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sortagaysortahigh · 2 months ago

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Loverboy | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds

A/N: Ok yall i had to get Bob out of my mind ok, idk man, ive got some hurt/comfort cooking up in my drafts but i wanted something cutesy and loving ok!!! Plus im on a witch!reader high rn like sorcerer type shi, it's only really mentioned a few times, nothing too crazy fr, Contains Thunderbolts* spoilers

Summary: It started as a joke, but truthfully, you would be the only one riding Bob into space. (Somewhat established relationship)

Warnings: Spelling and grammar errors </3, 2ND PERSON POV, Fluff!!!, cursing, mentions of violence, allusions to child abuse (bob/readers past), John Walkers a dick sorry guys im a hater, mention of Sam and Buckys divorce </3 smut: hair pulling, kissing (with tongue! o em gee!!), grinding, lowkey dry humping, handjobs, p in v unprotected secks (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk if you squint, praise!, switch!bob & switch!reader tee hee, oral (m receiving), spitting, hand holding

Word Count: 5.9k (shoutout to me for writing smth under 10k)

Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Fem!Witch!Reader

Idk bro id kiss him on the mouth fr, even if he has thin lips he can still get a kith!!

It was supposed to be a joke, something light hearted! Today was already stressful enough, you hadn’t meant to make things awkward or tense!

Typically the New Avengers base wasn’t that bad, sure everyone had their quirks, and you honestly couldn’t stand John Walker, but over the past year or so, things had been going relatively well.

Everyone had found a sense of purpose, something that most of the anti-heroes lacked prior to deciding to become the ‘Thunderbolts’. Of course there were still bad days at the tower, everyone had bad days, especially a ragtag group of ex-criminals that had initially been sent on a mission to kill one another.

But, the more missions everyone went on, the stronger their bonds became.

That wasn’t enough to distract from the elephant in the room, being the fact that Valentina’s introduction of you all as the New Avengers spiked a multitude of controversy and bad press. Yes, you’d done good things together, but you weren’t exactly good people, not going into this at least.

Then there was the ongoing lawsuit between the ‘New Avengers’ and the team of Avengers that Sam Wilson had been creating. Those were the people that were deemed as real heroes, they were loved and adored, meanwhile you all were questionable at best.

The newest Space threat had been stressing Yelena out for a few months now, and considering most of the people in the room were juiced up super soldiers, science experiments gone wrong, and former assassins, it wasn’t exactly easy to get the U.S. Air Force and NASA to agree to provide you all with adequate ships that would transport you into space.

So all everyone could do was continue to monitor the situation.

You didn’t necessarily agree with being forced into the New Avengers, not when the only reason that you’d been there for the entire Void fiasco was because Sam had sent you to Washington D.C. to help with Bucky’s political agendas. More specifically his lackluster ability to speak on camera and in interviews.

“He’s a dumb, litigious man” you scoffed at Alexei, throwing the water bottle in hand at him, the bottle hitting him right in the abdomen earning a loud groan as the older man winced while grabbing the right side of his body. “Seriously? Why are you attacking me! I am right, Sam Wilson does not know anything”

You rolled your eyes from your seat beside Bob, now standing and walking over towards everyone while shaking your head.

“No, Sam Wilson is right, we were never supposed to be the Avengers, and I’m sorry but I don’t ever recall the Avengers working under the government. It makes sense that everyone ever is literally on his side, not ours”

Yelena sighed, now slumping over in her seat while looking down at the digital satellite report.

“If you were ugly and didn’t have super cool witchy magic, it would be so much easier to dislike you, you know?” you laughed at her, smiling as you took a seat on the large sectional beside her, glancing at the report, brows knit together in confusion.

“Your diagnostic scan is off, somethings interfering with the feed” Yelena looked from you to the tablet screen, then across the room at Bucky who looked miserable.

Everyone knew he wasn’t handling his ongoing fight with Sam well, and the fact that he was no longer a congressman as he didn’t get re-elected really damaged his ego.

You always told him he’d be fine, it’s not like he was turning into a full fledged brainwashed murderer anymore! A marital dispute wasn’t that bad. They weren’t even married, but the way they’d been bickering over the phone for the past six months, it sounded as if Sam and Bucky were in the middle of a heated divorce.

Then Alexei started on one of his rants about team, and unity, and the very eccentric jumpsuit he had on. He looked like a mediocre NASCAR driver, and the suit was way too colorful for you. Plus the velcro patched on ‘z’ at the end of Avenger was making it look even worse.

“I’ve got one for all of you!”

You shook your head, then glanced back towards Bob who was already looking in your direction, you smiled at him before focusing back on Alexei. It was easy to drown everyone out, you’d gotten used to their presence, most days it was like Walker and Ava weren’t even there.

Although, Ava liked to keep to herself, so that part made sense. But Walker? He was constantly flirting with you, especially after practically announcing to the team that he and his wife were splitting for a while, but he did get to visit his kid often. He was like a feral dog trying to chase whatever bitch in heat he could find.

Except you were not a bitch in heat, and you did not like that man whatsoever.

“If only we had the Sentry who could fly!” you sighed again but before you had the chance to give Alexei shit for talking about Bob, he’d already responded.

“Sorry guys, I can’t be the Sentry without, well y’know” you nodded at him, he’d spent countless nights telling you about it, his fear of becoming the Void again, his fear of hurting everyone, of hurting you.

Before Alexei could respond you waved a hand, now the man couldn’t speak, frustration evident in his expression while he shook his head, hands waving in the air as he glared at you.

“I did the dishes though” you laughed a bit, smiling while looking back at Bob, shooting him a quick wink. Then you waved your hand again, Alexei now being able to speak.

“Woman! I have told you to stop doing that to me!” he shook his head, hands on his hips like a disappointed father while you shrugged, exchanging a look with Yelena before the both of you laughed again.

Then John spoke up “What are we just gonna ride Bob into space?” you responded before fully thinking about it. It was just a joke afterall.

“I’m the only one riding Bob.”

The tablet Bucky was holding was now on the floor, having slipped and fallen face-first against the concrete floors, while Bucky looked utterly shocked and disturbed at the comment.

Yelena simply laughed, nodding her head while high-fiving you.

Alexei’s neck cranked back as he held a disgusted look “you are like daughter to me! Don’t speak like that in front of me! I do not need to know what you and Bob do!”

Ava’s eyes widened, looking from you to Bob, back and forth over and over again “Oh my god! Is that what you two are always doing?! Having sex?! I thought you two just like really liked to read and stuff oh my god!”

Then John scoffed, arms crossed in front of his chest, rolling his eyes at the comment. “Yeah right, we all know Bobby over there isn’t getting laid” your brows knit together at that, slowly turning to face John, who now held eye contact with you.

You were debating on smiting him, it wasn’t the first time either. Bucky had stopped you from fighting John Walker on several occasions, he was always a pompous asshole, sure he’d gotten a bit better, but it was like he never recovered from getting the shield and his military honors revoked.

Then Bob spoke up “Sounds like you’re just jealous man”

Your jaw practically hit the floor.

Yelena nodded her head a few times, a proud look on her face while she observed everyone’s reactions. “The Bob I met fourteen months ago would’ve never said that, I’m proud of you-” she then glanced back at you “-and you, keep doing your thing with him” then she winked.

Before you knew it you were on your feet, rushing over to him and practically dragging him away with you while the room was full of shouts and cheers. Yelena had even been clapping.

Once you were fully out of earshot you turned to face him, lightly slapping his chest, your face and neck were on fire, your skin felt flushed and you were a definitive mixture between embarrassed and turned on.

“Dude! What the hell!” he laughed, the same shy smile that you’d fallen in love with on his face while he shrugged.

“Baby he had it coming” you nodded at that, shaking your head again with another groan “we’re never living that down! Did you hear what Ava said! Geez, mister confident over here” he smiled again, nodding at you before shrugging.

“He’s just kind of an asshole, I had to defend you-or us I guess…wait is there an us?”

It wasn’t a secret that you’d both grown rather close, it initially began when everyone had settled into the tower, the team getting more and more missions, and because you believed in free will, anytime they’d try to make you join them, you would decline. This wasn’t something that you’d wanted, your job was supposed to be one of Bucky’s political advisors pertaining to public relations.

You’d moved past using any form of magic to fight evil, especially after what had happened to Peter, but the only people who remembered him were at peak stages of insanity, or from other universes. Then there was you, the both of you had practically grown up together at one point, but he Blipped and you didn’t.

But after nearly breaking the fabric of the universe to combat the idiotic spells that Stephen Strange had cast to prove a point, you swore off of sorcery. It had it’s helpful moments, small tasks here and there, but fighting crime or being a hero wasn’t something you wanted for yourself.

So you opted to stay at the tower on ‘Bob duty’, and at first it was awkward, a lot of silent exchanges, a few accidents pertaining to dropping things or jump-scaring one another, but then something changed one day.

He asked you to brush his hair, it was so soft and subtle, he said he’d tried, but he just couldn’t, that he was too tired, he’d even explained how difficult it was to leave his room. So you invited him into your space, had him sit between your legs, and you brushed his hair for longer than necessary, running your fingers along his scalp to offer some form of comfort.

Then you both started warming up to one another, you’d ask him for help with the dishes, he’d ask if you wanted to read with him, and the more time spent together, the more you’d both started opening up to one another. Hell, you’d even dragged him plant shopping with you several times under the guise that ‘Bucky said I can’t leave you alone’.

It wasn’t difficult to fall for Bob, he made it really, really easy.

Sure, he had his bad days, but so did you.

He was one of the few people to ask you about your childhood for genuine reasons, most just wanted to know where the whole ‘magic’ thing came from. He asked you about the good and bad times, it was comforting in a way that you hadn’t expected.

You’d both sit together for hours when the tower was relatively empty, some days all you would do was read, others you’d talk through the sunset, into the sunrise. He’d shared bits and pieces of his past with you, gradually giving you more and more details.

Bob had even told you why he hated when Walker called him Bobby, you weren’t there in the void with them at that point, they had to find you in your own shame room. It wasn’t exactly horrible for you though, by the time they’d found you, you were repeatedly punching your own father in the face.

Everything had felt so real that day, when Bucky dragged you away, you’d thrown him off of you at first.

It wasn’t until a few months ago though, that you’d both finally crossed the line between being just friends and something more. You’d been watching the sunset on the rooftop of the building, your head leaned against his shoulder while you both sat in a comfortable silence when he finally asked why you constantly rejected Walker.

At first all you said was ‘cause he’s an asshole’, but when you finally moved to make eye contact with him, he was already looking down at you, and when you caught him, he didn’t blush and look away like he usually did.

He did blush though, but then you’d made the first move, slowly leaning into his space more and more until your lips were on his.

That night pushed you two past just being friends, and since then, he’d been wrapped around your finger. But to be fair, you were wrapped around his as well.

Things had gotten heated relatively fast, a few nights of built up tension led to you falling into his sheets easily, of course the first few nights did involve a few shattered glasses, one broken plant pot, and a cracked window, but once he figured out how to fully control the overwhelming rush of emotions that went hand-in-hand with genuine intimacy, things got easier.

He blinked a few times, brows knit together while he stared at you, you weren’t fully focused on him, a distant look in your eye at his question. You were clearly zoned out, thinking about something and at this exact moment he wished he could read minds. He was starting to overthink things, maybe you two were just friends and he’d been thinking too far into it, people that were friends hooked up all the time.

But he wasn’t sure if they stayed together for hours after, holding one another while speaking in hushed voices about anything and everything.

“Uh it’s okay if we’re not y’know-a thing, uh” you shushed him, blinking a few times, then your smile was back on your face. You were quick to lean in and kiss him, it was a fast kiss, if anything, just a light peck.

But your smile was genuine and reassuring “Yes-there is an us”.

Then the door to your left slammed open, smacking the wall while Yelena and Ava fell to the floor.

Without thinking Bob had pulled you towards him so you were now standing a bit behind him, it was instinctive. Meanwhile Yelena and Ava rolled over, now on their backs while they caught their breath.

“You know, you two are so cute! I knew I was right about you guys! Ava didn’t believe me, can you believe that! Also why are the floors so hard here, that really hurt” you shook your head at Yelena, doing your best to fight the laughter bubbling in your chest as you grabbed Bob’s hand.

“Okay nosey rosies, we’re gonna be in my room! See you guys later!” with that you gently pulled him behind you, walking towards the elevators that led to your floor.

The elevator ride was relatively quiet, but it was a comfortable silence between the both of you, and once the elevator had stopped at your designated floor, without zero hesitation you grabbed his hand, dragging him behind you while heading in the direction of your room.

He didn’t protest, instead he walked right behind you, the same dopey smile on his face that he always had when you two were together.

Once you were both inside, you locked the door while he made himself comfortable on your bed, now laying flat against the plush mattress and pillows. Turning around made you laugh at the sight, he was surrounded by your several different pillows and blankets while he leaned his head forward a bit to look at you.

“You’re so pretty” your smile was bright as you approached the bed, easily slotting yourself beside him, pushing a few blankets to the ground in the process of getting comfortable. It wasn’t like the bed was small, but you’ve always been the kind of person to need twenty pillows.

Eventually you ended up on your stomach, one leg tangled between his, meanwhile you held your upper body up with one hand resting against your chin, the other tracing shapes into his chest. He was flat on his back, one hand resting against his abdomen, the other outstretched to make space for you beside him.

“Robert, do you wanna get married and run away?” his eyes shot open, he’d been enjoying your embrace, eyes shut while he relaxed, but the minute you finished your sentence his heart was practically pounding out of his chest.

“W-what?” you couldn’t hold in your laughter.

“Okay I’m sorry, bad time for random jokes, I just wanted to see if you were awake” he nodded his head, eyes still wide, facial expression emulating distress and shock.

“I’m definitely awake now, y-you can’t just say things like that to me” you raised a brow at that “why?” he sighed “because-you know why-what the hell baby?” The nickname made you smile again, now leaning closer to his face, a few inches away from him.

“I don’t think I know why, you think I’m like un-marry-able or somethin? I’d marry you, probably give it a year or so, but I would” the tone shift in your voice was evident as you spoke, starting off in a joking lighthearted manner, then flowing into a seriousness that you only reserved for specific occasions.

“But I think I’m okay with being your annoying girlfriend for now, besides, I love you” his fingers intertwined with yours, offering a gentle squeeze while his brows knit together, eyes studying your features as if he was looking for an ounce of doubt. He’d never heard you sound so sure of something.

“Y-you love me? You sure?” you looked taken aback by the question.

“Did you just ask me if I’m sure I love you?” he nodded at that. So instead of responding you took a second to sit up, then grasped his arm, pulling him forward slightly, using a tinge of magic to help. Now he was sitting up and you were resting on your knees staring at him.

“I mean I’m me, and you’re-well you’re you. I dunno, I just didn’t think you’d like let alone love someone like m-” you shushed him, jaw clenched slightly as you shook your head “don’t even say that. You’re perfect the way you are, and yeah you’ve been through some rough shit, but we all have. It doesn’t make you unloveable or undeserving Bobby”

There it was, the nickname that you’d only ever brought out in moments like these, private moments away from the world, when it was just you and him.

It was the only time that he loved the nickname, if anyone else called him it, it brought forward feelings of distress, anger, and shame, but with you, you said it so softly and lovingly. It was as if all of the bad had been washed away the second the word would slip past your lips.

He bit his bottom lip, glancing down at your hands, now noticing that you’d still been holding his hand, except now you held his larger hand in both of yours, thumbs carefully caressing his skin in back and forth motions. He took a few moments to look at you, the soft golden glow in the room highlighted against your skin, painting you like an angel.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve someone like you in his life, someone who cared so deeply and loved so passionately. Plus you were mean to anyone that was an asshole, so that was always a bonus.

“I love you. I don’t care if we’ve only known each other a year, I don’t give a shit if it makes me crazy, I don’t care- I love you” as you spoke, you straddled his lap, arms wrapping around his shoulders, resting your forehead against his.

“I love you too”

Then your lips were against his again and your hands were in his hair. You took the lead, your body was practically on auto pilot as your lips connected with his. The kiss wasn’t soft, but it was passionate, lips moving in sync, a bit of teeth clashing as you lightly tugged on his hair, then the kiss was filled with heavy breaths, tongue, and smiles.

Naturally your hips started slowly grinding against him, one of his hands on your waist, the other caressing your cheek, pulling you into him even further. The deeper the kiss got, the faster your hips moved against his prominent bulge.

When you pulled away for air you made sure to bite his bottom lip slightly, offering a sultry smile after, eyes moving from his now swollen lips to his hooded eyes, they were glazed over, a hint of gold shining through his pupils.

“I’m the only one riding you right?” he nodded his head, his dopey smile back on his face, then you leaned back into his space, except you were now trailing kisses along his jaw, your teeth lightly nipping at his ear before whispering “can I ride you today?”.

Then your lips were back on his throat, sucking and nipping marks into his skin, prior to his, you did your best not to leave any visible marks on him, but after certain comments today, you had a point to prove.

His breathy moans spurred you on, your hips still grinding against him, moving a bit faster while you focused on his throat, moving from one side to the other before lightly tugging on the collar of his sweater then slowly biting against his pulse point.

You looked at his throat like a piece of art, a satisfied smile on your face at the look of the pink and red marks covering his pale skin. Then your eyes found his and he stared at you with a sea of emotion, the slight golden flicker prominent while he bit his bottom lip, smiling.

“I think you’ve proved your point” you shrugged, laughing a bit “mmm, I dunno Bobby, I haven’t even gotten to take my ride” with that your hands moved to the bottom of his sweater, slowly sliding it up his torso until he’d pulled it off, tossing it aside somewhere, then you were pushing him back onto the bed again, lips back on his skin.

He let you do whatever you wanted to him, one hand behind his head, now watching your movements, his other hand grasping the comforter below.

You moved lower and lower, kissing along his defined abdomen, leaving a trail of wet bruising kisses against his warm skin, then you were staring at him from between his legs, eyes half-hooded, biting your bottom lip, while you dragged your fingers along his waistline, tracing the defined edges of his lower abdomen before slowly unbuttoning his pants.

“You’re gonna kill me baby” you smiled at that, nodding your head “if I wanted to, I would pretty boy” he practically whimpered, the sound made you giggle while unzipping his pants, taking a moment to lightly tug them down his hips a bit, giving yourself more access to him.

“Can I see you?” the question was so sweet and subtle, his mind felt hazy watching as you stared up at him, eyes on his own while you waited on his answer. He nodded his head a few times, letting out a low gasp as you slowly slid his briefs down, fingers grazing over the thick shaft of his cock.

Once you’d pulled his cock out of its constraints you moaned, the sound had him bucking his hips into your hand that was wrapped perfectly around him. Your movements were slow and precise, it was clear that you were teasing him, but before he could protest, you were spitting on his cock, pumping your hand along his cock faster and faster, giggling at his strained moans and whimpers.

You leaned forward, placing a kiss to the tip of his cock before kitten licking it a few times, then wrapping your lips around him, taking him slowly into your mouth, inch by inch until you’d gone as far as you could-gagging on him slightly.

Then you moved away, a string of spit connecting your bottom lip to the head of his cock.

“Have I ever told you how pretty your dick is Bobby? How pretty you are?” he nodded his head again, both hands now on his face while he leaned back into the pillows, muffled moans leaving his parted lips.

Your eyes moved along his cock from its base to the reddened tip, tracing the few prominent veins along his shaft, alongside the swollen head of his cock, all of it with a spit-slick sheen. Then your tongue was back on him, licking along the thickest vein, tracing it like a lollipop.

Beads of precum were leaking from his tip, you switched between using your tongue to gather it, and spreading it with your thumb. You were playing with him, and he was going crazy.

“Baby-please fuck-honey” you looked back up at him, tongue out as you tapped his cock against it, he was now looking at you, desperation evident on his flushed features. His entire upper body had a light red flush, his chest rapidly rising and falling while he moaned above you.

“Okay, I’ll stop teasing you” With one final kiss to the head of his cock you stood up, making a show of taking off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them, bending over and arching your back as you slid them down your body. Once they were off, you reached for your sweatshirt, taking it off and tossing it at him-earning a laugh in response.

You stood in front of him in just your panties and a fitted spaghetti strap tank top.

“You want me to do a little dance for you?” he smiled, shaking his head, now sitting up on his elbows, eyes moving along your figure, very clearly admiring you with a shy smile as if you weren’t just sucking him off. Then you spun around, laughing while jumping a bit, the fat of your ass jiggling at the motion-then you were bending over and his eyes were wide as he watched you slowly slide your panties down your legs.

The evident wet patch in the dark fabric had him biting his lip, but the way they slightly stuck to your slick cunt as you shimmied out of them had him groaning again. Then you were standing up again, facing him while tossing your panties directly at his face.

“Consider it a gift for later” you winked while getting back on the bed, easily slotting yourself above his waist, straddling him yet again, then you were reaching between your thighs, grasping his cock again, slowly sliding it along your cunt before sinking down. You were tired of the teasing, and truthfully, you’d been soaked the entire time.

It was easy to fall into a rhythm with Bob, one of his hands now on your waist, the other intertwined with your own while you did your best to focus on riding him, your hips rising and falling, bouncing against him, enjoying the fullness.

Your moans were getting louder, and your pace was faltering.

While you usually took the lead, you didn’t exactly have the best stamina, not when it came to riding him especially given his size. It wasn’t an easy adjustment the first few times you’d slept together, but now you were used to it, and it drove you mad.

He knew you were already getting tired, offering a love-drunk laugh as you leaned down, forehead resting against his shoulder while you bounced on his cock. He slowly started meeting your movements, hips lightly rising into you, the new movement made you whimper, teeth grazing against his skin.

“You’re doing so good baby” you nodded at his praise, moving to place open mouthed kisses along his jaw. “Just like that, ‘s okay, keep going honey” you whimpered, doing your best to keep going, but your thighs were burning and the pleasure was overwhelming.

Then he wrapped his arm around you, and in seconds you were on your back and he was above you, the sudden movement making you laugh while looking up at him, you squeezed his hand, smiling at the sight of your intertwined fingers.

“Figured you needed a break” you giggled again, rolling your eyes, voice a bit raspy as you mumbled “was it that obvious?” he nodded his head at that, now laughing with you.

Then he was using his other hand to push one of your thighs back slightly, adjusting the angle of his hips before he started slowly thrusting into you, both of your moans blending into one another while he built his own rhythm.

It wasn’t too fast or too slow, the perfect inbetween that had your nails scratching along his back, while you moaned his name, over and over again-enjoying every second of this.

Once he had the perfect angle, he used his free hand to gently pull your tank top down, your tits bouncing with every thrust, the sight had his mouth watering. He was quick to lean into your space, lips on your chest, kissing along your breasts, tongue trailing your hardened nipples one at a time, earning several moans.

While he nipped marks into your skin, he moved his hand to hold your thigh in place, using it to better leverage himself.

Your hand was in his hair now, tugging at the chestnut locks while you moaned his name. The coil in your abdomen was tightening, pleasure overwhelming your senses.

“I’m gonna cum” he nodded his head, now moving his hand from your thigh to between your legs, fingers quickly finding your clit, rubbing half-moons into the sensitive bundle of nerves, as he listened to your high-pitched gasp, your walls fluttering around him at the added pleasure.

You started rolling your hips into him, using your free hand to pull him closer to you, lips back on his, struggling to kiss him as you whimpered against his lips. Your nails dug into his back while you held him close, feeling the coil in your abdomen getting even tighter to the point that you were practically panting against his lips.

Your words were clear as you moaned “I fuckin love you-oh shit”, your back arching into him, hand pulling him closer as your orgasm washed over your entire body, legs shaking slightly at the feeling of him fucking you through it, cock still rocking into you, prolonging your orgasm.

Then as you slowly started coming down, you felt his hips tense slightly, then he was pulling out of you with a low moan, and in seconds he was coating your stomach with thick ropes of cum, the sensation making you giggle.

“Y’know, you could just cum inside of me” he groaned, head now resting in the crook of your neck as he caught his breath, then he slowly moved back, resting on his haunches while you lifted yourself with your elbows, glancing down at the edge of your now ruined tank top, and the evident strings of cum coating the soft pudge of your stomach.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a kid” you were laughing again, hazy smile on your face as you shook your head at him.

“Seriously pretty boy? I’m on the pill y’know” he shrugged at that, slowly tucking himself back into his briefs as he stood up, adjusting his pants for a second before walking towards your en suite bathroom. He was back within a few minutes, now holding two small towels, one wet, the other dry.

He took his time cleaning you up, he always did. “Even if you’re on the pill, we uh-gotta work up to that. I think I might shatter a window the first time I do that” you smiled, shaking your head, now glancing over at the window on the opposite side of the room, eyes tracing the glass to check for any cracks.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t break anything-I already looked around” he spoke as he walked towards one of your dressers, opening the second drawer from the top, pulling out a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top for you, he then threw them at you, smiling while you caught them, tossing your ruined shirt on the ground beside your shared pile of clothes before pulling the new top on.

After freshening up in the bathroom, and putting the new shorts on, you joined him in bed once again, except this time he was in pajama pants without a shirt on, clearly waiting for you to join him.

“Y’know maybe John’s always an asshole cause he’s totally jealous of your abs” you wiggled your brows while you spoke, climbing into the bed beside him, easily propping yourself up beside him, fingers back on his chest and abdomen while he wrapped an arm around your shoulders knowing that it would most likely be numb within ten minutes.

“Or he’s an asshole cause he’s just as asshole” you nodded at that “yeah, probably huh?”

Then you kissed him again, a light peck “I love you Robert” he laughed at your serious tone, followed by you wiggling your brows at the mention of his full name.

He said your full name, winking “-and I love you too”.

The two of you had fallen asleep shortly after that, you were nuzzled into his side and he was flat on his back, embracing you and your warmth.

It wasn’t until several hours later that the hushed commotion in the room had woken the both of you up, well that combined with the large overhead lights that you hated turning on, being on.

“See! I told you it was real! I mean look at Bob! He looks like he was attacked by a vampire! And look how close they are! Plus the pile of clothes! They’re clearly dating and having sex!” Yelena’s whisper was more like a hushed shout as she motioned around the room, then at the two of you in bed together.

“Yel, invading their privacy isn’t being good team members or found family members or whatever your dad calls it!” Ava groaned, her hands on her hips while she looked from Yelena to you and Bob’s resting figures. Her eyes widened slightly as she noticed you shifting around, and in turn, Bob moving as well.

“God damnit, here Yelena” John was clearly irritated as he handed Yelena two twenty dollar bills, shaking his head at the sight of Bob’s hickey-covered skin, and you nuzzled against his skin. It didn’t help that you were both also sharing a blanket, and you looked so calm and comfortable, the exact opposite of how you typically looked.

“Can you all shut the fuck up and get out?” your voice was raspy and hoarse as you squinted your eyes, sitting up slightly at the sight of them. Then Yelena shushed everyone else, mumbling out ‘sorry to interrupt! Please go back to sleep and being in love and stuff!’ then the lights were off and the door slammed shut.

Bob laughed, leading to you lightly slapping his chest.

“Don’t encourage them before they try to ride you into space” he snorted at your joke, shaking his head, a sleepy smile on his face.

“I thought you were the only one riding me?”

Thanks for reading secksies <3 MWAH

#bob reynolds x reader #bob sentry fic #bob reynolds x y/n #bob reynolds fluff #bob reynolds smut #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds smut #robert reynolds fluff #robert reynolds fic

819 notes · View notes

lanabuckybarnes · 2 months ago

Text

| Heating Up |

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing(s): Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Steve Rogers

Warnings: A/B/O Themes, Heat, Polyamory, Oral (F), PinV Sex, Knotting, Two sickly sweet alphas who adore their baby — if I’ve missed any let me know.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: Well hello enjoyers of my work I’m so sorry I abandoned you but life came at me fast. Having a puppy is hard work and before I knew it he was almost a year old and I hadn’t posted in a long time. I had surgery also so with everything going on I haven’t had time to write but hopefully I’ll get back to it. For now please enjoy a lil snippet from my drafts you beautiful souls.

This has not been looked over thoroughly forgive my mistakes!!

Your mates were concerned to say the least. You’d spent all but the better half of this week avoiding them, choosing to spend most of your waking hours cooped up in your room instead—only leaving to eat when both men had vacated the house or were tucked up in the much larger bed in the master bedroom.

“Steve have you seen my shirt?” A half naked Bucky stomps in, a scowl marring his perfect features. His bonding mark on perfect display above ropes of muscle that rippled and stretched at each little movement he made.

Steve only hummed, jutting his chin out in the direction of the closed door, your separate little bedroom.

“Thought I couldn’t hear her sneaking out while you were showering, I saw her come back with it not even five minutes ago.” Steve tossed the contents of his frying pan into the air, making sure to catch everything again effortlessly.

This hadn’t been the first time Bucky or Steve’s clothing had vanished into thin air this week. Just the other day Steve and Bucky had gone to training, each of them discarding their clothing in a pile before showering. When they finished the pile was nowhere to be found. They’d tried to question you, Steve pulling on the handle of the closed door but it was locked.

They both had a sneaky suspicion about what was up but you hadn’t had anything since dating the Alphas. It would be strange for it to happen now, right?

They let your strange behaviour continue, you weren’t harming anyone but Bucky was chomping at the bit to see you again. The more reserved of the two had become quite smitten with you, his bonding mark itched when you weren’t joined at the hip and the itch was becoming too much to bear. He waited until Steve was distracted before picking the lock of your room and stepping in.

The first thing that hit him was your scent, heavy in the air, its cherry undertones strong and almost overpowering, he could almost taste it. His alpha brain clicked instantly and told him to leave you alone but his human side craved your contact.

You weren’t in the bed, the shower running let him know exactly where you were. The perfect cover for him. The white sheets had been thrown on the floor, the bed littered in Steve and his shirts and other discarded clothing. It took him only a second to realise that the arrangement was intricate and thought out. A nest.

“What? Get out!” You snarled from behind him, teeth bared and eyes crazy, your body wrapped in a little towel. He blinked at you for a second before promptly apologising for the intrusion and slinked out of the room, jumping lightly at the loud slam and click of the lock.

“She’s in heat.” Steve groaned from his spot in the hall. Your sweet scent had wafted throughout the house, alerting Steve of your vulnerability. His cock hardened in his pants as his pupils dilated, matching the same look Bucky had.

Both of your poor alphas went to bed painfully hard, trying to ignore your soft yowls from the other room. You tried to hold off, deal with the feeling on your own but you couldn’t, you needed them.

Steve awoke instantly at the creak of their door, his nose twitching at your smell. He glanced over to Bucky who clutched your pillow, still fast asleep.

Your whimpers grew closer, the bed dipping under your weight as you crawled onto the mattress, until you straddled Steve.

“Stevieee,” you moaned weakly, your hips grinding into his brief covered crotch, your pussy hot against him. You whined as his length twitched against you, hardening easily.

“Oh angel, you’re in heat?” He asked, his large hands helping you move. When you nodded he snarled, flipping you both over until your head made contact with the pillow in Bucky’s arms, Steve’s head nuzzling into your neck, his teeth nipping and licking at your bonding mark. The ministrations had your sweet scent flowing from you in waves. The scent woke Bucky up, his hot breath on the side of your face as he growled lowly.

“Babygirl, you finally come around?” He chuckled at the pathetic sound that fell from your lips, your hand carding through Steve’s dirty blonde locks as he kissed down your almost naked body. Your panties clung to you as another wave of slick fell from you.

“Don’t k-know why…mm Stevie…just felt hot and needy,” you babbled, tears pooling in your water line as you looked up at Bucky. He thought you looked absolutely ravishing, your lip petted and swollen from your lip biting, your body flushed and glistening already.

“You shouldn’t have held back from us omega, you know we live to serve you.” You cried out at his words, nodding before leaning up slightly to slot his lips with yours.

Steve’s chuckle vibrated against your core as he watched how desperate you were. Steve didn’t mind that you and Bucky had such a close relationship, you were his first after all, but he knew you loved him too. Especially when he suckled on your sweet scent through your cotton panties.

“Mmm Stevieee,” your head fell back onto the sheets, your mouth gaping as your eyes fell shut, the fingers in his hair tugging tightly.

“You like that angel? Like your Alpha tasting you? Taste so sweet omega, so fucking sweet.” He growled, hooking a finger into the gusset of your panties before devouring your pussy.

Your sweet moans and whines were like music to your Alphas ears, your hips grinding up and practically riding Steve’s bearded face. You came undone when his nose nudged your sensitive little bud, your cunt gushing over his bearded face. You didn’t even know you could leak that much.

“Oh pleasepleaseplease Alpha, need your knot so bad, so so so bad,” you sobbed, uncaring of who’s knot you got, you just needed to be filled.

“Ok babygirl, alphas got you ok? We’ll let Stevie fuck that weeping cunt first alright, since he was such a good boy and made you cum” Bucky moved so he was sitting behind you, his arms holding your hips while Steve slipped your panties off before moving each of your feet to rest on his bulging thighs, spreading you out for the blonde haired man.

You keened at the sight of Steve’s long length, the curve of his cock decorated in thick, rope like veins leading to a fat tip. He might not have been as thick as Bucky but he still stretched you out nice.

You both moaned in tandem with each other as Steve sunk into you, his head grazing the rigid skin of your sweet spot making you clench around him almost painfully.

“Ohh fuck angel so tight, mmm relax lemme breed that sweet pussy ‘mega” he was panting already, balls slapping against you as he fucked you deeply, making sure you could feel everything. Your soft noises mixed with the slick slapping sound and wet squelching filled the room, your pussy gushing all over the sheets. You must’ve looked pathetic, wailing for your alphas cock to breed you full.

To both of them though, you were the sexiest fucking thing ever. Bucky lipsed down your neck, whispering sweet nothings to you as Steve picked up his pace.

“Ohh there we go babygirl, taking it like a fucking champ. Stevie gonna breed you full of his pups yeah? Look at how soaked you’ve got him, such a good little omega”

Bucky’s filthy words paired with Steve’s swelling knot sent you over the edge, your screams reverberating off the walls—neighbours be damned. Steve followed suit, pressing as deep as he could into you before spilling his seed, his knot swollen to full size to prevent anything from slipping out.

You might’ve blacked out, you don’t know, the only thing you could vaguely register was Steve’s teeth biting down on your dark mark, causing another shockwave of your orgasm to shoot through you.

“There we go babygirl that’s it took it so well, ohh my fucking god” Steve’s chest rumbled with laughter as he settled, grabbing the water Bucky handed him and gulping down gratefully before helping you take a drink yourself.

Both of them moved so that you lay on top of Steve, waiting for the swell of his knot to settle. Bucky’s fingers brushed through your locks, his head laying on Steve’s other pec so he could kiss you gently.

“Take a little nap babygirl ‘cause once Stevie’s knot is gone I’m gonna fucking ruin that cunt, ok?” Despite the sweet way he spoke you knew Bucky meant every single word of it. And your pussy throbbed with excitement.

“We are never gonna survive this” Steve joked after you’d fallen asleep, his hand running up and down your bare arm. Bucky laughed in agreement before speaking,

“We’ll give it our best shot.”

523 notes · View notes

latenighttalkinqwp · 1 month ago

Note

hii!! can you do that trend were reader calls paige by a another name?

tiktok trends with paige! ( pt. 10 )

based off of this tiktok trend!

“hey guys! okay so i went shopping today and i was gonna give a little haul.” you smile, adjusting the bags beside you so they could be easier to grab. “so me and a couple of the girls went for a drive to like a bigger mall that we don’t have around, just to do something fun before we are crazy busy during summer .” you smile at paige as she walks into your room, looking around. “baby, have you seen my practice jersey? i’ve looked all over- oh hey.” she looks over at you, before making eye contact with your phone. “no i haven’t, maybe look under the gym bags by the door?” you offer, adjusting the sephora bag that’s sitting in your lap. “okay, let me go check.” she runs out, ponytail swinging behind her.

you hold up a couple of products that you got from sephora, moving the empty bag. “okay- next we went to free people. oh here it is, oliv- shit. paige!” you yell picking up her practice jersey that was hidden under your bags. looking at the camera, you try and hold back a laugh knowing she was stomping down the hall. “what did you say?” she leans on the doorframe, narrowing her eyes down at you. “i said paige, i found your practice jersey. it was under my bags.” you roll your eyes, holding out the jersey to her. “mm, that’s not what i heard.” she yanks the jersey from you, crossing her arms. “okay, well i said paige. maybe it’s cause you got that music turned up loud.” you shrug your shoulders, turning back to continue the video.

“baby. don’t play with me right now. who the fuck is olivia?” paige walks over to you, grabbing your chin so you have to look at her. “i don’t even know an olivia!” you try and defend yourself, while also holding back a laugh. she rolled her eyes, dropping your chin and storming out of your room. “paige- paige. baby, it was just a prank.” you giggle, running after her. she narrows her eyes at you, flipping off the camera. “mmm, we will discuss this later.” she kisses you harshly, before walking out of your apartment for practice.

“well- i mean i guess a win is a win yall.”

- thank you so much for reading all the way through! find more of this series on my masterlist! likes and reblogs are appreciated 💘

- this one has been in the drafts for a minute, but i have so many to post so bare with me yall.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers head cannons #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers headcannons #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #jazzies anons💝#jazzies asks🥳#jazzies masterlist #my mutuals 💜

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kyeomofhearts · 4 months ago

Text

Bad Boy!Wonwoo x Reader Headcannons

[☻] found this little gem while going through my (various) drafts! this was honestly what pushed me to create back for more sooo… why not post it while you guys wait for part 3? just think of it as a little prologue hehe <3

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who would almost always come to class late. Not caring about the attention he would get for disrupting the class.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who would come into campus with a sleek black motorcycle, helmet in hand, and a face that rarely displayed emotion.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who never actually caused any trouble, well, at least not anymore. But there was something that made people wary of him—including you.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who you've known for almost your whole life—having gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school…and now university. You both even shared the same group of friends but you two were never particularly close by any means.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who was always just there. He was the quiet kid who never stood out too much, always hanging around your shared friend group but never making an effort to be the center of attention.

If you had to describe him back then, you would say he was reserved. You knew how he could get when he was with his close group of friends so it wasn’t like he was shy, he just wasn’t open with everyone.

You don’t remember ever having a full-blown conversation with him either. Just small interactions here and there, nothing too serious.

Which is why his new behavior is odd to you.

Bad Boy!Wonwoo who had eyes all over him for the first few months of school—but he didn’t mind them.

Not when he had his sights set on you.

It started off small. A glance that lingered for too long, a smirk that felt too intentional, or a passing comment that seemed designed to get under your skin.

Then, suddenly, he was everywhere.

Showing up at the same campus cafe you normally went to. Catching your arm just as were about to walk past him. Even walking you to your classes—you felt like it was nearly impossible to escape Wonwoo these days.

Even when you talked with him, you noticed just how close he was. It was just enough to make you move back, just enough to make you aware of him.

It wasn’t flirting, not really, but the way he watched your reactions made it feel like some kind of game.

You don’t understand why he’s suddenly interested in you (if you can even consider it like that).

But… after all these years, why now?

What you didn’t know was that Wonwoo had liked you for many years by now. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a small hallway crush if anything.

He never planned on acting upon his interest in you, if he was being honest. Preferring to admire from a distance.

But then, he saw you again. Attending the same university as him. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

So now he’s making sure you see him.

Read [Back For More] here.

491 notes · View notes

starsinthesky5 · 5 months ago

Text

you are in love: l'amour de ma vie || joe burrow x reader

description: a little bridge between the last part of YAIL into part 5 which will be coming soon! little moments from the france trip and some stuff from home 🖤

universe: you are in love (click for parts 1-4 of the series)

a/n: been in my drafts since June of 2024. and here she is :) would love some feedback and if you’d like to see more of this for this series!

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeyburrrow @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @majestic87 @grittysbiggestfan @definitelynotdomanique

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

📍cannes, france

liked by: joeyb_9, lahjay10_, killatrav, y/bsf_21, taylorswift, and others

tagged: joeyb_9

y/n_y/ln: ocean blue eyes, looking in mine

comments:

joeyb_9: la plus belle fille que j'ai jamais vue

——— y/n_y/ln: tu me rends le plus heureux 😙😙

——— fan14: he said she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. shut the fuck up oh my god

——— fan938: did she just say he makes her the happiest? oh pack it up fellas it's wraps

fan6: i can’t believe we’re back to her casually posting my relationship era. thank you joe burrow for your services 🫡

fan1348: i don’t even know who’s winning in this relationship like they’re both HOT as fuck

y/bsf: 🛥️ the ship has sailed folks

fan_71: the heart on his back? god when is it my turn

fan273: they’re so cute 🥲

fan28288: that caption feels oddly like song lyrics y/n 😟

fan1717: i am so happy for her 🥺 she deserves this after all these years

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📍cannes, france

liked by: y/n_y/ln, lahjay_10, jjetas2, killatrav, y/bsf_21, and others

tagged: y/n_y/ln

joeyb_9: photo dump?

comments:

y/n_y/ln: he’s learninggg 🤞

——— joeyb_9: creds to the best 🧎‍♂️

y/n_y/ln: wear that alo two piece more often. damn 🤤

——— joeyb_9: yes ma’am 🫡

—————— lahjay_10: aye 🤨

fan226: y/n has joe doing photo dumps now? are we in heaven?

fan9191: everytime they pop up on my feed my jaw drops because I still can’t believe it’s true

fan8877: he brought her with him to the events 🥺

fan5874: atta boy joe! winning on and off the field like a true king

fan2727: that last photo of her...hello. HELLO

lahjay_10: i was in baton rouge for 5 seconds and shiesty went hollywood? damn

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📍french riviera

liked by: enews, bengalslover47, y/ncollective, ybsf_21, wasitover_10, and others

tagged: y/n_y/ln, joeyb_9

gridback_news: love is officially in bloom under the french riviera sun! 🌹✨ multi-platinum and grammy award winning artist, y/n and superstar NFL quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, joe burrow were spotted on an intimate stroll through the charming streets of cannes, looking completely smitten with one another. from soft smiles to stolen glances, the chemistry between these two is undeniable. after months of speculation, their outings in france seem to confirm what fans have been buzzing about: romance is in full swing and the fans are here for it! could this be the new power couple we’ve been waiting for? 🖤

#cannesinlove #yxj #couplegoals #romanceinfrance

comments:

bengalslover47: the king of cincy has finally found his queen everyone. may she bring us good luck and make joe the happiest he's ever been. amen

y/ncollective: ARM PLACEMENTS? and she looks so small next to him 💗

y/nfan0: oh joey b you are so loved by us.

fan8: qb1 scoring touchdowns on and off the field. y’all are the ultimate power couple

fan38: can we talk about how joe went from breaking defenses to breaking hearts? he just bagged the woman of the CENTURY

——— fan.18: every man and woman in america just fell to their knees

fan9_: oooooof her new album is going to HIT

——— fan!6: new album? did i miss something

—————— fan9_: grammy's coming up...she always goes out with a bang then 👀 just connecting some dots

rulethejungle5: and they said i was crazy when i said i heard some things around town about these two

xoxogossipgirllover: i need to get the scoop on these two! damn 😍🔥

fan3893_0: INJECT IT INTO MY VIENS MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING

fan84: anyone notice y/n's best friend liked the post? tea ☕️

fan82828: oh the album is coming everyone. it’s coming soon. WE MADE IT

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📍paris, france

liked by: y/n_y/ln, joeyb_9, usweekly, bengalslover47, y/ncollective, ybsf_21, wasitover_10, and others

tagged: y/n_y/ln, joeyb_9

gridback_news: spotted: y/n and joe burrow turning heads in paris, strolling hand in hand and serving effortlessly chic looks 👀✨ with fashion week just around the corner, fans are buzzing about whether this stylish duo might make an appearance. whatever the occasion, one thing’s for sure—they’re absolutely owning the parisian streets!

an exclusive source has confirmed their relationship, revealing that joe and y/n are very happy together and share a connection built on trust, understanding, and mutual respect. their relationship has been growing behind the scenes for much longer than anyone realized, and their bond is stronger than ever. y/n has fully embraced life in cincinnati, and together they’ve created a solid foundation that balances their busy lives with a love that feels effortless. right now, they’re focused on enjoying each other and making memories—and it’s safe to say, happiness looks good on them. 💕

#parislove #yxj #styleandgrace #fashionweekvibes

comments:

fan9493: FIRST PAP WALK? IN PARISSS? oh we are so back y/n nation. that girl is in LOVE

y/ncollective: they look phenomenal

y/nfan0: manifesting a fashion week appearance

fan02: peep both their likes on this post...

fan-19: wonder if their gonna go to vouge world?

——— gridback_news: 👀👀

fan521_: this photo would do numbers on wattpad a few years ago

fan91: she seems so much happier and comfortable with joe. that’s how you know she’s thriving again. just look at them

fan18_brq: embraced life in cincy? and that’s a big fuck you to her ex! wack him again for me HAHAH

xoxogossipgirllover: i heard that they'll be at YSL's show tomorrow...watch this space

fan0101: wait…how long have they actually been together because-

fan3939: i need football season to come faster. need her in the stands this year!!! she has such great style

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📍paris, france

liked by: joeyb_9, lahjay10_, jjetas2, y/bsf_21, taylorswift, gracieabrams, ysl, sabrinacarpenter, and others

tagged: joeyb_9

y/n_y/ln: thank you for an amazing night @ ysl 🖤

comments:

y/bsf_21: god damn you look amazing

——— y/n_y/n: i love you 💞

joeyb_9: starry skies 🌌

——— y/n_y/ln: ...starry eyes?

—————— joeyb_9: ....darkest nights?

———————————— fan3010: what are they talking about 🤨

lahjay10_: lookin fly mademoiselle

——— y/n_y/ln: feelin fly uno 😴

fan9393: oh they absolutely ate this up. 10/10 no notes

ysl: thank you both for joining us!

joeyb_9: beautiful as always

——— y/n_y/ln: lover 💘

bengals: 👑 🐅

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📍vogue world

liked by: tmz, y/ncollective, rulethejungle, bengalsfan4949, enews, and 1.5 million others

tagged: y/n_y/ln

gridback_news: breaking alert 🚨: y/n spotted looking absolutely stunning at the vogue world fashion show, where rumors are swirling that her boyfriend, joe burrow, is set to make his runway debut alongside friend and fellow nfl star, justin jefferson 🏈✨ sources say y/n is here to cheer joe on as he steps into the world of high fashion for the first time, sharing in what’s sure to be a monumental moment for him. from the field to the runway, this power couple is proving they’re unstoppable 🔥

#vogueworld #joeburrow #yxj #fashionmeetsfootball

comments: have been limited under this post

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📍pfw

liked by: y/n_y/ln, jjetas2, lahjay10_, bengals, y_bsf21, samhubbard, vouge, killatrav, and 5.6 million others

tagged: vouge, y/n_y/ln

joeyb_9: with @ vougemagazine doing some new things :)

comments:

y/n_y/ln: i am so so so proud of you joey ❤️

——— joeyb_9: my biggest cheerleader. ilyttmats

—————— fan383: did he...did he just quote "seven"? OH MY GOD HE QUOTED SEVEN

—————— fan29: im going to be sick this is so 🥲

jjetas2: shiesty in all black

samhubbard: nice 😎

fan302: peak couple behavior is the matching loubitans. we're witnessing the couple of the decade y'all. buckle up

y/n_y/ln: put the back away joseph lee there's people around 😦

——— joeyb_9: why don't you come help me out then ;)

—————— y_bsf21: guys...there's people watching

————————— y/n_y/ln: oopsies 🙊

bengals: alright joe! 🐅

killatrav: 🔥

vouge: a natural star 🌟

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📍fashion week

liked by: joeyb_9, lahjay10_, y/ncollective, rulethejungle, bengalsfan11, y/bsf_21, taylorswift, and others

tagged: joeyb_9

y/n_y/ln: come here dressed in black now

comments:

joeyb_9: bestest week with l'amour de ma vie

——— y/n_y/ln: 🥹

—————— y/ncollective: joe please keep her this happy im not okay :(

——— fan39: LOVE OF HIS LIFE!! HE SAID LOVE OF HIS LIFE

—————— fan30303: WHAT

taylorswift: love it!!!! you both killed it :)

——— y/n_y/ln: 💗

fan3003: love seeing them happy together! they both deserve this

fan1991: has anyone noticed the black theme/aesthetic she has going on? her last few posts have been…dark

——— fan181.y/n_: wait a second. you’re onto something??

fan111: give me that album now rachel. GIVE IT TO ME.

loverofy/n: girl we need new music. like NOW

fan9339-_: already the most iconic couple we've seen in years.

lahjay10_: y'all killin it 🙂‍↕️

——— y/n_y/ln: we miss youuuu

——— joeyb_9: dinner at our place when we get back?

vouge: a beauty ✨

fan2882: how much y’all wanna bet that her caption is song lyrics

y_bsf21: STUNNER? HOT? JOE MOVE OVER

——— y/n_y/ln: im in tears joe's giving me a frowny face because he feels threatened

—————— y_bsf_21: good.

——— joeyb_9: I will NOT be moving over ma'am

enews: setting the streets of paris on fire as well as all our hearts 💕🥰

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joeyb_9 via Instagram Stories

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y/n_y/ln via Instagram Stories

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--The End--

stay tuned for you are in love V

#joe burrow #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow bengals #joey b #yail #nfl imagine

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ovadzs · 1 month ago

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“sportscar”-

summary: you are an endlessly talented artist/model/influencer and adored by millions of fans, but remain stubbornly single. this doesn’t stop your fans from shipping you with Lando Norris, though. So your best friend (and agent) Clara decides to set some things in motion behind your back. unfortunately, what she didn’t expect was the fact that you fucking despise that man. but it’s only a week of shooting together, for his brand and for your new song: sportscar. so, how bad can it be?

word count: 7.6k

fic content/warnings: female reader, use of you/she, enemies to lovers (one sided), hate/anger, lando is kinda ooc, kinda angsty, not properly proof read!!

author notes: hi gang!! this was SO entertaining to write but longgg and exam season is KICKING MY ASS so once i’m done i have an oscar fic waiting to write 😙 (childhood friends/lovers, fluffy and with posts etc can’t wait!!) this fic is obviously based on tate posting that INSANE video in the lando jersey omg ??? also, pink haired diva Clara might be my new reoccurring character cause i LOVE herrr !! anyway enjoy

Sometimes you forget how truly famous you are. How expansive your fanbase is. An established model, with a mass following. And now you’ve just sold out your first stadium show. You never believed in those ‘I've made it’ moments, but you were sort of feeling that way.

And you managed to do all it, somewhat on your own. Sure, you had a bit of help. People you depended on. Unwavering support from your parents, and your best friend Clara-your agent. Soulmates existed, you were sure of it. She was a great example of that, and you loved her more deeply than you thought possible. She was truly your greatest friend. You meant more like, without a partner. You were too career focused, too determined, to let a man get in your way. A liability, not worth taking. You had a cat, and a fucking massive apartment, and Clara, and a family you adored. What else did you need?

Well, the fans sure didn't feel the same. They clung onto every arm in photos, every appearance. They were desperate to see you with someone, regardless of what you wanted. They really annoyed you sometimes, but you were eternally grateful. Their choice of eligible bachelor at the moment was Lando Norris, the F1 Driver. It was no secret that you enjoyed F1, because you regularly went to watch the Miami Grand Prix, occasionally making appearances at others. And you were often sporting some orange clothes, or sometimes even Lando’s iconic neon merch. So naturally, they wanted to see you together. A definite ‘power couple.’ But funnily enough, you’d never actually met him. Your social circles seemed to refuse to overlap. Sure, he commented on some posts, and vice versa. Consistent story likes and good luck messages. You’re pretty sure he attended one of your shows last year, but you don't know for certain.

However, what you did know is that you LOVED messing with your followers. So you fished through your drafts, and found a video of you in your LN4 jersey, lip-syncing to a snippet of your upcoming song, ‘Sportscar.’ Without thinking, you hit post, grinning to yourself.

And not even a minute later, it's blown up, likes and comments flooding in. And one catches your eye, from the man himself.

‘good taste.’

You smirk slightly but don’t bother to like it, you just wait for the inevitable phone call from Clara instead.

“Okay, as your unspoken social media manager, please please PLEASE!!! warn me before you start posting crazy shit.” comes her flustered voice, her surprise etched clearly on her face through the screen.

“Sorry, I had to. The comments are just SO funny.” you admit, laughing at your fan accounts literally losing their minds. Clara’s hands are stained pink from the damp hair dye in her hair, and you cackle at how overwhelmed she looks. “I promise I'll give you at least 30 seconds of warning, next time, okay?”

She huffs. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I was going to ask this yesterday and forgot, so this is perfect. I’ve been talking to Lando’s equivalent of me, I think. I don’t really know what he does. And he was hinting how brilliant a collab would be. I didn't agree to anything,” she says hurriedly, “but it would be brilliant. For us, and for them. Just think of the publicity!” she clamours, and you hear a chaotic crash behind her.

You’ve covered this before, so that's why she asks so quickly, because she knows what's coming.

“Clara, come on. You know I don’t want to do any collabs, or anything.” you say truthfully, but she just sighs as you, exasperated.

“Look, you’re like- shockingly famous and successful. You’ve made a name for yourself, and this isn’t going to change that.” she replies, and you know she's probably right, but you just can't do it.

You crave that independence, that knowledge that you’ve never thrown names around or cozied up to anyone to chase money and fame. You worked yourself to death, sleepless nights humming to yourself, sewing outfits. So you didn’t want anyone, even Norris, putting his name near yours. You could deal with the speculation, but you weren’t about to get outshone. Watch as with each photo that dropped, you slowly becoming an extension of him. Sure, you both owned your corners of the world, neither one of you more famous than the other. If anything, you were possibly more known than him. But there was something so horrifying, about your brand slowly becoming infused with foreign faces and strangers that you don't care for. You wouldn't mind having your family or Clara or your close friends dancing with you in a music video, or posing behind you in shoots. But a cash grab, a weak attempt to rise up the charts, you refused. Maybe it was petty. Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn’t care.

“Clara, it just doesn't feel right. Sure, it fits with Sportscar, and yeah maybe the fans would love it. And I'm happy to drop the occasional video or whatever, and I wouldn't even mind meeting him, but I don't want him anywhere near my name or my brand. I don't want anyone to clarify. I’m sure he’s great, it's not personal. You can tell that to HIS Clara, yeah?” you say clearly, and you see her nod, distracted.

And even though you trust her with your life, that faraway look in her eye stresses you out. There are very few things you disagree on, and this is one of them. You both know it. And you know how easily she could make a contract, and that's it. You and Lando, official partners. Of business, obviously. But she wouldn't do that, would she?

***

Funny, how varied your evenings were. Last night, typing away on your laptop, cosied up in bed, facetime Clara. Now, dressed in a tiny outfit and possibly too much makeup for such a dark space, catching the club lights on your belt buckle. You were in the poshest, most expensive club you could find, but the people inside didn't seem to reflect that. Rich, but dickheads. You wondered what you were doing there.

Clara was long gone, dancing under the lights nearby, twirling aimlessly with a group of people as wasted as her. You were often envious of how magnetic she was, easily drawing in people. You questioned how she was in the one in the shadows, and you were the famous one, prancing around on stage.

“HEY! Look who it is. Glad to finally meet you!” came a shockingly loud shout, right into your poor, unsuspecting ear.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter, batting away your assailant. You turn, expecting a crazed fan, but you’re surprised to see an offended Formula One driver instead.

“Oh. Oh! Lando, hey. Sorry about that.” you reply, dropping your raised arm. He comes too close to you again, shouting back into your ear.

“It’s okay!!!!!!” he bellows, and you have to resist the urge to hit him again. He’s slurring his words slightly, and you’re almost surprised he's still standing.

“Can you maybe, not? Shout in my ear, I mean. I can hear you.” you say matter of factly, suddenly feeling much more sober. You always got more irritable when you had something to drink, and right now Lando was getting on your last nerve, even if you’d literally just met.

“Oh yeah, sorry mate. I like your outfit, shame you’re not wearing my top though.” he says simply, swaying embarrassingly to the music. You smile at him gently, trying to stop your skin from crawling. It wasn't his fault, but you seriously didn't want to be there anymore. Maybe it was something about him being such a mystery, or some wild speculation. Him, being right there, barely thinking straight, was not what you wanted to see. You didn't even know why you'd come. You always hated clubs, the music was always too loud and you preferred dancing when you knew the choreography.

“Well, thanks. Didn’t feel like being a highlighter tonight though,” you joke, but it doesn't land. Probably because your arms are folded and your voice is deadly serious.

“Huh.” he says, clearly put off. “Thought you were a fan.” he mutters, rolling his eyes at you. And maybe he's joking too, but the tension isn't right, so you just roll your eyes back at him, and he stiffens.

This was not how you imagined meeting him for the first time. It was almost weird, how dry the air was between you. You just, didnt mind him? He’d annoyed you a bit, sure, but that was forgivable. But there was no excitement, no tension, nothing.

“Do you want to dance, or something?” he asks suddenly, watching you eye up the door.

You pause, trying to be polite. “Sorry, I’m actually exhausted. I promise I'm not usually this tense, really. I’m just going to go home, but I need to let my friend know. The pink haired one, there. You see her?” you point, grinning at her as she points back between you and Lando, but you subtly shake your head at her. You hope he doesn't notice, but unfortunately for you, he does.

He straightens up by you, scowling a bit. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll see you around then, maybe.” he says firmly, and you just nod reassuringly. You let Clara know you’re leaving and she quickly hugs you goodbye as you make your way to the door.

As soon as you step out, and the cool night breeze hits your face, you immediately feel so much better. You almost want to apologise to Lando,since he was clearly just loud and irritatingly happy, but it's too late.

“Hey, wait up!!”

Maybe it isn't too late.

“Huh, Lando? What are you doing out here?” you ask, and he pauses for breath.

“I felt like maybe it was awkward back there? Like I was annoying you or something, and I wanted to apologise, in case I did something.” he says, still hiccuping slightly.

You laugh, it coming out colder than you intended. Like you were laughing at his average apology.

“No, it’s fine.” you say firmly, smiling gently now.

He nods, unconvinced. “So, why’d you shake your head, when fucking Pinkie-Pie in there asked about me?” he replies, sounding sort of angry. You can tell he didn't mean to offend you, but your jaw slackens.

“She prefers other animated characters. Starfire, at least. Although her personal favourite is being compared to Granmamare from Ponyo. However, her name works just fine. Clara.” you say decidedly, giving him one last chance, before you actually do get annoyed.

“Don’t know it, sorry. But hey, that's Clara, huh? She’s been in contact with my agent a lot recently, right?” he replies.

Thankful he dropped the head shake, you nod. “Yeah, but I don’t do collabs.” you murmur, still not warming up to him.

He seems to feel the same. “What, not good enough for you?” he replies snarkily, sneering at you.

“What? Of course not.” you fire back, earnestly, but he’s clearly got that into his head.

“One look at me, and you tell Clara it's not happening. One shake of the head,yeah? Not worth the time, yeah?” he continues, and hitting him crosses your mind for a second time.

“Oh, get over it! It’s not about you. You’re too loud, and too drunk. I don’t even know you, what are you doing right now? Coming up with another bullshit apology? I told you I was tired, how egotistical can you be?” you shriek, and it all comes spilling out of you.

You rarely take your anger out on anyone, but here he is. A drunk, angry, confused, Lando, who keeps fucking looking at you like you’re some elitist snob, like he isn’t filthy rich too. An easy easy target.

“Fucking hell, I chased after you because I DID want to get to know you, and thought I’d blown it just cause you’re in a bad mood. But no, turns out you’re just, mean? I’m not egotistical, just aware. Don’t try and act like I’m wrong.” he calls back, matching your volume.

You scoff loudly, stomping towards him. The air isn't dry now, it's full of venom and anger. Also, you’re freezing, and he’s evidently warm from his flushed face and the way you can feel his hot breath and the heat radiating from his body.

“I’m not mean, dickhead. You called MY best friend Pinkie-pie!!” you protest, and as soon as the words leave your mouth, you realise you’re definitely drunker than you thought.

He laughs at you, and you lose it.

“You know what, you’re right. I don’t do collabs, like ever. But I was close to thinking about reaching out to you. I thought you’d be cool, or whatever. And instead you're just a little boy, who can’t handle alcohol and bellows in people’s ear. You’re obnoxious!!” you shout, your faces practically touching.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head.

“No, no I’m not done!!” you continue, spinning away from him, laughing. “Yeah, maybe it was bullshit. I’m not tired. You just made me irritated. Like, those two lines of talking with you dampened my fucking mood. But you know what? What if I was just tired? Tired, and drunk, and walking home. And you were going to come over and what? Hound me for answers about some weird gesture I did to my friend. Call me an angry, mean, antisocial bitch?” you ask, letting all your emotions fly out viciously from your hoarse throat.

He’s visibly hurt, but also visibly impressed. He just blinks, unsure of what to do next.

“Soooo, Mr Norris. No, I will not be seeing you around, maybe. Thank fuck we aren’t collaborating together, huh? It would've been a nightmare.”

“A trainwreck.” he agrees, clearly bemused.

“Wow, glad we finally agreed on something!” you say sarcastically, turning around to begin your walk home. But you pause, flipping him off first, and you stare at him long enough to see him return the favour. And the only thing you can think to do, to essentially get the last word, is to stick your tongue out at him.

And then he's blinking again, surprised, and you speed off before you see any other of his facial expressions.

“For the record, I didn't call you a bitch.” he calls out, but you keep your finger firmly extended in the air.

***

The next day flies by, but you spend almost all of it in bed, replaying the night before. His stupid, smug, face. You actually start to hate him more now. Who was he, to think he had some claim to getting to know you?

What a pathetic little man.

You were desperate to ramble about your interaction with Clara, but she was knocked out, you presumed. She hadn’t been online for almost 18 hours.

So when her little icon changes from an offputting grey to vivid green, you grin, eagerly calling her.

“Oh my GOD Clara. He was not what I was expecting at all! Insufferable, really. I’ve been thinking about how I dodged a bullet, and I’m so seriously grateful I can avoid him indefinitely now. Might have to burn my merch.” you joke loudly, properly waking her up.

She freezes, guilt clouding her whole face. And then she bursts into the loudest fit of giggles you’ve heard in a while.

“What if I told you you didn’t dodge that bullet, like, at all? And at 10am tomorrow you have a shoot with him? Wearing his brand?” she stammers, still giggling and you feel a laugh bubble in your throat.

But when she looks at you, suddenly deadly serious, that laugh sours and viciously burns you. And you've never wanted anything more than to strangle her. So you hang up instead.

CLARA:

im sorry

lol

not that sorry

no wait yes i am

i shouldnt of gone behind ur back like that, ofc

but im not sorry that lando is an asshole

can i come watch pls

YOU:

stfu

ur lucky i havent fired you

wait

why havent i fired u yet ??

consider this a formal warning

CLARA:

hes hot tho

YOU:

this is ur boss

what r u talking about

CLARA:

lando ?

liek sure maybe hes annoying asf but

like***

you’ll defo look good together

YOU:

idk what ur talking about

hes not even the best looking driver on the grid

also hes punching

CLARA:

its just a shoot babe ur not betrothed

btw the contract goes both ways

ur not just modelling for him

YOU:

whatthefuckdoumean

clara

what did u do

…

clara this is ur boss

reply immediately

CLARA:

“boy dont make me choose”

guess whos playing said ‘boy’ in the sportscar mv

thank me later???

YOU:

oh my

please be joking

have u READ??? those lyrics

ur taking the mick

im going to kill you

this actually cant be happening

has HE READ THOSE LYRICS?

oh my god

cnacnel

abort immediately

CLARA:

10am tomorrow

ill send u the address later

enjoy x

btw u legally have to go

like u might get sued if u dont

not might, will. please go!!

YOU:

i want u on the set for sportscar too

CLARA:

umm, why? as your intimacy co-ordinator

hah im SO funny

YOU:

so i can run u over

you can admire him up close as you both become speedbumps

that wasnt funny btw

***

You barely sleep, and when the sun rolls into your room, you sigh, waving it away. Doomsday is a mere few hours away, and you can’t get his stupid fucking face out of your head. You actually hate him. Truly, hate him. And you hate hating people, so this really isn’t ideal.

Also, ‘sportscar’ is kind of insane, by your standards. Unhinged, maybe. You didn't even WANT to make a music video for it, but they are sort of your thing. So you thought something cool, you driving around or something. A strategic orange car (again, you enjoyed messing with fans.) but you hadn't thought about having really anyone else but you. It was an awkward video to film with anyone, sure. And you weren’t exactly, not awkward?

You raise your head from your pillow, just to throw it straight back down, exasperated. A shoot, you could get through, just. But some of the lyrics, the general impression of the song? Even you wouldn't be able to pass that off as a little joke, that was actually crazy. What was Clara THINKING? You curse her again, for the millionth time that day, and you watch the clock tick. Until you seriously do have to get up.

She’d instructed you to come with no makeup, nothing. Just show up, and his stylists would take care of the rest. The silence, the lights, flashes would all be bearable. But posing with him, fake-smiling at him? Definitely a challenge. You actually felt the life being sucked out of you at the thought. So you breathe, cracking a grin, and you let your face get used to it. Since you’d be plastering that all day.

***

The studio is nice. Modern. Not too big, but not cramped either. Plenty of make-up artists, hair stylists, designers flit around, but you aren't claustrophobic. That is until he walks in, and then suddenly the walls collapse on you.

He grins straight at you, overly cheerily, and you instinctively scowl back. Oops. Good start. In response he mimes like he’s just been shot, deeply wounded, on the brink of death. You just shake your head, rolling your eyes at his immaturity. That practiced smile, immediately disappearing.

About half an hour later, you’re both dressed and ready. You sport a more subtle LN4 themed outfit, with small details sewn throughout your matching top and bottom half. He’s wearing a more masculine outfit, in a darker colour, but you both look incredibly harmonious. And surprisingly, you realise Clara is right. You actually do sort of look brilliant together. Shame he’s so fucking annoying.

The photographer seems blissfully unaware of how much you detest the man to your right. Either he’s an idiot, or you’re an incredible actor. You assume it’s a bit of both.

So when he asks you to sit on a block beside Lando, and rest your head carefully on his chest, you almost start a riot.

Lando winks at you, and you swear you might just kill him, right there on camera. But you just breathe, not looking at him any longer, and you smile gently for the flash in front of you.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he asks, murmuring into your ear. It's an improvement from when he deafened you, but you hate how close he is.

“Immensely so.” you hiss back, and he laughs at you bitterly.

So you decide to ram your pretty large heel straight into his foot, bitterly. And although he doesn't yelp, like you hoped, he grimaces and you feel him stiffen. Good enough.

“Sorry, are you uncomfortable? You sure look uncomfortable.” you whisper back, and you watch his bared teeth shift into a dazzling smile. ANd you realise Clara is right, yet again. A theme you were not liking. But admittedly, he was attractive. And that just made you even more annoyed.

The rest of the day went by about the same. You basically either looked like you wanted to die, or you wanted him to die, until you heard the click. Then you were smiling, like you actually didn’t mind staring at him warmly as the photographer walked around you.

Then came an unexpected brief- just talk naturally. Candids, they wanted. So they positioned you next to each other, spread out on the same sleek couch, your legs occupying the same small space, and told you to have a conversation.

You had nothing you wanted to say to him, so you waited for him to speak first. So he did.

“You truly are a professional, huh?” he comments, a permanent gleam in his eyes.

“Can’t say the same for you. I wouldn’t quit your day job.” you snap back, absent-mindedly.

“Wasn’t going to. I love racing.” he replies, shrugging, and you decide to give him a moment of respite from your disgusting looks and harsh words.

“Okay, that's common ground. Let's talk about it, alright? That way he’ll get his photos, and I can get out of here.” you say firmly, and he cocks his head to the side, staring at you inquisitively.

“Alright. Sure. So, what’s your favourite race you’ve been to?” he asks, and you pause.

“Miami, last year, was pretty good.” you admit, forgetting one crucial detail about that race.

He didn't, though. His eyebrows shoot up, hidden behind his curly hair.

“Are you kidding? My first race win, and that’s your favourite. And I thought you HATED me! Hah.” he laughs, triumphantly, and you groan.

“Shut up. And I didn’t hate you then. Cause I didn't know you then.” you say slowly, not realising how truly harsh your words are.

“You don’t even know me, now.” he replies, not missing a beat.

“I know enough.” you shoot back simply, but he just shakes his head at you, exasperated.

“You really don’t. Come on, you could give me another chance.” he mutters, and you hum back at him.

“Yeah, I could. But I pay a lot of attention to first impressions.” you fire back, and he smiles slightly.

“Pretty sure you flipped me off and then stuck your tongue out at me all in the space of two seconds, and I don’t hate you, so?” he sighs, and you just roll your eyes at him, suppressing your own smile.

‘I don't hate you, so.’

You think deeply, ignoring him getting up. Ignoring the photographer packing up. It isn’t until Lando sticks his calloused hand directly above you, helping you up, that you realise you’re finally done. How relieving.

And you take it gracefully, hoisting yourself up. But you just can’t help it. His smirking face. So you yank him backwards, throwing him back onto the couch, and you burst into laughter. The only genuine smile you’ve shown all day. And then you hear it, and you freeze. That stupid click.

And you see that idiot photographer, his face literally beaming. Like he’s just won the lottery. And as you admire the bewildered expression on Lando's face, you realise he has. It’s a great shot.

***

And two days later, your end of the bargain is over. You don’t give Clara any updates. You refuse. She doesn’t deserve the drama. All you tell her is that he’s as annoying as you expected, and you still truly loathe him, but you like his team. And it's funny, making fun of him. You tell her you preferred the Quadrant half of the deal, since you met the designer. How you thought she would love her. And how much you hate her for what’s happening at the weekend.

That’s when he messages you.

LANDO:

whats sportscar actually about?

me??

YOU:

ew no

i thought i blocked u??

get out my dms

LANDO:

harhar

seriously

drop those lyrics

YOU:

you don’t like surprises?

LANDO:

no,i do, but i see the way u look at me when i mention it

like u wanna scratch my eyes out

so go on

YOU:

u asked for it

*photo

LANDO:

i see

that will be fun

YOU:

careful

or i actually will block u

LANDO:

no u wont

your fans will notice

and then u cant randomly drop references of me anymore

which u clearly love to do

YOU:

“harhar”

goodbye lando

LANDO:

see u soon

YOU:

unfortunately

***

The weekend came too soon. No one knew just how much content you and Lando were about to drop. You’d agreed to drop the music video simultaneously with his new collection, so the explosion happened once, and you could face the aftermath together.

And this time, when you arrived at your own studio, your own set, you felt much more relaxed, even though the filming was much more daunting. This was your team. Photos of you and them scattered around. Your favourite director, waving at you. Costumes and lights and greenscreens. Your name, on a door. Clara’s, beside yours. So when he walks in, scouring the scene, your stomach sours. You’d almost forgotten he was coming, to disrupt the peace.

“So, your turf, huh?” he announces, reading your mind.

“Yup. You ever been in a music video before, Norris?” you ask, arms folded.

“Nope.” he replies honestly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. And for a moment, a tiny moment, you think he might just be a little bit nervous.

“Well, you’ll be fine, I'm sure. I said Clara could look after you. She’s more of a fan than I am.” you joke, signalling her over.

She practically skips over, grinning at you. “She’s lying. Not a clue who you are, really. She’ll never drag me to a stupid race. I just called you hot once. To annoy her, may I add. Alright ‘boy’, let's go.” she says rapidly, but choosing to drag the word ‘boy’ heavily, glaring at you.

“Hey, Pinkie-pie. I was looking forward to meeting you, truly. I would've introduced myself the other night, but we all know how that went.” he replies, mimicking her dramatic tone, and she laughs at him. And you hate that they immediately fit together, really well. There's no fire in his eyes when he looks at her, only light.

And she drags him away, so you sidle up to your director. Bardia smiles at you.

“I must admit, I was surprised that you brought Lando here. I didn’t realise you were actually together, I thought it was a big joke.” he huffs, and you stare at him, absolutely horrified.

“Please, never say that again. Lando and I are NOT together- that would be- actually-” you begin, trying not to gag. You’re glad disgust is your main emotion, because for a brief moment you were worried there. That maybe you didn’t hate him anymore. But with what you feel at that suggestion, you’re reassured that you do still detest that man.

He looks at you, confused. “You know we’re filming for ‘sportscar,’ today. Yes? As in, this song.” he begins, playing it from the speakers. And when you watch Lando hear it for the first time and his breath hitches, you find yourself pausing too.

“Yes, I know. Don’t remind me. Clara was an idiot. But seriously, we’re just acquaintances.” you stress, trying not to listen to your own voice.

He scoffs. “Fine, I’ll cut out some of the ideas I had. They definitely won't work if you don't get along, but you’ll have to act like you’re together, alright?”

You blink and nod, trying not to think of what ideas he was thinking of.

***

You love Bardia’s vision, as usual, and paired with Brett’s styling, you both look admittedly phenomenal. And other than a brief moment, when you accidentally exploded at him for getting in your way (you said a lot of things that were unbelievably cruel), it goes quite well. Although, after your outburst, he seemed to shrink a bit. He didn’t argue back, just listened to instructions. Pulled faces when you needed him to. And honestly? You liked him more like that. You were just happy to be almost done with him.

A lot of it was solo work, or you and a few backup dancers. So you made an effort to not watch him and Clara joke off set, laughing to each other. You just focused on the carefully curated choreography, satisfied when you hit each beat. But because you weren't looking at him, you didn't see him looking at you. Staring. His laughs to Clara were absent-minded. He focused entirely on each move you made, admiring your determination. Your subtle skill.

Bardia always shot in chronological order, so you were fucking finally nearing the end of the song, and your torture could end. So when you catch Clara staring at you wide-eyed as he tells her his plans for the outro, you realise this was going to become an actual nightmare.

A train wreck, as someone you know would say.

She rushes over to you as you sip on some water, trying to avoid eye contact with Lando.

“You’re about to blow up again.” she announces, a disgusting smile stretching up her face.

“What.” you say sullenly.

“How comfortable are you sitting on Lando’s lap?” she asks wickedly, and your jaw drops.

“Um, that isn’t happening?” you reply quickly.

“Well, you wrote it in. ‘We can share one seat,’ and all that.” she sings, and you drop your head into your hands.

“No, I refuse to do that.” you respond, shrugging.

“Huh, Lando said you’d refuse. Funny, knows you better than you think.”

“No, he just knows I hate him.” you mutter, shaking your head profusely.

“I don’t think it's that. He thinks you’re scared of him. That you don’t want to be too close to him, but not because you hate him. He’s very cocky, I’ll admit that.” she says, shrugging back.

“You’re JOKING. He doesn’t think it's that, trust me.” you shriek back, and she nods sarcastically.

“I think I’ve spoken to him more in the last half an hour than you have, well, ever. He definitely thinks you’re into him.” she laughs, and you get very very angry again.

“Well, he can fuck off. Fucking idiot. Tell Bardia I want this done, so let's hurry up.” you mumble, and Clara runs off. And across the room, you meet his stare, and you shake your head incredulously at him. He just blinks back.

***

“How come you’re looking at me so funny?” he asks, sitting comfortably in the driver's seat of the car they’d rolled onto set.

While you were dancing, they’d done some outdoor scenes with him, and you’d heard him rambling about the drifting he’d done, grinning about the car. He did look like he belonged behind the wheel -in all fairness.

“Because Clara told me about your stupid ideas.” you mutter, ignoring the confusion on his face as you clamber over the gap between the passenger seat.

“Um, okay. This is new. What ideas?” he asks, shifting uncomfortably as you climb onto him, trying to hide your awkwardness.

“That I was into you.” you huff, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“I didn't say that, but you are literally all over me.” he responds, sitting up straighter. He gently lifts your legs, giving him space to move to get comfortable, and you pretend to ignore how his hands burn your bare skin.

“Oh, come on.” you say, turning to face him. But the genuine innocence on his face is so believable you actually realise what happened.

Clara was SO lucky they had started recording. You’d never hated her so much as you did right now.

His comment earlier about you being a professional was absolutely correct though, and you were proving it. You sang along quietly, so quietly that Lando was probably the only person who could hear you, but it kept you on beat.

And every word you moved, leaned, gestured. To anyone watching, it would seem like you belong there, your limbs intertwined with his. That he isn’t making you uncomfortable, no, merely the opposite. That you dont want anything more than to get away from him, the skin to skin contact actually driving you insane. And with each thought, with each shiver, you press further into him, feeling the music. It was your song, after all. Clara was right, you had written this in. And as much as you despise her, that snake, you are absolutely loving the bizarre look you are getting from Lando. He has a cap on, that matched your top, and that was very lucky for him. Because he was, like you’d said, NOT a professional. His obvious confusion, and the way he kept looking away from you, was hilarious. So you pull down his cap, so it almost completely covers his face, meaning his curls poke out the back.

“Stop blushing, Norris. And stop looking like you want to run away. I’m trying my very best to act like I don't want to throw up right now, please do the same.” you whisper, your lips grazing his ear.

He doesn’t respond, but he reacts instead. He throws the cap off his head, as if to prove to you he isn’t flushed, but you’re not very convinced.

“Brilliant. We got exactly what we needed. I can’t think of a better scene for the outro, really. You should pay Clara for her originality, alongside her services. IF I’m not careful, she’ll be taking my job soon.” jokes Bardia, and if looks could kill, the one you shoot Clara would’ve had her dead instantly.

You practically leap off Lando, like he was burning you, and you charge straight for her.

“You need to fuck off, Clara.” you say, seething.

You very very rarely argue, and you’ve never been so mad at her, so this was new. This hostility. Between her and Lando, you couldn’t tell who was worse.

She looks taken aback. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just, I thought it was funny. I was going to tell him to change his plan, but he had a vision by then, and you’d already got on set-” she starts, but you just shake your head at her.

“Cut the bullshit apology. You’ve been such a pain about this whole thing. I let it go, that you even did this, and I shouldn’t have. But I did, because I love you. And every fucking day that I spent angry, and irritable, and stressed, I tried to not blame you. I think that's why I hated him so much. Because I just didn't want to be mad at you, because I NEED YOU. You’ve always been there. One of the few people I trust with my life. And you stabbed me in the fucking back. And here I am, anxious and angry and way out of my depth, and then you pulled out the knife, just to stab me again. But yeah, hope that was real fucking funny.” you shout, ignoring her cringing eyes and the sudden silence of the room.

“Leave Pinkie-Pie alone, yeah? Come on, let's get some water or something.” comes a voice, and a hand on your shoulder. And why he thought you’d want to talk to him, of all fucking people, is absurd.

“Her name is Clara. You two aren’t friends, unless you’re part of some fucking club to piss me off, maybe? I do not need you wading in here, okay? Leave me the fuck alone. We’re done, contracts over. Video launches in a week, and that's it. Never have to speak to each other again, Norris. Let's start now. Get out of here, please.” you snarl, not looking him in the eyes.

You pause.

“Actually, no. I’ll leave. You two can have a chat or something, maybe about how else you can go behind my back, and how you can then make me want to shoot myself!” you shout, shrugging, looking from Clara to Lando. And you turn and storm out, practically running home.

***

Its ‘sportscar’ release day. You've seen the video. It was actually great. And setting the emotions aside, the ending made sense. But you can't really watch it, past the first minute, without wanting to scream. So you don’t.

The fans however? They go mental. Like, inconsolable. Losing their minds.

Comments flood in, endless. All the same, your name and Landos. A few, about the song being great. A few, crediting the designers of Lando’s new merch, but it's a few. And it's exactly what you knew was going to happen, that you were so upset by.

Everyone, violent and relentless.

‘‘The way they look at each other!”

“this is an insane hard launch omfgg??”

“wait , r they actually together?”

“I KNEW IT.”

“Lando, one chance please.”

“They look so good together��

“i just died omfg”

Millions. Literally millions of comments all like that. And you hate it, that you were so not in control of this. That now, everyone thought you were dating a man you didn't even like. Someone who had made last week one of the hardest of your life. Every comment, a reminder of Clara, laughing. But you didn’t want to let everyone view you like this. So you had to do something.

Photos, videos. Of you and Lando, at each other's throats. Your arguments. Someone had even managed to get a video of you from that night when you first met. So you made a somewhat innocent photo dump, throwing in the occasional fight. In a way that genuinely presented you both as insufferable.

Your caption was harsh, but honest. “Crazy couple of weeks. Nice to meet Norris finally, but didn’t expect him to be so annoying!!. Anyway, hope you all like ‘sportscar!’ thanks everyone xx” landonorris

He commented almost immediately.

“yeh, crazy is a good word. thanks for the new experience. sorry for being such a pain in the ass.”

It was sad. Not even that flippant. And you almost, almost, felt bad. Your anger, maybe misplaced. But, he was still undeniably annoying. Regardless if he deserved your wrath or not, that was still true. It always was going to be.

But someone who definitely DID deserve your anger was Clara. You hadn’t spoken since, which was shockingly unusual for you two. But you were hurting, and she still hadn’t really apologised.

CLARA:

hi! i know you probably dont want to talk, but can u open the door? can we talk anyway?

You huff, and get up. Classic. She hated knocking, never did. She just came in. She literally had a key.

You open the door, to see her sad face. Red, probably from exhaustion. She didn't cry often.

“Come in.”

And she does, sitting on your sofa.

“Look, I’m so so sorry. Like really. I just, I didn’t think about how you were feeling. I just thought about the numbers. And, you know, you. I thought that maybe you only hated him so much because you liked him, and you were scared. It wouldn’t be the first time. And, look, I know this is awful of me, but you know I’ve always loved meddling. And I didn’t say it back, but I love you too. Always. You’re literally my sister, and I don't know what I’d do without you. I mean, this week nearly killed me. I know forgiving me won't be easy, but I didn't have malicious intentions. Yeah, maybe I thought it would be humorous. I didn't think you really hated him that much, that you'd say yes just to prove him wrong.That's unlike you, really. I was surprised.” she explains, her voice cracking.

“I just, the fans, you know. They wanted it so badly. It seemed almost unreal. I don’t know, I just thought you were making a big deal out of nothing. And although I could totally see how and why he pissed you off, he was more tolerable than I was expecting. “ she finishes shakily, and you really stare at her.

Her bloodshot eyes. Her messy pink hair, plaited lazily. Still dressed in her favourite pyjamas, like she came here in a frenzy. Like this was eating her up. And you just couldn’t. You just couldn’t let this ruin you.

So you hug her tightly, feeling her melt into your shoulder.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’ll be okay.” you murmur reassuringly. And you realise that you will be, definitely.

“You didn't give me 30 seconds, by the way. Again. Before you posted that clear hatepost.” she mutters, her voice muffled.

You laugh. “Yep, sorry. The shipping was annoying. Thought that might make them back off.”

She sighs. “You don’t know your fans at all, do you? They think you rejected him, or something. Or you’re keeping it a secret. Or it was a joke, to cause drama. But most of them just think you’re madly in love, so. This isn’t going away. I’m sorry.”

***

Miami weekend. Upcoming anniversary of your favourite race, was how Lando was thinking of it. And you were coming. You’d been spotted around, a week early. Lando was also here early, because he loved Miami too.

You didn’t know that, though. So you weren’t expecting to bump into him in the city, surrounded by people in the busy street right by the track.

“Oh. Lando. Hi.” you say briskly, trying to walk on, but he stops you.

“Coming for the race? I’m going to win again, you know. Unless that would annoy you.” he replies, smiling weakly, but you know he doesn't mean it. That comment clearly hurt.

“Yeah, I am. Have your new hoodie in my bag, if you don’t mind me wearing it.”

He shrugs. “Of course not. Assuming Pinkie-Pie isn’t with you, I can get you into the garage, if you want.”

You pause. “No, don’t worry. And, you know I only posted that to try and shut up some of the fans. I didn't mean it.”

“Yeah, you did. It's okay. And I’m assuming you don't want to be seen with me then? All these fans, taking photos. Sorry. I’ll let you go now.” he nods, and he drops your hand. You hadn’t even realised he was holding it.

Shit, that wasn’t going to help, was it? Suddenly, you're hyperaware of everyone. Cameras, fans laughing and pointing, waiting for Lando to sign caps, or for a photo with you.

“You know, I’m sorry we can’t be friends. You know, maybe if we’d met differently. If we weren't stuck doing those stupid shoots. If we’d met, like here. Naturally. If the fans hadn’t built us into something. I don't know.” you mumble, thinking, and turning away.

“Well, I realised I didn’t want to be friends, like after we first met too.”

That takes you by surprise.

“Huh, was it the head shake? Or the middle finger? Or calling us an inevitable nightmare?” you ask, teasing. You walk back towards him, interested in what he was going to reply.

He shakes his head. “No, I meant I didn't want to be friends.” he responds, lowering his voice.

Oh.

And before you have time to figure out what to say back, or if you can run away, he looks directly at you.

“You know what? Fuck it.” he mutters, and then he’s right there. His face, right against yours. But he doesn’t move, just stares at you expectantly.

“Tell me not to. Push me away. Hiss in my face, tell me how fucking annoying I am. How much you hate me. Say it, right now, and I’ll fuck off. Genuinely, you’ll never see me again, like you wanted.” he whispers, daring you.

And you look at him, dead in the eyes. Admiring his curly hair, and the slight nervousness etched on his smile. And your heart is beating so loudly, it drowns out all the things you could say to him. So you say nothing.

And that's what he wanted. His lips crash onto yours, and your hands snake around his neck and into the bottom of his hair, while he wraps himself around you. You can feel him grinning against your mouth, and you pull away to laugh at him, and he laughs with you.

And he seems a lot less annoying when you go back to kiss him again.

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #fanfic #lando norris #lando x reader #lando x you #formula 1 #tate mcrae #fanfiction #music #fame au #enemies to lovers #angst #fluff #cute #best friends #pink #mclaren

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nmn-yty · 6 months ago

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— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ all yours ｡o♡⋆˚｡⋆.

pairing: park seonghwa x reader

summary: successfully enticing hwa with one more round? less likely than you think.

word count: 0.6k

a/n: sooo we all went crazy after his recent post, right? this is just a quick silly fic for your imaginations because im sooo smitten for hwa lately... this is my first ateez fic! i hope you like it, atiny^^ also i haven't posted in months! sorry about that,, happy new year! might post a quick draft of something to see if anyone is interested, keep an eye out for that! anyways, enjoy!^^

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

"hnggg.." your head followed the noise of a sleepy, drowsy seonghwa just inches away from you on your bed. he has his arms laid out in front of him and was lying on his stomach. the way his body stretched out on the sheets was too perfect. his hands caressing the duvet roughly, grabbing onto the fabric for stability in more stretches. his fingers turning rosy from how hard he was holding on.

his white knitted sweater lifted slightly to reveal his waist, something you could stare at forever. you swore that you caught yourself drooling a little over how good he looked in that moment. your silence was loud to him, causing him to turn his head ever so slightly in your direction.

"what're staring at?" his voice was husky and faint, almost as if he wasn't fully conscious yet. his hair was messy from rolling around in bed. his eyes only half opened, deep and staring intently into you.

"you look so soft, so peaceful and pretty just laying there. it's so unfair how good you always look."

"hmm you're softer!" his words still slow and playful. you turned away for a second, the sun rays peaking through the curtains stung your eyes. this was the perfect time to attack.

"h-hey!" you managed to yelp out as he suddenly clung onto your arm. lying on his back now, his body was radiating warmth and his scent was sweet. even after hours of sleeping and moving around, he still managed to attract you in every single way. it's as if you were completely bound to him, ready to take on any command.

"get.. on," he lazily whispered. you began to feel his cool fingers brushing against your waist. you couldn't help but burn up to his touch. not knowing what he was thinking, what he wanted with you next, kept your adrenaline flowing.

"what?" you pushed your arms out of his grasp to look at him from a distance. he opened his eyes properly now, something snapped in him to make his consciousness clear. his gaze flickered between you and his lap.

"come on top of me.. crush me with your comfort," he said as he reached his arms straight out. you couldn't help but chuckle at his strange request. was he really awake yet?

you couldn't help but oblige as soon as your laughter died down. you were straddling seonghwa, being careful to make it as innocent as possible. bellies touching, you wrapped your arms around his neck. resting your cheek against his, you closed your eyes and your body started to melt into him.

the familiar cool fingers of his found themselves around your waist again. slight shivers began to spread all over your body, his touch was enough to drive you crazy.

he noticed this immediately, "shh," he chuckled softly between the coos.

you couldn't take it anymore. both your bodies being pressed up against each other, you could hear the gentle beat of his heart. you could memorize the pace in which he was breathing, slightly hitching at times from the tension. you lifted your head away from his, only to rush into locking yourself on his lips.

sloppy sounds erupted from seonghwa's mouth, slipping out moans of pleasure and need. his hands held your waist tighter, moving them up your torso.

you felt a growing sensation of want in the pit of your stomach. you couldn't possibly go for another round, could you? pulling away from him, you returned to your resting position with your faces touching.

seonghwa hid his face with the back of his hand. the same rosy blush that was shown earlier on his hands was not spread all over his face and neck. you couldn't see it properly but you knew he was always the cutest while being flustered.

"damn... why do you love to tease me?"

all you could do was chuckle lightly, proud that you had him wrapped around your finger.

#pics are not mine!#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa fanfic #gulp #um #pls like this ik it's kinda bad #park seonghwa smut #ateez smut

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furioussheepluminary · 2 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬

Pairing: merman!hyunjin x marinespecialist!afab!reader, fantasy au

Synopsis: meeting a merman at work wasn't on the schedule. neither was having feelings.

Warnings: gore a teeny bit, fantasy fluff, strange sounds and feelings, language barrier, confused feelings, innocent curiosity

A/n: inspired by @ssickmagnolia8's losing my breath for you. If you have extra eyes for errors no you don't . I tried so hard to get out of my writers block 😭 I barely have inspo but my drafts are crazy full 😭

You weren’t raised on fairy tales. You were raised on currents. Your father was a sailor, your mother a coastal ecologist, and the ocean was their god. Family vacations were tidepool cataloging. Bedtime stories were legends about deep-sea creatures that mimicked men but weren’t. But you didn’t believe in monsters—not really. You believed in data. Pressure changes. Temperature shifts. Migration patterns. At seventeen, you watched your mother drown. Not in a storm. Not in a dramatic, cinematic scene. No. Your mother simply walked into the tide, arms wide, eyes blank, whispering something only the water could hear. Her body was never found.

You never went near the shore for five years.

But obsession is the child of grief.

You became a specialist in acoustic telemetry, tracking marine life through sound and signal. You hunted the sea with sonar instead of boats. Your reports were clinical. Clean. Controlled

Still, you pushed forward. You had a name to clear, a memory to honor, and a gut feeling you couldn’t shake. Something was wrong with the ocean.

The SS Kismet was a research vessel outfitted for deep-sea tracking, manned by six specialists and one quietly fraying you. The day was standard. The sun overhead bleached the deck white, waves slapped rhythmically against the hull, and the equipment hummed with numbers and graphs. you stood near the stern, notebook in hand, listening to the low-frequency pings returning from their latest scan.

“Same patterns as last week,” murmured Aaron, the lead sonar tech. “Migration normal. No anomalies.”

You didn’t respond. Her eyes flicked to the live display:

Depth: 145 meters. Movement: Moderate. Bio-signature: 3.4

Everything made sense. That was the problem.

The sea was too quiet. After five hours, the crew packed up. Equipment retracted, samples secured, reports logged. The boat turned back toward shore under a rose-gold sky, and conversation rose around you—light, casual. But you stayed at the edge of the boat, watching the way the water seemed to stretch too long. Like it was holding its breath. They docked by sunset. Seagulls screamed over the marina. Lights from the harbor winked like tired eyes. The others disembarked, laughing, boots hitting wet wood. You trailed behind them… until she saw it.

Far off. Barely visible in the waning light. Something was moving. Not in the water, from the shore. It was tall. Human-shaped, but too fluid. Staggering like its bones didn’t fit right. Its skin—if it had skin—glinted wet like oil on pavement. It moved into the surf, slow and steady. Not fighting the pull. Letting the sea take it back.

You squinted. No one else noticed. You opened your mouth to speak, but your throat clenched. Because the thing paused.

And turned.

And though it had no eyes you could see, you felt it look at you. Right at you.

Your voice cracked in the thick evening air as you called out, “Guys? Hey—HEY!”

But your words dissolved into the wind, carried off with the laughter of the team now too far along the dock. Their boots were on asphalt. Yours were still on splintered planks. Alone.

You cursed under your breath. The figure had disappeared into the surf, but her gut twisted with the knowledge, it was still there. Half-lost in the tide, half-drenched in something darker. Not seaweed. Not shadow. Blood.

Your hand slipped into your gear pouch, fingers wrapping tightly around the hilt of a folding blade. Not large. Not elegant. Just sharp enough to buy you three seconds if things went wrong. And something told you they were about to. The dock faded behind you as you stepped off onto the wet sand, shoes sinking slightly. The air was cooler down here, closer to the sea’s breath. You moved carefully, knees bent, eyes squinting into the low mist as the tide rolled in slow and deliberate like it was trying to lull you.

Then you saw it. He was collapsed at the edge where sea met sand, half-submerged, slumped like a dying god. Not a man. Not entirely.

His body was long, too long. From the waist up, he looked almost human—shoulders broad, chest marked with faint violet ridges that pulsed softly, like gills. His skin was damp, luminous, stretched over lean muscle and speckled with gashes, torn open by jagged coral or perhaps claws of his own kind. But from the waist down…a tail. Not cartoonish or shiny. This was monstrous beauty. Deep, obsidian-blue scales etched with silver patterns like ancient runes. Fins like torn silk fluttered weakly at the edge, trembling with effort. Blood—dark, almost black—pooled beneath him in the sand and hissed quietly when it touched saltwater.

His hair was soaked and tangled, clinging to his sharp cheekbones, framing a face too sculpted to be human. Ethereal. High-boned. Lips split at the corner. Eyes—

Oh God, his eyes. They snapped open at your approach.

Sharp. Slit pupils. The color of storm-lit seawater green and grey and gold all at once.

And then he hissed. Low. Defensive. His lips peeled back just enough to show teeth—sharp, serrated like a predator’s.

You froze, raising your free hand. “Hey—hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

But he didn’t understand. Or didn’t care. His arms pushed against the wet sand, trying to lift himself. A growl reverberated deep in his chest as he whipped his tail, sending a spray of water across your face. The movement tore open a gash along his hip, he let out a strained cry, somewhere between rage and agony, before collapsing back with a choked gasp.

You stepped forward instinctively, breath shallow.

He was shaking. Drenched. Wild. And yet… vulnerable. This was no sea monster.

This was someone. And he was dying. Your heart hammered as you stepped closer, sand slipping under your boots. Your hands were up—one still holding the small knife, the other palm-out, slow, nonthreatening.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” you whispered, voice thick with breath. “You’re hurt. I—I can help.”

But he didn’t understand your words. He only saw movement. A human form. Something closer. With a feral grunt, the merman twisted, shoulder muscles flaring, tail slapping the sand in a weak arc. He tried to crawl back toward the surf instinct pulling him to the safety of the ocean, of away. But pain lanced through him again. His shoulder gave out. One of the wounds split wider, the dark ichor spilling fresh and hot.

He cried out, low and guttural, collapsing again with a strangled wince.

You flinched but didn’t move away. Her pulse skipped, but your feet stayed rooted.

You dropped to your knees a few feet from him and carefully pulled your field pack open. Out came a fabric square, military-grade wound wrap, waterproof and heat-reactive. Not exactly meant for mythological sea creatures, but she had to try.

You slid forward. Close enough now to hear the rough sound of his breath—shaky and uneven. “I’m going to touch you now,” she murmured, voice trembling. “Please don’t—don’t freak out.”

He snarled again, a rumble in his throat, but it wasn’t as sharp. More confused than aggressive now. He tracked every movement of your hand with those uncanny eyes. You leaned in, breath soft, and gently pressed the wrap to the gash along his ribs. His skin twitched beneath her touch warm, slick, and… not completely alien. The scales shimmered faintly beneath your fingertips, flexing and fluttering as if responding to her. He hissed again, low and tight. Not from anger this time from pain. But he didn’t strike. Didn’t move away.

The bandage clung instantly, sealed by body heat. You pulled another out and looked at him.

“I can help with the rest,” she said softly, holding the next strip up. “If you let me. If you can… I don’t know, trust me?”

He blinked. Slow. The growling had stopped. His eyes scanned your face, lingered on your lips, your eyes like he was trying to read something in you, some language you weren’t speaking. He shifted, inching forward on trembling arms. His head dipped slightly. One of his fins curled inward. And then—quietly, hesitantly—he leaned toward you.

You sucked in a breath as he drew closer, breath brushing your cheek, cool and wet like fog. His tail slid across the sand with a soft drag. He was allowing it now. Allowing you. His body gave the answer his voice couldn’t. You moved gently, methodically, patching another wound on his side, then his forearm. The gashes were bad—too deep for you to handle on a beach. He needed more. He needed help. But he was still looking at you.

And not like you were a threat anymore. You sat back on your heels, hands trembling just slightly from the cold, the adrenaline, the impossibility of what you was seeing. You’d patched him up best you could with what you had, but they couldn’t stay here. Someone would find them. Your team would come looking. And he… he couldn’t defend himself like this.

You looked down at him, where he was half-curled in the sand. Still bleeding. Breathing hard. “Can you walk?” she muttered aloud, half to herself, her voice barely above the hush of the waves behind them.

You realized how stupid it sounded the second it left your mouth—he had a tail, not legs.

But still, she made the motion with her fingers, as if puppeteering invisible legs. A silly little walking gesture, the way you’d signal to a child. To your absolute disbelief, his eyes followed the motion. His brows furrowed in that elegant, ocean-slick face. He looked at his own tail. Looked at your. Then—

He began to shift.

Slow at first. Painfully. The sound that came from his throat was low and rough, like gravel pulled by the tide. But his body began to change. The fin that had glimmered like black opal under moonlight began to split, crackling, warping, folding in on itself like liquid glass folding into clay. The deep iridescent scales retreated, melting away like dew drying off skin. His tail was gone. In its place: long, pale legs, scarred and sleek. Powerful thighs. Knees bent awkwardly as if unfamiliar. The bruises from earlier still colored his skin. Salt and blood clung to him in places no human anatomy textbook could prepare you for.

Your lips parted, jaw slack. “What the actual—”

He looked up at you, panting. Exhausted. On his hands and knees now, shivering in the wind and the wetness, completely bare and utterly other. But also… human. Or something achingly close. You stumbled to your feet, ditching the knife completely now, and bent to hook an arm under his. “Okay, alright. Come on. I’ve got you.”

He flinched as their skin touched, his reflexes still caught between fight or flight. But this time, he didn’t pull away. He let you help him.

You pulled his arm over your shoulder, feeling the sharp weight of him, every muscle trembling under the strain of transformation. His wet skin pressed against your clothes, soaking through instantly. He leaned heavily on you, and she tightened your grip, breath hitching as he groaned again. They stumbled together across the beach, two shadows limping toward the faint lights of the Marine Center in the distance. You kept your head low, whispering reassurances under your breath, some for him, most for yourself.

“Just a little further, okay? We’re almost there. You’re doing good… god, you’re doing so good.”

You used the back entrance of the Center—you’d done it a hundred times for late data drops, but never with a naked injured merman draped over you like seaweed.

Somehow—by divine panic and dumb luck—they made it across the dark, tiled hallway, up a flight of stairs, and into your tiny staff dorm tucked behind the labs. You kicked the door shut behind them and locked it in one motion.

Inside: warm, quiet, safe.

You turned to him. He was half-collapsed against your twin bed, blinking slowly, skin clammy, lips slightly parted in pain and confusion. So much humanity in his expression. So much… fear. You swallowed hard and dropped beside him.

“I don’t know what the hell you are,” you whispered, brushing hair—still wet, still tangled with seaweed and blood—out of his eyes. “But I’ve got you now.”

You moved quickly now, your brain scrambling to shift from shock to survival mode. You rummaged through the spare shelf under your bed and yanked out a clean, fluffy gray blanket—one you usually used for late night writing sessions or curling up with ocean current charts. Not for covering up the naked sea man bleeding out in your room. You turned back to him, and he was watching you. Dazed. Alert, somehow, but like he was in a completely foreign world his body shivering, his mouth slightly parted, hair clinging to his cheek in stringy wet ribbons.

“Okay,” you breathed, kneeling down. “I’m not gonna look. Promise. Just—just let me…”

You draped the blanket over his hips carefully, gently, shielding his body from view. He flinched at the sudden warmth, but didn’t stop you. His eyes stayed locked to yours.

God. He was beautiful in the kind of way nightmares made you want to stay asleep. His features sharp, yet soft where it mattered, scars across his chest, jaw taut, lashes too dark for someone that alien. That injured. You turned away for a second and grabbed your first aid kit from your bottom drawer. The click of the latch opening echoed like a scream in the quiet room. You pulled out antiseptic, gauze, butterfly stitches, and waterproof medical tape.

“Okay, okay…” you whispered, settling beside him again. your hands hovered over his ribs, hesitant. “You’re not gonna hiss at me again, right?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. You smiled nervously. “Yeah, I didn’t think you understood that.”

Still, you took the silence as permission and began cleaning one of the slashes along his side. He tensed immediately, but didn’t strike or pull back. Just let out a low, shaky sound somewhere between a growl and a breath. His muscles tightened under your fingers.

“Sorry. I know. This probably stings.” He made a small noise in reply. It wasn’t a word, but it wasn’t nothing either. It sounded like… acknowledgment. Like he was trying to echo your tone, mirror her comfort.

“That’s right, okay…” she murmured. “You’ve got a bit of sea glass in here. Jesus, what happened to you?”

No answer. But the way his fingers curled into the edge of the blanket made you think—something bad. Something he couldn’t explain. Or didn’t want to.

“You’re not from here, are you?” you whispered. “God, what am I even asking… Of course you’re not.”

Again, he didn’t respond. But he watched you. With that eerie intensity. You moved to his arm next, patching a shallow puncture wound near his bicep. His skin was oddly soft under your hands. Like velvet soaked in sea salt. And warm. Too warm. “I don’t even know if this stuff works on you,” you muttered as you applied ointment and sealed the wound with gauze. “I mean, for all I know, you could be allergic to—”

Knock knock knock.

You froze.

Three crisp knocks. Familiar. Then a voice.

“Y/N? You in there?” Her heart dropped into her stomach.

It was Maya—from the marine lab downstairs. Always checking in. Always conveniently around when you didn’t want to be disturbed. You turned sharply to the merman and whispered, “Stay quiet. Please, just—don’t move.”

He blinked slowly. Stayed perfectly still.

“Yeah!” you called, scrambling to her feet, trying to sound normal. You stepped toward the door, heart slamming in your chest. “I’m just—uh—getting ready to crash. What’s up?” Maya’s voice was muffled through the wood. “You alright? I didn’t see you with the others after landing. We were gonna go over sonar readings in the morning but—if something’s up—”

“No! No, I’m good,” you replied, too fast. Too bright. “Just tired. You know how the sea gets to me.”

A beat. Then, “Alright. You sure?” You looked over your shoulder. The merman’s eyes were on you. Unmoving. But… calm.

“I’m sure,” you said, softer this time. Another pause. Then footsteps retreating.

You exhaled all at once, sagging against the door. You turned back to him, letting your back slide down the wood until you were sitting again. His head tilted slightly at you, like he understood everything and nothing all at once.

“Okay,” you whispered. “You just became my biggest secret.”

The antiseptic sting was nearly done now—just a few more cleaned cuts and sealed bruises. You moved with careful hands, your breath soft and slow as you finished wrapping a particularly deep laceration just under his collarbone. The moment felt still. Thick. Like the air around them had pressed pause to let something ancient slip in between.

You gently pressed the last bit of gauze in place, smoothing it down with your palm.

“You’re not bleeding anymore,” you murmured. “That’s a start.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. He was staring. No—focused. Brow furrowed, mouth slightly parted. Not in confusion… in concentration.

“Are you—are you okay?” you asked, softly. “Does anything still hurt?” His lips moved. Just a little. Then again. She paused.

“Wait… did you—did you say something?”

He did it again. This time, slower. And then—barely audible—a whisper, rough like gravel washed up on shore:

“…Hyun…jin…”

You blinked. Your heart skipped.

“You—your name?” you whispered, eyes wide. “Is that your name?”

He gave a weak nod, eyes fluttering as if even that had drained him. “Hyunjin…” she repeated softly, like it was a sacred word. “That’s beautiful. Well, mine’s Y/N.”

His mouth twitched—something like a smirk, but more like relief. Then he tried again, speaking low, gravelly, the syllables pulling against his throat like he wasn’t used to forming them.

“I… learn…”

You leaned in instinctively, every hair on her arm standing on end. Your lips parted, disbelief creasing her brows.

“…your… speak. Lips. Words.”

You sat up a little straighter, realization blooming in your chest like heat. “You’re reading my lips,” you breathed. “You’re trying to talk like me…”

He nodded again. Slow. Exhausted. But committed.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, scrambling to the side table for your small, water-stained notebook and a pencil. You scribbled something down quickly, mouthing the word as you wrote it. “That’s… that’s incredible. You’ve been watching how I talk and trying to mimic it—do you know how hard that is?”

Hyunjin blinked. His shoulders rose and fell, barely able to shrug—but his gaze never left yours. You set the book down and looked back at him, your voice gentler now.

“Can you tell me what happened to you?”

He blinked. Then glanced toward the floor like he was searching for a word buried in the shadows.

“…dark…” he rasped.

You leaned in, eyes flicking across his lips, helping him find the rest. “Dark?” she echoed. “You were… somewhere dark?”

He nodded. Struggled.

“Chains,” he whispered next, the word thick and ugly in his mouth. “Hurt. Hunt. Run…” Your stomach dropped. The pencil in her hand went still.

“They hunted you?”

His eyes darkened. He nodded once. The memory laced with something almost feral, something wild and buried.You placed a hand on your notebook, the other gently touching his arm.

“I won’t let them find you again,” she said. Firm. Soft, but sure. “You’re safe here, okay? I promise.”

He stared at her. And this time, something deep in his chest shifted. His head tilted forward slightly.

---

The rain had started again—soft, misty, tapping against the dorm window like fingers too shy to knock. You set your kit aside, tucking bandage scraps back into their place, then wiped your hands on the towel draped across her lap. Hyunjin sat propped against the bedframe, now cloaked in the oversized blanket you’d given him earlier, the dark fabric falling over his lap and down his hips, obscuring the freshly formed legs that still trembled when he moved them too quickly.

“You must be starving,” you said, more to yourself than to him as you stood and stretched your arms above your head.

“No.”

You paused. Turned slowly to him, brows slightly raised. He had spoken clearly. Not perfectly. The edges of the word still had a rawness to them, a beginner’s sharpness. But it was unmistakable.

“No?” you repeated, a smile tugging at your lips.

He shook his head, still watching you.

“Okay…” you murmured, moving toward your desk. “I’ll eat something myself, then. You sure you don’t want something? Just a snack? Fish—oh. That might be offensive.”

He didn’t laugh. But you caught the subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth. You opened a granola bar instead, taking a quiet bite while flipping through your research journal. But even as you tried to distract yourself with the scribbled notes and observations from that morning’s dive, you felt him watching.

Your gaze slowly lifted. Hyunjin hadn’t moved. Not even a blink. He was staring. Unapologetically. Eyes fixed on you like you were the only real thing in the room. The only solid thread holding him above water. You cleared your throat and looked back down at the pages, pretending not to notice the burn of his gaze.

You turned a page. He was still staring. You tried adjusting the chair. Shifted your posture. Took another bite. Still. Eyes on you.

“I can feel you watching me, you know,” you muttered, not unkindly. You glanced up again. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Hyunjin tilted his head slightly. Like he didn’t understand the question. Like that wasn’t unusual.

You leaned forward on your elbows, eyes narrowing slightly, but your smile stayed.

“I’m not that interesting,” you teased. He nodded.

You blinked. “Wait. You’re saying I am that interesting?” Another slow nod.

And still—his gaze didn’t falter. You bit the inside of her cheek, cheeks heating. “You really are learning fast.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened a little. As if your amusement pleased him. As if your presence, chaotic and human as it was, brought something to his chest that hurt a little less. You sighed, shutting your notebook and setting it aside. You stood and walked slowly over to him.

He straightened—just slightly. Still weak. Still wrapped in layers of pain. But attentive. You sat at the edge of the bed, cross-legged, and faced him.

“You don’t have to keep staring like I’m going to disappear,” you said quietly. “I’m not.”

He didn’t answer. But the way his eyes dropped—for a moment—to her hands resting in your lap… then slowly lifted back to meet yours…

It said everything.

The room had settled into a gentle quiet. The rain outside had softened to a drizzle, a constant hush against the glass. The kind of lull that made time feel slower, suspended in a fragile bubble of calm. You stood, brushing invisible lint off her shirt before turning to face Hyunjin. “I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you said, half-expecting no reply. “Don’t touch anything. I mean it. Don’t go poking around or—” you paused, narrowing her eyes, “—biting my electronics.”

Hyunjin blinked up at you from where he sat on the bed, cocooned in the blanket like it was part of him now. His lips moved, just a little—mimicking the shape of your words. But he didn’t speak. You smiled, gave him a little nod, then grabbed your towel, clean clothes, and a small caddy of products before disappearing into the bathroom. The door shut with a click. The soft shuffle of clothing followed, then the metallic hiss of the shower turning on.

At first, Hyunjin did nothing. Just sat there.

But… the sound of the water. The echo of your voice still lingering. The delicate scent of her body wash in the air. It was unfamiliar… intoxicating. And more than anything, his curiosity was gnawing at him. Was she… cleansing her scales?

Like he did in the moonpools beneath the reef?

He shifted his legs off the bed—still new, still foreign. They trembled under his weight, but he managed to stand. A soft grunt left him as he staggered toward the bathroom, one hand trailing along the wall for balance. The floor was cold against his soles. Each step felt uncertain.

He reached the door. Didn’t knock.

Didn’t even think to. The door wasn’t fully shut. Just barely ajar. Enough for him to press a hand against the wood and nudge it open silently. Steam rushed out instantly, curling like seafoam around his feet. The air was thick with warmth and lavender. His dark eyes flicked upward.

And there you were. Silhouetted through the fogged glass of the shower.

Water traced down the length of her body—rivulets running along her shoulders, down her back, catching the curves of her waist. Her hair clung to her skin, dripping. Her skin glowed under the bathroom light, radiant, almost otherworldly.

Hyunjin's breath caught. His heart thudded.

She… she didn’t have scales.

Not visibly.

But your skin—it shimmered slightly in the heat, smooth like moon-polished shells. Unmarked. Unnatural in the way it tugged at something deep in him. Your limbs, the way you moved, the grace—

He wondered, foolishly, if you were like him. A creature hiding among humans. Then you turned. You reached for a small bottle, arm extending, her gaze shifting—right into his. They locked eyes.

Everything froze. Your expression contorted in a split second from relaxed to horrified.

“JESUS—HYUNJIN!”

You fumbled for the shower door, practically slipping in place. “GET OUT!” you shouted, voice bouncing off the tile walls, echoing in his ears. Hyunjin’s eyes widened like he’d just been caught stealing a royal treasure. His cheeks flushed a violent red—deep, warm, crawling all the way to his ears.

“Sorry—sorry—!” he blurted in a mangled rush of syllables, then staggered back, nearly tripping on his own feet as he yanked the door shut behind him.

Thud. A beat of silence. Then the sound of water slapping tile resumed.

Hyunjin stumbled backward into the room, hands clutched over his face. He fell onto the bed like a sack of kelp, groaning softly, curling into himself beneath the blanket.

His heart wouldn’t slow down. You looked like a sea spirit. A siren. A goddess. He buried his face into the pillow and whispered to himself in broken syllables, “She’s not… mermaid? But… so… shining…”

He wasn’t sure what he’d just done. But he was absolutely sure he would never be able to look you in the eyes again without drowning in heat.

The door creaked open slowly, steam billowing out like a slow exhale from a sleeping giant.

You stepped out, wrapped in a thick towel, your damp hair clinging to your shoulders, droplets tracing the slope of your collarbone. You clutched your clothes to your chest with one hand and rubbed the towel dry against your temple with the other. Your skin was flushed from the heat of the water—and maybe a little from what just happened.

Hyunjin was sitting on the bed, perfectly still, legs crossed beneath the blanket like a chastised child. His gaze was fixed firmly on the floor, ears beet-red, and his fingers fidgeted with the fabric on his lap.

You raised a brow, then—softened. You tried to keep your expression firm, tried to muster the energy to be mad, but the sheer look of guilt on his face, the nervous way he sat there like a drenched cat in trouble, made your laugh.

“Well,” you said as you padded closer, “if you were trying to sneak up on a woman—you failed miserably.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened. He scrambled to shake his head, hands waving in front of him in frantic denial. “No! No sneak—I was… just… see? Curiosity!” His voice was breathy, each syllable clumsy but earnest, like he was still tasting every word for the first time. You tilted your head and crossed her arms. “Right. Curiosity. Sure.” You couldn’t help the smirk curling at your lips. “That what you say to all the girls you spy on in the shower?”

“I didn’t know you were…” Hyunjin gestured wildly at your towel, his cheeks darkening again. “No fins. No… shell armor. Just skin. I think—maybe you were like me.”

You blinked. “You thought I was a mermaid?”

He nodded shyly.

You let out a laugh then light, amused, the tension in your shoulders slipping away. “God. You’re a disaster,” you muttered fondly. “But I get it. You’re new to… all this. Just—next time maybe knock? Or don’t open the door to the sound of running water?”

“Okay,” Hyunjin whispered. Then, with a bit more strength, “Okay. No door. Knock. First.”

“Good,” she smiled, grabbing a long shirt from her dresser and slipping into it over the towel with your back turned. “Now get some rest. You’ve been through a lot, and your wounds are still fresh. You need sleep.”

You turned around again, drying your hair with the towel. That’s when he said it. Softly. Like it had been resting on the edge of his tongue the whole time, unsure whether it should be spoken.

“Beautiful.”

You paused mid-pat. Your arms dropped slightly.

You looked at him.

His head was tilted, his long hair falling across his cheek, still slightly damp. His lips were parted just enough to prove he’d said it on purpose. And those dark, wide eyes still locked on her like you were the most fascinating creature in the entire world.

“I’m… sorry?” you said, a little thrown off her rhythm.

He straightened up a bit, the blanket slipping down his chest. “You are,” he said again, slower this time. “Beautiful.”

There was no stutter. No nervousness. Just sincerity. Your heart did a little stumble in your chest. You blinked again, unsure if you should laugh, thank him, or hide.

“…That’s probably the first compliment I’ve ever gotten from someone who tried to break into my shower.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed. “Break?” You giggled and waved it off. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

A beat passed. “You’re not too bad yourself,” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him. But he heard it. And the shy smile that tugged at his lips was brighter than anything you’d seen him wear so far.

“Sleep, merboy,” you said, grabbing a blanket to toss over him. “You’re gonna need all your strength tomorrow.”

He nodded, but his eyes stayed on you just a moment longer before they fluttered shut—content, safe, and still trying to memorize the shape of you.

The soft click of your pen was the only sound filling the room now. You sat at your desk beneath the glow of your small reading lamp, scribbling into your worn leather-bound logbook. Your handwriting flowed like gentle waves as you recounted everything: the field report from earlier that day, the strange movement you’d seen on the shore, and most of all—the merman.

You paused, eyes flicking toward the bed where Hyunjin lay now, blanket pulled loosely around his waist, his breathing deep and even. The soft rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers curled slightly near his face—it all looked so… human. But you’d seen his tail. You’d seen the shimmer of his scales and the way pain bent his body like a broken current.

He wasn’t human. But somehow, he didn’t feel entirely otherworldly either.

You sighed, placing your pen down and closing the log gently with a satisfying thud. You stared at the bed again, then made your quiet decision.

You grabbed a spare pillow and a folded fleece blanket from the closet, spread it out on the floor beside the bed, and slid down into the makeshift sleeping space. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but you didn’t care. He needed the bed more than you did. And somehow, you liked the idea of being close. Close enough to keep watch.

Sleep took you slowly, like the tide, and you drifted off with the faint sound of the ocean still playing in your head.

---

A loud, unfamiliar clink stirred you awake.

Then another—followed by a slosh. Your brows furrowed, lashes fluttering as you pushed the blanket off your face. The light pouring in from the window told you it was early. But something else reminded you you weren’t alone in the room.

Splash.

Y/N sat up immediately. And then blinked.

“…Hyunjin?”

Your voice was rough with sleep, but the sight before you yanked you into full alertness.

The door to your small bathroom was wide open. Inside, the floor was gleaming with droplets, like a trail of spilled moonlight. And in the middle of your bathtub—full, nearly overflowing with water—sat Hyunjin. He was half-submerged, his elbows propped on the edge of the tub, chin resting on his forearm like a lounging sea prince. His hair was wet again, slicked back to reveal his sharp cheekbones and curious gaze, which locked on yours the moment he heard your voice.

And trailing out of the bathtub—spilling onto the tile floor—was his tail.

It shimmered in the light, the scales shifting colors with every ripple of water: deep ocean blue, obsidian black, hints of silvery green. It flicked lazily now and then, the end curling like a question mark, his fin slightly translucent at the edges.

You stared, eyes wide.

“You… turned back?” you whispered, rising slowly to your feet. “How did you—?”

“I woke. Body… ache,” he said in his soft, careful voice. “Needed water.” He gestured to the bathtub with a small, proud smile. “Tub… good. Like sea. Not same. But… good.”

You looked around. He’d figured out the faucet. The floor was wet, sure—but not flooded. He’d used one of your measuring pitchers to balance the temperature—no idea how he got that down. And here he was. Tail out. Glowing like something carved by the sea gods.

Y/N ran a hand through your hair and groaned with a small laugh. “You… literal fish man. You really filled my tub with your sexy dolphin tail.”

He tilted his head. “Sexy… dolphin?”

“Never mind,” you chuckled, rubbing your temples. “Just—next time, ask. Or at least… splash quieter.”

Hyunjin’s laugh was soft but genuine, almost like bubbles rising to the surface.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, grabbing a towel to mop the floor. “Now we’re both going to smell like salt for the next two weeks.”

He watched you as you moved around, his smile warm. When you glanced back at him, his tail gave a little flick of contentment.

“Tub good,” he said again, like it was the highest compliment.

You shook your head, biting back a grin. “I’ll add that to my log. Merman approves of modern plumbing.”

The bathroom was thick with the scent of saltwater, warm mist curling lazily in the air as sunlight spilled through the cracked window. You stood at the threshold, arms folded loosely across your chest, watching the way Hyunjin’s tail stirred the bathwater like it was second nature.

He looked so at peace there. As if the bathtub, as absurdly small as it was, offered him a sliver of his world again—something familiar. Something that didn’t bleed pain.

You leaned your shoulder against the doorframe. “You look… better.”

Hyunjin opened one eye, gaze drifting up to your face. He blinked slowly, lips curling just slightly at the corners. “Water helps.”

You nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a second. “Yeah, I figured.”

A pause settled. Not awkward—just thick with thought. You stepped closer and sat on the closed toilet lid, knees brushing the side of the tub. Your voice came quieter this time.

“Hyunjin…”

He tilted his head again, curious. “We have to figure out a way to get you back to the ocean.”

At first, there was no reaction.

Then, slowly, his shoulders tensed. The warm contentment in his gaze flickered, lips parting just slightly in confusion—or hesitation.

“I mean,” you rushed gently, “you can’t stay in my dorm forever. As much as I’m enjoying the company of a bathtub-dwelling sea prince, I don’t think my RA will approve.”

He gave a breath of a laugh, but it was hollow. He dropped his gaze to the water, scales catching in the light. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. The water lapped quietly against the porcelain. When he finally did respond, it was soft. Barely a whisper.

“Not… ready.”

Your heart ached at that.

“Is it because of what happened?” you asked gently, reaching out to rest your hand on the edge of the tub near his own. “Are you scared to go back?”

He looked at your then, really looked eyes dark like the deep, searching for something in your expression. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Struggled with the words.

Then, carefully, he said, “Scared… of alone.”

The silence that followed hit like a wave crashing the shoreline.

You blinked, your chest tightening. You hadn’t expected that. Not from a being who came from an entire world beneath the surface. But now… now he was stranded in yours. And he didn’t want to be alone in either.

“You’re not alone,” you whispered.

He nodded slowly, as if he wanted to believe you. His hand brushed yours, just barely like the kiss of tide on a docked boat. You squeezed it gently. “We’ll find a way to get you back home. Together.” Hyunjin exhaled through his nose, his tail flicking once like a nod of agreement. Then he looked at you again, lips twitching into something soft and shy. But when you glanced up, his expression wasn’t dreamy anymore.

It was far away. Cold. Haunted. You lowered her voice. “Hyunjin?” He blinked once, then slowly met your gaze.

“I remember,” he whispered.

Your heart stumbled in her chest. “You remember what?” He hesitated—like dragging words up from the deep cost him something.

“The cages,” he said softly, and your breath hitched.

He looked down at the water, hands gripping the edges of the tub, knuckles pale. “They came. On boats. Bigger than yours. With hooks that burned. With nets that… screamed.”

You felt your throat close. He wasn’t just recounting—he was reliving.

“They pulled us out. My family… my brothers… We didn’t understand. We tried to speak. They laughed.” His jaw trembled. “They cut us open. Not to eat. Not for anger. Just… to look.”

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, moving closer, your hand brushing his arm gently.

His tail shifted beneath the surface like a restless tide, voice shaking. “They said we were myths. That we shouldn’t exist. But we did. We lived. We danced. We sang under the moon.” He paused, a tremor rushing through his body. “And now… they are gone.”

You sat in silence, the ache in your chest thick and rising. Your fingertips curled into the towel on your lap.

“All of them?” you asked softly. His eyes slowly lifted to yours, endless, broken.

“I’m the last.”

The room went quiet. No ocean, no gulls, no passing footsteps. Just the sound of a tub barely large enough to hold grief this deep. You reached for him. Not out of pity—but reverence. Your hand slid over his, grounding. held him like you weren’t afraid of the saltwater or the sorrow or the truth that he carried in his bones.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, and you meant it with your whole being. “You shouldn’t have to carry that.”

“I don’t want to forget them,” he said.

“Then we won’t let them be forgotten,” you replied, tears burning the edges of your voice. “Tell me everything. Their names. The songs. The dances. I’ll write them all. I’ll remember with you.”

His lips parted, chest rising unevenly. Then, slowly, he gave a tiny nod—his hand tightening over yours.

He didn’t thank her with words. He didn’t need to.

Because when you’re the last echo of an entire people, the quiet presence of someone who sees you… is the loudest mercy of all.

---

The morning had unraveled gently around them, filled with soft conversation and the occasional sound of water lapping against porcelain. Hyunjin had calmed, though shadows still lingered beneath his eyes. You were crouched in front of your closet now, pulling out a simple change of clothes—comfortable sweats and a hoodie that would look oversized even on you, let alone on him.

You placed them on the edge of the bed beside a small plate of fruits and crackers. “This should keep you a little full,” you said, giving him a soft look, “I know you said you weren’t hungry, but… in case your stomach changes its mind.”

Hyunjin was sitting on the bed, towel-dried hair falling messily over his collarbones, legs tucked up to his chest like he still wasn’t quite used to them. His tail had faded with the morning light, and in its place were long, lean limbs that still trembled slightly with every shift of movement. But he was healing. Slowly. Carefully.

“I have to go… just for a few hours,” you murmured, grabbing your ID badge and stuffing it into the front pocket of your hoodie.

He looked up fast, eyes wide and sharp. “Go?” His voice was raspy, like the word didn’t sit right in his throat. “Now?”

You smiled gently, walking over to sit beside him. “I don’t want to, trust me. But if I don’t show up, they’ll come looking. And I really don’t want them knocking on this door and finding you trying to nap in the tub.” He tilted his head, visibly uncomfortable. His fingers flexed at his sides like he didn’t quite know what to say—but his eyes said it all. Stay. Please.

“I’ll be back,” you reassured him, brushing a strand of damp hair behind his ear, “I promise. I just need to clock in, finish some reports, act like I didn’t rescue a literal myth from the shoreline last night, and then I’m yours again. Sound fair?”

He didn’t answer right away, but his shoulders slumped, the tension bleeding out with a quiet exhale. “I don’t… like it.”

Your heart pulled. “I know.”

“Danger,” he murmured, voice low. “Land is… danger.”

“I’ve survived it this long,” you smiled, though it was sad around the edges. “But thank you for caring.”

Then, you stood, walking to your desk to grab a notepad and scribbled something down. Walking back, you handed it to him.

“If anyone knocks—anyone at all—you go into the bathroom, lock the door, and don’t make a sound. There’s a towel in the cabinet and a curtain you can pull over the tub. Got it?”

Hyunjin studied the paper like it was sacred. Then, nodding slowly, he whispered, “Hide.”

“Good boy,” you grinned, ruffling his hair gently. He blushed hard—cheeks blooming red under his damp skin—but he looked pleased.

You leaned down, grabbed a soft knit blanket from the end of the bed, and draped it over his lap. “Just rest. Try on the clothes if you’re comfortable. Explore. Don’t break anything. And don’t open the door, even if someone says my name.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed like he wanted to say more—but instead, he reached out slowly and brushed your pinky with his, like he was trying to hold on to you in the smallest way he knew how.

You looked at him, then gently squeezed his hand. “I’ll be back before sunset.”

As you turned to go, bag slung over your shoulder and heart heavy in your chest, you heard him say softly behind you—

“Y/N?”

You turned. “You smell like the ocean.” A faint smile pulled at his lips. “I think that’s why I trust you.”

Your throat went tight. You didn’t know how to respond. So, you slipped out the door, locking it behind you.

---

The sun was sharp overhead, glinting off the glass walls of the Marine Research Center as Y/N swiped her badge through the scanner. The soft beep welcomed her back to the real world—where mythical creatures didn’t exist, and last night’s discovery would’ve landed her in a padded room if she ever breathed a word of it.

She plastered on a neutral smile as she passed the lobby, offering a quick wave to her supervisor, Dr. Malia, who was already deep in conversation with another researcher over a cup of instant coffee.

“Y/N, you’re just in time,” Malia called over, barely glancing up from her tablet. “Need you in Lab 3—readings from yesterday’s dive are showing some unusual activity along the southern ridge.”

Y/N nodded politely, her voice calm. “On it.”

She moved quickly, weaving past teams in wetsuits, interns in scrubs, and walls lined with aquatic maps. But her thoughts were miles away—in a warm dorm room with closed blinds, behind a locked door, where a water-dwelling boy was hopefully still curled up on the bed.

She exhaled through her nose, trying to focus. Inside Lab 3, the familiar hum of machines and the smell of sea salt clung to the air. The monitors flickered with sonar readings and temperature charts, but the moment she saw the movement spikes from the southern ridge, her heart skipped.

That’s where she found him.

The readings pulsed—faint tremors of large movement—but they were irregular, like something had been moving there for a while and suddenly stopped. No wonder the team wanted it flagged. If only they knew.

She sat down at her console, running diagnostics. Her fingers moved, but her mind kept drifting. To Hyunjin's voice, unsure but velvet-smooth. “You good?” a voice asked, breaking through her daze.

She blinked. It was Lani, one of her coworkers, tilting her head curiously as she leaned on the desk beside her. “You seem… somewhere else.”

Y/N forced a soft laugh. “Didn’t sleep much.”

Lani narrowed her eyes teasingly. “Didn’t sleep much or didn’t sleep?”

“Oh my God, not like that,” Y/N scoffed, cheeks warming way too quickly. “I just… got caught up with notes. You know me and my midnight logs.”

“Mm-hmm,” Lani smirked, clearly not buying it. “Well, just don’t die on me before lunch. You owe me ramen.” Y/N waved her off with a small chuckle as the screen lit up again with another pulse. Her heart jumped, but she masked it under a yawn.

She needed to finish up these reports, make an excuse to head back early, and double-check that Hyunjin hadn’t started opening windows or something.

---

The walk back from the Marine Center was a blur. You had shoved your reports into your bag, mumbled something about needing to rest, and practically sprinted the last two blocks to your dorm with a plastic bag swinging at your side—filled with warm rice bowls, fresh fruit, and the kind of seaweed snacks you figured a merman might vibe with. Your key fumbled in the lock for a second—your heart already racing ahead of your hands.

Click.

You swung the door open—

—and the world softened.

There he was. Hyunjin was sprawled lazily across your bed, legs tangled in the sheets, water clinging to the tips of his constantly-damp hair as it curled messily around his face. You’d have to figure out where the heck the water came from. He was hunched over the tiny wooden chess set you kept on your shelf for decoration, eyes narrowed in fascination as he moved a knight and immediately tried to counter it with a bishop—against himself. Like he was having a full-on strategic war solo.

He looked up the moment the door creaked open. His eyes lit up like sunrise on open water.

And then he chirped—a soft, echoing, melodic sound that rippled from his throat and filled the room like a song sung underwater. It was strange and beautiful, rising and falling like a tide, and loud enough to startle you into stillness.

You blinked.

“…What was that?” you asked through a surprised laugh, dropping the bag onto your desk. “Was that—was that a hello?”

Hyunjin’s lips curled into the most angelic, boyish smile as he sat up straighter, fingers still ghosting over a rook. “It means…” He touched his chest, then motioned towards yours, and looked you in the eye. “Warm return.”

Your breath caught. “You mean like... welcome back?” He nodded, then shyly added, “But more.”

You didn’t know what to do with that for a second, heart thudding stupidly hard. “Well… warm return to you too, I guess,” you teased, brushing your hair back and walking over to him. “I brought food.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, sniffing the air like a curious cat. “It smells… green.”

“It’s seaweed,” you grinned. “And rice, and a few other things that won’t kill your stomach. I promise.” He took the bag from your hands slowly, reverently, like it was a gift from a goddess. You handed him chopsticks, and he stared at them like they were mini swords.

You sat beside him, close enough that your shoulders brushed. “So… how was your day, Fish Prince?”

“Strange,” he said after chewing thoughtfully. “The mirror makes my face look upside down if I bend over it. And the blanket trap is warm.” You snorted. “It’s called tucking yourself in. And you’re supposed to sleep under it, not roll into a sushi burrito.”

Hyunjin mimicked “sushi burrito” to himself and giggled behind the rice bowl. Your chest bloomed at the sound.

Once he’d eaten his fill, you leaned back against the headboard, pulling one leg up and chewing your lip.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said softly, eyes flicking to him. “We… we can’t keep you here forever. You need to get back to the ocean. I know where. Quiet, but… it’ll be hard, but I think I can get you there soon. It’s just—people might be watching the coast. We’ll need to be careful.”

Hyunjin’s eyes darkened slightly with understanding. “Return?” he asked, voice gentler.

You nodded. He looked down at his hands, curling his fingers in thought. Then he whispered, “I trust you.”

You reached over and brushed a bit of rice off his cheek. “Then we better make a plan.”

You sat cross-legged on the bed, notepad in hand, your brows furrowed as you sketched out a rough timeline. A coastal tide map was open beside you, and your pencil tapped restlessly against the paper.

“We’ll need to leave before dawn,” you murmured, half to yourself, half to the echo of the plan forming in your head. “Maybe tonight. I can grab wetsuits, maybe—”

You felt it again. That unrelenting gaze. Without even looking up, you sighed through a soft laugh. “Hyunjin… I’ve warned you about staring.” His voice came slow, curious, like he was rolling the words on his tongue. “But you’re… beautiful when you think. Your eyes talk.”

That made you blink up at him. He was sitting at the foot of the bed now, curled in the blanket he refused to let go of, legs drawn up like a question mark, hair falling in soft curtains around his face. His eyes were impossibly focused—on your lips, your cheeks, your very being.

“Humans…” he started slowly, “How do they show… when they love?”

You tilted her head. “Love?”

He nodded, a gentle seriousness washing over his face. “Like… like how I feel when you smile. Or when you came back, and I thought the room had air again.”

You didn’t speak for a second. Your heart was stuttering, and your mouth had gone dry.

“Well…” you said, voice a bit shaky but trying to sound casual. “We hug. We hold hands. We kiss. We say things—sometimes silly, sometimes deep. It depends.”

Hyunjin listened like a student before a sacred text. “And what does a kiss mean?” You looked at him then. Really looked. “It means… I see you. I trust you. It’s… a kind of giving. A promise. Sometimes it’s just fun. Sometimes it’s everything.”

There was a pause. A silence soaked in something heavy and gentle.

Then—

“In my world,” Hyunjin said softly, “We sing in pairs. The song is just for the one we love. It never sounds the same with anyone else. And we dance, too. Not with our feet… but with the way we move through the water together. Like… like we’re breathing in the same rhythm.”

You smiled, heart tightening. “That’s beautiful,” you whispered.

He studied you for another long beat. “Can I… try it?” he asked. “Your way. The human way.”

You blinked, startled. “You… you want to kiss me?” He nodded, slow but sure. “I think I love you,” he said simply. “And I want you to know. I want to speak it in your language.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to tell him that you both were nothing close to a relationship, but your breath caught somewhere in your throat—and he moved forward, leaning in with a hesitancy that felt sacred. Like he was approaching a sunrise.

His fingers brushed your cheek, light as a question. His gaze dipped to your lips.

And then—

He kissed you. You were beginning to think he’d seen other people do this for him to know what to do. A couple by the sea, workers on deck sneaking around. It was soft at first—like he was learning her shape. Testing how their worlds aligned at the edges. His lips were warm, gentle, tasting of salt and curiosity. He lingered for a breath, then another, before pulling back just slightly… and resting his forehead against hers.

You hadn’t moved. Couldn’t move.

He whispered, “Did I do it right?”

You let out a breathless laugh, eyes closing. “You did…it? I guess…”

Your fingers hovered near your lips, the ghost of his kiss still blooming like an aftertaste. Hyunjin was watching you again—his eyes wide, waiting, like he wasn’t sure if he’d crossed a line or unlocked a door. “That was…” you cleared your throat, heart thudding as she tried to find her voice. “Really good for a first time. But um… kissing has a bit of a rhythm to it. Like your songs, remember?”

He tilted his head. “Like a… duet?”

You smiled despite herself. “Exactly.” He leaned forward again, a little too eager, and you giggled, pushing him back gently. “Okay, no pouncing. Let’s take this slow. Follow my lead.”

You shifted closer on the bed, cupping his face softly. His cheeks were so warm under your touch. “When we kiss,” you whispered, “don’t just press in. Feel it. Think of it like… listening with your lips.” He nodded once, completely enthralled. Why were you doing this? You’re teaching a merman how to kiss? Not like he’s going to need it in the future or anything. Your noses brushed, breaths mingling—and then you kissed him again.

This time, it was slower. Softer. Your lips met in a careful rhythm, Hyunjin mimicking your movements like a dancer finally learning the steps. He let out the smallest sound—something between a hum and a purr, low and delicate, and so intimate it sent a shock down your spine.

Your body tensed involuntarily.

That sound. It curled around your spine like heat. It wasn't just affectionate—it was sensual, primal in a way he likely didn’t even understand. You gasped, pulling back suddenly, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

Hyunjin blinked, confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, no—” you laughed nervously, waving your hands, desperate to cool your face and your hormones. “That was… you’re doing great. You’re… a very fast learner.”

He beamed. “So, we kiss more now?”

“Absolutely not!” you squeaked, scrambling for your notepad like it was a lifeline. “We’re gonna focus on the plan, okay? The plan. The whole get-you-back-to-the-ocean thing. Remember that?”

Hyunjin pouted, flopping back onto the mattress, watching you with lidded eyes and a pout that was frankly unfair. You kept your gaze firmly on your scribbles.

“Okay,” you muttered to herself, “tonight tops, avoid the main marine patrol routes, smuggle you through the south dock…”

“I like kissing,” Hyunjin said helpfully behind you.

“Hyunjin,” you warned, voice tight.

“Yes?”

“Please. Let me focus.”

“Okay,” he said sweetly. “But after?”

You buried your face in your hands.

God help you. You were going to need a stronger distraction than a map and a marker.

---

The cold air bit at Y/N’s skin as she tightened her hoodie around her body, footsteps soft against the gravel path leading away from her dorm. Midnight painted everything in shadows and silver light. The marine center’s lab lights were off for the night, save for the emergency glow that hummed faintly near the edges of the supply shed.

Clutching a small bag and her keycard, Y/N glanced over her shoulder once more. Every step away from Hyunjin made her chest tighten, like some part of her knew he was still watching her from that tub, curled in warmth, eyes glowing in moonlight.

She just needed supplies. Just gauze, saline, maybe a blanket or two. Nothing traceable. Nothing suspicious. She’d just swiped her card through the lock when—

“Y/N?”

She flinched like a thief, spinning fast. A flashlight flicked on, landing on her face. Oh crap.

“Layla?” she blurted, blinking against the light.

Layla—a fellow researcher and one of her dorm neighbors—lowered the flashlight, brows raised, dark hair tied up in a sleepy bun. She was in sweatpants and a coat, holding a mug of tea like she’d only just come out for air.

“What are you doing out here? It’s almost 1 AM.”

Y/N froze. Her mind raced. Say something normal. Say something smart.

“Oh! Uh… I forgot I left my sketchbook in the lab,” she lied quickly, offering a sheepish grin. “Needed it for some ideas I had about tide cycles.” Layla tilted her head. “You’re sketching tide cycles? At midnight?” Y/N laughed nervously, cringing internally. “You know me. I get randomly inspired. Couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d be productive.”

There was a long beat. Layla sipped her tea slowly, watching her. “…You okay though? You look kind of… flushed.”

“Flushed?” Y/N swallowed. Was she still red from the kissing? Oh God. “Probably just the chill. I was in bed and didn’t think I’d be out long.”

“Hmm.” Layla nodded, then smiled, yawning. “Well, don’t stay out too long. If Dr. Malia catches you raiding the supply kit again, she’ll have a fit.”

“Noted,” Y/N said, exhaling as her friend turned to head back to the dorm. Y/N waited until she disappeared from sight before slipping into the shed. Her fingers were shaking—part nerves, part adrenaline.

She gathered what she needed in under five minutes: more gauze, protein bars, wet cloths, a heating pad. As she stuffed the supplies into her bag, her heart thrummed like a drumbeat in her ears.

Not from fear. From urgency. Hyunjin needed to go back. And soon.

Because the longer he stayed…the harder it was going to be to let him go.

Y/N’s hand hovered above Hyunjin’s shoulder, hesitant to wake him. He looked peaceful in her bed, for once. The soft light of dawn hadn’t broken yet—only a bluish tint stretched across the room, casting shadows on his long limbs tangled in the blanket. His hair was damp against the pillow, tail gone now, legs stretched awkwardly, human again—but still otherworldly.

She knelt beside him and gently touched his shoulder. “Hyunjin,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Wake up. It’s time.” He stirred immediately, blinking hazily. When he saw her face, something in his gaze shifted—alert now. He sat up, brows furrowing. No questions. He trusted her.

She offered a towel and a pair of her loose marine trousers. “Dry off. You’ll need these,” she murmured, glancing at the door.

Hyunjin obeyed, fumbling with the fabric but managing to wrap the towel around his waist and slide the pants on, even if a bit clumsily. His legs were stronger now, steadier. She helped him with the drawstring, their fingers brushing—brief, electric.

They moved like ghosts through the building—silent, invisible. Y/N led them down the emergency stairwell, the soles of their feet brushing the cold tile, their breaths caught in their throats. Every creak of a door sounded like a shout. She held her breath when they passed the night guard’s office, her hand clutching Hyunjin’s tight.

He looked at her like she was leading him to the stars. Once they hit the back doors, Y/N paused, peering through the narrow glass pane. The coast behind the center was calm, the water like ink under the faintest touch of moonlight.

“Now,” she whispered, and they slipped out.

The small boat was waiting—an old rowboat with a modest engine, one she’d repaired herself last year during maintenance season. Hyunjin stepped into the shallows with careful feet, his balance off but improving. She helped him in, her hands steadying his arms.

He sat on the edge of the bench seat, watching her like she was a miracle in motion. Y/N climbed in behind him, heart thundering, hands quickly working over the ignition. The soft whirr-click of the engine starting filled the air.

They were moving.

The boat glided over the glassy water, away from the shore, away from the dorm, the marine center, the human world—just the two of them under the sliver of a moon. Wind tugged at her hair. Salt kissed her lips. Hyunjin was quiet beside her, eyes wide as he watched the horizon.

Y/N gripped the steering handle, jaw set.

This was it. No turning back now.

The boat rocked gently under the hush of the very early morning sky, the sound of soft waves licking against the sides blending with the distant hum of the world still asleep.

Y/N had steered them just far enough—beyond the line where marine patrols might sweep through, but close enough that she could come up with a believable excuse if someone questioned her presence.

“We’re not far,” she muttered, cutting the engine so they drifted in silence now. “This should be okay, but I still have to think of what I’ll tell them—God, maybe I’ll say I came out to chart the tides or observe plankton migration. No, that sounds stupid—ugh, maybe I can say I dropped something, like a waterproof recorder—do I even own a waterproof recorder?”

She kept talking, eyes darting around, hands nervously adjusting the rope tied to the oar, the bag at her feet, anything to keep from looking at him.

“You have to go now,” she said, finally turning. “We don’t have time, and if they find me out here with you—”

Her voice faltered when her eyes met his.

Hyunjin wasn’t moving. He wasn’t scrambling to dive in, or panicking. He just sat there, elbows resting on his knees, watching her with those impossibly soft eyes—dark, vast, unreadable, like the very ocean they sat on. His gaze held her steady, like he was anchoring her to this moment.

She swallowed hard.

“You have to hurry,” she tried again, forcing the words through the tightness in her throat. She looked away, blinking fast. “Please. Before someone sees.”

But her voice betrayed her—too brittle. Her hand tightened around the edge of the boat, nails digging into the old wood. She couldn’t let herself feel this. They haven’t even spent a week together and she felt like it’d been a year already. It was probably the kiss.

Not now.

Not when he was looking at her like that. Like she was home. Hyunjin tilted his head slightly, the sea breeze playing with the strands of damp hair framing his face. He reached out gently, not touching her yet—just hovering his fingers near hers.

Still, he said nothing.

He didn’t have to. The boat drifted in a hush, the world wrapped in that soft pre-dawn blue that made everything feel suspended in time.

Hyunjin stood barefoot on the edge of the boat, trousers abandoned in a loose heap beside him. His tail shimmered into view under the moonlight—pearlescent blues and silvers catching the glow like he was carved from the ocean itself. Water dripped from his skin, running down the length of his scales in lazy trails, and yet… he hesitated.

He looked back at you.

You stood there, arms crossed like you were trying to hold yourself together, chin tilted up in some desperate attempt at bravery—but your eyes were glassy, your throat tight. What was wrong with you?

“You need to go,” you said softly, a weak smile tugging at your lips. “Now, Hyunjin.”

But you didn’t sound convincing. Not even to yourself. And maybe he sensed it.

Because he didn’t jump. He turned to you fully, sitting on the boat’s edge, and leaned in. His hand cupped your cheek so tenderly it undid the dam you were trying so hard to hold up and before you could even breathe, he kissed you.

It was soft, warm, filled with something far more permanent than either of them had planned for. He pulled back an inch, just enough to see your stunned face.

And then he kissed your again—deeper this time, like he wanted to remember what you tasted like. When you finally pulled apart, you gave a breathless laugh, blinking through the tears brimming in your lashes.

“You’re getting better,” you whispered, brushing your fingers down his jaw. “Every time.”

Your smile faded. “But you seriously have to go now. Before it’s too late.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, to stay just one more second, to soak you in a little longer. Before you could counter your actions, you gently pushed his shoulder.

“Go,” you whispered, voice cracking. “Please.”

He let himself fall backwards into the sea with a graceful splash, tail flicking in one final arc.

You didn’t waste time. She threw a decoy box—full of ocean samples, broken equipment, anything you could gather last minute—into the water. It hit the surface right as a voice called out behind her.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing out here?” It was your manager.

You snapped your head toward the shore. “Oh—hey! Sorry! I dropped a specimen container during a test dive last night. I came back to look for it before the tide took it.”

The manager frowned, clearly annoyed but unconvinced enough to challenge you. “At this hour?”

You forced a tired laugh. “I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get it done now before the boats start moving.” He gave a grumble of approval and walked away without another word. You turned back to the sea, breath caught in her throat.

The surface rippled gently… and there he was. Just beneath the water, Hyunjin’s eyes gleamed in the dark. He looked at her with that same softness from before. One last goodbye.

Then, as if the ocean itself responded to his emotions, he let out a sound—not a word, not a call. Just a song. A pulse of something deep and ancient and mournful that rippled across the water like a shiver.

It hit her like a memory she never had, aching in her chest.

Her tears finally slipped free.

Just a few. But enough.

“Goodbye,” she whispered.

I hope it's okay I'm getting better ideas I promise 🙏

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