’re a loser,” you peck the corner of his lips, arching your back when you feel him running the tip of his cock between your drenched folds, tapping your clit a few times with his member before he lines it up with your hole.

  “Well, this loser is about to fuck you.”

  “Good, just do it fa-aah!” You can’t finish your sentence because he bottoms out in one swift thrust, feeding you all his cock in a single move, punching the air out of your lungs, “Robby!”

  “I should have fucked you in front of him,” he groans into your ear, his larger body covering yours entirely as he picks up his pace, driving his dick in and out over and over, “Pretty boy thinking he’s got a chance with you.”

  It’s been quite a while since the last time you slept with anyone, and the last time was with him anyway. He is stretching you out deliciously, making your eyes roll to the back of your head with each thrust. He is pouring everything he’s felt during the past few months into fucking you, and boy, is he doing a great job.

  You claw at his back, wailing out his name in pleasure. It should feel wrong; he is your ex, and yet, you’ve never felt closer to him than you are now. You throw your head back, spine arching off the bed as the fat tip of his cock hits your cervix repeatedly, making your body pulse in delight.

  You can’t fight off your climax, nor can he. It’s kind of ironic how you both come at the same time, as if your bodies are synced even after a breakup.

  You gush around him with a moan of his name, head buried in his neck, and teeth sinking into his flesh while he groans into your hair, movements faltering as he comes deep inside you, pushing his hips into yours roughly, making sure you take everything he is giving you.

  “You are a real loser for coming so fast.”

  “Says the one who came twice in twenty minutes.”

  •••

  You toss and turn on the bed, reaching mindlessly for Robby, but you are only met with his empty space. Sitting up slowly, you spot him on the patio, sitting on one of the chairs, staring off into the horizon. You stand up, grabbing the cover and wrapping it around your naked body before approaching him.

  “Hi,” you say, smiling gently at him, and he returns it without a second thought, his grin reaching his eyes — it’s been a while since you were the reason for his smile, and it feels great to do it again.

  “Hey, c’mere,” he spreads his legs a bit, pulling you on top of him gently, and you take your time to cover his naked body, except for his boxers. “What are you doing up so early?”

  “Wanted to ask you the same thing,” you mumble, laying your head between his neck and shoulder, enjoying the warmth his body provides. “You were gone, I thought you might have ditched me again like yesterday.”

  “Sorry about that, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing your hips, resting his head on top of yours, “I was craving a cigarette so bad, I had to distract myself.”

  “Good,” you nuzzle your face in his neck completely, kissing his pulse point quickly, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “You wanted to skin me alive a few days ago,” he chuckles at your groan, holding you tighter against him.

  “Yeah, well, I still wanna do that, so you're treading on thin ice, mister,” you tell him, wrapping one arm around him, gently scratching the nape of his neck, knowing how he calms down immediately, “You shouldn’t have done that last night.”

  “I’m sorry,” He sighs, “I just… sometimes I can’t control my thoughts, it’s fucked up, I know that, but… I keep thinking about how someone your age could treat you better, someone who doesn’t come with a heavy emotional baggage—”

  “Robby, look at me.” You cup his cheek, forcing him to listen to you, “If I wanted someone like that, I’d be with him. But I don’t want that, I want you, with all your stupidity and your jealousy to some extent, because when we were together… it would get out of hand sometimes.”

  “I know, I’m so sorry about that. I’m trying, I’m really fucking trying.”

  “That’s amazing, and we will talk about it later when we get back to Pittsburgh, okay? Let’s just enjoy our time for now.” You kiss him softly, and he reciprocates without hesitation, but the moment is cut short when Robby pulls back suddenly.

  “We have to go out in a few hours.”

  “Why?” you ask, kissing his cheek down to his jaw, enjoying how his beard scratches your face.

  “Because I just remembered we’ve booked two jet skis for an hour—”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? How the fuck are we gonna— you’re not serious, are you?”

  “Yeah, unfortunately, I am, and we paid for it.”

  “This has to be our last vacation for a while,” you poke his chest, giggling when he brings the finger up to his mouth and bites it gently, “Only road trips from now on, at least they are less chaotic.”

[sturnsdarling]

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this. PART TWO IS HERE

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[docrobinavitch]

tracing back lucky stars

dr. robby x f!attending!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, infidelity, swearing, angst, usual medical canon events (not much tho), mention of alcoholic parent, other mentions of death, grief, age gap (less than ten year gap) words: 15.4K synopsis: this fic spans over a decade and follows our reader from first meeting robby in a chance interaction in florida as a resident all the way to 2024. all events take place prior to season one. this is inspired by when harry met sally, as requested from one of my beloved anons. lots of will they won't they, robby being oblivious to his own feelings for like ten goddamn years, i guess slow burn ish??? a/n: hi my friends, can't explain just how much fun i had writing this so huuuuuge thank you to the anon that requested it!! i really hope you love it. they will live in my brain space for quite a while i think. title is taken from song lucky stars by haim. as always thank u for being here!! <3 syd

2013 

As you stood at that rental car counter, you decided you hated the south. You hated the way southerners pretended to be nice, but really probably hated your guts. The way they smiled at you and crooned with their syrupy sweet voices that bless your heart, they thought you were a little soft in the head. Everyone always loved to say northerners were assholes, but to you they were just honest. You had infinitely more respect for the guy from Philly who flipped you off in traffic and screamed out his window that you drove like a ninety seven year old lady with glaucoma than the man in front of you who was giving his best Aw Shucks expression as he told you he would not rent his last car to you.

“Ma’am, as I’ve already explained to you, I cannot rent you that car, it’s a manual.”

“And as I’ve already explained to you, Martin, I know how to drive a stick.”

“If that’s true,” He said slowly, “Then why did you select ‘automatic’ for preferred transmission type on the rental form?”

You sighed and let your hands rise and fall loudly with a smack onto the counter, “Because the year is two thousand and thirteen and I assumed that there would be an automatic car available.”

You were running very low on patience after the morning you’d had. After spending the weekend at an emergency medicine conference, you had gotten up at four in the morning to make an early flight back to Pittsburgh. But lovely, beautiful Panama City, Florida had fucked you over from the moment you woke up this morning. 

The hot water in your hotel room had been out and you’d been forced to take an icy shower. You spilt orange juice all over the outfit you planned to wear to the airport and so were forced to instead wear denim shorts that rode just an inch too high. The iced coffee you had made yourself behind schedule to buy before getting to the airport was knocked from your hand by an inattentive cyclist. And you had broken the heel on one of your cowboy boots on your way into the airport. So you hobbled up to bag check only to find out that your flight was cancelled and could not be rescheduled until tomorrow.

You couldn’t wait until tomorrow. You were an R3 and you had a double shift tomorrow and you needed this flight to get back to Pittsburgh at a reasonable hour so you could get whatever sleep possible before reporting for shift. So you really, really needed this fucking car if you had any hope at all of both getting some sleep and making your shift.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m just not comfortable renting you the vehicle. Now, I really need to take care of the next customer–”

“Oh, Jesus, fuck, I’m trying to give you money for a service!” You pushed your credit card and license across the counter, “Please just rent me the car so I can go home!”

“Excuse me,” The voice behind you was rough and warm, and oddly familiar. It took you less than thirty seconds to place him. 

You had listened to him speak at the conference for an hour about how to deliver bad news to patients with the right amount of empathy. You remembered specifically how soothing you had found his voice and found it unsurprising that he would seem so good at delivering bad news. He could probably tell you he had stolen your identity and all money from your bank account and you would thank him.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I overheard you’re also heading to Pittsburgh?” He said to you and then turned to your newly minted nemesis, Martin, “I can drive stick, I could drive us both.”

Well, smooth voice or not, he could get fucked if he thought he was going to steal your rental.

“Excuse me,” You said, turning to the doctor who was way taller in person than you remembered him being on stage, “But you’re not taking my rental.”

“Ma’am, as I’ve said, it’s not your rental.”

“Martin,” You said, your voice high and strained as you whipped your head back towards him, “Could you mind your own goddamn business, please?”

“I— Sorry—“ Doctor Soothing Voice interjected again, “I just, I heard you were going to Pittsburgh and it’s the last rental—“

“So you thought you’d steal it from me?”

He laughed and scratched the back of his head, “No, I thought we could split it.”

Ordinarily, you may have been more polite. You had really enjoyed his talk. But you were very angry and your ankle was throbbing from when you had broken your heel. You wanted a peaceful drive by yourself.

“I don’t share cars with strange men, that’s how you end up on Dateline.”

He nodded, “Yeah, fair enough. What if we grab a coffee first?” He turned to Martin and slid a fifty dollar bill across the counter, “You’ll hold the car for us?”

You watched as Martin pocketed the fifty, nodding politely at Doctor Soothing Voice and you glared at him, upper lip beginning to turn up in disgust. You could already be on the road by now if it wasn’t for this sexist pig who thought women couldn’t drive stick.

“If you keep staring at him like that,” Doctor Soothing Voice whispered from over your shoulder, “You might actually end up on Dateline when they find his body.”

Accepting defeat, you sighed. Grabbing your bags, you began walking away from the counter.

“Have a beautiful day, ma’am.” Martin said as you walked by. 

You gave a short laugh and started to turn back around, “Oh, you son of a—“

“Nope.” Doctor Soothing Voice gently took your shoulders and turned you back in the direction of the door, “Just keep walking.”

Once outside in the oppressive humidity, you shook his hands off you, “You know, I could have handled that myself.”

He nodded, smiling, “I have no doubts on that front.” He gestured down to your heel-less boot, “What happened to your boot, you get in a brawl with a condescending horse?”

You snorted, “A doctor and funny. Though, I guess unsurprising since you work in an ER. If anyone’s gonna be funny it’s emergency medicine doctors. How else do we cope with the horrors?” He frowned at you in silent question, “Oh. Sorry. I should have said, I was at the conference, I saw your talk. Though your name is slipping my mind at the moment.”

He raised his eyebrows and you saw the way his eyes traveled down your legs and back up again, “You were… Here for the conference?”

“What, so, because I wore cowboy boots and booty shorts to the airport you think they’re gonna take my medical license away?”

He laughed, “You’re right, I apologize. Of course you can still practice medicine in booty shorts.” He held out a hand for you to shake, “I’m Michael. Robinavitch. You could also just call me Robby, if you want, that’s what I go by in the ER.”

You shook his hand and gave him your name, “I’m an R3, I work at UPMC Presbyterian.”

“Huh, what are the odds?” He ran a hand through his hair, “So you knew who I was and still refuse to get in a car with me?”

You started rolling your suitcase towards the Dunkin’ across the street, hobbling as you went, “Just because you’re a good doctor doesn’t mean you’re not also a deviant. People are layered and nuanced. And sick.”

His mouth was twitching towards a smirk again as he followed after you. Something about you was very intriguing to him. “Nuanced like how you’re an R3 wearing booty shorts and cowboy boots to the airport?”

“Yes, exactly.” You looked both ways at the crosswalk in front of the Dunkin’ before stepping into traffic, “Besides, I need an iced coffee if I’m about to endure fifteen plus hours in a car with a stranger.”

Robby continues to watch you from behind, eternally amused by your uneven gate, “Don’t you have other shoes?”

“Yes, well, I’ve hardly had the time to dig into my suitcase to find them now, have I?” You turned and walked backwards so you could look at him, “Do you criticize all your residents like this?”

He frowned, “That wasn’t a critique, you just look uncomfortable. Do you get this defensive with all your attendings?”

You turned away from him and he watched your shoulders heave with a sigh, “No. Believe it or not, I’m not normally like this. Must be something about you that gets under my skin.”

“Well,” He smirked and held the Dunkin’ door open for you, “You have about fifteen hours to figure out what it is.”

***

“When was the last time you drove stick?” Robby was holding the keys up just out of your reach. You knew he was trying to see if you would jump for them, but you would not be humiliated. You crossed your arms and glared at him instead.

In the last half hour you had changed your shoes and drank half your iced coffee while Robby filled out the rest of the paperwork for the car.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, more than ten years ago?”

He scoffed, “Okay, you’re definitely not driving then.”

“What, like you drive a stick super often?”

“Yes, actually, the car I own at home is a manual.”

You laughed, “Oh, okay. You’re one of those guys?”

He blinked at you, still smirking, “What does that mean? One of those guys?”

You walked around to the passenger side door, opening it, and standing on the step so you could look over the roof at him, “You know, one of those guys who only drives a manual and thinks they’re better than you for it. And like, probably owns a fucking motorcycle or something that he works on in his garage with his own two hands and talks about like it’s his child.”

You watched with glee as his face reddened, “Oh my God, you do have a motorcycle, don’t you? And a leather jacket?”

“Get in the car,” He said, still blushing as he opened the driver’s side door.

Very pleased with yourself, you ducked into the car.

***

“How’d you learn to drive stick?” He asked once they were on the road.

You were eating a donut with your feet propped up on the dash, the window open and blowing in your hair, “My dad taught me.”

He nodded, “Are the two of you close?”

“No,” You said, mouth full of donut, and then swallowed, “He was an alcoholic.”

“Oh,” Robby said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, he’s not dead, he’s just dead to me.” You turned to him and smirked as he was blushing again, “It’s okay, I haven’t spoken to him in almost ten years. I’ve moved on.”

He nodded and cleared his throat, “Sounds like that must’ve been… difficult.”

Your smile widened at his attempt to comfort you. Commiserate, even, “We are strangers in a car for fifteen hours together. We don’t have to do all this.”

He shrugged and turned to look at you briefly while stopped at a red light, “Isn’t this sorta the whole point of being alive though? Getting to know strangers?”

He had very intense, very warm, brown eyes. The kind of eyes that seemed to look right through you on first glance, that made you itch to break his stare. For just a moment, your smile slipped, and you tore your gaze from his to look out the windshield, “The light’s green.”

After a few moments of silence, you cleared your throat, “Seems like now’s a good time to mention that I am engaged, by the way. So if you were thinking about falling in love with me in the next fifteen hours, don’t.”

You heard him chuckle next to you, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it. You’re not my type.”

You choked on your iced coffee and turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“What?” He laughed, “Are you shocked that the booty shorts didn’t work on me or something?”

You felt your face flush and you turned away from him, “No, I just… men don’t have a type.”

He scoffed, “What are you talking about?”

“Men will fuck any woman who shows even a little bit of interest in them. It’s why they’re incapable of being just friends with women.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You don’t think men and women can be just friends?”

“I don’t think straight men and straight women can be just friends because the man will always be secretly thinking about fucking her.” Robby was shaking his head, “What, you disagree?”

He laughed, “Yeah, of course. I promise I am not thinking about fucking you even a little bit.”

You smirked, “Okay. Well, I guess we can be friends then. At least until you prove me right.”

“Won’t happen.” 

You grinned, “Friends forever, then.”

He laughed, “Yeah, sure. Friends forever.”

***

The sun was beginning to set when Robby pulled back on the highway after stopping for Wendy’s, french fry hanging from his mouth.

“I could drive, you know, for a little while.”

“S’okay,” Robby said, food in his mouth, “I like the driving. Prefer it, actually.”

You nodded, “Yeah, that tracks with the whole thing you got going on.”

He laughed and gave you a quick glance, “You are such a know-it-all, you know? Anyone ever told you that? What thing do I have going on?”

You tossed a chicken nugget in your mouth before answering, “I’m not a know-it-all, I'm just really good at reading people.” You swallowed, “You have control issues.”

He ran a hand over his face, slightly shaking his head, “And how did you arrive at this conclusion?”

You shrugged, “It’s just sorta written all over you. The way you stepped in at the rental counter, the way you insist on driving, even in your talk at the conference you told a story when you were a resident where you ended up stealing a patient from another, more senior resident because you thought you knew best.”

He scoffed, “Yes, but I was right.”

“That time. I’m sure you’ve done that before and been wrong.” He’s quiet and when you look over at him, his jaw is clenched. Oh. You’ve pissed him off. “I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. We all have quirks—“

“Like you being an insufferable know-it-all?” He said sharply.

You went quiet. You weren’t offended, exactly, moreso caught off guard that you had triggered him so easily when it hadn’t been your intention. 

“Sorry,” He said after a moment, sighing, “That was unnecessary.”

You nodded, “Let’s take a break from talking for a while.” You leaned forward to start fiddling with the radio before sitting back and humming along.

Robby drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, but for the most part, the two of you sat in companionable silence for roughly a half hour.

Until Robby cleared his throat, “I’m sorry for snapping at you, I know I have control issues. Guess it was frustrating hearing it from someone who doesn’t even really know me.”

You shrugged, “It’s okay. For what it’s worth I have been told I’m an insufferable know-it-all.”

He smirked, “And does your fiancé love that about you?”

You snorted, “No. There’s nothing a man hates more than a woman who thinks she knows more than him.”

The comment struck him as a little too honest. And he thought, perhaps, there was a note of hurt in your voice.

“How long have you been together?” He asked mildly.

You sighed and he saw you examine the ring on your finger out of the corner of his eye, “We dated for three years and got engaged about six months ago.”

He nodded, “You have a date in mind for the wedding?”

You became uncharacteristically quiet and he worried he had pushed too hard, but then, “No, um, we still can’t agree on a venue. And then we just decided maybe it would make more sense to wait until I finished my residency.”

“Oh,” He said, “Well, yeah, that seems reasonable.”

You cleared your throat, “What about you, Robby, you have anyone at home?”

It was not lost on him that you had redirected the conversation away from yourself, but that was fine. It wasn’t his business anyway.

“No,” He said, “No, it’s just been me for a while now.”

You nodded, “How’s that going for ya?”

He smirked, “No one to make a victim of with my control issues, so it’s alright.”

You smiled and then yawned, “Could you talk for a while?”

He huffed a laugh through his nose, “About what?”

“Anything. Medical procedures. Hell, give me your talk again.” You yawned a second time, “Anyone ever told you you have a very calming voice?”

“Oh, so my talk put you to sleep?”

“No,” You settled back into the car seat, pulling the lever to recline it slightly and resting your head against the door, “Your talk was very good, actually. You just have a nice voice. It’s how I recognized you earlier. But now, yes, I would like you to put me to sleep if you don’t mind. I have a double tomorrow.”

Robby smirked and looked at you out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes were already closed, head leaned against the window, arms crossed across your chest.

“Alright,” He said eventually, “If you insist.”

***

It took only about twenty minutes of him talking, redoing the talk he had done the day before, before he noticed you had drifted off. When he could safely get a look at you, he saw your mouth slightly agape and you were snoring softly. It shocked him how endearing he found it, how oddly comforting it was to drive with someone dozing off in the passenger seat.

You had entered your address into the GPS a couple of hours ago and with the street lights illuminating the inside of the car, he pulled up outside your apartment building.

He hated to wake you, you really did look so peaceful, the street lights giving your face an artificial glow. 

He stared at you a beat too long before he reached a hand to your knee and gave it a light squeeze, “Hey, you’re home.”

You stirred, what sounded almost like a mewl crawled out your throat as you came to and Robby fought a smile. “Home?” You asked sleepily.

“Yes,” He leaned away from you, allowing you to wake fully, “You fell asleep.”

You blinked the sleep from your eyes and looked around, “Well,” You dragged your arm at the corner of your mouth, wiping away the drool that had collected there, “I think it’s safe to say you’re no deviant, Michael Robinavitch. Thank you for getting me home safely.”

He smirked and got out of the car to help you with your suitcase, “Anytime.”

Having all your things, you looked from your apartment building back to Robby, “So, we’re still friends?” You asked, smirking, calling everything back to your earlier conversation.

A slow smile made its way across his face. The answer was yes, but he was beginning to wonder if he had more than fifteen hours with you if the answer would eventually be no.

“Yes,” Was all he said, though. You were engaged. Someone else’s. “Friends forever, like I said.”

Your smile widened and you laughed, “Good, excellent. Maybe I’ll see you around then, Dr. Robby.”

He nodded, hands stuffed in his pockets, “I hope so.”

And then he watched, leaning against the car, as you made your way towards the apartment building. You didn’t look back at him. He waited until you were safely inside before climbing back into the car and pulling off the curb.

***

2018

Normally, you could only be found at a local bookstore, but every one you had checked as of late was missing the one book you wanted. So that was how you ended up at Barnes & Noble that day. You were crouched in front of the shelf, looking intently at the spines to locate the title you were looking for and so didn’t notice that someone was now standing next to you.

Successfully locating the novel, you pulled it from its shelf and rose to standing, beginning to read the blurb on the back cover.

Which was how you found yourself face to face with Michael Robinavitch after not seeing him for five years.

“Oh,” You said, “Hi.”

Quickly, you realized it was more than likely he had completely forgotten about you. It had been five years since you had shared that rental car up to Pittsburgh and you hadn’t seen him since. He hadn’t changed all that much, though his beard was a bit more unruly than you remembered.

But then, his face lit up in recognition, “Hi,” He said, seemingly shocked, but pleased to run into you, “I almost didn’t recognize you, your hair… it’s… different.”

You smirked, “Oh, you hate it.”

“No,” He said quickly, “No, I actually think it suits you more than the long hair.”

You smiled, “Nice save. Just as charming as I remembered.”

He shook his head, a flush working its way up his neck, “You still at Presby?”

“Yes,” You nodded, “I’m an attending now, though.”

“Good, that’s good,” You noted the way his eyes fell to your left hand and you knew what he was looking for, “Did you get married, then? You said you were waiting to finish your residency.”

It was shocking to you that he remembered you had said that. At the same time, it sent an ache through you to think about that relationship.

“I did get married,” You said slowly, looking down at your empty ring finger, “We got divorced about a year ago.”

“Oh,” He sighed, “I’m… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay.” Instinctively, you placed a hand on his forearm, meant for reassurance. But his eyes stared down at your hand, and self consciously, you pulled away, “We probably shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place,” You shrugged, “Besides, relationships will probably always be doomed for me. Emergency medicine doctors suck at marriage.”

He barked a short laugh and shook his head, “You can’t think like that.”

“Hey, I’m just going by the empirical data,” You tilted your head to the side and narrowed your eyes at him, “Are you… in a relationship? I didn’t see a ring.”

He gave you a lopsided grin, “I’m actually here with my girlfriend, Janey and her son, Jake. Wandered off by myself while they were looking for a book for him for school.”

Oh, it pissed you off the way your stomach sank. He had always said you weren’t his type anyway. He was probably actually telling the truth. It figured the only honest man you’d ever met wouldn’t be into you.

Granted, you didn’t really know Robby, only the version of him that lived in your head from that fifteen hour car ride that you revisited every so often. More so since your divorce finalized. But it was just loneliness, you assured yourself. You had created a version of him in your head that didn’t exist. The man you occasionally pined after was not in front of you, just someone who looked like him.

“That’s lovely, Robby. I’m happy for you.”

He laughed, “You just said ER doctors can’t keep a relationship.”

You shook your head, “Stupid and self deprecating. It’s just a coping mechanism. I’m sure you’re really great at it. Being a boyfriend.”

He scoffed and scratched the back of his head, “I don’t know about that, but I’m trying.” He nodded to the book in your hand, “What’s that?”

You flipped it in your hand so he could see the cover, My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Otessa Moshfegh. 

“Uh, just a book I heard about online,” You shrugged.

“What’s it about?”

You shrugged again, smirking, “A woman who is so sick of everything she gets her psychiatrist to prescribe her enough pills to sleep through a whole year.”

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you. You had worked with many an ER physician in your career and while in med school. You knew what it looked like when someone was assessing you for injury.

“Should I be concerned?” He asked. His tone was casual, but his posture was anything but.

Your grin widened, “You should always be concerned about me.” You joked, but his frown deepened, “I’m fine, Robby. It’s just a book.”

It wasn’t totally true. You had sought the book out because you suspected you would relate to the protagonist. Maybe too much. But he was a stranger. He didn’t need to hear about your suicidal ideations.

“You still drive stick?” You asked, anxious to move the conversation away from yourself.

He laughed and shook his head, “No, I finally have an automatic like the rest of the population.”

You laughed, “Oh, no. Bummer. You’re just like the rest of us peasants now. Do you at least still have the motorcycle?”

“Sold it a couple years ago.”

You winced, “Man, you’ve really let yourself go.”

He laughed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. You didn’t want to leave, but you felt the longer you stood here talking to him, it threatened to disprove the belief that he could not be as lovely as you made him out to be in your head.

“So,” You said finally and held your fist out to him, “Still friends?”

He gave you a lopsided grin and pressed his fist to yours, “Friends forever,” He repeated the words from five years ago and for a moment it felt as if no time had passed at all, “Like I said. Though I hope to see you again sooner than five years from now.”

“Yeah,” You said, “Me too.” 

***

2023 

Robby had zero desire to meet the new attending Gloria had hired. Whoever it was, they had been hired behind his back and with no warning to him until they were three days out from when they were supposed to start. If Gloria had hired someone behind his back, it had to mean that whoever it was was in her pocket. Or at the very least, Gloria thought that person was in her pocket. And that was enough for him to stay far away from whoever it was.

But what he hadn’t been expecting when Gloria came downstairs, new attending by her side as she gave a tour, was you.

He stopped short and stared dumbly as you and Gloria approached him. Unfortunately for him, he was unable to stop the stupid smile that spread across his face at the sight of you. 

“Dr. Robinavitch.” You said, once you were close enough. Your smile was wide enough to mirror his, “It’s good to see you again.”

He laughed, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?” Gloria frowned, looking back and forth between you two.

“Sort of.” You said, “We met at a conference ten years ago.”

Sort of was an accurate way to describe whatever this repeated crossing of paths seemed to be between the two of you. 

“Oh.” Gloria seemed less than pleased at this revelation, “Lovely. Well, I’ll leave you in more capable hands then. Come find me if you need anything.” And then she was gone.

Robby shook his head at you, “I’ll ask again, what the hell are you doing here? Presby get too small for you?”

“Uh,” You shrugged, “I just… really needed a change.”

He smirked, “And… knowing I was here probably made it more enticing?”

You laughed, “You caught me. Thought it was finally time we became actual friends.”

Robby could not explain how pleased he was that you were here. It was stupid that he cared. He hadn’t seen you in five years. And before that brief exchange, he hadn’t seen you for five years before that. So really, he hadn’t seen you in ten years. And yet, he was traipsing you around, introducing you to everyone, laughing a little too loudly at your jokes, like he was a fucking teenager.

Until he was walking you home at the end of the day. Until you mentioned Dean.

“That’s great,” He said when you said it, that you were seeing someone, “So you think you’ve broken the ER doctor curse, then?”

You shrugged, smirking, “Probably not. But I really like him. It feels good, right now.”

“Good,” He said, “You deserve that.” 

And he meant it. You had looked so sad the last time he’d seen you. And even before that, the first time you met, you had struck him as something of a wounded animal. Defending itself with jokes and pessimism. You deserved to be truly happy.

“And what about Janey, how is she?”

He sighed, “Um, we broke up shortly after the last time I saw you. It seems the curse of the ER doctors is still with me. But I still get to see Jake, her son, so I feel really lucky about that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s probably for the best,” He rubbed a hand over the back of his head, “I’ve been a fucking wreck since covid anyway.”

You nodded, “Yeah. It’s been a rough couple of years.” The silence stretched between the two of you. Neither of you brave enough to break it with the horrors you experienced during the pandemic.

Finally, you cleared your throat, “Did you lose anyone?” You asked quietly.

He swallowed thickly, then nodded, “Our Chief of Emergency Medicine, Dr. Adamson. My mentor.”

He heard your sharp intake of breath next to him, “I heard about that. I didn’t realize you were close. I’m so sorry, Michael.”

Something about you using his first name undid him just a little and he had to focus very hard on his shoes and his steps to keep the emotion at bay.

“What about you?” He asked instead, “Who did you lose?”

Because you had to have lost someone. Almost everyone had. Especially if you worked in a hospital.

You sighed deeply, “Our charge nurse, Liz. She was like a mother to me. She’d been charge since I was a resident.”

“Is that why you left Presby?”

“I watched a lot of people I loved and deeply respected burn out and hospital admin did nothing about it. I know too many nurses and doctors both that decided to retire early or completely change careers.” You shrugged, “I don’t know. It felt like I was watching my entire department crash and burn.”

He shook his head, “It’s so fucked.”

“That we’re here and they’re not?” Finally, he met your gaze. Your eyes were warm and impossibly open as you looked at him. If he looked closely enough, he could see his own grief mirrored back at him. He gave you a slight nod. 

“Yeah,” You sighed and looked up at the moon, “It is fucked.”

After a few minutes of walking in comfortable silence, you stopped in front of an apartment complex, “Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me home, though it was completely unnecessary.”

Robby shrugged his shoulders up to his ears, “Let me feel useful, will you?”

You laughed, “Alright. See you tomorrow, then, Dr. Robby.”

He watched you go inside and as he walked away from the building he found himself thinking that he wished you’d call him Michael again.

***

It went like that for weeks. Robby walked you home after every shift, though you insisted it was unnecessary. You talked about everything and nothing. The shift, the hard patients, the ones you lost. To books and music and film. To childhood stories and first loves. It was finally starting to feel like you knew each other, rather than just a projection of each other ten years ago that lived in your respective brains.

But it wasn’t long before he noticed the way you seemed to be shrinking every time he saw you. Your smile just a little less genuine, the spark in your eyes dimmed ever so slightly. And he was too afraid to ask you why.

Instead, Robby started showing up outside your building in the mornings, an iced coffee in hand for you.

A few weeks of watching the two of you walk into the ER together, all smiles and laughs, and Abbot couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.

“So,” He said as him and Robby were walking through the ER for handoffs, “You gonna tell me about your girlfriend or am I gonna have to torture it out of you?”

Robby gave him a quizzical look, “What are you on about? I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, okay, so you’re just buying iced coffees every morning for anyone these days?”

Robby laughed, “Are you accusing me of being a harlot because I occasionally buy my colleague a coffee?”

“So she’s not your girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Okay. But you’re sleeping with her?”

Robby huffed and shook his head, “No. We’re just friends.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at Robby, “Friends who… Occasionally sleep together?”

“Okay,” Robby sighed, “We’re done with this conversation.”

Robby walked away and Jack scoffed, turning to Dana, “I’m not crazy, right? They’re definitely sleeping together.”

Dana rolled her eyes, “No, actually. She has a boyfriend.”

“Right,” Jack said emphatically, “And the boyfriend is Robby.”

Dana cracked a smirk, “No, you idiot. She’s seeing someone outside the hospital.”

Jack’s eyes widened, “You’re not kidding? With the way they look at each other?” Dana just continued smiling at him, “Alright, well, no one should be surprised if Robby walks in here one day with a black eye.”

“Who’s punching Robby?” You asked, approaching the hub, “What’d he do now? Is it Mohan? Because, I gotta tell ya, I’d pay to see that.”

Jack laughed, “Not Samira, your bo—“

Dana smacked Jack lightly in the stomach, cutting him off, “You eat anything today, kid? You look peaked.”

You frowned, “I just got here. Are you saying I look like shit?”

“There’s donuts in the lounge, sweetheart.”

“Well,” You pushed yourself off the hub, unable to turn down a donut, regardless of Dana’s implications, “Yeah, okay.” And disappeared towards the lounge.

Dana turned back to Jack, who was rubbing his stomach dramatically as if he’d actually been injured, “Could you not cause trouble on my shift? Go home.”

“Fine, fine,” Jack backed away, headed to the lockers, “But you know I’m right.”

Dana watched Robby as he tracked you with his eyes into the staff lounge, “Man, could you at least try to be less obvious?” She said under her breath, shaking her head.

***

The shift hadn’t been so terrible. You hadn’t lost anyone today and had only gotten yelled at by one patient, and she had been high out of her mind so you didn’t really count it. Still, you were in your head. Or, on your phone. Dean had been MIA for a couple of days now and you were supposed to meet him at his place after your shift, but he hadn’t answered any of your texts or calls.

He had been distant lately. This wasn’t the first time he had disappeared for days on end only to show up later and act like it wasn’t a big deal. You were growing tired of it, of the games. You were forty years old now, you thought once you were this old the men would quit playing games. I mean, fuck, he had you, so what was the vanishing act about? What was he trying to prove?

Grabbing your things from your locker and placing your headphones over your ears, you pressed play on your music and began the walk back to your apartment. You turned the music up loud enough to drown out the thoughts that tornado’d around in your head.

Loud enough that you didn’t hear the man who came up behind you and squeezed your shoulder.

You screamed and jumped back– Only to see it was Robby standing there, hands up as he backed away from you, concern all over his face.

“Fuck,” You swore and bent over your knees, trying to catch your breath after tearing off your headphones.

“Sorry,” Robby said softly, “Sorry, I thought you heard me, I’d been calling after you for a while.”

You straightened, “It’s okay.”

“You, um,” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, “You left without me. You usually wait.”

“Oh–I–Sorry–I–” You sighed, frustrated with your stammering, “I’ve been in my head all day, I just…” You sighed, “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Hey,” He lowered his head to force you to meet his eyes, a gentle smile on his face, “It’s okay. What’s going on with you?”

You hesitated and then looked away from him, starting to walk again. He fell into step beside you, patiently waiting.

“Would it be weird to talk about my dating life with you?”

He shook his head, “No. Why would it be weird?”

Right, because he wasn’t attracted to you even a little bit. As he was always so quick to remind you. 

You liked being friends with Robby, but working in the same ER you could no longer deny that you found him very sexy. Especially when he caught a rare diagnosis. Or he very calmly and gently explained a procedure to a resident while alarms were beeping around them and nurses were shouting out vitals.

Even just watching the way he rubbed hand sanitizer into his hands between patients had you imagining his hands in… very inappropriate situations.

And all the while you had to remember that he was not, and would never be, into you like that. And also, you had a boyfriend. A very sexy boyfriend in his own right, though my God, could he answer the fucking phone?

“No reason,” You sighed, “I don’t know, um, Dean’s just been a bit distant lately. He hasn’t answered my calls or texts in a couple of days and we’re supposed to meet up today.”

He nodded, “And you’re thinking…?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. He’ll probably break up with me soon. Or just ghost me. That’s what they usually do.”

He frowned, “This happens to you often?”

You smirked, “I know. Hard to believe with how charming and likable I am that I can’t keep a man.”

Robby didn’t laugh, though, just kept walking and silently staring ahead. 

You let the silence stretch and fold between you, Robby clearly holding something back, but refusing to acknowledge it.

“You got something to say?” You said, more casually than you felt.

Robby clenched his jaw and let another few moments of silence pass, “No.”

You gave a short laugh, “Okay.” You said, stretching out the word, “I mean, you can say it, whatever it is. We’re all friends here.”

He shook his head, “I just wonder why you keep choosing men who clearly don’t respect you or even like you very much.”

His words stunned you to a stop. He kept walking for a few steps before realizing you stopped and he turned back to face you.

At the look of surprise, and even hurt on your face, he sighed, “Look, I… I didn’t mean that to come out so harsh, I just don’t understand it. I mean, it was clear even ten years ago from what you said about your ex husband that he didn’t give you what you needed. And now you’re with this loser who can’t even be bothered to answer a text.” He ran a hand over his face, “You could probably have any guy you wanted in all of Pittsburgh, but instead you seem to purposely pick men that disappoint you.”

You scoffed and started walking again, “Okay, so it’s my fault that men treat me like shit?”

“Really?” He fell into step beside you again, “That’s what you’re gonna take from what I said?”

“How else am I supposed to take that?”

He scoffed and shook his head, “I just wish you’d see that you deserve better.”

You laughed and slowed to a stop, “Robby, I’m fucking forty years old. I’m divorced. I’m obsessed with my work. I’m an insufferable know-it-all, as you know. I’m not easy to love. I don’t exactly have men breaking down my door to be with me, alright? Dean is… Not perfect. But he’s all I have.” He stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite place, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down at his feet, “Nothing. Nothing. I’m sorry for what I said… It’s not my business.”

You bit your lip, fighting with the tears that seemed to threaten to overflow. And maybe Robby would think that the tears were just because he crossed a line, but it was more than that. There was something so fucking hurtful about this wonderful man in front of you, who had been so clear that he did not want you, making a whole speech about how you deserved better. Had he not ever once considered that good, decent men just did not love you and never had? Going all the way back to your father who would have done anything for a bottle of scotch but couldn’t remember to pick you up from school?

“Hey,” He said gently, stepping closer to you when he noticed your watery eyes, “I’m sorry, okay?”

He dropped his backpack to the ground and pulled you into his arms, “I’m sorry,” He repeated into your hair, arms tightening around you and anchoring you to his chest. He smelt of clean laundry and fresh pine deodorant. You closed your eyes and for a moment, allowed yourself to be comforted. To imagine what it would be like to be loved by someone like him.

Just for a moment.

***

You sat at your kitchen table, leg bouncing, fingernail gnawed between your teeth as you stared at your phone. It was nearly 9PM and still nothing from Dean.

This was ridiculous. You felt like a teenager waiting by the phone all night. You were just going to show up at his apartment, as planned. Maybe his phone was broken. Maybe a family emergency had come up.

But your earlier conversation with Robby was still playing in the back of your mind. Maybe you should just swear off men for good. Get a cat and dedicate yourself entirely to work.

Sighing, you stood and grabbed your car keys from the hook by the door.

***

You had knocked on his apartment door about ten minutes ago, giving up after a couple of tries. You leaned against the wall beside his door, trying yet again to call him, but it was sent to voicemail. You swore as you hung up, and as you did, the elevator at the end of the hall dinged and you heard the doors sliding open.

A feminine laugh floated down the hallway and you ignored it, still looking at your phone, until the laugh was replaced by silence. No walking. No voices.

You looked up and saw Dean, arms wrapped around a blonde that was easily at least a decade younger than you, probably more, mouth gaped open as he stared at you, “What’re you doing here?” He asked eventually.

What were you doing here? Chasing after a man that didn’t want you, just like Robby said. The tears that burned your eyes were not tears of sadness, but anger and humiliation. You sighed and pushed yourself off the wall, “Don’t call me. I’ll drop off your things next week.”

“Baby–”

“Oh, and just a word of warning,” You turned to the blonde, “He’s terrible at eating pussy.” You said, voice full of venom. 

And then you ducked into the stairwell.

***

You had made it back to your apartment building and after turning the ignition off in your car, had begun uncontrollably sobbing, head resting against the steering wheel.

When the crying began to slow to just hiccups, you took out your phone and dialed Robby.

He answered on the second ring, because he was reliable. Unlike any of the men you’d ever been with.

“Hey,” You sniffled, “You were right about Dean. He doesn’t like me… or respect me.”

You heard him breathe for a moment in the silence as he processed what you had said, “Are you crying?” He asked finally.

You laughed and wiped your nose on your sleeve, “Yeah, I know, it’s fucking pathetic. It’s just so fucking typical that he would cheat on me with some hot blonde in her twenties and just, like, think I would never find out! He didn’t even try to hide it. Knew we had plans tonight, and– Or, I don’t know, maybe the plans were so insignificant to him he really forgot. I guess on top of being really goddamn annoying I’m also extremely forgettable.” You lightly banged your forehead against the steering wheel.

“You’re not annoying or forgettable.” He said gently, almost sweetly.

“You’re just saying that because I’m crying and you have to be nice to me.”

You thought you heard a quiet laugh, “I remembered you after two brief encounters ten years ago. Thought about you quite often after both run ins, in fact. I would say that makes you pretty memorable.”

Robby was many things, but you knew him to always, always be honest. And so his words sprung new tears from your eyes. What were you going to do when some perfect woman inevitably fell in love with him and he wouldn’t answer calls like these late at night? When you were spiraling and a fucking mess?

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t dispute the fact that I’m annoying.”

Another short laugh, “You are passionate and assertive and intuitive and very funny. None of which I find annoying.”

Your chest felt warm at his praise, “You said I was an insufferable know-it-all the first time we met.”

He sighed, “I was stupid then. Besides, I didn’t know then that you used your teasing as a shield to keep the attention off yourself.” 

His revelation shocked you into silence and for a moment you just sat there, listening to his breathing. It was scary to be known and your instinct was to lash out, but you instead counted your breaths.

“Are you home?” He asked finally.

“I’m in my car, parked outside my complex.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You frowned, “What? What do you mean?”

“I started walking over when I heard you crying. Sorry, is that not okay? Should I turn around?”

“No,” You said quickly, too quickly, and you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, “No, I mean, you should come. I would… I would like it if you were here.”

“Okay,” He said softly, “I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Okay.” You murmured and waited until the line cut out before you lowered the phone from your ear.

True to his word, Robby strolled into the parking lot just a few minutes later. When he saw you get out of your car and lock it behind you, he quickened his pace until he was in front of you, pulling you into his arms. Much like he had earlier that same day.

And again, you allowed yourself to be coddled. Allowed it when he kept an arm around your shoulders as he led you into your apartment building. Ignored the flutter in your stomach when he pressed a kiss to your hair and told you you deserved better.

A couple of hours later, you’re on the couch, both pleasantly tipsy from the bottle of wine you had opened and the tears had long since dried. Your feet were in his lap and while the two of you talked, his hand had been unconsciously running up and down your leg.

He hadn’t seemed to notice, but you had. 

“Did you say anything to him? When you left?”

You shrugged, “I told him I’d drop off his things.” Then you laughed, “I might have said something sort of awful to the girl though.”

He smirked, “What’d you say?”

You hesitated only a moment, flush building up your neck as you stared at the wine glass in your hand, “I told her that he was terrible at eating pussy.”

There’s a second of silence and then Robby bursts out laughing, “Is it true?”

You chuckled, still looking down at your wine glass, for some reason unable to look at him when talking about this, “Yes. He never made me come.”

Robby’s laughter died out and the hand on your leg stilled, “Never? Not even once?” You shook your head slowly, “How long were you dating?”

“About six months.”

Robby let out a low whistle, “Fuck.”

You nodded, “You’d be shocked the number of grown men who are clueless when it comes to knowing their way around…” You trailed off and cleared your throat, “Anyway, most men are pretty bad at it, in my experience, if they even like it.”

He exhaled heavily through his nose, “I just think maybe you have terrible taste in men.”

This again. You rolled your eyes, “As I said, the pickings are slim. Beggars can’t be choosers. Who would you have me sleep with, hm?”

When you looked up at him he was looking at you intensely. If you didn’t know any better, you would say hungrily. But just as soon as you were starting to wonder what it was he was thinking, the expression was gone and he stood from the couch, tossing your legs to the side.

“I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

You tried not to seem too disappointed, “Right. Of course.”

You stood and led him to the door, “Thank you for coming,” You said as you opened the door, “You really didn’t have to.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

You smiled and nodded, “That’s what friends are for, right?” You said, self deprecatingly. You hadn’t meant for it to sound sarcastic, but you knew he must have heard it anyway.

He nodded and looked anywhere but at you. He was acting very strange. “Right, yeah. Friends.” 

You frowned, “Michael,” You said finally and his eyes snapped to yours, “Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

He shook his head and then his eyes fell to your mouth, “No,” He said, gaze never straying from your lips, “I’m just tired.” He insisted.

“Okay,” You said slowly. He was drunk. Whatever was going on in his head right now meant nothing. Maybe he was staring at your mouth or maybe you had something in your teeth.

“Still friends?” You asked softly.

That joke. That stupid fucking decade old joke, still a shared line between the two of you, coiling ever tighter as time went on. And now it was fraying.

His eyes met yours and this time there was no mistaking the hunger in his gaze. You had mere moments to process the fact that Robby was looking at you with raw, unadulterated desire before his hands had grabbed your face and his mouth crashed into yours.

You gasped in surprise, but he was undeterred, his mouth hurriedly exploring yours as he moved you out of the threshold of the door and kicked it shut behind him. Beneath your initial shock, your body reacted. Robby was a man you had pined for on and off for more than a decade, and he was kissing you like you were a fresh stream and he hadn’t had water for so long that he couldn’t remember what it even tasted like. It took little more for the arousal to begin pooling in your stomach, for the ache between your legs to grow and expand.

But then, he licked into your mouth at the same time he lightly pushed you down on the couch and you could feel the way you dripped into your panties.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” He said breathlessly as he crawled over you.

You could only shake your head, watching him above you like this. You were so full of want, you leaned up to kiss him again–

But he pulled back.

“I need to hear you say it.” He said, his voice husky.

You swallowed, “Don’t stop.” You breathed.

It was enough. His mouth latched back onto yours, tongue making dizzying strokes against your own, and you were embarrassed when a whine escaped you. You tried pulling him by the shirt, needing him closer. At the same time, you wiggled your hips down until you felt yourself press against the knee he had slotted between your legs, seeking pressure and friction for your throbbing center.

But Robby pulled away, “I don’t think so.” He said, “Think I want to show you how a real man eats a meal.”

Were you dreaming? You felt like you were dreaming. Because there was no fucking way Michael Robinavitch was towering over you, obvious erection growing in his pants as he tugged your ankle to bring you to the edge of the couch. There was no goddamn way he was lowering himself to his knees in front of you, eyes never leaving yours.

But he was. And he tugged your shorts down over your knees. When you went to wiggle out of your panties, he stopped you, “Not yet.”

Slowly, he kissed and sucked his way from the side of your knee, up your inner thigh, until you were impatiently wriggling beneath his mouth. He said nothing, only wrapped an arm around one of your thighs to still you.

Finally, he turned his attention to your clothed pussy, running a finger down the damp spot at your center and sighing when your back arched.

“You’re so easy to rile,” He murmured, “It’s a mystery he couldn’t make you finish. It’ll probably only take me a couple minutes. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

The pet name went straight to your head, blood pounding in your ears. Your only response was a breathy sigh as he began delicately kissing you over your underwear. He began to apply a bit more pressure and you could feel his hot breath through the flimsy fabric.

When you felt his tongue, still over that fucking fabric, you moaned loudly, frustrated, “Michael.”

You felt the smug fucker smile against you before his fingers slipped under the cloth at your hips, pulling down. You lifted your hips eagerly to allow him to pull them off you.

Mercifully, he didn’t tease you any longer, his mouth was back on you immediately. If you were eager, he was desperate now, shoving his tongue deep in you and lapping up your juices. His hands held your thighs down so firmly when you squirmed, you thought he’d probably leave bruises.

He moved his mouth up to your swollen clit, humming against it as he pushed a finger inside you. You were so tight around his fingers, getting wetter and tighter as you approached your climax. With every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his finger, you felt yourself lose a little more control.

When he added a finger you thought maybe your brain was so overwhelmed with the pleasure it had forgotten to trigger your lungs to breathe. But a moment later, he sucked on your clit just hard enough to send you toppling over the edge and you were gasping for air. 

When he felt your orgasm rip through you, he released your hips, finally allowing you to grind against his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you while you tugged him by the hair closer to you, impossibly closer.

When it was over, he pulled away from you, rising up to kiss your mouth, the taste of you still on his tongue. He kissed his way up your jawline to your ear.

“How was that?” He murmured against the shell of your ear.

You were still seeing stars from the intensity of your orgasm, “How do you think?” You gasped.

You felt him laugh against your neck and then his body pulled away from yours. You mourned the loss immediately, but clenched your fists at your sides to stop yourself from reaching for him.

“Could I use your bathroom to clean up?” He asked.

You frowned and looked to his pants, still clearly tented from his erection, “It’s at the end of the hall, but let me—“

When you reached out to palm him over his pants, he jerked away. Rejection coursed through your veins and instantly, you knew you were flushed with embarrassment. 

“It’s okay,” He said and smiled at you, but it seemed strained, “I just wanted to make you feel good. I’ll be right back.”

He turned and walked towards the bathroom without waiting for your reply. 

You were still half naked on the couch, feeling confused and hurt as the high of your orgasm left you. What kind of guy made you come like that on the first try and then didn’t want you to touch his cock? What sort of fucked up point had he been trying to make?

***

Robby splashed water on his face, washing the remnants of you from his mouth and beard, and then looked at himself in the mirror.

Oh, you’ve done it now, man. He thought, You’ve absolutely fucked it.

He’d ruined everything. One brief lapse of self control and their entire friendship was now set to implode. 

But you had looked so goddamn sad on that couch and when he heard that loser not only had cheated on you, but couldn’t even make you come, it had flipped some primal, animalistic switch in his brain.

Until all he could think about was you coming undone under his mouth while you moaned his name. 

Still friends? You had asked at the door and he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t say the practiced words and finish the damn joke like he always did. Friends didn’t wonder what the other’s pussy tasted like or what they sounded like when they came.

What was an orgasm between friends? Maybe he could still salvage it. Maybe they could just pretend it never happened. 

He wasn’t prepared to lose you, not when you had just showed up at PTMC after he had spent years thinking about you. Wondering how you were doing. If you were still here or if you had moved away. If someone was finally loving you how you deserved.

The two of you were drunk. It hadn’t meant anything. You would regret it in the morning and he would graciously act like he didn’t know what you were talking about. He’d give you a few days of space and then he’d show up again with an iced coffee and walk you to the hospital. And everything would go back to normal.

It had to. He wouldn’t accept anything else.

***

Robby had left in a rush that night after he came out of the bathroom, giving you a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead as he did.

You were left feeling confused and hurt, that he had rushed out like that after the way he kissed you and touched you. Tasted you like you were a fine wine to be savored. Then turned around and acted like nothing happened. Like he had just done you a favor.

Your thumb hovered over his contact on your phone for a couple days after. You both had four days in a row off of work, a rare blessing. You typed and deleted many texts. And then there was a knock at your door.

Fuck, was he here? Maybe to apologize, to explain why he ran out like that. He was scared, he wanted you, he was in love with you. You felt like a lovesick teen for hoping. 

More likely, he would say it was a mistake and it wouldn’t happen again. And you would accept it even if it broke your heart because you had no other choice. You could either have this much of him or none at all.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Robby standing in the hallway with flowers and coffee. 

It was—

“Dean?”

***

Robby was pacing outside your apartment building with your iced coffee in hand. It had been four days since he last saw you. Four days of replaying that night in his head, getting off to the thought of how you felt and tasted. The way you sounded so desperate for him when you moaned his name.

But that was behind him now, he could forget about it if it meant keeping your friendship.

He froze when he heard your building door open and turned to look— It was you. 

You hadn’t noticed him yet, staring at your phone and headphones over your ears. He watched as your lips parted slightly in concentration, tongue darting out to wet them.

He swallowed and averted his eyes. It turned out it wouldn’t be so easy to pretend like nothing had happened. 

He’d keep trying though.

Finally, you looked up and you gave him a confused look as you pushed your headphones off, “Hi,” You said slowly.

He smiled and held out your coffee. Still frowning, you took it, “What are you doing here?” You asked softly as the two of you began the walk to the hospital.

“What do you mean?” He asked, staring ahead. He could feel your eyes burning holes into the side of his face, but he kept his focus ahead of him. It was all easier if he just didn’t look at you. “We do this every morning.”

“Right…” You said slowly and then scoffed when he didn’t say anything further, “Okay. Fine.”

“What do you mean, fine?”

“I mean if you want to act like everything’s fine, like you didn’t get me off on my couch a few nights ago, then okay. I’ll do the same.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose and kept looking ahead, “Okay. Great.” He could hear the irritation in your voice, but he ignored it, “How was the rest of your time off?”

He could feel you staring at him again, and then he thought he noticed you shake your head in his peripheral.

“It was fine.” You said finally, then you cleared your throat, “Actually, Dean showed up with flowers a couple of days ago. Said it was a mistake and begged me to take him back.”

Robby gave a short laugh, “Would’ve paid to see the look on his face when you told him to fuck off.”

You didn’t laugh with him. Didn’t say anything at all, in fact, and he felt his stomach twist with dread, “You did tell him to fuck off, didn’t you?” He asked quietly.

Still, you said nothing. Finally, he turned to look at you, but you were staring intently ahead. The tips of your ears red with what he assumed was embarrassment. Perhaps shame.

He scoffed, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“The last thing I need right now is you on your high horse–”

“Do you have no goddamn self respect, is that it?” He spat, voice rising, “You chase after men who hate you because you hate yourself?”

You stopped walking then, your whole face flushed with either anger or embarrassment, maybe both. 

“You have no fucking right to talk about the men I’ve been with when you behaved just like all the rest the other night!”

“Me?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “What are you even talking about?”

“You fucking ran out of my apartment, leaving me half fucked, and acted like it was no big deal. Don’t call. Don’t text. Then you show up at my apartment with a fucking coffee like nothing happened! Like it meant nothing!” Tears of frustration pricked your eyes, “At least with Dean I know what I’m getting, with you… it’s… it’s hot and cold and I never know what the fuck you’re thinking or what you want–”

“I want to be friends.” He said quickly, “I want to be your friend, I want you to be happy.”

You nodded and looked up towards the trees, willing the tears back into your eyes, “Right. Friends. Friends don’t lead each other on.” You said, lip curled, and then you continued your walk to the hospital.

He stared after you, stunned, and then jogged to catch up to you, “I told you from the beginning you weren’t my type–”

You were drowning. It would have been kinder for him to have tied a weight to your foot and shoved you in the river.

You turned and placed your empty hand on his chest and shoved, “Fuck. You.” He was much larger than you and you had a coffee in your other hand so he remained sturdy, though he fell back a step. Tears were streaming down your cheeks now, “We’re not fucking friends. We’re not anything.” You shoved the iced coffee back into his hand, “Just leave me alone, okay?”

Robby stared after you as you stormed off, jaw clenched and melted iced coffee in his hand.

***

Jack and Dana watched as you stormed into the ER, face red and splotchy. Your cheeks shined with tears under the fluorescent glow of the lights above. Robby strode in only moments later, a melted iced coffee in his hand that he tossed in the trash by the entrance as he walked over to the hub.

You were rushing around after stopping at the lockers, draping a stethoscope around your neck as you ambled right into Robby’s path, causing the both of you to stop short to avoid a collision. Jack and Dana watched as the two of you stared each other down for a few seconds, tension palpable, before you stormed off again. Robby stared after you for a moment before running a hand down his face.

Jack and Dana exchanged a look before Jack stepped to Robby and clapped a hand on his back, “Hey man, why don’t we get some air?”

Robby sighed, “I just got here, Jack.”

“And yet you already look like you’ve been through the ringer, so humor me.” He said and steered the other man by the shoulders to the stairs.

Once on the roof, Robby leaned over the railing and Jack joined him, his eyes roving over Robby, “What happened?”

Robby sighed, “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, man, what’s going on with you and Y/N? You ran after her at the end of the last shift. Now you walk in separately and if looks could kill, my friend, you’d be six feet under right now.”

He shrugged, “I fucked up. Crossed a line I shouldn’t have. I hurt her without meaning to. Now she wants nothing to do with me.” He looked at Jack and smirked, “That’s it.”

“So what’re you gonna do about it?” Jack asked, turning his attention back to the Pittsburgh skyline.

He laughed, “Nothing. She told me to leave her alone, so that's what I’ll do.”

Jack shook his head, “I don’t buy it.” Robby looked at him incredulously. “The two of you have been drawn to each other like magnets over the last, what, ten years? And you’re just gonna let her walk away?”

Robby smirked, “I already told you, it’s not like that with her. We’re just friends.”

“What line did you cross, then, huh?” Robby didn’t answer, jaw clenched as he avoided Jack’s stare, “I’ve seen the way you look at her, man,” Jack shook his head, “It’s not friendly.”

Robby was terrified that Jack may be right. That all this time he had been convincing himself you were just a friend, he had been falling for you instead. He knew the way the staff talked, not just Jack. Again and again, he dismissed them as rumors, a bit of lightness to keep everyone’s head above water. But what if there had been truth to it?

He had been so scared of losing your friendship he didn’t stop to think that the reason he was so scared was because maybe he cared for you more than just as a friend.

And if that was true, he had wasted so much time and energy fighting against it only to lose the war anyway.

Robby rubbed at his beard and shook his head, “Well, it really doesn’t matter because I fucked it, so.” He pushed himself off the railing and started walking towards the door that led back to the Pitt, “I should get back down there. Go home.”

Alone on the roof, Jack heaved a sigh, “I should really be getting paid extra for these free therapy sessions.” He murmured to himself before he walked back to the door.

***

For weeks, Robby tortured himself by reliving your last conversation in his head. The realization that you were hurting and he was the reason, it made him feel sick at times. In addition to that, after his conversation with Jack on the roof, he realized too late that he was in love with you. He thought about telling you many times, but it was so clear you wanted nothing to do with him, he thought it would probably just hurt you more.

The one time he had followed you out of the ER at the end of the shift intent on finally telling you, he had walked out to see your arms twined around Dean’s neck, your mouth smiling into his. His stomach had twisted and he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. It was wrong, it felt all wrong seeing you wrapped around him like that. He knew he had fucked up his chance with you, but it hurt worse that his fuck up had pushed you back into Dean’s arms.

 He did his best to stay out of your way, but it was difficult. Since you were an attending yourself, he didn’t need to be involved in all of your cases, but there were times when you begrudgingly asked for a consult. Or a really rough trauma came in and it was all hands on deck.

It was uncomfortable for everyone on those cases. The unresolved tension between you two acted like a whirlpool, extending out and dragging unwilling participants to the center. You would bicker over treatment plans or silently glare at each other over patients.

Once, when he had walked in to you performing a thoracostomy with a warm water lavage, he thought he might fire you from how frustrated he was.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hypothermic drowning victim, troponin levels suggested there was a cardiac event, I’m clearing the clots and rewarming with warm saline.” You said calmly without looking up from the patient.

“Did you consult cardio?”

“There wasn’t time.”

“You could have at least fucking called me.”

You looked up at that, and then back down, “He’s back to sinus and at normal temp.” You said and began to deglove, “I’m not going to apologize for saving a patient.”

He followed after you as you walked back to central, “You and I both know you’re supposed to call in your chief attending for approval whenever you want to do some crazy procedure that is outside the standard of care–”

“It wasn’t outside of the standard–”

“You’re not a fucking cardio attending,” He said, louder than he meant to. Others turned to stare at the two of you, “Look,” He said, lowering his voice, “You can hate me all you like, but we have to work together when we’re here. And that means,” You had rolled your eyes here and he had to move his head to force eye contact with you, “That you consult me before you do anything that is considered outside the norm. Got it?”

You sighed, “Loud and clear, boss. Can I go now?”

He stared at you a moment longer and his eyes fell to your mouth. He hadn’t meant to stare, to recall the way your mouth felt against his or how soft and pliant your lower lip was when he pulled at it with his teeth, but that’s what he found himself doing.

And you noticed. He watched as your frown deepened and you turned, walking away before he could say anything else.

“Fuck,” He murmured to himself and laced his hands behind his neck. 

“You okay, Cap?” Dana asked as Robby trudged over to the hub, leaning over on his forearms.

“Just peachy.” He sighed.

“You coming out tonight? It’s Princess’s birthday. Everyone’s going to Monterey’s.”

“Everyone?”

Dana smirked knowingly, “Yes, I heard she’ll be there too.”

He shook his head slowly, “Then, no. I will not be going.”

She sighed, “The two of you cannot keep going like this. If for no other reason than it’s starting to affect your work. Time to put your big boy pants on and face… whatever the fuck is going on with you.”

“What do you want me to do, huh? She wants nothing to do with me. Should I lock us in a room together and force her to talk to me?”

Dana shrugged, “Maybe, if you think that’ll work.” Robby shook his head and looked away, “Come out tonight.” Dana said, “There’s nothing a drink or two can’t fix.”

***

It was 8:30 when you walked into Monterey's, having gone home to change. You hated going out in scrubs, it felt wrong somehow.

You spotted Robby almost immediately where he stood near Dana, but pretended you hadn’t noticed him as you headed to the bar. 

It didn’t seem to matter though, because he was next to you two minutes later as you waited for the bartender to return with your drink.

“Could we talk?” He asked.

Your eyes flitted up to his and you found yourself momentarily distracted by how beautiful he was. The freckles, the crinkles at his eyes. You had had to work very hard not to notice the last few weeks. 

You turned back to the bar, “I’m waiting for my drink.”

“I can wait.” He said immediately.

You drummed your fingers against the bar top, “If this is about earlier–”

“It’s not about work.”

You swallowed, “Well, what, then?”

He didn’t say anything, eyes following the bartender as he made your drink. Once the drink was in your hand, he began walking, gesturing for you to follow as he led you outside.

It was quiet out here. The Sun just barely peeking over the skyline, a faint orange glow illuminating everything. You felt claustrophobic as he led you down an alley on the side of the building. It had felt like forever since the last time you’d been alone together.

He came to a stop and turned to you, clearing his throat, “How are you?” He asked softly.

You sighed, “Robby, I don’t–This is unnecessary–”

“Look, I know I fucked up. I think about it every day. But I can’t–”

“So you regret it then? What we did?” Your voice broke as you said it. There were so many layers to how hurt you still felt after everything with Robby. It was difficult to untangle most of the time, so you had just buried it. But standing here with him so close, you could feel it all clawing to the surface, demanding your attention.

“No.” He said firmly, “No, I don’t. I regret the way I handled it.”

You took a sip of your drink and looked away from him, “I see. So you just wish you had maybe let me down easier, then? Is that it?”

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “This isn’t coming out right. I’m so fucking bad at this.”

You scoffed, “I’m just gonna go back inside, okay? We’re good, I promise, I will make sure to consult you–”

“I love you.” He blurted out, and you froze. “I’m in love with you. I’ve probably loved you a little bit from the moment I met you.”

For a second you just stared at him, the only sound was the sound of each other’s breathing. 

Then, your eyes watered and you inhaled a shaky breath, “Don’t do this.” It came out breathless, a desperate plea, “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” He reached out, grabbing your free hand to keep you from running.

You were shaking your head, turning to leave, then turning back when his hand tightened around yours, “You’re just lonely, you don’t want me.”

He tugged you by the hand until you were just inches from him, “I do,” He said nodding, “I love you. And I can say it as many times as you need me to to believe it.”

You swallowed, “You said just a few weeks ago that I wasn’t your type and you’ve been saying it for ten years.”

He shook his head, eyes roving over your face until they settled on your mouth, “We were both there the night I kissed you. Do you really believe that?”

Not really, no. You could still feel the urgency of his tongue in your mouth. You could still hear his reverent sighs at the sight of you naked. Still, he had pushed you away, left you alone and rejected.

Your chin wobbled, “Michael.”

His name came out in a broken plea. You weren’t sure what exactly you were begging for. For him not to mean it or for him to mean it. 

He laced his free hand through the hair at the back of your neck, “Don’t be scared, okay? I’ve got you this time. I promise. I was stupid, I was so afraid of losing you as a friend I ignored the way I really felt.”

You rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes. You wanted to believe him, but you were afraid, too. Afraid he’d change his mind, like all the rest. Leave you more broken than when he found you. 

“I love you,” He whispered and pulled back to kiss your forehead, “I love you,” He repeated, pressing a kiss to your cheek. And he went on like that, kissing your face all over as he repeated those three words and you felt like your chest was being cracked open. If he reached in to pull your heart out, to hold it, still beating in his hand, you’d probably let him take it. You’d let him do anything he wanted if you could just stay in this moment.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore and you caught his mouth with yours. He pushed you into the brick wall behind you, careful to place his hand between your head and the hard stone. The single act of tenderness had tears springing to your eyes again and you felt so fucking pathetic that you kissed him harder, desperate to drown out the feeling.

He moaned when you pulled gently at his lip with your teeth and the sound had the muscles coiling low in your belly, heat accumulating with every new taste and touch and sound.

Mouth still on yours, he frantically unbuttoned your jeans and shoved his hand down between your legs. You whimpered when he dipped a finger just barely into your entrance, his sigh in your ear sounded like relief. Like he had been dying to touch you like this for weeks and weeks, and finally he was saved.

When he pushed his finger fully inside you, you cried out and he covered your mouth with his own to stifle it.

“Robby,” You sighed as he stroked your walls, thumb coming up to rub dizzying circles around your clit, “We… We shouldn’t… I haven’t—I’m still with De—“

“I know you were not about to say another man’s name when I'm knuckle deep inside you, right, sweetheart? You wouldn’t do that, would you?” He added a finger and you would’ve folded if it weren’t for his body pressed to yours, keeping you steady, “You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You gonna come nice and quiet in my hand so no one hears you?”

God, no one else had this effect on you. No one else could talk to you like this, make you soft and malleable like warm putty. It drove you insane. He drove you to the fucking brink and you knew you would still come back and beg for more. He made you insatiable.

When you didn’t immediately answer him, his hand stilled and you whined, shimmying your hips against his hand.

“You can be quiet, can’t you?” He dragged his teeth down the column of your throat, sending chills down your spine.

“Yes.” You sighed, “Whatever you want.”

You felt his smirk against your skin and his fingers started stroking you again. You had to stifle the moans that fought to climb up your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to climax.

“There you go,” He said, pressing tender kisses to the side of your face, “So close, I can feel you. Be a good girl and come for me, yeah?”

His praise sent shockwaves through your body and to quiet yourself and prevent yourself from crying out, you bit down on his shoulder.

“Did so good for me,” He murmured, pulling his hand out and re-buttoning your jeans for you as you fought the daze of your orgasm. He kissed your head and grabbed your hand, “Come on, follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place.”

“Oh— What about Princess?”

“She’ll forgive us once the rumors spread about why we left together.”

You fought the smirk on your face, “Dean is expecting me later—“

Robby turned to look at you, “Fuck Dean, alright? Let him wait up for you and wonder where you are for once. It’s more than that jackass deserves.” He started tugging you by the hand again and you found you didn’t want to argue.

You knew it was wrong, to punish Dean the way he had hurt you, but in truth, you didn’t think he’d care much when you didn’t turn up tonight. You wouldn’t tell Robby this for fear he’d show up at Dean’s apartment intent on fist fighting him, but you knew he’d continued cheating on you the last few weeks. 

It didn’t hurt as much as it had the first time you found out. Probably because you had been hung up on Robby. 

You’d break it off with Dean tomorrow. Right now, you just wanted to let Robby have his way with you.

***

Finally seeing Robby naked for the first time felt as close to a religious experience as you thought you would ever experience. In his bed, you were kissing every freckle, every scar, every tattoo you could reach while your hand was between his legs, stroking his erection.

He looked wrecked and love drunk as you worked him. Your lower lip caught between your teeth as you learned what touches had him moaning, which had him gasping for air, and which had his eyes rolling all the way back in his head. 

It wasn’t long before he tore your hand off him and pinned it above your head, pushing his tip teasingly to your dripping core, “That’s enough of that, I think.” He said, broken voice betraying just how close to the edge you had brought him.

Quickly, you watched as he ripped open a condom and pulled it onto himself. Wasting no time, he gripped your hips and dragged you underneath him before pushing himself inside you. The stretch had you gasping, but he bent his forehead to yours, kissed you through it as he pushed into you. Every thrust was slow and achingly tender. His eyes rarely left yours, only to occasionally bury his face into your neck.

Anytime you suggested a different position, he shot you down, “No, no,” He’d repeat, your legs locked around his hips, “Just like this,” He’d pant, “Want you underneath me just like this.”

When he finished, you muffled his moans with your mouth, thrusting your hips up into his when the intensity of his orgasm had him unable to keep moving through the aftershocks.

Afterwards, you stared up at the ceiling fan, your head resting on his chest.

“I love you, by the way.” You murmured when you could feel yourself drifting into sleep, “Don’t know if I ever said.”

He kissed your hair and dusted his fingers over your shoulder, “You didn’t have to.”

***

2024

It was cool and cloudy in San Diego that morning. You fiddled with the ring on your finger as you stood backstage at the annual American Academy of Emergency Medicine conference. 

Michael stood behind you, hands rubbing reassuring circles into your shoulders, “You’re gonna do so good, baby. Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried, I could do this talk in my sleep,” You smirked, “I’m just thinking about the first time I saw you here, when you did your talk.”

He laughed behind you, “Well, it wasn’t here.”

“You know what I mean.” You said and covered one of his hands with yours.

“Yeah,” He said, “If I had known my future wife was in the audience I would’ve picked a better shirt.”

Your grin spread across your face as you looked down at the engagement ring on your finger, “And I probably wouldn’t have worn booty shorts to the airport, but hindsight is 20/20.”

He hummed and then your name was being announced, a brief intro given, and then Michael kissed you quickly before gently pushing you towards the stage.

Later, in your hotel room, the both of you were drunk and sprawled out on the bed. Your head rested on his stomach and he had an arm draped across your chest.

He picked up your left hand and inspected it, “I love seeing this on your finger. Probably should’ve proposed the first time I brought you home.”

You smirked, but there was a nagging thought in the back of your head. One that had been there since he got down on one knee.

“What’s wrong?” Robby asked, even drunk he was ever perceptive of your mood changes.

“Nothing.” You said quickly, “Everything’s perfect.”

He let a moment of silence pass, twisting the ring on your finger between his thumb and forefinger, “You know you can tell me anything, right? Nothing’s too scary or too much.”

You did know, but it didn’t stop your brain from convincing you otherwise. Eventually you swallowed and lifted yourself onto your knees so you could turn to face him.

“Do you ever think about the rate of divorce among emergency medicine doctors?”

He frowned, “Not particularly, no. But I gather you do?”

“I just—“ You sighed, “I love you, obviously, so much. But I—I wonder sometimes if… If getting married just invites the possibility of breaking this. And… And what we have is really good and I don’t—“

“Hey,” He sat up, “Slow down.” He paused, “How long have you been thinking about this?”

You sighed, “I don’t know, since you proposed, probably?”

He raised his eyebrows, “Right, okay.”

You deflated, “You’re mad.”

He shook his head, “Not mad. I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

“I’m sorry.” You could feel your abandonment fears dusting themselves off in your head. You had never felt as secure as you had with Robby. You had felt loved and safe from day one. Your fears that he would leave again, he proved over and over were unfounded. No one had ever shown up for you like this. And that made the prospect of losing him even scarier.

“Tell me more about it.” He said, “Your fears.”

You sighed, “I—It’s okay, we don’t have to. I want to marry you, I do.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” He said gently and wrapped his arms around you so he could pull you to his chest, “But we should still talk it through.”

You swallowed, “If the rate of divorce for ER doctors is so high, does the rate double when it’s two ER doctors instead of just one?”

He’s quiet a moment as he mulled it over, “You ever think that maybe an ER doctor marrying another ER doctor lowers the rate of divorce, rather than increasing it?”

“How do you figure that?”

“Both people understand the crazy schedule and the difficulties of the job. And if you’re like us and work in the same ER, you see each other day in and day out, even with that crazy schedule. Being colleagues probably increases healthy communication and conflict resolution outside the ER.”

Already, you felt soothed, “I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Well I have even more compelling evidence for you.”

You smirked, “What’s that?”

“None of those ER doctors that got divorced were married to me.”

You laughed and turned in his arms so you could kiss him, “I love you.” 

After a moment, you pulled away from him slightly, gears turning in your head, “How long of a drive is it to Las Vegas?”

Robby stared at you blankly until his brain began to catch up, “You’re serious?” He asked, his voice breathless.

You nodded, “I want to be your wife. Right now.”

His laugh was high and unbelieving as he ran a hand through his hair, “What about our friends and family—?”

“We can have a real wedding. Maybe a year from now, we do the whole thing right, renew our vows. But I don’t want to wait that long to be yours.”

He smiled, “You’re already mine.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Not legally. Besides, don’t you think there’s something really romantic about getting married in secret, just the two of us?”

After a moment of searching your face, probably trying to make sure this wasn’t some sort of mental break, he nodded, “Okay.” He laughed and shook his head, “Let’s get married.”

***

“The only car we have left is a manual.” The woman running the rental counter had bleached waves and thick black eyeliner. She chewed gum as she spoke, “Can either of you drive a manual?”

“Sorry,” Robby said, grin already spreading across his face as he squeezed your hand, “There’s no automatics left, is that… Did I hear you correctly? Only a manual?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Robby. To her, he probably seemed insane, “Look, can you drive a manual or not?”

He looked back at you, then, smiling and shaking his head, “Yeah, we can both drive stick.”

The two of you had walked out of the rental store, giggling and swinging your hands between each other like children. 

It was a five hour drive, so you bought donuts and coffees. Once in the car, you propped your feet up on the dash and stared over at Robby, who was reacquainting himself with a manual.

“You sure you remember how to drive stick?” You asked, mouth half full of donut.

He glared over at you, but couldn’t resist breaking into a smile anyway, “It’s like riding a bike.”

Placing his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, he started the car and began backing out of the parking lot. As he peeled out and fiddled with the radio, you rolled the windows down and were surprised when tears pricked your eyes when you looked back over at him.

You thought about all the heartbreak and lonely nights the last eleven years. The times you thought you’d be alone forever, or worse, stuck in a relationship with someone who didn’t want you. You mulled over all the nights you had allowed yourself to dream about that doctor you met in Florida. A fifteen hour drive that seemed to have rearranged all the planets and constellations of your life. 

He had been your north star over the last decade, always seeming to guide you back to where you were supposed to be. Which was here. In this car. Windows down as you sang along to the radio. His hand held yours as it rested on top of the gear shift. Taking you to your wedding. Taking you home.

[jadore-f1]

Hard Launched | LN4 | chapter 1

Synopsis ♡ A series of coincidences lead the world to thinking that you’re dating Lando Norris.

Genre ♡ SMAU, Lando x Fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, may be slightly suggestive in future chapters

Notes ♡ MDNI (no smut but I am a +18 blog), my first smau! i’m having so much fun with this lol so i hope you guys enjoy! 🫶🏾

Face Claim ♡ Kianna Naomi (any other pics are for outfits and general vibes) all credit to pintrest for photos

y/nuser

(one minute video and one picture)

15k 💬 600 ⤵️ 343

y/nuser: @/Kwnway @/Kehlani Y’all did your big one with Worst Behavior i’m obsessed! So you know I had to make a lil combo for it 😘 Watch the full video on YouTube and get a behind the scenes look at my creative process!

bestieuser: oh you ate this upppp omg teach me

↳ y/nuser: I gotchu pookie one on one lessons coming up 🫦

↳ bestieuser: 🧍🏾‍♀️see here you go with that freaky stuff

↳ y/nuser: my bad 😭😭😭

nicolekirkland: 🔥🔥🔥 as always, can’t wait to collab again!

↳ y/nuser: 🫶🏾🫶🏾 yes we need to get back in the studio together asap

user1: ur so talented!

user2: @/user3 are you seeing what i’m seeing?

↳ user3: i’m peeping for sure…

↳ y/nuser: ???

user4: loving the dance but the shoes!! i need immediately

↳ y/nuser: thank you lovely, they’re from Aldo you can use the code linked in my bio for money off ✨✨

user3: @/user2 i can’t find anything showing they know each other

↳ user2: idk it feels targeted like the lyrics plus she’s wearing his jersey in her yt video 🤷‍♀️

user5: she’s not his usual type at all i think you guys are reaching

user6: ew what is she even doing

user7: LMAO bitches do anything for attention

user8: 🙄🙄typical slut just trying to use Lando for clout he would never go for her

↳ y/nuser: Not to fucking much???? who are you even talking about

Maxfewtrell: 👀

Meanwhile…

New Stories Posted!

Lando Posted on his story!

🏁F1gossip has posted a new article!

New WAG on the rise?

LANDO NORRIS & INFLUENCER SPARK ROMANCE RUMORS AFTER NIGHTCLUB SIGHTING

Lando Norris, McLaren’s golden boy is fueling the rumor mill once again. But this time it’s his off-track moves that have everyone buzzing. The 25 year old driver was spotted at an exclusive London nightclub over the weekend, but it’s who he was seen with that has fans putting on their detective hats. None other than Y/N L/N, a 24 year old dancer originally from the United States.

Eyewitnesses say the pair arrived separately and weren’t really seen close together BUT maybe they’re just good at keeping it low-key in the public eye.

The speculation started when Y/N posted a dance cover to a song fans felt was heavily targeted towards their beloved driver. With lyrics like

“Keep drivin’ one hand on the wheel and one inside it Speed into your crib to get me riding”.

The post was soon followed by a youtube video where she can be seen wearing his iconic papaya merch. {link to video}

I mean come on girl, it doesn’t get more obvious than that!

Naturally, social media went into overdrive.

“Why is Lando always at these clubs? Who’s that with him??” wrote one curious fan.
“Okay but if Lando and Y/N are a thing… I’m not surviving this season,” tweeted another.

To add fuel to the fire, followers noticed Y/N and Lando both posted very similar Stories the next day, coincidence? F1 Twitter thinks not.

So, are Lando and Y/N just friends who party, or is there a new power couple on the horizon? Only time and perhaps a cheeky soft launch — will tell.

But for now, we’ll be keeping our eyes on the grid... and the guest lists.

Okay sooo thoughts? 👀 no direct interaction between our main couple but trust! it’s coming soon 🙂‍↔️i have so many ideas i just gotta make them make sense you know. gotta figure out how to turn the enemies to lovers because shes sick of him at the moment 😭(deservedly so tbh) Anyways Thanks for reading!! love ya 🫶🏾🫶🏾

[cutielando]

what's a soft launch? | max verstappen

social media au

synopsis: in which Max soft launches his new girlfriend, his boss' daughter...

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: max verstappen x horner!reader

my masterlist

Instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, gigihadid and 4,192,472 others

yn.horner thank you for having me, VS 🎀

view all 69,842 comments

gigihadid you're gorgeous <3 so happy to have had you there with us

yn.horner awwww thank you g!! ly!!!🤍

zendaya you killed it!!🤍

yn.horner thank you babe!!🫶🏻🫶🏻

user1 my jaw is on the floor.

user2 MOTHER

user3 SHE'S THE MOMENT, SHE'S THE MOMENT❗️

user4 imagine how lucky her friends are🥲🥲

alexandrasaintmleux i am so proud of you <3

yn.horner thank you, alex!!! 🤍

lilymhe how are you so beautiful? 😭

yn.horner you tell me, love 😭🤍

redbullracing our girl! 💙 liked by yn.horner

user5 i need to know what Christian had to say about this lol

yn.horner he was in the front row 😅 he loved it!!

user6 so nobody is going to address Max being in her likes??

user7 they’ve known each other ever since he joined Red Bull, i think they’re friends. not that weird

user6 true, but i heard some rumors that he might be in a relationship too…

user8 your honor, i love her ! liked by yn.horner

liked by yn.horner, landonorris and 2,103,476 others

maxverstappen1 Always a pleasure to be back in Abu Dhabi

view all 59,284 comments

user1 NEW COUPLE ALERT ❗️❗️❗️

user2 is Max in his soft-launch era?

user3 MAX HAS A GIRLFRIEND??????

landonorris sneaky, mate

maxverstappen1 thanks for teaching me

user4 i never thought i would see the day when Max would learn something relationship-related from Lando

landonorris neither did i 😂

redbullracing keep pushing! 💙 liked by maxverstappen1

yn.horner i'm telling Dad you refused to wear the RB shirt

maxverstappen1 please don't, i genuinely forgot it this morning

yn.horner LIAR

redbullracing how about we have a chat before quali, Max?

maxverstappen1 I can’t believe you ratted me out

user6 if people still don't think that Y/N and Max are dating, i'm sorry for you guys

user7 why do you think that? they've been friends for years

user6 they've never interacted on social media before, and suddenly started leaving comments on each other's posts a couple of weeks ago?

user8 that doesn't mean anything, to be honest. we should really stop reading so much into their personal lives...

charles_leclerc i see you've finally grown the courage to do it, Max

maxverstappen1 courage is a strong word. i have enough courage

charles_leclerc sure you do

user9 they're dating, i'm also calling it

Real Life

"Someone just said they think we're dating" you said, showing Max a comment you had seen under his new post.

Max read the comment and chuckled, shaking his head.

"We can't hide anything from them, can we?" he said, leaning back down to rest his head in your lap.

"No, but we can have a little fun with it before we announce it officially, don't you think?" you said, a smirk tugging at your lips.

If there was something that you loved and was really known for, it was trolling the media and the fans.

Even though it would drive your father crazy and give your PR team much more work than what they would hope for, but the fans were digging it.

Despite knowing you were messing with them, they loved the cat and mouse chase you always had going on with them.

"Again? You know Christian told us to tone it down a notch, especially you" Max said, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

You sighed, jutting out your bottom lip in an adorable pout that you knew Max could never resist.

"But you know it's fun. Don't deprave me of my only source of entertainment, Max" you whined, gazing up at him with your best puppy dog eyes you could muster up.

Max sighed, shaking his head as he looked away from you and stared at the wall in front of him.

He knew he would give in sooner or later, which he blamed himself for always falling for your little trick.

"Alright, fine. But you're gonna deal with Horner on your own when he comes knocking on our door" he said, pointing with his finger at you.

You squealed and nodded before launching yourself at him, attacking his face with little kisses as you giggled.

"Promise"

Instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, gigihadid and 4,193,582 others

yn.horner doing very sinful things in Sin City 🤑

view all 78,192 comments

user1 SOS ALERT: MOTHER HAS LANDED IN VEGAS

user2 oh no, here we go🥹

redbullracing remember: please keep it PG! 😁

yn.horner as i've already told you, i'm not a child

redbullracing your PR team would disagree

redbullracing Y/N, please remember what we talked about - PR team

yn.horner THE BETRAYAL

user3 i love how the red bull team can't keep up with her😂😂

yn.horner they just don't know how to have fun :(

maxverstappen1 we all know your idea of 'fun' is hardly normal

yn.horner i don't remember you complaining until now

gigihadid can't wait to see you, bestie!!🎀

yn.horner can't wait!! i've missed you🤍🫶🏻

user4 just casually being besties with the biggest model in the world. oh, to be her, man

landonorris oh boy

yn.horner shut up

user5 your honor, she's mothering so hard right now🥹

user6 do we agree yet that the boyfriend she is soft-launching is Max?

user7 yep

user8 at this point, looks like it

user9 just waiting for confirmation at this point

lilymhe ditch him and come hang with me bby

yn.horner omw!!!

alex_albon well, that was easy...

liked by yn.horner, redbullracing and 1,291,483 others

maxverstappen1 Thank you, Vegas. It was a very special one. Grateful for everything, grateful for winning my fourth championship with this team. Let's keep pushing to the end of the season!🦁

view all 59,284 comments

yn.horner you showed them, champ 🦁

maxverstappen1 <3

redbullracing proud of you, Max! here's to many more! 🦁🦁 liked by yn.horner and maxverstappen1

landonorris well done, max. i'll get you next year

yn.horner keep dreaming, orange boy

landonorris hey...don't be mean...

maxverstappen1 what she said

landonorris ...

charles_leclerc congrats! now, can you let some of us have a go...?

maxverstappen1 no

charles_leclerc oh, come on...

yn.horner go away, french boy

charles_leclerc hey, i'm monegasque!!!!

user1 another testament to his greatness

user2 4-time world champ!!! congrats max!!

user3 i still wanna know who his girlfriend is

user4 it's obviously Y/N, they just like playing with us

user5 maybe they'll confirm it now that he's won his 4th championship

user6 hopefully, imagine Max and Y/N Horner actually dating

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 5,194,816 others

yn.horner dear max. i don't think my words on this post do you justice, but i'm going to do my best to encapsulate the feelings that i have for you right now. it has been a privilege for me to be by your side for the past couple of years, cheering you on from the sidelines and celebrating the highs with you behind the scenes. we have come a long way and we have had a hard road, but i am so proud of what we have achieved together and the people that we have become. i am beyond grateful to be able to share life with you, both in and out of the paddock. i love you, max verstappen, and i am so proud of you, my love tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 98,173 comments

maxverstappen1 thank you for being you. i love you<3

yn.horner i love you too <3

landonorris thank God I don't have to keep it a secret anymore

yn.horner you almost exposed us more times than i can count -_-

landonorris but i didn't

maxverstappen1 you got lucky

redbullracing our favorite couple!!

charles_leclerc i am so happy for you guys!

maxverstappen1 thanks mate!

comments on this post have been limited

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

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[its-luna-noel]

puppy chronicles

06. the naughty puppy | sukuna x reader

The JJK men are gifted a hybrid puppy. ...wait, that kind of puppy? alpha!human!jjk men x omega!hybrid!reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, hybrid!au, omegaverse, hybrid!reader, omega!reader, pet play, collars/leashes, smut, heat/rut, knots, oral (m! & f! receiving), slave/master dynamics, slight mind break, slapping/spanking, sukuna's a little scary, non-con to start off

word count: 3.6k

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: aaaand here is the last puppy chronicle, this one for our king of curses sukuna! i had a blast writing these, so i hope you've enjoyed! ty all for reading <3

One of the palace slaves brings you before the King of Curses.

There’s a black leather collar around your throat, and a leash to match clipped on the o-ring. Nothing else covers any other part of your body; you’re naked, crawling on your hands and knees behind the slave. You’re tugging against the leash, fighting with all you have, yipping and snarling at him as you go.

He pays you no mind, simply tightening his hold on the leash and dragging you forward on your hands and knees to meet Sukuna. You continue to pull against him the entire way.

When you come to the throne room, Sukuna is already waiting. He’s dressed in his usual robes, and he watches you with an unimpressed expression as you approach, still growling at the slave who’s escorting you.

“Another one?” Sukuna asks, looking down his nose at you, like you’re repugnant, a filthy roach on his floor come to bother him instead of the gift you’re supposed to be.

“A gift from Kenjaku, my lord,” the slave says, bowing at the waist. “Would you like me to take her to the kennels?”

Sukuna sighs, like it’s all one big disappointing interaction. “No, leave her with me.” He holds out his hand for the leash.

As soon as the leather changes hands, you try to bolt.

Sukuna’s grip on the leash holds fast, though, his fist tightening as he yanks, and you come stumbling towards his feet. He dismisses the slave with a wave, and the boy who escorted you here bows before scampering out of the throne room.

Leaving you with the curse lord, right at his feet.

You take a good look at him, trying to take in your chances of escape. He’s massive, and he has tattoos of a criminal littering his body, including all over his face.

Very little chance, you decide.

He raises a leg and toes at you, like you’re an animal. You suppose you might look like that to him, with your fluffy ears and tail and the sweet slick that’s drenching between your legs. You were chosen to come before Sukuna because you’re on your heat, making you even more desirable, even to the king of curses.

But you’re more than that, more than a pretty little puppy, and you tug against the leash once more, your collar digging into the soft flesh at your throat.

He hums as he looks at you, red eyes scanning up and down. “A bratty thing,” he mutters to himself, like he’s thinking aloud. “Kenjaku’s finally learned I don’t like those subservient little puppies he sends. Good, that will make this more fun.”

Sukuna then reaches forward, and you try not to flinch as his hand comes towards your face.

He drags his fingers down your cheek, sharp nails lightly scratching your soft skin. “Such a little thing you are,” he muses to himself. “So easily broken. How do I know you won’t just fall in line after one little punishment?”

You growl at him, baring your teeth as your ears pin back against your skull. You snap, “I’m not some toy to be played with and broken.”

His eyes flash, and a wicked grin spreads across his handsome face. “We’ll see about that, little girl. On your knees for me.”

You don’t move.

With a swift movement, Sukuna kicks your feet out from under you, and you’re crashing down to your knees, wincing as they crack against the throne room floor. You glare up at him, even as he stands from his throne and circles you, like a predator eyeing up his prey. His steps are slow and purposeful, and his eyes trace every curve and contour of your body, taking in the sight of you.

He hums, the sound rumbling deep in his broad chest. “A pretty thing, no doubt. I’m glad they brought you to me, little puppy. I do so like breaking my toys.”

He comes back to the space in front of you, sinking back down onto the throne. He watches you with a little more interest, now, with the prospect of breaking you on the horizon. 

He starts disrobing, revealing his perfectly cut chest and abdomen, covered with more tattoos. If you hadn’t been given to him as a gift, as a prize, as a slave, maybe you would appreciate the sight more.

Then he slips off the loose pants he’s wearing, and his half-hard cock springs out. He settles against the throne, looking at you expectantly. “Well?” he says.

You grit your teeth and stay firmly planted where you are. You won’t pleasure him without a fight.

He growls under his breath and grabs your jaw with the hand that’s not holding the leash, bringing you forward. You squirm, but his nails dig into your cheek, and you hiss at the sensation as he drags you toward his cock.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You fighting just makes me harder, you know.”

And it’s true. You can see him getting more turned on by the second, his dick growing harder and longer and pinker until it’s blushed a beautiful shade of red.

You almost wish you could appreciate the sight. But you won’t, because you won’t give him the satisfaction.

He still holds you by the jaw, and he squeezes, forcing your mouth open. He grabs his cock with his other hand, nudging the leaking tip past your parted lips. “No teeth,” he rumbles, “or I will kill you here and now.”

Despite your attitude, you don’t doubt that he speaks the truth. So you push away the thought of biting him and instead slacken your jaw, staring up at him as he slowly slides into your mouth.

You let him, but you do not move, do not bob up and down on his length, do not hollow your cheeks and suck. You just sit there, letting him use your mouth, allowing yourself this small defiance.

He slaps his hand lightly against your cheek in warning. “Show a little enthusiasm, brat. Don’t you know it’s an honor to have the king’s cock down your throat?”

You glare up at him, still not moving, like there’s a hundred places you’d rather be than between his thighs. When you don’t pick up the pace, he brings back his hand before bringing it down on your cheek, this time harder. It’s no longer a warning.

You have to hold back a whimper at the pain that lances across your face.

“Mm, such a disobedient little thing. Or maybe you’re just dumb, don’t know how to please someone. Is that it? Just an inept little girl who soared too close to the sun? I’ll show you, little thing; I’ll show you how to please me.”

And with that he grabs your hair at the back of your head, his fingers lacing tightly through your locks. You wince, but before you can pull away or even try to fight him, he’s shoving you down onto his dick. At the same time, his hips surge forward, forcing himself all the way down your throat with such force that you can’t help but gag.

He groans when the sweltering tissue of your throat clamps down around him. “Fuck, that’s it,” he says, continuing to fuck your mouth, even as you gag and tear up around him. His hips piston in and out of your mouth, dragging past your lips until just the tip is left inside before pushing forward again and again and again.

He grits his teeth, not wanting to make too much noise. Not wanting to give you too much satisfaction for the way your mouth takes him in so perfectly. But it’s not long before he is, indeed, moaning quietly, his hips canting forward at a more uneven pace. “That’s it,” he whispers again, crimson eyes trained firmly on your mouth as he watches you take his entire length. He can see his dick probing your throat from the outside, bulging out every time he shoves it back to its rightful place inside your mouth. Your eyes are full of tears, dripping down your cheeks as you continue to gag, the sound only turning him on more. He just pushes you down even harder.

He’s getting close.

So he drags you off of him with a wet, lewd pop, not wanting to cum down your throat. He’d rather not waste his royal seed on an ungrateful little mouth.

So he, hand still wrapped around the leash, stands from his seat and tugs on the leather, forcing you to follow his lead. He walks around you until his broad chest is against your back, and then he pushes you forward so you stumble and catch yourself against the throne.

He grabs one leg below your knee and yanks it up, planting your foot firmly on the seat. Then he bends you over until you’re grasping the back of the throne, your hips perfectly presented to him.

“Don’t move,” he orders. Then he bends down at the hips, putting his face right up against you, and licks a stripe up your cunt.

You gasp at the sensation; you had no idea he would do something like that, eat you out when he’s meaning to treat you so cruelly. You thought he was going to hurt you for the rest of the night, to punish you until you see starts and inevitably do come crashing down and shattering against the throne room floor.

Sukuna, on the other hand, knows there’s more than one way to break someone. And sometimes, it’s with pleasure that the toughest brats fall to their knees.

Sukuna’s long tongue laves against your outer lips, wetting them before pushing in and tasting you, licking at your slit. Then it travels down, curling around your clit and flicking against it, paying rapt attention to the bundle of nerves. Your slick tastes so sweet on his tongue, like the ripest fruit or the sweetest candy. He brushes his tongue back and forth on your clit, feeling the tissue slowly swell and grow harder beneath his ministrations.

You’re panting already.

You start to rock your hips back against his mouth, but before you can start to ride out your pleasure on his tongue, a sharp smack! echoes through the throne room.

A red handprint blooms on your ass.

“I said don’t move,” he snarls into your cunt, tongue curling again before he moves his hand down, pushing two long fingers into your drooling pussy without pretense. He feels you clamp down on him, so tight and warm, and he almost can’t wait to be inside you.

But that will have to wait; he’s not done trying to break you yet.

He continues licking at your clit, finding a rhythm and pressure you like, based on how your knees shake every time he moves his tongue. Your lips are clamped tightly shut, not allowing him to hear your sounds of pleasure, but that’s fine; he knows it's only a matter of time before you give up and shatter for him.

You’re even quiet when your first orgasm takes you, your cunt squeezing down around his fingers as he continues to lick you through it.

It’s when your second hits that you finally start relaxing, opening up, moaning.

He grins into your cunt and lightly drags his teeth over your clit, making your hips jump and eliciting a high-pitched mewling sound from between your lips. Then he starts pumping his fingers into you even faster – it’s clear he was holding back before – overstimulating you as you yelp and try to run from his mouth, his fingers.

He drags you back towards him, snarling, “Quit running, brat. Let me taste this perfect cunt.” His fingers leave your pussy and instead dig into the plush flesh of your hips, holding you still as he eats you out, this time fucking his long tongue into your quivering hole, feeling you clench around the hot, wet muscle.

He lets out something that sounds like a groan, and you wonder if he’s taking pleasure in this as well.

Your third orgasm doesn’t wash over you as much as it completely drowns you, your legs going limp at the intense pleasure that rocks your insides. But his strong hands hold you up, keeping you in place on his throne, right where you belong, as he continues licking at your pussy.

He keeps going for what could be hours.

You’re drenched in sweat and slick, and it’s dripping down your thighs towards your knees now, entirely soaking your lower half. You’re sure Sukuna’s jaw is tired, but he doesn’t stop – in fact, he only keeps going faster and harder, until you’re sobbing with overstimulation, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“P-please,” you cry, the word stuttering from your lips.

He chuckles, grinning into your pussy. “Please what, little girl?”

“I-I c-can’t,” you sob, your legs once again threatening to collapse beneath you.

“You want me to stop?” he practically croons, his tone mocking as he wraps his lips around your swollen, abused clit and lightly sucks.

You sob again and nod fervently.

And that’s good enough for him, it seems. Because to him, that sounds like a concession of defeat. A white flag.

He helps you down from your propped up position on the throne, instead sitting you down on his lap, back to his chest as you straddle his thighs. He rubs your chest for a moment, flicking and pinching your nipples for a while until he grows bored. Then he reaches down and positions his cock at your entrance, and – without asking for permission, for what king needs it? – he slides into your dripping wet, overstimulated pussy.

You let out a cry, hands clawing at his forearms, leaving nail marks in your wake. Sukuna doesn’t care to berate you over it; he’s just glad he’s finally got you right where he wants you.

Fucked dumb, just by his mouth.

He drops his hold on the leather leash and lets it dangle at your side. He won’t ne needing it anymore to control you.

He holds your hips and guides you up and down on his dick, starting an unforgiving pace as he thrusts up into you. He grunts, head falling back against the throne as he feels you, still so fucking tight, clench around him as he buries himself inside you.

You moan so loudly he’s sure the slaves in the next room can hear you.

He snarls in your ear, his long fingers wrapped around the delicate column of your throat, right above your leather collar. He gives one tight squeeze, enough to stop your cries for a moment, before he lets go, deciding he wants to hear them. “You like that, little thing? Like my cock inside your tight little cunt? Such a slutty girl.”

You whimper, knees shaky as he pounds into you. You can’t even speak, so thoroughly fucked that your mind is in shambles. You’re not even riding him; he’s just pistoning up into you, holding your hips and lifting you up and off of him before dropping you back down.

Gravity helps him, crashing you all the way down until your ass hits his pelvis, and you cry out every time, like you’re fucking devastated by every movement he makes.

Like you truly are finally broken.

He watches the way you take him, your pussy practically slurping him up, welcoming him into your heat. And as he pounds away, he can’t take his eyes off your glistening cunt and the way you take him so perfectly.

He wonders if you’re the first puppy he’s going to keep around.

He groans quietly, nipping at your ear as his pace starts to pick up a little more. “Gonna fill you up, little girl. Gonna make you mine. Give you my pups – you should be honored.”

You just whimper, eyes hazy as your head falls back against his shoulder, allowing you to look up at him. Letting you see his reddened cheeks, his scarlet eyes narrowed in concentration as he fucks up into you like you’re nothing but a doll. 

As you let him bounce you up and down, you start to feel that coil in your belly again. “Please,” you whimper, because you’re not sure you can take it, you think you might actually shatter if you cum again.

He huffs, panting into the crook of your neck. “You can do it. Come on, cum for me, you little brat.”

So you do, convulsing on his lap, crying out and sobbing once more at the overwhelming sensations.

And as you cum, your pussy clenching so tightly around his cock it makes him see stars, Sukuna drops you one more time onto his lap, forcing you to take his knot as he cums, too.

You practically scream at the intrusion, the insane stretch of him making tears fill your eyes once more.

He bites down on your shoulder, leaving teeth marks on your scent gland as he groans loudly into your skin. His cock twitches inside of you, painting your walls with his cum, marking you from the inside while his teeth mark you on the outside.

He pants heavily for a few moments, and when you try to shift on his lap, uncomfortable with his knot inside you, his hands tighten on your hips. “Don’t move,” he orders you. “It’ll hurt.”

And so you stay still, letting him plug you full of his seed. Then, when the swelling slowly goes down, you try to shift again, wanting to be off his lap, to stretch your numb legs.

He growls and grabs your hips even tighter when you try to stand. “No, brat,” he says, his voice a low rumble, “I’m not done with you.”

And in one rapid movement, he’s got you up in his arms, and he’s lowering you to the floor, and he’s got your back against the tiles, your hips bent up towards your head, folding you neatly in half. Then he’s fucking down into you, ramming you into the floor as he pants above you, slowly overstimulating himself now.

He can take it; he is the king, after all.

What he can’t do, however, is last nearly as long, knowing his puppies might be growing inside you at this very moment.

The thought makes him feral, and he snarls as he redoubles his efforts, forcing breathless little “ah! ah! ah!”s from you as he fucks you even harder.

“Not gonna last, pup,” he grits out between his teeth, his balls already tightening at the thought of spilling into you again. “Can you take my knot again? Can you be a good girl, instead of a filthy little brat?”

And you nod so desperately, so brokenly, that he can’t help but cum again.

He shoves his knot into you again, stretching you open on it for the second time that night. You whine even more loudly this time, like it aches, but he leans down and soothes you with a little kiss – the very first kiss he’s given you since this all started.

“Take it, little girl,” he says into your hair, his hips still moving slowly, almost languidly now, as he empties the last few drops of himself inside you.

His knot plugs you full for another several minutes, and you lay there on the floor, still folded over under him.

Then, once his knot finally goes down and he pulls out, his soft, soaked dick hitting his thigh, you think you’re finally done.

You wonder when the slave will come back to get you, to bring you to the kennels, as he said when he first brought you in here.

But instead of calling his slave, Sukuna slowly eases back onto his knees, bringing you with him and bundling you up in his arms. You’re shocked at the sudden tenderness of the action.

He lifts you up wordlessly and exits the throne room, bypassing waiting slaves that do not dare speak out of turn to ask why the hell he’s handling you instead of calling on one of them.

He doesn’t pay them a second glance as he makes his way to his chambers.

Once there, he lowers you onto the lavish bed, covering you up before climbing in himself beside you.

Quietly, through the fog in your mind, you ask, “I-I’m not…going to the kennels?”

Sukuna scoffs and shakes his head. “You think I’d send you to the kennels when my pups are growing inside you? You think little of me.”

You blush at his accusation, because you truly do. “I guess, maybe if I wasn’t your toy you’ve broken, I’d be a little more optimistic.”

He grabs your jaw, gently this time, and forces you to look at him. His expression is serious. “No puppy of mine that’s been bred will speak about themselves like that. You’re not a toy; you’re my pup, and you’re going to be the mother of my litter.” He lets you go. “Now, sleep.” He’s not asking.

And so you curl up beside him, and you notice that as you watch him close his eyes and rest, your tail starts to slowly wag against the sheets.

Maybe, one day soon, you might find it in yourself to be happy with him.

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3

[benz12313]

🥺👉👈 ridoc who falls head over heels in love with violets twin who is autistic and he's an absolute sweetheart to her, and helps her when she needs something and protects her.

Also their dragons are mated and aotrom is very over protective of her.

I had so much fun writing this. I hope this was written well. As a parent of an autistic child (diagnosed) and as someone who suspects herself and her other child are AuDHD but in the process of getting diagnosed, I really tried to represent this well. I also think in the Fourth Wing universe, at least in Basgaith, many mental differences are shunned or looked down upon, so I went that angle with this fic. Please give me feedback on how I did with this request. I also have some ideas for a part two so let me know if you'd like that! Thank you for your request though! I had a lot of fun working on it. :)

Own Worst Enemy - Ridoc x Sorrengail!Reader

Warnings: violence, death, dragon mate possessive behaviour

Word Count: 4,274

I sat quietly next to Violet, as she interacted with her- our friends. As much as they assured me that I was just as included as her, I’d never really felt that way. I wasn’t like her. I didn’t know what to say, what to do? Always feeling a little bit lost when the group was together, like I was one step behind, too busy analyzing everyone to add my own input into conversations. Sometimes it felt like they only put up with me because I was Violet’s twin, and not nearly as breakable as her. 

I was good with schoolwork and okay with challenges, at least good enough to hold my own and take minimal injuries; and my joints are stronger than hers, not popping and breaking under pressure. Perks of being a fraternal twin I guess. Our DNA isn’t identical. No, something else in me feels broken. Something deeper. More substantial. Something I never talked about with anyone, ever. 

Violet has asked before, in my moments of weakness, when everything is too much and I can’t hide. But I always am able to reign it back in then, hide it all behind a smile and recite lines I know will appease her worry. After all, the mask I wear protects me, especially growing up in a family where weakness isn’t tolerated. Even Dad, who saw straight through me. He expected me to reign it in too. Taught me in his own ways how to know what to say, how to make people look away, how to breathe when it was too much. Yet he still expected me to conform, to act like everything was okay. Like I wasn’t broken and weak minded. 

I was a good actress at least. Everyone just thought I was quiet and reserved. And they never looked too hard at me, letting me fall into the background. I preferred it that way, it was much easier.

Everyone, except Ridoc Gamlyn, of course. He was always right there. In my space, but somehow, I never minded it. Maybe because with Ridoc, it didn’t matter what I said, he just accepted it. When I missed an unwritten social rule, he just smiled and responded, somehow getting what I was trying to say instead of harping on how I said it. He was annoying at times, always a bit loud, but he could say or do whatever he felt like with no reservations, easily breaking through my walls like no other could. Not even my own sister. I was honestly a bit jealous. 

Ridoc wouldn’t let me fade either, prodding me to talk with him while the others were occupied in their own conversations. His voice usually quieter in those moments when he was trying to get me to reconnect, asking the oddest questions about whatever I was working on. It worked though, making my mind settle as I answered whatever he’d asked me, the casual back and forth grounding me, easing my anxiety over messing up. 

He could see me. Really see me, like nobody ever had. It didn’t take me long to understand though, as I quickly became interested in trying to figure him out. Nobody really saw him either. Seeing what he wanted them to see. The loud, boisterous, sexually overconfident man he let everyone see wasn’t all of him. He didn’t let them see his worry over schoolwork, or over whatever current obstacle we were being thrown as new riders (currently the gauntlet) or his disappointment when a night of fun never became anything more, even if his conquest came back, it was never more than for another round. It was such a carefully crafted act that nobody thought to ask questions, nobody seeing that there was even an act to catch. 

Nobody could see. But I could. And he knew I could, giving me a knowing smile in his moments of weakness, but I never knew what to say to make it better. I don’t really think he wanted any sympathy, hence the mask that mirrored my own. He interested me though, so completely different than the others. Even though that’s what he wanted, I could never truly look away. Not when he’d become my biggest source of safety in this death college. 

Always pushing me on the mat, giving me pointers on how to improve. Walking with me when I needed a moment, my body feeling restless. Talk about my books, even the smutty ones, maybe especially the smutty ones. He’d grin and let me talk for hours, sitting on his bed in the men’s dormitory as we talked quietly. He’d glare at any of the other men who looked at us too long, daring them to say something. To make one move towards me. None ever did. And he always listened, asking questions that actually made me think, or that would lead me to another tangent.

Ridoc Gamlyn was an enigma I could barely understand, so I too hung around. Maybe it was the same for him. Maybe we were both just trying to figure the other out, never quite getting there. Never quite understanding. But accepting. Always accepting. 

“I think, maybe you could bounce back and forth up the chimney. Your joints aren’t as weak as Violet’s so if you get enough speed and momentum…” He trailed off, as he watched me nudge my sausage across my plate. “Y/N?”

I met his warm brown eyes for a moment before my eyes quickly returned to my plate, torturing my sausage again. “I get what you’re saying. It’s worth a try.” It was presentation day, and this was my last try after all. Violet had told me her plan, but it wouldn’t work for me. If both of us pushed the rules like that, then one of us would definitely be disqualified. It was her plan, so I told her I’d already found another way. Lied through my teeth, but she’d let it go so it must’ve been convincing enough. 

“C’mon, you’ll make it.” He assured, like there was no possibility I wouldn’t. “After all, my best friend isn’t a weakling.”

The twisting in my gut wasn’t unfamiliar, it happened every time he mentioned us as being friends. Why? I wasn’t quite sure, and it was one of the few things I refused to ruminate on. I refused any negative emotion when it came to Ridoc, too afraid to let anything take hold and then let the emotions push away my only solace in this place. 

“Yeah.” I sighed. Then forced a smile as I met his gaze again, holding it this time. “Just want it to be over with.” 

He smiled, moving some hair out of my face, the annoying strand of hair that always refused to stay in my crown of braids. “I know you do. And you’re gonna kick ass, and then in two days, we’re gonna get dragons and be certified badasses.” He sent me a big grin and I sighed, looking away to hide the smile blooming on my lips. I speared the sausage on my fork and plopped it in my mouth, finishing my breakfast. 

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t get rid of me that easy.” I joked and with a quick glance from the corner of my gaze I saw his smile widen. 

“Exactly Sorrengail. You’re stuck with me. Forever.” I laughed, before standing, Ridoc quickly following me. “Besides, I haven’t heard about the end of that dark romance you’ve been reading. It’s just started getting good. And I won’t have the patience to read it myself if you go and die on me.”

“Glad to see I have some use.” I snorted at him, my body relaxing the moment we’d gotten to the hall. The noise of the cafeteria fading the further we got from it. Finally, I could actually hear myself think now. 

“Oh don’t be like that! You’re smarter than Violet, and that’s saying something.” He said and I rolled my eyes. 

“No, I just watch more than she does. It’s easier to put things together when I don’t have to worry about holding a conversation at the same time.” I countered and he chuckled, pinching my side and making me squirm away. I still giggled against my will though. “Plus the photographic memory helps.” I snorted out another laugh when he poked me again. “Stop that!” 

“Okay. Okay.” He relented, giving me a goofy grin and shoving his hands in his pockets. I knew that was the only way he’d be able to not touch me as he tried to honor my wishes. Ridoc never really could seem to keep his hands to himself when he was near me. Especially when he was nervous. “Don’t discount yourself though. You’re brilliant. Own it.”

“Shut it Gamlyn. I’ve got enough to worry about.” I sighed, taking in his expression before bumping his shoulder with my own. “Don’t need to worry about me okay? I won’t die today.” 

The anxiety in his eyes faded, replaced with all consuming warmth as I was stuck in his gaze. He opened the door ahead of us, not saying a thing. 

Ridoc’s POV

I held the door for her, warmth pulling at me as her gaze never faltered. I believed her, after all, it wasn’t often that she lied to me. In fact, she was usually unabashedly honest with me. A fact I was grateful for. She hid herself from the rest of our friends, her sister, but couldn’t hide from me. 

Her brilliant mind fascinated me, she was amazing in her own unique ways. How the others couldn’t see it was beyond me. She was definitely the strongest, and smartest of us. I just wish they could see that, that she could see that, just once. She finally rolled her eyes, moving through the door as her cheeks went pink and my chest swelled with pride. 

She was beautiful, in every way, and I'd been hopelessly pining after her since that first night when we’d been assigned to the same squad. When she’d finally met my gaze with those pretty y/e/c eyes of hers, catching me in a trance as she looked through me. Past my confident facade, straight to my core, past all the bullshit I wore like armor. But then she didn’t call me out like most would have, just cocked an eyebrow at me, and looked away. Like it was some secret that she was electing to keep for me. 

I’d been practically begging for her attention since, especially after I’d figured out that she was pretending too. That she hid herself, afraid of the inevitable rejection too. But she didn’t play pranks, pretend to be stupid and refuse any feelings too painful to address. No she refused everyone, never letting anybody too close to be able to hurt her. Only letting the rest of our friends close enough to see what she deemed the useful parts of herself, but never close enough for them to really see her. But she let me. And I knew it was because she saw our similarities. 

I was broken from my thoughts when we made it to the gauntlet, and fear seized my heart. As quickly as it’d taken over, it was gone because Y/N shoved my shoulder with hers again, sending me a bright smile. 

“We’ve got this Ridoc.” It was simple, yet wholly convincing. 

“We’ve got this.” I repeated, squeezing my hands into fists in my pockets to keep them still. To keep them from pulling her into my arms, and never letting go. 

Y/N’s POV

I made it. I fucking made it! Shock seized me as Ridoc’s bellows rang in my ears, not quite hearing it even though his words echoed through me. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, spinning me around as he held me in a bone crushing grip. He set me back on the ground but didn’t let go, burying his head in my shoulder. 

“You made it.” He whispered, and I nodded, tears pricking in the corner of my eyes as emotion flooded through me. Everything was suddenly too much as I hid my face in his chest. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

“I made it.” I whispered back, squeezing him from where my arms were wrapped around his neck. 

We made it through presentation as well. Though several of the less savory of our squad couldn’t say the same for themselves. None of the dragons really stood out to me, a hollow feeling in my chest as I walked off the flight field. I won’t be chosen. I knew none of those dragons would choose me, deep in my soul. I didn’t say anything though, not until I was sitting criss-cross with my back leaning on his pillows and headboard as I watched him sharpening his sword, talking about needing to be ready for threshing. 

“Did you-“ I paused when he quieted and glanced up at me, “Did you feel any of their approval?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“The dragons?” He asked, putting down the stone in his hand and setting the sword to the side. Damn him, he must’ve noticed my shift in mood, deciding to focus on me completely now. I nodded. He thought a moment, his face shifting into contemplation, a look I couldn’t help but find so handsome. “Not really. There was those greens that crowded your sister. But I was terrified of them. Maybe that brown one, towards the end, that was annoying the others? Rolling all around them. He was funny. But I don’t know, none of them really jumped out at me.”

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off that brown. I remember following behind him, watching him as he had softly chuckled at the dragons antics. For him to have brought it up again…maybe he was just lying to me, or himself, but he’d definitely had a connection to that dragon. My heart dropped. 

He must’ve seen it too because he sighed, before crawling over and wrapping his arms around me as he pulled me into his side, and I leaned my head on his chest. “You are gonna get a dragon tomorrow. I just know it. Maybe your dragon just isn’t sure about you yet.”

“Comforting.” I snorted, voice devoid of emotion.

“Look, I know I haven’t convinced you, and you’ll be thinking some awful things about yourself now.” He paused, sighing and looking unsure of himself as he tried to find the right words to soothe me. Failing, but he’s cute, trying like that. “Just trust that I know, more than I’ve known anything that you will get a dragon tomorrow. If any of us deserves one, it’s you.”

The raw honesty in his voice made my heart race, and despite myself, his words gave me an inkling of hope. Hope that he was right. That there really was a dragon out there who could accept me, despite my shortcomings. Hope that a dragon would find me worthy. 

“Thanks Ridoc.” I mumbled, and hoped that he’d hold me just a little longer as I worked to pull myself back together. 

He did. 

Ridoc’s POV

I wandered the woods, my mind occupied with Y/N and her show of weakness last night. She never let the facade fall that completely before, she was scared. More scared than she’d been for the gauntlet. Afraid a dragon wouldn’t want her. I frowned as I hid behind a tree as a red passed by. I knew that one wasn’t mine, but luckily it either hadn’t noticed me or decided to spare me instead. 

I’d felt a tug all afternoon as I wandered the forest, coaxing me further and further inwards, where I knew that brown was waiting. I’d meant what I said last night, it’d only been once I’d left my friends that I felt the tug. But Y/N had caught what I hadn’t last night, in that way that only she does, already knowing the brown had intended on choosing me. 

I finally started moving again, lost thinking about Y/N. Too lost to notice the forest shifting in front of me, until a deep male voice rang through my head, ‘Oh come on! You didn’t even notice me!” 

I jumped back two feet, suddenly seeing two large golden eyes staring at me from a large brown swordtail that was hanging from a particularly large tree. A tree that still looked like it was about to buckle under the weight of him. 

“S-sorry.” I stuttered out. 

The brown jumped from the tree, landing on the ground and sending me staggering from the shockwaves. ‘I suppose I’ll forgive you. Only cause you’re so worried about her. Call me Aotrom, I’ll give you my full name later. You’re mine now.’ He sniffed at me as he circled me, before settling in front of me again, looking proud of himself. 

“You mean Sorrengail? Y/N?” I specified, remembering Violet was out here too. 

The dragon made a sound, that sounded suspiciously like a snort. ‘Who else? Your mate of course.’ 

My body froze as my mouth fell open in shock. “She’s not! We’re not-“ I shook my head. “She’s my friend.”

He tilted his head, looking confused. ‘Oh? I thought…’ He sounded confused too, thinking, before his face lit up again, tail wagging back and forth. ‘I see! Eve did say she thought you two hadn’t acted on it yet when I shared my memories with her. I guess she’s right!’

My mind was swimming. This-my dragon, Aotrom, was unlike any other dragon we’d learned about. That was for sure. And he thought me and Y/N were mates??? “Who’s Eve?” I finally let the words out and the dragon puffed his chest out as he straightened with obvious pride. 

‘My mate of course.’

Y/N POV

I kept a hand over my mouth as an orange slinked by, sniffing the air. I willed my traitorous heart to slow, afraid that the nasty looking dragon would hear my heartbeats and try to eat me. Eventually he slinked out of view, and I let out a small breath as I continued on my way.

I still felt that hollowness. No pull anywhere as I wandered around aimlessly. I’d run into a dozen different dragons now, and felt nothing from any of them. 

I silently wondered if Ridoc had found that brown swordtail. I wondered if Rhi and Violet had found theirs too. If Sawyer would finally get his own. If I would be forced to repeat the year as well, and start over next year. 

I paused when I heard a rustling in the bushes, but before I could hide, one of the other cadets strode out. It was one that hung by Barlow, not in his inner circle but itching to move his way in and appease the cruel man. He was tall and fit, definitely a foot taller than me. I palmed my daggers as he stared at me, cruel grin forming as he looked me up and down. 

“The quiet Sorrengail twin.” He hissed and I glared. 

“Won’t earn you any points with Barlow killing me.” By sheer will my voice was strong. 

“Oh, but it will weaken her, and Barlow will approve of that if he hasn’t killed her by the end of the day.” My heart raced at his words as I steeled myself for the fight ahead of me. He wasn’t backing down now. 

He ran four steps raising his sword and was about to swing when air rushed around me, and then suddenly he was lifted off the ground, a giant scorpion tail sticking out his back and through his chest. With a flick of the tail his body flew behind me. 

But I was frozen in fear. Standing in front of me was a dragon, with navy blue scales and bright green eyes narrowed on me, assessing. Waiting for what my response would be. It’s tail moved slowly now, curling around its body, which gave me some hope that this dragon didn’t plan on killing me. Yet at least. 

“Thank you.” I whispered, lowering my gaze as my thoughts went wild. There weren’t supposed to be any blues out here today. 

‘I came because my mate wished to take a rider, that’s all.’ Her voice was majestic, beautiful and commanding, filling my head and making my eyes snap back to hers. She was talking to me…but that meant… ‘Yes, Strategist, I agree with my mate’s assessment. You are worthy of being mine, despite your worries. He may have been selfish, having chosen his own already, but he had assured me that you would do me proud young warrior. Now, climb on, before I change my mind.’

She chuffed out a puff of air in my face and I chose not to argue and climb atop the small blue dragon. She wasn’t the smallest of the ones we’d seen during presentation, but she definitely wasn’t the largest, I noted as I climbed on top of her. 

She grumbled. ‘I am only 21!’ She hissed out the words irritated with my…thoughts. Great she can read my mind. ‘I will grow with time! I’ll be bigger than Aunt Sgaeyl even! Just you watch!’

So don’t mention her size. Noted. Wait, Sgaeyl? Riorson’s dragon??? 

‘My name is Eventhasil, but you may refer to me as Eve.” Then she was launching into the air not a second after I had thoroughly settled into the seat, ignoring my mental question of her lineage. I gripped her tightly with my thighs, hanging on for dear life. Once she leveled out, not jostling me at all anymore, I was able to actually enjoy the wind flowing through my hair. Joy flooded me and tears welled up again. I was actually chosen. 

‘That is a habit we will have to kill with prejudice. Your doubt in yourself is sickening.’ Though her words were harsh, I think that was supposed to be encouraging. 

‘What about your mate?’ I asked, changing the subject. ‘What’s he like? Who has he chosen?’ It would be nice to know exactly which cadet I’m now tied to for the rest of my life.

‘He approaches.’ She says simply, her voice going quiet as she speeds up, forcing me to hold tighter as a brown tried to catch up. Were they…racing? ‘Yes, and if Aotrom wins he’ll be insufferable. Hold tight.’ Determination laced her tone as she tightened her movements racing towards the flight field at top speed, easily outflying the brown as she flung her wings out at the last minute, landing quickly. I was nearly flung from my seat with the maneuver, but with luck and my muscles locking, I was able to hold on. The brown landed thirty seconds later, towering over Eve as he snapped at her face playfully. She snapped back at him, narrowly missing his neck as her tail swung behind us. 

But then another dragon landed on her other side and the brown lurched forward, growling low in his throat as he eyed the other male, his swordtail curling around Eve protectively.

She, however, sat calmly amidst his display of possessiveness. Almost…bored? 

‘Overpossessive male.’ She explained, irritation lacing her tone. ‘Male dragons are known to be volatile towards any potential threats in the first few years of establishing a mate bond. And Aotrom is very…determined to keep me as his.’ An obvious affection was laced in her last words. The other male backed away, submitting to Aotrom’s dominance and claim, eyes and head down as he moved out of range. Only when the male had moved a sufficient distance away and Aotrom relaxed, turning to his mate again did I see his rider. Ridoc. Holy shit! Ridoc!

Happiness bubbled within me. There was no one better to be tied to! Holy shit. And he looked unharmed, thank the gods. 

‘Go speak with him.’ Eve somehow sounded…teasing? ‘He’s relieved that Aotrom had told the truth when he told him that you were safe. As if I’d ever let harm come to what’s mine.’ She snorted at the last sentence and I laughed. 

‘I’m glad he’s okay too.’ I sent her way as I climbed down. 

The moment my feet hit the ground they lifted again, as Ridoc’s arms wrapped around me and swung me around. “We both got dragons! We’re both riders!” His voice was full of joy as he put me on my feet again. “We made it Y/N! We made it!” His hands moved to my cheeks, and I was frozen as euphoria took over his gaze, and then in a split second, his mouth was on mine. 

Moving, kissing, me. I slowly moved back holding onto the moment as my heart burst. My crush was kissing me. Tongue slipping into my mouth as he pulled me to him, pine and male and Ridoc taking over my senses completely as I lost myself in him. 

This moment was perfection. 

And then it was ruined, by Sawyer calling our names, obviously not able to really see us yet. Ridoc jumped back, looking panicked and my heart lurched. Did he not mean to do that? His eyes scanned mine as he backed up. 

“Talk later?” He asked, and I froze. He froze too, hands hovering over my waist. “Y/N? Talk later yeah?” 

I nodded, words catching in my throat as Eve growled in my mind. But she said nothing. 

“Yeah.” I whispered, putting on a smile as our friend greeted us. 

~ I'm taking requests as well, just submit them to my inbox and I'll get to them when I have time.

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@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @worldsanna @uneducatedraccoon @nicksolemnlyswears @binksbrewcrew

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being on the Team and dating Wally

Wally West x reader

warnings:

a/n: this reminded me of the fic of wally dating a civilian and i totally forgot to follow up on that!! since it was just one scenario i thought i'd add it to the whole hc set!! and im so good fox i hope u are too!!! (i miss yj) also i assigned reader a random JL mentor whoop whoop (tried to incorporate training into this as best as i could but if you want more the training scenario would be great for a gif imagine!!)

prompt: anonymous: "Hiii dear! How are you? I saw your requests are open so I'd like to ask about Wally West x gn!reader training together headcanons (they are both in the team). Take care and thank you! - 🦊 anon"

wally and you had been familiar with each ofther for a good couple of years, but most interactions had been very formal before “the day”

you were black canary’s protege, partner, whatever you’d call it—just not sidekick

dinah and you carried yourselves with a lot of care to balance out ollie and roy’s more uh…chaotic sides, but you were still fun when you wanted to be

and that pressure really released when you joined the team

“you seem…happier. like this is what you’d been needing all along” -dinah

“i am! i think that being around people my age who are like me is what’s been missing” -you

“people like…wally?” -dinah, immediately clocking your feelings

“ugh! why do you have to be so good at that?” -you

“im a licensed therapist, it’s just apart of the job. don’t worry, it stays between us” -dinah

“when did this become a therapy session?” -you

“impromptu. just wanted to check in” -dinah

“…i appreciate it” -you

you and wally were getting on great, actually

despite his ill manners and his tendency to run circles around you without realizing it, you’d found him quite intriguing

and in training, you wiped the floor with him

“no fair! your mentor is our trainer!” -wally “she probably showed you a bunch of secret moves to take us all down”

“oh, please. you were just distracted…i think it's time to go again” -you, winking

wally scrambled to his feet to spar once more

“this is pathetic, wally’s gonna wear himself out if he doesn’t just ask y/n out soon” -dick

“i don’t know, he seems…up to it?” -conner

“i think he just likes getting pushed around” -dick

“oh, that’s not—nevermind” -artemis

missions were a different story. i mean, at first you were all business, but kaldur, dick, wally, m’gann, artemis, and conner (yes the whole darn crew) just brought something out in you

your powers were seismic, they paired well with dinah and her sonic screams—but a new team meant a delicate hand

like, the first time you caused a small seismic event you knocked wally straight down on his face

“do i still look handsome?” -wally, with grass on his teeth

“i am soooo sorry” -you

“it’s okay. you still look showstopping even when i have dirt in my eyes” -wally

“i can’t bear to watch this anymore” -artemis

“well if you talk to y/n, i’ll talk to wally” -dick

“deal” -artemis

don’t get me wrong, dinah was grilling you about not doing anything concrete about wally, but being a kid hero was very complicated

“it’s just been busy, you know? i’ve been finding my footing here and focusing on the work rather than…” -you

“rather than your personal life? y/n, i know just as well how much this job takes and the balance it requires, but you’re allowed to have a personal life. and you’re still a kid, it’s important that you can still act like it. when i met ollie, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park—we worried about each other and we got busy but we made it work. you can, too” -dinah

“i know. i know. i’m just handling the fallout with roy now, too. i’ve gotten ahold of him a few times and he’s just so stubborn. the team even found him and tried to get him on board but he’s not budging” -you

“roy isn’t your responsibility, y/n. if he comes around, great. if he doesn’t, you tried. right now i need you to focus on what’s best for you” -dinah

and she was right

and after another training day, she paired you and wally up again

maybe dinah was a sucker for good love stories who knows

but what better way to flirt with the guy you like than to knock him on his back over and over

“have you talked to y/n yet?” -dick

“sort of, but apparently dinah got to them first” -artemis, chuckling as wally got knocked down yet again

“what are they trying to do, beat him into submission?” -robin, cackling

“that’s…one way to get a guy?” -m’gann

once the sparring session was over, wally was quick to run after you to praise your moves

“babe, i don’t think these bruises are ever gonna go away” -wally “something to remember you by, of course”

“i do my best” -you

“if we were allowed to use our powers in training maybe i’d stand a chance” -wally

“against earthquakes? i don’t think so!” -you, shoving him playfully

“hey hey! training’s over, no more hitting me!” -wally

next time you tried to make contact he sped around you and dipped you so low you thought your head was about to touch the floor (it wasn’t you just felt like you could float awayyy)

your fingers were entwined with his and his arm supported your back as you leaned back, you looked up at his green eyes and let out a small breath

“gotcha” -wally

“and now what?” -you

“well, i was thinking about kissing you, but i feel like a date would be the better first move” -wally

and he delivered on that (finally), barry gave him some tips on how to be a nice date

and so did iris

which ended in some side eyes since they didn’t agree on everything said

“i think im gonna stick with iris on this one. us speedsters dont always have the best judgment” -wally “plus, she’s a west—and west is the best”

*eye rolls*

you and wally’s date went as well as a date with two metahumans could go

slippage of powers (wally bouncing his leg at record speed, you accidentally causing a low seismic event, him eating too fast, the whole table shaking until your water spilled)

you wondered if anything similar ever happened to dinah or barry

but by the end of the night you’d both cooled off a bit and as wally took you home (carried you at super speed) you managed to share a very quick and awkward first kiss

his cheeks were VERY red. a few shade off from his hair

“am i vibrating or are you?” -wally, realizing your powers were just a tad similar

“i have no idea. both?” -you

“makes sense” -wally

after that date you guys pretty much agreed you were dating

and your mentors were sooo ecstatic

dinah because she wanted you to at least try to be normal, barry because wally was being really obnoxious and he thought you’d straighten him out

little did barry know you liked wally for how obnoxious he was

missions became far more bearable with him at your side

and maybe, definitely, kaldur had to keep wally on task when you were on missions but what can he say! you were his one and only <3

“i can’t believe it took him that long, he’s like, the most impatient guy on the planet” -artemis

“i think he just liked the rush” -you

“you gonna start taking it easy on him during training now?” -artemis

“absolutely not, gotta show him who’s in charge” -you

wally would pout if dinah paired you up with someone else during training

once she paired you with conner and wally had a whole fit about it and requested to fight conner next (he kept winking at you while he was sparring and kept ending up on the floor)

(you were a bit embarrassed)

dinah and you would go to coffee shops with ollie in tow to gossip about the flash family

and wally would get some good gossip about the arrow fam as well lol

when roy found out you and wally were dating he went big brother on you

“that kid is obnoxious and only after one thing. i don’t think he’s the right one for you. you should just end it now to spare any more pain or heartbreak” -roy

“at least wally’s only concern isn’t to join the justice league, roy. i’ve seen you like twice in the past six months, i don’t think you have much of a say in my love life right now” -you

“ugh! next time i see that kid, i’m shooting him” -roy

“what?! that’s like, really harsh, roy. can you tone it down to a stern talking to or something, jesus” -you

“…bust his kneecaps?” -roy

“can’t tell if that’s better or worse. actually, yeah i can. it’s worse. his whole hero career is running. what has gotten into you?” -you

wally was a little scared of roy after you told him all of this

he was actually very scared of roy after this he just pretended he wasn’t

“dude, he’s probably just joking. im fine, really! roy’s a friend, he’d never hurt me” -wally, sweating intensely

wally hid behind you next time he saw roy

wally and you spent a lot of hours trying to test combos with your powers combined

it tested your limits, helped you discover new things you could do with your powers

like blow up rocks from long distances

and shift the ground to give wally a better path upwards

he was sooo psyched and super proud of you

“babe, that was insane. what else can you do?” -wally

“didn’t even know i could do that” -you

your BIGGEST hype man right here he loveeeess seeing you kick ass

ESPECIALLY when its a big baddie

ollie funded your junior prom excursion

“you deserve the most perfect [suit/dress] you can find, you deserve a limo ride, you deserve the best flowers money can buy—” -ollie

“ollie, this is a prom at a public school. i think all of that’s gonna make me stand out” -you

“that’s the point!” -ollie

he wouldn’t budge

“roy’s not gonna be here, right?” -wally, pulling on his shirt collar

“let it go, wally” -you

wally and you honestly had a great night—he slowed down for once and you didn’t cause any terrestrial tremors

so perfect night!

you danced, you took awesome pictures, you couldn’t wait to brag to the team about your normal kid night

until you got called in for a mission

“wouldn’t be a date night without a supervillain killing the mood” -wally

“my mood’s not killed yet” -you, kissing wally on the cheek

wally was ready to fight in your honor (despite you also being there)

and youuuu were fuming

especially after having to control your powers all night, you were ready to let loose

you opened up a crater so big this guy couldn’t escape if you gave him a week’s headstart

“babe, you rock my world. get it?” -wally, going in for a kiss

you almost pushed him away the pun was so bad!!!

double dates with m’gann and conner could get interesting

“so is canary telling you everything i tell her in our sessions?” -conner

“conner, stop being so paranoid!” -m’gann

“nope! believe it or not, dinah’s actually a professional who doesn’t run to her protege to gossip about her clients. especially when that protege is friends with the client” -you

“heyyy, let’s all cool down here. we’re having a good time as friends, not talking about work right now” -wally, always good at de-escalating any situation you were involved in when it was starting to turn on the heat

you appreciated it as you could get a little ill tempered with all the pressure on you to perform satisfactory to canary and batman

you couldn’t tell who was harder to please in this situation, but it seemed like dinah was proud of you for reasons beside kicking ass on this not-so-covert team

“you guys aren’t blowing missions on purpose to try to gain screentime and force yourself out of the ‘covert’ rule, are you?” -dinah

“hate to break this to you dinah, but we are that bad at the quick and quiet route. someone always messes it up for everyone” -you

“you caused an earthquake in a small city far from any tectonic plates on your last mission” -dinah

“didn’t say i was perfect, did i?” -you

wally was never mad when you made the wrong move unless it puts you in immediate danger

like once you purposely split the ground in an attempt to flee a most likely fatal blow and he thought you would fall into like. lava or something he was freaking out

“wally i only dropped like twenty feet, im fine” -you

“twenty feet?! you could have broken a leg or something!!” -wally

“i don’t need you telling me the risks, i’ve been at this a lot longer than you!” -you

but you always made up

(wally couldn’t go more than 5 minutes being mad at you)

you were getting cheek kisses and apologies before you knew it

and honestly, you could get on him for dumb stuff about a million times more but you dont so he knows better

and through your teenage years you supported each other in every aspect—mask or no mask

taglist: @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @ravenstrueluv // @captainshazamerica // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 // @stilestotherescue //

[wilting-wild-flowers]

●◉✿ 𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭 ✿◉●

Summary: Breaking up shouldn't need to involve a whole town's discussion, and yet here you are being stalked by half a dozen people who feel entitled to your relationship status.

Warnings: dismissal of feelings, refusal to listen or respect boundries, implied clingy Dick, Stalking behavior from waynes and co, implied unprotected sex but no smut, coercion into marriage, kidnapping

Starring: Romantic!Yandere!Dick Grayson 💙 Platonic!Yandere!Batfamily 💙 GenderNeutral!Reader

Reminder: it says so on my blog but as a reminder please dont interact with my work in any way if you are a minor or a profile with no age visible. I have had to block like 5 people already and I will continue doing so but I dont want to. Even just an "over 18" or "early 20s" in your bio is fine so long as I know youre an actual adult. I write and share these for fun, but the thought of a minor reading them makes me want to keep them offline all together so please respect my boundries.

When you were young, you loved to read about pigeons. They were smart and small and so easily overlooked by everyone around you despite the way their feathers would catch light like living oil spills. You spent months learning about how they always knew true north when flying and the ways they had adapted to cohabit cities with humans and their strong bonds. It was easy to love them once you started.

It was harder to love Dick Grayson.

On the surface you were lucky, and every girl and guy you met made sure to remind you of that. Dick was funny and kind and attentive. He remembered important dates without prompting, knew your likes and dislikes better than his own, and he had no problem flaunting you to everyone. The day he'd asked you on a date was one of the best days of your life.

"Wha-what are you talking about?" His voice sounded frayed at the edges, worn out despite the conversation just starting. There had been hope that asking him to a cafe would keep the conversation from becoming too dramatic. It was dwindling with every second that passed.

"I cant do this anymore Dick. I think were at two different points in our lives and it wouldn't be fair to either of us to try and force a connection." The waitress at the bar was clearly listening in. Did she see the way that his hand snaked out to grab yours? Did the pedestrians in the street see the way that your drink had been pulled the center of the table before you could tell him not to?

"What did I do?" What didn't he do? What didn't he take from you when he thought you wouldn't notice or fight back?

"You didnt do anythin-"

"I must have. I cant think of another reason youd throw away years of our lives if I hadn't." The blue of his eyes used to remind you of the sky. Now it reminds you of the great lakes, seas contained only because they allowed it. The desperation in his voice sounded like waves crashing against shores, eating away at the land that kept it back from the rest of a country.

"Dick its not you. Its just the timing of everything." His hands squeezed yours. His sweat was uncomfortable against your skin but when you tried to pull back his grip just grew tighter. Once upon a time his insistence on touching you at all times was endearing. Now it was just suffocating.

"Everything meaning the engagment?" The cup on the table was sweating, condensation dripping down to form a ring around its base. Deep in your gut something turned over, the brief urge to purge your guts of any trace of him inside of you nearly bowling you over.

The silence drags on. The barista eyes you two again. Would she take your side if you explained it? Would she urge for you to fix things instead when your future was on the line? Your mouth went dry just thinking about someone else telling you it was your fault.

"You deserve someone who's ready to settle down, who wants to have a family and a house and a community. I'm not that."

"I can wait until you are." We're young, there's still time!

"I might never be that." Might did a lot of heavy lifting. You knew you wouldn't be. You had known you weren't cut out for family game nights and daily dinners at the table before you had hit adulthood. No matter how many times Dick tried to con you into attending his own family events that didn't change.

"Then I wont have those things. I dont care." The man's voice was pitching up, not quite a yell but not the conversational volume of previous either. Your eyes met another customer's when you started glancing around.

"Dick, please," The hiss only seemed to egg him on.

"No! I dont want to break up! I won't!" That was a yell. There were dozens of eyes on you now, judging you for breaking the heart of a seemingly perfect man. Would they still judge you if they knew?

"Youre a real catch, youre going to make someone really happy someday Dick." It took real effort to pry your hand from his grasp. If he hadn't been sweating you doubted it would have been possible at all.

The silence that sat at the table as you stood was suffocating. His expression was devestated, mouth open and brows furrowed. Dick looked winded.

"I dont want someone. I just want you."

Dick had taken to calling you Dove when he found your sweet spot for pigeons. He had even shared that his mom called him Robin (back before Gotham's local vigilante had taken up a sidekick that is) and laughed about being two lovebirds.

That first date still feels magical to think about. Casual and real, the two of you finding common ground so fast you were stunned to have never hit it off sooner. He had asked if pigeons mate for life that night and you hadn't answered him. Just teased him for being so forward and relished in the boyish grin he sent your way at being caught.

In hindsight he was never hiding his desire for something life long. You should have noticed. You should have known.

The first unexpected visit was from Damian. Of course, in hindsight, that made the most sense. He was younger, with a better grip on how to abuse the oversized eyes that only youth grants you. He also was the one who spent the most time with Dick. If you had been paying attention, you would have read into that first meeting more and bolted from the city all together.

"Does Dick know you're here?" Damian pushed past you without a word when you opened the door. He had rain on his jacket, mud on his shoes. The sun had set hours ago, it wasn't safe for a child his age to be out in this storm alone.

It was because of this that you had let him in in the first place. The studio apartment was no where near as nice as the two bedrom you had shared with Dick back in Bludhaven, and the boy was judgemental even of that.

But, for all the strange stains and smell of mildew it was a space that was yours. Just yours. It had been years before you had any space to yourself, let alone a whole apartment.

"No, Grayson is currently under the belief that you still live together." Small hands began rooting through boxes, pulling out stuffed animals and books and pots and pans with the same disinterested gaze. "When I spoke to him an hour ago he was waiting for you to come home."

The smell of soup clung to the inside of your nose, a warm room turning blistering under his gaze. Your mouth ran dry at the memory.

"Well, you know that's not true so why are you here?" The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes. Two weeks ago the rejection would have hurt. Now it didn't reach you. There was nothing to prove to him. Nothing to fix with your ex's family. In fact if Damian hated you that was good, maybe he'd even manage to talk Dick out of whatever fixation he had developed.

"To bring you back to him. He is obviously unwell without you." Damian spoke as if telling you the weather was mild. Voice just as even when speaking about you like a run away pet as it was when he told you that of his art award at the last family dinner you attended. Fear snaked down your spine, puppet strings tightening around your bones to keep you upright and attentive.

"Damian, Dick and I broke up." It was hard to tell if your words themself were what made the boy crinkle his nose in disbelief, or if your sow and sympathetic tone was to blame. Regardless the youngest Wayne made no effort to hide his disdain.

"I am aware." The rain outside grew worse, slamming into the windows of your home without restraint. A small, scared part of you wanted to run outside into it anyways.

"Then you know why I can't move back in with him. Especially if he's already this…" Delusional? Crazy? Obsessed? "Confused."

"Whatever issue there was with the relationship I'm sure you can fix. Now, however, he needs you." Damian's eyes locked with your own, head tilted up like a prince giving an order. Somehow you managed to restrain yourself from the immediate instinct to tell him Dick needed a therapist more than he needed a fiance.

"There wasn't any issues buddy, sometimes people just aren't compatible."

"So youre giving up on him?" It would have hurt less to have been slapped. Damian had no idea what you had almost given him, all the compromises you had made through the years. He was just a kid. Damian would hopefully never know just how much you could give a relationship before realizing you had to walk away.

"No." The word was choked but a recognizable. "No, I'm just letting him free so that he can find someone that wants the same things he does."

Damian sighed. For a boy so young, his gaze always made you feel so small. Suddenly the shoebox apartment felt the size of a closet, or perhaps more akin to a lion's den.

"He wants whatever you want. Richard is a pushover that way." The way Damian said it, you had no doubt that he believed it too.

"I'm not getting back together with Dick, Damian." The backbone finally returned to your words did little to sway his expression. But you werent interested in continuing this fight. Not now, not ever. The few things you had managed to unpack thankfully inckuded a landline for emergencies and as you began to dial all too familiar numbers you did your best not to think about who taught them to you. "Would you rather I call Jason or Tim?"

"I would rather you call richard." Smartass.

"Jay it is then."

Dick was everything that made your friends blush and whine about their single statuses. Even some in relationships would swoon when he would surprise you with a new bag or drop by with an Alfred made lunch. He pressed kisses to your forehead, stuck his hand in your back pocket, wrapped his arms around you and swayed when you were waiting in lines- dating Dick Grayson was like living in a Rom-com every day. The problem with that was that you knew you weren't.

This level of clinging was a red flag. Your mother hadn't taught you as much as you or she would have liked, but she had taught you that. Dick didnt care about how many men you talked to or why, just that he was pressed up against your side the entire time you did so. If you had to work late he was understanding, but only if you snuck him into your office to keep you company while you finished up work. Hell, towards the end of the relationship, convincing him you wanted to shower alone was enough to send him into a spiral. You're still not sure if the tears were real or just another tool he had to squeee every ounce of attention from you.

It wasn't normal.

It wasn't healthy.

It felt like the only times you had space to breathe were when he disappeared for a week or two on end. No notice, no message on who he was with or why. If he wasn't so obsessively attached to your side you'd think he had an affair partner somewhere. Now you wish that had been it.

The next to visit was a two for one deal. Tim and Cas, the main public face of Wayne enterprise and the city's princess, both showed up at a small party you had been invited to. This, in and of itself wouldn't have been strange. Tim and Cas were attached at the hip when not seperated by work and favors. The problem was that this was no gala, not even a networking event. This was a small party to celebrate a successful quarter in your company.

There was no reason for them to roll up to the banquet hall in designer clothes that cost more than your company's entire budget. No one for them to talk to and network with that would provide any sort of benefit to them.

No one, that is, except you.

The first hour of their presence in the hall was easy to ignore. Between Tim's pressed grey suit and Cas's shimmering champagne colored dress the pair had all but worn neon signs that announced their position. Angler fish luring in smaller prey animals desperate to make an impression on them. All you had to do was avoid the largest cluster of people.

The problem came when they split up, Cas sliding into the shadows of the party despite her notorious status and stunning apperance.

By the time you had realized you had no visual on the woman, she was looping her arm through yours and steering you back towards Tim along the wall.

"Hey Cas! Isn't this party a little low level for you?" The laugh that clung to the end of your scentence was nervous and that sensation only increased when her gaze slid to look you over.

"Don't be afraid." You had always thought that Cassandra's voice resembled windchimes, gentle and tinkling. Now though the sharpness cut through you like broken glass.

Had Dick finally broke down and asked for help? No. No that couldn't be it. Damian still appeared at random once every few days, chastising you for the way that his eldest brother was sinking into delusion. Jason was a possible suspect though, likely growing tired of fetching the boy from wherever you happened to find him, taking longer and longer to appear and spending more time at the apartment with him when he did.

"It wouldnt be so bad, would it? Ya know goldie would do anythin' for ya." The mountain of a man hovered in your doorway as if even he was aware that you were one boundry crossed away from grabbing the baseball bat you kept by your door for intruders and swinging on him.

"Anything except respect my decisions." Your spit had earned you a thin pressed grimace and a door you could finally close. It was a victory, however small or fleeting.

"Relax, we're not here to kidnap you." Tim's voice was too smooth, an uncanny valley version of the boy who beat you at uno in Dick's apartment.

"Well, I doubt you're here for the party either." Cas's grip on your arm squeezed before she loosened it. A silent warning? A comforting support? You had always struggled to read her the most out of Dick's siblings.

"And we're not allowed to stop in and say hi to a friend?" Tim's face had that plastered on mask Dick had pointed out to you once. The broadcast of such a lean figure and such a wide smile making you uncomfortable until he pointed out the way that it didn't pinch the corners of his eyes like it had the night before. It was comforting at the time. Nice to know when you were seeing an authentic version of his family and when they were putting on a show.

It turns out knowing when you are an audience member though was distressing.

"Im sorry. I dont mean to avoid you guys or anything, I just know Dick is taking it really hard and I figured hanging out with his siblings wouldnt help." The small hotel banquet room was dull of sticky eyes and listening ears. It wouldn't be long before dots started to connect between the bludhaven transfer and the waynes. Despite this though, you kept your voice low to minimize the potential for it getting out.

It'd be one thing for you to have been dumped by Dick. It was another entirely for you to do the dumping and then move to his hometown. The press would have eaten you alive even if everything went smoothly. If it came out that you had left brucie wayne's oldest child a delusional wreck your life as you had known it would be over.

"Should visit anyways." Cas chirped. "Miss you."

"Just name a time and place." Despite the obvious platitude, both sets of eyes took on a new glimmer to them. You couldn't help but feel the weight of an unspoken conversation happening around you. The urge to pull away from Cas' grip and run back into the rumor mill behind you was so great that you actually did slip away from Cas, taking a step back.

"Friday at the manor? We have a game night planned. We even managed to convince Alfred to let greasy pizza and Chinese takeout past the front door." It's playful but cold. Your gaze flickered between the siblings for just a minute before asking the obvious question.

"And Dick?"

"He loves you." Cas said simply. As if love alone was enough to make up for everything else. Tim shot her a look you couldn't quite decipher and the woman shrugged.

"I know." You said quietly, watching them.

"You still love him as well." The statement was made to Tim more than you and when the boy's gaze looked to you for obvious confirmation. Your own gaze slipped away, scanning the crowd that was failing at hiding their interest in your hushed conversation.

"It's not about that." It really wasn't. There was a part of you that would probably always love him, or at least some version of him. "We're too different, we want different things in life."

"Its Dick, he'll do whatever you want." the flippant disregard ground into you like salt in a wound. God how many people were you going to have to explain yourself to people who weren't even there? Cas must see it in your face because she quickly steps between you and Tim before you can actually push him the way you want to.

"Nothing about us was going to work long term, don't you get that? He wasn't giving me any space and I couldn't give him what he wanted! Trying to force that to happen wouldn't have been healthy!" Your voice is little above a hiss, but its undoubtedly the harshest tone you've ever taken with a member of Dick's family and, while Cas says nothing in her spot between you two, Tim's whole demeanor cools in front of your eyes.

"And this is? You should see him, he's like a shell. All he does is talk about the wedding he's planning." Eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his chest, you can't imagine what anyone behind you is thinking about this situation.

"Dick is an adult and so am I and that means being an adult about things like breakups. I'm sorry if he's freaking you out, but he's freaking me out too!" Your stomach knotted around nothing and you were thankful that you'd steered clear of anything stronger than water tonight. Just the thought of carbonation made you naseaus. The sickness does force you to calm yourself down just a touch though. Just enough to recognize that you're not going to be heard in any way that matters.

"Look. You two stay, have fun, meet people. Im going home. And I won't be coming to game night." You feel the eyes that cling to you as you leave, more than just Tim's and Cas' but no doubtedly including theirs among them.

It wasn't that you didnt want a family. You just didnt think you were a good fit for it. You had never been the type of mesh well into family gatherings and calls with your parents or sibling were short and stilted. You were too anxious to fly, too excited about what you could do to be settled at home with a toddler on your hip.

Dick had known that. Hed never said a word about how you avoided the subject. But likewise he didnt hide how much joy he got from kids. How bashful he was when someone called you two married on accident. The first time you had met his friend Wally, married with kids already, you could see the gears turning in his head to calculate the age differences between the redheaded children and any of your own.

He never asked. Never pushed. But he never gave you the room to step back and talk about it either. Dick Grayson lived in the here and now, too busy kissing you stupid to make five year plans. Or at least not with you. Any plans he was making were secret, surprises.

Steph is the first one to show up to your job. Familiar lunchbox in one hand as she waved with the other.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" You make no attempt to hide your suspicion this time. The silly, nightwing themed lunchbox was one Dick had gotten you as a gag gift after arguing about heroes one night. It was a ridiculous gift but one that you had happily used for the rest of your relationship. You had also left it at his apartment when you broke up.

"Bringing you lunch, duh." The box sits on your desk with a dull thud. Heavy in its contents as well as its implications. "Dick wanted to bring it himself but hes on bed rest."

"Oh my god. Is he okay?" Steph's eyes look you over like a difficult math problem. You can only imagine what your coworkers must be thinking of the interaction. But bed rest? For what? He was perfectly healthy last month. Or, at least, healthy as he was any other time.

Had that been what the twins meant at that party?

She shrugs after a long minute, ponytail swinging with the motion.

"Dunno. Bman's been keeping it all pretty hush hush. Wont let anyone into his room to see him or anything."

"His room? You mean back at Bruce's?" God. That was bad. That was really bad. Dick would never stay at the manor if it wasn't dire. It also meant that the whole point of leaving Bludhaven was null and void now that you were back in the same city.

"Yeah. Whatever's going on its bad enough Alf wouldnt let him keep living alone." Steph confirms almost blase. If it weren't for the slight narrow of her eyes, you'd believe that she wasn't interested in your shocked intake of air or wide eyes. Her eyes narrow a bit, bitting her lip.

"I know everyone is kind of ganging up on you here but…It's dick. If you cared about him at all you would come visit. Even if its just to try and talk some sense into him." It was cruel to hear, but the truth of the matter was that you were close thinking the same. However fucked up Dick was you did love him and he did love you. He clearly wasn't well but if keeping your distance was making things this bad-

"What if I make him worse? Like, visiting and talking about the breakup makes him shut down completely?" The lunchbox on your desk was painful to look at but you couldn't risk seeing Steph's reaction to your own selfish fear. If you went to visit and it made things worse you might never forgive yourself. If you didn't go and he fell apart you also would have to live with guilt on your shoulders.

"He's already getting there." She sighed. "Listen, from one Wayne ex to another, they all have problems letting go. Even if you break up with them you're supposed to stick around so they know you're safe and happy. You cutting and running like that breaks the mold."

"Well I'm a trend setter." In another setting Stephanie would have laughed. As it was she scoffed in a way that reminded you far too much of Damian.

"You're also hurting a guy who was going to propose." Heavy ring on your finger, the sound of the phone call in your ears, there's still time, accidents happen-

"It wouldnt-" The words die on your tongue. Luckily Steph must have been briefed by one of the many others who have already heard your side of the story.

"Have been fair to him. Yeah. I know. But it isnt about being fair. Its about being kind." If only they actually cared about what your side of the story meant. The silence dragged on, her presence solid and your determination wavering.

After minutes of agonizing debate and wrestling your inner fight or flight response, you sighed.

"If I can get time off of work I'll consider it." Your voice was barely a whisper but the smile that you glimpsed on Steph's face as she turned to leave was blinding. The bounce back in her step as she waved. There was the distinct impression in your gut that you had made a mistake, but you couldn't tell where.

You had only been scared of Dick once. Right towards the end, when he'd been on a phone call with a friend. The apartment was empty save for his voice echoing around it and the smell of dinner warming in the stove. You had meant to surprise him.

Well, sort of surprise him at least. You were only home an hour early despite having a half day of work. But the time off was a surprise and you'd known that Dick wasn't at work today so he wouldn't have seen you out and about either. there was no better time to go and take a walk by yourself, stop by your favorite cafe. Hopefully the muffin you'd picked up for him would be an adequate apology.

The muffin was promptly forgotten when you'd snuck in, the door closing quietly behind you and your shoes slipped off before taking a single step so as not to alert him to your presence. His voice was too far away to make out at first, but the closer you got the clearer it was what Dick was talking about.

"Yeah but I mean, we're still young! Theres time to change opinions on things. And its not like we wouldnt be good parents, its just the whole image thing thats the problem." The warm feeling of love you had been nurturing withered away at an otherwise comical speed. Like a sped up timelapse of a plant curling away from the sun. Dick knew how you felt about kids, knew how you felt about family and domesticity and-

"Well I mean, its not like accidents dont happen, even if its not the traditional sort I'll figure something out." Oh gods. Oh gods you were going to be sick. This wasn't just hope that you would change he was- Dick was-

No. Calm down. Dick would never trap you like that. You know better. It's been uears and he's never even proposed. There's no way.

"Walls, trust me, you should see the smile flashed my way when I hold up little toddler clothes. I know this is right, for both of us. We just have to get on the same page and this will help." You took a step back, and then another, just as silent in leaving as you were entering. When you made it back to the front door you made a show of opening and closing it as loudly as possible, clattering your shoes around at the door.

Dick appeared seconds later, as if he'd never been on the phone in the first place. His smile was the same one you'd seen this morning when he walked you to work, his eyes the same sparkling blue seemingly innocent.

"Hey! I didnt know you were getting home early! I wish you would have called, I could have come and picked you up!" The smile turned to an overdramatic pout as Dick moved closer, arms wrapping around your waist. It normally was nice to be wrapped up in his grip but you felt suffocated. Trapped.

"Figured I'd surprise you. Surprise." Your voice was weak but aside from a curious glimpse at your face, Dick didn't push. He just snagged the muffin from your hand and began chastising you for spoiling your dinner, and doing so without him as well. Even as the night turned from a domestic dinner in to a romantic evening together you couldn't help but hear his jovial tone echoing in your ears.

Accidents happen

The email was short.

You have been approved for two weeks paid vacation. Enjoy your rest and get well soon!

The dates were effective immediatly. A two week gap that you didn't request and that you had no idea how to turn down without raising suspicion. Thinking back, the receptionist was confused to see you this morning. She must have already known that you'd be out.

Still, maybe it was a sign from the universe. You had been putting off asking for a day as an excuse to continue putting off deciding if you were going to see Dick at all. Even when Barbara had texted you to update you on his condition last night. He was asking for you now. The first break in his delusion that everything was normal between you despite your absence.

But with this email in your inbox somebody must have been listening, right? And if somebody greater than you was urging you back into the jaws of Dick Grayson then it must be for a good reason. Some sort of greater good at play then just your comfort.

Besides, Dick was at his father's house. You wouldn't be alone with him. If something started to go wrong there would be someone to help within minutes of screaming.

The dread had grown over the weeks and, as if sensing your displeasure, Dick only grew more insistent on being with you. Every second of every day that he didn't have a responsibility he could pawn off on someone else, you had yourself a lanky gymnist drapped over your shoulders like an overgrown housecat.

The tighter he held, the more you wanted to bolt.

He continued trying to intitate intimate moments but you just couldn't bring yourself to be in them. Not with the idea of an accident happening or knowing that he might pull out dirty talk of how good you would look full of his kids. How hot it would be to have you here at home waiting with a baby on your hip when he got home from work. How well he would take care of you.

It was just meaningless pillow talk before but now it felt more like a plea, a bargain you couldn't make.

You tried to convince yourself in the moment that that was why he had pulled out all the stops for dinner. That that was why he insisted on you dolling yourself up and getting into a suit that you had vocally gushed over in the past. It was easy to convince yourself that he was just trying to reignite the relationship when he ordered wine and entrees and then desserts.

But his hand on your wrist, shaking as he held a ring in the other, was too much of a wake up call to ignore.

"Please. Please just…say yes." Your silence was deafening in the empty dining room. It had seemed ridiculous to rent out the restaurant at the time. Did he do it because he knows you don't like strangers? Or was it because he knew that he would have to beg you to let him put the ring on?

"I can't." When you finally respond to him, daring to look up from the ring that he must have gotten from his father, your mouth goes dry. Dick is on the verge of tears again, gutted and desperate in a way you had never seen.

"Why? Don't you love me?"

"Dick, we live in a city almost as bad as Gotham. We're both trying to figure out our careers and life goals an-"

"I'm not. I'm not confused. I just want you." —- "If its just the city we can move. I talked to my uncle out in kansas, there's this little farmhouse for sale. We could pack up and move out tomorrow. Tonight even."

"It's not just the city."

"Please. I love you, don't give up on us." And maybe it was the wine speaking, or the desperation to get out of there that led you to close your eyes and sigh. Maybe it was neither of those things and you were just desperate to live in that world with him for a minute.

All you knew for certain is that when he leaned across the table to kiss you, mouth hungry against yours, you pretended not to notice the weight of the ring on your finger.

The manor loomed over you, but the man next to you was twice as bad. You had only met Bruce in passing. Dick still had a complicated relationship with the man and, quite frankly, you couldnt stand him. But Alfred was away and you were familiar enough with Dick's childhood home to find his room alone.

"I appreciate you coming to see him." The tea in front of you was growing cold, untouched. Your nerves were so bad you didn't think that drinking anything was a good idea until after you had gotten this whole situation over with, but when Bruce had insisted you didn't know how to turn him down without seeming rude.

"I just want what's best for him sir." Your voice sounded meek. What must this man think of you knowing how you've hurt his son? Would he believe you when you told him that you still love him? Does he know why you had to leave?

Whatever answer you're looking for, you don't receive it. Only a low hum is given as a response, melding into the background of the manor's ticking clocks and creaking floorboards.

"How is he?" Your hands find the tea cup out of lack of purpose. You need something to hold in your hands and hide behind as you look up at Gotham's most influential man. Bruce stares back, calculating.

"We have him on some sleeping medications at the moment to ensure that he's resting and not just laying there with his eyes closed." The knots in your stomach return just before you lift the drink to your lips. You set it down immediatly.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I don't want to make him worse." Bruce Wayne sighs, a deep and trouble noise that you can't comprehend fully. His chair squeaks under him as he shifts.

"I think that you are the only person capable of giving me my son back. I'm just sorry that I've had to put you in this position."

"It's okay." You placate, trying for a steady smile despite knowing that you fall short. "But, uhm, I'd like to see him now if that's okay."

"Of course. Right this way." Bruce stands, hands tucked behind himself like the butler you've met so rarely. You move past him without a thought.

You also are caught in his grip without a thought.

By the time your brain has caught up to the circumstances there has already been a pinch in the back of your neck and the world is fading fast. And even then the only thing you're capable of putting together is less than eloquent.

Shit.

When you wake next its to a deafening sort of silence. you've only ever lived in cities and towns with big roads that run through them so the lack of traffic and pedestrian noises may as well be a physical slap to the face. Its this that lets you know you're in trouble before anything else.

The next sensation to tip its hand and let you know just how fucked you are is the way that your limbs remain heavy and strange against the bed. Despite having slept for gods know how long you're still exhausted in a way that you suspect has something to do with the pinch at the base of your neck. Though, you hope not. If Bruce Wayne really did drug you and move you, there's no telling why.

"You're awake." The third sign is a voice that takes far too long to place. You haven't spoken with Jason since the night he tried to convince you to drop Damian off at his apartment while Dick was there.

"Where…am I?" The words in your mouth feel like glue. Jason snorts and you hear the turn of a page. Your whole world has been turned upside down and he's reading.

"Bum fuck nowhere, kansas. Bruce figured Dick could use some motivation."

"moti…vation? For what?" It takes far too much effort to pull yourself into a sitting position, but you do eventually get up. From the new position you can see wood flooring and rich colorufl wallpaper. There's a closet open and full of clothes you recognize, but a nighttable with jewlery and trinkets that you don't. Not except for the ring.

"Well, he's not allowed to see ya unless he eats all his meals. When he does, then Dickie gets to see you asleep in your wedding bed like you're waiting for him to get better." You should be focused on the image of his family using you like a carrot on a stick to motivate Dick, but your brain has latched onto a different problem Jason has presented. Jason hasn't even looked up from his book, some worn copy of a title in another language. "So he stays motivated to actually get healthy so he can shoe everyone outta his house and have ya to himself."

"Wedding bed? What-how long-" Your breathes are coming closer and closer together.

"Ya don' wanna know." Jaosn sighs. "Between you and me doll, the less you know about things from now on, the easier it'll be. Jus' wear your ring and play house and life will go much, much easier for ya."

"And if I dont?" The fear makes your voice pitch up. This, finally, brings teal eyes to rest on your face. It's strange how similar he looks now compared to the first time you'd met him. Tired expression, pitying eyes, slump to his shoulders like he's already given in to some great demand you don't know about.

"I wouldn' test it. Ya got too many eyes on ya now." The realization comes quickly, the pack mentality of the waynes on full display and you didn't even bother to see it. Too caught up in a world where maybe they just missed you as their friend and not for what you did for their brother. Maybe that two weeks off wasn't a sign from the universe to visit, maybe it was a sign to run while you could get a head start. "'sides, I'd just enjoy what you can before dickhead gets the itch to have a little bit more noise around the house if ya catch my drift."

The pointed gaze is enough to send you into full blown hysterics. Jason doesn't reach over to comfort you, but he doesn't leave you to suffer alone either. He just sits next to you in silence, waiting for you to come back to yourself.

When you do you see he's handing you that stupid ring and, without any choice in the matter, you put it back where it was always going to end up.

Authors Note: Dick is the type of freak to just believe youre still together despite all proof and i will die on that hill. All honestly this was partially on by a drabble I read ages ago from someone else that just has never left me. But despite doing my best to root through my following list and find them I couldn't figure out who or even when it was posted. I just remember someone talking about how yanderebatfamily would 1000% kidnap dicks partner if they broke up and it has for real lived in my brain rent free since then. so if this plot seems familiar PLEASE comment below so I can give the original poster their flowers!!!

Also yesterday was my birthday and I genuinely spent half of it writing this monster. I am unwell lmao.

[tpwk-formula1]

Biggest Fan - CL16

Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! 💕 I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fan🤭just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuff🥹"

AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!

Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!

Charles insta stories over the fall break

Twitter

Charles instagram

Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others

charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser

user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there

user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!

youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!

user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam

user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!

carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?

user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!

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Your insta story

user12 how does it feel to be living my dream

carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him

youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him

user13 his eyes

charlesleclerc that's one lucky man

youruser he really is!

user14 I love the way you guys love each other

landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together

youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive

Twitter

your Instagram

Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others

youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!

Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!

charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise

user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me

charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N

landonorris Can I also know the surprise

charlesleclerc NO!

user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST

user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha

user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.

Your Insta Story

charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!

user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!

user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!

landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!

youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee

user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing

Twitter

Charles Insta story during the show

Max's Insta story during the show

Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!

maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again

Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)