#i mean i just think he would be perfect in it

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny Is A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

(not in a necessarily bad way and it's by Clockwork's design)

Bats, or Constantine, or the JL, or whoever you want to be close to Danny in this prompt, don't notice it right away. It takes them a while to figure out its not purely coincidence. And even after they do figure it out, they still have their doubts.

The thing is, it doesn't work all the time. It also doesn't seem to have a system or a schedule to it, nor is it any kind of a superpower, as far as they can understand. By God, does Danny have way too many superpowers, but most of them are consistent, and yet this one... is weird. Weirder than anything they've seen before, and they've seen a lot, okay.

It also only works if Danny does it without thinking.

"You know what'd be perfect right now? A cheese sandwich," Danny says over the comms, in the middle of the fight with Dr. Freeze, "A warm, grilled cheese sandwich just out of the toas- Owch, what?" There's a pause. And then, "Guys, you're not gonna believe it, a cheese sandwich just smacked me in the face! I think someone threw it out of the window or something!" Danny sounds bewildered, but excited, and there's a sound of chewing from his comm now. At least he is eating, so that's good.

"I fucking hate robots," he grumbles the other day, punching his way through the Brainiac invasion in Metropolis, with no comm and only for the Supes to overhear, "No, correction, I hate only evil robots. The ones that interrupt my astronomy class. The ones that shoot motherfucking lasers and walk like crabs, and ruin a perfect day, and- I wish- aw, fuck, no, that's bad wording. Don't wish for shit. But if all these robots would just suddenly, miraculously malfunction and stop attacking me and the whole city, that would be, like, real nice of them."

A few minutes later, something goes wrong with the Brainiac's control over the army of robots, and all of them just stop moving and fall down at once. It is deemed as a chance, a lucky shot, a coincidence. Supes keeps quiet over what he heard Danny say.

"Oh, you bitch-ass fruitloop, you know what I want?" Danny yells at Plasmius, as the ghost is laughing like a madman, "I want a fucking brick to fall down right on your head, like, right now! Maybe that can set your brains straight for at least five minutes!" And even before he is finished talking, there's something falling down from the sky and hitting Plasmius's head. It's not a brick, to be exact, it's Miss Martian's shoe, though. She has no idea how it even came undone and fell from her foot. But it did somehow knock Plasmius out cold, so there's that.

It doesn't happen all the time. Red Robin does the math - the improbable accidents only happen in about 26% of the situations, given that Danny says something. It's by no means a reliable power. It also doesn't happen only during the fights: there were numerous times when Danny just said something like 'I wonder if the cafeteria serves garlic bread today' and sure enough, there's garlic bread there. Even if it was not on the menu. Ever.

They try to question Danny himself, but he has no idea. He doesn't even notice the coincidences most of the times - which is not surprising, knowing that they only happen in one out of four situations and Danny is known to have a short attention span. So, after a few unsuccessful investigations and failed attempts at calculating how this even works, they all give up. It has never jinxed anything, as far as they know, so everyone just leaves it be.

Danny is just magically lucky like that.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is having a good laugh about it. Danny's suggestions amuse him, and it's funny to watch the other superheroes having a mental breakdown over it, so he rigs the timeline from time to time. Just a little.

[secretlovezz]

Whiplash

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 2010

A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞

You weren't there... again.

Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.

And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.

Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.

He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.

He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.

"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"

Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."

Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.

At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.

Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.

"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"

The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.

"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.

He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"

《----------♡

When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.

He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.

Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.

To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.

You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.

He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.

When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.

Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.

Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."

Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.

Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.

"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."

The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"

You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."

You didn't want to go back to normal.

For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."

Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.

Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.

Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.

"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."

All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."

"Don't be mean Eddie."

He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.

In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.

When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.

"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.

"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."

His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."

"I won't Eds, I promise."

"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"

You laugh, "I have no idea."

[fushitoru]

thinking about writing a bridgerton!gojo fic (series?)....

duke gojo, who has stirred up everyone and their mamas with news of how he is finally joining the marriage scene this season after years of fooling around. of course, to no one's surprise, he is the season's most eligible bachelor. he's the strongest, whether that be in terms of wealth or other manly pursuits gentlemen ought to be good at. gojo isn't marrying for love. he just needs to be tied down to secure his inheritance so he can gamble and fool around at the gentleman's clubs with his friends until he drops dead one day.

you seek to be the perfect daughter in front of your parents. you have been taught to be the picture of grace and nobility, proficient at all things a lady must be good at: needlework, art, music...you name it. but deep inside, you have an affinity for literature---feminist literature. you secretly feel aversion towards the idea of marrying just to be a submissive wife but will not show it. you are perfectly content marrying any man that should not harm you as long as he has the means to provide for you and make your family proud.

upon your presentation to the queen, you are immediately crowned a diamond. the first ball of the season comes, and gojo undoubtedly has his eyes sight on you as the diamond of the season. after all, why would a duke need to settle for anything less when he can buy the shiniest jewel?

on your dance with him, you give all the template responses. "i would sire as many kids as my husband desires." you are afraid of pregnancy and even more so of raising kids. "of course I read byron!" you hate byron's poetry.

gojo is content, and you, tired of all the stares and hushed whispers that have followed you through the night, leave to get fresh air outside in the terrace. only to overhear:

"a bit simpleminded. has no opinions of substance that should cause conflict. she's perfectly fine for a wife. i shall begin courting her and will soon pro---"

at that moment, you have one thought in your mind: you will never marry satoru gojo. in fact, you abhor him.

cue insults thrown back and forth. when it comes down to having to marry gojo, the most eligible bachelor and the option that will make your parents the proudest, will it be a matter of fillial piety or...love?

dear reader, this season has definitely come forth with many promises of thinly veiled hatred, jealousy, and burning passion.

oops this is longer than the silly little thought i wanted to post but welp. the smut i have planned for this is outright nastyyy

comment if you'd like to be on the taglist for this

i also promise i have not forgotten about beach boy gojo :3 running into a bit of writer's block for that so my inbox is always open for ideas <3

[luveline]

HI!!! so i am obsessed with your reader x coworker james first kiss fic. can we maybe get something about what came after? like how were the interactions the day or week after, how did they behave around each other, did james tell the boys or was he too nervous?

—you and James maintain a facade that Remus sees through

James wheels his chair to be as far from you as possible. He leans back, turns his monitor. Through the gap, he has a perfect window of your face without it being obvious that he’s staring. Well, sort of. 

Stop staring. 

James reads Remus’ slack message in surprise. He glances at you, finds you still snacking on chocolate covered somethings less covertly than you mean to be, and decides to grace his friend with a message back. 

Nope 

James, Remus messages. 

I’m not really staring 

You’re staring. She can definitely tell 

James looks back to you, hoping to prove Remus wrong, but you’re staring straight at him. He has the instinct to look away and the sense not to, charmed into grinning when you squint at him, your mock suspiciousness adorable. 

“James,” Remus says, clearing his throat. 

James pulls his gaze away reluctantly. “What?” 

“Can you answer my email?” 

The email isn’t an email, but another slack message. Are you serious right now? You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried 

James flicks a pen lid at him. “Obvious about what?” he mouths. 

You get up and stretch, tactically failing to meet anyone’s eyes as you pick up your empty glass of water and leave. 

“James, what’s going on?” 

“What ever could you mean, my love?” 

Remus rolls his chair toward. “Don’t flirt with me. I’m serious, what the hell is going on with you? You’re supposed to hate the girl.” 

“Hate is such a strong word.”

“Well, you’re being a bit much no matter what.” 

James bites his cheek in a hurry to straighten up. “You think so?” 

Remus just stares at him.

James has done a fantastic job at keeping your kiss a secret. He doesn’t know how, mind you —you kissed him, you kissed him, you asked if you could and you kissed him like a sweetheart with the softest mouth he’s ever had the fortune to feel pressed against his own. 

Since your kiss, he’s been feeling weirdly poetic. He totally gets all those Carol Ann Duffy poems they made him read at school now. 

One day without telling anybody is impressive, at least to his own standards. “I know what I’m doing,” he says. 

Remus frowns. “I’d love to be informed on what exactly that is.” 

“Certain events have transpired and convinced me that I was quite wrong to have judged our girl so harshly.”

“Certain events?” 

“I’m allowed some mystery,” James says, before smiling so hard it makes him squint and his cheeks apple. He rubs at his face roughly in an attempt to move forward, but he remembers the way your kiss had melded from soft and shy to hungry. Fuck, he loved it. He needs another one. He has no idea how to get it. “Ugh, I’m gonna go get my lunch from the fridge.” 

“Sure you are. Alright, well, I’m gonna find Sirius and maybe he can convince you to start acting normal again.”

James goes to the kitchen first but abandons his charade when you aren’t there. He grabs his lunch, tucking it under his arm as he makes his way through to the break room. You’re thankfully, blissfully, sitting by the open window with a shop-bought salad. 

He nods at the chair across from you. “Can I sit?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s all you're eating?” he asks. A little tray of salad is hardly enough to keep you going until the end of the day. “I have gyoza chilli noodle soup, it’s amazing.” 

“You’re gonna eat it cold?” you ask. 

He leans forward, elbows on the table, holding your gaze. “No, but I’m busy right now.” He needs time to look you over. Every time he realises how pretty you are is like another beat of his capering pulse. 

“Don’t harass me.” 

“I’m not harassing you.” 

“What would you call this?” You stab a few pieces of lettuce onto your fork. “I can’t have much more for dinner, I just had half a packet of chocolate covered strawberries.” 

“Don’t say that, like some snacks and a salad are more than you’re allowed. Here, I'll warm this up and you can share. You’ll really like it, the gyoza are amazing.” 

“So what, you’re gonna take care of me now?” you ask. You’re teasing, but there’s a slight edge of bitterness to it like you believe what you’re saying. James is swift to set that right, though he stays speaking in tongues with you.

“I’ve been trying to.” James can hear footsteps at the doorway, and besides, you’re right, he’s being too nice. He sucks in an unbothered breath. “Whatever, loser, stick to your sad salad.” 

Your eyes widen. “I don’t want your cold soup, you idiot.” 

Sirius and Remus filter in with one of your coworkers just behind them. “I thought you said he was being weird?” Sirius asks. “He seems pretty normal to me.” 

Remus sighs forlornly, prompting a side hug from his boyfriend as he shepherds him to the table where you and James are sitting.

“He’s always being weird,” you say. 

James kicks your foot gently. You pick through your salad with a poorly concealed smile. 

[mariasont]

Training Day - A.H

a/n: you all wanted more bimbo!assistant!reader and i'm a woman of the people so here we are

on a real note i love her and she is my queen

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you don't understand why hotch is giving you training lessons, but apparently he thinks you need it

warnings: talking about men following her in public YUCK, hotch trying to train reader, reader not knowing what's going on, cuties being cute

wc: 0.8k

"I still don't really know why we're doing this."

You were grumbling more than was characteristic for you, with every part of your body, your arms, your legs, and even your ass, suffering from a dull ache--sadly, not the result of any enjoyable pastime. After being knocked over more times than you cared to count, Hotch extended his hand toward you. You gladly took it, letting him pull you to your feet.

Your fingers deftly pulled at your pink tracksuit top over the sliver of abdomen that that had been revealed in your less-than-graceful take down. Hotch had pointed out the impracticality of your outfit when you showed up, but you stood firm on the principle that if early training sessions were expected of you, then your attire would be non-negotiable.

"Because I want to be confident in your abilities to defend yourself." His arms folded over his chest as his gaze bore into you, challenging you to contradict him.

"I'm just here to look pretty and answer your phones, crime-fighting isn't in my job description. That's your thing, Mr."

You shuffled back to your original position anyway, hands coming up to shield your face as you mentally sorted through the steps, or at least tried to, struggling to recall the correct foot placement.

"Shoulder width apart."

It's like he could read your mind. You were not entirely convinced that he couldn't.

"Crime-fighting doesn't have to be your thing," Hotch stated, narrowing the gap between you, his hands firmly correcting your stance. You sometimes found an excuse to stand just so, hoping he would step in to manhandle you into place. "But being part of the BAU, even peripherally, means you're not immune to risks. I need to know you can handle yourself... for my piece of mind."

"Sir, is this like, your super-secret way of showing you care?"

Your lips twisted into a half-smile as his hands clasped your waist a little tighter than necessary: a warning that said you were playing with fire. His fingers then moved to direct yours, positioning them closer to your face, his knuckles lightly grazing across your cheek in the process.

"Eyes on me, stay focused."

"My eyes are always on you, sir," you say, your head canting to one side. 

He released a controlled breath, giving you a level look that signaling you were pushing it. Nevertheless, you flashed him a beaming smile and initiated the move he had been drilling into you. The tip of your elbow made contact with the soft of his stomach.

He issued a muted groan as he intercepted your arm, preventing it from digging further, and in a fluid motion he spun you around, pinning your backside to his front.

"That was perfect, right?" you squealed, your fist shooting up in victory.

The sudden jump caused his hands to shift from your arm, finding a new perch on your hips to steady your... enthusiastic bounce.

You whirled in his grasp, the proximity sending a faint hum through his chest. Clearing his throat, he managed. "Yes, uh, that was it."

Clutching his shirt, the fabric crumpled beneath your purple-tipped fingers, you giggled. "Just imagine someone trying to follow me to my car now. They wouldn't know what hit 'em!"

"Is that a common occurrence?" The lines of his face gathered into that customary look of concern, that characteristic frown of his making an appearance.

He gently disentangled your hands from his shirt, not letting go, but rather laying his atop of yours.

"Well, sometimes, but I usually just call Morgan, put him on speaker, and he starts talking about the FBI stuff," you explained, giving a light shrug that nudged the zipper of your jacket down just a smidge. "They take off after that."

He clenched his eyes shut, pausing momentarily before reopening it. One hand let go of yours to adjust the zipper back to its proper position.

"That makes my stomach hurt." And it did. "Don't hesitate to call me when that happens. I'll come get you."

Your smile stretched ear to ear, potent enough to make him feel lightheaded. "You know, with all these trainings, who needs to call for help?"

"How about we compromise, and you still call me, regardless?"

You pout your lips, shiny with clear gloss rather than your usual pink. "That sounds less like a compromise and more like a you thing, ya know?"

Hotch's laughter rumbled from his chest, a warm, breathy sound, as he let go of your hands, which he realized he had been holding far longer than appropriate, and guided you to the door.

"You don't appreciate the added precautions I'm willing to take for your safety?"

Dragging your sneaker on the floor, you plucked your bag from the wall as Hotch closed the door behind you. "Gee, when you say it like that..."

When you walked down the hall you seemed to be perfectly in step.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @sarcasm-and-stiles

join my taglist here

[inevesgf]

jealousy, jealousy • lando norris

request rules here.

formula one masterlist here.

synopsis ➔ two close friends ignore their love for each other until it becomes too much to handle for one of them.

warnings ⭒ lonnggg, kind of angst/comfort, swearing, use of she/her, driver x female!reader, driver x race engineer!reader, mentions of sex, jealous lando wink wink.

you searched in all different types of nooks and crannys in the world to find love. desperately grasping at the idea, peaking in places to find that good in the bad. but it was hard, you knew that, time and time again you were reminded of why you shut yourself out so much. the worry, the pain — in the end you thought maybe the good times didn’t even make up for the bad ones. you had plenty of misfortune in your love life throughout the years, whether it was your fault or your partners. you found yourself becoming picky: a perfectionist to the love you receive when the love you gave wasn’t quite good enough either. it had come to the point where you became so detached from finding that perfect person. you stopped searching and stood silent like a predator in a bush waiting to catch its prey.

love comes unexpectedly, you had heard that saying plenty of times before that now you have come to believe it. you stopped wasting nights on men that didn’t matter, you stopped trying to impress people — you were just yourself. as years past, friends found themselves shocked at the idea that you would date someone. they saw you as headstrong, independent, and the thought of you in love made them question if they were dreaming. you didn’t want to be seen like some hopeless romantic — someone who didn’t want to love — but you didn’t want to seem desperate either. it seemed as if not even the perfect medium of those two was reachable where you had now hid yourself.

you had been single for a few years now and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you missed being in a relationship. those around you saw you as independent, someone who didn’t need a man, but the need was more of something your heart wanted. you loved too hard, it’s what got you hurt in the end, and as much as you tried to fight it off, it was still there. you masked yourself with a facade that you were too good for any man, that you didn’t want them falling at your feet and nor would you fall at theirs. love was complicated, embarrassing, and you couldn’t even come to fathom the situation you had wiggled yourself into.

you had found yourself in a world full of men, smack dab in the middle of being an engineer for mercedes in the formula one. you took your job seriously and didn’t let much get in the way, but to admit you were far more than just an engineer to some of those men; a friend at that. you found yourself being invited to parties by the FIA, other formula one racing teams, and some of the drivers individually. while you weren’t totally the party type, you didn’t hate the idea of tagging along every now and then. while working for formula one, you put your gaze nowhere else but forward. it was distracting being constantly surrounded by the media, those with higher positions, and even sometimes all-too-good-looking race car drivers. you would never let something so silly get in the way of your position, but sometimes with a little bit of liquid courage, things happen.

“can you hand me my cologne?” the voice of lando norris boomed throughout the hotel room as you cladded your way to the bathroom before handing it to him. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you dress so fancy.” he raised his brow at you, making you scoff as you shooed him away. “i mean — if the event calls for it, i will. but after this, you’ll never see me in kitten heels again if it was up to me.” you laughed, adjusting the straps of your black dress to sit more on your shoulders. roaming throughout the paddocks before races and on practice days, you had found yourself making friends with drivers simply from running into them. lando norris was one of those drivers, and now you wear the not-so-honorary title of being one of his best friends. though with lando, there were things you did that made you more than best friends: dancing in the rain, snuggling while watching a movie. there was something so romantic about it, but in your manor, you brushed it off as an act of friendship. “you look nice, though.” he sheepishly smiled, combing the curls on the top of his head back neatly. “well thank you —“ you said sincerely before checking the time, “now hurry up, we’re going to be late!”

an event held by the FIA to bring racers and race crew alike together was something you weren’t completely looking forward too. you liked your crew just enough to be alongside them, but not having to see them outside of work was sure a pleasantry. the night was spent with downing shots, doing anything to drown out the despair of being there. you didn’t think your actions would have consequences until the next morning when you found yourself waking up in an unfamiliar bed. you thought maybe it was inevitable to happen; after a few drinks, your worries and cares floated away. when you were intoxicated, you didn’t care who you were with, you didn’t care what you were doing, all you wanted to do was have fun — and fun you had as you turned around in the bed to be met with a curly headed man.

“good morning,” he smiled sheepishly, his eyes squinting to adjust to the sunlight peeking in through the windows. “good morning, danny.” you smiled softly, a tang of embarrassment lingering on your naked skin from under the blanket. daniel ricciardo was a close friend of yours. with you similar humor, it was easy to say that your personalities clashed very well together. you had always had some eyes for the driver, i mean, there was no denying he was handsome. when in groups, it’s like you two gravitated towards each other, always getting along the most. it was awkward seeing daniel in this sense, but part of you liked it. it didn’t feel as much of a stupid mistake like other drunk hookups had; this one felt comfortable. when his eyes finally adjusted to the light in the room, he smiled at you. you smiled back, a little bit of a nervous laugh falling from your lips.

you were lying if you were to say this was the last and only time you had found yourself in daniel’s bed. you would hangout, put on a movie, have drinks, and on some occasions, you’d end up in his bed. it was more friends with benefits than anything, but you couldn’t help but feel safe and respected in his presence. it was a late friday night, around ten pm, where you found yourself sitting atop danny’s lap as some disney movie played in the background. you were falling asleep gradually as time went on and was only snapped out of your tired state when you received a text message from lando.

lalando

➔ can i come over pretty please

you

im sorry lan im not home rn :(

lalando

➔ where are you?

you

GEEZ nosey much?

im at danny’s

lalando

➔ what time will you be home?

you

im not sure, i’ll lyk

you ask sooo many questions

lalando

➔ smh cut me some slack

➔ sorry i want to hangout with

my bestest friend everrr

➔ do you want me to just come

over in the morning then?

you

i don’t know when i’ll be home

im sorry lan

lalando

➔ nono its ok, don’t worry

➔ WAIT

➔ YOU DONT KNOW WHEN

YOULL BE HOME? IN THE MORNING?

➔ ARE YOU SPENDING THE NIGHT

AT DANIELS PLACE?!?!?

seen at 10:24pm

a small laugh escaped your lips as you read landos frantic confusion. you were sure he would pelt with you hundreds of questions tomorrow and you knew exactly what you had to do: deny, deny, deny. lando and your other friends always tried to pry personal information out of you: deep secrets, hookup stories — you thought it was funny. you prided yourself on being a partially opened book. people knew things about you, but not too much, and you wanted to keep it that way.

a cozy night spent at danny’s laying in bed and watching a movie was something you looked forward to. sometimes it had you questioning if you liked him. it was a funny thought, a silly one, especially considering most dates didn’t go anywhere besides the bedroom. it was basically written in ink that you and daniel were merely fuck buddies and nothing else. you two had mutual respect for each other, but that respect wasn’t enough to do anything more than just please the other. you liked it this way and so did danny. you enjoyed it, but deep down you couldn’t help but wish it was someone else. all those years you spent desperately craving a relationship now put you in a place where you didn’t care. you were young — you had to try new things — and maybe even so sleeping with a driver on a rival team would point you in the right direction.

days had went on and you found yourself once again at daniel’s house. this time he had invited you over to hangout with a few of his friends, have some drinks, and get to know each other. he swore they would like you and you used this as a way to get out of the house and meet new people. it was a bit awkward. all the others surrounded around the living area knew each other and their life stories, but you sat there out of place begging for an escape. daniel had disappeared for a bit before he resurfaced in a corner chatting up a group of guys who’s name you couldn’t remember. it didn’t matter to you though, he was enjoying himself so you simply took time to relax. a notification appeared on your phone, another text from lando, with one simple request.

lalando

➔ do you to go out for drinks tonight?

you

again IM SORRY im busy right now,

but i owe you

lalando

➔ busy doing what? daniel?

you

SHUT UP and no actually

not like i was doing him in the first place

lalando

➔ sure sure ok, lie to my face

you

geez ok, calm down lan

come over tomorrow for lunch

lalando

➔ fine, i’ll see you then

seen at 9:34pm

lando’s seemingly jealous manner had you laughing to yourself when your brain started to drift somewhere maybe it shouldn’t. you had known lando since the beginning of your career. you remember the day you full body bumped into him in the paddock, resulting in you two having a laughing fit. something from there told you that you would be good friends, but you couldn’t grasp if thats what it really was. you recalled all that you had done together: going out for dinner, having movie nights, talking about everything imaginable together. it made you question if what you had with lando was far from casual. he was your friend, but you knew friends didn’t long for each others company as he longed for yours.

pouring the sauce onto the noodles, you slid over a bowl of homemade alfredo pasta over to lando, handing him a fork to go along with it. “i feel like i’m just your personal chef now.” you spoke sarcastically, pouring a small bowl for yourself before grabbing a fork. “you would be if your cooking was better.” lando spoke plainly, shoving a bit of pasta into his mouth. “hey! that’s mean! why are you so sour, huh?” you scoffed, not thinking much of it as lando was always this sarcastic with you. “the only thing that’s sour are these noodles.” he spoke, taking yet another bite which had you staring blankly at him. “i’m obviously joking! cmon, you know i wouldn’t eat it if it was bad. you’re the best cook i know.” lando smiled over in your direction, making you sigh a little. “geez — you got me with that one. was starting to think you hated me, mr norris.” you spoke, trailing over to the bowl before picking it up and making your way over to the couch. like a sad puppy, lando grabbed his bowl and followed over, sitting himself right next to you. “i could never hate you!” “oh suuuuure—“ you laughed, placing the bowl onto the coffee table before grabbing the remote. you and lando did this several times a week. you’d order takeaway or make food, put on a tv show the two of you had been binging, and then get distracted by some irrelevant conversation between you too. it was like a cool down time from your hectic lives — some calm in the middle of a storm.

“i don’t even remember what’s happening—“ lando said mid chew, placing the empty bowl onto the coffee table. you gave him a disgusted look, one that read ‘chew before you speak’, before you responded, “it’s because last time we got distracted talking about cats.” “ok well — come here. this time we can pay attention.” lando spoke, opening his arms for you to lay into them. this sucked you back into your prior thoughts. your small hangouts — dates even — had turned into something more than they were before. “doubt that.” you muttered, letting yourself lay your head onto his lap even though you knew the consequences. you leaned your head to the side, attentively watching the show as lando chimed in every now and then to give his two-cents about what was happening. you two shared some laughs and conversations about the shows plot, but nothing off topic to get you two distracted from watching.

the last episode of season two was now coming to an end and you watched attentively to each event that occurred. you were only snapped out of your fixated reality once you noticed landos gaze had went from the tv to you. when your eyes met, you didn’t expect anything from lando until he spoke. “so what were you doing with danny last night?” he questioned, making you roll your eyes. “what happened to paying attention to the show?” you asked, dismissive of the conversation. “what did you two do? watch a movie? sleep with him?” lando spoke, completely ignoring what you had said. it made you a little upset, even though you knew he was most likely just teasing you. the tone in his voice was off, being more plain than sarcastic. “why do you care so much?” you asked, the conversation now merely banter between you two. “i don’t care — i just want to know!” lando was lying through his teeth now and you could tell. the way he delivered his words, the way he looked at you; he obviously just “didn’t care”.

“are you jealous?” the words feel from your lips so carelessly, so sharply. you didn’t know what overcame you, but something about lando being so nosey to your endeavors made you irritated. “i’m not jealous.” his words were plain and you had now sat up from your once laid down position to face him. words couldn’t form in your mouth. you didn’t know if you wanted to squeeze a confession out of him or make him speak for himself. “are you sure?” it was sort of a teasing manner that fell from your words, egging at him to speak a truth you weren’t sure you wanted to hear. “god—“ lando shot up from his seated position, making you jump back a little and look at him in confusion. “i am jealous, i am sooo fucking jealous.” his voice was louder now, loud enough for the neighbors to hear, his confession making fear grow in your friendship. “you’re all over him — always. you act all sweet and nice to me, you let me hold you — and then you fuck him. i don’t know what’s so different between him and i. i can be all the things he can be too!” “lando—“ you could barely mutter out words before he started again, his face slightly red as he spoke. “i don’t fucking care. you’re supposed to be mine.” his words stung, your lips holding back a gasp from escaping. you didnt know what to say, words not seeming to muster up from your mind. “you know what — i’ll leave. just go hangout with daniel. you’ve gotten good at that.” lando tried to leave, his hands clasping the doorknob to your apartment before you stood up. “i try to deny it, but i can’t anymore.” your words seem to catch his attention, his hand coming off the door and back to his side. “i tried to find another explanation for why i feel so safe with you; for why i always want to see you. i just plucked it up to you being my best friend, lando, but it’s not that. it’s not that anymore.” the words fell from your lips as if they were the last words you would ever say. you didn’t know what you were saying, all you knew is that you meant every word.

“you’re not making any sense.” lando spoke. he looked defeated, exhausted, like he was itching to get out of his skin. “i’m saying that i’m falling in love you with.” you didn’t tell lando what he wanted to hear, you told him what you wanted to say. a feeling of insecurity having nagged at you for a long time had finally become too much to handle; too hard to admit. you knew in your industry and position that you probably shouldn’t be saying these things; you knew you should have gotten out of the water before it got too deep — yet something about lando was like an anchor that had you sinking.

there was a long pause before any other words were said. it could have been a few seconds or a few minutes, you didn’t know. the quick pace of your heart beating had time moving so slow. lando approached you, now close enough to feel his shallowed breathing on your skin. “i’m sorry—“ it’s like he broke down, his voice brittle and hoarse. all you wanted to do was comfort him, but now the confident words that you had spoken so passionately couldn’t come out. “no, lan, it’s okay—“ you pulled him into a hug, resting your head into the crook of his neck as he seemingly cried. “i just couldn’t stand seeing him with you like that — i should have told you sooner. i shouldnt have yelled at you. i just don’t like the idea that he got to you hold like i do. i shouldn’t even be jealous, you aren’t even mine.” his arms wrapped loosely around your waist as he pulled back, red eyes with tears threatening to spill. “i know, i know — but it’s all okay now because i like you. i was too blind to see that what i had been looking for was right here the whole time. i feel stupid, but it’s okay, it’s what makes us human.” you tried to smile, it was what was needed at a time like this, and lando did his best to return it.

what was once a rival, a friend, a shoulder to cry on; anything but a lover, had now blossomed into something you had fought for so long. the pain of searching in every nook and cranny had now met you face to face with the hidden treasure you tried so hard to look for. “i love you—“ it was the mutter in the silence, the dark in the light, and you couldn’t help but feel like you found what you were looking for.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Getting caught while checking Sanemi out

„Well…y’know…I…“

Fuck. You stumble over your own words like an idiot. But that view…Your eyes are literally glued to his exposed chest, how his muscle strands move with each and every minor movement of his arms. Of course, entering the elite troop of the demon slayer corps meant surrounding yourself with fit people. After all, it’s a fact that they are very disciplined, training day in and out just like you did those past months.

But the sight of the wind hashira sitting in front of you, his exposed chest so well-lit by the moonlight while his arm rests on his lap so casually. Fuck, this man is way too attractive.

“Stop staring at me like that, idiot”, the wind hashira barks at you.

Fuck. You feel your cheeks heating up in an instant, eyes now focused on the dirt underneath your feet. If there’s one thing that’s worse than staring at someone so shamelessly, it’s getting caught by that exact person. Damn, you’re a grown woman, you’ve seen countless men when fighting for the demon slayer corps. Why did you get so distracted by him?

“I-I’m so s-sorry”, you stutter like the idiot you are.

“I-I didn’t m-mean to-“

“She was just checking you out”, the serpent hashira interferes with his voice dripping in boredom.

“Why would you check me out, brat?”

“I-I didn’t mean to!”

“Get lost now…”, Sanemi mumbles while turning his back on you.

“Oh…yeah…I-I should get going.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. In the matter of seconds you’re gone in the wind with only your scent remaining in the air as a proof of your existence.

“What do you think about (y/n)? I heard she’s quite a good combat fighter”, Obanai comments dryly while staring into the woods.

Urgh. Sanemi hates to even think about the way you made fighting look so effortlessly and how perfect your hair frames your gorgeous face. Always watching you from afar, not even daring to show himself to your eyes. Did you really just check him out just because of his loose-fitting uniform? There’s no way you’d actually choose him out of all people. Haven’t you seen Tengen, Gyomei, even Giyu? Compared to them, he’s definitely nothing special.

And maybe even a little mean.

“So what? She’ll die like the others.”

“Irritated because she was checking you out?”

“Stop talking bullshit, she wasn’t even looking my way”, Sanemi barks at the man sitting next to him in an instant.

“Why are you blushing, then?”

Him, blushing? Out of instinct, Sanemi smacks his already hot cheek. Why the hell does he feel so hot now? Just because you looked his way? Just because your eyes darkened when you gazed at his chest, leaving you so flustered that he didn’t know how to act?

Fuck. Just thinking about the way you blushed and tried to stutter your way out while looking at him with doe eyes…

“I’m literally seeing you fall.”

“You start sounding like Kanroji-“

“Don’t dare to drag her into this”, Obanai hisses through gritted teeth.

[readychilledwine]

Okay, I have a request for you that is no pressure, but Reader enjoys praise loves when she is being acknowledged for doing good and being good but doesn't know how to accept but their lover(and I have no idea would best fit this. My heart says Cassian, but realistically, it's probably Az or Eris) talks them through it shows them they don't need to be flustered.

Please ignore if this makes no sense

Self Worth

Summary - Cassian can't stand seeing you so low

Warnings - insecure reader, praise, mentions of mental health slipping

A/N - just a little baby fic of how Cassian would handle his mate needing her self-esteem and self worth built up 💕

✨️Cassian Masterlist✨️General Masterlist✨️

"Look me in my eyes and tell me the female I love isn't good enough again," Cassian was being as gentle as he could. You were shying away from him, eager for his praise, but instantly falling into that shell the second he gave it. "Look me in my eyes and tell me why the female I love cannot look at me after I tell her how beautiful she is today."

"I-" The words died on your tongue. No excuse you could find would appease him. No excuse would make him forgive you for whispering to him that you weren't enough. Weren't brave enough, pretty enough, strong enough. You saw the way he admired Nesta and Feyre. The way he admired Mor.

You didn't see the way he looked at you, though. He looked at you as if you had made the very world, as if you had forged him to be exactly how you needed him to be. You pushed him yo be that male, pushed him to be better. To be good. You made Cassian see the beauty in the world, the beauty in others. Perhaps that is why it hurt him that you could not see the beauty in you.

"I just never feel like I'm doing enough. Like there's no way you want me, want my body, want me to be-"

"Stop," he interrupted you immediately. He hid the break in his voice so well, hid how just a few words instantly shattered his heart. "You're struggling again, aren't you angel?" His eyes studied you hard as you nodded silently. "Y/n, you've been working so hard for Rhys, being the perfect emissary. You single handedly started the process of him and Tamlin creating a trade route, of him and Dawn beginning a joint training program between the Peregryn and Illyrians. Angel, you are doing so well and working so hard."

Your chest started to feel heavy, breathing becoming rapid, and Cassian instantly put his hands on your upper arms. He began to exaggerate his breathing, forcing you to follow it and calm down. "You are beautiful, you are special, you are kind. You are my mate, Y/n. You will never have to worry about competition or me not loving a single inch of you. I am proud to be yours. Proud you wanted me."

You looked up at Cassian, eyes lined in tears, "Really? You don't wish I was a.. a fighter?"

He laughed softly, "If you could fight, why would you need me? My job is to protect you. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Even if that means protecting you from yourself." He leaned in and kissed your forehead. "You are beautiful. Say it for me."

"I-" You paused, taking a deep breath. "I am beautiful."

Cassian's smile grew, "Good job, angel. Tell me five things you love about you."

You bit your lip thinking, "My eyes," he groaned in pleasure at that answer. "My humor," he whispered yes softly. "My butt-"

"Fuck yes your ass," Cassian turned you quickly to smack it before turning you around. "Continue."

You giggled at him, "My kindness," he shut his eyes smiling. "And... I think.."

"No. Not think. You know you love this last thing. Tell me again," he demanded.

You nodded more confidently, "I love my smile." Cassian held your face in his hands again. "Because when I smile, you smile, then I smile more."

"Seeing you glowing and happy makes me happy," he said. "Every day we do 5 things you love about you, then I'm going to spend the day praising them until that self Worth gets back up again, okay angel?"

"Okay, Cassie."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [2]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 10.3k 🤡

Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"I still can't believe you actually said yes to him. What happened to love being a luxury for us, hm?" Subin teased, not letting you off the hook since she found out about the military strategist's bold invitation. That was surprising enough, but nothing shocked her more than your acceptance.

You sighed, tightening the bow of your hanbok before heading to the full-length mirror in your room to check your hair. "Oh, stop it. You know this is nothing more than a way to demonstrate our teamwork. Officer Song is a colleague, and we are simply taking the chance to network and show support for the union with Ruhon."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, you keep telling yourself that, unnie."

You truly didn’t want to think much of it.

You were already planning to attend the banquet anyway, with or without Mingi's invitation. As one of the more senior and recognised royal physicians in the palace, your attendance at these events was mostly expected. While his attempts to spend time with you hadn't gone unnoticed, you treated them as nothing but friendly gestures.

As you finished adjusting your hanbok, you resolved to keep things strictly professional. Whatever he thought might happen, you would make it clear that you were unavailable. You would convince him to give up, knowing his efforts would only be in vain.

Right, let's get this over with.

The evening of the banquet arrived, and the palace buzzed with activity. Lanterns illuminated the courtyards, and the air was filled with music and laughter. Excitement filled you as you stepped out of the female physicians' quarters to find the tall and dashing military strategist already waiting. He wore a grand hanbok, a stark contrast to his usual training clothes. His hair was slicked back, and his hands were clasped behind his back as he paced, eyes fixed on the ground.

You took a deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat. After all, you were only human, and this was a stunning man before you. But you had to remind yourself that nothing was ever going to happen between you two and that you had only agreed to attend the event with him as a gesture of camaraderie.

Nothing more, nothing less.

After composing yourself, you cleared your throat and called out, "Officer Song, you really didn't have to come all the way here. I could have just met you at the grand hall along with everyone else."

Mingi perked up, his heart thundering at the sound of your voice. When he turned to face you, his breath momentarily caught at the sight of you so dressed up. You were always beautiful to him, but tonight, you were even more enchanting.

He bowed slightly and stepped closer. "You look… perfect, my lady."

You blinked rapidly, hoping the blush you felt wasn’t obvious on your face. He continued, "Of course, I had to come here. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t? More importantly, you're not just anyone else to me, Royal Physician Ahn. You're my—"

Not wanting to hear the rest, you flashed a large, courteous smile. "Ah, we should probably head over if we don't want to be late. Let us go, Officer Song," you said, cutting him off. His smile faltered slightly before he nodded. "R-right, let us."

Throughout the night, the military strategist remained faithfully by your side. Unfortunately, his attentive gestures did not go unnoticed by those around you, leaving you flustered and repeatedly clarifying that you were merely colleagues.

"Really, Royal Physician Ahn? That's a shame, you two would make a beautiful couple," teased Lady Park. You sputtered, choking on your drink. She panicked and reached over to pat you on the back, glancing at a very concerned Mingi who was conversing with the general. With a reassuring smile, she mouthed, "I'll take care of her."

Officer Song resisted rolling his eyes as Seonghwa smiled dreamily at his adorable wife, not realising he was just as guilty of it—if only he knew he looked the same whenever you were around.

"I-I'm fine. Thank you, Lady Park. But I assure you, nothing can happen between us. It is forbidden; I am a woman of the palace."

The pregnant woman grinned in response. "So, are you saying that if you weren't a palace woman, you definitely would have given General Officer Song a chance?"

You sighed, offering her a half-hearted smile. "There's no use pondering that, my lady. It's impossible," you whispered the last part.

She softened, touching your shoulder gently. "Nothing is impossible if only you desire it hard enough, my dear."

Your heart warmed at her words, but you knew better than to believe them. With an appreciative nod, you gestured to her baby bump. "So, how has pregnancy been treating you, my lady?" you asked, steering the conversation away from dangerous territory. You were afraid of temptations and could not afford to give in to any of them.

The conversation with Lady Park was cut short when a certain fourth prince appeared behind her, hesitantly taking an uncertain step forward. You blinked, trying not to stare too obviously, but she noticed your eyes shifting toward something over her shoulder.

With furrowed brows, she wondered aloud, "Just what are you looking at, Royal Physician Ahn?" She turned and froze upon locking eyes with Prince Yeosang. As she moved to bow, he hurriedly reached out to stop her, gently holding her by her forearms.

"It's been a while, my lady. Would you… care to catch up?" he asked.

She bit her lip, turning to meet her husband's warm gaze. Seonghwa nodded, signalling that the decision was up to her, and she excused herself to speak with her friend. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the prince's one-sided feelings for Lady Park persisted. Everyone in Joseon had heard of His Highness' not-so-subtle advances back then. The gossip at that time was quite juicy, but it was good to see him accepting defeat gracefully. The once bratty fourth prince had disappeared; it seemed the general's wife truly had a strong hold on his heart, changing him for the better even with her firm rejection.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your chaperone reappeared by your side. You weren't sure how to feel around the gentle giant. His presence was both comforting and unnerving.

"Everything alright?" Mingi asked softly, concern evident in his eyes.

"Yes, everything is fine," you replied, smiling up at him. "Just a bit of palace drama."

He chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Palace drama indeed. Shall we continue to mingle, or would you like to take a break?"

You appreciated his attentiveness, but the whirlwind of emotions from the evening had left you feeling somewhat drained. "A break sounds nice," you admitted.

Mingi beckoned for you to follow and you did, allowing him to lead you to a quieter corner of the grand hall. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. The evening was proving to be far more eventful than you had anticipated, and you knew you had to stay vigilant against his allurements that seemed to be lurking at every turn.

As you both reached a more secluded area, he quickly said, "Wait here, I'll get you something to drink."

You sighed, reaching for his arm. "You don't have to do that, Officer Song. I don't want anyone to misunderstand. I've been meaning to tell you: there's nothing between us, and there never will be."

He paused, turning to face you properly. You looked away almost immediately, guilt gnawing at you as you caught a glimpse of the hurt reflected in his eyes. A heavy silence settled between you, each struggling to collect your thoughts.

Mingi knew winning your heart wouldn't be easy, but the early rejection still stung deeply. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but steady. "I understand your concerns, truly. But my intentions are genuine. I'm sorry if I've caused you any discomfort or misunderstanding. I just want you to know how much I care."

You bit your lip, the sincerity in his words making it even harder. "I appreciate your honesty, but I have my duties and responsibilities. My life is here in the palace, and I can't afford distractions."

He nodded slowly, taking a step back to give you space. "I respect your dedication. I just… before I let you go, there's one thing I need to know. We've actually met each other years ago. Did you… did you remember me when you saw me again?"

Your expression remained unreadable as you mustered a response. After what felt like an eternity, with the military strategist standing with bated breath and his heart pounding in his ears, you finally met his eyes and softly said, "No, I'm afraid don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry, Officer Song…"

His heart sank. "Oh."

The weight of his disappointment hung in the air. He took a step back, struggling to mask the hurt that flashed across his face. He had held onto the hope that perhaps, even faintly, you had remembered him. That tiny hope had been a beacon for him, a justification for his persistence. But now, it seemed all for naught.

What if His Majesty had been right?

"That's… that's okay," he finally said, forcing a weak smile. "I must have been mistaken."

You nodded, the guilt intensifying as you watched him grapple with his emotions. "I'm really sorry. Perhaps you have."

Except that was a complete lie.

You remembered. In truth, you had never forgotten. How could you? To have seen Song Mingi in person was to understand that he wasn't someone easy to forget, even when pale and sickly on his deathbed. He was undeniably gorgeous. Beyond his appearance and physique, his warm gaze, soft touch, and sweet words lingered in your memory, impossible to leave behind.

You'd recognised him since day one.

It took everything in you to maintain a composed façade and steady your racing heart as you locked eyes with the military strategist for the first time in years. Before you stood a man, well and strong, embodying everything you had ever wanted.

But you had to quell your desires, silence your dreams, and dismiss any thoughts of the impossible. Years had passed, and you had assumed he was married by now. Later, you discovered he wasn't.

Yet, it changed nothing.

You were now a palace woman, and that sealed the hopelessness of your situation. So you chose to pretend, to feign ignorance of your shared past. It was for the best—for him and for you.

Sometimes, you wondered if you were trying to convince him or yourself more. It was the very reason you dreaded seeing him; not out of dislike or annoyance, but because you were just as captivated by him as he was by you. Had you been an ordinary physician outside the palace walls, you would have accepted his love in a heartbeat.

But things were different now.

Rules were rules.

You and General Officer Song were a beautiful impossibility, and you had to do everything to keep it that way.

Yet, his constant presence was a quiet storm, eroding your resolve. Every gentle gesture, each attempt to show he could protect and cherish you, made it increasingly difficult. His persistence, so tender and genuine, weakened your defences, and you were frightened—terrified, even—of the feelings blooming within you.

Why must he be so cruel?

His kindness, his sincerity, his unwavering dedication—they all tugged at your heartstrings, weakening your defenses. Every time he appeared with that soft smile, every time he looked at you with those earnest eyes, it became increasingly difficult to remember why you had to keep him at arm's length.

And tonight, standing in the secluded corner of the grand hall, facing the man you had spent years trying to forget, you felt your carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. The reality of your situation pressed heavily on you, a constant reminder of the boundaries that could not be crossed.

Song Mingi, with his genuine concern and quiet strength, embodied everything you had ever wanted but could never have. His mere presence was a cruel reminder of what could have been in another life, another world. A world where you were free to love him without consequence.

But you weren't in that world. You were here, bound by duty and rules that were impossible to break. So you swallowed your feelings, pushed down the burgeoning hope, and forced yourself to remember the impossible nature of your situation.

Because letting yourself love him—truly, deeply love him—would only lead to heartache for you both. And you couldn't bear the thought of causing him any more pain than you already have.

You sighed, swallowing the lump forming in your throat as you gazed up at him solemnly. "I, uh… I'm feeling rather tired. I shall retire to my quarters for the night. Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Officer Song. It truly is a joy to befriend Lady Park. It's also wonderful to finally see Joseon and Ruhon getting along well. It seems like things are really looking up for us."

But they weren't.

Both of you thought it, but neither dared to say it aloud.

You smiled courteously, bowing respectfully. "Goodnight, Officer Song. I hope you enjoy the rest of the banquet with your friends."

Just as you turned to leave, he reached out an arm to stop you, though not touching you. Damn it. Damn him and his gentlemanly gestures. "Wait, my lady. Please allow me to escort you back—"

You bowed again, cutting him off, afraid to hear the rest of it. "Please enjoy the rest of the banquet."

With that, you left, leaving behind a strong man staring longingly after you like a lovesick puppy. You didn't have the courage to spare a final glance at him, knowing another look at his pleading eyes would make you give in, and you couldn't have that. Not now. Not ever. You needed to put an end to this.

As you walked away, your heart ached with every step. The distance between you and Mingi grew, but the weight of your emotions only became heavier. The grand hall's festive atmosphere faded into the background as you focused on maintaining your resolve.

Arriving back at the female physician's quarters, you couldn't summon the energy to put on yet another fake smile for Subin. Your friend waited excitedly for you by the entrance, but her beam faltered as she registered the expression on your face.

"You told him to stop, didn't you?" she asked softly, reaching over to grab your hand.

You nodded wordlessly, too weary to say anything more. Subin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you into your room, murmuring, "It'll be okay… I'm here."

You broke into a tiny smile, leaning into her hold appreciatively. Her warmth and understanding were a balm to your frayed nerves. As you settled into the familiar comfort of your quarters, the weight of the evening began to lift, if only slightly.

Subin's presence was a reminder that you weren't alone, even in your struggle to keep your feelings at bay. She helped you sit down, then knelt beside you, her eyes filled with concern and compassion.

"I know it's hard," she said gently, "but you're strong. You did what you had to do."

You sighed, closing your eyes as you leaned back against the wall. "I just... I can't believe I'm saying this, but I just wish things were different, you know?"

She nodded, squeezing your hand. "I know, unnie. But remember, you're not alone in this. We'll get through it together. Besides, you said it yourself: we have each other, and we have our duty. That's enough. It has to be."

Her words, though simple, offered a small measure of solace. You knew the path ahead would be challenging and that things with the military strategist would never be the same again, but with her by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope.

"Trust me, you'll get over it in no time."

God, I sure hope so.

Meanwhile, Mingi did his best to keep it together for the rest of the event. After all, you had told him to enjoy it with his friends, so he did—or at least he tried his hardest. Feigning a huge grin, he returned to General Park and Royal Secretary Choi's side, casually mentioning that you had retired early. He didn’t want to burden them with his love troubles; the last thing he wanted was their pity. He didn't need to feel any worse than he already did.

Despite having braced himself for the possibility of hearing those words, the pain of your rejection cut deep. "There's nothing between us, and there never will be." Those words echoed in his mind like a broken record as he lay in bed that night, unable to find solace in sleep. He was caught between the urge to fight harder for you and the need to honour your wishes.

Yet, he couldn't shake the image of your face when he asked if you remembered him. The fleeting look of conflict troubled him deeply. Why did you seem so torn? Why did you hesitate? Could you have been lying? If so, why hide the truth? He needed answers. Whether or not you would ever be his, he needed to know them.

Mingi resolved to seek those answers, slowly and carefully. In the process, he hoped to soften your seemingly hardened heart, guarded by steel walls that showed cracks despite your efforts to conceal them. He might have been a fool most of the time, but his attentiveness had never been keener than now. All for you. Because he believed fate must have brought you back into his life for a reason.

"You good, hyung?" Junghoon asked, feeling his mentor shift on the bed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night.

The older man nodded despite the internal turmoil within him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go to sleep already, young man."

"I'm trying... if only you'd stop moving."

Heaving a sigh, Mingi turned to face his apprentice. "Hey, what do you think it means when a woman tells you to stop pursuing her but looks really sad while saying it?"

The younger man rolled his eyes. There goes my sleep, he thought as he pushed himself up into a seated position, legs folded and hands intertwined. "Alright, sit your dumbass up. Time for Love Lessons for Dummies 101."

"Are you sure this is going to work? She's not—" Mingi's words were cut off by his apprentice, who mocked him with air quotes. "'Not like other girls.' Yeah, yeah, I know. That's what every man says about his crush. Trust me, women are all the same. Nothing melts their hearts more than an attentive and caring man. Now go before she's already out for her lunch break."

Junghoon had finally convinced his mentor to see his dream girl after avoiding the royal medical hall for nearly a week, giving you the space you needed. But Mingi knew that to win your heart, he couldn’t stay away. He'd have to approach gently and slowly.

With a handmade lunchbox in hand, the military strategist's first mission was to show you he wasn’t bound by gender norms, relegating kitchen tasks only to women. He wanted to demonstrate what having a husband like him would be like. If you wished, he could drop by each day with lunch prepared just for you.

His heart pounded with anticipation when he arrived at the medical hall for the first time in what felt like forever. He had missed you like crazy, each day without seeing you dragging on like a year. As he stepped inside and approached the counter, confusion set in when you were nowhere in sight. Could you have gone out with the first batch of royal physicians for your lunch break? That was odd; you always preferred the second batch.

"Good day, Officer Song. Are you injured or feeling unwell?" one of your colleagues asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. Mingi blinked and cleared his throat. "N-no, I'm here for Royal Physician Ahn. Is she already out for lunch?"

Your colleague suppressed a knowing grin, pursing her lips before answering, "She's not. She hasn't been in for a few days now. She's been down with food poisoning ever since attending the royal banquet with you."

Mingi felt his heart sink.

He muttered a quick thanks and dashed out, his feet moving automatically towards the female physicians' quarters. Nothing else mattered; he needed to see you, to know you were okay, to apologise for not taking better care of you that night.

Meanwhile, you pressed your face into your pillow, curling into a ball and clutching the comforter around you as another stab of pain hit your stomach. The discomfort was unbearable, making it impossible to go to work today. Seeing your agony, the head of the royal physicians had allowed you a day or two to feel better before returning to the royal medical hall.

As the pain subsided and you slowly felt a wave of drowsiness enveloping you, an unusual rustle from outside alerted you. Someone was there. But who? Everyone else should be at work. Was it Subin coming to check on you? Your thoughts were interrupted when your breath hitched, realising a man's silhouette was standing by your room entrance through the paper walls.

What fool would dare come here, a place meant only for women? Not even eunuchs were allowed in, let alone a well-built man of his stature. Was it a prison escapee? Lord knows what he'd do if he found you alone. Before you could attempt to get up and go someplace safe, another sharp pain hit, and the wince you let out was inevitable. Unfortunately, the man heard you and immediately reached to pull the doors open.

As the door slid open, your heart raced, fear gripping you as you braced for the worst. But instead of a stranger, you saw Mingi's concerned face. His eyes widened in alarm as he rushed to your side.

"Physician Ahn, are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.

"O-Officer Song? What in the world are you doing here?" you managed to say between breaths, the pain still lingering.

"I heard you were sick. I had to make sure you were okay," he replied, his voice softening as he knelt beside your bed.

The concern in his eyes was genuine, and despite the awkwardness of the situation, a small part of you felt relieved. "You're not supposed to... you shouldn't be here," you whispered, the rules and propriety still at the forefront of your mind.

"I know, but I couldn't stay away," he said, gently placing a hand on your arm. "I'm here to make up for my mistake. I should have been more attentive. This is all my fault."

You frowned, pushing yourself up to a sitting position as the pain subsided again. "What do you mean by that? How is any of this your fault? This has nothing to do with you."

He sighed. "Nonsense. If only I’d been more attentive to what they served you at the banquet, you wouldn’t have been suffering from food poisoning this badly."

"F-food poisoning...? Who told you that?" you asked, already having a clue. He twiddled his fingers nervously. "One of your colleagues. I was at the medical hall earlier and you weren’t there. She told me you were sick, and I came here as fast as I could..."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you were exasperated at your friends’ mischievousness. They hadn’t let you live it down since learning you had gone to the royal banquet with the military strategist, though they didn’t know what had transpired between you two or how the night had ended. The teasing was one thing, but you didn’t think they’d actually go this far. But of course, they probably didn’t think this fool would actually come here himself instead of sending a court lady to check on you.

You sighed. "I don't have food poisoning… it's just that time of the month. You know, the women thing…" His eyes widened in horror, and his cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, muttering, "Gosh, why'd she lie about this?"

You pulled your comforter close as another cramp hit. "Listen, I'm not in the mood to talk right now. Besides, you really shouldn't be here. I appreciate you checking on me, but you should leave. We'd both be in huge trouble if someone saw you here."

He nodded quickly, gesturing to the bag he had brought with him. "Right, I-I'll leave immediately. These are for you, by the way. I made them myself. Please enjoy them when you're feeling hungry."

Usually, you would have melted at that, but you really needed him gone. "Yes, thank you."

As if the world had something against you, just as the military strategist neared the door, another familiar silhouette appeared at the entrance. "Are you feeling any better, my dear? I've come with some heat packs to soothe the cramps," the head of the royal physicians called out, her hands reaching for the door handle.

Mingi froze, and you panicked, all menstrual pain forgotten as you jumped out of bed and rushed towards him, exclaiming loudly, "I'm feeling much better, Head Physician Seo! Thank you for your concern. Would you give me a minute? I'm not properly dressed."

You sighed in relief when that worked like a charm as she removed her hand from the door handle and took a step back. "Oh, my apologies. Of course, let me know when you're ready."

Scanning the room in alarm, you hurried to the cabinet that usually held your mattress, pillows, and comforters when you weren't sleeping, now empty. "Get in here, quick!" you whispered urgently. He obeyed, moving as stealthily as he could to avoid making a sound and raising suspicion.

Oh god, can things get any worse today?

After shooting him a stern look and pressing your pointer finger against your lips to signal a firm 'be quiet,' you shut the cabinet doors and took a deep breath. Plastering on a huge smile, you opened the door for your superior, letting her in. She smiled warmly, handing you the heat packs she'd brought. "Is everything okay? I thought I heard someone in here earlier."

Your breath caught as you noticed Mingi's bag still by your bed. Quickly moving to conceal it with your hanbok, you feigned innocence. "Huh, really? That's weird. It's only me. I'm sure it's nothing."

She shrugged and nodded. "You're probably right. I guess all the lack of sleep must be getting to me. Well then, it’s good to see you doing better. I shall get back to work then."

You mustered a fake laugh. "That must be it, ma'am. Thank you so much for the heat packs. I really appreciate it."

She patted your cheeks softly. "Anything for my best physician. Hope to see you back at work tomorrow."

You nodded, waving goodbye as she left. As you shut the door, exhaustion overwhelmed you, and you sank to your knees. The cabinet doors creaked open as the tall man emerged, muttering, "Phew, that was close—"

As if jinxing it, your superior returned. "Oh yes, my dear!" she called through the door.

Rushing up to Mingi, you smacked a palm over his mouth to shut him up as you answered her, "Yes, ma'am?"

She chuckled. "I heard that General Officer Song of yours dropped by the medical hall earlier, seemingly with lunch prepared for you. Don't be so hard on him, hm? I know we’re not allowed to love, but he's a sweet guy. At least be a friend to him. We’re still allowed to have friends, you know? Please don’t deprive yourself of that right too."

You swallowed, meeting Mingi’s eyes as they softened at your pained expression. "I understand. Thank you, ma'am."

Finally, she left for good this time. Eyes locked with his, you pondered her words. Could you really be friends with this man? Just... friends? Perhaps that was all you could ever be.

In that moment of closeness, you became acutely aware of your position, your hand still covering his mouth, his hands gently supporting you on your back. The atmosphere crackled with tension until it was broken by the rumble of his stomach. Flustered, you withdrew, your heart racing.

What in the world just happened...?

With a nervous bite of your lip, you dared to break the silence. "You uhh... haven't eaten either, have you?"

He shook his head bashfully, his eyes reflecting a mix of embarrassment and longing. "No, I haven't."

Oh, to hell with it.

You gestured towards the lunch he had brought. "Join me then."

Things had obviously shifted between you since then, and it did not go unnoticed by those around you. General Officer Song started coming by the medical hall at least once a week, no longer pretending to have an injury but simply to share lunch with you.

As friends.

That was what you told your friends, colleagues and every other palace staff whenever they tried to tease you. Yes, friends. That was all there was to it. All you both were ever going to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Just friends. Good friends. That was all you would allow… all you were allowed, really.

But you were happy with it. You had to be. It wasn't something you had a say in.

This was your life.

Mingi's visits became an oddly comforting routine. Every week, he would show up with a handmade lunch, and you would sit together, talking and laughing. The bond between you grew stronger, and although you constantly reminded yourself that you were just friends, there was an undeniable warmth in your interactions.

One afternoon, after the military strategist had patiently waited for you to finish caring for a patient, the two of you shared lunch in a quiet corner of the medical hall. He looked at you with a soft, contemplative expression. "You know," he began, "the first time I saw you, I thought you were the most admirable woman to exist. I'm glad I wasn't wrong. You really are an angel sent by the heavens."

You felt a flutter in your chest but quickly suppressed it, grinning softly. "Am I really? You know I'm not the only female physician around. The others are just as admirable."

Yes, but they're not you.

He nodded, though his eyes held a depth of emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "I suppose you're right," he said gently.

Not wanting to dwell on the serious atmosphere, you playfully nudged him on the shoulder. "Of course I am. I'm always right. And I bet you were a complete crybaby the day we first met, wailing like a child as you received treatment."

He scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically and feigning offence. "I was not. I'll have you know I was the most courageous soldier on site that day."

Brave enough to ask you out.

"Sure you were," you mocked sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at him. Your heart warmed internally because he was right. You remembered how calm he was despite the pain he endured. But he could never know you remembered. Never. That would complicate things too much, and you didn't need that. Not now, not ever.

Things were perfect as they were.

Or were they?

Irked by your teasing, he swiftly reached out to snatch a piece of dumpling—your favourite—from your lunchbox and stuffed it into his mouth as revenge. You let out a surprised yelp, smacking him on the arm. "Wha—hey! That was my last piece! Give it back, Song Mingi!" Your laughter filled the space as you wrestled with him, his eyes disappearing into adorable slits as he hurriedly chewed on the dumpling, annoying you with it. He chortled, speaking through his mouth full, "Ha! That's what you get!"

The fun was abruptly cut short when the head of the royal physicians appeared at the doorway. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked, her tone light but curious.

You sputtered and shook your head, immediately pushing yourself off the tall man. "Absolutely not, ma'am. He was just about to leave. We're done eating," you said, glaring playfully at Mingi as he swallowed the last of your dumpling.

The military strategist bowed respectfully to the elderly woman, seizing the opportunity to escape your wrath. "I apologise for taking up so much of Royal Physician Ahn's time. I'll leave at once," he said.

She shook her head, smiling warmly. "Don't apologise. I'm not sure I've seen Physician Ahn this happy in a good while. Please stay for a bit more if you wish, Officer Song."

Both your cheeks grew warm at her words as Mingi scrambled to pack up his belongings and leave, clearly shy. "Thank you, ma'am, but I really shouldn't. Besides, I have training to attend as well."

With a final bow to you both, he was gone, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing from the sudden interruption and the unexpected compliment from your superior.

Head Physician Seo approached you, a knowing smile on her face. "You and General Officer Song seem really close. Are you sure there's nothing more going on?"

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "We're good friends. That's all."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, as long as you're happy. I'm glad you took my advice and allowed him in."

You nodded, reaffirming your own belief. "You were right, it's nice to have someone who genuinely understands and cares."

In the back of your mind, you couldn't ignore the ache of wanting something more, but you reminded yourself that this was your reality. And so, you continued to cherish the time spent with him, finding solace in the friendship that had blossomed between you.

As the weeks turned into months, the boundaries of your friendship were constantly tested. Every shared smile, every lingering glance, and every comforting touch made it harder to maintain the illusion. Deep down, you both knew what you had was special, even if you could never openly acknowledge it.

Despite the constraints, you found happiness in the moments you shared. Each lunch, each conversation, and each quiet moment of understanding reinforced the bond between you. The stolen glances when no one was looking, the way he would subtly take care of you, and the warmth that filled your heart when he was near—it all painted a picture of a love that couldn't be spoken.

In the silence of the night, when you lay awake thinking about him, you allowed yourself to dream of a different life. A life where societal expectations didn't dictate your choices, and you could be free to express your true feelings. But for now, those dreams remained just that—dreams.

You took comfort in the friendship that had become an integral part of your life. It was a bittersweet reality, but one you had come to accept. And in those precious moments you shared, you found a contentment that made the impossible feel almost within reach.

Meanwhile, Mingi found himself growing more hopeful with every step closer to you. Though it hurt to hear you remind everyone that what you shared was merely friendship, he was almost certain you returned his feelings. Yet, he didn’t want to make assumptions; he needed to hear it from you. He was prepared to wait a long time, even forever, as long as you continued to allow him to be near you. This closeness was already more than he had ever hoped for, and a part of him had accepted that this might be the way things were meant to be.

Being friends was better than nothing.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Junghoon smirked before letting out a whine as his mentor hit him on the back.

"Shut up, kid. What do you know about love anyway? Taking advice from you nearly got me and her in trouble," Mingi grumbled.

The apprentice rolled his eyes, rubbing his back. "Oh, please, don't act like it didn't help you get close to her. I dare you to say you didn’t enjoy having her pressed up against you that day, keeping your mouth shut with her hand, all alone in her room—"

Mingi slapped a hand over the younger man’s mouth, eyes wide and face burning with embarrassment. "If you don't shut your trap right now, I'll tell His Majesty you’d like to quit and join the eunuchs."

That was all it took to silence Junghoon.

Truthfully, the apprentice was right, being close to you had made Mingi greedy for your affections. He often wondered what it would be like to have you willingly run into his arms. But the military strategist knew that was probably as far as he would ever get. Friends were not meant to be any closer than that, and he had come to accept it. If only you would stop making things more difficult.

One day, a soldier was seriously injured during training due to faulty weapons, and the royal medical hall was notified. You appeared at the training grounds with Subin beside you not long after, slightly out of breath as your eyes searched hastily for something or… someone. When you didn’t find who you were looking for, you blurted out, "Where's Officer Song? Is he okay?"

The soldiers greeting you furrowed their brows in confusion. "Officer Song…? Yes, he's fine. It's not him who got injured. Did someone tell you that by mistake?"

You sputtered messily, flustered for giving yourself away, while your childhood friend suppressed her giggle beside you. "O-oh, no... I just... I assumed it was him since he gets injured nearly every week. Never mind that, please take us to the injured soldier."

"Yes, my lady. Come with me."

Quickly, you followed the man, eyes glued to his back, not wanting to catch any knowing glances thrown your way. Unbeknownst to you, Song Mingi was hidden by a stand and had heard everything, struggling to keep the smile off his face at your concern. Were you thinking about him just as much as he thought about you? Were you worried about him? Did you... feel the same?

He desperately wanted to hear it from you but dared not ask the questions, fearing the answers you'd give him—answers that he knew would never reflect your true feelings. He watched you tend to the injured soldier from a distance, the smile lingering on his face, feeling a warmth that hadn’t been there before. Though it stung to always be reminded that what you shared was nothing more than friendship, he clung to the moments when your actions betrayed your words, showing a deeper, unspoken bond.

For now, he would be content with this.

Until he couldn't.

He arrived at the medical hall the next day with lunchboxes in hand, ready to spend time with you as usual. Instead, he was met with the devastating news that you had been dispatched to a plague-ridden village to provide assistance. His heart fell, and his world crumbled.

"I don't understand. What do you mean she's gone, my King? She was just here yesterday."

"Forget her, Officer Song. I told you it's impossible to be with her," said the ruler, rubbing a hand on his temple. "She volunteered to go without hesitation. I think you have your answer loud and clear. And as much I hate to say this, we're not sure she will return from this trip. Most physicians going on such missions are like soldiers going to war; they risk their lives and could be gone for months or even years. You deserve someone who can stay by your side."

The King's words cut deep, but Mingi's mind was a whirlwind of worry and despair. The thought of you in danger, far away, made it hard for him to breathe. The idea of losing you, of not knowing if you were safe or if you would ever come back, was unbearable.

"Where is this village, Your Majesty?"

The elderly man sighed deeply, shaking his head. "What will it take for you to give up? You'll only end up in pain, as if you haven't already been in enough pain. She has denied all your attempts from the start. Why do you do this to yourself, hm?"

Officer Song clenched his fists, his voice trembling with emotion. "Because love isn't about possession. Love is unconditional. I don't care if she will never accept my love in this life; I will continue to be there for her, to protect and care for her as long as I am alive. I'll be damned if I let her face all that danger on her own. So, I'm asking again, Your Majesty, where exactly is this village?"

The desperation in his voice was palpable, the rawness of his love laid bare. He would do anything, go anywhere, to ensure your safety. For the military strategist, there was no greater purpose than being there for you, no matter the cost.

Meanwhile, you struggled to keep yourself together as you arrived at the terror-stricken village. The place had been overtaken by a sudden, rapidly spreading disease, claiming lives at a frightening pace. Violently woken in the middle of the night by Head Physician Seo, you joined the royal physicians gathered in the main hall to hear the grim news. Guri, the very village where you and Subin had lost everything, was now cursed with another wave of illness, intent on wiping out the population and destroying families again.

But you were stronger now.

You would rather die trying than let more innocent villagers endure what you did all those years ago. This time, you were capable of saving lives. Without a second thought, you and your friend volunteered to go. It wasn't until you were in the carriage that you remembered a certain Officer Song. Crestfallen, you realised that perhaps this was all for the best. Maybe, with your absence, he could finally move on and find someone with whom he could have a future, instead of being held back by you.

And you... you would be doing the very thing you had trained for all your life. There was no time to dwell on matters of the heart.

Forget him, lives are at stake.

As you arrived in Guri, the sight was both familiar and heartbreaking. The streets were eerily quiet, with only the occasional sound of distant weeping or the hollow coughs of the afflicted. You, Subin, and the rest of the royal physicians immediately set to work; assessing the situation and organising the sick villagers for treatment.

"Help my mother, please!"

"It hurts, make it stop!"

"I don't want to die yet... I'm scared."

Doing your best to calm the terrified villagers, your mind was a whirlwind of medical procedures and strategies to contain the spread. Every moment was a battle against time, a race to save as many lives as possible. But amidst the chaos, thoughts of Mingi lingered at the edge of your mind. His gummy smile, his stupidly cute laughter, the way his eyes lit up when he saw you—they all haunted you, a bittersweet reminder of what you had left behind.

Sometimes, it felt like those thoughts of him were the only thing keeping you going. Nearly a week had passed, and the situation had only slightly improved. With minimal sleep and just enough food to keep you alive, you worked tirelessly to tend to the sick. All the while, you wished you had a certain tall, handsome, and silly strategist to help lighten the constantly heavy atmosphere. At this point, you had lost count of the times you had imagined him by your side. The imagination could be so vivid, you were convinced you were hallucinating from the immense lack of rest.

"Need a hand, my lady?"

You froze, your actions of reaching for the top shelf of the makeshift clinic for some medicine halted at the familiar voice that had been haunting your well-being for the past week. Shit, were you hearing things now? Surely, it was the sleep deprivation acting up.

It can't be.

But then, you turned around, and there he was. General Officer Song, standing in the doorway, looking just as real and solid as ever. His eyes held a mix of concern and determination, and he was carrying a medical kit of his own.

"Mingi?" you whispered, almost afraid that speaking his name would shatter the illusion.

He stepped closer, a gentle smile on his face. "Yes, it's me. I'm here."

To his surprise, you were angry when you realised it was really him and not just a hallucination. "What… in the world are you doing here?" you questioned, your voice filled with frustration and disbelief.

His smile fell. "I came to help—"

You cut him off. "This isn't a joke, Song Mingi! This is serious. People are dying! You shouldn't be here just because you wish to keep pursuing me or anything stupid!"

His expression hardened with determination. "That's exactly why I'm here—because I can't lose you!"

You were left speechless, grappling with the rush of emotions at his sudden presence as well as his words. You felt conflicted, overwhelmed by the happiness that he was really here in the flesh, anger at his recklessness, fear for his survival, and frustration because you wanted so badly to run to him but knew you could not.

After what felt like an eternity, you sighed and tossed him a handkerchief. "Cover your nose and mouth with this at all times. Since you're here, make yourself useful. Get that bag of herbs and come with me. We have no time to waste."

As he opened his mouth to speak, you shot him a warning glare. "Save your breath. If you do not intend to work, please leave."

With a firm nod, he complied, grabbing the bag of herbs and following you into the chaos. Despite the tension, having him there added a strange sense of comfort and determination, and together, you continued to fight the disease that had plagued Guri.

The entire day passed by in a blur, just like the previous ones. There was not a moment of respite as you rushed around, with Mingi following you obediently, doing as he was told without question. Subin and your other colleagues raised surprised brows at his presence, but the situation left no room for teasing or questions.

At the end of the day, even when things had calmed down a little and most villagers were asleep, your work was far from done. You sat by the bed of a small child who was badly affected by the disease, your tired hands rinsing and wringing a towel repeatedly, wiping the sweat from his tiny head over and over to ensure his fever didn’t worsen. Mingi remained by your side, watching you care for the child.

Sensing your lethargic movements, he gently offered, "Here, let me do it." He reached out for the cloth, and you gave in, handing it to him. He took your spot, and you moved aside to make space for him on the bed, finally having the opportunity to take a good look at him since his arrival.

His face was etched with concern and determination, his usual playful demeanour replaced by a steadfast resolve. He worked with a quiet intensity, carefully tending to the child as if his life depended on it. The sight filled you with a mixture of emotions—gratitude, admiration, and a touch of sorrow.

"You shouldn't have come," you whispered, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "But... thank you."

He glanced at you, his eyes softening. "I had to. I couldn’t just stay behind knowing you were here, facing this alone."

You sighed, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I'm sorry for the harsh words I said. I was just... worried about you. I still am."

"And I was worried about you," he replied, his voice firm yet gentle. "We’re in this together now. We'll get through it."

Shaking your head, you squeezed your eyes shut. "It's not going to be easy. You don't understand… this, Mingi. This village was once my home. I was born here, and for the first few years of my life, I had a family. Until a plague, one similar to this one, broke out, taking my parents and siblings, leaving me with nothing," you explained, your voice breaking as you finally revealed your past.

He sat, shell-shocked, learning about your tragic history for the first time. He hadn’t known you had endured such a tough life, and it only strengthened his affection and admiration for you. You were even stronger than he had perceived.

"And that's why I was so afraid of seeing you here," you continued, your voice trembling. "Because I… I can't lose you too."

His breath hitched at your words, a moment of silence enveloping the room before he dared to cover your hand gently with his bigger one, whispering a soft, "Really?"

Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and nodded, avoiding his eyes. "Yes, because you're a good friend to me."

He chuckled, nodding in defeat. "Right, of course." He knew better than to expect anything more by now. He was just glad you no longer pushed him away.

That was all that mattered.

The following days settled into the same gruelling routine, but your shoulders undeniably felt lighter with Mingi's presence. His unwavering support and the arrival of the physicians who had raised you and Subin provided much-needed relief. Their presence brought a sense of comfort and familiarity.

On a slower day, the military strategist sat with one of the senior physicians, assisting with brewing medicine. Catching the tall man's eyes glued to your busy figure in the next room, Kyungsoo, who had been like an older brother to you, smiled and remarked, "Quite the workaholic, isn't she? Nothing can stop her from working. She's been that way for as long as we can all remember."

"She really is," Officer Song replied.

Through your mentors, he learned more about your childhood years. Kyungsoo shared stories of how hard you had worked and studied to get where you were, all to repay them for taking you in. Mingi now saw the depth of your dedication and the sacrifices you had made to become the renowned royal physician you are today.

As he watched you tirelessly care for the villagers, a realisation struck him. It might be selfish to want to tie you down in marriage just because he thought he loved you. If he truly loved you, he should let you do what you loved. You had fought so hard to achieve your dreams; how could he possibly take that away from you?

His heart ached as he finally understood the wisdom in His Majesty's words. Maybe you really were not meant to be, not in this life. Perhaps in the next, he thought to himself, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and sorrow.

For now, he would support you in the best way he could—by standing by your side, helping you save lives, and cherishing the moments you shared. Because that, he realised, was also a form of love.

You've won, my King. I yield.

You had somehow felt the distance Mingi seemed to be putting between you, no matter how minuscule. You were hyper-aware of him, always had been, so this change, despite how small and unnoticed by the rest, bothered you more than you cared to admit. Was he growing tired of this? Of you? Perhaps he was realising how impossible it was to reach you and was giving up.

And who could blame him, really?

He deserved to be free; free to love another, to love someone who could give him so much more, all the things you never could.

"Hey, everything okay?" Subin asked, noting how you had nearly disposed of a new bandage instead of a used one.

You snapped out of your thoughts, apologising for the mistake as you rubbed your eyes. "Oh, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

She sighed, squeezing your shoulder. "It's Officer Song, isn't it?"

You stilled. "Huh? I-I don't know what you're talking about—"

She rolled her eyes, cutting you off. "Save it, unnie. I'm tired of hiding it from you. He's already received permission from His Majesty to pursue you. That's why he's been so bold in his attempts. If you feel the same way about him, then please, for the love of god, stop putting yourself and him through this nonsense any longer."

Your heart pounded as her words sank in. "Permission from His Majesty?" you echoed, disbelief and confusion in your voice.

She nodded firmly. "Yes, my dear friend. He's been allowed to court you on one condition—only if you willingly agree to it. That’s why he’s here, risking his life. He’s doing it all for you. If you care about him even a fraction of how much he cares about you, you need to let him know. This back-and-forth is tearing both of you apart."

You swallowed hard, grappling with the revelation. It felt as if a door had opened, one you had convinced yourself was forever locked.

"But Subin-ah... what if he realises I'm not worth the effort?" you whispered, voicing your deepest fear.

Her eyes softened. "That's not for you to decide. Let him make his own choices. If he’s here, fighting for you, it means you are worth everything to him. Don’t push him away because of your own insecurities. Give him—give yourself—a chance."

Before you could process her words, chaos erupted as sudden screams filled the air, panicked villagers running in all directions. You rushed outside to see what was happening, your heart pounding in your chest. Amid the commotion, you finally caught on to someone yelling, "Fire! Fire! There's a fire in the kitchen!"

Gasping, you spotted billowing black smoke rising from a hut at the back, where the kitchen was situated. Turning to Subin with wide eyes, you began, "I-isn't that where—"

She nodded before you could finish, confirming your fears. "Officer Song and Kyungsoo oppa were brewing medicine!"

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards the kitchen, your mind racing. The heat and smoke intensified with each step closer. Villagers and fellow physicians frantically attempted to extinguish the flames with buckets of water, but the fire raged on.

"Kyungsoo oppa! Mingi-yah!" you shouted, your voice trembling with fear and urgency.

Amid the thick smoke, Kyungsoo stumbled out alone, coughing violently. You rushed to him, desperation gripping your heart. "O-oppa, where is he? Where's Song Mingi?!"

Pointing towards the kitchen, nearly engulfed in flames, the senior physician gasped, "That fool's still in there. He insists on saving the medicine. We need to get him out, now!"

Your heart pounded with dread. "I'll go!" But Kyungsoo grabbed your arm, panic in his eyes. "No, it's too dangerous—"

Ignoring his warning, you darted inside.

Your heart plummeted when you spotted Mingi foolishly attempting to salvage the pot of medicine. "Stop, you idiot! Leave it!" He froze at the sound of your voice, turning to see you. "What are you doing here? Get out, the place is falling apart!"

Rushing up to him, you desperately tugging on his arm. "Not without you!" Yielding to your urgency, he abandoned the medicine and turned to leave with you. But dread washed over him as he noticed the fragile beam above you, threatening to collapse at any moment. Time seemed to slow as he pushed you towards the exit just in time for the debris to crash down in front of him, trapping him inside.

Your cries echoed as you saw him trapped. "No!" He managed a weak smile, feeling the smoke filling his lungs. "I'm sorry, my lady." Tears streamed down your face as you screamed for help, men rushing to save him. Kyungsoo and Subin restrained you, their grip firm as you thrashed against their hold.

"It's okay, he'll be okay," they repeated, their assurances failing to ease the turmoil in your heart. When they finally emerged, carrying his unconscious body, relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced by a profound sense of guilt and regret.

God, you were such a fool. How could you have been so blind to his importance in your life? Why did you take him for granted, making him wait for so long?

"Wake up, Song Mingi! Please, listen to me," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "I remembered everything, okay? I never forgot about you, not for a single moment. I'm sorry for lying, for pushing you away. But I accept it now—I want to be with you. Please... don't leave me."

Amidst your sobs against his chest, you halted as you felt his hand tenderly stroking your head. Lifting your gaze to meet his, you found him smiling weakly down at you.

"Wow, I never thought I'd hear those words," he murmured softly.

"So, that's your secret, huh? Faking your own death to get the girl?" Junghoon quipped, wearing a mischievous grin. Mingi let out an exasperated sigh and playfully smacked the younger man on the back of the head. "Faked my death? I nearly died," he retorted.

Junghoon raised a sceptical brow. "Yes, but did you die though?"

"I swear to god, you rascal—" Mingi's fist hovered in the air threateningly until you appeared, hands on your hips.

"Excuse me, no violence is permitted in the medical hall. If you two want to settle this, take it to the training grounds," you scolded.

The military strategist turned to you with a pout, attempting to play innocent. "But, my angel, I brought you lunch."

You rolled your eyes. "Alright. What's Junghoonie doing here then?"

The apprentice eagerly showed you his sprained ankle. "I actually got hurt, noona. Unlike someone, I don't fake my injuries."

Before Mingi could retaliate, you quickly summoned a colleague to tend to Junghoon, then dragged your idiot away, much to his chagrin. "That's enough, you baby."

"Yes, I'm your baby."

A month had passed since the plague in the village was eradicated. It was after the fire, that you managed to find a quiet moment with Mingi and poured out your heart to him. To your surprise, he didn't immediately respond with joy.

"Are you sure this is what you truly want?" he had asked, his expression serious. "Because I could never ask you to choose me over your career if it's more important to you."

His words struck a chord deep within you, revealing the depth of his love and understanding. He wasn't seeking to possess you but to ensure your happiness, even if it meant letting you go.

In that moment, you realised that this man was worth loving, worth everything. He had waited patiently for years, only to ask you that question when he finally had you.

In response, you didn't need to speak. Your answer was a simple and direct kiss to his lips, conveying all your love, gratitude, and certainty in that one tender moment.

Upon your return from Guri, you promptly sought an audience with His Majesty. There, you expressed your desire to be with Mingi. Needless to say, the soft-hearted King who had been secretly rooting for you both did not take too long to agree.

Granting you the freedom to be courted by the military strategist, the King also bestowed his blessing for marriage, should you both deem it the right path. With a sense of relief, you exchanged grateful glances with your lover. It marked the beginning of a new chapter, brimming with hope and love, as you eagerly anticipated embarking on this journey together.

"I still can't believe you're meant to be the coolest and most renowned military strategist in all of Joseon. If only the people knew what an adorable little princess you could be," you chuckled, playfully feeding Mingi a spoonful of rice as he attempted to fashion you a new handkerchief, boasting about his newfound skills learned from his dressmaker friend.

"Oh wow, is that really how you thank your devoted future husband, who's putting all this effort into making something special for you?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with affection as he reached for another piece of cloth, determined to create something perfect for you.

You snickered mischievously. "Alright, princess, how about this? You handle the cooking and cleaning, and I'll be the queen of the castle, bringing home the gold. Deal?"

He stared at you, unamused. Leaning in, you stole a kiss from his lips, and in that moment, his resistance melted away. "Ugh fine, I suppose that doesn't sound too bad," he admitted with a playful sigh.

Anything for you, my angel.

You couldn't contain your laughter at his surrender, eagerly returning his affection as he leaned in for another kiss.

Sometimes, it's astonishing how, despite years of separation, no matter how distant you've become or how impossible it seemed to reunite, you always find each other again. It's as if your paths were meant to intersect once more, as though guided by the stars.

You were destined to find each other.

Lord, I did not plan for this to be so long. I'm so sorry this part took like a thousand years and I sincerely hope it was decent! I've managed to include all the details I came up with but am somehow not too happy with the delivery (then again, when am I not unsatisfied with my own work lmfao).

More importantly, I cannot believe I now have 2k followers😭 thank you all so much! I cannot wait to finish Jongho and Yeosang's spinoffs and then work on more new stuff!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[scuderiahoney]

Born To Run // i.

cowboy!max verstappen x reader // part i of ii.

Summary: Everyone, including Max, says he’s too much for you. You find yourself determined to prove them all wrong. Your summer on the ranch is set to be one to remember. 5.1k

warnings: sexual content (minors do not interact, 18+ PLEASE!), alcohol/ intoxication, strong use of language, implied unspecified age gap, public sex, oral sex fem receiving, and max is a little mean (oops). if you would like further clarifications on the warnings PLEASE send me a message!

title from Born To Run by Bruce Springsteen, but also from Springsteen by Eric Church, which references… Born To Run by Bruce Springsteen. for mood setting, see also: She Calls Me Back by Noah Kahan and You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton

One of your favorite parts of the summer is the first couple days after you get to your uncle’s ranch. You spend your summers there, helping tend to the gardens and some of the animals in exchange for a breath of fresh air, some time away from the city. You’re in college, now- your last official summer break before real adulthood kicks in- but you’ve been coming here since you were barely able to walk, sometimes with your parents, sometimes without. This year, it’ll just be you. It’s freedom, the way you like it best.

You first see him out in one of the pastures, on horseback, helping round up a wayward bunch of cows. He’s laughing, head flung back, sunlight dancing on his skin. He even sounds pretty, you think, leaning on the fence and watching. You’ve changed into a dress for dinner, your muddy clothes washed and hung out to dry. The cows are being difficult. He doesn’t seem to show even an ounce of frustration.

You’re startled when someone speaks from behind you- It’s Maddy, one of the long term ranch hands.

“Who’s that?” You ask, gesturing at the man.

Maddy whistles lowly and shakes her head. “Don’t even.”

“Don’t even what?” You ask, blinking back at her.

“Get started,” Maddy says, waving a hand dismissively. “You know the saying, too much horse? He’s too much cowboy for you.”

You pout, turning back to look at him. “He seems nice enough.”

He’s climbing off his horse, chatting with another one of the guys. Maddy blows out a breath through pursed lips, and you lean farther on the fence, resting your chin on your hands. The man takes his hat off and runs a hand through his sweat damp hair, and the sunlight glints off the blond strands. You sigh, and Maddy shakes her head.

“Serious, sweets. You don’t wanna go down that road. Max is…,” she sighs and never finishes the thought. Max. It’s a nice name, short and sweet. “Why’d you come out here, anyways?”

“Dinner’s ready,” you say in a dreamy tone.

Maddy groans happily, then whistles loudly, the sound making all the guys turn their heads. “Suppertime!”

You meet Max’s eyes from across the field. The sun is low in the sky, white fluffy clouds dotting the blue above your heads. He grins just a little wider when he looks at you, you swear. He tips his hat to you and then he nudges his horse, taking off across the pasture, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.

Every Friday, your aunt makes dinner for all the staff, with your help. You all sit down at tables in the backyard and fill up on home cooking and fresh food from the garden. They’re your favorite nights of the week. At dinner, you find that Max is sweet, just like you’d predicted. He says his please and thank yous, his sirs and ma’ams, he smiles kindly at everyone he talks to. He’s friendly, he takes his hat off before he sits down at the table, he’s a perfect gentleman. Maddy must be crazy. How could he ever be too much?

Ten minutes into dinner, you think maybe you know what she meant. You’ve ended up across the table from Max, a few seats down- completely on purpose, on your part. You want him to be able to see you. And he does- fork full of salad halfway to his mouth, he pauses, tilts his head at you, and smiles.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Max says, dropping the fork to reach his hand out across the linen tablecloths. “I’m Max Verstappen.”

You introduce yourself when he takes your hand in his. You see his eyebrows raise when he hears your last name- he’ll know you’re related to his boss, now, but he’d said his last name, so you’d felt the need to do the same. His hand is warm and calloused against yours, and your cheeks grow hot.

“You live here?” He asks.

You wiggle your hand side to side. “For the summer. I help out in the garden, do odd jobs around the ranch. Then in the fall it’s back to college.”

Max raises one brow, leans back in his chair, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Knew you were a city girl,” he says.

“Yeah?” You ask, playing along. “What gave it away?”

He shrugs. “You’re too soft,” he says.

It’s not really an insult, but for some reason, it sounds like one coming from him.

…..

You don’t see Max again for a while, except from a distance, you in the garden, him out in the pastures on horseback. The way he rides is enchanting, like he was born to do it, like a natural. Some people just have it in them, your uncle had said.

It rains for three days straight, and the creek at the back of the property floods like it always does. When the water goes down, Maddy invites you out to a bonfire with everyone on a Friday night, a rare week when they’ve been given a Saturday morning off. You agree eagerly, and you head down just after dinner. You’re greeted by the people who know you, the ones who’ve been coming here for years, who’ve seen you grow up. Someone hands you a bottle of alcohol- you don’t ask what it is before you take a pull. Someone whistles lowly. You turn, and find Max’s blue eyes, lit up by the fire.

“Got something to say?” You ask, hand on your hip.

He shrugs and grins. “No ma’am.”

You roll your eyes and walk away, taking the bottle of tequila with you. Down at the river, Maddy’s floating in the current. You decide she’s a better companion than Max and head for her instead. You pull your dress over your head to reveal your swimsuit, and you slip into the water, sighing at the feeling. The bottle of tequila is abandoned on the bank.

It’s a good night for this- just on the right side of too warm, the water just the right temperature. You take turns swinging off the rope swing, and you laugh and joke and bask in the last remaining sunlight. When the sun goes down, you join the circle around the fire, ending up next to Max completely on accident.

He leans close and nudges his thumb against your arm. “You know, for a city girl, you fit in well.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “I’ve been coming here my whole life. You’re the outsider here.”

He hums softly. When you glance at him, he’s smirking. It makes your blood boil, but worse than that, it makes you want to kiss the smirk right off his face. You hate how easily he seems to get under your skin. To try and drown it out, you reach for the bottle of tequila again.

By the end of the night, Maddy’s gone, and the only person who seems to even notice you’re still there is Max. When you nearly spill the remains of the bottle into the river, he dusts his hands off on his jeans, reaches for your wrist, and starts to walk away with you in tow.

“Time for bed,” Max says, gesturing at you.

You blink, trying to clear your vision, stars swirling above Max’s head as the two of you pop out of the woods and into the open field. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

“I’m taking you home,” he says, almost gently.

Taking you home. You like the sound of that. You think. If he means it how you hope. Maybe you could get it out of your system. Just one good fuck and you could stop watching him when you should be tending to the garden.

“Are you taking me home?” You ask. “Or taking me home?”

“What?” He asks, voice wavering. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what ‘m asking,” you say, voice slightly wobbly.

Max stops in his tracks, eyes wide, brows furrowed. He drops his grip on your wrist. You’re halfway back to the house, standing in the grass of one of the fields. You’re too drunk to care about being seen, or what’s in the grass- you just want Max to answer you.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he says, firmly. “If that’s what you’re asking.

You let out a whine and nearly stomp your foot, your whole body growing hot just at the words. “Why not?”

He’s looking at you with an unreadable expression. He’s still in his work clothes, button up shirt and faded jeans, hat still perched atop his head. You could reach up and take it off him, if you wanted, if he’d let you. Maybe undo a couple buttons on his shirt. You wonder if his skin would taste like salt, like the sweat you’d seen beading on his upper lip earlier in the day.

“Because you’re drunk,” he says, scratching at his jaw, stubble scraping under his fingers.

“So what?” You say, blinking up at him.

His face twists into a scowl. “So what, you’re drunk?”

You shrug. Behind him, you can see the house. The kitchen light is still on, the glow pulling you in like a moth to a flame. You hope your aunt and uncle are asleep. He takes a lurching step towards you, and you lose your breath when he cups your jaw in one hand, thumb brushing against your skin.

“I’m not fucking you while you’re drunk,” he says. “I don’t know where that came from or who said it to you, but you deserve better than that.”

“Okay,” you reply, suddenly entranced by his blue eyes, bright even in the low light of night.

He manages to herd you up to the house without laying another finger on you, which is a huge disappointment, honestly. He hangs back while you walk up the steps, staying out of the light. He’s worried about being caught with you. Something twists in your stomach at the implication, at what they would think. Nothing happened- it wouldn’t be worth the humiliation, really. But the sitting room is empty, and so is the kitchen. You’re safe, probably.

“G’night,” you call out softly over your shoulder.

When you turn to look, he’s already gone.

…..

There’s exactly one bar within a 30 mile radius of the ranch, and you know it well. It’s near and dear to your heart. Maddy yells at you from the wide open barn doors one night and invites you out with them, and of course, you say yes. You’re in need of a stiff drink, some loud music, and maybe a little bit of dancing.

She picks you up at the house in her truck. The only seat that’s left is the back passenger seat, the others taken up by other ranch hands. The wind whips through the open windows as she peels out of the driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust that you know will have your aunt clicking her tongue and rolling her eyes.

Maddy cranks the volume on the CD player. The first year she came to work here, the radio died, and she became reliant on CDs. Then the player stopped ejecting CDs, leaving her copy of Born In The USA trapped, doomed to spin and play through the half broken speakers forever and ever. Bruce Springsteen’s voice rings out over the rattle of the half broken bumper.

The bar is packed, as expected for a Saturday night. Ranch workers do long hours, longer weeks, but Sunday morning is always a time of rest, no matter how few of them bother going to church. Everyone’s here, from your uncle’s 72 year old neighbor Etta to the kid who works the cash register at the gas station. This is the place to be- the only place to be.

It means Max is here, too. It takes you a while to spot him, surprisingly- he blends in well, in his dark shirt, faded jeans, boots and cowboy hat, he looks like everyone else in this place, in this town, in this state. You’re two drinks in, another one in your hand, when you see him. He’s leaning against the bar, leaning close to some girl you’ve never seen before. She’s just his type, probably- long hair, dirt on her jeans, a real life all American girl. You hear his voice echoing in your head- city girl, too soft- and you take a swig of your drink. When you look back at him, he’s staring at you, smirking. You roll your eyes and turn away.

You have a good time, despite Max’s words bouncing around in your head, bringing with them a bit of a feeling of not belonging here. You mingle with the guys from the ranch that you already know, the ones who’ve been working there for years. You dance with one of them when he asks politely, accept a drink from another with a sweet smile, perch yourself on a stool and watch them play pool. You’re laying it on thick, because it’s fun, and because you can feel eyes on the back of your head. Max is watching from across the bar, even as that same girl hangs off his arm and grins up at him. You’re not sure what to make of it.

He doesn’t come near you, doesn’t speak a word in your direction. He just watches, like he’s lying in wait. It would piss you off if it didn’t turn you on so much. You wonder if he notices when you kiss one of the guys on the cheek after they win. You wonder if he sees the way you pull the top of your sundress down just a little bit. You wonder if he sees you pout at someone to buy you a drink, if that would work on him, if he’s checking you out the same way this other guy is.

He doesn’t come close until the end of the night, when they turn on the lights and you’re sure you smell like tequila and cheap beer. Maddy disappeared with a guy from another ranch and left you with her keys, but you’re definitely not fit to drive. You wobble a bit when you stand up from the barstool, and suddenly there’s a strong grip on your side, steadying you. You flinch and try to wrench yourself away.

“Don’ touch me,” you slur, twisting to face whoever it is. You come face to face with Max, and you scowl. “‘Specially you. Don’t you have manners, cowboy? Don’t touch a lady without permission.”

Max rolls his eyes and snatches the keys from your hand before you can blink. “Who the fuck was going to let you drive?”

“I wasn’t gonna drive,” you insist, scowl deepening. “Was gonna find someone to drive me. Give me the keys.”

He ignores you and starts to walk away. As he brushes past you, he reaches for your wrist and tugs gently. You follow, only because he has the keys and his grip is warm and you can feel his thumb pressing into your pulse point. Your breath hitches. He drags you out of the bar, and the cold air hits like a slap to the face, waking you up.

“Hey,” you snap, stopping and tugging your arm from his grip. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he says.

“What happened to the girl who was all over you?” You ask, too drunk to stop yourself. “She was giving you fuck me eyes, you know. You’re not gonna take her home?”

He scoffs and reaches for your arm again, and you tug it out of reach, crossing your arms over your chest. You know the motion pushes your tits together, and you see his eyes flicker down to sneak a peek. You grin. He rolls his eyes.

“No,” he says, jerking his head towards the parking lot. “Come on.”

“Did you already fuck her in the bathroom, is that why?”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “No.”

“You could take me home, you know-“ you start.

He fixes you with a stern glare that has your face heating up, your stomach churning. You’re coming on too strong. He doesn’t want you like that, and now you’re drunk and acting insane and- he’s just trying to make sure you get home safe. He thinks you’re some stupid city girl who can’t hold her liquor and was going to drive drunk, and you would never-

“I really wasn’t going to drive,” you say, and his face softens. “I would’ve slept in the truck if I had to.”

“I know,” he says softly. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You nod. “You’re good to drive?”

He nods. You let him take your hand this time, instead of grabbing your wrist, and you try not to get used to the feeling of his calloused palm against yours.

By the time you leave the parking lot of the bar, there are three other people in the backseat, and a few in the bed of the truck, too. Max is a careful driver, though you’re sure part of that is because of the people in the back. He stops at another ranch and one of them climbs out, and then he stops at the bunkhouse at your uncle’s ranch before he steers the car up towards the house. It’s just the two of you. The CD is still spinning, playing quietly through the speakers. He puts the truck in park in front of the house, kitchen light glowing, and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

Instead, words slip past your lips. “I’m sorry. For being… weird. Forward.”

Max scoffs.

“I know. Understatement.” You shrug, reaching for the door handle. “I just. I read the signals wrong. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You open the door a crack and then freeze when his hand falls to your thigh, gripping tight, burning hot even through the fabric of your dress. Your breath is caught in your chest. You turn to look at him, his face half illuminated, half shadowed.

“You didn’t,” he says.

You swallow. The air is thick with humidity and tension. “Didn’t what?” You ask.

“Make me uncomfortable,” he says, softly. “Or read the signals wrong.”

You pull the truck door shut and turn towards him in your seat. His hand never leaves your leg, his eyes never leave your face, not even when you lean towards him, just slightly. Your heart is in your throat.

“But you told me no, after the river,” you mumble. “And then tonight…”

“You were drunk,” he says. “And you’re drunk again. And you’re too good for me. You deserve better. But…”

“But?”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, and your skin lights on fire. His fingers dig into your leg, and you hope to god he leaves a mark. “Bet you taste sweet as honey, too.”

Blood roars in your ears so loud you barely hear the words you say next. “Maybe you should find out for yourself.”

He grins, and then he shakes his head. He releases his grip on your leg and exchanges it for a light smack against the outside of your thigh. If you were sober, you’d call him out for it, but right now, it just sends a shock through your system.

“Time for bed, honey,” he says, and in a trance, you open the door again and head inside.

In the morning, you wonder if you imagined it all. But when you bring coffee out to the cowboys on Monday, he blushes red as the tomatoes in the garden, and you know it was real.

…..

5 days go by. 5 days of watching out the window while he works, 5 days of pining, 5 days of avoiding him at all costs because if you’re being honest, you’re nervous. But then it’s Thursday afternoon, and he walks into the barn while you’re already standing there, and suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest.

He leans against one of the walls, crossing one foot over the other, arms folded over his chest. “You’re avoiding me.”

You shrug, leaning over to brush a bit of dust off your boots before you lean against the opposite wall. You don’t meet his eyes. “Wonder why that would be.”

He huffs. “If you want to be a brat, I can go.”

Your cheeks are burning, and you finally look at him, a glare set in your eyes. He’s smiling, the asshole, barely containing his amusement. Maybe you don’t want him, maybe he’s a jerk, maybe- he uncrosses and recrosses his arms, and you watch his muscles twitch under the fabric of his shirt. You swallow.

“I already told you what I want,” you mutter.

“Oh, good, you remember that,” he retorts.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” you snark back.

“Drunk enough to say it out loud when you can’t even look me in the eyes now,” he says, taking a step away from the door. “Come on, say it like a big girl. Ask me again, sober, like you did before.”

Your heart is in your throat, now. He looms over you, eyes sweeping up and down your body. It’s then that you realize how short your dress is, how close he is, how much you really do want him.

“Max,” you whine, almost petulant.

He tilts his head. “Can’t you ask nicely? Where are your manners?”

You blink up at him, once, twice, three times. His cheeks are rosy red, pupils blown wide. He smells like sweat and sunshine and man and you can’t get enough of him. His hat sits low on his brow, plush lips just barely parted, like he’s waiting for something. You can’t stand it anymore, can’t play this game with him forever.

You reach up and take the hat off his head, and he groans. When you put it atop your own head, he blinks slowly. His hand falls to your hip. It makes you feel like you’re burning up, even through the fabric.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, leaning up to put your lips close to his ear. “Will you do it if I say please, Max?”

His hand squeezes at your hip harshly, and his mouth falls open. And then he’s kissing you, shoving you up against the wall of the barn, and you barely have time to wrap your arms around his neck before he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kisses like no boy you’ve ever kissed before, like he knows exactly what he’s doing, what buttons to press, just how to touch you to have you seeing stars before he’s even begun. He slips his hand lower from your waist and under your skirt, sliding up your thigh, and you whimper into his mouth. His other hand slams against the wall next to your head to try and steady himself. You arch your back, pressing your chest to his, melting when he shifts so one of his legs is slotted between yours, and you-

There’s a shout, then voices, headed your way. Max rips himself away from you, leaving you gasping for air, lips already parting to whine about it. He snatches his hat off your head.

“Max,” you pant, and he blinks harshly, taking another full step back from you. “Wait, Max-“

“Later,” he hisses. “Just- we’ll talk later, okay?”

Then he disappears from the barn, leaving nothing but empty air and a bit of beard burn behind him.

…..

You don’t talk later, really. Max is a rollercoaster. He kisses you in the barn and then ignores you for 24 hours. He sits next to you at the Friday night dinner and slides his hand up your thigh under the table, far too high to be anywhere near polite, and then ignores you the next morning when you bring out coffee, too busy talking to one of his buddies. He finds you in the barn a different night and wraps his arm around your waist, pulls your back to his front, and kisses your neck until you’re bracing yourself on the workbench in front of you, and then at the slightest noise outside, he’s gone. It’s maddening. It’s like he can’t make up his mind.

“You’re too young,” he says, one night.

The two of you are standing out in the fields, watching the sun sink low over the horizon. He has his hands in his pockets.

“Right, because you’re ancient,” you reply.

“Are you even twenty one?” He asks.

“I was in the bar the other night, wasn’t I?”

“College kids get fake IDs.”

“I’m perfectly legal,” you answer, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “In every possible way.”

He spins you around, presses you up against the fence, and kisses you. You’re amazed the grass doesn’t catch on fire from the heat of it all.

…

You meet him and the rest of the crew down by the creek another night, and this time you catch him watching when you wade in the cool water in your swimsuit. He doesn’t bother looking away, just keeps watching and grins, making your face heat up. He must know what he does to you, must know how he makes you feel, and it’s so unfair.

You dry off and slip back into your dress a while later. He lends you his flannel when the sun slips down and you shiver in your spot, sitting on the ground and leaning against his legs. He’s sitting in a camp chair behind you, and every so often, you feel his hand against your shoulder. You try not to read into it.

Someone pulls out a guitar and starts to strum. You turn to him.

“Can you play?” You ask. He shakes his head, and you hum. “Then what’s your cowboy party trick?”

He tilts his head at you, brows furrowed. “What?”

“You know, like… the guitar, darts, bull riding,” you say, gesturing at him. “What makes you cool?”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and speaks softly, close to your ear. “The only guys who need party tricks are the ones who can’t pull a girl without them.”

You scoff and slap his knee. “Then maybe we should find you a trick, cowboy.”

He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “Nah. I think I’m doing just fine.”

You glare up at him, hoping he can see it even in the dark. He laughs. You roll your eyes.

“But I am pretty handy with the rope,” he says, and then he winks.

You blink up at him, and his shoulders start to shake. You cross your arms over your chest and turn to stare at the fire again, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of asking exactly what he means, or if he’s offering. Behind you, his leg shakes with his laughter.

…

Another afternoon, he pulls up behind you in his truck while you’re walking down the dirt road and calls out a “hey, honey.”

This leads to you climbing into his truck with him, and a short drive to a more secluded area. Then he gets you in his lap, his hands on your hips, and kisses you senseless. You can feel him getting hard underneath you. It makes you ache. You chase after his lips when he starts to pull away, his hands still holding you tight.

“I don’t come back,” he tells you, lips brushing yours.

“Okay,” you mutter. Then you pause. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t come back,” he repeats. You huff. “I won’t be back here next year. I’ll be… I don’t know, but it won’t be here.”

Some cowboys stay at one ranch their whole careers. Others wander the Wild West and never go back to the same place twice. You should’ve known Max would be a runner.

“Okay,” you say, again. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He shrugs. “You deserve someone who’ll come back.”

And. He says it, but then he hauls you close and kisses you again, so. You choose to ignore it.

…

On a Saturday night, at the bar, you lean over to whisper “come on,” in his ear.

He’s nursing a gin and tonic. “Gonna have to be more clear what you’re asking for, honey.”

You giggle, draped over his shoulder in the dark corner of the booth. Nobody’s looking, and even if they were, they wouldn’t care. Your hand rests on his shoulder, your chin resting atop your hand, your lips brushing his ear. He shudders.

“Meet me in the bathroom in five?” You ask.

He groans, eyelids fluttering, and turns towards you, nose to nose. He’s so close you swear you can feel his breath. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek.

“You’re better than getting fucked in a bar bathroom,” he says. When you raise a brow and open your mouth to protest, he winces, and adds, “you’re better than this bar bathroom, and I’m not fucking you here, and you’re drunk.”

You sit back and cross your arms over your chest petulantly. You can see the smirk on his lips from the corner of your eye, but you don’t bother to call him out on it.

…

Max is a rollercoaster, but you grow tired of being stuck on the ride pretty quickly. He kisses you and touches you and then he pulls away. No matter what, he won’t fuck you. He’s always got an excuse. It’s driving you up the walls.

“You are driving me nuts,” you say through gritted teeth, three days later, when you look up and find him leaning on the garden fence, watching you pull weeds.

“Think it’s the other way around, honey,” he says, shaking his head. “You look pretty like this.”

You look down at yourself, at the dress you’re wearing, at the way you’re kneeling on the ground. Your face gets hot, and you wipe the dirt from your hands onto your apron.

“Then do something about it,” you snip, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist. “Or would you rather just stand there and stare?”

He whistles lowly, and you try to pretend the sound doesn’t send a shiver down your spine. “City girl’s got an attitude, huh?”

You huff, push yourself up off the ground, and gather your things. You’re not just going to sit here and let him ogle you, let him think up fantasies to get off to later like you know he’s probably doing. He knows what you want, he’s admitted he wants it, too, but he won’t give in, and you’re so over it. He thinks you’re the one with the attitude, but-

“Hey, honey,” he says, just before you start to walk away. You turn over your shoulder, squinting at him, the evening sun straight over his shoulder.

“Yeah, Max?” You answer, hating how anticipatory you sound.

He looks at his watch. “Meet me at the river in an hour?”

You blink. Your heart skips a beat. Then you nod. He nods back. You wait for him to walk away, picking a couple more tomatoes off the vine. Then, once he’s out of sight, you take off running through the tall grass, all the way up to the house. Your hands shake with anticipation the whole time you’re getting ready. It feels a bit ridiculous, but you can’t help it- something is in the air, some sort of current, crackling beneath the surface. You just hope you get to find out exactly what it is.

part ii. coming tomorrow @ 3pm EST!!

a/n: thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed! fair warning, part two kicks things up a notch in terms of +18 content. see you all tomorrow!

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5 @c-losur3 @casperlikej @the-navistar-carol @everyonesluvah @jsjcue @si1ver06 @nicole01-23 @arieslost

[new-revenant]

This idea popped into my head after watching Detentionaire so I took some inspiration from it

Danny is the new kid at Gotham Academy, he was put into a foster home after Sam's mom blew the whistle on the unintentional child neglect, and on his very first day he gets framed for an explosion in the chemistry lab so that means detention for the year. This also means Danny has to sneak out during detention, gather evidence, and get back before the teacher who is supposed to monitor him gets back from the teacher's lounge, it escalates to him sneaking out at night as well. He's coming up on week three of this when he gets a new friend in detention by the name of Tim Drake, he got in trouble for fighting, who also wants to figure out who destroyed the chemistry lab. Now Danny has to figure out a way out of detention without phasing through the door/walls/floors, or ceiling and to get Tim to stop asking questions. Tim wants to know exactly what Danny's deal is because he's pretty sure Danny's a meta because he's pretty sure he saw him density shift his arm through his locker to get some books when his locker wouldn't open.

At first I was like “would Tim get in trouble for fighting” then I quickly realized that he started a fight on purpose just so he could get detention so he could question Danny more easily. Also Sam’s mom would absolutely do that if she stepped so much as an inch inside of the Fenton household. She thinks she’s doing the right thing, but now Danny is absolutely miserable. His parents definitely weren’t perfect, but he loved them.

I’d also think that Danny…isn’t great at detective work, but he’s got a few clues already. First of all, he didn’t explode the lab. Second of all, the chemistry teacher is giving off rancid vibes and should not be trusted. And third of all, even though he couldn’t prove that ghosts were involved, he couldn’t prove they were not involved. Yet. I’m imagining Danny telling Tim this, looking completely serious as he says that ghosts could have been involved. Tim is unamused, and so is Danny.

[percervall]

slipping through my fingers all the time — smau

Summary: A peek into the lives of girlypop and her gaggle of husbands Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: none

images are all from pinterest, tumblr and instagram

kevinmagnussen and others liked this

girlypop take all the time you need, peanut

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susie_wolff congratulations! you're gonna be the best mama ↳ girlypop thanks Susie!

jasmiine so happy for you guys! can't wait to be the best auntie for peanut! ↳ girlypop peanut is lucky to have you!

girlypop, lewishamilton and others liked this

kevinmagnussen welcome to the world Agnes. Your mummy and dads love you so much already

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oscarpiastri welcome little roo

carmenmundt congratulations!

mickshumacher laila and I will come visit soon! congrats sis 😉 liked by girlypop

susie_wolff, jasmiine, and others liked this

girlypop Agnes wanted to look at every single flower before picking her favourites for her dads. Happy father's day my loves

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jasmiine your husbands are the luckiest men ↳ lewishamilton oh, we know liked by aussiegrit and kevinmagnussen

landonorris glad to see the bucket hat is appreciated ✌🏼 liked by girlypop

girlypop, aussiegrit and others liked this

lewishamilton words cannot express how happy we are. welcome Margot, you are so loved already

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georgerussell63 congrats mate!

charles_lecerc congratulations! 👶🏼

sebastianvettel congratulations!

susie_wolff Agnes can't wait to meet her little sister! congrats you four, she's perfect

susie_wolff, lilyzneimer, and others liked this

girlypop getting so big already!

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sebastianvettel look at my goddaughter getting so strong! liked by girlypop

lailahasanovic 🏃🏼‍♀️ omw for some baby snuggles ↳mickshumacher 🏃🏼‍♂️ wait for me!

aussiegrit posted a new story!

↳ oscarpiastri good to know I am not the only one she's got wrapped around her finger ↳ fernandoalo_ofical she's got better moves than him! 😂 ↳ jasmiine i'd say sorry for turning my niece into a swifty but you're welcome feels more appropriate 😘

aussiegrit, kevinmagnussen and others liked this

girlypop whoever said it was a good idea to have a baby with a 6ft giant obviously has never been pregnant before

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jasmiine if you need me to 🧹 lmk ↳aussiegrit do I even want to know what this means? ↳jasmiine no✨

susie_wolff oh I know, it's the absolute worst! but, also worth it in the end liked by girlypop

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aussiegrit Our family felt incomplete without you. Welcome Luke

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jensonbutton congratulations man. fatherhood looks good on you liked by girlypop

fernandoalo_oficial congratulations!

oscarpiastri congrats old man! liked by girlypop and aussiegrit

fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and others liked this

girlypop @.brittnyward is this yours?

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brittnyward ah, so that's where he went. pls remind him to pick up dishwasher tablets liked by girlypop ↳girlypop will do babe!

lilyzneimer can't blame him! baby luke is the cuddliest baby ever! liked by girlypop

landonorris, mickshumacher and others liked this

girlypop this is what happens when Oscar and uncle LaLa look after Luke for the weekend 🤦🏼‍♀️

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oscarpiastri cheers mum 😶 this was all Lando ↳landonorris whats that supposed to mean? he looks like the coolest toddler on the grid! ↳jensonbutton he looks ready to take over quadrant liked by landonorris

lilyzneimer how did Agnes' race go? ↳aussiegrit she did so well! roo came third and was disappointed she didn't get to spray the champagne. pretty sure I saw nano cry ↳fernandoalo_oficial so did you cabrón liked by jensonbutton

the next time I decide to do a smau, I'd appreciate it if someone would remind me of just how long this took me

please let me know what you think. your comments, likes, and tags mean the absolute world to me 💜

[acid-ixx]

villain au concept: brutus (again &. again series)

tw: flashing lights for the video

this but with a neglected! reader who had tried to take a shot at fighting and discovering their potential. they're especially good with guns, the very weapon batman has sworn neven to use.

you were born to be a heartless killing machine— if not for your mother shielding you away from the sins she had bared, you would've been more than just a bounty or a target costing millions.

you would've been the topmost hired hitman at the age of ten, but you had only found out about your skill at that age.

simply being adopted into the family had delayed your development; turning you into a human, who yearned for love and attention yet never having it reciprocated. you had brainwashed yourself into thinking that if you could reach the same level as them then maybe, just maybe, you could stand by your family's side.

your father, batman, should've noticed the signs sooner.

that in the manor, it houses a cold blooded beast, too far gone into the world of lusting.

lusting for blood, lusting for condemnation, lusting to satiate their hunger.

the way your eyes lit up whenever you successfully hit a target from miles away, or the way your tantrums and fights with damian leads you to ripping apart practice dummies with murderous intent— they were detectives for god's sake! how could they have merely ignored the heavy thumps that cloak the night?

alfred had tried to address the sudden shift in your behavior. he had tried to point out your calculated stares during family meals, the bandages that began to litter your body, your bedroom doors now bolted; how every night the smell of blood seems thicker and more concentrated in the manor.

you didn't just grow up. hell no, you were an entirely different being.

instead of you being led to the light, you were further drawn to the darkness; the picture perfect scenario of what bruce should've been had he ever not picked himself up and fixed his ways.

but you weren't bruce, fucking wayne. no, you were (last name)'s child, and you would never forgive him for even trying to wipe out your own identity.

the neglect that had built up and the anger that was left of you— you turned it into determination; motivation for you to stealthily sneak through the batcave and steal his devices, transform it into weapons made for just for you.

yet you do not use bullets for justice nor reason just like jason, no. but you had died just like him, lost your hope for the very man who you once thought of your father.

it is all a means for you to quench your thirst.

you couldn't wait to see their faces.

maybe then they'll bond with you through fists and bruises, through gunshots and bullets.

and the best part of it all?

you don't need to ask for anymore for their attention.

not when you have all the other criminals willing to give the world in the palm of your hands.

a/n: do you know of fanon! jason who was said to be an aggressive kid? in this au, it's basically you; drowning in contempt lmao. anywaysz, this is just a concept that i randomly thought about, it's basically a "what-if" you had found out the truth sooner about your mother other than the rumors? (lore still redacted lmao) bec if you did, then the end result is this au hehe. again, in the main series there's a lot of false narratives on your part, i love utilizing the faulty narrator trope.

[coff33andb00ks]

20 Oscar

20: pressing the other’s hand against their cheek

warnings: author doesn't understand the meaning of the word "short" and (badly written) descriptions of a wreck during a race (no injuries)

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Piastri just doesn't give a fuck.

Oscar is just too chill.

Does he ever show emotion except when he's laughing at Lando?

You try to stay out of comments. Hell, you try to stay off social media, it's nothing but a cesspool of people with too much time on their hands and not enough brain cells to comprehend more than the surface level of what they're shown. But sometimes you like it, because there are creative people who put out beautifully edited videos of your boyfriend. Sometimes you show them to him, enjoying his giggling while he watches and shakes his head over someone finding him attractive enough to warrant a thirty second video set to a Rihanna song.

But the comments about his emotionless black cat behavior hurt. He's so much more than how he portrays himself. He's vibrant and so full of life, and you will forever appreciate the people who see beyond his social anxiety and notice his amazing sense of humor, his passion for racing and life. They'll never know the real him and will probably never understand why you fell in love with him.

Him. The sweet and shy guy who'd come to your defense when a rude customer had been berating you over a wrong order. His voice had cut over her yelling, calm and measured, and after your manager had kicked out the irrationally angry woman it had been Oscar that had approached you to check on you, frowning when he saw your tears. His gentle tone had calmed you, his respectful stance had won your admiration, and his calling the woman a fucking cunt had made you smile.

You wish you could defend him as he continues to defend you. When a video questioning how a nobody like you had bagged a formula one rookie had gone somewhat viral he'd taken to twitter and unleashed such a beautifully worded rant that people were still quoting it more than a year later.

It's come to my attention that some so-called fans are referring to my girlfriend as a nobody. Allow me to introduce her to you. She's funny, she's brilliant, she's beautiful. She's every word you can think of to describe the perfect person and she's so much more. She shines light in the darkest corners of my soul. Her eyes are a map of my universe. When you look at us together, know that I am constantly trying to be worthy of the love she gives me, and know that if you speak ill of her you will never have my respect but you will have my disgust.

You would never ever doubt his love for you. Not that you ever had but that had cemented it. You could never come to his defense in such a way. If you even tried you'd be sneered at for being a try hard.

And really, you didn't need to. Because the one thing Oscar did not give a fuck about was anyone's opinion. Only a handful of people mattered enough to him for him to care what they thought. You were blessed to be included on that list.

You love him so much that for a while it scared you, having never fallen into the this one person is my moon and stars mindset. But now you understand. He didn't just hang them, he is your moon and stars. Your one and only and if for some reason this doesn't end in forever you'll be ruined for any other man.

It was still a shock, though, when you felt your heart stop beating as you watched his car careen towards the barrier. The front wing clipped Max's rear tire and you can't breathe, watching in slow motion as the brightly colored car tips and lifts into the air. There is nothing but absolute silence around you in the McLaren garage and you're frozen, staring at the monitor while his car flips and rolls, carbon fiber flying in every direction when it lands upside down, his helmet just visible as it slides to a stop at the safety fence.

Silence. Then pandemonium. Your world has just flipped and spun and you can't breathe, ears straining to hear him but you can only hear the crackle of the radio when Zak and Tom try to get him to respond.

Then, finally, his voice. Shaken and scared. "Are they okay? Please tell me they're okay."

Of course he'd ask after the others involved. You can finally breathe but it hurts, not knowing that he's okay. And you can't do anything but wait, heart barely beating until he's finally out, he's moving, he's giving the fans a thumbs up as he's put on the stretcher. You still can't do a thing and you've never felt more useless than you do while you're waiting just inside the medical center with Zak and Lando, who'd come to wait during the red flag.

Then the most beautiful words you've ever heard.

"He's okay."

There's more after that, about him being transported to the local hospital for a complete check, the possibility of a concussion but he's okay. And you're allowed to go see him while the ambulance is readied.

He's sitting up, looking a little pale but he's not hurt, he's in one piece, and when he sees you he gasps. You try to be gentle when you embrace him, but he steals your breath, holding you so tightly it hurts, his face pressed into your neck.

"They won't tell me - are Max and George okay?" His voice is strained and you feel his tears.

"They're fine, my love," you promise.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know what I did. I was going good and then I was upside down." His voice shakes and cracks and he's trembling, one hand fisting in your shirt. You reach for the other.

"Shh shh... It's okay my love," you whisper, your tears finally spilling when he guides your hand up, holding it to his cheek as he lets out a shaky breath. "Everyone's okay, you're okay."

His eyes meet yours and your world rights itself.

[ushiwakatrash]

The Bakusquad as Roommates

A/N: Hey babes, it's been a while! I've been so busy will college so I really couldn't write. But, yeah, I'm (kinda) back <3333

!Warning!: smoking (weed too)

According to the new rules, UA has decided to place two people per room.

(This deviates from the original plot line)

See the Dekusquad version here.

Bakugou Katsuki 爆豪 勝己

Did not like the thought of sharing his space with someone random but as per UA's orders, what choice did he have?

Very clean and very strict about house rules

Will constantly nag about how you can't do chores right

Your first weeks were a disaster. He was so scary and so intimidating, you thought he was the concentrated essence of evil

He's blunt and mean, but you figure out he just has a hard time expressing himself

One morning, he cooked breakfast for you but went with lame excuses like "I accidentally cooked too much." or "You look dead so fuckin' eat!"

Since then you went along with his shitty excuses and used them when giving him dinner

"Bakugou, you can have this 'cause I don't feel like eating anymore." or "They looked good so I bought twice as much for, uh, no reason at all."

Seeing your efforts in trying to be a good roomie, he warmed up to you eventually

Now y'all just argue like an old couple

Kirishima Eijirou 切島 鋭児郎

Looks tough, but he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

A literal angel

Day 1: friends

Day 2: besties

Day 3: you would take a bullet for him

He’s kinda messy and his punching bag takes a lot of space but hey, no one’s perfect

He always waits for you before he eats, and always saves you a plate when you’re running late because of extra training

You seek each other for comfort. Especially when Kiri feels insecure about how his quirk isn’t flashy or how he thinks it won’t make him a top hero one day

You, of course, would never want or let him think that way. It will never be a chore to remind him how he’s so strong and sturdy and how his muscles are hot

You know how much potential he has so if you have to repeat it a thousand times again and again, so be it

MUST PROTECT THIS CINNAMON ROLL

Kaminari Denki 上鳴電気

Had the idea of the old ‘bucket of water on top of the door’ prank as a big welcome to his roomie

What he didn’t calculate is that you have very sharp and fast reflexes.

Before the bucket falls on you, you hit it and the water splashes on Denki

Both of you were stunned at first but you recovered quickly and said “feeling cold, sparky?” with such a smug smirk

His face instantly got red and he stormed out of the room with comical tears shouting ‘MEANIE!!’

An hour later he returns, 2 popsicles in his hands. He hands you one as an apology and both of you reconcile, even if it’s his entire fault

You both get in trouble for blasting heavy metal at 3 in the morning MULTIPLE TIMES

The two of you made an agreement to do this ritual with headphones on because Mr. Aizawa had threatened to make you switch rooms

Sero Hanta 瀬呂範太

Ah, the potheads unite

It was a secret that you tried to keep under wraps since but the your roomie figured you out instantly

At first you both just shared vapes, trying out different flavors the both of you would buy

until you saw a bag in the bathroom that had an oh so familiar scent

You confronted Sero about it but he just gave you a 'what's the big deal' look so you shrugged it off

a few nights later he invited you for a session and you obliged, only if he kept it hush

this has been a routine since you could remember and Aizawa has never suspected you. I don't know about Mr. tape man though.

Ashido Mina 芦戸 三奈

There was no adjustment period for the both of you whatsoever

You both became instant besties and shared EVERYTHING

from skincare to clothes to maybe thongs at times but hey, girls do that shit

As if being roommates wasn't enough, you still hung out after class hours

Mina has been your greatest support system especially with boy trouble

Break a man's heart and she's as proud as any mother could be

Your heart is broken? A tub of ice cream and shitty movies are ready for you

She loves you like her own sister and constantly worries for you

Honestly the best roomie in town

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

[waldau]

pipe dream — chwe hansol | 1,730 words | fluff

friends to lovers with vernon (again)!!! here's the writing exercise i did because my hands were freezing.

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

“do you have your keys?”

you peel your eyes away from the movie you’re not really watching and look up at vernon. you couldn’t even tell the title if vernon asked.

vernon, who’s dressed in the most casual attire possible and still manages to look incredibly handsome as he stands in front of you, hands in the pockets of his jeans jacket.

“my…keys,” you repeat, focusing on not looking at his lips. you look at his eyes instead. maybe a second too late, because he raises his eyebrows.

“yeah,” he says, slowly. “keys. to our apartment. your set.”

our apartment. you ignore the tingle that runs through you at the possessive word. “i do, but…why?”

he sighs. “i left mine at seungkwan’s. he’s back in jeju right now and i don’t know when i’ll be back, so i don’t want to disturb you.”

“you mean you forgot yours. for the second time in the past few months.”

he raises his hands in surrender, a smile on his face. “not denying that.”

“what would you do without me?”

he pretends to think. “die, maybe. but can i have your keys? i promise i’m not going to lose them anywhere.”

you scrutinize him for a few moments. he probably thinks it’s under the pretense of wondering if you really want to give them to him, but you know you’d give them to him in a heartbeat. your hesitation is more about why he’s heading out tonight.

your mutual friend jeonghan’s set him on a blind date with a friend of a friend, and vernon’s heading out because he doesn’t have any other obligations. apart from your weekly movie night. which happens every saturday, without fail. you get a chance to pick a movie every other week. it’s your turn tonight, and while you usually love watching…spirited away, you remember, looking at the screen before looking back at him, it doesn’t seem that fun when you’re the only one on the sofa tonight.

it hurts that he’s okay with skipping movie night this time around. it always happens, even if either of you has to go somewhere the next day. it’s something that started out of boredom and has become an unspoken tradition.

but it doesn’t matter now. vernon’s going to go on a date with someone handpicked by jeonghan. someone who’s no wonder gorgeous, and funny, and smart, and the perfect match for him. he’s going to fall in love despite his whole i don’t fall in love easily at all shtick. and he’s going to go on even more dates, and move out, and maybe even marry—

“what if i say no?”

“either i wake you up from your sleep, or i spend the whole night freezing outside our door.”

you roll your eyes. vernon can be pretty dramatic when he needs to be. “i’m not that cruel. you can take my keys. they’re on my table.”

vernon’s eyes widen slightly. “really? i’ll get them, no worries,” he says, hand reaching out to push you back down into the sofa when you try to get to your feet. you shut your eyes for a moment at the touch, and he’s gone when you open them.

is it some kind of cosmically unlucky coincidence that jeonghan set vernon up on a date just days after you confessed your feelings about vernon to seungcheol? or is it some sort of conspiracy to get you jealous enough to confess to vernon, and then sit back and watch your life fall apart when he inevitably rejects you?

either way, it’s not going to work. there’s no magic than can possibly bring the two of you together.

a loud sound from the television startles you and makes you realize it’s been a minute or two since vernon’s been in your room. your mind first jumps to wonder whether you’ve left it in a mess, but you haven’t. your bed is neat, your laundry is washed and folded, and your desk is empty. you don’t have any journals dedicated to your feelings for him, thankfully. the notes app in your phone is a worthy substitute.

what the heck is he doing there, then?

“vern?” you call out, a bit uncertain. “aren’t they on the table?”

“yeah,” he calls out, and you hear his footsteps as he heads out of your room. “sorry. i got distracted.” he dangles your keys in front of you. “didn’t know you kept this,” he says, pointing to one of the keychains attached to the keys.

it’s a small mario figurine he’d given you for one of your birthdays. it’s eroded past the point of recognition, and the only reason you can tell it’s mario is because vernon had given it to you. specifically because of the sheepish smile he’d had as he caught you at the end of the party, apologizing for not being able to get a better gift in time. it’s still one of your most cherished gifts, and it’s even more valuable because vernon has a matching luigi keychain for his car keys.

“there wasn’t any reason for me to throw it away,” you point out.

vernon jerks his head to the side. “fair. also, you lied to me.”

“i…did? about?”

“not having this picture with you,” he says, sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out a small polaroid. it’s too far to recognize anyone in it, but when he brings it closer to you, you swear you understand what people mean when they say their blood freezes.

it’s a picture of you and him at seungcheol’s last party, a few months ago. you’re sitting next to vernon, his hand around your shoulders and his head resting against yours. you don’t remember ever seeing him smile this much in a photo before. but he’d also been tipsy that night, which explains why he might’ve been like that. if it had been him and anyone else, it would have looked like a picture of a couple, but with you in it, it’s just two friends. nothing more.

the incriminating thing about the photo, however, isn’t the photo itself. it’s what’s written on the back. it says tell him you love him already! in soonyoung’s half-tidy scrawl. pipe dream, is what your reply was. i’ll tell him when he does first. because, obviously, he’d never do that.

you can’t bring yourself to meet vernon’s eyes, afraid of what he might say. the only reason the picture was ever pinned to your bulletin board was because you never expected him to see it there, and yet your worst fears have come true.

“if you’d shown me this earlier,” vernon says, placing the photo on your lap, “i wouldn’t have had to say yes to jeonghan hyung tonight.”

you don’t comprehend his words immediately, but he’s not upset. okay. you can deal with this. “why would it change—”

“because i love you.”

time stops, too. vernon is looking intently at you, his gaze never shifting as he reaches out for the remote and presses the pause button. that’s…kinda hot, you think, sinking into the sofa as much as you can. you’re done for.

“aren’t you going to say it back to me?”

“i…what? love you?”

“you’re going to have to sound more convincing if you want to make this dream reality.”

“i…love you?” you ask, swallowing.

“one more time?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of you. his hand reaches for yours.

this is vernon. your best friend, your roommate, and your only crush for the longest time ever. you can almost see seungkwan in your mind’s eye, urging you to say something.

“do i have to say it?” you ask, your grip on his hand tightening. “wasn’t the photo still being up there proof enough?”

“it was,” he says, that small smile you love so much gracing his lips, “but i’d like to hear it from you.”

“i…” dreaming of being able to say those words to him is one thing, but actually saying those words to him, knowing that he knows you love him feels…unlike anything you’ve felt before. you’re unable to meet his eyes.

again, this is vernon. you’ve shared a good number of embarrassing moments with him as your roommate, and yet…

“hm?”

“i love you,” you say, eyes shut, stomach feeling not unlike how it does at the precipice before the roller coaster falls towards the ground.

“you’re not even going to look at me?”

you’ve nearly said it thrice till now, and the more you say it, the easier it seems to get. especially when vernon wants you to say it to him. you open your eyes and glare at him. “fine. i love you, chwe vernon. i think you already knew it, but do with that what you will.”

vernon smiles that brilliant smile soonyoung had captured on camera months ago, and getting to see it directed at you feels amazing. “what i’m going to do, is apologize to jeonghan hyung,” he says, getting up to his feet.

“why? what about your date?”

“there’s someone else i’d like to have as my date.”

several hours later, when you’ve both watched a movie each of your choice, vernon leans against your shoulder while you wrap your blanket closer around the two of you.

“i thought i’d been clear that night,” he says. whispers, given how tired he sounds. you look down at the messy mop of hair resting on your shoulder. his hair’s gotten longer. when was the last time he’d gotten it cut? with little hesitation, you lift your hand and push his fringe back so it doesn’t cover his eyes.

“i thought you were tipsy.”

he huffs a laugh. self-depreciating. you know him well enough by now to be able to tell what he means. “liquid courage. i hoped you’d take a hint.”

you’d wanted to, so badly. vernon hadn’t left your side that night even once, and he held onto your hand all the way back home. you figured it had been for physical support.

apparently not.

you feel a surge of fondness run through you. you wish he could see it.

“vernon?”

“yeah?”

“i love you. i’m sorry i took this long to say it.”

you feel him press his cheek against your shoulder a little harder. he’s going to fall asleep soon.

“don’t be. i love you, too.”

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