#Bat-Friendly Practices

[batsandbirdbrains]

I want the entire Justice League to just be so fucking scared of Dick!Robin. He’s like 8-10 when they first meet him, but he’s somehow more horrifying than Batman. He’s teeny tiny and a cross between a fluttery little sprite and a shadowy demon. They’re still not sure if Batman is human or not, but they’re all convinced that Robin is some sort of entity. He’s a ghoul, a spirit, an eldritch horror that must haunt Gotham for some Godforsaken reason. And he either picked Batman to latch onto, or Batman saw him and plucked him up and thought he’d make a good companion.

One day, he gets so mad at Green Lantern for poking fun at Batman that he bites him so hard, Hal’s arm bleeds. Batman had grabbed him by his cape and dangled him in the air, telling him to apologize, but Robin just hung there with his arms crossed and a pout on his face. He did eventually say sorry. They all knew he didn’t mean it. He had blood drying on his lips. He didn’t wipe it away. It wasn’t until Batman put him down that the bat even noticed, then used his cape to clean him up.

The next time they saw him, he was giggling and asking Hal if yellow is his greatest weakness, and if his own yellow cape causes Hal pain. Then he leaned forward and whispered, “I hope it does” before giggling again and skipping away to ask Superman something.

Hal didn’t come to the Watchtower for two months after that.

Dick is enamored by Superman. He loves him. Follows after him all the time, is always asking Superman to take him flying. Clark takes him every so often, but cackling laugh Robin lets out while they’re in the air sends a chill down his spine.

Martian Manhunter admits that he once accidentally brushed against Robin’s mind, but all he picked up was distorted circus music.

That freaks everyone out, and now they hear it in their own heads whenever they catch a glimpse of Robin.

When he starts growing like a real boy? Horrible. Creepy. They don’t like it one bit. He’s acting too human, he’s making them think he’s real.

When he starts hanging out with their sidekicks? Nope. They all try to put a stop to it. The sidekicks all disobey them with a roll of their eyes. Then he becomes the leader of their little group, calling themselves the Titans? Oh God, he must be starting some sort of army.

Then a new Robin appears, and they all meet Nightwing, but they have no idea Nightwing used to be Robin. So when Nightwing becomes a member of the JL, they don’t think twice about him. They think Nightwing is a great guy. Very open. Very friendly. They all consider him a good friend.

Then it comes out after a few months that he used to be Robin, and all the original JL members practically squeak and distance themselves from him immediately. They’re terrified of him.

“You’re the little demon that bit me?” Hal shrieks.

Nightwing laughs, but he’s shrugging and looking so sheepish, so embarrassed.

“You were being mean to my dad!”

And the fact that Batman is Nightwing’s dad just makes them all freeze. Because they never actually considered that an option.

They’re still convinced he’s not entirely human, though. It would explain how he’s so flippy and bendy.

Dick has way too much fun when he realizes they actually think he’s not a human. He torments them just a little bit, in retaliation. Bruce watches from afar, both annoyed with his coworkers and amused by his son’s antics.

[max-nicoxfandom]

DCXDP crossover where Danny ends up adopted by the bats for one reason or another, and they all know about his ghost powers/vigilantism but not the extent of it.

So one day they're all out patrolling Gotham, and one of Danny's rogues comes out, specifically one that's screaming about wearing his pelt on his wall. The bats go into protect mode obvs and scoop up Danny to try and shield him from this evil green glowy guy, only for Danny to flail around like a feral cat.

He's in Batman's arms like; "put me down, PUt mE dOwn, PUT ME DOWN, PUT ME DOWN!!"

and he bolts out of his arms to go and fight this guy and they are both absolutely feral! Biting and scratching and wailing, and just a whole bunch of freaky paranormal shit. To the bats this is the most desperate and destructive looking fight they've ever seen and they have no clue how to help. To Danny? The complete opposite.

In Danny's POV the whole interaction was completely friendly!

Skulker: Come out here, Phantom ! Come fight me so I can use your organs to build my throne !

Danny's vision: hey ghost boy 🥺🩷 let's go play outside 🥺🥺 plleeaaaseeee my mom said I can be out till the streetlights go off 🥺🥺

Danny: B you need to put me down !! Now !! I gotta go please ! Please !! You don't- you have to-- stop!! You don't understand, put me down!!"

Danny's vision: dad I wanna play too 🥺🥺 I'll be good I promise 🥺

The bats are obviously freaking out. They can't touch this guy and Danny is fighting for his afterlife ! Why can't they do anything ! Why are they so useless ??

After the fight Danny soups Skulker and descends back down to the bats. To them he looks beat. He looks scared. He's shaking now that he's back in B's arms, his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, but his pupils are still blown wide. They're all practically sick over him.

Meanwhile Danny is coming down from the equivalent of a sugar high or ghost zoomies. All that adrenaline is still coursing through his body making him shake, and the ghost fight after not facing a formidable opponent in a while, plus not having access to pure ecto like he had in Amity has left him sleepy.

He falls asleep in Batman's arms, making the bats think he passed out. When he detransforms in his sleep ? Oh, he must practically be dying again rn.

He wakes up in medbay confused. He just had the most fun he had in months. Why the fuck is he here ???

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴏᴄᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

It all started with a vending machine.

You weren’t expecting anything special that day. Just wanted a drink — that was all. But, naturally, the vending machine had other plans.

You pressed the button again. Nothing. Slammed it with your palm. Still nothing. Your expression remained blank as your drink taunted you from behind the glass, unmoving.

That’s when he showed up.

Matthew, the school’s golden boy jock. Towering, broad-shouldered, blonde hair tousled in a way that screamed accidental perfection.

He was just passing by with his duffel bag over one shoulder, phone in hand, barely sparing you a glance — until you smacked the machine again.

With a slight frown, he walked over and, without saying a word, shoved the entire vending machine with a grunt.

Your drink fell.

He grinned, wiped his hands like he’d just saved the world, and handed it to you. “Here you go.”

You blinked. “Thanks.”

He gave a nod and walked off again. Just like that. You figured he was just being helpful — a friendly face with no real intention. And for the most part, you were right.

But that changed.

A week later, Matthew got relocated in art class — punishment for being too loud, too distracting with his rowdy jock buddies at the back. The teacher pointed to the empty seat beside you, and he slumped down with a dramatic groan.

At first, he didn’t care. He didn’t even notice you. His attention was elsewhere — doodling stick figures, sighing loudly, tapping his pencil until the teacher yelled at him again.

But then… he started watching you.

Maybe it was the way you zoned into your work, eyes half-lidded with focus as you brushed over canvas, hands stained with charcoal and pigment.

Or maybe it was your laugh when you talked with your friends sitting on your other side — loud enough to hear, but never aimed at him. You didn’t even look at him most of the time. And that did something to him.

He tried small things first.

“You always draw with your wrist bent like that?”

You didn’t answer.

“Is that… a skull with flowers coming out of it? That’s kinda cool.”

You gave a small nod.

That should’ve been the end.

But Matthew wasn’t used to being ignored. He wasn’t used to not being wanted — everyone liked him. Teachers, students, girls, underclassmen, even the janitor smiled at him. But you? You didn’t flinch. Didn’t melt. Didn’t even seem interested.

And that’s when something snapped inside him.

yan jock whose obsession started gradually. Harmless, even.

He would bring snacks to class, placing one quietly on the edge of your desk without looking at you — even though he picked your favorite flavor every time.

He'd hover near your locker, pretending he just happened to be walking by... again. He lingered near your friend group between classes, hoping you'd acknowledge him.

You didn’t.

You were too focused on your friends, too caught up in your own world to even notice how often he watched you now.

His eyes followed you across the courtyard. His steps subconsciously matched yours in the hallways.

When you got sick for a day, he didn’t show up to practice, texting his coach he “ate bad chicken” — but he was outside your house instead, pacing, trying to build the courage to knock just to check on you.

Your indifference drove him insane.

He started turning down party invites. Stopped flirting with the pretty girls who batted their lashes and wore his jersey.

He didn’t care anymore. He only wanted you. No matter how many people wanted him — you were the one person who didn’t, and that made you the only one who mattered.

He’d find himself staring at your desk even when you weren’t in class, tracing the rings left by your water bottle, the little smudges of ink, wondering what your hands had been writing.

yan jock who even stopped hanging out with his friends.

At first, his friends didn’t believe it. “Matt, you’re seriously ditching us again?”

“Bro, it’s just one hangout. You always come to Tony’s on Thursdays.”

“There’s gonna be girls.”

Matthew barely blinked, pulling his hoodie over his head, already walking away. “Yeah, nah. I got stuff to do”

“Stuff” meant stalking you.

He didn’t care how confused or bitter his teammates got. The once-devoted quarterback who used to host parties and show off his roster of flings now disappeared like a ghost — his time swallowed entirely by you.

Every spare second was about you. Thinking about you. Looking for you. Being near you. The girls who used to sit on his lap or flirt after games barely got a glance anymore.

Some tried harder—shorter skirts, longer lashes, louder laughs—but he’d just brush past, muttering something like, “Not interested.”

Because they weren’t you.

They didn’t roll their eyes at him with that flat, unimpressed stare. They didn’t challenge him or push him away or leave him wondering what you were thinking every time you gave him a one-word answer.

They weren’t his favorite person in the entire damn world.

And somehow, soon enough, you started talking to him more. Not much at first. Just a few dry comments during art class.

A low “pass me that brush” or “your drawing sucks” without looking at him.

But Matthew took it personally — in the best way. You noticed him. He started using it as a chance to pull conversations out of you like loose threads.

“Sucks? Please, this is a masterpiece. That’s definitely a dog and not a horse.”

You snorted. “Looks like it got hit by a bus.”

He beamed, like he’d just won the lottery. You talked to him. You laughed. You didn’t shove him off your desk that day when he leaned closer.

Every scrap of attention from you made his whole week. Soon, he was completely attached. Emotionally dependent, even. A walking, talking golden retriever in human form who wagged his metaphorical tail every time you so much as glanced his way.

He became sensitive about everything involving you — if you ignored him too long, he’d go quiet and pouty. If he thought you were upset, he’d panic, buying you things until he saw a flicker of a smile.

yan jock who hated your friends. He wouldn’t say it directly, but he’d glance at them with narrowed eyes whenever they came around during class or lunch.

They were obstacles, stealing your attention. Cutting into his time. He’d scoot his chair a little closer, lean in more, start conversations just to make your friends roll their eyes and drift away.

And if you noticed and called him out? “What? I just wanna talk to you. You’re more fun anyway,” he’d shrug, feigning innocence — but deep down, he wanted you alone.

All the time. In his head, you didn’t need anyone else. You had him.

And when he started hanging out with you after school? That was heaven for him. It started with casual excuses.

“Hey, I can drive you home. I’m heading that way anyway.”

“I can carry your art project—looks heavy.”

“You hungry? I was thinking of grabbing food. Wanna come?”

You said yes once, maybe out of pity, or maybe because you were tired of his constant hovering. But the second you did, it became routine.

He waited for you after the final bell, standing by your locker like a lovesick puppy, always holding something — your drink, your favorite candy, that one sweater he noticed you kept looking at online but never bought.

yan jock who was rich, and he never hesitated to use it. Anything you vaguely wanted? He got it for you. That one book that was sold out? He paid triple online game console you offhandedly mentioned you never got around to buying?

It was wrapped and in your backpack the next day. And honestly… it started wearing you down.

You still found him clingy, kind of dumb, always in your space. But… he was helpful. And oddly sweet. And the way his whole face lit up when you said “thanks” made you feel guilty if you didn’t at least acknowledge him.

So you started talking to him more. Not just in class. But after school. Texts. Small conversations. He’d walk you to the bus stop, or drive you himself when it rained, even if it meant missing practice.

You’d sigh and let him trail after you like the lovesick puppy he was, head tilted with hopeful eyes, just waiting for you to speak.

Eventually, you admitted it to yourself. You didn’t mind having him around, maybe he could be a friend, he was your friend. (In your mind, at least.)

But to Matthew? You were everything. His sun, moon, and stars. His reason to wake up, to breathe, to exist.

The idea of anyone else getting close to you made his stomach twist. His possessiveness only grew stronger every time you laughed at his jokes or leaned on him during a late night drive or accepted one of his overpriced gifts.

And when you finally called him your friend?He smiled.

But in the deepest part of him, behind that golden grin, he whispered silently to himself:

“Not for long.”

Because friends? Friends could be replaced.

But soulmates?

You only get one.

And he was convinced he was your soulmate for eternity, in every life.

HOPE U ENJOYED!! :3

[moondustbaby]

Mine

blue collar!Rafe x sahm!Reader

a/n: based on this request! 💌

summary: When you and Rafe are called in for parent-teacher conferences at jace’s school, you expect to talk finger paints and reading levels—not watch his overly friendly kindergarten teacher openly flirt with your husband. But lucky for her, you’re a patient woman. lucky for you, Rafe knows exactly who he belongs to.

⸻

Jace’s kindergarten classroom smells like glue sticks and apple juice, and the tiny plastic chairs dig into the backs of your knees as you shift uncomfortably in one of them. Rafe’s beside you, looking wildly out of place in his dusty jeans and a navy tee that still has faint paint streaks across the chest. He’d come straight from a job site, boots scuffed and skin golden from the sun, and when he sat down beside you, his hand naturally rested on your thigh, grounding you like always.

But the teacher hasn’t looked at you once.

“Mr. Cameron” she says for the third time, practically purring it now, “It’s just so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Jace.”

You blink. You’re right here.

“I’m his mom,” you offer with a polite smile, trying not to sound annoyed even though it’s starting to bubble up. “We’ve met before.”

“Oh, right, of course,” she says airily, eyes already back on Rafe. “But it’s so sweet—he talks about how his dad builds houses. That must be so rewarding.”

Rafe shifts a little in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s a lot of hours,” he says, glancing over at you like he knows. “But worth it.”

“Well, you must be so strong,” she laughs, touching her own arm like she’s imagining what his biceps feel like. “It’s just amazing what you do.”

You’re seconds away from launching yourself across the small table.

Rafe gives you a sideways look, a small twitch of his lips like he’s holding back a laugh, but you can tell by the way his hand tightens on your leg that he’s noticed it too.

You lean forward, smile sugary sweet. “He’s got strong arms and strong hands,” you say, resting your hand over his and threading your fingers through his. “Especially when he’s taking care of the kids so I can rest. You know—real husband stuff.”

The teacher’s smile wavers.

“Oh, of course,” she says. “Well—um—Jace is doing great. He’s a real sweetheart.”

“He gets that from his dad,” you say, batting your lashes at Rafe. “Except when someone crosses the line. Then he’s real protective.”

Rafe lets out a low breath that might be a laugh and finally turns his attention to the teacher. “We good with Jace, then? No issues?”

“None,” she says, flustered now, flipping through her notes. “He’s doing great. Just keep reading with him at home.”

You stand first, squeezing Rafe’s hand and helping him up, and he towers over both of you in his work boots, broad and golden and so clearly yours. You reach for his arm and give him a lingering look as he thanks the teacher, and you don’t miss the way she watches him as he walks out.

Once you’re in the hallway, Rafe leans close.

“You were gonna bite her head off,” he murmurs, clearly amused.

“I was gonna do worse,” you mutter, crossing your arms as you walk toward the front office. “She didn’t even see me.”

“She definitely saw you. Just didn’t know what she was messin’ with.”

“She was flirting with you.”

“I know.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but he’s got that smug, crooked smile that makes your heart skip even when he’s being a little shit.

“You think this is funny?” you say.

“I think it’s hot when you get jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you lie, scowling now. “I was territorial.”

He laughs, then pulls you in by the waist, pressing you up against the hallway wall where no one can see. You yelp, more in shock than anything else.

“Rafe—”

“She kept starin’ at me like she wanted to take me home,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “But you’re the one who gets to take me home. You’re the one who knows what these hands feel like when I’m not buildin’ houses.”

Your breath hitches.

“She doesn’t know what I sound like when I’m beggin’ you to let me come,” he says, rough and low now. “She doesn’t know how many times I’ve come home covered in dirt and dropped to my knees for you first thing, because I missed you too much.”

You swallow, fingers fisting in the front of his shirt. His jaw brushes yours.

“She doesn’t know I make you breakfast every Sunday. Or rub your back when you fall asleep on the couch. Or that I cry every time the kids bring home their little macaroni art projects and tell me they made ‘em for me.”

Now your eyes are stinging.

“She doesn’t know,” he says again, voice soft. “But you do.”

You nod slowly, heart beating out of your chest. His words always hit you like a truck tender and feral at the same time. And maybe the teacher had looked at him like she wanted him, but she’d never have him. Not like you did.

“You’re mine,” you whisper.

“Always.”

And he kisses you there in the hallway like it’s a promise.

༶⋆｡ﾟ☽✿⋆˚✧✿☾ﾟ｡⋆༶

a/n: this fic is brought to you by passive aggressive eye contact, smug blue-collar husband energy, and tiny kindergarten chairs that are not meant for full-grown people. anyway. protect your man and maybe kiss him in the hallway. academic excellence starts at home. thank you for the request!! 🤩

♥️ lani

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@lolabunnyworldss @superlegend216 @bonjourjiminie @rafesbabygirlx

[rosemaryhoney27]

Danny Needs a Girlfriend Part 3

The burger was gone in three bites. Cass was efficient like that.

Danny, still not entirely sure if he was dreaming or just hallucinating due to ghost-core burnout, watched her from the corner of his eye.

“So, uh… just for my own peace of mind,” he began cautiously, “did Dani bribe you into this? Or threaten you? She's very persuasive when she wants to be. Once convinced Vlad to dress up as a clown for a week. I still have the blackmail footage.”

Cass tilted her head, then gave a small shake. “No threats. No bribes.”

Danny blinked. “Wait… you volunteered to come find me?”

Another small nod.

He stared at her, baffled. “Do you know what dating me would even look like?”

Cass shrugged.

“I’m serious! There’s ghost attacks, and people screaming in Latin, and my room’s a disaster, and I talk to dead people sometimes—like, friendly dead people, but still. I’m basically radioactive Spider-Man with extra trauma and a thermos collection.”

Cass took a moment. Then pointed at herself.

“Trained assassin,” she said softly.

Danny paused. “Touché.”

Cass smiled. The kind that barely tugged at the corners of her lips but felt like a full grin.

Then she said, “Ghosts are honest. More than people.”

Danny’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s… yeah. Actually, yeah.”

They sat in silence for a bit. Not awkward. Just quiet. The kind of quiet Danny didn’t get to enjoy often.

Then Cass turned slightly toward him.

“You saved people,” she said. “Alone.”

Danny shrugged, cheeks turning a little pink. “Had to. No one else was going to. And, well… I died for the first time because of my parents' lab accident, so it kind of felt like—my responsibility? You know?”

She nodded slowly.

“I see you,” she said. “I like what I see.”

Danny blinked, dumbfounded. “Wow. You, uh—don’t mess around, do you?”

Cass just shrugged, like duh.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m not saying no. You're… kind of amazing. And gorgeous. And scary in a cool way. Just… I don’t want you to think I’m some tragic half-dead boy project.”

“You’re not,” Cass said instantly. “You’re just… Danny.”

He looked at her for a long moment. Then, softly: “You really do see people, huh?”

Cass didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

From the rooftop across the street, Dani was lying on her stomach, binoculars in one hand, Fenton phone in the other.

“Tucker, Tucker, he shared his burger. That’s practically ghost proposal level. And she didn’t even flinch when he mentioned the thermos thing!”

“Dani,” Tucker said, voice dry through the phone, “have you considered giving them privacy?”

“I gave him a girlfriend. He’ll forgive me.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I learned from the best.”

Back on the rooftop, Danny and Cass were now sharing ghost stories. Literally.

“She said she’d haunt my locker if I didn’t return her grandma’s locket,” Danny was saying. “So I tried to give it back, but it turned out she wanted me to keep it as a fashion upgrade. I don’t even wear jewelry. Except for this one time when—”

Cass leaned her head on his shoulder mid-sentence.

Danny froze.

Then melted.

“…Okay. Yeah. I’m not gonna fight this.”

He leaned back against her gently, and for the first time in a while, the world felt… quiet.

Peaceful.

Even with Gotham below and ghosts above, something about this moment just fit.

And in the back of his mind, Danny made a mental note:

Step One: Thank Dani. Step Two: Hide every embarrassing baby photo she tries to show Cass. Step Three: Learn how to make better grilled cheese.

He had a feeling he was going to need it.

Operation: Ghost Bat Romance Status: In Progress. Success Probability: 100%. Next Mission: Convince Batman not to kill him.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Flavors of Rivalry, ft. STAYC Isa

tags: creampie, (a hint of) breeding

length: 15k

author's note: That's the poll completed: three fics featuring three idols.

---

"Through here, sir."

Minjun nods, heading through the suggested door with urgency. His head is held high, his steps are quick, his gaze sharp. Moving through the sea of people and weaving through the bodies swiftly, his eyes sweep over faces, assessing—perhaps judging. His sharp gaze eventually lands on a woman in a tidy blazer, surrounded by others in matching attire. Minjun’s eyebrow rises, his lips curving into a demeaning smirk. "Azure." The name alone tastes like cheap, fleeting trends on his tongue, a company synonymous with a lack of tradition, of principles. The pin glinting on her blazer confirms it, and a knowing amusement flickers in his eyes. “Daddy's girl is here, huh?”

Minjun legs lock, his heels clacking loudly as he stops, and his escorting group stops behind him. Sensing the shifting tensions, the people from Azure cut their chatter, turning around slowly, as if physically bracing to face the big daddy of the industry. “Hi there,” he greets them dryly, his voice nearly completely devoid of respect. “Welcome to The Flavors Expo, ladies and gents.” They exchange glances, unsure of what to say to the man wearing a golden leaf pin. Eventually, a woman—the daddy’s girl, the heiress—emerges, facing Minjun with an unwavering resolve. “The Azure Taste Limited is humbled to be here,” she says, a calm, confident smile decorating her face, not a single tremor in her voice.

A ripple of hushed whispers spreads through the nearby booths. Seasoned industry veterans exchange knowing glances. This isn't just a polite introduction; it's the opening salvo in what promises to be a very public and very personal war. No one dares to intervene, mesmerized by the clash of two young, formidable wills. The air in the expo hall, already thick with the scent of competing flavors, suddenly crackles with raw, undiluted tension.

The woman extends an open hand, holding onto her coffee with the other. “My name is Lee Chaeyoung. May I ask what yours is?” Minjun’s expressions soften, not wanting to look too hostile right off the bat. “Park Minjun. Golden Leaf International,” he introduces himself, shaking her hand firmly, perhaps a fraction longer than strictly necessary. “Mister Park Minjun,” she echoes, the name instantly solidifying in her mind as both a benchmark and a formidable obstacle. “Would you like to have a sample, Mister Park?” He smiles, stifling a chuckle from leaving his lips, almost disgusted at the idea of having a taste of Azure’s flavor—but he must play nice, at least for now. “That would be amazing. What do you have?” he asks, carefully building a façade of friendliness.

Chaeyoung leads him towards a table lined with pre-filled pods, each one filled to the brim with her company’s flavors. “These are the fruity ones,” she traces a line over a row of bright-colored pods, “and those are our creamy ones. Please, have a taste.” Being a fan of dessert-like flavors, Minjun reaches for one labeled simply as caramel. He then takes a long puff, closing his eyes as the rich, buttery sweetness washes over his tongue, perfectly balanced and utterly familiar. For a fleeting moment, a sense of pure, unadulterated pleasure fills him, a recognition of true mastery—and his stomach twists with unease. It’s more than a passing feeling, though; it’s a jolt of alarm. Azure’s caramel tastes not just similar, but nearly identical to Golden Leaf’s top-selling Salted Silk.

Minjun's eyes snap open, the pleasant haze from the flavor vanishing. Pulling the pod away, his fingers tighten around it. A flicker of raw surprise, quickly masked, crosses his face. Chaeyoung, watching closely, catches the fleeting shadow that crosses his features before his practiced mask slides into place. He clears his throat as the last bit of cloud leaves his lips, offering Chaeyoung a tight, almost forced smile. "Remarkable," he states, the single word carefully neutral, but his mind is already a whirlwind of questions. How did they get so close? Is this a coincidence, a direct challenge, or worse, a leaked secret?

“This caramel blend of yours has quite the depth to it,” he continues, holding up the pod for a moment, “say, Miss Lee, what was your inspiration for this?” Chaeyoung looks away for a moment, hiding her satisfied grin behind the curtain of her hair. “I've always had a particular fondness for well-crafted caramel notes,” she confesses, her voice tinged with excitement. “And our team drew from a wide array of top-tier references when developing this blend.”

Minjun keeps his eyes on her. “References, huh? Like Salted Silk?” he wonders to himself, the words burning like an accusation in his mind, accusing her of copying the result of his team’s hard work. Cutting short the interaction, he takes a deliberate step back, putting distance between himself and the booth, even as he offers her a pair of curt, almost dismissive nods. “I think your R&D team deserves a pat on the back, Miss Lee.” Chaeyoung's hand comes up as she chuckles, covering her mouth in a gesture that is both demure and subtly triumphant, fitting for an heiress of an evolving empire. Even if he perceives it as built on shaky grounds—a new brand standing on no tradition, trying to make a name for themselves—Azure can still pose a threat, and emperors like the Golden Leaf don’t like threats.

Minjun turns abruptly, signaling his escort with a sharp gesture. "We have a meeting with the Chamber of Commerce in five minutes," he states, his voice low and clipped, devoid of the earlier feigned pleasantries. Walking away, his gaze flicks back to Chaeyoung and the Azure booth one last time, the image of that perfectly replicated caramel flavor burning behind his eyes. This isn't just competition; it's an insult to the throne.

-

The initial jolt of alarm from The Flavors Expo morphs into a cold, hard resolve for Minjun. He dedicates the next few weeks to dissecting Azure's market entry, commissioning detailed reports on their supply chain, their patent filings, and even their recruitment strategies. The sheer audacity of their caramel clone still chafes. Golden Leaf's legal team is put on high alert, meticulously reviewing every flavor profile, every branding choice for potential infringement or reverse-engineering tactics. Minjun isn't interested in a public skirmish; he's mapping out a strategic blockade, finding every possible leverage point to corner Azure before they can truly establish a foothold.

“Mr. Park, sir,” a manager calls to him, his gaze darting around the room, his fingers fiddling with his pen as he speaks. “May I suggest hiring some private investigators to look into this?” Minjun exhales, leaning back in his sleek, leather-wrapped chair, the vapor cloud of Salted Silk hovering over his head, a cold reminder of Azure’s brazen challenge. "Keep talking, Mr. Shin," Minjun says, his voice a low rumble. “Sir, we have a reason to believe there might have been a breach,” Mr. Shin replies, his voice gaining a nervous confidence. “There is no way anyone could make something this similar to our stuff without someone leaking the development recipe.”

Minjun’s sharp gaze stays locked on the manager, taking another puff of Salted Silk as he considers the idea. “Does anyone else have another idea, because I don’t see any other way?” he asks the other managers who remain glued to their seats, their faces carefully blank, unwilling to risk suggesting a flawed alternative and igniting the wrath of the big boss. A heavy silence fills the room, broken only by the hum of the air conditioning. "No?" Minjun's voice drops, a dangerous edge to it. "Well, ain't that disappointing." He points his vape pod at Mr. Shin. “Can you assure me that your investigators can be discreet?” Mr. Shin nods slowly, understanding the weight behind his question. “Certainly, sir. They operate outside the usual corporate channels, thus minimizing direct risk to Golden Leaf's reputation.”

Minjun abruptly rises from his seat, slamming the pod onto the table. “This,” he points at it, “is a fucking insult to us.” His fiery gaze scans the faces of the managers before him, each person not daring to look back at him. “I expect everyone to do their part in finding the root of this. You're dismissed—and please excuse my language.”

One person after the other leaves, and as Mr. Shin prepares to join his fellow managers, Minjun grabs his wrist, his fingers wrapped firmly around the sleeve of his suit. “Get me Lee Chaeyoung’s number, Mr. Shin,” he demands. The man simply nods, knowing better than to ask twice, already thinking of ways to get what the boss wants. “By the way,” he continues, “make sure security always checks everyone when they enter and leave the building. Refusing to comply will result in immediate dismissal.”

Settling back in his seat, Minjun pulls out another pod from his pocket: Tiramisu Twist. He grips the pod hard, imagining what it would be like if someone were to clone this flavor. The one he created with his own hands, back when he was serving as the Head of R&D under his father. The one he spent countless hours perfecting until it was deemed good enough for the big boss. The one he keeps coming back to whenever he yearns for comfort.

“Clone this, and I’ll burn Azure myself, Lee Chaeyoung,” he murmurs, staring right into the empty seat across from him, imagining Chaeyoung sitting in it—just the image of her grin makes him hot. He takes a slow, deep puff of the Tiramisu Twist, basking in the gentle sweetness covering his tongue, the slight hint of bitterness the perfect closing note of the flavor. “No one gets to insult the Golden Leaf, and definitely not a company without tradition like yours.”

-

The scorching heat of summer has now been replaced by the calm, more soothing breeze of autumn. The heat in Minjun’s heart is still as fiery as before, though. If anything, it's burning even hotter; the confidential report, detailing how one of his R&D personnel stole Salted Silk's base formula and sent it to competitors, lies scrambled on his desk. It ignites the beast sleeping in his chest.

The report's findings replay in his head: "Former R&D Lead, Kim Dongho, terminated due to insubordination, accepted a position with Azure two weeks prior to their 'Caramel' launch." The name burns. Minjun doesn’t say a word, his gaze drifting out of the window of his office. This is him; mild irritation will make him run his mouth, but one that is deeper, heavier will stifle it. The silence stretches long, only broken by the sound of his pod’s puffs. He was hoping that the chilling sensation of menthol from this Watermelon Whirl could help his mind relax, but it doesn’t feel like it at the moment.

A fleeting image flashes through Minjun's mind: Kim Dongho, years ago, a bright-eyed, eager R&D intern, nervously presenting a flavor concept. Minjun had mentored him, seen his potential, trusted him. The betrayal cuts deeper than any corporate espionage; it's a personal wound. “What happened, Dongho-yah? Is this about that second-grade mango I told you to make, the one you had come up with—we didn’t have the materials for that, though,” he mumbles, wondering what could have made Dongho to stab him in the back.

He shakes his head, dispelling the ghost of the past. The lingering phantom taste of second-grade mango fades, replaced by the bitter tang of betrayal. "It doesn't matter," Minjun mutters, his voice devoid of emotion. What matters is the present. What matters is the enemy now holding a piece of him. He pulls out his phone, the screen already illuminated with Lee Chaeyoung’s contact, courtesy of Mr. Shin.

Minjun presses the call button, closing his eyes as he waits for her to pick up, taking another long puff for good luck. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. “That’s brave,” he thinks quickly; CEOs don’t usually pick up calls from unknown numbers. “Good morning, Miss Lee,” he greets her, his voice flat and controlled. “Good morning. Is this Mr. Park Minjun from Golden Leaf?” she asks, her voice calm, almost too calm, without a hint of surprise.

Minjun’s eyebrows furrow, but his voice remains flat, staying solid. "Indeed it is, Miss Lee," he replies, his gaze fixed on the cityscape outside his window. "I'm calling about that caramel flavor you were showcasing at The Flavors Expo." He pauses, stringing together a sentence to continue. “I won’t waste your time, Miss Lee, so let me ask you this: did you or did you not receive the development recipe for Salted Silk from a certain Kim Dongho?”

A beat of silence, heavy with unspoken tension, stretches across the line, each side trying to be one step ahead of the other. “Mr. Park,” she replies, her calm voice suddenly carrying a sharp edge. “I’m not sure what gives you the idea that Dongho-oppa gave Azure any development recipe.” Minjun’s eyes blink rapidly, and soon, his lips stretch into a smirk—he’s caught her lacking.

“Dongho-oppa, hey? Is that what you call him over there?” he taunts, keeping his voice controlled despite the urge to burst out laughing. "A cute nickname for a corporate spy, wouldn't you say, Miss Lee?" He pauses, letting the silence twist. "Here's what's going to happen. You can either cooperate with our investigation into your... acquisition of our intellectual property, or Golden Leaf International will make sure the name of Azure Taste Limited becomes synonymous with corporate theft. Your choice, Miss Lee. Oh, and I don’t give a piss about Kim Dongho,” he adds, his fingers gripping his phone hard, a testament to the fire in his heart.

The line hums with the weight of Minjun's ultimatum. For a long moment, Chaeyoung says nothing, her breath catching. Then, her voice, though strained, comes back with surprising force. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Park," she states, the sharp edge now a hardened blade. "Azure Taste Limited operates with the highest ethical standards. We have nothing to cooperate with, and we will defend our reputation vigorously against any baseless accusations. Good day." The click of her phone hanging up slices through the silence.

His grip on the phone tightens until his knuckles whiten, but he quickly relents; she’s hung up anyway. "Fool," he mutters, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He expects a fight, but not a surrender. “Oh, Lee Chaeyoung, surely you’re not this stupid.” Minjun shakes his head, amusement growing in the midst of frustration. “Time to get some lawyers, I guess.” He doesn't waste another second. His thumb flies across his phone screen, dialing his head of legal. "Get a cease-and-desist order drafted for Azure Taste Limited, immediately," he barks, his voice now devoid of any pretense. "And prepare for a full intellectual property lawsuit. I want every single breach documented, every piece of evidence ready. We’re going to war, Mr. Oh."

Within hours, Golden Leaf International's legal department becomes a whirlwind of activity. Mr. Oh, a veteran of countless corporate skirmishes, mobilizes his team, their faces grim but determined. Cease-and-desist letters are drafted, injunctions prepared, and evidence files on Kim Dongho's employment, his proven breach of contract, and subsequent actions meticulously compiled. Minjun leans back in his chair, still looking out the window, taking puffs of Watermelon Whirl while his legal machine churns. This isn't about winning money; it's about making a statement, about crippling Azure and sending a message to anyone else who dares to challenge his empire.

Soon, the legal whispers quickly become industry-wide murmurs. News of Golden Leaf International's aggressive legal maneuvers against Azure Taste Ltd. spreads like wildfire through trade publications and discreet industry forums. Other CEOs, old heads and new bloomers alike, lean back in their chairs, a mix of apprehension and schadenfreude on their faces. The big daddy is making an example out of Azure, and everyone knows it. The question isn't if it will fall, but how hard.

Days later, a thick, official-looking envelope arrives at Azure Taste headquarters, delivered by a grim-faced courier. Chaeyoung reads the cease-and-desist order, her fingers tightening around the heavy paper. The accusations are damning: intellectual property theft, corporate espionage, and a specific mention of Kim Dongho. Her calm facade, usually so impenetrable, wavers. This isn't just a threat; it's a declaration of open war, designed to crush Azure before it can truly bloom.

Later that day, in a tense, closed-door meeting at Azure Taste headquarters, Chaeyoung sits across from Kim Dongho, the cease-and-desist letter spread between them like a battle map. Dongho avoids her gaze, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a sullen silence. Chaeyoung's voice is low, strained with barely controlled anger. "Dongho-oppa," she begins, the informal address cutting through the heavy air. "The Golden Leaf just accused you of stealing his company's formula and giving it to us. What exactly is going on?”

Dongho sighs, taking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead, as if trying to wipe the stress away. “I had a feeling this day would come,” he mutters, his voice carrying defeat. “Okay, I’ll confess: I did steal GLI’s intellectual property.” The room falls into a deafening silence, executives trading glances with each other, stunned by such a grave revelation. Leaning back in her chair, Chaeyoung's breath catches in her throat, her initial anger replaced with disbelief. “But this flavor—this blend of caramel—is mine,” he continues, his voice rising in a desperate attempt for understanding. “I made this with my own hands, back when I was with Golden Leaf.”

Chaeyoung closes her eyes, stopping the tears from falling out. She takes a few seconds of silence, her heart aching—perhaps even bleeding—at Dongho’s actions. “If… if it's yours, then how did you ‘steal’ it, oppa?” she asks, her voice shaking slightly. Dongho opens his mouth, a protest or an explanation forming in his mind, but her fist slamming on the table interrupts him. “Do you know how bad this is, Kim Dongho, to get in a fight with Golden Leaf?” Chaeyoung presses on, her glassy eyes a proof of her hurt. “And the worst part is, we're not even trading blows,” she ends, the weight of the IP theft crushing down on her.

The head of legal, who has been watching the exchange with growing alarm, clears his throat, shifting the attention to him. “Miss Lee,” he begins, carefully stringing words together in his head. “I understand your frustrations, but we need facts.” He glances to his left, at Dongho; he doesn't look like he's in the right mind, but legal is about facts over feelings. “Mr. Kim, can you please elaborate on why you decided to… take GLI’s IP here?” he asks, his tone controlled.

Dongho takes a shaky breath, his hand running through his disheveled hair. Not daring to look at his CEO, he turns his gaze to the head of legal. “Okay, you want facts, right, so here they are,” he starts, formulating a defense. “I was the one initially tasked with coming up with the recipe for this caramel flavor. I've done many revisions on the recipe under the directions of Park Minjun and his father. Eventually, we arrived at a roadblock: one of the key materials was a substance that's restricted in this country, but the Parks insisted that we had to use that material, saying that I was a coward for not trying to slither through the holes in regulations.”

The room falls silent once more; this is quite a revelation from Dongho. The idea that Golden Leaf is possibly using restricted chemicals to make their caramel can shake the grounds upon which the giant is standing. Should the giant fall, a race to take the top spot is guaranteed to happen.

“A restricted substance, Mr. Kim?” the head of legal presses, his ears imperceptibly perking up like an excited puppy. “That's… quite the bold accusation you're making.” Dongho sighs deeply, slightly regretful of having to resort to such a level of whistleblowing. “I think… I think they have managed to lobby legislators to lift the restriction, though,” he continues, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. Borrowing a pen from the head of sales next to him, Dongho writes the name of the substance—something that sounds like a magic spell to outsiders—on a piece of paper. “Here's the name. You might want to confirm it yourself.”

Chaeyoung takes a slow, deep breath, steadying herself. The room feels charged, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. She looks at her legal head, then to Dongho, a cold, fierce glint in her eyes. "Verify everything, Mr. Jeon," she commands, her voice unwavering. "I want us to hit back, and we can’t do that without a solid ground to back our claims." The head of legal nods firmly, tucking Dongho’s small note in his pocket. “We will get back to you soon, Miss Lee. We will definitely hit back,” he offers an assurance to the CEO.

They leave one by one, heading out her office in a line, and here Chaeyoung is, sitting alone in her office. She leaves the conference desk and sits on her desk, grabbing a pod of Red Apple—this flavor is an original, by the way; she commissioned it to her RND  team last year. She takes a long puff, letting the apple’s sweetness and the subtle cool from the menthol fill her mouth. “Still not perfect, but this will do,” she mutters to herself, taking a small, personal victory amidst the chaos.

-

A ding from her computer, signaling an incoming email, steals her attention. Her eyebrows furrow as she skims through the content; an invite to visit Golden Leaf International, a stark contradiction to the legal threats she had just received. Attached to the body is a handwritten letter, signed by Park Minjun himself. “Wait, what? What the hell is this?” she whispers, the unexpected invitation throwing a fresh curveball into her escalating war with Minjun.

Chaeyoung's hand hovers over the attachment icon. Despite the logical urge to consult Mr. Jeon, her professional curiosity, combined with a potent dose of defiance, wins out. With a swift click, the handwritten letter unfolds on her screen. Minjun's elegant, precise script fills the page, a stark contrast to his recent verbal barrage. The message is brief, yet potent, a single line requesting her presence at his corporate headquarters for a 'private discussion,’ leaving her with more questions than answers “Alright, I’ll bite,” she grabs her phone, calling her driver, “please prepare the car. We’re going to Golden Leaf for… a friendly visit.”

The sleek Continental glides through the city's bustling streets, but inside, Chaeyoung's mind races. She takes another puff of Red Apple, the flavor doing little to soothe her nerves. This is Minjun's territory, his fortress where his throne sits. Is this a trap? A calculated intimidation tactic, or does he genuinely believe he has something that will make her surrender? She presses her lips into a thin line, straightening her jacket. Whatever it is, she won't show weakness; Azure’s future lies in her hands, and if she’s truly to take them to the top, there is no room for hesitation.

Her car pulls silently into Golden Leaf International's sprawling underground parking, a sterile, brightly lit cavern that feels like the belly of the beast. Chaeyoung steps out, her heels clicking crisply on the concrete. The elevator ride to the executive floors is swift and silent, amplifying the sense of anticipation. When the doors finally part, a stern-faced security guard—a woman, Chaeyoung notes—stands waiting, a tablet in hand. "Miss Lee Chaeyoung?" she asks, her voice flat, clearly expecting her. This isn't a welcome; it's processing. “Can you please empty your pockets on the table?”

Chaeyoung moves to the side, her lips tightening as she fishes things out of her pockets and leaving them scattered on the table. “Your phone, please,” the guard adds, opening her palm to receive it. With a sigh, she pulls her phone out of her rear pocket, handing it over to be kept in a small safe. “Do you want my bra too, perhaps?” she teases the guard, her irritation lying beneath the sarcasm in her voice. The guard's expression doesn't flicker, her eyes staying cold and unreadable. Without breaking eye contact, her hand moves, with practiced efficiency, to her radio. “Miss Lee Chaeyoung is clear. I repeat, Miss Lee Chaeyoung is clear.”

The butterfly doors in front of her part, revealing another security guard—a man, this time. He signals Chaeyoung to come closer, not bothering to say anything. “Quite insulting. I’m a damn CEO,” she says to herself, her jaw clenching at the treatment she’s getting. It’s like everyone is trying to tell her she doesn’t matter, but her ego doesn’t squish that easily.

The guard leads her through a corridor lined with closed doors, each bearing a simple, gold plaque: Legal Affairs, Global Marketing, and— “What the hell is ‘Treasury Management?’ Is that not just ‘Finance and Accounting?’” she wonders quietly. Beyond another set of glass doors, Chaeyoung catches a glimpse of a sprawling office space, buzzing with a small army of employees. Having this many people on the executive wing is a testament to the sheer scale of Golden Leaf's operation. It's a stark reminder of the colossus she's challenging, a company whose resources dwarf her own.

The guard leads her past rows of impressive offices until they stop before a large, obsidian door, subtly set apart from the others. No nameplate adorns it, but the aura of power radiating from behind it is palpable. The guard simply nods towards the door, his duty fulfilled. Chaeyoung takes a final breath, the faint, lingering taste of Red Apple a quiet rebellion against the overwhelming presence of Golden Leaf.

Chaeyoung steps closer to the door, but before she could knock, it opens by itself, as if eager to welcome her. Inside, Park Minjun is seen standing by the big glass wall, its tinted surface softening the scorching afternoon sunlight. Stepping inside, the guard closes the door behind her, the subtle sound of the lock latching confirming the lack of an escape route.

Minjun turns slowly from the window, his expression unreadable, a single Salted Silk pod held loosely in his hand. His gaze sweeps over Chaeyoung, an almost clinical assessment in his eyes. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken power. "Miss Lee," he finally says, his voice a low, resonant rumble that seems to fill the vast office. "Thank you for accepting my invitation." He gestures to a minimalist chair placed pointedly opposite his sprawling desk, a subtle challenge in the invitation. “Please, have a seat. I assure you, you’re safe within these walls.”

Chaeyoung meets his gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between them. She steps forward, her heels clicking softly on the plush carpet, and deliberately takes the minimalist chair. It's surprisingly comfortable, its appearance hiding a clever practicality. A subtle smirk touches her lips. "Safe, perhaps, or simply… contained" she acknowledges, her voice calm. "Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Park. I'm sure you didn't bring me all the way to your... 'fortress' just for pleasantries.”

Minjun’s expression softens as his lips curve into a smile, perhaps hiding his hostility behind a momentary façade. “Miss Lee,” he pulls a chair for himself, settling into it, “believe me, I didn’t invite you here to bash you. I meant it when I said I wanted to see you in private.” Placing his Salted Silk pod on the table, he gently pushes it closer to her. “Please, allow yourself to relax. I’m not trying to put you in danger.”

Chaeyoung's gaze flickers to the Salted Silk pod, then back to Minjun's surprisingly soft expression. She raises an eyebrow, a subtle challenge in her eyes. "Relaxing seems an ambitious goal, given the circumstances," she notes, her voice dry. She leans forward, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, but makes no move towards the pod. "However, I'm intrigued. What exactly is it you wish to discuss, Mr. Park, that couldn't be covered by a lawsuit?"

Minjun smiles once more, falling silent for a few seconds as he eyes the pod lying idly on the table. “I’m dropping the lawsuits, Miss Lee,” he mutters softly, his tone dropping to a gentle timbre. “In fact, I’ll also sell you the patent for Salted Silk—cheaply, might I add.” Chaeyoung’s jaw drops, disbelieving what she has just heard, surprise drawn all over her features. “Pardon me, Mr. Park, but what did you just say?”

Minjun’s smile stays solid, his expression softening further, almost appearing benevolent. "I said, Miss Lee," he repeats, a subtle emphasis on his words. "I am dropping the lawsuits and offering you the patent for Salted Silk." He gestures vaguely with the hand holding his pod. "Let's just say... Golden Leaf is about to embark on a new grand venture, one that requires our full attention. We prefer to clear the deck, streamline our focus, and honestly, Azure has given us enough sleepless nights.” His gaze drifts toward the pod before chuckling. “I promise I’m not trying to flirt with you, but thinking about you makes me lose sleep, Miss Lee.”

Chaeyoung's eyebrows raise slightly, her initial shock now laced with deep suspicion. His words hang in the air, a strange mix of business acumen and a thinly veiled, almost unsettling, personal remark. She ignores the flirtation—quite the poor attempt by her standards—her mind rapidly sifting through the implications. Golden Leaf never acts without incentive, let alone sell one of their best-selling IPs. There's a hidden cost here, a trap far more intricate than she can yet discern. “Mr. Park, can you please jump to Azure’s role in all this?” she presses, starting to lose her patience over the circling conversation.

Minjun's chuckle deepens, his eyes still holding that unreadable quality. "Let's just say, Miss Lee," he replies, leaning forward slightly, his tone becoming more serious. “I want Azure to stay in its own lane while Golden Leaf paves the way for the future. Let us pursue this in peace, and in return, enjoy the money that our Salted Silk brings in.” Chaeyoung stays quiet, the room now filled with a tense silence, but eventually, she breaks the brief silence. “Any other terms to your offer, Mr. Park?” she asks, familiar with how Minjun operates. “Oh, of course there is,” he answers quickly. “Develop your own flavors from now on. If we catch you stealing again, we’ll make sure Azure turns to dust.”

Chaeyoung's gaze drifts from Minjun's unreadable eyes to the Salted Silk pod, then back to the expansive view of the city. The offer is tempting: an end to the lawsuit and a profitable IP, but the terms he’s giving are shackles. She thinks about Dongho’s revelation about the restricted material used to make Salted Silk, and a grim smile takes root on her face; Park Minjun is trying to buy her silence, her complicity.

“That thing,” she points at the pod, “that thing contains a banned substance, does it not?” Minjun chuckles, looking almost amused by her question. “Did Kim Dongho tell you that?” He shakes his head, rubbing his forehead as he prepares to reveal his side of the story. “Miss Lee—oh, God, how do I say this,” he looks around the room, stringing words together in the air, “look, if you’re accusing us of breaking the law, then allow me to show you some proofs that we imported the material legitimately.”

Rising from his chair, Minjun grabs a folder from a safe buried in the wall. After making sure he has the right one, he hands it over to her, letting her assess things herself. The first few papers talk about how Golden Leaf got blocked multiple times even when they were trying to import samples. Some others talk about how Golden Leaf paid a fortune in fines for putting too much of the material in the finished product. Finally, the rest talk about an order from the government saying that Golden Leaf are only allowed to import a certain amount lest they are sanctioned.

Chaeyoung sighs but quickly masks it with a tight smile, placing the folder back on the table. “We’re no outlaw, Miss Lee,” Minjun says, his voice now confident. “No matter how hard it is to follow them, Golden Leaf operates within the boundaries of law. Sure, we try to bend it sometimes. After all, those politicians are only good for that.” She offers a small chuckle; her father once tried to lobby those crooks to lower the legal smoking age from 21 to 17. “I don’t disagree with you on that part, Mr. Park.”

Chaeyoung's smile fades, replaced by a colder expression. “Now, about your… suggestion,” she continues. “You want us to stay in our lane in exchange for Salted Silk, but what guarantee do I have that your new venture won’t hurt us?” Minjun taps his chin, his gaze drifting to the ceiling, as if really thinking about the answer to her question. “That’s a good question,” he murmurs. “I mean, so long as you won’t try stealing our IP again, we will also stay in our lane. Isn't that how things were, before all this?”

Chaeyoung's jaw tightens. He conveniently forgets the accusations against Dongho, the initial legal threats, and now, the restricted substance. It’s like he’s trying to paint Azure as the sole aggressor. "So long as we don't steal, you won't hurt us," she echoes, a dry sarcasm in her tone. "That's hardly a guarantee, Mr. Park, especially when your definition of 'your lane' seems to shift with the wind. What concrete assurances can you offer that this 'new grand venture' won't simply be a different method of encroaching on our market, or that your 'peace' isn't just a prelude to a stronger attack?"

Minjun puts his palm on his forehead, dragging it down on his face, his patience running dangerously thin. “Okay, fine. We’ll register Azure as a key account, and as a key account, not only can you have Salted Silk, but you can also buy materials from us. As you’ve seen for yourself, we can get even the most restricted materials to our front door.” Minjun chuckles; he can’t believe he just said these words, but he will get Azure to stand on the side, away from the path Golden Leaf is chasing. Also, for a company like Azure, access to such resources could revolutionize their production. “I know that sounds silly, but I can’t think of any other way—well, aside from buying Azure, that is.”

Chaeyoung blinks, taking a moment for the full weight of his words to settle. "A key account," she repeats slowly, testing the phrase on her tongue. "And this would entail... what, exactly, Mr. Park? Preferential pricing? Guaranteed supply? And what are the specific expectations for a 'key account' when it comes to competition, or, as you put it, 'staying in our lane'?" She keeps her voice steady, attempting to mask the seismic shift his offer has just created.

Minjun leans forward again, his features beaming slightly; Chaeyoung is cracking. She forces her face to remain neutral, even as a jolt of alarm, then interest, shoots through her. “Preferential pricing, yes. Guaranteed supply, yes. Hell, you can even have my heart if you desire. However, most importantly,” he continues, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “You’ll be the first to join us should this venture succeed. After all, Golden Leaf always takes care of its friends.”

Chaeyoung watches him, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "Your generosity is... noted, Mr. Park," she replies, her voice carefully neutral. The implications of his offer—access to restricted materials, guaranteed supply, a share in a successful future—are staggering, but the word "friends" echoes oddly in the opulent silence of his office. She doesn't miss the subtle power play, the implied allegiance. “Please humor me with one last question: what is it you’re seeking from this… friendship, as you call it?”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across Minjun's face. "Transparency and trust, Miss Lee," he states, his voice dropping to a confidential whisper. “The kind that’s forged between parties who fully understand the nature of this industry. If you commit to pursuing your path honorably, without resorting to... unoriginal methods, then Golden Leaf ensures your prosperity. You will be encouraged to build your own empire, protected from threats of any kind, but poke the lion again…” he trails off, letting Chaeyoung complete his sentence.

Chaeyoung holds his gaze, the weight of his words settling heavily in the opulent office. The "lion" metaphor is clear. She thinks of Azure's lean resources, the relentless grind to survive. This offer, for all its veiled threats, promises a path to power, a shortcut she hadn't dared dream of. "I understand the terms, Mr. Park," she finally says, her voice low. "Transparency, integrity... and no 'poking the lion.' A rather unique definition of friendship, I must admit, but I believe Azure Taste Limited can thrive, even within such... clear boundaries."

“Wonderful!” Minjun claps his hands, jumping out of his seat to grab a bottle of champagne from the shelves behind his desk. “Miss Lee, would you please kindly join me for a glass or two?” Chaeyoung chuckles, rising from her chair to join him by his desk—oh, whose photo is that next to his monitor? She quickly diverts her gaze, pretending to have missed the picture.

As Minjun pops the champagne, the photo by his monitor burns an image into Chaeyoung's mind. It was only a glimpse, but enough to register a soft, almost vulnerable quality that clashed sharply with the ruthless businessman before her. A sister? A lover? The detail sits uncomfortably, a tiny crack in the seemingly impenetrable facade of Park Minjun, making her wonder if there's more to his "grand venture" than just market dominance.

Minjun pours two flutes of bubbling golden liquid, handing one to Chaeyoung, his smile confident. "To new understandings, Miss Lee," he says, raising his glass. Chaeyoung takes the flute, the cold glass a stark contrast to the warmth of her hand. Her gaze meets his, but her mind is still on that photograph, searching for clues. "To new ventures, Mr. Park," she replies, her voice smooth, masking the sudden shift in her perception of him. The champagne tastes of triumph and a lingering, unsettling question.

Chaeyoung empties her glass, the last bubbles dissipating on her tongue, leaving behind that unsettling aftertaste, but her mind keeps coming back to the portrait. “Mr. Park, may I ask who that woman is?” she asks, her tone careful, almost too quiet for him to hear. Minjun turns his head, smiling rather softly as he looks at the framed photo—a beautiful woman with a vibrant, gentle smile—she can sense a deep, lingering pain beneath it, though. “This is Park Sieun, Miss Lee. She was my fiancé,” Minjun hands the photo over to her, letting her have a good look, “she passed away two weeks before the day of our wedding. A drunk trucker took her life, Miss Lee.”

Chaeyoung takes the framed photo, her fingers brushing the cool glass. The vibrant smile of Park Sieun stares back at her, radiating a warmth that now feels heartbreakingly poignant. The ruthless CEO before her suddenly transforms into a grieving man, and the weight of his personal tragedy settles heavy in the opulent office. All of Minjun's ambition, his drive to pave the way for the future, suddenly takes on a new, more profound meaning. She hands the photo back, her voice softer than before. "I... I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Park."

Minjun takes the photo back, his fingers tracing the edge of the frame. "She believed in a future, Miss Lee," he says, his voice distant, lost in memory—a stark, raw departure from the controlled executive.. "A world where… everyone is happy.” He blinks his tears back, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “It sounds cliché, I know, but… but I want to believe in that future too, so please help me, Miss Lee.”

Chaeyoung watches him, the sudden shift from ruthless CEO to grieving man pulling at something deep within her. His raw honesty, even if clichéd, gives a chilling new context to his drive. His empire-building isn't just about money; it's about a desperate need for control, for a legacy for the woman he lost. She nods slowly. "I see," she says, her voice measured. "So, this 'new venture' isn't just about market dominance; it's about... fulfilling a promise." She pauses, her gaze hardening slightly as the businesswoman reasserts herself. "If your vision for this 'happy world' is truly innovative and adheres to ethical boundaries, then yes, Mr. Park. Azure Taste Limited can play its part."

Minjun places his flute on his desk, slowly opening his arms, his eyes searching hers with raw vulnerability, hesitation drawn all over his face. “Please?” he whispers, begging her to come closer. With a soft step, Chaeyoung closes the gap between them, her arms wrapping snugly around him; he’s quite warm, too. “I hope my Sieun is proud of me,” he murmurs, his voice shaking quite violently. “She is, Mr. Park, and she loves you too,” she replies, whispering right into his ear.

Minjun's body trembles against Chaeyoung's for a long moment, a lifetime of grief contained in the brief, fragile warmth of their embrace. Slowly, he pulls back, his eyes still red-rimmed but holding a new, softer light as he looks at her. The corporate masks are gone, replaced by the weight of shared humanity. The terms of their "deal" now feel different, imbued with the silent understanding of his personal pain and her unexpected compassion.

Minjun clears his throat, a soft, almost shy sound, and glances down at his hands, then back to Chaeyoung. "Thank you, Miss Lee," he murmurs, his voice still a little hoarse. "That... it means a great deal, especially coming from you." He manages a small, genuine smile, utterly devoid of the calculated charm from moments before. The tension hasn't vanished, but it has transformed, replaced by a delicate understanding that hangs between them. Chaeyoung holds his hand firmly, her fingers itching to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Please, it’s just Chaeyoung-ie…” she mutters, her voice getting tender. Minjun's eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the familiar, almost intimate, suffix, a new warmth spreading through them. “Thank you for being honest. I appreciate honest men, even if they’re scary like you.”

Minjun takes a shaky breath, the unfamiliar warmth of the informal nickname settling deep within him. He squeezes her hand gently before releasing it. The silence stretches, no longer tense with animosity, but with a complex mix of vulnerability and burgeoning respect. "Chaeyoung-ie," he repeats softly, testing the name on his tongue. "Perhaps... perhaps we can make this 'new venture' something we both can be proud of, a legacy that transcends simple profit."

Chaeyoung watches him, the lingering sting of his grief in her own eyes. The image of the powerful, ruthless CEO has shattered, replaced by a man driven by profound loss, its weight unimaginable for her. Her initial strategy of countering his every move now feels inadequate, perhaps even cruel. This isn't just about business; it's about a shared understanding, a fragile thread woven between them. The Salted Silk patent, the access to materials, the "lanes"—all of it now holds a different meaning.

Minjun offers her another small, almost hopeful smile, a stark contrast to the calculating grin he wore just moments before. The silence that follows is comfortable, filled with the unspoken weight of their shared understanding. The opulent office, once a battleground, now feels like a space where something entirely new has begun to take root. They stand there for a long moment, two former adversaries, now connected by grief, ambition, and the faint, unsettling taste of a future yet unwritten.

Chaeyoung holds his gaze. Not in a tense, hostile way, but rather a relaxed, cordial one. “I don’t mean no disrespect to Miss Park Sieun, but if you keep acting this kind and gentle, I might actually fall for you, Mr. Park.” Minjun chuckles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “Has anyone ever told you how funny you are, Chaeyoung-ah?” he quips, a genuine grin spreading across his face, delighted by her admission.

Chaeyoung grins back, the earlier tension completely dissolved. "Only when they're truly caught off guard," she replies, a playful glint in her eyes. "But it seems I've found my audience." The air in his office now feels strangely intimate, filled with the unexpected warmth of shared laughter. They stand there, the head of a titan and an aspiring empress, connected not by legal battles or corporate maneuvering, but by a sudden, profound understanding that transcends business.

Minjun shakes his head, still smiling. "Well, consider me thoroughly off guard," he says, a softness in his voice that was unimaginable an hour ago. He gestures back towards the door, acknowledging the need for Chaeyoung to continue her day as a CEO. “You’re free to leave, Chaeyoung-ah,” he says. Looking over her shoulder at the door, Chaeyoung’s forehead furrows; she thinks the door is still locked. “I thought you had me locked in here?” Minjun explodes in laughter, doubling over slightly, shaking his head out of pure mirth. “Oh, no, no. The lock is for keeping those outside, outside. Just turn the handle and you’ll be on your way.”

Chaeyoung can't help but crack a genuine smile herself, the lingering tension from earlier conversations finally dissipating completely. The sheer absurdity of her assumption, paired with Minjun's uninhibited laughter, creates a strange camaraderie. "Well, that's certainly one way to control the flow," she quips, a genuine lightness in her tone. Making her way to the doors, she turns the handle as he suggested, and they part for her. “Oh, you’re not lying.”

Minjun watches the doors close behind Chaeyoung, his laughter fading into a soft smile. He walks back to his desk, picking up the framed photo of Sieun. "She's an interesting one, isn't she, love?" he murmurs to the smiling face, his voice devoid of tears now, replaced by a calculating satisfaction. “But still; she’s not you.” He sets the photo down, his gaze falling on the Salted Silk pod lying forgotten on the table. The first step of his grand venture is complete; Azure is now precisely where he needs them to be.

-

A quarter later, the tension that once filled Minjun’s vast office has truly faded, replaced by a comfortable quiet. Chaeyoung sits across from his sprawling desk, not in the minimalist chair of their first encounter, but on a plush sofa, a half-empty mug of her favorite herbal tea steaming beside her. The Salted Silk patent now sits securely in Azure's vault. The "key account" status has indeed revolutionized their access to premium materials, and the legal battles are a distant memory.

Typically a whirlwind of activity, Minjun now leans back in his executive chair, a genuine, unburdened smile on his face as he listens to Chaeyoung recount a humorous struggle with a particularly stubborn supplier. The framed photo of Sieun still sits on his desk, but his gaze no longer carries the raw, aching pain. Instead, when he looks at it, there’s a quiet tenderness, a sense of peace that wasn't there before.

"So, you finally managed to get them to budge?" he asks, his voice warm, a stark contrast to the intimidating rumble she first knew. "You’re good at being stubborn, Chaeyoung-ah—and I mean that as a compliment." Chaeyoung laughs, a genuine, unrestrained sound that echoes softly in the room. "I learned from the best, oppa," she quips, her eyes twinkling. "Though I think my methods are slightly less... aggressive than yours."

Chaeyoung feels a warmth spread through her, and it’s not about the tea. "Good at being stubborn," she repeats softly, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I suppose that's true. Sometimes, you just know a fight is worth it, even if it seems impossible." Her gaze drifts, lingering on his hand resting casually on his desk, then flickers back to his eyes. “Okay, just so you know, I’m not going to fight Golden Leaf again,” she adds. Minjun bursts out laughing, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, let’s not do that again,” he agrees.

As the laughter dies down, the comfortable quiet deepens, filled with an unspoken awareness, a delicate thread forming between them that feels both fragile and profoundly real. "What about you, oppa?" she asks, her voice softer now. "What impossible fights are you still determined to win?" Minjun sighs, promptly reminded about a material that is quite difficult to get his hands on. “I mean, it’s not impossible necessarily, but importing Raspberry Ketone has been… quite challenging. If only we didn’t need it so bad.”

Chaeyoung's brow furrows in thought. Raspberry Ketone. A whisper of a substance, found only in trace amounts naturally. "Raspberry Ketone, huh?" she mouths, leaning slightly forward. “Let me guess; raspberry isn’t in season right now.” Minjun pouts as he nods, exaggerating his reactions a bit. “I guess we can go back to selling Salted Silk—oh, wait…” Her eyebrows rise at the mention of Salted Silk, her lips curving into a light smile. “Wait, Salted Silk is yours now, isn’t it,” he muses, a smile of similar lightness blooming on his face. Chaeyoung giggles, the warm and bright sound bouncing on the glass walls. “Hey, you gave it to me, remember? Something about making peace, if I recall correctly.”

Leaning back in their respective seats, their gaze drifts aimlessly, another silence settling in the room. “Oppa,” she calls to him, breaking the peace. “Why not try selling something Azure makes instead?” Staying silent, Minjun blinks a few times, thinking about the offer. “Something that Azure makes…” His gaze drifts to the ceiling, then back to her. “Such as what, Chaeyoung-ah?” She grabs her phone, checking the list of new items that Azure’s RND team has created recently. “Erm, I don’t know—graham crackers, maybe? The materials for this are easy to get, you know.”

Minjun's eyes, wide with thought, settle on Chaeyoung. "Graham crackers," he repeats, a slow, intriguing smile spreading across his face. The idea is so outside Golden Leaf's current trajectory, yet, coming from her, it sparks a genuine interest. "Can I have a sample, please? I think this might work out well for us." His emphasis on "us" implies a shared future, not just his own. With a smile, Chaeyoung reaches for her handbag, pulling out an amber bottle packed in a plastic bag. “100 milliliters of graham crackers flavor, all for you.”

Minjun takes the amber bottle, his fingers brushing hers as he accepts it. Uncapping it, he inhales deeply, a surprised hum escaping him. “Oh, this is… different,” he murmurs. “This is ready-to-use, right?” Chaeyoung nods to his question, but she also warns him that it might taste a bit chemical-like, since it’s quite fresh from the lab. “I mean, if it’s good, it’s good,” he says, grabbing an empty cartridge from the drawer of his desk. She keeps her eyes on him as he fills a pod to the brim, biting her lip to stifle a grin; she doesn’t want to celebrate too early.

Minjun inserts the pod into his device, taking a cautious draw. His forehead furrows slightly as he exhales, but he quickly relaxes into a surprised smile. “This is a good starting point, Chaeyoung-ah,” he confirms, never one to shy away from offering praise. “Not sweet enough for my taste, but still very good. How did your team make this, by the way?” Chaeyoung grins, her heart soaring with pride. Her R&D team has done a wonderful job, and to have the head of the giant praise them warms her heart. “I just told them to try mixing some flavors together, and they came up with some new flavors, including this one.”

“Oh? Some new flavors, you say?” he asks, already considering about commissioning Azure to produce stuff for Golden Leaf. Chaeyoung pads over to the sofa, fishing out some more bottles of newly created flavors, and returns to him with a handful of amber bottles, each one labeled concisely. “Oh, now we’re talking.” Minjun grabs a bottle—strawberry shortcake, the label says—and inspects it closely. “These samples are meant for a customer, but you’re more important than them.” As soon as those words leave her lips, Chaeyoung quickly looks away as heat rises on her cheeks, hiding behind the curtain of her hair. “Anyway, let me know what you think.”

Minjun's eyes flicker to her averted face, a knowing glint appearing in them, but he doesn't comment on her sudden shyness. He shakes the strawberry shortcake bottle gently, his focus returning to the task at hand, though a quiet amusement plays on his lips. "Strawberry shortcake," he repeats, pulling another empty cartridge from his drawer. "Let's see if your R&D team can make me blush, too, Chaeyoung-ah." He winks, a playful challenge in his tone, then proceeds to fill the pod, letting her anticipation build.

Minjun takes a slow puff, his eyes closing shut as he savors the flavor. It’s a touch sweeter than the graham crackers one, and combined with the hint of sourness, it’s surely something that is right up his alley. “Can you do a production trial?” he asks, his voice crisp with intent. “P-production trial? Like… right now?” she stammers, slightly taken aback by his sudden (yet gentle) demand. “Well, yes, please.”

Chaeyoung stares at him, her initial surprise quickly giving way to a thrill of excitement. A production trial? She doesn’t even know what her team is occupied with at the moment. It's exactly the kind of audacious move she's come to expect from him, now simply softened by his current demeanor. "Yes, oppa," she affirms, her voice gaining its usual confident edge. "Let’s do a production trial. How quickly do you need the first batch, and what specific quantities are you thinking?" Her eyes gleam with a mixture of challenge and shared ambition.

Minjun glances at the clock sitting on his desk. There’s half a workday left, and as much as he wants to test Azure, he doesn’t want to push too hard. “At least 25 kilograms. Of course, it goes without saying that I want them quality-tested and ready to be used immediately.” Chaeyoung swallows a gulp; 25 kilograms isn't what Azure usually does for a production trial; it's usually around 2 kilograms, 5 tops. Her eyes dart rapidly as she cycles through her team’s current projects, the inventory levels, and the lab’s open slots for quality testing. “Azure Taste Limited accepts the challenge, oppa,” she says firmly, putting her worries to the side. “You will have 25 kilograms of strawberry shortcake e-liquid at your front door before 7 p.m. tonight.”

Minjun's intense gaze softens slightly, a hint of something akin to awe flickering in his eyes. "7 p.m., you say?" he murmurs, a quiet respect in his tone. "Then you might want to call someone soon, sweetheart, because this man in front of you doesn’t like lateness, and those mixers aren't about to move on their own,” he adds. Chaeyoung blinks rapidly, the hint of his urgency settling in her mind, and runs to the sofa to grab her phone, frantically browsing through the contacts to find department heads.

Minjun watches her as she makes one call after another, giving brief yet concise orders to each person. “Cute,” he thinks, an adoring but regardful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. This isn't just about the flavor anymore; it's about the woman cranking the gears of production, thus bringing the flavor to life. When she finally drops the phone, a slight flush on her cheeks, he speaks. "That's quite a symphony you conduct, Chaeyoung-ah," he says, his voice laced with genuine awe, completely devoid of his usual corporate edge. “The things I do for you, oppa…” she muses, crashing into the sofa once more, her heart still racing with a mix of excitement and panic.

Chaeyoung closes her eyes for a moment, letting the adrenaline drain from her limbs. The weight of the 25-kilogram promise still hangs in the air, but Minjun's praise, his soft tone, and the easy way he now uses her informal name, settle something deep within her. She opens her eyes, meeting his warm gaze. No more is he a scary CEO that runs the industry; he’s more akin to a demanding customer, a confidant, or perhaps something more. The thought sends a new kind of warmth through her, one that has nothing to do with panic and everything to do with him.

Minjun watches her, a gentle smile playing on his lips as her eyes open, meeting his. He sees the softness there, the lingering wonder, and a warmth spreads through him that mirrors her own. "Everything alright, Chaeyoung-ah?" he asks, his voice low, filled with a gentle understanding. He doesn't press, just holds her gaze, letting the new, delicate understanding settle between them. The office, usually a place of sterile deals, now hums with a different kind of energy. “If you need fresh air, that door is open,” Minjun adds, pointing to the tinted glass door to the balcony.

Chaeyoung holds his gaze for another moment, feeling the undeniable pull of his presence. The offer of fresh air is tempting, but for now, the quiet intimacy of the office, filled with this new energy, feels enough. "I think I'm alright now, oppa," she murmurs, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Just... processing. Twenty-five kilograms of strawberry shortcake e-liquid by 7 p.m. It's a lot to process. I mean, the recipe was only validated yesterday.” A chuckle escapes her lips, as she thinks about how bold he is to buy something so new, so much.

-

Chaeyoung and Minjun sit together at the loading dock gate, their legs dangling off the edge. Minjun scrolls through his phone, not catching the way she keeps biting her lips, anxiously waiting for Azure’s truck to enter through Golden Leaf’s front gate. It is only when he glances at her that he sees the signs of nervousness; tense posture, lip-biting, and long gaze. A sense of protectiveness washes over him, but Minjun quickly diverts his attention back to his phone. “She’ll be okay,” he thinks.

Minjun carefully places his phone beside him on the concrete. "Something wrong, Chaeyoung-ah?" he asks, his voice soft, cutting through her anxious thoughts. He doesn't need to ask if it's about the delivery; he knows. Chaeyoung sighs, letting some of the tension drain from her shoulders. "It's a big order for something so new, oppa," she admits, her voice a low murmur. "I just... I really want it to be perfect for you."

Minjun's gaze warms further, understanding the unspoken weight of her desire to impress him. Scooting closer to Chaeyoung, he musters up the courage to wrap an arm around her, offering comfort. “It’s the effort that counts, sweetheart,” he whispers, his tone warm in her ear. “Even if the e-liquid isn’t commercial-ready right away, we can tweak the recipe and try again.”

Chaeyoung leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder, finding solace amid nervousness. “You know, sometimes I wish we had been friends from the start. I wish I hadn’t fought you over Salted Silk. I wish—” Minjun places a finger on her lips, tenderly deadening her voice. “This is how it’s meant for us, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaving no room for her to rebut.

A bright white truck, emblazoned with Azure Taste Limited's subtle logo, finally turns the corner and rumbles towards Golden Leaf's front gate. Chaeyoung lifts her head from his shoulder, her eyes still soft as they meet his. The hum of the engine, the squeal of the brakes—oh, it's the beautiful sound of a delivered promise. Minjun squeezes her shoulder gently, his gaze filled with shared anticipation, no longer just for the product, but for the future they are undeniably building together.

The truck grinds to a halt before them, its engine still humming. A Golden Leaf security guard approaches, ready to open the gate. Minjun rises, offering Chaeyoung a hand as she stands. "Let's see the fruits of your team’s labor, Chaeyoung-ah," he states, a note of genuine excitement in his voice. As the gate slides open, the truck backs into the loading dock, ready to offload the 25 kilograms of strawberry shortcake e-liquid.

Standing next to each other on the side, Chaeyoung’s fingers snake around his own, seeking comfort to calm her racing heart. “You’re okay. You’re totally okay,” he whispers, squeezing her hand firmly. She nods slowly, taking his affirmation to heart, but the urge to keep biting her lips proves irresistible. “Good or bad, we’ll think about it together,” he adds, offering closure to Chaeyoung.

The Azure trucker grabs a 30-kilogram jerrycan from the truck, placing it on the concrete floor before the two CEOs. “I was told to give these things to you, Miss Lee,” he says, handing a folder, presumably containing quality testing results, and a commercial-sized, 100-milliliter bottle of e-liquid. After handing those items over, the trucker scratches his head, seemingly puzzled about something. “Miss Lee, pardon my curiosity, but… why the rush order, and why did no one give me proof of delivery to be signed?”

Chaeyoung smiles, squeezing Minjun’s hand stoutly as she addresses the trucker’s question. “This man right here wanted to test us from all kinds of aspects, Mr. Koo,” she tilts her head towards Minjun, as if shifting the blame to him, “as for the proof of delivery, I think it’s an oversight, but we can fix that tomorrow. You’re free to head back.”

As Mr. Koo retreats to his truck, Minjun's gaze locks onto the jerrycan. He kneels, the weight of the container undeniable, and with a grunt, manages to pry open the cap. A rich, sweet aroma, unmistakably strawberry shortcake, wafts into the evening air. He dips a clean, sterile stick into the liquid, brings it to his nose. Chaeyoung watches him, her breath held, every muscle in her body taut with anticipation.

Minjun closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the complex notes of strawberry and cream fill his senses. A slow, beatific smile spreads across his face, not the calculated grin of the CEO, but the unburdened joy of someone who has found exactly what they've been searching for. He opens his eyes, a glint of pure triumph in them as he looks at Chaeyoung. "This," he murmurs, his voice filled with reverence, wiggling the smelling stick in front of her eyes, "this isn't just good, Chaeyoung-ah. This is the next big thing—the next Salted Silk, perhaps.”

Chaeyoung's taut muscles finally relax, a wave of profound relief washing over her as Minjun's words sink in. A warm, triumphant smile matches his own. "The next Salted Silk, oppa?" she muses, her voice soft with pride. "That's quite the compliment." She steps dangerously close to him, the gap between their bodies barely able to fit a sheet of paper. Chaeyoung asks, “You’re not playing with me, are you?” Shaking his head firmly, he answers, “No, not at all. I meant every word I said.”

Chaeyoung holds his gaze, a quiet awe blossoming within her. His sincerity, his close presence, the weight of his words – it all solidifies something profound. The cool evening breeze ruffles her hair, but the warmth between them is undeniable. She simply nods, a soft, contented smile on her face. The new flavor, the successful trial, the enormous potential... it all pales slightly in comparison to the man standing so close, the one who no longer plays games, the one who sees her, truly sees her. The future stretches before them, no longer a battlefield, but a shared, exciting horizon.

-

A quarter later, the strawberry shortcake e-liquid is not just a success; it's a phenomenon. It dominates the market, its unique, natural flavor profile captivating consumers across the world, not just Asia. Sales figures for both Golden Leaf and Azure Taste Limited surge, shattering all previous records. The "next Salted Silk" has truly arrived, and then some. It’s particularly strange for Azure; they have never seen numbers this big.

Chaeyoung’s eyes remain glued to her tablet as her Continental takes her to Minjun’s house. “That forecast graph looks like a mountain,” she thinks, her finger tracing a line along the graph. “And to think that Azure is in the center of all this…” Her gaze leaves the screen as she leans back in the back seat. “Is everything okay, Miss Lee?” her chauffeur asks, glancing at her through the rear-view mirror. “It is. If anything, everything is great,” she states, no hesitation in her voice.

The Continental glides silently through the opulent gates of Minjun's private estate, a place Chaeyoung has only visited a handful of times, always for a high-stakes, exclusive meeting. Tonight, however, feels different. As the car pulls to a stop, Minjun stands waiting at the entrance of his grand house. A casual shirt, the sleeves folded to his elbows, replaces his usual sharp suits, and a soft, welcoming smile is already gracing his lips. He extends a hand to her as she steps out, his eyes warm with an unspoken congratulations that goes far beyond just business.

Chaeyoung takes his outstretched hand, her fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. The subtle contact sends a pleasant shiver through her. "Oppa," she murmurs, her voice soft with a mixture of awe and contentment as she takes in his relaxed form. The scent of his subtle cologne, familiar from their close encounters, now seems to linger more intimately in the evening air. He squeezes her hand gently, a silent acknowledgment of their shared journey and the profound success that now links them.

“Tell your chauffeur to leave you with me, sweetheart,” Minjun mutters, an invitation to a special night lying beneath his voice. Chaeyoung nods, signaling to her chauffeur to leave her at Minjun’s estate. As the car disappears into the night, she turns to face him again. “I’m yours now,” she whispers back.

Minjun's smile deepens, a profound tenderness replacing the earlier gleam in his eyes. He laces his fingers through hers, the warmth of their joined hands anchoring them both. "Come inside, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a low, inviting hum. He guides her across the grand threshold, the heavy door closing behind them with a soft click, sealing them within the intimate warmth of his home. The quiet opulence of the foyer feels less imposing now, less a symbol of power and more a backdrop for the shared, undeniable connection that pulses between them.

Chaeyoung’s eyes land on the massive, plush sofa in the center of his grand living room. “Can we sit there, please?” she asks, pointing at the sofa, eager to sink herself into it. With a small nod, Minjun leads her to the pointed furniture, letting her sit down first before settling next to her. He turns to her, his hand gently finding hers again, lacing their fingers together. His thumb softly traces the back of her hand, a simple gesture that speaks volumes.

She leans closer to Minjun, to the point where he can feel her breathing on his face. “Kiss me, oppa.” Without hesitation, he gently takes her lips, taking her invitation to intimacy right away. Closing their eyes, Minjun and Chaeyoung stay connected, filling the air with a charged intimate tension. When the kiss eventually breaks, both are left breathless; gone are the CEOs—they are simply Lee Chaeyoung and Park Minjun, two souls finding their way to each other.

Minjun's eyes flutter open, dark with a shared emotion, as he rests his forehead against hers. "Chaeyoung-ah…" he breathes, the name a soft prayer on his lips. His hand moves from hers to cup her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin. “This feels right, doesn’t it, oppa?” He nods to her question, the small gesture carrying more weight than any words he can say now. The world outside, the new success they have built together, fades into insignificance. All that exists is the soft warmth of her against him, the gentle rhythm of their breaths, and the undeniable truth of this moment.

Chaeyoung crashes into him once more, claiming his lips as hers, pouring everything she has into the connection. “I… I want to be with you, oppa. Not just as a business partner, but as a partner in life,” she confesses. Minjun takes a deep breath as her words settle in his mind, but before he can say anything else, she presses on. “Would you let me take the space in your heart that Miss Park Sieun once owned?”

Minjun's eyes hold hers as he rests his forehead against hers. "No one could ever replace my lovely Sieun, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with the enduring grief. "But you, my incredible Lee Chaeyoung... you don't need to replace her. You've carved out a space in my heart that is uniquely yours. A space that makes me want to live again—truly live. Not just for the past, but for a future with you." He pulls her into another deep, reaffirming kiss, sealing his words.

When the kiss finally breaks, they remain intertwined, foreheads resting together, breathing each other in. The silence of the grand living room wraps around them, not empty but rich with unspoken promises and the gentle thump of two hearts beating in sync. Chaeyoung lifts a hand, tracing the line of Minjun's jaw, a soft, amazed smile blooming on her lips. "A future with you, oppa," she whispers, the words tasting like hope.

Pulling away, Minjun’s palm lands on her knee, softly caressing it. “May I entertain you with some shrimp carbonara fettuccine?” he asks, a hint of excitement woven in his voice, seemingly eager to flex his cooking skills. Chaeyoung giggles; shrimp carbonara fettuccine sounds heavenly to her rumbling tummy. “Yes, you may, oppa. Please make it spicy too.” His eyebrow rises at her request. “Spicy, you say? How spicy?” She leans closer towards him, the idea of personal space non-existent. “As spicy as tonight will be.”

Minjun's eyebrow remains raised, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. "As spicy as tonight will be," he echoes, his voice a low, husky rumble that sends another shiver down her spine—this one is purely of anticipation. He squeezes her knee gently before pushing himself off the sofa. "Consider it done, sweetheart. Come, let's see if your palate can handle Golden Leaf's executive chef's spiciest creation." He extends a hand, inviting her to join him, his eyes sparkling with a promise of culinary, and perhaps romantic, adventure.

Chaeyoung settles on a stool at the kitchen, her hands resting on the clean marble countertop, while Minjun begins to prepare the fettuccine dish. She watches on silently, as if stuck in a stupor, as he moves around the kitchen with practiced fluidity. “Was he a chef in a past life or something?” she wonders quietly. “You know, I’ve always liked cooking for those I hold dear,” he says, as if able to read her mind. “Seeing people enjoy my cooking brings me joy.”

Chaeyoung’s ears perk up like an excited puppy. “Those you hold dear, oppa? Am I part of that exclusive circle now?” she muses, a flush creeping up her cheeks at the idea of being held dear. Minjun glances at her over his shoulder, a small grin peeking out the side. “You are, and once you're in, you can't get out—well, unless you do something very, very… uh, stupid.” She laughs, the sound filling the spacious kitchen. “Like stealing your most precious IP?” Minjun laughs with her, the clash over Salted Silk a distant memory. “Yes, like stealing my most precious IP.”

Soon, two plates of shrimp carbonara fettuccine lands on the counter, the smell of garlic and butter poignant. “I put 4 bird’s eye chilies in yours. I hope that's spicy enough,” he says, his gaze still locked on her plate. Holding his chin with her fingertips, Chaeyoung turns his face towards her—wait, since when is her cleavage exposed? “I can handle spice, oppa, and I'm not talking about chilies.”

Minjun's eyes widen slightly at her directness, the playful challenge in her gaze mirroring his own. A slow, consuming heat rises within him, far more potent than any chili. His hand, initially resting idly on the counter, slides towards hers, his thumb brushing against the soft skin of her wrist. "Oh, you're not talking about chilies, are you, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a desire he no longer bothers to hide. He leans in, closing the remaining distance between them, his gaze dropping to her lips.

Chaeyoung's breath hitches, her eyes fluttering closed as Minjun's lips finally claim hers. The kiss is deep, urgent, a declaration of all the unspoken words and desires that have simmered between them for months. His hand tightens on her wrist, pulling her closer until no space remains. When they eventually break apart, both are breathless. The scent of garlic and chili on the air are now mingling with something far sweeter and more intoxicating.

Minjun pulls away, a triumphant, tender smile gracing his lips. "That’s definitely spicier than any chili," he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “But whatever it is we’re about to do tonight can’t be done on an empty stomach.” A fond, knowing smile tugs at the corners of Chaeyoung’s lips. “I know, oppa, and just so you know, I want to be treated with grace and tenderness.”

Minjun's triumphant smile mellows into something deeply tender. He reaches out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch light and reverent. "Grace and tenderness," he repeats softly, his gaze holding hers. "You deserve nothing less, my heart." He then gestures to the plates of pasta. "Come, let's get some warmth in that stomach of yours. We have all night for... everything else." His eyes twinkle, a playful promise of the passion to come, wrapped in careful respect.

As they begin to eat the fragrant pasta, the air between them remains charged with that electric awareness. The meal is delicious, a testament to Minjun's unexpected talent, but it feels like a prelude. Once their plates are clear, Minjun reaches across the counter, taking her hand. "The living room, perhaps?" he suggests, his thumb gently caressing her palm. Chaeyoung shakes her head; she wants something more… private. “The bedroom?” he suggests once more, looking for a yes from her. “The bedroom, yes,” she confirms, leaning forward a bit, giving him a peek into her exposed chest. “Grace and tenderness, remember?”

He rises from his stool, pulling her gently from hers, their joined hands never breaking contact. He doesn't need to ask again; the answer is clear in her gaze, in the slight flush on her cheeks, in the undeniable pull that now binds them as he turns and leads her deeper into the quiet vastness of his home.

A shiver, this one purely out of exhilaration, runs down Chaeyoung's spine as Minjun leads her towards what feels like the sacred, yet hallowed, sanctuary of his bedroom. Her mind races with all kinds of thoughts; she is about to enter the room where Minjun and Sieun have shared nights of raw, unbridled passion. The idea that she’s replacing Sieun is almost unsettling.

The door looms, dark wood against the soft light of the hallway. As Minjun's fingers tighten around hers, Chaeyoung's steps falter for just a moment. She looks up at him, her eyes wide with a sudden, raw vulnerability. "Oppa," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Park Sieun..." She doesn’t need to finish the sentence; the unspoken question, the ghost of comparison, hangs heavy in the air between them.

Minjun's gaze, usually so sure, softens even further, acknowledging the profound weight of her hesitation. “No, baby, this isn’t about replacing her with you. This is about us, about the future we’re building together,” he assures her, pulling her into his arms. “I think… I think my Sieun would want me to look forward and move on, so please help me.”

Chaeyoung melts into his embrace, her arms tightening around his waist. The lingering doubt from Sieun's ghost begins to dissipate, replaced by the profound warmth of Minjun's honesty and his raw plea. She rests her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I will, oppa," she whispers, her voice firm, filled with a love that now understands the depths of his. "I'll help you. Every step of the way." Together, they take that first step towards the bedroom door, no longer a sanctuary of the past, but a threshold to their future.

The soft light of the bedroom spills into the hallway as Minjun pushes the door open further, holding it for her. He steps back, allowing her to enter first, a silent gesture of respect and invitation. Chaeyoung walks into the room, her eyes taking in the subdued elegance, the large, inviting bed. She turns to him, a soft, confident smile on her lips, and reaches for his hand again, pulling him fully into the room. The door clicks shut behind them, enclosing them in a private world where Lee Chaeyoung and Park Minjun exist as who they truly are, no façade of professionality in between.

Chaeyoung pulls him closer, her free hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. “Oppa…” she mutters, her eyes fluttering close, beckoning him to fully close the gap. Without a word said, Minjun leans down, capturing her lips with his in an unhurried kiss, unattached to the world beyond these walls.

As the kiss deepens, she takes his hand, guiding it towards her bountiful bosom. “Mm…” Chaeyoung softly moans into the kiss, savoring the sensation his fingers are offering. They break the kiss momentarily, looking into each other’s eyes. “You like my assets, oppa?” she teases, pressing her body into him. “I do,” he whispers back. “You’re perfect, baby…”

Minjun's fingers gently explore, eliciting another soft gasp from Chaeyoung. He leans down, tracing the curve of her neck with his lips, his breath warm against her skin. "Absolutely perfect," he adds, the words vibrating against her as he lifts her into his arms. She wraps her legs around his waist, instinctively clinging to him as he takes a step, then another, moving them closer to the inviting expanse of the bed.

Minjun settles on the edge of the bed, keeping Chaeyoung seated on his lap, her red cheeks a proof of her unspoken desires. He sneaks his hands to the second button of her blouse, his gaze meeting hers, searching for permission. “Yes, you may,” she breathes, knowing what is on his mind. One button after the other swiftly gets undone, thus allowing a glimpse into her physique. “Goodness me...” Minjun is in awe at the sight before him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, baby…”

Minjun's fingers continue their gentle work, pushing the soft fabric aside as his eyes devour the sight before him. His gaze, filled with reverence, slowly travels upward, meeting her own. Chaeyoung's hand, which had been resting lightly on his shoulder, now reaches up, her fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. "This is me, and I’m yours and only yours," she murmurs, her voice husky, a playful challenge in her eyes that promises further submission.

Minjun's eyes darken, reflecting the fervent desire in hers. He doesn't need to speak; her words, her touch, her gaze, convey everything. He leans in, closing the final distance, and captures her lips in a deep, consuming kiss that tastes of promise and absolute surrender. “Baby,” he calls to her, his whispered voice husky. “Can you do something for me?” Chaeyoung takes a deep breath, bracing to hear her first order from him. “Say it, oppa. What do you need from me?” Taking her hand, Minjun guides it towards his growing erection. “Can you help me… get ready?”

Chaeyoung's gaze drops to his hand on hers, then follows to where he guides it. A blush deepens on her cheeks, but her eyes sparkle with understanding and eager consent. Without hesitation, her fingers curl around him, feeling the warmth and impressive size. "Anything for you, oppa," she murmurs, her voice a low, confident whisper.

Chaeyoung sinks into her knees, feeling the soft carpet through the fabric of her trousers. Without breaking eye contact, she swiftly undoes his belt and zipper, sliding Minjun’s pants down his legs. “Oh my…” Slowly, hesitantly, she reaches for his manhood, the shape and size apparent from the bulge on his boxers. She looks up at him again and asks, “May I, oppa?” At his approving nod, Chaeyoung lowers his boxers, not bothering to take them off entirely; she’s stunned by the sight of his asset.

Not wasting time, Chaeyoung parts her lips, taking the first few centimeters of him in her mouth. Minjun inhales sharply at the first contact, his breath catching at his throat. “Oh my God…” he mumbles. “You could’ve warned me first, baby, but… please go on.” Relaxing her muscles, she tries to take him deeper, fighting the reflexive urge to gag. His breathing begins to pick up tempo; it’s been so long since someone has touched him like this.

Minjun's hand, which has been resting on her shoulder, tightens, his fingers subtly guiding her head, urging her deeper. A low, guttural groan escapes him, a sound of pure, unbridled pleasure that vibrates through her. Chaeyoung focuses, pushing past her own discomfort, her movements becoming more confident, more rhythmic. The taste, the feel, the sheer intimacy of it all washes over her, a thrilling tide.

Chaeyoung closes her eyes, letting her movements be guided by his hand planted on the back of her head. At every pass, she moans around him, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. “Baby…” he whispers, his breath quick and ragged, and she’s quick to meet his gaze. “Goodness me, you’re… amazing.” She offers a wink before taking more of his length, making him groan her name. “You’re… killing me, Lee Chaeyoung.”

Eventually, Minjun’s hips buck, a desperate, uncontrolled rhythm taking over his body. His fingers clench tightly in Chaeyoung’s hair, pulling her head slightly back as a final, raw groan tears from his throat. A powerful tremor shakes his entire frame, and he collapses back onto the bed, utterly spent, his breathing ragged. Chaeyoung pulls away, breathless, looking up at him as he lies there, wiping the remnants of his release off her lips. Curious, she takes a lick; Minjun tastes so… manly.

A soft chuckle rumbles in Minjun’s chest as he catches the look on Chaeyoung’s face. He reaches for her, pulling her gently up so she’s lying beside him on the bed, his arm coming around her waist. Chaeyoung rests her head on his shoulder, listening to the steadying beat of his heart. The silence that settles between them is comfortable, filled with the warmth of shared release and the undeniable, tangible proof of their newly forged intimacy.

“That was just the opening act, though, right?” Minjun chuckles at her question, pressing a fleeting peck to her forehead. “It was. It was quite… explosive, might I add,” he adds. A satisfied grin blooms on her face, proud of herself for her performance. Her hand slides from his chest to his crotch, her fingers brushing against his manhood, the tip shiny from his earlier release. “Come on, oppa. Let’s get ready for the main event,” she urges, stroking him to full hardness again.

Minjun groans, a sound of pure pleasure rumbling in his chest as her fingers work their magic. His body responds instantly, hardening beneath her touch. He pulls her closer, shifting his weight. "You’re not one for intermissions, are you, baby?" he murmurs, his voice thick with raw desire. He lifts her, repositioning her over him, their gazes locked, ready for the main event to truly begin. “Go on, then; you know what to do.”

She lifts herself off his lap, quickly shedding every layer of clothes from her body, tossing them over her head, not bothered by the mess. Minjun watches her undress with a dark, excited gleam in his eyes, his cock pointing straight to the ceiling, ready for action. “Wow…” he murmurs, taking in the sight of her shape; she’s simply breathtaking. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” A flush creeps up her face at his admission, turning her cheeks red hot. “Thank you, oppa. You’ve said that before, remember?”

“Anyway…” Chaeyoung’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she positions herself over Minjun’s rigid length, her slick folds teasing the sensitive head. She takes a moment to admire the sight of him, spread out beneath her, his chest heaving with anticipation. “Like this, handsome?” she asks, her voice a sultry purr as she slowly sinks down, taking him inch by delicious inch until she's fully seated on his thick cock. “Mm, so big and hard...” She sighs, her inner walls clenching around him as she starts to move, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles. She sets a leisurely pace, savoring the sensation of being filled to the brim by her new lover's potent manhood.

Minjun’s hands instinctively rise, gripping her hips, his fingers digging in slightly as she rolls. A deep, guttural moan rumbles from his chest, a sound that vibrates through Chaeyoung and eggs her on. His head tilts back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss etched on his face. "Yes, baby… just like that," he rasps, his voice thick with raw desire. He begins to thrust up, meeting her every downward slide, finding a powerful, intoxicating rhythm together.

Minjun groans, his fingers digging into Chaeyoung’s hips as she sets a relentless pace, her velvety walls gripping him like a vice. The sight of her bouncing on his cock, her tits swaying with each thrust, is almost too much to bear. “Fuck, baby, you're killing me.” He pants, his vision blurring at the edges as he struggles to maintain control. “So hot, so tight... You were made for me, weren't you?” Desperate to prolong the pleasure, Minjun reaches between us to rub circles around Chaeyoung’s sensitive nub, hoping to push her over the edge and into a screaming orgasm. His own climax builds rapidly, threatening to overtake him at any moment.

A low cry escapes Chaeyoung as Minjun's fingers work their magic, sending waves of pleasure through her that mirror the mounting tension within him. She clenches around him, her hips bucking wildly, abandoning all control. "Oppa!" she screams, her voice raw, as an intense wave of pure sensation washes over her, pulling a guttural roar from Minjun as he, too, shudders into his release. His body goes rigid, a final, powerful tremor shaking his frame, and they collapse onto the bed, utterly spent, their bodies slick with sweat, the last echoes of pleasure vibrating between them.

Chaeyoung moans as his hot release pools in her core, filling her to the brim, a testament to his claim over her. “I… I’m sorry; I should’ve asked first,” he breathes, regret swirling within him for being careless. “Nonsense,” she rebuts, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “This cannot be any more perfect.” She shifts slightly, eliciting a deep groan from Minjun, and looks right into his eyes. “You’re perfect for me, Park Minjun.”

Minjun's arm tightens around her, pulling her closer against his damp skin. He presses his face into her hair, inhaling her scent, a soft sigh escaping him. The grand bedroom, once a symbol of his solitary world, now hums with the warmth of their shared presence. They lie intertwined, the steady beat of his heart against her ear a comforting lullaby, proof that they are truly, finally, home in each other’s arms. The night stretches before them, no longer a series of acts, but a continuous, tender embrace.

-

Hours later, the first hint of dawn paints the vast room in hues of soft grey and rose. Chaeyoung stirs in Minjun's arms, nestled perfectly against him, a warmth spreading through her that has nothing to do with the sun. She opens her eyes to find him already awake, watching her, a profound tenderness in his gaze. "Good morning, my heart," he murmurs, his voice still heavy with sleep. “Mm, good morning, my king,” she replies, stretching languidly next to him.

Minjun's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her even closer. He presses a soft kiss to her temple, savoring the feeling of her warmth against him. "Sleep well, my love?" he asks, his voice a low rumble in his chest. Chaeyoung hums in agreement, tracing patterns on his bare arm. ”It was the best sleep I’ve had in a hot minute,” she muses, her mind going back to the sleepless nights when they were fighting over Salted Silk. “And the fact that you filled me to the brim… it’s like getting a hug from the inside.”

Minjun chuckles softly, pulling her even tighter against him, burying his face deeper into her hair. "A hug from the inside, huh?" he murmurs, a contented smile in his voice. He shifts slightly, reaching for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I like the sound of that, baby. If you need another hug, just let me know; I’ll fill you until overflowing." Chaeyoung smacks him on the chest, more playful than harmful, giggling out of pure mirth at his teasing offer. “That’s a generous offer, but I think I’d give it some time before we go again.” She shifts in his embrace, her lips brushing against his earlobe. “If we’re lucky, maybe my belly will rise after a bit of rest.”

Minjun freezes, his laughter dying in his throat. His head lifts from her hair, and he pulls back just enough to look into her eyes, searching for a hint of jest, but finds only earnestness mixed with playful hope. His breath hitches. "Your... your belly?" he whispers, the words barely audible, a profound mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy dawning on his face. She smiles from ear to ear, her eyes creasing into half-moons. “My belly, yes. I will give you heirs—that’s my promise to you.”

Minjun’s disbelief slowly morphs into a radiating warmth that fills his entire being. A single tear escapes the corner of his eye, betraying the depth of his emotion. He pulls her even closer, a fierce, protective embrace that speaks more than words ever could. "Heirs," he breathes, the word a sacred vow on his lips. "With you, my love, yes—a thousand times, yes." He cups her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks, and pulls her into a kiss that promises a lifetime of love and the joyous chaos of a family built together.

[applecaviar]

imagine xav x mc x caleb throuple sex …. them being jealous and frustrated when two guys tried to hit on their girl at the beach and they fuck it all out on her

I just noticed I didn't have Xavier in the "At the same damn time" fics 😯.

I hope you like it ☺️

The update for The land of no return series is next.

⭐Melting point🍎

Tw: smut

You flash the guys in front of you your most charming smile, laughing at their jokes as you subtly angle your body to keep Xavier and Caleb in your peripheral vision. Their stares don't go unnoticed, and you can practically feel the jealousy radiating off them from across the beach. But you act oblivious, continuing your flirtatious banter with the two men, enjoying the little thrill of making Xavier and Caleb a bit jealous.

After a few more minutes of friendly conversation, you excuse yourself and start walking towards Xavier and Caleb. As you approach, their expressions morph from jealousy to possessive.

Stopping in front of them, you tilt your head coyly, batting your lashes. "What are you two scowling about?" you ask innocently, acting as if you have no idea about the effect you just had on them. "Is everything okay?"

You can sense the tension crackling between the three of you. But you simply look at them waiting on their reaction to your little game. Little do they know, you live for moments like these, the thrill of pushing their buttons and the retaliation that's sure to follow.

You grab your tropical cocktail from Xavier's hand, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as you bring it to your lips. The sweet, fruity taste of pineapple and rum dances on your tongue as you take a long, slow sip.

With no answer from them you walk back to your beach chair, as soon as you are setting your glass down on the small side table you hear Xavier ask  "Did you have fun?"

Turning your body, you lie on your stomach deliberately arching your back to expose the skimpy backside of your bikini bottoms. The fabric stretches over the curve of your ass, the edges of your cheeks peeking out teasingly. You can feel the warm sun caressing your exposed skin, but it's nothing compared to the intensity of Xavier's gaze as he stares at your tempting display.

"Nope," you reply, voice dripping with false innocence. The single word hangs heavy in the air between you, a provocation and a challenge all in one.

"How about we go back to the hotel so you can wear something else."

You turn your head slowly to face Caleb, your long hair falling over your shoulder as you meet his eyes. A tiny smirk plays at the corners of your mouth as you respond to his suggestion.

"I really like this bikini," You emphasize each word, drawing out the syllables as if savoring the taste of them on your tongue. It's like you are daring him to do something about his obvious disapproval.

Turning back to face forward, you make a show of adjusting your bikini top. You can feel the weight of their stares, the hunger in their eyes as they watch your every move.

Xavier steps closer, invading your personal space as he leans down, his face mere inches from yours. "You and every other guy around here seems to like it too. Maybe a little too much."

Shrugging you let out a soft scoff. "So?" you ask.

You knew all too well about their love hate relationship with your bratty attitude and it only spurred you on.

Rolling on your side, you prop yourself up on one elbow, facing both men directly.

"What's the matter, boys? Can't handle a little friendly chat?" You taunt, lips curling into a teasing grin. Your eyes dance between their tense faces, reveling in the jealous frustration you see there.

Caleb leans down and presses a soft towel into your hands. "Here, wrap this around yourself"

You glance down at the towel, then back up at Caleb "But I don't feel cold," you reply, keeping your tone playful yet stubborn, and make no move to take the towel from him

Xavier sighs loudly, his patience clearly wearing thin. He leans in close again, so close you can feel his breath against your ear. "Either you wrap that towel around your body, or I'll bend you over this chair to spank that attitude out of you and give those guys a bigger show than you already have."

You let out a soft, tinkling laugh. "What makes you think I wouldn't like that? Maybe I want them to watch..."

As the words leave your lips, you suddenly realize that you may have taken things a step too far, pushing them closer to their breaking points.

So you sit up slowly and swing your legs over the side of the chair. Standing up, you fix your bikini bottoms and adjust the straps of your top.

'I think I'm going to enjoy the rest of our time here before we head back to the hotel," you say, grabbing your sunglasses and slipping them on your face.

With a flip of your hair over your shoulder, you turn and start walking towards the water's edge, putting an extra sway in your hips. You know they're watching you, their eyes glued to your every move. The sand is warm beneath your bare feet as you approach the shoreline, the waves lapping gently at the sand.

You glance back at them over your shoulder, eyes hidden behind your sunglasses, a teasing smile on your lips. "Aren't you two coming?"

⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐🍎⭐

"Caleeeeb..."Why are you doing it like that?

You are spread out luxuriously on the hotel bed, your bikini long since discarded and forgotten on the floor. Caleb's hands grip your thighs, holding them apart. His mouth moves over your folds, tongue swirling sooooo slowly on your clit, as if he has all the time in the world. He takes his time, savoring every inch of your skin, tracing the delicate contours of your femininity with a maddeningly slow thoroughness.

The minutes tick by and your frustration grows, back arching off the bed, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. You can feel the pleasure building, but it's too slow, too teasing, and not nearly enough to satisfy the need within you.

You toss your head back against the pillows, hips squirming beneath him. "Stop making out with my pussy"

Caleb simply chuckles and lifts his head just enough to flash you a grin, then he parts your folds with his fingers and spits directly on your exposed clit. You gasp at the sudden stimulation and his saliva mingles with your arousal. The slick, warm fluid trickles down between your ass cheeks.

Suddenly Xavier whispers against the shell of your ear, the deep timbre of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end  "What did we say about sassing?"

Caleb's fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, gripping you tighter as he holds you in place.

"You have two options y/n, you can be quiet and take what we give you..."

As Xavier speaks, you feel the flat of his tongue drag slowly over the peak of your nipple, the wet muscle teasing with gentleness. It draws a sharp gasp from your throat

"So soft" he whispers.

"Or?" you breathe out, your voice trembling slightly

"Or... I will find something to shove inside that bratty mouth and take what we want anyway. What will it be?"

You quickly clamp your mouth shut, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

"Good girl," Xavier praises, the words are barely out of his mouth before you feel the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into your nipple.

A gasp catches in your throat, threatening to spill over into a moan, but you bite your lip hard to stifle it.

Caleb seems to be rewarding your obedience choosing that moment to run the tip of his tongue from your entrance to your clit several times. Then he pushes a finger inside your core, curling and stroking a sensitive spot.

You can no longer hold back the needy sounds building in your throat. A moan escapes your lips, the pleasure overwhelming your previous resolve to stay quiet.

"Caleb, please..." you hear yourself beg "More, I need more..." Your hips buck against his hand, trying to take his finger deeper as your walls clench greedily around it.

"She sounds so sweet when she begs, doesn't she Caleb?"

You feel Xavier's fingers tightening around your breast, squeezing your flesh. Your nipples harden further under his touch, aching for more of his dominant caress.

"Do it again," Xavier commands, "Beg for it, and we'll make you feel good." He licks your nipple again and Caleb adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of your pussy with a steady rhythm.

You feel your orgasm building, that coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core. A breathless smile plays on your lips as you realize the power you hold, even as these two men have you pinned and at their mercy, the knowledge that you somehow have them wrapped around your finger only adds to your arousal.

"God, you are such a fucking brat," Xavier growls "All you had to do was behave yourself, and we would have fucked you the way you deserve" 

Caleb adds a third finger, stretching you further, Xavier fingers pinch and roll your other nipple in time with the thrusts of Caleb's hand.

Your hips buck wildly, rolls only making it halfway through completion "I'm gonna... Fuck, Xav..."

Just as you feel the sweet oblivion of your climax approaching, heaven within reach, and your soul poised to soar through those celestial doors...

You open the doors to heaven, but you don't get to walk in.

Because just as the first wave of your orgasm hits both men stop. Cold air hits your pussy as Caleb abruptly removes his mouth and fingers, leaving you empty and desperate.

Xavier grabs your arms, gripping them tightly as he pins them above your head, preventing you from moving, from seeking more of that glorious friction. Your orgasm, once promising to be earth shattering, fizzles out into a mere flicker, leaving you whimpering and squirming.

"Did you really think, after today, that you deserved to cum so fast?" Caleb mocks. "You haven't earned that pleasure, brat."

Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes as you stare up at them, your chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your body is a live wire of sensation, every nerve ending screaming for more, for release, but they've stolen that from you.

"If you wanted to be touched, you just needed to ask," Xavier reminds you. His grip on your arms tightens briefly, a warning and a promise all in one. "We saw how those fuckers were looking at you, like a piece of meat, a prize to be won. But you don't belong to them, do you?"

Caleb leans in and whispers, "No, you belong to us. So next time, remember this is what happens when you don't ask nicely for what you want."

Trembling and sensitive you begin to move your hands to cover your naked body, but before you can Caleb sits up, effortlessly lifting you up placing you on his lap, your legs straddling his thick thighs as he holds you up.

You look up at him, confusion in your eyes as you mumble, "I thought... we were done?"

He shifts his hips slightly, and you feel the hard length of his cock slide through your folds, the head catching on your entrance. "Oh princess," he murmurs "That was just a warning. Now comes the lesson."

He squeezes your waist tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he starts to push you down on his cock. Your eyes widen and you let out a choked gasp as you feel his girth stretching you open, the thick head pushing past your entrance.

Your head spins and when he starts to sink you lower, you feel something that always makes your mind go completely blank, the cold metal of his piercings.

He starts counting as he pushes you down "One... Two... Three..." You're not sure if he's counting each inch of his large cock as it disappears inside you, or if he's marking the way your pussy swallows up each of his piercings.

Your walls flutter and clench, trying to adjust as Caleb continues. "Five... Six... Seven..."

Then he gives your waist one last firm push, sheathing that final inch of his pierced cock deep inside you. When your ass presses against his thighs and your hips align, he finishes counting "Eight."

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he starts to roll his hips slowly, working his cock in slow circles. "This is how it feels to be ours"

You let out a shaky moan when you feel Xavier's hands squeeze your breasts from behind. Driven by instinct and desperation, you find yourself rolling your hips, grinding your ass against the length of his cock .

Xavier's voice is a warning growl in your ear as he feels your teasing movements. "Don't be greedy, bunny, If you keep pressing your ass against my dick like that, I'm going to fuck it."

Caleb, still fucking you so very slowly whispers "Careful what you wish for Pip, Xavier's not as gentle as I am. He might just take what he wants"

But you're too far gone, lost in a haze of sensation and desperation, to heed the warning in their voices. The words spill from your lips before you can stop them, fast and breathless.

"And that would be a problem, why?" you ask, rolling your hips, deliberately grinding your ass against his erection one more time.

"Because, once he starts, he won't stop until he's emptied every last drop of his cum deep inside your ass" he gives a sharp thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours, making you cry out, "and right now, your little cunt is too busy milking my cock to take much more."

"Is that what you want?" Xavier asks, "To be fucked until you can't walk straight?"

Your breathless whisper of affirmation is all it takes to shatter the last of Xavier's restraint. He spits crudely into his palm, coating his fingers with saliva. Before you can process the lewd gesture, he's pressing the slick fingers against your back entrance.

His eyes are dark with lust as he watches Caleb's cock disappear between your wet folds, your walls clinging greedily to every inch of his length. "Tell me, Y/N, do you deserve it?"

You're too desperate with need to lie, so the truth tumbles from your lips in a plea. "I don't," you admit, your voice breaking on a moan as Caleb's buries his cock to the hilt again "But I need you right now, Xav, please!"

Xavier's pupils dilate and without warning, he presses the head of his cock against your back entrance. Your body instinctively clenches, your hole squeezing down on the intrusion.

But jealous Xavier is anything but gentle, so with a single thrust, he buries himself inside your ass, not stopping until his heavy balls press against the underside of your cheeks. The sudden, intense stretch has you crying out, your back arching as your fingers scrabble at Caleb's chest for support. 

"FUCK!" you scream, feeling split open, stuffed so full of hard, pulsing cock that you swear you can feel them in your throat.

Xavier swears under his breath, pressing his forehead against your shoulder "Fuck, Caleb"

"What?"

"I can feel your fucking piercings"

Caleb's hands squeeze your ass and spreads the cheeks apart as he starts to thrust again and says "Your welcome"

Desperation claws at your insides as you clench down on their cocks, feeling every ridge and vein, every piercing and throbbing pulse. You can't form a coherent thought beyond the need for them to move, to claim you, to use you.

"Xav," you whimper, your nails digging into Caleb's skin. "I need you to move, please!" Your hips move between them, seeking more of that intense fullness.

He's testing his control, ensuring he won't embarrass himself by cumming on the spot the second he starts to move. After a few tense heartbeats, he seems satisfied that he can hold back, if only just barely.

"Hold on to Caleb and remember I love you," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Because in about five seconds, it will feel like I don't."

With that ominous warning, he starts to move, pulling his hips back until just the tip of his cock remains inside. Then, with a hard snap of his hips, he slams back into you, burying his length deep inside your ass.

The sensation of being so impossibly stretched steals your breath away, leaving you gasping and panting. Your mouth falls open, desperate for air as each of their thrusts drives the oxygen from your lungs.

Caleb takes advantage of your open mouth, leaning in to catch your lower lip between his teeth. He tugs on it gently before releasing it and flicking his tongue out to lave over the sensitive skin, soothing the sting of his nip.

"You wanted to be fucked stupid, princess?"

You don't answer, you can't. Not when the two of them are fucking you like that

"We're getting there...she just lost her ability to talk"

Xavier throws his head back, the tendons in his neck stand out, his muscles coiled and flexing as he chases his pleasure, lost in the tight, silken heat of your ass.

You're sandwiched between them, a willing victim to their lust, your body a plaything for them to use for their satisfaction. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with your desperate moans and their harsh pants and groans.

Your body is wracked with sensation, every nerve ending screaming with a dizzying mix of pleasure and pain. Tears stream down your face as you cry out, "I can't take it anymore!"

Xavier leans down, his lips brushing your ear "Yes, you can, stubborn thing. Look at how well you're doing right now."

Caleb reaches down, gripping your thighs tightly. With a sharp tug, he pulls your legs further apart, opening you wider to them. The new angle has Xavier's cock driving even deeper into your ass.

The pleasure is so intense that it blurs the line with pain, leaving you dizzy and disoriented. You can't distinguish one from the other anymore, only knowing that you're drowning in them.

 

"It's too good, it's too much... I'm about to...Xav"

"You don't need my permission, bunny. Don't hold back now."

"Caleb..."

Feeling your body shaking between them, he murmurs words of encouragement "Go ahead, Pip. Come for us, I'll be right there with you"

With a swipe of his finger against your swollen clit, Caleb sends you hurtling over the edge. Your scream tears through the room, your body convulsing violently as your orgasm crashes over you. Tears pour down your face, vision going white as pleasure detonates behind your eyes.

Your nails rake down Caleb's chest, leaving red lines in their wake as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. You can feel Xavier's rhythm start to falter, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release.

Caleb's hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he slams up into your spasming cunt, his own orgasm building rapidly. You can feel his cock growing impossibly harder.

"Fuck!" Caleb moans, his eyes squeezing shut as the first hot, thick spurt of his release paints your cervix.

"Shit, I'm close too," Xavier pants harshly "Don't you dare fucking stop, Caleb!"

Xavier's balls draw up tight, his impending release coiling hot and heavy. With a scream of your name that echoes off the bedroom walls, he hilts inside your ass one last time, his cock pulsing as it begins to erupt. 

Completely spent, you collapse against Caleb's body. Limbs trembling and face nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder as you try to catch your breath.

After a long moment, you start to giggle, a breathless, incredulous sound that turns into a full blown laugh. Caleb looks down at you, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he takes in your expression.

Still giggling, you tilt your head to meet his gaze "You two need to get that jealousy under control."

His brows furrow as he cups your chin "We don't want you talking to guys like that anymore," he states firmly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip in a gesture that's almost tender, if not for the underlying demand in his tone.

"You can't just order me..."

"We can and we will, see that's where you are wrong bunny, it's our cum filling you up right now. Not theirs" Xavier hips roll lazily against your ass, stirring his release inside you.

"You are ours."

[rynfiles]

love island — aot edition !

✎ᝰ — aot boys on love island

★ — eren, connie, reiner, jean x reader

★ — genre + warnings: fluff + boys being boys, casa amor, connie and reiner are the REAL lover boys and no one can change my mind !!!

★ — a/n: i have a bat boys version on my other blog :)

꒰ EREN JAEGER ꒱

ꔛ everyone’s favorite pretty boy or highkey most hated in america, no in between. I feel like he’ll be either very miguel codex or slightly rob coded, aka either open asf or an “onion”

ꔛ he was quite friendly and engaged himself with everyone, platonically or romantically. he gave like a brotherly vibe or “best friend’s brother” vibe

ꔛ butttt I will say that eren was a bombshell that EVERY girl was swooning for and loved all the attention that he got. he was being indecisive on which girl he’d couple with cause he really wanted to get to know everyone

ꔛ a lot of people in america either disliked the way eren moved in the villa or understood where he was coming from. he honestly has tried multiple connections but it seems like none can click in a way that he wanted, no matter how much he tried :/

ꔛ as days and couplings pass, eren decides on the person that was for him, another new bombshell that everyone loved as well. your aura was radiating soft colors, friendly, kind, and a safe space for eren. ever since then, eren has been nothing but smiles, laughs, and always exuding soft love towards his couple

ꔛ with you, he felt like he could see himself in the end, make your relationship official, and show you off. he’s always smiling after you guy’s chats, talking about the outside world and expressing how much he adores you, slight flirting here and there but that’s typical eren

ꔛ every time you guys recoupled, eren’s speeches were short and sweet. some of them weren’t his best but it was still cute how he tries to express himself for you

ꔛ neowwww casa amor, I fear all his respect flew out the window and he just did his own thing. did he think about his couple from time to time? sort of….but he did excuse himself by saying he was testing yall connection (typical male behavior). though, during the casa recoupling he felt his heart drop when he came back with another girl and saw you standing all by themselves, dolled up and waiting with open arms. just to be embarrassed by this man and the girl who stole all his attention

ꔛ for days, he would try to win you back but he started feeling like there was no going back after casa. he made breakfast, wrote cute notes, talk to your friends, any and everything he tried all he can to win them back. in the end, he accepted his actions, the feelings he hurt, and broke it off with the girl he brought back. even after that, he kept up with the little actions to show how sorry he is and slowly won his way into america’s heart :)

ꔛ in the end, eren got eliminated before the final 4. he wasn’t mad at it, sulked a bit cause he’ll miss his friends and all the amazing people he met but he does understand why he didn’t make it to the end. also gave himself time to enjoy you in the real world and potentially become a real couple

꒰ CONNIE SPRINGER ꒱

ꔛ oh connie, the lover everyone wants in their lives. he’s so kordell coded, it’s actually sick just thinking about it; he’s charming, sweet, patient, and funny asf. he was america’s favorite boy and you can tell he definitely didn’t mind the attention

ꔛ I would say he’s an og and got along well with everyone, however didn’t really have a connection. he was in a couple but that didn’t necessarily work out and it kinda broke him, he thought he was gonna be eliminated and don’t experience the love he deserves :/

ꔛ but God bless, you came in as a bombshell and stole that boy’s heart quickly. the boys teased him about how they can practically see heart eyes in connie’s eyes as you entered, but can you blame him? you were stunning, your outfit fitted you well, and your beauty made his pound, he thought he could it for a second

ꔛ ever since you entered, he was all over you and pulling you into multiple chats. he really wanted to get to know you and beg that there could be something between the two of you and there was! it wasn’t there initially but as time passed, you felt giddy when you saw him :)

ꔛ throughout your time with him, he would rave on about how much he adores you, compliment your appearance and personality, doing everything in his willpower to show how much he genuinely likes you. he didn’t force himself on you, he gave you enough space and let you figure out where you stand with him

ꔛ the first time, y’all coupled together, oh that boy was grinning ear to earrrrrr. your speech wowed him and made him fall for you even more. as he approached you, and spun you around, he just can’t get over you he can’t help it. it feels like bright colors and giddiness as he was around you

ꔛ oh casa amor was his BIGGEST villain. he contemplated on staying but the boys convinced him that this will be like a mini vacation from the villa, trust them!! oh how he wish he didn’t listen…

ꔛ casa was fun and he did enjoy the girls that he met, he kept his distance as well and tried to respect himself for those three days. however this one girl was just temptation in a bikini; batting her eyes, touching him in all the right places, knowing exactly what to say to win cornelius over and I fear it worked….

ꔛ one kiss outside challenges and connie became allured by this girl. his hands on her body, enjoyed being sweet talk by her, being clouded by everything she says and does. well, ‘til the morning after, he wakes up and realizes how great of a mess he made for himself. he kissed another girl which lead him into a slight panic cause he won’t know how you’ll handle the news; his heart dropped to his ass when he realized how much he disrespected you

ꔛ the recoupling after casa wasn’t the prettiest, even when he didn’t walk in with ole girl. he did enough in casa and bringing that girl back would’ve done more collateral damage. however, when he received news that you knew what happened, he knew he couldn’t recover from it. he became apologetic as you stood there with an emotion that was anything but excited or happy to see him

ꔛ he spent, and I mean DAYSSSSS, winning you back. he would try what eren did and he went above and beyond to win you back. cooking you breakfast, apologizing daily, write notes, pull you for a chat and try to explain himself, tell you how much he missed you during casa, and try to convince you how sorry he was. it hurts him extremely that you’re upset with him instead of joking and smiling with him like you guys used to, and he was even more hurt when he found out how much you cried while casa and after casa

ꔛ america screamed at you to please take him back cause he’s trying to prove himself that he does like you and didn’t wanna hurt you like he did. y/n pleaseeeee take him back, he’s been silently sobbing in his bed for four days cause he missed you :(

ꔛ the recoupling where you did forgive him, oh he almost lost it (in a good way). he almost cried when you chose him cause he misses your presence, your chats, your beauty, everything about you and no one could have replaced that for him. he didn’t want any chance to ruin what y’all built AGAIN, no matter how tempting

ꔛ connie made it to the final four and won WOOOOOO!!! america already loved him but the dedication and his authenticity to win you back made the perfect love story to win america over. I mean who doesn’t love male groveling ;) ?

꒰ REINER BRAUN ꒱

ꔛ THE BIG, SOFT BLONDIE <33333. he’s kind, sweet, a great helper, extremely understanding, and always there for others. he grew such great bonds with everyone and everyone in the villa loved him from day one

ꔛ an og in the villa that seems to be the most favorited but can you blame them? plus, he wears his heart on his sleeve and isn’t afraid to express himself with every person he’s interested in. he enjoyed his chats with everyone but he enjoyed yours the most, you bring this sort of energy that reiner can’t point out but adores it so well

ꔛ he instantly clicked with you from day one and expressed how much he’s interested in getting to know you. ever since then, you guys were joint at the hip and barely leaving each other’s side, and everyone in the villa always comment how much you two complement each other as you’re together

ꔛ he held your hand during your chats, let you lay on him, give you his full attention, giving you everything you need to know how much he’s invested in you. small compliments, breakfast with your fave drink, made you fruit bowls for snacks, given massages here and there, gave you small kisses, the list can go on how much reiner did for you

ꔛ every time the guys joked about how down bad reiner is, he just took it and agreed. he doesn’t mind being mister romantic for his couple, even after bombshells would pull him for dates and/or chats. he always found himself running back to you <3

ꔛ america’s lover boy and they couldn’t hate him one bit and the amount of fangirls he got? oh goodness, now everyone wants a reiner in their life

ꔛ oh reiner hated casa amor, he liked that he let himself experience it but one kiss outside challenges made you realize how much he missed you. he missed being your arms, he missed your smile, he missed your presence that brought him an immense amount of comfort and happiness. he could barely bare being without you

ꔛ thankfully, all the casa girls gave up and stopped trying to go after him from how much he sulked about missing you

ꔛ after casa was a bit….off. reiner was a bit anxious to tell you that he kissed someone and was scared that you were gonna leave him, he couldn’t let that happen! he worked up the courage to tell you and was ready to accept any sort of punishment that could come, including being apologetic until he was back on your good graces

ꔛ you and reiner ended up either being runners up or the winners! america couldn’t get enough of this big softie who had so much admiration and respect for his couple. he didn’t mind the results, he was just ready to get out the villa and make everything official with you <3

꒰ JEAN KIRSTEIN ꒱

ꔛ at first, america wasn’t really a fan of jean, just like with eren. came off a bit conceited but that ddin’t stop anyone to explore jean and they very much didn’t regret it

ꔛ I would say jean is also an og who quickly hit it off with the guys. some of the girls, not as quick or not as close as he wished to be. there was one person whom he wished he hit it off but it just couldn’t click for a period of time (you)

ꔛ it kinda hurt jean a bit that you guys didn’t get along romantically but it didn’t stop him from wanting to explore you with every chance he got. he’d pull you for chats, do small, romantic gestures, anything to get you

ꔛ even as he was coupled up, he made it clear that he was still open until the recoupling where the boys chose. oh jean was elated to be ready to pick you, his speech was so pretty and emphasized his growing crush on you

ꔛ as episodes passed on, they realized how much of a sweetheart jean is. his recoupling speeches were always thought out and held nothing back. he also made it a habit to kiss your cheek every time you guys recoupled

ꔛ there was a time where a bombshell stole jean and he did explore her. however, that was short filled and fizzled into just friends, mans was just too stuck on you

ꔛ mannnn, casa amor, oh casa amor. he didn’t mind going to casa, as he approached it with the mindset that he was just testing yall relationship, right? wrong! those three days lead to jean explore in a way that even he didn’t expect out of him. it’s not that he didn’t care about his couple but he sure tricked himself into that he was testing himself and boy did he fail!!!

ꔛ to make things worse than he already is, he brought a girl back like wtf. as you stood there, looking stunning waiting for jean, he brings in a girl and your heart shattered. you thought he genuinely liked you but now it seems to be a different reality of who jean is

ꔛ jean didn’t explain himself, he tried to but every excuse had himself look lousy. he gave up and couldn’t even look in you the eyes. a tear trickled down on his face as he realized the the damage he has done

ꔛ time after casa, he would give you space but still pull you to tell you how sorry he is. at times, he would ditch his chosen casa girl to apologize and show how sorry he is. additionally, he was quick to cut things off with the girl which didn’t end well…

ꔛ you would question if he was being genuine and did he ever think about you during casa. he said he did and he completely regrets casa for even existing. he spent days upon days to show remorse for what he has done. he didn’t need to and shouldn’t have tested yall connection just to prove something to himself, and he knew that

ꔛ he started to lose faith that he might lose you forever, around the villa sulking and being lowly. even as the boys encouraged him, he couldn’t bear to accept their advice and would instead go to your friends to figure out what to do

ꔛ you did take him back after one night where yall sat in soul ties and he explained how heavy his heart felt from potentially losing you, sighs coming out when he saw that your doesn’t light up when you see him, or how you would dump him and be with another man. it was a hefty speech that that included extreme emotions, ‘I miss you’, ‘please take me back’, lengthy explanations on why you’re the one he wants and not the other girl, how he would change for himself and you. he’s saying anything so you could take him back and thankfully it worked in his favor

ꔛ in the end, jean ended up in third place :). he enjoyed his time in the villa and felt like he came out as better person, to himself and to you. after the villa, you guys continued to grow what you had and became official in the way of a beautiful picnic and a heartfelt love letter

𖥻 I miss writing for aot BADDDDDDD. like yall don’t understand how much I miss writing for my babies 😣

𖥻 here’s how I see it. connie is kordell, reiner is kenny but white, and eren is miguel. change my mind !!

𖥻 I wanted to make connie and reiner’s longer but had to stop myself 🧍🏽‍♀️. blame champagne coast by blood orange

𖥻 bye babes, drink your water and I love you MWAH 💕

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: ephesians 3:20-21. glory to be God, I love Him so much

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 𝗋𝗒𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[moon-my-beloved]

neighbors (tf141 x fem! reader)

part II: company

tw: a bit of obsession and touches from the boys but nothing sexual!! possessiveness. mentions of reader fitting ‘snug’ in a dress but nothing too specific. that’s it. - xoxo

the ride back home was quiet.

silence stretching over the small murmurs of the radio warning people of temperatures dropping along with the sound of the engine running as you drove, grocery bags shoved into the back of the seat.

it really wasn’t until you made it home that you had snapped out of your momentarily dream-like state that you realized what you have done.

you still couldn’t believe it. why couldn’t you just have come up with something, anything to avoid making a fool of yourself with how bad you’re with people.

“oh god,” you groan to yourself. pressing your forehead against the steering wheel with embarrassment taking over your senses. why of all times did you just have to coincidently bump into them?!

you really would’ve preferred it if you had encountered them on a free day and not when you’re trudging around the damn store with your dingy old work clothes. then again, kyle and johnny seemed.. trustworthy at first glance. not to mention how beautiful they were.

they carried an air to them that felt friendly enough but dangerous as well. your brain going blank for a moment when you were surrounded by the two men. an invisible thread luring you into their trap. you don’t know if it was kyles sweet voice or the smell of amber from johnny’s cologne, but they had left you with a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. leaving you in a trance for a split-second before uttering the only syllables you could think of.

blood rushes to your face with shame thinking about them in such ways. how long has it been since you’ve experienced this? clearly long enough from the looks of it. your palms are sweaty, breath a bit short, and your heart is practically beating its way out of your chest like you’re some sort of high school girl being forced to confess to their crush.

you jolt a bit at the sound of a small “buzz” coming from your phone. your eyes almost bulging out of your skull when you unlock your screen— it’s a message from johnny and kyle.

< made a small group chat to make it easier. hope you don’t mind luv.

< we’ll see ye tmrw night, right bonnie?

your fingers hover over the keys, chewing at your bottom lip anxiously as you contemplate how to respond. kyle had mentioned meeting the rest of the team, ignoring how just the thought of talking to them made you want to curl yourself up into a ball until you became invisible. it really wouldn’t hurt to meet them. it will be okay. they were your neighbors for god sake.

taking a deep breath, you typed out what you were going to say.

> sure! sounds good. :)

you barely managed to calm down your nerves before your phone vibrated again.

< atta girl. we’ll see ye at 6.

what did you get yourself into.

you had nearly forgotten how much effort it takes to get ready.

you really weren’t one to wake up early, especially during your off days but today was an exemption. hopping into the shower to shave, exfoliate, moisturize, and pretty much scrub off every crevice from your body as soon as your alarm went off. practically stumbling your way out of the bathroom with how lightheaded you felt by the end of it.

your makeup was next. trying your best to copy a look off of pinterest and almost calling it a day with the many times you had to redo your eyeliner. nevertheless, you had successfully overcome that obstacle. which brings you to your own little dilemma: you had nothing good to wear.

all the clothes varied from old band t-shirts, jeans and sweatpants you wore to laze around. you rarely went out and when you did, it would only be for a short period of time to run some errands or to visit the old bat.

“come on closet, give me something, anything!” cursing to yourself in desperation as you rummaged through the pits of your closet.

after what seemed like forever, your hand grazed against a soft material, pulling it out to reveal a dress. it was no fancy dress but it definitely looked like the better option to wear. it was off-the-shoulder, had long-sleeves, and was long enough to cover your thighs but a bit small around the edges with how snug it felt against your body. it must have been lying around in your closet for who knows how long considering how you have no clue why or when you even bought it.

it felt weird, and new as your ran your hand against the fabric. hesitation soon clouding your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror.

maybe this was a bad idea. you should have said no. you’ll just look weird, now you’re going to make a fool of yours—

—catching glimpse of the time you gasp. shit. no time to mop in your own feelings. quickly and gently pulling the sheer material of your tights over your legs and tying the laces of your boots once you get to the door, doing a quick once-over in front of your mirror before you were out the house. wine in hand as a last minute resort to bring something. a courtesy on your part really.

they were just across from you, why are you so nervous to meet your neighbors? neighbors do this all the time. this is completely normal.

a chill running down your spine with the sudden cold gust of wind brushing over your face even with your coat on. you stood there in front of their door for a bit, subconsciously shifting your weight on each of your legs as you swayed in apprehension.

you can do it. it’s okay, just knock.

taking a deep breath in, you lifted your hand up, planting three solid knocks against the wood of the door and quickly pulling it back once you hear the heavy footsteps of someone coming.

you stiffen once you hear the click of the door opening, your breath catching in your throat as you crane your neck a bit to see the man in front of you.

skull face.

it takes you a moment to recognize who he is now that he’s not wearing a balaclava. instead, he has a black surgical mask adoring his face, just enough to cover most of his features but revealing enough to see the small details. he’s a dirty blonde that’s for sure, making him look less intimidating than when you saw him for the first time. his dark eyes are roaming over your figure, leaving you standing still in fear of some way offending him if you even dared to move just an inch.

he’s wearing a grey long-sleeve shirt, along with a pair of grey joggers. you hope you hadn’t interrupted his sleep with how disheveled his hair looks. he looks comfortable though, questioning your own choice of attire. you might have overdressed.

before you could open your mouth to introduce yourself, a booming voice can be heard from behind the man.

“don’ be scarin’ off our guest, simon!” a toothy grin on his face as he slides next to the taller man. arm wrapping around simon’s waist before letting out a low whistle that makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “well look at ye. so bonnie, m’ glad ye could make it lass, come in. gaz is just finishing up makin’ us dinner.”

nodding, your eyes flicker back at simon as you extend your hand for him to take. “it’s nice to meet you, simon. I, uh, live across from you guys.”a throaty grunt coming from him as he engulfs your hand in his, firmly shaking your hand in return.

they let you in once introductions are over, johnny’s hand hovering over the sole of your back as he follows you into the living room, telling you to get comfortable.

“don’ ye worry, simon doesn’t bite.” looking over at the man with an expression only him and simon would understand as he grabs the wine from your hands, disappearing into the kitchen.

it was awkward to the say the least. silence stretching over the two of you as simon sits across from you on an arm chair, book in his hands and eyebrows scrunched up in concentration.

it went on like that for about a few minutes before simon’s gravely voice cut through the stillness of the room.

“you like it so far?” he asks. the question catching you off guard before realizing what he means. “oh, yes! everyone’s been so nice and welcoming. especially auntie lottie.” a small smile forming on your lips as you recounter your many little dates together.

simon’s eyes crinkle at that, setting the book down beside him as he crosses his arms over his chest. sleeve rolling up a bit to reveal some ink. “‘s there a particular reason why you moved here?”

alarm bells ring in your mind at that. for someone who’s quiet, he sure likes to ask personal questions. you’re new to the neighborhood though, you could understand if he’s wary of you.

“I had some ‘issues’ with my roommate. now ex-roommate,” you say. a deep hum coming from the man across from you as he tilts his head to the side. “can’t say i don’t know what that feels like. have to deal with these muppets all the time.”

you can’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head in amusement. “for some reason I doubt they’re any worse than the person I lived with.”

“must have been a hell of a roommate then. you’ve peaked my interest sweetheart.” simon’s shoulders relaxing from their tense position once he heard the sweet sound of your laughter.

he had to admit, he was wrong about you. you were not who he envisioned you to be. his own skepticism plaguing his mind when gaz and soap came through the door with news about the new neighbor. johnny gushing about how much of a sweet thing you were and kyle nodding in agreement as he listened. price leaning against the wall as he watched the whole thing with a raised eyebrow.

“we have tae invite her over ghost. you’ll like her, ah promise.”

he was ready to decline the offer. ready to scold johnny for even suggesting inviting a stranger over, especially one he and price hadn’t met before. yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. seeing how johnny eyes practically screamed please and how kyle’s own head leaned against his chest as he stared at him.

“I don’t see a problem with it.” price said, giving simon a small shrug as he sipped on his tea.

jaw clenching, he sighed.

“fine.”

now looking at you, he understands why the boys took interest in you. you were gorgeous. a nervous thing. you reminded him of a scruffy kitten with how skittish and bad you were at holding eye contact. your fingers picking at the fabric of your tights that will surely leave a rip by the end of the night. he had a feeling price will love a pretty doll like you.

he knew you lived alone. johnny and kyle had suspected you did and it didn’t take long for him and price to figure out you had no one to come home to with how much of a chatter box auntie lottie could be.

and for some reason the thought of you being alone left him with an annoying itch in his brain. an itch that had his fists curling until his knuckles turned white as he stared at you. who would leave such a sweet thing like you all alone?

“simon?” your voice cuts through his thoughts. eyes flickering towards you as your warm palm lays against his knee. eyes furrowing in confusion as you stare at him with those pretty eyes. “are you okay?”

“‘m fine. don’t worry, luv.” your lips turning into a small smile as you retreat your hand, fighting the urge to grab you and hold you against him forever.

silence falls between you again. your palms sweating a bit as you feel simon’s eyes on you.

your attention is soon ripped away from your hands as you hear the door opening, revealing the older man from a few days ago.

mutton chops.

he looks better up close. beard nicely trimmed and kind eyes as he stares at you. he has his winter clothes on. beanie on top of his head along with a jacket and cargo pants.

placing the grocery bags he was carrying on the counter next to the door as he makes his way next to simon.

“and who might this be?” he asks, staring down at you as you scramble to stand up and walk towards him. stuttering a small introduction as you extend your hand which he takes and brings closer to his face. staring wide-eyed as he presses a small kiss against the skin before he lets you go.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you. the boys have been talking about you.” he says, letting out a gruff chuckle as he takes the beanie off his head.

“i hope good things, sir.” you return with a tight smile. a small snort can be heard next to him as simon tilts his chin down to hide his laughter. mutton chops sending him a hard glare before returning his attention back to you.

“just call me john, darlin’. we are all friends here, right?” you can only nod, muttering a small apology before kyle and johnny come walking back to the living room, announcing that dinner is ready.

kyle brings you into a hug, pressing a small kiss against the side of your face between your jaw and neck that has you sucking in your breath.

“I’m so glad you could make it. I hope you’re hungry, i made a big feast.” his hands lingering a bit before johnny slides next to him, pushing him a bit to the side.

“kyle an’ simon are our little chefs of the house.” sending a teasing look at their direction as simon just rolls his eyes while kyle pulls johnny in for a quick kiss. your face heating up as you’re smushed between their bodies.

“stop hovering’ over the bird and let’s eat. we all are hungry.” price says, gently pulling you close to him as he leads you to the dinner table. the boys following behind them as you hear johnny and kyle wince at simon smacking them on the back of their head.

dinner goes smoothly. the men talking amongst each other where you stay quiet for the most part but are quick to shoot a response when they ask questions.

oblivious to the way their gaze never wavers every time you speak.

your tummy full with all the delicious food kyle made that had you moaning with every bite. kyle biting his lip to hide the small grin forming with how he preened in satisfaction.

with everyone occupied with their food, you took the moment to analyze all of them. there’s definitely a strong relationship between the four men.

price reaching out to squeeze kyle’s hand in appreciation by the end of dinner as the younger man just sends him a fond look.

johnny and simon were practically glued by the hip. soap naturally brushing his hand against simon’s thigh every time he talked or made a horrible dad joke which you couldn’t help but laugh every single time. they all fitted with one another like a puzzle. a small glow coming from them with all the gazes and smiles they shared.

at times you felt like you were an intruder watching from outside the glass, and maybe it was envy you felt. not towards the men but towards the love and devotion they had for one another. they were all beautiful and you were the ugly duckling of the group.

you had gone quiet without you realizing it, price touching your shoulder as you jolted in surprise. turning your head towards him as you’re met with a soft gaze. “we lost you there for a minute, love.”

“i.. I’m sorry. I kinda got lost in thought.” you say, offering a little laugh as you gulp down the last of your wine. god, how much have you drunk to get this emotional over something so meaningless?

if john notices the way your voice wavers or the way you eyes gloss over, he doesn’t comment on it. instead, asking kyle and johnny to take you to the couch to watch a movie as him and simon clean the dishes. ignoring your protests in helping and shutting you up with a stern look.

johnny pinches your cheek as you sulk like a child for not being able to help. “you’re our guest silly. would be rude tae make ye work.” setting you down on the comfy couch, blanket in hand as he sits to your right and kyle to your left. squished between their warm bodies.

“get comfortable, princess.” kyle murmurs beside you, the hairs on your neck standing with how close he is. wondering if they could hear goat fast your heart is beating.

the boys insist in you to pick the movie, settling on watching the “elf” with christmas just around the corner. you try your very best to stay focused on the tv screen, ignoring the way johnny ever so often lightly brushes his fingers against your shoulder with how he rests his arm around the back of the couch. or the way kyle brushes his leg against your thigh, sending you an innocent simple every time you look his way.

at some point in the middle of the movie, your eyes grow heavy. your body fighting the urge to shut down after a long week of work. you soon lose the battle, the mixture of both kyle and johnny’s warmness, their scents, soft touches and way of making you feel relaxed win over your consciousness.

you think you feel a soft blanket drape itself on you along with your shoes being removed. the faintest touch against your cheek before you drift to sleep.

“goodnight mo luaidh.”

a/n: I’m not very proud of this one but i tried my best. 😓 please let me know if there’s anything i should fix/improve on. love ya! <33

[riddlesrizzler]

mattheo riddle x hufflepuff! reader

headcanons of mattheo with hufflepuff! reader warnings: lots of fluff! mentions of not liking hufflepuffs. smoking mentioned. smut. but like super gentle and fluffy first time. mattheo being a simp.

grumpy x sunshine vibe

𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵

mattheo riddle didn’t like people, scratch that, he doesn’t like people period. for the longest time he wouldn’t really make an effort with anyone unless they were in his inner circle of slytherin friends. he didn’t see a point to communicate with other houses. especially hufflepuffs.

he saw the yellow house as weak. something about their friendly attitude and the stupid smiles on their faces made him want to punch something and he often did.

but when he got in trouble for enchanting the mandrakes to storm the gryffindor tower at three in the morning, he was forced to help you take care of the magical creatures.

he didn’t know you, convinced himself that he was going to have a bad time. that nothing could be worse then spending the next two weeks with a hufflepuff of all people as he trudged his way down to hagrid’s hut.

but he seemed to feel his heart squeeze, like a snake had wrapped around it and started to compress the organ into two when he heard your laughter.

he cautiously made his way towards the hut only to see you cuddling a niffler. the sight of the tiny creature in your arms, a smile painted on your lips as you looked down at the niffler with such warmth made something in his brain snap.

“oh no”

literally mattheo had never met anyone like you. you were soft, sweet, a ball of sunshine wrapped into a beautiful package. he could often find himself asking the gods how on earth this angel had fallen from the heavens? and more importantly why wasn’t she scared of me?

mattheo was aware of his reputation of practically scaring the piss out of anyone if they looked at him for too long, but with you. oh with you, the sweet hufflepuff you were, you didn’t bat an eye at his last name or the bruises on his knuckles.

but you seemed to be this way with everyone. he had observed you in class, in the great hall, with your friends. his brown eyes followed every step that you took. watching as you turned to lend a hand to those who needed it, going out of your way to make someone smile, even to people who had casted you rude glances.

of course, it took some time for him to fully warm up to you. in some odd, backwards way, he was intimidated by you. but once he finally let down some of the walls he had managed to keep up, he found the dark corners of his soul starting to glow.

mattheo asked you out by staying up all night to bake cookies, just like the ones that you would make for him. only, he wasn’t very good at baking.

even with the help of theo, who had read the wrong ingredients. enzo, who kept eating the ingredients. draco, who kept getting confused by muggle baking. and blaise, who was rubbing is temples the entire time. the cookies still looked less than appetizing.

he expected you to throw them away, saying how gross they looked and that you never date someone like him. but when he saw the way that your eyes lit up at the gesture, your arms pulling him into a hug. he felt like he had finally had done something right.

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱

when you both officially started dating. he was extremely cautious. almost scared that he was going to shatter you with one wrong move. he was used to destroying things with his fingers. but he didn’t want to do that to you. in fact he felt the opposite, he wanted to protect you from the cruel and harsh world that he knew.

let’s face it, matty boy is going to be a little over protective and jealous at first, actually probably for forever, but he keeps it hidden. you’re the good thing in his life, his angel, his sunshine. if anything ever happened to your pure soul, mattheo would rip the world apart.

he would be really sweet about it though. always concerned for your safety. he almost had a heart attack when you were petting a dragon during care of magical creatures. but watching you in your element seemed to ease his nerves, for the most part.

“darling? can you take a step back from the dragon? oh for merlin’s sake- please?”

he would have a total soft spot for you too. his signature glare seemed to turn on as he grazed through the hallways, but once he spotted you. all of the tension melted from his muscles.

i also believe that he wouldn’t smoke around you either. whether it was because you hated the smell or the fact that you hated to see him poison his body, he tried to cut back for you. it was so hard to say no to you when you had those big puppy dog eyes and that pouty lip as you whined about his health.

and don’t get me started on all of the homemade gifts he has from you displayed in his room. sweet homemade cards littered his walls. the knitted scarf that you had made for him for his birthday, sat slung across his chair. the little plush snake that you had crocheted sat in the middle of his bed, after you insisted that it would get lonely if he put it anywhere else.

mattheo riddle was a total sap for you. he found himself liking the color yellow because it reminded him of you. he kept a picture of you in his wallet at all times. the lucky scrunchie you gave him before a big quidditch match was always on his wrist. mattheo was completely in love with you.

“i fucking love you, sunshine”

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹

when mattheo found out that you were a virgin. oh merlin. he was consumed with the most intense amount of anxiety as he didn’t want to hurt you, he didn’t want it to be bad either.

before you, mattheo was strict with his hookups. only used to relieve pent up frustrations. he couldn’t do that for you. never with you.

you had to reassure him multiple times when you were ready to give yourself to him. only for him to ask you a million times if you were absolutely sure about it.

when the time finally did come, and you were sprawled onto his bed. your hair fluttered around you and onto his pillow, you wearing a white lacy set that made you seem like an earth angel. the way you bit your lip and looked up at him through your lashes, could have supplied him with images for the rest of his life.

“oh how lucky to be in the presence of a goddess”

his touches were careful. he wanted to make sure you felt good. so he took his time sucking on your neck. finding the sensitive spots that made you moan louder.

his hands were shaky when he took off his own clothes. barely even registering the cool air as his eyes were glued onto you taking off your bra. mattheo bit his own lip in order to make sure he wasn’t drooling.

his rough and calloused hands running over your supple flesh before dipping his head down to kiss all over your skin. relishing in the glory when you arched up into his touch.

when the time had finally come where both of you were completely bare. he was gentle. whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he guided himself into you. he swears that he almost loses it when he feels you trying to adjust to him.

“fuck baby, you’re so tight. gonna make you feel so good”

he waited for your signal. when you nodded your head is only when he began to slowly move his hips. groaning when you’re nails dug into his shoulders.

your whimpers started to turn into moans, and you kept encouraging mattheo to give you more. to make you feel more. and mattheo was more than happy to oblige as his head was buried into the crook of your neck.

when he felt your thighs start to shake, your moans becoming louder, he knew you were close. he lifted his head to look at you. and my gods, mattheo swears he has never seen anything more beautiful then when you’re flushed, biting your lip, your eyes squeezed shut. it nearly draws him to the edge.

but of course, mattheo is a gentleman with you. so he makes sure you finish before he finally thrusts forward, slumping over slightly as the two of you try to catch your breath.

he makes sure to pull you into his arms. despite the fact that both of you are slightly sweaty, he wants to tell you how amazing you did and how prefect you are.

“angel, you did absolutely perfect. are you okay? how are your legs?”

you, a sweet hufflepuff, that mattheo had assumed he would’ve hated. had turned the great son of voldemort into mush. you were his great weakness, a light in the cold and dark world that he had once lived in. you were his everything.

“you are my only sunshine”

[porcalinecunt]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 jason meets a single father, desperate for a chance at love again. little did you know, you’re right up his alley! ~

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, dilf!reader, red hood! jason in mind, age gap [reader is in his 30s while jason is 23] mentions of divorce, sexting, doggy style, implied size differences, breeding, jason wants to knock you up so bad omfg

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ this was lowkey a little self indulgent but can you blame me? no. now shush and enjoy <3

ᥫ᭡. — jason todd never really cared about his dating life, and really why should he? getting blown up, resurrected and busting some heads open keeps a man busy! if he’s not dealing with black mask’s goons or the bat himself, you can find him in the nearest diner enjoying his own company. that is of course..until he laid eyes on you.

ᥫ᭡. — alone and pretty, you sat at the bar stood a couple feet away from him. staring down at the empty pit of your dark coffee, you’re heart heavy and tears threatening to spill out. jason, while having a hard outer, still had a little heart to scotch over and struck up small talk with you. after all, he did say it himself that he is a good listener! after some innocent chatter, you finally allowed the friendly face to fall and began to vent to the stranger. you’re recent yet messy divorce from your ex-husband, the juvenile drama he brought, the exhausting routine of juggling work with your daughter—wait. you had a daughter?! jason eyes widened, finally allowing himself the realization. you were one hell of a dilf! <3

ᥫ᭡. — despite being nearly a decade apart in age, you looked so damn good. tired eyes peering upwards at him with that adorable, gentle smile. fuck, you were so small compared to him. he could’ve easily picked you up and threw you over his huge shoulders and just take you away, back to his place. his bed. he couldn’t stop the lewd images from flooding his head, you taking his girth in that pretty mouth or face down while he dicked you down doggy style. you’d make the prettiest noises while he breeds your pretty pussy full, only to flip you onto your back and ass fuck you until you ruin the sheets.

ᥫ᭡. — fuck it. he thought to himself as you walked out of the diner happier then before, and with his number too! the next few weeks, every text the vigilante sent you made you feel more in love then your last marriage could’ve gave you. of course, the conversation didn’t stay innocent for long. soon, jason began to open his texts to pictures of you in the sexiest lingerie, you’re legs spread open to show off your needy cunt. strip tease pictures at your workplace’s restrooms in your uniform, and the audios…you’d send him a particularly lewd audio of you fucking yourself with one of your many sex toys you’ve stashed away, moaning jason’s name and begging him to come over and satiate your neglected desires. safe to say, he drove like a madman to your house the next night your daughter is with a sitter.

“o-oh jason! don’t stop please..!”

just like the way he wanted, you face down and ass high up for him to fuck your cunt stupid while you moaned like a bitch in heat. your cute cheeks were littered with his giant handprints from his harsh spankings. you were fuckin’ perfect.

“mm keep talking baby, takin’ me so well like a good little boy yeah?”

jason knew the comedic irony of calling you, an older man, a little boy. yet the name made you clench around his girth with a sigh of pleasure leaking through your drooling lips. you loved that name, a lot. something that snapped the rope of control in two, unleashing an insatiable nature that only existed in his disgusting fantasies.

jason pulled out, grabbing you by your upper body before practically manhandling you onto your back. before you could even make a noise, the young man pressed his whole weight against yours and sunk his cock into you until he was already balls deep. taking it from behind was a challenge in itself, yet he outdid himself once again as a strained moan tore itself out of your throat.

“shhh..” jason’s shushes tickled your ear, drowning out your shakey whines. “relax baby, can’t fuck a baby in you if your squirmin’ like that.”

oh..oh shit. it was enough to have you clench around his girth as he snapped his hips against yours with an unforgiving pace. a pace that spoke more then whatever came out of his mouth. nothing but promises of another baby, a sibling for your little girl from a man you met in a diner not long ago.

“just like that! like that ja..son! oh god!”

nails raked against the bare skin of his back as your felt that familiar yet distant feeling of your orgasm inching closer and closer, eyes rolled to your brain as jason kept spewing out profanities and coos of faux sympathy.

“shiiit, can’t believe you’re husband left you baby. i would’ve knocked you up every chance i got, treat you like a damn prince..”

he was right, you’re husband never gave you sex this good nor did he spoke such words that went straight into your cunt. every praise, every groan and grunt jason let out pushed you closer and closer..until you finally snapped.

“j-ja-SON! MMM FUCK!”

you gushed all over the vigilante’s cock as he painted your pussy white, breeding you until you couldn’t hold another drop in. the pleasure could’ve damn well nearly killed you as you laid there near unconscious and panting like a dog. jason, however, was only getting started.

“don’t think i’m done with you yet boy..it ain’t over till you’re kid has a sibling.”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[bapeach]

Fast break feelings

Sorry for not posting much lately, writing hasn't been easy. So here's a short and sweet story, hope y'all like it! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :)

Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader Word count: 1.5k+ Summary: Paige, the confident superstar on the court, gets shy when her crush is near.

------------

When you first met Paige in your human development class, you thought she was cute in a platonic way. She’d walked into class looking incredibly cozy in a lilac sweatsuit with her matching purple glasses, with a soft smile and sleepy eyes. Even though she was the most famous girl in school, she didn’t act like she was better than anyone. You never really cared for sports but still thought it was cool that the blonde was bringing a lot of attention to basketball. She seemed like she deserved the praise too.

Paige walked over to her assigned seat next to you, giving you a tiny nod, her lips relaxed into a small smile. You smiled sweetly at her before focusing your attention on the professor. While most classes started with lame icebreakers, this professor didn’t care about them and instead simply started teaching. Meaning Paige didn’t learn your first name until a few weeks into the school year, after many small nods and smiles and a few “Can I borrow a pen?” moments, when you were put into pairs of two for a project. 

“Hi, I’m Paige, by the way,” was the first thing she said as she turned towards you and held out her hand. “Oh, I know, Superstar,” you’d grinned with a playful twinkle in your eye. “I’m Y/N.” Though you didn’t realize it back then, that handshake marked the start of the slowly growing crush between you two.

Quiet study sessions in the library turned into movie nights in the comfort of your dorm, cuddled up together (in a friendly way) on your couch, your hearts starting to beat as one. 

---------

While Paige exudes confidence and charisma on the basketball court and in front of cameras, she’s pretty shy in person. Whereas she prefers peaceful nights in, you shine the brightest on a night out in the club. You don’t mind her shyness, though, you actually think it’s kind of sweet. You love seeing her cheeks turn a soft pink as she fumbles over her words when you give her a tight hug. Seeing her turn away with a flustered smile as you compliment her with a flirty wink always sends butterflies through your stomach. 

It didn’t take long for you to realize you have a big fat crush on her, and once you did, you quickly noticed the blonde’s crush as well. Now, you could’ve just asked her out on a date, but where’s the fun in that? Instead, you up the flirty comments, the lingering touches, and the doe-eyed “I’m so in love with you” looks. During binge marathons, you cuddle Paige a bit closer, at lunch, you plop into her lap without batting an eye, and the selfies with cheeky comments you send her get a bit riskier every time.

While the athlete usually runs her mouth and talks trash like her life depends on it, she can barely give a compliment without stuttering or doubting herself. She’s also one of the most clueless people you know. You flirt with her like there’s no tomorrow for 2 weeks before you grow impatient and pull out all the stops. 

You’re walking next to Paige as you make your way out of your class. You listen to her ramble about her latest practice before linking your pinky with hers. The blonde gets tongue-tied at the unexpected touch, looking at you with her eyes wide. You give her a sweet smile as you nod at what she’s saying. Heat creeps up her neck and turns her ears red as you tilt your head innocently.

You pull her to the side of the hallway, out of the stream of students, before pulling out a small mirror and reapplying your lip gloss. You take your time, watching Paige out of the corner of your eye as her eyes dart to the shine on your lips. She bites her lip for a moment before standing up a bit straighter.

“Gotcha,” you think as you try not to smirk.

“Hey, so, uh, I was thinking that, uh… Maybe, if you want, we could go to, like,… a restaurant or something?” Paige stammers as she scratches her neck. Her face turns an even brighter color as she realizes how stupid she sounds. You bite your lip as you try not to laugh at her struggling.

“You want to go get food right now?” You ask, batting your lashes at her, pretending you don’t know what she means. You know you shouldn’t tease her too much and just be glad she finally got the courage to ask you out, but you can’t help it. Seeing this nervous version of her is just too adorable to just let go.

“No, I mean, like… We should get dinner sometime… Just the two of us… together.” You watch her throat as she swallows nervously. “What, like a date?” You ask as you try to catch her eye. Paige pauses for a moment, her eyes trained on the floor, before she shakes her head with a frown.

“I-... You know what, never mind… I need to go,” she says before quickly stepping away from you. You reach out your hand to pull her closer again, but you don’t get the chance as she disappears into the crowd passing by. “Paige, hold up!” You say, but it’s too late. You facepalm softly before letting out a tiny laugh. How can she be such a big, tough basketball player, yet also such a sweet, shy girl? How can she be so brilliant on the court and in school, yet still be such an oblivious idiot when it comes to you?

When you text the blonde later that night to ask if she wants to come over for a movie night, she declines the invitation with the excuse of having a lot of homework. You shrug it off, knowing that the girl has a habit of leaving her work until the last minute. When Paige is “too busy” to hang out for the 5th day in a row, you’re done with her lies.

You plan on going straight to her dorm after class when you see her walking ahead of you in the hallways. You speed up a bit until you’re right next to her before bumping your shoulder against hers. The taller girl immediately turns towards you to apologize (even though you bumped into her) before realizing it’s you. The color immediately drains from her face as she looks around for an excuse to get away.

“There you are! I haven’t seen you in ages. You left mid-convo last time I saw you,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes, but you make sure to give her a big grin. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” she mumbles as she quickens her step. You simply loop your arm around hers as you bring her back to your speed. “So… when and where?” You casually ask, leaning even more into her personal space as you move out of the way for another student. 

“I- What?” Paige asks, her breath hitching as the smell of your perfume enters her nose. “You wanted to get dinner, right? Or do you not want to anymore? I mean, that would be fine, but if you do, I’d really love to go,” you reply calmly, holding eye contact so she knows you mean it. “Wait, you really wanna go?” She asks, an excited but slightly unsure grin forming on her face as she looks down at the strings of her hoodie. “What, like a date?” You repeat the question you asked a few days ago. 

The blonde’s eyes snap towards you, a small huff leaving her lips once she sees your teasing smile. She rolls her eyes before bringing you both to a stop in an empty corner. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not,” she mumbles, chewing nervously on one of her hoodie strings.

You lean up, pulling the string out of her mouth and straightening her hood. “You’re always so nervous around me…” you sigh softly, staring at the cords as you twirl one around your finger. 

“It’s just me,” you reassure her in a low voice. “Ask me again.” Once you look back into her bright blue eyes, Paige swallows once before speaking, “Y/N… Will you go on a date with me?”

You give her a loving smile as you reply, “I’d love nothing more, P.” You lean forward, getting on your tippy-toes, as you press a small kiss against the blonde’s rapidly reddening cheek. You don’t tease her this time, instead grabbing her hand and pulling her back into the hallway as you guide her towards your dorm. You don’t have to look at her to know her eyes are sparkling and her bottom lip is stuck between her teeth as she tries to hold back a big smile.

As your hands swing between your bodies, you ramble about a new show you found that you two just have to watch, making Paige realize she’d been so nervous for no reason. When you make eye contact with her, you simply wink at her like this is the most normal thing in the world.

[adreamfromnevermore]

Headcanon that the Bats must be the most infuriating members of the justice league. And it's got nothing to do with what they do or don't know or even their general skills and egos. Everyone is very used to Batman and the expectation that him and any of his spawn are somehow going to be three steps ahead of any issue they bring to the table ever.

No no, the infuriating bit? The stalking.

Listen, this is a family of freaks and weirdos. They work so well together because none of them were normal to start with and then they ended up traumatized. It's practically common practice in that family to accept that nothing is what it seems at face value and that all of your siblings are attempting to pry into your private life and cases at any given moment. I think for them it's honestly weirder if you take what they say at face value. They speak a language holy separate from any normally socialized person and it is a language of lies and half-truths that relies on the assumption that all parties are aware of that.

They're the most infuriating bitches around.

They'll tell someone something and appear to do the opposite and when confronted will have the most convoluted but sound reasoning of why they actually did exactly as they promised too.

They regularly pick people's pockets and hack into personal information because for them? That's practically a love language. They're obnoxious and they aren't even aware of it. Someone asks them to just tell the truth and they react like they've been shot. They're probably offended when they realize that someone hasn't been at least attempting to dig into them back, like come on man. I thought we were friends but you didn't even Google how long Nightwings been around? We've already put the bar on the floor for you guys? My siblings already have a full dossier ready on you because they caught us on camera in your home city during that 2 minute conversation we had 3 months ago. They sent it to me a few hours later. I think they got Oracle to help cause usually it takes them at least 12 hours.

You think they're being nice and friendly and then you realize that they have a nice little file compiled of everything you've done in the last five years, where you went to school and every note your teachers ever made about your behavior a decade ago when you were still a high schooler and fairly normal. If asked they'd probably be willing to bring out the family tree they built for you. They know what you did last summer better than you know what you did last summer. They have pictures, pictures that should be impossible because there's no way they were stalking you then and those sure don't look like security camera footage.

In reality Bats and Superman get along so well because that man is an investigative journalist and when they first met he could not leave it alone. Bruce was charmed the first time Clark Kent started doggedly attempting to ask him if he knew anything about Gothams new cryptid. It was cute how off base he was. But he was trying!!!! Bruce was sold for life! He dropped an dossier on lexcorp off in Clarks apartment a few days later. As a gift.

[ssahotchnerr]

Hotch x BAU!reader where maybe it’s their first Christmas together and reader is trying to be sneaky asking everyone what to get hotch/if he’ll like what they got him & he overhears and is just mush because of course he’s going to like what you buy him 😞😞😞 you thought of him and wanted him to have it how could he not like it

a gift that keeps on giving

cw; fem bau!reader, established relationship, some suggestive remarks/themes, fluff 🥰🥰 wc; 1.1k

A string of garland adorned with twinkling lights, undoubtedly Garcia's doing, paved Aaron's way. Draped on the walls, they colorfully led him down the hallway towards his destination; while he also offered stiff, yet friendly nods to the colleagues he passed.

It had been a quiet yet busy work day, full of end of year paperwork. The team had been rifling through case reports and settling stagnant matters all morning, a necessity before January.

Upon organizing one of his desk drawers, Aaron had found miscellaneous papers that would serve Garcia more purpose than he. So he decided to take a breather, stretch his legs, and venture down to Penelope's bat cave to hand them over.

Her door was slightly ajar as he neared, and before he could raise his knuckle to announce his presence, he heard your voice coming from inside, causing him to halt.

"Penny, I really don't know." You frustratedly admitted, and just by the tone Aaron could visualize the strained look on your face - the muscles in your forehead pulled taut, your eyes laced with trouble. "I'm awful."

Penelope scoffed in response, a tame laugh accompanying her release of air. The click-clacking of her keyboard was also present, "I wouldn't go that far."

A knot tightened in his stomach, a silent unease. Awful was not amongst the words he would use to describe you, ever. So the reason as to why you claimed such, he had no idea. Was something terribly wrong? Was it girl drama? Him drama?

He considered leaving, giving Garcia the files at a later time. As this conversation was happening in private, it didn't sound too dire, so his gut told him to remain. He leaned a bit closer to the open crack, straining his ears to hear the conversation inside.

In addition, he also nervously tossed a look behind his shoulder every so often, to ensure no one caught him subtly lurking.

"And I guarantee you Aaron," You said, which caused his ears to perk more, crossing your arms against your chest. "Isn't having the same dilemma."

His confused expression, as well was your frustration, was soon interrupted by a laugh exiting you. It was the pure, genuine one that could turn Aaron's day around in a second, one he couldn't help but smile at. Even now, the sides of his lips lifted.

"Don't give me that look!"

"Sorry, sorry! I'm so used to hearing Hotch that hearing anyone referring to him as his government name catches me by surprise. Like, we're talking about him? Boss man? And in a lovey dovey way too? It's so oddly foreign in the best possible way."

"But what should I get him?" Your tone faltered, the lightness leaving it again as your foot lightly stomped against the carpet.

It dawned on him, clarity filling his mind. Christmas. You were inquiring on what to get him, in result of being stuck, and enlisted Penelope for assistance.

"Rhetorically, this should be easy." You confessed as your tone switched once more - the affection gushing in your voice, as you gushed about him. "He's a simple man. Practical. And after this year, or call it the profiler in me whatever, I feel as if I know him better than I know myself. But when it comes to thinking of a gift, I'm drawing a blank. A complete blank."

"Well you can't go wrong with... a new tie? You know he'll get many uses out of that. Or just clothes to begin with. If you know him so well, you know what he looks good in. Like that one blue button-up you got him!"

Aaron's expression quirked. Thanks Garcia.

"Yeah..." You agreed, chewing on your lower lip in thought. "But that's safe. Not special."

"Oh!" A devious smile graced Penelope's face, swiveling in her chair and she playfully grabbing onto your arm. "How about you become the gift. Surprise him with a new lingerie set? Have him unwrap you."

Blush immediately crept onto Aaron's cheeks at Garcia's suggestion, one he could get behind. The image of you in such attire clouded his mind pleasantly. His breath caught in his throat, and he forced himself to swallow. Cool it, Aaron.

"Noted." You laughed and meant it, sobering for a moment before continuing. "But that's more of a birthday, anniversary type present. Not something he can open under the tree Christmas morning."

"Eh, if you say so sunshine. I don't think you can go wrong with that. It'll be the gift that keeps on giving."

Enticing thoughts aside, Aaron's face softened; a delicate, warm feeling starting in the middle of his chest and spreading outward.

Although he wished you weren't so conflicted, and despite how much he wanted to march in there, and insist you needn't worry, he felt tremendously touched that you cared to such an extent.

Anything you gave him, anything, would be special as it came from you. Truthfully, he wasn't surprised you had hit a wall in terms of ideas. Just as you said, you knew him perfectly - he wasn't a materialistic type. He himself couldn't recall one thing he wanted.

Mainly because he already had all he ever longed for. You.

Just being able to say he was yours was the greatest gift of all. The past year has been unexpected, just as you had been. Admittedly, even since you joined the BAU, he had a soft spot for you. There was something about you that had intrigued him from the start.

Not only were you kind, considerate, but you brought possibility back into his life. His always negative what ifs, had turned into what ifs, in a newfound light, because of you. You taught him to be open to all life had to offer again.

After hour paperwork sessions in his office led to late night dinners - at any joint that was still open. They then turned into not-so-late night dinners, when he finally took the initiative to ask you on a proper date. It unraveled from there - you met Jack, resulting in an effortless bond. You and Aaron quickly made things official, and it only took you six short months to move in.

You made him feel as if, somehow, loving him was easy. That with all his baggage considered, you still viewed him as someone worth loving.

Again, what more could he ask for besides that?

You exhaled as you straightened your posture, pushing past your frustrations and remaining optimistic. "Well, I'm sure I'll figure it out. I still have plenty of time, right?"

"Oh sweetie I'm positive you will. It'll strike you outta nowhere and you'll be thinking why didn't I just think of this in the first place." Penelope waved her hand in the air, unbothered. "I'm not worried. Whatever it is, you know he'll love it."

And come December 25th, Aaron entirely did.

[messenger-of-babel]

Bruce Wayne Who...

Summary: Thoughts about your relationship with Bruce Wayne.

Word Count: 1.6K

Notes: So Sorry for the longgg absence. I won't explain it too much but I've had serious health complications that require me to go to the doctor weekly and I've been struggling with that a lot. Half of the Christmas event unpublished stories are done- but I don't want to upload them half baked. I will be uploading them around my original schedule of normal fics, so I'm so sorry this all happened while I was doing that Christmas Countdown. So if you see unseasonal content- that is why. I will ask to refer to the notes section of some of the fics before this. I will be trying to deliver more- please be patient and thank you for reading! (I'm working on my requests next so you'll seen them soon <333)

Love RiRi <3

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Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

had sworn off dating. Being a vigilante was enough work on his plate, and he had already involved too many innocent people. He had already made too many people join him in on his night life, like he was a black hole that sucked in anything around it and slowly suffocated its prey. The playboy image also helped him keep his cover up. After all, who could dare point a finger at Bruce Wayne and claim him to be the Bat, when he was spending the night at the Iceberg Lounge? How could he be the one tracking down criminals from Arkham when he had a supermodel on his arm at the mayor’s winter gala?

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Has to throw that all out of the window the moment that he catches sight of you. When he meets your eyes for only a moment across the sea of people at the Gotham Museums grand reopening, to which he had donated personal items of his family's. His heart lurches in his chest and adrenaline courses through his veins like he's in a fight. You look away after a moment, but he stays fixed on your form as you disappear to talk to some of the curators. Bruce takes a deep sip of his champagne; mind muddled suddenly and distracted the rest of the evening as Alfred drives him home.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Still doesn't think that it's love that has him. He's a stoic man deep down, with the facade of a charming smile and a friendly arm around the shoulders. He doesn't consider it love when he goes out as Bruce Wayne more often, taking impromptu visits to the museum once he discovered that you were an employee there. He doesn't even call it infatuation when Alfred points it out to him. It was merely him making sure that the billionaire image remained intact, and that he was in the public eye.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Eventually caves and admits his feelings to himself, head in his hands one night. His skin is a storyboard of scars that criss cross lines across his chest and arms. He had tried to brush it off originally as just his playboy persona finding a good alibi for future reference, but late-night thoughts on rooftops had cleared his head. This was the true him that liked you, the scarred black hole that was undoubtedly going to try to drag you in and suck you of what light you had. He spends the night with an anguished heart, trying so hard to contain the ache that had begun to settle there every time he thought about not approaching you.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Practically fawns when he catches you at work, stumbling over his words as he catches you at the end of your shift. He regains his composure and manages to ask you out quietly, giving you an out if you said no. He felt like some teenager, red faced and anxious. He had fought the Joker countless times, stared down Bane and left with his ribs beaten blue. Yet this somehow made his hands shake, hiding in his pockets. The anxiety all but evaporates when you give him a chance, letting him know your address and to pick you up at six that evening. His head felt light, like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. His breath heaves out in a sigh, and he nods, agreeing and promising to send a car around at six. He left the museum that day grinning ear to ear, and this time it wasn't his persona doing the smiling for him.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Spoils you as much as he can when you give him the green light. After you've tested the waters and have been dating for a few months, he's enamoured. He bought your apartment for you outright and changed the deed to be in your name, so you never had to worry about rent. Bruce doesn’t want anything in return, he just wants you to be safe and happy. Not that he's really been a man of words, the written mess of symbols and letters clog up his throat when he tries to speak. No, he'd rather explain his affection for you in deep stares and gentle hands on your shoulder of back. He loves that you aren’t deceived by the callouses or the rough texture of his palm. He loves that despite the nicks and scars and occasional bruises on his knuckles that you don’t shy away from the coarseness that emanates from him, your body leans in and relaxes instead. He loves that you make him feel softer than he is.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Can't bring himself to tell you that he's Batman but wishes to do so desperately when he sees you lying next to him in bed. You're still fast asleep wrapped in the sheets, arm tucked under the pillow as he gazes down at you. He wonders what you'd do if he shook you awake gently, if your nose would scrunch up as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. If you would be more irritated or concerned at being roused from sleep. He wants to show you all of him. After all, you're the person that's come closest to seeing the real Bruce he thought he lost years ago. Yet when he thinks too hard on it, he feels sick, like he's leading you on. He can't tell you who he is on nights you aren't tucked in next to him, when he's out on the street. He can't tell you that everyone in this family is in on one big secret, and that there are shared glances and knowing looks traded behind your back. He feels like a liar.

He is one.

He wants to not lie anymore, to involve you into his fold. He had come close once, before Dick pulled him aside and told him it was probably for the best that he didn't. But Dick wasn't here now, was he? He could just reach out and-

His hand hovers as he reaches for you. No, Dick was right. This was for the best.

So, he lies down next to you again and drapes an arm over your middle, convincing himself to sleep it off.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Considers keeping you in his life forever once the tabloids start running marriage speculations about you both. You've been dating for a while and recently have been out of the public eye. Of course, you were just sick, but a few weeks off were enough to substantiate rumours of eloping and a honeymoon. He can’t deny that he thought of it when he made public appearances, or when he was out in the shopping district and his eyes lingered on the engagement rings just a tad too long. Yet he is the same Bruce who shoves that feeling down deep inside him so it can't surface again or bother him at the board meeting he has in thirty minutes.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Leaves said meeting early to find you at work, taking your lunch break. Who pulls you outside and tells you he has something incredibly important to tell you with a slightly wild look in his eye. You can't help but be taken aback, wondering what's gotten the ineffable billionaire agitated. You think of a million scenarios. He needs to go into witness protection? He got involved with gangs? threats on his life again? he's being blackmailed? Blood money? He leaves as soon as he came, driving himself back once telling you to meet him at the manor that night after work. Immediately after work. He drives back to the manor with his pulse thrumming against the skin of his neck and fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel. he was going to tell you. He was going to risk everything on a gamble, and he couldn’t help but feel the pit beneath his feet trying to swallow him whole at the implications of it.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Jumps up from the sitting room the moment you step in the door, hands jittery despite the glass of scotch he had been sipping. Whose nerves get the better of him in that one moment despite spending years training away that fear. He was fear now, he was the Batman. But in this moment, he felt more man that he had felt in a long, long time.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Feels like he could collapse as you listen to his admission. He's placed all the cards in your hands, enough to extort him forever, expose him and his identity. Make the world crumble around his ears in such a dramatic fashion that the Justice Leage wouldn't even be able to save him from it. He wasn't just gambling with his identity, he played with the lives and identities of everyone he was connected to, every Robin he had raised and trained. So, when you hold those cards he gave you and fold them to your chest, swearing to never tell a soul, the breath leaving his lungs makes him feel boneless.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Thinks for the first time, that there was a way to unite the Bat with Bruce Wayne. That when he goes to hug you, he knows that he risked it all on that gamble, but it paid off in ways that he couldn’t have imagined.

and that was enough for him.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud IX

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: After the preseason against Barcelona

Someone is watching you.

It's nothing you can prove, of course. It's nothing you really care that much about either.

You've just managed to draw against Barcelona in a preseason friendly. Of course there would be someone watching. A lot of someones actually but you don't find yourself minding too much as you head over to your parents.

They're on the far side of the pitch, waving to the very few Spanish Bayern fans that have come out to watch the team play.

You wiggle your way between them and Magda's arm automatically comes to rest on your shoulder. She angles her face towards you slightly, a smile on her face as she presses a quick kiss to your hairline.

Pernille takes your hand on the other side and you smile at her, leaning your head against her shoulder.

It feels good to demonstrate your skills.

In front of your new teammates. In front of your new manager. In front of Barcelona, to make them worry when you're on the pitch, to show them they aren't as bulletproof as the fans think they are.

But, right now, all you can do is smile as your sign things for the very few Bayern fans that have come over to watch your team play for them.

"You did very well today," Pernille says to you, squeezing your hand softly.

"Enough for a lamb?"

"You know the rules," Pernille replies with practiced exasperation," You'll have to really impress. Show me you can really care for one."

You huff, putting on a bit of a show.

This is a practiced dance between you and Pernille, a more playful back and forth now that you've moved to Germany. Pernille pretends that she's more opposed to getting a sweet lamb than she actually is and you pretend to be more annoyed than you actually are that you're being refused.

"Oh come on, Pernille!" Magda says from your other side," I really think she's deserved it!"

Magda's also apart of all this teasing. She backs you up, insists that you've already proven yourself despite having never had a pet in your life. The extent of your animal caring abilities is filling up the bird feeder in the garden.

Of course, you've also got that little binder you made a few years ago with how to take care of lambs and sheep and when to sheer them and what to feed them and how you can make them happy.

Pernille had made you make it after she realised you were serious about raising a lamb for yourself.

You update it every so often, just to show her that this isn't something that you've forgotten about.

Arms close around your waist and you shriek as you're lifted into the air.

You can hear Pernille and Magda laugh as you're hoisted up and you flail your legs around when you're airborne for too long.

"Frido!" You shriek," Let me down!"

Frido shakes you, using her height difference against you before unceremoniously dumping you onto the ground.

You roll onto your back, panting with a smile as you look up at her. "That was mean."

"What has the world come to?" She asks no one in particular," That an aunt can't pick up and shake her little niece anymore?"

"I'm not little."

She grins down at you. "I remember you before your growth spurt," She says," You'll always be my little niece."

Frido offers you a hand.

You take it and pull her down.

She shrieks at the sudden force of your pull and falls onto the grass next to you.

You laugh, letting Pernille help you up and dust the dirt off your shirt.

Frido does the same with her own clothes, flicking a stray piece of grass at you that you bat away easily.

"Good game," She says, ruffling your hair," You had us on our toes."

"Just..." You glance behind you, feeling that same prickly feeling of eyes on your back," Just wanted to impress."

"Well, you certainly did that." Frido leans closer, like she's about to tell you a secret. "But I don't think it's just on who you wanted to watch you."

She jerks her chin over your shoulder and you follow her gaze.

Alexia Putellas is by the bench, talking and gesturing wildly over at you to the new Barcelona manager. You don't quite remember his name but you know what he looks like and even from this far of a distance away, you know he's looking straight at you.

"Best hope Bayern put a big price on her release clause," Frido says to your mothers and you feel Magda freeze behind you.

Her mouth dry, she speaks. "What?"

"Just saying," Frido laughs," A performance like that? In preseason? At a club she's just moved to? You and I both know she's a talent. Alexia doesn't really enjoy talents like that outside of Barcelona."

Magda pulls your back against her front, arms hanging over your shoulders. "They can't have her. She's a minor. They need our permission."

"She'll be eighteen soon," Frido reminds Magda.

"Still. They can't force her to come. I won't let them. I just got her back."

"We just got her back," Pernille corrects.

"Besides," You laugh," Momma won't even let me get a lamb yet. I don't think she'll be too happy sending me off to Spain."

Frido laughs, ruffling your hair again. "I think you'll find Barcelona can be quite persuasive when they need to be. How else do you think we got Ewa with us?"

"Dumb luck?"

Frido gasps dramatically. "You know what, young lady? Come here!"

She reaches for you and you duck out of the way, sprinting across the pitch out of her reach.

"You're getting old!" You shout over your shoulder, ducking and weaving through players and staff alike. "Aren't you meant to be a professional athlete?"

You jump over a crate of drinks as Frido trips over them.

You laugh, leaving her in the dirt as another hand reaches for your own.

"Aren't you tired?" Ingrid asks you," You've just played ninety minutes."

You know Ingrid quite well considering you've never played on a team with her.

Pernille and Frido have introduced you two a lot over the years. She's nice to see, someone who is not family but just as nice as them.

"I'm never too tired to humiliate Frido," You answer, turning to look back as Pernille helps Frido up while Magda howls with laughter.

Ingrid rolls her eyes fondly at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Have you met Esmee before? I can't remember."

Either way, Ingrid introduces you to Esmee, who seems nice enough, if a little shy. You can imagine you and her getting on once you're both settled with each other.

"Of course, you know Mapi a bit and this is Aitana. Aitana, this is y/n. She's Magda and Pernille's daughter, Frido's niece."

"Daughter?" The look Aitana wears on her face is one you're always used to when regarding your parentage.

"Adopted," You confirm with a nod. It's always better to explain now than have to deal with the awkward questions as people try to tread around the minefield that's your family situation.

She nods once before speaking. "Do you want to swap shirts?"

"Oh! Er..." You glance behind you where your family is (thankfully) keeping their distance. Still within earshot but not enough to invite themselves into the conversation.

Both of your mothers stick their thumbs up at you.

"Yeah...okay, then."

Like you thought, you and Esmee do get on. You reckon that you wearing a Barcelona shirt (Aitana's Barcelona shirt, you think in the back of your mind) must have settled her a bit. Familiar people with the one unfamiliar one wearing a very familiar colours.

She's nice and speaks well and you almost forget about the prickling feeling of someone watching you until that someone is right behind you.

The little circle you've found yourself in opens up and Alexia Putellas slides into the now empty spot next to you.

Magda moves to approach as well but Pernille holds her back by the back of the shirt.

"Pernille-"

"Let her deal with it," Pernille says," However she wants to do it. We can't coddle her for her whole life."

Magda pouts. "We can try."

"Magda," Pernille continues," She's much more capable than you like to think."

You hope that your eyes aren't as wide in shock as you think they are. it would be embarrassing for Alexia Putellas to remember that expression as the one you wore when you first met her.

"You had a good game," She says to you and you feel your throat go dry.

You force words out anyway. "Th-Thank you."

"A great game, actually," Alexia continues," You're very talented."

"Thank you."

You feel like a broken record, incapable of saying nothing but the same thing over and over again.

"How long have you got on your Bayern contract?"

"Two-Two years."

"Two years? Not three? Or four? For someone of your talent..."

"Oh, er, well, it's meant to finish the same time as my mothers' do."

"Harder and Eriksson's kid, aren't you?"

"And Frido's niece," Ingrid puts in and Alexia nods.

"I thought so. She's never had anything but compliments for you. You used to play for Arsenal as well, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you joined Sweden for their Euro qualifiers as well. It's nice to see that young talent is being fostered so well."

You laugh a little awkwardly. "Oh, well, I'm not really anything special."

The look Alexia gives you makes it clear she thinks differently. She doesn't refute your claim though, just purses her lips in thought.

"Barcelona has always been good at noticing young talent and putting our faith in them."

"Oh?"

She smiles at you. "Just something to think about. Have you got the same managers as your mothers?"

You nod. "Yeah, Morsa...Er...Magda and I have the same person."

"Excellent." She claps a hand down onto your shoulder. "You should probably warn them about something coming their way soon after that performance today. I hope to see you on the pitch again soon."

With that, Alexia Putellas walks away, right back down the tunnels and you're left hopelessly looking back at her.

You turn back to the little group around you, a group that your family has finally joined again.

"Sorry...What just happened?"

Frido laughs, a casual arm flung over your shoulder.

"That was Alexia speak for 'Barcelona will be trying to buy you from Bayern soon'."

Magda swears. "For fuck's sake!"